Christmas Markets on the Elbe: Wittenberg
Off to Wittenberg, where our guide Christian takes us first to the old Catholic Church where Martin Luther posted his 95 theses, against practices of the Catholic Church which, according to his reading of scriptures, were just wrong and needed to be corrected. He did not intend to create a schism or a new religion. So here is the portal where there once was a door that is no more, burned in a fire, where Luther posted his 95 theses requesting correction of wrong-doings by the church.














From there, visited various neighborhoods in Wittenberg, visiting Martin Luther’s home with Katerina Von Bora (a wondrous woman Luther referred to as his morning star, a hilarious reference with a double entendre, as a morning star is also a lethal medieval cudgel with pointed spikes on its head.

We ended up downtown at St. Mary’s, the church where Martin Luther preached, a beautiful fine place, more simple and much less elaborate than the Catholic Church. Christian gave us so much information; that I am now not able to keep it all straight.



I am grinning because someone had made a snowball and tucked it in Katarina’s curled hand. It wasn’t me! I didn’t do it! But it did give me a grin.
Below is the church where Martin Luther preached, after being excommunicated from the church and marrying Katarina Von Bora, who escaped a nunnery with several other women not interested in being nuns.






He told us about Luther’s anti-Semitism, in the context of the times, and of the town and the church’s continuing attempts to find redemption in coordination with its Jewish community. Christian told us about the tragic waste of the holocaust, how it hurt all humanity, and that the German people are determined that such a mindset will never again take hold in today’s Germany. We can only hope.
This time, we were successful in obtaining money from the ATM. We wandered through the Christmas Market and found our way back to the bus. We had a short trip to meet up once again with the Beyla, which in our absence, had transferred to the little town of Zahna-Elster. We quickly cleaned up, ate lunch and the Beyla left Zahna-Elster to make our way up the Elbe to Torgau, where the American Forces and Russian forces met near the end of World War II.
For the first time since our departure on Monday, we have had some time to breathe. We strolled through the lounge, admiring all the decorated Christmas trees, we organized our room, participated in the safety drill, and met up once again with Janice and Don. It was over very quickly, we came back to our cabin and as my husband napped, I uploaded photos, caught up with correspondence, and organized my thoughts to begin this journal of our journey.
I went to the nearby coffee and tea station, which also has three kinds of cookies, to pick up some chocolate cookies before I woke my husband (his favorite cookies). We gathered in the lounge for the Port Talk with Eva, as she briefed us on tomorrow’s excursions and events. After that, there is a walk into Torgau to view the memorial.
We went early enough to get good seats for the Port Talk, but as my husband decided he would go after all (he hadn’t wanted to get so cold again), and I decided not to go – Eve had emphasized how slippery it was and that anyone with mobility problems might not want to go, and that Torgau is always the coldest place she has ever visited, LOL. I thought “I’ll just skip this one.”
I snuggled under the featherbed, happy not to be out hiking in the dark.
Christmas Markets on the Elbe: Viking Beyla

When we signed up for this trip, the world was still deep in the midst of the COVID plague, and signing up was a leap of faith. We loved that Viking gave us a risk-free guarantee; if we needed to cancel, we would lose nothing. We admire Viking for the integrity of their operations, the quality of the people they hire, the respect with which they treat their employees, and the high degree of content in their shore excursions. We also greatly appreciate the freedom they give us to go on their excursions or to go on our own, and that they provide shuttles back to the ship.
For almost three years we waited to take this trip. We love Viking’s ocean voyages, and we also love the river voyages, particularly because many times they dock right in the city we are visiting and we can come and go, have dinner at some amazing restaurant on land, as long as we are back at the ship for departure. Viking is a line for grown-ups. They treat us with respect, and most of their customers are repeat customers.
We had no idea what the sailing part of this trip would look like. We found a couple YouTube videos and they made it look rural, somewhat industrial, and kind of boring. Our experience – admittedly enhanced by almost unceasing light snowfall – was very different. It was magical.













The portrait of Beyla, handmaid to Freya at the head of the stairs.










On our last day aboard the Beyla, the fire warning sounded. Our cabin attendant said it must be a mistake, but shortly after that, the Captain made an announcement asking all passengers to please move to the lounge, which we did. We didn’t know what was happening, but learned there was a small fire in the engine room, and they wanted to be sure the passengers were kept safe.



Our admiration for Viking procedures only grew. We made an unscheduled docking, where fire trucks and police appeared while we were eating lunch. How did the kitchen crew get lunch ready while there was a fire alert? How did all the scheduled tours get re-routed to accomodate the new docking?


It wasn’t scary. It was fascinating. We love operational planning, and we love to see professionals in action during inevitable unforeseen circumstances. We thought Viking handled this disturbance with poise and good training.
And now back to our daily destinations and Christmas Markets!

Christmas Markets on the Elbe: Berlin to Potsdam

We spent so many hours planning our time in Berlin, only to realize no matter how many hours we stayed up, we could never do it all. We looked at each other and laughed, knowing a great part of the fun of this trip had been the anticipation and the planning. We actually did the most important things to us in Berlin; we visited “The East” freely. We visited the repaired and restored Reichstag. We saw Checkpoint Charlie, only a relic now, signifying nothing to fear. You can breathe in an open society. Everyone can breathe.
Our bags had to be in the hall by 0630 to be transferred to the ship, which meant packing them the night before and having what you needed to get through the day to the 1600 boarding. None of us got it really right, but it was a lot of fun.
Breakfast was a rat race, with all the Viking passengers needing to be fed and ready for an 0820 departure. Most of us were on the bus, but others straggled, and one couple didn’t make it at all. They overslept, and I don’t know if they made it onto the second bus or were driven to the boat.
GLIENICKE BRIDGE

We had a lovely guide again, very good, very thorough, Lothar. We toured old neighborhoods in Berlin, on our way to the old corridor from the island of West Berlin towards the West, on our way to Sans Souci, the summer palace of King Fredrick II. Lothar shared with us being a young boy in Berlin, taking trips out to Italy in the summer, going through this corridor, and receiving terrible treatment at the hands of the East Germans. We had a wonderful surprise, a stop a the Glenicke Bridge, the old “Bridge of Spies” where Frances Gary Powers was exchanged for a Soviet Spy, each crossing the bridge to freedom. We got out of the bus and walked across.

Here is where I realized a big mistake. I was planning a walk through Sans Souci Palace, and rather than wear my wonderful but clunky walking shoes, I was wearing my tights – and sandals. It’s a palace, right? To get to the palace, we walked about half a kilometer on ice with a thin coating of snow. My feet were not cold, but my sandals were not good at gripping, and it was slippery. I made it, with feet just a little damp. No big deal, we also walked in the snow once we got to Sans Souci, and I was not the only one who had made a bad call on footwear. We all survived. From this day on, however, I wore my clunky walking shoes, which have miraculously sticky soles.

We had audio phones to guide us through the palace, and AdventureMan and I laughed. We listened to the whole lecture in room 1, but with each room, our attention span got shorter and shorter. The palace is spectacularly decorated – as you will see. Each room has a theme. There are many more rooms – I never saw a kitchen, for example, or a water closet. But the decor was spectacular.













I lived in Germany off and on for many years. As I walked through this sumptuously decorated castle, truly exquisite, I couldn’t help but think how most of the poorest families in the Western World live better than the lords of old. Almost every house now has indoor plumbing and some kind of heat. Those beds, to me, look small, and lumpy. Frederick II who built this little escape hideaway lived a lonely and circumscribed life, with a manipulative, brutal father and heavy expectations on his shoulders. I think of how many people it took to maintain this palace, mostly for one man who entertained little. I think of the lives of those who served him, and wondered what they ate, how they slept at night – the tour did not include the back areas of the palace.

Then on to Cecilianhof, where the Potsdam Conference was held to negotiate the end of World War II. Lothar led the group on a tour outside the building, I walked around the other way, just in need of some quiet and some time by myself. The grounds were covered with snow, snow weighted down the boughs of the trees and coated the bushes – it was beautiful.




The sun came out and gleamed off the snow. It was quiet, so quiet. We had been privileged to visit Cecilianhof with friends many years ago; we have a photo of our son behind the desk where the documents were signed. It was an impossible private visit, only possible because of our friends, and such moments cannot be repeated, only appreciated.

From Cecilianhof we were dropped off in Potsdam, at the Christmas Market. AdventureMan and I went off looking for a place to eat and found it within minutes – a Sicilian restaurant, Assoggi, sunny and bright, where we had amazing food and a delicious white wine, and still had time for a walk through the market before we had to be back on the bus for our drive to board the Beyla in Wittenberg.







Above is planked salmon. We saw it once before, four years ago at the Strasbourg Christmas Market, but rarely since then.
We were glad to board the bus when it showed up. After our wonderful Italian lunch, we were a little chilled by a brisk wind as we looked at the Christmas Market. We were ready to see our ship!

Chilly sunset on the way to Wittenberg.
Waiting for us on board the Beyla:

We were shown to our cabin, we quickly unpacked and headed to the lounge for the Welcome Aboard briefing and directions for the next day.
Our Cruise Director, a soul of amazing patience with the cats she has to herd, introduced us to the crew and staff and filled us in on what to expect on our tour of Wittenberg.
We also learned there would be a mandatory safety drill at 2:30 the next day where we all needed to show up at our designated stations in our life jackets, although the Elbe is a very shallow river and if we were sinking, we could walk to shore, so there were hoots of laughter.
There is a couple we have run into frequently, Don and Janice, and we always have good conversations, so we joined with them for dinner. Don was a cautionary story to us all – his bags did not arrive with him in Berlin. Every day, he would ask and Viking would check, and the bags could not be found. He had one extra set of clothing with him and would wear one set of clothing while each day Viking washed and pressed his other set. He was a great sport about the whole thing, and on the very last day of the trip, he was reunited with his bags.
Dinner on board the Beyla the first night was heaven. Roasted Duck Breast was one of the meals I had most looked forward to while planning this trip. The chef is awesome and did a great job on the duck and the wine reduction. It was a wonderful memorable meal.
We gave the tree-trimming party a pass – long day, once again, and we needed to get to bed.
Berlin: Too Little Time!
We slept well, except for that wide-awake part around 1:30 a.m., but we got back to sleep and then nearly died trying to get up at 7:00 a.m. for a 7:30 breakfast and our morning tour of Berlin. We were so tempted to just skip it, but we didn’t. I know you will ask, looking at these photos, weren’t you cold?
We weren’t! We have lovely heavy coats we bought in Germany years ago, and layers of clothing underneath that keep us warm and toasty, even when lost in a snowy park.
Lovely breakfast buffet, lots of healthy options, only a little skimpy on the coffee. It is cold and snowing, but we are dressed for it, and not having any problems.


We have been assigned to the purple bus, which will depart at 0800 and we have been told we must be ready to board at 8. The grey bus will board at 8:30. Gathering in the hotel reception was a lot of fun; the Grand Hyatt has decorators who will transform the hotel into a Christmas wonderland. We got to watch the beginning of the huge poinsettia tree.




Our purple bus left at 8:30, with our guide, Peter, who turned out to be superb. He was knowledgeable and objective, and when he was giving an opinion, he was quick to identify it as opinion, personal experience, or anecdotal information. We started with a drive to the Reichstag and Brandenburg gate, where we had time for a walk and photos.
(Some of these photos are less than clear – I had a real problem focusing the camera when it was snowing. The camera didn’t know where to focus. Many of my best photos were taken with the humble iPhone rather than the usually reliable camera.)






(Above is the Reichstag, which we visited later in the day to climb to the top and peer down into the legislative chambers where elected officials are conducting state business. Below is Brandenburg Gate)

We toured the Kufurstendam, and Checkpoint Charlie, and had a thorough drive through the neighborhoods of the former West Berlin, before returning to our starting point and heading into the former Eastern Zone. Peter outlined the post WWII history of Berlin, the building of the wall, and the fall of the Wall. He has personally met and guided several US Presidents and rock musicians (he was most delighted with the musicians). It was an amazing four hours that passed quickly.
















We ended with an hour at Beberplatz, where there is a Christmas Market moved from the famous Gendermanplatz because there is some kind of restoration going on there. Beberplatz is also the site of the Nazi book-burning, and a memorial of that horror, library shelves empty of books. Horrors!









We always needed to have a 50-cent coin or a 1 Euro coin to use for the bathrooms, something we never think of in the USA. The pay WCs were always immaculate, and heated!
Back at the hotel, we grabbed a quick Syrian meal at the food court at the nearby mall, which was a hangout for young people, and great for people watching.


We tried without success to withdraw money from three ATMs and were horrified to be told there was a “system problem.”
Back in our room, we were preparing for our visit to the Reichstag, The German equivalent of our US Congress, when we got a message from our bank asking us to contact their fraud department. After a lengthy confirmation process, we were cleared for ATM withdrawals after 24 hours, and just had time to hop in a taxi to get to the Reichstag in time for our appointment.

Visiting the Reichstag was a thrill. We weren’t sure we would get in. We had a letter saying we would be vetted, but we didn’t have a confirmation letter. They scowled at us disapprovingly and then – a miracle! They found our names on the list of people who were permitted! Wooo HOOO! We were escorted to the building, and to the top level of the Reichstag proper, then climbed around and around to the very top.










We could see outside some of the windows in the climb but due to all the snow, many of the windows were totally blocked. We could look down and watch their congressional delegates doing business in the chamber. It was more than a metaphor for transparent government; it was a statement of the belief that government in a Democracy is meant to be transparent.

We watched as several groups of Germans visiting from various small towns and cities met with their congressman/woman for photos; it was joyful!

By the time we left, it was dark, but we knew it was only a twenty-minute walk back, and although it was very very cold, it was not snowing heavily and we thought on a major street, what could go wrong?
We got on the wrong major street. Fortunately, about twenty minutes into the walk AdventureMan realized we were not going in the right direction, and we made a correction. Then, using our tired-end-of-the-day judgment, we decided to cut through a park, where we saw rabbits, and statues of moose and buffalo, and realized once again, we had no idea where we were going. Fortunately, Berlin is full of athletes, and we hailed a biker who was very kind and got us to a street where we could quickly get back to our hotel. Whew!
Being lost, at the end of a long day, in a cold snowy park in the middle of a big city was a little scary, but, compared to the thrill of seeing the Reichstag, hiking to the top, seeing the overview of Berlin, and experiencing so much in one day – getting lost was a small thing.
At the end of the day, we had done more than 17,000 steps. My “record” is 20,000 steps, but it was Monument Valley, and my FitBit confused our ride in the bumpy Land Rover down into the valley with real steps and . . . I never bothered to correct it. But THESE 17,000 steps are all mine!
The finished Poinsettia Tree:

This Berlin we visited today is a far cry from the Berlin we once knew, an island surrounded by an arbitrary and authoritarian government with clearly stated intentions of wiping out the taint of democracy at the first opportunity. This is an open, sophisticated city. It is full of restaurants of all nationalities, and people from all nations, who seem to live together in tolerance and peace, and who express a desire to keep it this way. It is almost too much to absorb. Wait – is that a German eagle at the top of the Poinsettia Christmas tree?
We ache. AdventureMan used up all the bath salts, so the desk said they would send more up and we each had a long soak for our aching bodies. We slept well and were fine for the next day.
Christmas Markets on the Elbe: A Magical Journey

“Best Trip EVER!” we have whispered to one another so many times since returning from this trip. When I tell you the details, you might wonder – an airport horror, a fire on board, and not one, but two times boarding flights and having to de-board and later reboard. You will think “how can this be the best trip ever?” but adventures are made of many details, and on this trip, the magic far outshines the disastrous.
Our trip started wonderfully, with our son picking us up and taking us to the airport. This is not a blessing we take for granted, as both he and his wife have busy lives, and we never want to be those parents who feel entitled to inconvenience them. Our flight to Miami was inconsequential.
I have never been through Miami Airport before, but we had taken a look before we left and saw that the tram was out of service due to structural issues in the airport. That’s not good. But carts are coming on a regular basis to transport us the long walk to our international gate, so that sounds good, doesn’t it?
Once you arrive, signs tell you where to wait for the carts. We arrived around six pm so maybe they were all off for dinner. We waited. We waited. And we waited some more.
We have made a conscious decision, at least going to the cruise departure, to carry our baggage with us. After waiting, we decide we have no choice but to walk, so we do. We manage. It wasn’t all that bad. (I will NEVER, if I can help it, fly through Miami again.)
Miami International Airport is crowded. It is also hot, more than 80°F and we are wearing our heavy winter coats. They have adequate signage.
I find it very passenger-unfriendly. It is not beautiful. It is not intuitive. When we get to our gate area, there is a food court with long lines – and few tables. We grab a couple of (actually very good) Cuban sandwiches and go to the seating area to eat. It is awkward, to balance food, water, and baggage. There are passengers surrounding us speaking all kinds of unidentifiable languages. It is an opportunity for a good conversation, but everyone is grumpy and self-absorbed.
Our gate, we discover, is actually downstairs, and (again, counter-intuitive) there are lines to board on both sides of the very large room. You really have to be paying attention to figure this out. There are limited restrooms, and a lot of people, and more coming every minute. This is going to be a very big plane.
OK, so now I will whine. We board. This is a British Airways flight. The crew members are delightful. The business class is AWFUL. It was business class for sardines. It is like an open hostel. The layout is designed to squeeze the maximum number of lie-flat seats in the minimum space. So there are two seats on the outside of each aisle and four seats down the middle. My husband and I traded with a single guy to be together, but to get to restrooms, you have to step over a sleeping person’s legs. These are the skinniest lie-flat seats I have ever been in, and – worst of all – there is NO storage but for the overhead compartment. No place to put your purse! No place for your shoes! No place to hang your coat! No place for a personal item of any kind! And NO PRIVACY!
I know I am in charge of my own attitude, and I am not happy. I decide to skip the meal entirely, not even a glass of wine, and go to sleep. It was the right solution.
Transiting Charles de Gaulle Airport used to be a thorn in our sides, but this time, as we exited our plane, we saw a red-jacketed woman holding a sign with our names on it (!) and her job was to get us through the transit and to the right gate. We had experienced some anxiety about making this transit, and we got a miracle – Brittany knew just where to go and had us to our gate just as our plane started boarding. Thank you, Viking, for anticipating this tight connection and shepherding us through it.

Getting through Charles De Gaulle was a miracle. Now, magic continues to happen as we near Berlin and see the ground covered with snow. The pilot tells us this is not normal for this early in the season, but oh, it IS beautiful!
More magic – because we have our baggage with us, suddenly we sweep right through with our carry-ons and Viking is there to meet us on the other side of the door.
We have received notification that our international plan with Verizon is in place, and we are good to go with calls and messages and data for the trip. It is a little expensive, but every time we travel, we have had an issue of some kind come up, and then, such coverage is priceless. During this trip we had to make calls about a dental emergency and a suspected credit card fraud, so having this plan in place was worth every penny.

It is maybe a half-hour ride to our hotel, the Grand Hyatt, located on the edge of the old East Zone, and central to everything we want to see. We are so excited. We check in, clean up, organize and rest a little, and are ready to hit the streets. Just up the street is a small local Christmas Market, and a brewery with good traditional German food. It is snowing, but not messy snowing, just little flakes that drift and gather and never exceed a couple inches. It is slick. We have to be careful, but it is so much fun.
Making a snowman for our granddaughter:







This is Potsdamer Platz, where locals gather to drink the traditional hot Gluhwein, and eat a hot pretzel, or gingerbread, or a long sausage. Nearby are major transportation hubs for busses and for trams and for trains, and a very large mall, which we did not visit. We found a smaller mall, very near us, where we could use the ATMs, find quick meals, and an outstanding bottle of Saxon white wine, which we took with us on the boat to have in our room 😁.

It’s been a long time – since before COVID – since we have been in Germany, so we decide we would rather eat in a sit-down restaurant nearby, the Paulaner brewery.




My husband has the large beer, I have the dark beer. We no longer drink a lot of beer, but oh my, we enjoy this beer.

I have a Nurnburger sausage and a salad.

My husband has a lot of little sausages, and a lot of potatoes!

This is the small mall near our hotel. The funny thing is, it has a very Arab feel. I would bet it is Arab-owned. There is a food court, and many options are Arab, and other options we have seen in Doha and Kuwait. It makes us feel at home.

Interestingly, we find our hotel is also Arab owned.


The rooftop pool is lovely – and has a killer view out over the city.
The fresh air, the walk, the good German food and beer, and the lovely swim to end the day have given us a great day, and an even better sleep, sleeping all through the night on our first night in Berlin.
“NOOOO! Noooo! Not Guinea!”
I was calm when I started. I believe technologies are a benefit, and we just have to overcome our brief discomfort and steep learning curve and we will master new and useful skills.
Prayer helps.
AdventureMan asked if I had arranged for overseas calling plans while we are on vacation later this month.
“Ummm . . . not yet . . . but I intend to.”
(Rats! Now I have to do it!)
I tried going online, but it’s been years since I chose a password, and I can’t make it work for me, but there is a phone number, so I call it. I know it will be some kind of automated system, but I speak clearly, and I just grit my teeth and know I’ll get through it.
(I don’t.)
The automated system doesn’t seem to understand me. It asks for the countries where I will be traveling, and the dates. I give them. The automated voice gets the dates – even the YEAR! – wrong, and tells me he is setting up an international plan for Guinea.
I hate when this happens, and I especially hate it when AdventureMan is home, because I can hear him laughing from his office as I scream “NOOOOO!NOOOOO! NOT GUINEA! I WANT TO TALK TO A REAL PERSON! REAL PERSON!” The artificial intelligence totally misunderstands, wants me to confirm my upcoming trip to Guinea (NOOOOOOO!!) and finally I find the magic words “LIVE AGENT” and after 53 minutes with a live agent, Ken, (who I believe is in the Philippines and wants me to adopt him) sets AdventureMan and I up with a plan for both our phones.
When all is confirmed, I can see AdventureMan’s plan, but mine never shows up, necessitating a trip to the Verizon office where they are able to confirm that THEY an see plans on both lines, even if I can’t. And this time, for the right countries.
Or so I believe.
EUPHROSYNE/SMARAGDUS OF ALEXANDRIA
MONASTIC, 5TH c.
The prayer in today’s Lectionary is dear to my heart:
PRAYER (contemporary language)
Merciful God, who looks not with outward eyes but discerns the heart of each: we confess that those whom we love the most are often strangers to us. Give to all parents and children, we pray, the grace to see one another as they truly are and as you have called them to be. All this we ask in the name of Jesus Christ, our only mediator and advocate. Amen.
Saint Euphrosyne of Alexandria (fl. 5th century CE) was a female saint who adopted male attire and lived at a local monastery as an ascetic.
Euphrosyne was the beloved only daughter of Paphnutius, a rich man of Alexandria, miraculously born in her parents’ old age in answer to a monk’s prayer. Her loving father desired to marry her to a wealthy youth.
But having already consecrated her life to God and under pressure to break her vow, she dressed as a man and assumed the identity of “Smaragdus” (“emerald”). She then escaped to a nearby men’s monastery, where she made rapid strides toward a perfected ascetic life. She was under the guidance of the abbot, who also happened to be the same monk who had prayed for her birth.
Years later, when Paphnutius appealed to the abbot for comfort in his bereavement, the abbot committed him to the care of Euphrosyne, still under the guise of Smaragdus. Paphnutius received from his own daughter, whom he had failed to recognize, helpful advice and comforting exhortation. Not until she was dying did Euphrosyne reveal herself to him as his lost daughter. After burying her, Paphnutius gave up all his worldly goods, and became a monk in the same monastery. There, he used his daughter’s old cell until his own death ten years after.
from Wikipedia

More Than 500 Mass Shootings in USA 2023
This week I needed to make a trip to WalMart. For the first time, I asked AdventureMan to go with me. I felt unsafe, going to WalMart. Pensacola is rife with emotionally unregulated people carrying guns. Florida is worse. Do gun “rats” enthusiasts not realize that most gun deaths are people shooting people in their own families or social circles, or shooting themselves? The mass shootings below are just the tip of the iceburg.
This is from Axios:
U.S. surpasses 500 mass shootings in 2023


Share on email (opens in new window)https://datawrapper.dwcdn.net/oLfvX/Data: Gun Violence Archive; Note: Includes incidents where at least four people were shot or killed, excluding the shooter; Chart: Simran Parwani/Axios
There have now been 501 mass shootings in the U.S. this year.
Driving the news: A shooting that wounded four people in Denver, Colorado, on Saturday night marked the country’s 500th mass shooting in 2023, according to the Gun Violence Archive.
- Hours later, that increased to 501 mass shootings after one person died and five others were wounded in El Paso, Texas, early Sunday.
By the numbers: Just five years ago, the country had never experienced 500 mass shootings in one year:
- 2018: 335 mass shootings
- 2019: 414 mass shootings
- 2020: 610 mass shootings
- 2021: 689 mass shootings
- 2022: 645 mass shootings
Flashback: The 500 mass shootings threshold was crossed in September in the past two years, according to the archive.
- In 2020, it occurred in October.
Between the lines: The FBI does not define or quantify what constitutes a mass shooting.
- Gun Violence Archive, an independent research and data collection organization, defines a mass shooting as a shooting in which four or more people were shot or killed, not including the shooter. This makes its numbers higher than some other sources with varying definitions.
Of note: A January shooting on the eve of Lunar New Year in Monterey Park, California, a largely Asian American area, has caused the most deaths so far in 2023. Eleven people were killed and nine others injured in the massacre.
- The most injuries related to gun violence occurred in April at a birthday party shooting in Dadeville, Ala., that left four people dead and 32 others injured.
The big picture: With increasing personal experiences, more Americans view gun violence as a public health concern.
- One in six Americans have personally witnessed someone being shot, according to survey data from earlier this year.
Zoom in: Gun violence has greatly affected children. Firearms are the top killer of kids in the country.
- Gun deaths among children hit a record high in 2021, per data released in August.
- There were 305 school shootings in 2022 and 230 by Sept. 5 in 2023, according to the K-12 School Shooting Database.
Go deeper: Gun deaths among U.S. children hit a new record high
And Just Like That . . .

And just like that, the temperatures have dropped and I feel like a different person. I joke about being Alaska girl, unable to handle the high temperatures, but the truth is, it is the truth. I have adapted by doing everything I really need to do early in the morning and mostly staying in air-conditioned locations – my car, a restaurant, a well-cooled grocery store, my house – when the temperatures go above 80 something F.
Yesterday, we tried a food truck our son had recommended, The Brown Bagger at Alga Beer (2435 N 12th Ave Pensacola ) for smash burgers. That place was hoppin’! I had the Hoppin Jack, a burger with jack cheese and jalapenos, with a side of brussel sprouts (Brussel sprouts!) and for the first time in months, we sat at a table outside and ate in comfort. While the burger was delicious, it was too much meat for me, and I loved the brussel sprouts, which I think were deep-fried. Does that take away the nutritional virtue of eating Brussel sprouts?
Getting up in the morning to cooler temperatures just makes me happy, it makes my day start right. I was wondering if climate change was going to make the hot mornings drag on into October, or November. The breath of coolness as I do my morning steps gave me hope that the winter season is truly coming.
It’s a Matter of Taste
“Would you like a biscotti?” AdventureMan says as he pops by my workshop, checking in.
“Np, but thanks,” I usually respond – I am less vulnerable to sweet than to salty, although neither are good for me, a diabetic. Even some fruits you would think are healthy are too sweet for me in more than a small amount, showing up in the blood sugar count the next day. I am careful.
But salty – oh bring it on. Chicken Chongqing, anchovies, popcorn, pretzles – those, too, I can eat in moderation, and have a harder time resisting.
So this morning, I found this wonderful article on scientists finding that we perceive salty in two different ways, at least, “salt!” and “too much salt!” It’s long, but fascinating.
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Salt taste is surprisingly mysterious
Too much sodium is bad, but so is too little — no wonder the body has two sensing mechanisms
By Amber Dance
9.13.2023
Salt taste is surprisingly mysterious
Too much sodium is bad, but so is too little — no wonder the body has two sensing mechanisms
By Amber Dance 09.13.2023
We’ve all heard of the five tastes our tongues can detect — sweet, sour, bitter, savory-umami and salty. But the real number is actually six, because we have two separate salt-taste systems. One of them detects the attractive, relatively low levels of salt that make potato chips taste delicious. The other one registers high levels of salt — enough to make overly salted food offensive and deter overconsumption.

Matching meals to metabolism
Exactly how our taste buds sense the two kinds of saltiness is a mystery that’s taken some 40 years of scientific inquiry to unravel, and researchers haven’t solved all the details yet. In fact, the more they look at salt sensation, the weirder it gets.
Many other details of taste have been worked out over the past 25 years. For sweet, bitter and umami, it’s known that molecular receptors on certain taste bud cells recognize the food molecules and, when activated, kick off a series of events that ultimately sends signals to the brain.
Sour is slightly different: It is detected by taste bud cells that respond to acidity, researchers recently learned.
In the case of salt, scientists understand many details about the low-salt receptor, but a complete description of the high-salt receptor has lagged, as has an understanding of which taste bud cells host each detector.
“There are a lot of gaps still in our knowledge — especially salt taste. I would call it one of the biggest gaps,” says Maik Behrens, a taste researcher at the Leibniz Institute for Food Systems Biology in Freising, Germany. “There are always missing pieces in the puzzle.”
A fine balance
Our dual perception of saltiness helps us to walk a tightrope between the two faces of sodium, an element that’s crucial for the function of muscles and nerves but dangerous in high quantities. To tightly control salt levels, the body manages the amount of sodium it lets out in urine, and controls how much comes in through the mouth.
“It’s the Goldilocks principle,” says Stephen Roper, a neuroscientist at the University of Miami Miller School of Medicine in Florida. “You don’t want too much; you don’t want too little; you want just the right amount.”

If an animal takes in too much salt, the body tries to compensate, holding on to water so the blood won’t be overly salty. In many people, that extra fluid volume raises blood pressure. The excess fluid puts strain on the arteries; over time, it can damage them and create the conditions for heart disease or stroke.
But some salt is necessary for body systems, for example to transmit electrical signals that underlie thoughts and sensations. Consequences of too little salt include muscle cramps and nausea — that’s why athletes chug Gatorade to replace the salt lost in sweat — and, if enough time passes, shock or death.
Scientists in search of salt taste receptors already knew that our bodies have special proteins that act as channels to allow sodium to cross nerve membranes for the purpose of sending nerve impulses. But the cells in our mouth, they reasoned, must have some additional, special way to respond to sodium in food.
A key clue to the mechanism came in the 1980s, when scientists experimented with a drug that prevents sodium from entering kidney cells. This drug, when applied to rats’ tongues, impeded their ability to detect salty stimuli. Kidney cells, it turns out, use a molecule called ENaC (pronounced “ee-nack”) to suck extra sodium from blood and help maintain proper blood salt levels. The finding suggested that salt-sensing taste bud cells used ENaC too.
To prove it, scientists engineered mice to lack the ENaC channel in their taste buds. These mice lost their normal preference for mildly salty solutions, the scientists reported in 2010 — confirming that ENaC was, indeed, the good-salt receptor.

So far, so good. But to truly understand how the good-salt taste worked, scientists would also need to know how the entry of sodium into taste buds is translated into a “Yum, salty!” sensation. “It’s what gets sent to the brain that’s important,” says Nick Ryba, a neuroscientist at the National Institute of Dental and Craniofacial Research in Bethesda, Maryland, who was involved in linking ENaC to salt taste.
And to understand that signal transmission, scientists needed to find where in the mouth the signal started.
The answer might seem obvious: The signal would start from the specific set of taste bud cells that contain ENaC and that are sensitive to tasty levels of sodium. But those cells didn’t prove simple to find. ENaC, it turns out, is made up of three different pieces, and although individual pieces are found in various places in the mouth scientists had a hard time finding cells containing all three.
In 2020, a team led by physiologist Akiyuki Taruno at the Kyoto Prefectural University of Medicine in Japan reported that they had identified the sodium-taste cells at last. The researchers started with the assumption that sodium-sensing cells would spark an electrical signal when salt was present, but not if the EnaC blocker was there too. They found just such a population of cells inside taste buds isolated from the middle of mouse tongues, and these turned out to make all three components of the ENaC sodium channel.
Scientists can thus now describe where and how animals perceive desirable levels of salt. When there are enough sodium ions outside those key taste bud cells in the mid-tongue area, the ions can enter these cells using the three-part ENaC gateway. This rebalances the sodium concentrations inside and outside the cells. But it also redistributes the levels of positive and negative charges across the cell’s membrane. This change activates an electrical signal inside the cell. The taste bud cell then sends the “Mmmm, salty!” message onward to the brain.

Too salty!
But this system doesn’t explain the “Blech, too much salt!” signal that people also can get, usually when we taste something that’s more than twice as salty as our blood. Here, the story is less clear.
The other component of salt — chloride — might be key, some studies suggest. Recall that salt’s chemical structure is sodium chloride, though when dissolved in water it separates into positively charged sodium ions and negatively charged chloride ions. Sodium chloride creates the saltiest high-salt sensation, while sodium paired with larger, multi-atom partners tastes less salty. This suggests that sodium’s partner might be an important contributor to the high-salt sensation, with some partners tasting saltier than others. But as to exactly how chloride might cause high-salt taste, “Nobody has a clue,” says Roper.
One hint came from work by Ryba and colleagues with an ingredient of mustard oil: In 2013, they reported that this component reduced the high-salt signal in mouse tongues. Weirdly, the same mustard-oil compound also nearly eliminated the tongue’s response to bitter taste, as if the high-salt-sensing system was piggybacking onto the bitter-tasting system.
And it got odder still: Sour-taste cells seemed to respond to high salt levels, too. Mice lacking one or the other of the bitter- or sour-taste systems were less put off by extremely salty water, while those lacking both happily slurped down the salty stuff.
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Not all scientists are convinced, but the findings, if confirmed, raise an interesting question: Why don’t super-salty things taste bitter and sour too? It could be because the too-salty taste is the sum of multiple signals, not just one input, says Michael Gordon, a neuroscientist at the University of British Columbia in Vancouver, who coauthored, with Taruno, a discussion of the knowns and unknowns of salt taste in the 2023 Annual Review of Physiology.
Despite the mustard oil lead, attempts to find the receptor molecule responsible for the high-salt taste sensation have so far been inconclusive. In 2021, a Japanese team reported that cells containing TMC4 — a molecular channel that lets chloride ions into cells — generated signals when exposed to high levels of salt in lab dishes. But when the researchers engineered mice without the TMC4 channel anywhere in their bodies, it didn’t make much difference to their aversion to extremely salty water. “There’s no definitive answer at this point,” Gordon says.
As a further complication, there’s no way to be sure that mice perceive salty tastes in exactly the same way that people do. “Our knowledge of salt taste in humans is actually quite limited,” says Gordon. People can certainly distinguish desirable, lower-salt levels from the foul, high-salt sensation, and the same ENaC receptor used by mice seems to be involved. But studies with the ENaC sodium channel blocker in people vary confusingly, sometimes seeming to diminish salt taste but other times to enhance it.
A possible explanation is the fact that people have a fourth, extra piece of ENaC, called the delta subunit, that rodents lack. It can take the place of one of the other pieces, perhaps making a version of the channel that is less sensitive to the ENaC blocker.
Forty years into investigations of salt taste, researchers are still left with questions about how people’s tongues perceive salt and how the brain sorts those sensations into “just right” versus “too much” amounts. At stake is more than just satisfying a scientific curiosity: Given the cardiovascular risks that a high-salt diet poses to some of us, it’s important to understand the process.
Researchers even dream of developing better salt alternatives or enhancers that would create the “yum” without the health risks. But it’s clear they have more work to do before they invent something we can sprinkle on our dinner plates with abandon, free of health worries.
10.1146/knowable-091223-2
Amber Dance, a science journalist in the Los Angeles area, enjoys experimenting with her collection of fancy finishing salts.

