On the Road: From Missouri to Colorado: A Night at Love's

I've left Missouri for a two-month sojourn in Colorado. 

I passed the night in Chez Prius at a Love's in Ellis, Kansas. 

A very cozy bed chamber. 

 

Cozy bed in Chez Prius. Ellis, Kansas. Credit: Mzuriana.

I awakened to a glorious dawn, co-starring a slice of Americana. 

 

Dawn in Ellis, Kansas, at Love's Truck Stop. Co-starring an A&W. Credit: Mzuriana.

 

Dawn in Ellis, Kansas, at Love's Truck Stop. Credit: Mzuriana.

On the Road to Longmont, Colorado: A Stop in Czechoslavakia, Sort Of

 En route to Longmont, Colorado, I pulled over for gas and other sustenance in Wilson, Kansas. 

Hi, ho! A giant egg! 

Giant Czech egg in Wilson, Kansas. April 2023. Credit: Mzuriana.

And no worries, I took more photos of this good egg from different angles and distances, in case you yearned for same. Wilson, in fact, claims that its egg is the world's largest Czech egg:

Giant Czech egg in Wilson, Kansas. April 2023. Credit: Mzuriana.

Giant Czech egg in Wilson, Kansas. April 2023. Credit: Mzuriana.

There was more visual evidence of Wilson as the "Czech Capital of Kansas:" 

Czech heritage acknowledgement in Wilson, Kansas. April 2023. Credit: Mzuriana.

Czech heritage acknowledgement in Wilson, Kansas. April 2023. Credit: Mzuriana.

Czech heritage acknowledgement in Wilson, Kansas. April 2023. Credit: Mzuriana.

Czech heritage acknowledgement in Wilson, Kansas. April 2023. Credit: Mzuriana.

The giant egg puts me in mind of the Big Alaskan Road Trip that my daughter, Kit, and I took back in the 90s, which Kit deemed the trip of "Buttes and Big'uns," thanks to the many "largest in the world ..." roadside attractions we visited, in addition to the countless buttes in the northern plains.

But I digress. Below is Wilson's historic opera house, undergoing restoration: 

Historic opera house undergoing restoration. Wilson, Kansas. April 2023. Credit: Mzuriana.

So why the hell did the Czechs land in Wilson? 

They came to build the railroads, back in the 1870s. They left their homes in Europe because of poverty, for the most part. American railroad companies even advertised in Czech papers about the opportunities to be found in the American plains.

Also, early Czech arrivals to Kansas wrote back home about the opportunities in Kansas for work and land. Some Czechs, already in the US, simply migrated west from the American east.

Next stop: Longmont, Colorado

 

Ski Run Road and aspens, Highway 532, New Mexico. December 2012. Credit: Mzuriana.

 

I'm leaving tomorrow for Longmont, Colorado, where I'll visit with my sister, Murphy, for May and June. 

The last time I was there was in 2016, my summer of multiple travel adventures: 

• Toronto
• Antigua
• Washington, D.C.
  
• Revisit in South Louisiana to share it with my grandchild, Jet (nee Avery)

It's also the year where I bought a new laptop and a new digital camera. At seven years old, the laptop is now geriatric, and I've found that I depend too much on my mediocre phone camera, and less on the petite, pocket-sized Canon I bought back then.

 

Jefferson City, Missouri: 'tis Spring

 

From a friend's garden of spring blooms. April 2023. Credit: Mzuriana.

 

A Kansas City friend and I met in Columbia recently. She brought me the best kind of flowers: Cut from her own garden and in a glass vessel from her home. 

Add to that spirited conversation over coffee (me) and tea (her) on a sunny, warm day .... yes, 'tis spring. 

This is my friend who packed 6000 condoms in her suitcase on a volunteer mission to a country whose people suffer from a very high STI rate and a shortage of just about everything else.

 

10 Years Ago: Columbus, New Mexico, Part 1: You Mean There's More Than One Part? Are You Kidding?

 Yeah, crazy. 

There were ultimately TEN parts to the saga of little ol' Columbus, New Mexico: 

• Part 1's original post here. 
• Part 2: Drug Running
  
• Part 3: The Wall
  
• Part 4: There's Something About ...
  
• Part 5: Raids
  
• Part 6: Going Over to Puerto Palomas
  
• Part 7: Pat, Who Rescues
  
• Part 8: The Library
  
• Part 9: Odds and Ends
  
• Part 10: "A Future We Don't Know About"
  

And then I took a brother and a friend there two separate times when I lived in El Paso in 2016.

 

Tuesday, April 23, 2013

Columbus, New Mexico, Part 1: You Mean There's More Than One Part? Are You Kidding?

Columbus, New Mexico. April 2013. Credit: Mzuriana.

I know, I know! How could it be possible to require more than one post to talk about a town with fewer than 2000 residents, a lackluster landscape, and where the "good" restaurant closes at 3:00 p.m.?

Where the in-town state park has a sad sort of parking lot vibe? 

Where, counter to "normal" New Mexican water towers with painted murals that display community pride, the Columbus water tower is strictly No-Bullshit Black?

Where downtown Columbus boasts perhaps 6 or 7 storefronts? OK, maybe 8.

Columbus, New Mexico. April 2013. Credit: Mzuriana.

Stay tuned. 

 

2023 Word of the Year: FEAR: "Take More Risks"

 

Tammany Trace, Mandeville, Louisiana. May 2021. Credit: Mzuriana.

Around the beginning of the year, the universe whispered into my ear : "Take more risks." 

I've done scary things. Adventures. Acts of derring-do here and there. Uprooted myself.

But the whisper in my ear - "take more risks" - came from a different wellspring. There was a sense of some urgency.

I'm not getting younger, and evidently I am not immortal.

My grandparents are gone. Both my parents are gone. Most of my aunts and uncles are gone. 

I'm almost at the front of the line, closest to the abyss. 

I don't want to be on my deathbed regretting that I didn't take the fullest advantage of what life offers because of silly ol' fears of things like looking stupid, experiencing rejection, failing, falling, flailing. 

I've got to take more risks.

Related posts: 

• 2016: Flashback: Fear and Adventure: A Skydiving Story
  
• 2013: One Thing That Scares You Per Day Keeps Apathy at Bay
• 2023 March: Word of the Year: FEAR: Forgetting Everything's All Right 
• 2023 February: Word of the Year: FEAR: Fuck Everything And Run
• 2023 January: Word of the Year: FEAR: Looking Into the Abyss Without Falling In 

 

El Paso, Texas: Snow 'way!

 

Snow in El Paso! March 2023. Credit: Mzuriana.

 Last week I visited a couple of El Paso friends, staying overnight at their place. 

What the hey?! In the morning, it snowed. 

Snow in El Paso. March 2023. Credit: Mzuriana

 

Something I have tried to avoid since that day on a marshrutka between Rustavi and Tbilisi in Caucasus Georgia. 

Snow on palm trees = This Is Not Right.

 

Snow in El Paso. March 2023. Credit: Mzuriana

 

Las Cruces, New Mexico: Spring Comes

On Sunday, I visited the arts and crafts show in the village of Old Mesilla, which is just outside of Las Cruces. 

I saw my first daffodils of the year. Spring approaches. Blades of joy there. 

First daffodils of  the year. Old Mesilla near Las Cruces, New Mexico. March 2023. Credit: Mzuriana.

In a long-ago March, in my rooted life, stoic daffodils bore a mantle of snow in Missouri: 

Daffodils in snow. Jefferson City, Missouri. March 2007. Credit: Mzuriana.

To reap the joy of daffodils, someone must plant the bulbs the year before, in the faith that beauty will come.

10 Years Ago: A View to a Kill

This wasn't the most startling thing I'd seen outside my windows, both in Alamogordo and after, in other temporary domiciles. Such as this tragedy.

But it was damn startling. 

 

Saturday, March 16, 2013

Alamogordo: View to a Kill

When it happened, I was working at my desk. On the phone, in fact. With the IRS. So I couldn't just hang up and see what was up, because I was deep into my own surreal drama.

But what happened is this. I was on the phone and I heard, then saw, a rustling of dead leaves on the ground in front of the french doors. Whatever was happening was happening in front of the wooden part of the doors, so I didn't actually witness the attack.

But I saw the aftermath.

Hawk and dove, a lunch. March 2013. Credit: Mzuriana.

While I was pinned to my phone call with the IRS, I watched the hawk methodically pluck the fine feathers from the dove's breast, pull out some meat, eat. Pluck, pull, eat. Pluck, pull, eat. It was like watching stuffing being pulled out of a pillow. Presently, the hawk moved the bird aways from the breast feathers. 

Hawk and dove, a lunch. March 2013. Credit: Mzuriana.

Hawk and dove, a lunch. March 2013. Credit: Mzuriana.

Hawk and dove, a lunch. March 2013. Credit: Mzuriana.

Above and below are the deshabille of the dove's downy breast feathers. 

Hawk and dove, a lunch. March 2013. Credit: Mzuriana.

Finished with one part of the bird, the hawk took its dead prey to a different location (still in front of my french doors) and commenced to denude the bird of its larger feathers, as evidenced below:

Hawk and dove, a lunch. March 2013. Credit: Mzuriana.

Once released from my engagement with the IRS - an hour or so - I went outside to get the pics of the feathering grounds. The hawk, annoyed, carried its meal up to my backyard tree and laid it in the crook of some branches. 

Hawk and dove, a lunch. March 2013. Credit: Mzuriana.

Hawk and dove, a lunch. March 2013. Credit: Mzuriana.

Hawk and dove, a lunch. March 2013. Credit: Mzuriana.

The hawk dined on the dove into the afternoon, and then left it alone. The next morning, I saw that the hawk had returned for leftovers.

Even later still, I noted the carcass was gone from the branches, but was now on the ground nearby: 

Hawk and dove, a lunch. March 2013. Credit: Mzuriana.

Hawk and dove, a lunch. March 2013. Credit: Mzuriana.

A feast for smaller forms of life.

2023 Word of the Year: FEAR: Forgetting Everything's All Right

 

Alligator, Audubon Bird Sanctuary, Dauphin Island, Alabama. December 2021. Credit: Mzuriana.

FEAR: Forgetting Everything's All Right. 

 

Let's get some things straight right off. I am NOT one to embrace any of these ideas: 

• Everything happens for a reason. 
• Everything turns out for the best. 
• Everything is going to be all right. 
  
• It's God's will.
  

What I can embrace is that in this moment, and this next moment, and now this one - everything is all right. 

I hearken back to Aldous Huxley's utopian novel, Island, with its chatty birds ever-present (get it?) to remind people: "Here and now, boys. Here and now." "Attention. Attention." 

I began this rootless journey as a woman of a certain age. I'm more than a decade older now. The agent of my future demise might even now be stealthily amassing an army of corporeal insurrectionists under cover of an arterial stream or within or on or behind an organ. Or perhaps a wall is thinning, like the tires of my car, ready to tear or pop at a most inconvenient moment. Or deep dread: Maybe my brain cells - the ones that govern my cognition - are draining rapidly down some well of oblivion, with critical mass as yet not reached, thus not yet on the screen. But soon.

And, too, I have a grown-ass daughter, Kit, who has recently realized that her parents are .... mortal! All of the grandparents are gone now; her parents are the front line. So she'd like to call me back to base, as it were, to be closer to her. I don't dismiss this desire. I will factor the desire into my plans, which have always had intrinsic plasticity.

But in this moment, everything's all right. I can allay fear by remembering this. 

I can make course corrections in my rootlessness. I can change my core mission if I want. I can re-prioritize goals. 

I will plan for various tomorrows, but live in today.

It's sunny today; the temperature mild. I will visit two El Paso friends this evening. We will laugh.

We will laugh despite recent losses in our individual and mutual circles, and despite the uncertainty of tomorrow. I tell myself to remember this when we three laugh: 

In this moment, everything's all right.

 

10 Years Ago: Relocation 2013, Part 1: Mexico!

 

Spoiler alert: I didn't relocate to Mexico. 

First there was the military occupation sent to Morelia, my first-choice city. 

Then there was this teaser. 

And here was the climax. And part of it had to do with deciding to do something scary. Scarier than jumping out of a plane. 

 

Wednesday, February 6, 2013

Relocation 2013, Part 1: Mexico!

Virgin of Ocotlan Basilica, Ocotlan, Tlaxcala, Mexico

Damn, is it that time already?


Back here, I drilled down my decision to either Mexico or New Mexico for 2012/2013.

This go-round, after toying with other possibilities, I've settled on Mexico.

Last year, these were my criteria:

• Reasonable access to family/friends; 
• Proximity to mountains; 
• Locations with mild(er) climate; 
• Cultural and language diversity; 
• Low cost of living; and 
• Income opportunities

For 2013/2014, my criteria are ...  huh .... identical, if one defines "income opportunities" to mean access to reliable and high-speed internet access, as my plan is to continue teaching English online.

So now that I know the country ... time to figure out the city.

My wish list for the city are (in addition to the above):

• Population less than 500,000 and more than 50,000
• Sense of place
• Socio-economic, age, and ethnic diversity
• Trees, pretty scenery; a lake or river would be nice
• In a location that's a good base for exploring the entire country
• Not in a criminal-gang hotspot.
• Elevation lower than 7000 feet
• Reliable and fast internet connection (this one is a deal breaker)
• Within 3 hours of an international airport (preferably two)

But before I go to Mexico, I'll leave New Mexico (boo hoo) at the end of September, and spend October in Missouri.

Of course .... if I learned only one thing in Georgia, it was this: Be flexible. So, quien sabe? Maybe my plans will change.

 

 

2023 Word of the Year: FEAR: Fuck Everything And Run

 

Do not feed gators, Leroy Percy State Park, Mississippi. December 2011. Credit: Mzuriana.

In the 12-step universe, one of the multiple translations of FEAR is Fuck Everything And Run. 

This always makes me laugh for how graphic - and nakedly truthful - it is. 

Geographic cures

And also in the 12-step universe, there is the idea of "geographic cures,"which come with two phrasal verbs: 

• To pull a geographic
• To do a geographic

Pulling or doing a geographic = physically relocating oneself to a new location to escape an undesirable reality instead of acknowledging or responding to that reality in a healthy or responsible way. 

It's that last clause that is key, of course, because sometimes the healthiest response to an undesirable reality is to physically remove oneself from same. 

Living rootless - a function of fear? 

It would be cowardly of me to avoid shining a light on what drove (or contributed to) my chosen rootlessness. A decade-long geographic cure? 

There's no question that certain life-altering events presented me with a divergence of paths. All required a change in direction, as the Status Quo Trail ended right there.

A divergence of paths. Castlewood State Park, Missouri. April 2018. Credit: Mzuriana.

In this moment, as I contemplate how to end this post, I sit in a tall, red office chair, swiveling left and then right and then left and then right, and I think about my long-ago decision to sell my house, divest myself of most of my belongings, and set out onto my slomadic path ...

How much of it was a function of fuck-everything-and-run and how much of it was a catalyst for facing fears? 

And this makes me laugh a little because truth be told: The spark that ignited my rootlessness was simultaneously a run from pain and a fuck-you to that pain. 

And this tall, red, swiveling office chair that I sit in at just this moment? It's at a friend's house in Las Cruces, New Mexico, where I currently visit, who I met back when I lived in El Paso. 

I have tendrils of delicate roots in many places now. 

So sometimes fear takes us to good places, yes?

 

Las Cruces, New Mexico: Scenes from the Farmers and Crafts Market

Las Cruces Farmers and Crafts Market with the Organ Mountains backdrop. January 2023. Credit: Mzuriana.

 

During my current sojourn in Las Cruces, I go downtown on Saturdays to the Farmers and Craft Market. I go for the kettle corn, mainly. It's not often I'm living in a place where I can get it in the wild, regularly. 

Las Cruces seems to have three kettle corn drug dealers. There's Uncle Banjo, Southwest, and a third one, as yet unseen and untried by me. 

My preference is Southwest Kettle Corn. I can taste all of the fat, crunch, salt, and sweet. Uncle Banjo's is too dry for my taste. And the folks at Southwest know how we are, "we" being persnickety partakers of the popcorn crack. As in: If I ask for more salt before I carry away my bag, I'm asked in return: "In layers or on the top"? And always, we users are asked: "Do you want your bag open or tied?" 

The market is long and large. 

On Christmas Eve, my eyes widened at the probable deliciousness of the mushrooms on offer. Oh, mushrooms, how I love thee.

Mushrooms and brilliant smile at Las Cruces Farmers and Crafts Market. December 2022. Credit: Mzuriana.

Mushrooms and brilliant smile at Las Cruces Farmers and Crafts Market. December 2022. Credit: Mzuriana.

On another day, I bought a stash of bright artwork from Alyssa Trujillo. Along with mushrooms, I do fancy lizards. I'll send the work to worthy recipients. 

Artist Alyssa Trujillo at Las Cruces Farmers and Crafts Market. January 2023. Credit: Mzuriana.

A slide show of the Las Cruces Farmers and Crafts Market, which includes photos from my first-ever visit in 2013: 

This and other markets: 

2010: Kansas City: Travels With Carol: Day 3: City Market, et al

2011: Color in Harar [Ethiopia], Day 4

2011: Last Day in Gonder [Ethiopia]: The Market, Gold, and God is Calling

2011: Rustavi, Caucasus Georgia: At the "Big" Market

2012: Istanbul: Larceny and Spice

2012: Alamogordo, New Mexico: Farmer's Market

2013: Las Cruces: The Not-So-Farmerish Farmers' Market

2013: Lafayette, Louisiana: Farmers' Market at the Oil Center, Winter

2016: El Paso: Downtown Farmers Market

2016: Antigua, Guatemala: Municipal market stories here and here and here. 

2016: Outside Antigua, Guatemala: The Sunday Blues

2018: Mexico City: New Housemates and the Saturday Market

Las Cruces, New Mexico: COVID-19 Unfolding, Part 8888: Caught Again?

 

Gaza. COVID art. October 2020. Source: REUTERS/Mohammed Salem

"So sorry to have to send this text to you. This morning I tested positive for COVID. ..... " 

This from Diana, who came to El Paso with her husband, Pete, to volunteer at a migrant receiving shelter for a couple of weeks. We'd spent such a good time together on Sunday and Monday, with so much laughter.

Not a text I wanted to receive. Especially since I've been visiting daily with Drake's dad, Beck, who is physically vulnerable on at least three levels. 

It doesn't matter that:

• I'm pretty careful with my mask protocols; or
• I have abstained from trips to zydeco dancing venues, feeling as holy (and deprived) as a virgin saving herself for marriage; or
  
• I was pretty confident about my friends' practices, and that of the place where my friends volunteered in El Paso for the previous two weeks; or
• I've had one, two, and three vaccination doses in 2021, plus the first bivalent booster in October 2022; or 
• Had one bout with COVID in early 2022; or 
• I successfully avoided contracting COVID when my Jefferson City hostess came down with it.
  

And it sure doesn't matter that I had this on my list of things to do: Get the second bivalent dose. 

I last saw my friends on Monday afternoon. Diana's test was positive on Wednesday morning. I waited until Thursday afternoon to take my own rapid test to allow time for a sufficient quantity of viruses to accrue. The little fuckers. 

My Thursday afternoon test result: Negative. 

My Friday afternoon test result: Negative.

And finally, my Saturday morning test result: Negative! Hallelujah! 

My third and final negative test result. January 2023. Credit: Mzuriana.

Life Hacks From the Road: The Three Gs

Desert View, Grand Canyon. November 2008. Credit: Mzuriana.

I began this post back in May 2019. It's been gestating in the draft womb ever since. Seeing as how we're in 2023's neonatal days, it's time to birth this baby.

During the course of a conversation, one of my El Paso friends, "Drake," referenced the three Gs. The three Gs aren't of Drake's conception; they are Dan Savage's.

Oh, Dan Savage. I hadn't read any of his columns in years, and I hadn't heard of his three Gs. Dan Savage is the author of the column called Savage Love, from which he dispenses relationship and sex advice.

Mr. Savage's three Gs reside in a sexual context, but as soon as Drake described them to me, I saw their useful application to life generally.

The Three Gs

• Good
• Giving
• Game

In short (from a Psychology Today article):

GGG stands for 'good, giving, and game.’ Think 'good in bed,' 'giving of equal time and equal pleasure,' and 'game for anything—within reason.'"

For more details, here you can listen to Dan Savage explain below:

But, as I noted, I can try to apply the Gs in everyday milieus.

Desert View, Grand Canyon. November 2008. Credit: Mzuriana.

Good

Skill. To be good at something and to practice that skill.

For example, Drake is skilled at noticing.

Early on in our friendship, I saw that he noticed things I liked, and he noticed things I didn't like.

Then, for my pleasure, he acted on what he noticed.

I'm not talking big things. I'm talking small things.

Like noticing that I prefer taking a more scenic route from point A to point B instead of a more direct route. When we were out and about, he'd ask if I'd prefer walking an alternative route over the most time-efficient route - and being amenable to taking the longer way.

Like noticing that I usually opt for crunchy vegetable snacks. Consequently, he thoughtfully included a supply of carrots in a day pack for a joint excursion, in addition to his preferred snacks of chips and cookies.

I have since tried to build my own noticing-to-acting skill so that I can add some Good into a relationship, whether it be friend, family, romantic interest, neighbor, or colleague.


Giving

I'm not much of a hugger in most situations, and I used to groan inwardly when I encountered the friends who I labeled as eye-rollingly touchy-feely, gearing myself up for the inevitable greeting hug. But one day I realized that:

1. Hugs do not actually cause me any harm; and
2. Huggers derive sustenance from hugs, both giving and receiving; so
3. How about if I unreservedly give and receive said hugs?

Game

"I only listen to classical music."
"I don't like your music."

It can be a bit of a bummer when a friend or relative rejects something out of hand that you like or something you want to try. 

I'm not just thinking of exotica, such as trying out a food new to you or me, like brains or crunchy crickets. 

And I'm not talking about things that risk one's physical or mental well-being, such as jumping out of a plane.

We all have biases for and against places and activities, which are evident with the words never, always, and only.

I used to have a bias against ocean cruises. But over time, my antipathy has become less strident: If a person in my circle really wants to go on a cruise, and my participation would be an investment in our relationship, and it's a cruise I can afford financially, and the opportunity costs aren't too high (i.e. if I do the cruise, I'd have to pass up something I value significantly more or something that won't be available later) ... then why not? I'm game. Maybe I'll be delighted! And if not delighted for myself, maybe I'll be delighted at the pleasure I see in my travel companion.

Being game doesn't arm us for future chess moves. I laughed the other day remembering Jewish-née-Episcopalian Charlotte's outcry to future husband Harry: "I gave up Christ for you!"

10 Years Ago: Chimps in Alamogordo, New Mexico

As I draft this in 2023, I am again in Alamogordo's sphere, over on the other side of the Organ Mountains, which I have the deep pleasure of seeing every day.

In 2015, I was able to visit Chimp Haven in Louisiana. It's open to the public only twice a year.

Alas, as of January 2021 ("Federal lawsuit filed over chimps still held at Holloman Air Force Base"), 36 chimps from the Holloman Air Force Base community still lived at the Holloman Air Force Base because, according to official explanations, the remaining chimps are too infirm for travel to one of the sanctuaries in Louisiana or Florida.  The situation had not changed in March 2022, although the number of chimps at the air force base had decreased to 35, due to the death of one inhabitant.  

The original post of UPDATE: Chimps in Alamogordo, New Mexico, is here.

Thursday, January 24, 2013

UPDATE: Chimps in Alamogordo, New Mexico

Credit: Physicians Committee for Responsible Medicine

History

Back here, I related the history of chimpanzees in Alamogordo.


A new life for the Alamogordo chimps!


Today brings important news for the 169 remaining chimps at the Alamogordo Primate Facility on Holloman Air Force Base.

In short --> some? most? all? -- of these chimps will be retired to Chimp Haven in Louisiana.

Here is the final report from the Working Group on the Use of Chimpanzees in NIH-Supported Research. There is a comment period before their recommendations can be finalized, but it would seem public opinion is in favor of retiring the chimps.

What a happy ending to a dismal history.  Kudos to Chimp Haven.


But what about ....? 

While I was researching the history of the Alamogordo chimps, I was dismayed to learn that Americans can breed and sell chimps as pets.

Insanity.  

Setting aside the horror stories of the dangers of adolescent and adult chimps, how does one rationalize taking a baby chimp from its mother?

A baby chimp that has been taken from its mother suffers effects similar to that of a human infant being stolen from its mother.

Recent ads: 

Baby Chimpanzee For Sale

($500.00)

Very tamed, veterinary checked diaper and crate trained, this chimpanzee baby is ready for a loving homes . She is home raised and always around kids. She is a playmate for kids and adults and gets along with other pets. She is going to come with all papers, toys, sample foods and a very large crate . If interested and ready to give this girl the kind of home we are looking for, get back to us for more information with your name and mobile number to ease communication...

$800, Cute Female baby Chimpanzee for sale

Posted: Wednesday, November 21, 2012 1:04 AM

---

Our Female baby chimpanzee is a house raised, diaper trained, leash trained , wears clothes and likes to lay around, watch TV and take snaps with you. Please contact for more information on this baby. she is vaccinated, vet checked, obedient, intelligent, acrobatic, very healthy and loves the company of children's and other pets. She will be coming along with all health papers, shots and cages too, So we are searching for any families that would take very good care of our baby Contact us via Email or Cell if interested.

Fast Facts
Adorable baby chimpanzees . they have all their health documents. They date with current vaccines. they are very charming, sociable, playful and very beautiful.Well tamed and hand raised.they just received their shots and have health documents issued by a qualified veterinarian, they are DNA and also tested negative on all possible diseases which could get them affected,they are also free from all genetic diseases as approved of,from their lab results, they have their papers of guarantee of health, and they will be coming with toys and very nutritive monkey food.They have a lot of games with the children and other pets such as birds, dogs and cats. We are always available for competent buyers, if you are interested in having these chimps.email 

Baby chimpanzee. Source: Care2

                         

 

2023 Word of the Year: FEAR: Looking Into the Abyss Without Falling In

 

Grand Canyon. September 2007. Credit: Mzuriana.

OK, this is a surprise, eh? 

A word like FEAR?! On the very first day of the spankin' new year?! What a buzzkill!

Shouldn't it be something inspirational or aspirational like other years, such as:

• 2022 Disciplines
• 2021 Joy
• 2020 Build
• 2019 Action
• 2018 Courage

Well, I'm thinking no. We are living in FEAR-ful times. I want to look at that. I want to look into the abyss of fear without falling in.

I've got FEAR in all caps because FEAR is an acronym for many things in the 12-step universe, such as:

1. Fuck Everything and Run
2. Fighting Ego Against Reality
3. Frustration, Ego, Anxiety, Resentment 
4. Frantic Effort to Appear Real
5. Failure Expected And Received
6. False Evidence Appearing Real
7. False Expectations Appearing Real
8. Feelings Every Addict Rejects
9. Forgetting Everything's All Right
10. Feelings Expressed Allow Relief
11. Face Everything And Recover
    

I'm not sure I'll try and match a month to an acronym. 

Alligators are dangerous sign. New Iberia, Louisiana. March 2015. Credit: Mzuriana.