Isabella and Signs

Just learned this morning that the top name for baby girls this year is Isabella.  Boys’ names…who cares!  “Homer” wouldn’t surprise me—I really have no idea how such trends happen or what goes into influencing young parents to consider a name popular in the 1500’s, in Spain. Isabella?

I’d still like to think that I was named after my grandfather, that it was a tribute to my Mom’s dad.  BUT, I have the sneaky suspicion to this day that my name was popular because no child so named could fail to hear his mother screaming it at the top of her lungs at dinnertime!  It’s in the same league as yelling “FIRE” instead of “Hot, burning element!”  Weird, but practical.

Non sequitir:  I guess we’ve all heard that BP’s stopgap measure has failed on its first foray into the depths.  The “dome” as they call it, was immediately clogged by “What’s that??  Methyl hydrates, you say?  REALLY?”   What’re they doing down there?  I guess oil magnates and engineers haven’t had time to read like The Swarm like the rest of the us.  Hydrates…..hmm.

Three weeks ago all the media coverage was on the Iceland eruption.  Two weeks ago we were focused on tornado outbreaks in the Plains states.  Last week, it was record flooding across the board.  If I were deeply and religiously fanatical, I could see indicators of the alleged and much prophesied End of the World in 2012.  As it is, I’m not a zealot, so all I hear is a worldwide outcry for alpaca wool to soak up all that oil in the Gulf of Mexico!  Oil spill = wool donation?  I’m no financial guru, but I’d recommend investing in textiles.  Alpaca wool.  Weird.

It’s almost as if our great big weird world is screaming out “Hey, here’s a sign!  Right here!  Lookee, there’s another!”  If only we, as the reigning intelligent beings on the planet, could recognize those signs for what they are.  Which brings me full-circle to the start of this entry. This morning, on my way home from my weekly jaunt to the local laundry, I found myself suddenly face-to-face, or rather nose-to-nose, with a pair of deer.  On the sidewalk.  Two-year-olds, I guessed, and lacking antlers.  Side-by-side, walking down the sidewalk.  Ironically, I was the one who froze in my tracks!  They both quite literally just looked me over casually and continued on down the sidewalk.  That was weird!

And I took it as a sign—and got the hell off the sidewalk!  You meet deer on the street and you don’t know what’s coming next!

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