Tell that to my late aunt who, back in the 50s, was preparing some farm-fresh eggs… when into the frying pan plopped a fully-formed chick. She totally freaked out, and went running out of the house and down the street, wearing nothing but a revealing negligee.
I have an asparagus patch in my back yard. One year I got an official notice from a city inspector, citing me for “tall, noxious weeds” on my property. Instead of removing them and paying the fine, I had to educate the city inspectors on the nature of the asparagus plant.
And Nava: In the spring, asparagus “spears” come out of the ground, and can be cut down and eaten. If left alone, they grow into magnificent “ferns”, a few feet high. The male ferns contain red berries, which are eaten by birds, whose poop spreads asparagus seeds. The original roots remain underground, and sprout again next spring.
I’ve seen the verse in a recent songbook as, “And we’ll all have cake and ice cream when she comes!”
I once substitute taught in a third grade classroom, and the students were horrified when they read a story about a boy who had helped an injured eagle which eventually recovered and promptly killed a rabbit. The kids were horrified, and several said that all eagles should be killed to protect rabbits. :eek: Fortunately they were distracted when I mentioned my father (who’s a birdwatcher). “You (an adult) have a father?” Turns out none of the kids knew their grandparents were their parents’ parents, and were eager to prove me wrong by asking these “friends of mommy and daddy” if they were really relatives. (Sadly, I wasn’t there the next day.)
In another classroom, I taught photosynthesis to fourth graders. One boy said, “You mean, when we eat plants, it’s like we’re eating sunshine? Ewww!” A number of kids agreed with him. (I didn’t mention meat.)
once read a book in which the author, a veterianrian, described how, as a child, he became a vegetarian.
Okay, this guy was an adult before WWII started, so I’m assuming he was born in the early 1900’s. His father(the family was well off) was a hardnosed authority figure. When the boy balked at eating an oyster(they look icky!) his father forced him to swallow it. Then, when they were eating chicken he remembered throwing them grain, became upset, and his father forced him to eat the chicken, reminding him that later on they’d have one of those cute little lambs for dinner
That did it. He said he never ate meat after that. He said it wasn’t anything high minded, but between his dad and the memories, he didn’t like it. Guy said he didn’t mind what other people ate, and he disapproved of a vegetarian client who also made her DOG be vegetarian.
I’m not feeling sorry for myself. I now regret not fucking with the kids head.
I was actually hoping some of you would find humor in my predicament. My daughter-in-law laughed hysterically at this story. At first she thought she knew which kid it was but turned out she was thinking of another (there are plenty of screwed up kids to go around).
What made this so tough was it all happened in a very, very short period of time, and prior to it he was a really good, seemingly adjusted child.
Why? You don’t like the taste? It makes you squeamish? That is, not a moral, rational, or health reason, just an “ew” reason like the girls who wouldn’t eat a fish-shaped fish?
My sympathies are entirely with Liam. What a horrible way to have such a shocking fact of life thrust upon you, with an adult with so little empathy he can only think about himself.
Cholesterol is a sterol lipid (a waxy substance whose molecule is made up of for linked rings). It makes up a large part of the cell membrane. Cholesterol is carried around the body in what’s called a lipoprotein, which the body uses to transport fats in the blood stream. High amounts of one lipoprotein, called LDL, in the bloodstream, has been linked to atherosclerosis, which is a disease where arteries in the body narrow and lose flexibility, and that’s linked to heart and circulation problems. There’s some evidence (although the evidence isn’t as clear as it used to be), that eating a lot of saturated fats can increase the amount of LDL in your body. That’s one of the reasons that doctors say you should avoid diets high in saturated fats, especially if you have high cholesterol or a history of heart problems.
It’s not a matter of me not knowing the biology, guys. It’s a language problem, a concept mismatch. One of the definitions for raíz is “underground part supporting those parts which are visible”: no reference to actual biological functionality; so long as it’s underground, a part of a plant is a raíz.
English bamboo shoots are Spanish tallos de bambú, but English grass shoots are briznas de hierba; to have tallos, hierba has to be that specific one also known as María, which isn’t a herbal. Spanish trees don’t have tallos: their leaves and flowers do - but in English, those are called stems. An asparagus fern is an esparraguera or a mata de espárragos, but mata is usually translated as bush, not fern. Different concepts.
H N.S: I think you’d get on well with a friend of mine. He feels very much the way you do about milk, and milk products – except that he’s cool with cheese, if it’s proper solid cheese from the “Anglosphere” – he abhors “gooey” foreign cheeses. Otherwise, for him, milk is for infants of the appropriate respective species – he recoils from it. He’s always felt this way, since early childhood. Nowadays he is zealously concerned for animal rights and welfare (if he lived in the States, he’d belong to PETA for sure), and his milk-hatred chimes in with this; but as said, he has from the outset, loathed ingesting the stuff in its own right.
(I don’t mean to come across as scornful of you, or my friend – all people have every right to their aversions in this line. People’s food-and-drink hatings and likings, are just interesting.)
Parents can be awful like that. My father apparently had a lamb when he was young, treated it like a pet, not realizing that one day his parents would kill it for dinner and expect him to eat it. At age 79, he still won’t touch lamb.
He has no problem with other meats, though, up to and including chickens, turkeys, rabbits, and goats, which we raised, butchered, and cooked ourselves. Oh, and one emu.
And who regrets “not fucking with the kids(sic) head”. This is a little kid! Plus, he has some kind of emotional problems. I can understand being startled by the situation, but being mean to him or making fun of him, even here, is bullshit.
