My daughter is obsessed with mermaids. During morning cuddles Sunday I asked her what shape she wanted her pancakes. Usually she says S but this past week she said, “Mermaid!” Are you sure you don’t want a bunny? I tried to persuade her. Nope. She wanted a mermaid. You know this isn’t going to end well, right? Luckily she loved her mermaid. Personally I though the fix came out looking like an alien or a dude with dreadlocks like Jason Momoa on Stargate: Atlantis as Ronon Dex.
A to Z Blogging Challenge.
Losing. Is it always a bad thing? I don’t believe it is.
So far in two weeks of my new L.E.A.N. Mommy program I have lost 3.4 pounds. Not to bad.
I tried to think of other things I like to lose.
I would love to lose:
- My love handles.
- Toxic relationships.
- Bad habits like cussing at bad drivers. The toddler is starting to mimic all I do and this is going to be bad.
- The one sock so it can go to wherever its mate is and live happily ever after.
- My distaste for cilantro and mushrooms since they are put in everything nowadays.
- My attitude towards people who have an attitude towards me. I’m like a mirror but need to be more like a ray of sunlight and burn their eyes with my love.
- My gray hair. It only comes in on top and sides. Either go all gray or go away.
- My debt. I would feel ten times happier and lighter if I wasn’t in so much debt.
- My inability to whistle. Seriously. How can a person not be able to whistle? Am I a subpar human?
- One or two of my extra chins. A person really only needs one.
- Little toy people. If I step on Cinderella or a goat one more time, I will throw them all away! My daughter is obsessed with carrying around as many little animals and princesses as possible. Drives me insane.
- My watch. I would love to live the carefree life where time is a non-issue. Perhaps when I retire to an island.
What would you like to lose?
A to Z blogging challenge.
I was wondering where people got the idea of juggling. Was some Egyptian sitting in line to talk to the King and King Tut said he was bored so the dude jumped up and started juggling some earthenware? Turns out I wasn’t too far off. The earliest know depiction of ball juggling is from the 15th Beni Hassan tomb of an unknown prince in Egypt(1994-1781 BCE). I bet that guy was the Egyptian Adam Sandler.
It shows up through the years in various countries: China(swords and balls), Greece, Rome (glass balls – Ow! That would be quite the learning curve), Ireland (apples), India(wooden rings), etc.
Cinquevalli trick. From ”The Playgoer” October 1901
A few facts I learned in my digging:
Tulchinne, the royal buffoon of king Conaire of Ireland, is described as juggling nine swords, nine silver shields, and nine balls of gold. Now, I don’t want to call anyone a liar but I am Irish and I fully admit exaggeration is in our DNA. Perhaps we got it from this buffoon. I can’t imagine anyone being able to juggle all that with two hands.
Taillefer, the warrior-bard of William of Normandy, juggles before the enemy lines and makes the first kill at the Battle of Hastings. How did that work? Who wants to go first? Ian? William? Why don’t we send out the clown first? Yea! Send Taillefer first. He will do anything. Tell him we double dog dare him.
In 1793, John Bill Ricketts present America’s first circus. George Washington was in attendance and Ricketts introduced the idea of politic juggling to him. Ok. Ricketts just juggled but I bet the politicians were like “Hey, I just thought of what to call what we do in government. We take citizen’s balls and juggle them.” <- I made that part up, too.
Paul Cinquevalli (1859-1918) was the first juggling super-star. He made his circus debut in 1885 in Covent Garden, London. However, Enrico Rastelli was considered the greatest juggler to ever live. He is recorded as juggling 10 balls (though never 9 for some reason – I could not find out why), 8 sticks (small clubs) and 8 plates. Rastelli could juggle 6 plates, while spinning a hoop around one foot and skipping a rope which was spun by an assistant. I can’t walk and chew gum at the same time. I feel so inferior. Perhaps I misjudged poor Tulchinne and he could do all that juggling.
A to Z Blogging Challenge.
My friend’s rabbit just had babies. I quickly wrote a comment to her post about their birth.
“My advice as a former child rabbit raiser. Do not touch the babies unless the momma is super comfortable with you. If the momma would allow you to hold/cuddle/pet her pre-babies, try to pet her first. If she does not allow you to pet her, do not go near the babies. If she lets you pet her, pet her for awhile to get plenty of her scent on your hands and then touch the baby. Rabbits are super sensitive to smells on their babies and will think nothing of killing and eating them for something as simple as a different scent on them. Experience talking. I have seen things. For me, Monty Python got the rabbit right. Besides in a few weeks when they don’t look like hairless rats they are even cuter. ”
Afterwards, I chuckled and thought “Wow! I know a ton about rabbit husbandry.” My next thought was about the word husbandry. Isn’t it a weird word? I had never given it much thought and suddenly I had so many questions.
What does it mean? According to Dictionary.com:
Husbandry [huhz-buh n-dree] Noun
1. the cultivation and production of edible crops or of animals for food; agriculture; farming.
2. the science of raising crops or food animals.
3. careful or thrifty management; frugality, thrift, or conservation.
4. the management of domestic affairs or of resources generally.
I had always believed it basically meant a midwife for animals. Technically my thought appears to be a small part of the meaning of the word. The addition of all the thrifty and management details is completely new to me.
The science dictionary says it is “The application of scientific principles to agriculture, especially to animal breeding.” This tells me in practice the word is pretty much synonyms with midwifery only for animals.
Where does it come from? I love some etymology in the morning! From etymonline.com:
Husbandry c.1300, “management of a household;”
late 14c. as “farm management,” from husband (n.) in a now-obsolete sense of “peasant farmer” (early 13c.) + -ery.
Why husbandry when it is usually the wife who deals with birth stuff? It appears the midwife is defined as the one dealing with the birth of children. Husbandry started out meaning the men dealing with the birth of the animals on the farm. I guess it makes sense since women dealt with what happens in the house and the men dealt with the crops and animals in the division of middle age labor. Of course, that was when the men weren’t busy fighting Vikings while the women mucked stalls, milked goats, assisted in cow births while birthing a baby.