by Fern Shaw | Jul 8, 2014 | Health and Hydration
As I’ve said – okay, typed – before, drinking water = power (or energy) but who would’ve thunk it, that apparently, naps too = power.
Before you get the idea that I’m trying to propagate my ‘Sloths Rule!’ philosophy, let me assure you, this power nap deal is not only true, but a fact!
From the blogista’s friend Wiki:
A power nap is a short sleep which terminates before the occurrence of deep sleep or slow-wave sleep (SWS), intended to quickly revitalise the subject. The expression was coined by Cornell University social psychologist James Maas.
Characteristics
The power nap is thought to maximise the benefits of sleep versus time. It is used to supplement normal sleep, especially when a sleeper has accumulated a sleep deficit.
Various durations are recommended for power naps, which are very short compared to regular sleep. The short duration of a power nap is designed to prevent nappers from sleeping so long that they enter a normal sleep cycle without being able to complete it. Going beyond sleep stages I and II but failing to complete a full sleep cycle, can result in a phenomenon known as sleep inertia, where one feels groggy, disoriented, and even sleepier than before beginning the nap. Brief naps can improve alertness directly after awakening without the detrimental effects of sleep inertia associated with longer naps.
Scientific experiments and anecdotal evidence suggest that an average power nap duration of around 30 minutes is most effective. Any more time, and the body enters into its usual sleep cycle. People who regularly take power naps may develop a good idea of what duration works best for them, as well as what tools, environment, position, and associated factors help induce the best results.
This I can certainly attest to.
I’ll come clean though, I never actually have had a power nap at work – what I have had though, is a power nap when I’ve been running on empty between Job A and Job B in one day. So, let’s say that I leave Job A, zoom home and I have a gap of an hour or so before needing to leave for Job B. Let’s also say that perhaps I’ve been a little naughty on my water intake for the day (yes, it does happen) and my battery is blinking red. I’ve been known to sit down on my evil couch, lean back and close my eyes. When I wake up, magically, 20 to 45 minutes later, without any type of alarm, I definitely feel better, not groggy or tired at all, as mentioned above.
I can’t say that it will work for everyone as I believe everyone’s make-up is different, but I can say that it most definitely does work. So, more power to you, fellow nappers, as you embark on the Journey of the Power Nap.
by Fern Shaw | Jul 8, 2014 | Health and Hydration
Recently my colleague Belinda sent me a link to an interesting article about recycling the other day. Have a look-see here.
While perusing the how-to’s, I saw a bit about glass. Faster than Spidey’s sticky web, my attention was caught fast.
One of my many, many fascinations has to do with glass. I always thought that in another reality, I would have been a champion glass blower. I really love most things glass. Venetian glass; smoky glass; swirly patterned glass; glass bowls; glass vases; coloured drinking glasses …
Something that I wasn’t aware of though is how incredibly important it is to recycle glass. I think perhaps because I know that glass is made out of sand (how amazing is that!?) I imagined that it would somehow decompose. This is not the case. In fact, it’s the complete opposite. If one doesn’t recycle glass, it can take thousands of years to decompose and that’s just the tip of the iceberg.
So, how exactly is glass recycled? From the average Joe(ess) perspective, it’s really pretty simple:
- Your part is to collect your glass and throw it into a marked recycle bin. The glass recycling image will generally look similar to the image above.
- Glass is taken from the bin and taken to a glass treatment plant.
- The glass is sorted by colour and washed to remove any impurities.
- The glass is then crushed and melted, then moulded into new products such as bottles and jars. Or it may be used for alternative purposes such as brick manufacture or decorative uses.
- The glass is then sent back to the shops ready to be used again.
- Glass does not degrade through the recycling process, so it can be recycled repeatedly.
Debate rages about whether one uses more water rinsing out glass at home – an idea is to use your dirty dishwater to do this.
A recent campaign has indicated that the recycling of one 750ml wine bottle can power a single globe for ½ an hour. The more bottles are recycled, the energy that it provides increases exponentially.
So, whereas we may think of recycling only in terms of watching our water usage or cutting down on something like tossing away plastic bags willy nilly; the fact is that being kind to ourselves, future generations and most importantly, to Mama Earth, is about far more than this. I for one, will most certainly be taking all my glass to recycling points in future. Shall you?
by Fern Shaw | Jul 8, 2014 | Health and Hydration
The thickest, the oldest, the tallest, etcetera, etcetera …
Sadly, this will be my swan song blog to do with trees. The ‘trees for the office’ protest at the water cooler is being disbanded. Suffice to say it involved some choice language, some sawed through hemp rope, a water soaked carpet and a few bruised egos. Both Mrs Fitzsimmons and I are required to avoid the area around the water cooler and are to have nominated representatives to refill our water bottles for the next week.
However, as with all good swansongs, I’ve saved the best ‘til last.
These are Britain’s most spectacular trees, identified in a new study of prime specimens across the country.
Tallest: A 211ft grand fir planted in the 1870s beside Loch Fyne, Argyll. It is thought to be the UK’s tallest tree since before the last ice age. The fir, in Ardkinglas Woodland Gardens, has “died back” twice in the last 20 years – meaning the top has died, as a result of drought or a lightning strike, before growing back.
Thickest: “Majesty”, a pedunculate oak, in Fredville Park, a privately-owned estate, near Dover, Kent, has a trunk 13ft across, when measured at chest height, with a circumference of 40ft. It keeps this girth up to a height of about 20ft, but is completely hollow.
Biggest (in terms of volume of timber): A sessile oak growing in the grounds of Croft Castle, a National Trust property in Herefordshire. It is 115ft tall with a trunk 9ft thick at its base, with a volume calculated at 3,800 cubic feet, making it Britain’s biggest living thing.
Oldest: There are three in this category, all yews, all in churchyards and all up to 5,000 years old, making them what are thought to be the oldest living organisms in Europe. They are at Fortingall, in Perthshire, Discoed, in Powys, and Llangernyw, in Conwy. Many churchyards boast yew trees, which often predate the church and may have marked pagan burial grounds.
Rarest: There are several tree species of which only specimen exists, including the Audley End oak, (Quercus audleyensis). It was planted in 1772, at Audley End, Essex – now an English Heritage site. Attempts have been made to plant grafts, but all have died.
Most spreading: An Oriental plane at Corsham Court – a privately-owned historic house in Wiltshire – covers an area almost the size of a football pitch, with an average spread of more than 210ft. Planted in 1757, it is so vast that its lowest branches rest on the ground and some have taken root. The largest “unsupported” crown is thought to belong to a Turkey oak, near Shute House, in Devon, which is up to 177ft across – 70 per cent wider than the dome of St Paul’s Cathedral.
Fastest growing: A silvertop – a species of eucalypt – which grew to the height of a seventh floor window (66ft), in the space of six years. The tree, at Harcourt Arboretum – which is run by the University of Oxford – died last winter. Other swift growers include a hybrid poplar, in Kingscliff Wood, Somerset, which reached 98ft in 17 years.
So, there you have it, trees of Britain, in all their glory. Long may they reign, or shade, or give sustenance to.
*Extracts from an article in The Telegraph by Jasper Copping
by Fern Shaw | Jun 17, 2014 | Health and Hydration
As I think we’ve pretty much established by now, I’ve a wide range of things that fascinate me, and a lot of my fascination has to do with Mum Nature. I specify la Mama Nature, and don’t just say nature, because nature can mean how organisms and beings (like us for example) behave. This is not that nature. This is MAMA Nature.
Take moss, for example. No, I did NOT say Kate Moss, I said …! Oh well, never mind – moving swiftly along. I always laugh about moss because of a particular slang expression that was popular in our ‘hood was using the word ‘mos’ after a statement. e.g. ‘He only drinks PG Tips, mos’.
Some factual intro info: –
Moss grows in cool, moist places, often forming dense, velvety masses of vegetation. Individual plants as well as the masses are called moss. Mosses are related to liverworts and hornworts.
About 14,000 species of mosses occur throughout the world, from the Polar Regions to the tropics. Most species live on shady ground, on rock ledges, or on tree trunks. (Moss clumps are most common on the side of the tree that gets the most shade and moisture, often the north side.) A number of species live in rivers and ponds. Moss plants do not grow in saltwater.
The moss plant is hardy. During a dry spell it turns brown or black, and looks dead; but it becomes green again as soon as rain falls. The mosses are among the first plants to establish themselves on rocky ground. They slowly break down the rock, preparing the way for more highly developed plants. Moss plants absorb many times their weight in moisture; they soak up rainfall on hillsides, helping to prevent erosion. The soil-building and moisture-conserving work of the mosses is indirectly of great importance to humans. The only type of moss of direct use to humans is the bog moss, or sphagnum. It forms peat, a fuel, and peat moss, a garden mulch and soil conditioner. Dried sphagnum is used as packing material in shipping plants. Thinking of peat moss and how water filters through peat which can then form the basis for many a fine ‘usquebaugh’ (water of life) single malt whiskies and it’s no wonder that I should love all things moss-like.
Moss is pretty incredible as even if it lays dormant and dried out for decades, sufficient water enables it to spring back to life – quite miraculous in my opinion.
Some examples of types of moss:
Fern Moss (that’s me, that is!) grows on wet ground or tree trunks or in flowing water. It has sprawling branches that resemble fern sprays.
Pincushion Moss, a very tiny plant, forms a cushion at the base of trees in damp woods.
Silvery Bryum is common in pavement cracks and on dry compact ground. It has silvery shoots and dark green leaves.
Tree Moss is an erect plant forming dark-green clumps in woods and swamps. It is six inches (15 cm) tall and looks like a miniature tree.
Water Moss lives beneath the surface of streams and ponds. Its long, slender branches are covered with scaly, brownish-green leaves.
I recently read a novel, ‘The Signature of All Things’ by Elizabeth Gilbert. The novel follows the fortunes of Alma Whittaker (the daughter of a bold and charismatic botanical explorer) as she comes into her own within the world of plants and science. The description of Alma’s journey studying moss captured my imagination beyond belief and brought a new found respect for this incredibly ‘simple’ organism that is such a vital part of Nature.
Respek the moss, mos!
by Fern Shaw | Jun 17, 2014 | Health and Hydration
Photographer ~Jim Wilson/The New York Times
“Who’s a clever water then? Aw, go on, who’s a clever water then?’’
I haven’t gone barmy, (I think my level of barmy has long since been established), I’m referring to this little marvel:
‘*A lemon tree springs from the soil in Jason Aramburu’s backyard in Berkeley, California, alongside rose bushes, birds of paradise, strawberry plants and squash blossoms. The garden is thriving, but its upkeep requires almost no effort from Mr. Aramburu. Instead, a foot-high soil sensor does much of the work.
The plastic-and-stainless-steel device, topped by a tiny solar panel, determines the amount of water to be delivered to the garden each day, using Mr. Aramburu’s Wi-Fi network to communicate with a valve attached to his irrigation system. If the air is humid, or if rain is forecast, the valve limits or cuts off the supply. If the soil lacks nutrients, Mr. Aramburu receives an alert on a smartphone app telling him to add fertiliser. And it doesn’t hurt that the sensor initially analysed the clay-filled dirt of his yard and recommended which plants would thrive there.
The soil sensor and the water valve are Mr. Aramburu’s creations; he will soon begin selling them through his new company, Edyn. But his plan for his business goes beyond enabling people with upscale private gardens to cultivate things like exotic kale and heirloom beets. He also intends to sell sensors to farmers in developing nations at a low cost to help them grow food more efficiently and sustainably.’
Good on you, Mr Aramburu! Although I don’t mean to sound insensitive, never mind developing nations, his little sensor is something that could very much help my gardening efforts. Despite my best intentions (upending a packet of seeds into planters and hoping for the best), the most my poor garden has produced has been some monstrous dill (which prompted me to suddenly start making kosher dill pickles as it’s the only thing I could remember that needs dill); two rather alien looking peppers which sadly expired on the plant and some rather furry, low growing, to date unidentifiable veggie / herb that looks quite pretty but never produced anything vaguely edible looking.
I am, without question, a failure, when it comes to all things garden. See, that’s why inventions like those of Mr Aramburu are so necessary. No more over / under watering of said poor struggle plants from me. Come harvesting season, I’ll have a crop of healthy, happy, well fed veggies the like of which my garden has never seen.
*Excerpts from an article in the New York Times
