Mother’s Got A Dot Com

… say he had 2. If each of these had 2 children, and so on, down the generations for roughly 2000 years, there would be something like 16 billion people alive today, with ancestry dna traceable back to Jesus.

This, of course, would be true of any couple living in those days. Luckily for our planet, it doesn’t happen that way. War, the Black Plague, the Spanish Flu, bad hygiene, more war – all these things have made sure that we’re now a measly 6 billion people.

Theoretically, though, we’re all related to Jesus Christ – and to any old couple who lived back in the day. And to each other, come to think of it.

Hello, cousins!!!!!

If you’re entitled to some stately benefit, and the same state administers the rules as well as the payouts, chances are that you’ll miss out. There’s also a very real chance that the next guy (you know him, he’s got very pointed elbows, and know his way around government agencies), who’s less obviously entitled than yourself, gets all his benefits, and more.

This is true for social security disability payments in this country, and it seems, also in the US. Here, David has to fight Goliath on his own, which David rarely does. He can’t afford a lawyer. In the US, there are instances that can help. Allsup is one such agency, and according to themselves, their success rate is phaenomenal.

I know people here who fall between the rules, and have to go to the social services for what they (and social workers) percieve as handouts, although they’re very really unable to provide for themselves. A service to counteract this is necessary in this country too. Even though you have to pay, there is a maximum fee, and it comes off the sum awarded. Which is a much better deal than using a lawyer who charges you continuously.

I believe in fending for yourself, but I also believe that if you’re unable to do so, you should have the right to a worthy existence. Without having to beg for it for years, while not being well in the first place.

Summer is upon us. Tentatively, at least. The horses are on holiday – they were sent off to green pastures the other day. Two of them have gone off to be summer camp horses, we’ll see how that goes. The Brats will soon all be on holiday too, which, for me, means more of same old, only with 6 brats 24/7, and without the break of having 5 of them in school during the day…

With summer comes a recurring phaenomenon here at Brat Camp home base. The old name of our area is Iron Valley. This has a reason. It used to be a place where iron was extracted. We draw our water from far down in the rock, and there’s always a hint of iron in it, but in the summer it becomes very apparent. Our faucets clog up, and we have to dismantle them every now and then to remove iron fragments from the filters. I’m guessing that we’ll have to replace them one by one, as the clogging up takes its toll. I’ve thought of putting in something upmarket, like Kohler faucets, but to be honest, I don’t think it would matter. I’d end up having to replace them too, and be beating myself up for not having put in something cheaper.

The lambs are growing – shoot, I promised pictures. They’ll be let out soon – they’re big enough now to not go through the fence. Pictures, I said. Well, I haven’t been able to upload any for some time, as Firefox crashes every time I try. Does anyone know why that is?

I’m working in IE right now, and I’d rather not, but at least I can upload pictures, as this Miracle Boy self-portrait shows.

I’ve finally found time to take a trip to the cabin this weekend – turning the heating off is, if nothing else, an economical thing to do. Even up there, the danger of frozen pipes has somewhat subsided by now. Alone? No. 3 Brats will be in tow. And my cousin is coming, possibly bringing another 2. Oh, joy!

Since I’ve shared my little domestic woes with you all, I thought I’d bring you up to date with the geysir situation. (For the uninitiated: I’ve had trouble with my water heater gushing hot water on and off for quite some time. Nothing has helped. I’ve had a pressure valve replaced, I’ve given the whole pressure tank system a going over, I’ve had a hose attached to the **** thing to minimize the damage, I’ve listened to more ABBA tunes on plumbers’ phone services than most of you have had hot dinners. To no avail. No one has been able to tell me what was wrong).

Plumber alert is off. Theory # 1 is back in circulation. What, say you, is Theory # 1? Well, it has to do with #6Brat, strangely enough. As the hose on the pressure valve got totally out of control the other day, and I had to turn the heater off completely, I also turned the water intake to the thing off. And what happened when I was half way? No more gushing. I turned the electricity back on, had my shower, and came back to check the situation – nothing. It seems like Theory # 1, involving #6Brat and his busy little fingers, must have been right all along. The water valve is just at 2-year-old-level (must have been designed by a man), and fairly easy to twist.

As of now, I’m holding my thumbs, and I’ve taped the knob stuck in it’s current position. Just like the freezer thermostat, the knobs on the DVD and VHS players, TV and stereo system. And the stove. This place looks like an ad for packageing tape. The only problem is that I don’t have a remote control for the stove, so I have to unwrap it every time.

Oh, well. I hope he’ll gain some sense as he grows older.

I don’t seem to have much to say to the world these days. I think I may be in the grips of some sort of depression – and that’s all I’m going to say on the matter. Which, of course, is probably part of the problem. A session with a shrink, in my case, would be a rather quiet hour. Might be nice, actually – a whole hour to think things through, without interruptions.
Businesswise, things are not too bad. I have my share of home parties, and I earn a nice little bundle every time. I think this is something I’m going to be doing for some time, so I’ve ordered some business cards. The custom rubber stamps I’ve been using so far are fine for filling out order forms, but it’s nice to be able to annoy people by giving them useless pieces of paper…

I also do translation and proofreading work to the tune of 6-700$ per month, which is not too bad, and it pays the electricity bill. Hubby is working far too much, and getting far too little reward for what he’s doing, so every little bit helps.

Summer holiday? Don’t think so. Hubby will be lucky if he manages to get every other weekend off. Right now, life sucks quite a bit. The Brats are rays of sunshine though. Just thought I’d mention it.

It’s been a busy month so far. Getting #1Brat home from school, hubby starting his summer work-marathon (6 or seven day weeks, 10 hours a day), May 17. (National Day), planning a surprise-party for my uncle’s 60th birthday on the 21st, a confirmation to go to tomorrow, and trying (to no avail, as it turned out today) to figure out why the **** the water-heater can’t stop gushing water all over the place. It probably won’t stop until it’s electrocuted someone, and as I’m usually the one standing bare-foot in water, scratching my head and touching all sorts of knobs, I’m the likely candidate.

Oh, yes, and we invited 8 people over for a barbecue this evening. I hope they won’t need a shower, because I’m planning to turn the **** thing off as soon as I’ve had mine. We thought we had it sussed, you see. But that only worked until the next time plumbers took a day off (today). I wonder what plumbers do the rest of the week? Nothing ever breaks or leaks on Monday – Friday. Not in the houses of anyone I know, anyway.

And now it’s clouding over. As if we haven’t got enough water indoors… Never mind, we’ve barbecued in pouring rain before. It’s just a question of taking a stand, and sticking to it. Your back gets drenched, as the parasol has to cover the actual barbecue, but whatever – it’s summer in Norway. Gotta love it.

The following is a surrepticious link – mesothelioma. Not something I like to blog about – or even think about. Yes, we’re all going one way or another, but I think I’d rather be electrocuted by a water heater. If at all possible though – not this week, Ô Grim Reaper.

We’ve had quite a controversy in this country lately, regarding gay marriage/sperm donation to lesbian couples/kids growing up in gay families.

The reason was that some christian philosopher took it upon herself to publish a book where she, among many other things, put forward her belief that kids growing up in gay families had a severe handicap, and that everyone should have the right to a father. For this, she received a prize – the “Free Word Prize”, that’s given to people who dare put forward controversial thoughts.

Commendable, I’m sure. It’s just that most members of the gay community here took this prize as an endorsement of the woman’s opinions. And who can blame them.

Everyone is entitled to an opinion. There are, however, no restrictions on empathy or good behaviour. When you’re on a state payroll (which she is), can put “philosopher” in front of your name, and your words carry some weight in certain circles, you should know better than to stigmatise a whole group of children. (The adults can take it. They’ve been taking it for generations. But their children have deserved better).

I’ve never understood, though, that gay sexuality is something that everyone needs to have an opinion about. What I do behind closed doors is nobody’s business, as long as it doesn’t involve kids or animals. My straight sex life is supposedly harmless to my kids. If I were gay, and had a loving partner, it would be different, for some reason that I can’t fathom. In that case, everyone would have the right to peer between my sheets, or at least have an opinion on what they think happens there, and how it (negatively) impacts my children.

I’ve been hit on by lesbians on numerous occasions, and have had to decline. Every time, I’ve felt sad for them. Being straight, looking for a partner is difficult enough, but dead easy, really. We can safely assume that close to 50% of the population is a candidate, if gender is the only criteria. Gay people face obstacles that I would have found terribly hard to overcome. And, contrary to popular belief, gender/inclination is not the only criteria.

When I first heard about gay vacations, I thought: whatever for? Why do they have to stigmatise themselves? Why can’t we all live and let live? I don’t have the answer, but I’m guessing that a lot of gay people have to live with the condemnation of their neighbours on a daily basis. Whether it’s being expressed or not, there is a staggering amount of homophobia about. People in general don’t live and let live. Going on holiday with people who face the same problems that you do, and who don’t judge you, is probably what it means to get away from it all… Also, going somewhere where there are only gay people, must increase the chance of finding someone, someone who might be partner potential.

I’m quite certain that being gay means just the same as being straight, when it comes to love. I wish the judgmental bigots would try to remember that. All most straight people want, is a partner who loves them, whom they love back, and with whom they would consider spending large portions of their life – if possible the rest of it. Most gay people want exactly the same thing.

Done with the research. Boy, was that enlightening. And very, very scary.

My first thought when I saw the words Colonix reviews, was: A new Asterix comic book!

Great! I’ve got them all. Ever since my childhood in France, I’ve chuckled at the names of the characters. In French, they all end in -ix. Assurancetourix (All risk insurance), Aplusbégalix (a+b=x), Panoramix (Panoramic), and so on and so forth.

Colonix, however, was a new one… A Gall with Irritable Bowel Syndrome, perhaps?

What’s more, I was way off the mark. Try googling it, and see all the scary stuff that turns up. With pictures. One guy recorded his experiences during weeks of using the stuff. With pictures. And we’re talking colonic cleansing here, people.

Is the poking and probing compulsory? Or is just flushing the normal way acceptable behaviour? I don’t think I dare find out. By the way – the review isn’t very good.

It seems that my partner in blogging, who provides me with a regular flow of keywords to blog about, has got a spasmodic problem.

This is not a) a medical blog or b) a diet blog. I only very casually touch on health issues – and I mostly do it to complain. You know – about aching joints, saggy skin, other saggy things – whatever my ever-increasing age throws at me.

Dieting is of very little interest to me. I can stretch to nutrition, but I don’t want to get too healthy, as the homes for the elderly are such undignified places in this country, that I really want to kick the bucket before anyone feels the need to put me in one.

The spasmodic problem of my blogging partner? The ever recurring best diet pill. I could probably just pop the keywords in anywhere, and go about my ramblings as usual, but I have this thing about delivering the goods. So now I’ve done it. Please excuse me now, while I go and do some research on the next weird word constellation.

I couldn’t resist these:

They’re in a hurry, too, cos this is where they’re going:

- A personal favorite:

(The white text reads: There’s always room for more.”)

And the good advice/clear instructions section:

I’m at loss on that last one. Is it “No swimming”, “No kicking” or “Do not fall asleep with one foot in the bowl”???

How about this one, varieties of which can be seen in this country: “This is where Herv parks. Herv has a crowbar. Any car found obstructing this space wil be taken apart and sold to Poland.”.