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Curiosity DID NOT Kill the Cat
You know what DID kill the cat? Fear. Fear encrusted the cat like a toxic blanket. Because of this, the cat, stuck high up in a tree, could not come down. He was paralyzed and not curious enough to see what would happen if he tried.
Curiosity encourages us to learn, to explore, to question. Curiosity leads to knowledge.
No one has ever said so, but I wonder sometimes if my questions make people think I’m nosy when I’m actually inquiring and attempting to gather information.
Answers gives us knowledge and truth sets us free.
So, be curious and climb down from that tree.
And, if you need to hang on for dear life, do it while standing firmly on the ground.
via Encrusted
photo credit
More Than a Relic
While on vacation in Crested Butte, Colorado, I saw this old washing machine sitting in a front yard of a beautiful old house. Why did I take a photo?
Not only was I mesmerized by its beauty, I pictured the gone-by years when it actually worked. (From what I can tell from a wee bit of research, this machine was probably created in the 1920’s.) I conjured up the image of a person who used this machine. I pictured flapper attire, boys knee-length trousers, looser corsets and fancy stockings being pushed through the wringer.
Although its function was temporary, my curiosity — and perhaps those of others who had strolled passed — remains.
Weekly photo prompt – temporary
Critter Clocks
He sat and pondered on his couch
engrossed by such a day
the clock forgot to set itself
and the shadows ran astray
He’d sat enthralled much earlier
inside a chicken coop
grew feathers on his arms and legs
and hollered out a “whoop!”
No chicken soup tonight, he thought
those birds might yell at me
gingerly, of course they would,
but not a guarantee
The plumes were gone but there he sat
in room with critter clocks
Ben was clever, and Ben was glad
to live outside a box.
Painting by CD-W (1 of 3 in my Ben series)
daily word prompt: Gingerly
Is this racist?
Upon reading the daily prompt, Zip, the first thing that came to mind was the song, “Zip-a-dee-doo-dah … what a wonderful day.” It’s from Walt Disney’s movie, Song of the South. Released in 1946, this live-action animated musical takes place shortly after the end of the American Civil War and the abolition of slavery.
Some think the portrayal of Uncle Remus and the cartoon characters depict African Americans in a racist light — they use black vernacular and depict”the good times” of working on a plantation. Racist? I can see that. I can also see the love and kindness.
Johnny, the white boy living in the “main” house, befriends Uncle Remus who tells him stories of Br’er Rabbit, Br’er Fox and Br’er Bear.
Because of the controversy, protests by some African Americans at the release of the movie and more, Disney decided in the 1980’s not to release the movie on VHS or on DVD in the US.
But, Change.org has a petition out there to have the film released to the American public so we can “learn from history” and can make our own decisions.
Here’s what I know. The clips I watched of Uncle Remus are loving and kind. When Johnny is seriously injured, it is Uncle Remus he calls for on his “death” bed. Johnny reaches for his friend. I love this:
At the end of the movie, Johnny and his two friends (one white, one black) are joined by Uncle Remus as they march happily up a hill.
This ultra curious woman wants to know. What do you think of this movie? Is it racist?
What numbskull wrote this?
While sitting for my 14 month old granddaughter, I thought once again about the lyrics of this creepy song:
Rock a bye baby,
in a treetop,
when the wind blows,
the cradle will rock,
when the bough breaks,
the cradle will fall,
and down will come baby,
baby and all.
What a horrible song to sing to little ones at nighttime!
By the way, I’ve never sang those lyrics to any of my babies!
So, here’s the deal.
The song was first published in 1765 in Mother Goose’s Melody. The only change from today was the first line – Mush-abye-baby. (Still weird) The editors noted, it is “a warning to the proud and ambitious, who climb [too] high that [they] generally fall at last.”
Here’s one theory:
James II had a son by his second wife in 1688, displacing the presumptive heir, his daughter, Mary, married to the Protestant William III of Orange. One speculative theory simply holds that the baby in the song is this little guy, and the lyrics were a “death wish,” that the little Catholic prince would die and a Protestant king would ascend to the throne.
Here’s another: A relative of Davy Crocket made up the song when she was babysitting. (IMDB lists her as the writer of “Rock-a-Bye Baby” when it was used in well-over 100 movies.)
Alrighty then.
Another theory is when the pilgrims encountered the Native Americans, they put their babies in cradles up in trees to protect them. (Stupid because surely, the cradle would fall. Maybe it was really the Native Americans who created the song to make fun of the of the newcomers putting their kids in trees.)
Whatever. It’s still a scary song.
My ending goes like this,
“And Mommy/Daddy will catch you, cradle and all.”
At least the song “Ring around the Rosie,” sad because of its original meaning, didn’t have scary words.
Okay, off my soapbox now. And remember to always hold your children tight.
When we forget the “magic” in our world
We must count on children to remind us.
my sweet grandson
Why am I sad?
Because I fed her and the rest of her eager mates in water world every morning?
Because I was excited when Alex the Fish Man said yesterday she was bloated and may be ready to have babies?
Alex the Fish Man is on speed dial. I told him she was laying on her side, panting as she stared at me. He said she could have been bloated because of a something-something disease. The companions continued to swim by her, nudging her. “Get up. Get up!,” they said.
I turned up the oxygen level as told. Her panting slowed but she did not get up.
The others stared at me like saying, “aren’t you going to do anything?”
A brief visit to my computer, I went back to check. No movement. Nothing. Gone.
All I could do was say, “I’m sorry.” And to the others, I said the same.
Life.
As I often say, during the good or the bad, “There goes that Universe again.”
She was still alive in this photo. Posting her dead would have been callous.
RAW Journal Kernels – Fertile
Don’t we all feel this way sometimes?
Carolyn Dennis-Willingham 