Request a dozen eggs from a farmer, a dozen steaks from a butcher, or a dozen pencils from a traveling office supplies salesman, and you will almost certainly receive 12 of your chosen item (counting errors do happen). But a baker’s dozen is commonly understood to mean 13. Are bakers just bad at counting? Not quite.
There are a few theories as to why a baker’s dozen became 13, but the most widely accepted one has to do with avoiding a beating. In medieval England there were laws that related the price of bread to the price of the wheat used to make it. Bakers who were found to be “cheating” their customers by overpricing undersized loaves were subject to strict punishment, including fines or flogging. Even with careful planning it is difficult to ensure that all of your baked goods come out the same size; there may be fluctuations in rising and baking and air content, and many of these bakers didn’t even have scales to weigh their dough. For fear of accidentally coming up short, they would throw in a bit extra to ensure that they wouldn’t end up with a surprise flogging later. In fact, sometimes a baker’s dozen was 14—just to be extra sure.
I was trying to connect the dots between a baker’s dozen and life. Life is like this dough handed out to you and you make whatever you want from it bread, buns and any other bakery item. Some of us are not given a bakers dozen in terms of life and that little bit extra to balance out the rest is a journey of struggle till the day it means nothing to you but a lot to the ones after you or the ones left behind. I am not sure if there was a Metallica song running in my head when I wrote the line earlier. About the eggs, did you know that they are actually bird babies, actually hen/ chicken babies? And we are OK in stealing them from their mother before they hatch and become chicks, later, growing into full chickens that will have a social life at a farm - NOT. However, we have a problem with abortion!
These last few months have been nothing but cruel to me. In fact the period during the pandemic till now has left me scarred in so many ways it's hard to express. That is why I have written some random non sense that will make some sense if you read between the lines and have the imagination of a Peacock that can reproduce by just crying.
How have you, my readers been? Anything you would like to share and talk about? I did lose all wind in my sails when I had to let go of my home and move into this new house. Everyone is happy, it's just me that is not because according to many I am this grumpy old man with an attitude. Yes, sure it's you and only you who can judge me from the outside and assume what I am feeling or about; when you and only you are so insecure about yourself that you wait for others to speak to you about you. Reminds me of this song by Pink Floyd, because it's how I am actually feeling: I have become comfortably numb
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