Notes on the Seaworld Tragedy
Beings that weigh 12.3K pounds do not belong in captivity. Period. End of quotation.
Remember that orcas are also known as killer whales. Notice the modifier, people: killer. Was this part of the Disney-fication of the world's oceans, thinking that a trainer could suddenly emerge from the water all healed and ready for the next trick? Please.
I've not watched any of the reports, just the teasers. The networks have covered the story from every possible angle save one: the ethics of keeping these animals in captivity. Oh, it comes down to making money off of them. Excuse me. But no one will acknowledge this reality because it would cause the self-congratulatory entertainment industry to crumble, leaving people to do things like read and plant gardens and travel to destinations where free whales dwell.
It's bad enough that the trainer lost her life to the batsh*ittery of it all, and that someone's daughter, sister or friend is no longer on this side of the vale. It's just as bad that both were exploited to that extent in the name of a buck. I like baths, but would not want to spend my life in the confines of my tub, even with the massaging jets and jasmine or lavender bubbles. Even with the adoration of so many fans, the orca is not happy in captivity, people.
animal welfare,
orcas,
I'm Ba-a-a-c-k: Random Tuesday Notes
The new Swan and Iris went out last Friday. My mind has settled back into its usual contemplative ways rather than shrieking "GET ON WITH IT," so I can write about life in general.
Somehow, it's hard to follow an earthquake. We've had snow, enough to send out the plows. I'm staying home as a public service to keep one less goofy driver off the road.
Been watching the Olympics, or having them on as background noise. Nice opening ceremony with the FIrst Nations history. I just haven't been able to get excited about any of it. Likely the absence of Gordon Lightfoot at the opening ceremonies impacted it. The events that I get geeked over have been relegated to the cable ghetto. The ice dancing was less than thrilling this year. The Russian couple with the sensitivity of a black face show to the Maori need to be stopped.
Looking at seed sites. I want to plant an heirloom garden. Yeah, been hanging with Ms. Austen a lot this winter.
Why did I write that as if it were a bad thing?
swan and iris,
The Earthquake Report, or WTF Wednesday
The loud bang caused no particular consternation. Orion just rolled over in his sleep and kicked the wall or the door, reasoned my 4 AM coffee-less brain. Rolled myself over and settled back into slumber.
Not too long after, sauntered downstairs to exercise. Turned on WGN-TV at 7:30 to get the weather. Up came the map: some twenty miles north of my house lay the epicenter of an earthquake, 3.8 magnitude, that had shaken the area and not a few people at 3:59 AM.
Damage? None to speak of, nor any injuries. Collectively, trains, snowplows, car accidents received blame for the knocked over pictures and rattled windows. Some companion animals were freaked, but no lasting harm done. Orion slept through it, ironically.
I'm still a little surprised myself. One doesn't really expect quakes in the solid and stogy midwest. That's for the west coast as it prepares to knock itself into the Pacific in oh, 5000 years. Elbowing tectonic plates that shake things up just don't happen here, dear.
No wonder we were more shaken by the idea than the event.
Notes from a Snowy Tuesday
It's been snowing since last night. So far, maybe three inches covers the ground, enough to touch things up and make driving a growth experience. The open fields surrounding the house are the wind's sand tray, allowing it to push and pat the snow into swirls and against the back door. The wind also blows the snow over the road, laughing in the face of the road crew's hard work. I made sweet potato muffins for breakfast. I had mine with a smear of marmalade, some good stuff imported from the UK. Thick cut, a little bittersweet. Perfect.
Orion's been out three times to tend to personal business and eat some snow.
The Spouse is working from home, praise be to modern technology. He's in his space. I'm in mine. We have a movie to watch, enough tea and coffee and chocolate to see us through until the roads are rendered passible.
Hopefully, we won't lose power. It gets flukey out here. It goes out for no discernible reason more often than not. It's gone out on days when no wind, no rain, no air conditioning drains it. As if it merely wants to grab coffee.
That sounds good about now.
adverse weather,
Because I Don't Bungee Jump
Some of you may know that I do an e-newsletter, Swan and Iris (swanandirisonline.blogspot.com ).
I don't have that far to go on it. I've found some cool public domain artwork. Heather Carroll of The Duchess of Devonshire's Gossip Guide (georginaduchessofdevonshire.blogspot.com)
graciously joins us for a cup of tea and chat about the Duchess and gossip then and now, and passed along some lovely portraiture of her. I've done some research on bison recipes. I have ideas on what to write about for the other departments.
Why am I procrastinating?
There is no greater thrill than to push a deadline. I don't bungee jump, hate roller coasters, find the vast majority of horror and thriller movies to be a bloodsoaked waste of time. It's safe, and getting on someone's nerves is the worst consequence.
The next issue will be available on February 15, this year. I promise. Just grant me my rush.