I saw a passing reference on social media to "8D sound" and, curious, did a little research. Some sources claim that all those sound channels can expand your brain in miraculous ways, and so I had to get a listen for myself. It had been a while since I had used my AirPods, though, so first, I had to charge them.
Then, when I fit them in my ears, I got a notification on my phone that they had been updated, and not only could I customize them to my ears, I could also take a hearing test and then use them as hearing aids if necessary. The 8D sound had to wait another five minutes while I did the screening. My results were heartening: 11 dBHL in the left and 13 in the right, which, according to the health app, indicates little to no hearing loss.
With that knowledge, it was on to the 8D audio! I found that there was a mixture of binaural beats, instrumental, and cover songs available, and tapping a track at random, I was immediately arrested by the sound. I actually felt surrounded by the music, and all the sounds were clear and balanced. It was remarkable.
A little further investigation revealed that this technology isn't really all that new. The combination of equalization and panning techniques has been around in some form since the 1970s. In the last 5 years or so, though, its purported effect on people with neurodivergent brains has gotten much attention on social media, notably TikTok. That attention has encouraged artists to include more 8D production on their tracks.
As I browsed, I found playlists going several years back filled with familiar songs by artists I certainly knew, and listening to clips from those with my Air Pods, I recognized the grand production value. I guess I just never noticed before.
I returned to my hearing test results and the accompanying chart. There, I could see that I have more trouble hearing higher sounds, which I know is common as you age. I also saw that my hearing is good, but not excellent, and that smarted a little. But what could I do? Nothing, but tap play and listen to a little more superb audio.
Heidi was hoping to have Valentine's Day pencils to give to her students, but we haven't been able to find any this year despite looking in the usual places. Even so, when I told her I needed to make a quick stop at the grocery store this afternoon, she chose to tag along and asked if we could give that pencil hunt one more go.
The grocery store should have tipped us off. Is it possible that I have never been shopping on Valentine's Day Eve? It must be so because I was unprepared for the crowds we encountered.
The produce section was stuffed with extra floral displays, including a makeshift custom arrangement pop-up. Every other endcap had holiday-themed candy, cookies, or cupcakes, and every shopper had some Valentine's Day item in their possession. Meanwhile, the Valentine's Day proper display was wiped out. Gone were the cards and trinkets that children buy in sets of 20 for the kids in their classes. There were also no pencils.
Undeterred, we decided to check out the dollar store across the way. Oh my! First, there was zero parking, so I let Heidi out, and as I circled the lot, I saw a steady flow of folks carrying shopping bags with all manner of pink and red poking out the top, as well as many people trying to manage huge balloon bouquets as they made their ways to their cars through the gusty wind.
When, at last, I found a space and made my way into the store, I found chaos: children running and pushing down aisles lined with empty shelves and a line for the registers that ran all the way to the back of the place. But there were no pencils.
"They probably haven't made pencils since 2020," I laughed once we were back to the car. "It's taken this long to exhaust the existing supply, but somebody somewhere made the call that handwritten work was dead." I was only half kidding.
"Schools need pencils," Heidi scoffed.
"I'm sure someone will recognize that," I agreed. "But by then, there will be a tariff on them. No more cheap pencils for you!"
We got near the maximum amount of snow predicted for the storm overnight, and it was beautiful. A proverbial blanket of white covered the ground, and all the trees were flocked with heavy dollops of snow. School was out, but it was quiet around here, and the snow remained undisturbed for most of the day, even as the temperatures warmed above freezing and the roads were cleared.
Then, just as was also predicted, as night fell, so did the rain. What a difference a few degrees makes! A little colder, and we might have had one of those back-to-back blizzards that February is famous for around here. As it is, the rain is supposed to continue through the night, washing away all the snow, and schools are even opening on time.
One of my errands today involved a little self-care, but not in the traditional way you might think. My treat for myself was to have all my kitchen knives sharpened while I waited.
Yes! Ten knives while I waited. This new machine uses a laser scan and industrial grinders to restore a burr-free beveled edge to the knife blade with almost no material loss. Each knife takes 90 seconds or less, and it's all housed in a big, plexiglass cube, so you can watch the process as it happens. And? The machine was located at a hardware store about 3 miles from my house.
I am so excited to use them! Any cook will tell you what a great pleasure working with a sharp knife is. And now I have ten! Plus, I know just what to do when they lose their edge again.
Some words of Mary Oliver ran through my mind as I walked Lucy today:
Instructions for Living a Life
Pat attention.
Be astonished.
Tell about it.
I think that's basically what I've been trying to do with this blog for the last 16 years, although lately, the astonishment piece has not been as positive as I like. So, as I walked, I remembered another Oliver poem, one that is almost like a prayer to me. In fact, it would be a good idea to say this every night before going to sleep or every morning before rising.
When I am Among the TreesMary OliverWhen I am among the trees,especially the willows and the honey locust,equally the beech, the oaks and the pines,they give off such hints of gladness.I would almost say that they save me, and daily.I am so distant from the hope of myself,in which I have goodness, and discernment,and never hurry through the worldbut walk slowly, and bow often.Around me the trees stir in their leavesand call out, “Stay awhile.”The light flows from their branches.And they call again, “It's simple,” they say,“and you too have comeinto the world to do this, to go easy, to be filled with light,and to shine.”
