Knives, Jujitsu, and Pyromania

Was it late February or early March that I went on a Jujitsu road trip with most of my dojo? Eh, I can't remember. Time could be just a human construct, anyway.

(But probably not. I just suck at remembering things.)

That means I get to show you more Jujitsu pictures! Yay! Unlike last time, this was not a camping trip (because I don't do camping trips in winter- I'm crazy, but not like that). We carpooled down to Chicago (thank gods I wasn't driving- thank you Sensei Dan!) at breakneck speed because the black belts in our car had to be uke for some black belt tests. Uke (ooh-kay) is the Japanese word for the person receiving the technique. (Interestingly, it can also be translated as "submissive," "victim," or "bitch", but that applies to BDSM more than Jujitsu.) In Jujitsu, an uke is the person who is getting thrown or taken down so that the other person can practice their technique. In practice sessions, students take turns being uke. 

(Here I am being uke while Sarah throws me.)

None of the lower ranks are allowed to watch black belt tests, so no one really knows what goes on. (So technically, it could be BDSM- the imagination runs wild!)

(Okay- MY imagination runs wild.)

I got to do lots of fun things in the Chicago seminar.

I did some hanbo techniques, which were different than the other weapon styles I've done before. In Jujitsu hanbo, we use the hanbo to manipulate joints, instead of striking. I'm definitely used to hitting people with sticks, but breaking people's joints with sticks is fun too!

I did a lot of ground fighting, too. I got a super good workout with all the ground fighting classes I took. My muscles were sore for days afterwards.

I took a Judo throw class. Here I am throwing Sarah de ashi harai. Throws are probably my weakest area in martial arts, so I need all the practice I can get.

I took a knife fighting class, which I think was my favorite. For some reason I just like knives! Plus, it was something I've never done before. Before the sensei had us work with knives, though, we had to learn a basic striking and blocking drill.

Then Sensei Hodgkins showed us the proper way to stab people, using rubber knives.

Then we got to stab each other!

Other than the Jujitsu, we got to do a lot of socializing, getting drunk, listening to loud music, eating good food, and almost getting kicked out of the hotel. For some reason when I was drunk I really, really wanted to set someone's socks on fire. Thankfully, no one let me try.

(Drunk me and pyro Donald Duck are pretty much indistinguishable.)

I'm really enjoying the Jujitsu seminars. I get to do so many fun things plus make new friends and learn some stuff, too.

Group picture!

The Goat Trailer

Living in the country has its perks.  One of them is that there's more space between your house and your neighbor's house.  But on the other hand, sometimes you get some really strange neighbors.  On one side of our house lives some regular country folk- the kind that shoots guns in their backyard, yells at their dogs, and will tow my car out of a ditch when I need help.  On the other side of our house is a goat trailer.

(Hellllooooo, neighbor!)

Some goats live there.  The trailer sits on our property, so they rent from us.  The problem with the trailer is that it's so run down that regular humans didn't want to live in it.  So we really had no choice but to accept the goat tenants- it was either that, or fix up the trailer.  (And... nah.) 

Having goats live in our trailer was maybe not the best move.  They don't really know how to live in a house.

(No no no.  You're supposed to go IN the house, not ON it.)

They also don't use human toilets so... there's crap everywhere.  They tend to jump on anything that's not nailed down.  Actually, they jump on the nailed down stuff too.  They eat hay in the living room. They jump out of the windows instead of using the door.  They scratch their horns against the door frames.  In fact, I've even seen them try to eat the house!

(Yum yum yum!)

It's safe to say, they are not getting their security deposit back.

(What a mess.)

And when you try to confront them about it, they just look at you blankly.

(Who, me?)

Or, they run away.

(It's the landlady!  Quick, let's get out of here!)

Or, they are just downright rude.

Sigh.

I am pretty sure I smelled some sort of "herb" coming from that house.  I don't want to assume anything, but when I asked about it I didn't exactly get a satisfactory answer.

(It's all good here, man, it's all good.)

And the worst part of it is- they are late on their rent!

(Whaaaat???  Why, I never!)

That's right, goats.  You never.  You never clean.  You never pay rent.  I don't even think you really own money!  In fact, you probably ate it.  Just like you ate the sofa.  And the chairs.  And the dresser.  And the walls.  And the insulation!

(They totally do.)

And now they've even gotten a dog, which expressly violates our no pet policy!

 (They don't even bother hiding the dog from me.  Figures.)

In short, goats are horrible tenants.  And they make pretty lousy neighbors, too.  They keep eating our fruit trees that we planted in the yard.  They bleat all day and all night.  And they throw wild parties where they invite some shifty-looking cows over.  I keep worrying the cows might decide to come over and pass out in my yard, or startle my children with their uncouth Holstein ways.

(Cows these days.  What ever happened to family values?  Obviously they weren't raised right.)

Well, since I'm the landlady, I decided to evict them.  Or, at least I tried.

They ate the contract.