2017 ORS 163.732 Stalking

Probably because of what i wrote about Sunday on 213 in Oregon City a State Police car pulling everybody to the right than possibly going to the shopping center near Molalla Ave (i also wrote it could had been an illusion, could had been another car). Also because what i wrote about the name Washington (和神道), architect Minoru etc. BTW, one more idea from seeing the ubiquitous NW on a sign on the road, Pacific NW could stand for Pacific NOW, another, Cobain for Kobe Japan, still thinking about Boeing which reminds me of the name of Chinese martial artist Bolo Yeung, who after he lost all the muscles now looks like the President of China. AM, for Amaterasu? (Main Japanese Shinto Goddess).

Japanese language or Google Translate in relationship with it are realy weird. When i typed the word bo with latin characters it came with a kanji for the word grave. But when i pasted that kanji it came with a transliteration like haka which again means grave (remembering Elvis singing in a karate inspired suit, "hunk a hunk a burning love", Both Elvis and his daughter Priscilla had black belts).

Before i learned more English i always thought he was singing haka haka. Now that i look at the video i see his face looking serious but his body language is almost obscene.


Syllables bo 薄 in Chinese means flimsy and yong 用 use, together meaning 薄用 surge. Nothing obvious further here (but i don't speak Chinese).

I'm going to change the order of what happened because i need to say something first (something that came to mind on trails when i'm finally alone and noise free). I knew a couple of engineers who worked at Boeing one through Mart family. Dragoș Mărgineanțu and his wife Daciana who now to me look like the Romanian blogger Simona Tache (i could be wrong though, i never met Simona Tache and even if i did last time i saw Daciana was i think Christmas 1999 when i also met (by chance, in the same Pacific resort next to Depoe Bay, with Mary, the wife or Ron Bogger, who looked like Priscilla ...Presley), and the other one is Cristi Aniței, who now to me look like Romanian actor Tudor Aaron Istodor, son of Maya Morgenstern, with his wife Cecilia who looked like Iulia... Vântur (she used to work for the City of Seattle), Vânt means wind in Romanian.

Last night around 10 i went to McDonalds after i ate and had a beer. On the upper alley (go there because of inclination that possibly pushes oil on the PCV at the Hiunday on the other alley) two Tualatin Police SUVs. A guy on a bicycle from from the same direction passing me on the right in the same time with last SUV passed me on left. That because i was going really really slow listening to the tick. The guy on the bicycle looked very intrigued at the officer in the last SUV. His face was showing like "now what"? Cop was blond, in his late thirties, blue eyes, looking mean. Bicycle guy in his twenties, brunete, thin.

Today i left for a walk. Just from the start here in the parking lot a Hyundai Elantra four door, about the same age as ours, possibly bigger engine, like 2 liter. Passed me and i could hear no tick.

An old man with a crooked stick like of the counter revolutionary miners in the last picture i posted last night was next to a car right behind my truck smoking acting like ignoring everything. I waited a while and he wouldn't move. He looked very frail so i chose not to tell him to move aside so i backed in the spot next to that car but then had to accelerate. My after market cat especially when cold doesn't work very well so they made their first point of the day on me.

Bad luck in the park. Was raining and got all wet so i went at Tryon through Lake Oswego. Right at the beginning in the parking lot maybe up to 10 small children, a girl dressed with a colored skirt reminding of gypsies, a woman looking like a gypsy, etc.. Did they restart the Waldorf kindergarten in the park again?

While driving there again the parade with weird LPT numbers. About 25% had 2 of the letters from KGB. (They gave us at Mountain Park DMV about one year ago a LPT with JKB which was next in the stack).

While walking at Tryon i was thinking all the time at Angela's surgery ten days from now (suture hernia repair with mesh). Can't get out of my mind how the guy (Physician Assistant Miller, second most common name in the US), who in the third day after open heart surgery came in her room and clipped the 4 temporary pacemaking wires connected to the heart during surgery instead of removing them). He came, he said he was present with the doctor in the operating room. Angela almost pulled those wire while on oxycodone thinking they were remaining suture wires.

And then something weird happened. On a boardwalk that used to be slippery they installed a chicken wire mesh sort of thing.

At Tryon i also met with a woman who looked like Hungarian actress Egri Marta.



... will continue...

The Spider Web

www. Everybody knows what it is. World Wide Web.

I remember in HS i once read a quasi autobiographical book called just like that. The Spider Web (1938). Or maybe, On the Spider Thread of Memory (1977). One of the two. Written by the a Romanian author, Cella Serghi.

One of these days i thought. What if conscience does not reside inside our body but is the Universe itself by which our brain is linked through literal threads. Infinitesimally small but physical whirl like threads of AEther used to entangle particles, making up for our memories. Maybe created by the lightening of engrams. Shooting out of our brain, entangling with many others.

Interestingly, the name of the character of the first book was Diana, reminding of Dianetics.

Scientology also believes brain is not where our soul resides, but just an interface. To the individual Thetans.

The ancient Egyptians were discarding the brain during mumification process. They said it was a useless organ (in the afterlife anyways). A burden to carry all of our? I remember the title of a poem written by Romanian poet Adrian Păunescu. The Unrepeatable Burden. Cause what is brain? Something that takes lots of precious resources of our body, for sure.

My father was born on December 16 1937 in a village called Sasca near Baia, an ancient German colony which was the first capital of Moldova. During that time (he was born), the closest city was Fălticeni. Baia name could come from the silver mines nearby.

I think he was the second of 4 brothers. His father was a carpenter and bees keeper and also had a small subsistence farm and more than 10 acres of land.

I have conflicting memories for the fist name of my paternal grandfather, was either Ion or Costache and my grandmother's name was Ana.

Both parents died in the epidemic of 1944 leaving the four brothers orphaned.

They were moved to an orphanage in Brăila. The youngest, Mircea, who was 2 years old was adopted. My father ended in Mediaș, Sibiu county where he went to a professional school and became a carpenter like his father. After mandatory military stage in Calafat, he moved to Pojorâta, near Câmpulung where he worked in a shop for a guy named...

He was blackmailed into marrying my mother, who was 17. Two weeks before marriage they also forced him to change his name from Diaconescu to Ion (the most common first name in Romania, equivalent to John). One year later or in 1960 i was born.

For this reason they always treated us, mother and children as a temporary major inconvenience and he planned his escape for about 23 years. He divorced my mother around the time i got married and went and married a widow woman from Sasca. I think he was happy for a while but had a health problem.

I was a few years old and he went to play football (soccer) at the local stadium and some guy hit his left calf intentionally and he told him it was for beating my mother, something he was doing. He developed a non healing wound (eschar) that kept growing until it encompassed his whole left leg all the way to hip.

When i went in Romania only and last time in 2004 he was in constant pain but was never willing to amputate his leg. I think he died in 2013, in the same year with my mother who developed a stomach stomach, after being tortured (smoked) in her condo by right extremists from Romania, for years.

My father was a workaholic, like his father. He worked non stop including Sundays and all holidays in the factory and after 2 PM in his shop at home. He had a stash of money and in 73 or 74 he unexpectedly sold his motorcycle and bought a second hand car.

The only time he wasn't working was when he went fly fishing in the rivers around Câmulung, Moldova and Bistrița, durins some of the Sundays. He put a lot of km on that car only by going around fishing.

He sometimes took me with him especially during and after HS when i think he tried to keep me away from friends, bars and disco. He and mother asked me to work during vacations.

Also a perfectionist, he was moved to supervise from one department to another in that factory, because he was always setting things right (organizing, making them work). Though he was toughened by his early life, he had a compassionate though impulsive nature. He was always submissive to others and easy to manipulate. He wasn't drinking smoking or cursing except on rare occasions.

He had this life long friend Constantin Alistar also from Fălticeni also a supervisor at the factory. He influenced him a lot, especially into beating and divorcing my mother. When i was a college student one day i was at his place and they were partying with two women, kinda inviting me. But i didn't like their obscene music.

My mother had a very isolated and neglected childhood and i remember from the first years of my life, to her everything was new. My grand mother hated her cause she came in her life out of marriage and unwanted.

My father was neglecting and ignoring her and us children. Caught between cultures (6 different people historically lived together in Bukovina) there was lots of confusion in her mind and some people took advantage of her. But the vast majority of times my father was beating her for no reason because i knew all the circumstances. She made me some sort of confidant and i knew everything she did as she was dragging me around everywhere.

When i was at the age of 4 or 5 my father went for a trip to Soviet Union. Must have been nearby Moldova. He brought back a photo enlarger  and i think a camera for my grandfather and a tricycle for me (that was later converted to a bicycle). After i got bored of three wheels he one day made it two only (it was designed that way) but it lacked a freewheel mechanism. Which means the pedals were always linked to the rear wheel.

One day maybe at my repeated requests my father took me to ride on the street that was paved with asphalt, he also on a (regular sized) bicycle. They were very few cars (for lack of cars in Romania at that time) maybe just a few a day. We went and climbed a long slope beyond the milk processing factory. Then when we got back, i took my feet off the pedals. The pedals started to turn so fast i could not put my feet back on.

At the base of the slope i think i had maybe 50 kmh (30 mph). A group of gypsies on a side of the road were gesticulating and yelling at me to keep focused and not give up which i think helped me a lot. I continued out of inertia for several hundred yards or until i could control that bike.

Was it in that year when one day he asked for that kerosene cooking lamp, he took it to his shop and made some tea. Then he left the cup in a place where i could reach it. My grandfather asked him what he wanted to do and he said he does not want to go to jail. I drank one sip from that tea, but it smelled like gasoline. Then my mother said i fell asleep for a few hours.

I was 5 or 6 years old. I went with my grandmother, Livia and my grandfather, Valerian Mitre (from Storojineț, today Ukraine) in Suceava, county residence, to visit with his sister, Miți. Tante (aunt) Miți was her name.
 
Believe it or not, this picture was taken by my sister Angela (coincidence of name) who was 3 or 4, during one of those days in Suceava.

Grandfather was not biological, he married my grandmother when my mother was a few years old. He was a many years war veteran, was a driver on a truck carrying other soldiers and a piece of artillery. I remember he also said something about a mare he was ridingat some point. 6 years of war. I once asked him, when i was about 8, why people do go to war. He said what he probably heard; "they were too many people".

Besides Romanian he spoke German (and he always said, Ukrainian and Russian). He spoke German with my grandfather when they wanted us not to understand (witch was drawing me nuts) but never wanted to teach us. He also played violin and was the motor behind me learning how to play the accordion from that blind teacher.

Here in this picture we were all smiling better said laughing because of the way my sister was holding the camera. The reason the picture came out crooked.

One night tante Miți drove me really mad. She said i was fat and my tits were big and kept giving me bras to try. Finally could go to sleep. I heard a very loud noise that briefly awoke me. In the morning i saw a big branch ot the tree (walnut maybe) in the courtyard was down. It was hit by lightening, they said.

I remember here a story my mother told me. When she was a kid they once went with the school to destroy mole mounds on one of the many hills around that part of the town. It started to rain and they came back dragging their hoes on the ground as the teacher taught them. And there came this lightning and hit the hoe of the kid right in front of her.

Was it that evening or the next when we went to visit other relatives or theirs. They were in a front yard some sort of flowers (queen of night they called them) that were making a smell so strong it was choking me.

I remember i was playing in a barrel with collected rain water (they did that a lot back then because the rain water had very few minerals and needed not carrying from a fountain) with a little boat that had an electrical motor in it.

They gave it to me to take home în Câmpulung (Suceava). I played a lot with it but in the end i took it apart (like i always did with almost everything i ever had, maybe it broke) and my father built with that motor a little metal propeller thrower. I remember later i made a drawing with a man with a motor as backpack and a propeller above him.

Because it took piano lessons between 5 and 7 with a teacher named Redlov(e) and had to write (copy) notes for homework, i kinda learned how to read and write before i went to school. (My father did some work for her and she did not have much money and instead of paying him she offered to give me piano lessons).

But i remember the first thing i ever read was the word PHILOSOPHY (FILOZOFIA) on a cover of a HS book of my mother, who abandoned HS after about a year "because of headaches" my grandfather said. She later went to a medical assistant school, but never graduated because of the weird test she had for finals she could not do it out of shame.

They later bought me a small accordion, with 32 bass buttons, but could not play with it mostly because i could only play by notes at that time. So my grandfather brought me an accordion teacher was was literally blind (was brought in by his daughter). In the end he taught me a few songs and after a few years i forgot about notes and was playing only by ear.

At some point i started to hate that accordion because the teacher asked me to bring it at school where i was playing so the others could dance traditional folk dances while rehearsing for the year end celebrations. So i was the only one who didn't get to dance with the girls and that was the reason i could not dance at the end of grade school, like others.

Also that year when we lived downtown at the age of 9 and I went to another school they hired me to play at a kindergarten dance rehearsals and then Christmas celebration and I got paid with enough money to buy a couple of flashlights which I was fascinated with.

Later i had a regular size accordion and while still in grade school i learned lots of stuff from a teacher, also by ear, at the House of Children and got pretty good at it. He was conducting there an ethno band (taraf) with oher children playing violins, bass, trumpet and drums? He was reading notes and thought us old folk songs from a collection book.

Together we once went to Bucharest and recorded a few songs that were aired on a Sunday morning for children broadcast on National Television. Yes we were all wearing the local traditionals vests made of polecat fur (borrowed from generous neighbors).

At the age of seven i once cried all day until my father bought me a camera, 70 lei or one day's wages. Again my grandfather was probably behind it. He once told me that one of his sisters had a photo studio back in Storojineț and she taught him.

When i look at it now i even remember the smell, it was made with formaldehyde resin. Wide film covered with red and black paper with numbers on the back read through a little red window when advancing the film. Could make prints with it in a darkroom directly with paper under, without an enlarger which my grandfather did for me. With it i did take some pictures before i broke it (was pretty brittle material).

I started school at 7 and i remember i was very excited about it but my mother warned me, it was not like kindergarten, the teacher gives you grades (it was from one to 10 in Romania back then) and that saddened me. I remember my first grade was a 9, at Romanian language. My 1-4 grade teacher, Valeria Mihalea, did look a lot like Italian actress Claudia Cardinale.

Acting kinda b...y (they called her a "severe" teacher). But she had another side (funny, laughing) that was showed during a trip with the whole class to Bucharest when she sat on front next to the driver.

I remember that day we were waiting a lot for the coach to come. The driver, who also looked like an Italian actor (dark skin, piercing blue eyes) had to fix the oil pan which got broken (by a rock?) or somebody tried to sabotage the trip? (Bus was most likely an Ikarus - 55).

Here is a pictures with my class mates in second grade (fall of 1968) at the age of 8. Probably done by my grandfather who became the photographer (weddings, funerals, colorized portraits, etc.) in that part of town after he got pensioned from his furniture painting job in Sadova.

I am at the right of the teacher, bottom row (white collar). I was taller than anyone and now i suspect some of the kids were actually 1 or 2 years younger than me. Like this guy second right bottom. Three of  the girls were wearing same traditional polecat fur vests.

Ok so here i am with my next big memory at the age of 8. My father was at some sort of supervisors school again in Suceava (for the factory they were building in Câmplung across the street) and had a room in a condo there and my mother was with him and they were both working at the wood processing factory in Suceava. Again with my grandmother and grandfather we went to visit them.

He had a small transistor radio and because the regular AA batteries were expensive, he used a bigger, cheaper battery external to the radio and of course i started to play with it. Was attaching and detaching those wires kinda like i was sending morse code messages and my father asked me what i was doing and i told him i was trying to contact the aliens.

In that day i saw my father and grandparents looked scared. It was the day of the invasion of Czechoslovakia by Soviet Union and of the famous Ceaușescu speech which opened for him the doors of west banks for borrowing money and building the industry that made so many things like condos and jobs for half Romanians.

Who quit those ancestral lands that were confiscated anyways by the pro Soviet regime and made into the so called cooperatives where they were working as laborers and moved into cities.

Later i learned from my father it was also rumored that Ceaușescu had a secret weapon, built with the help of Coandă, Tesla's and Einstein's friend, with which they melted the Soviet tanks that were about to cross the border years after the Soviet rule loosened up.

But in the end those loans ruined Romania, financially, leading to what historians have called "the 7 years of hunger by Ceaușescu".

But i believe that was triggered by the defecting of Pacepa and termination of low interest loans after the heard what  he had to say. Could the invasion, the speech have all been scripted, to allow Soviet Union to get some proxy access to western technology.

We moved for one year in downtown Câmpulung were my father took a job (and where he worked a lot to finish his graduating project for that school of supervisors). We were close to that repetitor in down town so we had a good signal for the TV to see the Apollo moon landing (and also heard about Apollo 13 accident).

The TV was by the brand Orion, very expensive (5000 lei or 3 months wages), made in Hungary, and had a contact problem at the channel selector and was flickering all the time and needed tweaking and sometimes hitting, yelling and praying. (Later they started to build TVs in Romania, which were about as reliable).

Then they finished the factory across street in west Câmplung and we moved back there. Soon he became the head of a wood carving department where they were making medieval French style furniture for export i believe in Germany. He was making good money there.

BTW, we never knew what my father did with his money until he came home with that car. He always kept saying he did not have any, wasn't drinking or smoking and went to borrow from neighbors when my mother forced him. But now i think he was borrowing from himself.

We were always hungry, my mother was spending her salary in a few days (yes, on cakes, coffee and cigarettes), and we were eating at grandmas. I remember day 11 and 26 of the month was jubilation day, or when she was coming with a paper plate with the cakes.

Most of my neighbors inhabiting that town had traditional small subsistence farms including milking cows, pigs and sometimes sheep and didn't have to buy food like milk, eggs, potatoes and sometimes meat and also had a job in one of those factories, but we had to buy everything. Most of them started building little by little new houses and because of planning, they all had to have 2 floors and look like villas.

Climate there at 2000 ft did not allow growing crops like corn or grapes, which were abundant were my in laws lived, some 50 miles east from there.

Later after i got married and was visiting Câmpulung i noticed this peculiar thing. As soon as i was getting off the train, during summers, the whole valley was smelling like cow dung. Because everybody had a stable with at least one cow in the back of the yard.

My in laws had also cow, sheep, pigs. 

In there they were organized in so called cooperatives, made with the confiscated land, where they did lots of manual labor and they were allowed to have like one acre so called "helping lot" where they were growing corn for animals and grapes for wine and they were also given some share, in the hundreds of pounds of wheat and sugar.

But they had absolutely no money. Maybe like 5%  of what people in factory got. Good for cigarettes and a bit of liquor. My father in law was using shoes i was throwing away for example.

Yes there was another factory across the street în Câmpulung, milk processing, built around year 1960 or the year of my birth, by the Swiss. They had these cisterns and were driving around that mountainous rural area, gathering surplus milk from those little farms. My mother worked there for a while. They had a siren that was going off three times a day, at 6 AM, 2 PM,  and10 PM for at least one minute each time. 

The furniture factory now is a mall, like so many others factories in Romania. Finished in 1968, it was there were all my family worked. I did so during HS vacations.

There is something i have to say today about it. They had these gigantic vacuums on top for cleaning saw dust and small debris from different machines and i don't know if they had any filters in place, thing is there were many times this super fine irritating wood dust in the air. Maybe that's why i started to love the rain.

There was an airfield behind both factories (now it's just a pasture or something) where i learned how to ride the motorcycle, around 10. I heard a story about my mother when she was a child being taken in a plane by one of the communist dignitaries (confirmed by her), maybe Dej or Botnăraș who was from Bucovina and had a villa în Câmpulung.

Today i suspect small planes could have landed and quickly taken off during the noise made by that siren, especially at 6 and 10 during shorter non summer days. To secretly bring in and out celebrities i will talk about later.

In 1972 i went to a summer camp in Hamburg, Germany. My grand grand father was in Germany, my grandmother wrote his address on the back of the suitcase lid, other boys in the dorm must have seen, the director of the camp (Klaus Meine from Scorpions) pushed me to call him, i think the plan was for me to stay there but the guys in charge at Bucharest Children's Palace scared me pretty bad before we left.

Yes it was the year of Munich terrorist attack that happened 2 months later.

Good thing i didn't stay, for the little time i spent i already saw some gay behaviour at the one of the boys from Germany (we were all 12 years old). And my gran gran father Andrei Lehaci (Andreas Lechatsch, not sure of the spelling, from Tübingen, then Stuttgart) was too old to take care of me anyways.

My grandma used to say after he divorced her mother, Rarița he then fled with Anna and a bag of money in Germany. Because the Soviets did not like capitalists (he had a small shoemaking shop in Pojorâta, probably apprentices). She even told me he was member of the Liberal Party and was arrested after a demonstration down town so he could have been still there when the Soviets came.

He died in a hospice when i was in HS and his wife Anna also from Romania didn't like my grandma when she went to see him, i think in 69 when she came back loaded with cheap gifts (i was given a watch and a suite and a tumbling monkey). He had i think a boy with her who was working in South Africa at the time.

And she told my grandfather in Germany was called an Ausländer all of his life. Also because i think he was part Jew and part Gypsy and probably Hungarian by name with some Romanian in him, judging by a color picture grandma brought from Germany.

In 1973 or after 6th grade the teacher Mihalea forced me to go into a summer camp in Costinești, a resort for youth at the Black Sea and my father had to pay for it (360 lei i guess, about a week's wages). Because the previous year the camp in Germany was free she said and she had some places to sell. By that time i had a camera of my own he also brought from another trip to Soviet Union.

But i have to stop here and say about Mrs.Dranga, our physical education teacher. She looked a lot like Marta Karoly, the wife of Nadia's trainor. I remember she was trying to teach us basketball in a covered court near the train station downtown and my sister got pretty good at it. But i was a sleuth like creature, absolutely not muscular.

Life was really slow in Câmpulung but i was slower than anybody. And a bit fat. They never let me play soccer with them by example. Could that had anything to do with my father's soccer accident, which could had traumatized me?

Then i saw the movie Judo Saga. All of a sudden i developed a passion for judo. They were no instructors in Câmpulung and i guess a few in the whole of Romania at the time. But i found a book at the book shop downtown and soon started to throw myself to the ground, with other kids in the neighborhood.

Strangely enough there was a guy renting a room in one of the neighbor's houses, engineer fresh out of college working at the milk factory who said he knew judo. He also looked a lot like the actor in the movie. He showed us some real throws.

So i went to the camp and teacher Dranga and one of my neighbors was there too and we put a rope on the beach and were jumping over it. Some guy passing by asked us if we were from some gymnastics school.

But with the same train we reached Costinești came a bunch of kids from Vatra Dornei, the closest city west of Câmpulung. There was among them a remarkable girl named Nadia. I fell in love mostly with her... legs. And face.

One day i snuck with my camera in front of her sheet at the beach and took a picture. I was expecting her to yell and react but to my surprise she smiled in a very... provocative way. However, i was just an overgrown stupid kid, or my mother's confidant so i just ran away. I think i sent her a picture in Vatra Dornei, i am not sure.

But Mihai Nuțescu continued learning gymnastic during his mandatory military stage and when i saw  him after he showed me some impressive skills. I think he reminded me of Bart Conner.

But when i got back home i discovered my camera was ruined. It wasn't working anymore because it had sand everywhere, in the lens and all the mechanisms.

However my grandfather found a small screwdriver, took it all apart with the patience of a clock maker, cleaned it and put it back together, and even oiled it with special oil for fine mechanisms making it like new which impressed me a lot. He was also good with fixing bicycles and all kinda mechanisms (also because he was a driver and probably his own mechanic during the war).

I think it was at the end of 6 or 7 grade when they hired me to take pictures of a whole kindergarten class. I think i did at least one film, and i remember handing them the pictures which were in a stack more than one cm stick. Can't remember what i have done with the money, most likely bought some more photo materials.

At the end of school i did pictures of everyone in the class and made a sort of a graduation panel which should still be somewhere at the school. I took a picture of it with a professional camera, on wide film and made big prints, i think A3 or double legal size or big enough for the faces and names to be recognizable (with the help of Mr. Mikitovici).

And my father reproached me for not charging my colleagues money for that. But i was like my mother, money never stuck with me. I was just happy i could finish the project in time.

My grandfather was a very skilled person. He once built himself a set of drums (he called them "jazz") and he went and played with other buddies at weddings. Because violin was not in demand. He was part of the band who was playing on Sundays "hora" at the "Cultural House" downtown which was an ancestral traditional Sunday dance in Romania. He was very mad when they replaced the band with a tape recorder.

He told me they took him to be an extra in the movie about the Romanian composer Ciprian Porumbescu. I recently watched the movie, could not see him there in the band or maybe he was in the back somewhere or they put a moustache on him. And yes we sometimes played together, him at violin and me at accordion.

However he had leg problems, probably due to undiagnosed diabetes and his legs became purple and were hurting and he started to drink which usually lowers blood sugar by increasing kidney output.

I remember when he came from weddings, with cakes for us, sometimes with his face swollen, beaten by other guys, a good Bucovinean tradition. From him i got the passion to listen to radio "Free Europe". He was doing so every evening.

I remember the first time i saw him drunk was that day when they brought my mother home after some guy, a potential ex suitor found her on the rail road, trying to kill herself. I started to cry just by seeing him like that, sad and drunk.

He died while i was in HS from esophageal cancer, he was not able to eat for months. I remember in that day i was in summer vacation, i was in the back yard chiseling letters on a marble tombstone plaque, something we both did for an extra buck (it was 3 lei or a loaf of bread or a pack of Carpați cigarettes for one letter).

My father gave me the chisels that were done at the maintenance shop in the factory with steel from files. I remember i once did a plaque that was already installed in the cemetery behind one of the churches downtown and everybody could pass and see me from the nearby street towards farmers' market which i did not like a lot.

Early fall of 1972. After going many days in a row at the river while weather was getting colder, i fell ill. A headache like i never had before, though in every winter i was making at least one time some form of severe tonsilitis that needed intra-muscular penicillin injections (the norm in Romania back then) or once even a stay at the hospital.

My mother took me to the hospital and they did a spinal tap. Liquid came clear. I remember i had to stay for 2 hours on my tummy after. Then they said i had viral meningitis put me in an isolation room. At least one other neighbor kid (Mihai's brother) had it in the same time.

It was a one weak ordeal. Alone in a small room. I could not sleep at night due to a lamp street next to window. They said i had photo sensitivity. The treatment back then in Romania was intra-muscular Polidin. I know it's for bacterial infections but it generally boosts your immune system.

I made it after one week but father told me the doctor said no more motorcycle rides (because of cold air flowing to the head maybe?). My father got the car next year anyways and i started driving that one on the same airfield. I think he left me ride the motorcycle and the car because he was feeling guilty about what happened to me during that ride on the slope with him and also the skills that i proved at 4.

Exactly 6 months after that i made hepatitis for which i stayed for 3 weeks in hospital, but not total isolation. Must have gotten it from those Polidin injections because they were reusing needles and syringes back then, after supposedly boiling them for hours in alcohol. A mild form, did not have full body jaundice, only the white of my eyes (they said). Missing 3 weeks of school was pretty challenging this time, i missed some important math lessons.

And here i am at another one. Starting with 5 grade we had separate teachers for all disciplines. For math, drawing and counseling i had a teacher that was looking exactly like Liz Taylor. She was supposedly an acting teacher with no college degree, and was reading all lessons from a book.

I think i discovered at the end of grade school the real math teacher at that school, who was a guy named Popescu living nearby school. He was sort of retired (though he seemed not old enough to me). I heard of him as being a good teacher and went to him for a few lessons before HS admission exam though he said to another kid i had no chance.

I remember he showed me a pile of handwritten courses from college, saying, "today i just can't believe i once went through them all". He had a sort of a curtain in the hallway where he was giving the lessons, for privacy, and when he pulled that one for the first time he said "this is like theater here".

Don't know about IQ but i had a good memory during grade school. Probably due to my early music background.

I could remember everything the teachers were saying in class though i was very lazy at doing homework. Every time the teacher asked something and the class went silent, out of boredom, i was raising hand and all of my colleagues hated me for that.

But i liked physics. Because of the teacher i guess (a very sexy young petite wearing short mini skirts).

One winter when i had a terrible cold and runny nose she sent me to the county physics "olympics". Kept pulling that handkerchief every minute or so during the test, there was not one single clean spot left, and i made 15 points out of 20, one point short of going to nationals.

One day in 5th or 6th grade during early fall at geography class the teacher told us about rains at the equator. She said it is sunny all day and then it rains every day at 2 PM. I was so envious of people living at the equator and wished a lot it would happened in there too.

Guess what. One whole week after that the pattern showed in our location. But at 2 PM precisely (had a watch, we were doing school in the afternoon those days due to lack of classes). I spoke with the physics teacher and told her that. She kinda freaked out and left me without a word. The pattern ended that day.

Now i recon it must have been a known local weather pattern during that time of the year and they took advantage of it to create a legend.

I was spending most afternoons (or mornings) when i was not at school at the Children (they called it Pioneers) House. They had workshops called "circles". I was at wood carving, carting, radio (electronics), photo, cineclub, taraf. There was a single one i haven't been to, and that was plane modeling. They were building there functional flying models resembling today's small plane like drones and even small rockets.

I remember during 7 and 8 grade i was dragging that accordion to the bus station to go downtown at Pioneers' House at least one time a week.

In seventh grade we had to do 3 weeks of "practice" which meant learning skills like locksmithing. The director of the school, a guy who looked a lot like Karlheinz Böhm arranged for us to go to a brand new workshop with benches with vice grips and all tools at the local Silvic HS. The teacher there asked us to build in that time a square and a compass out of 5 mm laminated steel sheet. I almost finished it before i got to the hospital with hepatitis.

In the spring of 74. Mihai Erhan (3rd from left, upper), my neighbor and life long friend came with a new trick. We were grabbing a branch of a long pine tree that was in a slope and jumping towards the slope, goin around the tree and landing on the other side while holding that branch. That would give the sensation of flying way above ground, for a few seconds.

But soon that was not enough and Mihai came with a rope and he climbed the tree (he wa a good climber) and tightened the rope high above and we did the same thing with the rope, flying above the slope around tree.

But soon that was not enough either and i came with the idea of tying a stick with a knot perpendicular to the rope, creating a device like i saw at circus flyers, only they had a stick between two ropes. And guess what. The stick slid out of the knot while i was "flying" and i landed on the slope and would not have been a big problem, i tried to cushion the fall with my hand like at judo when i hit my elbow to a rock that was sticking out of the ground.

My hand swollen in a few minutes like a loaf of bread. Mihai kept telling me to try and move it. (We were both 14). I went home in pain and then at the hospital where they took an X-ray and the doctor gave me some pain killers and sent me to Iași.

It was several months before i was admitted to Tehnoton HS and probably my escape from going to the Military High School in East Câmpulung which absolutely would have meant the beginning of a military career, when father persuaded me to go (to finally get rid of me i think).

At Iași Professor doctor Nae Niculescu said i needed surgery. Ok, no big deal, i said, i was in pain and waited for a relief. But he kept me about a week on pain killers saying the inflammation and swelling has to go down first. Health care was free for all during those years in Romania but there was this tradition and my parents of course gave him the usual gifts (bribe).

The Emergency Hospital for Children was built on a sort of hill or with a view to a lower areea, brand new and looked good inside which gave me much confidence. I remember i was sitting there, in some pain and watched through the window thousands of people moving like ants in a colony, back and forth around a number of buildings somewhere at a lower elevation and kept asking myself what was that. It was Tudor Vladimirescu campus, with more than ten thousands students, where i was to spend 5-6 years, some 5 years later.

One night a nurse came and gave me an enema (was standard procedure). In the morning they gave me an anti-anxiety pill and took me to the operating room but i still was not worried of anything. They started an IV, i think i heard the words sodium pentothal, and suddenly i awoke in the ICU unit, with a cast on my left hand covering my elbow, with some blood on it.

One of the most beautiful women i ever seen was there, attending. For a second i thought i was in heaven and she was an angel.

She gave me some tea from a jar (was that a sign) to clear the anaesthetic from my bloodstream. Then they sent me back to the saloon.

The doctor kept coming every morning (vizita as they call it in Romania) every time with a bunch of students and i think i heard him saying to the students the word "Re" while watching the new X-ray. 

One evening the whole procedure repeated, but this time i was a bit worried, mostly because i felt terrible because of side effects of the anaesthetic the day after. When i woke up in the ICU, the same woman gave me another jar of diluted tea. But right after that they sent me home, i don't think they took another X-ray.

They said they installed a silver screw to reattach that piece of bone.

On the streets i had trouble walking but i made it to yet another sister of my grandpa (i think they were 10 siblings) whose husband was a lawyer (state prosecutor) in Iași.

Could not gather my thoughts together. Since that day i was never the sharp kid i was before.

But as that was not enough.

When i went back to remove the cast, could not move my elbow articulation. And he decided i should do what they called a "mobilisation". That is forcing the articulation under anestezia. This time they used Ether which has a terrible smell. I awoke with some mobility in my hand but that went away in a few  hours.

He did a total of 4 so called mobilisations, each time me having to go to Iași. But next one was with chloroform and since i did not like that one either i think he did the rest with pentotal.

My elbow gained some 60% mobility but i was turned basically in some sort of vegetable for the next few months and maybe years after those six general anesthesia done within a few months with things today obsolete. I heard them saying, every general anesthesia shortens your life with six months (or was it years).

I cannot straighten my left arm to more than 45 (135 degrees out of 180). It is visible when i walk and especially when i sit i have a tendency to keep my left hand between my legs.

One day at the beginning of the VI grade (yes after Germany and meningitis) Mrs. MeZinu came to me  out of the blue during a break in the courtyard at school and introduced me to a guy one year older than me, Petrică (Peter) "Titi" Avram. He, his brother Ionel (Noni) and mother were living in a cottage right in front of the offices of the milk factory.

One room only, probably the only place there with no electricity.

He said he was the nephew of Emil Bodnăraș (uncle Mili he said) and there was a physical resemblance between them (on the Gypsy side). They said they just moved from Iacobeni, a remote place on Bistrița valley, a few tens of km away from Câmpulung.

He was writing with capital letters only like i did when i went to school (sign he didn't attend much school) and one day he showed me the design of a vehicle, resembling a race car with a propeller and a smaller propeller that was supposed to power the bigger one. He was dreaming of making a transformer that would take electricity from the "radiofication system" (a central amplifier downtown with wires and speakers in homes all over the city) to power their cottage.

They had little money and food and i saw his mother painting eggs for Easter.

I started to hang out with them a lot, he taught me how to smoke. But when i left at Iași, i lost contact with him and when i came in a vacation he told me he went to jail for shoplifting and i think that was after the death of Botnăraș and that was after he sent me a letter at Iași, with capital letters and full of grammar mistakes, during the time i was Gabi's roommate and he saw it and i got very embarrassed.

When i saw him next i was working at xIMU Bacău and he said  he was fixing TVs in Pojorâta where his mother married to a guy (i think i was at their place once). Fixing TVs in those days meant swapping tubes, and he had a stash of those and kept swapping them from one TV to another.

I think it was in the summer of 78. Cause i remember what i've done in 79. In the summer of 80 i had two exams left and learned all summer. But those were easy cause it was known, in fall those teachers would not fail no one. Ok let' say it was 1980. Maybe i will remember later. So i was either in last year of HS or first year of college. Maybe i will remember later some detail that would help me date this one.

I met this girl with fair curly hair, but i don't think she was totally blonde, maybe a shade of red. She seemed very fragile, both physically and maybe emotionally. Probably met her at the disco or someone intruded her to me. We went on a few dates, walking only in downtown Câmpulung. My father saw me once with her and tried to talk me out of it.

Then one day she told me she had a problem with the chemistry teacher. She was failed by Mrs.Mezinu, by then teacher at the Dragoș Vodă HS, where her husband was director and was due for a correction in the fall. But she was afraid she would not pass that time either.

Since i knew Mrs.Mezinu i told her to buy a bouquet of flowers and went together to her house which was not far from ours. It was easy, conversation was very short, she agreed to pass her as a favor to me, now i remember vaguely, i think she did it because i was probably her first ever student to go to college.

Days after she invited me to her place where she was living with her parents, an apartment next to downtown Câmpulung. We were laying on the bed, dressed, when her "brother" came into the room. A guy taller then me i think. He seemed very tall anyways when i was seeing him from the that POV. I felt very embarrassed and left, and that was the end of it. No, can't remember her name.

I was in Lake Oswego in that apartment managed by McNeely (Hubbard) and was crazy all the time due to the smoke coming from walls. I was out of control and today i am wondering how come nothing worse than getting diabetes happened to me during that time.

Yeah i remember at some time i got too many driving tickets in a short period (mostly if not all from not fully stopping when making a right turn on red at intersections with cameras) and i was put on a one month hardship permit by DMV.

One day i bought some summer sausage at WinCo in Tigard and was full of mustard grains that were irritating my stomach and went back with it, yelling at the employees. I remember this Asian guy who listened me without saying anything but went in the back and came with a woman, in her late 40s, dressed in a blue gown like uniform and she was trying to be nice to me. I calmed down and left.

It was a time when at WinCo i was seeing many celebrities including Princess Irina, Cătălina Ponor, the dead son of Travolta, etc.. Or was it before that. Though i started to have high BS (and didn't know it) i was in the best physical shape of my life because walking for hours in those hills at Tryon park with 7pounds dumbbells in each hand.

She did not look underweight to me at that time or anything though the years could be seen on her face. Too many shows in Vegas, too much partying?

I think it was in the same year or later when i was kicked from that place and started to look for a new apartment. But why do i remember i was here at the current place and talking to her on the phone? Was i at the beginning trying to get out of here too?

Cause i met her again as a manager at the next complex from here, Meridian that BTW looks about the same as this one if not worse. She kept telling me "she only wanted to help" like i did mack then in Câmpulung. But would not cross my mind.. But there was this younger guy in the office when i went there who seemed "protecting her" and not like me getting there.

Could had been her behind me finally escaping from there? Here at Rolling Hills there was not much difference, there was still smoke at least in the first years. Besides that, laundry vapor from the basement but at least no asphalt grains falling from the roof. BTW there is a lot of irritating insulation dust as i write here today. Wonder if would had been better if i moved to Meridian, having Celine d'Ion as manager.

But i think she was still the same fragile person, always manipulated by others. I always wondered. Was this song about me? Never seen the video before. There is a motorcycle and a bed. I remember in HS i had a long leather jacket with pockets like that i did not like because it was too large and i think my father wore it after.

I remember one day running with Mihai on the airport field with my fishing pole in one hand and was lightning all around. And at another time, again with him, riding some guy's motorcycle that had a very small engine but was modified and had lots of power and i accelerated a lot and then could not stop before a pile of logs at one end that wasn't there previously and i veered left and layed the motorcycle on the soft grassy soil and the motorcycle did not hit the logs or either of us gut hurt.

What is this, sex magic, alchemic manipulation of stollen memories? Could have never seen this video if it wasn't for writing this post. She getting sick from all energy being drawn from her all these years by magic?

Living like Michael Jackson in palaces like i saw in Reno and Vegas, with leaky walls, not properly maintained sanitation and AC systems? Something similar happened to Karen Carpenter after i went on one date with her also not knowing who she was.

Similar symbolism in the AHA video but over there they are actually featuring an ex class colleague.

Ok maybe it's time to write here about Mihai and i will begin with his resemblance with Mircea Baniciu.

During grade school, we were going afternoons still in the old building, must have been 4th or 5th grade, a music teacher came to us and did a selection for a choir. I remember her nick name, Pupa (which colloquially means kisser in Romania). I think she was an acquaintance of my mother.

Kinda Gypsy but cute. She listened to each of us, and when it came Mihai's turn, he could absolutely not catch the notes. He was tone deaf, we all thought. She did some rehearsals and then nothing happened. She left. But before that she thought a few of us how to do bass voice, but letting more air though the throat, cause she needed bass voices for the choir.

But one day i went to their place (next, big villa from hour modest house) and saw an accordion the same as mine with 32 bass buttons but different color. They seemed embarrassed and did not talk about.

Time has passed, i went to HS in Iași, but one day i came back home in a winter vacation and Mihai had two girls at home and lots of home made wine and a guitar. Back then there was this band Phoenix in Romania, i think they were trying to do hard rock that was never heard before in a country with lots of ethno music, and they were played on the radio all the time but i never seen them on Romanian television or in pictures back then.

So i sang one of their songs, with modified verses accompanied by guitar and Mihai was looking in disbelief with a strange smile on his face. Cause he didn't know i learned to play guitar by myself. Or he heard but never seen it.

Story is much longer and my blood sugar went low and my face hurts, but i will shortened this here for now.

Many years later, i think i was still in Lake Oswego when i saw Mihai's face on a picture of famous Mircea Baniciu, their main vocalist.

I called Erhans' place several times from Lake Oswego but every time it was only his brother or his mother picking the phone, saying Mihai was not home.

He was also over grown like me (same milk) and would have been 12 years old in this video.

The bassist, Kapl, the curly guy could have been another neighbor, the son of my godfather, also named Gigi (in Romanian is a diminutive of Gheorghe).

Yes this song is an ethno rock ballad. Officially the song is about an outlaw in southern Romania who were popular during communist era so they wouldn't have problems with censorship (taking from the rich, giving to the poor!).

However there are many references about Câmpulung in the song. Valea Seacă is an important neighborhood near downtown Câmpulung. Andrei was the name of my grand grand father. The song is sang in Bukovina style and accent. Mihai's father had a hunting gun with 3 barrels. 

Exide

It doesn't have anything to do with X from Xenu and his eternal battery. It's simply because it has a lifetime of 5 years instead of 4. And a shelf life of 6. Talking about the Exide brand, the one i have in the truck.

Today Angela reported difficult starts. A while ago i fixed the battery's positive connector which clamp's ends where bumping into each other not allowing a real good tightening. So i filed a bit one of those ends and voila! Fixed it, wasn't moving around anymore after tightening. The negative seemed solid, i gave it a good tightening together with all the numerous nuts around the connector. Man this car has lots of nuts around battery's connectors. She said that miles are high (60k since) and many starts and she is ready for a battery replacement.

Last time i searched, to my surprise, the cheapest decent battery i found for 2013 Elantra was around 150 dollars, Exide for 155.  Today i did one more search on an idea, "where can i find exide batteries" and again to my surprise i found, (where?) at the nearest Home Depot, for 107. Decent price, i said to myself but Angela was going to sleep (she did "boxes" today, the toughest job at work, which involves lifting hundreds of boxes, all day, 16-25 pounds each). So i tried to do some searches while she was sleeping, the guy upstairs didn't let me, every time i started to search he started to squeak, at first waking Angela, then after i complained (not after she hit the wall several times) he let her sleep and came on the other side on top of my head so i stopped and slept myself.

Slightly bigger capacity, from 60 to 65. So after 8 i ran to Home Depot to get it. First, i forgot the mask in the car, (when are they going to stop with the stupid masks) and tried to take a mask from a stack at the entrance and they where clumped together and the others fell but i caught them in mid air and put them back, after touching a few, and then could not find the battery, "nobody in the store knew they sold batteries", "we used to sell them" said the man after i showed him the picture from their site saying "one available at Tigard store", then after i told him how i did the search he remembered "They keep moving them around" though i'm sure battery was in the same place for  years because if was full of dust, (just checked, shelf life is 6 years), i hope it's been for less, maybe since they opened the automotive department. Hence the price.

More adventures. At the checkstand big screen said they were charging 121, no explanation. Difference is the core price, got to take the old one back tomorrow. Usual drill in parking lot, guys popping out of nowhere in front of my car, stuff like that.

But on the road. Got at the intersection with exit/ramp street (forgot the name, nevermind, Carman LOL)  while waiting on red a guy on a Harley, more than 6 ft tall, blue eyes, stopped at my right (two lanes turning left) moving his bike's horns left right several time, finally took off, for some reason, i didn't feel safe driving next to him so i let him do the corner before i left, then he turned his head left, probably towards where i was supposed to be, and i thought i recognized a familiar face from the news of course. Then he took first right, i guess there's a motel and a gas station there.

Got back home, popped both the trunk where the battery was and the hood and looked for some tools in the pocket of the door (man this car hides stuff in that pocket because of its shape), could not find what i was looking for but when i got out i saw a guy on a bicycle getting away from my opened trunk.

Then i went inside, searched for tools, more stuff happened but when i went outside the first time a guy on a motorcycle started in that second to make a terrible noise in the parking lot. I guess it was after 9, then i saw him riding his bike around the block with a martyr figure on his face. He then stopped the bike and did it all again about 3 times in total, every time when i was getting back outside. Finally got all my tools together (most difficult part of any job done on moonlight in the parking lot). Replacing battery itself took about 2 minutes. Could loosen negative by hand only. So that was the problem. However, when i did a test drive towards Wilsonville and back, got 40 mpg (on dashboard, round trip), like never before. Car has a different attitude. Feels like after i first got it and replaced the 5 years old battery. One or two steps on driveability on a 1-10 scale. Most likely because of the EPS (Electric Power Steering) which of course is depending on batteries connectors.

Coming back from Wilsonville for the first time i accelerated to 75 on the 65 area, got this habit from the recent long drives, and of course i ran into a State Police Dodge parked on the right side. He did not follow me but a guy with white bright lights had a turn signal that was contrasting with those white bluish lights in such a way for a second it gave me the impression of Police car flashing. On the last half mile while descending (about 100 ft altitude diference) towards my home exit a guy slowed down unexpectedly without brake lights coming on while i was doing a "long freeway pass" and had to steer instantly to avoid him and these are only the important scenes i had to go through tonight to replace a car's battery.

September 13

8:20 Welcome back my friends to the show that never ends... 8 years older than me? A very special, sweet woman, i met with her during a spring vacation in Câmpulung in or around 1980, she was speaking perfectly Romanian, i was with a bunch of people, ex-colleagues from 3rd grade, all her conationals, she was acting as a guide for a guided tour on a bus and my best friend's and mentor in Iași girlfriend from Piatra Neamț named Lia (never met her before, he later was very intrigued when i told him, like not possible), while talking to her at a table outside at Deia, i got very drunk and then we went for a walk in the woods, but when we wanted to go in her room, her roomate (the other Baccara) wouldn't leave us alone, there was another guy in the room and they told me a story about hiding jewelry in soap when coming from tours in the USSR, and then i met with her again at the Chinook Winds casino, maybe 4 years ago, she was siding and acting sweet to a guy playing next to me, it was then when i learned from that guy how to play wild deuces poker.

6:30 Moody Wall Street.

7:08 Tormar

8:06 Sper să nu uit. De azi înainte, în fiecare luni, o amintire despre buget. Astăzi. Unde se duc jumătate din banii de pe fluturașii dumneavoastră, TVA, impozitul pe profit al firmelor (alea care plătesc). Până și pensiile se impozitează.

Se numește buget. Toți banii aceștia se adună, se mai adaugă niște împrumuturi (se numește deficit) și apoi se repartizează la ministere. Cel mai mult cheltuiește Ministerul Educației, Sănătate (fiindcă au mulți angajați). Urmează Transporturile, Muncii, etc.. A venit Cîțu cu o dare de seamă la 6 luni, însă numai în procente.

Eu am calculat că în fiecare an dispar de la buget aproximativ 30-40 miliarde de euro. Recunosc, fișierul din postarea asta de blog e cam aiurea. E mai mult pentru contabili. Însă nu se poate face altfel. Iată versiunea calculată de mine a bugetului real pe 2020.

10:49 On April 8 i bought two mole chasers after i decided i've had it with those. On Amazon most brands were solar however a few were with D size batteries. Much bigger, though it allowed you to completely put them in the ground, so they cannot be seen (or heard). When batteries went out, almost 4 months later, they also mysteriously broke so i said to myself, i should not buy that brand anymore. They were other brands, but more expensive. So i just bought 2 cheap solar ones, for 15 bucks. I put one under the main door and one not far from bedroom. Not so loud as the first ones, it only blocked moles on a radius of 15 feet maybe. They were more moles on the corner of the building. So i bought two more. Not easy to drill those holes. There was one more problem. Not very easy to spot if buried at soil level, by not being completely buried their buzz could attract attention of kids and also scary pets.

Thursday i washed the stairs, screens, other areas of the building with a hose, but i got tricked, cause they came to blow the dust on the parking lot, later. So i just hosed everything one more time. Friday we got an announcement, they will pressure washer all the stairs and landing areas in the complex. Saturday morning one of the new solar buzzers, the one i put last, most visible, was missing. There was a kids' bicycle on the area next to hydrant which i took next to garbage bin. Today, after they power washed our building (low level first, had to sweep the deck after they hosed the upstairs one), i took the solar one left apart, analyzed it, saw it worked at 1.5 volts, cut one of those with batteries in two, put two D size batteries in parallel, (estimating it will last 2 months) and the electronics from the solar one. Much smaller, much more compact, sound similar in intensity with the first ones, but then i fell asleep. I woke up chocked by again some sort of smoke. It took me half hour to catch my breath.

So i just went and put this new short, 2 battery one in the ground at the intersection of two mole galleries. Not visible, not audible from above surface. Then i went to deflate tires of the truck to 29 cause this truck has, i don't know 3/4 inches thick springs and the sits broke the sheet metal they were screwed on because of suspension being very stiff and of course my back, in a few stages, last one, after i didn't have the car anymore i drove the truck for about a week then i almost could not walk, now i'm better after not driving it for a few days. Cause tomorrow i have to drive Angela at work, she took one day off today because of that. They made a mess with the pressure washer, one of the wheels had mud on it, i went and washed it and saw another solar chaser on the ground next to the truck. They took it from under main door.

Conclusion. Since they watch me 24, they saw what i've done, combining two types in one and they took the one from under door but still made it available to me so i do it one more time (the conversion) and then put it next to the door. Theory is probably i'm trying to attract curious kids with first bicycles then buzzing mole chasers. So probably it's a trap (because they took it but left it so i can find it so i have wht to convert) so i will just wait for a few days to see what happens. Trouble is, new mole holes will pop under door now that that one is missing.

There are very strict rules in the US, underage kids cannot be left unsupervised, however here in the complex it seems nobody obey any rules.

There is one more next to bedroom. The last one they took out from under door was in a red chips area, i brought it inside and when the fridge started, my face, and skin started to hurt, that dust is being agitated in the air by the ultrasound of the fridge an no matter how little amount it is, it start to fly and sting, so i just washed it.

There was a plastic (a piece of shower curtain) under the deck upstairs, kinda enclosing it to prevent dust from falling, was there for i don't know, more than a year, i had to take that one out today. But guess what. When i looked there was lots of stuff left by the washing between boards, and some fell on our deck and  had to sweep it.

Also the guy upstairs went quieter and quieter and now is missing completely. Wheel click on PC if you want to see a picture better, as per google, blogger modifications led to smaller images in slideshow mode. BTW this is the only buildin in the complex i know of with this kinda design, deck with spaced boards on top of deck.Nu știu cum să mai spun. Ăștia de ne conduc, clasa impostoare, homo australis, au ceva în ei (nu pot să spun ADN fiindcă nu sunt convins de teoria respectivă) care îi face să gândească altfel decât noi, și pentru că au trăit izolați de restul lumii pentru zeci de mii de ani. Astfel, ei au descoperit poate multe milenii în urmă, metoda asta a îngânării (apropo, Nyungan language, Noongars, ninja, Nuwa). Spune cineva ceva important, se ia cineva de ei, nu se agită, nu reacționează, ci fac doar aluzii ascunse și repetă parțial cândva mai târziu când nu te prinzi în contexte super emoționale create sau alese special. Sunt nenumărate exemplele, și metodele lor sunt atât de puternice încât pur și simplu șterg din mintea cuiva o informație, punând în locul ei alta.

Un exemplu este știrea cu Apple care repară, cu o poză care arată o clădire cu coloane verticale similare cu cele de la WTC. Am scris despre marea dezamăgire care a fost pentru mine 911 etc. etc..

Am adus în față, acum câteva zile o postare pe care am compus-o chiar pentru scopul acela, încercând să arăt că practic toți prim miniștrii numiți de Iohannis sunt actori unguri (am uitat să spun despre Cîțu, el e într-adevăr mai special pentru că are o privire hipnotică) (puteți accesa orice postare a mea anterioară prin săgețile din dreapta care deschid anul, luna, căutare pe cuvinte cheie sau titlu dacă vi-l amintiți), a apărut astăzi Cîțu în compania lui Piedone, tot așa, o metodă veche de-a lor de a-și spăla propria imagine. Adică, aparent, s-a murdărit de Piedone, dar în realitate s-a spălat, lumea se gândește că iată, Piedone e mult mai rău în comparație cu orice prim ministru din lista aceea destul de lungă pentru un singur președinte.

DEX dă la îngânare etimologie latină dar nu știm data când a intrat în latină acest cuvânt, înainte sau după Atilla.