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I think we could all use a Druid Blessing 'bout now.
... "This is revolutionary stuff, and it comes from a reinterpretation of the stones of the henge and the bones buried nearby. Darvill and Wainwright believe the smaller bluestones in the centre of the circle, rather than the huge sarsen stones on the perimeter, hold the key to the purpose of Stonehenge. The bluestones were dragged 250km from the mountains of southwest Wales using Stone Age technology. That's some journey, and there must have been a very good reason for attempting it. Darvill and Wainwright believe the reason was the magical, healing powers imbued in the stones by their proximity to traditional healing springs.
The bones that have been excavated from around Stonehenge appear to back the theory up. "There's an amazing and unnatural concentration of skeletal trauma in the bones that were dug up around Stonehenge," says Darvill. "This was a place of pilgrimage for people...coming to get healed."
Oh how I wish I could see this, first hand.
This morning's listening pleasure:
" Cyclical Nature"... ? CYCLE THIS!
Frankly, I can't believe we haven't all taken to the streets, by now. (What would that look like?)
Meanwhile, looks like the stocks rally. Hmmm...?
Why do I get the feeling we're being thrown a bone? In fact, the news feels like one big diversion from the body bags we DO NOT see.
This evenings listening pleasure:
Usage: Their combined verbal and nonverbal IQs make hands our most expressive body parts. Hands have more to say even than faces, for not only do fingers show emotion, depict ideas, and point to butterflies on the wing--they can also read Braille, speak in sign languages, and write poetry. Our hands are such incredibly gifted communicators that they always bear watching.
Observation. So connected are hands to our nervous system
that we rarely keep them still. Indeed, the First Law of Nonverbal
Dynamics could well be, "A hand tends to stay in
motion even while at rest." When a hand is not moving or handling an
object, it is busy scratching, holding, or massaging its partner. This
peculiar tendency of the digits to fuss and fidget intensified as our
fingers became major tools used to explore and shape the material
world. The more gifted they
became, the more we waved them about as sensory feelers. ...
...Which 'splain's why you're always waving your hands about, Pep.
Anatomy. Hands are the tactile antennae we throw out to assay the material world and palpate its moods. Most of the 20 kinds of nerve fiber in each hand fire off simultaneously, sending orders to muscles and glands--or receiving tactile, motion, and position information from sense organs embedded in tendons, muscles, and skin (Amato 1992). With a total of 100 bones, muscles, joints, and types of nerve, our hand is uniquely crafted to shape thousands of signs.
Watching a hand move is rather like peering into the brain itself. ...
A shout out to my co-conspirator: Sending Healing Waves to Pepper who is undergoing hand surgery tomorrow a.m.
This Morning's Listening Pleasure:
'Flix'ed this movie, last night. A bit slow at times, but worth a look. Loved Hal!!
Did anyone out there catch the 3/24 New Yorker, Reflection 'April & Paris' by David Sedaris?
I'll read anything by Mr. Sedaris. While sipping my tea this early a.m., (killing time before my beloved dance class), I woke my kids up laughing so hard.
"Crickets stink. They reek. Rather than dirty diapers or spoiled meat-- something definite you can put your finger on-- they smell like an inclination: cruelty, maybe, or hatred."
It's true. We had an amazing tree frog once- 'Leo'. No need to dwell on Leo's eventual outcome. Suffice it to say, he was parched. The only thing Leo ate were crickets. Gadzooks. They really do reek. Like Sedaris writes, watching little critters is totally mesmerizing. In the daytime, Leo was basically a mollusk gripping onto the side of the aquarium.
My son, who received Leo for his birthday, lost interest in the green mollusk, real quick. Naturally, I became Leo's caretaker. Hence, his eventual demise. ("I JUST CAN'T HANDLE ONE MORE MOUTH TO FEED, DAMMIT!"). I literally cried over this one. Seriously. I shoved myself into our parked car in the driveway and cried my eyes out over Leo's death.
I used to trick Leo. Turn off all the lights at night and then sneak up on his party with a flashlight.
Ahhhh... good times...
Sedaris also mentions his father NEVER killing a small creature that would not think twice about injecting venom into him. The Hubster is like this. He will torment the hell out of the-evil-clear-cutting-next-door-neighbors but will go to herculean lengths to save a spider. What's that?!
I heard it said, (actually on the 'Today Show', this a.m.), that we are the average of the five people we surround ourselves with most. I believe this is true. (Yeah, I know. It's lame to have Today as a source of philosophical influence). It got me thinking about the top 5 I surround myself with most. I think it's working for me.
Not that everyone needs to be all 'up with life' around me--- God Forbid! But, jeeze, can't you just tell when someone is deliberately trying to make you feel shitty in a really hard-to-define kind of way? I really stay away from this as much as possible. (With the exception of some clients I've had).
I miss my best g'friend. A lot. She doesn't live near me. We only get to see one another every few years. Yet, when I do see, or talk to her, it's the best thing ever. She makes me laugh like no one else. She makes me cry, too. She has me all figured out. Yes-- this is annoying. She gives me totally stupid, glitzy stuff I would never buy, or be seen in. But, for her, I will traipse around in public. We don't agree on a lot of socio-political matters. But, somehow we are able to hear one another's perspective. We do piss each other off. We have witnessed each other go through some amazingly "WhatTheFuckWereYouThinking!?" phases. Our secret swapping shames the commodity market. We compare battle scars. We wage battles. We have gone through husbands, religions, lovers, homes, pets, kids, jobs, cosmetic enhancements, you name it... The list goes on and on.
Here's the point, in my estimation: We do NOT judge one another. Well, maybe we do. Okay, here's the real point: We still love one another. And, if in the end I go through an Ingmar Bergman kind of life analysis, I'll be happy if she's still among the average of five. This is a tall order for a life in constant transition.
This mornings listening pleasure:
It does NOT take long for the pollution in China (and, there’s plenty of it), to travel to the SF Bay Area.
Check this out: http://www. abclocal.go.com/kgo/story?section=global_warm&id=5747398
Talk about our global connectedness.
Makes you wonder what we’re doing here to ‘somewhere over there‘… ?
This mornings listening pleasure:
It is possible for me to full on say to this kid: "YOU STINK!" ?? I don't mean slight, little wiffs of body odor. I mean full on gagging, throwing glares, fantasizing about throwing sticks of deodorant at him, B.*freaking* O.
I am the mother of two teenage boys playing on 3 different varsity sports teams. This may sound like another one of my shameless brag-fests--- more, it's a context for you to understand the potential for smelliness from my guys. Do they? No. Because my dear husband and I impressed upon them that girls do not like guys who stink or have fuzzy teeth. This, I tell you with all my heart, is the only reason they put any effort into personal grooming at all.
I share carpooling with a group of 4 teenage boys. When one of them hops in the car, immediately all the windows go down. It was so bad yesterday I had to hang my head out the window. When I found it impossible to drive like that, I slipped the neck of my shirt over my nose. My eyes were literally watering. It's been going on for months. But, lately it's beyond the Harold & Maude Olarific (sp?) machine work-around.
When it first started, I made a general announcement to all the boys as they piled into the car. "If you don't wear deodorant... don't get in this car. You boys are stinky teenagers and I won't be subjected to it." Other kids at school repeatedly tease this kid and tell him he stinks. It's sad. And, so utterly avoidable. I was thinking about carefully letting his mom know. But how? I am usually a woman who is more than willing to address an issue head on. But, when one approaches a kids' moms with 'constructive criticism'? Well, you just don't do this if you want to keep the circular object sitting on top of your shoulders.
It's getting to the point where I think this kid is passive aggressively trying to play out his teenage angst through the only defense he has, his armpits. Is this some kind of new teenage defiance mechanism I don't know about?
Do I know there are more important matters to concern myself with? On a very logical level, of course. However, when you want to vomit every time you're near a kid... it's hard to think of anything.
This mornings listening pleasure:
I hope the revolt doesn't wait for $100 to fill up!!! If our tank is totally empty its 60 to... read more
on Keep On Truckin'?