Gaaah. I stumbled onto the Moberly-Jourdain incident Wiki page via Triablogue this afternoon…. twenty pages of paranormal incidents, mutilated bovines, Bent Spoon Awards and Harry Houdini later and I am feeling thoroughly creeped out. Let me talk of mundaner things.
Right, so, as for today’s challenge.
- Do something I’ve been putting off
I cleaned out the chickens’ cage. Fun stuff. The snortlepig availed herself of this opportunity to a) chase the chickens, b) corner Bridget in the cage with a handful of proffered grain, which Bridget failed to take in the (albeit somewhat aggressively) friendly spirit in which it was offered - after hurtling back and forth in the corner for a good five minutes she made a dash for it - c) stand in the chickens’ water bowl and swish her foot around and d) sit down plump in the middle of the cage, skungying her perfectly nice trousies.
- Do something potentially money-making (ie. queries, Suite articles)
Um. I wrote part of a Suite article. Well. 28 words. Is cord blood banking linked to anaemia in neonates? Stay tuned.
- Do something domestically goddessy/Oosewifesome
Ooh, yus. I made triple-chocolate muffins for Helpdesk Man (which, come to think of it, are still sitting out on the bench - he’ll have to come with me to wrap them up though, or the ghost of the Bermuda Triangle will nip down Hanging Rock and suck me into a timeslip). And we had arty rice-stuffed pumpkin for dinner again, although Helpdesk Man helped to make them, so I’m not sure that counts. And I cut out two legs for the dude’s pyjamas before panicking and wondering if double-layered polar fleece is overkill even for winter, and… there’s a psychic manifestation behind my head. I don’t like it. Stop it, psychic manifestation. No, it’s the chicken calendar on the wall. Good heavens above, but that’s a creepy chicken calendar now I come to look at it.
- And do something outside.
Also yus! If the chicken-cleaning incident didn’t count (and it doesn’t; no double-ups), I also did some mowing, and went for a walk to the public gardens with my eminent ancestors, and picked Helpdesk Man up from work and walked him to the supermarket and back home. A woman accosted me in the supermarket to ask about limes; I have a feeling she thought I worked there, which is somewhat depressing as I was wearing my nicest outfit. I need new clothes.
Speaking of which. Tomorrow the snortlepig’s great-grandmother (!) is entering the country, and I am going up with Mamma to see her in. How I’ll manage to do oosewifey, outdoorsy, money-making long-procrastinated things while sitting in the van playing with the snortlepig’s toes I do not know, but we shall see.
Also? Speaking of strange and unusual phenomena… watch this. And just imagine the frustrated lives the perpetrators would have led in pre-video camera days.