We should hire the unemployed; they are eager to work.
Here’s one that I recently hired to wash my dishes. No tipping was necessary, either. Win/win situation.
Trouble is, she won’t leave after finishing and asks for even more work.
Anybody ever hear of the chemical “bud nip”?! Learn about it here…
In the 1980’s I lived on Glen Drive, in Hudson, New Hampshire with my two teens. I grew a variety of vegetables and canned high acid foods and pickled some others. Having only a front yard available for planting, the rest of the property wooded, folks in the neighborhood didn’t like seeing my little raised bed on the small hillside out front. Regardless, no one stopped me, though I was told that they didn’t like seeing it. The garden was close to the walkway and front door of the split-entry home, and well away from the street.
Why not? Was it me they didn’t want to see? Was it my makeshift gathered-from-the-woods raised bed? New England has rocky soil and digging out all the rocks became too much, so I built ↑ up. The woodchucks were happy – they moved in, under one side of the garden plot. Determined to satisfy…
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Some wise words in today’s times…
Growing up in a middle class house in America was really a blessing. We learned early on about manners and the importance of following the basic rules we would need later on in life. There were rules like
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A moving authorship…if that is a word.
We should all be like this…
The kindness continues to flow from Hiroshima. As written in a prior short story, “An Atomic Spark from a 1937 Yearbook“, Ms. Kanetou was credited with locating the last copy of my dad’s 1937 high school yearbook. It was amazing she found that copy as Dad’s cherished high school and the city itself was obliterated on August 6, 1945.
While Dad is suffering from dementia, he cheerfully recalled his high school track days in detail while looking through his yearbook… He went so far as to say he won 1st and 2nd places at track and field events. Needless to say, I was a bit leery given his status.
Well, dumbfounded is the best word in this case. Ms. Kanetou – after learning of Dad’s recollections of his competitions – actually tracked down (yes, a pun) records of the track events from 1936. Such kindness and devotion is just phenomenal. They are below; since I know you all can read Japanese, my Dad’s name is above the red arrows (金本).
Yes, he DID take 1st and 2nd places in the triple-jump, broad jump, 100 meter dash and the 800 meter relay! He did place lower in what I think are more regional competitions but its clear he was quite an athlete.
But when I showed him these reports, his comment was, “5th place? Did I do that bad? I don’t remember that. Pumpkin head!”
金籐様、塚本様、二人のお蔭様で父はとてもハッピーでした。有難う御座いました。
Ahmmm… For those who prefer Park Avenue…like me.
Punctuality is not my strong point. Memory is not my strong point either. That is why, two months after the fact, I am finally going to share with you my kids’ first branding experience. Hey, better late than never right?
On this ranch, they go about the business of ‘marking the cattle as their own’ a little differently than most. When you think branding you probably think fire, roping, and wrestling the little buggers to the ground. And for a small group of calves here, that’s how it goes. For the big bunch though, they have a much faster more efficient way of getting the job done. This ranch doesn’t have a huge crew working for them. It’s the two owners, father and son, and their two hired hands. That would be Jason.
They might hire another guy for a couple of days to help brand, but for the most part…
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Jeans are really made by Calvin Klein. Tight. Unfortunately (or fortunately if you’re lucky), they follow your body lines. A deviation from your body lines is not possible.
Oops. Old age. Genes is the topic. Duh. Genes follow your (family) lines. Deviation is not possible.
There’s something about genetics that is pure fascination. People will like you because of your genes. People will hate you because of your genes. Regardless, you got them from somebody from up the line.
There is an orchestration in genetics which is more difficult to discern as generations pass. But genes don’t conk out. Genes are the only unbroken thread that weaves back and forth through all those cemeteries – or urns in my family’s case.
My grandmother Ikuyo Shibayama (on my mother’s side) was born in 1903; her parents were of samurai heritage. Believe me, my mother drilled that into my head. Brainwashing was very effective.
Around 1911, it was fortunate my grandmother had a portrait taken of her taken in Kanagawa, Japan. She was about eight or nine years old and is standing on the left.
Just about 100 years later, I took this snap of my littlest daughter Brooke when she was a flower girl at my second cousin’s wedding in 2010. Brooke was eight years old. Born in 2003. Exactly 100 years after my Grandmother. Genetics? What do you think?
Perhaps Calvin Klein was around a hundred years ago.
A view on drug dealing and life by Chatter Master.
In an earlier blog, I praised Old Man Jack for his forgiveness. It is not possible to write about what he did or saw out on the god-forsaken islands in the Pacific during World War II. Only he truly knew what was in his soul.
But in spite of his exposure to combat in that very personal and bitter war, Jack’s practice of forgiveness was his most important contribution to the healing of this world. The world we enjoy today. I truly believe that.
Old man Jack loved my kids – perhaps his warmth and the forgiveness in his heart will shine through.
Masako and Spam Musubi 