Sunday, June 04, 2006

Word of the Day

FERMANTRA - A note held over and over and over and over and . . .

It's been a pretty lazy day here in Wisconsin. Of course, I did all of the usual things that I do each day. I even went a bit beyond that and plunked a few more seeds into my garden to make up for the slow/no sprouters. Then, since it was such a beautiful day, I decided that reading a book would be a total waste of the day. So, off I went, up the road, armed with a bucket (one never knows when a bucket might come in handy) and wearing a hat to discourage the deerflies. I was wearing capris and sandals but I was smart enough to wear a long-sleeved shirt. I picked two cups of gooseberries, tangled with mosquitoes and nettles, and decided to retreat, ignoring my naked and itching ankles. Scatching one's itching ankles only worsens the itch of mosquito bites and nettles. Next time I go out I plan to wear socks, hiking boots, and a sturdy pair of jeans AND spray myself down with bug dope. I may even bring along some weed-killer to shoot the nettles with. I really hate nettles. And mosquitoes. I will go back out to pick more wild gooseberries. But not today. Maybe tomorrow. One may ask what I plan to do with wild gooseberries. These aren't the smooth gooseberries that one can make into pie. OK. My Grandmother used to use them in pies but they were a bit scratchy on the throat as they went down. You had to chew each bit really well or each swallow would be rather painful. These wild gooseberries come armed with barbs. The barbs aren't too bad. But they're a bit scratchy to pick. I wouldn't make gooseberry jam out of them either. Same problem. Scratchy to eat. So why am I picking wild gooseberries? Wine. I want to pick enough to make a batch of rhubarb/gooseberry wine. I need to pick another six cups. Tomorrow. Maybe tomorrow. With the proper armor, I should be able to pick another six cups of prickly gooseberries for wine-making.

Murphyism of the Day

Haldane's Law

The universe is not only queerer than we imagine, it's queerer than we can imagine.

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