msfntor

Please!.. - Have you already been on your morning walk? I have been, and will go again soon....

@D.Draker, it's about the salamanders (which are NOT lizards, sorry, but amphibians, similar to lizards!). When I was a child, I played with wild salamanders in small ponds, VERY cute and nice to touch! Found this link for you: https://www.britannica.com/animal/salamander

Hi @XPerceniol and @D.Draker, it's cool, read some latest posts about cute cat (then cats) adoption, in another topic ("Be mindful...").

A single cat leads to another cat We exclusively release the first chapter of 'Días para ser Gato', the second book of our first cat, who is already an expert in feline matters. Mía and Atún in full observation. PEDRO ZUAZUA Madrid - 25 APR 2022 - 12:16ACTUALIZED: 25 APR 2022 - 13:18 UTC If you want to write about being human, keep a couple of cats at home. Aldous Huxley Between my cat's happiness or being a person of my word, I chose the former. In June 2016, after repeating actively and passively to anyone who would listen to me that a cat would not enter my house, Mia appeared. That tiny, adorable, playful being transformed my life in a way I could never have imagined. It's not a commonplace: I developed a love for animals I never knew existed, became a tenant in my own home, became the manager of my cat's Instagram account, wrote a book that sells in several countries and, above all, became the preferred phone number of everyone I know who came in contact with a cat. It doesn't matter what kind of relationship: they want to adopt? They write to me. They meet one in the street? they write to me. They write to me. They receive a video, a photo or a montage? They forward it to me. Since June 2016, 80% of the images I have on my cell phone are of cats. The people who investigate what we do with our phones must be freaking out. At the same time that Mía was taking over the household, a routine was taking hold that was quite pleasant for both of us. After the first few weeks, in which arriving home was a lottery of small novelties in the form of damage, we began to lay the foundations of an unequal idyll: I was dying of love for her and she listened to me whenever she felt like it. And that made me love her even more. Because that's how life, in general, and love, in particular, works. When she came home from work, she would come out to meet me at the door. She would lie on her back and beg for caresses. After dinner, when I lay down on the couch, he would come and climb on my belly and start kneading me with his front paws. Some people are always chasing abs of steel. If they are going to adopt a cat, it is more advisable to have some belly, because it is squishy and they can knead it to their heart's content. I forgot to include this vital change in the opening paragraph: I used to have a ripped abs and a sculpted body. No, I'm kidding. I was already very well equipped to have a cat. Cover of the book 'Días para ser gato' (Days to be a cat). After a while of kneading, she would lay her two front paws down and fall asleep on my chest while purring. I would stroke her chin and crown of her head - cats love to be stroked on the parts they can't lick themselves - and I would be toast. I'd go to bed and, after a while, she'd come in. She used to set up in one of the corners. She would spend half the night there. Sometimes she would go on a night excursion where she didn't take into account that there was someone else in the bed. Other times, he would get out and start banging his paw on the closet door, insistently asking me to open it for him. She would go in and lie there asleep until dawn. In the mornings, she would watch me in the shower. Afterwards, she would accompany me to watch me serve her food. Before I left the house, she would stand in the corner waiting for the treats. When I closed the door, she would give me that face that only cats know how to make and with which I didn't know if she was telling me that I had the courage to leave her alone all day or if, in reality, she was about to make a fist, bend her elbow and bring her arm inwards, while saying "Here, finally alone! That, the loneliness, was the only reason I was considering adopting another cat. I travel quite a bit for work - sometimes a whole week - and although I am fortunate to have very good friends who came over daily and even stayed over, I was overwhelmed at the thought of all the time Mia spent alone. For a long time, the supposed inconvenience of bringing another cat into the house outweighed it. I was terrified of Mia's reaction. A moderately happy cat, master of her space, adapted to her routines... the queen of the house, indeed. Tuna rests under the blanket. We were already made for each other. We often acted out that typical scene of a person reading on the couch on a Sunday afternoon, with the cat sleeping at her feet in a ball. All we lacked was a fireplace. For three years I kept repeating the phrase "No other cat in my house" to everyone who asked me if I wasn't going to adopt a brother or sister for Mía. Perhaps because I had already demonstrated the volatility of my word, I perceived a certain ironic smile when they listened to me. The most direct was my friend Bilbo, who always said, "You start with one..." (Bilbo, by the way, has a brother named Frodo. It's not a fact that has anything to do with cats, but it's funny). All the people who shared their lives with cats told me about the benefits of having (at least) two of them, about the company they kept, how much they played, how when you go on a trip they are not so lonely.... It reminded me of my last moments of resistance before adopting Mia. I kept saying no with my mouth, but my subconscious already knew when and how. Another thing is that I refused to recognize it. But because I had one, I was already clear about the name. Tuna scans his domain. The trips were increasing. And the influence of cats is inexorable. My environment was divided between those who saw it clearly and those who thought it was a bit crazy. My friend Barbara and my televeterinarian Vero insisted that I should do it. My mother told me not to even think about it. I think the poor thing could see me living with eighty cats. I changed my mind depending on the day: some days, I was determined; others, I backed out and said no way. I would think about what a drag it would be to clean two sandboxes, carry two carriers, buy two types of food, endure the adaptation period, the risk of getting a terrorist cat, the neutering.... But then I saw Mia's little face every time I closed the door of the house with the suitcase in my hand and I thought that maybe it wasn't so bad to give her a little company. In a sort of mental funnel, all my worries were reduced to one: won't I destroy the poor thing's existence? But life is about moving forward. When we have a situation moderately under control, we tend to complicate ourselves (understand that we are talking about adopting another cat and that it is taken for granted that there are other much more interesting ways to complicate life and also to complicate it unintentionally). Otherwise, it would all be very boring. Almost four years after Mia's arrival, I started looking for a sibling for her. When the little Tuna crossed the door of the house, I remembered Hemingway's phrase: "A single cat leads to another cat". The three of us were about to start a new life. HERE: https://elpais.com/elpais/2022/04/25/animalesycia/1650887548_928221.html

How 'Mía' met her grandmother The author's cat discovers cannelloni, Vetusta Morla and a place to take a nap at Christmastime When you adopt a cat, you are doing a mental exercise in feline risk prevention. No matter the process. It will always fall short. Previously non-controversial events will come up that suddenly border on the dramatic. Christmas, for example. Or, even more so, your cat's first Christmas at your mother's house. For those of you who don't have time to read on, a summary: love didn't arise, but almost. On December 23rd Mía went north to Oviedo. Freshly spayed (and in need of a second stitching, as she got the urge to pick at her stitches) she endured a trip through traffic jams and fog that lasted almost seven hours. She only meowed when she heard her name. I decided to take Mia on a trip for a very simple and very stupid reason: it broke my heart to imagine her alone on Christmas Eve. So, even though my mother is not at all fond of animals, off we went. I packed a bag with her favorite toys, food and that great friend of traveling cats, Feliwey. As soon as we arrived, when we opened his carrier, he ignored my mother, who had come out to greet us, and went straight to my room. I guess it was the smell. My friend Catalina had bought me a sandbox and two containers for food and drink that were the size of Manute Bol's cat, so I had to steal a container from the crockery (sorry, Mom). The truth is that Mia seemed to adjust well. The first night I was more worried than she was, judging by the runs she made and the fact that she didn't pay any attention to me at any time. She quickly picked a spot on a couch near the window, and I put her cushion there. Here 'Mia', usurping the bed of my youth. PEDRO ZUAZUA The next morning came the first test of fire. At my mother's house one person works a couple of hours a day. And yes, you guessed it, she is allergic to cats. That allergy led to a sort of Yellow Humor door test, with Mia moving from room to room depending on which part of the house was being cleaned at the time. And you know how unfriendly cats are to closed doors. While I was reading Bruce Springsteen's biography, she was giving a concert next to the door. At home, the risks are more or less under control. The stove is always locked, no one opens the windows and almost nothing is left to the chance of catlike mischief. But of course, in the house of your 76-year-old mother who, of course, does whatever she wants, you have to impose the cat rules in a very subtle way. And explain, for example, that no matter how calm she seems, it is not that she will suddenly get a deer and jump out the window, but that she has a thing called instinct and that is why when she sees a bird, although she has never hunted one in her life, she loses control over her body and travels thousands of years back in time, to her origins. Mía' becoming strong in my mother's armchair. PEDRO ZUAZUA My mother tried, but she couldn't be affectionate with Mía. She called her "Gati" and tried to strike up conversations with her (I do it sometimes too, so less laughter). And that hardly ever saw her scratching the couches. When that happened, I would look at Mía with a "stop it, this is not our house" face and she would stop for a second, look at me, and adopt that feline attitude: "I don't care if it's our house or not, I'm a cat and I do what I want when I want". Of course, Mía knew that my mother's couch is my mother's couch... maybe that's why as soon as my mother got up, she ran to lie on top of the backrest. New Year's Eve was a drama. There were cannelloni for lunchtime. When I got home, Mia was starting a foray into the fountain. Since they were solely for me, I didn't say anything (sorry, Mom). I separated out the part I had been digging into and ate the rest. They were delicious, by the way. In the evening, I went to dinner at a friends' house. When I called to congratulate her on the new year, they told me that they had to lock her in the bathroom. She had become obsessed with the grapes and kept trying to get to the different places they moved them to. She probably didn't care about the grapes themselves. But if they were hiding something from her, that was a big deal. She also stuck her paw and tongue in the scorpion fish pâté for dinner, but since everyone saw that, there was no way to save it (sorry, mom). 'Mía', on a break from her New Year's Eve grape attack. PEDRO ZUAZUA When I returned home at 4:30 in the morning, he did not come out to meet me at the door. I was surprised. I looked everywhere and there was no sign of her. I opened the door to my mother's room, in case she had been locked in (I could not understand any other reason why she would not have come out to greet me, as she always does, since she is my cat for a reason). Not a trace. I opened the door to my aunt's room, who had come to spend a few days with us. Not a trace. And that's when I started to worry. And what does someone like me do when she worries? Wake up his mother, to help him look for her and, above all, to share the worry with someone with some sense. My poor mother almost had a scare. First because of the shock of being woken up at that hour. Then because of the hypotheses that were going through her head (her main fear was that she had run out of air in a drawer) and then because of how scary it must be to have such a silly child. Mia was in my aunt's room, who always sleeps with the radio on. And Mía likes voices and music. When she appeared, Vetusta Morla was playing on Radio Nacional. My aunt is very modern. So at 4:45 we all went to sleep, starting the year off right. With the arrival of 2017, things started to go better. Although, mind you, my mother kept having the same phone conversation with everyone who called home: "Pedro well, here he is, but don't miss it, he came with cat!". And she would then begin a series of explanations about the pedrada that her youngest son handles. My mother told me that she had been lying next to him while she was napping, and I sensed some illusion in her words. But one afternoon, when I returned home, Mía was waiting for me at the door, as she always does when she is not listening to Vetusta Morla in my aunt's room. When I arrived, my mother told me that she had been lying next to her while she was taking a nap, and I sensed some illusion in her words. In the following days, in the morning, she would always say to me, "Where did Mia sleep today, that she didn't come to see me?". There something similar to love was being born, not love, but affection. And then came Epiphany. And, next to the family gifts appeared a small circular scratching post with eyes and a little ball tied to a string. It was my mother's gift for Mía. "She's just like my granddaughter," she said. On the return trip, Mía didn't whimper. When we arrived in Madrid, she recognized the house, saw that everything was in order, gave me a reproachful look for having forgotten her cushion, and went to sleep on my chest. I think he missed his grandmother. P.S: Mom, by the time you read this I suppose you will have picked up the Nativity Scene and noticed that either the mule or the ox - I don't know which is which - has a nice sticking of hair around its neck. It was Mia, yes, but a granddaughter can be forgiven anything, can't she? HERE: https://elpais.com/elpais/2017/01/16/animalesycia/1484590219_026866.html#?rel=mas

The first day (and night) with 'Mía'. How I learned that cats always do whatever they want and that anything under a sheet is susceptible to being bitten. PEDRO ZUAZUA Madrid - 14 SEP 2016 - 11:42 UTC Exactly one year ago I told my best friend: "Look Miguel, in my house a cat doesn't enter. Period." Well I lied. Not entirely, since it has finally been a cat, but wow, that's the only argument I can hold on to to not be slaughtered for going back on my word (and more so in front of a friend who will use it to his advantage in any debate). Mía usurping the TV remote control. PEDRO ZUAZUA The thing is that Mía, a common European white and light brown cat, arrived home on Sunday morning, June 19. She was just two months old. She arrived in a bag (my girlfriend Barbara's, the one that made all this possible) and, on the way to her new home, she stuck her head out and looked attentively at everything that was going on around her. When he arrived, he sniffed everything. Like a good first-time parent, I put his food, water and sandbox in the same corner of the house. I filled the feeder to the top, in case the apocalypse came, and I let him loose a couple of toys around the house (a very nice hedgehog and a phosphorescent yellow stuffed animal that disappeared the first day and that, despite its striking appearance, has not reappeared). He neither ate nor drank, but took a good nap on the bookshelf, on a catalog of the work of the painter Dario de Regoyos. During that first afternoon, I changed the traditional visits to the traditional cat videos for more professional consultations. In La loca de los gatos I discovered some tricks and suddenly I found myself building a toy with an old shoe box, exploring corners of the house to leave hidden prizes (cats are hunters, guys!) and studying every movement she made, to see if it was a symptom of something. Yes, I checked several times to see if he was still breathing. When she woke up, I played with her for a while with the unhappy illusion of tiring her out for the night. The first day with a cat one learns several things: among them that they do what they want, when they want and the way they want. Mia decided she wanted to win my heart by falling asleep on my belly while we watched TV. At the same time that an Albanian named Sadiku scored the winning goal for his team against Romania, my cat crossed her front paws and closed her eyes. Mía prefers to sleep among books. PEDRO ZUAZUA And of course, I melted. Especially because I could not anticipate the night that awaited me, full of purring, meowing and a strange fondness for trying to massage my hair. I could barely sleep for 20 minutes at a time. The first night with a cat you also learn that anything hidden under a sheet or blanket is susceptible to being bitten and scratched. And also that "No!" is enough to make them look at you for a second with a "Are you talking to me?" face, but that pedagogically the method still needs some evolution. When it dawned, I didn't know if I hated her or loved her. But there was no turning back. I had already posted a picture of Mia on my Instagram profile, and you know, in the cat world, an Instagram is forever. HERE: https://elpais.com/elpais/2016/09/14/animalesycia/1473847475_844173.html#?rel=mas

A cat does not enter my house. Period. The first-time cat guy comes out of the closet (and writes a book). We publish the first chapter Mía'. the cat that did come into the house, taking a selfie with me. PEDRO ZUAZUA 30 APR 2018 - 14:38 UTC -A cat doesn't come into my house. Period. I also remember having a German Shepherd puppy for three days during which we acted as a liaison between the family that gave her up and the family that adopted her. Since we didn't have a leash, we would take her outside on a leash from my father. When I was a child, my father agreed to buy me a duck at the El Fontán market in Oviedo. Don't ask me why I asked for it or why he said yes, as there is no logical explanation. The fact is that Alfred J. Kwak (that's what I called him) came to live with us. His space was in the kitchen, in a big cardboard box. There we would leave him milk (do ducks drink milk?) and food. We would put a silver foil blanket for him to do his business and every so often we would take him out for a walk around the house. A little yellow duck in an apartment, what a great idea. The thing is that two weeks later we went to the town of my maternal grandparents. Fuentes de Ropel, in Castilla y León, whose main characteristic is that it is almost equidistant from Zamora, León and Valladolid, which seems easy, but it is not. And the duck came with us, of course. He traveled in the trunk - "That way he doesn't get dizzy", my mother reasoned- and, when we arrived, I took him straight up to my room. In the evening I was persuaded to leave him outside in the yard. That was the last time I saw him. The next morning, Alfred J. Kwak was gone. My parents told me that a cat had eaten him. It was the shortest way they could find not to tell me that a duck had rather little meaning in our house and that they had decided to leave him at a farm in town. He took my bed already on the first day. PEDRO ZUAZUA That's exactly where my relationship with animals ended. Until my girlfriend Barbara adopted a small Siamese cat named Micu. She was a rickety, skinny, shy little creature who spent the first few days in her new home hiding in a hole behind the toilet cistern. Barbara wasn't much of a cat lover either, but she told us every day of the kitten's progress. We laughed and called her the Crazy Cat Lady. And me, I admit it, Micu scared me. When he approached me, I would tense up; and when he wanted to play, I would offer him my clenched fist, so he wouldn't scratch me. The first minutes of 'Mía' in the house. PEDRO ZUAZUA Barbara, like any self-respecting cat owner, began her work of evangelization: that if you don't know the company they keep, that if you don't know the joy they give, that they are super agile and never throw anything (lie). And of course, with a couple of butts of cider, the bricks of my anti-cat wall deteriorated almost imperceptibly. From "no cat in my house. And that's it", I went on to inquire about the goodness of the animal. And you know that from asking questions to start seeing pictures of cats on social networks is only a step away. And you have to admit that these little animals are very photogenic and cute, and that you don't have to take them for a walk three times a day, and that they can stay home alone for a weekend, and that they are very clean... But no, I said that a cat doesn't fit in my house. Period. Mine in the attitude of the owner of the house. PEDRO ZUAZUA Because, at that moment, I still had the strength to resist. At the end of the debate, a kind of unknown lucidity appeared and made me say: "No, really, I'm not ready to have a cat. I don't want it, I won't take good care of it and it won't be happy with me". And so on, until the next dinner. However, the poison was already there. Inoculated. To cut a long story short, I'll tell you that cat owners' networks are inexorable, and once they smell the blood of a new victim, they don't let go until it accepts. Then began the phase of bombardment of photos and videos of candidates. I, for some reason, preferred a female. (Note that, as if it were the most normal thing in the world, I had already gone from steadfastly refusing to anticipate the sex of my cat). I had read (that is, I was reading about cats) that females are better behaved and have a more bearable character. Also that they are more affectionate. Although I had taken it for granted that it was a real lottery. I had even seen that cats born to three-colored specimens are mean, but I don't know the scientific basis for this claim. The first time in my life I saw 'Mia'. The first candidate came to me by video. It was sent by Isaac and Luis, a couple of friends of mine who have two cats, Tina and Garcia. The lady who takes care of them when they go on vacation (the pets, not them, of course) collected cats and placed them in foster homes. The cat was a blue-gray color. I reproduce the words that appear in the video: "Let's see, microscopicie, your father wants to see you. Look how small and clever that little thing is". At that moment, the cat meows and the dialogue returns: "What you want is to be caught, huh? I'm not afraid of dogs or anything". The video ends with the cat turning towards two rather large dogs that she pounces on and pushes back. I instantly empathized with those poor dogs and waited to see if time would relocate the cat, who turned out to be a cat, to some other house. It happened the next day. It's enough to take away something you didn't want to make you want it. And so it happened. Even though I didn't want that cat, I suddenly felt the need to have a cat. A cat, in particular. And I called my friend Paloma, another of my cat references, and she immediately sent me pictures of a litter of newborn cats in Galicia. They were white, with several black spots scattered over their bodies. Paloma informed me that she was planning to travel to Galicia in two weeks and that she could bring me one. I said yes. Hala, I already had a cat. Cover of my book. But it wasn't that one. The weekend before the arrival of the Galician cat, a series of events ended with Mía at home. Mía had been born a couple of months before a few kilometers away from Madrid. Barbara had offered her to her friend Maria, who already had another cat, and she (Maria) had accepted. When Barbara sent me a picture of Mía in her purse, walking along Gran Vía, I was touched to see those little eyes, and as I didn't really see the danger of her ending up in my house, I verbalized it in front of my friends: "I wouldn't mind keeping her", I said. In the evening, while we were having dinner, Maria informed Barbara that her pet could not stand the presence of another cat and to please come and pick her up as soon as possible. There was no turning back now. It was time. Someone inside me took the wheel and said, "Hey, I'm going to get her right now". I had empathized with that cat and I didn't want to imagine her spending the night in a house where she was not welcome with a congener ready to climb her. Someone with some sense replied: "But where are you going, Pedrín? If you don't have food or a sandbox or anything... You'd better wait until tomorrow and take her calmly". And so, on June 19, 2016, Mía arrived at my house. We were both starting a new life. HERE: https://elpais.com/elpais/2018/04/30/animalesycia/1525086090_154792.html

A man and his two cats Before she died, my mother explained to me that a cat gave "better results than a couple. All advantages." - by PEDRO ZUAZUA When, in June 2016, I took out the phone to call my mother and tell her that I had decided to adopt a cat, I received as an answer a peculiar question: "So, you're never going to get married?". That association of ideas caught my attention because of how quickly it came to her mind, but it didn't surprise me too much either. After all, single people with (at least) one cat and little (or no) desire to get married is a common cliché. In my gang we had a recurring joke about dying alone, surrounded by cats and with milk cartons littering the floor. I say it was a joke we had because, as we have moved on in life and adopted felines, the chances of it actually happening increase markedly and the joke seems to get less funny. It so happened that, shortly after Mía -that's the cat's name- arrived home, I published in EL PAÍS a chronicle about the experience of incorporating an animal into your life. The text was a moderate success - in no case by merit of the author; any digital content that includes cats will capture the attention of the audience - and led, over the years, to two books and an Instagram account with several thousand followers. That first text about living with a feline left several comments from readers. Almost all of them kind. Some of them were a little bit angry - "the cat would have written it better"-. But there was one, in particular, that caught my attention. A reader shared an article by Tim Kreider titled A Man and His Cat, published in The New York Times in 2014. Kreider had lived with one for 19 years and was dedicating a loving tribute to her. The article intrigued me so much that I didn't read it calmly until six years later. Let me explain: it was a farewell text and I, at that time, was more in the mood for reading things that celebrated life than for regrets. But, for some reason, I kept it in my retina. When I went back to it, I understood what my mother meant that day. In her article, Kreider maintained that people have a certain amount of affection that we need to express and that, in the absence of "a more appropriate object (a child or a lover, a parent or a friend)," that affection can be redirected toward a cockatoo or an aloe plant. He supported his theory with a conclusion written by zoologist Konrad Lorenz in his book On Aggression, according to which, "in the absence of the appropriate triggering stimulus for an instinct, the stimulus threshold for that instinct is gradually reduced; for example, a male pigeon deprived of female pigeons will attempt to initiate mating with a stuffed pigeon." My mother passed away in March 2021. She did so after more than ten years of illness. In the last few days, we had several conversations in which, besides confessing to me that when she grew up she wanted to be a cat - "they sleep 16 hours a day, they don't have to make the bed, or cook, or go to school, or be accountable to anyone" - she explained to me that, deep down, for her a cat gave "much better results than a couple. It's all advantages. She never physically met Tuna, my second cat, but she asked about them every day. "When you are in Madrid and you are alone, I am calmer because I know that you are with the cats and I know that they keep you company and that you are happy". Understanding that phrase of my mother's took me six years and a few sessions with a (good) psychiatrist. Understanding the evolution of her feline thinking can only be framed within the framework of a mother's love. Of course, both she and Kreider were right: a man who is in his room with his cats can be many things, but he will never be alone... HERE: Un hombre y sus dos gatos: https://elpais.com/icon/2022-05-13/un-hombre-y-sus-dos-gatos.html

Hi @Hunterw, Today, I've (on Chrome builds) with https://ww1.streamm4u.com/ - Just a moment... "Performance & security by Cloudflare" "Checking if the site connection is secure" only... Basilisk Moebius 55 works (but doesn't play videos), pass checking and then I've this home page. To toggle easily JavaScript, I use (in my all browsers) Script Blocker Ultimate: https://chrome.google.com/webstore/detail/script-blocker-ultimate-n/onedokhafbakmhkblnokgjcliehfognj?hl=en - then on your websites click (if you wish): "Ad/Remove domain whitelisting" green button ...

Woot. Give Mina a manly handshake.

The Thylacine Tasmanian Tiger in Colour Did This Man Find The Extinct Tasmanian Tiger? Researchers Say They Can 'De-Extinct' The Tasmanian Tiger

A quick prayer and time for bed... https://twitter.com/Laughs_4_All/status/1563382574139207682/video/1

When you get mad but you're one of the nicest people ever... https://twitter.com/TansuYegen/status/1564738073396756481

SOME twitter accounts: Morissa Schwartz (Dr. Rissy) @MorissaSchwartz: https://twitter.com/MorissaSchwartz guldurbakalim @guldurbakalim1: https://twitter.com/guldurbakalim1 Tansu YEĞEN @TansuYegen: https://twitter.com/TansuYegen ...

Boy, that escalated quickly: https://twitter.com/i/status/1565174847264550913

CAT's 9 lives! https://twitter.com/guldurbakalim1/status/1564375323613036546 my summer vacation https://twitter.com/guldurbakalim1/status/1565040691016769540

Not easy to handle kids these days.. https://twitter.com/HemantLasaria/status/1564983418764480517 "Parenting is patience love and care."

A bird telling a hedgehog to hurry across because it's dangerous https://twitter.com/TansuYegen/status/1564980521263833091 ...Not ME, but like...: https://twitter.com/i/status/1564981310250172416

GREENLAND "Welcome to the arctic monitoring web-site The Danish Arctic research institutions present updated knowledge on the condition of two major components of the Arctic: The Greenland Ice Sheet and the sea ice" Surface Conditions map: The map illustrates how the surface of the Greenland Ice Sheet gains and loses mass on a daily basis. This is known as the surface mass balance. It does not include the mass that is lost when glaciers calve off icebergs and melt as they come into contact with warm seawater: http://polarportal.dk/en/greenland/surface-conditions/ Disclose.tv @disclosetv NEW - Greenland ice sheet gained 7 Gigatons of mass in just one day yesterday — the largest daily gain ever recorded during the summer. https://twitter.com/disclosetv/status/1564576027350913024 12:29 PM · Aug 30, 2022

"Be kind"... And why nobody talks about the Poles, who have welcomed more than 3.5 million Ukrainians ( especially women and children) on its soil? Poland, the first country to receive refugees from Ukraine. "more than 3.5 million people having fled to Poland..." - news from 27 May 2022... “Poland remains the main country of arrival for refugees from Ukraine,” “Newly arrived refugees" ...“They often arrive in a state of distress and anxiety, having left family members behind"... "Along with queries on transportation, financial support, accommodation and access to social services, the refugees’ main concerns revolve around health services and medical needs." “Poland has put in place systems to ensure legal stay, access to employment, education, health care and other social welfare schemes for Ukrainian refugees,” said the UNHCR spokesperson". These quotes are in the paper of 27 May 2022: Ukrainian refugees arrive in Poland ‘in a state of distress and anxiety’: https://news.un.org/en/story/2022/05/1119172 -so the very kind treatment of the Poles towards the Ukrainian refugees.

- so that we understand each other better: of course I am against the wild behavior of these Asians...but another thing the man, and another thing the behavior. And I absolutely condemn their behavior!

Pyramids of Giza built thanks to a disappeared branch of the Nile !.. https://newsrnd.com/tech/2022-08-30-pyramids-of-giza-built-thanks-to-a-disappeared-branch-of-the-nile.BJGQOioiJj.html The three majestic pyramids of the necropolis of Giza, Cheops, Chefren and Menkaure, located on the western outskirts of Cairo, in Egypt, were built thanks to a now disappeared branch of the Nile river, which allowed the transport of the necessary materials: thanks to granules of ancient pollen, it was in fact possible to trace the variations in the water levels of this stretch for over 8,000 years of Egyptian dynastic history, discovering that at the time of the construction of the pyramids, between 2686 and 2160 BC, the watercourse was still navigable. The discovery, published in the journal of the US National Academy of Sciences (PNAS), is the result of the work of a group of researchers led by the European Center for Research and Teaching of Environmental Geosciences (Cerege), in France. The researchers, led by Hader Sheisha, examined the pollen grains present in soil cores extracted from the current alluvial plain that once housed the branch of the Nile: in this way they reconstructed the type of vegetation present at the time, which reveals the raising and lowering of the waters that occurred over time. The data obtained reveal that the water level increased a lot during the so-called African Wet Period (Ahp), between about 14,800 and 5,500 years ago, which saw the replacement of much of the Sahara desert territory with grasses, trees and lakes and it was caused by changes in the Earth's orbit around the sun. Subsequently, the disappeared arm of the Nile reduced again, but remained navigable for some time, thus allowing the transport of goods and making it possible to build the pyramids of Giza. According to the authors of the study, the discovery opens an important window on the environmental conditions that favored the construction of the pharaonic monuments considered one of the wonders of the ancient world.

Look to https://gardarolafs.is/ - many videos never seen! Splendid beauty of OUR EARTH!

"I try to keep it off as some people living in this complex keep it on all day long and get worked up." - Yeah, I see, sorry for you...ask absolutely to the competent person, that you can't stand this kind of behavior anymore, it's invasion in your private life with all this brouhaha all day long! Ask to use the headphones for those people who spray you with TV-propaganda! "I hope to build natural immunity to this disease causing media." - good luck with that!

It seems to me that you are exaggerating a bit... I see them as poorly trained in their youth, probably they didn't have parents at the right level. AS THE TWIG IS BENT, THE TREE IS INCLINED. If you teach a dog to be only mean, he would be mean all his life. I had read a book about a mean dog... he was mean until his last moment of life, being killed by a mean guy...