Not one of Norway's finer moments--rest in peace, Freya

Image taken from https://images.app.goo.gl/yUjWbQmKC8owbqVH7

The Oslo fjord has had an unusual visitor since June, a young female walrus that was given the name Freya. The name Freya means 'the Norse goddess of love and beauty'. Unfortunately for the walrus Freya, there was no love shown for her when authorities ended her life (shot her) a day ago because it was easier for them to do that than to sedate her and move her to a safe place, away from the gawking humans who endangered her life, not the other way around. But the reasons given for euthanizing her were that she posed a threat to people, those wonderful human beings who gathered to watch her swim around and sunbathe on boats in different Oslo harbors, who gawked at her and did not leave her alone. Who swam in the water in the vicinity of where she was. Who harassed her. Idiots. She seemed to like being here and didn't seem to be in a hurry to leave. But she would have left eventually. Of course she would have.

Atlantic walruses, of which Freya was one, make their home in the icy waters around Norway, Greenland, Canada, and Russia. Freya had apparently been on a bit of a world tour, visiting the UK, Scotland, the Netherlands, Denmark and Sweden. Photographers posted many photos of her over the past months. She chose to spend part of the summer in Norway. Norway shot her. Norway killed her. No other country ever considered that possibility. Norway did. Even the prime minister supported the decision to kill her. Shame on Norway. Shame on this country. Shame, shame, shame. 

What this country did to Freya breaks my heart, and has changed my view of Norway for good. I don't trust the authorities anymore to make good decisions concerning wildlife of any kind. After all, this is a nation that still kills whales and like Japan, defends the practice. This is a country that shoots first whenever wildlife encroach on human territories; the solution is always to shoot them (wolves, for example) and to show the carcasses of the dead wolves on television. I've always wondered why the media allow that. Why do we need to see the bodies of dead animals? To convince ourselves that they are really dead? The authorities also killed an entire rabbit population on the island of Gressholmen in 2004 (Alle kaninene kan bli skutt (aftenposten.no); the reason given was that they were destroying the native vegetation. But the rabbits had been there for years and the vegetation grew back every year, as native vegetation usually does. Seeing the rabbits was part of the attraction of visiting the island. The authorities never listened to other alternatives. They always know best, these bureaucrats. They are arrogant and callous. 

Other countries take different approaches to such visitors. San Francisco in California allowed Pier 39 to become a home for sea lions when it was clear that they were using it to camp out. Food (fish) was plentiful and the marina area was protected. It became a tourist attraction, yes, but at a distance. You are not allowed to walk among the seals, and that wouldn't be a good idea anyway. The sea lions live there but also migrate to the Channel Islands during the summer months for breeding season. I remember seeing them when we lived in the city in 1993; it didn't take a doctoral degree to understand that one should stay a safe distance from them. Most people seemed to respect that. The city didn't consider shooting them as far as I know.  

I understand protecting yourself and defending yourself if confronted with an aggressive and dangerous wild animal. Freya was neither; she was a wild animal, yes, but she did not go after human beings. The opposite was true; the human beings hounded her. She paid for their idiocy with her life. We have not learned to coexist peacefully with wildlife. We say we want wildlife around us, but we don't, not really. It's a lie we tell ourselves. The death of Freya merely highlights that. 

The international reactions to Freya's death have not been positive for Norway. I'm glad to see that. You are free to disagree with me about this story; it won't change my feelings one iota. Here are some links to media articles about Freya's death: 

Walrus that attracted crowds in Oslo fjord euthanised: officials (france24.com)

Freya, the 1,300-pound walrus sinking boats in Norway, euthanized - CNN

Walrus Freya who became attraction in Norway's Oslo Fjord put down - BBC News

Walrus named Freya that drew crowds in Oslo euthanized by Norwegian authorities - CBS News

Norway Kills Freya, a 1,300-Pound Walrus Who Delighted Onlookers - The New York Times (nytimes.com)

Bee rescuer and bumblebee butts

I have officially become a bee rescuer in the garden. Specifically, I rescue them from drowning in the birdbath, which they frequent often when the weather is very warm, as it has been for the past week. They land on the rim of the birdbath to drink the water, but sometimes they slip into the water and don't seem to be able to swim back to the edge. It doesn't happen often, but when it does, I am usually able to push them to the edge with my (gloved) finger or a short stick so that they can crawl up the rim right to the edge and dry their wings off before they take flight again. I've rescued mostly honeybees, but today, I rescued a yellow jacket as well by pushing it to the edge with my (gloved) finger. It did not need to dry off its wings before it took flight the way honeybees need to. The wings of a yellow jacket seem to be longer and more slender compared to those of bees, which are shorter and wider. It's only my observation, but bees use a much longer time to dry their wings, fanning them at intervals as though to get rid of any excess water droplets that may still be present. 

I've also noticed that bumblebees like to take naps in flowers. Sometimes when I think they're dead, I find out that they're only resting. They work hard enough, so that a nap perhaps is what they need to keep them going. The lifespan of bees varies quite a bit from what I've read online. The worker bumblebees' lifespan is from two to six weeks, whereas queen bumblebees can live for a year on average. The lifespan of worker honeybees is between 6 and 7 weeks in the spring/summer and 4 to 6 months in the autumn; queen honeybees live for 3 to 4 years on average (Bee Lifespan: How Long Do Bees Live? - AZ Animals (a-z-animals.com). 

There are a lot more bumblebees than honeybees in the garden this year. I have come across several dead bumblebees, and I always feel a tinge of sorrow when I see them. Such short lives, such industrious little creatures. I am no longer afraid of bees as I was when I was younger. But of course it goes without saying that I respect them and have learned to coexist peacefully with them, I let them go about their business and they let me go about mine, They do protest a bit when I water the garden, especially the flowers that they frequent, and they let me know by buzzing about me. But it all returns to normal after a minute or two. 

I saw a cute photo the other day on Facebook of a bumblebee that had fallen asleep in a flower. Its little butt was sticking out of the flower, and the person who posted it made a cute comment about bumblebee butts. Here are similar photos that I found on this website, Tired Bumblebees Who Fell Asleep Inside Flowers With Pollen On Their Butts » Design You Trust. I did not take these photos, so please credit the website if you use them. I think they're adorable. Enjoy! 

Water by Golda May

Water, sung by Golda May, is the ending song to the movie The Weekend Away, now showing on Netflix. The movie was a pretty decent thriller starring Leighton Meester, and the ending song seemed appropriate for what the movie was about. I'm including the lyrics: 

Water 

I hear water in my dream

Lapping at my feet, talking to me

All red shoulders in the heat

So I step into the sea, floating softly

It's tryin' to say somethin'

A warnin' or maybe nothin'

Oh, this water keeps on showin' up

Oh, I'm a daughter drownin' in a cup

It's filling my lungs up

Dripping from my tongue now

Oh, this water keeps on showin' up

In deep, sister by my side

These waves are twice our height in the high tide

In life I usually despise her

But here she saves my life, I don't die

It's tryin' to say somethin'

A warnin' or maybe nothin'

Oh, this water keeps on showin' up

Oh, I'm a daughter drownin' in a cup

And It's filling my lungs up

Dripping from my tongue now

Oh, this watеr keeps on showing up

(Oh, this water keeps on showing up)

It's filling my lungs up

Dripping from my tongue now

Oh, this water keeps on showing up

Ah ah ah ah

I thought I could hеar you

I thought I could hear you

When you came to me every night

I thought I could hear you

Source: Musixmatch

Songwriters: Brian Brundage / Ariella Golda Sosis

Water lyrics © Bad Ponjo

Real change in the workplace

I got the chance recently to tell a former leader what I thought about my former workplace when it came to attitudes toward research and the politics it practiced. We were together at a garden party hosted by another former colleague who seems to have managed the workplace politics better than I did. It's not that I didn't try; it's just that at some point I refused (inside myself) to compromise my beliefs and how I view dealing with employees and the jobs they do. I am totally uninterested in micromanaging employees or in forcing them to accept change just for the sake of change. I am interested in engaging them in useful and productive work and in listening to what they have to say and to teach me. The latter is important, and more leaders should try to listen better and to learn from their employees, rather than preaching to them that they are 'resistant to change', ineffective at their jobs, or treating them as though they are little more than a budget post on an accounting sheet. 

The interesting thing was that my former leader agreed with mostly everything I said, which was not the case when I was still working, and said further that attempts have been made to get current leadership to see new points of view when it comes to research policies, to no avail. Current research leadership thinks it knows best, and has thought that way for the past fifteen years. And they talk about resistance to change. My opinion--start at the top and work downward. Get rid of the heavy weight of too many leaders at the top (six levels of leadership) and focus on using the salary money saved to employ truly professional individuals who actually do useful and productive work. I reiterate, as I've done so many times in this blog before--leadership is not a career in and of itself. Being a leader in one specific area does not necessarily qualify you for all leadership positions. Current management in many places seems to think it does, and it is one of the biggest mistakes ever made during the past twenty years. How one could believe that being a top-level company executive entitles you to run a hospital department with no prior medical experience is beyond me. But tell that to the politicians who leave office and are appointed leaders of boards and companies. What experience do they have that qualifies them for these positions? The worst thing that ever happened to academic research science was giving these bureaucrats the power that they now have to wield over ordinary scientists, many of whom have simply given up and left for the greener pastures of industry. The same is true for many of the pathologists I know, who simply cannot abide the understaffing (a perpetual shortage of necessary professionals) and inefficiency of many public hospital workplaces. 

Things need to change, and if that change entails admitting that current leadership trends are simply 'the emperor's new clothes', then so be it. Admit it. Just do it. Get rid of the dead weight at the top. Hire the people needed to do the necessary jobs, who actually do the work. Stop micromanaging. In short, listen to your employees and respect their expertise. You hired them for a reason. 

Turning off the lights

It's been nearly a year since I left my workplace for the freedom of retirement. I met a former colleague for coffee this afternoon, and we ended up chatting about our former workplace. She has since moved on to greener pastures, as have I. She filled me in on the recent gossip--who has retired, who quit and where they work now, and so forth. As usually happens, we talk too about former leaders, leadership styles and bad leadership. The latter is rampant, and not just at my former workplace, that I understand. It's just that while I worked there, I was always hoping to witness good leadership in action, and I rarely got to see it. It was immensely disappointing. It always seemed as though most leaders were interested in worrying about how satisfied the leaders above them were, rarely about how satisfied the employees who worked for them were. I call it kissing ass up over in the system, a not uncommon phenomenon. 

While I was en route to my coffee meeting, I reflected upon my one year of retirement and leaving the work world behind. Do I miss it at all? No, I don't. I thought about leaving my office, which was the size of a prison cell for two people, for the last time and turning off the light switch. It's a good metaphor for retirement. I turned off the lights--on my job, my career, the perpetual anxiety, the having to deal with arrogant leaders, the stress, and the feeling of never measuring up. How good it feels to have turned off those lights in that old life. And how good it feels to have turned on new light switches in other places; how good it feels to have a new life, one that is totally unencumbered by negative feelings, negative people, and negativity generally. And if I meet negative people in any capacity, I am free to walk away from them, and I do. I am not interested in listening to them or adopting their world views, or adapting in any way to having to deal with them. 

I am free. Whenever I say that to former colleagues, they look at me in surprise. So many people tell me that they never would have thought that I would have retired early. I rejoice inside when they say that. It means I kept my poker face for the last five years I worked there, and never told people about my plans. I could plan my exit well, and I did. I could visualize the next stage in my life, and I did. I am free. It's a wonderful feeling. 

Oslo-Dalen-Utne-Rjukan-Oslo

We decided to visit several of the historic hotels in Norway this summer, and settled on Dalen Hotel, Utne Hotel, and Rjukan Admini Hotel. If you'd like more information about the historic hotels in Norway generally, you can visit this informative site: Historic Hotels & Restaurants in Norway (dehistoriske.com). We drove from place to place as we normally do; my husband maps out the routes he wants to take beforehand and some of them are roads we've never driven before that take us through parts of Norway that we have not seen before. Our route this year is mapped out here: 

We started from Oslo, drove southwest to Skien, and then westward along the Telemark Canal to Dalen where we stayed one night at the Dalen Hotel. We've been there before and it's always nice to come back to this hotel with its unique architecture and lovely grounds. 

The following day we drove northward on our way to Utne, passing through Haukeli and over the Haukelifjell mountain area and mountain pass. Haukelifjell partially overlaps the Hardangervidda mountain plateau and is located in the Vinje municipality in the county of Telemark and Odda municipality in the county of Hordaland. Utne is located at the tip of the Folgefonn Peninsula where the Sørfjorden and Hardangerfjorden meet. We passed through Odda and Tyssedal on our way to Utne, where we stayed for two nights at the charming Utne Hotel, which is the oldest hotel in Norway (built in 1722: it was celebrating 300 years of operation this year). The hotel offered a five-course dinner each night, which we barely managed the first night; the second night we opted to eat three of the five courses before we gave up. Utne is located in the apple and cherry region of Hardanger; we were offered an apple cider package with dinner that we enjoyed, with different types of cider that accompanied the different courses, instead of wine. 

While we were in Utne, we managed a day trip to Rosendal (home to the Baroniet Rosendal), making our way there along a very narrow winding scenic road that I have no wish to drive on again--too narrow and too winding. There are spots where it would be impossible to pass an oncoming car or truck. But it was a scenic route, I'll attest to that. The visit to the Baroniet Rosendal was well-worth it; it is a  manor house from 1665 with beautiful gardens and landscapes (Baroniet Rosendal Manor House & Gardens). On the day of our departure, we took the car ferry from Utne to Kinsarvik (a half hour trip) and then drove eastward along the north end of Hardangervidda to Geilo where we ate lunch at the Hallingstuene restaurant that serves very good traditional Norwegian food. We then drove south to Rjukan and stayed overnight at the Rjukan Admini Hotel. We've been to Rjukan before, in 2015, at which time I wrote a blog post about this historic town (A New Yorker in Oslo: Oslo-Rjukan-Heddal-Notodden-Oslo (paulamdeangelis.blogspot.com). This time we stayed at the charming Admini Hotel, which we did not do the first time we were in Rjukan. This hotel offered a three-course dinner as part of the package, which we enjoyed. 

Overall, definitely an enjoyable vacation, although I will say that as I get older I have less and less desire to drive on narrow mountain roads. There can be sturdy guardrails, speed limits, mirrors and the like on those roads, it doesn't matter. I no longer enjoy winding our way high up into the mountain areas or descending from them, although the latter is preferable because I know we'll soon be back on flat ground. I prefer plateaus, farmland, and valleys. But of course you don't get the gorgeous views if you never go into the mountains, that I understand. So I compromise, but there will come a day very soon when I will simply not do it anymore. It makes me too nervous. 

In my next post I'll include some photos of this trip. 

Telling it like it is

Yes, this is the world we live in now. Either you get cancelled for something you might have said thirty or more years ago when you were young (and stupid), or you are at the mercy of certain members of the social media crowd, whose likes, dislikes, and otherwise hate-filled comments can destroy a business or a person. They don't care. But they should, because they are slowly destroying the world with their half-brained idiocy. So again, I say, thank you to Stephan Pastis for nailing this topic once again in your inimitable way. Your humor-filled criticism of some of what goes on on the internet is worth gold. 

Don't be like Bob. Bob is an idiot. 

My new book, A Town and A Valley: Growing Up in Tarrytown and the Hudson Valley, is now published

This year has been a productive one for me so far. Since I retired last September, I've used my free time to garden and to write. I've published three books this year, all of which were years in the making. I finally finished and published my book about growing up in Tarrytown in New York State--A Town and A Valley: Growing Up in Tarrytown and the Hudson Valley. It is available on Amazon as a Kindle e-book:  Amazon.com: A Town and A Valley: Growing Up in Tarrytown and the Hudson Valley eBook : De Angelis , Paula Mary : Kindle Store                

A paperback version is forthcoming. 

Reflective compliance and non-compliance

When I was younger I was more compliant, in the sense that I acquiesced to the wishes of others rather than pressure others to do what I wanted. My will did not trump the will of others in many cases. I was like my father, interested in keeping the peace rather than asserting my own will. I'm not sure that was always a good thing, but it doesn't really matter at this point because that's who I was. I didn't really question my behavior, and my compliance did not involve ultra-serious issues, just so that's clear. Over time my compliance has evolved into a more reflective compliance; I may go along with your plans and wishes, but I choose to do so, knowingly and willingly. My compliance is no longer automatic or non-reflective. It's more a compromise with myself; if I do this now, then I will have time for the things on which I wish to focus later on or tomorrow. And I will have that time because I will it. I won't be talked out of it. It may seem selfish to some, but there is a firm desire in me now to follow that little internal voice that tells me to prioritize my goals and dreams and to not waste time. 

Because that is what it comes down to--time. Time is a precious commodity, not to be squandered on valueless things. I have no desire to be an older person who sits in front of the boob tube 24/7, aimlessly switching from one television channel to the next, desperately trying to find something of interest. I refuse to be automatically compliant with advertisers and media pundits who tell me what I should buy, watch, wear, or spend my time on. The point with all forms of entertainment and media--television, movies, radio, newspapers, social media--is to choose carefully when to let them into our daily lives and for how long. It is to choose carefully how much impact you wish them to have on your daily life. My view? Something of interest is right outside your front door. If you have your health, go for a walk in a nearby park, go for a scenic drive, take up a hobby, garden, learn a new language, spend time with a friend, travel, read a good book, or write. Too many people do not have their health, or live each day with diminishing health. Those are the people whom I think of when I consider how to spend the time that God has given me. Good health is not to be taken for granted, it is a gift not to be squandered. Those I know who do not have their health would agree and they tell me that. 

There is one other thing to consider, and that is that if you are constantly being bombarded by what the media and 'well-meaning' people throw at you and insist that you follow or absorb, you will not have the quiet time to reflect and listen to the voice of God trying to reach you. It's hard to hear God in the midst of the cacophony all around us. I have reached the point where trying to discern the voice of God is more important to me than trying to sort through the discordant voices of men. Because it seems to me that discord, divisiveness, ill will and hatred are what drive very many people, and the media reflect that and whip up the masses even more when they get the chance. As do some people whom I call the 'gloom and doomers', the ones who want to start their day (and yours) by filling their minds with all sorts of societal problems and horrors. I refuse to be led by the nose by the different forms of media and the gloom and doomers who do not have my best interests at heart. In the case of the media, their interests are purely monetary, driven by greed. I won't go down their paths. I choose my own path and follow that little voice inside of me, the one that tells me to continue on the path that I have chosen. Of course I know about the problems, I read about them, but I refuse to be compliant in the sense of giving in and giving up, stating that the world is just crappy and I can't do anything about it. I won't do that, not when there still is a lot of good in the world. It's just to seek out the good in the small places where it lives and blooms, away from the media spotlight.

The Gifts of a Garden

I finally received a hardcover copy of my book, The Gifts of a Garden, after ordering it on Amazon. I am very pleased with how the book looks; I love the cover (designed by photographer and graphic designer Paloma Ayala, and how the book looks generally. I'm proud of it. It is available for purchase on Amazon: The Gifts of a Garden: De Angelis, Paula Mary: 9798833097694: Amazon.com: Books

I need to create a Kindle version (e-book) of the book, which will then allow me to enter it in the Kindle Storyteller UK contest. I will also be sending the hardcover version to The Frankfurt International Book Fair, which is the world's largest trade fair for books. I will do this via The Combined Book Exhibit company, which will display the book for me at the fair. As their website (Print Book Display - Hardcover Copy of Book at Book Fairs (combinedbook.com) states: 

Showcase your paperback or hardcover book at any of our worldwide book fairs we attend. Combined Book Exhibit (CBE) participates in only the major book fairs around the world. Shows include the Frankfurt International Book Fair in Germany and Book Expo/BookCon in New York City, American Library Association and many others. CBE provides many options for authors looking to display their books without having to travel to the show. CBE displays books from large, small, or independent publishers as well as self-published authors.

Marketing a book that one has published is an important and necessary job. Without it, a book won't sell, and I want my book to sell. I have written a press release about it, have advertised it on my Facebook page Books by PM De Angelis, have written about it on my blog, and have informed friends and family by word-of-mouth. It's hard to know what else to do, except to keep on repeating what I've already done in the hope that it will stimulate sales. Time will tell. 

Top Gun: Maverick and Tom Cruise

I went to see the movie Top Gun: Maverick today and was very impressed by it. I wasn't sure what to expect, since this sequel comes thirty-six years after the first Top Gun film. It's said that Tom Cruise held off on making the sequel; if so, I give him credit for having good instincts, because it comes at a time when society could use a real blockbuster film that draws viewers in and thoroughly entertains them. I'm talking about being entertained the way we were entertained by movies from the 1980s--'big' films, amazing flight/action sequences, little to no CGI, real stunts, decent plots and good acting. 

I preface this review by stating up front that I do not care about Tom Cruise's religious affiliations, his personal life, or how much he stands to make from this film. He made a film he believed in and worked hard personally to get it made and to actually make it. He doesn't need me to defend him against any criticism, that I know. But I thank him for making this film, because it restored my desire to go to the movies and not just sit night after night watching series and movies on streaming channels. There is something about the experience of sitting in a movie theater in the dark together with others that appeals to me and always will. I used to love going to the movies. If the movie industry can get back to making films like this, I'll be going to the movies a lot more often. I made a promise to myself that I will try to go to the movies at least once a week from now on. I prefer going to the movies rather than sitting in front of the tv night after night mindlessly flipping through the channels trying to find something interesting to watch. I'm picky, I know. I don't care. I'm 'seried-out', as in, I'm tired of watching/binging an endless series of series. What I want is to watch a really good movie, and Top Gun: Maverick fits that bill. Seeing the film also restored my faith in actors, in the sense that there are still actors out there who love what they do and it shows. They're not just going through the motions. I've got to hand it to Tom Cruise; the man just turned sixty years old and still does most of his own stunts. He deserves a lot of credit for that. You can see in his smile that he loves what he is doing; it shines through. He is a true entertainer, one of the old school, and is probably one of the last top Hollywood actors. 

Of course it takes a village to make a movie; in this case the large numbers of people involved in the collaboration between the movie makers and the US Navy. The flight sequences that Cruise and some of the other actors are involved in are incredible, and that's putting it mildly. They of course did not pilot the F/A-18 Super Hornet planes themselves (non-military personnel are not allowed to do so); that was done by Navy pilots who are experts at piloting these planes. I read online that Cruise wanted the actors to experience firsthand the stress of the immense gravitational forces that the pilots of these fighter jets experience when they fly them, so he and the other actors sat behind them in the planes for some of the flight sequences. That's what makes the experience of the movie even more authentic. The story itself is touching and nostalgic at times, especially when it refers to the original film and the death of Maverick's wingman Goose. The relationships between Maverick (Cruise) and Goose's son Rooster (Miles Teller) and between Maverick and Iceman (Val Kilmer) tug at the heartstrings and actually makes you care about the characters. And the romantic relationship between Maverick and Penny (Jennifer Connelly) is respectful and humorous. 

So thank you to the movie makers, Tom Cruise, the US Navy and everyone else involved in making a memorable and thoroughly entertaining film. Quite an enjoyable way to spend a Wednesday afternoon....

Disengaging

Good advice for daily life......

The need for kindness

I am losing faith in humanity's ability to be kind. I don't see much kindness anywhere, anymore. That may be the fault of the news media; it may be my fault for not searching out the good positive human interest stories. Part of me feels like giving up on the world and isolating myself from most of what is intrusive, unkind, aggressive and unnecessary. It may be counterproductive of me to seek 'away' from the world. In truth, perhaps my energy would be better spent trying to add more kindness to the world, because kindness is necessary in order for us to survive as a people. Without it, we will ensure our destruction. But even trying to add more kindness feels like a futile effort at times. I try to remain kind, but I can't shake the feeling of futileness that hangs over me like a heavy fog. 

I don't know that social media necessarily exacerbates the situation as I see it, but it doesn't help matters. Most of those I know on social media are decent people trying to live decent lives. And yet, some of them fall into the trap of commenting on one thing or another, and suddenly they are dragged into the trolling that goes on, that lives a life of its own long after the actual post they commented on has seen the light of day. Nowadays your opinion, if you have a reasoned one, gets lost in the severity of the response to it. You are told you should have an opinion, but if you do and it isn't the same opinion as the ruling majority in society (that have set themselves up as judge and jury), you are excommunicated. I have begun to say that the Catholic Church at least offers forgiveness for one's transgressions; that's more than the secular media and its supporters offer. You are 'labeled' and the label sticks. No forgiveness for you. This type of response merely forces those who are 'labeled' into a corner where they become even more stubborn and irascible. When I look at it objectively, it's easy to understand that when there is no kindness or attempt at understanding anywhere you turn, you choose your own survival (mental and physical) and the rest be damned. 

Not an uplifting post for a Monday morning, I know. But it is inspired by recent happenings around me. I have discovered that garden enthusiasts are not necessarily nice people; they can be unkind when it serves their purposes. Sometimes their behavior reminds me of what I saw in my former workplace, where some of the leaders harassed those they perceived as weaker than them. An unkind workplace; but now I see that the world outside its walls is also unkind. This particular situation does not affect me personally, but I don't like to see how the other party is being treated. Yet another example is from my former workplace, where a former colleague, who had a 'round' birthday together with another colleague, was not feted in the same way as her colleague; she was deliberately ignored in favor of the other colleague. You might think this does not go on in an 'adult' workplace; if you think so, I have a bridge to sell you. Another example is from my own life; I recently ran an ad on Facebook to promote my new garden book, and as fate would have it, several people responded with an 'angry' emoji. It wasn't quite clear to me why they were angry, and I commented on it in a general way, wondering if they were angry that I wrote a book or angry that I promoted it. I wished them all peace, whereby one of them actually responded in an angry way to my wishing them peace. His response made me understand that the world is truly a crazy place, full of angry people looking for ways to take it out on others. For more examples, you only need to take a look at the world news, with mass shootings in the USA and Europe, the war in Ukraine (and accompanying atrocities), the societal anger in the USA over so many things, and politicians who deliberately refuse to compromise and to take the higher road. Hatred, anger, and stubbornness prevail; they have won. I am not sure where it all will lead, but it's not anywhere good. 

When birds were dinosaurs

Very true. In another era, we might not have thought they were so sweet.......

(Pearls Before Swine by Stephan Pastis)

The Beatles - Eleanor Rigby (From "Yellow Submarine") from 1966

Eleanor Rigby lyrics

Ah, look at all the lonely people

Ah, look at all the lonely people

Eleanor Rigby

Picks up the rice in the church where a wedding has been

Lives in a dream

Waits at the window

Wearing the face that she keeps in a jar by the door

Who is it for?

All the lonely people

Where do they all come from?

All the lonely people

Where do they all belong?

Father McKenzie

Writing the words of a sermon that no one will hear

No one comes near

Look at him working

Darning his socks in the night when there's nobody there

What does he care?

All the lonely people

Where do they all come from?

All the lonely people

Where do they all belong?

Ah, look at all the lonely people

Ah, look at all the lonely people

Eleanor Rigby

Died in the church and was buried along with her name

Nobody came

Father McKenzie

Wiping the dirt from his hands as he walks from the grave

No one was saved

All the lonely people (ah, look at all the lonely people)

Where do they all come from?

All the lonely people (ah, look at all the lonely people)

Where do they all belong?