Studin is hard

   I have over the last few weeks been reading scientific papers concerning the anthropological discovery of an ancient hominid.  She is a near total skeleton of a female.  It is quite a discovery.  The team spent not just ten years digging at the site.  But also, examining all that was found in the strata-that means the layer of dirt at that level-with her.

Not including the introduction, I have gone through two and half of the associated papers. What makes it hard for me is the use of all the scientific terms.  Some of these things I can decipher.  Others not so much.  But I do have a dictionary and wade through most of it.  Do you know what a hollox or a pollex are?  They are the big toe and thumb.  Why they can’t just say that is beyond me.  Neither of them take any more space or ink.  But, scientists need to explain themselves precisely.

In any case I am slowly working my way through the findings.  And at some point I will know enough about Ardipithecus ramidus to bore those who ask me, “What ya been doing lately?”.  I could say that I have been studying the origins of humanity.  But then their eyes would glaze over as I lay out the stories of metacarpals, pelvises, hollox, pollex and all of the strange things I have yet to learn.

Didnt want to do it

   Our spring time appears to have changed.  The weather stays wet and coolish.  This is now the third year that it has stretched out.  The first year was a bother,  The second annoying.  And this year I think that I am getting used to a drawn out spring.

It is not that spring itself is no where to be found, it is all around.  The grass is growing, the daffodils are in bloom, the hummingbirds are back.  Even the buzzards are floating around.  The buzzards were early.  The daffodils and hummingbirds were a little late.  This is pretty much the way it has been over the last three years.

The idyllic springs of yesteryear have slipped both into the past and into memory.  I have realized that this could very well be the new norm.  The thing that set me off is that here I am in the first part of April and I’m still buying pellets to heat the house.  I thought that I was pretty slick getting by with only three tons.  But, Here comes a brand new spring dragging it’s sorry butt along like that old man at the end of the year.  Global climate change is happening, Not necessarily the way we think.  But it is taking place.

Now I lay me down to sleep

   I do not spend an inordinate amount of time watching the T.V..  But I do watch.  One of the things that has caught my attention and caused me to wonder; is the number of ads for mattress stores.

The different advertisers all seem to have multiple stores, each with their own sales and give aways. That is a lot of mattresses.  My guess is at least four different outlets with multiple franchises.  That is not counting the furniture stores who also offer mattresses and bedding.

This has led me to a whole range of questions.  Do people trade in their mattress every year the way people do with cars?  Is there a particular reason for the yearly change of mattress styles? Do enough people buy a mattress every year to justify the production of so many mattresses?

Now, some might say, “Well, just think of all of the hotels and motels”.  But, I would guess that such places buy in bulk from a central purchaser.  And judging from the beds I have slept on the mattresses are not anywhere near the top of the product line.

Then there is the question, what is done with the used mattresses?  I have heard that there are places that recycle for re-use of the material.  But still thats a lot of mattresses.

One long , two short

   I think that was our phone ring when we moved out into the township.  We were on a party line with six other families.  It was the new electronic back fence.  The surreptitious eaves drop and instigator of gossip. The acquisition of a family line gave a sense of privacy and simple security.

I could say “Oh how things have changed”.  But, that would just be an old persons lament.  The modern truth is that with the NSA and the other alphabet agencies, we are being listened to all of the time.  I, personally believe that the eaves dropping is still going on and that most of it is only back fence gossip.  All held up under the guise of “National Security”.

I am not sure it really matters though.  If one considers the plethora of social media, the twitters, facebooks, blogs, you tubes, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera.  I am not sure if we even care about privacy.  People put things out in the ether that they wouldn’t consider doing any place else.  Naughty pictures, foul mouthed attitudes,  snotty confrontational opinions.  It is there for all.

Maybe it shows our lack of civility and manners.  It might be a way to emphasize our opinions.  The other thought is; that all of this is just a lustful quest for our Andy Warhol granted fifteen minutes of famous.

Something New

   I am often told that you should learn something new every day.  Well, the problem with that is sooner or later that something new gets lost.  Maybe, because it is of no real use or you just don’t use it at all.  It is tough to imagine that there isn’t enough room in the brain pan to store everything.

There are things that just slip or have no real importance.  My latest slip was not knowing this was a leap year.  No big deal.  I have over the years lost a day here and there.  But, they always seem to catch up with me.  Or vice a versa.

I do, however, still learn new things.  Most recently I learned that the body produces a quart of mucus a day.  Both curious and icky isn’t it?  I imagine that is on average among people.  The last few days I can testify as to my own production of that viscous fluid.  We all have our own stories concerning mucus production, so I don’t need to go into all the icky stuff that we associate with it.

My difficulty is how do I take this new found information and work it into a conversation, without bringing up the icky?

They got it right

   My colony of moles have finally forecast an incoming storm.  I have seen in past years as the moles correctly gave me warning to approaching storms.  This year they haven’t quite gotten their predications right.  There has been a disconnect between mole hills popping up and storms coming in from the Pacific.

This year the heavy winds and buckets of rain have been pushed to the North.  I am not sure why.  It might be because of some geo-physical reason.  A waffling la nina, the big time quakes (one in Japan, one in Chile) or some other unseen thing that has upset the normal flow of weather.

I have noticed that many of the big Western Pacific storms that follow the Japanese current from the west up around the Pacific basin, have been pushed north into Russia or to the Northeast into Alaska or the West coast of Canada.  The early fall storms that come roaring onto the coast of Oregon didn’t arrive.

I noticed this because Sister Nancy has had to hold onto the Bellingham hillside where she lives, to keep from being washed into the bay.  And the rain that we have gotten here has been below average.

However,  my moles correctly predicted this past storm that dumped nine inches of rain in two days.  Being fair they did predict the storms that were pushed North.  I think I will start calling Nancy the next time my moles become active.  She has none of her own and might appreciate if I let her know when the next big storm is heading her way.

Socks

I used to get socks twice a year.  Once in the fall when we went back to school and again at Christmas.  Whoopee!  However, over the years I have learned to appreciate that piece of clothing.  They keep your feet warm, cushion you when you walk.

They can also be used for a variety of other purposes.  Mittens is the first that comes to me.  But, there is a host of others also.  bandage, rags, or to stuff with valuables. What I have recently been using them for is a chew toy.

No, not for me.  I have bought all sorts of bones and chew toys.  Most of the rawhide bones Goldie won’t even venture a sniff.  They lay tucked into the back of her hutch.  Tennis balls she devours.  She doesn’t play catch, she just lays down with the ball between her paws and proceeds to chew and bite. Leaving only bits of green fuzz and small chunks of rubber.  The same goes for baseballs, sans green fuzz.

I caught her chewing one of my socks one day.  Well, I put a stop to that!  I started picking up my socks. I had gotten her a rag woven bone a week before and she tore it up.  Thinking about it as I watched her.  It was as if  she was trying to untie the knot with her teeth.  In any case I now had a pair of socks with holes.  So I tied them together and said fetch.

This arrangement seems to be working rather well.  She runs, fetches, she chews.  There is some reason that chew toy has lasted longer than any other. But that is in her head. And as it turns out I have a rather large cache of socks with holes in them.

Happy Solstice

May your joys and happiness be as many as the leaves of the great oak.  May your cares and worries melt as snow in the warm sun.  May your heart be filled with kindness and your life be long.

Two Tons

I’ve gotten my second pallet of pellets for the year.  Fifty bags at forty pounds each.  That makes a ton.  We’ve been burning more these past two weeks.  The weather here has turned chilly to cold.  The days are sunny, bright and nice.  Chilly but nice.  The nights have stayed clear and cold.

The local Krealings say that we are in a La Nina.  But the weather pattern has been pushed north of us.  We haven’t had rain since November.  Just this chilly to cold temperature range 40’s daytime 20’s at night.  The only time it clouded over was the morning of the Lunar eclipse, go figure.

Honestly, I look at the ocean data every day and have no more of a clue than anyone.  I have noticed that the yearly storms that come across the Pacific and wet us down are being pushed north into Kamchatka and Siberia.  Or across into Canada and Alaska, when they do get to this side of the ocean.   There is a tremendous amount of moisture in the air.  But again, what to make of it?

Armistice Day

   On the eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month of 1918 the guns fell silent on the Western Front.  The Great War was over.  It had been horrendous, with ten million dead and twenty million wounded.   Those numbers do not reflect civilian causalities nor the fifteen million who died of influenza during the war.  It was brutal, savage, and endless.  A whole generation of men,was erased.  So terrible was it, that in Earnest it was labeled “The War to end all Wars”.

Many of the weapons that were used first came to fruition; in fact were invented for use in our Civil War.  Rifled breached loading cannon, steel hulled battleships, submarines, revolving turrets, even balloons for forward observation. Gens Grant and Lee saw what at that time was modern warfare.  They would have retched had they seen what happened on the Western Front.

There were other inventions unique to the war.  Mustard gas, Nerve gas; both truly ugly things.  But on November eleventh 1918 at eleven AM the fighting on The Western Front ceased.

We now use this day to commemorate all of our nation’s fighting men and women.  It is a noble sentiment.  However,  I believe that we should remember this day for what it was: The end of a horrific war, a dark stain on humanities face.  The mark of Cain if you will.