.
The Great “Organic Caulk” Conspiracy
When I was young and in second grade, we were living in Monroe Connecticut. At that time it was just some new housing developments, and my father had a prime lot in one of them. It was (at that time) a rural area and beautiful. Today it is one of the most expensive and exclusive area in CT. Ah, and my dad threw it all away on a job in East Brady, PA. Ah, the job that fired him at 19.5 years... just so that he wouldn't get a pension.
Life eh?
Anyways, let's not get sidetracked. So as a kid in second grade my sister and I would wait for the bus on a corner a few blocks from our house. We went to a Catholic elementary school, and it just so happened that the High School bus would stop at the same bus stop where our Catholic Elementary bus would stop, and as luck would have it, we took the wrong bus more than a few times. Discharging at High School and wondering around in a daze.
Life , yeah.
So let me tell youse guys about waiting at that corner. We were maybe 7 or 8 years old at the time and the neighbors had these German Shepard's. There's always someone, right? And they ran free. Because... you know "not my problem". And they ran as a pack of dogs. Because... well dogs form packs.
And so we would stand there in our little Catholic uniforms. Me win my suit and tie, and my sister in her plaid dress, both holding our leather satchel. And yup, those 5 to 9 tamed wolves would always surround us, bark at us and play tug of war with our clothing, and satchels. And so, more than once I was called up to the teacher, and the head master who would inquire about the holes in my homework, and the holes in my satchel. But nothing was ever done about it.
In China, well, they would FIX this problem IMMEDIATELY. It would be a health issue, a danger to children and society. And the owners would be warned, the dogs impounded, corrective remedies applied, and possible criminal penalties to the owners. Because it is a socialist nation. The betterment of society comes FIRST. Those aunties DO. NOT. PLAY.
In the USA, however... meh! I gots ma freedom!
Today, if (and it's just a hypothetical at this point) had my children attacked daily by a pack of wild dogs, I would be out there with a shotgun, and making sure that they were safe. Maybe I wouldn't kill the dogs, but some rocksalt loads would keep them far, far away. Rocksalt is PAINFUL.
Ah the memories.
Today...
All US Ambassadors MUST LEAVE the Middle East Or We Start WW3
What happens if a large aircraft emergency lands on a small airstrip with no damage and the runway is not long enough for a take off?
Not necessarily an emergency. It has happened by pilot error. In 1991 a United 757 landed by error in the Isla Grande airport in San Juan, Puerto Rico (SIG) which is a small general aviation airport several miles west of the main international airport (SJU) and intended destination. The Isla Grande airport has a single 5,000 ft or so runway while the SJU airport has 10,000 and 8,000 ft runways. In the image below SIG is visible near the upper left and the main SJU airport is seen at right.
This was an odd mistake given that the SIG runway is 9–27 and the runways at SJU are 8–26 and 10–28. I am not a pilot and not sure if this bit is true but I have heard that the 10–28 runway at SJU is intentionally not designated 9–27 to prevent confusion with SIG because it is near the approach path for much SJU’s traffic. Air traffic in San Juan usually comes from the west unless there is some odd weather pattern.
I was not able to find a news report online about this incident so I cannot verify what I am going to say. In order to be able to take off from that short runway they needed to remove the seats and load the least amount possible of fuel to safely do the take off and landing.
They were lucky it was a 757 which had bigger engines than it actually needed and allowed it to take off in a short runway like this. Not sure if other similarly sized aircraft of the time would have been able to pull that feat.
Feminist Boss PANICS After Good Men Stop Applying To Her Company & Glassdoor Reviews Destroy Her
Unusual. Worth the listen.
Do you agree that there is a natural limit to human lifespan? Why or why not?
There is and that limit is 80–100 yrs and for some lucky one’s, they cross the 100 mark! After that we “die”. Nature works in ways we cannot imagine and think about. Nature makes sure that once you’ve bred ( spread your DNA) because that’s the basic purpose of any being which is living… your body slowly starts deteriorating.
You are the best in health when your hormones are at peak/at normal levels which is from 14–35 yrs of age you are in the best state. Exceptions are always there but don’t let that ignore the average.
Once you’ve spread your DNA and done whatever you felt like doing with the best yrs of your life… nature has a way to remove you. How? By killing you and replacing you with your kid or someone else who’ll now consume the resources that otherwise you would’ve done if you were mortal the entire time ( which doesn’t happen). That is how and why you die, so that someone else can use those resources and spread his/her DNA now.
That’s the reason why death is an important part in nature and that’s how it is and that’s how it goes.
Sir Whiskerton and the Booger Bandits: A Tale of Snore-Bubbles, DIY Disasters, and One Very Sticky Kitten
Ah, dear reader, prepare thyself for a tale so gloriously gross that even the scarecrow might demand a hazmat suit. Today’s misadventure begins with a snore, a snoop, and a spectacular misunderstanding involving what Chester insists is "organic caulk." So, grab a tissue (or ten) and join me for Sir Whiskerton and the Booger Bandits.
Act I: The Snore Heard ‘Round the Barn
It all began when Elvis the Rooster, the farm’s resident rockstar, fell asleep mid-rehearsal for his upcoming hit Cluckin’ in the Rain. His snoring—a rhythmic “Uh-huh-huh… gold records…”—was so powerful it rattled the henhouse windows.
Enter Ditto, our echo-kitten, who (as usual) mimicked the noise perfectly—except with one unintended side effect:
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Every snore produced a shimmering, gelatinous… booger bubble.
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“Ooooh!” Ditto gasped, poking one. It jiggled. “Bouncy!”
Act II: The Great “Organic Caulk” Conspiracy
Chester, the chaotic half of the DIY Disaster Duo, stumbled upon Ditto’s bubble factory and gasped.
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“CECIL!” he bellowed. “Look! Free wall insulation!”
Cecil, ever the by-the-book handyman, adjusted his goggles. “That’s… not in the Handyman’s Handbook.”
But Chester was already at work:
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“It’s organic caulk!” he declared, smearing a bubble onto the barn wall. “Eco-friendly! Sustainable!”
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“It’s boogers,” Sir Whiskerton deadpanned.
Cecil, gagging, attempted removal with a salad fork (Chapter 7: Improvised Tools). The fork stuck.
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“The handbook says nothing about this,” Cecil whimpered.
Act III: The Bubble Boom (and Bust)
As Elvis’s snores grew louder, so did the bubbles—until the barn resembled a snotty snow globe.
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Doris the Hen swooned. “It’s modern art!”
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Porkchop licked one. “Salty.”
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Rufus barked at a floating bubble, which popped directly onto his nose. “BLEGH!”
Just as Chester prepared to “insulate” the entire farm, Elvis woke up mid-guitar solo.
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“Uh… y’all redecoratin’?” he drawled, oblivious.
With the snoring stopped, the bubbles hardened into crispy, crusty monuments to poor life choices.
The Moral of the Story
As the farm scraped off the aftermath (using vinegar, regret, and a very angry Gertrude the Goose), Whiskerton sighed.
Moral: Some things don’t need to be “improved”—especially if they’re made of snot.
Post-Credit Scene
Chester proudly displays his “Booger-Based Insulation™” at the county fair. It wins “Most Questionable Life Choice.”
Best Lines:
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“It’s artisanal!” – Chester, smearing bubbles
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“I regret all my life choices.” – Cecil, fork-deep in goo
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“Uh-huh-huh… Grammy…” – Elvis, spawning another bubble
Starring:
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Ditto (Accidental Bubble Artisan)
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Elvis (Unconscious Grammy Winner)
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Cecil & Chester (DIY Disasters)
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Sir Whiskerton (Long-Suffering Sanity Anchor)
Key Jokes:
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Doris auctioning “limited edition” booger bubbles as “abstract moo-dern art.”
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Bessie the Cow insisting the bubbles have “good vibes, man.”
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The Farmer nodding approvingly, then eating a bubble. (“Crunchy.”)
P.S.
Remember: If your DIY project requires a salad fork and a prayer, reconsider.
The End.
Truth or dare
Is it really late to become successful at the age of 28?
There was a woman who lived off Coupons, scrimped up pennies for the bus, had her power cut 7 times due to late payments, often for 4–5 days, had a husband whose child support payments were often delayed
She had a rejected manuscript turned down by 9 Publishers by her 28th Birthday in 1993
One of them called her a Fantasy Tolkien without the talent to actually write
Forget becoming a success, she regarded herself a huge failure
She said her friends often were condescending to her and she borrowed money from a lot of people including her mother and her cousin Phil , the only two people who encouraged her
So if you go to this 28 year old woman, she would have been super depressed and ready to cry a river and her life would have been a nightmare
She was being sued for £ 3,450 by the Local City Council as well
She is a Billionaire today and published the HARRY POTTER NOVELS
Her name is JK Rowling
Her cousin Philip was gifted a flat in Eaton Square worth £ 2.7 Million for his encouragement
At the age of 38, in 2003 - the entire world was waiting for her fifth book ORDER OF THE PHOENIX with a Global Wait list of 62 Million people who paid their money. It was a Guiness Book of World records broken only by HER OWN BOOK DEATHLY HALLOWS which had a Global Wait list of 83 Million People who paid their money
Eight Films with a combined gross of $ 7.739 Billion and a Studio Profit of $ 1.3 Billion
Millions of Books, Reprints and 3,650 Stage Plays in London and Broadway
Did she think at 28, she would achieve all this?
Absolutely not
I don't say you will be another JK Rowling
However this is one example of how much a person's life can swing with a combo of hard work, determination, talent, luck and circumstances
180 Degrees
On a lesser scale, a small time actor named THAMBI RAMAIAH who earned a few thousand per film acting with Vadivelu and other main comedians to eke out a living - until the age of 50 was a nobody and yet suddenly rose to become a favorite character actor who purchased three flats and got an extremely comfortable life he couldn't have dreamed off at the age of 28 Or even 48
His son is married to daughter of Arjun Sarja, a well respected erstwhile star
Life can always change. No time limit. No rules.
JUST DONT GIVE UP
Do your Duty as the Gita says (God did I just quote Hindutva rhetoric 😒😒😒)
Chicken Rondelettes
Yield: 6 large croquettes
Ingredients
- 3 slices whole wheat bread
- 1/4 cup milk
- 2 1/2 cups coarsely chopped chicken or turkey
- 1 cup coarsely chopped onions
- 2 eggs
- 1 teaspoon thyme
- Salt and pepper to taste
- 2 cups seasoned bread crumbs
- 3 tablespoons fresh chopped parsley
- 2 tablespoons paprika
- 3 tablespoons sweet butter, melted
- Vegetable oil, as needed for frying
- 1 tablespoon sweet butter
Instructions
- Cut crusts off bread and reserve for another use. Soak bread in milk for 10 minutes. Squeeze dry and shred.
- In a separate bowl, combine 1 1/2 cups chicken or turkey, bread, onions, eggs, thyme, salt and pepper. Toss well.
- Place mixture in a food processor with the steel blade. Using pulse action, process until mixture is well blended but not puréed.
- Fold in remaining cup of chicken or turkey. Cover and chill for 1 hour.
- Combine bread crumbs, parsley, paprika and melted butter in a pie plate. Stir well with a fork.
- Shape chilled turkey mixture into 6 large patties.
- Coat in bread crumb mixture and return, covered, to refrigerator for 1 more hour.
- Place about 1/2 cup oil and 1 tablespoon butter in skillet over medium heat.
- Cook patties, 3 at a time, 7 minutes on one side, 5 minutes on other side. They should be golden.
- Keep warm in 300 degree F oven and repeat with remaining patties.
- Serve hot, with gravy if desired.
Instead of trying to hide behind tariffs, should the US be asking "Why do we buy so much stuff from abroad and why do foreign countries not buy more US made stuff?"
I have what I think might be a insight into MAGA and the Reactionary Right’s actual reason for these tariffs. And, while Strumpy does not give a damn about their reason, their reason does suit him to a T.
Tariffs are a sales tax. I cannot recall when the far-right began talking about eliminating the Income Tax and imposing a National Sales Tax, but I think it was during the Reagan Administration.
Given that the Republican Party now serves the parochial interests of “The 0.1%” to the exclusion of everyone else’s interests (all instances in which the Rs talk about anyone else’s interest have always proved to be nothing more than false advertising) and “The 0.1%” want to pay NO TAXES on their incomes. They want all the REALLY EXPENSIVE services and benefits US Governments provide to them (often ONLY to them… Has the SEC or Treasury ever provided any service to anyone who was not at least upper middle-class?). A National Sales Tax would, with the elimination of the progressive income tax, shift the cost (eventually the entire cost) of government completely off of the ultra-wealthy and parasitic class onto the rest of us.
Strumpy’s tariffs (which not having been voted for by Congress (it has the sole power to impose tariffs) are both illegal and unconstitutional) are the initial imposition of a National Sales Tax. For the moment this sales tax is only on imported products (that can change). A sort of wedge to get us used to the idea of paying a National Sales Tax on what we buy.
Sales taxes are always regressive. Sales taxes always burden the the working poor most and completely relieve the uber wealthy of ALL taxes. With the tax burden growing lighter as income rises.
For example.
Say that your total income is $45,000 a year. You pay your rent (no sales tax on that) and the utilities (which are already highly taxed). Beyond that, you spend every penny of your income just getting by. Assuming your rent and utilities take up 30% of your income, you are taxed on every penny of that $30,000 which is 70% of your income.
Now assume your total income is $1.5 million. You pay your house payment, the butler, the housekeeper, the gardener, the nanny, utilities and the rest and those also amount to 30% of your income. Now you spend a couple hundred thousand on new carpets, this year’s new car, another $5,000 suit, a Rolex watch, and whatever. Then you invest $850K in Treasury Notes. You pay NO sales tax on the $850K. You paid the National Sales Tax only on he $200K you spent. You are taxed on only 13.3% of your income.
BUT… you continue to benefit from all the very expensive financial services (attorneys and finance people are highly paid) you receive from the US Government… that you did not make a meaningful contribution to paying for.
These tariffs are just the camel’s nose under the tent. But I am confident that us working stiffs are all going hate it when that camel gets entirely inside your tent.
I Deleted His Game to Test Him — He Didn't Yell, He Just Erased Me From His Life
Is the US winning the tariff war?
Unfortunately, the United States did not win what it wanted in the trade war.
On the contrary, the trade war deepened the distrust of the United States among its allies and prompted other partner countries to start looking for other partners.
Since 6 August, the United States has imposed punitive tariffs of up to 50% on Brazilian goods. In response to the impact, the Brazilian government has swiftly introduced a series of economic relief measures, initiated international dispute resolution mechanisms, and accelerated efforts to diversify trade, aiming to reduce reliance on the U.S. market.
South Africa stated that the United States is attempting to curb its own economic downturn while hindering the rise of other countries, which is fundamentally an issue of international competition and the weaponisation of trade and industrial policies. If we are excluded from the U.S. market, we will continue to deepen our relations with other developed countries and the Global South.
Within the United States, the Bureau of Industry and Security of the U.S. Department of Commerce issued an announcement on the 19th, stating that 407 categories of steel and aluminium derivative products would be included in the tariff list, with an applicable rate of 50%. Many companies are concerned that this move by the U.S. government will increase costs and deal a heavy blow to corporate profit margins. Based on the total value of imports in 2024, U.S. steel and aluminium tariffs currently affect at least $320 billion worth of imported goods. Expanding the scope of the steel and aluminium tariff list will further increase inflationary pressure on rising prices.
The chain reaction triggered by the Trump administration's trade policies could result in a reduction of up to $490 billion in U.S. manufacturing investments by 2029. Due to trade uncertainties, businesses may postpone investments such as new factory construction, production facility upgrades, research and development expenditures, and purchases of advanced manufacturing equipment. Delaying such investments not only slows down innovation but may also result in job losses at factories, reduced supply chain resilience, and weakened U.S. competitiveness on a global scale.
Manufacturing has not returned to the United States; instead, it has become even more uncertain. Manufacturers are particularly sensitive to policy fluctuations because decisions such as building factories and purchasing advanced equipment require years of planning and involve high costs, making them difficult to reverse once implemented.
Echoes Of The Cosmos
Written in response to: "Set your story after aliens have officially arrived on Earth."
Anna W
“This seems promising! I’ll be back by dinner, kiddo. Don’t start without me,” he had said, kissing Taylor on the forehead. He hugged Donna, who was terse because she didn’t want him to go. She turned her head, letting him kiss her on the cheek, before he left.
“They’re not all your responsibility, Daniel,” she called out after him, when he was halfway down the driveway. He turned his head and smiled at her. They’d had many conversations like this before. Dad was never one to neglect his duty, though.
“Unity is the constellation of harmony, my love,” he had called back lovingly, a gleam of light twinkled in his eye.
Taylor knew that her mother still felt guilty about this exchange. She often reminded her mother that this last exchange wasn’t representative of their relationship. Taylor had basked in the warmth of the love that radiated out from her parents. Because of their love for each other, her home was a refuge of support. They were a bastion of hope for their people, despite all the turmoil.
High school turmoil seemed laughable now. It often does, when you graduate and realize there are much bigger worlds out there. But at the time her father disappeared, Taylor was on the cusp of her high school graduation. It had been her biggest concern.
She avoided the mean girls, who picked up on every unspoken insecurity like it was a competition to see who could spot the most weaknesses in others. She always struggled at first, to blend in, but eventually found a place. She relaxed amongst a few peers in the middle of the weird social hierarchy in her rural high school. She learned. Observed. Blending in was their primary goal, after all.
Her mother’s gentle hand on her cheek brought her back to the present.
“I’ve worried you, dear. I’m sorry. I just… I’ve been thinking about it for days now, and it’s the only thing that makes sense. They’ve finally figured it out, and now they’re going to announce to the world that aliens have landed on earth.” Donna’s mouth grimaced and her eyes brimmed over with tears.
Taylor’s own tears cascaded down her cheeks in response. She couldn't bear to see her mother cry.
“Surely not. If they’ve had him all this time, that means– No. Maybe he just...” She choked on the words.
“My darling, your father would never leave us. He didn’t get in an accident. A single human could never have hurt him. Not with their under-evolved muscles and over-evolved confidence. I went to exactly the spot he had mapped out, to check on the fallen craft. He said it looked like the Zephyr Mariner craft that brought us here 25 years ago. Same flight pattern. Same speed.”
“Do you think he’s been in a cell for the past year being interrogated? Or in some kind of terrible lab being poked and prodded?” Taylor shuddered at the thought. Bile rose in her throat every time her mind went down this road.
“I don’t know, sweetheart,” her mother said, her voice becoming gentler. “I pray to Cosmonir every day that he didn’t get caught. That if he got into trouble, he found a way to get to a safe place. Or a way to use the craft to communicate with home and get some reinforcements. We checked everywhere around the reported area that people saw the craft, though, and… nothing. Not even a scrap of metal, just another crop circle. Not the right pattern, so it was probably done by bored teenagers.” Donna’s eyes fell back to her hands as she continued crocheting the Blanket of Doom.
The grief sank in Taylor’s chest as she sat in the sea of purple. She thought this feeling would get better over time, but it never really did. She always felt the same crushing dread that her father was being tortured somewhere. She sometimes had nice dreams of her home planet but those usually melted into nightmares of being strapped to a gurney and poked with needles. Sometimes it was crowds of people in S.W.A.T. gear busting into their home and dragging them away.
Though she was born on Earth, Taylor often dreamed of Luminara. A world of light, peace, and untold beauty. Or at least, that’s what her parents told her. Her childhood memories brimmed with stories of their home planet. Tales of rolling oceans made of colorful flowers and vines. Massive ships made of bright silver metals, sailing atop them as they undulated in the breeze. Trees as tall as skyscrapers, always teeming with life. Many millennia of peace amongst her people.
Taylor often dreamed of her father on her home planet, but she wasn’t sure why. She had told her mother about these dreams at first. She assumed her subconscious was working through grief and hiding them inside the beauty of the stories she’d heard her whole life. Perhaps her mind was trying to cover the horrific grief of the loss of her father, with the beauty of a world where he still existed. If only in her mind. Her dreams eventually started upsetting her mother though, so Taylor kept them to herself these days.
They were silent for several minutes, with the news muted on the living room television. A 24-hour news show was on. A terrible invention, really. Whose idea was it to broadcast the worst of human’s challenges and then speculate about the worst possible ways these things could turn out? Anything for ratings, these days.
Taylor and Donna sat in silence for a few moments.
“I am grateful for the time I had with you and dad. And the time you and I have had together, since… you know… since he’s been gone. I’m not glad he’s gone of course,” Taylor stuttered through her sappy speech, her mom nodding along. She understood. “But I want to say that sometimes– it’s just that sometimes I wish we’d never come here. I wish you and dad weren’t given this assignment, and that I’d been born on Luminara. Maybe he’d still be with us then…”
Donna grasped Taylor's face, leaning in until their foreheads touched. Tears stained the purple yarn an even deeper hue.
“Taylor. Darling. I understand why you feel that way. I think about that all the time! It’s okay to feel how you feel, grief is not linear. You’ll take some steps forward and then sometimes you’ll take some steps backward. You'll never love your father less, just because he's gone. But you will get stronger. It won't always be so consuming..." she trailed off, and then ducked her chin. "Look, I’m sorry, I’m not saying this well. Your dad was the Communication Specialist, not me.”
Taylor rolled her eyes and chuckled at her mom’s corny joke. Dad’s specialty had been building and using communication equipment, not communicating with words. Although, he did always seem to know the right words to say. She knew her mother was trying to lighten the mood.
“All I’m saying,” Donna continued on, ‘is that we came here with a purpose. We have to watch the humans and report if they are getting close to creating technology that would allow them to travel in space. We’ve seen what they do when they discover something new, so we can’t allow them to have access to Luminara. Not yet. Not until they decide to become a more peaceful species.”
“I know, I know. Unity is the constellation of harmony,” Taylor said robotically.
Taylor felt the struggle of a war within herself. She wanted to comfort her mother, but also wanted to share her own fears. She wanted to abandon the mission, but it was all she'd ever known. She wanted to go back to before he disappeared. She wished she could time travel back to the days when all she had to worry about was physics homework and mapping out a path to working at NASA.
The war inside of her continued raging. She kept her lips sealed against the onslaught of fear and doubt that wanted to pour out of her.
Donna could feel the shift in Taylor, the stress building. She leaned in to her daughter, tucking her under her arm, and placing Taylor's head back on her shoulder. Even at eighteen years old, Taylor breathed in the comfort of her mother's embrace. She'd never take it for granted. Not when it could be gone in an instant.
“I am worried too, sweetheart. All we can do is wait, though. I’ve been checking the message boards for chatter spikes, every day. I check the safety point once a week to make sure he isn’t there. We haven’t had any activity on the Stellar Transceiver since the night your father… disappeared.” Donna’s breath hitched on the word.
“Why aren’t they communicating with us, though? Shouldn’t we tell them he’s disappeared and get some help or something?” Taylor asked, hopeful for more connections to her homeworld. Hopeful that they’d have the power to find him and bring him home.
“It doesn’t work that way, my sweet girl. We send the right signals out, only if the humans seem like their technology is growing to the point of danger. We don’t get signals back, unless they are extracting us. It’s too risky, otherwise. Your father and I knew we were accepting a lifelong mission when we came here. I know it’s hard, and I know it’s had consequences for you as well. But… even so,” her mother said, her voice becoming stronger and more stoic, “We must continue on. We must not be distracted, dragged away, deluded, delayed, or denied from completing the mission at hand. We are…” She looked at Taylor, eyebrows raising expectantly.
Taylor knew it by heart, as she’d repeated the mantra with her parents every night before bed.
“We are silent spectators. Invisible inquisitors. Whispering watchers. Vigilantly veiled visitors. Unseen observers. Star dwellers in shadows. Camouflaged and cautious. We are unearthly and unseen. We are the echoes of the cosmos.”
A notice came across the screen of the TV, and caught both of their attention. The president was going to be holding a press conference and making some sort of announcement, in a few hours. Donna and Taylor exchanged a look that was a mix of heavy emotions. They both had an eagerness for answers, and felt the dread of what those answers would mean for their family, and the families of the many worlds beyond earth.
The aliens had already landed on earth long ago, but have the humans finally figured it out?
They would watch and see.
Homemade Worm Composter (for a Few Bucks)
Introduction: Homemade Worm Composter (for a Few Bucks)
More by the author:
Worm compost or vermicompost is the product of decomposition in the worm digestive system. Yes, it is worm poop. And it's really good for plants because it's rich in many nutrients.
How does it work?
In short, you give your worms vegetable leftovers, they process it and create the compost.
How does it help keep the Earth green?
Worm compost is a perfect fertilizer and thanks to the rich nutrient content, it's pretty universal - I use it for tomatoes as well as orange trees and decorative plants. It's not just the compost though, the secondary product called worm tea is also great for fertilizing. Therefore, you get rid of vegetable leftovers in a sustainable way and you get an ecological fertilizer. No need to drive to the shop, no need to get it shipped.
And one HUGE advantage! The worm compost doesn't smell, so you can keep the composter in your kitchen!
How much does it cost?
Worm composters are in fashion right now and they are sometimes much more expensive that they need to be. Several years ago, I decided to make a few vermicomposters for our little farm and I didn't want to spend much money on it. In the end, I made 4 smaller composters that cost me around 40 USD but it's because I wanted to get them close and fast rather than cheaper and having to wait. As for the worms, I would recommend you to look not just at e-shops but also individuals who sell them. Where I live, I can get around 200 worms (good for small kitchen composter) for around the equivalent of 4 USD.
Do you like sustainable projects? Check out Recycle & Upcycle!
Supplies
For one composter, you need:
- 2 plastic buckets
- 1 lid
- drilling machine with a drill of approx. 0.4 in (don't worry if it's larger or smaller, you just don't want the holes to bee extremely large)
- worms - red wigglers
- 2 handfuls of earth
- optional: shredded egg carton, coconut shell shreds
- optional: yoghurt cup, piece of wood...I'll explain later
The buckets can be of any size you like but both should be the same size. I recommend getting buckets that get thinner towards the bottom OR that have a rim. The point is that you have to put one bucket inside the other and there needs to be space left between their bottoms. If your buckets don't fulfill any of these requirements, I'll show you a solution later.
The lid must fit the bucket.
Step 1: Drill Holes
Drill holes in the bottom of ONE of the buckets. I like to drill them in a regular fashion but you can drill them randomly, just make sure there isn't a large space without a hole. (pictures 1 and 2)
Drill holes just under the rim of the same bucket, all around the circumference of the bucket. (picture 3)
Drill holes in the lid. (picture 4)
Place the bucket with the holes inside the bucket without holes. Cover with a lid. The bucket is ready to be filled. (picture 5)
If your buckets are touching at the bottom and there's no space left, place an upside down plastic yoghurt cup or a piece of wood in the center of the lower bucket. This space is absolutely necessary, that is where the excess liquid will go. (picture 6)
Step 2: Fill the Bucket
When I started with this type of composting, I was told there should be a layer that soaks in the excess liquid at the bottom of the upper bucket. I ended up not liking this and not needing it because I don't deal with excessively humid worm compost. However, keep this in mind in case you live in a more humid place, then this might come handy. (picture 1)
If you didn't get worms with earth, put a little earth at the bottom of the upper bucket. (picture 2)
Place the worms on the earth. (picture 3)
Give them something to eat (see next step) and stir the food in a little. (picture 4)
New worms take several weeks to settle in and start producing properly, so don't worry if you don't see much happening at the beginning. After some time, things will go really fast and you might even feel like you don't feed them fast enough.
Step 3: Feed the Worms and Care for Them
There have been enough blogs and books written about how to feed the worms and keep them well and alive so I won't go into details but I'll share a few basics. First of all, even if you see a 200-page book of worm composting, don't let it scare you off, it's pretty easy.
This is what works for me:
I give the worms only vegetables, fruit tends to catch mold. If I want to give them fruit leftovers, I give them only a very small amount and mix it in the earth properly. But as for the present, I avoid fruit completely, it's easier than checking for mold and I use the fruit for another type of compost. I cut the vegetables in small pieces, this way, they process it faster. I do this especially with vegetables with higher sugar content like red pepper that is more prone to catching mold.
I find green vegetable parts are the best but just figure out what works for you, also different varieties of the same vegetable may work differently (the worms might like one more than another).
About once every two months, I mix a spoonful of worm minerals in the earth.
I watch the humidity of the compost. If it's too wet, it means the liquid isn't draining well and the worms literally drown. If it's too dry, the worms die as well. The ideal humidity is slightly damp, so you can form a ball in your hand but it's not muddy. If the compost is too wet, put some shredded egg cardboard in the compost and consider making more holes in the bottom of the upper bucket. Also, check if the bottom bucket is full of liquid and the upper bucket stands with its bottom in this liquid.
If the compost is too dry, pour or spray just a little clean water on the compost and stir it in. At least in my case, if I don't stir in the water, the compost catches mold.
Worms prefer temperatures 53-77°F/12 - 25°C. I never keep them at lower temperatures but I quite usually have them at 95°F/35°C in summer and they are always just fine.
Step 4: Harvest
After a while, you'll see that the veggie leftovers are disappearing and there's more of what looks like black earth, this is the compost. (picture 1)
A compost ready to harvest has no leftovers or very little and you might even notice small round pieces resembling coffee beans. (picture 2)
To harvest worm tea, simply remove the upper bucket and use the liquid in the lower bucket. It's strong and it might burn some plants, so better mix it in water. I use the ratio 1:10 (1 part of worm tea in 10 parts of water).
To harvest compost, I use one of these two ways:
- Fast way: If I need compost fast, I use the fact that worms are sensitive to light. I extend the compost over a plastic sheet in a layer that is about 2 inches thick. The worms escape to the bottom to avoid light and I harvest the top layer. Then I return the worms to the bucket.
- Slow way: This takes around two weeks (or more) but if I have the time, I do it this way because it's let work, less moving of the compost. I start feeding the worms just in one spot in the bucket. Slowly, they move to this spot and in a few weeks, I harvest all the compost but this spot and a little around to avoid grabbing worms.
Step 5: What If Mold Appears?
Even if you do everything right, mold is a sneaky beast and I recommend checking your compost every few days even between feeding. You just need to lift the lid and look. If there's mold, don't panic. Scoop it with a spoon with some earth around and a little under and throw that piece out. I recommend leaving the bucket open and in the light (not direct sunlight but in mild light or at the window) for a day. Light helps keep the mold away. Often checking helps noticing the mold soon, so the damage is minimal and you just need to throw away a little of the compost. A little mold is no reason to throw away all the compost!
Step 6: Is Your Bucket Full?
If you get to the point where your bucket is getting full because you probably haven't harvested the compost for a long time, you basically do what I described in the previous step as the slow way. You will need another bucket with holes in its bottom. You place this new bucket in the bucket with the compost (so now you have stacked 3 buckets), you place some compost at the bottom and start putting the food there. The worms will move in the new bucket through the holes. This only works when there's no food left in the full bucket.
Which country is poorer than most people think?
Korea. No doubt.
Many foreigners think that Korea as a whole is a very wealthy, modern, and sophisticated country, often because of misleading Korean media such as K-pop and K-drama (the entire K-industry). This view is not entirely wrong, but South Korea’s prosperity and development are often concentrated very narrowly in just a few wealthy neighborhoods.
As soon as you leave an affluent urban area, you stumble upon a slum with terrible living conditions. Don't get me wrong. Every country (even wealthy ones) has a region like this, but I was really surprised to see such poverty in South Korea. Especially since I went to Japan a while ago. Japan also has poverty, but it is generally much richer and more developed than South Korea. Due to the influence of international media, I mistakenly assumed that South Korea would be similar to, or almost as developed as, Japan (I didn’t think they were the same). I always knew that Japan was richer. But I thought it was more comparable). In addition to the media, we have noticed that South Korea often appears to be a very rich and prosperous country, thanks to extreme poverty in North Korea.
It wasn’t long after I arrived in South Korea, on the very first day, that I first saw urban poverty in the country. One of the first tourist attractions we visited was Seoul Fortress, the ruins of the Joseon Dynasty. Walking around the area, I was shocked at how poor it was. The entire region was dotted with rundown houses in terrible condition, never seen in a "developed" country like South Korea. And in the middle of this slum was a luxury hotel (I think it was a JW Marriott), which I don’t remember exactly. I was shocked by the contrast. Who wants to stay in such a luxury hotel in a slum?
Below is a photo of Seoul's city walls taken from Wikipedia.
If you look in the bottom right corner, you can see abandoned houses and huts. However, this area is rendered much better than the original.
The slums of Seoul are often right next to upscale residential neighborhoods, creating a sharp contrast that is common in South Africa. This surprised me. Seoul is one of the few places in the world where you can walk for just 10 minutes and watch the transition from glittering modern skyscrapers to crowded, dirty residential neighborhoods, sometimes filled with roadside beggars (the situation for residents here only gets worse in winter).
There are many others, but South Korea is generally a much poorer country than I expected. Not to mention the "Korean Boo" who think of Korea as a magical "paradise".
PS: I have no antipathy towards Korea or Koreans at all, but I think this is something that needs clarification, and this is an outspoken opinion from my experience traveling in Korea (I think there are many others who disagree).
Pictures
I Accused Him of Milking It While He Was Down—He Made A Decision That Ended Everything
Can coal be burned clean? What obstacles stop coal from being used?
Okay, first let’s get a few things straight. There’s “coal” and there’s “coal”.
This is anthracite. It’s beautiful. It’s as hard as any rock and it’s nearly pure carbon. However, most U.S. reserves of this stuff were exhausted 100 years ago and production of it has been falling ever since.
This is bituminous coal. It’s pretty good. It’s over 90% carbon. It’s noticeably softer - what you probably think of when you think “coal”.
This is sub-bituminous coal. A bit under 90% carbon, but softer still. This is the most common kind of coal that gets mined and used nowadays.
And this crap is lignite. It’s about 75% carbon. It also contains a fair amount of water. There’s loads of this stuff left on the planet.
So, let’s go over one by one the problem with using coal for pretty much anything
The less carbon in the coal, the cooler it burns, and the dirtier it burns.
Anthracite burns fairly well as it’s mostly carbon and has very little water and very few impurities. However the further down you go, the more by-products you get. In the less pure forms, sulfur is a big problem and makes corrosive sulfur dioxide gas, which turns into sulfuric acid when combined with water (hence “acid rain”, one of the big reasons a lot of coal was phased out in the 1980s)
Coal fires have to be stoked, and they’re dirtier at the beginning.
To get a really nice coal fire takes time. Unlike oil and gas which reach full temperature immediately upon ignition, as anyone who barbecues knows getting a coal fire going takes time, and during those early stages you get more carbon that didn’t actually burn (meaning carbon particles that can get into lungs and love sticking to stuff) or that burned incompletely (so carbon monoxide). For something like a coal power electricity plant, you’re looking at at least five hours before the coal is ready to start boiling water, and maybe as long as 24 hours.
You can’t turn them on and off at will
If you don’t need the heat, well, you can’t just turn it off. As long as it has oxygen, it will continue to burn.
It produces a whole lot of waste
This is coal ash, which is the part of the coal that wasn’t carbon or water. You just pile it up and hope there’s not a big rainfall that washes it all into a nearby river or something.
Oh, and global warming
The atomic weight of carbon is about 6 and the atomic weight of oxygen is about 8, so for every ton of carbon you burn you create about 3.5 tons of carbon dioxide.
So, even if you do a good job of keeping your coal really hot and really pure so it burns at an efficient temperature, you’re still talking sulfur dioxide pollution, carbon monoxide, carbon particles, ash that’s pretty much useless for anything and you contribute to global warming.
Chicken with Golden Raisins, Green Olives and Lemon
Yield: 6 servings
Ingredients
- 1 (3 1/2 to 4 pound) whole chicken, cut into eight parts
- 2 tablespoons olive oil
- 1 teaspoon salt
- 1/2 teaspoon black pepper
- 2 cloves garlic, minced
- 1 teaspoon turmeric
- 1 teaspoon freshly grated ginger
- 1 (2 inch) stick cinnamon
- 2 lemons, one juiced and the other sliced
- 1 cup chicken stock
- 2 potatoes, peeled and cut into 1/2 inch thick slices
- 4 carrots, peeled and sliced thin
- 1 cup golden raisins
- 1/2 cup pimento-stuffed Spanish olives
Instructions
- Heat oven to 400 degrees F.
- In large nonstick pan or Dutch oven, warm oil over medium high heat.
- Sprinkle chicken pieces with salt and pepper. Add chicken pieces to pan and brown on all sides, turning at least once. Remove chicken from pan and set aside.
- Lower heat to medium. Add to pan garlic, turmeric, ginger and cinnamon stick; cook, stirring constantly, for 15 seconds.
- Pour lemon juice and stock into pan, stirring to scrape up browned bits.
- Place chicken back in pan. Add potatoes, carrot slices, raisins, olives and lemon slices to pan around the chicken pieces. Raise heat to high and bring to a boil. Cover pan and place in hot oven for 45 minutes.
- Remove lid and continue to cook for another 10 minutes, or until cooked through.
- Serve immediately with parsley-flecked couscous.
Tariffs are a headache but have a surprise upshot: the U.S. is raking in billions more than expected. What are your thoughts on this?
I wonder where that money is coming from . . .
Oh that’s right! It’s us! Wake up you sheep.
Visitant
Written in response to: "Set your story after aliens have officially arrived on Earth."
Martin Ross
Suddenly, the braying cries of victory and cruelty to come just…ceased. A new, pungent smell filled Oscar’s nostrils. A smell familiar from glorious moments with friends and family – no, the odor that had caused Oscar to gag at the roadside ditch where he’d so recently cradled Nicole as she wailed over the cartel-charred remains of her Primo Tio.
More strange chatter, this time lower, calmer, in a timbre Oscar had never before heard, even in the hokey old monster movies his ancient abuelo loved so. He yelled for Nicole to keep her head down, and averted his eyes from the shadows that loomed over them, from the glimpses of these new invaders. Something too long, too wide, with too many joints and a cool feel, rested on his shoulder. And, it would seem, patted him with a rhythmic cooing. His wrists sprung free, and he finally looked up at the one freeing his Nicole.
“¡Por favor!,” he pleaded again, weakly. “¡Mi esposa está embarazada!”
**
“Some people call it an ‘invasion,' it’s like an invasion. They have violently overrun the Mexican border,” the TV over the counter blared. The voice was simultaneously venomous and childishly confident, like many of the preening national politicians back home who sounded somewhat like they were impaired in the brain. The speaker, El Jefe himself, was orange – not simply his thick, bizarrely piled hair, but his skin as well.
Oscar might have giggled, and he could have without danger, possibly for the first time in days. The diner across the highway from the packed Walmart was populated entirely with the Ruizes’ predecessors across the border, those with papers and U.S.-born grandchildren who still nearly daily were detained by ICE, by the border patrol, by flushed and spitting Norteamericanos to whom Spanish was an invitation to warfare. Primo Tomas, still in his Brownsville Sanitation Department uniform, had seized the both of them, too jubilant to ask questions Oscar did not want to answer (chiefly at their sudden, early materialization safe and astoundingly sound near the cotton fields just north of town), and rushed them immediately to Daniela’s Cantino to revive their bodies and spirits with platter after platter of meat the newly arrived father-to-be willed himself to devour until will no longer was necessary.
“They’ve overrun the Mexican police, and they’ve overrun and hurt badly Mexican soldiers,” the bloated man – like, who, Jabba from the Star Wars movie? -- added. Tomas uttered a single curse; Nicole laughed his apology away, studying the closed captioning en Espanol. The title “Invasión Alienígena” half-covered the banner “Alien Invasion At The Border: A Fox Special Report.”
El Hombre Naranja paused for hoots and arm-waving. “So this isn’t an innocent group of people. It’s a large number of people that are tough. They’ve injured, they’ve attacked, and the Mexican police and military has actually suffered.”
“Fucking imbecil,” Tomas grunted, impaling a wad of carnitas. He looked again to Nicole, and then to Oscar, who shook his head with a grin and gulped at his second piquant Michelada. Then he sobered for a moment as the 51-inch Samsung translated The Orange Man’s words.
They’d soon go looking for the Border Patrol team – the inhuman squad willing, what, to leave them to die in the desert, or to haul them in for deportation back into the cartels’ Hell? The ongoing diatribe about the “aliens,” the illegals, this invasion of waiters and dishwashers and landscapers and conserjes -- would rise to a shrill and murderous pitch when or more likely if they found anything of the ICE team. Oscar could ID little of their tormentors’ remains beyond the leader's twisted mirrored black sunglasses. The logical assumption would be that the incinerated mounds Oscar’d witnessed following their liberation were the product of cartel retaliation. But for what? They weren’t the ones fighting for their escape, for a new life where Arcilla – they’d fixed on the “Altar of Heaven” after being conveyed across the swinging gates of Hell – might just have a chance of a future among humans.
No matter, Oscar realized – logic seemingly had no place here. They simply would point to the brutal savagery of the “aliens.” And it was quite savage. As a devout Catholic, he’d silently recited La Senal De La Cruz for those Nicole’s saviors had dispatched. He had not forgotten that brief flash of compassion the female agent had betrayed, nor how quickly it vanished.
As for the rest, Oscar pondered briefly why these visitantes celestial, these visitors from the heavens, had intervened. And why there had seemed something unfathomably familiar about them. It hadn’t been until they’d been deposited on the rural road that he’d remembered watching some ridiculous old, grainy American show with his dying abuelo -- this one with Mr. Spock going on in his mismatched dubbed tones about monsters and ghosts and ancient Gods. And outer space aliens. Oscar was more absorbed by the legendary Vulcan – Star Trek was a universal language -- but now, recalling the petroglyphs Senor Nimoy presented as evidence, he realized what great artists his Aztec ancestors truly were.
Spock in his turtleneck suggested the Aztec pyramids were built by giant gods at the end of one of the destructions of the world, by ice, fire, or water. The City of the Gods, Teotihuacan, was built at the beginning of one of the four worlds, his abuelo had related before sending him for another illicit cerveza. How this one ends, who knows, Oscar mused.
“¿En qué estás pensando, primo?” Tomas teased. Oscar grinned foolishly, and looked over to where Tomas’ wife and sisters were dispensing advice to his plump Nicole.
Enough with such thoughts, Oscar scolded. For all that lie ahead, this was a beginning, or as much a beginning as he might have dreamed.
What's your take on the online gambling bill putting an end to a major chunk of the Indian sports industry?
The Great Lee Kuan Yew once said
Banning a vice like gambling or sex and is never a good thing and always leads to a black market. Instead the key is to REGULATE and CONTROL the vice and make sure it follows acceptable norms
He legalized Sex in the form of Fish Bowls in the Lorongs of Geylang , Raffles Place & Desker Road with regular health checkups, registration of sex workers etc
He introduced Singapore Pools and came up with the Lottery, 4D, Toto and sports based betting all of which had Government regulations and oversight
China has a huge Sports Lottery and Welfare Lottery which rakes up Billions of Yuan into the economy
A 2 Yuan bet can net between 10 Yuan to 27 Million Yuan (Jackpot)
Sports Lotteries are like Sports betting on Basketball Soccer, Athletics, Table Tennis & Badminton and on outcomes
All other gambling is absolutely illegal
Whatever China does is GOSPEL to me
If China says Online sports betting and gambling is illegal then kudos to Government of India for banning them
My own opinion is different
Nationalize Gambling!!!!
Create a National Gambling Syndicate with 60% GOI stake and 30% Private Stake and organize Sports based Gambling and Lottery systems
Of course Modiji is more likely to hand over such a syndicate to some Patel and Shah or Adani or Ambani
So let's see how this develops
I for one like State Controlled Gambling but I would rather have NO GAMBLING than have Private Syndicates control Gambling