Penguins, Polar Bears and Poop

Yesterday we discovered some very interesting facts about polar bears. Like males can weight up to 650kg, they have 42 teeth including large incisors that can lock on to their prey, they have no natural predators, their skin is black, their fur hairs are transparent and despite their ability to kill a man if they wanted to they are really, really cute. Just magnificent creatures really. We were lucky enough to see one up close and personal playing with his yellow toy (which he overwhelmed and captured) and where he was lumbering on the snow, he was graceful and agile in the water.

It was the little black and white chaps that amused me though. They clamoured near us in groups and were much taller (Emporer Penguins) than I imagined. They really looked like stuffed toys that waddled stiffly, wings outstretched,  across the ice.

But in the end it was the lady sitting in front of us that got the most laughs for the day. Watching the dolphins, minding her own business, she let out a shriek when a large poop came dropping from the sky all over her head and legs. They say that being pooped on by a bird is good luck so if that’s true then going by the amount of  poop that dropped on her she’s going to have a LOT of luck. Who knew a seagull had that much poop in them!

 

Mobile Magnet

I love all technology. I embrace new electronic gadgets with a passion. And I love that I am living in an age where I get to see and experience new technologies constantly. I know new things have been created constantly throughout the ages, it’s how we progress and evolve. But somehow I don’t think I would have been as excited by the agricultural age in the same way I am by the technological age. After all, I couldn’t have put a plough in my pocket and taken it out and about with me.

There is one item though that I have become a little concerned about lately. I have taken to keeping bobby pins in my coat pocket. You never know when a breeze will blow up and they will be required. I’ve noticed though that every time I put my mobile phone in my pocket and get it out there are numerous bobby pins magnetised to it, stuck out at all angles. I know they’re just bobby pins. It’s not like a giant lump of metal being drawn to the phone. It’s not pulling me off course as I get about or anything. And it hasn’t pinned me to the side of a car as I walk past. But, surely that’s not great up against my head.

So until proven otherwise I have decided that my phone and I will now have a relationship at arms length. I know it feels like a break up but it’s me, not you. You are much better sitting in my pocket, removed for email and sms’ing. My brain thanks you for your understanding.

Pirate Day or a Smack in the Eye?

So half way through the day I look out the back window and find Russ prone on the ground which I didn’t think was a normal way to be gardening. Upon examination which included blood, an obvious cut and an eyeball that was bloodied red instead of white, followed by mud traipsed across the carpet and consultation with Google, I concluded that a visit to the hospital was in order.

So a trip to Knox Private and one eye patch later they confirmed that it probably wasn’t a new technique in arboreal tending but a laceration and embedded particle of the wooden variety. Also not normal. But rather than poke around themselves they generously provided a Google map (h0w did we live without Google!) to the Eye and Ear hospital, patched Russ up like Pirate Pete (on a bad day), offered wheelchair support (that wasn’t going t0 happen) and waved us goodbye. Alright, so there was no waving but they were very nice.

Fortunately at the hospital they had ‘the match’ on. Strangely Russ, vision impaired as he was, could see the screen from the back of the waiting room, unlike me, with perfect vision (supposedly – although that’s a whole different age-related story) who couldn’t. Anyway, consultation was swift since apparently the entire population of Melbourne wasn’t actually in Melbourne, being Easter and all, and the doc gave us some good news and some bad news in between vasa vagal episodes – not uncommon with an eye injury apparently – which elicited cheerful responses from the docs (so hilarious when it’s not you fainting). The good news was that the wood fragments came away after about 10 minutes worth of probing with cotton buds. The bad news – after examination via the Eyeball Examinator 2000 – there appeared to be a small tear in the retina which could mean either a) a needle being stuck in the eye, or b) an operation. I believe we were going to need the magic 8 ball for Russ to decide that one. However, after two more senior doctors (complete with their own individual black magic boxes of serious eye magnifiers), eager as beavers to get a look at Russ’s eyeball, had a good look, it was determined that the ‘tear’ was in fact an old ‘hole’. There was no explanation forthcoming as to why there might be a hole in his retina but the news that the operation had been diverted and the cut to his eyeball would heal with time and regular squirts of gooey ointment was much more appealing… even if he now had a freakishly alien looking eye.

Bilbeeeeeeee or not to be

I want to like the idea of the Easter Bilby but I am afraid I just struggle with it. I admit I’m not a particularly religious person and therefore Easter doesn’t have the same significance to me as for some. Nonetheless I respect it and understand that it has great significance in our culture. I also understand the sometimes reluctant relationship between Easter and the bunny. After all the bunny, here in Australia, is a pest. Not to mention the over-commercialisation of the chocolate variety at this time of year. If the sugary sweetness doesn’t make you feel a bit ill by the end of the four day break, then the mass consumerism of it all surely will.

Then there is the egg. From tiny solid balls of chocolate to giant hollow foil wrapped treats. Someone once told me you shouldn’t eat anything bigger than your head but there we have them, sitting on the top of supermarket shelves like chocolaty soccer balls.

But as a symbol of Easter, what is it that is wrong with the egg and the rabbit that we needed to trade them in on the Bilby? Nothing against the Bilby. He is in fact endangered and I hope that one day reverses itself. But, the egg, and the rabbit, are both symbols of fertility and rebirth. I’m not sure that the rabbit has been embraced as a symbol for the rebirth of Christ, in fact I’m sure it hasn’t. It is more a symbol of longer standing pagan rituals of spring and new life. After all, rabbits breed like, well, rabbits. The egg, however, is acknowledged as a symbol of rebirth, fertility and creation. So why then do we need the Bilby in the form of a chocolate offering? Isn’t it simply taking consumerism to even greater lengths?

I know I, for one, will be sticking to the age old symbols in the form of the egg and rabbit… and yes, of the chocolate variety.

How many exclamation marks does it take?

The exclamation mark – or point, depending where you’re from – is, in my opinion, a very much overused and abused punctuation mark. The humble full stop never seems to get the same sort of attention. Everyone knows when to use it (except apparently online where grammar seems to have been left at the curb, but that’s a whole different discussion). I mean, no one adds multiple full stops to the end of a sentence to indicate it’s over. There’s no need really. It’s not going to indicate a bigger or better sentence end.

So, why then, do people feel inclined to use the exclamation mark when the sentence isn’t even an exclamation? Or, worse, use it multiple times at the end of a sentence. The very nature of the exclamation mark is to draw attention to the statement already. It’s indicating surprise, expressing emotion, emphasising interjections, indicating alarm. So when I see ten exclamation marks all together I can only assume it denotes such massive alarm, emotion, surprise that the author’s head actually exploded. A shame really. A few less and they could have remained perfectly healthy.

We were taught, and this is probably old school, except in specific circumstances, that if you can’t emphasise those emotions with the words you are using then you need to keep working at your text until it actually produces the desired result. And not rely on the little line with a dot.

Tags: english usage, exclamation mark, exclamation point, grammar, punctuation

Blogging Decisions

I have started a second blog on Blogger. I didn’t want this blog, that is all about my personal ramblings about nothing meaningful, to become simply postings about running. So I thought about it for about two whole weeks before finally making a decision to try Blogger. I’m not sure I’m enjoying it that much but can’t work out if it’s just because I’m so used to the WordPress dashboard. Then just when I thought I had made another decision to start my second blog on WordPress I saw that it’s possible to import your posts from Blogger to WP. But I couldn’t work out, in three nanoseconds which seems to be my concentration span at this time of night these days, whether I could do it with a WP template blog.

It’s so easy to start a blog… until you start wondering ‘what if I could just…’ and the management of it starts to cause confusion.

Tags: blog, Blogger, blogging, WordPress

Softie

I made my first softie a couple of months ago. I wanted to make something special for someone I know and it had to be a penguin. Unfortunately I couldn’t find a penguin pattern that I liked and as I had never made a softie before I wasn’t entirely sure how to go about it. But after scouring the net and searching through a number of books I figured I could draw up my own pattern based on a big oval for the body and embellish from there.

And here is the end result!

He’s not the best softie the world has ever seen but he was made and sent on his way with love. And now I want one myself.

Tags: craft, penguin, sewing, softies

Mersey dotes

Mersey dotes and dosey dotes and little lamesy ivy.

So for 30 odd years that’s what I thought it was. Apparently it makes much more sense than that…

Mares eat oats and does eat oats and little lambs eat ivy!

Glad I’ve sorted that.

Tags: mares eat oats, nursery rhyme

O’Fortuna

We were talking about blossoms at work today. Not in a girly flowery way, in a creative designery way. Which caused me to mention one of my all time favourite movie scenes. Even though the movie is a bit older now I still love it. This is Arthur leading the knights of the round table out to seek the holy grail. O’Fortuna is quite fitting for the scene and the importance of his quest both personally and for his kingdom. But, let’s be honest, it’s really all about the blossoms.

A while back a friend, on hearing of my enthusiasm for the Orff version, recommended the Apotheosis remix version of O’Fortuna. I hated it at first but eventually came to love it, listening to it on my way to work most days. It might take a few listens before embracing it though.

Tags: o'

Round Ringwood Lake

We have managed to continue our running program for the past two months. Although I have contracted a nasty rash (just part and parcel of running I assume) under my arms, that started as chaffing, it’s just a minor hinderance. Fortunately there haven’t been any other major hurdles to progressing through our program. Except the hills of course. They haven’t gone away.

Immediately leaving our house we encounter a couple of minutes of downhill slope which we use to walk down to warm up. As soon as we hit the bottom it angles up significantly becoming what I have dubbed in my head as K2 – which is where we start running. Down the other side of K2 we encounter another sharp upturn into the Matterhorn. Last week we managed to crest K2 without slowing down which was a fairly major achievement, particularly mentally. We are also down to about 3 short walks now in the half hour it takes us to do the run. As a treat I bought myself a present of a new pair of running pants, investing a small fortune but I can only assume they will last me until I retire. And they’re very comfy. AND they wick away the sweat. Sounds gross. But I love the word ‘wicking’ and am encouraged to use it as often as possible.

Anyway, we headed over to Ringwood Lake on Sunday to run the circuit we will be running in the fun run next Sunday. Things I discovered in a public place – even toddlers can run faster than me. Oh well, maybe by the time I’ve worn in my sweat wicking pants and retired I’ll be able to beat her.

Tags: fun run, ringwood lake, running, wicking