Memoirs of an Islander

The best way to change the world is through teaching children.

2009-04-14T16:44:00.004+01:00

The past five years have flown past me. It is true that time appears to pass by faster the older one gets. I think having children makes you more aware of this. Only because he changes so fast, growing out of his clothes perhaps every 2 to 3 weeks.

My son is nearly 6 months old now. He is such a bright spark, the light in my life. He smiles and laughs so much now. It has suddenly occurred to me that he has nearly outgrown the baby stage. I have only a few months before he will be walking and saying his first words; toddling.

It is a bittersweet feeling, to watch your child grow. I try to capture every day with my camera. I try to be one with the moment, and savor every second. But the days fill in so fast, and in no time he will be going to nursery school.

It makes me realize I would like to have more children. I think I'd like to foster children too, when I'm in my 40's maybe and my son is a grown man. Of course I've always known that I wanted children, probably my whole life. I've always felt like the best way to change the world is through teaching children. Generation Z are the voters of tomorrow, the politicians of tomorrow, the parents of tomorrow; the future.

Of course you can't control what your children do or how they lead their lives as adults. But your influence, the things that you have taught your child, will be there within their hearts even after you've died.

It must be very hard to let your child go, and except they're an adult.

Our Son

2009-03-27T10:24:00.016Z

It's so good to be blogging again. The last few months have been very busy (and internet-free). I've really missed writing here. A lot has changed in my life since my last post.

My son was born on the eve of Halloween. The radio was on during labour; by chance he arrived to the AC/DC song 'rock and roll train.' I could not have planned it better.

Labour was fast and I managed to avoid using diamorphine. I think the hypnotherapy really helped in pain reduction. I would recommend it to everyone with an open mind; it felt like being in a deep meditation. I was aware of the pain, but it was in no way unbearable. I only had to push three times (some women are stuck at that stage for hours). I left the delivery room thinking "Well, that was pretty easy."

Adam Eason's hypnotherapy for child labour can be found here:
http://www.adam-eason.com/store/natural-hypnotic-childbirth/

So Eddie is 5 months old in a few days. Amazing how fast they grow and learn. He's smiling and laughing now, and already he can roll over and he's nearly mastered crawling. Also, he just started to sit up without any support. Thats our boy!

In other news, our new eco-house finally has been built!
It took 2 years, but we have moved in.
I'll write more about that later.

Self-Sufficiency: the legacy of my grandmothers

2008-08-23T12:41:00.001+01:00

I am lucky, for on both sides of my family I'm only 2 generations away from living completely off of nature. I feel really blessed to have had both of my grandmothers to learn traditional methods of living from. Each lived on opposite sides of the globe, in vastly different climates and geosystems; however the similarities between their self-sufficient childhoods are amazing.

My grandmother from Shetland grew up on a completely self-sufficient croft. Her father was a fisherman, and was away at sea for months at a time. The women of the family ran the croft themselves. I've always admired traditional Shetland women for this fact. While women in the rest of the world were fighting for equal rights, society here was matriarchal.

My Grannie and her mother and sisters kept everything going, and did all the work on the croft. They grew all their own veg (for themselves and their livestock), raised sheep and had some cows. They produced their own milk, butter and cheese. They cut their own peats as fuel for their fires. Her grandmother lived with her as a child, and spun fleece into yarn to make their own clothes. It was true self-sustainable living.

My American grandmother lived through the Great Depression of the 1930's (known in the mid-west of America as the Dust Bowl). As a child, she grew up poor on a prairie homestead in South Dakota, the daughter of a Norwegian immigrant. They had no choice but to be self-sufficient, raising cattle and growing their own veg. This could sometimes be very hard, as the summer climate in South Dakota is arid, with little rain and temperatures could easily reach 40 C.

Her family only went to a town once or twice each year, buying in bulk items like flour and sugar to last them through the long winter. Their home-grown veg was canned or pickled; as was wild deer meat, chicken and other meats. The preserves had to feed them right through the harsh Dakota winters, which could bring severe blizzards, with five foot drifts of snow and temperatures as severe as - 40 Celsius.

Unfortunately my American grandmother now suffers from severe alzheimer's, and I cannot ask her about surviving the Great Depression. All I have is a cookbook she wrote and published, with an introduction she wrote about preparing for the long winters. However, her recipes and food canning techniques will forever be preserved in that cook book, for generations to come.

Thankfully my Shetland grandmother is both mentally and physically able, and still carries all that self-sufficient knowledge with her. I want to learn all she knows, as my generation could be the death of that type of living. If Generation Y does not preserve this information, and keep these traditional methods alive, who will?

"'Where did I come from?' the baby asked its mother.

2008-08-18T13:27:00.017+01:00

She answered, half-crying, half-laughing, and clasping the baby to her breast, "You were hidden in my heart as its desire, my darling. You were in the dolls of my childhood games. In all my hopes and my loves, in my life, in the life of my mother, and in her mother before her, you have lived. In the lap of the eternal spirit you have been nursed and nurtured for ages. "

- Rabindranath Tagore

I don't fear child-birth; why does everyone else?

2008-08-18T11:11:00.015+01:00

Is fear of child-birth a 'normal' thing? Is it instinctive, or is this common phobia a product of modern society? I can't say for sure, but I personally don't think it is instinctive. I can honestly say, I do not fear going into labour. This fact seems to set me apart from most first-time mothers, and makes it hard for me to relate to other pregnant women.

I used to think that perhaps, when I was very close to my due date, I would become frightened of childbirth. With 9 weeks to go, I remain fearless still. What could be more natural than bringing offspring into the world? Every living creature does it; in fact the existence of every organism on earth depends on it.

To me, the hospital setting seems pretty unnecessary for a full-term birth. Although I will be giving birth in a maternity unit this October, I think I would prefer a home birth if I ever become pregnant again. If I still lived in America, I would demand a home birth for my first child as well.

Many people (especially Americans) will consider you mad for considering a home birth. They act as if you are suggesting an 'at home' kidney transplant. I think it is a terrible shame that child birth (and pregnancy for that matter) is treated like a health problem or clinical disorder.

My American grandmother had 9 children, one of which was delivered by my cowboy grandfather (using calf-pulling techniques, no doubt). My British grandmother had four children, two of which she basically delivered by herself, in a small croft down a single-track road. Perhaps their experiences give me strength? My British grandmother will be with me during the birth. She's a very strong peerie wife, and I think her presence will re-assure me more than any doctor. In many ways, she inspires me and gives me strength. I'm so lucky to have her.

Third Trimester Begins

2008-07-30T10:27:00.004+01:00

In 12 weeks time, Mam flies to Shetland for the birth of her first grandchild. I'm really excited about her coming to visit, she'll be here for a whole month! She grew up here, on the isles. Our family lived here when I was a child, but we moved to America in 1993. She came back for a visit in the summer of 2001, that was the last time she was here. It's not enough. I'm so glad that I've given her a reason to come home. I only wish my father and brothers could have afforded to come visit too.

Only 12 weeks until I become a mother, too. I feel very detailed movements of the child within me. I can tell what position the baby is in; where the feet are and where hands are. My stamina is way down, I get exhausted when I walk a mile. I used to be able to walk about 4 or 5 miles without really feeling tired. I try to stay active, but the bigger I get the harder it becomes. I find it really hard to get comfortable too; I sleep on a bean bag instead of a pillow now, as it's more comfortable.

Strange, the reality of it all sinks in now that I'm in my third trimester. I've felt very secure and happy during my whole pregnancy. Now that the time is so close though, insecurities have become present (especially in my dreams). It's probably the same for all first time mothers. Being responsible for the life of a little person is a massive task. I can only hope to be as good of a mother as my Mam and my Grannie.

"COME live with me and be my Love..."

2008-07-21T12:08:00.008+01:00

I thought I'd share one of my favourite poems today, written in the 1590's by English poet Christopher Marlowe.

For me, the verse conjures up images of my love V and I spending our whole lives together; building our own paradise among the wildflowers. The poem makes me think of home, and all of the years I pined away, wishing I could return here.

The Passionate Shepherd to His Love

COME live with me and be my Love,

And we will all the pleasures prove

That hills and valleys, dale and field,

And all the craggy mountains yield.

There will we sit upon the rocks 5

And see the shepherds feed their flocks,

By shallow rivers, to whose falls

Melodious birds sing madrigals.

There will I make thee beds of roses

And a thousand fragrant posies, 10

A cap of flowers, and a kirtle

Embroider'd all with leaves of myrtle.

A gown made of the finest wool

Which from our pretty lambs we pull,

Fair linèd slippers for the cold, 15

With buckles of the purest gold.

A belt of straw and ivy buds

With coral clasps and amber studs:

And if these pleasures may thee move,

Come live with me and be my Love. 20

Thy silver dishes for thy meat

As precious as the gods do eat,

Shall on an ivory table be

Prepared each day for thee and me.

The shepherd swains shall dance and sing 25

For thy delight each May-morning:

If these delights thy mind may move,

Then live with me and be my Love.

Marlowe, C. . "Bartleby". Bartleby.com. 29/06/08 <http://www.bartleby.com/106/5.html>

Killer Whales in Shetland

2008-07-02T10:01:00.005+01:00

Did you know that Shetland has the highest level of killer whale sightings in all of the UK? Neither did I, until I watched the documentary Killer Whales in the UK on BBC2. It does not surprise me though. Last year, the seals on my Grannie's beach declined from about 30 to 5, after a pod of killer whales were spotted nearby. With each whale needing 150 to 300 pounds of seal or fish meat per day, it's no wonder the seals disapeared.

If you would like to see the documentary Killer Whales in the UK (filmed in Shetland), click here to watch it on BBC iPlayer; or here to download it. Also, If you would like to watch BBC's Coast filming their documentary of Shetlands coastline, click here.

The Great British Carrot

2008-06-28T14:39:00.013+01:00

I had been very ill and had no appetite during the first 5 months of my pregnancy. As someone who has developed a great love of cooking, it was terrible. I'm happy to say I've gotten past that stage, and I now can enjoy food again. To celebrate the return of my appetite, I'm planning a four course meal for my partner. I figured, after the baby is born we may not have as many opportunities for a romantic meal together. Besides, he always seems so appreciative when I cook something special for him.

I think anyone who is passionate about cooking will agree; ingredients are everything. Local seasonal produce is essential. When I saw a lovely bundles of locally grown carrots at the market, I had to buy a good kilo's worth. Okay, maybe one of my pregnancy craving happens to be carrots; none the less, I've always loved them. The UK produces fresh carrots 12 months of they year, and you can always find them fresh at your local market -- with a minimum amount of food-miles. Healthy and delicious, I think the carrot is often under-rated.

I've decided to make a soup for the appetizer course, though I've not decided which recipes to use yet. That's why I've post some of my favourite carrot soup recipes today. If you have snobbed carrots in the past, I hope you give some of these soup recipes a try. They are all packed with flavour, and a healthy comfort food.

Roasted Carrot Soup with Herb Crème Fraîche

Roasting early carrots really brings out their flavour. Adding crème fraîche to this vibrant soup is like a guilty pleasure, yet this soup is still a healthy option. It also looks fabulous, and is great as a starter course. This soup is ready in one hour and serves 6 people.

Ingredients:

1 onion , cut into wedges
800g carrots , peeled and roughly chopped
butter
1 bay leaf
1 tsp runny honey
2l vegetable stock cube
200ml crème fraîche
4 tbsp chopped mint
4 tbsp basil
4 tbsp chervil

(1. Heat the oven to 200C/fan 180C/gas 6 and put the onions and carrots in a roasting tin with a few knobs of butter. Roast for 30 minutes or until the veg are tinged brown.

(2. Tip into a pan, add the bay leaf, honey and stock and bring to a simmer. Cook for 10 minutes or until the carrots are very tender, then remove the bay and whizz the lot in a blender until smooth. Sieve if you'd like it really smooth. Season and keep warm.

(3. Mix the crème fraîche and herbs and season. Serve the soup with herbed crème fraîche.

Carrot Broccoli Soup with Thyme

This recipes has been with me since I was a teenager, in America. I always loved the combination of broccoli and carrots. Both high in essential vitamins, this is a highly nutritional soup. The classic savory flavour of fresh thyme completes this. If you only have dried, it will do. However I strongly advise any avid cook to grow their own herbs. It's cost effective and will enhance your dishes ten-fold. You can always find fresh herbs at the market, but you may have to pay dearly for them. Ready in about a half hour, this soup serves 4 people.

Ingredients: (please excuse the US measurements; find detailed conversion charts here.)

2 medium carrots, chopped

2 celery ribs, chopped

1 medium onion, chopped

1 tbsp butter

3 cups fresh broccoli florets

3 cups milk

3/4 tsp salt

a hand full of fresh thyme

1/8 tsp pepper

3 tbsp flour

(1. In a large saucepan oiled (olive oil), fry the carrots, celery onion for 3 minutes.

(2.Add broccoli, cook 3 minutes longer.

(3. Stir in 2 3/4 cups milk, salt, thyme, and pepper. Bring to boil.

(4. Reduce heat; cover and simmer for 5 - 10 minutes or until vegetables are tender. Combine the flour and remaining milk until smooth; gradually stir into the soup. Bring to a boil; cook 2 minutes longer or until thickened.

Cheddar Carrot Soup with Toast Soldiers

I've always loved cheesy soup with a passion, and sometimes I add steamed broccoli or spinach to this recipe. It's easy and versatile, allowing you to be creative. This would be a great option for sneaking carrots into the diet of picky children. Serves 6, and takes about 35 minutes to make.

Ingredients:

25g butter
1 small onion chopped
500g carrots , chopped
1 medium potato , chopped
1.2l vegetable stock
100g mature cheddar , grated
150ml milk

(1. Melt the butter in a large saucepan over a low heat and tip in the onion, carrots and potato. Fry gently for about 10 minutes, stirring from time to time, until the onion is soft and the vegetables are glistening.

(2. Pour in the stock and bring to the boil, then reduce the heat and partially cover the pan. Simmer for about 20 minutes, until the vegetables are soft.

(3. Whizz the mixture in a food processor or blender until smooth (a blender will give a smoother texture), then add the cheese and whizz again. Return the soup to the pan, pour in the milk, then reheat gently and taste for seasoning. Serve the soup with buttered toast soldiers.

Climate Change: reality, not a theory.

2008-06-26T21:08:00.014+01:00

Any Sheltie will tell you, this has been a fantastic year. This May was the driest since records began, the sun shining every single day of the month. The temperatures were between 16 C and 18 C for most of the month (what one would expect perhaps in the height of a Shetland summer, but not in the spring). Although June was not as sunny, the temperatures remained higher than normal. What usually would be a cool fog was thick humidity. Yesterday, my thermometer read 20 C. As the sun does not go down this time of the year, it remained sunny and warm late into the night.

This is the first summer where the effects of global climate change have been really evident to me. However, since I moved back to Shetland I've noticed a remarkable change in the winters. Autumn weather has seemed to remain until January or February. During the last 3 years, our first (and only) winter snow storms did not appear until the spring equinox in March, (only lasting for 2 or 3 days). Even within my short lifetime, I can see the effects of climate change. Talking to my grandmother, she notices a huge shift. She can remember snowy winters, like one would expect in a place so close to Norway and Iceland.

I wonder if my child will be a witness to the death of snow in Shetland all together? Scientists have predicted that climate change will give Shetland more violent storms (see article here) but I've only seen improvement in the weather. I've already seen more than one palm tree planted outdoors in Shetland gardens. I doubt that would have even been possible 25 years ago.

Shetland is not the only place that has seen drastic changes in climate over the past few years. Last year, England faced the worst flooding anyone can remember. It was Britain's wettest May- July since records began. The graphic to the right indicates all the counties effected by flooding last year. As you can see, it's about half of the entire UK! See this video of Yorkshire, one of the worst hit areas. It shows a father and his kids trying to get home, close to being swept away in the current. I guess I'm lucky to live in a place where climate change has only effected us for the better.

This year, the city where I went to college in America also suffered floods of the same epic proportion. Strange, it happened exactly 12 months after the UK floods. It's funny, in America there is still a lot of people (including my older brother) who does not believe in climate change. We were even taught in US primary school (in the 1990's) that it was a 'radical theory' with no evidence supporting it. This is miss-information on a mass scale.

I have not met a single person in the UK who does not believe in climate change. America is made fun of by the global media for their blatant denial of scientific facts, and refusal to join the Kyoto treaty. How much longer can the US ignore what's happening in the world? See this shocking footage of Cedar Rapids, Iowa; houses literally being washed away down the river.

A letter to my unborn child: fathers.

2008-05-31T03:19:00.017+01:00

Dear child;

I can't help but think of the the past, today. I was a very fortunate little girl. Growing up with a mother and father who really love each other is a rare thing for my generation. At the time, I suppose I never thought about it too deeply. However, now that I'm an adult -- a few months shy of being a mother -- I realize how important a father is.

Many people grow up in broken homes; some have never met their fathers. Other parents are there financially, but not physically. I can't think how hard it would be for a child, to watch the two people they love most become full of hate towards one another.

I've never heard your grandparents argue in my life, and they just celebrated their 25th anniversary. Your Grandpa was never absent, when I was growing up; I was fortunate. He worked hard to keep the family going, but was never absent from our lives because of his job.

We were very poor, but I never noticed that until I was about 12. I was never given money hand-outs or an allowance, nor did I ever ask for any. My brothers and I never had cars bought for us, and we knew we would have to pay for college education ourselves. Our lack of money never bothered me though. We had everything we needed, and that was enough.

In the end, its the simple pleasure of spending time together as a family that matters most. My best memories are of family picnics out on the South Dakota prairie; family outings to the sand beaches in Shetland; or working together in my father's large veg garden. Money can't buy those memories.

I'm so glad that I found your father. He's the best friend I've ever had, and our love only grows stronger with time. Your Dad has always been there for me, and he will always be there for you. Like me, you are very fortunate my child. You have parents who really love each other. We share the same dreams, and await your arrival; together.

Love,
Mam

A letter to my unborn child: the pain of seperation

2008-05-30T15:14:00.023+01:00

Dear child;

I dream about our life together, as your little feet prod me from within. I want you to know that I understand how hard it will be, living so far away from your Grannie and Grandpa in America. Being half American and half British was very hard for me as a child. No matter which side of the Atlantic ocean our family lived on, I was thousands of miles away from family.

When I was a child, my family left the home I knew and loved in Shetland and moved to South Dakota, in the mid-west of America. I had lived there before, until about age 4; but had little memories of what life was like there. From the moment we moved into that dilapidated trailer by the railroad tracks, I pined to come back to my home in Shetland. I missed my Grannie and Grandad, and their croft on this rocky island; I missed my cousins as if I had left brothers and a sister behind.

I finally returned to Shetland when I was 19. Exactly 4 years before you were born, I booked plane tickets for Grannie Maggie's birthday. I had been living 600 miles away from my parents and brothers in America while at college. I only got to see them once, maybe twice every year. I think it was easier to say 'goodbye' to them and move to Shetland then, because we were already living so far apart. Somehow I don't know if I would have been brave enough to leave my family behind in America, if we lived closer.

It was a home comming I'll remember forever. I'd returned into the open arms of Grannie Maggie. She helped me achieve my life-long dream; returning home to Shetland. Despite it being the dark days of January, I savoured the rain and the hurricane gales. The fairy-tale beauty of Clousta, seemed pure and ancient. The triumph was laced with bittersweet loneliness, though. I was here, but my Mam, Dad and my brothers were not. I was all alone.

When I'd been home for nearly 3 years, I was preoccupied with my family who were so far away. I had a deep painful yearning to be with them. I was going through a bad bout of depression, and for the first time since I had moved to Shetland I thought about returning to America. I even had a teary discussion with your father about it. He told me he would move to America with me, if it would make me happy. My heart swelled with love for him. I realized then how much he truly loved me. He would follow me anywhere across this planet, just to be with me.

After that, my mood lifted and my mind began to think clearly again. Your Dad carried me through that depression, towards the light. I learned to deal with longing for my family across the ocean. It was only the deep pain I felt in missing them that made me think perhaps someday I would return. I was never really happy in America.

I could never ask your Dad to leave all he knew in Shetland and start a new life in the mid-west of America. I love him to much to put him through that. Also, I couldn't leave Grannie Maggie again; or leave Clousta behind. I had established roots here. This is, and always will be, home.

When I became pregnant with you, my child, everyting became so clear. There is no way I could ever take you away from Shetland. How could I enforce upon you the same pain I felt when I was taken Shetland as a young girl?

I don't know what the future holds, but I already know that you have completed me. You have made your father and I a real family. We are entwined not only with love for each other, but love for you.

Thank you, child.

Love,
Mam

"Regard your good name as the richest jewel you can possibly be possessed of..." - Socrates

2008-04-07T12:47:00.009+01:00

I'm now into my second trimester. It won't be long before V and I will a little baby to name. I'm having an ultrasound soon. Unfortunately (in Scotland) ultrasound technicians are no longer allowed to tell parents the sex of their child.

I decided to make a list of names (and meanings) for both sexes. Strange though, some part of me believes it is a girl.

Girl

Marina: (my mothers name) Latin in origin, meaning 'from the god Mars' or 'from the sea.' ("The name is derived from Marius (from the god Mars), but is identical to the Latin adjective 'marinus' meaning "of the sea", and therefore commonly associated to it.")

Maggie, (form of Margaret): (my grandmothers name) English in origin, meaning 'Pearl.'

Martha: (my cousins name, who died of leukemia) Biblical in origin, meaning 'lady.'

Maryjane: English in origin; 'Mary' meaning 'bitter' and 'Jane,' meaning 'God is gracious.'

Samantha: English in origin, meaning 'listener.'

Shanie: (female form of my brothers name) Hebrew in origin meaning 'God is Gracious.'

Dakota: (where I grew up in America) Native American in origin. ("Dakota is a Sioux word used to denote a certain tribe within the Sioux nation. Dakota is also the name of two U.S states - North Dakota and South Dakota, both originally located in the "Dakota Territory," on which a Sioux reservation was located.")

Boy

Eddie: (form of Edward; my brothers name) English in origin, meaning 'keeper of the treasure' or 'wealth protector.'

Charles: (my brothers name; my uncles name) French form of the German 'Karl', meaning 'free man'.

Wesley: (my fathers name) English in origin, meaning 'western meadow.' ("Historically, Wesley was used in memory of the founders of the Methodist church, John and Charles Wesley. At first, it was principally used by Methodists, but it has since spread to general use.")

David: (my uncle) Biblical in origin, meaning 'beloved.'

Vincent: With roots in Latin, meaning 'conquering.'

Push-Button Web Design

2008-04-04T12:40:00.005+01:00

I think it is amazing how many people blog these days. I have been keeping journals online since 1998 (a whole decade!). When I started "weblog" wasn't even a word. There was a small circle of writers who made their own websites, and published them online. I became a fan of a few writers, and decided to start my own. That is how I taught myself HTML as a teenager.

Now, it is so easy. Sometimes I feel so lazy, using push-button publishing like Blogger. I really enjoy webpage building. The truth is, its easy to build a page like this. The hard thing is making it unique in design. I guess that is me next task.

2 months 1 week

2008-03-13T13:50:00.005Z

I have not been blogging much lately. I've been ill, for nearly a month. It's morning sickness; I'm going to have a baby. It took a while for the reality of it to sink in. Although I'm very happy, the sickness is overwhelming. I can't function.

Terra, an Esper Hybrid

2008-02-01T04:41:00.002Z

::Celes and Terra Fans Unite::

I aquired a Super Nintendo Emulator for my PC, as I'm pretty heavily into retro-gaming (SNES-talgic). I consider it an effective type of therapy. So I have 750+ games on my computer now, and I have only been playing one. I'm 20 hours and 47 minutes into Final Fantasy VI. Playing it brings back so many memories. In the end, Final Fantasy VI is my favourite Super Nintendo game because the characters--and the story-- really spoke to me as a child.

As a child, I always associated myself with Terra (and not just because my brothers always re-named her 'Donna'.) We are both hybrids. She is half Esper / half human. Because her father was a magical beast, she was born with special powers. She bridges two worlds together by her own bloodline.
I too had been torn between two worlds since birth. I'm half American / half Shetlandic. Okay, so I don't exactly have magical powers; nor do I have green hair (anymore.) My Sheltie genes only gave me an elvish stature. Ever seen a Shetland Pony? Shetland people are minature too.

The main reason why I associated myself with Terra is that doubtful, self-critical attitude she has. She was so unsure of herself, just like me.

I found a fantastic shrine to Terra called A Vision of Hope. If you're a huge Terra fan like me, be sure to check it out. This site is obviously made with love.

The Uncle Ulty Cult

2008-01-24T08:13:00.002Z

Final Fantasy VI has been highly praised over the years for the amount of playable characters there are in the game. There are so many great characters. Even the bad guys can be likeable.

Meet the royal octopus who just won't die... Ultros. I've always had a love/hate relationship with this purple scamp. I mean, this guy just keeps showing up; attacking you with his fire magic and octopussy legs. And once you've beaten him up pretty badly, he just says "Th-that's all friends!" Like you are all buddy-buddy. Just when you think you're rid of him, he starts feeling up Terra's leg, and you fight him again.

Later in the game, he tries to 'jam up' the Opera because he 'owes you one' (see graphic). Of course you whip his tenticles again. Surely Ultros is dead...

Of course not. You can't kill octopus royalty that easily. After all, he's got more lives than he does arms. Locke catches the squidball trying to steal goddess statues. This is one of the most hilarious parts of the game; the little girl Relm busts into the middle of your fight...

Relm- "I couldn't miss the chance to practice my drawing! Say, sweetie, who are you?"

Ultros- "How dare you! I'm Ultros!"

Terra- "How dare you bother that little girl! I'm not going to forgive you if you hurt her!"

Ultros- "Well, whadduya want I should do?"

Locke- "Ask her to draw your portrait. She may actually make you look pleasant!"

Ultros- "Oh, all right, Uncle Ulty REALLY wants you to do his portrait!"
Relm- "Hee, hee, hee... You're gonna love it!"

[It's at this point, you see Relm's skill at drawing.

She makes an exact likeness to Ultros and shows him.]

Ultros- "How can this be?

I'm nothing more than a stupid octopus!"

* * *

How delighted was I, when I found a website dedicated entirely to Uncle Ulty; Seafood Soup. I'm not the only one who loves this octopus. A lot of love has gone into transcribing script from the game here. Check it out.

Another Dakota Summer

2008-01-12T18:37:00.000Z

No one could quite recollect the last rain. Grandpa reckoned it was the worst heat wave in 35 years. He was an old cowboy then. His blue work shirt had worn thin from years of toil. The creek over yonder ran dry, leaving catfish to fester under a cruel Dakota sun. Only cracked clay remained. Turkeys roosted on a dying cottonwood tree, like ripe fruit on each stark branch.

Gramps studied the horizon, leaning on the porch banister. The log rail had been smoothed by the hands of our ancestors. No rain clouds, only billows of dust on the lonely prairie. The cowboy shed his battered hat and closed his tired eyes. No one would suspect the ornery cuss (between muttered curses at the dogs) had been praying for rain.

[Just some prose poerty about the ranch in South Dakota my father grew up on. Memories of my American Grandfather, who died slowly of cancer, inspired the piece.]

Donating hair to a chemo patient ...

2008-01-12T18:24:00.000Z

Watching someone you love slowly die is life-changing. Like most people, cancer has touched my life. A few years ago, my 27 year old cousin died of Leukemia. Both of my grandfathers have died of cancer; I have an aunt with breast cancer, and uncle with skin cancer. I need to cut my hair; it keeps getting tangled in my belt. I said the same thing a year ago, but never got around to cutting it. Now its about 27 inches long. I've taken good care of it. It seems like such a waste to dump it all. I've read that a wig can be made out of as little as 6 inches of hair! Anyone with info on donating hair to a chemo patient in the UK, please let me know.

www.leukaemia.org/leukaemia
www.nfcr.org
www.Cancerbackup.org.uk

Clousta Shores

2008-01-12T18:22:00.000Z

To cling on masts in churning seas;
she sings to me seductively.
With every ebb she pulls me more;
where selkies bide on Clousta shores.

In my veins salt water flows;
a new moon pulls me out the voe.
Should a skerry takes my life?
I'll come back as a selkie wife.

SHETLAND MITOCHONDRIAL DNA PROJECT

2008-01-12T18:19:00.001Z

There is a strand of DNA within the mitochondrion organelles of each of our cells that has been passed from mother to daughter since the very first human. I've always found it fascinating that we can each trace out ancestry back to mitochondrial Eve.

I've read pretty extensively on mitochondrial genetics, and how the earths population is related to one another. Now, I'm taking it a step further. I submitted myself to have my own mitochondrial DNA analyzed for the Shetland Mitochondrial DNA Project. It's purpose is to help find genetic cousins and estimate Pictish and Scandinavian ancestry in Shetlands population.

Not everyone who lives in Shetland is eligible. The following Shetland surnames are all found within my maternal lineage, which makes me able to participate: Anderson, Balfour, Cumming, Hay, Jacobson, Leask, Mowat, Nicolson, Tait. A whole list of surnames who are eligible to participate in this Shetland genetics project are available at the following website: http://www.davidkfaux.org/shetlandislandsSurnameList.html

If any of these names appear in your maternal ancestry, you are can be a part of the mitochondrial DNA study. If any of these surnames are in your paternal ancestry, you are eligible for the Y-DNA study.

Anybody have further information about this project? Please comment!

Do you find this type of scientific discussion interesting, like me? You should check out these websites and books:
http://www.davidkfaux.org/shetlandislandsmtDNA.html http://www.journals.uchicago.edu/AJHG/journal/issues/v68n3/002146/002146.html http://www.clan-leask.us/active/index.asp?tlvl=stdy&sctn=ydna

Human Mitochondrial DNA and the Evolution of Homo Sapiens by Hans-Jurgen Bandelt, Martin Richards, and Vincent Macaulay

Ee fir Ene Ee

2008-01-12T18:16:00.000Z

Auld Bertha, shu win up da brae
Dispite her widden leg
An’ in aboot da sheltered piece
Her moorit lamb wis dead.
Abune her head shu saw braa wings
Da culperate o’ dis crime
Da greatest muckle black-back
Shu'd spied in aa her time.

Noo Bertha’s husband Tammie
Wis burried at da kirk
An’ when h’it cam tae shootin’
Shu wisna muckle wirt.
Regardless shu win doon da brae
An’ hocked oot Tammie’s gun
An’ up da brae shu guid again
Her task widna be fun.

Shu had tae kill da black-back
Wha pluckit oot da ees
Auld Bertha aimed doon Tammie’s gun
Da deevil shu could see.
Da weapon gein wi such a blast
it caaed her in da stank
Her widden leg wis laid a bruck
An’ so Auld Bertha sank.

In da bog shu had tae stay
'til idder bodies cam
Aside da a ormals o' da bird
An' Bertha's peerie lamb.

Communication Brick-wall

2008-01-12T18:01:00.001Z

I often have to limit my conversation topics to music and videogames. It's one of those things that people with little in common can bond over. Talk about death of the soul.

I want real conversation. I need to befriend someone wiser than me; someone I can learn from. I want to talk about global poverty, ethical consumerism, and gardning techniques. Issues that matter, damn it.

I guess that's why I've always had friends who are much older than me.

Poverty is a Cold Fire

2008-01-12T17:55:00.002Z

My ribcage collapsed like rotten driftwood. I was picking at the scab that was once my heart. If I can only get the coals warm, maybe I will survive. The cupboards were empty like my stomach. Live-giving fires had long since gone out. The axe was blunt. Soaked and shivering, I hacked kindling in the rain.

Laundry: reflection of the soul ...

2007-12-23T00:31:00.000Z

Current mood: procrastinating

I only quote this to you because I have found it to be terribly accurate, for my laundry is under my bed and I have re-occuring nightmares about a zombie apocalypse.

"Laundry Situation: Heaped in a four-foot mound on the closet floor.
Psychic State: Tormented by pangs of mortality.

Laundry Situation: Strewn artfully about the room.
Psychic State: Alienated from the Self.

Laundry Situation: Mildewing within plastic stolen clothes basket.
Psychic State: Gripped by unexpressed rage.

Laundry Situation: Scrunched in the ottem of oblong duffel bag.
Psychic State: Caught in the throes of mortal dispair.

Laundry Situation: Dangling over chairs/hanging from doorknob.
Psychic State: Haunted by Jungian shadow self.

Laundry Situation: Jammed under bed.
Psychic State: Afliced with apocalyptic visions.

Laundry Situation: Resting inside dormant clothes dryer.
Psychic State: Practicing avoidance.

Laundry Situation: Stolen from the laundromat by mysterious sociopath.
Psychic State: Overcome by manic paranoia.

Laundry Situation: Folded neatly in dresser drawers.
Psychic State: Tragicly, irriversibly mentally ill."

Pg. 51; The Official Slacker Handbook, Sarah Dunn.

re-occuring apocalypse dreams

2007-12-23T00:05:00.000Z

i've been having re-occuring dreams that involve the apocalypse. often I go in elevators and they feel like the suspention cable will break. i feel like something big is going to happen... like the apocalypse ... buildings are falling. ... buildings are falling and it is impossible to escape from the city because the streets are solid traffic jams ... and it isn't zombies in the streets, but its almost more dangerous because it is crazed city people... people who dont know how to survive in any environment without a convienience store... all crazy and they will shoot you for your food ...

Mothering Genes

2007-12-22T23:42:00.000Z

05 Aug 2006

I watched something today with my own eyes; somehing that defyed what I was taught in my Biology classes. I saw a snake warm her eggs until they hatched; like a bird. She even stayed with them for a few weeks while they were young.

Reptiles are not supposed to do this. Birds, I was taught, showed the first primitive mothering. Birds evolved out of reptiles. Reptiles were cold blooded and emotionless. Apparently not all.
Is this the archaic behaviour evolving towards emotion?

I have always believed that the catalyst to the evolution of emotion in the living creatures on earth was mothering. This care for something that is not the organism; motherimg must have been the precurser to emotion.

Gaia wont cry ...

2007-12-22T23:26:00.001Z

We are her parasite.
Her plagues have waged war
on humanity before.
Bodies dropped to the earth,
like rotten plums.
Thick roots fracture
the pavement and vines
will climb the towers
that once scraped the sky.

First the Great Death,
bodies dropping like ripe plums.
Then stillness, as the crows clean the bones.
Plants will breathe the carbon dioxide waste,
purifying the atmosphere.
Roots will fracture the pavement.
Vines thick upon the inorganic hives
once colonized by the workers, once scraping the sky.

Gaia wont cry if crows pluck our eyes;
she will not cry when the last human dies.
Earth wont cry when the last human dies.

REOCCURING DREAM: Zombie Apocalypse

2007-12-22T23:19:00.000Z

All my friends are dead. I was trapped in a rickety old house in the middle of nowhere… with a hoard of zombies trying to break down the door. All my friends are fucking dead. Well, they were … until they woke up again and tried to eat me.

Like childhood nightmares, the monsters bang at my door. I have reoccurring dreams of zombies; I also have severe insomnia. Who can sleep through the animal sounds of contaminated corpses moaning in desire for the taste of your flesh? I am always being pursued, desperately trying to escape some vast city, suffocated with fear as the stiff riger mortis bodies stalk me.

COME live with me and be my Love,
And we will all the pleasures prove
That hills and valleys, dale and field,
And all the craggy mountains yield.

There will we sit upon the rocks	5
And see the shepherds feed their flocks,
By shallow rivers, to whose falls
Melodious birds sing madrigals.

There will I make thee beds of roses
And a thousand fragrant posies,	10
A cap of flowers, and a kirtle
Embroider'd all with leaves of myrtle.

A gown made of the finest wool
Which from our pretty lambs we pull,
Fair linèd slippers for the cold,	15
With buckles of the purest gold.

A belt of straw and ivy buds
With coral clasps and amber studs:
And if these pleasures may thee move,
Come live with me and be my Love.	20

Thy silver dishes for thy meat
As precious as the gods do eat,
Shall on an ivory table be
Prepared each day for thee and me.

The shepherd swains shall dance and sing	25
For thy delight each May-morning:
If these delights thy mind may move,
Then live with me and be my Love.