Very good logic.

In order to increase the well-being of a pensioner, it is necessary to force him to work.

I was a translator, but for many years, before life turned completely differently, I was also a teacher. Well, if not so seriously, just an English teacher. Over the years I have accumulated a lot of teaching stories. Especially because I started teaching someone something very early. At the age of 17, she graduated from school and became a student.

My mother and I lived very poorly. My mom taught private English lessons as long as I can remember. She came home from school and started her second (and even third) shift. And then I grew up - still an English special school behind my shoulders, a student, why not try it? And my mother helps, and I earn money, and practice - with this specialty, I will ever have to teach.

To my surprise, the students arrived quite quickly. Almost all of them were third-class students. After understanding the situation, I realized that they were, as a rule, the children of officers who were recently transferred to serve in our city. The parents wanted to give them to an English special school, and English had to be taught. After the fourth-fifth grade, this was usually not decided (there would be too much to catch up), and third-class students - right.
All my third-class students were very cute people, I taught them with pleasure and remember with a smile.

I remembered this boy especially.

The new student. A lovely intelligent mother. The son is a wheat blonde with not quite the usual name Miroslav. My name is Mirek. The Polish roots? A Russian boy with a very Russian surname.
“Well, Mirak, we’ll get to know you. What are you fascinated? What do you like to do? to read? What are you reading?
“I like books on military history,” Mirek replies to me, “I am now, for example, reading the history of the Napoleonic Wars of Tarle.

History of the Napoleonic Wars. by Tarle. The third class. Not even a third class. It’s summer, and he’s just moved to the third class.

And you know, I paid attention to one interesting moment. Other authors...

So, Mirek obviously intended to read me a lecture. A good lecture, by the way, with knowledge of the matter, with an understanding of the subject, with a comparative analysis... His language is like a professor. Solidity and prudence are far from childish. The overall development is surprising. Readiness is shrinking. Oh my God, what should I do with this wanderkinde?! to

What to do, what to do, and what to do! Why was he brought to me? Working in English? Here we will practice. You just need to realize that this is not a child. He may look like a child, and his height is small, and his voice is childish, but this boy will probably be older than me. Everything is done, as with an adult.

Our classes are strange. My new student has some totally bottomless memory and incredible learning. Mirek moves forward, swallowing the material into huge pieces, and all my attempts to “repeat” and “fix” are cut to the root.
Why waste time? I already know.
– Mirek, – I try to hold him, – in the language it cannot be so. It’s not mathematics where “I’ve already understood, you can go further.” It’s like music, like dance – exercises are needed, skills need to be fixed, worked out, brought to automation. Do you understand?
“Yes,” Mirek replied, “but I already know it. Check it.

A couple of times I really check, then, shaking my hand, I give up. He knows. He really knows. If Mirek says he knows...

The first class program will be completed in a week. In another two or three weeks (with all my desperate attempts to slow down the process, give extra material, etc.) Finished second class. After that, I call his mother and say that as I regret losing such a student, he no longer needs my lessons. Miriam can go to the third class. (Oh, I am afraid that he can go in the tenth, but it is unknown what he has there with the exact sciences...) Mama Mireka doesn’t believe me. We do a few more weeks, we run quite far (whether in the fourth or fifth class) and we break up, quite satisfied with each other.

For a while I still hear something about Mireka from my former teachers: “... he makes such reports on history! What a speech! What an erudition!” And then – study, work, new students, new events, and I finally lose sight of it.

Then passes the whole life. The world is changing unrecognizably, and there is such a miracle as the Internet. And at some point, looking for long lost acquaintances, friends, classmates, neighbors, I decide to try to find out - and what about Mirek? I find it easy - so, a Russian military historian and writer, a candidate of historical sciences, UGU, colonel, author of many books on military-historical topics. He chose his profession early. A happy man! Well, in the "thematics" of him, of course, I do not understand anything, but on one of the forums I find the argument of the participant: "... this is stated by Miroslav Eduardovich himself, and he, without a doubt, knows." “Sam Miroslav Eduardovich.”

And I have that little professor in front of me: "I already know this!"
It’s just scary to imagine how much Mirek knows now!

Once Dmitry Medvedev decided to be closer to the people and live on 15 thousand rubles.
But he didn’t like that breakfast.

My friend told me a long time ago.

"I killed the secretary here: I have a new aska stand, which shows when someone is picking up messages for me. I began to pick me up. I think she can ask the secretary at 5 p.m., only to leave earlier (and she is studying law), and I call her "OK, go." Sending faster

of her. From her comes the first question, and then these eyes "how do you know? ? to ? to ? to ? “ He said the director should know everything.

of staff.”

The wife read out some strange recipe for pearls, spelled over it for half a day, gathered the whole family at the table, looking forward to the evaluation... And then the younger handed out: “Mom, you are so good at cooking...” The woman then blossomed all, and he continued: “Pizza, pizzas, cheeses, cheeseburger you have delicious, pizzas... Mom, please, prepare them, don’t prepare the pearls!”

We had a very clever lead in the stream. He told the story before the exam how he himself handed down a difficult subject and his teacher gave a chance to hand over to those who knew nothing - added an empty ticket. Whoever pulls out, immediately assesses “good.”

After these words, he showed everyone an empty A4 sheet, then with the help of a line cut off a strip equal to the width of the tickets and mixed it in a common pile. Many stressed - a strip of paper cut off by a line is easy to distinguish from those cut by scissors.

The most impatient student ran first and picked out the one with an unequal side among the tickets. There was a ticket with the most difficult questions. The teacher smiled cleverly, and the stripped strip rolled in the garbage.

It is a handshake)))

- What are the mothers, got maternity capital for the second child, land for the third? I need to work...
The pension fund.

of the destruction of being.
I was very small. Probably two years. My mom and dad often took me to work.
And here Dad looks at the soldiers, and I somehow roll under my feet. He went somewhere in the courtyard. As my parents later told me, my father found me near the dog farm at the moment when the unclosed Caucasian Negus was accidentally brought to me. It is unknown how this story would end, but it was as if a Baska cat had grown out of the ground between us. Strangely enough, it made Negus slow down and approach me humbly. Such a living toy "Shabaka" was a joyful prey. The wooled hair! The short ears. An outstretched tongue! Oh, how pleasant it was to wrap it all with your hands and pull it in different directions! He died afraid of provoking the beast. Children don’t always understand the danger. But here are all the others... My father almost died of fear. I was almost exhausted from joy. The dog barely got from the cinematologist. The movie barely got from the start. And the cat almost didn’t... And the cat just sat next to us and went on.
She lives with the puppies. And all these Irbis, Baikal, Negus, Mukhtar regularly received from her as a child. If she is not a mother, then she is a teacher. And this is done so that the dogs in service are not distracted by cats, well, by another animal.
In the next arrivals we must also visit Baska and Negusa. Feeding all kinds of weeds. He, as the military believes, did not show much joy. I took it as a tribute. She liked to eat something delicious and play with me. Even sitting on your hands. The father asked the major to give it to us, but he did not agree, motivating the difficulty of raising such military possessions. One day I called again. Part of it has been dismantled and we can take Baska. The times were difficult for the military and our Baska settled with my grandfather in Moscow. Apartment, canine, not borderless, but it was independent. I went out to walk on the street myself. She went home, patiently waiting for someone to open the door. She also had dogs. When I walked in the yard, she walked next to me. Running to the left, but next door. Grandfather Collie was not considered a dog. I could walk it by myself if people didn’t bother me. With my advice. His authority among the dogs of the court grew immeasurably. A couple of scratched mords of room "volkodaves" quickly set up points over the e. I think that she even tried not to scratch them. Because sitting on the cheek is easy to scratch the eyes with the nails, and the blood flew only from the ears and nose. It’s long, but a cat’s life is short. I buried her personally. In the same yard under a large castan. She wasn’t a man, but I was crying. As a friend. I still dream sometimes. This is so.
Do you think this is the end of history? And here is not! Every time I visited my grandfather, I remembered Baska. The road to the rubbish passed by her grave. One day, I was met there. There are no hooligans. I myself was a hooligan. The dogs. Four courtyards quietly shut down my way home. Near the Basque tomb. I still don’t know where they came from and what laws I broke, but I didn’t even have a pack of garbage in my hands. I unwittingly climbed to the tree. The wind sounded in his crown. Some night birds or bushes streaked in the leaves. A couple hundred meters away lived a large city, and here... And here the unexpected happened. For me and for the dogs. A slight blow of wind... again. It was a slight blow of wind that dropped to my feet from the tree a dry branch in the form of a bush. A gift of fate. Which I immediately picked up. No, I didn’t go to dogs. He did not run after them for three quarters until he removed his skins from them. Everything repeated like with Negus. The dog’s aggression disappeared. They lowered their heads and quietly disappeared in the darkness of the summer night. I stood under the tree without moving, and tears rolled over my cheeks again.
You will say coincidence! And I will say that those we loved and who loved us look at us from there and try to help. As much as they want and as much as they allow us.

Putin is no longer president.
How is it?! to
"I watched his 2009 speech, and he said clearly: 'As long as I am president, there will be no increase in the retirement age in Russia!

Yesterday, a neighbor of 80 years came to my future. He says:

I thought, let you write your house over to my grandchildren, and you will move to me to take care of me, and before I die I will give you my house.

Great business plan, I agree.

A generous wolf is not sorry for the grass for the lamb, but a greedy lamb is sorry for the meat for the wolf.

I cannot share. In short, my daughter met a guy on the Internet. A week in mail. Studying in the militia. Two weeks of communication. have never seen. Today my eternally hungry student complained to him that food was just pasta. Half nine in the night. He sits and prepares for exams.

Suddenly this guy calls her (never seen!) and says:
Go out! Pepper brought you.

I ask her, raw or cooked. He says cooked. He said he would not leave until he fed her.

What happened, I don’t know yet, the phone is silent. Now, probably, he sits down and decides what to do: go for pellet or pasta to eat. She said no one had come to her date before. with the pellets.

Trump said Crimea is Russian because everyone speaks Russian. He has never been to Brighton.

In a police state, the best lives are the police and those they protect. They are not people.

The story of yesterday:
https://www.anekdot.ru/id/953610/

Sorry, I am not trained in high standards. I will tell you how I think: the bridegroom there broke his ass to please the bride. She drank him to the last. I divorced him later. But first they both moved to London and now live there singing. and together.
What a romance. And I will say so for myself - a simple tractorist, kept his bride in its entirety until the marriage. Although I wanted. Six months on the gold ring. It’s no worse than London. But there were no surprises. As accumulated - bought, handed over, Since then 43 years already happy in marriage. Seven children were raised. I want to die with her one day. Because I have nothing to do here without her. I believe that when this day comes, we will have time, as always, to light candles and feed the cats of the homeless. Shame on them. Just like all of these London fifts. They sought, smashed, destroyed and forged marriages, arranged surprises, left the Motherland. Why Why? Mishura is all. My life is real. I lived happily with my only wife. Without any surprises.

2016 is the year of falling oil prices. Call of the King of Saudi Arabia to the President of Russia:
“We want Russia to join OPEC’s restrictions on oil production.
We want to win at least one match at the 2018 World Cup.
We have agreed.

I have a friend named Sanya. And how I suggested him to ride in cycling with me, because it is very fun to cut circles around the night of St. Petersburg! Buying a big for 30k to Sane seemed illogical, and he decided that it was better to invest that money in another more useful business! One evening he came to me and that he bought a fitness club subscription for 30k and now he will go there as much as he wants, because the most expensive took, indefinite! Well, I say, it’s a pity that it’s not great, of course! But at the same time, the theme is useful, sport and all that! The next day, Sanya purchased a special T-shirt and shorts specifically for classes in the hall (2000+3000p) and also a special bottle to drink water (700p), because the usual bottle for 13p is not very original! I also bought a small iPod and headphones for the hall too! As a result, in such full equipment, our future cat went to pull the iron. Arriving in the hall and taking a lying position on the bench for the gem laying, Sanya made a selfie in the mirror ceiling of that swing and... never again there appeared!

If you ask when was the last time you went to the hall, you can hear “Oh, no strength, do...”

I continued to ride a bicycle alone.

There is nothing divine in Nirvana, it’s just a way to do it all.

Sodium citrate is a popular drug among anesthesiologists.
We often give it to patients: it is the only of the anti-acid antacids completely liquid, without solid alkaline impurities, acts instantly and reliably, neutralizing stomach acid.
One problem is the taste.
Let’s say for the amateur.
And such lovers are rarely met, I dare to assure you.
Here is history.
Bread by pre-operative, from one of the boxes is:
“I’m not going to drink this, I can’t, I can’t, I can’t and all!
I will not!
Don’t persuade me – NO, you understand, not and all!”
The nurse is calling for help, doctor, talk, maybe you can convince her!
I must try...
I go, an old acquaintance, sodium citrate, a stack of one ounce of this disgusting drink and a patient, heavily pregnant, prepares for a cesarean, bounces and leaves in rejection.
And we must say that it is for such patients that sodium citrate is simply necessary, pregnancy greatly increases acidity, and the stomach is squeezed so that the acid is much easier to go up and pour out the lungs - and this is very dangerous, extremely, you can say, deadly.
And then she arthritis, hysterical: "aaah, ugliness, it's impossible to drink, I tried a little, chew and shit."
Well, of course, you can’t try it, you have to turn it up like a stack.
My young colleague neglected to give clear instructions and explanations of the utmost importance of this medicine.
I was distracted — later I called back the newbie and insisted her that the statutes are written with blood, that it is necessary to conduct instruction and explain the details, rather than the patient will revolt over the nonsense.
So, it is necessary to honestly say about the taste, to tell about the need, and the main thing is to explain the concept of overturning the stool and its rapid emptying, with one large throat.
But all this later. And now you need to the result - the medicine in the stomach of the patient.
It is useless to persuade, let’s try differently.
When you were in college, did you drink tequila?
- Yes, but the tequila tastes better, not to compare with this ugliness!
I don’t argue, it tastes better. How do you drink tequila?
by stakes. Eat salt and green lemon.
Are you familiar with the rapid emptying technique?
- Doctor, I know, but it is simply impossible to drink!
Everything is possible. Let me show you.
Sister, please bring me the same piece.
and silence. My sister is upset at me, not caring.
Sister, did you not understand? Please bring me the same medicine, preferably by the end of this century.
I woke up and brought.
Yes, girl, I’ll drink first, and you’ll follow.
Take your hand and do as I do.
I understood?
Kitty, I understand it.
I breathe, I open my mouth, I exhale and I throw the citrate into my throat, with one large throat — all as the loaders of the Riga-Towardy taught the green student a whole eternity ago.
The ugliness is still, but it is possible to live, my face can play poker, not disturbing - as if I drank a tequila with a high stroke...
The patient, like enchanted, repeats my actions, without saying a word, in some trance swallows the medicine, slightly rattles and smiles...
And really not scary.
I’m talking about you, good guys. And now you went to get the child, do not be afraid, the most difficult thing you have behind you...
Carried to the operational, crumbling cavalry walk, I go after the catallica, all along the way, regularly.
Behind my back I hear the nurses whisper, and something tells me: I will still hear this story, with distortions and exaggerations, as is believed by medical myths and myths.

Amazing Russian language: the expressions "needed" and "needed" mean the same thing!