Alexa ranking system which is generally counted to be wrong by several webmasters have changed their ranking system with improved methodology and now the traffic is tracked from several different sources which may be toolbars installed on user’s computers.

Here are some of the biggest changes i have seen :

Shoemoney.com : Was 2xxx Rank : Now 19818 Rank
Problogger : Was 3xxx Rank : Now 12917 Rank
JohnChow : Was 5xxx Rank : Now 17088 Rank
DigitalPoint : Was 3xxRank : Now 938 Rank
Global Internet Index : Was 66000 Rank : Now 45323 Rank
JimKarter : Was 40xxxRank : Now 187845 Rank
AmitBhawani : Was 70000Rank : Now 54006 Rank
Labnol : Was 19000 Rank : Now 14626 Rank

This clearly shows that Alexa previously used to track down websites based on webmaster’s traffic and give webmaster related websites a better rank but now it seems to be perfectly tracking everything.

Here is some info from Alexa Announcement page

When Alexa began displaying rankings in 1998 it was with the goal of showing Alexa Toolbar users how popular any given site was within the Alexa community. We generated the rankings through an analysis of Internet usage by people who use the Alexa Toolbar. Since that time we’ve been delighted to see that the Alexa Rankings have become a yardstick by which website popularity is measured. We are grateful to the thousands of people who come to Alexa.com each day to check the Alexa Rankings.

In recent months we’ve heard from our Alexa users that understanding Internet usage beyond Alexa Toolbar users was increasingly of interest. Ask and you shall receive!

We listened to your suggestions, and we believe that our new rankings system is much closer to what you asked for. We now aggregate data from multiple sources to give you a better indication of website popularity among the entire population of Internet users.
My site’s ranking has changed. Was it wrong before?
Will you change the rankings again?
I liked the old rankings better. Are they still available somewhere?

Did you gain/lose any rankings in Alexa?

[via amitbhawani.com]

So who came up with the idea of honoring mothers nation-wide on the second Sunday in May?

EARLY CELEBRATIONS
Some historians claim that the predecessor of the Mother’s Day holiday was the ancient spring festival dedicated to mother goddesses. In the ancient Greek empire the spring festival honored Rhea, wife of Cronus and mother of the gods and goddesses. In Rome the most significant Mother’s Day-like festival was dedicated to the worship of Cybele, another mother goddess. Ceremonies in her honor began some 250 years before Christ was born. This Roman religious celebration, known as Hilaria, lasted for three days - from March 15 to 18!

ENGLAND’S MOTHERING SUNDAY
More like the modern celebration of Mother’s Day is England’s “Mothering Sunday”, also called Mid-Lent Sunday, observed on the fourth Sunday in Lent. Some say the ceremonies in honor of Cybele were adopted by the early church to venerate the Mother of Christ, Mary. Others believe the Mother Church was substituted for mother goddess and custom began to dictate that a person visit the church of his/her baptism on this day. People attended the mother church of their parish, laden with offerings.

Also in England in the 1600’s, young men and women who were apprentices or servants returned home on Mothering Sunday, bringing to their mothers small gifts like trinkets or a “mothering cake”. Sometimes furmety was served - wheat grains boiled in sweet milk, sugared and spiced.

In northern England and in Scotland, the preferred refreshments were carlings - pancakes made of steeped pease fried in butter, with pepper and salt. In fact, in some locations this day was called Carling Sunday.

Another kind of mothering cake was the simnel cake, a very rich fruit cake. The Lenten fast dictated that the simnel cake had to keep until Easter. It was boiled in water, then baked, and was often finished with an almond icing. Sometimes the crust was of flour and water, colored with saffron.

INTEREST STARTS IN THE UNITED STATES
Anna M. Jarvis (1864-1948) is credited with originating our Mother’s Day holiday. She never married and was extremely attached to her mother, Mrs. Anna Reese Jarvis. Mrs. Jarvis was a minister’s daughter who for 20 years taught Sunday School in the Andrews Methodist Church of Grafton, West Virginia. Miss Jarvis graduated from the Female Seminary in Wheeling, West Virginia, and taught in Grafton before moving to Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, with the rest of her family.

Anna Reese Jarvis died in Philadelphia in May of 1905. Still unmarried and left alone with her blind sister Elsinore, Anna missed her mother greatly. Two years after her mother’s death (1907) Anna Jarvis and her friends began a letter-writing campaign to gain the support of influential ministers, businessmen and congressmen in declaring a national Mother’s Day holiday. She felt children often neglected to appreciate their mother enough while the mother was still alive. She hoped Mother’s Day would increase respect for parents and strengthen family bonds.

THE FIRST MOTHER’S DAY
The first Mother’s Day observance was a church service honoring Mrs. Anna Reese Jarvis, held at Anna Jarvis’s request in Grafton, West Virginia, and in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, on May 10, 1908.

Carnations, her mother’s favorite flowers, were supplied at that first service by Miss Jarvis. White carnations were chosen because they represented the sweetness, purity and endurance of mother love. Red carnations, in time, became the symbol of a living mother. White ones now signify that one’s mother has died.

OTHER MOTHER’S DAY OBSERVANCES
The first Mother’s Day proclamation was issued by the governor of West Virginia in 1910. Oklahoma celebrated Mother’s Day that year as well. By 1911 every state had its own observances. By then other areas celebrating Mother’s Day included Mexico, Canada, China, Japan, South America and Africa. The Mother’s Day International Association was incorporated on December 12, 1912, with the purpose of furthering meaningful observations of Mother’s Day.

OFFICIAL PROCLAMATION
The House of Representatives in May, 1913, unanimously adopted a resolution requesting the President, his Cabinet, members of Congress, and all officials of the federal government to wear a white carnation on Mother’s Day. Congress passed another Joint Resolution May 8, 1914, designating the second Sunday in May as Mother’s Day. The U.S. flag is to be displayed on government buildings and at people’s homes “as a public expression of our love and reverence for the mothers of our country.” President Woodrow Wilson issued the first proclamation making Mother’s Day an official national holiday.

SO NOW WHAT?
If your mother is still alive, take care to shower her with special attention this Mother’s Day. Visit her. Phone her. Send her a card. Give her flowers. Get her gourmet chocolates. Buy her something you know she’s been wanting. But don’t wait until after her funeral to let her know how much you’ve appreciated her! Wear your red (or otherwise-colored) carnation proudly.

Jackie Lantry is a part-time hospital clerk in Rehoboth, Mass. She and her husband have adopted two girls and two boys from China. When Jackie asked her children what they believed in, they said “family.”

“It was not therapy, counselors or medications. It did not cost money, require connections or great privilege. It was love: just simple, plain, easy to give.”

I believe in the ingredients[成分] of love, the elements from which it is made. I believe in love’s humble, practical components and their combined power.

We adopted Luke four years ago. The people from the orphanage dropped him off at our hotel room without even saying goodbye. He was nearly six years old, only 28 pounds and his face was crisscrossedwith scars. Clearly, he was terrified. “What are his favorite things?” I yelled. “Noodles,” they replied as the elevator door shut.

Luke kicked and screamed. I stood between him and the door to keep him from bolting[门栓]. His cries were anguished, animal-like. He had never seen a mirror and tried to escape by running through one. I wound my arms around him so he could not hit or kick. After an hour and a half he finally fell asleep, exhausted. I called room service. They delivered every noodle dish on the menu. Luke woke up, looked at me and started sobbing again. I handed him chopsticks and pointed at the food. He stopped crying and started to eat. He ate until I was sure he would be sick.

That night we went for a walk. Delighted at the moon, he pantomimed, “What is it?” I said, “The moon, it’s the moon.” He reached up and tried to touch it. He cried again when I tried to give him a bath until I started to play with the water. By the end of his bath the room was soaked and he was giggling. I lotioned him up, powdered him down and clothed him in soft PJs. We read the book One Yellow Lion. He loved looking at the colorful pictures and turning the pages. By the end of the night he was saying, “one yellow lion.”

The next day we met orphanage officials to do paperwork. Luke was on my lap as they filed into the room. He looked at them and wrapped my arms tightly around his waist.

He was a sad, shy boy for a long time after those first days. He cried easily and withdrew at the slightest provocation. He hid food in his pillowcase and foraged in garbage cans. I wondered then if he would ever get over the wounds of neglect that the orphanage had beaten into him.

It has been four years. Luke is a smart, funny, happy fourth-grader. He is loaded with charm and is a natural athlete. His teachers say he is well behaved and works very hard. Our neighbor says she has never seen a happier kid.

When I think back, I am amazed at what transformed this abused, terrified little creature. It was not therapy, counselors or medications. It did not cost money, require connections or great privilege. It was love: just simple, plain, easy to give. Love is primal. It is comprised of compassion, care, security, and a leap of faith. I believe in the power of love to transform. I believe in the power of love to heal.

My brother-in-law opened the bottom drawer of my sister’s bureau and lifted out a tissue-wrapped package. “This”, he said, “is not a slip. This is lingerie.” He discarded the tissue and handed me the slip.

It was exquisite, silk, handmade and trimmed with a cobweb of lace. The price tag with an astronomical figure on it was still attached.

“Jan bought this the first time we went to New York, at least 8 or 9 years ago. She never wore it. She was saving it for a special occasion.

Well, I guess this is the occasion.

He took the slip from me and put it on the bed, with the other clothes we were taking to the mortician. His hands lingered on the soft material for a moment, then he slammed the drawer shut and turned to me, “Don’t ever save anything for a special occasion. Every day you’ re alive is a special occasion.”

I remembered those words through the funeral and the days that followed when I helped him and my niece attend to all the sad chores that follow an unexpected death. I thought about them on the plane returning to California from the midwestern town where my sister’s family lives. I thought about all the things that she hadn’t seen or heard or done. I thought about the things that she had done without realizing that they were special.

I’m still thinking about his words, and they’ve changed the weeds in the garden. I’m spending more time with my family and friends and less time in committee meetings. Whenever possible, life should be a pattern of experience to savour, not endure. I’m trying to recognize these moment now and cherish them.

I’m not “saving” anything; we use our good china and crystal for every special. Event such as losing a pound, getting the sink unstopped, the first camellia blossom… I wear my good blazer to the market if I feel like it. My theory is if I look prosperous, I can shell out $28. 49 for one small bag of groceries without wincing. I’m not saving my good perfume for special parties; clerks in hardware stores and tellers in banks have noses that function as well as my party going friends.

“Someday” and “one of these days” are losing their grip on my vocabulary. If it’s worth seeing or hearing or doing, I want to see and hear and do it now. I’ m not sure what my sister would’ve done had she know that she wouldn’t be here for the tomorrow we all take for granted.

I think she would have called family members and a few close friends. She might have called a few former friends to apologize, and mend fences for past squabbles. I like to think she would have gone out for a Chinese dinner, her favorite food. I’m guessing. I’ll never know.

It’s those little things left undone that would make me angry if I knew that my hours were limited. Angry because I put off seeing good friends whom I was going to get in touch with someday. Angry because I hadn’t written certain letters that I intended to write one of these days. Angry and sorry that I didn’t tell my husband and daughter often enough how much I truly love them.

I’m trying very hard not to put off, hold back, or save anything that would add laughter and luster to our lives. And every morning when I open my eyes, I tell myself that every day, every minute, every breath truly, is… a gift from God.

I teach economics at UNLV three times per week. Last Monday, at the beginning of class, I cheerfully asked my students how their weekend had been. One young man said that his weekend had not been so good. He had his wisdom teeth removed. The young man then proceeded to ask me why I always seemed to be so cheerful.

His question reminded me of something I’d read somewhere before: “Every morning when you get up, you have a choice about how you want to approach life that day,” I said. “I choose to be cheerful.”

“Let me give you an example,” I continued, addressing all sixty students in the class. “In addition to teaching here at UNLV, I also teach out at the community college in Henderson, 17 miles down the freeway from where I live. One day a few weeks ago I drove those 17 miles to Henderson. I exited the freeway and turned onto College Drive. I only had to drive another quarter mile down the road to the college. But just then my car died. I tried to start it again, but the engine wouldn’t turn over. So I put my flashers on, grabbed my books, and marched down the road to the college.

“As soon as I got there I called AAA and arranged for a tow truck to meet me at my car after class. The secretary in the Provost’s office asked me what has happened. ‘This is my lucky day,’ I replied, smiling.

“‘Your car breaks down and today is your lucky day?’ She was puzzled. ‘What do you mean?’

“‘I live 17 miles from here.’ I replied. ‘My car could have broken down anywhere along the freeway. It didn’t. Instead, it broke down in the perfect place: off the freeway, within walking distance of here. I’m still able to teach my class, and I’ve been able to arrange for the tow truck to meet me after class. If my car was meant to break down today, it couldn’t have been arranged in a more convenient fashion.’

The secretary’s eyes opened wide, and then she smiled. I smiled back and headed for class.” So ended my story.

I scanned the sixty faces in my economics class at UNLV. Despite the early hour, no one seemed to be asleep. Somehow, my story had touched them. Or maybe it wasn’t the story at all. In fact, it had all started with a student’s observation that I was cheerful.

Deepak Chopra has quoted an Indian wise man as saying, “Who you are speaks louder to me than anything you can say.” I suppose it must be so.

by Lee Ryan Miller