I once went to McDonalds, waaay back when $5 was expensive, and bought food that totaled something like $6.85.

I gave the cashier a five, two ones, and a dime.

She looked at me funny, then went to the register and I assume punched the usual register buttons, then gave me back my dime and another dime and a nickel.

I had to ask if I could get that changed for a quarter.

Poor girl looked like she was questioning reality at that moment.

_{But I did get the quarter! Yay!}

Mental arithmetic is now sadly seems to be a much neglected topic. Way, way, way back when at junior school we used to have daily mental arithmetic. At secondary the maths lessons all started with some mental arithmetic.

It seemed like she didn't know that some change is more preferable than others

It is a skill that must be taught, just like any other.


STORY 2 • Moo Cows Are Not What You Think

When I was young my mother and three sisters and I took a trip to visit my aunt and cousins in Lethbridge, AB, on their farm.

Besides growing crops of food, they also had quite a few dairy cattle, and even the ability to process (pasturize + homogenize) some milk for their own use.

My sisters had a lot of fun feeding the calves through the fence. I preferred to explore the barn. Got to help hook up a few cows to the milk machines, even. Aaannnd I got to see a cow get artificially inseminated. There’s an interesting job for you.

At one point something happened (I don’t even remember what) so that all the cows headed off somewhere they shouldn’t have gotten to and everyone went running off after them: My aunt and cousins because they knew what they were doing and my mom and sisters because we were tourists. (Well, my mother because my aunt asked her to help.)

I had no desire to chase after a bunch of cows. But after a few minutes of being left alone and supposedly missing actual adventure, I went to follow after.

Wandering out over the mud in my brand-spanking-new sneakers, which my mother had just bought for me the week prior in preparation for this very trip — I got the idea that perhaps I shouldn’t be out in the mud in my brand new sneakers when, just like in a cartoon, my feet went plop!, plop! down into the mud, about four inches deep.

It was also at that very moment that it occurred to me that I wasn’t standing on mud.

O_o

Quicksand-like, poo is. Never could get it all off.

Mom wasn’t too pleased at that. My mother is awesome, though, and understood that things happen, and didn’t give me any real grief about it. For the rest of the trip I wore an old pair of work/cowboy boots belonging to I think one of my cousins.

Lesson: Don’t wear nice shoes into a cow paddy.


Now, cows can be friendly, and while technically domesticated, they really are wild animals. Unless you spend a whole lot of time with individual cows they don’t really see humans as much more than obnoxious jerks with food.

While there a neighbor and her teenage daughter came by with a couple of her horses so that we could ride. Which was pretty cool!

So imagine eleven-year-old me trotting along next to her, enjoying my first time on a horse and talking to a pretty girl also on a horse (very extra cool!), when our horses both come to a sudden stop.

We look up and see that some fifty to a hundred cows are staring back at us, in a near half-circle around us. It felt like I had just stepped into the O.K. Corral, and I was not one of the gunfighters. One of the cows in front, looking especially ornery, huffed out her nose.

And then we were just hanging on for dear life as those cows chased those two horses into the very large front yard and down the very long driveway toward the fence at the road. I didn’t know what would happen when we reached the fence, and I could see the girl I was with wide-eyed and probably wondering the same thing. I knew I wouldn’t be able to hang on if that horse tried to jump that fence. I honestly don’t think the horse thought it could jump the fence.

Fortunately everything stopped about ten feet before the fence. I guess the cows made their point, because they blinked and turned and calmly walked back to their domain.

Lesson: Don’t mess with cows.

My father flew out to drive home with us. On the way back we stopped to get some whole milk and cereal for breakfast.

Blegh.

We ate sandwiches instead.

Lesson: After sampling ambrosia you must wait a while before eating normal gruel again. (What we call “whole milk” is only about 3.5 percent milk fat, which simply does not compare to milk straight from the cow.)

That is the way.

Yes. This is the way.

Should've gotten a cheeseburger instead and gotten some revenge by proxy on those jerks.

I always optimize so that the cashier and I trade about the same number of bills/coins. Speaking of which, the one good thing I have to say about living with ~100% annual inflation for so many years is that coins are essentially phased out. All cash is notes now.

On a flight recently, the stewardess asked: "Did I wanted tea or coffee? "
I replied: "Yes please, white coffee no sugar."
She said: "Do you want milk and sugar with that?"
I said: "Just the milk, thanks."
She gave me 2 milks, and 2 sugars.

I guess it's so boring, they need it to be real simple.

TheIdeasMan wrote:
I guess it's so boring, they need it to be real simple.

Maybe. I’ve learned that flight attendants, whenever they seem distracted, are probably dealing with something on the flight that you don’t want to know about.

I grew up around cows -- our 'neighbor' (his actual home was about 2 miles away) owned a LOT of the land around us and put a minimal number of cows on about 3/4 of it to make it qualify as 'farmland' which has a much, much lighter tax per acre. So imagine having woods on one side and 20ish cows on the other 3, kind of like that; our family lot was 4 acres.

They can be sweet, or stubborn, and when frightened or aggravated, dangerous. After my childhood curiosity wore off, I largely avoided them unless compelled to interact. The fences were ... cheap and old, so a few would get out every year and someone always had to get it to stop wrecking the yard (simply walking across the yard can do significant damage with that much weight, and if it runs, its like a post hole digger gone mad). Getting one to go back where it belongs is an art form; they want to explore. They are not adverse to going back, but every 10 feet there is a distraction and something exciting to look at, kinda like a toddler. I rescued countless of the younglings who had just grown stubby little horns and fishhooked their heads on the wire fence trying to find better tasting grass on the other side. Mostly, you just need to approach them such that they can see you clearly and that you are not attacking or acting weird. Then you can touch them if needed. But you don't need to get that close usually, they are quite happy to respond to gestures and verbal commands that eventually get the message across to 'come here' or 'go in there'.

Did I mention they can be dangerous? The things weigh some 800-1000 pounds and do not understand that stepping on you, bumping into you etc is a lot of force. They do understand that when they want to hurt you, instinct and being wired to trample you are all part of their defenses (and in some cases, esp bulls, offenses) but they don't realize the damage they can do by accident. One of them was involved in my father in law's death a few years back.. picture old mcdonald at 90+, the man did the 1920s lifestyle growing his own food etc (he just loved this lifestyle that reminded him of his own childhood) and either he messed up and the cow panicked/attacked/something and hit him causing a heart attack or he had a heart attack first and then the cow panicked, its not clear what happened first. Between being stepped on and heart attacked and rather old, he didn't make it :(

When using Wifi, I sometimes see Networks such as: "Your Cat Shits In Our Yard" ; "Don't Click it" ; and "Really Don't Click It". :+D