notes from
the MUCK . . .

How does your garden grow? With muck, muck and more muck! I spent much of today finishing the final muck box and then shifting muck from one box to the next. The first box, which the Big Lad is enthusiastically pointing out, has been rotting down for two years now and once we’d removed the top quarter of unrotted material, we found we’d hit the pay dirt.

Monday, December 04, 2006

Not On Our Watch

Everyone has to have a purpose, otherwise they don't feel needed, and if they don't feel needed, they don't feel valued, and if they don't feel valued they write a horrible autobiography entitled My Story or Behind the Laughter. Me, I have a purpose. I recently received JAWS Unleashed where you get to be the shark. Enough said. However, we here at the Muck don't want this to happen to you, our valued reader, so we're going to give you a reason to get out of bed (unless you look at your laptop in bed).

Since 1966 the people of Gavle, Sweden, have annually erected a giant goat for the Christmas holidays. In 40 years, 10 have made it past 25th of December. Sometimes the thing only lasts a few hours before someone burns it down. We don't know who does this, or why, but a spokeswoman from the town confidentally boasted that it was a phenomenon consigned to history, stating that;

No-one is going to get our goat this year.

Why so gutsy? A waterproof, flame proof coating. And a webcam to look and see if anyone's up to no good. Here's where we come in. I reckon between us we may have most time zones covered and I'm sure we have the collective time to spare. I'm even going to give up precious chomping time because I feel sorry for these people. On 30 occasions they've woken up, bleary eyed, hoping and praying that their goat has not been scorched, only for these dreams to go the same way as the goat. The sound of thousands of shoulders slumping in resigned despair could be avoided here.

Also, I used to have this massive dog type stuffed toy; it was maybe 8 feet tall. It was very ugly, green, acrylic, and very itchy. One time my family were making a bonfire and it was suggested this creature be added as fuel. I refused. I was persuaded to let it's tail burn, just to see if it would. It did. "Ok" I said, "It burns, enough, let's get it out". We never did get it out. I stood and watched it burn up. If it had been simply thrown out I may have been able to deal with this, it would just have been in a different place. But the image of this thing being consumed by the fire stays with me, and I like to remind my mum of this episode on a regular basis. Granted, I'd only played with it twice, it was ugly as sin, and it took up a lot of room. But I it had been a good hurdle when I played with it, and also a good barricade. Also, soon after this sacrifice, I got into Wrestling. Jumping on to, or being jumped on by my best friend from my bunk bed was often sore and uncomfortable, I often stop to think of the moves I would have been safely able to perform on the oversized beast and what angst this satisfying exercise would've saved me in my adult years. Sadly now, that's all academic.

But we can save the goat. Any suspicious movements, report in comments.