Due to the fact that my husband and I have often talked about my and his childhood lately, I asked him about the brightest day he has ever remembered. From the first person.



The brightest memory, unfortunately, is associated with the greatest fear. I came from school, I was 9-10 years old, I go into the yard and see a terrible picture. Probably, the child’s consciousness added a little gesture to the memories, but I remember this: in the courtyard of no one, absolute silence and the whole earth filled with bloody cloths, paper with bloody traces, everywhere red loci – everything was literally poured with blood. Naturally, I was frightened, the imagination began to paint a picture of the terrible massacre of my whole family.



I slipped down the fence and, lowering my head on my knees, grabbed her with my hands. The desire to cry restrained my thoughts of my further unpredictable fate. I don’t know how long I was sitting there, but my grandmother cried out from the house. I, not believing my happiness, ran to her, hugged and shouted something like, "Grandma, Grandma, you are alive, how well, I am so happy! “And I cried.

Further, I do not remember how it was, and what my grandmother replied to me.. she was probably very surprised by my reaction)



The very “moment of truth” I do not remember, well, that is, how I was reassured and explained what happened. But in fact it was so: my father and my baptist worked in the garage, the baptist scattered his leg with something, scattered heavily, after which he ran out into the yard and began to run from side to side.

The father grabbed a bite of newspapers and clothes and tried to stop the blood by attaching them to the foot of a running baptist.

Having seen all this from the window, the mother ran to the neighbor and asked him to take them to the injury, and everyone, except the grandmother, left, and she was just going to clean everything.

Everything went well, the saint is alive and healthy to this day.



For a few days I was afraid to fall asleep, as the fantasy offered me in the dream new and new alternative versions of what happened.



Mother, by the way, insists that there was very little blood, there was no "lush" at all, there were clothes and paper, but not so much)

Nevertheless, I still remember in detail a picture that can compete with many horror films.)

When the world plans to replace humans with robots, we want to make humans become robots until age 65.

People like to confuse themselves with questions. Questions arise differently and begin to torment him from early childhood: Where does Santa live? Where do children come from? What happens if you put a light bulb in your mouth? If a whale fights an elephant, who will win? Where to get money for food and mortgage? What is the meaning of life and is there life on Mars?
Recently, one of the same small and annoying questions came to me: How can the workers of the N-CKoy network of stores so incredibly accurately calculate the number of pieces of cheese, independently packaged by the store into the food film, that with the twelve-hour storage period assigned after the package, there is no shortage of it on the shelves, just as there is no mountains of cheese in garbage containers? A natural, but not a good idea has been stolen – do the shop workers repackage yesterday’s cheese at the beginning of the next day again and do not mark it again? No, it cannot be. Simply, it is somewhat strange to see that a whole shelf of appetizing cheese sectors, still lying in the evening with labels with the expiration date "Today", disappears at night, and in the morning appears on the shelf already "fresh" cheese with the fresh labels "Today". The cheese fairy? most likely.
The day tormented me this question, the second. Of course, as the lawyers say, the proof of guilt lies on the side of the accusation. But how to prove? And I remembered a book from my childhood (there was such a fun before - books to read) about Robert Williams Wood - a talented, bright and humorous physicist-scientist. This is a moment in the life of a scientist.
In the university pension for a long time among student residents there was a terrible suspicion that the morning hot is prepared from the remains of yesterday’s lunch, collected from plates. The suspicion was very natural, as the fried meat for breakfast always followed the steak the day before. But how to prove it? Wood scratched his head and said, “I think I’ll be able to prove this with the help of a Bunzen burner and a spectroscope.” He knew that lithium chloride was a completely safe substance, very similar to ordinary salt in appearance and taste. He also knew that the spectroscope could detect the smallest traces of lithium in any material if it was burned in a colorless flame. Lithium gives a known red spectral line. When the students were served a steak for lunch the next day, Rob left on his plate a few large and seductive slices dried with lithium chloride. The next morning, the breakfast particles were hidden in the pocket, taken to the laboratory and burned in front of the spectroscope. The betrayal red line of lithium appeared - weak, but clearly visible. The deception was uncovered.
But back to our cheese. Wood’s method didn’t suit me. I made it easier. Shortly before the closure of the store, I approached the shelf I was interested in, took one of the pieces in my hands, made sure that the expiration date is tonight and put it in the previous place. And the next morning, entering the store right with its opening, I within a few seconds found my yesterday’s piece and, having been reliably convinced that it was it, bought it. The cheese was “today.” You may ask, how could I be sure? And everything is very simple: on the eve of the evening, with the blade of the office knife, I made a careful undetectable piercing and inserted a small neodymium MAGNIT into a piece of cheese.
The next morning, with the usual old pioneer compass, half hidden in my palm, I had no trouble taking the cheese in my hands, literally from the second attempt to find exactly the piece that I remembered and marked the evening. At home, I was convinced that my suspicions were justified.
The risk that one of the buyers would break a tooth on the magnet was minimal, so the interval between putting and removing the magnet was minimal. The bladder and the magnet are pre-sterilized with alcohol.

A new rabbi in the synagogue. He reads the Shma prayer and half of the synagogue stands up. The other half begins to shout at them and say, “Sit down!The first says to the second, “This is you, get up!“”
Rebecca ends up in trouble and goes to Zadiq in the morning.
Asks: say, I don’t know what the true tradition of reading “Shma” is.
Should Jews Stand Up?
– No, there is no such tradition... – replies the Tsadik.
Is the tradition sitting?
“No, it doesn’t say,” replies the Tsadik, “there is no such tradition.
So why did one half of the synagogue break with the other?! to
We have such a tradition!

In the company, I definitely “overwhelmed”. I go down in the subway, I walk through the turniquet, trying to keep up with all the remaining forces. And I see how a police officer does not miss a drunk in the subway.

Well why? The man is angry.

You don’t look like a sober person.

What does a sober person look like?

“Well, that’s about that,” the policeman replied and pointed to me.