MM describes China

When I was a child, bedtime was 8:30, no fooling around about it. Unless I was reading. If I was reading anything at all, I could stay up as long as I stayed quietly reading. (I rarely made it to 9).

Later, my parents’ problem became getting me to stop reading and go to sleep. I had the third floor of the house to myself, but I kept getting caught staying up and reading. Tried sealing the door so light couldn’t leak out. No good. Tried covering the windows so nothing showed in the yard. No dice; I kept getting caught.

Many years later, as a young adult, I broke down and asked Mom how she did it.

She gave me the look she reserved for occasions when I’d done something a little cute, but basically stupid, and replied: “How many nights were you not reading?” Me: *thinks* “Oh. So, every night on your way to bed, you just hollered upstairs, and on the odd night when I was already asleep, no harm done?” Mom: “Uh-huh.”

One of the biggest surprises that has happened after retiring is realizing what it’s like to downsize. We lost, or rather left behind, over 1000 square feet. We’d had a lovely piece of property, and now we don’t have very much.

I’ve pared down our possessions, I’m still doing that, and I’m beginning to realize how little we need. No one will tell me why I dragged my mother’s china with me. I won’t use it. I hardly used it when we had a larger house. I was younger then, and we did a lot of entertaining. You’ll find out how this works. You know that there is no good reason to take so much stuff, but you do it anyway. I look at that china and think, “Let my heirs take care of it.” As long as I don’t do that with too many things, I should be okay.

I’m overwhelmed by how nice people are in the community we’ve moved into. People showed up at my door with homemade soup, breads and even dinner. We were welcomed with open arms. I’d lived in my old neighborhood for a long time, I knew my neighbors, but I never got to know them well. I had a good friend across the street. I knew the people on my block, but we each had our own lives. We were working. That made a difference. Larger homes with larger plots of land tend to make people stay within their boundaries. I don’t feel any boundaries here. I feel free.

I didn’t expect to be this happy. I thought we were just doing this for the money, but I’ve found out that I’ve been looking for this place a long time, and finally I was old enough to find it.

SHOCKING: China Warns The US “Cooperation or Confrontation” As Russia SEIZES US Bank Assets

This is a VERY GOOD video. China gave the USA “notice”.

China has had enough.

Blinken’s in China and things aren’t going well for him. Beijing has given him multiple warnings and red lines not to cross. China has given clear signs they aren’t afraid of America’s economic threats. Meanwhile, Russia has just frozen the assets of JP Morgan’s Russian account. This asset seizure will likely continue as the West plans to confiscate Russia’s frozen $300 billion. Here’s what you must know!

When I was 20 years old, still a university student, and in the early stages of a relationship, a game of truth or dare with friends took an unexpected turn. I was dared to confess about my relationship to my parents, even though it felt too early. However, my ego pushed me to accept the challenge.

I nervously called my dad.

  • Me: Hi, Dad.
  • Dad: Hi! How are you?
  • Me: I wanted to say something.
  • Dad: Okay, go ahead.
  • Me: I… hmm… (I hesitated).
  • Dad: What’s the hesitation?
  • Me: I wanted to say… (still hesitant, thinking of how to handle things if they go south).
  • Dad: Is there someone around you? (He heard my friends’ voices and they were making sure I said it.)
  • Me: Pooh… (taking a deep breath and without second thought) I like a girl!
  • Dad: Okay, what’s her name? (He seemed surprisingly cool, which was not typical with Indian parents.)
  • Me: (I told him her name.)
  • Dad: Okay, where is she from?
  • Me: (I gave him her details.)
  • Dad: Alright. Just remember one thing in life. Even if you miss one bus, there is always another bus that will come. You just need to wait.
  • Me: Okay (totally dumbfounded by how things turned around).
  • Dad: Anything else?
  • Me: No.
  • Dad: Bye!!.
  • Me: Bye !!.

Till this day, I remain captivated by the way my dad handled that unexpected conversation. His calm and open-minded response, especially given the usual cultural norms, left a lasting impression on me. The analogy he used, comparing life’s opportunities to buses, has become a guiding principle for me in facing challenges.

Since that day, whenever I encounter setbacks or failures, I recall my dads words and wait for the next bus. 🙂

edit: Thanks a lot for all the upvotes . shared it with my dad yesterday, and he was ecstatic about the response. A big thanks to all who read and all the upvotes !!

My mom had lung cancer. I was with her the last few days. She refused medication until the last day. Then started morphine. I had fallen asleep after reading to her for a bit.

The nurse explained to me that her kind of death is like slowly drowning the morphine reduces your bodies desire to breath. Very hard to watch.

Well I fell asleep finally and my alarm did not wake me for her next dose. I heard “ Neal get up!”. Just like when I was late for the bus 50 years ago. I had not heard her speak above a whisper for more than a month.

I gave her her next dose read a bit more to her from the hobbit ( she called her house that she built after she was65 her self) her hobbit house ( partially underground) but she had never read the hobbit and loved it when we read to her.

She never spoke again, I actually think she was not really there after that second dose of morphine.

Due to covid this remarkable lady never had a funeral. Grew up on the reservation, professional trick rider from ages of 9 to 12. Completed high school, raised 3 boys on her own . Ran 3 successful businesses, tribal council 3 times no one messed with her twice all 90 lb 4ft 7 of her…. Happy trails ma….

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In 1997, a Saudi Airlines 747 landed at the wrong airport in India – it was supposed to land at Madras International Airport but ended up touching down at a nearby Indian air force base instead. The pilot simply saw and aimed for the wrong runway. Oops!

In that particular case, the base’s runways weren’t enough to allow the plane to safely take off again.

So, they made the plane as light as possible. All of the passenger seats were taken out, as well as all of the galleys. Any excess weight was removed from the plane to make it as light as possible. It was given just a few minutes worth of fuel – the absolute minimum necessary to be able to get the plane in the air and make the short flight to the Madras airport, which was its original, intended destination and just a short hop away.

Big, longhaul planes that need longer runways are usually intended for longer flights, and thus a big reason they need such long runways for takeoff is they’re loaded up with so much fuel. So, perhaps the Saudi 747 wasn’t the only case in which a large plane was stripped of as much weight as possible, and then given the absolute least amount of fuel possible – just enough to allow it to take off and get itself to the nearest airport with the right runway.

Apparently the same happened with a TWA flight that landed at the wrong airport near Steamboat Springs, CO in 2001, and an Atlas Air cargo jet that landed at the wrong airport in AZ. In each case, all excess weight was removed from the plane, and it was given just enough fuel to get it to the correct airport. Once there, everything was put back on the plane (after being trucked over) and it was put back in service. Obviously, these situations each involve pilots accidentally landing at the wrong airport, mistaking them for the (nearby) airport they were supposed to land at. So in these situations, giving the planes just enough fuel to get to the proper airport – but not enough to prevent them from taking off on the short runway – was an option.

When I chose to leave the language center where I had worked for 14 years for lack of respect issues by ‘the boys’ club’, one colleague (who was part of the club) made it clear that HE thought I was making a huge mistake.

Fast forward perhaps 5 years. He, too, had left the center for a higher paying position elsewhere.

We ran into each other at an exhibition, and he asked what I was doing for work.

As a communications teacher, I am really good at reading body language and tone of voice. He was oozing condescension and seemed ready to gloat, assuming I was working at some unlicensed language school.

I admit to messing with him and felt no guilt whatsoever.

I told him I was teaching part time (I had been a full-time teacher trainer and supervisor at the center) and added nothing.

He gave one of his famous ‘sad on the outside, superior laugh on the inside’ looks and saying he still had connections, he offered to put in a good word for me at the center, so MAYBE I could be rehired there as an hourly teacher.

I thanked him as sincerely as I could, but then, looking very serious, told him I was part-timing at the then top-rated business school in Thailand, making over three times what I had made fulltime at the center and working only a fourth of the 40-hour week.

His look of shock was very satisfying.

The fun didn’t end there.

My husband walked up and asked if we were talking about our new logistics company (we owned six 10-wheel trucks outright); I feared my former colleague was going to have a heart attack.

Note: I had been moonlighting at the business school long before I left the center. It was no secret, but the ‘club’ never bothered to learn much about me.

When I left the center, I also left my disgust and anger about them AT the center, being unwilling to carry THAT burden into the future.

A few years ago someone I had known when they were a teenager showed up where I was working looking for a job. He was in his early 20s by this point (American citizen) but had been kicked out of his moms house. He had nothing but the clothes on his back and his birth certificate.

There was a truck stop walking distance from where he was staying that would hire him but he had to have a social security card and a picture id.

So I tried to help him get those items and I discovered just how difficult it is to get photo id without photo id! He was a nice kid but not brilliant. And he had no car so I drove him. first place we went was the social security office. once there it was discovered that the birth dates on his birth certificate and his social security card were one day apart! That took more paperwork to figure out.

Finally we get a social security card but then we go to the local dmv for an id. He didn’t have a previous id of course, and because of his situation he had no utility bills in his name or passport or anything else. Eventually we managed to get him an id because I was willing to sign paperwork vouching for his identity since I knew him when he was a kid

Both the social security office and the dmv were over 20 miles from where he was staying, and each took multiple trips. He couldn’t get a job so he had no money so he couldn’t have taken Ubers. ( and no working phone or credit card) And he would have really really struggled figuring out all of the paperwork. I have a masters degree and I struggled trying to figure out this stuff.

These days any ‘legit’ -ie not paying under the table – employer has to check social security cards and all of that stuff.

If a homeless person has lost their social security card and picture id – I can assure you – at least in Texas – it’s incredibly hard to get either back. If that homeless person does not have someone to vouch for who they are, they might not be able to get it again.

it took well over a month and numerous trips to get him sorted out. Once we did, he took the job and could work again. But a homeless person with no one to drive them around and help them out? Good luck.

I’m going to go with Louis Farrakhan on this one

A couple quotes so you can get my idea:

  • “You see everybody always talk about Hitler exterminating six million Jews. That’s right. But don’t nobody ever ask what did they do to Hitler.”
  • “White people are potential humans – they haven’t evolved yet.”
  • “The Jews have been so bad at politics they lost half their population in the Holocaust. They thought they could trust in Hitler, and they helped him get the Third Reich on the road.”
  • “The Mother Wheel is a heavily armed spaceship the size of a city, which will rain destruction upon white America but save those who embrace the Nation of Islam.”
  • “Now that nation called Israel, never has had any peace in forty years and she will never have any peace because there can never be any peace structured on injustice, thievery, lying and deceit and using the name of God to shield your dirty religion under His holy and righteous name.”
  • “The Jews don’t like Farrakhan, so they call me Hitler. Well, that’s a good name. Hitler was a very great man.”
  • “I believe that for the small numbers of Jewish people in the United States, they exercise a tremendous amount of influence on the affairs of government …Yes, they exercise extraordinary control, and black people will never be free in this country until they are free of that kind of control … “
  • “Many of the Jews who owned the homes, the apartments in the black community, we considered them bloodsuckers because they took from our community and built their community but didn’t offer anything back to our community. When the Jews left, the Palestinian Arabs came, Koreans came, Vietnamese…and we call them bloodsuckers.”
  • “White people deserve to die, and they know, so they think it’s us coming to do it.”

Arrogant? Check.

Idiotic? Check.

Shameful? Check.

I walked into a Harley-Davidson dealership looking to buy my next bike. I was looking at their pre-owned stock, which, like in any other retail scenario, is significantly less expensive than buying new. My son (I think he was 7 or 8 at the time), was with me, and I had him sitting on the passenger seats of several bikes on the floor to see if he were tall enough to reach the foot pegs. We were both wearing jeans and t-shirts, which is fairly typical for us, and not entirely uncommon among motorcyclists.

I narrowed my selection down and got on those bikes with him to see if he could hold onto me in the riding position. After probably 5 or 6 bikes, I decided on one, and started looking around for a sales person. There were several of them on the floor, all just kind of glancing over at us while talking among themselves. We wandered through the merchandise section of the store, and as we passed the group of sales people, I said “apparently nobody wants to take a cash down payment for their next sale?”

We walked out, and I later discovered that while this treatment of customers isn’t all that common among Harley dealers as a whole, this particular dealer is notorious for it.

As a new officer on overnight shift, I was dispatched to a shooting in an urban neighborhood in the downtown area. When I arrived, I was accompanied by two other officers where we observed two men in a pickup truck in front of a house who had been shot. Before a minute, there were another half dozen police officers who had arrived securing the scene while we administered first aid. The paramedics came and took the driver. The passenger, a 19 year old kid was pronounced dead at the scene. We had learned shortly thereafter this was a drive by, gang style shooting that was retribution against these individuals who had shot one of there members the week before.

I was assigned to stand by the passenger door of the pickup securing the evidence until the scene could be processed. Our CSI Unit worked during the day shift and was on call, so we had to wait.

The door was open with the nineteen year old’s head and right arm sticking out the door as he laid on his right side across the seat. This was my first homicide scene. This was the first time being close to a deceased body. I stood there watching his blood spill out of the vehicle and drift down about fifty feet in the gutter to where we had put up our crime scene tape.

About 45 minutes had passed when a lady drove up, exited her vehicle and approached where the detective was standing outside the tape. When she saw the blood, she let out a shriek and then inconsolable sobbing as she knew her son was the one in that pickup truck even before the detective could have informed her. Before long, family members started to arrive. One by one, the shrieks and the sobbing continued. After about an hour, they left together, attempting to console one another. Then there was an eerie silence. After nearly 23 years, I can still remember what the scene looked like, the smell, and those agonizing screams. My prayers are still with this young man’s family.

Southwestern Egg and Cheese Breakfast Casserole

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71858t1

Yield: 10 servings

Ingredients

  • 18 eggs
  • 2 small cans green chiles, chopped
  • 1 to 1 1/2 pounds cooked breakfast sausage
  • 2 1/2 cups grated Monterey Jack cheese
  • 1 onion, diced
  • 1 green bell pepper, diced

Instructions

  1. Spray slow cooker with Pam.
  2. Starting with sausage, layer meat, chiles, onions, peppers, and cheese, repeating the layering process until all ingredients are used and ending with a layer of cheese.
  3. Beat eggs, then pour over mixture in slow cooker.
  4. Cover and cook on LOW for 7 to 8 hours.
  5. Serve with sour cream and/or salsa.

One of my daughters is a serious academic. She is the student who, when given an assignment due in 2 weeks, would begin it that same evening. She always turned in essays and projects early; sometimes the teacher even told her to take it home for a while until it was due. She scrupulously studied for every test and exam. When she was in Grade 8, French class, every project, quiz, test, and participation level scored 95% or better. Yet, on her report card, her grade was B+.

WHAT?

We arranged a parent-teacher interview at the appropriate time as designated on the form supplied with the report card. My daughter, who was understandably very upset with her grade, accompanied me to ask for clarification from the teacher. Perhaps it was a simple error? We brought along all of my daughter’s marked work from the term.

“Oh, no error,” said the teacher. “I don’t ever give an A or A+. Students always have room to improve.”

“Well,” I countered, displaying all the marked term documents we had, “could you please explain how you added numerical grades over 15 assignments, that seem to average at 97%, to equal a B+, which is a numerical grade of 85–90%?”

“That may be accurate,” said the French teacher. “But I don’t give A+ to any students. There is always room to improve.”

We passed over the projects and exams that were graded at 100%. “Please explain how my daughter could improve in this circumstance.” Then we handed over the lowest-graded item, at 95%. “You have marked several of my daughter’s interpretations of this French novel as “inaccurate,” but her views actually are in agreement with those of these renowned French literary critics.” I passed her the publications.

“So, please explain to my daughter and me how she could have improved her performance enough to get the grade she needed to promote her to her desired school?”

“I never give an A+,” was the final comment before the interview was ended. And my daughter was once again in tears.

“It’s not over yet,” I told her. I sent all of our documentation, the report card, and the teacher’s remarks (which I had written down as they were being discussed) to the school Principal, cc to the Superintendent, and to the School Board. Within 3 days her mark was corrected to A+, and a letter of apology was sent to my daughter from the principal of the school. The French teacher transferred.

I am proud to say that this daughter is now in her 4th year PhD English Literature, and is completely fluent in French.

As a follow on to two videos I’ve recently made, on about the reasons why Japan invaded China and another about the reason why China should be grateful to the USA, there have been a few questions and I’ll attempt to answer them here.