This morning at breakfast Aurelle told me what she thought about chicken breeders.

"Why do people think they are smarter than God when it comes to chickens? I love Blueberry but he can't see the food in front of his face." It's true. Silkies have been bred to have an enormous amount of feathers on their heads such that I cannot see his eyes when he is in my lap. It makes him timid about exploring which is why when we take him outside he stands exactly where you put him. For hours. To get him to find his food cup I stir it around so he can hear it. We love him but I think someone sacrificed his ability to enjoy life just a tad. We have to shield him from the other chickens because he is defenseless and they know it.

Blueberry wasn't always alone. His two siblings Athena and Miracle were more adventurous, with less ostentatious hair fluff, and escaped their pen. They became hawk lunch. Hence Blueberry is alone all day, until we snuggle him. But we love him. 

Fashions around beauty sometimes lead women to change the way they look. The hairstyles of the seventies make Blueberry look normal. I saw a display of wedding dresses from the turn of the century and the waists were ridiculously small.

Corsets. No seconds on ice cream for those ladies. 

My twins are reading a book about foot binding and we had an animated discussion about that feature of Chinese history.

The girls are still deciding about a personal physical change they might make. I asked if they wanted to pierce their ears for their thirteenth birthday. One (who shall remain nameless) said no. The other said yes. While I would be fine with different choices, they are not. 

I have heard rumblings of s shift in favor of holes, so we might make a trip to the mall this weekend. 

But I don't think it will impede their ability to have seconds on ice cream.