Why?

 

Why?

                                Roger Federer, Wimbledon 2009

Image courtesy Wikimedia Commons

Until I wrote my recent ‘Grunt and Sigh’ post, I’d never thought about why people do it, particularly the former. Boud came nearest the explanation when she commented, ‘Grunting helps strengthen your core.’ It certainly does have something to do with the core.

Rising from sitting requires abdominal and hip muscles to work, and a degree of core engagement. With age, muscles weaken, the body strains more, and the effort is expressed in a grunt or groan. Sometimes, people involuntarily hold their breath when making a physical effort, like standing up, and the air released at the end of the action comes out as a grunt.

The grunt is an involuntary reflex, a minor form of Valsalva manoeuvre. The Valsalva manoeuvre is a breathing technique used to slow down heart rate, or clear blocked ears. Basically, it is performed by holding the nose and breathing out while keeping the mouth closed. Air is forced into the eustachian tubes and the ears ‘pop,’ equalising the pressure in them.

Grunting becomes habit.

Tennis players, champion grunters, have several reasons for making such a racket. (Note the pun on words!)

Sports scientists have shown that players who grunt serve faster, and complete their groundstrokes faster. Grunts also release tension and improve the timing of strokes. The noise ‘synchronises breathing precisely with hitting the ball.’

Other reasons for grunting probably come under the heading of gamesmanship. Grunts can be distracting to an opponent, and can affect how quickly they react to a shot. If they cannot hear the ball on the racquet, they cannot judge its speed and direction as effectively.

Grunting has spoilt my pleasure in watching tennis on television. If only there were a way to screen out the noise, just leaving the commentary, the crowd reaction, and the umpire’s calls . . .

A perfect gentleman

 

A perfect gentleman

Gilbert, wet from a swim, modelling his tracker. He and Roxy wear trackers every time they go for a walk.

In our house there is a lobby between the sitting room and the kitchen. It has four doorways, but only three doors. One door leads from the sitting room. One doorway leads into the kitchen. One door leads to the integral garage, which houses everything but a car, and where things disappear never to be seen again. One door conceals the downstairs loo.

It is a reasonably-sized area, and houses one of the cat litter trays, and a gallon bucket of water. All the animals, including visitors, avail themselves of it, and small children are discouraged from plunging their hands and heads into it.

One wise dog, long gone, our gentle Dalmatian, Dominie, always used to have a good drink before she went out for a walk. None of the others has ever done that, but they go immediately to drink on returning home.

Gilbert is very sensitive, ever willing to please, and mortified if he thinks he has done something inappropriate. He also keeps an eye on Roxy when they are out, and if she hangs back, or remains too long in one spot, he draws attention to the fact.

At home, he frequently curls up by my feet, as he did when he was a puppy, while Roxy spreads herself out in everyone’s way. That way she cannot be ignored.

Today, after their walk, Gilbert was having a long drink. I was in the kitchen, needing to go past him into the sitting room. Without a word or gesture from me, he shifted his body so that I had room to pass.

He is a perfect gentleman.

 

Grunt and Sigh

 

         

Grunt and Sigh

 Jaques in Shakespeare’s play, ‘As You Like It,’ details the seven ages of man. Since the play was written five hundred years ago, women play only a peripheral part in his monologue, appearing as the nurse to the (boy) child.

The stages he mentions are Infant, Schoolboy, Lover, Soldier, Justice, Pantaloon (old man) and Second childishness.

Nowhere does he mention the ‘Grunt and Sigh’ age of mankind, the time of life when rising from a seated position, or lifting a heavy burden, or pulling weeds, can only be accomplished successfully and readily when accompanied by a ‘grunt.’ Neither does he give time and space to the ‘sigh’ that so often follows the ‘grunt,’ when tired limbs are dropped onto a comfortable surface for rest and possibly a cup of tea.

Grunting and sighing creep up on slippered feet until they become a natural part of mankind’s existence. Too late does the executor realise that the soundtrack to life is now a series of grunts and sighs, varying in volume and expression according to the effort expended.

Do tennis players realise how much their grunts irritate onlookers? Are their grunts followed by sighs of satisfaction, or disappointment, or are the sighs simply an expulsion of breath on the wings of a curse or a prayer?

Grunt and sigh – what would Shakespeare have made of it?

Slasher film

 

Slasher film

I came across the term ‘slasher film’ only recently, so had to investigate a little. I found this:

‘’Slasher films are a subgenre of horror centred on a killer who stalks and murders a group of victims, typically using bladed or close‑range weapons. They emphasize suspense, escalating body counts, and the fear of being hunted.”

Blood and gore, suspense, physical and psychological horror, endless unrealistic ‘fights,’ at least two riveting chases across unlikely terrain, like rooftops (why do perpetrators always attempt to escape upwards?)

Many people enjoy watching horror films, for the thrill of almost being involved and having the associated adrenaline rush in the safety of a cinema or their home. The desire to watch participants fighting and enduring terrible injuries dates back at least to Ancient Rome.

Gladiatorial performances were conducted from 264 BC for almost one thousand years. They were not always ‘fights to the death,’ as films have suggested, but were refereed. Gladiators might fight two or three times a year, and have a career of several years.

Slasher films might be portrayed as modern fairy stories, showing the victory of good over evil. Some films have seemed to glory in the deeds of their villains, with sequential films showing the evil-doer as the main focus, an anti-hero as hero, maybe.

The most affecting and effective horror is that which is suggested rather than shown.

I do not like horror films at all. There are enough terrible things happening in the world without seeking them as entertainment.

 How about you?

 

 

Improving

 

Improving

He has a faintly piratical look now, but with a white patch, rather than a black.

It’s been two and half months since Jellicoe’s operation. His eye is improving all the time. He’ll never look the same again, but his personality remains unchanged.

In every other respect, he’s back to normal, doing everything he’s accustomed to. It’s good to see.

As he was, with symmetrical facial markings

Arthur takes a trip

 

Arthur takes a trip

 Drugs are Bad, Mkay?

Five-year-old Arthur is an affectionate, confident, working Cocker spaniel with a busy nose and an ever-wagging tail. Living in London with Susannah, his walks are enlivened by enticing smells of fox poo, which he eats, or rolls in, or both (ugh!) There is far more fox poo in the cities than there is in the countryside. Country foxes roam far and wide, while urban foxes haunt gardens, and restaurants, and rubbish bins, where the pickings are easy.

If Arthur is caught before he indulges in a tasty ‘treat,’ he is disappointed, but philosophical. (There’s always tomorrow!) However, if he is discovered mid-snack, he rapidly gobbles whatever it is. That is precisely what he did on Thursday last week, local election day. All Susannah could ascertain was that it was a large amount of ‘something’ as it disappeared down his gullet.

Shortly after he arrived home with his mistress, he began to display signs of distress. He appeared frightened, was lethargic, flinching, and occasionally trembling, and was most unlike his normal, extrovert self. Susannah rushed him to the emergency vet, who confirmed her fears that he had been poisoned. By the time she left him with the vets, where he was to spend the remainder of the day, he was extremely unsteady on his feet, though he made a feeble attempt to follow her. 

Blood tests revealed that he had swallowed cannabis, along with newspaper and fox poo, which were evident when he was made to vomit. A dose of activated charcoal was administered to reduce absorption of the toxins. He was monitored for the remainder of the day, and was pleased to see Susannah when she went to pick him up, though still quite unlike himself.

He slept a lot on Friday and was not interested in his toys, or food. He’s normally very tolerant of the cats, but was irritable with them. Always a dog wanting a lot of attention and overt affection, he was more than usually insistent on reassurance, as he still seemed scared and disorientated.

By Saturday, he was much improved and even went out for a short walk, on the lead. He was unusually tired after it, panting a lot, but his appetite was returning, and his usual ebullient character was coming to the fore once more. On Sunday, his eyes still betrayed signs of confusion, but he was almost back to normal. He now has to become accustomed to a muzzle, which he hates, to prevent further accidents, while training is ongoing to teach him not to pick up and eat tasty morsels. He is not a greedy dog, but some forbidden things seem extraordinarily attractive to him.

Cannabis poisoning is a common emergency in dogs and is effectively treated if quickly recognised. It affects dogs intensely because they have more cannabinoid receptors, so the chemical in cannabis binds more powerfully. THC (tetrahydrocannabinol) is fat-soluble, meaning that it is absorbed with dietary fat and so stays longer in the body, rather than being flushed out quickly.

Poor Arthur certainly did not have a pleasant 'trip,' and ‘coming down’ after it was not enjoyable. The whole experience was frightening and bewildering, seventy-two hours of his life that were a nightmare.

My word, you do look queer.

How and why cannabis had been left under a bush in a London park is a mystery. Was it a deliberate ploy to poison animals, a ‘drop spot’ for someone to access, a secret stash, or an accidental loss? There will never be answers, just speculation.

Fields of Tequila

 

Fields of Tequila

To be more precise, fields of blue agave which will contribute to Tequila! 

Agave tequilana, commonly called blue agave (agave azul) or tequila agave

Image courtesy Wikimedia Commons

An image of a field of blue agave appeared on my screen earlier this week. I took a screen shot, but cannot find it now! 

                                            Image courtesy Wikimedia Commons

Green, or at least, not blue agave, produces Mescal.