Session February 22, 2020

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We are left with a dilemma.
By TT

content forthcoming

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I escaped from the beseiged town during a tempest.
by BG

content forthcoming

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As a practical matter, we often have no choice but to begin with a part rather than a whole.
By CT

That’s what I thought the very first day I joined the folk dance troupe.  Did I get any instruction of the basic steps.  No-o-o, I did not.

    

The ladies on either side of me clasped my hands in theirs, and off we went.

    

We circled to the music, skipping and kicking.  We raised and lowered like so many frenzied butterflies.  I finally discerned that we raised our hands when kicking and lowered them when our feet were firmly grounded.

    

Then, for no particular reason and with no warning, they changed direction; and I almost collapsed the whole circle.

   

Someone kindly suggested that I take a break and rest.  I scowled and muttered, “Ya coulda told me.”  I determined that this was also my very last day with the troupe.

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A chronically disorganized person is often late to events.
by RM

content forthcoming

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Imagine trying to press water into a small space.
By CC

Walter Mortimer Ahab came from a long line of sailors. Now he just hunted the ever elusive Icelandic cod in the far northern waters of the Atlantic. 

When he wasn’t hauling in a catch, which was more and more often the case, his mind wandered to other topics. He played Sudoku for hours and challenged himself to solve strange mathematical formulas. One day, as he watched the heaving swells surrounding his little boat, the Pequod VII, he thought, imagine trying to press water into a small space. What would that be like?

As he stood at the bow pondering this, the whale that had been following him for a few days surfaced for air and thought, Why am I doing this? I’ve never seen this man before. But I feel I must destroy him. It must be in my blood,” before diving again.

Three days later, Walter had worked out the formula for pressing all the oceans in the world into a small space. It was revolutionary. He knew it would throw the entire planet off balance, so the seasons would be confused, and, possibly, disturb its orbit so badly it would shoot out into space. This would be catastrophic for the human race, but since the Icelandic Cod fisheries were shrinking and so heavily regulated that he could not make a living at it, then he might as well pull the trigger and spare everyone else their certain suffering. They were living in a house of cards, after all.

He got out the required salt shaker and magnet for his project but before he could start, the whale rammed into the little ship and sunk it. The whale’s head hurt for a week afterwards but he remained convinced he had done the right thing. 

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In those days, the residents of Peking were still relatively wealthy

by RC

Han was very busy in those days, managing his land and trying to get his stubborn beasts to work properly for him. They were worse than mules—although he had never had a mule and had only heard reports about them from his more prosperous neighbors who had traveled internationally. 

Really, it was not merely his yaks that he had trouble with; his wife and his children were also difficult. It seemed to him that they wanted nothing more than to lounge around the yurt all day and watch television. Yes, Han had a television. After all, the whole world has television, even in the mountain heights of Peru. But in those days the residents of Peking were still relatively wealthy and that wealth trickled down—or up, you might say—even to the regions of Tibet.

When the snows came, then everyone stayed inside and watched TV, but when it was summertime they should all be working, Han kept repeating to them. When his wife did come out, she would stand behind him as he tried to plow and shout encouragement, and that was somewhat helpful. If only he could get the yaks to understand what he wanted to do. He knew that the work of yaks was really not supposed to be plowing, but he couldn’t afford any other animals. Yaks gave milk and butter and cheese, and fur for knitting clothes. What more could a man ask from an animal? But Han wanted a garden. He kept mumbling that old verse from one of the holy books: “Man does not live on milk alone.” 

Finally, a relative from Peking showed up, grinning and bragging about his wealth. When Han explained his predicament, the relative—a cousin—took one look at the field where he wanted to plant his garden and said, “You can’t grow anything here, Han. The ground is worthless. What you need is water and lots of fertilizer.”

Han blinked a few times and replied, “Water? Do you know how far we have to carry our water?” He turned and pointed to the distant hills. “From a spring atop those hills. Watering this land is impossible, but I do have lots of fertilizer, because of the yaks.”

“Well, put the fertilizer on the ground and pray for rain,” the cousin suggested. 

“It doesn’t rain much,” Han said, thinking hard about the advice. “But another problem is that I cannot get my yaks to plow for me.”

“Okay, here’s what you should do,” the cousin said, a bright smile on his face. “Sacrifice the yaks so that God will bring you rain. A sacrifice works every time.”

“Sacrifice my yaks? Are you sure?”

“Well it worked for several of my neighbors, although they didn’t have any yaks. They used dogs and cats.” He smiled again. “Yaks are a much bigger sacrifice than dogs, so you’re sure to get rain.”

Han was hesitant, but after thinking for a long time he did what the cousin had suggested. They had meat for a long time after that. And, sure enough, the rain did come. In fact, it rained and rained and rained. Han had spread his yak fertilizer all over the ground and he suddenly notice grass popping up. 

“It worked!” he shouted, running into the house excitedly. “It worked. Now I can plow the ground and have a garden.”

“With what?” his wife asked dryly. “We don’t have yaks any longer with which to plow. And we also don’t have any milk, any butter, or any cheese. Not only that, but winter will be here in another few months and our clothes are wearing out!”