Så är den vanliga vardagen här. Det är måndagsmorgon med müslin kvar mellan tänderna och mjuka brallor och omaka strumpor. Så kan man ha det den dagen man arbetar hemifrån. Jag sitter med Outlook framför mig och jag har markerat de tre närmsta veckorna så att de syns samtidigt på ett och samma uppslag. Det är de tre veckorna jag har kvar att arbeta innan jul och helger. Jag har sökt och fått en jättelång ledighet, 23 dagar utan arbete. Det känns… wow!

Bilder jag tog för några veckor sedan. Mio på promenad.

Vi har under gårdagen fördubblat adventsljusstakeinnehavet och gått från en till två, vi har ätit julskinka med rödkål och druckit en sämre saftglögg. Min vision om hur utebelysningen skulle överglänsa grannarnas har fått stå tillbaka lite för verkligheten. Men det lyser där ute i alla fall. Eftersom grannarna inte på länge sagt något om vår gigantiska ramp vid entrén så har vi beslutat att inte låta klä in hela härligheten i färgglatt blinkande slingor med åtta olika program. (Det har tidigare framkommit att den enligt utomstående men närboende skulle vara FUL! Vi som har den där bara för att den är så e-s-t-e-t-i-s-k… Sånt kan trigga mig att straffa dem.).

Mio med ögonen. De fina, blåa.

Jag medverkar i ungdomsprogrammet Ramp ikväll i svt2 kl 19.30. Jag berättar om mobbing under skoltiden. Inslaget kommer 20 min in i programmet som senare kommer att finnas på webben  svt Play.

Da jeg kom hjem i dag møtte en særdeles fornøyd Casper meg ved hageporten. Jeg syntes det var litt rart, fordi jeg trodde jeg var førstemann hjem, og han hadde ikke på seg halsbånd, pluss at alle i huset fikk med seg at han krøp under gjerdet i dag. Derfor pleier de å vente med å slippe ham ut til jeg kommer. Da jeg ser at alle vinduene er mørke, blir jeg litt mistenksom, og når døren i tillegg står på vidt gap begynner jeg virkelig å lure. Går inn i gangen, og der ser jeg at han har prøvd å komme seg ut av kjøkkendøren, men den har vi krok på så den var fortsatt lukket. Men stuedøren derimot sto på vidt gap. Jeg ropte for å høre om noen var hjemme, men ingen svarer. Ringer så til den som dro sist, men han hadde ikke vært hjemme nei, og han var ganske sikker på at han hadde låst døren.

Casper pleier å være på kjøkkenet når han er alene, og der er det to dører. Den ene er det krok på, mens den andre har vi ikke det på, pluss at den vender utover. Så vi pleier å sette et tørkestativ foran (han hater lyden, og har veldig respekt for det). Men det har han tydeligvis trosset i dag, pluss at han har dyttet opp skyvedøren, stuedøren, og låst opp ytterdøren selv. (motsatt av den gangen han låste seg inne og jeg måtte ringe brannvesenet)… jeg er glad porten var lukket i dag jeg, pleier egentlig å la den stå oppe. Eller dvs. jeg lukker den ofte fordi jeg har tvangstanker om at han klarer å forsere alle hindringer å komme seg ut (som andre har ledd av, nå får de høre ) og det klarte han faktisk i dag…

Syntes han så litt rund ut i magen et øyeblikk der, for kom på at fôrsekken står på vidt gap, samt masse godis ute i gangen. Men heldigvis var det urørt. Mulig det ikke var så lenge siden han hadde brutt seg ut heller.
Og jeg som pakket ned buret fordi han var så flink Det kommer nok ikke opp igjen, men må nok fikse krok på alle dører, samt en krok på ytterdøren også.

Søt da, er jo ganske sjarmerende med en slik smartass. <3

Today, we celebrate Thanksgiving.  Thanksgiving- a holiday which we’re told was initially celebrated by the Pilgrims and the Indians to give thanks for bountiful harvests.  Today, Thanksgiving is typically a celebration with friends and family where we stuff ourselves full of turkey and other delicious food till we’re in a food coma.  Damn that tryptophan.  Those still awake watch football or plan where they’re going for the Black Friday deals.

Over the last few days, I’ve been contemplating and reflecting over the things that I am thankful for this year.  Some times sarcasm creeps– what can you be thankful for when your world is turned upside down and you’ve lived through the darkest, loneliest, saddest times you’ve ever been through.  I’ve then given myself a mental pep talk.  After several days of  thinking, I’ve found some light in the darkness.

Basically 2009 has just plain sucked since February.  Life was so good before February- I had a husband whom I loved dearly and we were such a happy family with our new son.  Everybody was healthy.  Life was good.

Then along came February and the stage IV diagnosis, followed by our fight and culminating in our lost battle.

But through it all there are things to be thankful for.

Nathaniel.  I have a wonderful easy going delightful son.  He is a pleasure to be around and his growth and development is nothing short of amazing to witness.

John got to be a father and he was a great one.  Some men never have the opportunity to become fathers.  Of the ones that do, not all of them are great.  John enjoyed fatherhood as much as he physically could through his illness.  Mentally it gave him a reason to fight and a reason to live that stretched beyond self.  John loved his boy so much.  He told me that Nathaniel’s laughter was his most favorite sound.

I had a great marriage and was married to a wonderful man.  I’ve been able to experience true love.  There are lots of people who can’t say that.  I have enough wonderful memories to hopefully last a lifetime.

John’s illness has taught me to stand up for what is right and to fight for those you love and to pick up the pieces and carry on.  The Mary of years past, wouldn’t have stood up to the well known and credentialed doctor and told him that we weren’t done fighting and if he was, then he could be forever referred to by name as “the doctor that gave up on daddy and the doctor who let daddy die.”  The doctors and nurses have other patients and rooms to visit.  The patient has one life.  Sometimes you have to stand up for those you love and insist on the best treatment for your loved one.  In the end maybe the outcome isn’t the most important thing, but rather how you life the life you have and the memories that you leave.  We’ve all been born and we’ll all die… really it’s the parts in the middle that we need to really make count!

John’s death has left me with a hole in my heart- grief, heartache, and loneliness like nothing else I’ve ever experienced.  But, I’m getting through it… not over it, but through it.  Some days are like walking through a nice grassy meadow with the sun warmly shining.  Others are like fighting my way through thick mud and slipping, sliding, falling, and getting up and pushing on.  The sun rises.  The sun sets.  Life goes on.  If I choose to live life or not, it still continues- better to enjoy it while I can.  Nathaniel, the horses, and the cats have kept me going.  They all need me and they all love me.  I’m working or re-building my life.  It won’t ever be the same or the happy home and strong fortress that it was with the three of us, but we’re making it.  It’s not always easy, it’s not always pretty, and it certainly isn’t always clean, but we’re making it…. one day at a time.  Life goes on.  We never know how short or long our life will be.  To me it only makes sense to enjoy it to it’s fullest and be happy as best you can.

For some reason, John’s death has chilled me out more and I don’t usually get upset over the little stuff.  In the end, the little things don’t matter.  It’s the big picture.  I just want to relax and enjoy simple pleasures- hug my kid, ride my horses, take a walk, pet the critters, and just enjoy life.  I’m very fortunate that I can do all of those things without even leaving Leaky Creek!  I love my farm, my house, my horses, my cats, and my son.  I truly feel like there is something else out there beyond our realm.  I do think that John has given me signs.  It’s reassuring and gives me an inner peace that I need.  Attending church has been helpful.  I used to fear dying terribly.  After I held John’s hand as he died, my fear left.  Someday, I’m sure we’ll be together again… as long as he doesn’t hook up with some hot angel in the meantime…

Annapolis Fire Department.  They were absolutely amazing during John’s illness and they (along with Community Fire Company of Rising Sun) made his funeral a fitting tribute to a wonderful man and amazing firefighter.  AFD did so many wonderful things that I know I can’t mention all of them.  They covered John’s shifts, so he received full pay.  They allowed him to retire on disability.  They came to visit him in the hospital and were there for his 2nd round of IL2 treatments at 6 AM & 10 PM.  They transformed our half bath into full bath with a shower that John could use.  Sometimes when you’re sick… the ability to get clean just means so much.  Sadly, John was only able to use his shower a few times, but it was very much appreciated!    AFD built a ramp, so we could get the wheelchair in and out easily.  They mowed our grass and did assorted maintenance jobs.  They went with us to many doctor’s visits so I didn’t have to worry about driving on little sleep or in unpredictable traffic.  They sent meals.  They held a fundraiser in Annapolis.  They participated in Team Smitty for the LiveStrong Challenge.  In, short, they took care of their brother.  John truly worked for a topnotch organization.  He loved working there and they loved him, too.  I miss them.

I’m thankful to the wonderful medical personnel that we encountered… from the friendly, familiar faces on the ambulance, to the caring hospital nurses, to our beloved home health nurses, and every smiling caring face in between.

I am thankful to the friends and family who have supported us and were there for John, Nathaniel, and myself.  During times of crisis, you find out who your true friends are.  Sometimes they are who you think they are… sometimes they’re different people.  I  have been very fortunate that no matter how alone I feel, I am not without friends to support me.  Some friendships have strengthened and I’ve even found new friends.  A simple phone call can make all the difference in the world.  Many people have also helped me out with everything from mowing grass, to checking car brakes, to babysitting, to installing ceiling fans, to watching Nathaniel while I got some equine therapy… and just being there when I needed to talk, needed a hug, or needed a shoulder to cry on.  This Thanksgiving, I’ve received so many invitations- thanks to everybody who thought about my boy and me and knew that we might not have a place to go.

I also have the world’s best babysitter.  I can’t tell you how amazing she has been with my son and how much I enjoy and value her friendship.  We’ve known each other since elementary school, but had lost touch through the years.  Facebook re-united us and I consider her to be one of my best friends, now.  We share conversations, hugs, and tears.  There is nothing like having the piece of mind that my son is being cared for as if her were part of her family.  Nathaniel helped carve his first pumpkin and made his first art project with them.  Her daughter is like a sister to him.  Nathaniel adores her husband and I think it is important for Nathaniel to  have a good male role model in his life.  I can go to work and have no concerns and no worries… to quote the credit card commercials.. “Peace of mind– priceless.”   I know John would approve.

I also hope that I can do some things in memory of John to help fight melanoma and fight cancer.  I don’t want his death to be in vain.  Skin cancer can kill.  We need more melanoma awareness and much, much more research.  I’d love to do a memorial bike ride, since he loved to cycle.

So, even in what has been the worst year in my 34 year life, there are things to be thankful for.  Happy Thanksgiving everybody.  Hug your spouse.  Hug your kid(s).  Pet the critters.  Eat up and watch some football.  And if you get a chance before the food coma sets in take at least a brief moment to remember what you’re thankful for.

Artist: Ramp
Title: Money Dont Make Me
Label: Party Shock
Genre: Hardstyle
Store Date: 24.11.2009
Source: Vinyl
# Tracks: 3
# Vinyls: 1
Lenght: 17:54
Quality: 320 kbps
Channels: Joint Stereo / 44 khz
Nonstop mix: no
*.cue: no
Archive size: 42,2 MB
Recovery record: no

Tracklist:
A1. Money Dont Make Me (Gia Remix) [5:14]
B1. Money Dont Make Me (Vortex Remix) [6:03]
B2. Money Dont Make Me (Original Mix) [6:37]

Download

10lbs, 12 workouts, 20 days…solid effort…

Congrats Mann!  You are now the second trainee to graduate from the on ramp beginner’s program.  Time to get into the real work, hahahaha!

Mann’s Workout (On ramp #12 of 12, thx to Nikki from CrossFit Norcal for the program!  www.crossfitnorcal.com)

Buy in:
Short CFWU (CrossFit WarmUp), then row for 10 minutes at an easy pace

WOD:
Run 400m
15 Squats
12 Pushups
9 Body Rows
Run 400m

Mann’s time on day 1 = 6:54
Mann’s time today = 6:02

Cash out:
Work up to heavy TGUs (Turkish get ups)

Not sure of the connection here but the pictures are plenty rad!

Just to get you guys pumped for this winter, here’s a very nice ad featuring Heath Frisby. From what I understand, this is supposed to be a banner for a short movie that will promote the event. I’ll keep you inform about that as soon as I have more informations!

Pardon the dated reference, but EveryZing is the P. Diddy of the online video world, as the company announced today that it is changing its name to RAMP. The company was originally known as Podzinger, but changed its moniker to EveryZing, and then must have realized what a horrible, horrible name that was and changed it to RAMP today to align itself with its RAMP content optimization product.

RAMP was initially spun out of military research firm BBN Technologies as a speech-to-text podcast search engine. The company has since expanded its product to enable media publishers to make content discoverable and optimized through parsing of data from video, text, audio and images.

RAMP (the company) has raised $22 million in funding from investors like NBC (s GE), which is also a customer. Other clients include FOX (s NWSA) properties FOXNews.com, FOXBusiness.com and FOXSports.com.

When the Lord designed me, he clearly forgot an important Gene: Fear. My greatest personal challenge in life the past few years has been coping with its late arrival in my DNA make-up. I was always Fearless as a child. To say that I never endured situations where I should have rationally been Fearful is a lie. I am a survivor; I have been through things so painful I will never discuss them again in this lifetime, with anyone. I just cannot recall ever feeling Fear, or making decisions based upon its effects. This lack of the Fear Gene is probably the genetic difference which stood between me and almost every other woman on earth, as far as a dirt bike is concerned. I looked at a dirt bike from day one as a machine to be conquered. When I was 16 years old, a good friend of ours died in my brother’s arms from a Jet Ski accident at Havasu. A tragedy I will never forget. I was never ignorant of the fact that I was risking my life by getting on a dirt bike, I just never allowed that consequence to enter my thought process; I simply wanted to ride. I wanted to become an Expert, not just on riding but on the bike’s engine too. I wanted to conquer the sport and open it up as a doorway to other women. I knew that if I allowed a man to do the work for me, or pick the bike up off of me every time, I would never get there. With this spirit, I set out to conquer this sport with no assistance from anyone! There were times that I stood in the garage tossing tools in frustration. Or stood in the desert, dehydrated and exhausted, kicking my bike until I was literally vomiting. I built my body during those years into such excellent shape that I could easily lift my 265 pound bike off of me (my enduro, DRZ250,) were I to get pinned underneath it, (which happens when you crash) and something I never dreamt I would be strong enough to do when I started.

With this in mind, I didn’t just get on a bike, put on a cute outfit and ride around. My bike was entirely my own. My rule, no one worked on it but me. No one touched it. To ride professionally, you must understand that allowing someone to make the slightest modifications to your bike can get you seriously hurt. You and your bike become one instrument. The dirt bike has to become an extension of yourself and only you must know what it is capable of getting you through. Thus, I did all of the repairs, all of the maintenance, I changed my own oil and lubed my air filters myself. I installed the expensive FMF pipe I saved up for. I changed out the plastics. When my dream finally did come true in 2003 of owning a real race bike, my CR125 (my 4th dirt bike out of 5,) I did the work. I managed within 6 months of owning her to blow the entire top-end after participating in drag races in the sand dunes. I knew I could really injure the bike, but I had oiled her down and I needed the practice competing. I didn’t expect to damage her that severely though. Months later, I put that bike through hell practicing all day Saturday and Sunday on the motocross tracks in Denver. (The bike did have to be professionally adjusted to account for the altitude change.) One day lapping on the track, the entire Top End blew. UTBH ordered me the manual online and found me a place to hone the cylinder myself. In our garage, I sat there and rebuilt my top end from scratch.

Later, I will detail the purchase of my 1st bike and the subsequent bikes I was given to ride. Right now, I have a CRF250X sitting lonely in my garage. This is a bike that my father purchased for me in 2006 for us to share. (He felt really bad that I was moping around for 2 years over the tragic loss of my CR125. But he couldn’t handle riding a race bike, so we compromised.) My final week in Denver, I crashed very hard on the motocross track, breaking 3 ribs and smashing my right hand. I went off a jump and landed in a patch of snow at the bottom; didn’t even see it there. (Snow is slippery and although the track was open, it is a huge hazard to avoid. http://www.watkinsmotocross.com/index.htm) Ironically, I had always refused to wear a chest protector, even on the track.  I felt it inhibited my performance on tight turns, etc.  The 1st time I ever put one on assisted in breaking my ribs….Then, for the next few years as a student, I couldn’t afford health insurance. The decision was made that I had to give up riding because I simply couldn’t afford any more Cat Scans. After graduation, my father purchased the bike with the intention that I would get back out there and train. The challenge remains that I sold my truck, I own a sports car. I don’t have my own transportation. I am rusty as anything and I would need someone who had an entire day free to devote to me getting re-acclimated with my new bike. (I have ridden my CRF only 2 times in 3 years.) Lastly, going off into the middle of the desert with someone is not to be taken lightly. Many of the guys who have offered to take me out I just don’t feel comfortable enough with to do it. There has to be a degree of trust there. Thus, until I am rescued by a Prince Charming, with a truck or trailer, who can load my dirt bike (the one thing I cannot do without dropping it off the side of the truck – trust me it has happened and hurt,) and spend time with me in the desert, then I am destined to never ride again. A true loss to the motocross world

Free BMX Ramp
Free BMX Ramp

Free BMX Ramp Game
BMX Ramp Game Description : It’s time to get on your bike and head down to the BMX Ramp to show off your biking skills. Ride your bike, gain acceleration and perform stunts on your bike while in the air. The more difficult the stunt the more points you will earn.
How to Play BMX Ramp Game? Up Arrow Key – Accelerate.
Down Arrow Key – Side Flip / Jump Turn.
Left / Right Arrow Key – Front / Back Flip.
A, S, D – Tricks.

Kate Moross
mélange formes géométriques, typographie, couleurs acidulées…

+ Zomby, Helter Skelter

[katemoross.com / Helter Skelter via fader]

So I can’t seem to get the MoveSmart™ concept out of my head. Wow! Wouldn’t the visionary that was responsible for bringing this to the Ramp be proud to know that he (or she) has embedded this seed so deeply in my brain that I automatically reflect on it, for example, when working inside an Airbus, using my power fingers to iron out the knife-edged sheet metal that is trying hard to slice through my kneepad and turn my leg inside out.

And so I mulled this over as I was loading up the front of a Scarebus A319 today with mail and palleted freight (remember the old days when we were prohibited from placing pallets of freight on narrow-body aircraft? Or was that just a dream?). While the metal edge levitated higher and higher under the weight of the pallet, I said to myself, “Self, you ought to get a mechanic out here to ‘repair’ this dangerous condition”; unfortunately, I promptly forgot about that as I narrowly escaped falling out of the gaping door as I swung around to ‘finesse’ a 200 lb large wooden crate around the other two pallets. I silently  recalled last week’s “safety class” in which the teacher (our very own union safety rep) recounted the horror story of our most recent work-related tragedy. If I have the story correct, one of our own recently fell to his death out of an aircraft door while manual-loading a wide-body with a belt loader.

But I digress. What I spent the rest of the time thinking about, was another scenario in which my MoveSmart™ training was of absolutely no use: Prior to loading the freight, I loaded about 1000 lbs of mail into pit 3. In order to accommodate the planned mail, I had to stack it neatly. To stack it neatly, I had to position myself between the belt loader and the bulkhead, just far enough away from each that with every cycle of transferring the mail from belt to stack, the load was cantilevered away from my body, in direct conflict with MoveSmart™ principles. Multiply that by about a gazillion, and you have the typical (work)life cycle of a ramp service person.

I am now convinced more than ever that MoveSmart™ training was a complete waste of resources, and I guess I keep returning to it because it’s symptomatic of misguided decision-makers comprising our company as a hole (ahem, whole), from the top down.

On the other hand, MoveSmart™ has inspired me to develop some new learning modules that I think I’ll call “ThinkSmart™”. Well, actually, I got really inspired when, right after dispatching that piece-of-shit 319, I ran into a crew who had just taken a 1-minute delay.

Long story short: the crew was off the plane at minus 05 minutes, and the push-back driver had an issue with his communications headset, deeming it necessary to use hand signals for dispatch. He notified the pilot, who then called for clearance, which was not issued until +01 minutes. The Lead was left having to justify to the Controller the reason for the delay. But because that person had not participated in ThinkSmart™ and had never participated in ramp operations, she could not get it around her head that this set of circumstances could cause a delay. Judgement: “Ramp Delay”.

As a result of this nonsense, I think I’ve come up with an idea for my first “ThinkSmart” module, “Beano”, which will focus on getting “Bean Counters” to play in our real-world sandbox. Something tells me they won’t like the smell of that real world. But more on that later.

Well, I found myself in a surprising dilemma today. There was a rumor circulating around the ramp, as happens every now and then (like every day), that a person in management was retaliating against me and an associate for claiming “late lunches” and for taking a delay on their watch.

Now, as many of you know, there is no love lost between myself and certain managers, and that generally I have problems with authority (my favorite saying is “Question Authority”. I know–big surprise.)* I’ve always been that way; if you had grown up with 9 older “authority figures” perhaps you’d be more reluctant to take authority at face value too!

However, the authority in this case is one of the very few managers for whom I have great respect, so I felt compelled to go straight to the source to check the validity of the rumor.

Obviously, a person of authority cannot admit to such abuse of power on the record. It took a few minutes, but I felt we were able to get to the bottom of the issue and clear the air a bit. I came away believing (and there’s no way I could prove it, nor do I have any interest in doing so), that this manager had in fact been fucking with me. That’s messed up right? Well, here’s where feelings of ambivalence started to kick in.

Turns out, this manager had gotten some pretty serious flack from their superiors for errors that resulted in paying “late lunches” and for taking a whopper of a delay on a flight. The manager confided in me that they felt their job was in jeopardy as a result; I could see in their eyes and hear in their voice that they were genuinely concerned. Well, in my humble opinion, the superiors are full of shit and holding someone accountable at a serious level for petty BS. The “3 Blonde Mice” (or is it four? or five? They seem to keep multiplying like rabbits) are tyrants intent on whipping this station into shape, and if they have to make an example of even their best managers in the process, well then so be it. Talk about an abuse of power!

So, here’s the dilemma: is it my job to protect a good manager by refraining from holding them accountable for errors and for breaking rules? After much thoughtful discussion with one particular coworker, I’ve decided that, had I to do it again, I would indeed do things differently to protect this particular manager, who has gone out of their way to help me in several minor sticky situations. In hindsight, I believe it is the sign of good union-management relationships to overlook the little things, and not be a stickler for small details. By submitting the late lunches, and by taking a delay that possibly could have been avoided, my ego was satisfied, but the price was too high. My motive for doing so was to “keep them honest” and to point out flaws in their new system, but at what cost? As a steward I’m always chastising managers for not choose their battles wisely–for focussing on petty shit too much. Today I had to scold myself for doing exactly the same thing.

*[in truth, I have problems with people in positions of minor authority who exercise their miniscule powers just because they can, and do so from an uninformed or egotistical point of view; often such authority is abused in an attempt to disguise the fact that they don't know what they're doing in the first place. I like to refer to this as "flexing their pin-dick muscle"--and indeed have stated as much to some, not entirely without consequence!]

The 4th and finale episode went up this week. If you haven’t seen them yet, do yourself a favor and click on over to the VBS site.

http://www.vbs.tv/watch/epicly-later-d-season-two/max-schaaf-1-of-4

http://www.vbs.tv/watch/epicly-later-d-season-two/max-schaaf-2-of-4

http://www.vbs.tv/watch/epicly-later-d-season-two/max-schaaf-3-of-4

http://www.vbs.tv/watch/epicly-later-d-season-two/max-schaaf-4-of-4

Another day of design work, and I learned something today: when deciding to crop a skateboard or snowboard action photo, make sure to always keep the launch/ramp and the landing in the frame (and the athlete of course).

Here are some good and bad examples:

Skate

Good

Bad (floating skater)

Snow

Good

Bad (no landing)

When something bad rears its ugly head, people tend to describe it as rampant: rampant inflation, rampant crime, etc.

Rampant came into English from the Middle French verb ramper. One meaning of ramper was “to climb.” By extension, a mammal that reared up onto its hind legs as if to climb into the air was described as rampant.

This stuffed polar bear is in a rampant pose. Photo: photojenni.

What does this have to do with rampant crime? A rampant creature is often in a fierce and aggressive mood; would you want to tangle with the rampant polar bear at right? Thus a problem that has flared up and become dangerous has, metaphorically speaking, become rampant. The same imagery motivates the expression “X reared its (ugly) head”; the idea is that X has risen to its hind legs and is not, so to speak, in a mood to take things lying down.

The connection between being rampant and being fierce was reinforced by the use of rampant in heraldry. A heraldic animal is rampant if it is standing on the sinister hind foot with its front paws raised. Usually the animals in question look rather fierce, like the Scottish lion below.

Rampant lion on the Royal coat of arms of Scotland, Edinburgh Castle.

Below is another rampant creature, a bear from the Swiss Canton of Berne. Notice that the bear looks as if it is climbing a ramp. Linguistically, that is not a coincidence. Ramper, in its sense of “to climb,” gave rise to the noun rampe – an inclined plane used for climbing. This became our English ramp.

Rampant bear on the coat of arms of Canton Berne. Image: Delta-9.

Our last rampant animal is the horse below. It illustrates the meaning of the expression “rearing to go,” or in U.S. slang “rarin’ to go.” When a horse assumes the rampant position pictured below, it is impatient to get moving. The expression “rearing to go” conveys this sense of impatience and urgency.

Hi-ho, Silver! Rearing horse on the coat of arms of Saint-Renan, France. Image: Frédéric MICHEL.