Baby, you’re so vain…

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Is that your shoe or are you just happy to see me? 

An obsession for foot attire is nothing new in the world of fashion. Here we see two men of medieval nobility somewhere between the 14th & 15th century wearing what is known as the Crackowe, in the 13th century the phallic based shoe line was called a Poulaine and understood to extend to a length of two feet. 

A medieval pissing contest if you will, ‘my poulaine is bigger than yours.’ 

Gentlemen, gentlemen, please…

If we think catcalls are crude can you imagine having one of these wiggled in your direction when walking from point A to B? oh’ no you didn’t.

In latter years, even parliament got involved limiting the vulgar display to sizes worn based on social status. If your yearly income did not meet the said requirement, you were prohibited from wearing the footwear at all.

The term “Satan’s Claw” is not only a movie title in the seventies but a reference to the unendearing shoe to the Christian church and considered God’s revenge in the form of the Black Death since no other explanations were found.

The lovely slipper is also the major contributor to the term, “playing footsies.” 

(I may have just regurgitated my lunch.)

It seems media, as much as I’d like, can’t be entirely blamed for the insecurities of humankind. Lacking self-esteem is seen historically in men and women looking to boost their attractive qualities and sexual prowess in a multitude of expressions. Need I mention cod-pieces or how women were known to bleed themselves in order to gain the perfect shades of white.

Power of suggestion, popularity, social status…this ugly wheel of self-deprecation keeps progressing and churning no matter our evolution.

I pray one day we truly understand the deeper meaning of life.

“You have always been enough.”

Write On! ❤ Jess

PS: If you’d like to join me as I complete my Nano project in the month of February, I created a group called Feb’YoWriMo. No pressure writing, just encouragement.

https://www.facebook.com/groups/287548135103603

 

 

 

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slaying thine dragons

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Year 2017 my how you haunteth’ me. 

 

I find it hard to believe this past year has come and long gone and while I know we are sick of reading the newest “New Year” revelations, I am destined to drivel that mine.

#WhatTheHeck happened? 

Writing has hovered like an incessant gnat making me cross-eyed over these past few months. Life’s otherwise difficulties dive bombed any thoughts or inclinations for me to ‘type’ it out and here we are a full week into the month of January. 

“I think I can” left the moment I signed up for NaNoWriMo and, “I think I didn’t” raised a fluorescent flag come to the end of the month. The ordeal began with a successful writing sprint, November 3rd, among my peers never finding paper again.

My will and desire to pen thoughts did not disappear. My beautiful outline waves in the distance. She will be written, and so I declare Feb’yoWriMo for me. I need these last days of January to regain my rhythm, pick up my blogging pace, let my fellow thespians, ‘life is an acting job,’ restore their belief in my dedication and, perhaps, thou art me.

I not only say goodbye to what was in the year two-thousand seventeen, I wish most to let those lost know precisely how much I cared. Onward I go with your smile in my heart and love, my, how I loved thee.

 

Truly-<3 Jess

 

 

A farewell to Summer & #MidSummer #Madness

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Bon Jour!

Don’t look shocked, it’s true, I’m alive. Gloriously so and blessed. Thank you for always being present and patient in my life! Let’s get to it….

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We’ve all heard the term “Summer Madness” or, perhaps, the genuine terminology “Mid-Summer Madness.” The Classical definition is a temporary lapse into foolishness, senseless behavior, folly, etc., especially during the summer.

The term has a very intéressant ring to it, don’t you think? Have you ever wondered where the phrase originated? I would imagine many know the answer, but I did not. I found the answer fascinating, so let me…what else? share.

During the medieval era, diets consisted mainly of fish, bread, and meat. Bread being, of course, a very consistent staple. Lower societal classes dined on breads made with barley and rye, while upper classes enjoyed loaves made with wheat.

So? you say…

Let’s get to the gritty….summertime in medieval Europe wasn’t about bikinis and the beach.

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(Roman woman athletes, I know…)

It was a time of the year when grain supplies were dwindling, harvesting still months away. Much of the remaining grain stock possibly mildewed due to poor storage and growing temperatures.

The resulting fungus, a deadly inhabitant, called Ergot.

A medieval LSD, if you will, a mind-altering hallucinogen. Alkaloids within the fungi deliver the punch, affecting neuro-transmissions and circulation. Rye is ergot’s favorite host, but can also be found in barley and wheat. The resulting effect, worst-case-scenario type, in mammals (not only humans), small and large, is technically termed Ergotism. Even a nursing mother can pass the illness to her infant.

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Hence “crazy bread” originated, and I’m not talking Little Caesars.

Ergot is founded to be the most probable answer to many “devil-induced” epidemics and varied plagues across time. Imagine these contaminated grains combined with sugars of today? Major explosion to the immune system. Not a laughing matter when you consider the population is riddled with growing auto-immune disorders linked to, you guessed it, the consumption of grains.
Write-On! ❤ Jess

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“No, sweet child, unicorns are #Not real, but they sure make #pretty pictures.”

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Dearest me, did I really say that? I crushed my granddaughter’s heart the day I revealed to her that “unicorns weren’t real,” and, emphatically added, “they did not dance on rainbows.” Why? I thought I was doing the “grandmotherly” thing and told her what I believed as truth. Yet, how could I explain away that even I dabble in fables dusted with a hint of other-worldly magic, as easily as dusting our movie time popcorn with salt?

I retracted my statement. And like every great parent, I now buy her everything “unicorn” that I can get my hands on. Hoping, she will forget those atrocious words that came out of my mouth. Right?

How exactly did Scotland come up with this mystical white pony to be it’s country’s talisman? ( I see that most times it is depicted the size of a horse, but also has been represented as small as a goat, so pony is plausible.)

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