Just read that an Air France crew have refused to board a Mexico-bound flight. Can’t say that I blame them, but let’s get serious here. It’s the flu, not Ebola, people!
We’ve (all of us, every single person) suffered from one flu or another at some point in our lives. I’m not trying to downplay the danger of viral illness, but people don’t cancel flights and trips during regular flu season. And the plain old boring, non-swine, variety kills tens of thousands every year, in our nation alone. Tens of thousands!
And do you know what we do about it? For some, get vaccinated or take Tamiflu when symptoms arise. But most of use, the vast majority of citizens . . . we do nothing. Absolutely nothing, and yet the world somehow manages to continue turning.
The mind boggles.
In the interest of public health, I should probably add a disclaimer here: please consider your travel plans, your likelihood of catching and spreading this virus, and act accordingly. Be cautious and vigilant about the spread of contagious diseases; wash your hands regularly and thoroughly; cover your mouth when you sneeze or cough. Etcetera . . . you know what to do.
Wanderlust is a loanword from German to English that designates a strong desire for or impulse to wander, or, in modern usage, to travel and to explore the world.
In German, the term has become somewhat obsolete. A more contemporary equivalent for the English wanderlust in the sense of “love of travel” would be Fernweh (literally “an ache for the distance”).
“An ache for the distance.” Almost, but not quite, how I’m feeling lately.
Some days, it’s all you can do to put one foot in front of the other. Days like today, for example.
Every family makes their own special brand of crazy. As an insider, it looks pretty normal. To an outsider (even your loving spouse), it looks like complete insanity. Cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs bonkers.
Leah is making soap. All natural, with goats milk and honey. You should buy some. Here: Promise Land Soaps
I’ve learned something new. About myself. Go figure.
For years, I’ve enjoyed yoga. And I love to dance – the organized, choreographed kind. And I enjoy brisk walks and the occasional jog/run. But, recently, I discovered weights. And bought a set of hand weights and resistance bands for home.
Oh my goodness is this fun! Makes me feel strong and powerful. And it’s great for maintaining and restoring strong bones.* I love it. And, I have cute little biceps already.
See. Learning something new.
* According to my chiropractor, if you’re a woman above age 30, you must begin some sort of weight training. It’s better than calcium for preventing osteoporosis.
On a walk with Handsome a couple nights ago, I spotted a squirmy brown thing on the sidewalk:
Me: “Hey, look at that big earth worm!” So, I reach down. And pause. “Maybe it’s a snake. What do you think?”
Then I poked it. And it squiggled and wiggled and squirmed away into the grass.
Handsome: “That was a snake. You know that right?”
Me: “Hey! I didn’t freak out! I touched a snake, and I didn’t freak out!!!” Hippity-hopping down the sidewalk.
Handsome: “Doesn’t count. You thought it was a worm. And besides, it was a really tiny.”
Me: “It totally counts.” *pout*
Handsome: “You’re cute when you’re trying not to freak out.”