When it comes to gifts, it's not easy to shop for someone when you're not sure what they're into. Thankfully, Crate and Barrel's sister store — the modern, fancy version — CB2 has a gift collection that is just as beautiful as it is practical. They're known for their modern designs. We've edited a list of some of our favorite gift ideas from CB2 so you'll know just what to get.

    Galactic Jewelry Box ($21)

    This jewelry box is not only a place to store your jewels, but it looks like one itself. “Designed by UK-based Seascape Curiosities, the jewelry box brings deep space to your room. Open storage space lined with light grey cotton velvet holds most-precious possessions,” CB2 states. The best part? It's under $25.

    Flamingo Catchall ($29.95)

    Designed by the British fashion designer Matthew Williamson, this flamingo catchall is a pop of color in every room and offers a secure place to store some of your favorite rings, earrings, or little items. Not only is it an awesome addition to just about any home, it's also a great conversation starter at dinner parties.

    Heritage Navy Leather Activity Ball ($49)

    It's a great gift for the man in your life who loves sports. Crafted with design and function in mind, handmade activity ball (think of it as a smaller basketball) stands up to years of play and even gets better looking with age. It's a super addition to any bookshelf.

    Black Nickel Cocktail Shaker ($24.95)

    This cocktail shaker starts off with a smoky black finish and fades into grey. It's fashionable, functional, and — above all — easy to clean.

    Which tablet computer should YOU be buying: They are this year's must have ... and there's a style to suit everyone.

    For many, music is as important to the human experience as eating and breathing. We hear music everywhere—at home, the gym, parties and stores. But what kind of music do we prefer to listen to, and when and why do our musical preferences change?

    The relationship between the change of seasons and musical preferences was the focus of a study led by psychologist Terry Pettijohn. He and his team based their research on a previous study that examined the relationship between popular music preferences and the Environmental Security Hypothesis(假设). The results showed that over time, when social and financial conditions were more risky, the songs of the year that were slower, longer, more comforting and serious were most popular. And during periods in which social and financial conditions were generally stable, the result was opposite.

    Building on these findings, Pettijohn and his team wondered if the Hypothesis could also be applied to the change of seasons. For college students, the participants in this study, autumn begins at the start of the school year. Gone are the carefree days of summer, when school is out. Winter means colder temperatures, shorter days, and, in many places in the country, snow. Spring, however, is a different story. It represents a fresh start and when clocks spring forward, we gain an extra hour of daylight. As students walk into summer, they're absorbed in the sunshine and social activities—and enjoy a break from school.

    But do changing seasonal conditions influence musical preferences? To answer this question, the researchers designed two studies. What did they find? Both groups of college students favored more serious music during the seasons of fall and winter, and more active and energetic music during the spring and summer seasons. And these findings, Pettijohn argues, have practical significances.

    I've recently published a book of letters from 32 amazing Australian women about their experiences of new motherhood. Perhaps the most common question I've been asked since publication is why more of the mothers didn't ask for help. If those early months were so hard and so exhausting as they were described, then why didn't more of these women simply ask for help?

Embedded (把……牢牢地嵌入) deep in this enquiry is the assumption that if you ask, you shall receive—and that you shall receive without judgment. And if there is any experience of new motherhood in the 21^st century it is the inescapability of judgment. By asking for help new mothers open themselves up to a wave of quiet—and not-so-quiet—disapproval of why on earth they need it.

    The earliest moments of motherhood are synonymous with sacrifice(等同于牺牲). A mother sacrifices her body for not nine but almost ten long months, sharing her shell with a new being. A mother sacrifices her control, and often her mental and physical health, during the painful process of childbirth. A mother, in the weeks and months that follow, puts the needs of another before her own, sacrificing her sense of self, her ambition and all too often, her happiness.

    We don't normally use the word sacrifice to describe the newborn period. It's supposed to be sweet and milky and warm but a sacrifice is exactly what it is. And when we sacrifice we should be entitled (使享有权利) to mourn—a privilege new mothers are expressly prevented from.

    We have reached the point where being a mother who admits she needs help is like saying your child isn't worth the sacrifice. The suffering has become a badge(徽章) of honor, worn in service to your family.

    The role of mothering is not an easy one, nor will it ever be. But it could be made more manageable if we were all to offer help or support.

    After I mastered my first concerto (协奏曲) at the age of 14, my parents decided to get me a nice violin. I tried out dozens of instruments before I found my match: a German violin. It was beautiful, but what I liked best about it was its voice. Confident and strong, it was everything I longed to be.

    I'm not sure how much that violin cost, but my parents made me promise never to let it out of my sight. They didn't understand that pulling a large violin case ran counter to my daily middle school task of not being noticed. I was a strange, absent-minded kid. When I spoke up in class, my comments brought confused silence from teachers and wild laughter from students. Like a deer in a wolf pack, I tried to be quiet and still.

    However, my new violin was almost shockingly loud. Together, we were much louder than the rest of my middle school orchestra—which was encouraged, since the other kids made sounds like cats' crying. For one wonderful hour every day, I was showered with attention. Everyone wanted to hear what I had to say.

    Between classes, I bent under the combined weight of my violin case and a backpack filled with books. My body suffered, but my confidence grew. With my violin by my side, I found my voice. More and more, I contributed to class discussions and even made a couple of friends.

    Today, I'm just an excellent violinist with a regular day job. As I sit in my community orchestra, sometimes I feel jealous (嫉妒的) of my fellow musicians' instruments with their elegant voices. I may not be the best violinist around, but at least I'm still the loudest.

Natural selection is the process by which one type of animal within a species develops well because of certain characteristics that make it more likely to live than others in its group. The history of the peppered moth(桦尺蛾) is an example of the natural selection process.

In nineteenth-century England, certain types of peppered moths were able to better blend (融合) into their surroundings. During that time period, great changes were happening in Great Britain. The Industrial Revolution was part of this change, and with it came air pollution. Natural selection usually takes hundreds or even thousands of years to occur. For the peppered moth, this process occurred relatively quickly .

At the beginning of the Industrial Age, most peppered moths in England were light-coloured and covered with black markings, although a few moths had dark-coloured wings. Because the light-coloured moths blended into the light-coloured bar k on the trees, they could not be easily seen by birds that would eat them. As the air grew more polluted, however, tree trunks (树干) became covered with soot (煤烟) and became darker. The light-coloured moths became easy for birds to see against the dark tree trunks. Since the dark-coloured moths now had the advantage, their numbers grew. Within 50 years, the peppered moth went from being mostly light-coloured to being mostly dark-coloured.

In the twentieth century, the air cleared up, and the peppered moth population changed again. As tree trunks lightened due to less soot in the air, light-coloured moths once again had an advantage. Their numbers increased as soot levels declined. Depending on their environment, the colouration of the moths helped them to be "naturally selected" to survive.