Fleeced

From the Sunday Snail.

Thousands of Japanese have been fleeced in a scam in which they were sold Australian and British sheep and told they were poodles.

Flocks of sheep were imported to Japan and then sold by a company called Poodles as Pets, marketed as fashionable accessories, available at $1600 each.

That is a snip compared to a real poodle which retails for twice that much in Japan.

The scam was uncovered when Japanese movie star Maiko Kawamaki went on a talk show and wondered why her new pet would not bark or eat dog food.

Then hundreds of other women got in touch with police to say they feared their new "poodle" was also a sheep.

I've since heard that this story is rubbish, based on a misquote or mistranslation. We're pretty quick to assume as true any story that shows the Japanese to be ridiculously eccentric, stupid, or stupidly and eccentrically ridiculous. But what the hell. I think it's a great story anyway. I only wish I'd thought of importing the sheep myself.

Pictures of Little People

...and one large person.

The belly at its peak. The morning of the birth, in fact.

And the results. Edie an hour old.

And Oscar.

Edie chowing down on Oscar's head.

Edie at three weeks.

Oscar, three weeks.

Motherhood

What on earth could possibly have kept me from updating for such a long time? What indeed.

Edie and Oscar arrived as planned on the 17th, and life since then has been a fog of breasts, shitty nappies and milk sick. My life is now focussed on my ability to produce a dairy product, not something I'd ever really considered before.

The little 'uns are healthy and lovely, and Dad and I are learning to be incredibly grateful for sleep in blocks of four hours or more. Edie was born with her eyes open and staring, and continues to take it all in at every opportunity. Oscar came out wailing and with his eyes clenched shut. He's a bit of a delicate flower, sensitive to loud noises and bright lights. Can't blame him, really; I wanted to scream in the surgery, too.

It's nice to (kind of) have my body back. The sheer ease of movement post-belly is a truly wonderful thing. Moving around with a wriggling baby attached to your leaking chest has its own challenges, though. Currently typing this with Oscar on my lap; also a little difficult.

One thing I was not so aware of is how novel people find twins. When we take them out in the pram, something we do every other day, it's rare that we get more than a few metres before someone stops us for interrogation. Are they twins? How old are they? Are they identical? Should you have them out at that age? Do you have twins in your family? The answer to all of these questions is Please just sod off. Please. You're the fourth person to ask me that in the past ten minutes, and you're really trying my patience. I only had three hours sleep last night. Step aside immediately or I may not be responsible for my actions. I know people are trying to be nice. Sometimes. But it's still trying.