edit:
At Nana and Gramp's post-WWII house:
well, my friends, i have to admit i am now well fed, often because of generous friends and clients, who open up their homes -- and kitchens!
below is my true reminiscence of being a poor child who really only got filled up at nana's.
grandpa had a good job and food was in ample supply.. .
edit:
At Nana and Gramp's post-WWII house:
well, my friends, i have to admit i am now well fed, often because of generous friends and clients, who open up their homes -- and kitchens!
below is my true reminiscence of being a poor child who really only got filled up at nana's.
grandpa had a good job and food was in ample supply.. .
Well, my friends, I have to admit I am now well fed, often because of generous friends and clients, who open up their homes -- AND KITCHENS! -- to me.
Below is my true reminiscence of being a poor child who really only got filled up at Nana's. Grandpa had a good job and food was in ample supply.
HUNGRY, ALWAYS HUNGRY
How I envied the rich whose homes I helped Mom clean when I was a child.
Certainly, the yellow 1953 Buick Skylark and the slightly newer, silver Cadillac Fleetwood Brougham reposing aristocratically upon the bricked drive garnered admiring glances from a boy still on two wheels. Likewise, the clean lines, impeccable finish and understated elegance of the country estate, what with its luxuriant, manicured grounds, filled my heart with a vicarious sense of belonging unknown to one sparingly nurtured on the other side of the tracks.
However appealing the trappings of the well-to-do, it was not the extraneous luxuries that I longed to possess. It was the cupboards, the walk-in pantries, the refrigerators and freezers filled to an excess that this poor and lean boy wanted to plunge into, not being compelled to exit till his hunger was once and for all sated, his belly truly full. Our household budget allowed a mere ten dollars a week for groceries for a family of five; I was, understandably, always ravenously hungry.
Years later, the larder is modestly filled with sufficient to get me by, yet when I go into the home of a friend with a food budget more ample than my own, my eyes stray to the cupboards, the walk-in pantries, the refrigerators stocked to overflowing.
At Nana and Gramp's post WWII house:
so you’re working about forty six hours a week at bethel.
monday night was the bethel watchtower study, tuesdays and fridays nights were your meeting nights at the kingdom hall.
that was your free time.
Fisherman:
Yes, I wish I had gotten that pill early on because I really did want to stay.
On a different thread, I wrote that Dean Songer, my overseer, told me that Bethel comes first, congregation second. There was no way that was possible since I was in a foreign language congregation. It really was a hopeless situation.
I do believe I am older (of course!) and wiser (debatable) now and would handle my problems differently . . .
Thanks.
so you’re working about forty six hours a week at bethel.
monday night was the bethel watchtower study, tuesdays and fridays nights were your meeting nights at the kingdom hall.
that was your free time.
Hey, Keith:
I was too busy with congregation and work to get a G job, but, like so many other brothers, I was overworked to the max. When I went to see Dr. D, I explained my situation. His response was that the fellow who burns the candle at both ends is not very bright.
A snappy retort, sure, but it didn't resolve my dilemma.
I left Bethel early.
my escape from a home beloved was of sheer and unqualified necessity.
my people and i have been overtaken by a scorpion race of alien malefactors whose intent towards us is not one of beneficent intervention, but that of utter conquest.. if it were only the mere subjugation of a weaker species, we might have acquiesced, although begrudgingly.
however, the terrifying reality enjoined upon us proved to be the conquerors' brusque insistence that their insatiable hungers be satisfied with our quailing flesh.
The older I get the more disturbing it all seems and I have no answers. I thought for a long time there would be some explanation for our existence but nothing seems to make sense. -- Nancy Drew
Good thought re: our retreat into imaginary worlds, Nancy. I appreciate hearing your perspective, especially from one who likes sci-fi!
my escape from a home beloved was of sheer and unqualified necessity.
my people and i have been overtaken by a scorpion race of alien malefactors whose intent towards us is not one of beneficent intervention, but that of utter conquest.. if it were only the mere subjugation of a weaker species, we might have acquiesced, although begrudgingly.
however, the terrifying reality enjoined upon us proved to be the conquerors' brusque insistence that their insatiable hungers be satisfied with our quailing flesh.
Wow! This is incredible!
my escape from a home beloved was of sheer and unqualified necessity.
my people and i have been overtaken by a scorpion race of alien malefactors whose intent towards us is not one of beneficent intervention, but that of utter conquest.. if it were only the mere subjugation of a weaker species, we might have acquiesced, although begrudgingly.
however, the terrifying reality enjoined upon us proved to be the conquerors' brusque insistence that their insatiable hungers be satisfied with our quailing flesh.
If you happen to read this, what is your reaction to the concluding statement of "The Conquered" that the invaders are from Earth?
Humans?
Insects?
Yetis?
I do welcome your thoughts . . .
my escape from a home beloved was of sheer and unqualified necessity.
my people and i have been overtaken by a scorpion race of alien malefactors whose intent towards us is not one of beneficent intervention, but that of utter conquest.. if it were only the mere subjugation of a weaker species, we might have acquiesced, although begrudgingly.
however, the terrifying reality enjoined upon us proved to be the conquerors' brusque insistence that their insatiable hungers be satisfied with our quailing flesh.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/To_Serve_Man_(The_Twilight_Zone)
The story is based on the 1950 short story "To Serve Man", written by Damon Knight.[4] The title is a play on the verb serve, which has a dual meaning of "to assist" and "to provide as a meal". The episode is one of the few instances in the series wherein an actor breaks the fourth wall and addresses the viewing audience at the episode's end. The episode, along with the line "It's a cookbook!" have become elements in pop culture.
my escape from a home beloved was of sheer and unqualified necessity.
my people and i have been overtaken by a scorpion race of alien malefactors whose intent towards us is not one of beneficent intervention, but that of utter conquest.. if it were only the mere subjugation of a weaker species, we might have acquiesced, although begrudgingly.
however, the terrifying reality enjoined upon us proved to be the conquerors' brusque insistence that their insatiable hungers be satisfied with our quailing flesh.
MY ESCAPE FROM A HOME BELOVED was of sheer and unqualified
necessity. My people and I have been overtaken by a scorpion race of alien
malefactors whose intent towards us is not one of beneficent intervention, but
that of utter conquest.
If it were only the mere subjugation of a weaker species, we might have acquiesced, although begrudgingly. However, the terrifying reality enjoined upon us proved to be the conquerors' brusque insistence that their insatiable hungers be satisfied with our quailing flesh. These interlopers, these transgressors of a most cruel and avaricious sort, have invaded my world.
Alas, my escape from this nightmare -- from which there will be no awakening -- has been conjured up in my mind. I grieve that kith and kin do not possess the incipient mental devices of escapism that I have owned since the womb. How and why I differ from them is a story I need to tell you, but time is no more.
We have all been jailed; however, I suffer less than they. These very real horrors are deftly slid into a compartment of my mind, locked away tightly, key jettisoned.
Damn . . . damn these invaders from Earth.
if i'm tierd i fall asleep anywere so the meetings ect were no diffrent my wife would always try to wake me but im a deep sleeper.
karter .
For a time, the reader of the WT didn't sit on the stage but in audience seating with his family. I was assigned to read one Sunday and fell asleep in between paragraphs. Had to be awakened. Well, now I am FULLY AWAKE, thank you very much!
My poor family . . .