Just the fact that I made that statement today means that my life is filled with 36 flavors of awesomeness. Aren't you jealous? You should be. Not many people can use the words 'convent' and 'tattoo parlor' in the same sentence in general conversation. My mom's cousin is a nun and has been now for almost 50 years. When I was little, I idolized her and wanted to be a nun, just like she was. Of course, the fact that I was a little Lutheran girl as well as the fact that the only Catholic stuff I knew was what my mom taught me from her years in a Catholic elementary school, which consisted of "Hail Mary, full of grace, washed her hands and forgot her face," which I'm pretty sure isn't even doctrine. Anyway, flash forward 35 years, I got over the wanting to be a nun thing, but became reacquainted with Sister GeorgeEllen. Through a bizarre series of events, she moved to Hawaii on the very day that I moved away from the Aloha State, but she's now up in Wisconsin on home visit, staying in a convent only 25 miles from my house. So today we arranged to meet up after so many years. As long as I was heading in that direction, Angel #2 asked that I drop her off at the tattoo parlor, her boyfriend was getting a tattoo and she wanted to be there for moral support. We had a little problem finding the place, and I really question the wisdom of getting permanent body art done at a place called Stinky's Tattoo Parlor, but hey, it's not my back getting inked. Eventually, we found it, but I was late getting to the convent, which necessitated me making the statement above.
I got a full on tour of the convent, I'd never been to one before and have only been to a Catholic church for a handful of weddings and funerals, so it was an interesting experience. The convent itself is almost 200 years old and looks like a big old castle with gorgeous wood carvings inside. I got to see the kitchens, infirmary, library, etc and met both the former and present Mother Superiors. Very interesting. After the convent tour, we went to a public garden right on the shore of Lake Michigan and afterwards, went out to eat. Of course, the obvious place to go to eat with a 70 year old nun is Taco Bell, where we pigged out on burritos and gorditas. During the entire 5 hour visit, we talked constantly and had a wonderful time. We've decided that we're going to get together again next year when she's back on home visit.
In farming news, we had another weird egg today. This one didn't have a shell, the inside egg goo was just floating around inside the membrane. It was all floppy like a water balloon and looked utterly disgusting. It went directly into the compost pile. Life with chickens just leads from one adventure to another.