When I met my second wife near the end of the 1990s and moved to her at the PMJ, I quickly discovered that the homework for the winter is not her. No, you could put on the table at the holiday without shame and guests picked up everything, especially under the water. But this is so that every time the refrigerator is opened, it is necessary to pull the cucumbers out of the bowl and eat them - there was no such thing. And with other preparations the same.
I had to take the matter into my own hands. Well, I’ve been doing cooking before, there was no problem here. The rest had to be taught. I went on a tribute to my aunt, the main specialist at the time in the family of crafts. While just in the garden the cucumbers started singing, well, I re-written her a recipe from a precious green notebook.
I came home, started this new business for me, constantly checking with the recipe. And the recipe was written - three tablespoons of salt on a three-litre bowl, then all kinds of herbs and leaves and at the end of 1 st. The Sugar. I wondered why this 1st. I have a glass, I don’t understand. Thinking decided that the aunt was more visible, but the full glass decided not to put, cost two-thirds. I twisted these two or three liters, when they were cooled, I put them in the warehouse.
In his next visit to his beloved aunt remembered and asked - and not a lot of it - a glass of sugar for a three-liter cup of cucumbers? You ask me, did you cook the strawberries? - and a green notebook is given, and there black on white is written - 1 tablespoon of sugar. It was I myself, coming out, lohanulся - lazy to rewrite word in word. Well, I marked these banks with a black label, so as not to be confused with others, and then began to act on the correct recipe.
In the winter, my cucumbers only went on the way! The open three-liter in the refrigerator stood constantly and was enough for a week - one and a half. And here somehow I come from work, and my wife begins to torture me - and what are you about the cucumbers in the corner? I opened them today.
I hung my head, I answered - this is the first shit, which is called the commo - cucumbers compot. I was forbidden to throw out the frog in the summer. You - I ask - have already eliminated them, or have you decided to let me try, so that I don't care? You say, the delicious cupcakes! The rest of you are great, too, but these are all out of mind!
I tried carefully - well compot compot. Of garlic, garlic and straw. A sharp such. Because with oxygen. As they say, for taste and color.
And since then I have had to every year in addition to normal cucumbers to make special, compot, for my wife.
The wife of your sister's husband
There is a designer working on ordering. And his face is strange – like the stewardess who goes into the cockpit to report that there is a terrorist in the cockpit.
“Sally, can you come to my office?
And what happened?
Better to see yourself...
- Just don't tell me that the book in the printing was damn printed, I just won't experience it!
No, the book hasn’t been brought yet, but you come.
Interested, I go to the designers. In the middle of the office is a middle-aged woman holding a pile of A4 paper in her hands. He reacted to me with some suspicious joy.
Explain why they don’t want to help me here.
What happened to you?
I want to print a portrait of a loved one on the canvas. He has birthday soon! My husband has birthday!
You are a private person?
I want to print a portrait of my husband. Your husband, you know?
Unfortunately, we do not work with individuals on these issues. And the canvas is not textile, but special paper. You should go to a small private advertising firm.
But I want you! - she insists, and her eyes somehow suspiciously glow. And then she shows what she has on the papers she shakes heavily: pictures printed on a poor black and white printer.
I take all the photos from her hands, look carefully and return with a breath:
“You see, even if we agreed to print one portrait on behalf of a private person, you have all the photos of very poor quality. Let the husband be photographed in the salon.
“But understand, girl, I want to make a surprise for the anniversary of our relationship!
Do it, I shake my shoulders. And we cannot help anything.
I’m going to complain to your boss that you’re rejecting me. She says evil.
Go on, I agree. Do not distract us from work.
The woman still stands in the middle of the office for some time, as if looking for the strongest arguments, but nothing, apparently, hasn’t come up with it, cleansing itself.
How to understand it? - Nearly a choir asks designers who have watched our dialogue very closely. Why did this strange grandmother bring a picture of your husband?! to
Why, why, because there are people of goats. Back in March, one such acquaintance asked his husband to give a small legal advice to his sister, very asked. The case was quite simple – consumer rights – and the husband agreed. He has a pitiful character in general, he cannot refuse simple requests to strangers, for which he was repeatedly grieved by me. As a result, the woman came, seemed polite and asked questions about the case, but the husband remained convinced that something was wrong with her. She looked strangely, stressfully, as if one of her visible secret signs had been written on his face, and did not express a special interest in the matter in which she came, although, according to her, it was very important for her. The consultation was short, the husband refused the money, and it would end, but this was only the beginning. I would say a prelude.
The next day began the bouquet season. The woman called my husband and asked to meet her at the cafe. He refused, citing the fact that he gave her enough information on her case, and if she has little, then it is better to hire a lawyer or contact a consumer protection society. She apologized and said goodbye. In the evening, I found him on social networks and started writing something like “how is it?”, “what are you doing?”, “I think of you.”
The husband cautiously asked his acquaintance why his sister behaved so. He refused: said, I have no idea, maybe you liked her, don't take it into your head. And then more. My husband received messages from the series "my love will overcome everything, and we will always be together", "I think of you - and therefore, you think of me", "I dreamed of our future, we will be happy." Darkness in general. My faithful, understandable case, put a fan on a black list. And she stopped guarding him at work. Sometimes I approached with a joyful look and cries that they agreed to meet in a cafe today, and it was very difficult to get rid of her. Sometimes I just stared in silence from afar. She left him small gifts at work - a diary, candy, cognac with cards in the form of a heart. It is good that in the work of my husband's colleagues people are serious, they don't know how to joke (every appearance there is a moral trauma), or they would raise the "object of passion" to laugh.
After some time, through acquaintances, I found out that this lady is mentally ill (as if nothing new, but she, as it turned out, has both a certificate and disability pension). She pursues all the men she deals with. For example, causing a sanitary for some small trouble. He pays, takes the money, goes away. After a day or two, she calls again, calls for another mess, the one comes — like everything in order, and she meets him at a full parade, with wine and catering. and so on. She lives with her parents who are already very old. She tells relatives and acquaintances that she has a fan who gives her flowers and invites her to date. Then she literally begins to cry and hysterize, supposedly he dropped her. And the family instead of somehow trying to arrange her treatment, is just looking for her "victim". And once she bought something with marriage (whether a fan, or something like that), her brother bothered her to go to a lawyer for advice — and advised my husband. Agreed on reception - and voila, the sister is absorbed by "new love", the relatives do not understand. The candidacy of my husband, which is typical, this family is fully satisfied, since he is a gentle person by nature, will not roughly send and will not harm (or she tried to chase one taxi driver, so he almost beat her, took her to the industrial zone and threw her out of the car, then with the police were looking). Fantastic dogs, right?
What to do in such a situation, the husband as a lawyer did not quite imagine. Such persecution does not fall under any sanctions, in addition, a woman with a certificate, even if she begins to rush on it - what to take from her? We do not hospitalize the heavily bullied until someone is thoroughly murdered. The husband called this dog-familiar, asked to persuade his sister to leave the persecution, it was better to look after her, to show the doctor. The acquaintance just shrugged his shoulders: “I can’t do anything.
And in the end, she came to me in the office, knowing exactly that there is a “separator” here. After explaining to colleagues that my husband is being persecuted by a mentally ill woman, I decided to act on my own. I had the phone of my rival brother. And I called.
Hi my dear!
Where are you calling? He was amazed.
“To you, little girl,” I answered gently. Let’s meet at the cafe.
Have you confused me with someone?
“I’m Sally, the wife of your sister’s husband,” I explained. Did you understand now?
And he understood. He, the shit, quickly understood what I was going to do. For example, to the fact that his wife will not believe for anything, that he did not go aside or at least did not try if I started writing him gentle text messages and so on. Without a certificate. If you don’t believe me, I’ll come up with something else. The main thing is to start and deepen. What is far to go for examples - here, at Picaba, there were thematic stories. And Kolenka, the creature, cried out that I was very, very angry, and now there will be a response with the involvement of all my resources, because I have such a job - to accumulate useful acquaintances.
Except for the May holidays (which were not holidays at all, but this is a different story), for more than two weeks no one pursues us and our husband. Hi you, Colin, if you are reading Picaba.