I had no intention of sharing this experience, but in my opinion, CREATING LIFE is something worthy of mention.
Allow me to preface this with a bit of how and why the whole creation thing came to be:
I am a fan of canned, sliced pineapple. Sometimes it's a heavy syrup that the slices reside in, sometimes it's 100% pineapple juice. I prefer the 100% juice to be the home in which my pineapple live until I consume them.
That being said... my belly is occasionally sensitive to such acidic juices. I've learned that to successfully get through an entire 20 oz. can of pineapple, I need a full glass of water to drink while eating. Sometimes, by the end of the can, it's just too much liquid and I feel sick, full, and in pain.
Slowly, over the years, I've learned that I don't, in fact, have to finish the entire can. I could put it down and finish it later, or I could even put it in ye olde icebox and resume consumption on an entirely different day! That was a revelation to me.
I usually preferred to save it for a later time. Though often, I would wait too long and find that the can of juice had started to "change", and I'd promptly discard it. This happened more often than I like to admit, and I grew tired of consistently forgetting, so I just let the can sit out. I was also intrigued by the changing situation: the firming sludge, the rusting of the can, etc.
After some quick research, I learned that the fermenting of such juice is actually quite commonplace, and could yield a tasty beverage. I decided to leave a few more cans open and do some experimenting.
I'll spare you the details of the success or failure of each of the fermentation attempts. Suffice to say, I drank some things that were probably better left UN-drunk. Alas, those were innocent times.
On the single attempt, which has brought me to this point of sharing, I shall now pontificate.
The interior of the one particular can grew fuzzier than the rest, which was the one main difference between all the others which were left in their can. According to instruction, the metal can was never supposed to be introduced into the process. In fact, printed on the can label itself states "after opening, store contents in glass or plastic container... you have been warned!". I never noticed this and/or it was of no concern to me.
As the environment of fuzz continued to expand in said can, I began paying special attention to it. I can only assume that it was my overwhelming love and warmth, that allowed this life from within the can, to blossom.
Upon close examination of the fuzz, I saw that there was slight movement. It was more than just my warm and loving breath that made it move. Each subsequent day, I noted substantial change and expansion. Enough so, that by day four, I had to forego my own personal hygiene by giving up my bathtub to the can. It seemed like the only space capable of safely and cleanly containing the spread of growth. This growth had overtaken the outside of the can, and after the first night in the tub, had spread to a full 8-inch circumference surrounding the base of it.
The remaining days grew stranger, as the heat and smell from the can got stronger. I decided to take a specimen on the eighth day. Under my old high school microscope I was able to see interesting shapes, but to my untrained eye and weak equipment, I was not able to determine what I was seeing. I needed stronger gear.
After about 30 minutes, I procured the necessary materials. (see photo)
I was then able to identify exactly what I was seeing. LIFE!! A living being! Nestled among the spores was a tiny smooth sphere that at first glance appeared to be more like an egg, but after further examination proved to be the little creature itself. (see photo)
The remaining days involved a bonding that can only be described as intense and inappropriate. I devoted more time to the little baby thing than I'd spent on anything before. It's features quickly developed during this time, and it fully dawned on me that this was something I would need to take seriously.
More to come...