2 okt

Ah, the Pluralis Juliensis, I even had to explain it to Julie. It is the alternative for the Royal We ( pluralis maiestatis) or the Humble We ( pluralis modestiae) used im the Rezac/ van Mierlo household for matters were it is better for me not to have an opinion of myself. I am certain other Rezac inlaws reckognize this, maybe it should be referred to as the Pluralis Rezacis. These matters include, in our (pl. Jul.) case, but are not exclusive to: sculpting, car mechanics and American politics.
Every relationship should have their own pluralis whatevers. In fact, Julie sometimes thinks that alll the other areas that could be dicussed in our household should better be addressed to in the Pluralis Josephis way.
Which I disagree with, of course. I am more of the opinion that disagreement is a prerequisite for ultimate understanding. My example in this is a discussion between the Dutch poet Jan Hanlo and someone else – a mathematician or an astrlogist, or both- where Hanlo took the position that it should not be excluded that a cloud formation could possibly take the picture of a chess board. The other guy thought this was far fetched and gave letter after letter of good reasons for his position. Hanlo would come up with some very readworthy counterarguments and finally the astrologist, probably tired of the discussion, gave in. OK, he said. This possibilty should not be excluded.
Then Hanlo turned his position around and claimed that the discussion got out of hand and said the chessboard suggestion was absurd. He wanted to start the discussion all over again. There was no response anymore.
I sympathize with Hanlo and think both positions are defendable. To put it in the knowing and believing categories. Even when one knows the chessboard formation in clouds cannot be true, one can still believe it. But the discussion about the two approaches should never get confused.
Talking about confusion. We had lost Raskel for four days. The day Claire left to Barcelona, Raskel decided the company of that boring older couple was not enough to dignify her presence. When we stayed at the noisy carpark in Nuits-st.Georges, she disappeared. Naturally Rosey also disappeared, under our hood. Rosey might have heard someting funny about the engine and try to repair it. Of course in consultation with Julie, but outside of my sphere of competence and influence.
Raskel really disappeared. The last thing we saw was this stately cat walking on the garden wall nearby. After that, nothing. Julie called her Raskel, Julie called her Paskel, no response. Friday evening came, no response. Saturday morning came, no response. We were desperate to move on, but decided to stay in the area – come to find out at the campground from hell – so we could return to pick up Raskel by the time she got tired and hungry and had to acknowledge that she missed us.
Julie returned on sunday, no response. Julie returned on monday, no response. By which time we concluded that this was the end of our relationship. Divorces happen you know, and it is always more painful for the deserted party, which was us, but we had to agree that we might have left her no choice. I mean, it is not really a cat friendly life, in a campervan.
Tuesday was a sad day, but wednesmorning there was a phonecall.
‘Raskel est chez moi.’ It was the woman who owned the nice house and large garden on which wall Raskel was last seen. Julie met her in front of her house when she wanted to drop off a note explaining that we lost our cat and under which number we could be reached. Ah, she was the friendliest woman, understood our distress and was certainly going to look out for Raskel, she even took a little class in how to pronounce the name.
Well, Raskel showed up in front of her fenetre, tuesday evening. She was hungry, had a good night of sleep, but was ready now to go on with her independent life, the friendly woman told us over the telephone. It was hard to keep her inside, she claimed.
Well, we picked Raskel up, she was not pleased to see us, but got acquainted with us again a little bit during the day. We have her on a leech now, which is a crime of course, but it is sometimes the only way to prevent a separation. It is no permanent solution though. But for now we are a happy reunited family in Autun.