The question, or Telling...
I'm on my second day with no coffee could mean I've done two days with no black-mantra.
[02-02, 10:10 a.m.] Jiminy: 🤯
[02-02, 10:10 a.m.] Jiminy: Don't know how you do it
[02-02, 10:11 a.m.] Jiminy: You should have a glass of Apple cider vinegar to start your metabolism if no coffee. I usually do both.
[02-02, 10:12 a.m.] Jiminy: Or I use balsamic vinegar instead, but the cheaper alternative is apple cider vinegar
[02-02, 10:12 a.m.] Jiminy: One's like a $4 bottle another a $40 bottle.
[02-02, 10:14 a.m.] Jiminy: I suppose I'm going to move towards the apple cider vinegar next time. I have been using my credit card like I am a child. I am thinking of a movie on impulses. And purchasing power 🔋 is chaotic and recklessly spending out of budget
[02-02, 10:14 a.m.] Jiminy: I got to get ahold of my money 💵 this month.
[02-02, 10:15 a.m.] Jiminy: No more fancy vinegar
[02-02, 10:16 a.m.] Jiminy: No more pants. I'm on strike. Underwear only from now on. And indeed, no cigars, except on weekends
[02-02, 10:18 a.m.] Jiminy: In part, only some of that will transpire as pants, or my dog 🐶heat pants are awkward enough. Those might conflict. And I must finish this vinegar and as such. A cigar a day keeps the doctor away, as the saying goes. No cigar....a Santorum draws straws.
[02-02, 10:21 a.m.] Jiminy: Or Sanctorum meaning might differ from sanctimonious even as sanatorium meaning differs.
[02-02, 10:23 a.m.] Jiminy: Taking the c means no cigar in my books 📚 and does the figure have something to do in my needling/hands.
[02-02, 10:27 a.m.] Benjamin Wills: I have apple cider pills
[02-02, 10:28 a.m.] Benjamin Wills: Tried Vinegar
[02-02, 10:28 a.m.] Benjamin Wills: Dried
As of today, I'll write a few memories of groundhog day over the decades.
I thought of some people reading this today and having tea. This painter, I believed, could have been a famous Quebecois/NS/PEI Canadian painter. https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Norman_Rockwell
As she stood in front of her 5th-grade class on the very first day of school, she told the children an untruth. Like most teachers, she looked at her students and said that she loved them all the same. However, that was impossible, because they're in the front row, slumped in his seat, was a little boy named Teddy Stoddard.
Mrs. Thompson had watched Teddy the year before and noticed that he did not play well with the other children, that his clothes were messy and that he constantly needed a bath. In addition, Teddy could be unpleasant.
It got to the point where Mrs. Thompson would actually take delight in marking his papers with a broad red pen, making bold X's and then putting a big "F" at the top of his writings.
At the school where Mrs. Thompson taught, she was required to review each child's past records, and she put Teddy's off until last. However, when she reviewed his file, she was in for a surprise.
Teddy's first-grade teacher wrote, "Teddy is a bright child with a ready laugh. He does his work neatly and has good manners... he is a joy to be around.."
His second-grade teacher wrote, "Teddy is an excellent student, well-liked by his classmates, but he is troubled because his mother has a terminal illness and life at home must be a struggle."
His third-grade teacher wrote, "His mother's death has been hard on him. He tries to do his best, but his father doesn't show much interest, and his home life will soon affect him if some steps aren't taken."
Teddy's fourth-grade teacher wrote, "Teddy is withdrawn and doesn't show much interest in school. He doesn't have many friends, and he sometimes sleeps in class."
By now, Mrs. Thompson realized the problem, and she was ashamed of herself. She felt even worse when her students brought her Christmas presents, wrapped in beautiful ribbons and bright paper, except for Teddy's. His gift was clumsily wrapped in the heavy, brown paper That he got from a grocery bag. Mrs. Thompson took pains to open it in the middle of the other presents. Some of the children started to laugh when she found a rhinestone bracelet with some of the stones missing and a bottle that was one-quarter full of perfume. But she stifled the children's laughter when she exclaimed how pretty the bracelet was, putting it on, and dabbing some of the scents on her wrist. Teddy Stoddard stayed after school that day just long enough to say, "Mrs. Thompson, today you smelled just like my Mom used to." After the children left, she cried for at least an hour.
On that very day, she quit teaching reading, writing and arithmetic. Instead, she began to teach children. Mrs. Thompson paid particular attention to Teddy. As she worked with him, his mind seemed to come alive. The more she encouraged him, the faster he responded. By the end of the year, Teddy had become one of the smartest children in the class and, despite her lie that she would love all the children the same, Teddy became one of her "teacher's pets.."
A year later, she found a note under her door, from Teddy, telling* her that she was still the best teacher he ever had in his whole life.
Six years went by before she got another note from Teddy. He then wrote that he had finished high school, third in his class, and she was still the best teacher he ever had in life.
Four years after that, she got another letter, saying that while things had been tough at times, he'd stayed in school, had stuck with it, and would soon graduate from college with the highest of honours. He assured Mrs. Thompson that she was still the best and favourite teacher he had ever had in his whole life.
Then four more years passed and yet another letter came. This time he explained that after he got his bachelor's degree, he decided to go a little further. The message told me that she was still the best and favourite teacher he ever had. But now his name was a little longer... The letter was signed, Theodore F. Stoddard, MD.
The story does not end there. You see, there was yet another letter that spring. Teddy said he had met this girl and was going to be married. He explained that his father had died a couple of years ago, and he was wondering if Mrs. Thompson might agree to sit at the wedding in the place that was usually reserved for the mother of the groom.
Of course, Mrs. Thompson did. And guess what? She wore that bracelet, the one with several rhinestones missing. Moreover, she made sure she was wearing the perfume that Teddy remembered his mother wearing on their last Christmas together.
They hugged each other, and Dr. Stoddard whispered in Mrs. Thompson's ear, "Thank you, Mrs. Thompson, for* believing in me. Thank you so much for making me feel important and showing me that I could make a difference."
Mrs. Thompson, with tears in her eyes, whispered back. She said, "Teddy, you have it all wrong. You were the one who taught me that I could make a difference. I didn't know how to teach until I met you."
Warm someone's heart today. . . pass this along.
Just try to make a difference in someone's life today? tomorrow? "do it."
It can get read backwards
/events/international-womens-day-2020/
I never know if you get my WhatsApp messages, but I know you get Facebook messages.🎂I'm the first one to post on your wall🥰
I sure have lots of memories coming into February on Facebook over the years. It seems the say I post a million gazillion thinks.🤔 This post is from ten years ago.
The result of a nuclear bomb fusing Goku from Dragon Ball Z, Method Man, Bruce Lee, Slayer'S_Boxer, Chuck Norris, Godzilla, Robby Templeton, Dennis Rodman, Michael Jackson, Optimus Prime, Jeff Staple, Barack Obama, Chris Rock, Megatron, Gandalf, Sauron, Vernon Davis, Frieza, Batman, Indiana Jones, Don Juan, Godzilla 2000, the Terminator, all the Power Rangers Wolverine, and the Beast. And then there was Nigel!
What’s a simple activity or habit that consistently makes you happier, healthier, more productive, or more creative?
The answer I thought I'd share with you from a copy and pasted blog survey with edition. It may have an over-inclusiveness thought disorder in-part since a women author wrote it, and I edited to include m'io ètre order: The simple activity or habit of mine that consistently makes me happier, healthier, more productive and more creative is reading. I had, for the partial better part of my adult life, carved out the peaceful dawn hour of 5 am to read a book. I chose this time because it is before my children, dog, and or husband/wife is awake, and the busy business of getting everyone breakfast and ready for their day begins. This ritual starts my day immersed in words, creativity and imagination. It’s the most gentle and artful way to ease into my day, and by 6:30 am, I have already accomplished something. I have already taken the time to do something for myself. I prioritized an activity that isn’t about buying or selling, not about winning. It is purely for my happiness and personal enrichment.
I'd let you know that the front page of the newspaper 📰 has more words than the entire news tv broadcast hour.
I hope you're enjoying the paper😉 I'm still doing the super large crossword from Saturday.
Happy Groundhog Day😁
The church at 11, so I'm listening to this skipping music for online service then getting the local sermon worked
Worked on this for two days. Saturday and Sunday are a big deal for the large crossword.
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