Sunday, February 24, 2013

Got Pediculus humanus?

Adopt the pace of nature: her secret is patience.
                    -Ralph Waldo Emerson 

    No it's not a spell from Harry Potter!
   Whether it's Gun's n Roses singing about it, a Mother praying for it, even a writer wanting to raise their fists in fury at it, patience can at times be appropriately deemed the most valuable unappreciated gift.  Unfortunately it's not on the top ten list of an individual's list of replies to the question if you could wish for anything what would you wish for?  After this week I wish I had a spare box of patience over a stack of cash but please don't misunderstand I didn't get the stack of cash either.
      We are talking a kid with lice filled week, a husband with a painful sinus infection, another kid with a skin infection that included an embarrassing trip to the pediatrician, a I'm not going to do my homework unless you dangle my electronic device over the trash can week, and of course the whip cream of it all the most stressful time of any adults life, the process of buying a house in a low supply market.  Oh, and the cherry is the never-ending rewrite that has me stuck in the first 100 pages of my book.  In the past (and this is not an attempt to brag here) I've been heralded for  the amount of patience I can stretch thin much like my Grandmother's pierogi dough under her ancient wooden rolling pin, but come on a human can only take so much before their whistle blows.
       Yes, that's pretty much what happened as I was combing my daughter's long hair with a four inch plastic fine tooth comb filled with nits (oh my God) discovering the deadline for a bid has passed without any word from our realtor while my husband declares he's done with the whole house thing passing the torch of unlikelihood over to me, a whistle blew in my head.  Not just any whistle but the kind that rivales any Looney tunes train whistle with enough steam issuing forth that indicates a possible combustion.  Well, afterwards something inside of me snapped like a glow stick and with the nit comb in mid air I was infused with the luminescence of patience.  Where did it come from?  When? Why?  How?  I can't answer that but I can speculate over years of imbibing in the most tedious of activities like waiting at a Dr.'s office and watching other people who arrived later than you called back first or asking your child to pick up their backpacks for the millionth time-then yes, I have been well trained in the art.
       Ah, if you believe I won't say it you have another thing coming because here it goes.  Yes, through the art of nit-picking I have been enlightened.  Not only to the reality that there isn't one precaution to lice nor one very effective treatment but more importantly there isn't always a way to prepare for how one will react to the misfortunes of life.  Just as those nasty insects have been around since pre-historic times so has the sometimes elusive concept of controlling our annoyances and it will continue to be a challenge.  Long live the Pediculus humanus!

Was there a time in your life you wished for more patience?

“Hard times build determination and inner strength. Through them we can also come to appreciate the uselessness of anger. Instead of getting angry nurture a deep caring and respect for troublemakers because by creating such trying circumstances they provide us with invaluable opportunities to practice tolerance and patience.” 
― Dalai Lama XIV

Saturday, February 2, 2013

A phrase debunked.


  1. A strong desire to know or learn something.
  2. A strange or unusual object or fact.

  Thank you for that clarification, Google.  Okay, so here it is-curiosity killed the cat. I get it, I have a cat and yes he is curious about all things including hiding in plastic bags, walking second story scary-narrow banisters and licking sharply edged metal cans, but none of these things have killed him.  If they did the entire population of felines would be wiped out!  So is it because cats have nine lives that they manage to arise above their inevitable demise of said curiosity? 

    Interesting that the phrase began as 'care' killed the cat and has since evolved to curiosity.  The word care at the time meant worry or sorrow rather than looking after someone.  Click here for the origin of the phrase.  Somewhere in the ages of whisper down the lane, the word care replaces curiosity and the phrase was filed in the arsenal of ignorance to answer those questions people preferred to avoid. Let's see, Mommy where do babies come from?  Oh sweetie, curiosity killed the cat.  Ten years later 'sweetie' remembers curiosity may kill a cat but doesn't realize her boyfriend is about to get her pregnant.  

      I know, a bit dramatic but you see where I'm going with this.  It's 2013 and we know curiosity is as important to the evolution of our race as organic, all natural foods.  So, all hail curiosity as the champion of ignorance! Let's stop the persecution of cats for their curiosity and kill the phrase instead!