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Everything about life in the USA 🇺🇸 Buy ads: https://telega.io/c/american @Source_Ads ↪️ Feedback : @cobbl
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Dead Man's Island ... continued...
There was no storm in the morning, but it was still
raining. I got up early and worked on the farm. There were
eggs from the chickens and I put them in boxes. I helped
to milk the cows and then took them out to the field.
Later, I went back into the house for breakfast. 'Did
you sleep all right last night?' asked Mrs Duncan. 'Or did
the storm wake you up?'
'I. . . slept all right,' I said. I didn't want to tell her about
the light in the locked room, or about Mr Ross.
After breakfast, I went back upstairs. Mr Ross was
talking on the telephone in his office. My mother was
working at her desk. I knew that Mrs Duncan was in the
kitchen and that Mr Duncan was working in the garden.
'Where's Mrs Ross?' I thought.
Then I looked out of the window and saw her with
Tony Duncan. They were walking to the boat.
'He's taking her out in the boat,' I thought. 'Perhaps
she's going to Edinburgh.'
The boat moved away from the island and I waited
until it was out at sea. Then I opened the door of my room.
There was nobody in the passage and I ran along to the
locked room. The key was still in the plant pot and I took
it out. My hand was shaking.
Then I unlocked the door.
I went into the room . . . and I was very surprised.
The room was full of strange things. Coloured shirts
and suits. Three guitars. And there were posters and
photographs on the walls. I looked at the posters. Jake Rosso's face looked down at me. I looked at the dead Jake Rosso's picture, and I remembered all the photographs on the walls of my room in Hong Kong. I could never forget that face - the face of my favourite singer.Then, while I looked at his face, something strange happened. I began to see another face in the posters. An older face, and with a moustache, but the same face. 1 saw the face of Mr Ross.
'No!' I said. 'It's not true!'
But it was, I knew it was.
'Mr Ross is . . . Jake Rosso!'
'No!' said a voice behind me.
I turned round and saw Mr Ross. He was standing in
the doorway. He looked . . . afraid.
'I don't believe you!' I said.
'You have to believe me!'
I looked at the posters. 'Who is that, if it's not you?'
'It's Jake Rosso. He was . . . my brother.' 'That's not true!' I shouted. 'I don't believe you. Listen, Jake Rosso was my favourite singer - I had hundreds of photos of him. I still have all his records. I loved him, do you understand? Thousands of people loved him.'
'He's dead,' Mr Ross said quietly.
...to be continued...
@american
When I was a young man, I wanted to change the world.
I found it was difficult to change the world, so I tried to change my nation.
When I found I couldn't change the nation, I began to focus on my town. I couldn't change the town and as an older man, I tried to change my family.
Now, as an old man, I realize the only thing I can change is myself, and suddenly I realize that if long ago I had changed myself, I could have made an impact on my family. My family and I could have made an impact on our town. Their impact could have changed the nation and I could indeed have changed the world.
@american
Dead Man's Island ...continued...
Sometimes I saw Greta Ross. 'She likes to be alone,' I thought. Once or twice I saw Greta go out with her painting things. She went up on the hills or down to the beach. Mr Duncan took me to the farm and I met Dan and Stella Parks. They were very friendly. 'You can work on the farm for the next three days,' said Dan Parks. 'Mr Duncan says you're a good gardener. Are you a good farmer, too? I smiled at him. 'I am,' I said.
He smiled back. So I worked on the farm with Mr and Mrs Parks. They were nice people. 1 helped with the cows and the chickens, and went up on the hills withMr Parks and his dog to look at the sheep. One afternoon I went out riding. Smoke was a big, lazy, friendly horse. I enjoyed riding and Smoke knew his way around the island very well. I learned new places to go to. I rode along the cliff top and then in between some trees. When we came out of the trees, I saw the house from
the other side. I tried to find the window of my room. Which one was it? Suddenly, I saw a face at one of the windows. The face was looking at me. It was there for just a second or two, then it moved away quickly. 'Who was that?' I thought. 'Was it Mr Ross? And which room was it?' I didn't see my mother very much that first week. She worked all day and in the evenings. She wrote letters to South America, Japan, Canada and Australia. Sometimes, she worked after I was in bed. 'Mr Ross works hard,' she told me. 'He invests money in many companies and countries. But it's not his money.' 'It's not!' I was surprised by this. 'No, it's his wife's money.
And she bought the island. It's her island, her house, her farm. Everything belongs to her.''How strange. But why does Mr Ross always look sad? And why does he never leave the island? I asked. 'I don't know,' said my mother. 'He says he likes it here and likes working on his farm. It's strange, I know.' Sometimes, when I finished work, I walked along the beaches or thecliffs. Or I went swimming in the sea. I liked swimming. Greta Ross often came to the beach to swim, but Mr Ross never came.'Stay away from the rocks, Carol,' Greta Ross told me. 'They're very dangerous.'
'1 will,' I said. Sometimes I took my camera to the beach and took photographs of some of the boats that went by. I took photographs of the birds on the cliffs. There were other small islands near our island, and boats with tourists stopped at them. But no boats stopped at our island. They kept away from the dangerous rocks. Tony was right. The island did not have visitors. One day, I was walking back to the house, and had my camera with me. 1 stopped and looked at the big house. Mr Duncan was working in the garden in front of it. At first, he didn't see me. 'I'm going to take a photograph of the house,' I thought. 'The sun isin just the right place, and it will make a good picture.' I looked at the building through my camera, and took the photograph. Mr Ross was coming out of a door. He was in my picture, too, and he looked angry. 'That's all right,' I thought. 'It's still a good photograph.' But Mr Duncan was running across the grass. He came quickly up to me and said, 'Give me your camera.' He looked very worried. 'What's wrong?' I asked in surprise. I gave him the camera. 'Never take photographs of Mr Ross,' he said.
@american
We went to Scotland the next day, first by plane, then
by train. Greta Ross travelled with us.
I looked out of the train window and saw fields and
villages and mountains. 'Mum is right,' I thought.
'Scotland is a very beautiful place.'
'You're going to be my husband's secretary,' Greta
Ross told my mother. 'He's a businessman, but he never
leaves the island. He does all his work by telephone and
letter and computer. He invests money in companies, all
over the world.'
'Do many people live on the island?' I asked.
'Not many,' said Greta Ross. 'You'll meet them soon.'
'Greta Ross is young,' I thought. 'Is her husband young,
too? How can a young man buy an island? Is he very rich!'
After the train, we went on Mr Ross's boat, which took
us out to the island. The boatman was a young man. He
had dark hair and was brown from the sun.
'This is Tony,' said Greta Ross. 'He works for Mr
Ross.'
'Hi,' said Tony.
Soon we were near the island. I could see the beaches
and the cliffs. The boat slowed down.
'There are dangerous rocks around the island,' explained
Tony. 'A lot of them are under the water and you can't
see them. I have to be careful. But the rocks keep other
boats away, and that pleases Mr Ross.'
'Why?' I asked.
Tony looked at Greta Ross but she wasn't listening.
'Mr Ross doesn't like visitors to the island,' Tony said in
a quiet voice.
Then Greta Ross looked at us and Tony said no more.
'Why doesn't Mr Ross like visitors?' I thought. 'Has he
something to hide?'
When we arrived on the island, my mother and I followed
Greta up to the house. It was very big and there were trees
all around it.
A woman was waiting inside the house.
@american
“How long did you live in Hong Kong, Mrs Sanders?” “Seven years,” answered my mother. “My husband died in a plane crash last year, so we’ve come back to live in England.” “Where did you live before Hong Kong?” “We lived in India for three years.” Then Greta Ross took my mother into a room and asked her more questions. I waited outside. “Greta Ross is nice,” I thought. “I hope my mother gets the job.” Soon after, the door opened and my mother came out. She was smiling. Greta Ross said, “Please wait here for a minute, Mrs Sanders. I want to make a phone call.” She went back into the room, and closed the door. I was sitting on a chair near the door, and I could just hear Greta Ross’s voice speaking on the phone. “I think I’ve found someone,” she was saying. “She has a daughter, but the girl can work in the garden or on the farm… Don’t worry, they’ve been away from England for ten years… It’ll be all right, I tell you… Don’t worry.” After a few minutes, Greta Ross put down the phone and came out of the room. “You’ve got the job,” she told my mother. My mother was pleased. “Thank you,” she replied. I was pleased, too, but now I was worried about that phone call. I didn’t understand it.
@american
I knew she was angry but I didn’t care. But then I learned my new friends took drugs, and I began to take drugs, too. It was wrong and stupid, I know that now, but I was unhappy and angry. The police came to the college to arrest some of the students. They didn’t arrest me, but I had to leave the college. It was a bad time. My mother was very unhappy with me. “What am I going to do with you, Carol? She said. “I’m sorry,” I told her. “We’ll go back to England,” she said. “You can find a college there. Perhaps you can be happier in England.” “All right,” I said. “I want to forget what’s happened. I want to forget what I’ve done and begin a new life, be a new person.”
... to be continued ...
@american
Dead Man's Island ...
My name is Carol Sanders. I live in England now, but when I was younger, I lived in Hong Kong. My father was a businessman there and my mother worked as a secretary. We lived in Hong Kong for seven years. I was happy at school, with lots of friends, and we had a good time. I liked pop music-the Rolling Stones, David Bowie and Jake Rosso were my favorites. Jake Rosso was my favorite singer. He died in a car accident the year I left school, but I listened to his pop records all the time. I had hundreds of pictures and photos of him on my bedroom wall. Then one day in winter when I was seventeen, things began to go wrong for me. My father went to Australia on business. I loved him very much and didn’t like him going away. “Come home quickly,” I always said to him. He was in Australia for two weeks. Then, on the day of his journey home, an airplane from Sydney crashed into the sea just south of Hong Kong. Everybody on the plane died. I heard about the plane crash on television. At first, I did not think about my father. Then I remembered he was flying back from Sydney on that day. “Oh, no!” I cried. I telephoned the airport but they did not know the names of all the passengers then. “Perhaps my father didn’t get that plane,” I thought. “Oh, please! Please!” My mother was at work and I called her on the telephone. She came home quickly and we went to the airport and waited for news. Later, we learned my father was on the plane. “It’s not true!” I shouted. But it was true, and I began to cry. I cried for weeks and weeks. I spent many days alone in my room. I was lonely and sad and I wanted to die, too. I stopped going out with my friends. I didn’t want to see other people. I stopped listening to Jake Rosso’s records, and took his pictures off my bedroom wall. I didn’t listen to music or watch television. Nothing mattered any more. Then I stopped crying. I stopped feeling sad and began to feel angry. “Why did it happen to him?” I asked my mother. “Why do the best people die? Jake Rosso. My father.” “I… I don’t know, Carol,” my mother said. She was unhappy, too.
At the time of the plane crash, I was a student at college. I enjoyed the college work and life very much, but after my father’s death I stopped doing my work at the college. I began to go out with some new friends. They were different from my other friends, and my mother didn’t like them. “They’re bad people, Carol,” she told me. “They do dangerous things.”
... to be continued...
@american
🥀🌱🌿🥀🌱🌿🥀🌱🌿🥀🌱🌿🥀🌱🌿🥀
6 Tips for What to Do When You Feel Exhausted by Life
1. Avoid the "Belief in a Just World" Trap.
"Belief in a just world" is a type of cognitive bias that has been studied by social psychologists. For example, people often hold an attitude that if others are poor, they must deserve to be poor.
Don't fall into the trap of thinking "If I'm struggling, I must deserve to be struggling. I must be struggling because I'm useless."
The playing field of life isn't level. A lot of smart, talented people are dealing with very tough situations. For example, large medication bills and no insurance. All of us have made some poor decisions in life. Sometimes there are few consequence, and other times people spend their whole lives recovering from the consequences of earlier decisions.
2. Remind Yourself You're Doing the Best You Can.
"Remind yourself that you’re doing what you can right now given the circumstances and your resources. Practice flexibility so that you can take advantage of opportunities for change."
3. Avoid the "I Just Need To Work Harder" Trap.
If you tend to react to stress, struggling, or exhaustion by attempting to just work harder, try slowing down instead.
As above, you're likely already trying your best. Telling yourself that the answer to solving your problems is just working harder isn't likely to be an accurate thought.
The trap here is that by telling yourself the problem is not working hard enough, you're likely to close yourself off to trying new ways of coping. An example I see in my practice all the time is people who respond to overeating by telling themselves they just need to try harder to stick to their diet next time. By attributing the problem to not trying hard enough, they try to solve it through willpower rather than seeking other strategies.
4. When you're tired of life, recognize rumination.
People often try to think their way out of their problems. While this obviously can be adaptive, it's important to understand that overthinking while in a depressed mood actually impairs the quality of problem solving solutions people generate.
If you've already thought a lot about your problems/situation, recognize that the answer to your problems probably does not lie in doing more thinking about how to solve your problems.
Taking a break from thinking about your problems is more likely to lead to you taking action on simple things you could do to improve your situation or mood rather than continued thinking.
Taking a break from thinking about your problems can be achieved through activities like seeing friends, or through trying some mindfulness meditations to practice focussing your attention elsewhere.
5. Regulate Your Rhythms.
A core part of treatment for bipolar disorder is encouraging the person to develop regular routines of sleeping, eating, socializing, and working. Regulating these rhythms helps regulate mood and energy. This basic principle is true for people generally.
If you're prone to boom and bust cycles of sleeping, eating, socializing, and/or working, try some consistent routines.
6. Use Physiological Self-Soothing Strategies.
If you're feeling paralyzed by fear and exhausted by life, you're probably experiencing the freeze aspect of the "fight / flight / freeze" response.
To be able to think straight, it's absolutely critical you learn to use simple physiological strategies to calm your nervous system. Try rolling up your sleeve and stroking your arm (releases oxytocin), gently rubbing your lips with one or two fingers, or the hand rubbing technique listed here.
Develop a personalized plan for simple things you can do when your anxiety is high or your mood is low.
@American
There was no storm in the morning, but it was still
raining. I got up early and worked on the farm. There were
eggs from the chickens and I put them in boxes. I helped
to milk the cows and then took them out to the field.
Later, I went back into the house for breakfast. 'Did
you sleep all right last night?' asked Mrs Duncan. 'Or did
the storm wake you up?'
'I. . . slept all right,' I said. I didn't want to tell her about
the light in the locked room, or about Mr Ross.
After breakfast, I went back upstairs. Mr Ross was
talking on the telephone in his office. My mother was
working at her desk. I knew that Mrs Duncan was in the
kitchen and that Mr Duncan was working in the garden.
'Where's Mrs Ross?' I thought.
Then I looked out of the window and saw her with
Tony Duncan. They were walking to the boat.
'He's taking her out in the boat,' I thought. 'Perhaps
she's going to Edinburgh.'
The boat moved away from the island and I waited
until it was out at sea. Then I opened the door of my room.
There was nobody in the passage and I ran along to the
locked room. The key was still in the plant pot and I took
it out. My hand was shaking.
Then I unlocked the door.
@american
Dead Man's Island ... Continued ...
'This is Mrs Duncan, Tony's mother,' said Greta. 'She's the housekeeper and her husband is the gardener. Mrs Duncan will take you up to your rooms. I'm going to tell Mr Ross you've arrived. The housekeeper was a little woman with short hair. She went up the stairs, and my mother and I went after her. My room was next to my mother's. 1 looked out of the window and saw the gardens at the back of the house. A man was working in the garden, near some trees. 'Is that Mr Duncan?' I thought. I looked between the trees and saw the sea. 'It's a beautiful house and a beautiful island.'
That evening, we had dinner with Mr and Mrs Duncan and Tony. We ate in the big kitchen. What happened to Mr Ross's last secretary? asked my mother. She's in hospital,' replied Mrs Duncan. 'She's going to be away all summer.' Isn't Mrs Ross lonely here?' I said.'No,' said Mrs Duncan. 'She likes painting a lot. She has a room upstairs and goes there to paint. She's very good. Sometimes she goes to different places on the island to
paint pictures.' We finished eating our meal. Soon after, Greta Ross came into the kitchen. 'Mr Ross wants to see you and your daughter now, Mrs
Sanders,' she said. 'Follow me, please.'
We followed her through the house and into a big room. This was Mr Ross's office and he was sitting behind a desk. I was surprised. He was a young man, about thirty. He
had a moustache, short dark hair, and he wore glasses. Mr Ross was speaking into the telephone. 'Who does he look like?' I thought. 'Is it Tony Duncan?' 'Mr Ross is talking to a business friend in New York,'
said Greta. 'Please, sit down.'
While we waited, I looked around the office. There were three telephones, a computer, and lots of books and
papers.
There was another door and I could see a smaller room,
next to the office.
There was a smaller desk and another
computer in there. Mr Ross finished speaking on the phone, then looked
carefully at my mother and me. For a few seconds he didn't speak, and just watched us. Then he said, 'I'm pleased to meet you, Mrs Sanders. I need some help with my work. My secretary is in hospital, and there's a lot of work to do. Sometimes you'll have to work late at night, because of time differences in New York and Tokyo. Is that all right?' 'Yes, that's all right,' said my mother. 'Can you use a computer? 'Yes.' 'Good.' He looked at me. 'Is this your daughter?' 'Yes, this is Carol,' said my mother. 'Hallo,' 1 said. 'Greta says you like gardening. There's a big garden
here, so you can help Mr Duncan. And there's a farm. Dan and Stella Parks live in the farmhouse and work on the
farm. You can help them, too. We have some animals. Some sheep, a few cows and chickens. And there's a horse called Smoke. He's grey, like his name. Can you ride?' 'Yes,' I said. 'I can ride a horse.' 'You can ride Smoke around the island, if you like.'
'I'd like that,' I said. 'Thank you.'
'And we grow vegetables and fruit,' he said. 'I work on the farm sometimes. I enjoy it.' I smiled at him but he didn't smile back. 'Carol will enjoy working on the farm,' said my mother. 'Won't you, Carol? 'Yes,' I said. 'Mr Ross looks sad,' I thought. 'But how did he get all his money? And why does he hide away on an island?' I worked in the garden for the first two days. The weather was hot and sunny. I liked working with Mr Duncan, and he was pleased with my work. 'You're a good gardener,' he said. 'I've always liked gardening,' I said. 'But I'm studying at college to be a farmer.'
To be continued ...
@american
It’s a beautiful country, Carol, and you can go to a college there in the autumn.”
“And it’s a place to live for the summer,” I said. “Hotels are expensive.” My mother telephoned Greta Ross. Come and see me tomorrow, Greta Ross told her. “Come to Savoy Hotel at eleven o’clock.” I went to Savoy Hotel with my mother. It was big and expensive, bigger than our hotel, and in the centre of London. “Mum needs this job,” I thought. “And a private island in Scotland is a nice place to live. Perhaps I can forget what’s happened if I go there.” “Room twenty-two,” said the woman at the hotel desk. “Go on up. Mrs Ross will see you now.” Greta Ross was waiting for us. She was about thirty years old and very beautiful. She wore an expensive red dress and her hair was very long and dark. “This is my daughter, Carol,” said my mother. “Hallo, Carol,” said Greta Ross. “Hallo,” I said. “Carol is eighteen years old,” said my mother. “Can she come with me, if I get the job? Perhaps she can help in the house or in the garden. She likes gardening. She’s studying farming at college.” “Perhaps,” said Greta Ross. “There’s a small farm on the island.” “I’d like to work on the farm,” I said.
To be continued...
@american
A month later, we came back to England. We lived in London, in a hotel. It was strange, at first, with all the red buses and everybody speaking English. It was the beginning of the summer, three months before college began in the autumn. London was full of tourists. We looked at all the famous buildings-Buckingham Palace, the Tower of London. And we went to restaurants and theatres in the evenings. It was interesting and exciting and I began to forget the bad times in Hong Kong. “I’m pleased we came to London,” I told my mother. But after a few weeks, she said, “You need to find a college, Carol. You must go on studying. And I need a job.” That evening, we looked in the newspapers. “What about this?” I said. I showed my mother a job in the newspaper. Secretary For the summer months On a small private island in Scotland. Live with the family in a big house. Interesting work and good pay For the right person. Phone Greta Ross. Telephone number 071… “Well, that sounds interesting,” said my mother. “I’d like to work as a secretary on an island in Scotland.
@american
YOUR GREATNESS ...
Thank you all who believe in your greatness for that is the first step to achieving your dreams.
You must not be afraid to try and you must not be afraid to make mistakes. Some people will enjoy your failure, some will even pay to see it. They will not understand that with every failure you get the success of learning.
The person who tries and makes mistakes is better than the person who does not try because the person who does not try has not even started making mistakes.
Before a plane takes off it first moves on the runway to gain momentum. The plane does not rise instantly
The runway momentum is very key to the plane rising. You may seem to be working but not rising. You work every day following your dreams but your situation does not get any better. This is the truth, just like a plane is built for the sky you are born for greatness. You may not be rising because you are on the runway but you will rise when you have enough momentum.
When you have gained enough momentum not even gravity can pull you down. In this case, gravity is anyone who wants to see you fall and people who discourage you. If you have been up before you understood you would have low moments.
A plane can't stay in the sky forever. It must land for servicing and refueling. Use your lowest moments to reflect and become a better you. Use your lowest moments to improve yourself, this will prepare you for the next flight in life.
Yes, you were born for greatness so hit the runway.
@american