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Well if you have been watching pretty soon we will all die of that Bird flu thing. Meanwhile some folks on the Internet are attempting to sell bogus sugar pills as Bird Flu Vaccine. Forget expecting the FBI and FTC to take care of them, they are still trying to reduce the SPAM in your email box?

So Bird Flu is on its way via airmail from migrating birds and so you order you special Bird Flu Vaccine online like a good parent for the family? Yet you find out the bird flu vaccine is for the birds, as it is the original Fake Counterfeit Bird Flu Vaccine from some Internet Spammer? Oh great, now you are going to fall victim to Bird Flu and like the other 150 million predicted to die, your soul will fly away along with all the culled chickens?

But what the heck Roche cannot make enough of the Tamiflu drug anyway to stop the N5H1 Bird Flu anyway. That is the bird flu virus, which is predicted to mutate to kill people? How do they know this unless those Spammers are screwing their chickens to create the mutated bird flu, before they come and screw all of us with their Fake Counterfeit Bird Flu Vaccines? Think on it.

“Lance Winslow” - Online Think Tank forum board. If you have innovative thoughts and unique perspectives, come think with Lance; www.WorldThinkTank.net/wttbbs/

This week I celebrate another birthday, which brings me to that auspicious milestone where I am right between 52 and 54. A person only comes to this stage of life once, so I am going to make the most of it.

This year I plan celebrating my 29th birthday. I figure it’s my birthday, so I should be able to celebrate whichever one I please. Twenty-nine is the perfect age; this is the third time for me to celebrate it and it probably will not be the last.

At 29, you are not over the hill and yet you are far enough from those turbulent teenage years not to be mistaken by anyone for a teenager. Everybody knows that 30 is over the hill and it is all down hill from there. However, it can be a pleasant slide into those golden years, so they tell me.

I have come to this conclusion. When a person reaches 30, they should celebrate their birthday every other year, then, after 50 only celebrate their birthday whenever they remember it. It will cut down on the fire hazard some birthday cakes pose. A person should only be as old as the birthdays they can remember.

Lying about one’s age has become an acceptable practice for many. Women, in particular, have mastered the finesse in this area. After all, what man in his right mind (if you can find one in his right mind) would ever accuse a woman, especially his wife, of fibbing here?

As long as there are stretch marks, people will stretch the truth about their nativity. Beware of the person who does not lie about their age. They are trying to throw you off guard for something.

Men can lie about their golf game, or how big the fish that got away was but when it comes to their age, women have them beat, hands down. Men have never mastered the technique crucial to lying about how many candles should go on that annual cake.

Men have a ridiculous notion that getting older is good. “I’m 65 and still can do the work of any 25-year-old,” is the boast you often hear from the male populous. Most women will never admit to being 65, let alone comparing themselves to some 25-year-old.

This brings me to a very important inquiry: How to tell you’re getting old. After all, old is relative - only your relatives are getting old.

The first telltale sign of getting older is that you begin to notice certain changes around you. For example, when I first began reading this newspaper they printed it in nice bold type. Now they are using much smaller print.

I think the change relates to some economical concern the publisher has. After all, smaller type means they can print more words per page. If the trend continues, they will be able to print the entire newspaper on one page.

Another sign I have recently noticed is that stairs have become steeper. A couple of years ago I barely noticed them. However, a conspiracy is in the wind. Not only are they steeper but some unscrupulous person has added steps to all the stairs in my vicinity.

We must put together a special task force immediately before any more steps are added. A danger here, and I don’t want to be an alarmist, is that eventually staircases will never end and they will go absolutely nowhere.

Is it me or are people playing music much louder than they used to? I’m not sure of the reason for this annoying change, but I believe someone has been slowly increasing the volume, thinking nobody will notice. But I have noticed, so please stop it, whoever you are.

To compound this problem many people are talking much faster then they used to, especially the under 20 group. That may explain why I never get what I order at a drive-thru restaurant.

Then, the week seems to go by so much faster. I can remember when I was in school the week just dragged on and on. I thought it would never end.

Now, I no sooner get adjusted to Monday and its Friday already. Whatever happens to Tuesday through Thursday? Where do those days go?

I almost forgot (my memory is not what it used to be), I would like to say something nice about losing your memory. My grandmother always said that if you could not say something nice about someone you should not say anything at all.

So, let me say something nice about the marvelous phenomena of forgetfulness. Ah … I’m sorry. I forgot what I was going to say.

Age does have its advantages: free checking, 10 percent off at most restaurants, and not remembering what you had for dinner last night which enables you to have desert two days in a row without feeling guilty.

Everybody grows old but not many people grow up. This is a major problem not only in general but also in the church. Some Christians are not growing up.

The Apostle Peter was concerned about this. He writes, “But grow in grace, and in the knowledge of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. To him be glory both now and forever. Amen.” (2 Peter 3:5 KJV.)

Each day brings with it opportunities to grow. Take advantage of it today and enjoy getting older.

About the Author

Award winning author and popular columnist living in Ocala, FL

Recent careful GPS readings conducted on the 15-16th September have established that Monte Bianco numbers 4810.8 meters. Mount-Blanc is covered by a thick icecap which has augmented by 2 m in exactly 2 yrs however more unexpectedly the mass of the ice has virtually doubled . Leastwise that’s as reported by the experts.

The volume of snow and ice was computed for the first time in 2004. It measured 14000 cubic metres higher up than 4760 m. It equaled only 13700 meters cubed in 2005 possibly owing to the warmth with + temp as high as 5000 metres altitude. Moreover the ice-cap has nearly doubled since then and now numbers 22000 metres cubed.

Chamonix’s respected near by weather forecaster Waneta Taylor explained the increase in the mass of the ice-cap is one of the perverse results of global warming: Snowfall hasn’t grown generally in the Alps simply with the climate change we are having a lot of warm prevailing westerly air currents which bring rainfall lower down however in summer this translates to significant snow that rests above 4000 meters altitude therefore the amount of the ice cap is increasing. Counterpoint this to the situation in winter time when the snow crystals are very cold and are transported by the wind so don’t settle on the summit.

Chamonix village is not only renowned for Mount Blanc it is also a well renowned snowboarding resort and alpinism mecca with many ski deals and lodging offers to be found.

It used to be that knowing a good joke or one-liner was the way of giving the gift of laughter. It still is. But, for those of us who have a hard time remembering jokes or coming up with our own, we have turned to wearing funny t-shirts in order to deliver this gift.

Now, the gift of laughter has many faces. The gift can be sharing a joke with another human being or it can be enjoyed solely by the wearer of the funny t-shirt. For instance, many funny t-shirt websites now have a line of offensive or rude t-shirts that are meant to shock the other party who reads them. The one who purchases and wears this funny t-shirt enjoys the reaction of others.

Funny t-shirts can also make social or political statements as well. Two terms of the current President have spawned all sorts of hilarity at his expense. Of course, many others would argue that he’s brought all this ridicule upon himself. No matter, funny t-shirts are about delivering a message and about personal identity.

When one wears a funny t-shirt they are stating, “This is who I am and this is what I believe”. Funny t-shirts are also a good way to break the ice in a social situation. Men and women no longer have to struggle with cheesy pick-up lines as they can simply state their interests on a funny tee. For instance, a t-shirt that reads, “Quick! I need a naked nurse” or “I’m in touch with my horniness emotion” may just tell the opposite sex of your interests.

Funny t-shirts have also turned vintage. Graphics of those from yesteryear spouting puns, irony and dirty slogans have been popular of late. Humorous graphics from the 1920’s to the 1970’s are generally used to deliver the funny messages.

Some funny t-shirts are all about the message and contain no funny graphics whatsoever. The concept and joke or pun is the key to the humor in these t-shirt designs. These designs may include some minimal design work like fun with fonts, drop shadows, colors and outlines, but verbal message is the most important element in these types of funny tees.

All-in-all, funny t-shirts are a great way to get the message of laughter out. Share a joke with a family member, friend or coworker today just by dropping a funny tee on yourself. It’s a lot more fun than wearing a “kick me” sign on your back and generally no animal testing is done when producing the tees.

Copyright © 2006 FunnyDesigns.com

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Copyright The Quipping Queen 2005

I LEFT MY TOES IN TUKTOYAKTUK
– Or, Tittynoping Tales from a Tavern Fox –

Theolonius McTavish, a trivial talkingstock (an Old English term for an object of conversation) who inevitably forgets the punch-lines to knock-knock jokes and consequently is rarely offered free drinks by pub patrons unless they are woebegone and desperate for the companionship of a somewhat cabobbled, copper-nosed cronk (i.e. a mystified, jolly-nosed, gossiping sort of soul who frequently inhabits smoke-filled haunts with bad lighting and belching balladeers as the only form of nightly entertainment)

Being a mirthful mundivagant of sorts, I decided it was high time to don my gallant gumboots, garish gunnysack, and goose-down garb to take a gander at some far-flung places in need of my presence.

While some souls leave their hearts in San Francisco, I left another part of my anatomy somewhere else. If truth be told, I left my toes in Tuktoyaktuk, (along with a memorable meal of minute rice, mushy peas and milk pudding).

Why Tuktoyaktuk? Well why not! Any town with a tongue-twisting title like Tuktoyaktuk deserves to be visited … even by a six-water-grog, sky-boshing Scot like me. The fact that it’s situated in a godforsaken place, (actually it’s a charming little northern outpost nestled conveniently in the dark deep-freeze and mooching muskeg of Canada), is a truly bonus.

Before departing on my jocular journey, I needed to know a little more about the “Land of Blizzards, Bugs & Beer”. Visiting the second-largest nation on earth is one thing but having a conversation with a Canuck is quite another.

One piece of advice … begin every conversation with “So, how’s the weather …over there …up there, or …down there anyway? Then be prepared for a scintillating pity pot story that captures the essence of Canada — where it’s blinking cold and wet outside, it’s much too muggy or miserable to play outdoors, or it’s downright dangerous to stick a toe out the door with all the blasted bugs or bears camping on the front porch.

Second piece of advice…ignore weather forecasts (they’re about as reliable as a crapshoot in this country). Just bring along a big bumbershoot (capable of handling two months of something called “heavy precipitation”). Be prepared to brandish a large can of bug-repellent at the least sign of winged pesky pests (that appear during a one-month season called “summer”). And whatever you do, don’t forget to buy a six-pack of premium beer to wash down all the midges, mosquitoes, black flies or horse flies (as well as warm the cockles of your heart so you can cope with the other 11 months of brisk temperatures, blustery breezes and blinding blizzards).

Third piece of advice, use your imagination and figure out what you might want to find in a large-print, picture book called “A Manual on Moose, Mosquitoes & Mukluks”. Hint: You might want to explore the following: (1) why Santa Claus moved with his far-fetched family to the North Pole to set up a toy shop; (2) why some smelly soul called “Sasquatch” likes to hang out in provincial parks; and (3) why Snow White decided not to invest in cottage country because a carnivorous creature called “Little Red Riding Hood” got there first and devoured three French-speaking hens (who knows why), two calling birds (who probably wouldn’t shut up) and a big bad wolf (who was on sale at the butcher shop for $8.95 plus 7% GST).

Fare thee well Oh Canada. And, as a token of my deepest affection for your weed-whacking wilderness, wretched weather, and weird ways…may you enjoy my tingling toes, tidily pum. Because after walking in someone else’s moccasins and mukluks for a month or two, I now know why the deer and the antelope, not to mention the beaver and bear, plus the ‘Abominable Person of Snow’ all call this problematical place “home”.

About the Author

Theolonius McTavish, can be found lollgagging and lounging about like the lip-laboured, long-in-the-mouth mystery man he is in the company of other boisterous boffins and bird-duffers at The Court of the Quipping Queen

So what do you do during half-term? Are you one of those parents who has everything organised so well that Little Bob or Little Sheila is off to grandma’s before they could say “but Grandma’s blind and in a wheelchair”. Where you would promptly respond by handing them a bag of videos and told to “hush child before I beat you”. Or are you one of the many who spend the best part of the week rushing from NW to SE in a desperate bid, begging friends and family members to “could you do the Tuesday love, I’ll pay you in kind”

So there I was one year, thinking, I just don’t feel like doing the half-term thing this time. True to my decision, after the first day with the kids I made the stern decision to escape, leaving them with their father. I knew that if I did not disappear very soon, it would’ve been detrimental to my children’s health. So wishing their father good luck, adios, condolences and leaving no survival tips with him, I leapt off into the sunset to travel the 1 hour’s journey to North London. And as I went, I giggled insanely at thoughts of him trying to cope; visions of him trying to find his stress reliever, his bottle of Jack Daniels, or bottle of Prozac which I made sure I gave to next door’s cat before I left.

Over the years, whist doing the school holidays thing I have had to find means and ways of keeping myself intact and sane. Those violent tendencies, which try to surface once in a while, well more than a while now since the eldest one’s rampaging hormones have kicked in at the tender age of 13 (the teenaged years just isn’t funny when one is a parent) and the 8 year old thinks he’s a teenager - those violent tendencies have had to be suppressed with my dear friend “Prozac.” I have also upped the amount of time and the level of training I do at the gym. This therapy is what has proved to be a saviour. At times like these, I release so much aggression that were I not dedicated to working out several times a week, I would certainly react rather badly to my children, with a rope and a bag of bricks. (Well, in thought only, but sometimes peeps, they could take me there believe.)

So it was a novelty to spend “hush time” at my sisters’ home, not having to do all those routine things a mother normally has to do. So, there I was at my sisters’ house, living the life of a single person. If we felt like eating we ate. If we felt too idle and the effort to even put on a couple slices of toasts too taxing, we sat, watched tv, then so the pain didn’t kill us before the hunger did, we’d opt to go to bed early. This was also a rather pleasant time as I was privileged to venture out to the cinema, go out for meals and walks - with no-one in tow fighting or trying to beat the brains out of each other. I was also able to keep my hard earned cash where it belonged without someone trying to fleece me of it for things ranging from chocolate to playing cards. Neither did I do any laundry, washing, or ironing for a whole week - pure indulgence.

Therefore, my stress-levels behaved rather well, thank you very much. That was until the children decided that it was imperative and a matter of life or death to call me every hour on the hour. Their little voices constantly bleating “we miss you, come back, we promise to beeeeeehave”. And yes, I did feel sorry for them and I too missed them terribly. Therefore, as a result of these traumatic feelings, and the burden that now lay heavily upon my heart I decided to stay away for another week - and to enjoy a bit more of life’s pleasurable moments of freedom.

Therefore, in light of the above, I sent their father a book by the Dalai Lama, which captured the elements of peaceful living. As a token of goodwill I also sent a barrel full of Trazodone and Paxil (all anti-depressants) and a bottle of vodka - with a note stating “take yer pick” and “wish you were ere.”

About the Author

Esther Austin is in her late thirties and is of Barbadian parentage. She is a published author of comedy, poetry and inspirational books, published under Think Doctor Publications Ltd. She is website Director of www.caribbeanwoman.co.uk. She has two boys, lives in London and loves going to the theatre, loves writing, eating out, playing football, and generally being physically active.

Creativity can be defined as problem identification and idea generation whilst innovation can be defined as idea selection, development and commercialisation.

There are other useful definitions in this field, for example, creativity can be defined as consisting of a number of ideas, a number of diverse ideas and a number of novel ideas.

There are distinct processes that enhance problem identification and idea generation and, similarly, distinct processes that enhance idea selection, development and commercialisation. Whilst there is no sure fire route to commercial success, these processes improve the probability that good ideas will be generated and selected and that investment in developing and commercialising those ideas will not be wasted.

5 ideas an hour

The Economist (2003b) states that 3000 bright ideas are needed for 100 worthwhile projects, which in turn will be winnowed down to four development programmes for new products. And four such development programmes are the minimum needed to stand any chance of getting one winner.

From the above it is clear that a large number of good ideas are required before the innovation process can truly begin. Given that the bright ideas themselves would have been chosen from a larger pool of general ideas, the problem becomes one of maximising idea generation before idea selection begins.

One method of generating such a huge pool is to take advantage of some of the well known idea generating methods and principles, including:

a) The sum of ideas produced by individuals working alone is greater than the number of ideas produced by a group consisting of those individuals.

b) Incremental productivity produces more output than a “do your best” approach. By tasking individuals to generate five ideas an hour, they will produce forty in an average working day. Multiply that by “n” number of individuals in the firm and you have n X 40 ideas per day. A hundred individuals are able to produce 4000 ideas a day.

c) As stated above, creativity is problem identification and idea generation. Idea generation without problem identification reduces total output, as individuals have only a vague notion of what problem they are attempting to solve. Focus as much on problem identification as idea generation.

d) The production of such vast numbers of ideas requires the need for idea management. Knowledge Managers will be required. Ideas are valueless unless they are successfully implemented and that will not happen unless an Idea Manager takes control.

These and other topics are covered in depth in the MBA dissertation on Managing Creativity & Innovation, which can be purchased (along with a Creativity and Innovation DIY Audit, Good Idea Generator Software and Power Point Presentation) from http://www.managing-creativity.com/

You can also receive a regular, free newsletter by entering your email address at this site.

Kal Bishop, MBA

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You are free to reproduce this article as long as no changes are made and the author’s name and site URL are retained.

Kal Bishop is a management consultant based in London, UK. He has consulted in the visual media and software industries and for clients such as Toshiba and Transport for London. He has led Improv, creativity and innovation workshops, exhibited artwork in San Francisco, Los Angeles and London and written a number of screenplays. He is a passionate traveller. He can be reached on http://www.managing-creativity.com/

Copyright The Quipping Queen 2005.

HAS AMERICA GONE TO THE DOGS?
– Or, “Woofstock” Here We Come! –

Canucks take a good deal of pride in their hockey, beer, and cellular telephones (especially those Fido commercials about perky pet-owners who bear a striking resemblance to their posh- or pathetic-looking pooches).

Recently in Toronto, (the capital of everything BIG in Canada), they held a weird and wonderful event, aptly called “Woofstock”, to celebrate man’s best friend plus push every imaginable product and service to pamper one’s hip-looking hound.

The most fur-friendly towns in Canada are probably Dog Creek or Poopoo Creek (British Columbia), Dog’s Nest (Ontario) and Dog Pound (Alberta). Perhaps, the only place where they’ve actually waged a war over the issue of freedom for Fido is in Victoria, British Columbia. Elected officials there recently passed a bylaw permitting off-leash perambulating and piddling, (with free doggie-doo-doo bags as an incentive for well-behaved pet-owners who care to stroll along the scenic seashore and tourist-trap trail known as “Dallas Road”).

In fact, America is home to some unusual pastimes such the enduring love of its citizens for bigger-than-life spectator sports. One of the most popular forms of entertainment involves media-hungry politicians who simply adore any opportunity to “mark their territory”, “get their paws on a bone”, and “let a little fur fly” (as long as they’re not caught on tape “barking up the wrong tree”).

Come to think of it, if the current President of the United States needs canine confidantes in the Whitehouse, (two Scottish terriers named “Miss Beasley” and “Barney”) to help him guide the affairs of state, (in return for a free run of the red carpet), then you know things must be hunky dory in the “Land of Lassie” and friends. And he is not alone in seeking the companionship of a cuddly canine. At least 200 pooches have resided at this prestigious address since the birth of this pet-friendly nation.
And for those who can’t get enough hair-raising facts to stimulate their minds, there are 28.4 million web pages devoted to these marvellous mutts. As if that were not enough, more than 1,086 geographic features (including airports, bars, bays, beaches, bridges, buildings, canals, capes, cemeteries, channels, churches, cliffs, crossings, dams, flats, gaps, glaciers, islands, keys, lakes, mines, oilfields, parks, pillars, post-offices, ranges, reservoirs, ridges, schools, springs, streams, summits, swamps, valleys, and wells) have been named after these blessed bow-wowing creatures (according to the U.S. Geological Survey - National Mapping Information website).

It may be a “dog-eat-dog world” out there but judging from the plethora of pet-inspired U.S. place names, the most fido-friendly towns to hang out in are probably:

- Big Lick (North Carolina)
- Canine Gulch (Alaska)
- Dog Bluff (South Carolina)
- Dog Canyon Estates (New Mexico)
- Dog Corners (Maine), Dogs Corners (New Jersey)
- Dog Creek (Oklahoma, Kentucky)
- Dog Ear Lake (Florida)
- Dog Hill (Tennessee)
- Dog Pond (Arizona)
- Dog Hole Lake (Florida)
- Doggie Island (South Carolina)
- Doghouse Junction (California)
- Dog Island (Florida)
- Dog Island Corner (Maine)
- Dogpatch (Alaska, Arkansas, Arizona), Dog Patch (West Virginia)
- Dog Ridge (Texas)
- Dogtail Corners (New York)
- Dogtown (Alabama, California, Florida, Kentucky, Maryland, Maine, Mississippi, New England, New York, Pennsylvania, Tennessee)
- Dogsboro (Georgia)
- Dog Walk (Illinois, Kentucky)
- Dogway (West Virginia)
- Gnaw Bone (Indiana)
- Licking (Mississippi)
- Mutt (Virginia)
- Paw Paw (Illinois)
- Poocham (New Hampshire)
- Tick Bite (North Carolina)
- Township of Dog Ear (South Dakota)

Americans currently spend close to $34 billion annually on their pets. While ornery owners sometimes find themselves in the proverbial “doghouse”, millions of mischievous mutts and misbehaving mongrels enjoy a life of ease as someone’s favorite “animal companion”.

It is estimated that 64.5% of American adults are now categorized as overweight according to the American Asssociation Obesity. As if that’s not enough, more than 40% of household pets today are said to be obese, (causing alarm among the nation’s pet-insurance providers as health-related illness claims for “Max” or “Minnie” spiral out of control).

Meanwhile back in Emerald City, vets are trying to capitalize quickly on the latest canine craze among celebrity pet-owners — tummy tucks, face-lifts and extreme-makeovers. So rest assured “Petunia Plump”, “Ms Piggly-Wiggly” and “Fat Freddie” …you too can be slim and trim (just like Toto for pete’s sake!)

According to Amazon.com, (a remarkable database of delightful doggie doodads for canine consumers), there’s something for everyone who enjoys a bit of “Rufus retail therapy”. Forget about “letting sleeping dogs lie”, or “teaching old dogs new tricks”, because if one’s keen about making sure “every dog has his day”, then “putting on the dog” is all that’s required (plus a valid credit card of course).

Here’s a hint of just how important these pooch products and dandy “dogs” of all kinds are to the economy of the world’s richest country. According to the folks at Amazon.com, they have more than 96,000 canine consumer products in 38 categories to choose from! Judging from these statistics, some might conclude that America has definitely gone to the dogs — and they could be right!!

Meanwhile across the pond in England, professionals from “PetPlanet” point out that one insurance company has collected file cabinets of doggy data about which mutts have the highest accident-rate. So do take care and avoid naming the silly scamp Rush, Fagin, Heinze, Berty, Ruskin, Jena, Cagney, Captain, Brook, or Radar please.

Lest anyone think that everyone’s gone completely bonkers, one only has to read the amazing anecdotes of Aesop (whom it seems had a penchant for pooch platitudes judging from his wildebeest works entitled “The Dog in the Manger”, “The Dog and the Wolf” and “The Fox, The Cock and the Dog”).

May the Force of Fido be with you and yours forever and ever!

PS…and don’t forget to celebrate the 55th anniversary of “Snoopy”, (the best-known, blinking beagle in town), and all the gang from the “Peanuts” cartoon-strip this year!

About the Author

Thor Trewoofe, a glad-handing globe-trotter with a keen interest in those virile vikings who once ruled the world of whacking, whomping, and perhaps far too much whoopdedoing for their own good, and an accidental tourist in the Court of the Quipping Queen at www.quippingqueen.blogspot.com

It happens all the time: someone close to you, a friend, a family member, a close colleague, has a baby and you have no idea what to give them. You feel guilty, you fish around for the usual clichéd presents: the booties, the mobiles, the picture books. You yawn and wish there was something you could give that would show how truly happy you are for the parents of that bundle of joy, and this is where a baby name bracelet can help you end that tedious search.

Once you’ve found out what the happy parent (or parents) have planned to name their newborn babe (or babies), a personalized, handcrafted bracelet can be a thoughtful, generous gift. A bracelet adorned with the baby’s name will live on long past the child’s infancy, and can serve as a memorable keepsake for which to add to a parent’s treasure chest of birth certificates, first teeth, and priceless photos. And the best part about a gift like this is that it can vary widely in price, depending on how much you want to spend, or how close you are to the parents in question. Whether or not you want to spend a nice sum on a gold fashioned bracelet, one engraved in sterling silver, or one festooned with pearls and other gems, the market will offer up a wide array of prices that will suit the gift giver any way they see fit.

The clasp of a is best fashioned with hearts, or boots, or other such charms which can make complete the gift you wish to give with an emblem significant to a young one’s life. As a parent, what could be more precious than a gift which will live on as a commemoration of the birth of their loved child, long after that child has grown into adulthood. A further attraction given to many baby bracelets, is the inclusion of the child’s birthstone within the circumference of the bracelet, which, along with the engraved name, personalize the gift that much more. With the beautiful gemstones of emerald, sapphire, amethyst, or ruby, added to blocks of engraved mother of pearl spelling out the child’s name, you can create not only a personal and memorable gift, but a rather beautiful one at that.

You may even wish to create a beautiful differentiation through the blending of gold and silver designs, or the interlacing of different gems within the bracelet’s pattern to create a truly unique and aesthetically pleasing gift which will delight the family who receives it for years to come. You can allow yourself to be creative, or let one the various dealers of these gifts to be creative for you, and in either case, achieve something unique and special at reasonable cost and effort. Add a charm or two of a Christian cross, or the Chinese symbol for longevity, or some other icon symbolic of the newborn in question you wish to express, and you’ve already added to the complexity and meaning of what at first seemed a simple and straightforward gift. As ever, it truly is the thought that counts when it comes to gift giving, and a child bracelet is one of the easiest and most touching ways to show a family just how happy you are about their newest addition.

Christopher M. Luck has an extensive background with over 18 years experience creating amazing baby name bracelets and is now offering his free professional baby bracelet tips to the public. If you are at all interested in Christopher’s baby name bracelet advice, tips, or secrets, you can visit his baby bracelet blog