Human Nature Nuggets

How Our Seasons Affect Us, and Change in Our Lives

2012-01-06T08:36:00.000-08:00

It’s human nature that we’re affected by our seasonal changes. They basically can change not only our outlook on life, but the course of our lives. Sometimes our souls are rejuvenated; but they can also leave us drastically depressed. How we handle these changes is vital.

I had an article published in the Dec. 2011 issue of The Edge magazine (both online and in print), addressing this issue, and how I try to handle their affect on my life. The odds are that you’d agree with my sentiments. If you’d like to read it, entitled: “How Good is Change, Really?” and it’s at http://edgemagazine.net/2011/12/how-good-is-change-really/

The Edge is a holistic living magazine that seeks to inspire us to expand beyond our beliefs, reminds us to listen to the voice of our souls, and educates us on how to be well and in balance. It’s free, and can be found in the lobbies of some coffee shops, co-ops, libraries, etc. throughout the upper Midwest. There’s a list on their site of their distribution venues in various states on their website.

If there isn’t a drop-off near you, I urge you to ask the owners of specific business near you to sign up. The Edge’s website is at http://edgemagazine.net/ and their list of drop sites is at http://edgemagazine.net/magazine/drop-sites/ In many ways, their teachings can help us cope with how we’re affected by seasonal changes.

From my home to yours, Namaste'…

The Little Things in Life that Matter

2011-08-31T14:02:00.000-07:00

It's my human nature not only to help other people when possible, but also wildlife. Therefore, I was delighted today by a very unusual scene in a local department store. The security guard was concentrating on tearing something off a big chunk and tossing small pieces onto the floor! An employee was nearby too, but she was smiling at the customers and talking to them, seemingly unconcerned.

Then I noticed that the guard wasn’t tossing whatever it was just randomly--he had made a pattern! I followed the pattern from his feet outwards, and then I saw it: a full-grown pigeon, on the floor heading to one of the doors to the store, toddling along and pecking at the pieces of what had to be food. The guard was luring it to the open door!

As for the employee, she wasn’t just standing there being pleasant. She was quietly motioning to incoming and outgoing customers to look down so they’d see the pigeon, and then use a door further down. And it was working! I wanted to stay to watch how it ended but didn’t want to instigate a crowd, so I left. But I was so delighted, I had to tell everyone about it after I left. Sure, it was just a little thing, but boy did it matter to me!

Why Smoking While Driving Shouldn’t Become Illegal in Minnesota

2007-06-13T06:43:00.000-07:00

Lately there have been several proposals to make it illegal for anyone to smoke while driving a motorized vehicle in my state. The justification is that when people smoke while driving, they take their eyes off the road to light a cigarette, put one out, or use the ashtray. Admittedly, any of the above actions are a distraction, but many smokers have taught themselves to perform these tasks without looking away.

What concerns me is that merely targeting those who smoke while driving is being shortsighted. What about all the drivers who sip while they’re driving? Whether it involves knocking back a swig of water from a bottle, pop from a can, or revolving a tall cup to find the little hole in order to guzzle coffee, don’t these actions require taking one’s eyes off the road, too?

Some drivers munch on a burger, or even open a packet of ketchup and pour it on their fries while they’re operating a vehicle, and have you ever seen anyone put on lipstick without looking in their rearview mirror? Almost everyone leans over to find a button on the radio. Isn’t that just as distracting? Then there’s looking away to find the wiper blades, watching the electric window to see how far you’ve lowered it, jotting a note on a notepad, or trying to find directions on a map, and I needn’t mention the use of cell phones.

Face it, we’ve become a multi-tasking society, and we’re twitchy. It’s become our human nature not just to drive, but to accomplish some unrelated task at the same time. By doing so, we feel we are saving time, or using our time judiciously.

I know we drivers are supposed to keep our hands on the steering wheel in the 10 and 2 o’clock positions, but I’ve learned to be wary of drivers who steadfastly clutch the wheel with both hands. Usually they’re the ones who are so under the influence, they have to in order to control their cars, or they’re so leery of being in traffic, they drive 20 miles an hour—even on the freeway.

I guess the only way we’re going to make drivers keep their hands on the wheel at all times is to affix Velcro straps on the steering wheel and make it a law that these straps must be wrapped around our wrists whenever we’re driving. Auto makers will have to install a device that will stop our cars from running if we’re not wearing them. As for our straying eyes, well…

Before we single out those who smoke while driving, and make them a scapegoat, we must peer deep within ourselves, at our own driving habits. It’s so easy to judge others and ignore our own human nature.

Humans vs. Nature in the city of St. Paul

2007-03-13T11:14:00.000-07:00

About a month ago, my husband and I were driving along a quiet residential street in the middle of the city, just a block west of busy Snelling Ave., when we saw a small hawk on the ground, in the middle of the street, grasping a starling in its talons. As our car drew closer, the hawk took off and accidentally dropped the starling. We were sure the starling was dead, but to our amazement it seemed to gather its wits, then also flew away.

I was thrilled that we had saved the smaller bird's life, but my husband pointed out that by doing so, we had stolen what could have been a vital meal for the hawk. (It was frigid outside then.) And besides, he added, it was only a starling.

Now I'm in a quandary. Obviously I want hawks to survive. I'm thrilled whenever I see any raptor, and find it even more incredible when I see one in such a populated area, let alone so close to home. Yet I love the cheerful babble of starlings, despite their reputation. And mainly, they're both living beings.

So should I instead have been rooting for the hawk? I know we interrupted nature from taking its course, but I'd have been devastated if we had run over either of them. That’s my human nature.

Then again, if I'd been watching this in the wild on the Discovery Channel, instead of on the city cement right in front of me, it's possible I would have reacted differently. So apparently it was the location that elicited my reaction.

Now my brain is still in a turmoil. Please, could I get some feedback from you?

Is the Grass Truly Greener On the Other Side?

2006-07-13T17:27:00.000-07:00

It's usually stressful where I work. My co-workers and I generally have to rush through each of our jobs to finish them as quickly as possible, or within a limited time frame, because following them there will be another job that has to be done just as quickly. We seldom talk to each other, because that could detract from our concentration, or slow us down.

Directly across the street from us is a cozy little coffee shop. During business hours (not necessarily during lunch time), I can see the customers inside—relaxed, chatting, sipping their brew and enjoying life—and I’m envious, wishing I could be among them.

Then reality hits: Maybe those people would rather be where I am. Maybe they’ve been laid off and can’t find work elsewhere. Maybe they’re not physically fit enough to hold a job, or mentally capable. Maybe they have a job but have to work nights or weekends.

Even if they do have a job, maybe they don’t like what they’re doing (I do!), or there’s no challenge or personal satisfaction.

And then there’s the owner of the coffee shop. Is he watching our constant bustle of activity, our customers flowing in and out, our delivery truck being loaded with completed jobs? Is he looking at us with envy?

Bearing this in mind, I know I’m fortunate to be on my side, for the grass is green. Yet deep down, even when things aren’t so hectic here, I sometimes can’t help wishing I could be laughing and chatting in that coffee shop with the other customers, even if it may be a façade.

I wonder… is this an inevitable part of everyone’s human nature, or mostly mine?

A Tale for the Birds

2006-06-19T18:59:00.000-07:00

One of my favorite pastimes this time of year is going into my front and back yards and immersing myself in the sounds, sights and scents of nature; not only watching my plants grow, but thrilling over the wildlife that, while passing over, lights down and uses my yards as a resting place, knowing it’s a safe and fulfilling haven. Our city lot isn’t big, but it’s more than enough for them.

The problem is, I haven’t been able to go into my back yard as freely as usual lately. I have to look out the windows first, because I hang my various bird feeders there, and now it's become a nursery for the birds! All sorts of parents are feeding their fledglings there, and I don’t want to scare them away.

Sometimes I’ll see a little Downy Woodpecker feeding its baby Downy on my suet holder. The parent will take a nip of suet, then stuff it into the wide open mouth of its child, which is clinging onto the holder at the same time.

Other times I’ll see two Common Grackles on my mixed seed feeder, both the exact same size, but while one will have the characteristic iridescent feathers, the other will be all dusky, and it will keep opening its beak wide, while squawking and flapping its wings. Then the glossy one will nab a seed and stuff it into the wing-flapping one's mouth. I've also seen Cardinals feeding their babies there.

Recently, I put cooked macaroni and cheese on the ground because I know Robins love it. Sure enough, I saw a parent Robin grab a piece and shove it into its baby's open beak. Again, the baby was the same size, but it hadn't gotten its orange breast feathers yet.

And then there are the House Finches and Chickadees feeding their babies at my safflower seed feeder. Who knows what I’ll see next?

Talk about having a piece of heaven... My garden has become a haven for butterflies, dragonflies and other wildlife, and rising above the flowers are my bird feeders. And now I'm watching the next generation of birds that will soon be feeding there on their own.

Anyone who doesn't dig in the dirt or just pull weeds doesn't know what they're missing. The best stress-relieving balm in the world is right at our feet...and a bit above us, if we also feed the birds.

I’m inviting you to go to my brand new article that describes how you, too, can attract birds to your yard. It includes which seeds attract which birds and which only feed on the ground, which birds love suet, what hummingbirds and orioles revel over, some birds that only eat insects, other ways you can attract birds, and more. http://www.voices.yahoo.com/how-attract-birds-st-paul-39936.html?cat=32

Also, if you’d like some information about attracting butterflies, I have an article at http://www.voices.yahoo.com/how-attract-butterflies-city-37562.htmi?cat=32

If you read them and like what I’ve written, I’d so appreciate it if you’d rate them at the top by clicking on one of the options from 1-5. (But for sure, please don’t click on either the “thumbs up” OR “thumbs down” at the bottom by the comments, because either way actually deletes points from my overall rating.)

Meanwhile, from my home and heart to yours, I’m truly wishing you the joy and serenity I’ve found through my yard.

To quote Henry David Thoreau, “I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately; to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived.”

The Need to Feel Needed

2006-05-09T19:20:00.000-07:00

Babies need to have a parent laugh and clap at their antics. School-aged children need to have a parent praise their accomplishments, and feel dejected if that parent doesn’t attend when they have a chance to display their talent to the public. After their children leave home, parents need to learn to readjust their lives.

A wife-to-be needs her father, or someone who truly cares, to accompany her down the aisle. When a couple gets their first child, they want their parents to be proud of them. In turn, their parents need both their childrens’ love and praise, and their own parents’ love and praise.

As we grow older, knowing that you’re loved, or that someone cares about you, isn’t necessarily enough, and that need to feel needed—and appreciated for what you do—increases. After he retired, my father-in-law routinely set the table for the breakfast he and his wife would be eating the next day—on the night before. I once asked him, “Why don’t you wait until tomorrow to do that?” He looked at me sadly and replied, “What else is there to do?” Somehow, I knew he was implying that doing this simple act made him feel needed.

Sometimes close friends can fill the gap, or grandchildren, or an adored pet; perhaps a good job or volunteer work. But not always. When my grandmother was lying in a hospice with terminal cancer, perfectly lucid and understanding her condition, she asked me why she couldn’t just join her husband, who had passed on several years earlier. She added, “Nobody needs me anymore.”
Indeed, the need to feel needed could be one of the most driving forces in human nature. I think in some way we bloggers have our own version of that need. To fulfill it, we reach out to others, knowing they will grasp our hands. We may not truly “need” each other, but life sure wouldn’t be the same without that rapport.

NOTE: My friend Christine has a Health Blog where she’s dedicated to helping others, and she invites you, with open arms and personal experience, to come visit her to share your concerns at Christine’s Health Blog.

And please, if you have the time, go visit our fellow blogger Zareba, a woman truly full of soul, over at Journey Into Being. She’s in the hospital recovering—her heart and lungs had shut down in mid-April, and now there’s a new post on her site.

Also, I’d like to re-introduce Vonnie, who has revived her blog Bird Watching in South Florida, and started a new one, Reflections of a Boomer Babe, that women in particular should enjoy.

I’m not sure about you, but you—my blogger friends—have fulfilled my life. All my sincere best wishes, Darlene

Is it Foolhardy to Tenaciously Try to Reach a Goal?

2006-04-18T18:05:00.000-07:00

I was digging an 8-inch hole in my yard the other day, so I could plant a new climbing vine, when one of those big, black beetles crawled up. I don’t know what kind they are, but I often see them tipped upside-down on the sidewalk, legs waving madly, as they try to upend themselves. Usually I take a stick and gently try to turn them right-side up, not because I like them (ugh!), but because I feel sorry for them. I do get them on their feet, but as soon as I move the stick, they flop over again. Then I have to gently push them into the grass—but even there they’re quite ungainly.

This beetle was getting too close to where I was digging, so I shoved it away. It came back. I lifted it up on the end of my scooper and placed it by some leaves further away. Then I went inside to get some water. When I returned, I didn’t see it, so I dug some more. Then I stuck a ruler in the hole to see if I had dug deep enough, peeked in, and lo and behold, there was my beetle, at the very bottom!

Reaching in with my digger, I gently tried to scoop up the beetle—no luck. I got it on the tip of the digger and painstakingly edged it up while rubbing the tip against the side of the hole, and the beetle helped by trying to scramble up. Success! I got the beetle out; again put it aside. The beetle chugged away, so I resumed digging. No sooner did I look away than, sure enough, it was back in the hole, on the very bottom. I did the same thing over again, but this time I put the beetle on the other side of the yard. Then, admittedly a bit paranoid, I kept glancing up to make sure it wasn’t trying to return.

What I can’t understand is the tenaciousness of that beetle. Why did it keep coming back to where I was digging? And after I got it out of the hole the first time, it had to have seen my digger going in and out, so why did it go inside?

In some ways, the roots of plants are just as tenaciously foolhardy. They grow freely, blindly groping their way through the soil and sending out offshoots, until they come up against a barrier and have no more room to spread. But they keep trying, until they entangle each other so thoroughly, they and the plant they’re attached to die.

I sometimes wonder if mankind is just as foolish, although we’ve learned from experience that persistence can pay off. We can, at times, if we try hard enough, overcome the barriers we hit and reach our goals, but we also usually realize when being tenacious can be foolhardy. Perhaps it’s a matter of human nature vs. instinct.

Any thoughts?

Preoccupation, Rudeness, or Just Don’t Care?/LIFE IS PRECIOUS!

2006-04-02T11:24:00.000-07:00

The temperature is frigid, with a plummeting wind chill factor. Outside the grocery store, many shoppers are abandoning their grocery carts in the middle of the lot, instead of putting them in the outdoor storage racks. A store employee is forced to brave the cold and forge throughout the lot so he can gather all the stray carts, line them up, and push them back to the store. The moment his back is turned—his fingers numb and face red from the chill—more shoppers are leaving their carts strewn all around.

Someone is roaring along the freeway in a car with a loose muffler; it’s actually bouncing up and down. One thunk and the muffler could drop off—not necessarily a danger to the driver, but what about the cars going at 55 mph and faster right behind and alongside him?

We order food from a cashier, a waitress, anyone whose job is to “serve” us so they can make a living. We regard them as a fixture instead of another human being. In a stern voice, we demandingly say “give me” or “I need” so-and-so, without even a smile, instead of saying, “I’d like” or “could I have.”

LIFE IS PRECIOUS; the only one we’ll ever have, at least in this form, unless you’re one of those who believe in reincarnation, which I don’t. Perhaps I’m a cynicist, but I’ve lost far too many people, and pets, throughout my lifetime that I loved or cared about. I’ve had mind-boggling dreams in which I’ve reconnected with them, in some cases even found absolution, but their presence during my waking hours is definitely gone.

My point is that we should treasure the life we have on earth now, and the lives of those we care about, instead of taking them for granted. For me, this means we should at least say goodbye every time someone we care about leaves our home. This means, if you see someone and like how they look, whether it be their hair, the clothes they're wearing, or whatever, don’t be too shy to tell them, whether it’s a loved one or friend—or even if that person is a stranger you’re passing on the street. (Besides, it’ll make both of you feel good.) If you’re at a restaurant and like how attentive certain waitresses are, tell them. If you appreciate a fellow blogger for whatever reason, tell them. And for others in general--especially those who are worthy--follow the Golden Rule and “do unto others as you would have them do unto you.” Life is truly short, and nobody is invulnerable.

Never Enough Time to Do What We Want To Do

2006-03-14T21:33:00.000-08:00

My adrenaline is surging full-force, and it mainly got heightened because I just received an e-mail from one of my dear blogger friends. I want to answer her immediately, but now I have a dilemma. I’m in the middle of a cooking binge, determined to get everything done tonight.

You see, on the way home from work I found a super deal on a corned beef brisket. My husband doesn’t like corned beef, but when our daughter was growing up, I occasionally bought some and made it so she and I could have it for snacks. We both preferred it cold, and had fun using my method of tearing off strips and eating them. When she got older, she only wanted healthier foods, so I stopped making it. Now that my husband and I are alone, I forgot all about it. So when I saw it today, I started salivating in glee. I figured I’d pop the brisket into the oven as soon as I got home, so I could have some for lunch tomorrow at work.

Besides that, I had bought a couple pounds of lean hamburger, figuring that tonight I’d also make meatloaf for our dinner for the following night. Then it would just have to be reheated. My husband and I both love it, but pretty soon the weather will be too warm to use the oven too much. (I use my mother-in-law’s recipe, but make a few tweaks. For one thing, I mix in some whole ground flaxseed, and barbecue sauce instead of ketchup.)

So I get home, anxious to unload my groceries, and—oops, interrupted by tonight’s dinner. Besides making a salad, my husband had heated up my soup and corn-flake coated chicken leftovers from last night, so I couldn’t use the oven until we first ate the salad, then the soup, and finally the chicken could leave the oven.

Mid-swallow of chicken, I prepped the corned beef and popped it into the oven, which thankfully was preheated due to the chicken. Hmmm…2.79 lbs., to be baked for 50 minutes per pound. Soon it was 7 p.m., time for NCIS on the T.V., and I love that show. I could watch it while the corned beef baked. Then my husband enticed me into baking the last of some chocolate-chip cookie dough, so I shaped the cookies, took the meat out, and put the cookie sheet in. When they were done, we watched NCIS together, something he never watches, while munching on cookies with milk.

When the show was over and the beef was still baking, I started making the meat loaf. Mid-mixing, I caught our cat merrily pawing away at the recipe clippings in the cabinet where I keep my baking pans. Also, the floor was strewn with Campbell’s soup can labels. I keep those in the cabinet too, until I have a big batch to bring to my daughter’s former grade school. I had forgotten to shut the door.

At this point my husband was watching a Minnesota Wild hockey game on the T.V., and they were playing the “chicken” song. I really wanted to dance along with it, and swear I could have. My husband would have even joined me. But the doctor had said “no exercising until your broken rib heals.” I assumed parading around doing the chicken dance would be considered exercise, so I had to forego that.

Since my husband loves potatoes or rice with his meat, I wanted to make my “to-die-for” potato dish with rubbed sage and cheddar cheese, too. (It’s high in calories, so I don’t make it often, but it’s super nummy! If you’d like the recipe, e-mail me at naturedar@hotmail.com.) I did plan to get to bed at some point, since I’ve been working between 9 ½ to 10 hours every day lately, and I have to get up at 6:15, but there were miles to go before I could sleep. Besides, I still wanted to work on an article I’m getting ready to submit, so I did that for a bit, then peeled the potatoes, then wrote some more, then mixed the other ingredients. Finally the corned beef was cooked, and I replaced that with the potatoes. So as it nears 11 p.m., I’m writing this.

Problem is, I still have to write a letter to a relative, and I haven’t been able to answer my friend’s e-mail and so want to. But also, my cat is running around in circles and meowing, because I’ve ignored him all night, other than when he sat on my lap during NCIS. He wants to play hide-and-seek…

There, we did it! Gotta admit it got the old rib aching, especially when he chased me up the stairs and I chased him back down, but it was worth it. Now my eyes are getting blurry—it’s after 11, but the darned potatoes aren’t done! Can I get an e-mail out? Then I can write the letter tomorrow morning before work.

Yeah, I’m the old-fashioned kind that likes to make her husband happy with a good meal. But I like to make myself happy with a good meal, too. If I left it up to him, he’d open a can of soup and make a salad, and that’s what we’d eat. When I get home from work, I’m famished, and I want something I can sink my teeth into!

Mind you, I don’t have to do any of this. These are all things I truly desire to do (at times). How does that old song go? “I am strong, I’m invincible, I am woman!” I can do anything—but I sure wish I had more time to do it.

What It’s Like When You Break a Rib

2006-03-07T04:54:00.000-08:00

I now know firsthand what it’s like if you break one of your ribs. Also, whether your rib is broken or cracked, it’s the same thing. One side of what should be a continuous bone is completely separated from the other side, with a gap in between. In my case, said parted bone is in back of me on my left side. (Please read all of this, because there’s a purpose!)

We’ve all seen on T.V. and in the movies how the male hero has a broken rib, is lying on a bed and cuddles up with his girl. White teeth flashing, he’ll gallantly smile and tell her he has to take it easy, and then he’ll pull her closer. Well, let me tell you, that ain’t easy! First of all, you have to ease your body down onto the bed, then ease it under the sheets, and then ease it into a comfortable position. Once there, if you want to change positions, that becomes a matter of trial and error.

One false move and the two halves of bone shift, a shot of pain surges through that area, you make an involuntary gasp and have to try and catch your breath. But once that pain eases, you’re fine.

You soon learn a method for maneuvering your body. If the break is on your left side, don’t reach for things with your left hand. (Note to self: Tomorrow, when you bend down to get the newspaper, remember to reach for it with your right hand, dummy! You know mornings are the worst!) Don’t open or close any doors with your left hand either. Getting dressed and undressed takes a bit of patience, and you’ll have to work on the best way to get in and out of a car. For sure, the body fares much better if you sit upright instead of reclining on a couch.

Performing normal bodily functions is another obstacle to surmount. I can’t sneeze, blow my nose, clear my throat, take a deep breath, laugh normally or do anything that’s going to make my lungs expand, but if I can do these things gently, all I’ll feel is a twinge.

Other than that, I can cook, bake, type, almost anything I normally would do, as long as I’m careful how I position myself. (This really increases one’s self-awareness!) The only thing the doctor forbids is doing any exercises. But I know I’m healing quickly, because each day my mobility and lack of pain increases, and I’m doing things I couldn’t do before. (It’s just trying to change positions in bed that’s a real killer.)

It happened Wed., March 1, when I was in the attic trying to reach an overnight bag because we were going out of town. There was no way to get to the bag, so I straddled my legs above the top of each side of the attic stairs, and using a mop handle, hooked the handle of the bag and pulled it towards me. I’ve done this before, but this time I was only wearing socks. One foot slipped, and when I went down, I slammed my back against the abutment I had been standing on. I went to the clinic several days later, when we returned home.

At this point I must apologize for not having written anything here for so long, but my mother had been admitted to a hospital several weeks ago, and every day had become an extreme up and down for her. I was getting and making a slew of long distance calls daily, both at home and at work, also because the doctors urged that I make arrangements for her funeral. They knew it was inevitable, and eventually it happened.

All the people who advised and supported me were wonderful, as was everyone who helped my mother to the end. As for the eulogy and service, they were beautiful—a true dedication to her. Through my blogging, I have made some dear new friends, and I cherish that relationship. Therefore, it feels only befitting that I draw on their gift of friendship to dedicate this post to my mother, Florence, May 28, 1916-Feb. 27, 2006.

Dolphins: Therapy for People with Disabilities and Injuries, Depression, and Human Fetuses in the Womb

2006-02-16T18:28:00.000-08:00

If you’re at all interested in the many amazing ways dolphins are providing therapy for humans with a variety of disabilities or suffering from depression, or how they're talking to human fetuses in the womb, I think you’d be interested in reading this. (Dolphins Even Detect Underwater Mines for the U.S. Navy!)

If you’re planning on having guests over and want to serve uncommon snacks, hors d’oeuvres or appetizers that look classy but are fairly simple to make, I urge you to look here.

There’s also a dedication to Black History Month here.

These are just some samples of the online articles I’ve recently written for Associated Content, and I’d be so appreciative if you’d check them out. Or, if you’d like to see an index of my other articles that they’ve published, you can go to my Content Producer page to read them. Besides wanting to share all the new information I’ve learned, Associated Content itself suggests we promote our articles in this way, because they want people to read the articles they publish as a resource for information.

(If you don’t find anything on my content page of interest now, I’ll be putting a link to it in my sidebar on Human Nature Nuggets, so you can check there regularly, since I’ll always be submitting new articles.)

Associated Content is an online “information exchange,” and their goal is to build a text, audio, video and image resource library. If you’re a writer or are interested in trying your hand in writing online articles, I urge you to try writing for them. Associated Content’s home page is at http://www.associatedcontent.com . If you do try, it would also help me if you told them that I, Darlene from St. Paul, recommended them to you.

Admittedly the research and writing can be time-consuming, but for me it’s so gratifying, because I’m doing what I love best, and we content writers do get paid. Also, it’s thrilling knowing that when someone types the right key words in a Google or other search engine, one of my articles will likely come up. (My “Income Tax Preparers in St. Paul” article, for example, comes up second from the top, and “Coffee Cafes in St. Paul” comes up first!)

I’ve made several submissions that will soon be published, and I’ve got lots of ideas in mind for future articles, if I can ever find the time to work on them, besides the suggestions AC makes for us content writers. But if you ever have some topic you’d like me to cover, please feel free to e-mail me with your suggestion.

Meanwhile, I must apologize for not writing a post on Human Nature Nuggets for so long, and for not visiting your sites. Honestly, it had nothing to do with writing for Associated Content! We were having a big party at our house about the same time our daughter was leaving to go back to Peru, so I was overwhelmed with tons of housecleaning, laundry and sewing, besides other obligations, all at the same time. But things are finally settling down, and I’ve missed you so much!

Oops!

2006-02-01T20:56:00.000-08:00

In my last post, January 29, on invasive species, I referred to a post by Maureen on her site, A View from England, but I accidentally said she had entered it on July 23... I meant January 23! Sorry Maureen, I must apologize, and to anyone else, if I threw you off. That's what happens when I try to burn the candle at each end. (Hopefully that's the reason for the error, because sometimes I think it's in my human nature to mess up! I do it way too often.)

Invasive Species: Birds, Plants, Insects, Animals, and Mankind

2006-01-29T13:29:00.000-08:00

On July 23, Maureen, over at A View from England, made an entry entitled “Grey Squirrels vs. Red Squirrels.” Using the BBC News as her source, she explained how “a massive cull of grey squirrels is to take place across England to try to halt declining numbers of the endangered native red population.”

To quote Maureen, “Yes, here in the U.K. we have red squirrels as well as the American grey squirrels. The grey squirrels were introduced to this country from America between 1876 and 1929, and they are thriving, while the red squirrel population is declining. Consequently, the grey squirrel is considered a huge pest in this country because of the damage to trees and woodland it has caused and by squeezing out red squirrels. The government's planned cull of the grey squirrels will be carried out by woodland and wildlife managers.”

This got me to thinking. More and more we hear about various species of birds, animals, plants and insects that were introduced from one country into another and eventually became pests in that new country, driving out the native species and overtaking their habitat. Also, the “newcomers” eventually changed from being the minority into the majority of dwellers in that habitat.

Starlings, as an example, were introduced into the U.S. from Europe, and because they thrived, are now considered a threat to our songbirds. On a different scale, look what happens when wildlife, such as deer, moves from the country into our suburbs’, and even cities’ back yards.

Also, consider what has happened with our native ladybugs, those shiny red insects with black spots (also called lady birds and lady beetles), that gardeners have coveted because the larvae and adults eat garden pests such as aphids, mealybugs and mites. The “Asian” ladybug was introduced to "naturally" destroy the tiny soybean aphids that were destroying soybean crops in the U.S. and Canada. Some accounts say that in the early 1980’s, the U.S. Department of Agriculture experimented with the insect in the southeast U.S., trying to establish it as a predator against aphids and other soft-bodied pests of pecan trees, a valuable nut crop. In 2000, the soybean aphid, an exotic aphid from China, was discovered feeding on soybean plants. In 2001, the multi-colored Asian lady beetle fed heavily on the soybean aphids and likely saved Michigan soybean farmers millions of dollars in harvest revenues and insecticides that didn't have to be used to control losses to this aphid species.

Yet these orange, imported ladybugs have thrived and proliferated to such an extent, they not only are driving out our more passive native species, but they have become invasive pests that pile up in our windowsills, and bite us and our pets.

So which is more important to us—the benefits we are reaping as a result of these foreign species—or our comfort?

Perhaps the most vivid example of a species being “introduced” into another nation or country is mankind. All around the world throughout history, we humans have overcome natives of the lands we’ve invaded, introduced foreign species into “our” lands, and made like species into slaves, yet in most cases we also accept those from other countries who want to move into our own, and many have thrived to create inventions and technology that has made our lives easier. And what would life be like if we in the U.S. hadn’t been able to come to America in the first place? I wonder, no matter whether it’s man, insect, plant or animal, does the bottom line somehow become a matter of control?

Sunset Over Lake Titicaca

2006-01-21T14:30:00.000-08:00

According to ancient Incan mythology, Lake Titicaca is the birthplace of all humanity and where its creator, the great god Viracocha, first appeared on earth.

This picture was taken by my daughter from a peak atop Isla Del Sol, believed to be the birthplace of the sun.

Mythology says the sun sent his son, Manco Cápac, and the moon sent her daughter, Mamo Ocllo, to surface from the lake and create the Inca Empire.

The Birthing Tale of a Wedding Ring

2006-01-16T06:23:00.000-08:00

Here’s an interesting case to ponder: When my husband (of how many years I won’t reveal—suffice it to say, it was quite awhile ago) proposed to me (yes, romantically, on bent knee), he presented me with a delicate, curved white-gold ring, inset with three tiny diamonds. This ring was only half of the actual wedding ring. When we were married, the other half was attached, and that part had a larger diamond which, when connected with the engagement segment, became surrounded by the three small diamonds.

Some people only wear their diamond rings on special occasions, because they’re worried a diamond could be lost. Others keep theirs tucked away in safes and only wear them on special occasions, because their diamonds are so monetarily valuable. Although any diamond ring is costly, mine isn’t all that expensive. Rather, it is invaluable to me for the memories it holds, and what it signifies, including the bond made between me and the man I wanted to share my life with, and vice-versa. Therefore I never remove that ring from my finger.

Of course there have been instances where I’ve absolutely had to. A couple times throughout the years I had the ring polished. In fact, over a decade ago I lost the large diamond during the time I was working at my favorite job—as a reporter. We had to have it replaced. Then, I’m guessing it was eight years later, my boss died and the paper was closing. I was going through my file cabinet, and in between my papers was the original diamond! My husband had it set in a bracelet and gave it to me as a Mother’s Day or birthday present; can’t remember which.

Well, over a week ago I glanced at my hand, and the large diamond was missing! I can’t find it anywhere. I kept wearing the ring, while waiting to find out what the deductible will be if our insurance will cover it. But meanwhile, the empty prongs were tearing the skin on my fingers on each side of it. I had to take it off.

I couldn’t. For some “strange” reason, my knuckle had grown and the ring wouldn’t slide over it. I tried lotioning up my finger; that didn’t work. The ripping of skin continued.

Eventually, I had to get it off! My husband suggested using Vaseline, so after soaking my hand in cold water, I swathed the finger with it. Then I pulled, and twisted, and turned the ring, watching the portion of finger in front of the ring turn red, then blue.

“Come on, you can do it. Turn it like a screw,” my husband urged. I looked at him in agony and kept at it.

“You don’t have that much further to go,” he coached. I looked closer; he was right. The ring was nearly at the top of my knuckle. Bearing down, I twisted and pulled and turned it some more.

“You’re almost there. Keep pushing!” he cried. Screwing up my face in pain, I persisted, refusing to push the ring back to home base and give up. Finally the ring was on top of my knuckle, but the skin in front of it was bunched up. I tried mashing it down while still turning. The agony grew but I refused to stop. Then I pushed it, kept trying to force it over the obstacle, and voila—the ring slid off! I ran to my husband and hugged him in joy.

I honestly think birthing my daughter was easier than removing that ring!

I’m not sure if the will, the sheer persistence and stubbornness, to fight against pain is normally in my human nature. There were so many times I wanted to give up. But the goal I was reaching was the impetus. My ring will probably have to be cut so it can be made bigger, but I couldn’t bear having it cut off my finger. It means too much to me.

RFID Tags—Big Brother is Getting Under Our Skin and Growing

2006-01-05T17:40:00.000-08:00

Imagine you’re a small business owner, and the police have called to say a first-time offender has broken into your store. At this moment, he’s pilfering your goods. They’re still on their way there, yet they already know he has taken $50 from your cash register. There are no witnesses, yet they know the looter has blue eyes, a moustache and short blonde hair. They even know his name, weight, and where he lives and works.

Obviously there’s peace of mind knowing the criminal will be apprehended. But since you haven’t installed any cameras or even an alarm, and there aren’t any witnesses, how did the police know he was there? If this is his first offense, he isn’t on release from prison and wearing a bracelet. Also, how do they know he’s taken $50, or anything about him?

Welcome, not to the Twilight Zone or George Orwell’s fabricated society, but to the real world, where Radio Frequency Identification (RFID) is threatening to obliterate the last vestiges of privacy in our lives.

In the January 2006 issue of National Geographic Magazine, there’s an article entitled “Who Knew?” written by Joel Achenbach, a Washington Post staff writer. To best explain RFID, he uses the premise that you’re alone at a party and want some romance, but don’t know anyone there or anything about them. “You’ve got a gizmo that beams energy at microchips in everyone’s name tag,” Achenbach writes. “The chips beam back name, occupation, hobbies, obsessions, phobias…” This, in essence, is how RFID works.

“An RFID tag with a microchip can be embedded in a product, under your pet’s skin, even under your own skin,” Achenbach continues. “Passive RFID tags have a tiny antenna, but no internal energy source—batteries are not included because they’re not needed. The energy comes from the reader, a scanning device that sends a pulse of electromagnetic energy that briefly activates the tag.

“Unlike traditional bar code label, a tag carries information specific to that object, and the data can be updated.” At this point I envision a slew of live human bodies being dragged like a sack of potatoes across a grocery store scanner. The feeling of invasion increases when Achenbach goes on to say, “Already, RFID technology is used by highway toll plazas, libraries, retailers tracking inventory, and it might appear in your passport.

“Doctors can implant a silicon chip under the skin that will help locate and retrieve a patient’s medical records. Coroners are using the chips to keep track of Hurricane Katrina victims. At a nightclub in Barcelona—and at its counterpart in Rotterdam —the same implant gets you into the VIP lounge and pays for a cocktail with the wave of an arm.”

True, there are so many humane ways in which this new electromagnetic energy technology can be beneficial. So perhaps I’m being overly paranoid, but I find it alarming that every bit of our personal identity can be included in those chips. Our entire lives will become vulnerable to anyone who learns how to scan, download and take advantage of the information stored there. As is, computer hackers keep finding new ways to break into online accounts. Eventually, hackers will also be able to crack into the data on our chips. Do the benefits of RFID technology outweigh what could happen to us due to misuse? Then again, how we feel about it probably doesn’t matter, because the invasion has begun and is growing, and we can’t do anything to stop it.

My Salutations at This Time of Year

2005-12-22T05:18:00.000-08:00

To all of you out there:

Whether you are celebrating Hanukkah, Christmas, Kwanza, some other holiday I’m not aware of, or you don’t celebrate holidays at all,

Whether you’re Jewish, Christian, Islamic, follow Buddhism, another religion, or are an agnostic or whatever,

No matter your race or religion; as long as you’re not a terrorist, or someone who wants to maim or kill others because of their beliefs, or out of sheer maliciousness or greed, or a warped mind,

As long as you’re a human being who truly cares about others because of the goodness in your heart,

Whether you regard this as a wish, a blessing, or just a warmth-filled greeting from one human being who cares about others, to another human being who feels—and acts—the same,

In the spirit of the season, I extend my heart-filled best to all of you. Hoping your days are healthy, happy, safe and fulfilling!

To What Extent Are We Truly Able to Forgive?

2005-12-14T12:37:00.000-08:00

Most of us consider ourselves forgiving people; above holding a grudge, let alone seeking revenge. But what if someone killed your spouse or child, or a parent or close friend? Would you then be able to forgive that person? As easy as it is to say for us to say whether we would or would not now, we can never truly know until it happens, and may we never be put to the test.

I ran across an article entitled “The Courage to Act,” written by Mike Billington, the editor of the Dodge Nature Center’s The Nature of Things publication, in their Winter/Spring edition. Besides being editor of the publication, Mike is a photographer and naturalist at the Dodge Nature Center http://www.dodgenaturecenter.org/default.asp in St. Paul, MN. The article affected me so much, I had to share it with you.

In “The Courage to Act,” Mike explained how years ago, when his “homestay mother” Violet and her three youngest sons were returning home from a Christmas parade, she decided to walk home and do some errands on the way. They were crossing the street in late afternoon, when a car failed to turn at the bend of the road. It crossed over two lanes of traffic and struck her and one of her sons. Somehow, she had managed to push the other two out of the way. The one who was struck only received minor injuries, but Violet passed away several hours later at the hospital.

Mike and Violet’s family later learned that the driver was an illegal immigrant driving without a license, spoke little to no English, and should never have been driving. Apparently eyewitnesses at the scene had stopped him from fleeing. According to Mike, the man was taken in by the police, and later faced criminal charges and deportation. At the time, that was the last Mike thought about him.

Then, several months ago when he returned to Minnesota, Mike received a national News Zealand newspaper clipping in the mail. The clipping had a picture of what remained of his “homestay family”—his homestay father Tracy, and the three sons. The article itself reported how Tracy had stood up before the judge and asked for clemency for the man who was responsible for the death of his wife, Violet.

To quote Mike: “In the months after Violet’s death, Tracy had heard that the family of the man driving the car had been devastated, and that their son had been riddled with guilt and depression. He realized that two lives had been lost that day—two families had been shattered. Through the pain and suffering from grieving for his wife, Tracy decided that for there to be justice, there must be understanding between their two cultures and that he must take the time to hear the man’s story.” Tracy met the man face to face.

In his article, Mike wrote, “The man’s name was Tomasi Tabokaai, a twenty-six year old from the Polynesian island of Kiribati, just north of Fiji in the South Pacific. The night before the accident he had been up late at a family function. Since he was applying for citizenship and did not want to do anything to jeopardize it, he awoke before dawn with the rest of his family and went to work picking asparagus at a nearby farm. Late in the afternoon he headed home. Little sleep and exhaustion from the day’s long work caught up with him and he fell asleep at the wheel. After the accident, overcome by shock, he did indeed leave his vehicle, but was kept at the scene by bystanders.

“As Tomasi was telling his story,” Mike continued, “Tracy could see in his eyes deep remorse and absolute regret. He too was a man broken, suffering, plagued by nightmares whose life seemed almost over. In the suffering they both shared and mutual understanding he found, Tracy came to realize how easy it could have been for anyone to be in those shoes, and that what had happened had truly been an accident. An accident that not only took the life of his wife, but was also taking the life of this young man. In court, Tracy stood before the judge and against the wishes of many in his family asked for clemency. He said, “On behalf of my wife I forgive him. I know Violet is pleased that I have it in my heart to forgive.”

Mike ended his article by saying, “When I talked with Tracy about all that had happened, I was humbled by his ability to look beyond his own grief and do what was right, even in the face of alienating some of his own family. His convictions would have it no other way. Every day, each of us faces our own battles between what is comfortable and our convictions. The question is, how long are we going to allow the fear of the uncomfortable stop us from finding the courage to act? We must awaken, stand up and be counted. We must find the courage to take responsibility for ourselves, our families, and the environments in which we live.”

And so, once again I pose this question to you. Hopefully no occasion will arise to test our convictions, but: If some person killed someone who was dear to you, who made your life worth living, would you be able to forgive? As for myself, after reading Mike’s article, I think it would depend on the circumstances.

How to Attract and What to Feed Birds in the Winter: Give them a holiday season all winter long

2005-12-04T20:45:00.000-08:00

Every winter the birds seem to be flocked around my feeders in desperation, their feathers fluffed up against the cold, trying to snatch a seed or two before another one chases it away. The ground underneath is covered with other birds vying to grab any seeds that fall down. On weekends, when I’m home during the daylight, not only am I able to keep refilling the feeders, but I toss bits of bread and fruit, or leftover cooked potatoes, peas and pancakes on the ground, and the squirrels and birds compete with each other until it’s gone. After all, I figure, it’s harder for birds to survive during the winter, so why not let them have a season to celebrate, too?

Therefore, I thought you’d appreciate some tips for feeding the birds during the winter that I’ve learned over the years, including how to make your own suet and how to make your own birdseed mix. Quick tips: For one thing, use as many separate feeders as possible. To keep squirrels away from your feeders, hang them at least 5 – 6 in. off the ground and 8 in. from a tree. For seed storage; to keep your supply dry and protected from rodents, we keep our seeds in separate metal garbage cans outside; one for the mixed seed, the other for sunflower seeds. I just keep the thistle in the house, either in the plastic bag it came in, or in a glass jar.

I have one feeder for mixed seeds, which includes cracked corn and sunflower seeds, and that gets the most traffic. The cardinals seem to prefer it, too. (See how to make your own mixed batch of seeds further down.)

At my sunflower seed feeder in the winter, I get chickadees, cardinals and woodpeckers. Where winters aren’t as harsh, other birds you’ll attract are the tufted titmouse, evening grosbeak, white-breasted nuthatch, bluejay, purple finch and American goldfinch.

At my thistle feeder in the winter: dark-eyes juncos, sparrows, chickadees, and woodpeckers. Where winters aren’t as harsh, you’ll get: American goldfinch, purple finch, house finch, pine siskin, house sparrow.

At my suet container in the winter, chickadees, and yes, starlings, (but I love their “music”), and definitely various woodpeckers. Where winters aren’t as harsh: downy woodpecker, hairy woodpecker, white-breasted nuthatch, red-breasted nuthatch. (See more about suet, and my homemade suet recipe, further down.)

I don’t have a feeder for cracked corn, so I don’t know which birds I’d get in the winter, but in less harsh climates, you’ll attract: mourning dove, bluejay, house sparrow, tree sparrow, song sparrow, white-throated sparrow, brown-headed cowbird, red-winged blackbird.

I don’t have a millet feeder either, so again I don’t know which birds I would get, but in less harsh climates: mourning dove, house sparrow, tree sparrow, song sparrow, white-throated sparrow, brown-headed cowbird, red-winged blackbird.

*To make your own birdseed mix: Pour about 20 pounds of white proso millet, 10 pounds of cracked corn and 25 pounds of black-oil sunflower seed into a metal trash can and use a broom handle to mix it up.

*Suet: The overall winner, health-wise for the birds and their most preferable form, especially in the winter, is those chunks of beef suet I get in the meat department at grocery stores, but they’re hard to find. Ask the butcher, because some say their distributors don’t carry it. Otherwise, you can buy those processed suet cakes where bird seed is sold in “regular” stores, and they don’t turn rancid in hot weather.

To make your own suet: Every time you fry hamburgers or any meat where the fat runs off, pour the fat into an empty soup can and refrigerate it. Meanwhile, every time you have leftovers, be it meat, or vegetables including potatoes and peas, put them together in a container and refrigerate it. When you have enough to fill your suet container, you’ll have to thaw your saved fat first, because it will have hardened, but only make it a bit soft. If you scoop it out into a microwave-safe bowl, you can “nuke” it. Then throw in the leftover food you saved, stir everything together and put the conglomeration into your suet container. How’s that for recycling food?

We’ve only had snow and cold here for about a week, but the birds are getting so used to me clomping out in my boots and jacket to give them more food, they barely fly away any more. Happy Holidays!

Thanksgiving: How It Can Bring Out the Worst in Us

2005-11-26T22:50:00.000-08:00

I was caught in a traffic jam inside a grocery store last week—a jam-up of people so intent on buying food for their Thanksgiving festivities, they were rudely trying to force themselves and their carts ahead of everyone else.

The usual amenities of going up on one side of a main aisle and down on the other didn’t exist, and soon everyone was at a face-off—one solid mass of people coming from one direction, confronting another solid mass going the other way. The crowd was at a standstill, because nobody was willing to back up. Rounding the corner from a side aisle, I had inadvertently entered the mess and become trapped. Tempers began flaring, as the urgency of getting home so they could relax and have fun built up.

My human nature is to help others, so I struggled to shift my cart aside so a bewildered-looking woman facing me could get through. This, in turn, would have allowed a group of shoppers behind her to get through too, and ease the congestion. But a young man to my left rammed his cart against mine and snarled, “Haven’t you got any brains? Shove her cart out of the way so we can go!”

I wanted to tell the dummy how he was making matters worse, and that if he moved his cart momentarily, he and everyone else would be free to go. I wanted to tell him that he was probably 30 years younger than her, and for sure wasn’t being a gentleman. I wanted to (let’s just say physical assault on him entered my mind, even though he was at least six inches taller than me). I scanned the faces closest to him…no support there. They had become infected by his words. The woman tried to pull her cart back, but couldn’t. Too much “piggy syndrome” in the faces closest to us on her side, too. One wrong move on my part, and there seriously would have been a riot. As for the people further behind on both sides, they were oblivious to the situation. Impatience ruled.

All of this, because of a holiday meant to give thanks for our bounty. I’m not going to say what I actually did. Instead, put yourself in my situation. How would you have reacted, and what would you have done?

A Thanksgiving Tribute to those who are currently or have fought for Liberty and Freedom, wherever you are

2005-11-20T13:40:00.000-08:00

Thanksgiving is a time to be thankful for what we have. This means not only being thankful for the food we have on our table, the clothes we have on our backs, or for having our family members and friends, but for the freedoms we have due to the efforts of others.

This site is not intended to be political. How we individually regard our quests for liberty and freedom is simply one form of human nature. Therefore, I am including a video clip that, although I found it on Veterans' Day, I feel is appropos now too, on this holiday when we most express our overall gratitude.

Whether you like war or not (and who in actuality does?), sometimes wars have to be fought to protect or save or free other people, or ourselves. I'm using this clip, which doesn't take any sides, to merely extend a thanks-giving to each and every person, who was, or is, in the armed forces, whatever your personal beliefs.

Go to Dale’s “Meanderings and Musings from Mimico.” When you get to these archived pages from November 2005, scroll down to his Nov. 11 post, turn up your sound, and click on “please click on this link.”

Thank you, Dale, and also a wholehearted thanks to Anvilcloud at "Raindrops" for informing me about this clip through his Nov. 11 post.

Creating Our Own Small-Town America in the Big City—We Can Make It Happen!

2005-11-12T15:21:00.000-08:00

I cherish the block I live on, along with my neighbors, because we have created a small-town haven amidst what others deem “the crime and corruption” of life in a major city, compared with life in the suburbs. True, there are neighborhoods here which aren’t safe, as there are in all major cities, but people tend to generalize big cities, or even particular streets within them, as being “crime-ridden,” when in fact there are many areas in those cities, or along vast stretches of those streets, where it has been proven that it’s safe to walk alone at night, and everyone who lives there sincerely cares about each other. We feel as if we’re living in small-town America.

Just as an example: Because the weatherman had forecasted rain later in the day, and the likelihood of snow during the upcoming week, all of us were out raking our leaves today. I couldn’t help reveling in the glory of it all. Besides the many hues of the leaves themselves—copper, orange, crimson and yellow—the very air was golden. There was a soft swish as we swept the leaves into piles, and an earthy scent as we scooped them into our bags and crushed them down.

Several young neighborhood boys had been taking turns pulling each other up and down the sidewalk in a wagon, when we saw a fire engine quietly driving towards our block, returning to the nearby station. Immediately a cry went up: “Fire truck coming!” The boys and we adults waved as the truck went past us, and the firemen inside waved back. Then one of them leaned out the window and called out, “Why don’t you kids help rake the leaves?” Seconds later, the boys were racing toward their parents to get rakes, and soon were taking up the fireman’s suggestion—reminiscent of Tom Sawyer’s fence-painting ploy.

Perhaps the best example of life on my block: We all chip in for a permit to block off our street and hold block parties—setting up grills, tables and chairs in the middle of the street, and bringing an array of food—not only on “National Night Out,” but during the spring and fall. During some winters, one of the neighbors often invites everyone over for a “soup party,” and we’ll share a couple steaming pots of soup, along with wine, cheese and crackers.

This didn’t just magically happen. One of my neighbors instigated our camaraderie, someone who was willing to take the time to make up flyers and put them in our mailboxes, and leave a contact phone number. After that another neighbor joined her quest, and now we all partake under their leadership.

If you aren’t fortunate to have a “small-town America” on your block, I urge you to create one. Most people today are so impersonal and isolated, they often don’t even know their next-door neighbors’ names. All it takes is dropping off a note in all your neighbors’ mailboxes along with your phone number, and if they’re interested, they’ll help you make the dream a reality. The instigators on my block, and my neighbors as a whole, have made my life richer and fuller, so that now, every time I pull into my driveway, I’m truly glad to be back where I belong—on “my block” back home.

Bread—the “Staff of Life”

2005-11-06T13:50:00.000-08:00

Most of us tend to take this everyday food item for granted, yet bread is a definitive piece of every culture, and every religion and country in the world, if I’m not mistaken. Whatever its shape, size or name, not only has it been a principal form of food from earliest times, but it has been a staple in the lives of mankind throughout history.

"Loaves and rolls have been found in ancient Egyptian tombs," according to http://www.botham.co.uk/bread/history1.htm, the history of bread. "In the British Museum's Egyptian galleries you can see actual loaves which were made and baked over 5,000 years ago. Also on display are grains of wheat which ripened in those ancient summers under the Pharaohs. Wheat has been found in pits where human settlements flourished 8,000 years ago. Bread, both leavened and unleavened, is mentioned in the Bible many times. The ancient Greeks and Romans knew bread for a staple food, and even in those days people argued whether white or brown bread was best."

Also, according to the site, "Further back, in the Stone Age, people made solid cakes from stone-crushed barley and wheat. A millstone used for grinding corn has been found, that is thought to be 7,500 years old. The ability to sow and reap cereals may be one of the chief causes which led man to dwell in communities, rather than to live a wandering life hunting and herding cattle."

There’s a plethora of terms associated with bread, such as “the staff of life.” To “break bread” signifies a sense of sharing and camaraderie, and it is also used while doing a blessing over the bread. We often picture a humble family with little or no worldly goods saying, “At least we have bread on the table.” Bread and water has become known as a staple for prisoners, but we also bring a loaf of bread as a gift when we’re invited to someone’s home.

Often, specific types of bread symbolize a particular nation or religion, or are used for specific rituals. For example, Christians http://www.uri.org/kids/world_chri.htm use bread to symbolize the body of Christ. Jewish people eat matzoh http://www.koshercooking.com/resource/matzoh.html on Passover http://www.holidays.net/passover/story.html to signify the unleavened bread the Israelites made and ate while fleeing persecution from Pharaoh. They also serve a good challah
http://www.williams.edu/Astronomy/kkwitter/challah.html during special occasions over the year to connotate warmth and friendship.

There are German and Swiss rye breads, and Italian rustic breads, while people from India are known for their naan http://bread.allrecipes.com/az/NaanBread.asp. Then there’s the American Indian http://www.yvwiiusdinvnohii.net/NAIFood/NAIrecipes.htm North American Indian Fry Bread, or
pita bread http://www.e-rcps.com/m_e/pita.shtml in the Mid-East.

As such, I’d say bread has an impact on our human nature. Also, since it’s my human nature to learn more, I checked on the hidden and obscure taxes we in the U.S. have to pay for our bread. According to an editorial written by Don Stott, http://www.gold-eagle.com/editorials_01/stott021001.html, written in 1991 mind you,

“One loaf of bread bought in a grocery store or bakery has property taxes for the farmer, bakery, garage for the delivery trucks, oil refinery, truck factory, tire factory, and the factories for every single part in the truck, tractor, and various pieces of machinery that go into making and delivering the bread.

“There are taxes on the property and workers for the milling of the flour, egg producer, maker of yeast, milk, wrappers, slicers, ovens, and even the printers who print the wrappers, and ink that goes into them. All these factories, shippers, farmers, stores, etc. have labor and property taxes to pay as well as telephone, fuel, and a host of other taxes, all of which add to the cost of that single loaf of bread. One economist, 30 years ago, said that a $1.00 loaf of bread had $.95 in taxes.”

I consider this “food for thought.” Don’t you?

We yearn for a place to escape, yet we destroy that very place once we get there

2005-10-30T14:52:00.000-08:00

The North Shore, along Lake Superior in Minnesota, has long been a favorite retreat for city-dwellers. Just the words themselves, North Shore, bring up visions of boulders to be climbed, pristine woods brimming with wildlife and wildflowers, and rivers swollen with fish. We anticipate the earthy scent of woodsmoke, of hunkering down by a campfire or loading birch logs into a wood stove. Only there can we find the serenity we seek, be it from the chirping of songbirds, the crickets’ concerts, or the blackened sky—away from the city lights, where we can view a kaleidoscope of stars and constellations. And at night we can go to sleep in a woodsy cottage or cabin, and feel as if we’re a part of nature.

A new breed of North Shore tourists is seeking getaways now, however, according to an article by Richard Meryhew, in the Oct. 28 Star-Tribune. They still want to see the lake and other scenery, but they insist on having hot tubs and flat-screen TV’s, too. So Twin City (Minneapolis and St. Paul) developers are forging in to tear down the few remaining quaint hotels and resorts so they can build sprawling vacation condominiums and modern restaurants. http://www.startribune.com/stories/110/5694015.html

An explicit example is “the 110-mile stretch of picturesque shoreline between Duluth and Grand Marais.” The area “was defined by mom-and-pop resorts, home-grown cafes and souvenir shops.” When you visited, you truly felt you were on a vacation, in another world. “Now,” Meryhew wrote, “it’s evolving into a getaway for the well-to-do, with rooms, restaurants and real estate developed to fit Twin Cities lifestyles at Twin Cities prices.” Basically, everything that made the area such a naturalistic haven, including the people, is being destroyed and replaced by everything we sought to escape.

Other examples in the article: 1. A $27 million vacation complex with twin-home “cottages” that go for $450,000 or more. Built on a former campground south of Two Harbors, the development has a recreation center with a heated pool, whirlpool, and rooms for massages, games and exercise. 2. An $80 million vacation condominium featuring an indoor water park, which is being built on a bluff overlooking a scenic bay in Two Harbors. The list goes on, along the North Shore. It doesn’t cover other areas in Minnesota, and it doesn’t cover other states.

Uproot more natural habitat for wildlife, ravage the land, manicure the “lawns” down to the shoreline so they “look civilized,”—who cares about all the species whose existence depends on what lives there? Cover up more wetlands, chop down more trees, and replace all the earth with cement…soon the wilderness will disappear and the wildlife we’re seeking will have no place to live and procreate. Who cares about what happened to the Ivory-Billed Woodpecker?

I guess it’s human nature for these people to want to “get away from it all,” but to also have what they’re getting away from waiting for them when they get there.

Where you can Recycle Your Appliances, Electronic Products and Batteries

2005-10-29T10:56:00.000-07:00

I honestly promise this site is not going to be devoted to recycling, as you'll see by my next post, but first I had to share this:

About 95 % of the materials in refrigerators are recyclable, including the metal, plastic liner, and glass shelves, and although many electronic products contain potentially hazardous materials such as lead, mercury and cadmium, some electronics equipment can be recycled or reused, according to the Oct. 2005 issue of Consumer Reports. They have a free web site, www.GreenerChoices.org, that lists groups that will accept old or broken parts. (Under “What you can do,” click on “recycling center.”)

Also, Consumer Reports suggests that if you need to know which stores in your area accept worn-out rechargeable batteries, go to www.rbrc.org, the Rechargeable Battery Recycling Corp. It has worked with Home Depot, Sears, Target, Wal-Mart, and other major retailers to implement a battery recycling program.

Why don’t more people recycle and give away the used items they don’t want instead of throwing everything into the garbage?

2005-10-25T19:13:00.000-07:00

If we have to use plastic, and realistically I think we do, corn-based plastic food containers (see my Oct. 22 post), as compared with oil-based ones, seem to be the closest we’ve come yet to lowering the burden on our ever-growing landfills. Yet the only real way to lessen the burden is if more people recycle instead of throwing everything into the garbage. Countless cities throughout the United States now have programs in which they’ll pick up recyclable items right outside our doorsteps, but too many people aren’t using them. I figure these malfeasants come under four groups.

1. Some people refuse to recycle because they don’t care about it. It’s their human nature. (I compare them with shoppers who abandon their grocery carts in the middle of the parking lot, where they’ll block traffic, instead of bringing them back to the provided nooks.)

2. Some people actually forget that they could recycle instead.

3. Others pull the old non-voting excuse: "There are so many other people recycling, it won’t matter if I throw away the little garbage I have." And then there’s...

4. Those who are just too lazy to get off their butts and put their recyclable items into separate containers, then carry them down to the curb. Apparently bringing several containers down besides their garbage takes too much effort.

Which group do you fall under? I’m not perfect, but besides recycling paper, cardboard, glass, metal, etc., whenever I can get my hands on typewritten paper that’s only been used on one side, I save it until I have a boxful, then bring it to a nearby school. The students use it in their computer classes. When we use Campbell’s soup at home, I recycle the cans, but first I take off the labels and bring stacks of them to the same school. They save up and redeem the coupons to purchase items for the students that they otherwise would be unable to get. There are many nature-related organizations and groups that accept used ink cartridges for recycling. This in turn gives them extra assets to help further their causes. (My other site, Natureinfo.blogspot.com, has more ideas in the comments under my “Reusable or recycle goods wanted or available” category.)

Also, to get rid of unwanted household items, check http://www.freecycle.org/ to see if your city has a freecycle program. The Freecycle Network was started in May 2003 to promote waste reduction in Tucson, Arizona's downtown and help save desert landscape from being taken over by landfills. Now there are freecycle groups around the globe. If you go to the site, you can find one in your location where you can receive lists of items people need or are giving away, or you can list things you need or want to get rid of that someone else would appreciate being able to get free. This pianos, fax machines…you name it!

And if you live in the Twin Cities in Minnesota, check out this listing service for residents. It is part of an effort to reduce the amount of reusable goods being thrown away. Go to the Free Market. (10/29/05—Darlene)

If you think it stinks when you dump your garbage in the garbage can, imagine what it would smell like if our planet became overrun with landfills!

Corn-Based Plastic Food Containers Replacing Petroleum-Based Plastics? They're Here!

2005-10-22T19:22:00.000-07:00

Beginning Nov. 1, Cargill-owned NatureWorks, which makes natural plastics from corn, will supply environmentally-friendly containers for fresh strawberries, Brussels sprouts, cut fruit and herbs to Wal-Mart, the largest grocery chain in America, according to an Oct. 21 article in Minnesota’s St. Paul Pioneer Press. Replacing conventional packaging with NatureWorks PLA for just these four items alone will translate to more than 100 million containers per year for Wal-Mart Stores Inc., according to Matt Kistler, vice president of product development and private brands SAM’S Club (a division of a division of Wal-Mart Stores, Inc.). “With this change to packaging made from corn, we will save the equivalent of 800,000 gallons of gasoline and reduce more than 11 million pounds of greenhouse gas emissions from polluting our environment,” Kistler said.

Phase Two includes approximately eight million more packaging items with cut vegetable containers. Phase Three, just in time for the holidays, will be new NatureWorks PLA gift cards. The final phase scheduled for 2005 will include bread bags, donut boxes and select tomato packaging.

Wal-Mart and NatureWorks spent about a year extensively testing packages made from the plastic known as PLA, or polylactic acid. One thing that can’t be packaged in corn-based plastic containers—hamburger, because many people defrost it in the microwave, and the PLA will melt.

Made from Midwestern field corn, NatureWorks PLA is a bio-based plastic that can be used in a wide range of packaging applications from clear food containers to beverage bottles. The material provides the convenience, look, feel and performance of petroleum-based plastic packaging – while being made from a 100 percent annually renewable natural resource. Cargill, a biotech company based in Minnesota, is an international marketer, processor and distributor of agricultural, food, financial and industrial products and services. They provide customer solutions in supply chain management, food applications and health and nutrition. To read more about these sustainable efforts, go to http://www.cargill.com/news/news_releases/news4/051021_nwllcsams.htm#TopOfPage

Okay folks, admittedly this news isn’t specifically related to human nature, but it does raise a lot of questions, which is our nature to do (or at least mine). For one thing, how will we be able to distinguish between corn-based containers and traditional ones made from petroleum? Also, can they be recycled? How soluble are they? Will they be able to break down in landfills? Other than that, I’m gung-ho!