Google Books

I was not, in fact, so stricken by shame from my last post that I was unable to blog. Just got  a bit caught up in research and it all seemed a bit too hard. At the moment I’m researching my contribution to our book’s opening chapter, which looks at the history of bankruptcy and voidable transactions (with a little bit of fraudulent conveyances).  I’ve been relying on the excellent Google Books, particularly for the primary text of some of the older legislation.  Some of the books are complete scanned copies (when the book is in the public domain), and I was quite taken with this little bit of texture.

Shame

We have a maid. Her name is Asha. Asha comes for about an hour a day, 6 days a week, and sweeps, mops, does the dishes and takes the garbage out. I think she’s about 45, with 5 children. Asha speaks very little English (even less than I speak Hindi), but we muddle along ok between her English, my Hindi, and a lot of miming. I like her a lot.

Fresh milk is a little hard to get hold of here (unless you buy raw milk, which requires boiling and the Centers for Disease Control don’t think terribly much of), and so when I last went to the big supermarket I bought a few bags of it. (Like cooking oil, it is sold in bags).  I had idiotic hipster fantasies of making ricotta using this recipe, but for unimportant  reasons didn’t get around to it. I’d had the milk for nearly a week, and assumed that it would be off. So, I put the bags in the rubbish. 

When I came into the kitchen this morning, Asha was carefully washing the bags of milk under the tap, rolling them back and forth under her fingers. She asked me if  I was sure I didn’t want them. I confirmed that I didn’t. She asked if she could take them for her children, and I agreed.

 

Law and Order: Mumbai

I generally read the Times of India, but came across a copy of the Mumbai tabloid Mid Day while waiting for C in a shop. Mid Day has far juicier crime stories, and now I’m fantasizing about Law and Order: Mumbai.  I would like the first episode to be the story of these two “bar girls” (girls who dance, clothed, in bars for men’s entertainment) who robbed gold chains from suburban rail passengers in order to keep the  mastermind of the two’s string of “more than 20” boyfriends happy.