Things I’ve Learned This Week.

Aaaaand   ….  it’s Friday again.  They roll around as regular as clockwork, don’t they?!  They turn up, uninvited and then stick around for a whole 24 hours!  Crumbs, if that was someone who was being a pest and kept coming round to see you, you’d soon begin to hide behind the sofa when they knocked on the door!  But Friday is always welcome.  Maybe it’s because it’s a gift.  What do you think? 

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Anyhoo …  we’re here to find out what I’ve learned this week, so put on your full armour. With your breastplate in place.  Take up your shield, and, wearing your helmet, your sword at your side,  gird your loins  . . .   and  . . .   we shall begin with  . . .

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Doris Day.

I’ve been in the mood for a lovely Doris Day film (or films) for weeks.  Every week, when Mr. Cobs comes home from the newsagents on a Saturday morning with the coming weeks TV schedule magazine, I’ve looked through it in the hope of finding a Doris Day film, but none was to be found.

I checked out the scheduling on the TV – and even done a ‘search’ on the TV Menu bit, to see if her name threw anything up.  It did. YAY!!  FINALLY!  However it gave me two movies that I’d have to pay for to watch.

Now a Doris Day movie or two are normally there somewhere so what the heck’s going on?  We have twenty million channels  (ok.  that might be a bit of an exaggeration) … we have enough channels to sink a ship (no, possibly not, but you get what I’m saying here), so why can I only find two Doris Day films, on Netflix, (which we’re not members of) where I’d have to pay to watch those two films?  I mean to say..  it’s DORIS DAY for goodness sake!!  They (the TV folks) put Ms.D. Day films on (normally) all the time.  They fill spaces with them.  So why can’t they fill some spaces for me dogam it?!!   Grrrrrrrr!!!

Well just to spite ’em, I’m going out tomorrow and going to buy as many Doris Day DVD’s as I can and I’ll watch them all day, every day if I want to.  pffft!  Stuff the TV channels.  pffft.

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I learned this week . . . .  That Al Capone’s Business Card said that he was a Used Furniture Dealer.   This new-found knowledge has led me to think that I should get my cat (he’s called Alf Capone – in case you didn’t know) an extra collar tag with that engraved on it. [giggling like mad at the thought]  . . .    Imagine it ….   A cat with an engraved metal tag  . . . .  saying that the cat’s   a ‘Used Furniture Dealer’!    [still giggling myself silly]

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Alf Capone (in hiding).   Used Furniture Dealer

I also learned   . . . .  That a Dragonfly has a lifespan of approximately 6 months.  That’s, of course, presuming that other cat here at The Cobweborium (Princess Tippitoes Maisie Dotes) doesn’t catch it first.

She’s an ever so teeny tiny cat, but she’s a Dragonfly Slayer.  I don’t think she actually means to kill them,  and in fact I don’t think SHE herself, does.  But she does bring them home,  . .  they’re so quick-moving,  and they make an attractive noise to her,  and they are a little sparkly in sunshine,  – so as far as she’s concerned, they were made just for HER.

However, when she brings them home, her brother, Alf Capone – Used Furniture Dealer, then steals them from her  (if I don’t get there first)  and sadly . . .  he does ‘the deed’.

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Princess Maisie Dotes,  on Fairy Watching Duty.

I’ve found out this week (and so ‘learned this week’)  that a snail can sleep for 3 years.  Now if this is true … WHY DON’T THE BALLY SNAILS IN MY GARDEN SLEEP FOR 3 YEARS AND LEAVE MY PLANTS AND FLOWERS ALONE???!  (I shall be talking to God about this when I chat with him later, and, I can confide in you, that I’m a bit grumpy about this matter.  A very bit grumpy indeed!).

I learned a very important Life Lesson this week too:  ….   –  after a long break from using my BIG BEASTY sewing/embroidery machine  I got the (bloomin’ heavy) machine out (well actually no, that’s a lie.  It’s too heavy so Mr. Cobs has to get the machine out,  and put it up onto the table for me), I set it up, take half an hour to remember how to thread the machine so that it self threads the needle … then remember how to select all the settings;  then get the right presser foot;  double-check that I’ve got the right colour in my bobbin . . . and FINALLY set to in the sewing   . . .  AND THEN . . .  just two flowers into the stitching and feeling a warm happy feeling thinking that I’d ‘still got it’ . . . just at that point where the glow of happiness was surrounding me like a golden, heavenly halo and I could almost hear the Angels singing,   . . . . .  S.N.A.P.!

The ‘rasser frazzer grisser bazzer’ needle breaks and I find I don’t have any spare ones left.

[great  BIG  s.i.g.h].  It’s now 7.45pm and the shops where I could get a box of needles from are all now closed for the night.   I had to un-thread the needle, and put away the cotton back in the cottons box.  Then sadly put away of all the bits and pieces of my machine, and hope that I can get some spare needles in the right size in a couple of days time, so that I can do it all over again.  [double sighs and thinks  of as many great BIG swear words as possible… just doesn’t say them].  The moral to this tale is:  To always go and buy new needles for your sewing machine the moment you use the LAST BUT ONE needle.  Don’t wait.  Don’t think that you have one needle left and that you have loads of time to buy a new pack.  Go straight away and buy new needles, because if you don’t, the minute you put that very last needle into you machine  . . .   S.N.A.P.!  Then where will you be?

 And finally …

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I’ve learnt this week that Tesco own brand of ‘Easy Seal Ice Cube Bags’ – those bags which you fill with water, put into the freezer and they turn that water into individual ice cubes, ‘those’ bags.   Well I found out this week that they’re suitable for use in the freezer!  That’s a bit of luck, isn’t it?!!

I’ve learnt quite a lot this week….  can you tell I’m more cleverer than I actwally woz last week?  🙂

Oh .. Oh … I nearly forgot …  I learned that you should always leave folks laughing .. so with that in mind I thought I’d do my best cheesy jokes … get ready ’cause these are my bestest ever:-

There was an explosion in the Cheese Factory! . . .  There was de Brie everywhere!

What did the Queen say when a man threw cheese at her?   . . .   “How dairy!”

Why didn’t the cheese want to get sliced?   . . .   Because he had grater plans.

How do you handle dangerous cheese?   . . .  Caerphilly.

Which Cheese is made backwards?  . . .   think about that one and I’ll tell you in a minute.

What kind of cheese would you use to try to disguise a small horse?   . . .  Mascarpone.

Which cheese would you use if you wanted to coax a bear down from a tree?  . . .  Camembert.

How did Mr. Cheese paint his wife?   . . .  He Double Gloucester.  (for those outside of the UK,  you say Gloucester like this:  Glosster.  now say the answer to the joke again and you’ll get it then).  Link: Gloucester Cheeses

And finally ..  back to Which Cheese is made backwards?  . . .  the answer is …  Edam.  Get it?

Have a truly fabulous Friday I hope that today leaves you feeling happy, tired, and ready for a nice weekend doing something you enjoy.  Remember to make a memory along the way.

Look after each other.  Be kind.  Try to make someone happy.  And … whatever you’re doing  and  where ever you go,  may your God go with you. 

Blessings, my friends ~

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Things I learned this Week

Welcome to this weeks ~ Lessons in the art of Life ~ . . . as per Cobs.

Well, I’ve learnt an assortment of lessons this week.  Some of them welcome, one of them tiresome and others that are just snippets of “well I never knew that”!

I have learned that Virgin Media (who supply my cable, TV, broadband and telephone –  i.e. the whole kit and caboodle) can keep you ‘holding’ on the phone for an INORDINATELY long time (i.e. 1 hour 35 minutes) when you call them to tell them that you’re planning to disconnect from them and go to another supplier if they don’t get their act sorted out and change back the monthly charge to what I was paying before they hoiked the charge up by £39.49 per month.

Because I’m a clever, canny lass when it comes to negotiating new deals, I keep an almost blow-by-blow account of what was agreed, and get the FULL name of the person I was doing the deal with and even make a note of the time the call began and ended  ….  Virgin couldn’t do anything but remove the extra charges for the rest of the term of our contract.  However, in an effort to make things as difficult as possible, they (Virgin) passed me from pillar to post, one person after another,  possibly in the hope that I’d get either annoyed or tired and put down the phone.  I didn’t.  I don’t.  And, unlike Mr. Cobs, I don’t lose my temper either.  I, in fact, get calmer and c.a.l.m.e.r. until I’m ultra calm and laid back,  ….  but ever-so-much more determined that I am going to get the result I require.

I learned from this experience this week that Virgin might waste a bit of my time by keeping me listening to music(? that term is questionable for what I was listening to), but ultimately it is they who will be jumping through the hoops when it comes to keeping THIS customer happy.

I also learned this week that I actually can still work in my craft room – sort of – when there is no electricity to be found in there at all.  Although – it’s a much quieter sort of crafting and I don’t particularly like it very much.

The electrics in my craft room suddenly tripped on Wednesday and nothing would or could get the electrics to work again.  It’s apparently something to do with one of the sockets in there.  Fortunately my craft room is a completely separate building from the house (in our detached, converted garage) so the house electrics are fine.  Our Electrician called out on Wednesday to see if anything needed to be ordered, and he’s back again Friday (today) to [hopefully] fix the problem.  While he’s here I’m getting him to put some new spots in the ceiling as the ones that are there were fitted by Noah when he arrived in the harbour, sailing on his big boat, so they’re old and need changing. (The detail about Noah fitting the current lights might not actually be totally true).

I’ve also learned some random facts about life in general, which I’m not sure will ever impress anyone or even if I’ll ever need these intelligent bits of information, but I know them now so in the interests of sharing the knowledge and joy I’ll show you what I learned…

The Sun is (roughly) 400 times larger than the moon.  It looks, to us here on Earth, like the moon and sun are the same size, but that’s simply because the Sun is (approximately) 400 times further away from us, which creates the illusion that the Sun and Moon in the sky above, are the same size!

Your brain weighs about 3 pounds. Of that, the dry weight is 60% fat, making your brain the fattiest organ!   Twenty-five percent of the body’s cholesterol resides within the brain.  Cholesterol is an integral part of every brain cell. Without adequate cholesterol, brain cells die.  GASP!  Who knew?!

Ninety minutes of sweating can temporarily shrink your brain as much as one year of aging.  Your brain is 73% water. It takes only 2% dehydration to affect your attention, memory and other cognitive skills.

No one knows for sure, but the latest estimate is that our brains contain roughly 86 billion brain cells.  Each neuron connects with, on average, 40,000 synapses.  A piece of brain tissue the size of a grain of sand contains 100,000 neurons and 1 billion synapses all communicating with each other.  Babies have big heads to hold rapidly growing brains. A 2-year-old’s brain is 80% of adult size.  Teen brains are not fully formed. It isn’t until about the age of 25 that the human brain reaches full maturity.

Brain information moves anywhere between 1 mph and an impressive 268 miles per hour. This is faster than Formula 1 race cars which top out at 240 mph.  Your brain generates about 12-25 watts of electricity. This is enough to power a low-wattage LED light.  (NOW THERE’S AN IDEA FOR MY CRAFT ROOM! … aw, no, that’s a ‘normal’ brain, not just one brain cell – which is what I have).

The average brain is believed to generate around 50,000 thoughts per day. Disturbingly, it’s estimated that in most people 70% of these thoughts are negative.

Our attention spans are getting shorter. In 2000, the average attention span was 12 seconds. Now it’s 8 seconds. That’s shorter than the 9-second attention span of the average goldfish.  Yes, really!

Brain cells cannibalize themselves as a last-ditch source of energy to ward off starvation. So in very real ways dieting can force your brain to eat itself.

In spite of what you’ve been told, alcohol doesn’t kill brain cells. It “only” damages the connective tissue at the end of neurons.

Memories are shockingly unreliable. Emotions, motivation, cues, context and frequency of use can all affect how accurately you remember something.

Memory is more of an activity than a place.  Any given memory is deconstructed and distributed in different parts of the brain. Then, for the memory to be recalled, it gets reconstructed from the individual fragments.  Like a jigsaw in a box.  You have to reconstruct the photo on the front of the box.

Do you feel even more clever now?

Random Quote I read for the first time this week and HAVE to agree with:

  • For disappearing acts, it’s hard to beat what happens to the eight hours supposedly left after eight of sleep and eight of work.
    – Doug Larson –

And finally …

Two words.  If you haven’t already met ‘her’ on the internet or on You Tube …   DR. PIMPLE POPPER!

OH.  MY.  DOG.!!!  

If you haven’t ‘met’ her name before, then please make sure that A) you aren’t squeamish about pimples being popped and watching when they ‘go’.  B) that you haven’t just eaten.  Then, after checking that you’re ok with these two things  ….  go to YouTube and put her name in the search bar:  Dr. Pimple Popper  or …  Dr. Sandra Lee (her real name).  She’s a real Doctor, not just some woman who pretends.  So she knows what she’s doing.

My Goodness Me!    When I watched a video I had to work out if I was feeling light-headed or sick.  But … once you’ve watched a little and realised that you’re OK and not about to pass out  …  then it becomes like a car crash.  You HAVE to look.

I was aware that my face was contorting and I was pulling a face that I’d perhaps describe as   EEEK!  and  ICK! combined into one new strange facial expression, but I continued to look.

Never knew about her before …  But I thought I’d share her with you so that you too can experience the EEEK with the ICK! which your face will no doubt do too!

Well … from spots and pimples to brain facts, Virgin Media and to that loss of Electricity, which, I hope, that by the time you’re reading this, our fabulous Electrician will have found the problem, sorted it out and everything will be back to working tickety boo!  All that will be left to do then is to put my beautiful craft room back together again.  (Everything had to be moved so that he (electrician) could get easy access to all the sockets – you would not believe it but half of my craft room is currently in my conservatory and what didn’t fit in the conservatory is in Little Cobs room!)  I’ll be so glad when it’s all put back and I’m then back in my rightful place.  Queen of the Craft Room.  (well… my craft room at any rate). lol

Thank you so much for coming and spending a coffee time with me.  I’m so blessed to have so many lovely blogging pals, and I cherish each and every one of you.

OH and  … a big, hearty  Hello to a couple of new followers who have joined our lovely blog here.  I won’t name names but .. please don’t stay a stranger.  Read and feel free to comment.  It’s via your comments that we get to know each other and we actually all really do end up as friends in blog-land.  It’s what makes blogging such a brilliant place to be.

Have a fabulous Friday my friends  … and …  pray for the very next person you see on the street.  If you don’t pray, then wish something wonderful to happen to or for that person.  Push the prayer or the good  wish out of your head and out into the universe.  Let’s all do something good.

We can’t help everyone . . .  but  everybody  can help  someone.

Sending you my love, and an extra special squidge ~

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Things I Learned This Week.

I’ve learned that I love my postman and that I appreciate him and the job he does even more than I ever realised I did.

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Postman Pat and Jess the cat, picture courtesy of the BBC

When we first moved into this property we originally inherited a postman who … erm … how can I say this...  …   who really ‘wasn’t up to scratch’.

The chap spent the whole of his post round talking to his friends or partner on his mobile phone.  You would have thought that phone was super-glued to his face and would have to be surgically removed.  I had to speak to him one day (he’d delivered a letter that wasn’t only not for our address but not even to anyone in our area), he still didn’t remove his phone from his ear.  He just took the letter, shoved it into his post-bag,  carried on gossiping in his phone and didn’t acknowledge me in any way at all.  You’d have thought I didn’t exist!  I did question if I was perhaps invisible – but Mr. Cobs assured me I was clearly visible, and that  the postman was ignorant and obviously without manners. (telling me!)

Then, after a time, the post office did the thing they do now and again, and swapped all the post men/women around and gave them all new routes.  So we got a new Postman, and he has been amazing.  He’s a thoroughly lovely chap.  Looks out for people and if he hasn’t seen someone for a few days then he’ll check up with neighbours to make sure that Mrs. So and So is ok, or that someone has seen elderly Mr. Xyz.  AND … he puts regular letters in the little post box, but bigger things go in the hidden parcel box to the side of the porch.  Sometimes, if he has time and he knows we’re in, he’ll knock the door and actually bring them to us, have a moments chat etc.

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our post box on the front of our cottage, and below it is the metal newspaper/magazine ‘roll’ where they can be stashed until we collect them

However … we’ve had another delivery man this past couple of weeks and he’s been shoving all sorts of things in our little post box – which is designed for letters – not parcels, packages or magazines.  There’s a metal ‘thing’ below the post box for magazines and news papers.  But no, he didn’t use that.  There’s even a parcel box, water-tight with a well-fitting lid, positioned out of the rain and hidden from general view … even with a blackboard by the front door telling a post man/woman where it is but did he use it?  No.  He shoved all manner of things into the post box which really didn’t fit.  Mr. Cobs had the divil of a job getting one thing out because he’d pushed it so far in that it was jammed in there and himself was there huffing and puffing trying to get this item out without damaging whatever was inside it!

THEN … at the start of this weekOUR POSTMAN WAS BACK ON DUTY!  YAYAYAYAY!!!   [doing the happy dance].  Mr. Cobs was in the front garden when Mr. Postman turned up with letters.  Mr. Cobs said he’d never been so glad to see someone as he was at that moment, even telling the Postman that.  The postman said that he’d been on holiday.  Mr. Cobs told him how we’d missed him, what a nightmare the temporary chap had been, and that he wasn’t allowed on any more holidays.  lol.

I knew I loved our postman …  but now I love and appreciate him even more than I did before.  I just hope the post office doesn’t do the change around thing, because we’d all miss him dreadfully in the area where I live.

I learned this week that when you suddenly find yourself singing and humming a song which you used to know all the words of but have forgotten most of them, and actually haven’t heard that song for ages and ages, – I’ve learned that the one thing you really shouldn’t do is go in search of the song on You Tube so that you can listen to the song all over again.

You see … if you do, you won’t be able to STOP SINGING THE  *#&%!+*  SONG after that and, when you’re lying there, in the dark,  it will thoroughly get on your very last nerve at 3am in the morning when you can’t stop the darn thing playing over, and over, and over, ad nauseam inside your head! 

Please … enjoy the song before you go any further in your reading…

I used to sing this song for and to the amusement of our two girls when they were little.  They thought it was funny and would join in, singing in their little girl voices which quickly turned into giggling and falling about laughing.

But many, many years later – with one daughter now in her thirties and the other in her late twenties – that song, although I still love it to the moon and back,  should not be an ear worm and keeping you awake at 3am on any day! (I still love the song, and NO ONE, in my opinion, could ever adequately ever fill the role which Carol Burnett played in the film Annie,  for she was THE best actress for that role).

This week I’ve learned that …  if I  hurry up  just a little, I can take a shower and wash my hair in ten minutes.  Now this upset me because I had guessed that I was doing it in about 6 minutes,  but no.  TEN MINUTES!  Cor, what a waste.  I’ve got to improve on that time.

No, I’m not planning to enter the Shower Olympics in four years time, but I swear that I used to be in and out of the shower in a lot less time than ten minutes, and this really has kind of ‘upset’ me.  Is this more disturbing evidence that I’m growing old and cannot move fast even in the shower?  Hells Bells!  So right now … I’m in Training.  I have to improve my time to shower and wash hair.  I’ll keep you posted.

This week I’ve learned that I will NEVER, EVER, EVER get to that magical, mythical moment of having …  AN EMPTY IN-BOX  on my email account.  I seem to get almost there … just a few more emails to open ….  and the phone rings… by the time I’ve got off the phone 400 new emails have arrived and I’ve got to start all over again.

I don’t visit my email box every day.  I know that statement might make some of you gasp, but … well …. I have better things to do than open that email account up and spend an hour trying to sort through emails.  I visit my emails say, maybe 2 or 3 times a week.  The rest of the time I’m off doing something far more enjoyable which has nothing to do with computers or tinternet.  I don’t ‘do’ Fakebook.  I’ve actually got a Twitter account but I don’t ‘get it’.  What can you say in 140 characters which would be worth reading?

I’m going to the shop.  I’m back from the Shop.  I bought a cake.  I ate my cake…  here, have a picture of an empty plate.  I’m out with friends, having a great time. (Can’t be that great if you’re sending messages to Twitter). No…  I really don’t get the pull of Twitter. I’m just obviously not a Twit.

And finally …  I’ve learned this week, at around 3.30am one morning, when I was trying to go to sleep with an ear worm going round and round my brain,  that if someone with money and know-how doesn’t invent some sort of gadget or machine which will deliver an electric shock to a snoring husband,  the minute they start to snore too loudVERY SOON …  I’ll bally well do it, and I have just the person to test it on as well.

I love him like no one else, to the moon and back a gazillion times plus tax,   but I swear that I won’t tickle him next time to stop him snoring  roaring and rumbling like a lion,  I’ll buy a new bed just for me and put it in the spare room …. along with a lock on the door so that he can’t come and find me.   I’ll just stick a note on the outside of the door saying …  Do Not Disturb.  🙂

I had a trick which worked until four nights ago, when it stopped working.

You can try it if you have a snorer…  Imagine that you’re tut tut tut tutting a cat or a dog by kind of pulling your tongue off the roof of your mouth, quickly, over and over. You can do it softly, or you can do it loudly.  It’s supposed to work with around three tuts.  But I always found it took four or five loudish tuts.  It’s a sound which brings a sleeping snorer just up to the surface (but doesn’t actually wake them up) and stops them snoring.  And it worked brilliantly, but sadly it doesn’t work any longer. 

So … someone better invent the electric shock thing soon.  I swear to dog that they’ll make mega bucks from it.

Well, I’ve learned a lot this week.  phew!

So … what about you?  Have you learned anything that you’d like to share with us all?  Oh … and how long does it take you to shower and wash your hair?  Don’t guess the time, because I did that and was totally wrong.  Time yourself…  then come back and tell me.  We’ll compare notes.

Sending you loving wishes for a wonderful Friday, and hoping that your weekend is filled with peace and love.

Be nice to each other.

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Things I Learned this Week . . .

What have I learned this week?  Well I’ve learned quite a few things, and I share them with you here so that you will learn what a person of little brain does and then not do these things yourselves.  I’m actually considering asking the Government if perhaps they should sponsor me as a kind of warning to all humans.  I wonder if they’d buy the idea?

Anyhoo … down to business, . . .  shall we?

I’ve learned not to absently mindedly pick, pull and scrape at all that dried on glue gel which coated the pad of my thumb a few hours before and as it dried, numbed the feeling on my thumb.  I learned while engrossed in watching a film, that  what feels like there’s still glue there,  actually isn’t.   I didn’t realise at the time that what I was actually gently peeling off my thumb, was little strips of numbed SKIN,  off the pad of my thumb!  I’d share a photo of the damage  which ‘an idiot with no supervision’  can do to herself,  however,  I respect you too much, and there’s no way I’m putting you through the trauma!

Ouch

I’ve learned that you need to use that pad of your left thumb ever such a lot, – more than you ever dreamed you do, (even if you’re right-handed like me)  and when it’s injured/damaged, you can’t use it because it hurts like billyo when you try to unscrew the top off a jar, or (even more hellish) the top off the lemonade bottle.  All those ridges on one of those tops are there for you to get ‘purchase’ on the lid.  However, with a damaged thumb, they are a form of SELF INFLICTED TORTURE!

 

I’ve learned that baking HOT weather plus pain, do not make great bosom buddies, and the knock on effect is that it makes one very short-tempered.  Thankfully saying sorry isn’t something I find difficult to do.  I’ve had a lot of practise.   🙂

hot

And finally …

I’ve learned that we are all made of stardust.  Yes.  You read that correctly.  Human beings are all made of stardust.

No, I didn’t believe this either,  but it peaked my interest,  so I went in search of information which would help me to learn if this was true. So I went to NASA.

Guess what I learned   . . .   we actually really are made stardust!

I know that sounds like I’m at the start of a fairytale or some long-held myth, but I’m not. This incredible statement has facts to back it up.

Now I won’t bore you to tears with a long explanation but I do need to explain a little, so pin back your lug holes and pay attention.  (There will be a test at the end) …

Once upon a time,  when the Universe was nothing but a young baby, it was made of hydrogen and helium atoms. These two things are still responsible for over 98% of the Universe’s mass, but the heavier elements were created in stars.

The very first generation of stars  didn’t have planets orbiting them, (except maybe gas giants made purely of hydrogen and helium, but without enough mass to ignite like stars do). What happened in those first stars and is still happening in stars today is a process where lighter elements fuse (or ‘change’) into heavier elements with the help of gravity pressuring them together (Imagine  kind of  modging two balls of clay or dough together so that they look as if there was only ever just one) and this process turns protons into neutrons.   This ‘thing’ process is called the  stellar nucleosynthesis(remember this word, you’ll need it again in a minute).

OY!!  Stop gazing out of the window you, at back of the class!  Pay attention please, you’re learning something here for free!  There are some people have paid a pound or possibly more (!)  to learn this stuff in posh colleges and fancy universities!

stardust

When stars start running out of hydrogen (which it needs in order to turn it into helium), at their core they start producing heavier elements from their helium supply.

Then,  after time,  they begin creating even heavier elements;  then heavier;  and heavier. This process finally ends when the chemical element IRON is created.  It’s at this point that the star has sadly run out of fuel.

Stars which aren’t as massive will deplete their fuel before their core becomes iron, but the point is that all elements up to and including iron, are created in stars in  nucleosynthesis.  (See… told you to remember that word.  There it is again!  Get ready … because it’s putting in another appearance in a minute).

Any of the elements which are heavier than iron are produced in a couple of moments after the very massive star with an iron core has collapsed under its own weight. This is what’s called  supernova  – and the creation of elements during this process is supernova nucleosynthesis. (Told you it would pop up again!)

Now … by mass, we are made of:-  65% oxygen, 18% carbon,  10% hydrogen  and 7% other elements. There are no helium atoms in the human body. This means that 90% of your body was made of elements that never even existed before the first generation of stars created them. So yes,  we are made of stardust.  (And what’s more …. some of the atoms inside our bodies were made in supernova explosions that happened billions of years ago).

You learn something new every day that you know me, don’t you?

I wonder what little gem you’ll remember from todays lessons.  <nods in agreementYeah  … I reckon it will be the glue on the thumb thing too.

So … are you all singing the  Matthews Southern Comfort version of Stardust??  Or are you too young to know about this song?  Either way …. I’ve been and had a search and share it with you here:

Have a fabulous Friday, and may your weekend be wonderful,  and full of stardust. 🙂

Have a blessed rest of your day,  all. 

Sig coffee copy

 

 

Friday Post:- Things I’ve learned this week.

My one brain cell is obviously trying very hard at this remembering lark because looky here . . .   the THIRD Friday Post!  I never dreamed I’d make it past the first one so to be here with the 3rd is nothing short of unbelievable to me!

Last week we did internet vexations This week we’re talking again about ‘lessons’ I’ve learned during the past week.  You need no more introduction from me so I’ll shut up and let you read while you enjoy that … erm  … actually …  what exactly is that which you have there?  C’mon now …   Share it with the rest of the class!

Things I Learned This Week.

1.  I learned that sprinkling salt onto cut tomatoes you’re about to eat is NOT a clever thing to do when you’ve chewed on the inside of your lip.  That salt (yes, even the lo-sodium variety because that’s what I use) will suddenly become a product of the DIVIL,  and will make you pull a face like a sucked lemon due to the unique pain you  WILL  suffer when that salt and your chewed lip meet for the first time.  What occurs when they become acquainted is nothing like  a meeting made in Heaven.  You know that brain freeze pain you get when you eat a too big a spoonful of ice cream?  WELL IT’S WORSE THAN THAT, let me tell you!!   Moral of this story  . . . don’t chew your lips!

2.  I learned that I’m obviously the only driver on the road, where I live in my corner of the UK, who has read and remembers how to ‘operate’ the  Highway Code.

The ‘ejits’ who are obtaining a driving licence nowadays are obviously getting them  via  Christmas  Crackers and/or Lucky Bags, and don’t realise that those types of licences really aren’t legal!!

They’ve either never read the Highway Code or, if they have, they’ve forgotten most of what’s written in there, and especially  a) that you mustn’t cut corners at junctions.

Highway Code And b) they know nothing about passing parked cars  [which are parked on ‘their’ side of the road],  and how they should wait and give way to the on-coming traffic, before THEY try to squeeze their car and bully their way, at speed, along the road causing the on-coming traffic to slam their brakes on;  skim the kerb (and leave half a ton of tyre rubber behind);  or mount the kerb in order to keep their (my) car in one whole, undamaged piece.  grrrr!

cursing

3.  Due to point Number 2 above:   I learned that I know some curse words I didn’t think I knew, – and have also found I have an ability to invent other curses which I don’t think have been invented yet, – but I heard them all pop out of my mouth because of some idiot, rat-fink, ‘youth’ I doubted the parentage of,  who nearly took the side off my car.

And finally …  although why I’ve left this to the last one I don’t know, for it is the one which  . . .  aw, no.  I won’t give the plot away.  I’ll let you read it for yourself.

4.  SPIDERS.  I could leave it right there . . .  but I feel you need to hear the drama which spiders have caused this week, here in my little cottage.    And also, by blogging about it,  there will be dated written evidence, if the police should need it, of how these bl**dy creatures are planning to terminate me!

Spider

Dearest readers ...  I hope you know nothing about the horror of the rigor mortis fear which happens,  when,  in the darkness while laying in your bed at 2am in the morning, in the heat of  a sticky summers night, with just a cotton sheet covering only the lower half of your body . . .  you become aware of something moving over your skin.  You feel  every. single. one. of the slow foot steps of …  a big spider walking over your back.

(ahhhh ….  come out in a cold sweat have you? . . .  read on, dear reader, read on) . . .

I lay comfortably in bed,  on my left side,  not quite asleep  – but not really awake either.  It was 2am in the morning.

I felt … a sort of gentle,  ticklish feeling on my upper back.  In my tired, sleepy headed state I remember thinking that it was a hair which had escaped the ‘twist’ I make with my hair every night.

I always collect my hair at the back of my neck, twist it round and then hold the twist of hair up on my head while I settle down on my pillow.  It keeps it all  out-of-the-way  on hot nights.

Suddenly,  a thought  WHIZZED  through my mind like a bullet being shot from a gun, – my eyes popped wide open and I froze.

I . couldn’t . move.  Fear held me in a freakish suspended moment.

My mind was racing.  My eyes, I swear,  were the size of saucers.   You see . . .  I realised that the ‘hair’ I thought I’d felt falling on my back,  couldn’t be a hair.  

Why?   Because if it was,  it wouldn’t have been  falling  UPWARDS.

NOTHING  . . .   falls  . . .   UP

My brain was now fully alert, racing at a million miles per hour,  and trying to come up with a  plan.

I considered shouting out for Mr. Cobs to rescue me from this assassin which came in the middle of the night   … but he was deep in sleep and snoring so loudly that I doubt very much that The Band of the Coldstream Guards playing right next to him would have woken him up.

Besides which … I actually couldn’t make any sounds other than:  Ehhh.  OahhhArrrr.  Ehhr.  Uh uh.  – and none of these sounds made up the sentence:-

“Dearest one, could you possibly raise yourself from the depths of your slumbers and gently cup this little rascal on my back who’s having a round of that famous song:  ‘You put your left legs in, your left legs out, in out, in out, y’ shake ’em all about.  Y’ do the hokey cokey and you turn around, and that’s what it’s all about!’.”

Which, obviously, was what I was trying to say.

I’m scared witless of spiders.  I’ve never been able to co-exist with them.  I won’t kill them because … well … I don’t believe in killing anything.  However, right at this point I’d have welcomed James Bond (Daniel Craig version please) as my hero who rescued me from the deathly grips of this eight legged creature.  (Who am I kidding … I’d have welcomed ANYONE at that point who could have gathered up that beast and thrown him out of the window!).

I could feel this thing making its way up to my left shoulder.  My time was running out.  The panic within me at this point was so huge, so big, so wide, and inside my head I was screaming blue murder.  I HAD TO DO SOMETHING.  I HAD to stop this creature from walking up my neck and onto my face – because,  something inside me said,  if he got to my face then I was going to die of panic, fear and shock.  My heart was pounding SO hard that I could feel each beat in my throat.

Thoughts were racing through my head so fast and just the one shone out as being the only one which had any merit…..

I rolled,  gently and as slowly, so as not to alert this vile creature to my plan,  onto my tummy, but fast enough so that the spider didn’t have time to get onto my neck.  My upper shoulder was now hanging just over the edge of the bed … and with my hand (of the arm now trapped under my upper-chest),  I SWOOPED it over my shoulder and cupped my hand so that it would scoop this little blighter off my back and onto the floor.

Straight away I turned my bedside lamp on and looked down at the floor.  Nothing.  Couldn’t see a thing.  No Spider!   I looked over to where the dog sleeps in her bed, next to  me.  I held my breath, waiting to see if I could see a spider running for dear life.  Nothing. I sat up in bed and looked around … nothingOH.  MY.  STARS!  Was he still in the bed with me???

I got out of that bed faster than I knew I could move and quickly lifted each pillow and waiting for just a second to see if anything ran.  Nothing.

I lifted the sheet.  Nothing.

That little b*gg*r was nowhere to be found.

Was He Hiding In My Hair???  I grabbed my comb from the dresser and combed and combed and combed.  From every angle, and frankly, I’m surprised I’m not bald.

I climbed back into bed … and for a while I first sat there, then lay there with the light on.  Terrified.

What if it came back and hid spiders eggs inside my ear?

What if it came back and made a spider’s web over my face? 

What if it came back and . . .  on and on. One scenario after another.  At around 4am I turned off the light and went to sleep.  (but not before I’d double checked the floor again – for around the fourteenth time).

The following morning … I told Mr. Cobs about my tormentor and asked him if he would do me a big favour and vacuum all around the bedroom, under the bed, behind the bed head, around the edges of the skirting board, the bunting hanging against the wall behind the bed … I gave him a list of all the places I thought a spider might choose to hide,  … and you name it, bless his heart,  he vacuumed it for me.  He said he found  nothing.

No, he wouldn’t.

Of course he wouldn’t.

He wouldn’t ….  Because that  &*%$£#  spider had re-located to the bathroom!   And later that morning, … when I was brushing my teeth,  I looked into the mirror over the sink and saw . . .  THAT BL**DY, BU££ERY SPIDER  (or one of its henchman)  DROPPING DOWN FROM THE CEILING, ABOUT TWO INCHES AWAY FROM THE RIGHT SIDE OF MY HEAD!  It was clearly aiming for my shoulder.

I have honestly never ever screamed so loud in all my life.  Over and over and over again I screamed out Mr. Cobs. name.   The bathroom door had the lock on.  The spider was between me and the bathroom door, and there was no way that I could reach around it to get to the door,  without it falling onto me.

Mr. Cobs was now at the bathroom door, banging on it and trying to open the door,  yelling, trying to break in and save me from whatever it was which was making me scream like I was.  I couldn’t talk.  I couldn’t tell him what was wrong.  For some reason I was unable to re-direct the effort of my panic to my voice-box and get that working instead.

I had an idea which I could try  … I reached up and with my index finger, I dragged that spiders web ‘string’  towards and over the sink, so that he would land in the sink and I could then safely reach across and open the door.  But NO.  Mr. ‘I’m going to GET YOU’ Spider was having none of it.

What did he do?   HE RAN BACK UP THAT  WEB ‘STRING’ AS FAST AS HIS LEGS WOULD CARRY HIM.  I was totally  PANIC STRICKEN  – he was fast heading towards my hand … –   I lowered my hand quickly and dropped him inside the sink,  but I knew that I had to ‘dis-connect’ myself from his webby string  … so dragged my finger over the edge of the sink, as if wiping it off.  I instantly went to reach for the lock, but all the time kept my eye on the spider … and that monster did what spiders can’t normally do.  HE CLIMBED THE SIDE OF THAT  DAM*ED  SINK!!!  By the time I’d managed to unlock the door and Mr. Cobs launched himself through it … that spider had one huge, chunky  leg already waggling and waving over the top edge of the sink.

Mr. Cobs had hold of me by the shoulders, shaking me slightly, asking me what was wrong.  Why was I screaming?

I pointed to the sink…   I watched and saw his shoulders drop.  I could feel his relief.

Get it out.  Please.  Get it out!”   He pulled a couple of sheets off the loo roll and caught the spider within the folds of it.  “PLEASE MAKE SURE YOU ACTUALLY HAVE IT!  PLEEEEASE  MAKE SURE!”

He did.  He had.  He took it outside to the big bin and deposited it in there.

I.  . . .   HATE.  . . .  SPIDERS.

And they know it.  And now … they’re having a laugh by tormenting me.

I  . . .  HATE  . . .  SPIDERS.

“Hello God, it’s me again.  I wanted to have a word with you about spiders.”

The moral of this tale is …  don’t let spiders know that you don’t like them, because if you do, they’ll torment the living snot out of you.

And these things, beautiful readers, are some of the lessons life has taught me this week.

Has life taught you anything this week?  If so … do share … if only to take my mind off spiders, because all the way through typing this to share it with you, I’ve been itching, scratching, fidgeting and feeling like every bit of ticklish hair touching my body, caused by the ceiling fan spinning around, isn’t a hair but actually a cluster of spiders all popped round to assassinate me. [shudder]

Have a fabulous Friday, and a truly wonderful weekend my friends.  I wish you sunshine, smiles, love, a lack of spiders,  and,  …  if at all possible … a lottery win.  🙂

Sending squidges ~

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