About two weeks ago, I watched a fascinating documentary. It was about these Swedish twins named Ursula and Sabina Eriksson who hurled themselves into traffic on the motorway in 2008. The story is quite long and involved so I’m not going to explain it to you in detail. In brief, they ran out in front of speeding cars, but miraculously survived. When discharged from the hospital Sabina stabbed a man to death and then jumped from a bridge onto another busy road. She broke both ankles and fractured her skull. You can read all about it here.
Anyway, when she was prosecuted for her crimes she received several psychiatric evaluations. One of her diagnosis was that she had a puff of madness–meaning she was mad for a short time, but now she’s fine. Can you believe that? You could use that excuse for almost anything.
“Sorry, about that. I just had a puff of madness.”
“You didn’t take me seriously when I said that, did you? I was having a puff of madness at the time so I really didn’t mean it.”
If she could get only five years in jail for killing a man because she had a puff of madness, I should be able to get out of a few small mistakes using the same excuse.
About six months ago I decided that when I finally owned my own house I would get some chickens and a goat. This may be shocking to some of you considering my general fear of animals, especially animals that flap, hop or have horizonally slit pupils like the devil.
All of this aside, I thought goats and chickens could be a good addition to our household. We could have free eggs whenever we wanted and I like egg. We could also have free milk for making kefir and yogurt and butter and cheese and whatever else I can make with milk. I even picked out the ideal goat breed. Nigerian dwarf goats would be my goats of choice. They’re suppose to get make enough milk to feed a family and they’re small. I would have two. They would need to keep each other company.
My passion for raising goats has waned recently. Not because I realized I’d have to milk them every day–imagine me milking a goat–or because I’d have to clean up after them, or because they’re smelly and they make that goat noise all the time, but because I tasted some goat yogurt.
I bought some goat yorgurt. I like to try new things. We can eat some yogurt on out exciting Candida diet to try to get some probiotic into our systems. We can also have a moderate amount of grains so the other day I had oatmeal for breakfast. I mixed it with some goat yogurt and blueberries. Ladies and gentlemen, don’t try this at home. It was disgusting. Goats don’t make the same nice tastey yogurt like that cows do. Instead, goat milk makes something similar to goat cheese. Goat cheese is good, but it’s not good in your oatmeal.
Anyway, I’ve had it in for goats ever since they ruined my oatmeal. I’ve decided there will be no goats for me because I just can’t put up with that kind of unpredictability in my dairy products.
I’m still considering chickens. I’ve recently found out that you can tell what color eggs a hen will produce by looking at her earlobes. I didn’t even know chickens had earlobes. Maybe they have lips too.
Ever since I was a teenager I had this grand idea in my head that I would learn how to make books by hand. I wanted to make books that featured my poetry and photography. Each book would be handmade and unique and I’d sell them in museum shops and little art stores.
Today on another blog I saw this video and it reminded me of that idea. Isn’t the idea of making a book fascinating. Maybe not to you, but to me it definitely is.
In an alternate reality what job would you be doing? Some people wonder about things like this. I’ve tried all kinds of different jobs and I’m pretty sure that my personality is most suited to being independently wealthy and waited on by servants. This post isn’t about me though. It’s about someone else.
Apparently, the musicians in this area wonder about what their jobs would be in alternate realities too. There’s a list that gets passed around that suggests possible alternative professions for area musicians. It’s good to have options in case the whole music thing doesn’t work out.
My husband recently saw the list and of course he was on it. His suggested profession is rodeo cowboy. He seems a bit disappointed by this, but I think its perfect. I can picture him in a cowboy hat and boots.
Times are economically tough, or at least that’s what I keep hearing. In these lean times, holiday shopping may be stretching the budget a bit. You still want to give Uncle Louie a present, but you can’t really afford to splash out on a bottle of Old Spice again this year. Don’t fret. I have the perfect solution. Try donating some fake money to a fake charity in Uncle Louie’s name. It’s a win win situation. Some fake people get help for their fake problem. Uncle Louie gets a fake present. You both have a laugh and best of all your money stays in your wallet. Isn’t that what the holidays are all about? Check out this link to find out more.
