An Absence of Sun

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Welcome friend, it’s come around again, we have officially entered the seasonal shift when morning light has attained a later state of being. These days, when my alarm sounds out, and I battle to pop my peeper’s open, I am greeted by a dungeon-like darkness. The only thing missing is the shackles. And to be truthful it’s not the pitch-black mornings which bothers me the most. It’s the possibility that crude creeping creatures might be hiding in the lightless space. That idea quickly ignites my imagination and brings to life the horror of unexpected slippery touches, bony grasping fingers, and weird grunting noises… And then I remember, my husband is away at work.

And so it begins, the return to the dark and dismal rise and shine time. The absence of the sun has throttled the very breath out of my fun loving demeanour. I find myself prompted to drag the life size skeleton, Mr. Bones from our garage and have him sit beside me on the couch. We lean in towards one another, fleshy humerus to naked humerus and listen to the top ten hits of funeral music. We silently mourn the death of my chirpiness, although to be frank, Mr. Bones seems quite unsympathetic to my current state of being.

I glance out into the blackness of the early morning hours, and summarily decide the stars are grieving too, as they are veiled by a thick coverlet of clouds. The only light in the room is the orange glow from my Himalayan salt rock. I could turn on a real light but that would interrupt the mood. And in all truthfulness, I’m not quite miserable yet, I’m simply setting the scene. I figured I may as well wait and see what happens, after all, misery loves company. I ruminate for a while longer, and soon realize it’s not coming. Misery has snubbed my overture. I drag Mr. Bones back to the garage, and set him on his sled with his sunglasses positioned over his empty eye sockets. His day won’t get much worse than it already is, and at that bright thought, I feel myself smile.

Paddleboard For Peace

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I’ve been contemplating the world from my secluded slice of heaven for a while now. Our lake invites a reflective state as you can see from the photo above. My daughter’s dog, Mica enjoys a good paddle on the water, and I am happy to oblige. My hubby occupies the other board and he struggles to keep up. I revel in the fact that I am faster than he. On land, he is the fleetest of foot, his legs compare to the stilts of a caribou running in front of a wildfire. If he strapped on skis, he’d be akin to a bunny on steroids. If you give him a pedal bike, his legs spin in a blur like the roadrunners in the Looney Toon’s cartoons, “Meep Meep, try to catch me.” So I admit, I practically glow with satisfaction when I look back on him as he wobbles in my wake. He blames it on his weight and the length of his paddle. I, however, patiently tell him, “Your paddle is fine. It’s the way that you use it that counts.”

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Anyway, my grand dog Mica loves to go cruising on the lake with me. She is oddly at ease, sometimes she stands up, and sometimes she sits down, and then there are times she lays across the bow like the July playmate in a Playdog magazine. She trusts me. She believes  I will do my level best to keep us afloat, and so far we’ve done well. We are two different species cooperating for a successful experience.

The contemplative nature of steering across the lake has caused me to toss around the notion that the most troublesome of the world leaders should be required to paddleboard. It should happen on a remote lake in the middle of nowhere. They should be instructed to ride together and then switch up partners taking turns at being the paddler, and then being the passenger. It would be a good teambuilding experiment. It might instigate a sense of trust— no rocking the boat on purpose here. It would be an excellent time to remind them of the beauty of our planet, and how well an ecosystem survives when there is little to no manipulation from human kind. Maybe all leaders should heed the words of Mother Teresa,  If you want to change the world, go home and love your families. (love your people) Just imagine if everyone stopped throwing spitballs at each other, and went home to hug their family and pet the cat?

Out here on the lake, I see no imaginary lines determining countries or property. It looks to be open access for all. On the water, the voice of the wind speaks gently to the trees, and the willowing cry of the loons echoes in the dusky evening light. We see the fish leap and land with a splash causing circles to ripple outwards. The dragon flies glimmer and sparkle in the fading glow, as they dip and dive consuming mosquitos that would feed on our blood. Out here there is a sense of freedom, and a definite detachment from the over populated parts of the world. As we sweep along on the wrinkles of the lake there is no phone by our hand, and no call to be judged or judge. Our hearts are open and our minds are free.  Our particular section of the world is shaded in splendiferous colors and glows offers abundant hope for tomorrow.

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Mosquitos Suck

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The deadliest creature alive probably munched on you this past summer. This dastardly winged creature has been responsible for the death of up to 2.7 million people every year, far more than any weather-related fatalities. These blood-sucking demons are nature’s most efficient carriers of deadly viruses. They are responsible for transmitting Malaria, Dengue Fever, Yellow fever, Encephalitis, Chikungunya, West Nile, the Zika Virus, and even heartworms through their saliva. That, is quite the résumé,  little insect.

Perhaps, even more interesting is that only the females of the mosquito species suck blood from living creatures, the males only consume flower nectar.   And do you know why the females have an insatiable need for blood? It’s to enable their reproductive cycle to succeed, our liquid life is an essential ingredient to enable the creation of mosquito children. That’s right, the most irritating insects in the world uses the protein and iron pilfered from mammals to bring bouncing baby mosquito eggs to life.

These dastardly demons of the insect world would give you the chills if you saw them up close. How many nasty needle-like proboscises do you think the heinous little beast has to gorge on your blood? One? Two? Three? Nope. And the buzzard sounds— Six, in a single mosquito bite, six needle-like components enter your flesh. First, the two outer mandibles saw into your skin, then the second set holds the tissues apart as the hypopharynx drips saliva into the jagged opening. The saliva prevents the blood from clotting. Lastly, the labrum siphons up the crimson liquid by joining up with the hypopharynx to form a straw. Slurp, slurp, slurp. The female strives to fill her abdomen space up to the maximum capacity with red blood cells. To accomplish this,  while she is extracting the blood from the mammal, she is separating the water from the iron-rich beverage, and squeezing out the excess water in the form of pee. So not only is she stealing your blood, she’s taking a whiz on you at the same time. How horrid is that? Do you feel violated yet?

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Did you know that the word mosquito, is Spanish for little fly? Yet a mosquito is entirely different than a Spanish fly?  A Spanish fly was an aphrodisiac formulated by grinding up blister beetles, and when it was consumed, it was supposed to provoke extreme sexual arousal in men. Alas, a common side effect was death. So, I surmise from that tidbit of information that, a Spanish fly and a mosquito are actually quite similar in that they can both cause an unexpected demise.

Did you know a male mosquito lives for five to seven days? Yet the female can live up to a month. I find that fact oddly satisfying.

Now here’s an oddball but curious question. How many mosquitos would it take to drain an adult human of their blood? Amazingly enough, it would take approximately one million mosquitos to bleed you dry. However, that particular fact is irrelevant, because you would be dead before they finished with you. The human defence system would release such a massive amount of histamine into your body that you’d go into shock and die long before your veins were emptied. Histamine is a chemical that is released when foreign pathogens are detected in your body. The saliva from the female mosquito is what produces a histamine release, and then in turn, is what causes the insane itching at the bite site.

Let’s wrap it up with the most grisly question of all, how large does one mosquito need to be to bleed you dry? Although the answer can’t be proven, some scientists say, in theory  a mosquito should be the size of a large dog in order to have the ability to slush puppie you dry, but then again, once you take into account the monstrous size that the outer saw-like mandibles would become, it’ll be more like the magicians trick of a person being sawed in half without the revival. I think I’ll stick to the tiny blood-sucking mosquitoes I can smack.

Are you looking forward to winter yet?

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A world without mosquitos.

 

 

What You Do.

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We all begin at the same place, as wide-eyed innocent children, full of wonder, exploring our amazing and magical world. More often than not, it’s the people and the expectations from our culture around us that banishes the sparkle from our existence. We begin to give our attention to what everyone else wants for us as opposed to whatever we might desire. It happens through dogma and brainwashed beliefs. It’s taught to us when our sponge-like minds are ready to soak up knowledge like water from a sink; be normal, work hard, and don’t fool around. Society wants typical, well-behaved, tax paying citizens. Don’t listen. I dare you to ignore the propaganda of all news related feeds. If you want to read something worthwhile, read psychology books, so you can become familiar with human thought processes, and as a result you will find the clarity to live your own future.

I’m here to remind you that living within the constraints of society’s ‘normal’ is soul sucking. It leads you into the robot factory. Rise and shine, eat, have a big poop, go to work, eat, work, come home, eat, watch TV or play video games. Intermittently, you will shop and buy stuff you need; food, clothing, and toilet paper. Much of the time you purchase extra hogwash you don’t really want, or need. Usually, it’s because the television recommended the product, or a fashion magazine demanded you to buy it to remain en vogue.

Let me ask you, what did you do last night? Did you do anything that fed your inner spark that leads to feeling alive? Or did you simply zone out in front of the television while it brainwashed you into new purchases that will max out your credit card? Listen, I don’t want to be a nagging voice. I’m pretty sure you already have one of those. I simply want to say, you are potential incarnate. Don’t settle for where you are, or you will find yourself on autopilot sporting a vapid stare.

Let’s pause for a second my confidante, consider the fact that our bodies are simply blood and bone with some muscle and gristle thrown in for good measure. Consider also, that we are all on a continuous path to the compost heap. Looking at those facts, I have to wonder why we get stuck in the robot life? Why don’t we have some fun while we are here? As a matter of fact, why not have a whole heap of fun? We don’t need to be so serious about our lives. I seriously think we need to drop all the frowsy faces. As a matter of fact I’m going to insist. I’ve changed into a kickass desperado. I’m a brigand with a black balaclava on, fighting for fun. I pump  my 12 gauge shot-gun and fire it into the air to wipe away the vapid stares and frowns faces. “Listen up folks,” I shout. “I’m taking all your frowns. You figure out how to put a smile on your face without using money, because no one goes to the grave with all their stuff. The pyramids are closed for business.” A ray of light shines through the blast hole in the ceiling, dust drifts down like the sparkles from a diamond. I rip off my balaclava and stand in the glittering glow like a fairy godmother in the sunlight. “Tick tock, my friends, the compost heap is near. Decipher what brings enchantment into your life before the clock strikes twelve.”

One last bit of useful advice, ignore all your shoulds, coulds, and woulds that will undermine your ability to create your chosen life. You know what I speak of, I should do that. I would have done that. I could do that. Should, would and could are words that will hold you back because they attached to the energy of a big fat BUT. Speak no more buts, instead, ask yourself; what’s holding you back? Why are you hesitating? How can I make my dreams come true? Grab a hold of your desires today. Begin your plan today to manifest the best life you can imagine. Keep in mind however, that I am not condoning acts of self-mutilation or murder.

 

Be Warned, Be Damned

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This morning I learned my inversion table could cause my death.

Should I be fearful? Maybe my inversion table attire should include a hardhat, steel toe boots, and a brilliant orange safety vest with an iridescent yellow x on the back. When I viewed the warning label on my gismo, I couldn’t help but wonder, what sort of brainiac would neglect to fasten the leg straps when they have chosen to hang upside-down. In the past, the damaging result would been identified as natural selection. Or perhaps, a more rational reason for the warning label is, that the company must protect themselves from devious bastards. You all know who I’m alluding to, those individuals that ferret out the absence of warning labels, so they can purposely injure themselves, and sue the crapola out of a company.

In the future, I envision holograms popping up as informational warnings before using any allegedly dangerous items. I imagine myself stepping onto my inversion table. Suddenly, a hologram springs to life in the form of a safety officer wearing a sky blue uniform with a  brass badge pinned on her chest.  She’ll raise a threatening hand. “Stop right there,” she’ll say with all the enthusiasm of a cheerleader on nose whiskey. “Do you realize you could drop onto your head, and break your neck if you don’t fasten your ankle straps securely?” The first time Miss. Teehee Jollygasm appears, I can imagine being agreeable. “Absolutely,” I would say, “I’ m not an idiot, straps are always a good idea… unless you’re a school principal, or protesting sadomasochism.” But by the fourth ghostly visit, I’d tell the hologram to get stuffed, and by the tenth time of being commanded by an artificial presence, I would tear into the machine hunting for the newfangled forever internal battery, and rip out wires like a warthog foraging for roots.

Are we for real as a society? I’m seriously questioning the evolution of the human species. Please read for your amusement this short list of warnings and cautions on random items.

On a bag of peanuts — Warning: Contains peanuts, not suitable for nut and sesame allergy sufferers due to the methods used in the manufacturing of this product. I have no words.

Warning label for front load washing machines— During high-speed spins do not put any person in this washer. Interesting, is it okay on the gentle cycle? But wait, hold on here, super informative warning label, if you are stuffing a person into a washing machine, I tend to think your intentions are not aligned with the safety and welfare of others.

A warning label on a warning label—Read before using, read directions, cautions, and warnings carefully. If you do not understand, or cannot read all directions, cautions and warnings. Do not use this product. The idiocy is self-explanatory.

Safety rule for a drill—This product is not intended for use as a dental drill or medical appliance. Hmmm, I’ll be sure to let the mafia know.

Danger, do not feed or molest the alligators— Gators cannot be tamed, and feeding them can result in them mistaking a hand for a handout. The law prohibits the feeding or molesting of all alligators. Is it just me? Or am I the only one who wants to watch a person trying to molest an alligator.

Found on a hairdryer, Instructions for use— Do not use while sleeping. At first, I thought this was a ridiculous warning. However, after researching it, apparently, there is an addiction to sleeping with your hairdryer. Who knew? Blow me baby… Blow me.

A warning on matches—Caution, contents may catch fire. In a surprising turn of events, the matches were the best fire starter of the day.

An iron-on transfer for a t-shirt— Do not iron on while wearing the shirt. What event has transpired that has resulted in a need for this caution? Maybe the instigator of the warning looked down at his or her stark white T-shirt, and suddenly had a deep desire for a multicoloured design. Did the person pant breathlessly begging, “Must have color now… neeeed it. Dooo it! Just do it! I can’t wait.”

On a box of rat poison— Warning: has been found to cause cancer in laboratory mice. Cancer? You mean it didn’t kill the mice? Maybe the warning was meant to direct you away from touching the poison. Now, call me crazy, but if you’re like me,  I would surmise it’s never a good idea to touch poison with bare hands, but then again, there are those reckless humans out and about, probably the same ones that are trying to molest the alligators.

So gang, what do you think? Are people really neglecting to connect the dots, or are companies just covering their substantial buttocks from the possibility of being sued? I have noticed people are quite brilliant when it comes to technology, but when it comes down to survival, the warning signs are all over the place. Let’s face it, trial and error mentors genius, and experience is the best professor on the planet. I vote to remove the warning labels and let natural consequences prevail.