How hot is hot?

We complain about the cold in winter; we complain about the heat in summer. But how hot is hot? Like all good answers, “it depends.”

For example, hot in Vancouver is not hot in Texas. And hot in Texas is positively cool in comparison to Death Valley, California, where a world record temperature of 134 degrees was observed in 1913. (This temperature was matched on the 13^th of September 2012, in El Aziza, Libya.)

Surprisingly, humans can survive incredibly hot weather. It is noted that at 130 degrees F, survival time begins to decrease drastically, but it is estimated that people can survive temperatures of even 150 degrees, in dry conditions, for short periods of time, with adequate hydration. The Dallol Depression, also known as the Danakil Depression, a desert area in Ethiopia, is covered with sulphurous springs, lakes of boiling lava and an active volcano that spits out hot magma. The Afar people, who inhabit this place, eke out an existence herding camels and mining salt, in temperatures that regularly reach 122 degrees F.

The Earth itself is in a long cooling off period, known as the Quartenary Ice Age, which began 2.6 million years ago. Within it are periods of cooling temperatures lasting 100,000 years, interspersed with warmer cycles known as Interglacial periods. We live in once such Interglacial period, known as the Holocene, which began about 11,700 years ago.

Many scientists argue that the rapid industrialization of the past couple of hundred years has brought about an abnormal phenomenon known as global warming, caused by trapping man-made carbon dioxide in the atmosphere.

So how hot is hot? As far as I’m concerned, as a resident of Calgary, Canada, hot is never hot enough. We’ve had record heat this summer, but I’m not complaining—never-ending summer is what I dream of!

Mohan Ashtakala is the author of The Yoga Zapper (www.yogazapper.com) published by Books We Love (www.bookswelove.com)

John Lennon's Home

For more information about Susan Calder's books, or to purchase visit her Books We Love Author Page.

I became a teenager in February 1964, when The Beatles exploded on the North American scene. One week I was playing with dolls; the next week I was glued to top 40 radio and in love with Paul. So when my husband Will and I visited England this spring, it was natural for us to include a stop in Liverpool, home of the fab four. We discovered that Britain's National Trust has bought John Lennon's and Paul McCartney's boyhood homes and offers tours to the public. Will and I reserved  spots on the 16 person van, not really knowing what to expect.  

   
The driver took us first to John's house in Woolton, an affluent middle class suburb. The home's curator met us in the front yard and said that we can thank Yoko Ono for this tour. After John's death, Yoko purchased the house and donated it to The National Trust, along with money to develop and maintain it. The National Trust later bought Paul's home and hired a husband and wife to act as curators. The couple does research, buys artifacts from the boys' time and conducts tours, which are the only way for people to see inside. No indoor pictures are permitted. The curator also asked us to turn off our cell phones to preserve the homes' 1950s and 60s atmosphere. 

The curator explained the basics of John's story, known to most Beatles fans. When John was five, his aunt Mimi took over his upraising because she viewed his mother, her sister Julia, as irresponsible and John's father was out of the picture. John adored Julia, the creative, rebellious and fun sister and was devastated by her death. The curator pointed out the intersection where Julia was struck by a bus. John's boyhood friend, who has become a resource and friend of the curator, told him that Julia had stopped in to visit Mimi that night. The friend showed up, looking for John, and walked with Julia to the bus stop. Minutes later he heard and saw the crush, but was too late to save her.

The curator took us around to the back entrance, since upwardly mobile Mimi had reserved the front door for esteemed guests like the minister. Paul always entered by the kitchen too. Before she met Paul, Mimi was concerned about the working class teenager's friendship with John. But Paul's manners and refined speech passed her test. In contrast, Mimi later judged George Harrison scruffy and scorned his Liverpool scouse dialect. Still she let the boys practice their music in her living room, perhaps to keep an eye on them. Mimi was concerned about John's growing disinterest in his school work, despite his academic abilities. In retrospect her view that John would be a failure if he didn't go to university seems narrow and short sighted, what who could foresee the delinquent youth would become a famous Beatle? Mimi's husband died when John was about aged 10. So that she could afford to give John the opportunities she wanted for him, Mimi took in boarders and slept in her small sitting room. Evidently John appreciated all she did. The curator said that John phoned Mimi every week until his death.   

Gate to Strawberry Field near John's boyhood home. John's friend said that, as boys, they would climb the gate into the orphanage grounds to escape his Aunt Mimi's watchful eye.   

Inside the home, the curator guided us through the ground floor, decorated in Mimi's 1950s style. A few of her original pieces remain in the living room. She converted the dining room to a bedroom for John and Cynthia when they married and had baby Julian. Of course, John was always on the road by this point and rarely home. Cynthia found the living arrangement uncomfortable since Mimi didn't like the baby's crying. Cynthia would take Julian into the back yard until he calmed down.    

Aunt Mimi's back yard

The curator let us wander on our own upstairs. We saw John's small bedroom, with a guitar and posters like the ones his friend remembered being on the walls. When Mimi sold the house, John was rich. He and Mimi kept few of the original furnishings and items. John bought himself an even more posh house and later one for Mimi when she was tired of fans hanging around outside her door. 

After our hour at John's and Mimi's home, the van took us Paul's house, about a 15 minute drive away. I'll blog about that visit next month. Before leaving the tour, I asked the curator of Paul's house if The National Trust had plans to buy Ringo's and George's boyhood homes. She said this would be problematic. Ringo's home has since gone through many owners and would be difficult to return to its state at the time Ringo lived there. George's home is on a quiet court and neighbours would find the fans obtrusive. But I expect The National Trust will find a way around these problems if their tours of John's and Paul's homes become super popular with the world's legion of Beatles fans.      

Me and John across from Liverpool's Cavern Club, which launched The Beatles to fame.   

Taphophobia, Vivisepulture, and Safety Coffins

                                http://bookswelove.net/authorsw/stover-mystery-romance


         a Hood Canal Mystery           a Tacoma, Washington Mystery   a historical romance/mysery

                                                                 BY KARLA STOVER

Vivisepulture is the act of being buried alive.  Taphrophobia is fear of that act, and safety coffins were just that--burial cases designed to prevent the prematurely-declared dead from being prematurely buried. Something of which the Victorians had a horrible fear.

In 1851, after Virginia MacDonald's death, her mother insisted the burial had been premature. She argued with her family so long and so hard, they finally agreed to have Virginia's coffin open. To their horror, Virginia was no longer laying on her back but had shifted to her side and her fingers were chewed.

In 1896, the day after the burial of a Madame Blunden in Basingstoke, England, boys playing near her vault heard noises. They ran for their teacher who ran for the sexton. Her vault and coffin were opened just in time for Madame Blunden to take her last breath. She had torn at her face and bitten off her finger nails.

Southern General Robert E. Lee’s mother died on June 29, 1829. However, she was known to suffer from catalepsy and it is believed she went into a lengthy coma and was actually buried the first time in 1806. A slave working near her grave heard noises and ran for help. Her coffin was opened, and she was found to be still alive. The future general was born a year later.

A Google search will bring up other exaamples. Suffice it to say, a safety coffin was a must, and here are specifications on part of patent request #81,847, dated August 25, 1868:

On the portion of coffin lid directly over the body’s face, there is a square tube which “extends from the coffin up, through and over the surface of the grave, said cord containing a ladder and a cord, one end of the cord being placed in the hand of the “deceased” and "the other being attached to a bell on top of the square tube.” If consciousness returns, the person interred can either open the coffin and use the ladder to climb out or ring the bell. Depending on the circumstances, part or all of the “Improved Burial-Case” can be used again.

In literature, authors such as Edgar Allen Poe, Charles Dickens, and Sir Author Conan Doyle, among many others made use of the cataleptic condition. Likewise, Star Trek: Deep Space Nine, Doctor Quinn: Medicine Woman, and The Fisher King are just a few of movies and television shows which worked the condition into the plotline.

Embalming is an ancient practice which caught on in the western world around the time of the Civil War. A Scottish surgeon named William Hunter was among the first to use “the art of embalming as part of mortuary practice.” 

One of his followers was the dentist Martin Van Butchell. When Butchell’s wife Mary died on January 14, 1775, he decided to have her embalmed and turn her into an attraction in order to draw customers. Mary’s body was injected “with preservatives, and color additives to give her cheeks a glow." Glass eyes replaced her real ones, and she was dressed in a fine lace gown. The body was then embedded in a layer of plaster-of-paris, nicely paid out in a glass-topped coffin, and put in the window of his home. It was saaid that "many Londoners came to see it" (or her). However, Butchell was criticized for his gruesome display. “A rumor, possibly started by Butchell himself, claimed that his wife's marriage certificate had specified that her husband would only have control over her estate after her death for as long as her body was kept unburied.”

When Butchell remarried, his new wife, Elizabeth, demanded that that Mary be removed from the window. “Butchell gave the body to Dr. Hunter's brother for his own museum. However, Mary eventually ended up in the Royal College of Surgeons' museum.

Unfortunately, the embalming proved to be ineffective and deteroriation set in. In May 1941, the body of Mary Butchell was finally destroyed in a German bombing raid.”


Under “15 Corpses You Can Still See Today” are Kim Jong-II, Mao Zedong, Ferdinand Marcos, St. Bernadette, the child, Rosalia Lombardo (an optical illusion make it see as if her eyes open and close), the English philosopher and social reformer,  Jeremy Bentham (on display sitting up in a cabinet at the University London College, and, of course, Lenin (so far his upkeep has cost $210,000).  Joseph Stalin used to be on display next to Lenin but due to de-Stalinization, he was removed. Also, there are a lot of mummies around (we have one in Tacoma, a museum favorite) but for purposes of this article, they don’t count.