Week 7 – My nudge to budge :
Gained 6 pounds from sitting and knitting
My belly is swelling while I’m dwelling
There’s solace in chewing while I’m stewing
Now my left arm is sore. Could there be more?
“Unfortunately, like many of this unusual creatures, this species is classified as endangered. Though an odd face, they’re generally good natured with each other, but due to extensive loss of vegetation, there are only about 1,000 of them left. The government of Borneo has instituted strict penalties for those who kill them in an effort to protect what’s left of the dwindling population.”
I’m so smart. I’ve been employing this strategy for years! The only problem is when I remember what I forgot, I forget why I needed to remember what I forgot to remember.
Leigh Wells/Ikon Images/Getty Images
by CHRIS BENDEREV
“A new scientific model of forgetting is taking shape, which suggests keeping multiple memories or tasks in mind simultaneously can actually erode them.”
“Neuroscientists already knew that memories can interfere with and weaken each other while they are locked away in the recesses of long-term memory. But this new model speaks to what happens when multiple memories are coexisting front and center in our minds, in a place called “working memory.”‘
“It argues that when we let multiple memories come to mind simultaneously, those memories immediately lock into a fierce competition with each other.” When these memories are tightly competing for our attention the brain steps in and actually modifies those memories,” says Jarrod Lewis-Peacock, a neuroscientist at UT Austin.”
“The brain crowns winners and losers. If you ended up remembering the milk and forgetting the phone call, your brain strengthens your memory for getting milk and weakens the one for phoning your friend back, so it will be easier to choose next time you’re faced with that dilemma.”
It’s a strain on my brain
P.S. I forgot to tell you that you can read the entire article by clicking on the title above.
Haven’t blogged in a while. The last few weeks have been rough – the fibro-fatigue-fiends frolicking fearlessly. I’m looking for my mop.
Scientists have grown the entire forelimb of a rat in a lab . . . and it moves!
Dr. Harold Ott, head of the Ott Laboratory for Organ Engineering and Regeneration, and his team at Massachusetts General Hospital in Boston were able to “engineer rat forelimbs with functioning vascular and muscle tissue,” . . .
“This may be an important first step leading to the eventual creation of functional, bioartificial limbs that could be used in transplants.”
Ott says this work “finally proved that we can regenerate functional muscle.” (They know because they ran an electrical current through the muscle tissue — and the little rat limb began to twitch).”
“They’ve since applied the first part of this technology — stripping cells from the framework — to the arms of primates, showing the process might work on the human scale.”
Read the article: In Massachusetts Lab Scientists Grow an Artificial Rat Limb
A weird collage I did in my journal led me to the Pie Man.
The pie man delivers
in the dark of night
To your brain he goes straight
when it’s quiet and late
not to give you a fright
He’s a curious sight
Wearing pie on his head,
very berry red
a flaky vest on his chest
he‘s a living taste test
His eyes are wacky
lips are smacky
from too much snacky
of tasty pie
a slightly weird guy
But you’ll think him quite swell
because he’ll never tell
how much you eat
in your dreamy treat
Strawberry, apple or cherry pie
give them all a try
Pecan if you like a crunchy start
Key lime or lemon for sweet ‘n tart
So when you go to bed
No need for dread
chocolate, banana, coconut cream
each taste a luscious dreamy dream
Eat all you crave in your reveries
Pie man guarantees
When I was young (just a few years ago . . . ) I thought it wasn’t a poem unless it rhymed. Shakespeare, Pound, Chaucer were agonizing for me to read in college, much less understand. I’ve grown to appreciate poetry and how it paints pictures, feelings, sentiments, hopes & dreams with words . . . much like visual journals.
It’s haiku prompt day today but as a favor to all my friends who don’t like haiku . . . Joyce . . . READ THIS!
POSSIBILITIES by Wislawa Szymborska
I prefer movies.
I prefer cats.
I prefer the oaks along the Warta.
I prefer Dickens to Dostoyevsky.
I prefer myself liking people
to myself loving mankind.
I prefer keeping a needle and thread on hand, just in case.
I prefer the color green.
I prefer not to maintain
that reason is to blame for everything.
I prefer exceptions.
I prefer to leave early.
I prefer talking to doctors about something else.
I prefer the old fine-lined illustrations.
I prefer the absurdity of writing poems
to the absurdity of not writing poems.
I prefer, where love’s concerned, nonspecific anniversaries
that can be celebrated every day.
I prefer moralists
who promise me nothing.
I prefer cunning kindness to the over-trustful kind.
I prefer the earth in civvies.
I prefer conquered to conquering countries.
I prefer having some reservations.
I prefer the hell of chaos to the hell of order.
I prefer Grimms’ fairy tales to the newspapers’ front pages.
I prefer leaves without flowers to flowers without leaves.
I prefer dogs with uncropped tails.
I prefer light eyes, since mine are dark.
I prefer desk drawers.
I prefer many things that I haven’t mentioned here
to many things I’ve also left unsaid.
I prefer zeroes on the loose
to those lined up behind a cipher.
I prefer the time of insects to the time of stars.
I prefer to knock on wood.
I prefer not to ask how much longer and when.
I prefer keeping in mind even the possibility
that existence has its own reason for being.
“Polish poet and translator Wislawa Szymborska (July 2, 1923–February 1, 2012). In 1996, Szymborska was awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature “for poetry that with ironic precision allows the historical and biological context to come to light in fragments of human reality.” Upon announcing the prize, the Nobel commission noted her reputation as “the Mozart of poetry” but added that there is also “something of the fury of Beethoven in her creative work.”
I’ve been 70 for 4 days and I still feel like I’m 69 . . . maybe I’ll feel my age in a few more days.
My long-time “Fibro-friend” came to celebrate my birthday with me. She wasn’t invited but she came anyway. She said that’s what friends are for. But I showed her and didn’t have a celebration. Here’s my birthday pome to me (in blue) with an intro by “Mac”:
(with apologies to Fleetwood Mac)
“If you wake up and don’t want to smile
If it takes just a little while
Open your eyes and look at the day
You’ll see things in a different way”
“Don’t stop thinking about tomorrow
Don’t stop. It’ll soon be here”
A live performance of Fleetwood Mac’s classic hit, ‘Don’t Stop’ with help from the University of Southern California’s Trojans Marching Band
(poem with 2 “haiku verses”, Haiku Horizons’ prompt CIRCLE)
When I’m tired I crave something sweet: Frozen cherry pie, on sale, can’t be beat . . . unless I drop it on my feet . . . .
One of the reasons I follow the Baha’i World Faith:
Someone asked, with concern, how I was feeling about my impending retirement. Sounded a bit like my impending demise! I am actually feeling a bit of relief and am preferring to think of it as re-treading as opposed to retire-ment!
Haiku “Ode” to Fibromyalgia
(haiku prompt “RELEASE”)
Please release me let me go!
romance is kaput
* * *
I don’t want you anymore
time to get a life
Please release me let me go
for I don’t love you anymore
To waste our lives would be a sin
Release me and let me love again
I have found a new love dear
And I will always want her near
her lips are warm while yours are cold
Release me my darling let me go
for I don’t love you anymore
So release me and let me love again
Please release me can’t you see
you’d be A fool to cling to me
To live a lie would bring us pain
So release me and let me love again
“Release Me” (sometimes rendered as “Release Me (And Let Me Love Again)”), is a popular song written by Eddie Miller, Robert Yount, and James Pebworth under the pseudonym Dub Williams, published in 1946 . (Wikipedia)
Gene Autry singing Home, Home on the Range inspired my original Haiku ( posted the last time the prompt was “home”). For your literary pleasure I’ve added a another “homey” haiku.
Panic on the Prairie Haiku
International Dot Day? How cool is it to celebrate the DOT! It’s celebrated on September 15th and it’s all about encouraging kids to discover how they can make a difference. I didn’t know this until I read Mama Cormier’s last post!
Peter Reynolds, The Dot
I wish I had this wonderful picture from Mama Cormier’s students for my “branch” post! Is this a perfect picture to go with the branch haiku . . . or what!!!!
*“A fundamental teaching of Bahá’u’lláh, the founder of the Baha’i faith, is the oneness of the world of humanity. Addressing mankind, He says: “Ye are all leaves of one tree and the fruits of one branch.”
“A fundamental teaching of Bahá’u’lláh, the founder of the Baha’i faith, is the oneness of the world of humanity. Addressing mankind, He says: “Ye are all leaves of one tree and the fruits of one branch.”
“In this way His Holiness Bahá’u’lláh expressed the oneness of humankind whereas in all religious teachings of the past, the human world has been represented as divided into two parts, one known as the people of the Book of God or the pure tree and the other the people of infidelity and error or the evil tree.”
“The former were considered as belonging to the faithful and the others to the hosts of the irreligious and infidel; one part of humanity the recipients of divine mercy and the other the object of the wrath of their Creator.
His Holiness Bahá’u’lláh removed this by proclaiming the oneness of the world of humanity and this principle is specialized in His teachings for He has submerged all mankind in the sea of divine generosity. Some are asleep; they need to be awakened. Some are ailing; they need to be healed. Some are immature as children; they need to be trained. But all are recipients of the bounty and bestowals of God.”
sleep on fiber fill
not to insult fellow birds
down pillows offend
* * *
Cable network down
irritated bird snores
Network TV bores
Serendipity is a wondrous thing – Art Camp bird lesson “Put a Beak on It!” and Ramesh Sood’s haiku were meant for each other!
Ah, rain and sun and
rain and sun and rain and sun;
irritated birds . . .
winds fail to pick up songs when
passing through the trees
Left to right: Morley’s emotions boomer-rang all over the place, Humphrey likes to be babied even tho he’s “older than Methuselah”, and Methuselah is very stodgy and smokes cigars. (the two babies were just born and haven’t developed any personality . . . or bad habits . . . yet . . .)
Instead of buying candy I been saving my allowance for Summer Camp – Carla Sonheim’s Summer Art Camp. As you might have guessed by now I LOVE Carla, her classes and emphasis on having fun with art. The first camp assignment is drawing 3 crabs (better than 12 princes!) with non-dominant hand and then a water-color of sea shells (to come).
Deep Fried Crab Haiku
Used to be hard-shelled
Age has marinated me
Now I’m a softy*
*Soft-shell crab is a culinary term for crabs which have recently molted their old exoskeleton and are still soft. This means that almost the entire animal can be eaten, rather than having to shell the animal to reach the meat. The exceptions are the mouthparts, the gills and the abdomen, which must be discarded. The remaining, edible part of the crab is typically deep fried. Wikipedia
My computer’s been in the hospital. Aliment unknown. (using my Husband’s computer – when available).
This weeks’ haiku prompt is HOME. My Haiku (which I’ already posted the last time the prompt was “home”) is inspired by Gene Autry singing Home, Home on the Range.
Panic on the Prairie Haiku