Apparently this day exists since 1914. I first thought it was just another one of those new
days to celebrate that women are different from men. I would much prefer a International People day. Look at the poster. A woman with long flowing hair and large earrings. You know what they say about the size of a woman’s earrings don’t you? It is inversely proportional to the size of her brain. Why not show a working mum on a bad hair day?
At least the original poster depicted a fierce woman on the barricades for women’s right to vote. It would be nice to know if women make use of this right to vote or not. I tried to google it but they tell you how many women are chosen but not the percentage of women as compared to men who actually bring out their vote.
When I was in my twenties I read all the feminist writers and decided never to do something so establishment as marry and settle down with a family. Having been surrounded by men, father,brothers, husband, sons ,nephews and colleagues all my life I actually learned it is better to fight for equality by knowing more and being able to do more than the other half of the population. Being equal? Yes. Being the same? No. Our brains just function differently and because we don’t think about sex every 5 minutes, we are able to do more things or think about more things at one time than they do.
If young girls need a role model look at Angela Merkel, chancellor of Germany. It is a shame we cannot clone her and put those clones at the head of all other countries in the world. Things would look a bit different I say.
Yesterday I went to see the movie “Three billboards outside Ebbing Missouri”. I can recommend it to everyone. I was especially pleasantly surprised about the ending. Go see it.
The only thing that was a tiny bit annoying was the constant swearing by everyone. Lately every American series or film suffers from this evil. I am no prude and will utter profanities when angered by something. But to do it in every sentence.There are so many other ways in the English language to express anger and stressful emotions. It is a shame. English is such a beautiful language. Look at anything written before 1950. For instance “1984” by George Orwell or anything by Margaret Atwood, Somerset Maugham or Doris Lessing.
When living in London in the seventies I was lucky to have a Penguin bookshop next to the Launderette I went to every week. While my clothes were tumbling in the machines I went to the shop to buy a Penguin Classic and read it while I was waiting for the washing to finish. I was in heaven. I came from the Netherlands , where because of the translation costs, book were three to four times as expensive than in the UK. Just look at my analogue book list in the top menu to get an idea of what I picked up. I have given many away in the past because when someone tells me they like to read I so want them to share all the wonderful books I read. Loving to read is one of my life’s great blessings. It all started growing up as a rather lazy child on an island where there was absolutely nothing to do and it was too hot to do it anyway. My father a fervent reader himself was delighted that he had a kindred soul in his family and stimulated me by making sure I always had something to read. I was a very lucky girl.
Finished a very nice book “The great alone”‘by Kristin Hannah which would have been a great book if it would not have had such a typically American happy ending. Everybody had to be totally fine in the end. It reminded me of the Lord of the Rings trilogy movies where the third one had that same flaw. The people married and lived happily ever after, the dwarves were happy, then the elves were over the moon and then Hobbit land was shown in all its splendor and… with everyone happy. It was sickening. Add to that the constant violin music to make sure you knew this was “happy time”. The films were not bad, but I was very grateful that I had introduced my youngest son to the books of Tolkien first. It gave him the first push to become a Fantasy fan like his mum. For Science fiction it was the books of Jack Vance, who’s world building was second to none. Maybe one day he will also develop my penchant for historical novels such as “The pillars of the earth” by Ken Follett and all the books of Dorothy Dunnett. Some books are just so good you wish you had never read them so you can read them again. Maybe when old age makes me even more forgetful than I am now, I can read the same books over and over again.