No Reminders Required

I am not amongst those who are mesmerized by the Olympics, but I will turn them on occasionally out of a sense of duty. On Saturday morning, among other events, ski jumping was being featured. Aside from finding it boring in the present, I was reminded just how mind-numbing it was back in February 1994.

There I was, lying very uncomfortably on the floor in the middle of the night. I tuned the tv to The Games and was treated to ski jumping — hour after interminable hour, or so it felt like and still feels like in retrospect.

I had been mostly on the floor for weeks after a back attack of bulging discs. I could barely sit at the table long enough to eat a quick meal before the pain in my leg would become overwhelming, forcing me back to the floor. We had a waterbed at the time, which wouldn’t have been helpful for a misaligned back, so I also slept (sort of slept and sort of not slept) on a mattress on the floor beside the bed when I wasn’t lying downstairs in the family room  

That particular morning, I had been about to leave for physio (I could drive that far in a few minutes) when I had a severe spasm that instantly put me onto the floor almost unable to move. I pretty well stayed there throughout that day and then throughout that long, lonely, miserable night. It was before the internet, and all that I had to occupy my hours was the tv, and all that the tv had on, or close enough anyway, were the Olympics. Unfortunately, the thing that was playing was ski jumping. 

It was a rather dismal night. I don’t think I got any sleep in my uncomfortable predicament even though hour after hour of ski jumping should be enough to send anyone into a state of stupor.

I was more or less out of commission for two months, and my body has never been the same as it used to be since then. 

So, on this past Saturday morning, as I sat in my chair, doing this or that on my tablet, probably reading blog posts, I was not at all amused to be aware of ski jumping being featured. After a time, I extricated myself from the chair, wobbled over to the computer, and turned it off because the ski jumping was only bringing me back to that miserable night within a miserable two months.

It happened thirty-two years ago, but I really don't require any reminders.

Brutal Weather

What a Friday night — apparently! I emphasize "apparently" because I was unaware of the weather conditions at the time due my poor hearing. Sue, she of highly acute hearing, reported that the howling wind and rattling windows affected her repose greatly. I was unaware, even though I was experiencing a rather light and restless sleep.

There was not a huge amount of snow accumulation, but there was a lot of drifting. I went out momentarily to try to capture the drift by our front door, for it almost always drifts somewhat in there. I thought that the shovel would show how deep the drift was, but the snow was so compacted that I could not even force the shovel into the snow. There were probably at least 18 inches of hard snow below the shovel.

Then, I tried to take a video, so I could let blog people hear the how ferocious wind was howling, but apparently, I misfired and only captured the inside of my pocket when I beat a hasty retreat from the merciless cold and wind. The reported temperature was -21C/-6F with a windchill of -30C/-22F although I think the wind chill was even worse than what was reported. It was brutal.

Although I failed miserably outside, I did get a couple of pics from my den.

The drifting behind the satellite across the street is profound,
but other sections were swept clear.

An interesting shape on our garage roof.

It’s even colder (-25C/-13F) on this Sunday morning. No walkie again today, I guess. Meanwhile, I see that is abnormally warm on the west coast. 

Caturday 88: Out of Africa and Around the Globe

I have stumbled upon a very interesting YouTube channel: Sleepy Time History. Their presentations are usually several hours long and designed to help put you to sleep and not keep you on the edge of your seat. However, they are often so interesting that I would like to stay awake, so, I will sometimes switch to them during the day.

After having heard more than one anthropological podcast on the rise of our homo species, which I found both very informative and interesting, I came across two podcasts about cats. I am not sure that I kept awake all of the way through either one, but I found them interesting, and since it is Caturday, I will post a bit of what I think I remember, but don't bet your academic thesis on any of this without further corroboration. ;-)

Although there are various species of small cats in the world, every single cat of our somewhat domesticated variety is, like humans, African in origin — every single one, all over the world, and, apparently, the DNA from modern cats varies very little from that of the African wildcat.

The descent of cats from Africa is a complex and fascinating story. Genetic evidence suggests that domestic cats (Felis catus) are descended from the African wildcat (Felis lybica ). (Google AI)

African wildcat, Felis lybica 

Cats became honoured and domesticated in Egypt, probably at least 10000 years ago. This came about as part of the Agricultural Revolution, for as humans began to store grain, rodents were attracted and their numbers boomed. In turn, the plentiful rodent numbers attracted the African cats (Felis lybica). By feasting on the rodents, the cats became a great boon to human civilization by helping to preserve the harvest while also reducing rodent-generated disease.

Over time, the cats became venerated by the Egyptians, and I believe that one fact that I heard in my sleepy state was that a temple was discovered that had the remains of 30 000 cats — all embalmed, if you please.

Although cats were greatly favoured and protected in Egypt, some found their way onto boats, quite possibly smuggled in some cases, and they began to populate themselves throughout the Mediterranean region. For the same reason as before - rodent control - Felis lybica became important in Rome, both on land and on their hundreds of boats. They made as far as Britain by the first century CE and also to East Asia via caravan trade routes. 

The cats managed well wherever they went, living on the edges of humanity. Then, something unfortunate happened in 1233 when Pope Gregory decreed that associated cats—particularly black cats— might be used of Satan and demonically linked along with their humans. 

This became a very unfortunate time for, perhaps millions, of cats who were killed, and it has been said that some were tortured. If more cats had been around, perhaps the Black Death would have at least been mitigated somewhat, for with fewer rats, there would have been fewer fleas to transmit the dreaded disease.

Fortunately, the Reformation and Renaissance were beneficial for cats, and they then spread to the rest on the world on ships, just as they had earlier spread throughout the Roman Empire.

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I love the Sleep Time History YT channel and think it is possible that you might too.

Relaxing history explorations designed to help you unwind and fall asleep. Discover ancient civilizations, forgotten empires, and incredible human stories - told in a calm, soothing voice. Learn while you rest. Our stories are crafted with respect for history. We use AI tools to assist with research, script drafting, narration, and imagery, while we polish the final narrative. Our videos blend research with creative storytelling designed for entertainment and relaxation. They are not intended as formal academic or scientific sources. All images are AI-generated artistic impressions and may not represent actual historical people or events.

Two links to Sleepy Time Cat History

How Cats Chose Us: The Secret History of Feline Domestication | History for Sleep 

The ENTIRE History Of Cats | 10,000 BC To Today | HISTORY FOR SLEEP

White and Ice

I had my first physio session for my wrist yesterday after irritating a ligament when shovelling snow. It seems like such a minor reason to invoke physio, but it's darn irritating. Afterward, I picked up Sue to take her to townhall for her photo prompt, which involved a selfie, stairs and the colour, white, assuming of course that white is a colour.

She adopted some poses, and I became her tripod, taking photos under her direction. I'll post one now for the sake of the narrative, but I reserve the right to make another post in the fullness of time. It was the first one we took, but, of course, we took others because you never know.

It was lunch time, so we picked up coffee and turkey bacon club sandwiches at Tims and took them to our usual winter spot. I know that you will be both surprised and disappointed to learn that we did not take our usual car and coffee selfie.

As we finished our repast, we looked up to see white spots on the far bank of the river. By golly! They were the trumpeter swans, which are also white, and this is Sue's white photo week.

We trudged through the snow from the car to the river. Well, I trudged, but I think Sue flew. You can see her in the red circle.

We both got there and took pictures, but the blasted critters were hanging out on the far bank. When we got back to the car, didn't they swim to the near riverbank? Sue went back, but that trekking had been enough for my sorry foot, so I remained put.

The trumpeters visit every winter, but we never know whereabouts on the river they will appear. We like to catch them if we can. In the background of the next photo, are goldeneye ducks. We seldom see anything but mallards.

While we're here, I would like to show you where the ice stops on the river. From where Sue was standing in the red circle photo (above), if I look upstream, slightly to the left, I see where the ice cover ends abruptly because the channel is narrowing and that increases the velocity of the flow.

From the same spot, I looked downstream and saw free-flowing water with no ice to speak of.

17

I don't know quite how it happened, but my grandson, Jonathan aka JJ, has completed his 17th sun-circuit. It came very quickly, just like his birth 17 years ago. I was called to their house in the middle of the night to be there for Danica while Sue, Sha and Dad drove to the Almonte hospital. They were back in no time flat.

For now, I have decided to do postcard-style greeting cards rather than the traditional folding cards that I have been creating for so many years. You may recall me posting this photo last fall when he planted some tulip bulbs for us while doing acrobatics on the spade. I just added the text for the birthday greeting.

He requested Mary Brown chicken for birthday supper and cookies, rather than cake, for dessert. Sha ordered, and we picked up the food on our way over.

Then, the usual things occurred, depending on one's interpretation of usual, I suppose. 😎

Things Spotted

The first three items were spotted and taken by Sue, quite obviously in one case. I spotted them too, but she got the photos.

A mirror by the curb. With snow on it, Sue was able to use it for a white photo prompt. Actually, I wouldn't have spotted this one down by the snowbank.  Those are our legs btw. My jeans look khaki in the photo, but they were regular blue.

A silly old man in a red coat with his mitts dangling. It was warm enough that we could expose our hands for a minute without our fingers freezing, which has been the case recently.

A guy was doing things on the frozen pond, but it seems as though he was ice fishing, which seems odd on the small, shallow pond. He yelled that the ice was a foot thick.

Meanwhile, I was being charmed by a dog that was rolling about in the snow with great delight. I took two pics of the dog and owner.

I preferred the dog in the first photo and the person in the second, so I combined them in Photoshop. It was something to try, and it is nice to see that not all of my Photoshop skills have deserted me.

A Later and Warmer Walk

After grocery shopping this morning and then having an infuriating time with my tablet that took forever to rectify, we did not get out for our morning walk. Maybe we will do that later, but for now, I will just post a few pics from yesterday, when we also went out in the afternoon.

It was quite wonderful out there with the temperatures up to -4C/25F and with sunshine too. What more could a lowly Canadian ask for, except maybe to be shown a modicum of respect from . . .  oh never mind.

I took a photo a little ice formation looking down from the trail bridge. It's nothing special, but I thought that I would share it regardless.

Then, while Sue was photographing things elsewhere form the bridge, I saw my shadow on the vegetation. I'd never seen that before, but we usually walk in the morning. 

If you look at the little bridge in the above photo, that's where we are going next — our usual route.

There we saw out shadow again, but on the rocks and snow this time. We put our heads together. Aren't we the sweetest couple? 😉

Whilst on the little bridge, three large snow-removal trucks went by. I captured a live photo (aka short video) of one of them.

I am not sure where they dump all of the snow. I used to think that they would take it to the river, but someone pointed out that the snow would be salty, so they probably wouldn't do that. There is one dump site near us, and I will try to remember to grab a snap sometime, but there must be other dump sites too.