It's all in the getting there

I thought I would give my computer a thrill last night and actually turn it off (I am a chronic ‘hibernator’ of my laptop you see), but I got rather a lot more than I bargained for when 15 windows updates later it finally allowed its fan to halt into silence.

Forgetting all of this I come leaping with joy and enthusiasm (well walking earnestly anyway) into the office room this morning to settle down to a hard write when I note that a wiggle of the mouse does not awaken my bear of a computer from its slumber.

“Oh that’s right I turned the damn thing off”, I mutter and immediately press the go switch.

Half an hour later (oh all right, it was only about 8 minutes, but it seemed like half an hour) my computer had finally finished updating, installing, testing, opening files, unpacking its toys, making its coffee and whatever the hell else it felt it needed to do before it would let me use it.

In the interim, I got to thinking....

Not so very long ago, this was standard practice....starting your computer and dialling up the Internet took ages and it was often a hit and miss affair at best. Merely sending an email was quite the achievement and as for downloading them...well...if someone sent all their wedding photos or something, it was very much your turn to make the coffee, drink it and go back for a second cup before the process was even halfway done.

But at the time we thought it was just brilliant. It is all, of course, relative.

When the Internet and email were new, we were fascinated with the concept of rocketing information across the ether and having it reach another person in a far off location within minutes, sometimes seconds. It was all most clever, except really we had been doing this for years via the old school methods of phone and fax.

And this is where stuff gets a bit interesting. While it is obvious that the Internet (developed in the 1950s and used successfully by the US Department of Defence under the name ARPANET in the 1960s) is the most recent of the technologies here, one would be forgiven for thinking that fax (facsimile) machines are a relatively new concept compared to the phone.

However...

According to the youngest sibling: the aforementioned Internet, Alexander Bain obtained a patent for his ‘Electric Printing Telegraph’ in 1843, Frederick Bakewell made several improvements on Bain's design and produced a telefax machine a little later, and by 1865, a dude called Giovanni Caselli had introduced the first commercial telefax service between Paris and Lyon. 

Some 11 years before Alexander Graham Bell was granted a patent for the telephone. 

Well who'da thunkit? 

Though the predecessor to all this carryon was of course the telegraph and while Samuel Morse patented his version of the invention in 1837 (inspired by hearing too late of his wife’s illness and death to be able to make it home in time for anything other than a visit to her gravestone), others around the globe had had their ears to the grindstone on various telegraphic devices since 1804.

And, while we’re at, it was Morse’s assistant, Alfred Vail, not Morse himself, who actually developed what became known as Morse Code.

Samuel Morse is also credited with saying, upon the opening of the telegraph line between Baltimore and the U.S. Capitol building: “What hath God wrought?” And that’s fine, coz he actually did that one.

So what were the options before that?

Pony Express?

Well that was actually around at the same time as the telegraph (in 1859 – 60 to be precise) but because the telegraph system was not yet widespread in America people were still in need of a way to transmit information fast and these guys got your message from one coast to the other in as little as 10 days. Which was mighty jolly quick in those days. 

Previous to that?

Well it’s been the same story for thousands of year....good old snail mail (though delivery methods have varied). Since almost the birth of writing, delivering information via ‘mail’, as it would come to be known, has been the most efficient way of letting those at a distance know what’s up. The first organized system of doing such is believed to have been in Egypt back when the Pharaohs needed to sling their weight around on frequent occasion and keep the plebs in line with a decree or three.

Prior to that of course, some poor sod had to either ride or walk to the neighbouring village/tribe and tell them personally what was happening on their end of the trail.

Primitive and painfully slow you may think, but at times I can see the merit in this method. Only really, really important information was transmitted. I really doubt someone would have wandered several miles merely to share a drawing of their dinner, or acquire an audience in order to recount the latest antics of the village idiot.

*stares blankly at her 50,000 unread emails....flicks to Facebook......scrolls through the day's posts*

And God knows what the Pharaohs would have made of all this malarkey

Though on the upside, I bet they would have got quite a kick out of the cat videos. :)

A clowder of cats

It is very difficult to be angry at a kitten.

Well unless you are a big white cat called Max, then you can be highly pissed off with no trouble at all. But on the assumption that you are humanoid....kittens are very hard to be miffed at and I should know because I now have two.

Yes, that’s right, the Kevman and I are now the proud adoptive parents of two wee tabbies that are just the most darling balls of fluff you ever did see. Borderline psycho, but darling nonetheless.

Though it was a somewhat unexpected adoption.

It all started some weeks back when we visited our mates’ place and couldn't help but comment on the plaintive wailing emanating from the neighbour’s property. Our friends were at their wits end with it and on that particular night (the third of the racket) decided to investigate. Thus the adventure began. What started as a date night with Jack Daniels turned into an assault course of roof climbing, fence dismantling and tunnelling under the edge of a neighbour’s junk shed to extract four abandoned kittens.

And cute little felines they were too, but after much cajoling on the part of our friends the Kevman remained steadfast that no new mogs were entering our house; especially ones that needed round the clock feeding and care.

Fast forward several weeks and whaddya know, someone has been having a wee cogitate and decides that some more feline presence is just what that household needs (and they reckon women are changeable!)

“I think I’ll give them a text so they can bring the kittens round and we can pick one.”

I took his forehead temperature with the back of my hand.

“Sure” I said evenly, careful not to intrude into his deep thought and message composition. I felt it unwise at this juncture to point out I'd be the poor shmuck left cleaning up after them most of the time as I had to admit I had become rather fond of the thought of a new kitty or two and didn't want to do anything to jeopardize the mission.

Sure enough, an hour later, around our friends came and then it was my turn to cajole: “But sweetie, they can keep each other company if we get two”

“Two!”

*sweetest smile*

*stern eyebrow*

*look that suggests he is the love of my life and I would never wish for anything ever again*

*defeated sigh*

And thus Merlot and Shiraz came into our lives.

And it’s been a smooth week all up. All the hard work has been done: they’re litter trained, healthy, playful and eat and drink like champions

Unfortunately Max (who belongs to the Kevman’s resident Gypsy Niece) is not nearly so enchanted. Upon sighting the new occupants of the house, his face contorted into a severe frown and he looked at us much like we had pooped in his food bowl. If a cat could say “What the f**k?!” that would have been about the time we would have heard it.

We have attempted a gentle introduction, but in a blur of fangs and fur he scarpered like a...well like a scalded cat really. He was not having a bar of it. The concept of sharing his bachelor pad with two juniors of the species is apparently not something that is coming naturally to him. In fact he gives the strong impression that he would rather peel his ears off with a blunt instrument than have anything further to do with them.

We could be up for some challenging times here (and no doubt a few more blogs), but in the meantime we are enjoying the pitter patter of tiny paws and the fact that they aren't heavy enough to break anything.

Yet.

It's all a bit crafty really....

It’s not that I have an addictive personality.....

Ok, I have an addictive personality

But it’s not like I mean to get absorbed in an activity for days on end. Time just sort of escapes me....scurries out the cat flap like a midnight ninja before I even have a chance to notice it was there.

But I have been using this escapee time productivity, I promise. I've been on a bit of a craft bent of late and anyone who has any sort of crafty inclinations will know where I'm heading with this.

First it was crochet....found some amazing wool, ‘boom’ a knee rug is born (perfect for a gift)
Thought about a shawl but then.....

Knitting: Hat, two scarves and halfway through a baby’s jersey (also perfect gifts)

But then I got a cross stitch idea

But I want to finish the jersey

But I got a really cool cross stitch idea!

And so the cross stitch phase begins. There is no controlling it I tell you, it’s like its own life form!

*Booming Godlike voice*: “You will craft or die!!”

“But the dishes need done....”

“Who cares! Thy needle shall not lay dormant!”

Like I’m gonna argue with the Craft God

Now as multi-talented as I may be, I can’t help but be aware of the fact that once upon a time many women used to dread this crap. “Come come, sit with your needle work, it’s not going to stitch itself now is it?” while they’re secretly sitting there yearning to go and poke some mofo with a sword or something much more exciting. But these days, after a day of physical and mental conquest, it’s more than therapeutic to sit down and quietly stab cloth and wool with sharp objects.

Saves on voodoo dolls.

And like the soup of a blog previous, I suspected there was quite the history to all this, though as it turns out, people have been making soup for a fair while longer than they have been cross stitching. The oldest cross stitch items are considered to be Celtic but the Egyptians were pretty keen on it too back in the day and many examples have been found buried in various tombs.

The oldest example found in the U.S of A is a sampler created by Loara Standish, daughter of Captain Myles Standish, and pioneer of the Leviathan stitch, circa 1653. (You can sleep tonight now you know that)

What I found a tad fascinating was that the two most common threads (DMC and Anchor) have been around since the 1800s! Well they must be doing something right.

Now the invention of the sewing machine in 1851, did put somewhat of a dent in the hand sewing habit but since the 1960’s it's been all go again. Even the young bods are getting into it and are bringing their modern tastes with them. In the UK, for example, one can now hang out at a “Stitch and Bitch” meeting, enjoying some stichery and a spot of hard core goss all at the same time.

Sounds pretty cool actually

What I was really curious about though (as one would expect with me) was how the gender divide was standing on this. While we are no doubt progressing in the content of the stitching....sugar skulls are now available alongside sunset scenes etc etc, are the guys busting out their needles and getting into a bit of stitch craft these days or is it still only the domain of the ovaried?

Well the stats aren't looking fabulous to be honest, but there are few guys entering the fold and one in particular is owning it nicely. So I'll leave you here with Jamie Chalmers, otherwise known as Mr X Stitch. Join him and his fellow crafters on his website or read a most excellent blog article about him on Urban Threads' StitchPunk site (both links below).

I, however, had better go...I feel an electricity in the air and my hands are starting to twitch

“Where is your needle?!”

All right, all right I’m going!

http://www.mrxstitch.com/workshops-presentations/

http://www.urbanthreads.com/blog/?p=6398

Pains in the arse...and other places...

Human beings do some pretty dumb shit at times.

And I'm not just talking about those who try to mimic their favourite YouTube stunt and consequently break their face off. It’s usually on a much simpler level than that.When it comes to our personal well-being, we’re just often not that bright.

While the diet and exercise industry makes a killing off our desires to ‘be healthy’ We don’t always pay attention to the other messages our body is sending. In fact “I'm fine” would have to be the biggest line of bullshit we feed the world (and ourselves half the time) and we really gotta knock that shit off. We often leave aches, pains, swellings, rashes, fatigue and digestive difficulties etc etc etc unattended until they really start to get stroppy...and thus make healing take twice as long.

And when we finally do go to a doctor we only do a half-arsed job of following what he or she says.

“I don’t like doctors” is a popular refrain here, the go to excuse when you really know you should go but just don’t wanna.

Ya know what, they’re probably not all that fond of you either...just putting it out there. They smile, they listen, they diagnose and they prescribe knowing full well you’re not going to take heed of the majority of health advice they give...rest, drink plenty of water etc.....hell, they'll be lucky if you even take the full course of tablets they prescribe at the times you’re supposed to.

 “I don’t like taking pills” Here we go again. My knee cap is falling off but stuffed if I'm taking any of those pills and anti inflammatory crap.

Hell no, why would you want to decrease the stress on your body that the pain and inflammation causes to make to make it heal faster. Just silly really.

And who needs to take the whole lot of those antibiotics; feel better after two days but the doc’s given you a whole week of the damn things. Yeah you do that buddy.... you stop taking them, so the bugs that remain have a chance to get stronger and make you sick again....and if you’re real lucky, they'll now be immune to the original anti-biotic and you'll need a stronger one, or better yet, there won’t be a stronger one which means you've CREATED A SUPERBUG!

Pleased with yourself?

Don’t get me wrong, some doctors aren't the best, they blatantly ignore nutritional options (whole ‘nother blog right there) and from what we hear about Big Pharma paying off the ones in America, well there is definitely cause for concern. But on the small scale, we got to do out bit.

For example, if your vision’s a bit dodgy and you’re feeling rather faint...get your ass to a doc. You've probably just got a vitamin or mineral deficiency but they’re just the people to be able to tell you which one you’re lacking. Failing that you could indeed have brain cancer but smaller tumours are easier to remove than big ones so either way, early detection is probably a good thing

In short there are a few things to watch for that will give you a good indication of when it is medical professional time.

According to several websites, they are as follows

     
1) New symptoms that have come about either suddenly or gradually but worsening. Things such as headaches or stomach pain that is very occasional and relatively mild is probably nothing to be too concerned with. The same things that suddenly appear and quite severely or gradually worsen over time are sufficient to sent you to the local medic for a once over and maybe some tests.

        
2) Common cold and flu symptoms, particularly coughing, that last more than two to three weeks. Colds and flu can sometimes be quite intense, but should sod off again once they have done their biz. If this doesn't happen then it is time for medical input to perhaps check for bacterial infection, immune system deficiencies or other problems.

3) Vomiting and diarrhoea continuing for several days and/or accompanied by blood where it shouldn't be and signs of dehydration (such as very dry mouth and armpits, confusion, and decreased urination). Green or black vomit is doc worthy as well (I didn't even know you could vomit in those colours.).

4) Pain or discomfort that stops you living your life normally or performing certain regular activities. Yes you may just me an unfit sod, but you should be able to get fit if you so desire without pain stopping you. So go get it sorted.

5) Anything that affects your breathing or swallowing as well as chest pain. Kind of a no brainer don’t you think.

6)  Psychological difficulties that are not going away. It’s ok to feel sad and negative sometimes, it’s not ok to feel sad and negative for six months, get help. If you find your moods often shift dramatically, you are addicted to certain substances or behaviours with negative consequences or that you have marked anxieties and/or difficulties in social situations, this may also be an indicator of a larger condition or imbalance in hormones and/or brain chemistry. Telling someone is important, it does not mean you are a wimp, it means you are onto it enough to know that something isn't right or that you are no longer in control of the situation and you need the professionals on the job. Just do it. Trust me on this.

This is not an exhaustive list. Basically, if something doesn't feel right, just go, especially if you have previously had a major condition, such as cancer, or the patient is elderly or a child.

And follow up for God’s sake. If the medicine doesn't work or you develop new symptoms...back you go. Some things take a bit of trial and error to work out. Your doctor is not a diagnostics computer that converts symptoms into basic error messages. He or she is human and has to work it out the hard way.

The easy thing is to start the investigation on time...that’s something we can all get smarter at.

Some soup for the soul...

I have a million things I would like to write about this week but, well, this Tigress is feeling a bit tatty round the edges to be honest....just a tad under the weather. And tempting though it is to distribute my thorough disdain for certain affluent socialites following their ass being shoved in my face via social media all week....I shall resist.

For now.

So consequently much of my time today has been allocated toward napping and making soup. It seems that one can’t go past an all inclusive meaty broth to comfort thyself during times of duress....or whenever you’re just feeling generally pathetic, a phenomenon I have comprehensively covered right at the moment.

Thus I got to wondering, as I do, about just how long this practice had been going on for. As it turns out....people have been seeking solace in the soup pot for quite a while now

According to my chums at gourmetrecipe.com, soup came on the scene about 6000 BC....probably due to the development of waterproof containers in which to boil it. After that it kinda just kept on developing.

The word soup, so I'm told, comes from the French soupe ("soup", "broth"), which, in turn, comes through Vulgar Latin suppa ("bread soaked in broth") from a Germanic source, from which also comes the word "sop", a piece of bread used to soak up soup or a thick stew.

Glad they came up with something to call it. Could you just imagine: “Oh hey, come over for some noms, I'm making my famous boiled water with carrots, onions, potatoes, pumpkins and half a cow in it, you'll love it”

Menus would be a nightmare.

Speaking of eateries, even ‘restaurants (literally translated: 'food that restores")’ were originally set up (in 1765 Paris) to only sell soup: “an antidote to physical exhaustion” Cured all your ills and half your neighbours as well apparently.

So even historically, soup was the shiz

Well all except for that “Black Soup” concoction that the Spartans ate, made from boiled pig’s legs, blood, salt and vinegar. From all accounts that shit was just nasty.

But for the most part, soup scoffing seems to have been a pleasant activity enjoyed by many and in modern times we now have whole cookbooks devoted to the subject. With contributions from nearly every country, it can become quite the culinary travelogue:  borscht from Russia, consommé from France, Bird’s nest soup from China...

And some lesser known ones...

For example, in Pakistan there is Chakna (or "chaakna"), a spicy stew made out of goat tripe and other animal digestive parts.

Yum...

The Polish dig soup made from fresh or picked cucumbers.

While in Turkey no one would bat an eyelid at being served Analı Kızlı, which literally translates to 'with daughters and mothers' (the daughters being the chickpeas and the mothers being the little semolina balls).

Who knew soup could be quite so.....weird.

But as much fun as I'm having researching the predecessors and faraway kith and kin to my dinner, I had best go forth and consume it before I waste way to mere shadow of my former self.

Ok, that ain’t gonna happen but I am keen on testing the whole ‘antidote to physical exhaustion’ theory

All in the name of research, and you know how I love my research.

Australian Wildlife 101 (Or...A Helpful Guide to what might kill you in Australia)

Australia is no picnic. And if you’re smart, it’s a country in which you will never go for one either. The amount of things that can kill you in the great land Down Under is quite staggering. And it’s not just the snakes and spiders that'll do you in.

I recently had a wee probe around the Internet, doing a spot of research and happened upon the Australian Geographic page outlining Australia’s top 30 most dangerous animals.

It immediately occurred to me that the list of potentially lethal critters in this country must be fairly decent then for them to be able to isolate a top 30. I was simultaneously awed and terrified.

Let me share with you some of their revelations (if you are planning to visit Australia, you may want to skip this and await next week’s blog, just putting it out there)

Snakes: Although it is not a snake that tops the 30 most dangerous animals list, Australia is home to not only the world’s deadliest snake but also a plethora of its almost equally noxious serpentine relatives. Fortunately the most venomous slitherer: Oxyuranus microlepidotus or the Inland Taipan, is an elusive chappy and doesn't come out to play with humans very often, thus resulting in its total death count of zero. This is fantastic considering it contains enough toxin to kill several humans....you know, just in case it encounters a flock of rapid herpetologists or something.

What is not so fantastic is that of the 139 other breeds of land snake in this country, way too many of them also pack some kill juice and will not hesitate to share it with you if the whim takes them, or you piss them off; in fact 12 snakes feature in the top 30. I was heartened to discover however, that the snake considered the most dangerous overall was called the Eastern Brown snake....that is, it lives more ‘over East’....i.e.. not here.

I was not nearly so heartened to discover that number two on the dangerous snake list was called the Western Brown snake.....

I stopped researching snakes about then.

Spiders: Australia is also home to a rather nifty assortment of toxic spiders. Now to be fair, I really shouldn't wax dramatic on our little arachnid buddies as they haven’t killed anybody in Australia since 1981. And while a nibble from the Sydney Funnel Web spider (seventh on the dangerous creatures list) can make you feel rather unfortunate, and a nip from a Redback (24^th) ain’t exactly a waltz in the park either, overall you have more chance of carking it from a bee sting in Australia than you ever will from a spider bite (a fact that actually promotes the humble honey bee to 2^nd on the aforementioned top 30!).

So if a snake or spider isn’t the most dangerous animal in Australia, what is?

“Crocodile!” I hear you shout.

Nope that‘s number six...and while they have been verified at over six metres long (unverified up to eight metres.....just take a moment there), they are only responsible for the demise to one to two Aussies per year and snack on a very small selection of others.

Scorpion?

Doesn't even feature on the list. Bull ants, giant centipedes and the Australian paralysis tick will do you more damage than those guys.

And if you’re guessing shark, you’d get a big fat ‘no dice’ on that one as well. Coming in at only number four, the Bull shark (stealing 13 places on its cousin the Great White in 17th) is one mean ass predator that can swim up rivers to eat you if it so desires, but it still can’t even penetrate the top three in the danger stakes.

That task is left to other occupants of the sea.

Taking out the Most Dangerous Creature in Australia title is...

Drumroll please...

.....the not so humble Box Jellyfish, and right up its tushy at number three (flanking the honeybee in its number two position) is the Irukandji (another jellyfish).

Jellyfish

I kid you not.

This country is so badass it just uses sharks and snakes as backup. If it really wants to kill yo’ ass it'll chuck a highly toxic ball of goo at you. And the chances of you seeing it coming are slim to none as both the box and Irukandji jellyfish have near invisible tentacles that, and I quote: “can entangle you and have millions of harpoons that inject a lot of venom at once. The box jellyfish in particular...can kill in minutes.”

Well 10 points for efficiency.

You know how Dory said “Just keep swimming, just leep swimm....”... well don’t.

The only good thing about all this, (well from a personal perspective), is that most of the real bad boys are up north, jellyfish included. So unless you’re hanging out somewhere like Darwin, there is not too much to be concerned about.

Unless, of course, you’re moving to Darwin

Where a lot of the mining work is

Like what Kevman does...

Might see if there’s any vodka left from that whole printer episode. See you next week!

Changing It Up

I finally went for a walk this morning.

Not a long one, was just a wee jaunt around a couple of blocks, but it was a start.

A start of what, I hear you say.

Well...

It’s a start to me not creaking around the place and generally feeling like a geriatric sloth.

My body, as a rule, doesn't like movement a whole heap. But it also doesn't like sitting or standing or anything else for that matter so I've decided to ignore it for a while. It’s just being an attention whore.

The ironic thing about joint pain and other various maladies of a rheumatic nature is that they generally respond well to exercise. Exercise that you do not feel even remotely inclined to do because you are usually feeling like arse when you contemplate doing it.

But I figured if I didn’t shift my posterior soon it would seize up all together and since I like the thought of still being able to amble about the place (and also of not turning into a really tubby Tigress) I figured there is no time like the present.

Now here is Western Australia they don’t do daylight savings so theoretically you can be up and at ‘em at about 5am if you so desire.

I don’t.

So at 7am, or thereabouts, I arose, ignored the opinion my body gave about this action, donned my exercise gear and went haring out the door before I could change my mind. I did do the barest amount of stretching to loosen the stiff bits first but due to the fact that I am stretchier than most I thought it best not to overdo this.

Once on the move, things felt ok (I think my body was in shock to be honest). I wasn't able to go hilariously fast like I could previously but we'll go with the whole ‘baby steps’ approach on this one (though preferably without the staggering).

After a brief conversation with a few flies, I made it home again and sat, feeling not quite so broken, contemplating life’s vicissitudes. Not too bad for a first effort.

I will confess though that this sudden desire for movement has not come about in a vacuum. I have been researching various ways to get my body behaving a bit better (and to lose a bit of excess junk in the trunk) and there is no shortage of techniques to examine. Supplements, shakes, protein bars, eating plans, meal replacers....this list is endless and quite frankly, rather repetitive (not to mention very expensive in some cases).

I just want to eat well and consume as little amount of crap as possible...not rocket science but sometimes a girl needs a little help. You see my body has quite a fondness for sugar and lets me know about it on frequent occasion:

“Ooooh look, chocolate, you like chocolate, I know you like chocolate, let’s have some chocolate...”

“Let’s NOT have some chocolate, Jesus Christ I can’t take you anywhere!”

“But I want chocwit” *sad face*

“You’ll have to chat to pancreas, I’m sure she will not be impressed with all the crap you’re trying to feed her”

“Oh pancreas is an old fuddy duddy, never does anything exciting”

“No just sits there producing insulin that stops me dying when I eat chocolate...just SAYING”

“Meh”

And so it goes, sometimes I win, sometimes body wins. It’s a 50/50 chance on any given occasion.

Thus enter Cyndi O’Meara and her site “Changing Habits” (see link below). Now this dietician turned part-time activist has a simple philosophy: don’t eat any crap (that’s no dodgy numbers, no refined stuff, nothing artificial, almost no gluten) and shift your butt for 40 minutes, three times a week.

This, I can work with; food as nature chucks it at you. And I must say, after nary a week of this clean eating/paleo business, I can feel a difference.

So I have spent the remainder of my morning planning a couple of meals including a shopping list and generally being ridiculously organized (I'm almost concerned).

I will keep you posted.

And in the interests of furthering the achievement of my goals, I should sod off and eat something.

“I want chocolate”

“There isn’t any so f**k off”

“But I reeeeeeally need chocolate, let's go buy some!”

“Sure....but you have to walk all the way to the supermarket?”

*crickets*

“That’s what I thought”

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Check out Cyndi O’Meara’s website below J

http://changinghabits.com.au/meet-the-changing-habits-team/cyndi-omeara