Posed or typical family body language? Mom’s holding a Kodak camera. She knows! (1954.NBC’s “Norby” was one of the first tv series in color. Color by Kodak/USPD/Commons.wikimedia.org)
It’s said, “You can pick your nose, but not your family.”
Curses. Said and is.
Siblings have their own special spin among themselves. With parents totally oblivious.
It sure seems like no matter how old people get, they are always frozen at 7-8 yrs old when around their brother and sisters.
No? Consider
- Envelope arrives containing a couple of elementary school pictures from long ago.
- In response to “You should let her know you got them OK”: “I’ll call and tell her I got an envelope from her, but it was empty.”
- Response to “That’s mean. You guys still act 8 years old around each other”: “I could tell her the dog ate them.”
- “WHY?”
- Which rolled on to fond memories of “I didn’t break off the doll’s head. It just fell off.”
- Which regressed on to “The dog took your doll into the back yard. I thought you gave it to Otto, so I didn’t stop him.”
- “And we told her the ducks flew away…HA HA. She still doesn’t know.” (Is it just me or is this valuable blackmail material?)
A behavior pattern deeply imprinted and engrained forever – For better or cross words.
Don’t even get started on birth order…they never get over it.
Phil, the Philosopher Mouse of the Hedge
Can’t fool everyone. Look at Bud’s rumpled tie. What was going on behind the scene before they snapped this perfect family picture? That little Kathy looks a little too smug. Betty, of course, is pretending the other annoying two don’t exist. Parents clueless?(1954.Father Knows Best/Commons.wikimedia.org)
Twilight Zone. Outer Limits. Forbidden Planet. Futuristic possibilities limitless – except at our house.
When the Sears Christmas catalogue arrived, every kid on the block knew Robert was the answer. Oh, for a robot to clean your room and pick up stuff you were told to lug to your room. To pinch tormenting brothers without immediate personal risk. With flashing X-ray eyes to combat a mom’s steely glare.
Notes were left. Letters to Santa written. Not so subtle conversations at the dinner table. It worked in that Christmas movie with the Red Ryder You’ll-shoot-Your-Eye-Out Rifle.
Hopes weren’t all that high on Christmas. Good thing.
But dad had managed to find – and purchase under the Mom Radar – a six-inch wind up robot. There were a lot of laughs as the metal midget lurched across the floor. I still had to clean up all the holiday litter, but somehow resisted the urge to point out that if I had only gotten that robot…
It’s the thought that counts.
Perfect for Christmas: glassy-eyed, wound up, and in holiday red. (DJ Shin/Commons.wikimedia.org)
Gearing up a few more current robotic thoughts:
A recent showcase featured a club encouraging girls to see math, science, and robots as fun (along with make-up, nails, and hair giggled the presenter). To affirm girls can do anything. Girl Power!
The young girls did seem interested in coding and robots. Seemed to be going well.
Then their final products were revealed: robots fluttering long eyelashes, sporting beaded dreads, popular hair styles, and dressed in child created high fashion outfits. The fancy robotic models swayed down a catwalk for a real fashion show.
OK. It’s the thought that counts. There is thinking there, isn’t there? Somewhere….
Meanwhile robots are getting down with getting up.
Bionic limbs make a real difference for anyone sidelined by injury. As one patient said, “Even to be standing up and able looking people in the eye again.” Miracles are happening daily at TIRR Memorial NeuroRecover Network with wearable robots. The video below shows the impact more than words can.
Now here’s where the money should be going: bionic solutions for our wounded veterans.
We owe them. Getting them up and moving – back to being as whole as possible – and back to being productive people. Win-win-win for the vet, his family, and society.
Mr President, Mr Biden, and members of Congress funneling money to cure cancer (or all the assorted diseases under that broad umbrella) is admirable, but first there’s a huge debt owed to these maimed veterans who served to protect and defend.
Can’t imagine anything that would lessen depression or make a wounded vet happier than to become a bionic superhero able to once again do life’s ordinary things without help.
They were promised. It’s the thought that counts.
“Put your little foot. Put your little foot.” Robot rockin’ it.(Shin/Commons.wikimedia.org)
Bionic advancements are taking a huge leap in Australia.
The paraplegic have new hope of walking with a bionic spine that can be inserted into the brain without surgery. The paperclip size implant will allow a paralyzed person to move bionic limbs or exoskeletons by thought alone.
The process starts with the patient imagining moving a hand or arm towards a target on the computer screen which allows the surgeons to create a virtual map of the motor cortex and spot the region of the brain that needs assistance. Then the placement of the implant.
This is only the beginning. With refinement, researchers hope to help people not only walk, but to regain fine motor control.
“Australia scientists develop ‘bionic spine’ which could help paralyzed patients walk” (Video/article)
Thoughtful future.
More trustworthy than Uber. (1956.Starring Robby the Robot /Commons.wikimedia.org)
Certainly steps in the right directions.
Creating a high fashion robot to flirty roll down the catwalk or making the world a better place by helping a real person become an actual bionic superhero? Which do you think would interest kids more?
“High school club makes robotic arm for 11-year-old girl”(Video/article)
Thought does count.
Phil, the Philosopher Mouse of the Hedge.
“Annoying brother? Point me to the tormentor!” (Robby the Robot with blaster. Tin Age Collection. Osaka Tin Toy Institute/DJ Shin/Commons.wikimedia.org)
Cancan. (USPD/Commons.wikimedia.org)
Things should line up straight to continue the dance. Can do so much more if organized with patterns and a steady beat. It seems so simple.
Recently, some football players, doctors, and lawyers are kicking at the structure of the game.
No fuzzy thinking can be flagged concerning concussions. Can anyone doubt that repeated head bashing causes damage?
One look at former boxers is pretty convincing. No secret since 1928. “Punch-drunk”. “Punchy”. “Slap-happy”.”Knocked silly”. “Took one to many to the head”. Common phrases used for the groggy haze of boxers and in reference to brain damage in boxers.
So why all of a sudden the shock at discovering football players who constantly crash into hard helmets, solid bodies, and unforgiving ground get brain damage?
Not cancan. Although when these are bare and naked each winter, they seem to act pretty liberated. Cavorting free and breezy. Flirty even, before they cover up with their floral summer outfits. ©
For years the threat and potential of career ending injuries and life long damage has been the justification for football player’s huge salaries and bonuses.
Big risk, big rewards, right?
All a gamble. Like with race car drivers: dangerous with a serious risk of a crash, but oh, what a payoff if it goes well. And it can. Any brainiac can see that.
No can can play the game? Good there was plenty of money to put in the banks just in case, right? All of a sudden injured players feel they can ask for even more money for suffering concussions which are more normal than not in this sport they chose to participate in?
Some even can see it as a legal excuse for criminal acts or bad behavior.
How can they say they didn’t understand the risks?
Players have eyes, ears, and can easily read about risks. Oh, well, maybe not the last – but they have family and “people” that can guide them.
Many ordinary people cannot understand why when choices were made, but the results weren’t what an individual wanted, some feel they can complain and demand special treatment.
Oh, well, football fans can expect an additional special fee or tax added to ticket prices to build a “Cannot Play Fund”. Who else can make it, right?
Apparently, can cans can also be comedians. (USPD/Commons.wikimedia.org)
Is it so difficult to fathom can cans and can nots?
- Can anyone really expect voters to pick them by saying things like “Pick me because I’m this gender/this race/speak a language just like you“? Cannot understand why saying things like “Vote of me or there’s a special place in hell for you” would even be uttered much less and affirmingly laughed and nodded at. Younger voters do not appreciate threats, older “celebrities” telling them how to think, or assumptions with over-generalizations. These strategies that aren’t exactly can can do – for any political party.
- Cannot understand why anchors of national morning shows who can talk about so many interesting, entertaining and informative topics would choose to spend a segment talking about “Your most embarrassing pee story.” Grown women. Punch drunk or something that Today morning? Who cares about you going down a slide or sitting on the curb with full pants waiting for mom or wetting while tap dancing? Why would anyone show a young daughter sitting on a potty surrounded by piles of toys even if a co-anchor asked what you did while being snowed in? Can find better amusements. Click. Canned.
Cannots knowing better to be silent than to reveal one too many punches to the head. ..even in clipped tones.©
Just a few ideas kicking down the road.
Can’t stop grinning over the Broncos can-do spirit. It was almost like watching the home team considering how many of those players did tours of duty here at one time or another. We can too claim them… Just gave them some seasoning here. That can do a lot…all part of the plan….
(Only 363 days until the next Super Bowl. Only know as it’s all over the news here. This is the next game’s location. Good news – bad news.)
Always in favor of more can cans.
Phil, the Philosopher Mouse of the Hedge
Anyone who knows can-can understands the trick is to leave something to the imagination. (USPD/Commons.wikimedia.org)
End of the road. It has been decided. (GanMed64/Flickr/Commons.wikimedia.org)
Sometimes all that’s left is to countdown the days.
He didn’t ask for this. Star-crossed. Had hoped for more, but all that seemed left was a slow walk down a cold concrete hall. Alone.
But not yet.
Someone had a different idea.
Well aware the 4 year old blue pit bull had heartworms and was in end stage heart failure with liver and kidneys shutting down, Casey Keller was determined that he would know comfort, love, and the joys of sleeping on a couch after a barren life on a chain in a backyard and, then, being abandoned in his final days.
She pulled him off death row of the county shelter and named him King. As long as he is able and comfortable, he’ll live like a king.
Once I had none. Now I have all. King’s Bucket List Item #28: All soft things. (Houston Street Dogs Facebook)
Despite his condition, King is a happy dog living in the moment. Casey created a Bucket List for whatever days he has left.
Trips to pet store to pick out any toy he wanted, eating food that he once could only smell and dream of, car rides, trips to the beach and lifts when he’s too tired to walk.
Today King and Casey did Bucket List Item # 41: Educate the next generation of dog owners.
Students at Briarmeadow Charter School welcomed the dog who’s discovered new energy and a mission.
Having the time of his life, King’s not worried. He’s got friends and things to do.
- Keep up with his reign and Bucket List on HoustonStreetDogs’ Facebook page.
- “Rescue group helps dying dog live out his bucket list” (Ch2KPRC. Video and story)
- “Terminally ill dog gets to live out his bucket list” (Ch26KRIV. Video and story.)
- (King’s Bucket List Item # 38: Be on TV.)
This isn’t just a sad doggie story getting a lot of media attention.
King’s choice: live for today. (Houston Street Dogs Facebook)
King has become an important Spokesdog.
While humans are all a-buzz about the Zika Virus, dogs, cats, and ferrets are mumbling “So? What are we? Chopped liver?”
Mosquitoes: not just annoying humans.
Heartworms are spread by mosquito bites, too (FDA.gov vet resource article)
If caught early, pets can be treated but the process is expensive and harsh. Animals must be kept quiet, with no exercise at all for at least a month after treatment. (Pictures of some actual worms. Article by vet).
King may be one oblivious little dog who can’t believe his good luck, but his story is having a big impact in ways he can’t imagine.
King’s rules: appreciate today and stop those little biters. Royal request.
Phil, the Philosopher Mouse of the Hedge.
King’s Bucket List Item #31.Get new toys. De-stuff them ASAP.(Houston Street Dogs Facebook)
There. A rattling before battle like soldiers thrashing swords against their shields to show resolve and create fear. That’s close to the sound.©
Cold comfort, the fireplace, the fleece, the chili. The wind’s fingers slipping between. Scouting.
Well, too bad. Time’s a-wasting and there’s enough competitions around to heat anything up.
Huddle around the TV and warm up to the 2016 Super Bowl commercials. Will the dachshunds make the leap? Will Mac get to run? Will every drop count? Will America really eat it up, Jack?
Oh, there’s a concert with a football game wrapped around it all, too.
There’s always politics if you’re a glutton for punishment and hot air. Everyone was so excited about a new Microsoft app to tally votes quickly, but then it all came down to low tech coin toss for a winner. How ironic. Even more humorous that the toss involved the Party which has a front-runner with a problem with technology.
Enough running and louse jousting.
Vintage stories would entertain better.
What would you think of a guy:
Who grew up picking 100 pounds of cotton a day – for enough days to buy a donkey – to bred to a horse for mule offspring to sell – to raise enough money to go to Harvard – to become a circuit riding lawyer in the West – to get elected to Congress – who backed down Wall Street and the Big Banks’ controls of loan money – to force the Secretary of Treasury to reveal documents that the IRS had been directed by him to hand out rebates to certain of his friends (Yes, the IRS has always been sketchy and a problem) – who became Speaker of the House – then Vice President (who knew better than anyone how to get men to the table to compromise and network success) – who almost became President if that woman hadn’t shoved the gun aimed at Roosevelt – and who even in his 90’s helped shaped the modern Democratic Party from his front porch including JFK?
Interested? Here’s an article with synopsis. (At the bottom check the list to see when the show will air in your area). A bit of a preview:
Vintage news reels and old photos are fascinating way to see how we got to where we are.
The Republicans became the Democrats. With a bit of progressivism nipping their heels along the way.
And his wife. No delicate prairie flower that one. Quite the independent minded woman for the era. Even Eleanor Roosevelt thought she had some solid ideas.
For comparison to current conventions, this excerpt of the 1932 Democratic Convention from the PBS show “Cactus Jack: Lone Star of Capital Hill”
So storm, you clouds.
Got plenty time warps and some smiles to play.
Phil, the Philosopher Mouse of the Hedge.
“Hold it. Drop that spoonful of sugar. Only thing refined around here is thought.” (USPD/Commons.wikimedia.org)
Anchored.©
The boat not boarded.
Everyone feels that at some point or another.
The idyllic life rocking at anchor in the middle of a lake on a Springlike day
Well, there’s the chop to contend with as it’s shallow.
But still. Or sort of still-ish. No neighbors anyway. Not today. With Mardi Gras going on, the loud motorcycles of the water, wave runners, and the endless parade of power boats are missing. A bit early for the “gotta get a tan” crowd.
Have to admire the boaters’ independence camping out there with the stiff frigid north winds that have been around so much this winter and are returning Monday with storms.
Yet another reason to hate Monday.
SOS. Boat down! Boat down! ©
This I can hate any day. Abandoned boat.
This sailboat like a faithful dog bravely waits by the road for its’ skipper. Day after day.
Washed up onto land during Hurricane Ike (Sept 13, 2008)
Mast still held high years later.
Waiting. Sure they will be back soon.
A sinking feeling every time I pass by. The hull’s damaged may be unseen. The insurance company must have paid off. But this boat was someone’s darling once.
At least put it out of its’ misery.
Sailboats were never meant to spend day after day like a goldfish out of water surrounded by weeds, concrete, and fishing boat trailers.
Have mercy. Hospice at least.
Forgotten sailboat hasn’t forgotten.
Difficult to not climb the chain link fence and take things into my own hands.
Maybe a salvage quick claim.
A rescue.
Even the dignity of a watery grave.
I’d want someone to do that for me.
Confused, the boat shivers in the wind. Listening to the singing of the halyards from the boat anchored in the lake.
A lullaby, perhaps.
Do you think boats comfort each other?
Lulling to sleep. Sleep.
Dreams of the deep.
Phil, the Philosopher Mouse of the Hedge.
If only another high tide. It’s not far. Slide down the slight slope and scrape past the breakwater, then alive once more. Deep sea dreaming ©
The ayes have it. (Kovalchek/Commons.wikimedia.org)
Thinking about it, Mardi Gras with all the masks, costumes, crowds of unknown party mates were simply an earlier form of technology’s opportunities: Wild abandon, excess, and freedom from reveal. Dancing along with identities hidden, things not always what they seem, and the knowledge of “what happens here, stays here, and nobody knows or sees.”
Yep, that’ll all get you in trouble: carnival or internet.
During one at-the-time rare class discussion out in nature under the trees with a popular cool professor, the purpose of Mardi Gras was expounded upon. (“Expounded”. University discussions required the appearance of an intellectual vocabulary)
“Humans neeeed” (The inflection noting “significant thought”. Interrupted by “Dude, don’t bogart that.”)
“Humans neeeed celebrations. Masks. To release their inner personalities and the baser instincts and desires. When society’s rules tightly restricts behavior it causes much internal conflict. An event where is acceptable for the individuals to let go – to free their hidden selves – is imperative. Then people can go back to being well behave citizens and function in polite society.”
Dancers of dark edges. (USPD/Commons.wikimedia.org)
Well, it went something like that.
Massive wild events are needed to exorcise dirty little thoughts and nasty little deeds or normal society will suffer.
Real Mardi Gras ain’t for the kiddies.
See? Just like the internet!
- “Facebook friends are almost entirely fake, finds study”
- “The Big Myth Facebook Needs Everyone to Believe”
- “How Facebook Tracks and Profits From Your “Likes”
- “Hour-by-hour Look at How a Conspiracy Theory Becomes ‘Truth’ on Facebook”
Hey, a few “Likes” or tossed beads go a long way. No hidden secret in that.
A more upbeat crowd. 1897 (USPD/Commons.wikimedia.org)
Mardi Gras 2016 starts Jan 29th in Galveston.
Bead there. A kingdom for a balcony pass. Yet another reason to own a golf cart.
While there’s informed about surviving hurricanes and blizzards, Mardi Gras Survival Guides are rare.
Grab these take-aways:
- Get an identity. Before leaving home base, use a permanent marker to write name, emergency contact information, and any medical issues on stomach or left arm. No, a note in your pocket will not be sufficient as those may be picked. A luggage tag on a string around the neck might work only if taped to chest so as not to get entangled with balcony rails or hands grabbing at your beads.
- Secure a Holder. No, not a drink holder – you got 2 hands, right? One for drink and one for, oh, your choice…like maybe a lamp post or railing. Each person needs a Designated Holder to hang on to you during bead collection efforts. Falling off balconies or under floats may be hazardous. Designated Holders must also stick like glue even if the totally awesome guy/masked lady says “Hey, my hotel room is right up down the dark alley and up the stairs. You can see it all there.”
- Plan a sober move. Look the cops have enough to worry about. Don’t make them have to make that call to your emergency contact asking them to pick up the pieces or make an ID. Go ahead and use that permanent marker to write Mom’s or Uber’s phone number on your right arm along with your destination just in case your cell phone is missing. And skip any offer to go for a moonlit walk the beach. No sleeping with the fishes.
- What? How to explain the not-a-tat markings on your arm later? Easy. Two words: “Mardi Gras” They’ll just nod.
Look, I got her home. Now someone else can hold her head out of the mess. (USPD/Commons.wikimedia.org)
One last toss of jewels?
“It has been said that a Scotchman has not seen the world until he has seen Edinburgh; and I think that I may say that and American has not seen the United States until he has seen Mardi-Gras in New Orleans. “(Mark Twain, 1859.)
“The most important kind of freedom is to be what you really are. You trade in your reality for a role. You give up your ability to feel, and in exchange, put on a mask” (Jim Morrison, The Doors)
“Man is least himself when he talks in his own person. Give him a mask, and he will tell you the truth.” (Oscar Wilde)
OK, Weekenders, power on, masks up, and stay safe out/in there.
Phil, the Philosopher Mouse of the Hedge
Mardi Gras old school style. Vintage post card of Houston Carnival Float, No-Tsu-Oh Carnival.(1899-1917.UH lib.special collections/USPD/Commons.wikimedia.org)
Gaps are such an annoyance. In teeth. In clothing. In thinking.
So, interested in a lively game of Muse or Dunderhead?
Nothing is too big a leap for a dunderhead.(USPD/Commons.wikimedia.org)
Entry #1. A Groupon deal that might appeal. Game to hit? Ballsy for you.
Warm up with an 18-hole round of golf plus cart rental for 1-4 persons at up to 64% off at Galveston’s Moody Garden. (Ah, lured by a lovely emerald image. Photoshop is such a wonder.)
But the description of the deal will leave you wondering even more:
“Golf is doubly relaxing because it’s a calm game in the verdant outdoors and because there are no families there having feelings at you.” (View the Groupon)
Yep, the barbarians are at the gate.
“No, that’s definitely a downer.”(Green Willow and other Japanese fairy tales/USPD/Commons.wikimedia.org)
Entry #2. Once compulsive neat freaks were the object of scorn and laughter, but now? Ka-ching!
According to best-selling Japanese author and guru Marie Kondo, “Transforming your life begins with your sock drawer.”
She’s on tour where you can watch her fold clothes and listen to her philosophy of “Only keep things that bring you joy.”
Sounds simple enough. It was her college thesis.
Part of her system is to put all like objects, such as books, in one room, then sort this way: “‘It’s important to touch every item and hold it with your hands,’ Kondo explains. Your body actually has a physical reaction. You either feel uplifted or you sink down.”
Get rid of the downers. (Wait. Not a recommendation to gulp pills,)
Her app will be ready to download soon.
So if you’re suffering cabin fever, start feeling up your possessions. (Not sure how caches of kittens or packs of pups fit into the movement.)
“A buzz? But there are no open containers full of water in here.” (USPD/Commons.wikimedia.org)
Entry #3. A tandem pair of Jay Leno-style Headlines to scratch your head over.
Say in rapid succession:
“Cases suggest Zika Virus could be spread through sex”
“Brazil sends in 200,000 soldiers to stop the spread.”
Now think about that for a second. (This is where Leno always put his head on the desk and tried to keep from giggling.)
All those healthy handsome young men in uniform who are hot (Hot temperatures – it’s Brazil) going door to door greeting and talking to residents – many of whom are hot, young women. And the 2016 Rio Carnival is warming up for Samba, merry-making, parades, street parties, balls, and hot costumes…Samba. Not your Sunday School Hokey-Pokey.
Whew. Whether Muses or Dunderheads, so much to gape over.
Enough, perhaps, to fill a small gap in your wandering reality.
Nothing better than a little dundering and musing.
Phil, the Philosopher Mouse of the Hedge.
Enough word waltzing. Time to step on outta here. (1920.USPD/Commons.wikimedia.org)
Wait. A new bus stop? Someone being overly compassionate for kids, walkers, and door to door salesmen? (You know you feel for them but won’t let them inside the house even for “an emergency.” Sigh. Realities of modern life.) ©
Convenience. Compassion. Political statement.
Probably finally cracked.
Cabin fever. Some turn to snow diving and others to home projects.
Ideas swirled. Overflowed.
Hope Home Depot was open. You know how it is once you start a project. “Updating looked so easy on the DIY shows.” “While you’re at it, why not just do them all?” Wonder how the rest of the household feels about the take-outs now that it’s Monday and there’s work/school to be done.
Not sure how it all flushed out at this residence, but the HOA is bound to not consider these “ornamental lawn furniture.” Suppose you could argue Constructionist Style, but bad idea to flip your lid in their faces.
Will be interested in seeing what’s in the pipeline for this place.
Could be an extreme reaction to that age-old controversy “lid up – lid down – or else!”
As private investigators and dogs always say, you can tell a lot about a person by their garbage pile.
(Memo to extreme home crashers: Habitat for Humanity ReStores. “Good deal for you, your community, and the environment.” Trash to you; treasure for others.)
Always avoid the drips and poodles.
Phil, the Philosopher Mouse of the Hedge.
They look so official. Unaware of their crushing fate.©
There is no telling what this is. Not a clue. Looks frosty, thought.©
Not as difficult as thought to find snow body to love – even from the warmth of your own couch.
A blizzard of flaky stuff to amuse. So dive in, disregard that old “always avoid hurting people’s feelings”, and share the lunch.
Some NFL fans had their travel plans chilled, but they tried to take to the air to get to the stadiums any way they could: Snow divers.
No doubt the local birds, hunkered down, muttered to themselves, “Not enough sense to get out of the cold. And they call us bird brained.”
Can’t stop a true NFL fan. Might be desperate attempts to share the football frenzy by tailgating at home..if they could only find the grill.
Fans don’t go down easy. A fact that worried the Boston mayor. Snow divers beware.
- Weather Chanel’s Boston Blizzard Challenge. (Diving into snow not an Olympic event.. yet. The good and bad of this new sport could actually freeze you.)
- Snow divers with real Olympic style and grace (Nothing stops those training for Rio’s Olympics? ABC news.)
- Naked Cowboy plays on in NYC’s Times Square. (Creativity doesn’t take a snow day. ABC news)
A brief of another sort – a request out of kindness.
Although she’s got her game face on, Hillary Clinton may be getting set up to freeze in her tracks.
Chilly morning sunflower. Easy to get blindsided.©
Would someone please tell her she may only be a candidate decoy? Again.
It sure looks like the Democrats are smiling and shoving her out front and center to drive the Republican candidates wild and crazy – like moths battering themselves against a lantern shining in the dark – shaking out all the skeletons, scandals, bad blood, and episodes of bad judgement – eventually leaving only one lone Republican survivor who is tattered, tired, and bloody Then at the last minute, out pops a fresh, new, unsullied, energetic Democratic candidate from the back room meetings. People like new.
Better than one with so many touchy issues and scandals that may be in the deep freeze, but not forgotten and are quick to thaw.
It looks to me that’s the way this whole mess is drifting. (Any cold guesses who? Biden and Kerry? Bernie and Warren? Webb? (Not sure the Party likes him much.) I know what Biden says, but…
In any case, it’s brutally, unkind to Hillary. Snowing her like this.
Not to mention the general public is ready to leap onto ice floes to escape the political ranting.
Meanwhile, drifting on to something a bit more warming:
This is clouds lined up on Saturday. (No frowns, it’s back to grey skies now with an approaching front.) ©
What if you were out with your wife and kids and someone passed you this note?
“Sir I was so impressed with your family tonight. Your children were well-mannered and courteous. You two should be proud as parents. You both have done well. It was my pleasure to pay your bill tonight. Your family is truly a breath of fresh air in the days of children screaming and running around. Have a blessed day and week.”
That’s what happened locally last week when a family with five kids ranging in age from 4 to 14 yrs went out to eat. (news video/story)
Impressive.
Both the well behaved children and the observer who decided to unexpectedly to reward those making a positive effort to be good.
That should take the chill off the room and warm your heart.
Snow angels are out there.
Phil, the Philosopher Mouse of the Hedge.
Hey, squint a bit and look behind the lighthouse. Mountains just like Denver’s Front Range? Nah, clouds building as a front approaches the lake. It’s flat as a pancake here, but we can pretend. ©
Three Mexican palms decoding the message in the sky©
A bit star struck. (Shouldn’t that be “star amazed”? It’s not a contact sport. “Struck” sounds so violent. Not normally associated with stars, right? Oh? Just move on. Continuing.)
Show-offs? Prognosticators? Or a tease? What’s the real drama behind the grand show arching across from Southeast to Southwest. Of course, just before dawn. A bet to see just how many of the “Little People” they can coax out of their petty little routines to gawk at the rare planetary lineup? Big names involved: Mercury, Venus, Saturn, Mars, and Jupiter.
Planet Hollywood could never be as bright. (Stop. Not talking about the people there, people)
Lights! Cameras! Starry eyed Gloria Swanson. (1919.USPD/Commons.wikimedia.org)
Is this over-the-top appearance in response to earth’s inhabitants spacey efforts to swing on a star?
A bit of planetary boasting? “Na-na-na-na-boo-boo. Still can’t get up here.”
Or a bit of peek-a-boo hiding a ninth planet? A “Coming Soon” publicity stunt. Holding out on us. Saving the best for last.
The Universe does have a sense of humor.
Of course self-esteem enthusiasts and optimists won’t see the tease – only a lighted path to follow and some starry encouragement. It’s the Milky Way is half full, not half empty mindset.
Universe’s electric tangle. Veil Nebula Supernova Remnant.(USPD.NASA.gov/multimedia/imagegallery
In any case, here’s more star power:
- Prof. Stephen Hawkins believes humans must “spread out into space to avoid earth disaster.” In this article on BBC.com/science, Hawkins says, “”However, we will not establish self-sustaining colonies in space for at least the next hundred years, so we have to be very careful in this period.” Prof. Hawkins will be giving the BBC Reith Lectures on January, 26 and on February, 2 at 9am on BBC Radio 4. Transcripts will be posted on-line by BBC News.
- “January 2016 Guide to the five visible planets” (“Updates on your cosmos and world.” by earthsky.org. Intriguing sky and space info/images.)
- “Hillary Clinton promises to investigate UFOs!” (Conway Daily Sun, Dec.30,2015)
Who is to say a star child hasn’t already visited?(Gloria Swanson/USPD/Commons.wikimedia.org)
That should be enough to make sure that the paparazzi isn’t the only ones stalking stars.
To infinity and beyond, amigos!
Phil, the Philosopher Mouse of the Hedge
Suggested travel fashion for pregnant women headed to the Olympics in Rio. And people say the space program was a waste of money.(USPD.NASA.gov/multimedia/imagegallery)
They sure got mad when they noticed her focusing intently on that farmersonly.com ad.
“We have better plans for you than that!” An arranged marriage was unavoidable.”When you are old enough. When you’re ready.”
Well, speaking delicately, an indisputable sign said she was now ready.
Fielding her dreams.(USPD/Commons.wikimedia.org)
Enter the all business Matchmaker with her endless list of questions:
- Did she prefer indoors or outdoors? (That got her hopes up.)
- Could she settle for walking as entertainment as well as exercise?
- Was she an early riser?
- Have trouble falling to sleep?
- How did she feel about polygamy?
- Could she be polite and patient with the elderly? Even a fussy ancient auntie?
- Big dogs scare her?
- Does she like cats? (Not one laugh when she snorted, “Yes, for breakfast and lunch.” No. They scowled. A lot.)
After enduring all the questioning, she still wasn’t dismissed to go out and play. Maybe her days of play were over.
They ordered her to walk back and forth. Forth and back. And again.
A bit of discussion. Perhaps she was just tired, the Matchmaker said – not kindly. Suggestions were tossed at her. “Hold your head up. Shoulders back. Walk proudly. Think ballerina, not clodhopper.”
Finally, she was able to sit.
And that was criticized, too. Demurely cross feet at the ankle, they said. Sit still. Don’t fidget.
She sought a place. One where no matter how you walked, it was perfect. (USPD/Commons.wikimedia.org)
It was hard to feel worthy of any match by then.
Trying to listen through a thickening fog of doubts, she knew she must try. No choice.
They had such hopes for her.
Now in the car, she vibrated with nervousness.
Afraid to look at the world blurring past the windows.
Glancing at the Matchmaker for some sign of approval and encouragement.
What she got was a flow of words about the area like a travelogue.
Occasionally, a directive to sit still and not scratch. Especially not scratch. “A lady of quality does not scratch.”
But she was only a little lady. And only on the inside. How she manage?
The house was so large. Her steps small. The matchmaker did not rush her. She was grateful for this small kindness.
Oh, the parents. Must make a good impression! Was her collar straight, she fretted. She didn’t dare reach to check.
Simply staged. Costumed for the performance. Could she field enough questions to gain their approval?(USPD/Commons.wikimedia.org)
A gracious welcome inside. Oh, so warm and bright.
She sat as prettily as possible. Head up. Hoping her hair was shiny enough. Her eyes sparkling at all the windows overlooking the backyard.
Still. Show a calm disposition. A small smile. Not too big, they had said. Certainly not toothy.
Behind her there was a click, click, click across the hardwood floor.
Oh, that must be the picky old maiden aunt. Oh.
The body language of the others told her this was who would decide her fate.
The Grand Dame paced back and forth not taking eyes off the her.
Looking down that long nose.
The soft, not too stern, voice surprised her “What do they call you?”
Shifting unavoidably out of nervousness. “They call me Bella, or Ella, or I answer to just about anything if there’s food – and a kind word.
She blurted it out! Ruined everything. If wishes were horses, she’d be fields away. (USPD/Commons.wikimedia.org)
Silence. Seemed like it lasted forever.
Like a magic spell being spun.
Then, with great grace, a courtly downward dog bow as the resident German Shepherd gently said, “Ella. Enchanted. Your happily ever after begins today. Welcome forever home.”
You passed the interview. We choose you. Fear no more. Your dreams not so far afield. ©
Molly Malamute is pleased to share this from her BFF, The German, who in her infinite wisdom, has selected a young RC-in-Training for her Realm.
“A Mini-Me,” she boasts. “Reminds me of myself. That Mo cat lump is simply too befuddled and only thinks of food, the addict. Must be barked at watched every minute and kept exercising. His tiny orange side kick, Little, has shown no interest in operations or management of the Realm. So as advised by RC Cat, We put out notice of a vacancy. Miss Ella Enchanted responded and has met with approval by all. She will need to rest and fatten up a bit (not to Murphy standards), but she has been rescued from uncertain life on the streets after fleeing an unsuitable, brutal home. But all are confident she has made her way to where she always was meant to be: to her field of dreams.”
Don’t worry kid. We’ll have a field day in the back yard.©
Don’t mind me. I’m just staff. (Tiptoeing quietly out)
Phil, the Philosopher Mouse of the Hedge
OK. Fielding requests for an official portrait.©
Those sneaky rainbows hiding in plain sight.(Don Ho’s album cover for Hawaii’s Greatest Hits.Kevin Dooley/Flickr/Commons.wikimedia.org)
Surf’s not the only thing up in Hawaii.
About 20 years ago, the papaya family took a dive. Couldn’t stand another day. They thought an isolated island existence was a safe paradise, then it was spotted. Hitchhiked in on an aphid. The ringspot virus felled the majority of papaya trees on the big island within 3 years.
Evolution (here meaning “change” or a species adaptation) sped up as Dennis Gonsalves, a pathologist born on Hawaii, tried something that worked in humans – using the disease to defeat itself – like a vaccine to gain disease immunity.
Only Gonsalves and his team isolated DNA from the papaya ringspot virus and inserted it into a papaya seed’s DNA.
Yep, a little bit of genetic engineering for a GMO called Rainbow papaya which saved the farm, jobs, and cuisine.
A real seedy topic, GMO’s.
Stop. Don’t take another step towards that papaya you ugly aphid! (1960″Hawaiian Eye” Warner Bro./USPD/Commons.wikimedia.org)
Who knew over 90% of all soy crops are GMO crops? Soy. That healthy stuff.
Eating healthy is getting complicated.
Marcia Ishii-Eitman of the Pesticide Action Network is concerned about big corporations having so much control over food production.
On the other hand it is true that humans have altered food sources for a long time by saving seeds from only the best plants for the next season or by methods like grafting.
Dr Pam Ronald, whose husband is a certified organic farmer, likes to compare modern sweet corn-on-the-cob to its’ ancient ancestor which looks an awful lot like some wild stuff growing next to the cattails in the ditch. Ancient corn only has about 6-8 kernels of corn on a stalk.
With that, it would take a whole lot of hunting and gathering to make tortillas for weekend fajitas.
CBS’s video report “Food fight over GMO” chews up the debate.
Look for that ancient corn-stalk as well as that “I-can’t-go-on” papaya forest of 20 years ago.
A picture is worth a thousand words.
Or you can read the transcript: “Digging for seeds of truth in GMO debate”
Both sides are presented. And I kinda winced at statements from each.
While, Ronald is right, we do need efficient plants and that droughts/disease are a pretty big threat, I’m wondering about the modified corn/plants being GMO-ed to be “immune” to weed killers, so the farms can spray and not damage the crop. (Tractor spraying shown in video)
A real timesaver. Who really wants to get out with a hoe and chop up and down dirt rows anymore? Not me. UGH. (Even gloves don’t help. Don’t fall for that.)
Real Hawaiian with a punch. Duke Paoa Kahanamoku with Waikiki board(USPD/Commons.wikimedia.org)
If you know anything about Round-up, you know once that stuff is spilled/sprayed on the ground, NOTHING grows – for some time. Dead soil. Sort-of limits your options.
A sprayed crop gets the stuff on the leaves and stalk, but it supposedly doesn’t “inhale”, right? And the roots just don’t get earthy and suck it up from the soil like nutrients?
Maybe a botanist can shed some light on absorption and roots blocking out the bad stuff.
Have to wonder if it’s as effective as telling Fire Ants they can’t come across the Southern border.
“Hawaiian Eye”had them before Tiny Tim.(Troy Donahue.1959 ABC/USPD/Commons.wikimedia.org)
Whichever side you’re on, it’s never corny to gather any information that pops up.
Besides, who doesn’t like a video of Hawaii?
(And over 90% of soy? Who knew?)
Cultivating opinions
Phil, the Philosopher Mouse of the Hedge.
More to help to ground up grains of thought:
- Food Safety News. “Big Island’s Papaya Growers Say Exemption from New GE Ban Isn’t Enough” (Good discussion including Hawaii’s economic concerns: Ag. land values, the nursery industry, activists’ impact. Sick bananas are current issue,too. Noooo! Not bunchy top!)
- Hawaii Papaya Industry Association. “Rainbow Papaya Story.
- Hawaii Tribune-Herald. “Papaya: A GMO Success Story”
- WIKI. “Papaya Ringspot Virus”
Remember. No matter what they say, flowers are not a substitute for bathing even on a tropical island. (Jack Lord.1968 “Hawaii Five-O”. CBS/USPD/Commons.wikimedia.org)
It’s January. Normally cabin fever could be blamed for the weirdness. Soggy will have to be an acceptable substitute. This new year is already floating out some “First in Show.”
Made for anything: sun, wind, water, insects. (S.Lebrigand/Commons.wikimedia.org)
Willful winds are whipping up trouble out of assigned order.
For your amusement in the Atlantic, Alex the first hurricane season of the year. Unusual, but not unheard of. In 1955 there was Alice, and before that there was what’s-her-name in 1938. Luckily it’s way out there, headed to Greenland’s cold waters which will smack some sense into the upstart. Hopefully, the winds and waves will affect few. Hurricane warnings have been issued for the central and eastern Azores. (NASA’s eye on this storm here and an animated video of Alex’s development)
Tropical storm tracks.1985-2005 /NASA/USPD/Commons.wikimedia.org)
And not to be outdone, the Pacific Ocean is hosting the loopy, erratic Pali, which is breaking records as the earliest hurricane ever recorded in the Central Pacific Basin. Currently Pali has a well-defined eye with storm bands and maximum winds of 90 miles (140 kilometers) per hour, but it seems undecided whether to sustain being a hurricane. It was a cat-2 on Jan 12, but now a cat-1 storm. Not too near Hawaii, though. And if the timing isn’t odd enough, if Pali wanders south and crosses the equator, the hurricane would change and become a first in history of recorded tropical cyclones to do that. (Picture/ NASA’s take on Pali here.)
El Nino: galoshes and Wellies. Noted. Got the memo.
Got carried away by storms.(Kidnapped by Whirlwind the Whistler / USPD/Commons.wikimedia.org)
Speaking of strangeness and isolated islands, Remember that movie The Island of Doctor Moreau with Marlon Brando? (summary)
Like many things that have come to pass, science fiction is close to science fact. It has to do with human and animal DNA, growing organs, and medical advancement.
MIT Technology Review Article. (Biomedicine News.) “Human-Animal Chimeras Are Gestating on U.S. Research Farms.” “A radical new approach to generating human organs is to grow them inside pigs or sheep.”
Squirming a bit? What if some of the human transplanted DNA cells migrated to the animal’s brain? I do confess I, too, would worry about “The specter of an intelligent mouse stuck somewhere screaming, ‘I want to get out’ …”
Doctor Moreau explores that potential. Check out some movie quotes to ponder. Might give you pause – and maybe a few shivers….
You know how some authors seem to see the future….
“Hey, the show’s about to start. Where the grub?”(K.Rosebraugh/Commons.wikimedia.org)
Of course the animal advocates will be on the front lines protesting: Worse than eating meeeeeat.
Raising animal only to kill them by harvesting a “grown” organ for transplant so a human can live.
PETA will love that.
But what if patients, once cured, were forced to take home the bacon?
Is there a way to grow an organ, surgically remove it for transplant, then retire the donor animal to live out its’ days in peace instead of in pieces in return for its noble assistance?
“OK, Patient X, yes, we can get you a new body part, but then you must take your donor animal home and treat it as part of the family for the rest of its natural life. Animal welfare agents will be making home visits to see that your brave little thing is being treated well. Now do you want a pig or a sheep? Pigs are smart, but lambs might be better couch companions with their cozy fleece.”
“I don’t care if it does share your DNA. Get it off my pillow.” (Universal/USPD/Commons.wikimedia.org)
Well, you can see where things are going.
Would subdivisions, condos, and neighborhoods be forced to change their livestock bans? After all, these donor animals are heroes of a sort.
Would there be a new home trend for donor animal accommodations?
Could the Chimera of mythology and legends be the next high fashion pet?
Winter shadows splash on walls and mind.
Water well, and who knows what in time.
Phil, the Philosopher Mouse of the Hedge
What do you mean housing livestock is against HOA deed restrictions? But it’s like part of her. (Universal/USPD/Commons.wkimedia.org)
Philosopher Mouse of the Hedge 