nodding politely

The first one in the left corner: It’s a first communion rosary, and it’s not cheap.

The black one in the first line: That’s a widow rosary and it’s old.

The white one in the second line:  is a commemoration rosary. It has a miniature picture in the round part. I haven’t seen that since the 70′s.

In the third line, multicolor one: It’s an Anima mundi, I have only seen those in the hands of Rosary ministery’s old ladies. The oldest ones are from the 80′s after Juan Pablo II came to Mexico for the first time. It’s one of the old ones, I know because the crucifixes are different.  The third one on the fourth line: Red and gold. The style is old, the metal is dark, that’s a 50′s rosary, probably a quinceañera one (or it’s maybe older, from the 40′s when the brides carried red roses with their offerings).

The fifth one on the fourth line: It’s a quinceañera rosary with Ignatius’s tear. The style is old and in my part of Mexico is orphan girls who used it. At least it was when I was young. The third one of the fifth line: the blue one with the anchor. That one I have only seen in Veracruz and it doesn’t look new. The fifth one on the fifth line: That’s a 90′s wedding rosary. Black and white patterns were popular on that date. The fourth one on the last line: That’s a first communion rosary from the 30′s. It’s delicate and most probably silver. The rest wrench my heart too, the humble everyday rosaries with wooden beads and knots. Those are cheap and bear the wear and tear of their user handling. But those  I described are much more.

Those are mother’s rosaries.

For the new year, Iran decorates its capital, Tehran. Around the city, colorful eggs are placed everywhere and each one is decorated differently.

Transliteration: nowruz mobārak / sāl-e no mobārak

COOKING - creativity is okay

BAKING - stick to the recipe (you can usually adjust sugar content to taste, though)

Harvesting red gold ( Saffron )

Photos: Fatemeh Abedi / Mehr News Agency

              Mohammad Safarpur / IRNA News Ageny

use tools

Can be taught to speak (like parrots)

Have huge brains for birds

like seriously their brain-to-body size ratio is equal to that of a chimpanzee

They vocalize anger, sadness, or happiness in response to things

they are scary smart at solving puzzles

some crows stay with their mates until one of them dies

they can remember faces

SIDENOTE HERE BECAUSE HOLY SHIT.  They did an experiment where these guys wore masks and some of them fucked with crows.  Pretty soon the crows recognized the masks = douchebag.  But the nice guys with masks they left alone.  THEN, OH WE’RE NOT DONE, NO SIR crows that WEREN’T EVEN IN THE EXPERIMENT AND NEVER SAW THE MASK BEFORE knew about mask-dudes and attacked them on sight.  THEY PASSED ON THE FUCKING INFORMATION TO THEIR CROW BUDDIES.

They remember places where crows were killed by farmers and change their migration patterns.

Every day, I would watch Buck from my window until one day I opened it and started talking to him. He was small and gangly and he couldn’t caw right. His feathers were all over the place and I felt a kinship. So I made a deal with him. I told him that if he could do it, if he could fly, then I could find the strength to get up. Well… near the end of the season, after talking with him every day, I finally saw him get out of the nest. He went to the edge of his branch, braced himself, and jumped… and just before he hit the ground, he soared back up into the sky. I cheered harder than I ever had before.

That winter, Buck left the area. I was crestfallen. I felt like I’d lost a friend. But I was so damn proud of him. 

Cut to the next spring? I’m walking up the driveway one day when suddenly I hear a sound… a broken caw. I look up, and Buck is sitting in a tree above my head. He stared at me and puffed his feathers, then hopped down in front of me and cawed again. I was so damn thrilled, and I told him how proud I was of him. He ruffled his feathers and then soared off into his old tree. 

That summer? I heard two broken caws. One from Buck… and one from his chick.

i tried to get close and take a better look and one of them dived super low and tried to attack me. so i went back in the house and chopped some sliced raw meat and tossed it at him from a distance.

a few more times later, very soon after, they could tell i was trying to help, and did not attack me. i was “allowed” to walk up close and pick him up, he couldn’t drink water properly so i had to dip my finger in a bowl and stick it in his mouth.

i did this few times a day and it went on for about a week before he disappeared, i thought he recovered and left, but he came back the next day and lands on me, and i see him around the block quite often, and he would come sit on my shoulder for a few minutes and then fly away again. i feel like i’ve adopted a son.

As a side note, I volunteered at a rehab (Hope for Wildlife), where they were rehabbing a crow with a broken wing–who was named Russell Crow. He kept pulling his bandage off so a sleeve was cut off some old clothing and put on him like a little sweater. 

By now, you’ve probably seen the video of Trudeau’s epic meltdown in response to the persistent protesters who disrupted his town hall last Friday in Nanaimo, B.C.

After trying repeatedly to quell the noisy hecklers who were determined to ruin his love-in, Trudeau finally lost his patience and flipped out.

“Ach, come on! COME on! Really? Really?” he erupted.

“Will you please respect the people in this room?” he asked his antagonist, three times. “No? Then please leave.”

The crowd roared its approval.

“If you’re not going to respect the people in this room, you need to leave. That’s the rule. Sorry, go ahead,” he snapped, with a dismissive wave of his hand, as the cops moved in to remove his offender.

As I sat watching the live-streamed spectacle unfold, I couldn’t help but think that those words and that exchange will live in infamy.

Potentially, they will serve as Trudeau’s political epitaph.

Many Canadians—especially in British Columbia—are growing increasingly exasperated by his actions, at the behest of Big Oil, to ram through the $7.4-billion Trans Mountain pipeline expansion project. It would triple the flow of diluted bitumen from Alberta’s tar sands to Kinder Morgan’s marine terminal in Burnaby, B.C.

“We’ve always struggled with finding a quick way of communicating why #TheZoneCast is worth listening to. Hopefully, this trailer for the Balance arc does the trick. Thanks for sharing it with everyone on Earth.”