It does not surprise me that we adjust our observations and behaviors to fit our own preconceived ideas about the planet, our neighbors, food, child rearing, travel -- in other words, everything. It's hard to turn off a belief system just because some new information landed in your lap disputing what you hold dear.
Still, wouldn't it be nice if, at least on some topics, we worked hard to keep our crusty old minds nimble, so that we could actually acknowledge the possibility that we are sometimes (oftentimes) wrong? Wouldn't it be terrific if we allowed scientific findings to discredit stuff that somehow warped our way of thinking way back when and for who knows what reason?
In my view (correct me if I'm wrong! Even though I'm not wrong!), science is our friend. Research is our tool to a better life. Nothing is impossible, until it is proven to be impossible, but once we have such proof, let's use it! Why get stuck in a rut if you can move forward?
Well, because, I suppose, we grow fond of our ruts.
This is what was on my mind this afternoon, possibly because the day is cool, a little wet and I had a whole load of delivered groceries to scrub in the kitchen sink.
It is not easy to wash, for example, bags of romaine lettuce, given that there holes in those bags and sudsy water makes its way inside and suddenly you notice that the green leaves have bubbles all over them. [So you unpack the lettuce, throw away the bag after washing it of course, because you don't really want to have CoVid in your trash can, or at least I don't want to have it there, then rinse off the lettuce, wondering if you should maybe wash each leaf, then you scold yourself for being compulsive, but hey, perhaps "too compulsive" is better than not compulsive enough? This is when you let your mind drift and take on such topics as calcified thinking and the hope that rests in scientific inquiry.]
And it started off like such a normal day in these very abnormal times!
Up to feed the animals...
... breakfast in the kitchen. Always lots to discuss, to review on these mornings. We used to have quiet breakfasts. Not any more.
I then go to spend the morning with the grandkids. Snowdrop is tired. She blames it on the clock. Something about getting up too early or going to bed too late. Anyway, it's the clock's fault.
Sparrow has no issues with any time piece.
Eventually she revives and plunges into a story.
This is the time when I have to work hard to keep Sparrow out of her play space. There are several strategies for this -- distracting him with some of his favorite characters (Elsa from Frozen is at the top of his list), building with blocks, or better yet -- reading his books of choice. I can always tell if I did a good job in the reading department because the boy then will ask for a reread. And another. And another. [And here's one more new habit that Sparrow introduced to our time with books: when he sees a racoon in a story picture, he has to kiss it. Many times. You would be surprised at how many pictures of raccoons there are in children's literature!]
And then I come home and groceries get delivered and I lose myself in suds.
Evening. I give Ed a choice of supper foods. He picks chicken brats and spinach. That's just a tiny bit funny because we are not meat eaters. We have chicken, in any form, at most once a week. But I'm thinking that the press coverage is a little bit suggestive: all this talk of meat shortages has us reaching into the fridge for chicken sausages, a suddenly coveted item!
And after, we are back with our pop corn with grated parmesan and I stir up a kir (I know, the French would wince at this, since kir is an aperitif and not an after dinner drink) and I sit down to edit the post before sleep takes over.
My thanks tonight? Too many people make the list these days. There is, however, always room to include the scientists, whose work today will shape our thinking (I hope) about everything for years to come.
With love.
Still, wouldn't it be nice if, at least on some topics, we worked hard to keep our crusty old minds nimble, so that we could actually acknowledge the possibility that we are sometimes (oftentimes) wrong? Wouldn't it be terrific if we allowed scientific findings to discredit stuff that somehow warped our way of thinking way back when and for who knows what reason?
In my view (correct me if I'm wrong! Even though I'm not wrong!), science is our friend. Research is our tool to a better life. Nothing is impossible, until it is proven to be impossible, but once we have such proof, let's use it! Why get stuck in a rut if you can move forward?
Well, because, I suppose, we grow fond of our ruts.
This is what was on my mind this afternoon, possibly because the day is cool, a little wet and I had a whole load of delivered groceries to scrub in the kitchen sink.
It is not easy to wash, for example, bags of romaine lettuce, given that there holes in those bags and sudsy water makes its way inside and suddenly you notice that the green leaves have bubbles all over them. [So you unpack the lettuce, throw away the bag after washing it of course, because you don't really want to have CoVid in your trash can, or at least I don't want to have it there, then rinse off the lettuce, wondering if you should maybe wash each leaf, then you scold yourself for being compulsive, but hey, perhaps "too compulsive" is better than not compulsive enough? This is when you let your mind drift and take on such topics as calcified thinking and the hope that rests in scientific inquiry.]
And it started off like such a normal day in these very abnormal times!
Up to feed the animals...
... breakfast in the kitchen. Always lots to discuss, to review on these mornings. We used to have quiet breakfasts. Not any more.
I then go to spend the morning with the grandkids. Snowdrop is tired. She blames it on the clock. Something about getting up too early or going to bed too late. Anyway, it's the clock's fault.
Sparrow has no issues with any time piece.
Eventually she revives and plunges into a story.
This is the time when I have to work hard to keep Sparrow out of her play space. There are several strategies for this -- distracting him with some of his favorite characters (Elsa from Frozen is at the top of his list), building with blocks, or better yet -- reading his books of choice. I can always tell if I did a good job in the reading department because the boy then will ask for a reread. And another. And another. [And here's one more new habit that Sparrow introduced to our time with books: when he sees a racoon in a story picture, he has to kiss it. Many times. You would be surprised at how many pictures of raccoons there are in children's literature!]
And then I come home and groceries get delivered and I lose myself in suds.
Evening. I give Ed a choice of supper foods. He picks chicken brats and spinach. That's just a tiny bit funny because we are not meat eaters. We have chicken, in any form, at most once a week. But I'm thinking that the press coverage is a little bit suggestive: all this talk of meat shortages has us reaching into the fridge for chicken sausages, a suddenly coveted item!
And after, we are back with our pop corn with grated parmesan and I stir up a kir (I know, the French would wince at this, since kir is an aperitif and not an after dinner drink) and I sit down to edit the post before sleep takes over.
My thanks tonight? Too many people make the list these days. There is, however, always room to include the scientists, whose work today will shape our thinking (I hope) about everything for years to come.
With love.
