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 A new blog to contain answers to prompts |
Since my old blog "Everyday Canvas "  became overfilled, here's a new one. This new blog item will continue answering prompts, the same as the old one. Cool water cascading to low ground
To spread good will and hope all around.  |
| Prompt: Have fun with these quotes: "November’s dress code: sweater in the morning, regret by noon, blanket burrito by night." — Unknown "This month I’m thankful for elastic waistbands and friends who understand second helpings are non-negotiable." — Unknown ------------- Two playful quotes about November, one about the fashion chaos, the other about its sweet and starchy food and what it does to waists. All this mayhem and commotion for an in-between month, too! In-between because its air still remembers summer, but the trees up north insist it's time for winter. Even, here, in Florida, the weather goes berserk in November. As the weather report indicated last night, a cold front is on the way with those Northern 40s to arrive two days later, this Monday, while just yesterday, I had the AC on, even if for a couple of hours. Since very few homes in this area have fireplaces, I guess I'll have to miss the faint smell of wood smoke in the air; however, you can bet I'll reach for a cozy sweater or two and add an extra blanket on the bed. Then, with warm drink in hand, I'll feel autumnal, as if I were back in NY state again. I only wish any sweater I am going to wear on Monday and/or Tuesday doesn't quickly turn into a portable sauna, making me realize nothing much had changed about the weird Florida weather. And after this cold front exits, I hope, Florida's November doesn't go full blast into the summer again when even the thinnest tee-shirt feels too much, unless I turn on the AC again. But then, doesn't the comfort of any weather a fleeting thing with a false-friend personality? False friend though it is, November suffers from mood swings. Yet, it teaches me flexibility, humor, and the art of sudden switching when it comes to what I might wear. |
| Prompt: "You can't backspace your life but you can start a new chapter." Write about this in your Blog entry today. --------- Doesn't this quote mean, "You can't go back, so go ahead"? My question to this quote is: "Do we really have a choice, here?" I mean if mistakes or closed doors and the ends of relationships were written in stone, none of us would be surviving this life in the first place, would we? Mistakes and what has come to past are not written as the end of our story--in unerasable ink. I know some of us have trouble with letting go, for one reason or another. Still, those who kept staying in failed relationships and wallowed in grief over things that have come to past do exist. So sad! Our lives don't need to look like polished best-sellers, but they are our very own stories that we have to keep writing. Some pages may still feel unfinished, but that’s okay. As long as we keep on writing and we keep on editing...with love. Yes, love...for ourselves and for those around us who care for us. In the first place, new beginnings have the power to put the past behind us. That past could be losing someone to death, surviving a divorce, moving to a new city or country, making a career change, or letting our children live their own lives once they've grown up. I have to admit, letting go of the past is a huge job, a very difficult one, as I have personally experienced during the last several years. Yet, how do we start? I'd say let's start by reevaluating our routine and maybe come up with a new routine, or do something we always wanted to do but couldn't earlier, or do something out of the ordinary, such as learning something new or polishing up something we have put aside due to the old ways and their restrictions. This means rediscovering what we really enjoy. There are many various ways to rewrite our stories, I am sure, especially when we need to. Rather than look back and miss what has changed, we may need to think about what we can do now that we couldn’t before. In whichever way we handle our lives, the years go by, anyhow, so we might as well be where we would like to be. Granted, a new start can be scary, sad, and exciting, or all those feelings rolled into one. I don't think we have a choice but go ahead in the best way and fashion to make ourselves feel alive again, no matter how old or young we are. Who knows, we might find out that change in itself can be exciting, too. |
| Prompt: What is your favorite November tradition? Write about this in your Blog entry today. ------- No wonder some call November the season of nesting! Romantic wording though this might be, the month isn't only putting on a sweater and feeling warm. It is a time for celebrating life, what was and what is, and feeling grateful for everything. When my family was intact, that is my husband was still alive and kids hadn't flown the coop yet, I used to light candles, every now and then during this month, not just for their scent, but for the flickering, motion-filled ambiance they offered against the grayness of the November sky. Another thing we did in November, way back when, when we lived up north, was the raking of the fall leaves. At the time, we had a two-acre yard, with tall oak, elm, red maple, and eastern pine trees. plus a small apple orchard. This meant bags and bags of dead leaves needing to be raked. I think I got my best exercise raking those leaves during those days, despite the fact that our New-Foundland Joe would jump into the piles, scatter them frolicking, and give us a hard time. But he was really so cute, and despite our weariness, we enjoyed his antics. That is...until Thanksgiving, the USA tradition that placed gratitude in the center of our lives. So, we started getting ready for Thanksgiving, several days earlier. During those pre-Thanksgiving days, something always simmered on the stove, beef and bone stock, chili, and even apple cider to be offered--warm with spices--to our sons when they came home from school. Then, afterwards, came the cooking marathon of the Thanksgiving day for my family and guests, too, if we got lucky to have guests. Later on, when we moved down south, we celebrated Thanksgiving with some friends, especially a friend who insisted to host us because she just couldn't not-see her many friends as well as us during the holiday. Luckily, she had a very big house with very big dining room, and I still contributed what I could, although she didn't ask me or her other guests for contributions. A few years ago, she passed away from cancer and her whole family scattered all over the continent. But I still recall her hospitality and her lavish Thanksgiving dinners. My family, my late husband, and our friends who are no more made November a month of foundation with a cozy reminder to be grateful for all the people who came and went out of my life. So, November with its deep shadows and bursts of sunlight, every now and then, is still a month to savor. This is because, sometimes, the greatest joys are found in my memories and the stillness and gratitude in me that they inspire. |
| Prompt: Coffee "Why, yes, I could start my day without coffee. But I like being able to remember things like how to say words and put on pants." Nanea Hoffman How important is coffee in your daily life? --------- Coffee isn't supposed to be important at all in my daily life because my doctors have cruelly banned it. Banned or not, I like coffee. There is no denying that. I found out, however, despite the ban, I can put on my pants just fine. I don't know about words, though. That question is for the people who hear me talk. On the other hand, after the ban, I tend to forget the names of a few things, like places and people that I haven't made contact for some time. It isn't only me missing the coffee, however. It may just be that coffee is missing me, too. It must be missing my deep dive into geography and flavor. After all, during the times when I was allowed to drink coffee, I knew the taste difference between the naturally processed coffee from Brazil and the washed out Ethiopian one. Instead of my friendly interest, nowadays, the baristas have elevated making coffee to an art form, as if the coffee-drinkers are seeing beauty instead of comfort and taste when they are stressed. These new methods of making coffee, even in the middle of our local mall, suggest an new layer of importance: identity formation, turning coffee into a social lubricant. But I mustn't blame the new methods. Originally, the coffee houses were the places for social gatherings, too, and there is no denying that. It was where writers, inventors, and adventurers shared their ideas and stories. A coffee house, then, was something like a pub, but without the booze. Even today, nobody ever says to an old friend they meet on the street, "Let's grab a glass of water. " They say, "Let's grab a cup of coffee and talk." In short, coffee is not just a beverage; it is a catalyst, an anchor, and a daily benediction, and I miss it. And between us, I cheat the doctors once in a while, like right now, while I sip from my cup. |
| Prompt: Write about a place or places, real or imagined, that are or were significant to you. ------------- So many places, in my life, that mean a lot to me...I can't even count them. I'll, therefore, make do with whichever place comes to my mind. But first, this: A place, any place, merely sets the stage. The significance of it is in the event and the people in it. The earliest place I can think of is the "Cat Room." My aunt who lived with us until she married was a real cat lady. She'd feed many cats and take the sickly or pregnant ones into the cat room and care for them until they were well enough and would want to go out on their own. Some of those cats stayed, some inside the house, others in the backyard. As to the cat-room, it was an extra room, not too big, which nobody had any use for, since at that time we were living in the biggest house that my family had ever occupied earlier. At least, it looked big to the three to four-year-old me. I'll never forget that cat-room and the love I received from those cats. The second place that comes to mind is the huge kitchen in another, later house. This house was three stories high and on the first floor, after the entrance and a hallway, was the entire kitchen. By this time, I was in my teens, a stage in life when kitchens mean nothing to most, but ours did to me. This is because our kitchen was more than a kitchen. For being huge, not only it had cooking and storage areas, but also, in the middle of those an empty space which had a dining table that could easily seat 12 people. Although we had a dining room on the side of the first floor, everyone loved this kitchen, beginning with yours truly. That kitchen was our anchor with a sacred value. It was a place where, visitors and family alike, wanted to eat in. I recall several guests telling my mother, "Don't bother with the dining room. Let's just eat in the kitchen." So that kitchen became holy, sort of. It was a place where everyone felt comfortable enough to tell and say anything, even their most private matters. I loved that kitchen. It was where we argued, loved, learned, and dreamt. These two places are my biographical landmarks. When I recall them I hear the echo of me, the very young person that I once was. If the walls of these places can speak, they would speak of a history only I, and maybe some others, too, can understand. Later on, I also loved lots of places, mostly vacation seasides, rocky shores, seas in action against the wind and the storms, and those lovely little towns my husband and I kept visiting because we both loved the aura and personality of small towns and their many varied ways of life with internal meanings. The memory of all these places, even today, bind me to their unique universes as if they are still sacred, divine, and lovable, and with great depth. |
| Prompt: AI in human brain If it were possible to insert an AI capacity in a human brain without messing up the human brain's natural abilities, would you approve it and would you have AI inserted in your own brain? ---------------- This is a hypothetical question, but I feel it needed to be asked. To start from the bottom, no, I would not have AI inserted in my brain. Imagine a weirdo getting hold of a special way of influencing all the AI'ed brains and making them do weird things, worse yet terrible things, to other humans. Besides, I'm too old to deal with much smartness, but not that I don't need at least a bit of it. I asked this question online and this is what I got as response: "In theory, yes — it might one day be possible to integrate an artificial intelligence system with a human brain, in a way that doesn’t harm its natural functioning. Scientists are already working on brain–computer interfaces (BCIs), like those developed by Neuralink or university research labs, that can read neural signals and even stimulate certain brain areas to restore function or aid communication." Come to think of it, if it were possible, this would take care of many ailments, such as strokes, paralysis, memory-loss and such. Yet, this has to be precise and not harm the personality of the human who is being helped. Then, I don't think we can upgrade a brain as if a computer because, when its emotional and dynamic ways of working are messed with, it may just collapse. I certainly don't want to live with a collapsed brain, as much as I envy the quickness and thoroughness of AI. Still. if it were possible, its consequences would be revolutionary. Imagine this: perfect memory recall, faster problem-solving, instant language learning, new forms of creativity, a much better understanding of others. On the negative side, we'd end up with a whole new class system: Augmented humans vs the natural ones. That certainly would end up in an identity crises. This all comes down to another question: Will humans be more like machines or machines be more like humans? This chain of thought makes me worry about us humans. I mean, what if we loose our human center in the process? It would mean knowledge without meaning. I'm not so sure I'd be comfortable with that. |
| Prompt: “In November, the smell of food is different. It is an orange smell. A squash and pumpkin smell. It tastes like cinnamon and can fill up a house in the morning, can pull everyone from bed in a fog. Food is better in November than any other time of the year.” Cynthia Rylant, Do you agree with her assessment food tastes better? What's your favorite autumn dish? -------- I don't know if food tasted better for some in November, but food tastes from good to great to me, any time during the year.  Come to think of it, it may just be because I, too, use cinnamon a lot. But then, I use most of the other spices, too, when I cook. This makes me believe that it is God's blessing that I don't weigh 200 lbs, and in fact, my weight has always been quite normal and on the healthy side.As a popular myth, Autumn's food is usually thought of as being earthy, sweet, and warmly spiced. That it is; however, it is no better or worse than the food during any other month. I think we focus on the food in autumn more because we don't want to face the winter's chill too early. Isn't November the time, in most places, when the air grows crisp, sweaters come out of hiding, and ACs stop working...even in my case at down south, here? Also, autumn is the harvest season when the starchy and the sweet stuff are in season, such as apples, pumpkins, squash, and sweet potatoes. This means more roasting or baking. Plus. autumn with its cozy drinks is comforting, too. Aren't steaming mugs of hot cider, spiced lattes, or dark hot chocolate topped with whipped cream perfect companions to us on a cool afternoon? Then, at any time, I like playing with food, anyway. Isn't this a lot of fun? Such fun reminds me of my mother's correcting me when I was little, "Don't play with your food. Eat it!" Her admonitions alone may still be urging me to do exactly the opposite now, to play with food in my kitchen. Autumn season makes us play with food, too. Pumpkin carving turns into a snack session when the seeds are roasted with salt. Farmers’ markets become treasure hunts for colorful gourds, freshly pressed cider, and pies of every kind. That is pecan, apple, and pumpkin pies. Yummm! So autumn food turns out to be more than nourishment. It turns meals into celebrations, like Thanksgiving and family gatherings. Best yet, it becomes nature's and our most, and in some instances last, offering of comfort and sweetness before the slowing down time during the winter months. |
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As far as continued imbibing of that delicious beverage is concerned - you go, girl (but at a level unlikely to prematurely remove your valued presence from our own).
