Rhinoceros - Word of the Day

Today is World Rhino Day. Which has been observed annually on September 22nd since 2010.  
  

The word Rhinoceros comes from Greek, Rhino meaning nose and Keros meaning horn.

We all know what a rhino looks like.  This is an Eastern Black Rhino, living in safety at Port Lympne where they have a breeding program which is contributing to the survival of this endangered species. But all 5 existing species of rhino are endangered, most of them critically. 


All the Rhinoceros on earth are the survivors of populations of many millions, in dozens of species, which once lived all over Europe, Asia, Africa and Northern America. Now there are less than 30,000 rhinos on earth. 
figures from-
www.savetherhino.org/rhino-info/population-figures/

The rhino's problem lies in that nose horn, and the madness of the situation lies in the word Keros - from which we get Keratin. This is the root of the rhino's problem. Keratin from their horns is believed by many people to have almost magical curative properties, particularly for high fever.  

Keratin has no scientifically proven curative properties of any sort, whether from rhino horn, cows' hoof or human fingernails. So once all the Rhinoceros have been exterminated people who hold this belief will at least be able to chew their own fingernails. It will cost them a lot less than rhino horn and will have exactly the same effect.

Female Artists in History

Female Artists in History FB group has a wonderful database of artists including many who have been ignored and forgotten as well as the great and the good. Link below

FAH is now posting links to this blog where I have articles about some of the 31 women artists I’ve researched. Many thanks Christa for all the great work.

"For centuries, the Art Canon was dominated by art made by men, preferably white and dead for at least 50 years. That was the paradigm about art. No matter how talented and skilled a woman was...  What you see is that many women (even in the more free thinking societies) stopped or diminished their artistic activities after their marriage, or they continued in a different form – on a smaller scale, with subject closer to home, in a more perishable form – for the sake of the house and family. Sometimes they continued working, but under the name of their husband, brother, or father. Only some managed to continue their work professionally. Many never married." Christa Zaat. Links - @female-artists-in-history
female artists in history        

Last Supper - Just a Bowl of Cherries

I read an interesting and evocative column by food critic Jay Rayner, about Last Suppers. Not only his idea of what he would really want for his own last supper, but the concept of last suppers. He was most concerned to be in good company, during his final meal. 

And he's right, it should be about who you are with as much as the food. 

I'd be with the family, all of them, from parents and husbands to adopted sisters and step-second-cousins-once-removed, all gathered together at the same time, in the same place, for once. Adults nattering and drinking and catching up because some of them haven't seen each other for years. Teenagers sharing selfies and apps, children racing around the tables with cousins they hardly ever see, babe's being nursed, or bottle fed or whatever comes naturally. 

Everyone could have whatever they wanted to eat and drink, from a gigantic buffet satisfying everyone from carnivores, vegetarians, pescetarians, fruitarians and vegans to insectivores, if there are any! There can be wine, beer, spirits, juices, tea, coffee and even those vile branded colas whose name I refuse to mention, for the kids.

I'd eat a perfectly cooked baked potato, made with a large desiree spud, with crispy, very slightly charred skin and soft but not mushy interior, split open and filled with a mound of butter, a large wedge of ripe brie and sprinkled with salt, black pepper and fresh grated nutmeg. There'd be a side salad of fresh watercress.  I'd follow it with the world's best, most chocolatey chocolate mouse and a huge bowl of ripe, dark cherries. Everything washed down with a bottle or two of Farnese Montipulciano D'Abruzzo.

Hmm. Think I'll start now, by sending the invitations. If I don't die, we can all do it again next year!

https://www.theguardian.com/food/2019/aug/25/one-foot-in-the-gravy-jay-rayners-last-supper

No! I Don't Want to Join a Bookclub by Virginia Ironside - Book review

 

Sue Gilbert's review on Goodreads 

Sep 03, 2019 

liked it

I picked this up because I've always quite admired Virginia Ironside as a right-on journalist and agony aunt. The story is okay for what it is, but I was hoping for something a bit stronger or at least a little funnier, from this writer.

Plenty of it is good. Marie Sharp is defiant of the stereotypes and expectations of a woman of a certain age, i.e. sixty. She lists them with contempt and vows to definitely grow old disgracefully. She will remain single but will not become a little old lady. She will wear purple, demand attention and express her opinion at every juncture.

She will also dote on her grandson and give up sex.

Her description of the illness and death of a close friend is unflinching and moving, I felt for all of them. This was for me the most powerful part of the story, her friendship slowly bleeding away.

Where the story fell down was the always implied idea that she will not actually remain single and she will not give up sex. So at the end we come back to the ordinary story of a woman who can't be complete without a man, yet again. I was so hoping for a more interesting ending, but it became just another romance. I was afraid it would.