Cave

Cave: (n) a large underground chamber in a hillside or cliff.

Cave men.

We just accept that these individuals existed. Basically, they’re described as a step up from a gorilla, and a few steps down from a sophomore in high school.

Here’s the problem–at least, the situation for me. The fact that the human race lived in caves seems intelligent. The enclosure would be
completely safe from the outside elements and would not require to be rebuilt every time a storm came along to blow it down.

And also, inside these caves are drawings. Therefore these cave men, which are supposedly not much more intelligent than apes, found pieces of charcoal and were able, from their brains, to replicate things they had seen and sketch them on a rock wall.

I feel very confident that I am more intelligent than a monkey–but if you put me in a cave, I don’t know if I could find the charcoal to draw with, or come up with a picture that anyone would recognize.

So what were cave men?

Were they people without the resources to build huts, produce weapons and tools, who just chose to climb into caves to protect themselves?

Or was this just a phase in a mental evolution the human race went through, to get to where we are now?

For after all, how much progress have we made away from the man cave?

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Appliance

dictionary with letter A

Appliance: (n) a piece of equipment designed to do a specific task, typically a domestic one.

I have often thought it would be a very intelligent maneuver to set my mind to becoming more of a handy man.

I have a very firm conviction (though many of you would consider it a superstition): I think my appliances know that I’m ignorant.

I think secretly they hide out in the kitchen, the bathroom or the office and plot ways to make me nervous by pretending to pull up lame at the most inopportune times so they can view me fidgeting nervously, wondering how to accomplish my task without them.

If you think about it, this is the only self-worth an appliance has. No one pops the bread in the toaster, has it cook to a golden brown and then pats the chrome while saying, “Thank you, toaster for doing your job.”

The only time we actually acknowledge the toaster, or any number of appliances, is when they decide to go on the fritz or become intermittent in some disgusting pattern. It is only then that we appreciate the value they bring to the household.

Is it too far out for me to believe that these appliances might have some sort of agreement among each other, to seek approval by refusing to operate?

So I think becoming a little more handy with tools, threatening to break them open and play with their innards, might be enough to rein them into submission.

Of course, the times I’ve hung around such skillful laborers, I have quickly deterred from my passion to pursue their abilities, because within moments, their explanations and terminology leave me totally baffled. (For instance, a friend of mine talked a good ten minutes about various types of screws before I realized he wasn’t being lascivious.)

So since I’m pathetic with the implements which might be able to fix my appliances, I’ve decided to be very polite, gentle and appreciative to them. Landing somewhere between encouraging a baby to walk and a dog to retrieve a frisbee, I have developed lingo for each and every one of them to let them know how much I value their service.

  • So the dishwasher is “dear.”
  • The toaster is “cool, man.”
  • And the blender is “wow.”

I hope by using these little bursts of encouragement, I can keep them operating in tip-top shape…so they don’t feel the need to threaten me with the silent treatment or their shut-down mode.

 

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Aplenty

dictionary with letter A

Aplenty (adj): in abundance (e.g.he has work aplenty.)

I needed this word this morning.

Often my perspective needs an adjustment and I have neither the aptitude nor the tools.

Why? Because the momentum of my heart and soul has been stalled by my mind and body. These roommates fight all the time–and just when I think that my emotions and spirituality have gained an edge, my greedy brain and my insatiable appetites rally their forces and win the day.

It’s always over the same issue: is this going to be enough?

  • It’s why romances break up–because we begin to believe that the person we once adored has somehow become dowdy.
  • It’s how obesity overtakes our physical frame–because we’re convinced that our usual single doughnut isn’t quite enough to finish our cup of coffee.
  • It’s how many people abandon spirituality–because they expect God to make the journey to them instead of meeting Him halfway.

For me, it was looking ahead to a busy day and wondering if I had the wherewithal to cover the many nuances. Rather than taking it one step at a time, and realizing the fact that I was breathing was certainly a positive sign, I instead allowed my brain to become worrisome, which immediately made my body grow fatigued in sympathy.

I don’t know what “aplenty” is. By the time I’m convinced that I have enough, I sit there alone with my stockpile–having missed the present opportunity.

Maybe that’s the definition of maturity: keep firing your bullets and stop counting your ammunition.

 

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