The article begins: “Mohammed Abu Al-Qumsan had just picked up birth certificates for his newly-born twins when he found out they had been killed, along with his wife and her mother, by an Israeli strike on the Gaza apartment where they were sheltering.”
There’s more detail about the attack (tank shell) and a photo of the grieving man.
Scotland, hands down. I feel so lucky to be living here. I was only going to stay three years & then go back to New Zealand and settle down. Thirty-five years later I’m still here. I fell in love with the hills - and the freedom to walk on them - the lochs, the ancient ruins. But most of all I fell in love with the people. Their craic, their warmth and craziness, their generosity, their music. I love that you can talk to anyone and you’ll often hear an amazing life story.
I love things like this: https://www.dailyrecord.co.uk/news/scottish-news/anti-deportations-group-issues-guide-24107754
I love the cultural richness that’s come from successive waves of immigration, from Italy, India & Pakistan, China, Poland and more.
I love the food. I love haggis and Arbroath smokies and Aberdeen butteries and shortbread and oatcakes and Tunnocks caramel wafers.
And least I forget, yes, I love the weather.
Vanuatu is one of the best places I’ve ever been. Really interesting people.
I was on a work trip back in the 80s that took me to one of the northern islands of Vanuatu. Our plane landed on a football field, that’s how remote our destination was. After we set up camp, someone said they’d heard there was a teacher from New Zealand in the nearby village. Well I’m a New Zealander too, so off I went to meet her. Within the first few minutes we had worked out that not only were we originally from the same small town… she was my older brother’s first girlfriend.
But actually because NZ has a small population and we all travel a lot, it’s not as mad a coincidence as all that. It sometimes feels like we are all just a couple of degrees of separation from each other. “Oh you’re from Oamaru? Do you know XY?” “Not really, but one of my cousins works for his sister, ZY.”
I had this issue with an Android recently - but it was my own phone, an old one I wanted to test a SIM on. I couldn’t remember the PIN, couldn’t even recall having a PIN for this phone. I had to dig deep through the tech forums to find a solution, but got there eventually. And yes, I read that over and over during my search, “it’s for your security”. Argh!
That’s an excellent idea! I’ll mention it to her.
A friend has a notebook next to her computer with all her passwords in it. Initially I was horrified - what if you’re burgled? - but actually it’s genius. Much more secure than letting a browser remember them, and she doesn’t even need to memorise a Bitwarden password.
I still use my iPod Classic. I can plug it into my car for when I’m out of FM range, and I have a Bluetooth adapter for it that plugs into the headphone socket & lets me listen via my hearing aids. It’s better than a phone for me, because the mobile signal is weak where I live, and most of my garden is out of WiFi range. It fits all my music and still has room for podcasts.
iTunes sucks though, ugh.
Almost all the ads I’ve seen on Prime video are for other Prime movies. They never appear during a natural break in whatever I’m watching, just burst right in in the middle of a scene. They elicit zero positive emotions, and I am about to cancel my subscription.
“And when you pray, do not be like the hypocrites, for they love to pray standing in the synagogues and on the street corners to be seen by men. … But when you pray, go into your room, close the door and pray to your Father, who is unseen. Then your Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you.” Matthew 6:5-6
He’s not the Messiah, he’s a very naughty boy!
This feels like an episode of The Apprentice. Lord Sugar (appropriate!): “Willy Wonka? More like Willy Wanker.” Cut to sweaty Project Manager about to be fired.
I love the look on that poor dog’s face - “Such a big bed, and I’m only allowed this little corner? Do something!”
A long-dead cat for your pleasure. She arrived on my doorstep a starving kitten; after extensive travel in New Zealand she went to live in Canada, where she apparently lived to a ripe old age.
The thing is though, I might want to sell before I die. I’ve got a good 20 years in me!
I kind of like it too. When I was 12 my parents asked what colour I wanted my bedroom painted. “Purple.” They painted it off-white. I’m over 70 now and still have never had a purple room. My kitchen is pale grey ffs.
Off to look at paint charts …
A funeral I attended recently had a plywood coffin and a bunch of felt-tip pens for people to write messages with. At another one a while back, the coffin was wickerwork.
I want this too. I saw a documentary about a dying man who took this option. They interviewed him about the decision, then after his death filmed medical students dissecting him (from a distance, it was discreet) and interviewed them about the experience. They were grateful for his gift, and incredibly respectful when speaking about him.
The thing is, the inside of a body looks nothing like the nice tidy diagrams. It’s a mess in there! I’d like these kids to practise on dead me before they start cutting into live people.
I just watched that BBC doco about the guy, blood-freezing stuff. The way he worked his way up from being a minor prince to de facto king… yikes.