All this time you thought people were swearing...
That four letter word starting with S turns out to be an acronym.
Way back when dried manure was transported by ship, it was important the blocks of manure not get wet. Damp manure, besides smelling bad, releases methane gas. If a ship's hold were to fill with methane and a crew member were to strike a match - well, the ship didn't stay afloat for very long.
In order to make sure transported manure stayed dry, the packaging was marked Store High In Transit.
So the next time someone uses that acronym, grab the nearest storage container and place it on the top shelf.
Friday, October 8, 2010
Thursday, October 7, 2010
Unidentified Running Objects
It wasn't a dead skunk in the middle of the road - because the eyes reflecting in the headlights were moving.
Whatever occupied the middle of the road was certainly bold. The glowing eyes were angling toward my car rather than away.
A tap of the brakes slowed the car enough for me to catch site of a white form on the shoulder keeping pace with my car. Thoughts of wolves and vampires flashed through my mind and for a moment I thought I was being stalked.
I envisioned the scenario. The as yet unidentified thing in the middle of the road would prevent passage. I would be forced to stop whereupon the beast to my right would leap on the hood of the car, gnashing and snarling at the windshield.
As it turned out leaning on my horn caused both creatures to retreat. But as I passed I clearly saw two dirty-white canines loping along the side of the road.
Ghost dogs, I thought. And the hair on the back of my neck stood up.
Whatever occupied the middle of the road was certainly bold. The glowing eyes were angling toward my car rather than away.
A tap of the brakes slowed the car enough for me to catch site of a white form on the shoulder keeping pace with my car. Thoughts of wolves and vampires flashed through my mind and for a moment I thought I was being stalked.
I envisioned the scenario. The as yet unidentified thing in the middle of the road would prevent passage. I would be forced to stop whereupon the beast to my right would leap on the hood of the car, gnashing and snarling at the windshield.
As it turned out leaning on my horn caused both creatures to retreat. But as I passed I clearly saw two dirty-white canines loping along the side of the road.
Ghost dogs, I thought. And the hair on the back of my neck stood up.
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
Heavenly Slides
Double double toil and trouble, fire burn and cauldron bubble.
This excerpt from Shakespeare's Macbeth was going through my mind this evening as I watched layers of charcoal colored clouds churn across the sky.
Breaks in the clouds were few, but where the clouds thinned seven or eight beams of sunlight stabbed down to the ground.
So defined were those columns of light they might have been solid. I could envision an army of angles and other heavenly beings riding the bright slides to earth.
This excerpt from Shakespeare's Macbeth was going through my mind this evening as I watched layers of charcoal colored clouds churn across the sky.
Breaks in the clouds were few, but where the clouds thinned seven or eight beams of sunlight stabbed down to the ground.
So defined were those columns of light they might have been solid. I could envision an army of angles and other heavenly beings riding the bright slides to earth.
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
Misdirected Prognostication
It seems that whenever there is a particularly bad stretch of weather both private conversations and news reports turn to references of what the future weather ramifications are.
Almost as though, already miserable, we are compelled to make ourselves more miserable yet.
The interesting thing is, the portents of what the future holds are based on past attempts to predict the weather. Attempts that I suspect had a much lower accuracy level than repetition suggests.
For every heavy fog in September, October, and November there will be a snowfall in December, January, or February the Farmer's Almanac supposedly says.
Somewhere along the line someone replaced fog with rain and now folks are talking about how we're destined to endure another string of blizzards come the colder months because of the torrential rains we've had this month.
Why is it folks aren't inclined to look for the upside? Hey, the rain has to stop eventually and then we'll be back to blue sky and sunshine are the kinds of portents that should be shared.
Myself, I'm counting on several more weekends spent ocean-side before I worry about what the early months of 2011 hold.
Almost as though, already miserable, we are compelled to make ourselves more miserable yet.
The interesting thing is, the portents of what the future holds are based on past attempts to predict the weather. Attempts that I suspect had a much lower accuracy level than repetition suggests.
For every heavy fog in September, October, and November there will be a snowfall in December, January, or February the Farmer's Almanac supposedly says.
Somewhere along the line someone replaced fog with rain and now folks are talking about how we're destined to endure another string of blizzards come the colder months because of the torrential rains we've had this month.
Why is it folks aren't inclined to look for the upside? Hey, the rain has to stop eventually and then we'll be back to blue sky and sunshine are the kinds of portents that should be shared.
Myself, I'm counting on several more weekends spent ocean-side before I worry about what the early months of 2011 hold.
Monday, October 4, 2010
Thumb Obstacle
I was certain my google search was going to lead to the discovery that the tip of the human thumb has somewhere around 1200 nerve endings.
As it turned out, my quest for knowledge was inconclusive, but I'm still betting on at least 1000 nerve endings. I'm going with that wager because it felt like all 1000 endings were exposed when I sneezed while chopping celery and tried to add my thumb to my salad.
For such a little slice, it really made life difficult - because of course I had to apply four layers of bandages to protect my thumb from accidental bumps.
Do you have any idea how hard it is to work a button through a button hole when your thumb is three times its normal size?
Try cracking an egg with a bandaged thumb and see how much of the egg white makes it to the griddle and much gets absorbed in the gauze.
Tying a shoe became an exercise in futility. Pushing a looped string back under itself with an appendage the size of a cannon charge plunger is impossible.
My thumb is back to normal now - and I'm out of the house fifteen minutes earlier in the morning.
As it turned out, my quest for knowledge was inconclusive, but I'm still betting on at least 1000 nerve endings. I'm going with that wager because it felt like all 1000 endings were exposed when I sneezed while chopping celery and tried to add my thumb to my salad.
For such a little slice, it really made life difficult - because of course I had to apply four layers of bandages to protect my thumb from accidental bumps.
Do you have any idea how hard it is to work a button through a button hole when your thumb is three times its normal size?
Try cracking an egg with a bandaged thumb and see how much of the egg white makes it to the griddle and much gets absorbed in the gauze.
Tying a shoe became an exercise in futility. Pushing a looped string back under itself with an appendage the size of a cannon charge plunger is impossible.
My thumb is back to normal now - and I'm out of the house fifteen minutes earlier in the morning.
Sunday, October 3, 2010
Rain Reaction
Rain in October is totally different than rain in June.
June rain encourages us to celebrate growth and life. We splash in puddles and look forward to gardens filled with lush flowers and numerous vegetables.
October rains send us scurrying indoors. We lay logs in our fireplaces and wrap ourselves in blankets like insects weaving a cocoons.
June rain encourages us to celebrate growth and life. We splash in puddles and look forward to gardens filled with lush flowers and numerous vegetables.
October rains send us scurrying indoors. We lay logs in our fireplaces and wrap ourselves in blankets like insects weaving a cocoons.
Friday, October 1, 2010
Always an Ark
The primary topic of discussion here on the east coast right now is the rain.
The northern end of Delaware received 7-1/2 inches of rain in 24 hours. A pittance compared to what North Carolina had to deal with, but still enough to wash out bridges, cause mudslides, and close dozens of roads.
Perhaps the most overheard comments had to do with the building of an ark.
And I have to wonder... Why is it that in times of heavy rain people always want to build an ark?
No one ever says, Did you hear the forecast? Time to build a 3 masted schooner. No on ever proposes to hollow out a log for a canoe or mould a surfboard. Everyone's all about building an ark.
Why? Are we so consumed by guilt that we expect punishment from above at every turn - or are we simply lacking in imagination?
Just to put a twist on things, the next time there's call for torrential rains I'm going to say to my coworkers: Gee, I hope there's a sale on bathing suits.
The northern end of Delaware received 7-1/2 inches of rain in 24 hours. A pittance compared to what North Carolina had to deal with, but still enough to wash out bridges, cause mudslides, and close dozens of roads.
Perhaps the most overheard comments had to do with the building of an ark.
And I have to wonder... Why is it that in times of heavy rain people always want to build an ark?
No one ever says, Did you hear the forecast? Time to build a 3 masted schooner. No on ever proposes to hollow out a log for a canoe or mould a surfboard. Everyone's all about building an ark.
Why? Are we so consumed by guilt that we expect punishment from above at every turn - or are we simply lacking in imagination?
Just to put a twist on things, the next time there's call for torrential rains I'm going to say to my coworkers: Gee, I hope there's a sale on bathing suits.
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