Random thoughts

We all have them, thoughts that come and go and leave us pondering the meaning of life. Important thoughts and speculation which leave us pondering as to, for example, who was that missed phone or cell call that didn't register on the callers list. 

Chances are nearly everyone reading this owns a cell phone. For the longest time, it was the be-all-and-end-all of my life's desires or at least close to that to own a cell phone. Why you may well be asking and the answer is quite simple: everyone else owns one.

The first challenge was to memorize the cell phone number. Life these days is so filled with numbers and codes to remember including passwords, and asking the brain to set aside still another set of numbers is asking a lot. The first challenge is to remember to put it on. The second challenge is to remember to take it with me and choosing which zippered purse compartment to store it.
Couldn't figure out why phone calls were few and far between for the longest time until it was pointed out that storing the phone in a purse muffles the sound of the ring. This became apparent upon checking the callers list with a long line up of messages. It now travels in a coat pocket within hearing range and where it can be accessed when necessary.

The proliferation of phones and other communication devices owned by everyone makes it difficult to distinguish which phone is ringing, generating everyone within hearing range to check their phones for visual and aural verification. Walking now is relegated to staring down at one's hand holding a communication device to ensure that every sent message is acknowledged and returned.

According to information gleaned from the Pew Research Internet Project focusing on Teens and Technology 2013  http://www.pewinternet.org/2013/03/13/teens-and-technology-2013/ 78% of teens own cell phones, and 90% of adults own a cell phone. That's a lot of talking on the go.

Furthermore:

- 67% of cell owners find themselves checking their phone for messages, alerts, or calls — even when they don’t notice their phone ringing or vibrating.
- 44% of cell owners have slept with their phone next to their bed because they wanted to make sure they didn’t miss any calls, text messages, or other updates during the night. (http://www.pewinternet.org/fact-sheets/mobile-technology-fact-sheet/)

At one time and it wasn't "that" long ago but seems like ancient history, people connected with each other via a plastic phones attached to a cord eventually evolving into cordless phones for usage in the house. The phone rang, someone answered - or not - or an answering device took a message. In spite of installing all the call answering options including call display, the answering machine still has a function in our household. 

Somehow, we're at a place in society where we feel compelled to be in constant communication with someone, twenty four hours a day. The business community as a money saving move, presumably, seldom supplies a real human to provide information and instead offers callers a list of categories from which to choose, accompanied by numbers to press. While waiting to be served, we are supplied with vague electronic music or singers performing oldies with brief interruptions of: "please stay on the line to retain your calling priority." By the time a call is answered, one has forgotten the reason for the call.

Texting has eliminated the actual need to hear a human voice and thumbs have become a vital component or communication tool. Holding an electronic device and texting has turned into a fashion statement. Physicians could be treating carpal tunnel syndrome of the thumb at some point. But I digress.

We've come a long way from the first telephone call made by Alexander Graham Bell in 1876, spoken to his assistant, Thomas Watson, in which he said: "Mr. Watson--come here--I want to see you."

Indeed.

THE DREIDL KING - A MIRACLE OF A DIFFERENT KIND

Origin of DREIDEL

Yiddish dreydl, from dreyen to turn, from Middle High German drǣjen, from Old High German drāen — more at throw

First Known Use: 1916

 

:  a 4-sided toy marked with Hebrew letters and spun like a top in a game of chance

 

:  a children's game of chance played especially at Hanukkah with a dreidel

It's time for the annual posting and sharing of my Chanukah short story first written some years back. Tweaked and edited over the years, reading it always makes me smile - and brings back memories of Zelig. Hopefully, it will do the same for anyone reading this. Even small miracles come in different and unexpected ways. This year, the holiday of Chanukah begins on December 16 and lasts for eight days.


There was the usual sense of excitement among students attending the Chavarim Afternoon Hebrew School a couple weeks before the onset of Chanukah. Throughout the school spinning dreidels whirled around the floor surface in anticipation of the annual competition held on the first night of Chanukah. Even then practice was no guarantee of a successful outcome of deposing "the dreidel king" who was defending his title for the fourth year in a row.

If there was anyone who personified the ideal qualities in a student it was Zelig Bornstein. At ten years of age he could do no wrong. A brilliant student academically, he was also blessed with the voice of an angel and it was a given that he would sing the part of lead candle in the annual Chanukah concert. As if that wasn't enough to cause jealousy and rivalry among classmates, he always won the much anticipated annual dreidel competition.

Among the students of Mr. Meldrum's class, there was the general belief that his cobalt blue dreidel with gold lettering on the sides possessed magical properties. There could be no other explanation to account for his perpetual dominance other than a mysterious and powerful outside source was at work, unavailable to his classmates. A few brave participants had come close to deposing him but somehow Zelig always managed to win out in the end. To further undermine his competitors confidence "The Dreidel King" did nothing to dispel the air of mystery surrounding his acumen.

"It's all right here," he would boast when asked the secret of his success, pointing to his wrist and flicking his fingers one-by-one to demonstrate his unbeatable technique, "and my magical dreidel of course.”

He never divulged any background information on how it was acquired and neither would he allow anyone to touch it much less give it a spin, further adding to the mystique.

"He" doesn't like leaving my hands," he would proffer in the way of an excuse, speaking of his
top as if it was a living thing or a pet.

Externally, I professed animosity towards him as did the others, but internally I adored him from afar. However, this did not diminish my desire to win and I practiced fervently in the hope of improving my spin. I longed to emerge victorious if for no other reason than to make Zelig aware that I was alive or at least be aware of my presence. At our age, it wasn't considered socially unacceptable to acknowledge the existence of the opposite sex, and even if he did harbor some stirrings of romantic feelings, he hid them well from me.

It would be fair to say that nearly every student in Mr. Meldrum's class dreamed of wresting the title away from him. We discussed the situation amongst ourselves, plotting a course of action that could de-throne him. Dreidel tossing techniques were assessed including "spit-shots" in which the "toss-ee" would spit or lick fingers to acquire more control of the toss, disallowed by Mr. Meldrum for hygienic reasons. Finger exercises were evaluated in addition to the benefits of knuckle cracking workouts before the competition, all of which were eventually discarded as ineffectual. Deep down inside we knew that the end result was out of our hands in the true sense of the word and in those of the fates. There was always the glimmer of hope that perhaps the fates would smile on one of us. Any one of us - except Zelig.

On the day of the competition, like a conquering hero, "King" Zelig took center-stage tossing his dreidel from hand-to-hand as he walked, attempting to psyche out the participants. It was a piece of pure theatre as he produced a blue satin drawstring bag and reaching in, retrieved the cobalt blue dreidel smiling all the while. We took our places around the table, our hands clasped around the dreidels, waiting for our turn. As the reigning champion he spun first, achieving the "gimel" and winning the first round. It was the expected results. Dreidel competitors fell like dominos.

One by one Zelig knocked them out of the game until finally it was my turn. All eyes were upon me as I opened up my hand, gently allowing a cobalt blue object with gold lettering on the sides to drop on the surface of the table. There was an audible gasp from fellow students accompanied shortly thereafter by excited whipers.

"D'ya see her dreidel?" the word went out. "It's the same one as Zelig?s!"

At tournament time a large table was set up in the middle of the classroom and dreidels distributed to students. King Zelig tossed his dreidel from hand-to-hand, smiling smugly and acting self-assured. As the reigning champion Zelig spun first, achieving the letter "g" or "gimel", which meant that he won the first round. One by one we took turns and I landed on "hay", acquiring half of the pot composed of chocolate coins and other goodies, which pleased me no end. For the next few turns the dreaded "shin" turned up denoting a loss, accompanied by groans of disappointment from fellow students. Like many of the stories we were told focusing on unsurpassable victories over adversity, things turned in my favor. The king was dethroned and long live the new champion. Me.

Jubilant cheers broke out among fellow students as they savored the moment for which they had all waited. My adversary, meanwhile, appeared stunned and in shock. Consumed with laughter and staring triumphantly into his eyes, I couldn't help but notice his were brimming with tears. It was bad enough being dethroned but having it done by a girl, was more than his young ego could handle in one day.

I could have chosen to ignore him and savor the moment of victory, since it was a long time coming and it probably wouldn't happen again. Instead, upon realizing that he had been humiliated in front of his male friends, a showdown was suggested to determine the final victor. Needless to say, he amazingly emerged victorious.

He never did acknowledge my presence or reach out to thank me for my selfless gesture, in all the years of our attending Hebrew school together. He did allow me to spin first in a subsequent re-match the following year, presumably as a good will gesture on his part. In my mind I would always be queen to his king, be it only for one occasion and that was better than nothing. C'est la vie. Sometimes you win and sometimes you gotta lose.

Fishing around

The festive period is fast approaching, along with all the entertaining duties that accompany visiting  family members and friends. As mentioned on numerous occasions here and no disrespect intended to other social gurus like Martha Stewart et al, when it comes to wining and dining savoir faire, Debretts is a good source to consult.

Last time, the focus was on the selection and imbibing of champagne including the proper way to open  the bottle. Among the advice offered by Debretts was that the choice of drinking receptacle is an important factor to enhance the experience and taste and that a tulip-shaped flute glass be used to preserve the bubbles. I mean, what's champagne without bubbles? Like wine without a  vintage. Right? It's not called bubbly for nothing. The glass flute (somehow "flute" reminds me of the musical instrument even though there is no way it could be used for drinking purposes...just a thought, such as it is...but I digress) should or even must be held by the stem to keep the liquid cold. Getting back to the bubble aspect...

As an aside (big on these) a study conducted by the University of Reims Champagne-Ardenne, in France, suggests that there are 15 million bubbles fizzing in a single glass of champagne. A researcher studied the role of the carbon dioxide (CO₂) throughout its journey from the bottle to the glass, focusing on the second fermentation stage, resulting in the CO₂ dissolution into the wine -- aided by the addition of yeast and sugar before sealing each champagne bottle -- to the stage where the gas escapes through tiny bubbles popping on the surface of the wine in the glass.
(http://sciencedaily.com/releases/2012/02/120214100930.htm) Go figure! Somebody actually studied champagne bubbles. Just thinking...wonder if any tasting was involved... Just a thought.

By the way if anyone reading this is interested in studying champagne other than by a taste test and happens to be in the Reims, France, vicinity, the Institut des Hautes Etudes du Goût, de la Gastronomie et des des Arts de la Table is offering a course, entitled, "The Physics of Champagne Bubbles."  No mention whether a degree is offered for those who pass or complete the course. What would it be called? A BA in Bubble Study?

A good match for champagne is caviar, or the roe of the sturgeon fish. As mentioned previously, it's not a personal favorite but it certainly has its adherents. The average portion of caviar is 30 grams. According to advice offered by www.thevivant.com/complete-guide-on-how-to-buy-and-eat-caviar/#ixzz3KbXMsixS  a special spoon made of bone, crystal or mother of pearl should be used in order to preserve the taste and eaten in amounts smaller than a tablespoon. This sounds like logical advice given the high end price of what in the end, is fish eggs. Furthermore, it's good etiquette to consume caviar in small bites. One would never deign to stuff one's mouth with caviar and if one does, one should immediately take a large gulp of champagne to wash it down (my personal advice, not experience). Champagne always seems to make things right. In my mind - such as it is - there is a somewhat snobbish appeal to being served caviar at a party:

"Yes Felicia - they served the golden caviar with crackers. Only the best and found in only one in 1000 osetra sturgeon. I must remember to pick up a can at the supermarket tomorrow for the bridge club ladies."

Debretts also offers advice on eating lobster although it's a specie that is morally difficult to eat - at least for me. Somehow, it's hard to reconcile seeing a future meal positioned in a tank of water along with others of its kind, waiting to be selected as a main course. Moreover, when served whole, it's also problematic to eat a food that stares back at you with accusatory eyes that seem to say, "killer!" Then again, perhaps it's just me. The actual eating of the lobster requires the wearing of a bib while grasping the shell in one hand, while the other hand slowly and methodically uses a lobster cracker to reveal the flesh, after which it's pulled out with a lobster pick. Oh the angst of being a tasty crustacean favored by many!

Last but not least, snails is another shell type food, which has its devotees. Having never consumed one but spotted a number in the garden, can't comment on their flavor value. Judging by their size, not much to eat and once again work is required to remove them from their shell. Debretts advice includes the use of snail tongs to remove the meat, yet another meal requiring work.

Speaking (or writing about) snails, while researching this piece, came across the Mother Earth News ( http://www.motherearthnews.com/real-food/escargot-zmaz93jjztak.aspx#axzz3KgXXPBpg) site, which advocates using your very own snails found in the garden. FYI, the site provides among other interesting facts, this background info.: "The common garden snail, Helix aspersa, is a close relative of France's commercially harvested Helix pomatia. Both can be found on French dinner plates, where the former goes by the affectionate "petit gris" (little gray) to distinguish it from its cousin gros blanc (large white)." A snail, is a snail is...

Perhaps Jean-Paul Sartre sums it all up: "“It is not a matter of indifference whether we like oysters or clams, snails or shrimp, if only we know how to unravel the existential significance of these foods.”

Whatever you say, Jean-Paul.

Debretts guides us the right way during the social season



"Too much of anything is bad, but too much Champagne is just right."
Mark Twain


In a little over a month, people will be in a celebratory state of being as the month of December ushers in Christmas and the holiday period in general. It's also the time when friends and family members gather together for a memorable festive meal. When it comes to the "how-to's" of conducting oneself in public and social deportment in general, Debrett's is the guide to consult with when it comes to acting correctly in public. It's a good source for ensuring that one does the socially correct thing as to not embarrass oneself. For example, there is more to merely sipping champagne and wine.

A bottle of chilled champagne is always a good start to a holiday meal and accordingly, there are rules and regulations as to how it should be served. Maybe not rules and regulations as such but suggestions to get the most out of champagne. Have to confess or at least own up to the fact that perhaps I've imbibed in high end champagne less than a half-dozen times in my entire life. You know - special occasions - and found the taste somewhat dry and lip-pucker-inducing. Then again, I'm not big on caviar, either. A little bit too fishy and slimy going down for my taste. But I digress. So now about champagne.

Rule number 1: do not shake the bottle of champagne prior to opening it. Don't quite know why somebody would do that other than for personal amusement to see the end result but obviously if this is a precaution, than  obviously one should keep it away from potential champagne shakers. You know who you are!  Unlike in the movies, it's wasteful, not to mention messy, to have a large stream of champagne dripping down from the ceiling. Then there's the ensuing issue of who should clean up the mess including what to do with inebriated pets. Moving on...

Rule number 2: the champagne bottle should be opened by peeling off the foil over the cork. My solution for difficult tasks such as tricky foil removal especially if there's a threat of broken finger nails that have been newly manicured, or the retrieval of  broken corks stuck inside bottles, is made easier with the help of fork tines or the tip of steak knives. I mean, these things happen even with champagne bottles.

Rule number 3: Most important in order to avoid an incident as in the case of rule number one, bottle should be pointed away from the person opening the bottle. It should also not be pointed in the direction of family members and/or friends sitting around the table. In my mind, the bottle should be pointed at a 45 degree angle....

Rule number 4: Remove metal cage over the cork. Just wondering the rationale behind placing a "metal cage" over the bottle head and cork. According to Wikipedia - Wiki is as knowledgeable as Debretts in many subjects and areas:
"A muselet is a ware cage that fits over the cork of a bottle of champagne, sparkling wine or beer to prevent the cork from emerging under the pressure of the carbonated contents. It derives its name from the French, museler, to muzzle. The muselet often has a metal cap incorporated in the design which may show the drink maker's emblem. They are normally covered by a metal foil envelope. Muselets are also known as wire hoods or Champagne wires."

Somehow, the term "wire hoods" reminds one (me) of a gang of champagne thieves, as in: "Today, le gang de muselet conducted a daring robbery and emptied out the Café des Artistes Qui Boivent du Champagne Directement de la Bouteille (English translation: the café of artists who drink champagne directly from the bottle) located in downtown Montmartre." But I digress - again.

Rule number 5 and 6: Hold the cork in one hand and the bottle in the other. This is what could be classified as the "duh" moment. Cork one hand...bottle in other. I mean, how else would one open a bottle? At this point, the open-ee should prepare for the next step being the removal of the cork. This is the point where it all comes together and the big reveal.

Rule number 7: Gently and slowly and ever-so-carefully, twist (not wrench) the bottle - not the cork.

Rule number 8: Debretts advises when removing the cork to "aim for a sigh - not a pop." So I'm thinking here, I mean, what's the difference if a person sighs or yells or even swears out loud when opening the bottle? Is there some type of unwritten rule somewhere where champagne has to be opened with a sigh? Anybody know? But I digress. Once more.

Anyway...moving right along...champagne should be served in tulip shaped fluted glasses, since the shape of the glass preserves the bubbles. The glasses must be absolutely clean and even remnants of dishwashing liquid can cause the champagne to lose its fizz. We all know that nothing tastes as bad as champagne that has lost its fizzle like many other things in life.  Right?


Moving on and related to the issue of spirits, ordering wine in a restaurant can be challenging for many people who are not knowledgeable about vintage, or a growing region, the grape question or aging. For many of us, wine is relegated to red or white, period.  This could present a problem when dining in a good restaurant especially when one is required to taste said wine.

1.  According to Debretts, "the waiter will show you the bottle and the cork so that you can verify your wine's identity." Really - as a person who drinks wine on an occasional basis, identification of the wine really doesn't have an impact on whether or not I like it. I taste it - if it pleases my taste buds - it's okay.

2.  One should never smell the cork. Again, it never occurred to me to smell the cork. I mean, why would I want to? Seems that the cork is to be used a means in which to strictly provide information. When was the last time you read a cork? Can't say that I ever have.

3.  One should swirl a small amount of wine in the glass when it is served by a waiter, followed by a sniff.  People unsure of the scent may take a small sip to ascertain it's taste and quality. My philosophy as far as this is concerned is if a sniff doesn't mean anything, chances are neither would a sip. In any case, once this is all completed, the wine is ready to drink. At last.

Now that the delicate issue of opening champagne and the selection of wine has been completed. it's time to actually sit back and enjoy the fruits of one's labors, in the true sense of the word. Only one thing to add to that: Cheers.

Next time we'll examine the various foods and their serving for the holiday period and their consumption.

A-choo! Counting the sneezes in life

"If you want to make a person feel better after they sneeze, you shouldn't say 'God bless you.' You should say 'You're so good looking!'"

- Jerry Seinfeld, in "The Good Samaritan"

 

A flurry of successive sneezes for a day or more can be a sign that a cold is imminent. However, sneezing has taken on a whole new meaning for one person.

For whatever reason - maybe boredom or just something that struck his fancy - go know - David Fletcher who calls Birmingham, UK home, has been counting wait for it - his sneezes since 2007. That's nothing to sneeze at. Couldn't resist writing that but I digress. Anyway...

There was no real reason or motivation that compelled him to start counting sneezes.

"What started out as a little conceptual art joke, a playful satire of the “blogosphere”, and a mock scream against the futility and emptiness of modern life, turned into something more intriguing", Fletcher explained in his blog, Sneezecount, http://sneezecount.joyfeed.com/about/

In his blog, Fletcher keeps a daily count of the number of times he sneezes in one day including the time, date, his location at the time and a brief description of his activity at that time. He also offers a description and guide of the strength of the sneeze i.e. mild, moderate to very strong, which he records in a notebook and transfers to his blog.

In his "Reflections on the Counting of Sneezes", the sneezer shares some of his findings since beginning his undertaking. In addition to noting the number of times he sneezes, he also documents his activity at the time. For example:

July 2007 - accumulation of 36 sneezes
Place: Bedroom
Strength of sneeze: Mild
Activity: Just finished cup of tea

He is still counting and is now up to 4,059 accumulative sneezes since he started.

This got me thinking. We could, if we really had a lot of time on our hands and wanted something to do, keep a blog of similar activities, like coughing for example.

Thursday, October 16 - 3 coughs
Place: kitchen, den, bathroom
Strength of cough: 2 regular, 1 choking on water that went down the wrong way
Activity: washing dishes, watching TV, drinking liquid with supper

Friday, October 17 - 12 burps
Place: kitchen, den
Strength of burps: 2 mild, 3 medium,  2 medium-strong, 5 strong
Activity: eating chili, watching football on TV (beer involved)

The possibilities are endless like keeping track of the number of times one blinks, uses a tissue to wipe the nose, yawning, scratching one's nose... Meanwhile, my philosophy in as far as sneezing is concerned is a sneeze is a nose tickle looking for a way to get out. Or something.

Celebrating the quirkiness in all of us - 2014 Ig Nobel Prize winners announced

Some people are recognized for achievements in academics, or in the sports arena or in the entertainment business... your "normal" type of accomplishments. Then there are others who strive to be remembered for their unconventional undertakings and leave their mark on the world, be it a quirky train of thought.

Once again as in past years, the Ig Nobel Prizes were handed out with the 2014 ceremony held on September 18. For the uninitiated and those wondering if there's any relationship to the famous Nobel Prizes, these awards, according to the Annals of Improbable Research magazine with the ceremony co-sponsored by the Harvard-Radcliffe Society of Physics Students and the Harvard-Radcliffe Science Fiction Association, are to "celebrate the unusual, honor the imaginative — and spur people's interest in science, medicine, and technology." Judge for yourselves.

Physics Prize (Japan), specifically Kiyoshi Mabuchi, Kensei Tanaka, Daichi Uchijima and Rina Sakai, for measuring the amount of friction between a shoe and a banana skin, and between a banana skin and the floor, when a person steps on a banana skin that's on the floor.
I mean, do we really need to know the amount of friction when one steps on a banana skin when and/or if one's rear end meets the ground? Perhaps the speed of falling...

Neuroscience Prize (China/Canada), specifically Jiangang Liu, Jun Li, Lu Feng, Ling Li, Jie Tian, and Kang Lee, for trying to understand what happens in the brains of people who see the face of Jesus in a piece of toast.
Most of us see your usual, mundane jam, peanut butter and the like, while others see unusual images...

Psychology Prize (Australia, U.S.A. UK) specifically Peter K. Jonason, Amy Jones, and Minna Lyons, for amassing evidence that people who habitually stay up late are, on average, more self-admiring, more manipulative, and more psychopathic than people who habitually arise early in the morning. 

Public Health Prize (Czech Republic, Japan, USA, India), specifically Jaroslav Flegr, Jan Havlíček Jitka Hanušova-Lindova, David Hanauer, Naren Ramakrishnan, Lisa Seyfried, for investigating whether it is mentally hazardous for a human being to own a cat.
Perhaps somewhat alienating given the affectionate nature of cats but nothing compared to owning fish and the affection they offer to their care givers, which is relegated to rising to the top of the tank for food but otherwise zilch, nada... But I digress.

Biology Prize (Czech Republic, Germany, Zambia) specifically Vlastimil Hart, Petra Nováková, Erich Pascal Malkemper, Sabine Begall, Vladimír Hanzal, Miloš Ježek, Tomáš Kušta, Veronika Němcová, Jana Adámková, Kateřina Benediktová, Jaroslav Červený and Hynek Burda, for carefully documenting that when dogs defecate and urinate, they prefer to align their body axis with Earth's north-south geomagnetic field lines.
Most likely few and far between dog owners note or even want to or have thought about which direction their dogs defecate and urinate, being concerned with having to pick up the end result. Right dog owners?

Art Prize (Italy),  specifically Marina de Tommaso, Michele Sardaro, and Paolo Livrea, for measuring the relative pain people suffer while looking at an ugly painting, rather than a pretty painting, while being shot [in the hand] by a powerful laser beam.
Art being subjective, is in the eye of the beholder and what one believes is an ugly painting could be viewed as beautiful by another. Being shot with a laser beam, however, can definitely alter one's view with that of experiencing pain, period.

Economics Prize (Italy: ISTAT) the Italian government's National Institute of Statistics, for proudly taking the lead in fulfilling the European Union mandate for each country to increase the official size of its national economy by including revenues from prostitution, illegal drug sales, smuggling, and all other unlawful financial transactions between willing participants.

Medicine Prize (USA, India) specifically Ian Humphreys, Sonal Saraiya, Walter Belenky and James Dworkin, for treating "uncontrollable" nosebleeds, using the method of nasal-packing-with-strips-of-cured-pork.
Just wondering whether cured pork would have more of an impact or effect on nose bleeds than un-cured pork, if for whatever reason, one opted to use it.

Arctic Science Prize (Norway, Germany, USA, Canada), specifically Eigil Reimers and Sindre Eftestøl, for testing how reindeer react to seeing humans who are disguised as polar bears.
Thinking further, it's possible that reindeer, many of whom hope to accompany Santa Claus on his Christmas voyage, would or could recognize humans in disguise and laugh themselves sick. Pure speculation of course...nudge-nudge...wink-wink...

Nutrition Prize (Spain), specifically Raquel Rubio, Anna Jofré, Belén Martín, Teresa Aymerich, and Margarita Garriga, for their study titled "Characterization of Lactic Acid Bacteria Isolated from Infant Faeces as Potential Probiotic Starter Cultures for Fermented Sausages." Sure - why not.

There you have the 2014 list of noble and somewhat unconventional thinkers that say, "we're different!" And then some.

September is a fowl month

Sometimes special occurrences have a way of sneaking up without us being cognizant of their arrival, especially those that are for the birds. This is not meant as a derogatory remark since September being National Chicken Month is once more upon us. Couldn't find a scratch of background information in spite of pecking around as to the reason for devoting an entire month to chickens. Perhaps chicken farmers and people in the agricultural community felt that chickens needed a higher profile. Go know.

For people reading this wondering, "what type of background data have you gleaned about chickens , Eleanor?" - your wait is over. According to the www.smithsonianmag.com/science-nature/14-fun-facts-about-chickens, here are a few highlights:

- the chicken, Gallus gallus domesticus, is a domestic subspecies of the red jungle fowl, a member of the pheasant family that is native to Asia.

- the  bird was probably first domesticated for the purpose of cockfights, not as food.
- chickens aren’t completely flightless—they can get airborne enough to make it over a fence or into a tree.
Now the latter fact comes as a surprise, at least to me. I've always been under the impression that chickens and their ilk were earthbound, fated to scratch and peck the earth. Can't speak for others but I've never actually seen a chicken in flight or stuck up in a tree. Mind you, I've seen photos of roosters sitting on a fence or on top of chicken coops waiting for the sun to put in an appearance on the horizon, in preparation to declare that the day has officially started. Flying chickens, though, are one would imagine, somewhat of a rare sighting in most circles.
- these birds are omnivores. They’ll eat seeds and insects but also larger prey like small mice and lizards.
Yet another I-didn't-know-that fact. Remember this the next time you sit down to a chicken dinner

-  with 25 billion chickens in the world, there are more of them than any other bird species.
-  female chickens are pullets until they’re old enough to lay eggs and become hens. Male chickens are called roosters, cocks or cockerels, depending on the country one lives in.
Another interesting puzzler in the chicken world. Chickens start out being pullets until they're a year old after which they lay eggs and are suddenly known as chickens. Why? I mean, wouldn't it be easier for everyone concerned for them to be known as pullets all their lives? Is there something wrong with being a pullet? To confuse the issue (for me at least) a hen is also known as a female chicken. But I digress.

- in the romance area, a rooster announces that he's found food by emitting a "took-took-took" sound but hens ignore them if they're aware that food is available. Why would a hen want to wait and get it second-hand if it's available free, right? Food first, obviously, before romance. In order to get their attention and in an attempt to impress the hens, roosters perform a dance called, 'tid-bitt-ing' where they make sounds moving their heads up-and-down, picking up and dropping food.

 - researchers have discovered that the female of the species prefer roosters that frequently 'tid-bit' along with larger, brighter combs on their heads. One could deduce from this information that hens are somewhat shallow and will opt for looks rather than personality. But again I digress.

Amazing how chickens have had an influence on our lives and are mentioned in many everyday expressions. Came across  a listing of fowl terms on the www.backyardchickens.com site:

- flew the coop - gone
- up with the chickens - waking early with the sunrise.
- going to bed with the chickens
- like a chicken with it's head cut off (there have been instances where a/chickens have been reputed to live without a head like Mike the Headless Chicken, who was reputed to have survived 18 mos. minus a head  http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mike_the_Headless_Chicken)
- shake a tail feather - get moving
 - being chicken - being afraid 
-  sunny side up - cheerful attitude
-  chicken out - not follow through
-  ruffle one's feathers - something annoys you
-  chicken hearted - not brave
-  chickens have come home to roost - the past is catching up (this infers that chickens leave home for a while and if so, one wonders where they go and what they do while gone. Anybody?)
-  rule the roost - to be the boss
-  pecking order - finding your place
-  cock of the walk - to be the boss
-  do chickens have lips? - dumb questions gets dumb answer (love this expression)
-  play chicken - a stand off
-  something to crow about - exciting news to tell
-  chicken scratch - poor handwriting (frequently attributed to those in the medical profession)

All of this is leading up to that age old question or issue that has stumped human-kind for time immemorial: just why did the chicken cross the road?

Thinking further (too much time on my hands, obviously), there is really no reason for any chicken not to cross the road if said chicken wanted to.  The big question is what would induce a chicken to cross the road in the first place
Maybe a chicken would want to cross a road simply because the road is there to cross - or not
Perhaps chickens - some but not necessarily all - can't recognize the existence of a road that's set out in front of them
There could be a possibility that to a chicken, a road is a means of seeking an escape from the tedium and ennui of  being relegated to living out its life in a coop (hence the expression: cooped up)
Then again, perhaps the chicken had already crossed the road, had a taste of what was on the other side and wanted to return to see if what she experienced was real
In conclusion, maybe the chicken crossed the road because she had an urge to cross it, which overcame her better judgement, and she was wiser having arrived at the other side knowing that her life would be the same no matter which side of the road she was on.
Oh the angst of chicken indecision!

Since it's impossible to communicate with chickens in a language that would be compatible to both humans and fowl, it's all pure speculation at best. Merely a peck in the dark.

 

Life's leftover items

As is the case with many of us, over the years I've accumulated a considerable amount of items through various means. Some even date back as wedding gifts, still others make an appearance as birthday presents brought out on occasion over the years, but a larger portion end up stored away in cupboards rarely to see the light of day.

At some point during a lifetime, somebody - usually offspring or close relatives - will be left with the responsibility of making a decision on their eventual fate. Some items most likely will be kept due to sentimental value while others may end up in garage sales or as some people like to call them, estate sales. Call them what you want but in the end someone's left over's are another person's bargains, which will inevitably end up stored away in a basement or cupboard and re-sold at another garage sale. Such is the circle of life.

On a personal note, it's always somewhat surprising to look over people's accumulative treasures. It's like seeing lives in review along with price tags to make it all more meaningful. I mean, how does one part with items or tchotchkes that have graced side tables. or sets of dishes part of holiday celebrations. More to the point, how can a value be placed on them?

My main concern as an artist, is a collection of paintings that have been amassed over the years. Obviously, some are better than others but in my mind and eyes,  they are all valuable. Many are gracing the walls of our abode and still others, without a place on the wall to call home, are displayed on easels. Each one has a story to tell focusing on paint-overs, color mis-matches and other assorted trial-and-error processes, which made the end result more meaningful. One wonders, though, as to their eventual fate.

I'd like to think that the painting output will be handed over in care of Christies or other equally famous auction houses, where they will be auctioned off for millions of dollars or at least in the hundred-thousands for sure.

"Item number 1234-29 in your catalogue, people," the auctioneer will direct bidders. "A painting by well-known artist, Eleanor Tylbor, who expresses her talent in the Nouveau Transitional-Tylbor style. You will notice her strong use of yellow, one of her favorite colors, accompanied by mixed hues of green and beige to capture nature's harvest. How much am I bid for this masterpiece of nouveau expressionism?"

Actually, the reality is that once a painting is finished if it is ever finished, since it can be "fixed" even a year or two later, it rarely leaves home. The emotional attachment is overwhelming and hence the reason for them remaining part of my collection but accommodations can be made, though. It could be difficult to bid it adieu but its departure would be acceptable, knowing it would have a good home

Then there is the collection of my plays written over the years. They are mere words to many people but when put together, they can tell stories of people put in situations that shape our lives. Plays are witness to society's changing mores and reflect the times we've lived in.

Ancient civilizations have come and gone and remnants of former lives emerge. In the end, though, tchotchkes live on.

Some of life's ponderings that really have no answers and evoke the word, "why?"

There are inconsequential encounters during our everyday lives that are 'head-shakers'.

"So what are you complaining about now, Eleanor?"

You know - the type of insignificant experiences that one must accept but are a source of annoyance.

- why is it that when choosing a cash to pay for supermarket items, it's always seems to be the one where there's a cash count?

- why is it that customers choose the 8 (or 12) item limit line to pay for a full shopping cart of groceries? More to the point, why do the check-out cashiers allow it?

- why do supermarkets set their produce water sprays on "high" especially when I'm bending over to choose an item?

- why can't manufacturers come up with a means in which shoppers can separate plastic bags without having to lick their fingers? Try as I may and I do, there is no way to separate plastic bags from a roll by blowing on the serrated opening. Actually, thinking again, perhaps a solution could be to wet one's fingers using the excess water from the produce spray ("good innovative thinking, Eleanor!"). At least the spray could be used for something useful.

Moving on...

- why do packages of cheese products with 'good until' dates listed way in the future, inevitably turn moldy without a few weeks after opening?

There is nothing more irritating (at least for me) than buying a large wedge of cheese and two weeks later seeing white/grey forming on the edge, indicating mold. Numerous attempts at using various wrappings including wax paper haven't worked. Any manufacturers reading this want to supply an answer?

- why is it that the purchase of the perfect lipstick shade is different when brought home, only to be added to the ever-growing collection of abandoned tubes that looked good but ended up in the blechy bag? Related and shared in other blogs but still a source of irritation, why do lipstick manufacturers discontinue lipstick shades after a short period of placing them on the market place? It would be great to be able to purchase the same lipstick shade within a six month period.

Feel free to add to the list and share. We all need a vent or two to start the day, right? What's yours?

Some thoughts

Shock! Gasp! Confession time!

Okay. I admit it. I didn't watch the Emmy Awards last night. Right now you're probably gasping in shock thinking, "Eleanor - how could you, being a freelance writer/playwright, skip the Emmys?" To be candid, I passed because I've watched the nominated series on occasion and only once-in-a-while occasions. One should at least relate to the series actors and watch frequently enough to be able to form an opinion, right?

As a rule and when I do watch the awards show, I tune in to see what everyone is wearing. It's always fun to see the latest designer outfits and what the "in" color is this season. Not that it makes a difference in my world but still, one should keep up with fashion trends, just in case. This morning the Web was filled with reports on the nominees and the eventual winners, what they wore and their acceptance speeches. Loved Billy Crystal's tribute to Robin Williams. Simple, to the point and well put. Being a big fan of Ricky Gervais, also adored his acceptance speech at not winning. What can one say: I like people who kvetch.

In as far as fashion looks are concerned, I liked Halle Berry's mauve dress, Kate Walsh's yellow dress although how she walked is a mystery with that draping of material, also loved Taryn Manning's gown...on and on.

For the record, my favorite programs are related to sci-fi and related topics. I'll tune in to TV series featured on networks and shows that have an alien presence(s) (thinking further, this could apply to many celebrities but I digress). As usual, none of my favorites were nominated. Oh well - there's always next year.


Brangelina are now one

Added this item on Thurs. August 28, because this is news we've all been waiting for. After living together for nine years and following an engagement of one year, Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt made it legal. Without any fan-fare or press releases to announce the up-coming nuptials, the couple were married at a French as in France, chateau. Their children were present and took part in the walk down the aisle. How very romantic getting married in France. Wonder what they ate in the way of celebrating their joining together. Pure speculation but more than likely, wine was involved or maybe champagne...French baguette with pate de compagne perhaps...une patisserie for dessert. In any case, you might want to wish them bonne chance if passing them on the rue.



Arf...bow-wow. A day for the dogs

Today is National Dog Day. This is the first time I became aware that a day has been set aside to honor the special pooches in our lives and their contribution to our well being. As the former slave...that is to say, friend to a Heinz 57 mutt that shared our lives for 15 years, it's only right that we honor our furry canine buddies and bud-ettes. Although we were assured at the time of adoption that Daisy would reach a medium-sized dog status, she ended up being a cross between a beagle, cocker spaniel and physical characteristics of a Labrador retriever. In other words, pure mutt adopted at a shelter. In retrospect, she really wasn't the friendliest dog and showed her teeth frequently, snarling menacingly at all who approached when food was poured in her bowl. She also wasn't above taking a nibble at toes while seated under the table at meal times, when spare food didn't fall in her direction. Protecting the house, however, was relegated to snoring on the job. It took me a long time to get over her passing but the memories she gave us will remain forever. Happy National Dog Day to pooches everywhere - it's your day!


Addendum: a tragedy waiting to happen

Parents (or caregivers to children) make a concerted effort to go out of their way as a means to protect their offspring from imminent danger. It is puzzling therefore, at least to me, when children are knowingly exposed to questionable situations by presumably, functioning adults. Then again, perhaps in their opinion and mind, they believe that the danger is minimal.

For whatever reason, parents of a 9-year old girl decided to take their daughter to a shooting range. In my mind, anyway, this act in itself is questionable but to each her/his own. Again, one ponders as to why a young person in this age range would be given a Uzi-sub-machine gun no less as was the case to learn how to shoot, is another good question. In any case, the shooting range instructor standing next to the girl was demonstrating how to fire the weapon and when she pulled the trigger, the recoil caused her to aim over her head killing the shooting instructor.

It just boggles my mind that parents would even think taking their offspring to a shooting range, period, would be a fun activity. Duh...

A toothy dilemma

There's not much required to brushing one's teeth. Take one toothbrush, add some dental cleaning agent on the surface and brush away. Right? It appears, though, the jury is out on the best means to remove stains and that nasty tartar, which accumulates between, under and around the gum line.

It seems, according to some researchers at the University College London, there is no agreement on the best brushing method, or the frequency required and the amount of time that should be spent on the brushing process due to - wait for it - the lack of good research.

Thinking further, given the number of ads on television promoting the various brands of toothpaste and the results obtained, one would assume that the toothpaste manufacturers have conducted extensive research to be able to substantiate their claims of effectiveness and which method of brushing works best. But I digress.

For their part, researchers examined advice offered by dental associations, toothbrush companies and dental text books and their conclusion was that no one method was better than another. The results of the study published in the British Dental Journal, analyzed sixty-six different sources to obtain this conclusion.

The recommended method is using a horizontal brush movement with some circular motions, however, after dentists and dental associations studied six various brushing techniques, no particular method was favorite. Some brushes were held at a 45 degree angle using vertical brush movements and/or scrubbing the teeth. Have to admit that when it comes to holding a toothbrush, I never considered the angle in which to hold it. I mean, one - me - takes the brush out of the toothbrush holder, holds in one's hand, adds toothpaste and brushes away. Thinking about this angle thing, perhaps - pure speculation on my part - and on occasion, the toothbrush could be held at a 45 degree angle and then moves to a 30 degree angle and then back again, depending on the desired area in which one is focusing one's efforts. Am I right? As an aside, at the end of a dental cleaning session, our dentist gives us a free toothbrush and throws in a few small tubes of toothpaste, in the way of saying thanks for our patronage. Free is free is... Back to the toothy situation.

In as far as the length of time that should be spent on the brushing process, twenty-six sources advised brushing for two minutes, twelve sources for two to three minutes and two sources for three minutes. Again and speaking strictly on my own experience, timing rarely plays a part in the length of time spent on this task, unless I'm late for a social or business appointment, in which case it's a fast brush-and-go situation. It would also depend on the amount of toothpaste that ends up on the mirror while examining my teeth being brushed and the amount of time required to clean said mirror.

Another aspect not mentioned is whether an electric toothbrush is more efficient as many dentists recommend, than a basic hand-held brush. For the record, my choice is the none-electric model. There is something that un-nerves me about inserting a wet brush that operates on electricity in my mouth.

After all that we've been told on the best way to brush our teeth, in the end there's no consensus among professional bodies. Now what about the best method and value of brushing one's tongue? Anybody know?

Swans receive a royal count but what about Canada geese?

In spite of a desire to be there in person, the Queen's swans will have to be counted without my presence. You know how it is -  sun tanning, barbequing, hanging out at the pool - the important things in life get in the way. Be that as it may, the 2014 "Swan Upping" began on Monday July 14 and will continue the entire week until Friday, July 18. What is it about that title, which sounds like swear words (at least to me)? But I digress - already.

According to the official web site of The British Monarchy, who's in the know when it comes to all things royal, the route of the swan counters includes departure from Sunbury and finishing at Abingdon, Oxfordshire. More specifically, the annual census of the swan population goes through the counties of Middlesex, Surrey, Buckinghamshire, Berkshire and Oxfordshire. Thinking further, that's a lot of swans to be counted. Historically, the ceremony itself dates back to the 12th century, when the Crown claimed ownership of all mute swans. Why all the interest in swans over the centuries you may well be asking. Seems that  - gasp - swans were regarded as a yummy delicacy at banquets or feasts.

Nowadays, the Crown retains the right of ownership of all unmarked mute swans in open water, however, the Queen only exercises her ownership to certain stretches of the Thames. So this makes one - me - wonder the criteria for being considered the Queen's swans. Are many rejected as not acceptable?

"Oh look, Felicia. Here come the Queen's Swan markers. Fluff yourself up and look pretty!" an unmarked mute swan might tell a swan acquaintance. "Being counted by the Queen's people is very socially significant. Gives you special bragging rights."

Moving right along...

So how exactly are the swans counted,  blog readers may be wondering. More to the point, how do those doing the counting know whether the swans are being counted more than once. I mean, the swans could, just to be silly, fly up ahead and be counted again...and again... But I digress.

So those involved in the operation, the Queen's Swan Marker, the Royal Swan Uppers and the Swan Uppers of the Vintners' and Dyers' livery companies, use six traditional Thames rowing skiffs (a.k.a. row boats) in their five-day journey up-river. They yell out, "all up!" when a brood of cygnets is sighted. I mean, one supposes that they could also, if they wanted but it wouldn't be culturally acceptable and most likely they wouldn't, yell "hey guys - check out the gang of swans up ahead!" Would the swans know the difference? More to the point, would they care?

Where is this all going, you may well be asking yourselves and why should we care.

As a Canadian, this is leading to an interesting thought or idea and maybe an interesting suggestion, as to the counting of our very own - wait for it - Canada geese. The geese being copious in numbers, have trans-migrated outside Canada to various geographic locations and really, somebody should do a count because...they just should. The means in which they flock together in "V" formation is something special to behold, not to mention their familiar honks as they perform fly-overs. Permission from the Canadian Prime Minister and the government would be necessary but most likely they would see this as an idea whose time has come, once the advantages of this turning into a tourist attraction would be brought to its attention. In fact, perhaps - just perhaps - the Canadian Mounties, replete with their smart red jackets, could get involved and perform the actual counting of the geese. Mounties and Canada geese - is there anything more Canadian, I ask you?

Meanwhile, the swans will have to be tallied without me being there, again. The Canada geese, however, can count on me.

Tea talk - so what's the big thing?

Now that the popular TV series, "Downton Abbey", has caught the imagination of people who wanna-be-titled-and-live-in-big-estates-with-servants, tea is hot stuff. We're not talking hot as in serving temperature because that goes without saying, tea has to be boiling hot. The term 'hot' as in popularity and more specifically, the repast of indulging in afternoon tea.

As a confirmed tea drinker, any time of the day or night is a good time to drop a tea bag in a mug and indulge in a cuppa, as the Brits say. Having lived in England during the formative years of my life, tea played an important role. Rules related to savoring the juice of the leaf were clear cut accompanied by a certain decorum. A substantial amount of attention was paid to mannerly conduct including the placement of wrists on the table, stirring the liquid, passing the biscuits and related goodies to the point that it was almost a relief when tea time was over. But I digress.

If indeed the afternoon tea ritual is gaining in popularity as reports indicate, hopefully new tea drinkers won't be penalized for not knowing or following the basic fundamentals of tea drinking. When it comes to tea rituals and every day etiquette, Debretts has it all. In fact, last year I shared some of their advice in one of my blogs: http://myviewscount.blogspot.ca/2012/06/at-last-something-for-tea-drinkers-of.html

The reason for alluding to this subject once again is a recent article I read focusing on the ritual of afternoon tea according to a chain of North American hotels that offers this repast. For example, the article advocates the British concept of pouring milk into a cup before adding tea. Presumably, we're talking here about brewed tea in a pot and not a tea bag. In theory, this is all well and good but, say for example, too much milk is poured into the cup and thereby turning the tea tepid. There is nothing worse than luke-warm tea. Actually, for me, there are worse things like using hot milk in tea. Somehow, biscuits don't seem to dunk well in tepid tea temps.  In spite of the accepted norms of tea drinking , it's my findings that milk is best added after the tea is in the cup in order to gauge the darkness of the contents, depending on whether one likes one's tea weaker or stronger. Right tea drinkers of the world?

The article also recommends the best way to stir tea would you believe, which would necessitate having a watch or clock nearby. One should hold the tea spoon at the six o'clock angle, moving it back and forth without touching the sides of the cup. This leads one - me - to wonder what would happen, say, if the tea drinker would hold the spoon, say, at the seven o'clock or even eight o'clock position? Is there a penalty involved?

"Eleanor dear," somebody watching me commit the heinous act of holding the spoon at the quarter to seven angle, could comment, "just want to point out that you're holding the spoon in an incorrect manner. I must now confiscate your tea cup as punishment."

I mean - gimme a break!

Last but certainly not least, there is also input focusing on - wait for it - how to hold a tea cup. Really. In case people reading this aren't knowledgeable in this particular area, the index finger should be placed in the cup handle with thumb on the top. Not on the side or bottom mind you but strictly on the top. Thinking further, never really noted as to where my fingers are placed .  Furthermore, the bottom of the handle should rest in the third finger. Not the second or pinky finger, but the third finger. Sometimes - keep this to yourself since this could be considered blasphemous by died-in-the-wool tea drinkers - I don't use the handle at all and hold the cup on the side.

There is nothing mentioned regarding the number of spoons of sugar would suffice or the common usage of sugar replacement but there is mention of the practice of blowing on the hot tea to cool it off, considered a no-no. My grandfather who was from "the old country" used to pour his tea into his saucer as a means of getting it to cool down in addition to copious blowing on the liquid, followed by the placing a cube of sugar in his mouth, before taking a sip of tea.. Wonder what the tea etiquette people would say about that!

After reading through the list of do's-and-don'ts and really in the end, a cup of tea is a cup of tea is... It's that wonderful feeling that flows through your body as the tea makes its way to the final destination of the stomach. The manner in which its consumed isn't as important - in my opinion - as the enjoyment it gives. To quote Monty Python: "make tea, not war."

Wondering about the written word and who reads them

As writers, words are a means in which to share our feelings and commentary on life in general. Frequently and for me, it's something spotted on the Web that begs personal elucidation or perhaps the sharing of a personal experience. Sort of a means in which to clear and clean my brain of accumulated clutter.

Writing output is only as interesting as the readers who drop by the blog for a change of pace or perhaps fall upon it accidentally, but decide to hang around to see what's it's all about. All this is to make the point that today, upon conducting my daily check-in, I discovered to my surprise that there was merely one - 1 - lonely page view. This reality has caused me to wonder about the sudden loss of interest in this blog

In the way of background information, my inspiration comes from multiple sources. Sometimes it's a story or article on one of the news sites that catches my eye or a personal experience that I feel would be of interest to the public, who ever they may be. It would be interesting to know who reads this blog if any readers feel the urge to own up that they drop by from time-to-time. But I digress.

Blogs that received the most attention focused on the royal nuptials of Kate and William and why my wedding invitation was not in the mail, what to wear for the occasion just in case an invitation ever did arrive (still waiting) and how to conduct oneself in front of royalty. Obviously, this struck a familiar chord with people.

Related to this is in the "if ever" and "just in case" category are pieces of etiquette advice offered by Debretts, "the" authority when it comes to decorum for all occasions. You know - how to hold a teacup properly...whether it would be socially acceptable to use a cloth napkin dipped in a water glass to remove a clothing stain. Those sort of musings.

Another subject that received a lot of attention for a long time was the still missing (to the best of my knowledge) Wookie the cat, whose owner was threatened with a fine on Christmas Eve no less, for putting up posters of his beloved pet. Another biggie was the ever ponder-some issue of why the chicken crossed the street. Lots of readers were interested in chickens raison d'etre and motivation for this move. Actually, I've never personally witnessed a chicken crossing a road, period. Perhaps it's merely one of those urban legends or something. But I digress. Again.

All of this is leading up to pondering the issue of my declining blog readership. Then again, perhaps it's not surprising. According to www.wpvirtuoso.com, who labels itself as "the best Wordpress blogging magazine out there",  there are more than 152,000,000 blogs on the Internet. Furthermore:

- most people read blogs more than once per day
- 13% inspire a purchase
- 17% discover a product or service
- 19% get support/answers

Morning is the most popular time when people read blogs and morning blog reading starts at 7 a.m. and peaks at 10 a.m.
A new blog is created somewhere in the world every half-second.

Given all these numbers, the challenge is greater to find subjects that will grab the attention of passers-by. It's all a numbers game in the end, anyway.

Part time job offer that has some teeth to it. Wanted: crocodile response agents

People  leading a safe and predictable life who are looking for a novel and exciting job challenge with a definite edge to it might be interested in this employment offer. The Florida Fish and Wildlife Conservation Commission is putting out a call for people who are interested in working with crocodiles. Not exactly working with the crocs since humans don't usually work with the lizards unless you're a Steve Irwin and the like. Let's say...sort-of along side.

According to the blurb in the SunSentinel newspaper in south Florida, crocodile numbers are increasing and are putting in appearances in local canals, back yards and golf courses from the Florida Keys to the Palm Beach County. Not exactly the type of creature you want to encounter while hoeing your garden or teeing off on a golf green. It's  is a part-time position, which doesn't require experience although some contact dealing with crocodiles is preferred, and applicants must have a willingness to learn how to handle the sharp-toothed lizards.

"So stop beating around the bush and tell us about the job, Eleanor!"

The job description, which calls for those hired to re-locate nuisance crocodiles that meander into human territory, pays $25 per hour and offers outdoor enthusiasts the opportunity to work outdoors. Those hired will work in Miami-Dade County and the Upper Keys where the crocs are making frequent appearances. The position also requires a person who is none-confrontational and low key given that they will be dealing with humans who will not be pleased to learn that they may have to learn to live with appearances by the sharp-toothed lizards.

American crocodile numbers have risen from a low of 200 or so in the 1970s to about 2,000 today, with more of them roaming north from their core nesting areas in southern Everglades National Park and the Upper Florida Keys. Training will be provided one-on-one along side Florida Wildlife agents. How does one handle and re-locate crocodiles? Very carefully. A little bit of crocodile humor...

Those interested in applying - as exciting as this position is, I'll pass - email SNAP@myfwc.com, using the subject line "crocodile response agent."

Stuff - cats meows

The fashion world strives to re-invent itself designing creations that are unique yet sellable to attract the attention of potential buyers. Every year designers create trendy styles in the hope that they will be bought by people looking for that special look and something unique and different. It's only logical that fashionable pet owners would also want their four-legged furry companions with whom they share their lives, to wear the latest trendy togs.

When it comes to wearing animal fashions, cats are not a species that spring to mind given their independent and detached demeanor. Be that as it may, an online cyber boutique has created a line of hand-made leather and nickel silver battle armour for - wait for it - cats. The boutique, Etsy shop Schnaububle promotes its line as "100% wearable, flexible, and comfortable, the Cat Battle Armor is a for-real armor harness for your kitty."

The first thought that sprung to mind when reading the promo for the suit is how to convince a cat that it should wear something, anything, period. I mean, cats as a rule, are not a cooperative specie and it could be a battle royale trying to get kitty to wear a suit of armor.

The second thought is other than fashion vanity and one-up-man-ship, why would a cat require battle armor, period? According to the blurb, "your cat will become an unstoppable force for slaughter in this fully articulated suit, shielding him/her from foes while allowing unimpeded movement across the battlefield or living room floor.

So I'm thinking here, sending out a cat into battle on the back yard fence or anywhere, actually, in this type of outfit would be cause alone for a feline skirmish. I mean, you imagine the reaction of neighborhood cats upon spotting a kitty in armor?

"Hey! What's that thing crawling along the fence? Cheez - never seen anything like it before! Maybe we should attack!" the local kitty gang would utter, upon spotting the costumed combatant.

"It's me, Mittens! My owner made me wear this," the decked out cat would mew out.

"And you let her?" would be the logical question that would be asked, after which the cats would break out in uncontrollable laughter. Well they might.

But I digress.

The promotional blurb goes on:

"Your cat will become an unstoppable force for slaughter in this fully articulated suit, shielding him/her from foes while allowing unimpeded movement across the battlefield or living room floor. The imposing torso section features several riveted, articulated plates and a terrifying rack of dorsal spines. Your cat's hindquarters are sheathed beneath exquisitely arrayed overlapping scales stitched to a soft leather backing, adorned with nickel silver dome rivets. Midnight black scales and plates are finished with a glossy protective coat and seamlessly join together like the petals of a deadly flower. Adjustable at the collar with elastic and two nickel silver buckles, and at the belly with grommeted corset-style lacing for a secure, comfortable fit."

Somehow, the term, "force for slaughter" is somewhat disturbing as is "a terrifying rack of dorsal spines."

Strictly an observation and not being a cat owner and all, doubtful whether cats really need this type of protection. That being written, there is a big market for animal outfits. Head on down here: http://www.etsy.com/listing/175112598/cat-battle-armor  to see a cat wearing the suit.

There's a question and answer section for people who want to know how the creator got the cat to wear the outfit among other questions. So whad'ya think people reading this? Would you dress your cat in anything, never mind a suit of armor?

Speaking of Cats

There are pet cats and then there are pet cats that should be considered pets. Seems that an Indonesian man has what he believes to have made friends with a 400 pound Bengal tiger. It's rare that humans can strike up a friendship with a tiger but Abdullah Sholeh believes he has achieved it. He has even given his pet a name, Mulan Jamilah, who was given to him as a gift when it was a 3 month old cub.

The owner sleeps, plays and play fights with the tiger and frequently chooses to sleep alongside the cat in the tiger's enclosure instead of his own bed. This begs the question: why?  A tiger being a tiger and having the nature of a tiger, metal bars have been installed to separate the friends when they are together in an enclosure. Mulan is fed 13 pounds of chicken or goat meat twice per day. Let's hope that his appetite doesn't increase or he gets the urge for an in-between-meals snack.

"Dogs have owners, cats have staff."  ~Author Unknown