MrsDoyle @ MrsDoyle @sh.itjust.works

Go on go on go on go on go on

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Joined

2 yr. ago

One of my favourite eggcorns.

Egg colour is down to genetics - some breeds, eg leghorn, lay white eggs. Others lay various shades of brown. It's what's inside that counts, and that depends a lot on what you feed a chicken.

Ski goggles. https://sfstandard.com/2022/12/25/the-worlds-only-private-ski-resort-where-mark-zuckerberg-and-bill-gates-hit-the-slopes/

Some of my non-techie friends were complaining about how rubbish Google search is now and I suggested Duck Duck Go. They couldn't get past the name. I know it's based on some childhood game in the US but it makes no sense to anyone here in the UK.

"The proof is in the pudding."

The actual phrase is: "The proof of the pudding is in the eating."

It means that your dessert might look and smell delicious, but if you fucked up the recipe, say by using salt instead of sugar, then it will taste bad. You won't know for sure until you eat it. So, a plan might look good on paper but be a disaster when implemented.

"The proof is in the pudding" doesn't mean anything.

I'm in my 70s, soooo pretty much everything I own. Sigh.

I bet it's bacon. The siren song of sizzling bacon always drags me away from vegetarianism in the end.

Photo editing and uploading, maintaining my sports club's website, video calls to family members, watching films and TV. Do word puzzles count as gaming? I do Quordle and Octordle every morning. I also have an ancient laptop running Linux; I'm trying to work myself up to switch the computer over come October.

https://www.theguardian.com/us-news/2025/jan/26/trump-resumes-sending-2000-pound-bombs-to-israel-undoing-biden-pause

Everyone has sleep paralysis every time they dream. It's a mechanism that stops you acting out your dreams. What happens occasionally is that you come out of the dream state enough to become aware of being paralysed. You're not awake, so your unconscious mind is grappling with the horror of paralysis.

My own experiences were nightmares where I was being threatened by an unseen figure, but couldn't move to escape. I had a lot of them, some really horrible. Then I read an article with the above explanation, and I haven't had one since. It was like once my unconscious knew what was going on, it stopped freaking out.

We protect it

https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Deepwater_Horizon_oil_spill

Years ago I had a job where we had a "graveyard" shift. It was a solo gig, started at 11pm and finished at 7am when the morning shift took over. You'd work it for seven days and then have seven days off. We shared the shift, so that everyone did it a few times a year. You'd think with seven days off it would be popular, but no. No-one wanted it.

I hated it. The worst part was the isolation. There were duties to carry out, but it was mainly checking things. Alone. It was difficult to sleep when I got home and it messed with my head, I felt like a zombie. I'd meet up with friends in the evening and struggle to make conversation. It took up to five days to recover. Very, very unhealthy.

More recently I worked mostly 5pm to 2am, and that was much more manageable. We were a team, and we often met up during the day for sports or a movie. It was awkward socialising with other friends though; I'd be working when they weren't.

Excellent. Carry on helping! Money makes everything awkward though, and some of the suggestions here about finding something she could do for you are great. Me, I'd knit you a pair of socks, bless your heart.

I care, little voles. I care.

Another perspective, from a woman in her 70s. It's lovely that you're being so thoughtful. But this whole thread reminds me of a train journey I made a little while ago. A young man took a seat next to an older woman, maybe in her 60s. For a hundred miles or so he told her loudly about his life - university, sports, ambitions. She got off at her station, "lovely to meet you" etc. He then phoned a friend and told them, "Yes I'm on the train, just been chatting to an old dear, keeping her company..."

All of us "old dears" in the vicinity were smirking and side-eyeing each other, it was hilarious. My point is, are you sure she's decrepit? I'd be a little taken back if someone did chores for me unbidden, however well motivated. And although I live alone, I'm not lonely. I'm not criticising your kind impulses, just warning you against being a touch patronising.

Mary Queen of Scots was 6ft tall.

https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/29159583/

Artificial sweeteners appear to change the host microbiome, lead to decreased satiety, and alter glucose homeostasis, and are associated with increased caloric consumption and weight gain.

How do you "borrow" a cigarette?