The Doctrine of Estates: Make. It. Stop.

It's taken me six days to read 40 pages on estates. I find it to be exceptionally dull, and yet it's one of those things that rips families apart. Lesson learned: Make sure you get a damned good lawyer to write your will, for crying out loud. Mercifully, there's only one class on this before we move to aboriginal property law, a far more intriguing proposition.

Poor, poor property law, keeps getting interupted by my afternoon naps, the February issue of Vanity Fair, Margaret Atwood, The Children of the Lamp (book three), jaunts to Chinatown, cards games, and the occasional trip to the drug store for Advil and Buckley's cough syrup. Because no vacation is complete without a wretched virus. No vacation is complete without a little LOTR, either. I myself am partial to The Return of the King, because Viggo is all over that movie. I don't get tired of LOTR, though I do tend to skip a lot of the hobbity parts, except when AHC is around. He makes me watch the hobbits, even though I would rather skip ahead to the world of Men.

What was I talking about? Oh, right, property law.

A CHALLENGE: Draft a clause for your will guaranteed to confuse and dismay your heirs! Surely you don't need to know anything about the doctrine of estates to do a bang up job of this. The courts are filled with the confusing self-written instructions of people now dead. But I'll expect a little creativity from my law peeps. Impress (or confuse) me and you may be rewarded.