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Tuesday, April 11, 2017

Climate Change II On Flagler Street

Just got off a Florida page and found many people attempting to correct the Miami image and save both Miami proper , as far north as possible, and Miami Beach from the increasingly frequent flooding.

The complaint is that it is only Climate Change that is doing the damage. That would be nice. It is a much slower process. However, what is happening in Miami and in Miami Beach and other Floridian, soon to be inundated, areas is that the builders who are Northeran Snowbirds are positively sure that bigger and better building in the more popular areas are the things to create.

Make the areas look like New York City; or Austin, Texas; or cities in Los Angeles/Hollywood areas of mansions and pools. [H.m.m.m California seems to be sliding into the Pacific, just about the same way that Florida is sliding into the Atlantic.]

The difference between the two coast lines is that California has mountains and cliffs that are eroding due to massive, expensive showcase homes built on eroding cliff sides.  On the other coast, Florida has become the New York City of the south.

What architect in his right mind would build tall very expensive hotels and condominiums in a swamp? If even one of them, would go back and read about the Barefoot Mailman, who made the trek along the coast of  Florida in the early years of Mr. Flagler and his railroad; he, or even a she, would find that the poor main carrier was constantly facing swamps and gators;  lots of slimy soil. and difficult to walk on sand.

In the beginning, the houses on the coast were small homes, one story with pro per hurricane shutters.
Now, the builders for the small homes are touting sealed windows, electricity and air conditioning so that owners could weather out a hurricane while watching their television with chips and dips; at least until the roofs would be whipped away by the hurricane winds.

Architects of the area schools dreamed of patios made with lots of screens against mosquitoes and hurricane shutters that let in the air without letting in the rains and the wind.  and only small indoor spaces, for privacy with lots more open areas for the cool semi-tropical breezes.

Now, the shutters are gone, the screens get ripped away, and plywood is used to cover all windows: Tightly against the storms. Once an elderly person called the Hurricane Center in Coral Gables and asked why they did not tell homeowners to open a window or a door on the calm side of the house and shut the door on the wind side of the house.  

They also had to remember to tell the home owners to reverse the procedure when the hurricane turned the winds and calm around in opposite directions. That person was told that it was only an Old Wive's tale and useless in the hurricane areas of Miami. The buildings got to be tall apartment buildings, and finally taller condos. The soil could be corrected it was believed.

 And now, both Flager Street in Miami and the Fountainbleu Hotel and others in Miami Beach are flooded during such  hurricanes. But no one knows why.  Think!  The answers are there in Florida just as they are on the Pacific coast.

Thursday, November 17, 2016

Climate Changes

Wanna Know About Climate Change?
by D. M. Urquidi           
A reporter, bored with regular slow news gathering of incoming and outgoing celebrities at the airport, began to poke around, more or less, left to his own devices: like being inquisitive, curious and just plain bored.
With boredom, anything new or different becomes a dull day that can rapidly change into one much more interesting. It all happened long ago but still within the present 21st century.
But what was he seeing? Or hearing about? What made his dull life more interesting?  Well, let us begin with some pretty dull stuff here.
Astronomy students in mamy university laboratoties, are using globes illustratng the rotation of the earth (as a tiny ball on a wire orbit, inside of a larger clear plastic sky. Constellations are printed on the outside of that firnament.
Before one can understand Climate Change, One must understand how the world works within its orbit. Now, if you think you cannot possibly understand such complicated stuff, please be assured, neither do I.
However, I do understand how a baseball thrown with a spin by an expert pitcher, will travel faster and farther than one just thrown with a normal pitch. Our Earth is just another ball with a faster spin. When could that have happened? Hasn’t the world always had a 365.25-day year? Really?
Meteorites are like grains of sand being blasted against a ping-pong ball. It has no affect on the ball. Because of its size, it could never change  its original orbit nor can such orbit  be changed.

So why is there a left
and a right view of Earth in this picture?

When and if, the Magnetic North is twisted to the left by 23.5 degrees, the north/south axis remains in the same position, even when it leans at an angle. The answer to the above problem is not mega-science!

It has been proven, the Sun can not move around our world,  like the moon, it can only stay in one place. The Earth is located at a specific distance [circular orbit]. it can not be changed. It cannot create a different orbit, neither further away nor any closer to the sun.

Yet, the Earth as we know it, has a strange band around its Equator. The band extends from the Tropic of Cancer in the USA, all around the world and it ends in the Tropic of Capricorn in the southern area near Peru. follows araound the world, as Cancer did until both sides create a band which measures 47 degrees wide.

That means there are 23.5 degrees on both sides of the Equator, from Cancer in the North to Capsricorn in the South. Hence, it is really a path that follows the sun for 47 degrees each half a year.

North of the Equator, at the Tropic of Cabcder our Earth allows the sun seemingly to trundle along at 23.5 degrees to the Tropic of Capricorn before ouur earth allows the Sun to turn back towards the Tropic of Cancer. The way down consists of one half of a year and the way up takes just as much time, 26 weeks.

But did I not say that our Sun does not move? Why now say that it is moving from one side of the Equator to the other.?

You, the readers are right. Our Earth is not pierced by a wire as an demonstration globe in an astronomy laboratory. It is our Earth, spinning in one complete rotation-----every 24 hours-----upon each one of the 360 degrees of the orbit which our Earth follows as if it is a train wheel upon a circular railroad track.

So it is a very simple thing that happeeds to our Earth ages ago, and it is happening again----much more slowly----today.
It is well-known such a spin affects our climate so that winter in the North becomes Summer in the south.
Then six months later, when the sun seems to be marching back across those two barriers of Cancer and Capricorn, it gets hot and muggy in the [north of the Equator but cold and uncomfortable in the south.
Water drains-----no matter how narrow a hole in the south-----spins to the left, while in the northern lands, such water drainage spins to the right. In short, even our water has-----as whirlpools large and small-----made the weirdest flip-flop artistry in the world.
So why are we having a new flip-flop of weather changes? Tthis time it can be blamed upon those huge sledge hammers that can tolerate 2.8 million pounds of force per foot.  [Please note that I have not said “per square foot.”]
Each time the mega-force is applied, it drives the sledge hammers deep into the ground, reverberating through the earth until is moves the edges of our tectonic plates.
Ice at the north and south poles begin to melt. Russa haad found frozen mammoths with fresh greens in their stomach a few dozen years ago but at that time, no one seemed to notice the changes in the weather was the reason the water of the river got warm enough to open the mud along the riber bank where they found the monster animals.
It was not until 2007 that there was any mention made of our current slide into another change in our 23.5 degree shift.
What is missing is the north south axis of the Earth as it spins in its constant and complete 24 hour turn-about. During the spin of the 24-ohour Earth, the moon shows only one face during every hour of the night during each year. In other words, the Moon itself, does not spin on its axis.

It seems to me that as the earth spins, it is facing the single face of the moon, with its normal night-time hours. However, we have Spring, Summer, Autumn and Winter. Season has a different number of hours for each night of any season..

The Spring Equinox and the Autumn Solstice on October 31st  were the dates allotted for each Spring and Autumn change of daylight hours.

The Longest day was June 21st and the longest night was December 21st once upon a time. Since then, We have changed Daylight Savings time by one week. Instead of October 31st, it is now November 6th.
That curious reporter mentioned at the beginning of this article, bored with regulat news of reporting snowbird” celebrities”----incoming and outgoing,-----began to poke aroud the airport where he was, more or less, left to his own devices: like being inquisitive, curious and just plain bored.
With boredom, anything a little different changes a dull day into one much more exciting. He  had found some maintenance men at the airport carrying buckets of paint out to the runways. He asked the purpose of carrying paint to the end of the runways were no buildings existed.
Their answer was “It was necessary to change  the azimuth coordinates at the incoming runways by 10 degrees.” His article got published the next day as the web version. Later in the day, a comment was made by a reader:
[That is nothing new] “We have been doing the same thing in the USAF since 1982.”    
The cause may be the 2.8 million pounds of pressure on those huge sledgehammers not damaged by the fires of the fuel discharge of space shuttles, which were new in 1963.

But what about the rising seas?

The cause can’t be because of the Tectonic Plate movements, or can it? It is doubtful is the Plate movements would interfere with the amount of water rising, even when the glaciers are calving. They are melting more quickly. Yes, a large resounding YES.

But if the world had shifted to the east more than 10 degrees up to 2016 [today’s approximation] then the Arctic and the Antarctica would be in a position to be abnormally warm, even in their frozen states.
Not so long ago it has been reported that the tundra in Alaska was getting less frozen and the trees were starrting to lean in all directions. The frozen qualities of the tundra were not lost. Even the oldest trees that had deeper roots could not stand up straight any more.

Does that mean that water from the tundras are filling up the oceans and helping to push the glaciers out into the seas. No. There is another reason.  Fotr that we can go to a small propsed tourist spot in Mexico near Tapachula, in the state of Chiapas near the Guatemala border.

It was in 24 years ago, when I was teaching English in Tapachula. An older student who had graduated took the 1982 teachers to the beach where she used to live.

The area, according the the graduate, once had a marvelously wide beach, so some entrepenuers decided that a small inland cove could be doug out and a pair of jettiess put out to sea so give small launches from large cruise ships could bring much needed money to the natives who lived along the estuaries.
A wide road with modern street lights had been built to the cove for extra supplies to be delivered when needed. And  a busload of passengers would pay for a trip to a lecture about             the Izapa mouments nearby.
The woman, our guide to the cove, stopped at a small broken brick corner of a house that had been destroyed by the sea. She explained that when she was a small child, that corner piece had once been her parents house near the newly built road.
They had once lived far beck from the shore of the Pacific Ocean and believed that there would not be any problem living that far back. Many native reed homes had been there for many years Everything was peacful and idyllic during those early years of her life playing in the Pacific Ocean.
As we walked along the road, the rusted modern lamp lights were seen to be in very bad condition. A bit further along, we saw a small row of boulders in the water in front of a destroyed section of the road we were walking upon.
Not too far ahead was the dug out cove with the didreging boat moored on the opposite side of the cove. Since if was still only a short few weeks after a major hurricane the small reed restaurants were still filled with sand up to and over the tables put out for clients.
A clean white toilet bowl and tank was laying on our side of the cove next to parts of the brick walled rest area, now in many pieces, half buried in the sand.
We could see two jetties as the entrance to the cove, which reached out to sea. The explanation given was that the jetties caused the beach to erode all the way across that glorious beach, It not only swept into the cove covering the reed restaurants, but it also destroyed the road we had just past over AND the house our guide used to live in.
The water of the ocean hit the jetties until it turned inself against the beaches and literally ate away the sand where people enjoyed a picnic during the hot summer and winter nights.
Later a hurricane hit Miami Beach in Florida. I was living in Austin Texas by that time, and I was shocked to hear that the Eden Rock and its companion hotel, next door: the Flountainbeau had to evacuate its clientel because the water of the Atlantic Ocean came through the lobbies of both posh hotels.
In Miami proper, Flagler Street was also flooded to knee depths forcing shopkeepers to close their store fronts. What was happening was that on the Beach front, each hotel along the strip decided to privatize their beah fronts by putting fended jetties that not only closed off the beach from stray swimmers.
The fencing also jutted out into the water to ensure that the beach and cabana areas, would not interfere with its neighboring hotel services.
The jetties that reached into the sea, instead of protecting those private beaches, cleaned out the samd as the seawater crept up to the hotel doors. I never heard if the seawater entered those private pools near the beach entrances from the hotels.
But I did find out that many more jetties were built for such hotels which had been built close enough to each other near prime beach fronts, like in Atlantic City and other areas along the Atlantic Ocean with effects similar to that which I saw at the Mexican proposed tourist area near Tapachula.
It was not the ocean water rising at that time, nor is it now. It is the misappropriate of levees and ocean jetties that are upsetting the balance of river and sea waters self-adjusting capabilieis.
What was once prime tourist beaches were literally wiped out by the corialis effect of the sea that entered constricted area between privacy jetties between hotels and other private properties.










Sunday, November 2, 2014

an Art Gallery with comments

Going Home
No telling what I will end up with
when I start a paint.






Oops, I printed it upside down! My son's girl friend spotted it at the top of the picture and



informed him that I had bought it ready-made and faked it by putting my old signature seal on it.

But that was a long time ago. Last year when I turned 82, a neighbor gave me two blank (new) canvases, and somewhere, I had also acquired a third. I do not like unpainted canvases, so I decided I wanted to do another horse. A year or so earlier, I had painted a picture of two clay bowls, and I felt I might just succeed with a horse. I almost did it right but destroyed it by over-painting. Disgusted I let it sit for a few months. I tried again with the same canvas.  No use wasting a decent sunset; but this time it turned out to be a hobby horse, straight off a carnival carousel.

Since the hobby horse was painted over again, I do not consider it more than a practice effort, so my third success is the one below.  A bit different, but a horse.
My Favorte 1961 Watercolor

Ramtod-tailed Hors
In a Bamboo Grove
Portrait attempt.  Not good enough yet.
Rose's without rain drops
A Seascape on Cardboard
A pleasant  Accident

Chinese Brush. Not free enou
More Flowers

Friday, August 22, 2014

Who Am I Kidding?

Who am I kidding? No one but myself!

I can no more grow old gracefully than a palm tree can become an oak tree.
I have tried to do here a bio but I was having a problem with self.

I am no more a youngster, nor am I very old. I cannot even think I am going to be old, even when my neck looks like a Thanksgiving turkey.  and my hair is a beautiful shade of white, the color of snow on a cold clear day in winter,
Bah! Whoever invented old age, should be put in a the stocks at the center of town.

Sunday, June 29, 2014

Second and Third Grade

Second Grade was not very interesting. The teacher found that I was scratching my head too often and discovered that I had head lice. I thought it was from our laundry tub where we got a bath every Saturday. My mother got coal oil, whatever that was, and my head got soaked every night and washed every morning, and finally they disappeared. I had my hair combed with a fine tooth comb every day just to make sure.

The rest of the year was not that interesting. We walked through a long double meadow, split in the middle by a copse of tall trees. Once I got threatened by a heavy set boy, but I ran and he did not follow me.

Snow om the winter was no fun. It was knee deep in the meadow which made walking to school difficult, but not impossible. Summer made up for it all. The buttercups and for-get me-nots would bloom one after the other. I would pick some for my mother. One day I did find a dime, so when I got home I went next door to the country store, owned by Mr. Disascio (never knew how to spell his name) and his wife and son, Tony.
[Mrs. Disascio made the most delicious spaghetti, and waffle cookies filled with some sort of cream. His father ran the store and used produce from his own garden to sell during the fall. Those days were idylic.]

At the store, I bought some candy and a cone of ice cream and took the candy to my mother. She was pleased with the 'gift.'

Third Grade was not what I liked, but only after my teacher punished me by sending me to my twin brothers's first grade class.  I had found a small sparkly disk on a chain and had given it to the classmate who did wonderful elocution poems for us in class. Dorothy was her name. She knew Hiawatha and The Face on the Barroom Floor; all of both long poems.  Well, I told my mother about it, but she misconstrued what I told her and insisted that I get the bauble back. I did try . . . even visiting the girl at her house. But she refused to return it to me. My mother asked about it often, but I could not say I had gotten it back so she was unhappy about it.  I made one last effort. Dorothy was sitting behind me in class and I turned around and asked her one more time. When she again refused, I got out of my seat and fought with her.

The natural result was I had to be punished and the teacher knew exactly what would hurt the most. My mother found out about my visit to First Grade at lunch time, and later when Dad came home from work, I received a spanking for fighting in the school room.

From that time on, I never made another 100 in spelling and never got another 100 in any class I attended.
No one had asked me why I did it, but I never forgot. I guess even my penmanship went downhill a bit, even though I like to draw the slanted up and down bars and the round over and around tubes of lines meant to teach us the correct method for writing legibly.

I almost forgot . . . my twin brothers, being in first grade . . . got to have their First Communion that year and I happened to be a pink Angel to guide them on their way down to the altar.  The picture that was taken for that even portrayed me as a very grouchy angel. The ceremony must have occurred after my spanking, because I was not a very happy angel.

One thing about the school I was in that year (3rd grade): I learned in religion class that the church made a big effort to convert a lot of people during the Middle Ages. I don''t know why the subject came up but I do remember that it seemed to be a bad time for the church. [Later in college when I found out how they had done the conversions, I was so shocked that I could not talk about it for over two years.]

That summer, I was playing in the peach tree in our yard with the angel robe on and the robe caught on a branch. I fell out of the tree [not very far down thank heavens, so I broke no bones] but it did take my breath away for a moment.  It was also the last time I ever went into the tub outside with only panties on. I figured that I was too grown up to be bare chested any more, so wore T-shirts from that time on, when my bothers and I went for a summer dip into the old tub. I did not learn to swim until years later.

It was also around this time that I went to Chester Creek with my cousins and my aunt. We were having a lot of fun, but one of the more cheerful ones, turned over the inner tube float that I was using. I thought I was going to drown, but my other cousin pulled me up out of the water right away. It was not as frightening since my cousin was so quick to get me out of the deeper water. She turned to be my favorite cousin, Sophie.


A short note about my penmanship. When I grew up and someone invited me to a Calligraphy class, I cheated by printing a calligraphic script phrase on thin paper. So that I could just write over what I could see under my good page.  It always made a good impression then with the teacher. But that was after seven children and a lot of grief from the marriage I thought was a good one.  Oh well.

Monday, June 16, 2014

Skipping to First Grade

First grade was something that was a bit of a memory lost for me. Previous to going to school, I was put into a dance class (to make sure I could perform like Shirley Temple, I surmise) and at  home, my father read me the comics every night, thank heavens.

I say, thank heavens, because by October, I got sick. I had measles, mumps and whooping cough, one right after the other.  During that time, I was able to read a lot of my children's books, including the Night Before Christmas, my favorite.

My first day out of bed was Christmas morning. I got up and got dressed in a neat dark blue sailor dress with a red bow tie in front.  I had asked for a bicycle for Christmas and I got one. OMG.  It was there leaving against the banister of the newest apartment we had, that over a shoemaker shop. My heart dropped. It was the wrong bicycle.  Was Santa a fault or . . . ?

The bicycle was a light green boy's bicycle with fat balloon tires. I had wanted a bicycle, but, . . . I was a girl, not a boy. The poor bicycle never got ridden the whole time I had it and even after we moved across from my father's work, I never even considered it mine

First grade after I returned to school, I remember being on stage at school in a cute red satin Russian outfit. It had short skirt with a white feather hemline trim, and red vest with a white blouse, and a tiara of red satin like the skirt, trimmed in silvery ribbons and a lot of long colored ribbons hanging down from each side.

A doll visited our first grade. She had all sorts of clothes to wear, even pajamas. She had a toothbrush and a hair brush and her own soap and washcloth. She was beautiful. Her owner said that she herself, never used soap on her face, but she neglected to tell us that she used creams and ointments. It took me a long time before I figured out that the creams and ointments had more to to with the face of the doll's owner than the doll that used soap and water.

Regardless when spring time rolled around, and the whole school was having a morning recess in the school yard, there were several wagons outside the school yard.  One in particular was a Bread wagon, all green and gold with big wheels with yellow spokes and a red or brown rim.

For some reason, the horse pulling the wagon spooked from something on the road, and it frightened him so that he ran right over the curb, breaking one wheel on the wagon, and headed straight into the school yard.  I was way in the back leaning on the small metal bannister because I had just recently returned to school and was still not able to play with the children. I was taking it "easy."

All the children started screaming at once, and running to get away from the horse and wagon.  A man, from a different wagon ran into the yard from the street, grabbed the horse's harness and stopped him in his run towards the children. I could not understand why everyone was screaming and crying. I saw who the man was and he was perfectly capable of stopping the horse. It was my father in his milk  run, or he was checking up on whether I was doing well in school.

I never told anyone who the man was, nor did anyone ever ask me about him. I did think it was neat, but no one, not even my father at home, said a word about catching the horse.

Back in the school room, probably one another day, I was reading my reader.  I said, "Oh, Nuts!" A common cuss word for children. My seat mate was aghast. "You said a bad word."  My response was, "No, I did not. It is here in our book."  And I showed her the page next to the picture of a nut tree right next to the text. That was that. She never said another word.

In the class, we had only one black boy learning his ABC's. but most of the time he fell asleep. When my sister went to that school 16 years later, she was the only white girl in the class. The neighborhood had changed that drastically.  In the early years, though I had to walk home and the shortest route was through the black neighborhood. I only could do that one time, because the children there ganged up on me and I guess they threatened me, so I never went through the area again.

By summer time, we had moved across the street from Miller and Flounder's Dairy, where my father worked. It was a white house with two floors. My father put in an oil heater in the fireplace and a plywood, high step-over door in the archway to the porch.  He then rented the upstairs to an older couple who, although I would go upstairs and read the Sunday comics where my father stored them in an extra room on the second floor, I never met them.

Not even when we got the chicken coup from the neighbor behind us who was moving to the city. Mom would make the attic into a nursery for the new chicks and I would visit them all the time.
We would have Sunday dinner, a chicken that she would prepare in the morning, starting with cutting off its head, and we would eat him in the afternoon. We also had eggs every morning for breakfast.

Friday, May 23, 2014

First View of the World

           Many years later, I came about a dream sequence that happened regularly. However, it belongs here in this part since it seemed to have occurred the day I was born, a bit earlier than my first post.

          I would dreams of a person whose finger I was holding. It seemed to me that the whole body of that person had the same thickness as that single finger i held. I dreamt this particular dream for several years, during hte time I was married and living in Miami, Florida. It was comforting dream, and I never knew why it occurred so regularly.

          After a particularly difficult day, sometime during the seventh year of my marriage, I stopped to think more deeply about it.  I reasoned, that if I was holding only a finger of my comforter, it had to be just after the moment of my birth. I  was wrapped in a warm blanket and I was being cuddled, as all babies are when they are first born.  But it did not appear to be by my mother. It was someone else.  Who, i do not know. I never heard any details of my birth, only afterward, when one of my aunts, who my mother did not like very much, was helping her out during the time of her recovery.

           Neverthelsss, once I decided that it had been that very day and hour that i was born, I NEVER dreamt that drream again.  Apparently, I was having a particularly rough time during my marriage, but did not understand why it was so difficult.  My husband was never rude or contrary to me and it actually seemed that it was a strong marriage. Seven children were loved and appreciated. So, at that time I had no inkling of any difficulty.  Or maybe I did and refused to admit it to myself.

          As it was I later found out that a divorce would be better than staying in the marriage and with a little bit of help from a friend. i was able to do that.  Things actually got a bit worse, but with my dream in my corner (how if dream can affect one's feelings, i don't know, but it did seems to happan that way to me.) I actually survived and all the children are here near where I live and they are very content with their lives.  A good feeling that I got them all grown and happy in what they do finally. Hurray!