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Leonid S. is eight and a half feet tall, and he is still growing. He is 34 years old, weighs 480 pounds, and he is still growing. He can't fit in a car, wears size 26 EEEEE shoes, can pick apples eleven feet off the ground standing flat-footed, and yes, he is still growing. Michael Paterniti journeyed 9,000 miles to a tiny village in the Ukraine to learn from the world's tallest man
The story was of the variety that appears from time to time, offering a brief snapshot of the oldest/smallest/fattest person on earth, a genre in which I take a keen interest. But there was something else about this one. The giant was reported to be 33 years old, residing in a small village with no plumbing in a very poor region of the Ukraine. He lived with his mother and sister, who happened to be tiny. How he'd gotten so huge wasn't entirely known, because the giant wasn't interested in seeing doctors anymore. Something inside of him had been broken or left open, like a faucet, pulsing out hormones as if his body presumed that it still belonged to that of a proliferating pubescent boy. This apparently was the result of an operation he'd had as a child. Under the knife that saved him from a blood clot in his brain, his pituitary gland had been nicked. Now he was over eight feet tall—and still growing.
In the article, the giant was pictured sitting at his small dining-room table, reaching up to change a lightbulb at a height that a normal-size person couldn't have reached standing. Another picture captured the giant in an unguarded moment, staring in astonishment at his hand, as if he'd just picked an exotic, oversize starfish from a coral reef. Near the end of the article, he said something that killed me. He said that his happiest hours were spent in his garden because only the apples and beets don't care what size you are.
Beyond my admittedly voyeuristic interest in the facts of the giant's life—his huge hands, his constant search for clothes that fit, the way he traveled by horse and cart—that one comment brought with it the intimation of something heartbreaking and holy. It began a story: Once upon a time, there was a giant who kept growing.... And yet this was a real life. And what kind of life was it when you had to find solace among fruits and vegetables? Maybe he was an angel. Turned out of heaven, or thrown down to save the world. What other explanation could there be?
In the days and weeks after I'd read the article, the giant came back to me as I stood in the kitchen making dinner (did he use an oversize spatula?) and while bathing my kids (how did he bathe if he couldn't fit in a shower or tub?). He returned to me in the lulls, while I was brushing my teeth or driving among a trance of red taillights. Maybe I cracked an egg when he did, and maybe I didn't and just believed I had.
Fall arrived. The leaves changed. I didn't forget about the giant; no, he'd only become more insistent. He was out there, and stuck inside of me, too. Why? It made no sense, really. It was almost irresponsible. I had two great kids and a pregnant wife whom I loved, but a part of me—my old self or soul or me-ness—had been subsumed by fatherhood. I'd let it happen, of course, but then there were still moments when I found myself going a bit haywire. Having children was its own kind of proliferation. You suddenly found yourself at the center of something that was growing wildly around you. Extra hands and feet and voices getting louder, a world of sippy cups, dirty diapers, and sleepless nights stretching from here to 2020. I felt as if I were lost in a kid world, unable to form an adult sentence. Except this one:
It was time to see the giant.
I broke the idea gently to my wife, Sara, expecting the worst.
"Okay," she said calmly. In her mind, maybe she was already imagining the days she was going to cash out in return, the eighty-miles-per-hour drive with a friend to the nearest hotel that offered room service and in-house salt glows, what the Romans called quid pro quo and others call "me-time." I know that most guys spend theirs on rounds of golf or buddy weekends at a casino, but that's never quite worked for me.
So I packed a bag, said my good-byes to the children—it never hurts any less—and made a beeline for the airport. There, I strode straight up to the Northwest Airlines counter like a black-market-arms dealer and bought a ticket to Kiev. It may rank as one of the most pleasing, impulsive things I've ever done. Maybe I was already imagining a fable in which some essential truth is revealed. Or maybe I was just hoping to escape, for a moment, what I was growing into and return to who I'd been. Either way, hadn't I earned a little me-time with a Ukrainian giant?
There was only one road leading to the giant—a ribbon of battered, unlined pavement wide enough for exactly two and a half cars. Landing in Kiev, I was able to pick up a translator and a driver, whose beat-up black Audi smelled like the inside of a gas tank. Before leaving the city, we stopped and bought a cake. Somehow cake seemed like the right sort of gift for a giant, lest he confuse his hunger, as giants sometimes did in fairy tales, for a normal person like me.
We drove west toward Poland and Slovakia, through all the small villages inhabited by all the small and average-size human beings of the country. The people here—the babushkas and the hunched old men—looked as if they might have been out meandering on this same road 300 years ago. Ancient and ruddy-faced, they wore old wool hats and sat on the hard benches of their carts, driving their horses, hauling their beets to market, payloads of what looked to be purple hearts.
We followed the Teterev River, winding westward through flatlands, and knew we were close when we came upon a town called Chudnive, or "Miracle." The giant allegedly lived nearby, in Podoliantsi, a tiny backwater of 400 people, which sat on a vein of blue granite. We drifted off the highway near a rail yard, came over the tracks, which were lit by a string of indigo lights that seemed to stretch all the way to Minsk, then skirted the edge of an endless field, nally turning right on a dirt road.
There was no welcome to podoliantsi sign, just a bunch of hens running loose and the smell of woodsmoke. It was dusk, without much light left in the sky, though the sun had come down under the gloom and momentarily lit the land crosswise, throwing long, spindly shadows, catching a nearby cloud, making it glow orange over the village until the last beams of light tipped higher into space as the sun fell beneath the horizon line, like a spotlight suddenly diverted. That's when panic rose in my throat, a stifled upchuck.
What in the name of bullcrap was I doing here?
We asked directions to the giant's house from a woman at a well, drawing water, and without a word she blushed and pointed ahead to another little dirt lane. We turned and stopped before a stone one-story with a blue-painted gate. Apple trees loomed everywhere over the house. When we got out of the car, my eyes were slow to adjust to the shadows. There was mostly silence, some wind blowing quietly out across the fields rustling some faraway trees, until a hinge squeaked loudly, which caused the air to exhale from my lungs and my heart to skim seven or eight beats. I could feel a thudding reverberation emanating up into my body from the earth. Suddenly, a voice passed through the dark: It had its own special reverberation, too.
"Dobryi den," the giant said from behind the gate, among the trees. He didn't boom it out in some Fee-fi-fo-fum, he said it almost delicately, politely, so as not to startle anyone. He was behind the trees, and among them. Slowly, I could make out the low, interleaving branches and then some higher branches, with silver apples trembling there, on a level with the gutter of his stone house. And just above them, breaching, came the giant's head. It was enormous, and he ducked down to come to our level.
"Dobryi den," he said again. Good day. As if he'd been waiting. He was smiling as he undid the gate, teeth like mah-jongg tiles. He was tall. The top of my head reached only to his elbows. And he was wide. On his own, he was a walking family of four, maybe five. My hand instinctively shot out, and he hesitated, then took it. Hand in hand, mine vanished in his like a small goldfish. He seemed to measure its weight a moment, considered its smallness, then squeezed. Yes, ouch—without realizing it, trying to be gentle—very hard! His palm was too wide to clasp fingers around. Meanwhile, he was crushing certain fine bones I didn't realize I had. But I was doing what you do when you meet a real giant in a strange, faraway land: I was smiling like hell, nervously gesturing toward the cake in my other hand.
"Dobryi den," I said. And these two small words were a spell cast over everything. Holding my hand, he ceased to be a giant at all. Rather, in his world now, I became the dwarf.
His name was Leonid Stadnik. He had a thicket of chestnut-colored hair cut neatly over the ears and hazel eyes that squinted ever so slightly. His feet were shod in black leather shoes, size 26, so large that later, when I tried to lift one, I needed two hands. When he walked, he did so heavily, with knocked knees and a precipitous forward lean, his legs trying to keep pace with the momentum of his upper body. He led me into the house, ducking and squeezing through doorways as he went, doorways through which I passed with an easy foot of clearance. His head brushed the ceiling that I couldn't reach without leaping.
We entered a cluttered foyer into the kitchen, where there was a small refrigerator, a wood stove, and various religious icons on the wall, including Saint Mary and, as he put it, "Saint Jesus." Leonid took me into a little living room off the kitchen. Spanning almost its entire length stood a bed—not a normal bed but one that was at least ten feet long, extra wide, covered with a green blanket of synthetic fur and, up near the pillows, three stuffed bunnies. There were heavy rugs hung from the wall, cheaply made Orientals, and several Soviet-era wardrobes along the near wall, spilling over with unruly swatches of fabric: exceptionally long shirtsleeves or stray pant legs, the world's largest gray suit, a bright sweater with enough wool to make a half-dozen sweaters. It brought to mind parachutes and gift-wrapping the Reichstag.
He offered me a chair and sat on the bed, reclining with his back against the wall. In the light, he was good-looking and boyish. He was perfectly proportional to himself, if no one else. If his growth surge had been the result of a surgeon's errant knife, he didn't technically suffer from gigantism, which is almost always caused by tumors on the pituitary gland. And he didn't look like other giants, with their heavy foreheads, prognathic jaws, abundant body hair, joints and limbs gnarled and misshapen. Also, unlike other giants about whom I'd read, his skin wasn't coarse or oily, and he was not odoriferous in the least. I don't know that he smelled at all, because the only detectable scent was that of the house, the land, the air here—of the Ukraine—a strong, earthy, manure-laced, rotting-apple odor that suffused everything. It was the smell of agriculture, of human beings living partially submerged in the earth, in the mud and muck from which they originally came, and it wasn't at all unpleasant.
In the days leading up to my visit, I'd done some research. Being big—the kind of big that happened in the one foot of stratosphere above the seven-foot-six Yao Mings of the world and was the province of only an elite group of giants—was both physically and psychologically traumatic. Problems ranged from crippling arthritis to lost vision, severe headaches to sleep apnea, tumors to impotence. Many giants simply could not be supported by their enlarged hearts. To find one alive past 50 was a rarity; 40 was an accomplishment. And many ended up living alone, on the margins of society, their only claim to fame being their height. There were Web sites devoted to tracking these people the way stocks are tracked: Hussain Bisad, a man from Somalia, was reported to be seven feet nine inches tall. Ring Kuot, a 15-year-old Sudanese boy, was rumored to be eight feet three. And until Leonid's emergence at eight feet four inches last spring, people generally assumed that Radhouane Charbib of Tunisia, at seven feet nine, was the tallest documented man in the world. Which was fine with Leonid, because he didn't want the title. To have it meant that it was only a matter of time before his body betrayed him. It meant an early death. It might be next year, it might be ten years from now, but the clocks in the house were echoing.
We began with the easy stuff. Leonid talked about his favorite foods, which included a dish of rice and ground meat wrapped in cabbage leaves called holubtsi. "I like sweet things, too—cakes and candies," he said. "I adore ice cream, like a child. Pancakes with jam. But I'm not demanding. We grow all that we use: potatoes, cucumbers, carrots, tomatoes, pumpkins, apples, pears, grapes, plums, cherries..."
The list continued, and he cut himself short, saying it would take another fifteen minutes to name everything they cultivated in their fields and garden and then differentiate between the categories of apples and cherries, the ten kinds of grapes and squashes. "You know, when I was in Germany, I could not understand why they live so well," he said. He'd traveled to Germany last spring, and not only was it the epic event of his life, but it remained a constant point of reference. "They have very bad land," he continued, "and we have great land. We have natural resources and the Germans don't, but they have a better life."
That first night, he talked while I marveled, as one marvels in the presence of seemingly impossible creations, whether they be exalted paintings or unusual horses. He sat hugging himself, in a red-plaid shirt and heavy brown slacks. When he raised a finger to make a point, it was dramatic, huge, as if he were waving a nightstick. He had a twitch in his left eye and a way of dreamily staring into space as he spoke that suggested he saw something there or was merely trying to see something through the opacity of his life.
Every once in a while, Leonid's sister, Larisa, appeared. She was elfin, under five feet tall, and looked more like a boy than a woman in her early forties. Her only nod to femininity was a hustina, the traditional Ukrainian scarf, that she wore over her head. At one point, she ferried plates of brown bread, fish, tomatoes, teacups, vodka glasses, cheese, and cold uncooked pig fat called salo to the table, as well as an unlabeled bottle of vodka. She didn't try to communicate with us, just nodded once and disappeared again. By this time it was very dark—and cold—and Leonid said she was going out to bring in the cows, who'd been grazing somewhere at the edge of the village.
From another room came the sound of a television and the intermittent voice of Leonid's mama, Halyna. She was even shorter than Larisa, wrapped in crocheted blankets in the classic rounded, robust shape of a sixtysomething babushka, her leg heavily bandaged. The family had suffered a shock in July when, while lugging a large milk jug up the front step, she had stumbled and fallen, the jug crushing one of her legs. "Mama tried to save the milk," said Leonid.
Not owning a car—not having the money to buy one and not being able to fit in anything smaller than a microbus—Leonid and his sister had driven their horse and cart miles to visit their mother in the hospital. This is how he'd been traveling for over a decade, and how people had been traveling here since before the birth of Christ. It was an investment the family made after Leonid couldn't bear the traumas of riding the bus—where he became a target of derision—and after his weight had destroyed several bikes. "My sister stayed near the horse, and I went to see Mama in the hospital," he said. "Then we shifted, and I stayed with the horse and my sister visited Mama. That's the problem with a horse and cart: Someone always has to stay with the horse."
After her release, Leonid's mama had returned home to her bed, where she'd been for months ever since. But if there was any doubt, she was still very much in charge, barking orders, overhearing snippets of conversation, and shouting spirited rejoinders.
"Yes, Mama," Leonid called back.
"I know, Mama," he said.
"Okay, Mama."
We drank, all of us except Leonid, who claimed never to have had a drop of alcohol in his life. The vodka was very good, homemade from potatoes. I asked him how he could avoid drinking when their family made vodka this good. "It's a matter of principle. It's not that I don't drink. I do drink. Water, juice—cherry juice especially—but I don't drink alcohol. I have a motto: 'Try to do without the things that you can.' Look at me. I've been broken by my height. Probably I would become a drunk if I started drinking."
He wasn't looking at anyone when he said it, but gazed out the dark window again—at something, or nothing. If people throw off vibrations, if certain people move molecules because of their words or actions or presence, Leonid sat in the room like a herd of buffaloes about to thunder. "In my life, I've done my best to become a normal person," he said, "to reach something. But because of my unusual body, I will never have a family or wealth or a future. I'm telling you, I've done my best. Everything that depended on me, I've done."
He was silent again, but his whole disposition had suddenly changed, as if he'd been thrown down on dungeon stones. "There's a saying here in the Ukraine," he said. "God punishes the ones he loves most.'"
I returned early the next morning. Leonid didn't seem to mind my presence or my questions, he just took me on as his little-man apprentice. He had risen sometime after five, as he always did, and started by milking the cows. It was as dark outside as when I'd left him the night before—the air wrapped close around the morning bodies in cloaks of purple and black—and it was just as cold.
He put on his shoes at the door and walked across the flat granite patio of the inner yard, past two chained dogs rolling in their own feces, through the muddy passage between the small barn and the granary and the outhouse, past towering piles of stacked wood, and entered a room where LaSonya and Bunny, the cows, stood munching hay. Following him and imagining him simply as a form moving through the predawn, one could say he was, physically speaking, a true behemoth. His back was several tectonic plates; his head was more rectangular than round—his nose was a straight, emphatic line; his chin, a mesa—but he didn't give the impression of being sharp-edged, willful, or stressed by these geometries. He was just 150 percent as big as the world in which he lived, and had figured long ago that the only way to live in it at all was to remain absolutely calm—and to make himself as small and invisible as possible. Here, at home, was the only place where he was still Leonid, the boy.
He towered over those cows as they chewed cud, and though he professed that they could be unmanageable, they grew still in his presence. The evening before, he'd said that one of his loves, one of his gifts, was the way he communed with animals, the way they fell under his sway. This was evident with the cat, called Striped One, who constantly sought him out, like a persistent lover, to have his ears scratched. But when it came to the cows and horses, the animals seemed to sense that, in this one case, they were in the company of a much larger being. So they became followers.
When milking, he used only his forefinger and thumb, because that's all that fit down there, squeezing out the teats, streams of white liquid clinking in a metal bucket. He sat on a stool, which left him lowly placed, and because of his size, he had to reach down so far to the udder that he rested his head on top of the cows' haunches. I kept having an image of him, after he'd finished, hoisting the cow up over his shoulder just because he could.
Having once worked at the local collective as a vet, Leonid knew his way around a farm. He loved digging, the feel of the earth in his hands. But unlike others in the village, he was fairly well-educated, having attended a local institute, graduating with honors. And yet his height defined everything. At 15, he was closing in on seven feet, growing several inches a year. By the time he went to college, he was a full-fledged giant. He needed new clothes every four to six months, and finding them was nearly impossible. After he'd outgrown store-bought clothes, he turned to a local dressmaker. "Sometimes she was successful, and sometimes she was not," he said. His eyesight became poor, and his legs began to fail. He slipped on the ice and broke his leg. He got frostbite commuting the seven kilometers to work and finally quit his job. By then, he'd long ago let go of his friends; he'd become afraid of crowds, afraid of anyone who might point a finger and laugh.
"I don't like to look at myself from the outside," he said. "I don't like the way I walk. I don't like the way I move. When I became tall, I felt shy and separated from my friends. A friend is a person with whom you can share your happiness and unhappiness. My best and most loyal friend is my mother."
When he spoke in his deep baritone, the trivial things he said felt metaphoric: "Lilies that don't work are more beautiful than any other flower in the world. But this is controversial." Or: "I wouldn't say I like to fish, but I like to look at people who like to fish." Or: "Everything depends on pigs and how fast they grow."
After milking, he took the buckets and emptied them into large jugs and then went out to meet the milkman. It was nearly ten before he made himself some rice and ground beef and rested for a while, reading the Bible.
"Here you're so busy," said Leonid, seated on his bed again. "You work until you see the moon in the sky, and that means it's evening. When I was in Germany, there were days when we didn't have to do anything; we had no special plans. So we could not wait for the end of the day, because there was nothing we had to do and nothing to do. Here every day seems very short."
Ah, Germany. He explained how a Ukrainian expat named Volodymyr, now living in Germany, had read an article and contacted him. It turned out that the two were distant relatives, and Volodymyr invited Leonid to visit Germany, all expenses paid. He had a special bus to pick him up and then drove him all the way through the western Ukraine and Poland to southern Germany, a two-day trip. At each stop along the way, the giant of Podoliantsi emerged from the bus as a great spectacle, to the awe of people who wanted his picture, his autograph, a few words. "You're a movie star," said Volodymyr. This was somehow different from the reaction he sometimes faced at home in the Ukraine. In this case, the awe wasn't mean or intrusive; it was "cultured," as Leonid said. In one town where there was a festival that included carnival performers, he walked into a restaurant and sat down, drinking apple juice with Volodymyr. People assumed he was part of the carnival, too, and couldn't help staring.
If they were looking at him, Leonid was looking back. He shared their sense of awe, even if the source of his were the amazing little things he saw around him. "There were so many bikes in the street," he said. "And the roads! Compared to ours, there is no comparison. I had a small table in my bus where I could put my glass with tea, and in the Ukraine there was great movement and in Poland a slight movement, and when we were driving in Germany there was no movement at all!"
He wanted me to know, however, that German roads and prosperity did not make Germany a better place. "When we went to Germany, we crossed the border, and even looking around, we could see that it's another country," he said in professorial tones. "Germany is a specific country. It is a strict country. Even the color of their buildings is usually gray, brown, some pale colors." He paused seriously, marshaling the full force of his memory. Surely few from Podoliantsi had ever been to Germany, and it was clear that some relatives, and maybe some of his mother's friends, had sat rapt through these recollections before, wondering what secrets he had brought back from abroad.
"The ornaments on the wall were different," he said.
At the end of each day with Leonid, I went back to Kiev, where, for me, the ornaments on the wall were different—as were my strange, empty hotel on Vozdvyzhenska Street and the late-night drunks lurching through the shadows. I thought about Leonid and how he seemed trapped inside of something growing out of control. Not just his body but the effect his body had on the world around him. Shy and sensitive, his only defense had been to withdraw. In so many ways, he was still a child who'd missed so much of life: first love, friends, marriage, children of his own. He no longer had a profession, just a business card with a picture, one made up for him by Japanese businessmen who had come to visit, of Leonid towering over a seven-story building.
He was a full-time giant now, waiting. But for what?
I called home and spoke to my wife. I could hear the kids in the background. By being here, I hadn't escaped them at all; in that hotel room, they seemed everywhere. And yet, by not being able to touch them—wrestling around with my son, Leo, or getting power hugs from my daughter, May—I felt more lost. They were growing, changing, proliferating, and I wasn't there. I was here, halfway around the world, trying to find some glimmer of what I thought I'd lost.
Over the days, the routine with Leonid was similar: I usually brought food and gifts. I gave Leonid's mother a scented candle and she responded happily, tickled, saying, "I've smelled one of these before and will look forward to smelling it again!" Then she barked to Larisa. "Matches!"
We spent many hours in the room with the big bed off the kitchen, chatting with Leonid, who sometimes brought a plate of walnuts to the table, crushing three or four at a time in his hand, then picking bits of meat from the serving tray of his palm. It was hard to say enough about his hands, to describe their power and enormousness. He was proud of them, the one thing he was unafraid to show the world. He also knew that if he ever hit someone with them, "that person would be dead," as he succinctly put it.
Larisa came and went, harried, rosy-cheeked. She regarded us openly, without expression, like an animal. A squirrel, to be exact. Sometimes she became impatient with Leonid's loafing and stood for an extra moment glaring at him—even muttering single words like "carrots" or "cows" to signify the task at hand—while he spoke on, oblivious, staring out the window into space. "I don't always have the will to pursue my goals," he said. "I force myself to finish very dull work. But my sister, she is persistent. She never gives up. I can give up, but she can't."
So that was her role, the sister of the giant of Podoliantsi. To work twice as hard while caring for her mother and brother. And that would be the role for the rest of her life, as both of them became more and more infirm. And Leonid's role, for us at least, was to reflect on his life, to offer it like some gilded manuscript, one with missing pages, of the things he'd actually missed in life and the things that were too painful to recall. He wouldn't discuss his operation at all, for instance, even when I pressed for details. "All you ask about is trifles and some negative moments in my life," he said, almost angrily. "Ask me about something gay and something happy, though I have few moments like that."
About his height, he said it was something he couldn't comprehend when he was young. He said everything seemed normal after the operation until one day, in ninth grade, the class was measured and the two-meter tape was too short for him. After that, he became acutely aware of people laughing out loud when there wasn't a block of empty seats on the bus and, unable to stand on his legs, Leonid would squat, as if over a hole in the ground. "One in a million would have survived what I survived on that bus," he said.
But somehow he did. He kept surviving.
And if God was punishing him, God had also kept him alive. Leonid had nearly died five times. In the first year of his life, he slipped into a coma and couldn't breathe. His parents bid their last good-byes and made preparations for his burial—and he came back. When he was 12, the Lord was more emphatic, letting loose the blood clot in his brain. Leonid couldn't move his hands or legs. To alleviate the paralysis, a risky procedure was performed inside the brain. Before he was put under, he remembered being wheeled through a ward of paralyzed children and then his parents saying good-bye once more. But whatever saved him that day doomed him to be a giant forever.
Realizing his fate over time, suffering the unbearable loneliness of giants, he twice tried suicide by hanging. ("My angels were awake," he said of those two attempts. "They did not want me to die. And my skeleton would not be broken.") And then, in his cart a few years ago, being pulled by his horse Tulip, he hit a rut. The cart toppled, and all 480 pounds of him were suddenly in the air, then beneath the heavy cart. What would have killed anyone else, what would have cleanly snapped a spine or neck, did not kill him. He came up from under the cart and went chasing his horse.
God had kept him alive. That's what he believed, so that's what the truth was. And he believed he'd been kept alive for a purpose.
"Do you talk to God and ask him?" I said.
"I ask him, but He doesn't hear me," Leonid said. "The Bible says that those who cry in this world will then be happy in heaven. I'm not sure it will be like this, but I want to believe it. But secretly, I think those that suffer here will suffer in heaven, too."
"But why did God choose you for this?" I asked.
"I'm too tired to think about it," he said, finding the last bit of meat from the walnuts. "I used to think about it all the time, and now I don't want to think about it anymore. My future is only black."
Almost on cue, Larisa appeared again, muttering the word "apples." Her appearance was perfectly timed. This time Leonid smiled broadly and said, "Come," waving his hand for me to follow. "We'll go pick some." He forced himself to his feet and ducked through the first doorway, listing through the cramped house without so much as disturbing a spoon. He grabbed his coat and cap, squeezed through two more doorways, then went out into the day, which was still full of light.
leonid was a prankster—and a giggler. He had a sweet giggle, very boyish and innocent. At one point, seated on his bed, he reached into his pocket, as if suddenly remembering something important, and produced a mobile phone, which he seemed to check for missed messages. With his pointer finger, he somehow plinked out a number. To give him his privacy, the translator and I began chatting, until her phone engaged, too, and she formally excused herself to take the call. She answered, "Dobryi den," and then Leonid answered back from three feet away, in his booming baritone, "DOBRYI DEN!"
Watching the translator's surprise, his eyes became slits, his cheeks rose, and there was an enormous uplift at the corners of his mouth. His face, which was wind-chapped from so many hours in the garden, became its own planet. His ears, the shape and size of a hefty split Idaho potato, wiggled; his prodigious chin raised to reveal a patch of whiskers he'd missed while shaving; his two eyes were ponds of hazel water, suddenly lit by a downpour of sun. All the features of his face were complementary and, taken together, offered no clue that he was a giant. It's only when they were set against the rest of humanity that he became, in every way, more exaggerated ...and, well, gigantic.
And yet his happiness was such a feathery, redemptive force. He had the same smile in one of the only pictures that still existed from when he was a boy—a picture that hung in a frame over his mama's bed, of a towheaded 3-year-old with almond-shaped eyes. It had been taken on a special outing at the Kiev Zoo, one of the few times the family had been out of their village together, on a proper trip. It was sepia-toned, as if taken a century ago.
Looking up at that little-boy face in the picture and then looking at Leonid's now was like watching the arc of an entire life being drawn between two points. More than anything, the primary experience of Leonid's life had been his growing, though his primary desire had been to go back to that moment when he was simply a child again.
"I was a little guy, and now I'm a big one," Leonid said when he showed me the photograph, his mama sitting nearby, still bundled in blankets.
"He was so nice when he was small," she said, with a touch of longing. "At least he has a suit for his funeral."
So it came down to this: On the day his life was saved by doctors operating on his brain, Leonid lost the ability to determine his own fate. On that day, he became chosen, as he pointed out—but he also became powerless. No wonder he was so dedicated to the Bible, reciting certain parables to whoever would listen. Long ago, he had thrown his life over to God, with his Old Testament temper, because nothing could explain what was happening to him. God was his hands and his feet and his mah-jongg teeth.
Maybe because of my size, mere mortal that I was, I had choices. And my god wasn't his god. In fact, I wasn't sure about who my god was. Maybe he was a feeling I got sometimes, a feeling that there could be a god. Or a glimmer I occasionally saw in the trees.
God was in the apple trees and red oaks or a bend in the river that we'd come upon yesterday where leaves fell into the current and were borne to the Black Sea in gold trails. God was the cows chewing cud and Tulip the horse pulling the cart and the dogs rolling in their own shit. God was the vein of blue granite running beneath the ground here and the milk in the jugs that pinned Leonid's mama, crushing her leg.
God was that moment when Leonid went out to pick apples and I followed. He used a little stool, and I took a crude metal ladder and leaned it against the house. We levitated way up in the top boughs of the trees, and the apples thudded as they were dropped in the buckets. We were up in the trees, Leonid and I, and he began singing, in his own tongue, gently twisting fruit from each branch. His voice, that sweet song, sounded as if it came from some deep underground river.
The town of Miracle lay beyond him. Across the fields, a train sounded. God was the trees and the apples and the glowing clouds overhead. We were part of the same body, the earth as it was, as it had been created by some cosmic force. When I think of this, I still get that feeling, up there in that tree, that feeling of belonging to something sizeless.
I get that feeling of being up in the trees with Leonid, and everything that really matters, everything worth it, is up there with us, too: my children, his mama. All of our giants and dwarves. The apples are sources of warmth on that cold day, as if heated from within. To touch them was divine.
my time with leonid was coming to an end. I'd gotten fleas—or something—from my hotel bed and was itching like a possessed maniac. When I'd filled the tub to wash, cold, smelly green water had eagerly obliged. Anyway, Halloween was approaching, and I would be returning to my kids, returning to watch them grow. And I was returning to one day set them free of this giant body, our family: to eventually put them on a bus somewhere so that they might come back and tell us of the ornaments they saw out there. I realized that once I left Leonid, I was really returning for good, that my next probable meeting with the giant would come some random afternoon at my desk, when I'd stumble across a newspaper item about his death, the tallest man in the world finally subsumed by his size.
Here were the basic facts: He would die having grown to eight and a half, nine, nine and a half feet, perhaps as the tallest man that ever lived, a title he'd never wanted. He would die a virgin, without ever having had a lover. Without having close friends, for that matter. He would die without children, having made it to Germany once, but no farther. It would have been many years since he'd been able to run or swim. He might or might not have a suit to fit him when he was put in his casket and lowered by the village men, at least a dozen of them, into the earth of Podoliantsi.
Until then, he clung to his otherworld, half made of dream and half made of manure. "I have no bad thoughts about the end," he said. He ate ice cream, sucked down a dozen raw eggs at a time, chewed cold pig fat, sang, and slept with three stuffed bunnies. He fell into bitter moods, cursed his God, then contritely read his Bible. He received his pilgrims and told them the tale of his life, hugging himself, gazing out the window, while Larisa came and went, muttering words like "beets" and "melon." He wasn't an angel or a beast after all, just a man, forming his beliefs from the body he'd been given. He said good-bye among the apple trees, where he'd first said hello, crushing my hand again, turning the colors of the leaves as we drove away.
But I remember him most vividly in a moment just before leaving. I went for a little walk to see the cows. When I returned, I came upon him standing in the shadow of the apple trees, leaning against his gate, looking out from his stone house at the landscape, the red oaks on fire now, villagers using their wooden plows to turn the fields, the sun coming down just opposite him in the melancholic end of day. He had no idea I was there. He just breathed it all in. There was a presence behind his eyes—not just his enormous brain and eardrums, but him, his himness or soul or whatever. It was a moment where he just was. Contented.
He stood against the fence, and a neighbor child drifted by. The neighbors had cherubic boys and girls, blond and fresh and smiling, like he once was. Maybe, in another life, one of them would have been his own, light enough to hold up in one hand. But now, hidden in the shadows beneath the apple tree, invisible, Leonid gently said, "Dobryi den," which sent the boy skyward. He hadn't seen the giant there at all, and that was before factoring in that the voice belonged to an actual giant who happened to be his neighbor.
"Dobryi den," the boy said in a startled whisper. He looked up into the branches, gazed upon Leonid's face there, and stumbled. Then he put his head down and hurried on.
it took two days to get home. In the lounge at the airport in Munich, still itching madly, I realized that something smelled. Did anyone bathe in Germany? Yes, they did. It was me: I smelled like Podoliantsi, and I could tell people were thinking twice about sitting near me. I got up and found a terminal shower that I could use and stood in warm, clear water for nearly a half hour, washing it all away.
On the flight to Boston, I looked down on the world for all signs of life on land and sea, but from that height many of the fine details of the earth, including large houses and tankers, were simply erased. After landing at Logan, I waited in line, passed through customs, and again waited for my luggage to appear from behind rubber ribbons, trusting it would. The minute it did, I ran like a madman for the bus. I was so shot through with adrenaline, I was floating.
Soon the bus cloverleafed onto the highway. Two hours north now, to home, fitting neatly in my seat. When I saw this familiar land outside the window—fall here, too, flat land with its own forest flaring—and when I saw my wife, her stomach rounded against her sweater, and my daughter in funny pigtails there at the station, waiting, and I could finally touch them again, and when I lifted and held my little boy, Leo, in my arms again and felt my heart beating hard enough to know that I wanted to live a very long time, I took his hand up against mine, just to check, just to see what had occurred in my absence.
His hand lay in mine, and I felt its weight: the little bones and the smooth, scarless skin so soft it didn't seem real. Mine dwarfed his, but still I held his hand up and inspected his fingers for a moment. He thought I was being funny, and he laughed, a little-boy giggle. His breath smelled like cookies. Yes, his fingers were bigger, and I was not frightened. Maybe the betrayals lay out before us somewhere in our murky future. Maybe we were all growing until someday nothing would work for us anymore. But I was not frightened. I was filled with joy.
It read four o'clock on the wall—on the east coast of the United States of America—and at that very moment, somewhere, the giant was sleeping on his oversize bed. His huge shoes lay empty near the doorway, his pants thrown over the chair. His enormous suit hung in the closet, waiting.
Soon he would rise to milk the cows, feed the pigs, pick the rest of the apples. In the dirt lane before his house, carts would come and go, bearing payloads of huge purple hearts. And there he would be, the giant, alone up in the apple tree, gently picking fruit, humming the notes again.
At the bus station, my children began singing.


text: After World War II, the Allies partitioned the defeated Germany into a Soviet-occupied zone, an American-occupied zone, a British-occupied zone and a French-occupied zone. Berlin, the German capital city, was located deep in the Soviet zone, but it was also divided into four sections. In June 1948, the Russians–who wanted Berlin all for themselves–closed all highways, railroads and canals from western-occupied Germany into western-occupied Berlin. This, they believed, would make it impossible for the people who lived there to get food or any other supplies and would eventually drive Britain, France and the U.S. out of the city for good. Instead of retreating from West Berlin, however, the U.S. and its allies decided to supply their sectors of the city from the air. This effort, known as the "Berlin Airlift," lasted for more than a year and carried more than 2.3 million tons of cargo into West Berlin.

subset: commoncrawl


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LOS ANGELES � Gary Coleman suffered a seizure on the set of "The Insider" Friday and received immediate treatment from Dr. Drew Pinsky, who happened to be on set as well.
"The Insider" says on its Web site that Coleman was transported to a local hospital in stable condition.
A publicist for "The Insider" declined to say what the former child star was doing on the entertainment program and referred inquiries to the show's Web site.
Coleman walked off "The Insider" during a visit to the show earlier this month. He was being interviewed about his arrest in Utah last year on domestic violence charges when he blew up, telling the attorney questioning him to "drown herself in the ocean" before he stormed off the set.
Coleman was briefly hospitalized last month after suffering a seizure. He has had two failed kidney transplants and been plagued by various health problems.
The 42-year-old actor is best known for his stint on TV's "Diff'rent Strokes," which aired from 1978-86. Pinsky is a medical doctor and addiction specialist who stars on VH1's "Celebrity Rehab with Dr. Drew."


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Misc Clip Of The Week: Guy Goes Crazy On A Turkish TV Program! (Thinks He Can Actually Fly)
The guy is talking about his mystic powers on live Turkish tv program. He believes, he can see the future and he can fly. While the argument, he's starting to jump and scream.
Please click the "Report" button below if the video on this page is not working properly.
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Florist Designed Bouquets and Flower Delivery in Maine
For 35 years Creative Floral Designs has been designing and delivering flowers to Maine for birthdays, anniversaries, and get well gifts. Explore our many products or shop by occasion for the flowers and gifts that are just right.
From roses to tulips, lilies to daisies, flower arrangements to gift baskets, we work to bring you the very best quality any florist can offer in Maine. We will handle all of your needs from our family owned and operated facility. We also offer local floral delivery through our affiliates nationwide.
We work in conjunction with a nationwide network of preferred neighborhood florists and flower shops to ensure that your flower delivery reaches its destination fast and fresh.
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KAMIKAZE- Dietary supplement made from the revolutionary CNOP-1 ™ technology. This product is made from ingredients of the highest quality and purity possible, to help maximise your performance during workouts.CNOP-1™ - Concentrated Nitric Oxide Precursor - is characterised by its different way of conceiving and promoting nitric oxide stimulation in a stronger and longer-lasting way.To support this, an official scientific study has shown how potent its effectiveness is.This product is made from ingredients of the highest quality and purity possible, to help maximise your performance during workouts.While developing Kamikaze, the research scientists at Yamamoto® concentrated on nitric oxide mechanisms.Improving this mechanism could produce amazing benefits, in terms of both growth and recovery.Kamikaze is the pre-workout formula for anyone who wants more ... a lot more!Kamikaze is the first pre-workout that contains the new formulation.A revolutionary product in every respect, designed for anyone seeking the best scientific technologies in nutrition.Contains caffeine (200 mg/daily dose).
Ingredients: CNOP-1 [L-citrulline, creatine monohydrate, L-leucine, beta alanine, L-isoleucine, L-valine, taurine, L-tyrosine, reduced L-glutathione, caffeine anhydrous], acidity regulator: citric acid, flavourings, stabilisers: sucrose esters of fatty acids, hydroxy-propyl-methylcellulose; anticaking agent: silicon dioxide, sweeteners: sucralose, acesulfame K; colour: carotenes.
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WARNINGS: do not exceed the recommended daily dose. Food supplements should not be used as a substitute of a varied diet. A varied and balanced diet and a healthy lifestyle are important. Keep out of reach of young children. Do not use if pregnant, in children or for prolonged periods without consulting a doctor. Do not exceed a daily intake of 400 mg of caffeine from all sources. Do not use before bedtime or in the immediately preceding hours before bedtime and avoid consumption with alcohol.
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Blog — Archive 01/2015
23 January 2015
The Imitation Game: Reviewed by Mark Baldwin
In 2013, ACE Tour Director and expert on WWII military intelligence, Dr Mark Baldwin, was approached by the makers ofThe Imitation Game for the loan of a rare 4-rotor Enigma machine. Here he gives his account of his day in the studio and reviews the finished film - now nominated for eight Academy Awards.
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07 January 2015
A Lycian Coast Travelogue
A happy New Year to you from everyone at ACE Cultural Tours. We have a real treat to begin 2015. One of our travellers, Elaine Elkington, has been in touch with the office to share her wonderful travelogue from her Lycian Cruise last October – her second time joining Andrew Wilson on this tour. Elaine's vivid account of her voyage is the perfect way to start the year; so sit back and be transported from this grey January day to the sparkling Lycian coast.
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Illinois is two states when it comes to car insurance (and almost everything else): Chicago motorists pay double the rates that drivers downstate do. You can see how all Illinois cities compare in the map below -- and be sure to look at the range of state car insurance rates we saw as we compiled samples from six major carriers. The difference is hundreds of dollars a year and often more than $1,000. You can get a customized rate by entering your ZIP code and gender and selecting the age group and coverage level that best matches your situation.
Illinois Car Insurance Requirements
Average Car Insurance Rates in Illinois
Car Insurance Companies in Illinois
Illinois car insurance requirements
|Illinois state law requires the following minimum car insurance coverage:
|Minimum bodily injury liability
|Minimum property damage liability:
|Uninsured/underinsured motorist bodily injury
Carrying Illinois state minimum liability limits of 25/50/20 -- $25,000 per person and $50,000 per accident for bodily injury and $20,000 for property damage -- doesn't give you much protection if you own a home or have savings. Once your limits are reached, you can be sued in court for remaining accident costs.
Most experts say 100/300/100 offers an adequate shield for a typical family.
Uninsured motorist: Illinois also requires that you buy uninsured motorist bodily injury coverage. Underinsured motorist (UIM) coverage can be rejected in most cases. Talk to your insurer first.
If you don't have collision coverage on your vehicle, then Illinois car insurance providers are required to offer you uninsured motorist property damage (UMPD) with a maximum limit of $15,000 (subject to a $250 deductible), but you can reject it.
If you want your vehicle covered for any type of collision, just not those with an uninsured motorist, collision coverage is a much better choice than UMPD. And to have your vehicle covered for fire, theft, vandalism or damages from natural disasters, then you will also want to carry comprehensive coverage.
Comparative negligence: Illinois has adopted a modified comparative negligence stance for the recovery of auto accident damages. This means that you may recover damages only if you are less than 50 percent at fault for the damages or injuries. And the amount you recover may be reduced in proportion to the degree that you are at fault. So, if you're found to be 20 percent at fault, you can claim against the other party, but the third-party insurer may only pay 80 percent of your damages.
Reasons for cancellation: During the first 60 days of a new policy your Illinois car insurance company may cancel for almost any reason. After 60 days, there are still many reasons that the state allows your insurer to cancel or non-renew your policy. Read the full list on the Illinois Department of Insurance's website.
Points system: Illinois has a unique way in which it applies points to your driving record. While the state does have a point schedule, the Driver Services Department goes by the number of moving violations you have been convicted of. Once you reach a certain point, the Department can assign you points to determine how long your license suspension will be.
Uninsured motorist penalties for Illinois: You may have to pay $500 to $1,000 in fines and your license and registration may be suspended.
Driving without a license: In Illinois driving without a license is a "petty offense"; you will have your license suspended and must pay a fine of up to $500. If your license expired over a year ago, the penalty rises to a Class B Misdemeanor -- up to a $1500 fine and up to six months of jail time.
DUI stays on your record: DUI penalties in Illinois are harsh. A DUI stays on your record for your lifetime, with first-time offenders have their license suspended for a minimum of two years. Read our guide on DUI insurance if you've had a DUI.
Out-of-state/out-of-country drivers: Illinois law allows drivers to use an out-of-state license for 90 days before requiring an Illinois license.
No age restriction to own a car: Minors are legally allowed to buy and title a car in Illinois. Dealers and insurance companies may require a parent to buy or insure a car, however.
Electronic proof of insurance: Illinois allows drivers to show proof of insurance during a traffic stop on a smartphone. It is one of 31 states that does so.
|Company / Group
|Direct Premiums Written ($)
|Market Share (%)
|State Farm Group
|Allstate Insurance Group
|COUNTRY Financial PC Group
|Berkshire Hathaway Insurance
|Farmers Insurance Group
|Progressive Insurance Group
|Amer Family Insurance Group
|Liberty Mutual Insurance Cos
|USAA Group
|MetLife Personal Lines Group
|Source: A.M. Best market share rankings are based on direct premiums written in 2013.


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Empty units in Croydon Town Centre
08/02/2017 10:49:00......Posted by Mario Creatura
Question from Councillor Mario Creatura to Councillor Mark Watson
Could the Council please provide detail on plans for currently empty units from the junction of George Street/Church Street/High Street and North End to the junction of High Street and Scarbrook Road in the Town Centre?
In particular the following empty units:
What is the Council's policy on encouraging businesses to invest in this area of Croydon? What talks are in place to fill these empty units and when can we expect new business to appear in this section of the Town Centre?
Yates' 3-11 High Street
Managed by Nash Bond
Contracts have been exchanged with a restaurant who will take occupation shortly. The space is due to be occupied by the popular burger chain, Five Guys who obtained planning approval for the change of use class from a bar/club to a fast food restaurant in spring 2016. Five Guys are currently going through planning for their shop front.
Tiger Tiger 16 High Street
Turtle Bay is a national Caribbean restaurant chain which has taken a lease of the former Tiger Tiger premises. The restaurant is due to open on Sunday 29th January.
Banana Joe's 15 High Street
Managed by Stuart Edwards Fullermoon
The unit has been let to Stitch and Thimble who are currently letting 37 High Street.
Roxbury Nightclub 19-21 High Street
This property has been let to a retailer is who is currently fitting out the property. No further information has been disclosed.
43 High Street Managed by Jenkins Law
This property is currently under offer and is designated for D1 (non-residential institutions) use. The intended use is for a dentist who will occupy the ground and basement floors.
49-53 High Street Managed by David Menzies Associates
The property is currently under offer and is designated for A1 (shops), A2 (financial and professional services) or A3 (restaurants and cafés) use. No further information has been disclosed.
Croydon's Inward Investment team provides a dedicated, customer focused service to businesses actively seeking premises across the borough and the town centre.
The team works directly with businesses to understand their requirements as potential occupiers, and specialises in providing an efficient process-driven approach to identifying potential spaces in the borough and assisting businesses throughout the site evaluation and acquisition process.
The Inward Investment team also actively promotes the town centre and the wider borough to new investors and occupiers through direct engage as well as by working closely with external partners such as London & Partners and the Dept. for International Trade to promote Croydon to national and foreign investors and occupiers.
In order to further support new and existing businesses in Croydon, the Council offers a free-to-use job brokerage service, Croydon Works, to employers/businesses recruiting in Croydon which further encourages businesses to invest in the borough. www.croydonworks.co.uk
In addition, the Council has recently introduced a local discretionary business rate relief policy that can potentially offer support to Croydon occupiers achieving the following outcomes:
(Photo by Kake Pugh, used under Creative Commons licence)
Bus Consultation - 404 and 434
08/02/2019 14:23:00.......Posted by Ian Parker
The three Councillors covering Coulsdon Town ward have commented on the bus proposals affecting our residents.
There are a number of positives about the proposals which we welcome, particularly the introduction of a new service to Cane Hill. The proposed increase in bus frequency and links to Coulsdon are also welcome as is integration with trains at Coulsdon South and Town stations.
As much as the new service to the ever-growing Cane Hill estate is appreciated, this should not be at the expense of passengers from the Rickman Hill area who will be penalised with the proposed service alterations. This negative impact will affect particularly school children attending Woodcote High School and passengers to Purley from the Rickman Hill area. Purley provides health and leisure facilities not available in Coulsdon.
These views have been submitted as part of the consulation process.
The closing date for submissions to the consultation is 11th February. You can view the consultation document here https://consultations.tfl.gov.uk/buses/routes-404-434/Please do e-mail your thoughts to: firstname.lastname@example.com
Development at 76 Reddown Road
31/01/2019 23:11:00.......Posted by Luke Clancy
Tonight at Planning Committee I supported 110 objectors in opposing a development at 76 Reddown Road in Coulsdon Town Ward.
Here is what I said:
While local residents and councillors understand the need to increase housing across the borough we feel this is too much in this location. The massing of this large 4 storey development looms larger over its neighbours. The roofline proposed is about 2 metres higher than the surrounding properties and its footprint is approx. twice the scale of its neighbours. It will introduce a harsh blank solid brick wall to the outlook of the residents of number 78. The proposal would increase the mass and bulk compare to the existing building just a little too much in my view.
The design is also out of keeping - particularly the fenestration and balconies. The exterior building materials and appearance are not consistent with neighbouring dwellings in the location, the grey slate roof being one example. And contrary to assertions in the report, residents claim their road does have a character of its own - white render, reddish-brown brick, wood panels – and that is not reflected in the design of this proposal.
This proposal is also marked out by a lot of unattractive tarmacked parking at the front in contrast to the generally verdant nature of Reddown Road. It is important to note that even that parking provision still doesn't guarantee all residents their own car parking space on site. So there will be parking in the street. It is a likely misassumption that six parking bays will suffice for 9 flats with 19 bedrooms.
The lack of parking is a particular concern in a road that has a PTAL rating of 1b and residents dispute that parking is not already more stressed than the report assumes. The timing of the parking surveys seems to have been undertaken at times designed to suit the developer's case. Most were timed to coincide with the period 11am to noon when a lot of residents have driven off to work and any illegal parking is actively enforced against by a warden in accordance with restrictions in the road.
The survey results were also ignored when it was convenient for the developer's case. On Thursday 8 November at 4am, for example, the parking survey shows stress was shown to be actually 100%.
I think not restricting future residents applying for parking permits could lead to aggravation in the road and I would advise the committee to consider such a restriction on future residents in the interests of maintaining the status quo in the competition for parking spaces.
A better solution would be for the onsite parking provision to be mirror the number of occupants, and perhaps this could be reduced by reducing the number of flats in the building to six or seven, which is what I think had been proposed in a previous application.
The refuse arrangements are also questionable. Does the proposal of just 3 large bins adequately provide for the needs of the proposed development, when all the existing housing along the road have 3 and in many cases 4 bins already along with food waste caddy?
All in, this indicates this is an overdevelopment and that too much is being crammed onto this site.
Unfortunately the proposal was approved by a 5-4 vote with one member abstaining.
Memorial Service
28/01/2019 10:13:00.......Posted by Ian Parker
I was pleased to attend a Memorial Service at Croydon Minster in remembrance of those Croydon Scouts who gave their lives for King and Country in the Great War and since.
Movingly, 75 youth representatives from Croydon Scouting each laid a single wooden poppy cross with the name of one of the 75 former Scout members who gave their lives in the Great War.
A moving service indeed and many congratulations to the organisers.
Transport for London proposing changes to bus routes 404 and 434
17/01/2019 11:22:00.......Posted by Ian Parker
Following the development of Cane Hill, TfL have worked with Croydon Council to provide a bus service to the area, parts of which are currently more than five minutes walk from a bus route. TfL have also said they want to improve services in both the western and eastern sides of Old Coulsdon.Under the changes, route 404 would serve the Tollers Lane estate and Shirley Avenue in Old Coulsdon. It would also be extended along the current route of the 434 between Coulsdon and the Rickman Hill estate. TfL propose to introduce a Sunday service and to increase the frequency to every 30 minutes on all days.Route 434 would be extended from Coulsdon to serve Cane Hill. It would no longer serve Rickman Hill. The frequency would be increased to every 20 minutes Monday to Saturday and remain every 30 minutes on Sundays.Details of the proposals can be found online at: https://consultations.tfl.gov.uk/buses/routes-404-434/.Please do let TfL know what you think about their proposals using any of the methods shown in the link. The deadline for comments is Monday 11 February 2019.
Councillors' Street Stalls
17/01/2019 11:15:00.......Posted by Ian Parker
Our popular street stalls outside Aldi in Coulsdon continue. Residents come and discuss issues of local concern with us. The dates and times for the first half of the year are:
16th February 2pm16th March 2pm13th April 11am25th May 11am and15th June 11am
As always, if residents prefer to meet by appointment, perhaps more confidentially, this can be arranged.
Illegal discharge on Cane Hill
02/01/2019 07:32:00.......Posted by Mario Creatura
A resident recently got in touch having spotted an illegal discharge into a cattle grid at the bottom of Cane Hill Drive. They also reported that there is a constant breach of the 8:00 noise restriction as the sweeper is in full operation from 7:00am.
I've been working with the Council to get to the bottom of both these complaints.
The site manager has been contacted and as the road sweeper is vital to mitigate dust on site the Council has recommended that they clean the areas where there is no residential impact earliest in the morning before moving onto other areas later.
The manager has also been asked to investigate the 'illegal discharge' and I hope that now we're out of the Christmas period that we'll have a swift resolution to the issues.
If you spot anything like this where you live, then please do contact the Council's construction enforcement team.
Damaged parking pole
27/12/2018 13:26:00.......Posted by Mario Creatura
I've reported to the Council a damaged parking pole about 50 tards east of the Woodplace Lane Rail Bridge. It looked like it was hit by a vehicle.
The highways inspector has said they'll investigate and get it sorted as soon as possible.
If you see anything like this, then please use the Council app or contact information to report it.
Speed limit sign knocked down
24/12/2018 11:42:00.......Posted by Mario Creatura
A speed limit sign has been knocked down at the Croydon/Surrey border on Woodplace Lane, opposite the stables.
I've reported this to the Council who tell me they'll investigate and get it sorted as soon as possible.
If you see anything like this, then please use the Council app or contact information to report it.
Dust and mud on Cane Hill
19/12/2018 13:48:00.......Posted by Mario Creatura
The builders on Cane Hill are doing an excellent job, and the community is thriving. But there have been some issues with their dust mitigation measures and I've been working with the Council to get these up to scratch.
There have been clear issues with mud being tracked from the construction areas to surrounding roads and the Council has noted the lack of wheel washing facilities on the spine road which has resulted in construction dirt and debris from vehicles which is being tracked onto the main vehicle and pedestrian thorough-fares. In addition the road sweeper was not clearing the road areas effectively.
The Planning Enforcement team have contacted the site requiring the following measures to be employed:
A further site visit will be carried out to ensure these measures have been employed.
If there are continued issues regarding this matter residents should please contact the pollution team direct using the contact details below:
Tel: 020 8760 5483 9-5
Out of hours emergency 020 8726 6000 and press option 4
Email: email@example.com
Lights on Coulsdon Town footbridge repaired
18/12/2018 07:40:00.......Posted by Mario Creatura
After a lot of pushing by residents, Residents' Associations and councillors, I'm really pleased that the bridge has finally been repaired so that all the lights are now working.
With the dark mornings and evenints it's important that we all feel safe when walking around the neighbourhood, with most of the lights out of action for so many weeks that wasn't the case.
Thank you to everyone who helped to lobby to make this happen.
See older blog posts


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MIGA: Beyond "Project of the Year"
Today in Singapore, MIGA and IE Singapore co-hosted a seminar:"Managing Global Political Risks: Old Risks, New Moment."
After the welcome speech by IE's Assistant CEO Terence Seow, Michel Wormser, MIGA's Vice President and COO, delivered the keynote speech, which touched upon the current global economic turbulence, potential investment opportunities for Asian investors, the perception of risks, and what role the World Bank Group can play in facilitating private capital into productive projects. Michel noted that—while he understands that many Asian companies tend to invest in nearby countries—there are also plentiful of opportunities in Africa and Latin America.


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Call Us
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Service Questions
- Overview
The Kirby Morgan 57 Helmet with Posts is no longer in production, however, support remains available.
- Air Train - The air train diffuses incoming breathing air/gas onto the face port/lens to defog and ventilate.
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- Rapid Change Modular Communications Systems - Because the module is easily removed the helmet, repair or replacement of communications parts is quick and trouble free. It is available with either a male waterproof connector or a bare wire post connection.
- Side & Top Weights - Brings unsurpassed balance to the helmet while providing for accessory mounting areas.
- Side Block - Multi use side block has additional ports built in to provide controlled air flow, if needed.
- Silicone Oral Nasal Mask - Made of a superior silicone material which is hypo-allergenic and has a longer work life than latex.
- SuperFlow® 450 Stainless Balanced Regulator - This balanced, stainless steel, Commercial Rated™ demand regulator provides easy breathing and excellent performance with low-pressure compressors.
- Whisker Wings - Bubble deflecting Whisker wings keep bubbles further from face port and ears, improving visibility and decreasing internal noise.
- Positive-Lock™ Latch System - Developed by Kirby Morgan in 1992, consists of two sealed Positive-Lock™ pull pins which are pulled forward to release the neck collar and neck dam locking system. Even when the latches are released, the O-ring sealed neck dam maintains a positive seal and will not allow the seal to be broken until the collar actually clears the commercial diver's shoulders, thus helping to prevent any flooding of the commercial diver helmet.
- Head Cushion - Gives the commercial diver helmet a secure, well balanced feel as well as excellent thermal protection during long work periods.
- Quad-Valve™ Exhaust System - Makes the commercial diver helmet very dry with no loss of breathing performance.
- Internal Adjustable Chin Strap - The adjustable chin support, along with the adjustable neck pad on the locking collar gives the commercial diver a comfortable, secure fit.
- Adjustable Neck Pad - The commercial divers helmet attached yoke system has an adjustable neck pad which is made from a scuff resistant elastomer. In conjunction with the spring activated front neck dam ring lock, the Adjustable Neck Pad provides protection for the bottom of the Kirby Morgan® Commercial Diving Helmet 57.
The Kirby Morgan® 57 Commercial Diving Helmet has been tested and conforms to the performance requirements as set forth in Annex II of Directive 89/686/EEC and, as far as applicable, the EN 250:2000, EN 250/A1:2006 and EN 15333-1:2008 (class B). It is fully CE marked with demand regulator SuperFlow® 350 and oral nasals Part # 510-690 and Part # 510-747.
- Weight: Kirby Morgan® 57 Commercial Diving Helmet - 31.6 pounds
- Helmet Shell: Fiberglass, polyester resin, polyester gel coat, and carbon fibers
- Control Knobs: Polyurethane
- Lens: Clear polycarbonate
- Neck Dam: Neoprene. Optional latex neck dam available.
- O-Rings: Buna-N
- Head Cushion: Nylon bag filled with #4 Polyester foam
- Recommended Lubricants: All commercial diving helmets and band masks are lubricated at the factory with Christo-Lube®. Kirby Morgan recommends Christo-Lube® or Tribolube® for all gas train components. Dow Corning® 111 Silicone or equivalent may be used for commercial diving helmet and band mask components that are used with gas mixtures containing less than 50% oxygen.
- SuperFlow® 350 Performance: The SuperFlow® 350 regulator on the Kirby Morgan® Commercial Diving Helmet 57 offers high performance. The commercial diving regulator has been tested at Dive Lab at Panama City, Florida. The SuperFlow® 350 regulator meets all current U.S. Navy and European commercial diving standards.
- SuperFlow® 450 Performance: The SuperFlow® 450 regulator is another high performance regulator. The SuperFlow® 450 regulator offers performance that exceeds that of the SuperFlow 350. The SuperFlow® 450 regulator meets all current U.S. Navy and European commercial diving standards.
- Cage Code: The cage code for identifying Kirby Morgan DSI products for U.S. government purposes is 58366.
- CR Standards: These commercial diving helmets meet or exceeds all standards established by Dive Lab of Panama City, Florida, and are CR (Commercially Rated) marked.
- CE Approved: The Kirby Morgan® 57 Commercial Diving Helmet is CE Approved.
- Temperature Limitations: Use at water temperatures below 33°F (1°C) requires use of Hot Water Shroud (Part #525-100) and hot water.
Kirby Morgan 57 Commercial Diving Helmet with Posts - P/N: 500-080 Includes:
- (1) Manual KM37 & KM57 - P/N: 100-073
- (1) Logbook with Pen - P/N: 125-001
- (1) Helmet/Mask Bag - P/N: 500-901
The Kirby Morgan Hot Water Shroud (P/N: 525-100) in conjunction with hot water to the commercial diver should be used whenever commercial diving operations are conducted using HEO2 at water temperatures less than 60°F (15.56°C) for the comfort of the commercial diver. Kirby Morgan DSI further recommends that the hot water shroud be used in conjunction with hot water to the commercial diver whenever commercial diving operations are conducted using air or mixed gas, in waters colder than 36°F (2.22°C) to reduce the possibility of demand regulator icing.
Usually the greatest danger of demand regulator icing will be encountered on deck when the surrounding air temperature is less than 32°F (0°C). This effect is primarily due to the refrigeration effect of breathing air pressure reduction, and the addition of moisture from the divers exhalation coming in contact with the topside air temperature.
If diving where the water temperature is 36°F (2.22°C) or warmer but the topside air temperature is below freezing, (32°F (0°C) icing of the demand regulator is possible. To help eliminate the possibility of freezing on the surface, warm water should be run over the exterior of the demand regulator prior to water entry, if the hot water system is not used.
Only commercial diving equipment certified and tested according to EN 250/E DIN 58 642 may be used with the The Kirby Morgan® Commercial Diving Helmet 57 when conducting commercial diving operations in European EC compliant countries.
The umbilical assembly should be composed of good quality diving hose that meets industry standards. Generally, gas hose will be married to the communications wire, pneumofathometer hose, and strength member in a manner that will allow the strength member to receive all the strain. There are also good quality umbilicals available that are assembled at the factory using a twisted method which does not require marrying. Regardless of the system used, the umbilical is the commercial diver's life line and should always be of excellent quality and maintained carefully.
- Description
The Kirby Morgan 57 Helmet with Posts is no longer in production, however, support remains available.
The Kirby Morgan® 57 Commercial Diving Helmet with Posts continues the tradition of innovation by providing the highest quality and superior performance that commercial divers have come to expect in a Kirby Morgan product. This helmet features Kirby Morgan's revolutionary new Kirby Morgan SuperFlow 450™ Stainless Balanced Regulator, which is machined from a stainless steel casting for the ultimate in performance and reliability. This commercially rated regulator delivers all the breathing gas commercial divers need for the most demanding underwater work.
The Kirby Morgan® 57 also includes the Quad-Valve™ Exhaust System. It's recommended for commercial diving in biologically contaminated water, when you're properly trained and equipped, using recommended procedures. This new exhaust has exceptionally low exhalation resistance that you must experience to appreciate. Don't confuse the Kirby Morgan SuperFlow® 450 with a sport diving regulator - it's designed from the ground up strictly for commercial diving. With a rugged extra long adjustment knob and shaft, the Kirby Morgan SuperFlow® 450 meets the wide range of breathing gas pressures provided by typical low pressure surface-supplied diving compressors. Dive the Kirby Morgan® 57 once and commercial divers won't want to dive with anything else.
Warning: Before attempting any diving in any type of contaminated water, a complete commercial diving and topside course in hazardous materials emergencies should be completed. The commercial divers and the topside team must be properly trained and have the proper safety equipment. All commercial diving helmets and suits can leak water under certain conditions. Commercial divers should use extreme caution when diving in contaminated waters.
* Please reference the Accessories and Parts categories in the left hand column for all accessories and parts associated with the Kirby Morgan 57 Commercial Diving Helmet with Male Waterproof Connectors. Click on the KM57 and then the KM57 with Posts category and the Accessories and Parts categories will appear beneath it.
* For Questions on Kirby Morgan Helmet Retaining Systems, please refer to the bulletin in Attachments tab which contains more detailed information.
- Videos
Product FAQ's
What is the fitting type on the emergency valve?
The threads at the end of the emergency valve are 9/16-18. A standard scuba hose, female (9/16"-18) will attach to them.
What's included with the Kirby Morgan 57 Commercial Diving Helmet?
ATTACHMENTS(Size: 522.6 KB)(Size: 570.9 KB)Kirby Morgan Bulletin #5 of 2012 - Washer P/N 530-556 Added to Kit P/N 525-717 KM 37, 47, 57 and 17K Brackets Kit(Size: 1.3 MB)(Size: 396.5 KB)(Size: 393.2 KB)(Size: 1.2 MB)(Size: 441.3 KB)(Size: 298.9 KB)(Size: 497.7 KB)(Size: 422.2 KB)(Size: 385 KB)(Size: 241.1 KB)(Size: 293.5 KB)(Size: 296 KB)(Size: 456.9 KB)(Size: 385 KB)(Size: 235.5 KB)(Size: 271.5 KB)(Size: 357.3 KB)(Size: 451 KB)


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No other watch is engineered like the Rolex Deepsea. Waterproof to an extreme depth of 3,900 metres (12,800 feet), this new-generation divers' watch benefits from exclusive innovations developed by Rolex to exceed the most exacting demands of professional divers.
The Rolex Deepsea defines new standards of robustness, precision, functionality and reliability. In essence, the Rolex Deepsea is the ultimate Oyster: a watch that defies the elements. Its 44 mm Oyster case, reinforced with the patented Ringlock System, was designed to provide the highest degree of resistance in a size that remains wearable and practical.
It is steeped in the pioneering spirit that led Rolex to invent the Oyster and develop, in the 1950s and 1960s, iconic divers' watches like the Submariner and the Sea‑Dweller.
– Read more –


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Bucs look to improve upon 14-6 all-time series advantage against Dolphins
JOHNSON CITY, Tenn. (Feb. 26, 2014) – The ETSU women's basketball team will close out this season's home slate by welcoming a pair of teams from the River City to the ETSU/MSHA Athletics Center; beginning first with the Jacksonville Dolphins on Thursday evening at 7 p.m.
Carrying the momentum from a victory at Kennesaw State two days prior, the Bucs struggled from the jump at Mercer. Early turnovers proved costly as the Bears quickly turned them into points. Hot shooting from Mercer throughout also proved to be problematic. The duo of Shamauria Bridges (Miramar, Fla.) and Tiana Burley (Camilla, Ga.) carried ETSU's offense in the first half and continued on to score 16 of the team's 25 points in the second half. In the end, the Blue & Gold were outmatched to the tune of an 80-50 defeat. Freshman guard Bridges recorded a team and season-high 20 points, while Burley contributed 17 points and a game-high tying eight rebounds.
ETSU (8-17, 4-10) and Jacksonville (10-15, 7-7) will square off Thursday in the 21st all-time meeting between the two schools; a series that ETSU leads, 14-6. The Bucs won the last meeting with the Dolphins in Johnson City, 74-57, on Jan. 28, 2013. In the most recent matchup between the two teams earlier this season, JU came away victorious, 73-56, on Jan. 30 inside Veterans Memorial Arena.
For more on Thursday's game, read the game notes below. For more on ETSU women's basketball throughout the 2013-14 season, visit ETSUBucs.com and click on the women's hoops link.
Game Notes
The ETSU Department of Intercollegiate Athletics would like to ask both the print and broadcast media to honor our request to be called "ETSU" throughout the 2012-13 season ... East Tennessee State in first reference is acceptable, but subsequent references should be ETSU ... On TV graphics, please use ETSU ... Our nickname is the Buccaneers, but Bucs is also acceptable.
The ETSU Buccaneers enter the 2013-14 season under the guidance of first-year head coach. Brittney Ezell. A two-sport star in basketball and softball at the University of Alabama, Ezell comes to ETSU after spending three seasons as head coach at Belmont University where she compiled a 41-52 overall record. The Franklin, Tenn. native takes the reigns of a veteran-heavy team that returns nine letterwinners from an 8-18 overall 2012-13 campaign. Among the nine returnees are six players who started 10 or more games last season. Highlighted among the returnees is last year's team-leading scorer and rebounder Destiny Mitchell who led the way with 11.5 points and 8.1 rebounds per game. Supporting Mitchell are juniors Serena Clark and Cara Bowling who each averaged 9.5 points per game last season.
As a result of a leg injury suffered in the first regular season game of the season at Memphis on Nov. 8, senior forward Destiny Mitchell will miss the remainder of the 2013-14 campaign. Mitchell will undergo surgery and continue injury rehabilitation while the ETSU compliance department petitions for a medical redshirt to have the forward cleared to participate in 2014-15.
Playing without three veteran players, the short-handed ETSU Buccaneers put forth a valiant effort but eventually succumbed to JU's depth. In the first half against the Dolphins, the Bucs faced a nine-point deficit but fought back to pull within five points, 37-32, going into halftime. In the second half, ETSU really struggled to put the ball in the basket and had trouble dealing with Jacksonville's pressure defense with its limited depth. In the end, the Blue and Gold could not find enough to supplement for its lack of key players as it fell, 73-56. Serena Clark notched her seventh double-double of the season with 10 points and a career-high tying 16 rebounds.
Pressed into increased minutes due to various personnel issues, junior forward Tiana Burley carried her team to victory in a 63-60 win over Kennesaw State on Feb. 20 inside the KSU Convocation Center. Off of the bench, the Georgia native posted a dominant 25 points in 22 minutes of play. This scoring mark is a career-high for Burley, while the nine rebounds are also a season best. Two days later, Burley added 17 points in a season-high 23 minutes of play in a loss at Mercer (2/22). The post player's offensive boost will be vital for the short-handed Blue & Gold down the stretch of the season.
Junior forward Serena Clark has been strong in 2013-14, scoring in double-figures in 13 of the 25 games this season. After falling just one rebound short of a double-double in the season opener at Memphis (11/8), the native Georgian reeled off four-consecutive double-doubles for ETSU in games from Nov. 12 - 29 including a career-high 21 points and 11 rebounds in a 82-65 win against Alabama A&M (11/29). The junior's most recent double-double came in a loss at USC Upstate (2/15) where she posted 10 points and 15 rebounds. Clark has now exceeded her double-double total from last season just 25 games into the 2013-14 campaign with nine this season and is poised for more throughout the year. The forward's 9.8 points per game currently ranks among the top-25 in the A-Sun, while her 10.3 boards per game are second in the league.
Junior guard Cara Bowling is currently the leading scorer on the team with 11.6 points per game during the 2013-14 season. Presently, this point total per game ranks among the top 20 in the A-Sun while her 1.8 three-point field goal makes per game is in the top 10 in the league. The Elizabethton native posted a career-high 22 points vs. Saint Francis (Pa.) (11/24) including four makes from behind the arc. The guard did miss six games this season, from Jan. 19 – Feb.1, due to a hip injury, and returned to action on Feb. 8 against Stetson. The junior also missed games at Kennesaw State (2/20) and Mercer (2/22) due to illness.
Sophomore guard Chandler Christopher has proved to be a valuable piece for the Bucs during the 2013-14 season. After spending the entirety of the 2012-13 campaign as a seldom-used freshman walk-on, first-year head coach Brittney Ezell liked what she saw from Christopher and decided to elevate the Greeneville native from walk-on to scholarship status prior to this season. Christopher has since recorded her first-career starts in 23 of the 25 games this season and has been a vital cog for the Blue and Gold. After netting two points, five rebounds and three assists in the opener at Memphis (11/8), the guard followed with career-highs of 17 points and four assists in an also career-best 37 minutes played in ETSU's 81-72 win at Appalachian State (11/12). Christopher's performance in the Bucs' first win of the season at App State led to her being named A-Sun Player of the Week by College Sports Madness on Monday, Nov. 18. The sophomore then added another team-leading scoring performance to her résumé with 15 points in a 77-69 loss to Morehead State on Nov. 21. In her first game off of the bench this season, the guard notched her first-career double-double with 14 points and a career-best 14 rebounds in a 74-68 win versus Kennesaw State (1/23). Recently, Christopher added career-highs of 17 points and five steals vs. Stetson (2/8).
Freshman Shamauria Bridges has been a great offensive boost for the Bucs during the 2013-14 season. The rookie guard is averaging 7.7 points per game in 22 minutes of play and has demonstrated the ability to knock down shots from the perimeter. The Florida native has knocked down at least a trio of triples in six different games this season including a season-best four in a loss at Mercer (2/22). In her first career start, Bridges led the Bucs with 19 points in a 74-68 win against Kennesaw State on Jan. 23. The guard also led ETSU in scoring with 13 points in a loss vs. Florida Gulf Coast (2/6). Most recently, Bridges scored a team and season-high 20 points at Mercer (2/22).
Through 25 games during the 2013-14 season, ETSU is currently averaging 65.6 points per game which is fourth in the A-Sun. With this points per game total also comes successes in field goal percentage, where the Bucs are fifth in the league at 39 percent, and in three-point field goal percentage, where ETSU is fifth in the conference at 31 percent.
After averaging 6.7 points and 4.4 rebounds per game in 26 games and six starts in 2012-13, junior forward Maria Bond has proved to be a force in the interior during the 2013-14 campaign. The native Georgian has started 23 games this season and is currently averaging 9.8 points and 5.0 rebounds per game. Bond posted a season-high 18 points in a 75-67 win versus Indiana State (12/18) and notched her first career double-double with 15 points and a career-best 15 rebounds at USC Upstate (2/15). The junior remains a vital piece in ETSU's paint production going forward.
Since the 2002-03 season the Bucs are 111-20 when the they hit the 75-point plateau, including 80-15 since the 2006-07 season. In the early portion of the 2013-14 conference season, ETSU put up 78 to defeat Lipscomb (1/2), 78-75, to earn the 111th such victory.
The Bucs have enjoyed a lot of success since joining the A-Sun in 2005-06 … since joining the league, the Buccaneers have averaged double-digit conference wins a year, including a league-best and school record 18-2 mark in 2009-10, three Atlantic Sun Tournament titles (2008-2010), and two regular season championships (2008 and 2010) …in total, ETSU is 109-56 (.661) against conference foes since moving into the A-Sun … the Bucs have also won 89 of their last 135 games against conference foes (includes A-Sun Championship games).
The Atlantic Sun coaches picked the Bucs to finish tied with North Florida at fifth, while in the media poll ETSU was selected seventh ... the coaches picked FGCU with seven first-place votes to win the conference, while the media selected FGCU with 30 first-place votes ... the Bucs finished the 2012-13 season in eighth place.
ETSU fans wanting to receive Buccaneer news, score updates, in-game promotions and much more sent to their mobile device can do so by signing up for "Buc Updates." Click here to sign up today!


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Okay, now that we got that out of the way, I can go ahead and tell you that this is, in my humble opinion, the greatest, special-occasion carrot side dish of all time. Sweet, savory, and oh so glossy.
View the complete recipe
Hahahahaha! What a wonderful blog and chef! Like a boss!
I will start following this blog for sure!
MEAT, MEAT, for everything holy, give us MEAT man!
Ermagerd! Berben serp!
That made me drool!
Looks so yummy! My best and yummy easter wishes to you Boss Chef!
Couldn't I just drink the bourbon and steam the carrots?
The old shake-a-shake-a is makin' me dizzy!!! ;0)
Does booze quality matter?
I have some good stuff, but I'm not sure if I want to waste it on my family if they aren't going to taste the difference.
use the cheap stuff!
Chef John!
What's the rule for increasing the portion size? I'm looking at making this dish for about 10 - 12 people.
Really enjoyed this video and plan on trying to make this right now. Thank you.
Hi Chef. I noticed you used a stainless steel pan in this video, and I used a non-stick. I had trouble getting the carrots to carmelize. Can a non-stick pan cause this problem? Thanks. (They still tasted great.)
Pan shouldn't matter here!
Most non-sticks pan ain't made for high temperature. Check it out. So that might be an issue.
These turned out so delicious! I used my non-stick pan with no problems. I have a large stainless pan on my wishlist. I don't know if I can wait a whole year before making these again!!!
Chef John, what can I substitute for the bourbon. Our family doesn't drink, so I don't want to buy a whole bottle of bourbon just for this recipe. Let me know when you get the chance. Love you recipes by the way, I learned how to cook from you.
I don't know why, but I always get this huge smile on my face when I hear your voice, Chef. You make cooking look fun.
Big fan here Chef. 1 Question: Will these carrot reheat well or will the brown sugar/butter separate? Thanks for all your videos.


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Developing Your Compass Skills
Yorkshire Dales Guides
Saturday, 7 April 2018 from 10:00 to 16:00 (BST)
Event Details
Understand how to use a map and the basics of navigation but never really used a compass
before ? - then this is the day for you.
These days are designed for people who want to learn the basics of using a compass.
Using a compass to orientate the map, to take and follow bearings from the map and from the ground and to help you relocate. Planning a walk using these skills and safety on the hills. Meeting up at the
Penyghent Cafe in Horton-in-Ribblesdale and then walking in the area. Bring a packed lunch with you and walking kit appropriate for the weather on the day. Map, compass and all safety kit supplied for the day.
Further information is on our web site and you can see our cancellation and refund policy. We run our courses and events even if only one person books so you can be confident with your plans.
We can also run these days on a date to suit you if needed, just get in touch.
Minimum age normally 14 yrs
(instructor ratio: Maximum 1:6)
When & Where
Pen-y-ghent Cafe
Penyghent View
BD24 0HE Settle
United Kingdom
Saturday, 7 April 2018 from 10:00 to 16:00 (BST)
Add to my calendar
Yorkshire Dales Guides
Explore the beauty of the Dales above & below ground with us. Caving,Climbing,Navigation Skills & GPS, Three Peaks Safety Cover, Guided Walks and Team Building.
If there are no dates suitable for you or you have a group interested in an activity just get in touch.
Contact us on 01729 824455 or email firstname.lastname@example.com
MORE ON OUR WEBSITE: www.YorkshireDalesGuides.co.uk


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Amanda Kloetzli
Amanda is a senior Environmental Studies and Anthropology double major, Hispanic Studies minor from Centreville, MD. She is also Captain of the WC IHSA Hunt Seat Equestrian Team and teaches ballet and pointe for the WC Dance Club. Amanda's interest in GIS stems from the environmental applications she researched while in the Intro to GIS course, which she took in the Fall of 2011. This is her second year working in the WC GIS Lab and she is now at the Journeyman level. Some of the projects that she has worked on in the lab are the Nutrient GIS and Choptank environmental investigations, both of which involved extensive digitizing and land use/land cover classification efforts.


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With expression
35395, Children's Songbook, The Savior, This Is My Beloved Son, 76
1. Jesus entered Jordan's waters
When His work had just begun.
God the Father spoke from heaven:
"This is My Beloved Son. Hear Him!"
2. Nephites gazing into heaven
Saw their white-robed Savior come.
And they heard the Father witness:
"This is My Beloved Son. Hear Him!"
3. Joseph saw two glorious beings
Shining brighter than the sun.
God again presented Jesus:
"This is My Beloved Son. Hear Him!"
4. As I read the scriptures daily-
Words of Christ, the Holy One-
In my heart I'll hear God tell me:
"This is My Beloved Son. Hear Him!"
Words: Marvin K. Gardner, b. 1952
Music: Vanja Y. Watkins, b. 1938
© 1987 Vanja Y. Watkins and Marvin K. Gardner. Used by permission. This song may be copied for incidental, noncommercial church or home use.
Matthew 3:16-17 (JST2 Matthew 3:44-46)
3 Nephi 11:6-8
Joseph Smith-History 1:17


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June 19, 2010
It was the hottest day of the year thus far in Chicago. It was sticky humid. But it didn't matter...a good time was had by all.
A good crowd of Wabash alumni and their family and friends got together for a great lunch at Moe's on North Clark and a fun day at historic Wrigley Field.
The Cubs lost the game, 7-6, to the Angels but that didn't dampen the spirits of the Wabash group. Many mentioned the draw of historic Wrigley while at the same time buzzing about the changes happening at Wabash. Guys say they will miss baseball in Mud Hollow but everyone is excited about Wabash's new baseball stadium!
Many thanks go to Eric Schoettle '93 for setting up the entire outing. A special thanks to Eric because, well, Eric is a White Sox fan!
Photo: Derrek Lee's home run barely clears the fence...
For more photos, click here.


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Mike & Mike necesitaba un nuevo diseño de página web y lanzó un concurso de diseño en 99designs.
Un ganador ha sido elegido entre 109 diseños de 26 diseñadores freelance.
Exclusive Aircraft
We are an aircraft (private jets & helicopters) sales and charter company that would like to capitalise on web based quotes. We are currently trading from http://www.exclusivelifestyle.co.uk and are looking to create a new unique website that is specific to jet and helicopter charters and sales only.
The way we work:
Web user/ client goes to our web page and requests a quote. We are emailed and we respond accordingly. They enter take off airport destination airport , date, no of passengers, return, one way or multi stop.
The 4 main areas we concentrate on are:
Jet charter
Jets Sales
Helicopter Charter
Helicopter sales
We are interested in capturing more web traffic to increase sales.
Our primary function is to sell charter flights on Private aircraft (small jets to commercial jets) 1 passenger to 500 passengers including helicopter flights
Our secondary function is to sell aircraft (manage the sale between buyer and seller) aircraft sales, including helicopter sales.
We have had success with Google ads on the current website but looking to get a more tailored site with jets and helicopters only.
Exclusive Aircraft prides itself on 100% Safety rating, security, 24/7 service, discretion, and providing the best pricing in the market.
Specific market is to people that want to charter private jets and helicopters and for people, agents and brokers that would like to buy or sell aircraft.
We are based in Europe (London) and seek a global market.
Our target audience are the following, high net worth individuals, people who need transportation quickly, PA's booking travel for their bosses, groups going on skiing holidays, people that need to do a multi stop trip on their own schedule.
We cater to individuals and large companies alike. Our main goal is to have the person that is searching the internet looking for a quote on a private jet and convert them into a client. We are not limited to flights only in the UK and Europe, we source aircraft and clients from all over the world.
We fly out of any airport anywhere in the world.
The website front page needs to have an informative yet sleek design that entices the prospective clients to feel comfortable, safe and to make an enquiry or request a quote. We need it to look very professional, while still remaining functional. We want to be able to have the design that will allow for easy SEO (Search Engine Optimisation) We will need a menu bar that has HOME, JET CHARTER, HELICOPTER CHARTER, AIRCRAFT SALES, ABOUT US, FLEET, EMPTY LEGS, CONTACT.
A lot of the content in our website will be purely search ability and it will be full of lots of pictures and text of aircraft that we have for sale and charter and also what we do as a company, Our previous web pages are
The was a previous website we had built. It was clean and easy but now is dated and does not lend its self to SEO. It has a quote tab that rans down the right side of the page that continued on the following pages which we liked.
This is the current website we are working from, which looks good and does better on SEO but there is too much non aircraft related information on there and we want something completely fresh and aircraft specific.
We have no logo, specific fonts or colour scheme that we use so you are free to come up with anything you like. And remember the main aim is to get users to click through to quote.