Crazy Person The Crazy person is one of the arcane majors of the gypsy tarot. Educate yourself even more with thoughts from Ford Cars. When the Crazy person leaves exposed, generally, a figure is considered positive. It fulfills a fundamental roll within the mallet of the tarot, in the same way that the zero in the mathematical one. Without the zero notion any possibility would not exist of realising calculations, and of equal way, without the transcendental force of the Crazy person, the vital spark of the energy of the tarot would not exist. Without doubts, he is arcane a disquieting one. All we are a little crazy, and we make things that do not seem to have logical, and of that we are not very safe of its result. The Crazy person is an innocent personage, is like a boy, has all the potentialities, all the possibilities of realising a future favorable. Nevertheless, that potentiality not yet has been realised. It depends on many factors: of the luck, of its history and the resources on which it counts. The Crazy person is, then, an ambiguous letter, can be transformed into a virtuous person, as much as in somebody despicable one. The arcane one expresses the good beginning of something project, relation, process, but it does not guarantee that the final result is satisfactory. The Crazy person stimulates to us to leave the pre-established molds, to change our schemes of thought, to leave the mental box in which sometimes we are locked up. The Crazy person invites to believe to us in our own possibilities, to bet by the new thing: a new love, a new use, a new way. But, in the same way that when one begins a trip, does not know how it will finish, the Crazy person guarantees...
Puppies When our Gerda, was born first in her life and our puppy, she jumped back in horror from it, and whined piteously. I thought nothing then everything should go wrong. But after the birth of the second, third, following all repeated. She hovered anxiously around whining and barking. I had to clear them from "afterbirth," dressing the umbilical cord and to free the airways, causing them to breathe strength. Then we tried to shove them under her udder and give them the first mouthful of breast milk that dripped profusely from all the teats. Gerd shied away from them as a stick, sometimes rejection passed into aggressiveness, she growled at them unreasonable, seeing them as an incomprehensible threat. Nothing I kept saying, soon wake maternal instinct and she changed his mind. Nothing of the sort, one which I tried to shove, what would she licked it, recognizing in it own child, she tsapnula. Left it with them for five minutes, returned. O horror! Gerda is worn on the site; blind, still wet puppies, heart-rending wailing, creeping along the sand in the enclosure. No persuasion on her failure to act. Neither threats nor request. She did not want to acknowledge their children. Here I am sad. Had to solve a dilemma: to find the mother or the puppies to become a mother myself. Experience whatsoever. But mom, too. A puppy is not going into my anguish, the food is getting louder and louder. They wanted to live! And that, at the moment, meant only one thing, they need to eat! Not less terrified wife, was frantically search for bottles and nipples, which are of - for lack of small children at home, not be.