Legends from our own lunchtimes

Tuesday, November 06, 2007

Leaping Salmon

Julian mentioned the little village of Llwwddfyrddin in his blog the other day, and while he may well have deliberately miss-spelled the name in the interests of protecting the innocent, he may also have hinted at what a hotbed of interesting, if somewhat trivial information we found the place to be. Information that seemed irrelevant, but only in the sense that at the time we had little use for the so many solutions to the mysteries of life which presented themselves to us in one night and a rather short morning.

While we did wonder at the enthusiasm displayed by the lady who was an expert in curing cats of their ills using nought but fresh cut flowers, and the young American cow doctor who had come to study holistic bovine treatments in the backblocks of Wales, my imagination was captured entirely by the certain knowledge that 'they' have found a gene (or was it a hormone?) in Salmon leaping up waterfalls, which is apparently identical to one found in breast-feeding humans.

This remarkable slice of information positioned yet another piece on the board that is the jigsaw of my life. At last I have an explanation for the head-sized holes in the ceiling, and all the banging that occurred in the shower recess of our home for a few weeks after the birth of each of our children.

It's not as though my evening was ruined by the thought of Richard Attenborough talking to camera just out of sight, in front of a fibreglass shower recess with a brood of lactating mothers taking turns in leaping over the shower rose, far from it, but none of us ordered dessert.


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