Our Patches (11) on the left. Our puppy Luna, seventeen weeks old, fell asleep right beside her—worn out and at peace.
Tag: <span>learning</span>
Our puppy Luna, fourteen weeks old. Here she is: all legs, funny ears, and lots of energy. She is at the age where her body, ears, and legs haven’t agreed on what end size they want to be. “Stop growing so fast,” I want to tell her, but I fear it’s hopeless.
I do read the front-page news as well, but prefer stories away from shootings, murder, politics, and the endless drama they provide for too long. It comforts me to see that the rest of the world is interested in bettering not just their country, but the world and all the creatures and lifeforms on it.
Our new puppy is smart. We were hoping for a dumb dog. At our age, the last thing we need is a dog that outsmarts all of us, yet here we are. Our Luna is intelligent, cute, sweet, and the happiest puppy we have ever had.
Once upon a time, there lived a good king who ruled his land wisely.
He used the taxes his citizens paid to build schools and universities so that young people could learn all trades and study all sciences, thus better serving one another. He also built hospitals and trained doctors so that his citizens would not suffer from more illnesses. He had roads and railways built so that goods produced in one part of the country could be quickly transported to all other parts of the country where they were needed. He urged his judges to judge fairly and forbade his officials from accepting bribes.
First, I bought a new microphone, because, of course, I will narrate my own book. Everybody is doing it, right? Well, turns out I am not everybody. I sound terrible, and it’s not just my accent.
…
I was an ungrateful reader at times, a moody one as well. I opened each book with the highest expectation and closed many not even halfway in. I had this rule, made up by me, to save myself from wasting time, like I would never waste time doing silly things—ever.
…
Somehow, not sure how it happened, I ended up writing a book. I thought the hardest part was over when I finished the final chapter and the epilogue, but I was wrong. Along came the editing process—a special kind of nightmare and so much tougher than I thought it would be.
…
From today’s point of view, the teacher of my school days who taught me a lot was a pretty weird guy. He was the only male teacher in a boarding school in Bavaria, a school run by Catholic nuns.
…
EVERYTHING, even the dumbest of the dumb decisions I made (and there were many) helped me grow because there is no such thing as failure when you continue trying.