Notes From A Bear's Journey

    The word "mis-" can be a bit of a misnomer when tagged onto another word as if an old but polite gentlemen was flagging down a young lady by calling out "Miss.  Oh Miss."  But throw "mis" onto certain words and it can create several definitions; misunderstanding someone could mean that you perhaps incorrectly interpreted what you heard, while a misunderstanding could mean a total lack of comprehension, just as the word misleading could come to mean either an unintended distraction or a purposeful one.  Visiting a new country is not much different, the directional signage different or nonexistant and the meanings of them changing with the times.  A brief piece in The New Yorker wrote: The English alphabet used to have five more letters, including "thorn," which represented a "th"-like sound and fell out offavor when printers such as William Caxton ("The Canterbury Tales") started leaving it out.   From engraved scribes to

Whipsiderry Beach in Cornwall   There was Jon & Dave, and Nigel, who (after a few beers) became Duncan Ray; then Morris & Lynne, and a few repeats in Tony & Marion and Dennis.  Oh, and Gary the British bulldog.  Dogs were everywhere, of course, far too numerous to mention since dogs are allowed in virtually every shop and pub  (well-behaved only said the signs, although all of the dogs we met seemed to be well behaved since we heard only a few barks and absolutely zero fights); not as much effort was made for cats but those who did hang about rarely moved from under your feet as if daring you to step on them while they cleaned themselves, making you feel that you were not even worthy of a glance or a look up.  We were back in my wife's childhood region of the Cornish coast in England, now more identified by the backdrop beaches of Holywell and elsewhere used for filming the popular television series of Poldark and Doc Martin (a Netflix special was currently bein

    By the time this post appears, I will likely be standing on some distant shore, perhaps guilt-ridden at leaving our animals at home (although in capable hands with someone who has not only cared for them for years but has made a business in doing so); and of course I marvel at both the ability of what we humans have created to move hundreds of us at a time and drop them off an ocean away, shifting time zones and turning body clocked nights into days.  Of course, the planes that do this transporting know nothing of this, their engines actually working almost entirely opposite that of our automobiles, growing ever-more efficient the more they keep running.  Keeping them going for 20 or 23 hours a day is ideal, or so an airline mechanic once told me (a recent non-stop flight just introduced that concept to bleary-eyed passengers).  But all of that travel pales next to those pesky photons (yes, I'm back on that subject, still fascinated at these constantly created particles that e

    Blogs are dead, said a friend of mine, a relic of an older generation (referring to me, I believe).  But yet when I gaze out into the blog universe, they appear to be as numerous as ever; but I could see what he was saying in just watching my own habits when I pull up an author's site or even a science site, there among the categories, nestled with the "home" and "about" and "press" subcategories rest another section which I rarely explore..."blog."  And yet, people still ask me about how one goes about starting their own blog (it takes about 3 minutes to be up and running and yes, it's that easy; just type "starting a blog" in most any search engine and hundreds of free instructions will pop up); and to be fair some of today's blogs have hundreds of thousands, if not millions, of followers (but not this one, in case you were wondering).  Quite frankly, a blog on kitchen cabinets or on being a new mother cooking is puzzl

   The rather fascinating history of J-E-LL-O is one of those upward climbs that starts out with a small family creation and goes through several owners before catching on and entering the world of the consumer market (on a trivial note, and perhaps why I might be writing about this, my state of Utah holds the record for consuming the most lime-flavored Jello each year; in fact it's been named our state food!); and yes, there is a Jello museum .  Interesting trivia for sure, but what caught my eye was this from Quartz about gelatin in general:  Gelatin is made from collagen --from the skin, bones, and connective tissues of animals-- that has been heated in liquid.  As the collagen cooks, long strings of proteins bind together in a three-dimensional pattern that effectively traps water and holds it in suspension.  Boing.   Okay, I knew that, especially since I occasionally take those vitamin and supplements which are each carefully encased in what's labeled, gel tabs.  Yes, I t

    Nobody cares to be constantly reminded about something, perhaps that trait being a leftover from childhood days when parents "reminded" you to do your homework or to take a bath (showers were pretty rare back in the day).  And in many ways, that thought hit home for me due to the drop in readers on my last post, understandably so since even I tend to hesitate to continue when a warning or cautionary note appears before a video or article (although I do find it a bit ironic that in today's world we seem not to be bothered with warnings of "explicit" or "offensive" news photos or movie ratings).  After all, who wants to hear about brutality or mistreatment or poisons, especially since we're already bombarded by so much of it that at times we appear ready to lean out the car window and yell ENOUGH!  Which brings me to a book recommend, one by author Heather Havrilesky titled (of all things), What If This Were Enough .  She begins her rail against