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It's time for my favorite annual holiday which technically isn't an "official" day, but actually several weeks leading up to one big day. Your day may not be the same as mine. But trust me, it's the one holiday most seasoned parents look forward to more than all the others combined. It's the back to school season, and yes, I am so glad it's finally here! I've got my Mardi Gras beads on, I've hung celebratory colored lights on the bushes and trees outside my front door; and have prepared a monumental feast with all the trimmings that we'll still be talking about come Thanksgiving. All in celebration of the fact that my son goes back to school (also commonly referred to as the "I survived a summer with a teenager in the house" holiday).
One of the great things about working for The Nielsen Co., the world's largest market research company which provides measurement services for industries like media, online, mobile and consumer packaged goods, is that we conduct all types of great studies. Nielsen recently released a Back To School Forecast based on more than 110,000 UPCs in the school supply category, and more than 400 million school supply transactions at U.S. food, drug, mass merchandiser stores (including Wal-mart), dollar, club stores and online sales. We forecasted a modest increase in dollar sales on back to school items, up 1.7 percent to $2.6 billion. The forecast makes a few relevant observations including this one:
Shop now, shop early. Many prices for back to school items are up in 2010 compared to 2009. Nielsen's research shows that the lowest prices are available in July (down 55 percent) and August (down 50 percent.)
As a parent, you don't have to tell me to shop early—I'm already there! And not just for the price savings. I'm already piling up the shopping cart with spiral notebooks, #2 pencils and multi-colored index cards with visions of my couch pillows and cushions being returned to their natural plump state vs. the pitiful deflated look of someone-has-been-lying-on-me-for-12-hours-straight-playing-video-games they have been shamefully boasting for the last nine weeks.
In the forecast my colleague James Russo states, "Unlike the holiday season, many consumers view back to school shopping as required versus discretionary purchases." I totally agree! It is required that I restore harmony to my "there's nothing to do around here" home by joyfully and strategically overstuffing that $40 backpack with a rainbow of supplies: pastel pink erasers; black, blue and red ball point pens; yellow and blue highlighters (which will disappear before the end of the third week of school, but not to worry, I have already hidden the backups). The reason parents view these items as required is because, once they are in hand, we can officially mark the day we get our sanity back—and sanity is required to get us through the next nine months. How else could we handle the ongoing saga of "Have you finished your homework? What do you mean you don't have a pencil? I just bought you 10 packs of pencils three weeks ago!" See? You need sanity to come out on top of discussions like that.
The July-September "Back to School" season is important for the $7 billion office/school supply category, generating nearly 40 percent of annual dollar sales and more than 50 percent of annual unit sales. Nielsen forecasts back to school unit sales for this category to drop 5.25 percent to $1.04 billion. So even with the decline, our back to school shopping really adds up. Are you using your consumer power wisely by shopping at stores which support your schools and/or community?
Parents of school-aged children unite! Education continues to be critical to African-Americans. Be sure your child is in school on Day One and that they not only have the supplies they need to be successful students, but your support as well. No matter how harried you get, take the time to look your child in the eye and ask them each day, how their school day went. Help your child with their homework every night (even if that means calling the ex who understands math better than you). Our kids are our future. Which means your kids are my future, and vice versa. So I'm counting on you to do your part. And I'll do mine.
Now, with our school supply shopping completed and handled with care, let the holiday officially begin. Happy first day of school!
(Cheryl Pearson-McNeil is the senior vice president of Public Affairs and Government Relations for The Nielsen Co., the world's leading market research company. For more information, visit http://www.nielsenwire.com.)


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Over 30 years of excellence
Atlas Enterprises, Inc. has been in business for over 30 years serving Oklahoma and surrounding states from its Edmond, Oklahoma office, with quality products and workmanship. Our company's initial and major focus is our metal building division which includes outstanding metal building sales, service, erection, engineering services, and general contracting.
Atlas has two additional divisions which includes Atlas Home Improvements which provides the best in vinyl siding, replacement windows, Storm Doors, and the Atlas Overhead Garage Door and garage door opener services.
Atlas takes pride in completing your job on time and as agreed. You can call, email or complete the information request form under Contact Us on this website to ask questions or to request a free estimate of your project. Let us help you plan for your present and future building and home improvement needs. We are happy to provide you with a list of our completed projects upon request.

subset: commoncrawl


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Michael Seo
Latest from Michael Seo
Are You Interested Makes 2M Connections Through New Friends Of Friends Matchmaking Feature
Are You Interested has been in the online dating game since 2007, predominantly focused on the Facebook platform as a way to connect people through the internet. The company has been relatively quiet in the past year, but is now speaking up after launching a new feature in the past few weeks that connects you with friends of friends. Other online dating startups have added similar features… Read More
Acer Goes To A Whole New Level Of Crazy With The Aspire R7
Acer just announced the Aspire R7, a strange hybrid of a desktop all-in-one, laptop, and a tablet that was previously teased in some promotional Star Trek commercials. It's honestly really, really weird. We always expected that Windows 8 would lead to some really strange convertible touchscreen devices, but the Aspire R7 is a whole new kind of crazy. The first thing you'll… Read More
Evernote Partners With South Korean Messaging Giant KakaoTalk
Evernote is going after KakaoTalk's 90 million registered users by inking a partnership deal with the South Korean messaging giant that would bring Evernote integration to KakaoTalk's mobile app. Despite boasting nearly 4 million users here in the United States, chances are you've never heard of KakaoTalk. The messaging app is mostly used by Korean Americans (such as myself)… Read More
Dextr, An Android Email Client For You And Your Friends
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Take The H.E.L.M. 2.0 Is A Competition Designed To Encourage Startups To Move To NYC
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Suitey Is A Software Powered Real Estate Brokerage For New York City Apartments And Homes
At first sight, Suitey looks like nothing more than a run-of-the-mill real estate website. But while sites like Trulia and Zillow merely provide a listing of available properties from a large assortment of brokerages and owners, all the properties on Suitey are being directly offered by Suitey itself. That's because Suitey is a fully fledged real estate brokerage, and they believe… Read More
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MTA And Transit Wireless Expands Coverage To 30 NYC Underground Subway Stations
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Direction Finding for Tracking Radar Using a Simplified, Subspace Based Approach.
Dr. S. D. Hayward and Mr. A. R. Green
DERA Malvern
St Andrews Road
Malvern Worcs WR14 1SA
Email: email@example.com
Abstract Multiple coherent reflections from different parts of a radar target, or multiple reflection paths through a transmission environment can lead to errors when estimating their directions of arrival (DOA). This problem is particularly prevalent in radar tracking systems based on monopulse, a technique which compares the outputs from two conventionally for med beams to measure the target's angular offset from a known 'look' direction. These errors, commonly known as glint, arise because of the incorrect assumption that a received signal wave front emanating from a far field target will be planar and will be normal to the target's DOA. The signals from several closely spaced point reflectors within a target can combine to create singularities in the scattered field. These are small regions of space where severe destructive interference leads to signal fading and where local curvature in the wave fronts means that they are no longer normal to the target direction. Various subspace ideas have been proposed for the general resolution of multiple coherent signals using phased array receivers. Particularly relevant are MUSIC when combined with an interpolated version of spatial smoothing, and the IMP algorithm. Both methods model the target signals by a multi-dimensional subspace and attempt to resolve individual scatterers. We present a simplification of these ideas, specifically applicable to radar tracking systems, in which a subspace of very low dimensionality is used to approximate the signal from a cluster of many closely spaced scatterers. The concept of 'distance' between the signal subspace and a fixed reference subspace is used directly to measure the target position without the need for a peak search or polynomial rooting algorithm. A suitable projection based algorithm is described which is comparable in complexity to the monopulse method and this is shown to give mean DOA estimation errors which are robust against glint.
Presentation in PDF format


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Birthday is unimaginable without Birthday Cake, right? Thus here we have come up with vast catalogue of online Birthday Cakes that are sure to add that fun and joyous element into every Birthday celebration. There is vast variety of attractive and yummy cake choices such as…
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Click here to print the obituary below
In Memory of
Virginia E Allen
November 10, 1920 - April 5, 2011
Virginia Allen, 90, of Bloomington, passed away at 9:45 a.m. on Tuesday, April 5, 2011 at Heritage Manor in Normal.
She was born November 10, 1920 in Colfax, daughter of Bernie and Sara Burk Hiser. She married Charles F. Allen on February 14, 1942 in Palmyra, MO, he preceded her in death on March 11, 1991 in Normal, IL. She was also preceded in death by three sisters and two brothers.
Surviving are one son, Larry (Vicki) Allen of Towanda; one daughter, Teresa Piper of Bloomington and three grandsons, Tony Allen of Bloomington, Bob (Cristy) Allen of La Veen, AZ and Jarrod Piper of Bloomington. Also surviving are five great-granddaughters and one sister, Ramona Preston of Bloomington.
She worked at State Farm Insurance Company in Bloomington as a statistical clerk.
Virginia not only loved her family and friends, but also the outdoors and her horses.
Funeral services will be held at 2 p.m. on Friday, April 8, 2011 at East Lawn Funeral Home, where visitation will be one hour prior to services. Burial will be at East Lawn Memorial Gardens in Bloomington.
Memorials may be made to a charity of the donor's choice. Online condolences may be submitted to
Friday, April 08, 2011 | 1:00pm - 2:00pm
East Lawn Funeral Home
1102 Airport Road, Bloomington, IL 61704 | (309) 663-8842
Driving Directions
Funeral Service
Friday, April 08, 2011 | 2:00pm - 2:45pm
East Lawn Funeral Home
1102 Airport Road, Bloomington, IL 61704 | (309) 663-8842
Driving Directions


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JERUSALEM (May. 18)
Palestine Jewry was plunged into mourning today over the death in London last night of Dr. Nahum Sokolow.
Zionist leaders paid tribute to his many-sided genius at a memorial meeting held this afternoon at the Jewish Agency for Palestine. Among the speakers were Menachem M. Ussishkin, president of the Jewish National Fund, and David Ben-Gurion, chairman of the agency's Palestine Executive. Isaac Gruenbaum, of the agency executive, was scheduled to broadcast a tribute in the evening.
All Jewish national institutions were closed and the Zionist flag flew at half-staff. Every Jewish newspaper featured the account of Dr. Sokolow's death on the front page, above the story of the Jerusalem curfew.


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Free consultations at the Therapie Clinic in Newry
The non-surgical tummy tuck has arrived and is available at Therapie Clinic, Merchants Quay in Newry.
The beauty of this pioneering new treatment is that it's non-invasive, with no downtime, just expect to feel like you've done a serious work out!
Cooltec works by freezing and breaking down fat cells which are then naturally eliminated by the body. It can reduce fat by up to 40 per cent after just 1 x treatment.
Cooltec is particularly efficient at shaping and contouring the waist, giving a lean, toned, sexy curve to the body.
Suitable for use on belly fat, back fat, abdominal fat, or stubborn fat on the thighs, hips or buttocks, Cooltec is suitable for men and women.
Results can be seen in as little as 15 days after treatment and the fat cell reduction continues for another three months.
We spoke to one lady who had the treatment, Sarah Harte who said,
"I just cannot believe the results! I wouldn't consider myself to be overweight.
"I exercise and watch what I eat (to a certain extent!) but I had a roll of fat around my waist for years that I just couldn't get rid of.
"To be honest I had resigned myself to the fact that this was my body shape, until I heard about Cooltec, at Therapie Clinic".
Therapie Clinic is the leading laser hair removal and skin specialist in Northern Ireland.
Therapie Clinic believe that beauty is more than skin deep, their unique, integrated approach to health and beauty is aimed at helping you achieve a greater sense of balance and well-being for mind, body and soul.
At Therapie Clinic their objective is not only to deliver visible and measurable results but also to pamper and indulge.
The clinic uses an exclusive range of revolutionary products and treatments from internationally renowned names including Image Skincare, Dermalogica, Eve Lom and Murad.
We also offer an exclusive range of the most advanced and high-tech, non-surgical, image-enhancing treatments for both face and body, for men and women.
Whether you are looking for beautifying or therapeutic benefits, our highly-trained skin specialists and medical team will recommend the best possible treatment to suit your individual needs.
For more info or to book your free consultation call Therapie Clinic, on 04890 438397 or visit www.therapieclinic.co.uk


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Russia Orders Stalin-Era Leather Coats for Putin GuardsJune 18th, 2011
Via: AFP:
Russia's federal guard service, in charge of protecting President Dmitry Medvedev and Prime Minister Vladimir Putin, may soon sport black leather overcoats harking back to the era of Stalin's purges. The elite service known by its Russian acronym FSO has launched a tender to purchase 60 leather trenchcoats on the official site for government purchases, instantly drawing tongue-in-cheek criticism from Russian bloggers.
Long leather trenchcoats are infamously associated with uniforms of Soviet NKVD secret police, worn by its low-ranking officers at the height of Stalin's pre-war purges in the late 1930s.
The coats ordered by the FSO appear to be nearly identical to the NKVD coats, according to the tender documentation and images uploaded on the website zakupki.gov.ru last week.
Research Credit: cptmarginal
3 Responses to "Russia Orders Stalin-Era Leather Coats for Putin Guards"
Dennis Says:
June 19th, 2011 at 2:44 am
An internet search of was rather interesting.
This reminded me of an article I read a long time ago about how, during times of harsher socio-economic conditions, Western fashions required the use of larger quantities of fabric…or could there be a climatic connection there between colder climates, decreased food production, warmer clothes and more repressive regimes?
Dennis Says:
June 19th, 2011 at 11:03 am
Oh, boy…That should be "an internet search of the terms was rather interesting"
Dennis Says:
June 19th, 2011 at 11:08 am
No, I'm not a complete moron. It would seem using the characters used in maths to communicate 'greater than' and 'less than' which I've seen used similarly to quotation marks when defining search terms results in the exclusion of all characters between them when posting here.
I'll try again:
An internet search using the search terms 'fashion' and 'fascism' together was rather interesting.
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I believe this is the most I've read in a month so I'm super happy!
Sunday, November 1, 2015
2015 "Real" Book Challenge October Wrap-Up
I believe this is the most I've read in a month so I'm super happy!
6 comments:
Whoa, you read great looking books! I REALLY want to tread Air Awakens! I recently read The Lies About Truth and was pretty happy with how it turned out. I hope you liked it too. :)ReplyDeleteReplies
Haha thanks Kaitlin!! You must read Air Awakens! It's super goooood!Delete
YAY for loads of "real" books read! I don't think I read many hardcovers in Oct, one for sure, 2 or 3 at the most!ReplyDeleteReplies
You went on super fun trips so YAYY for that :D I couldn't believe I read so many 'real' books in October. It was suppose to be a busy month so I'm super happy I managed to read so much XDDelete
OOOOH! YOU READ MY SECRET TO TELL! I WANTED TO READ THAT! <3ReplyDeleteReplies
Read it!!! I very much enjoyed it :DDelete
Thank you for visiting my blog and reading my posts! I read each and every comment I get and will reply as soon as I can :)


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The James L. Stamps Theological Library, located in the Duke Academic Complex, houses the university library collections in the areas of biblical studies, theology, philosophy, church history, and ethics.
The collection currently numbers approximately 60,000 volumes, including a specialized denominational collection reflecting the rich traditions of the university's Christian heritage, and is supplemented through several consortial arrangements.
The Stamps Theological Library is an institutional member of the American Theological Library Association (ATLA) and a member of the regional Southern California Theological Library Association (SCATLA) consortium.
Collection Highlights
James L. Stamps Theological Library Blog
Intended to provide "Resources and Updates on Faith and Scholarship," the Stamps Theological Library blog includes updates on new books, survey, web and database resources, films, etc. You can view and subscribe to the blog by visiting http://stampstheologicallibrary.wordpress.com/ (link opens in a new window).
Facilities and Services
- Computer workstations (PC)
- Printers and photocopiers (Cougar Bucks only)
- APU wireless network access


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IRVING – ESPN is calling the "Duel in Dallas," but the participants don't exactly have their swords drawn.
Sunday's game is only the fifth meeting in NFL history between teams with 5-0 records or better. But it's apparently going to take more than that fact to get Patriots coach Bill Belichick excited.
"I know it's a nice story and everything," Belichick said via confence call, "but I think the story on this game is the team that plays the best on Sunday, and the preparation going into the game and the execution and how they match up with each other. I think that's really where this game is going to be won and lost, and that's where our focus is."
The Cowboys are also playing it low-key. Here's what linebacker Bradie James had to say about whether the outcome of the game would determine if the Cowboys are an elite team.
"It's still early in the season," James said. "It's not Week 13. If it was Week 13 and we were playing the Patriots and they were 12-1 and we were 11-2 or something like that, then we would know."
Quarterbacks coach Wade Wilson is back after serving a five-game suspension. That's good news for the Cowboys, but it also means the man who replaced him has to go.
Former Atlanta Falcons general manager Harold Richardson has been working on an interim basis since Wilson got suspended. Wade Phillips said it was a play Richardson designed that produced the Tony Romo-to-Patrick Crayton touchdown pass that brought the Cowboys within 24-22 against the Bills on Monday night.
"It was a play John Elway really liked when we were at Denver," said Phillips, a long-time friend of Richardson. "(Offensive coordinator) Jason Garrett called it and Tony and Crayton executed it, but it was Harold who came up with the play.
"Not many coaches get to retire undefeated, but Harold is."
Jerry Jones has been named chairman of the NFL Network Committee, which acts as the executive board of the league's year-round television service.
"My immediate and primary objective is to ensure broad distribution of the NFL Network to our millions of fans across the land," Jones said. "Today there are more options than ever before our consumers in terms of choosing a television provider. Satellite companies like DirecTV and Dish Network and telecommunication companies like Verizon and AT&T offer NFL Network on broad packages without extra costs to consumers.
"Those fans whose access to NFL Network is still being blocked by their cable provider will have both the opportunity and the incentive to switch providers if cable continues to deny customers the programming they want."


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Organization's Name: *Web Address:Twitter Handle (if applicable):Organization Information:
Primary Address Information:
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Primary Contact Information:
Secondary Contact Information:
New Member Information:
MEREDA's Annual Membership Dues:
For federal income tax purposes, dues paid to the Maine Real Estate & Development Association (MEREDA) are deductible as a business expense, not as a charitable contribution. A portion of dues, however, is not deductible as an ordinary and necessary business expense to the extent that MEREDA engages in lobbying. The non-deductible portion of dues is 30 percent. MEREDA is tax exempt under IRS Section 501(c)(6).Please select the appropriate membership level: * Membership Level 1 Membership Level 2 Membership Level 3 Membership Level 4 Membership Level 5 Membership Level 6 Membership Level 7 Annual dues will become due upon review and acceptance of your application. They are payable via check made out to "MEREDA" and mailed to 6 City Center, 3rd Floor, Portland, ME 04101, or by calling (207) 874-0801 with Visa or MasterCard information.
6 City Center, 3rd Floor | Portland, Maine 04101 | Tel: (207) 874-0801 | Fax: (207) 899-4870
www.mereda.org © 2008-2018 | Privacy Policy | Contact Us


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It's time for the monthly Carnival of Homeschooling and we're glad to be hosting this month at The Homeschool Post. Get comfy and settle in for some great homeschool reads!
Carnival of Homeschooling
My Own Mind blog is sharing encouragement for homeschool parents or those considering homeschool in her post YOU are Your Best Gizmo.
Leah of As We Walk Along the Road has shared several great posts this month:
- Learn about Artists with Great Books
- Help! I Can't Homeschool High School: Facing Your Homeschooling High School Fears
- Literature Unit Study Ideas for The Silver Chair by C.S. Lewis
Fill Your Bookshelf offers a United States Unit Study based on how the states got their names and their borders, along with a series of books that provide that information.
If you educate a 3rd-5th grader NerdFamily wants you to check out this awesome freebie of stamps and other educational resources.
Petticoat Government believes U.S. schools too often exhaust young children. Homeschool allows for more rest and play, which they need as they transition out of being toddlers. Read more about this topic from in the post Baby Tears.
Magical Mouse Schoolhouse has a few posts to share on the educational aspects of the Disney theme parks:
- 5 Phenomenal Features of Walt Disney World's Disney Springs
- Disney's Animal Kingdom: DINOSAUR
- Disneyland Park & Magic Kingdom Park: Big Thunder Mountain Railroad
Henry Cate's oldest daughter shares her thoughts about homeschooling in this post on Why Homeschool. Henry is the founder of the Carnival of Homeschooling.
- 5 Ways to Cultivate a Thankful Heart in Your Children
- 30 Thanksgiving Books to Read Together
- 20 Delicious Thanksgiving Recipes at Embracing Destiny
- DIY Thanksgiving Wreath on a Budget at Embracing Destiny — a fun craft to make with the kids!
Please include:
Title of Post(s)
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Name of Blog
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The Aging Process or Dementia?
The Solana at Cinco Ranch
Monday, November 26, 2012 from 7:00 PM to 9:00 PM (CST)
Event Details
Teepa will be in Katy! This is your chance to hear her speak. :-)
Teepa Snow is a nationally recognized educator on issues related to dementia care. She is the recipient of numerous national awards and is a highly engaging and sought after presenter at national conferences.
- Discover the common changes that occur as part of the normal aging process vs. beginning signs of dementia.
- If it is dementia, find out what you should do...is it time to make a change?
Don't miss this extremely helpful and informative seminar given by Teepa Snow!
When & Where
The Sienna Theater at The Solana at Cinco Ranch
24001 Cinco Village Center Blvd
Cinco Ranch,
Monday, November 26, 2012 from 7:00 PM to 9:00 PM (CST)
Add to my calendar
The Solana at Cinco Ranch
Katy's Premier Senior Living Community located in beautiful Cinco Ranch. The Solana at Cinco Ranch offers luxury independent living apartment homes for residents who desire a maintenence free lifestyle! As part of a continuium of care we also offer assisted living for those who need a little help with their daily activities of living. The Solana Gardens, our Memory Care Community ( opening Spring 2013) will offer specialized care for those suffering with dementia related diseases such as Alzheimers.


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I fully appreciate the severity of the economic retraction we are currently working through, in fact having written much about it myself here and on my twitter stream. Having said that, I find myself shaking my head in disbelief at the degree to which the media continues to talk down the economy in anticipation, almost hope, that it gets worse.
Case in point, today Good Morning America (I like watching in on Sunday morning) had a segment about declining consumer confidence and they interviewed a husband and wife from a single family, in the kitchen of their very nice McMansion in name-your-favorite-suburb, about their new family budget in light of their economic sentiment. The money quote was when the wife said "we're absolutely terrified!".
Tucked in the report was the fact that "the couple both work for the family auto dealership". Crikey, that's like asking a homeless person about the state of housing.
The only reason GMA featured this couple is that the producer wanted an interview subject that would present the worst possible forecast on the economy and someone who was taking truly draconian actions in light of current economic condition… yep, someone who works in a "family auto dealership" would certainly fit that bill.
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- Three in four say there's no point in saving
- Did You Have a Budget Wedding Because of the Economy?
- Consumer Confidence 'Steady'
- perhaps someone should show this to president-elect obama
- Bad Stimulus v. Good Stimulus
- Confidence in the doldrums: survey


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(Disclaimer: English is my second language, so I want to apologize in advance for there may be mistakes in the text below. If you find any, please let me know so that I can correct it. I'd really appreciate it. Thanks.)
It's been some time since I last quit reading a book before finishing it, but with The Fold, by Peter Clines, I was tempted to do so almost since the very beginning. In fact, although I technically read it until the last page, I only skimmed the last third of the novel. I've read some very positive reviews (that's what made me give it a try) and your mileage may vary, but I found this novel to be very weak in almost every regard.
The Fold is, for its better part, a SF mystery (later, it turns into something else, but it'd be kind of spoilerish to tell into what), a subgenre that I'm not very fond of but that I can enjoy now and then (for instance, I did like Superposition quite a lot earlier this year). In fact, the plot of the novel, although very conventional, is not especially bad. The mystery is (sometimes) intriguing and the twist is at least coherent with some of the earlier revelations.
The main problem with The Fold, then, is not its plot, but its writing. The dialog is supposed to be smart and witty, but falls short all the time. The jokes are lame (if you are not rolling your eyes the first time someone replies "Not now" to "Fuck me" I think by the tenth you will be) as in, for instance, something like:
Bob smiled.
"What else do you name a chimpanzee that changes the world?"
The characterization is not much better. The main protagonist is completely unbelievable, with his photographic memory and his out-of-the-chart intelligence. He is supposed to be kind of a modern Sherlock Holmes (although he works as an English High School teacher), but with the exception of a couple of tricks that the author adds just to make his case, his deductive powers do not seem to accomplish much. The secondary characters, in turn, are clichéd and one-dimensional (which is kind of ironic in a novel about interdimensional doors), including the obsessed scientist and the girl that falls for the protagonist just because.
The novel is also full of small inconsistencies, little details that are mostly not that important to the plot, but that constantly annoyed me. What is more, the depiction of the work of the scientists is so inaccurate (especially in the case of the computer programmer) that it would be funny if it were not an important part of the plot.
All in all, I can only recommend skipping The Fold. The writing is poor, the plot is unoriginal and implausible and the characters lack any depth. I was tempted to suggest that it might be passable as a beach read, but I did actually try reading part of the book at the beach and it didn't get any better. If you feel like reading a good SF mystery, I'll give Superposition, by David Walton, a try instead.
(You can also read this review in Spanish/También puedes leer esta reseña en español)


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We have noticed that a lot of organizations have little to offer in return for your hard-earned donations. So, we have decided to offer our collective resources in return. We want you to have access to a resource you can actually use, one that will actually help you in one way or another. But, keep in mind, because we are a 501(c)3 organization, your donations are now tax-deductible.
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It does add up if you read the article. The virus survives in humidity levels below 50% and above 98% since 98% simulates the human body. It doesn't fair as well at humidity levels between 60-80%.
In winter, people make little to no vitamin D: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vitamin_D_and_influenza [wikipedia.org]
Even in places near the equator, if people stay indoors to avoid rain, they will have lower vitamin D levels, unless they supplement.
Relative humidity. The ability of air to absorb water goes up with its temperature. So, for a fixed amount of moisture in a quantity of air, when you heat it, its capacity to absorb more goes up.
The trouble with computers is that they do what you tell them, not what you want. -- D. Cohen


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The goal of the On the Same Page program is to generate discussion--and sometimes action--around a common theme. Towards that goal we endeavor each year to choose a work that is engaging to students and faculty members from a wide array of backgrounds and tastes. We also want it to be a work that signals something about our values, and the kinds of complex thinking that students can expect to encounter in college. Finally, because we feature the author in a keynote event in the fall, the work must be by a living author.
Working with all these criteria, a team of faculty members spent the spring and summer of 2016 reading widely, in a quest to come up with the best possible titles for the 2017 program. They selected four works, each of which would have formed the basis for an exciting and thought-provoking On the Same Page program in the fall of 2017. We then made copies of all four works available to over twenty volunteer student reviewers, recruited specifically because their roles bring them into contact with a wide variety of other undergraduates: they are RAs in the residence halls, orientation leaders, ASUC officers, Public Service Center participants and the like. Sixteen of these students submitted scores and written comments on one or more of the works over the fall 2016 term, during which the five Letters & Science deans were also reading all four finalist texts. At the end of the fall the deans took all of the faculty and student responses into account when making the final decision.
The various faculty and student reviewers voiced an array of reasons for speaking in favor of Hamilton. Dean Jacobsen's reasons are summarized in a short piece he wrote, which also appears on the On the Same Page landing page:
"Our On the Same Page selection this year is the cast album for Lin-Manuel Miranda's musical version of the story of Alexander Hamilton, whose contributions still echo today in government, business, and even in how news is reported. It's told through the eyes of people experiencing the American Revolution as they try to shape it to their own desires from their own perspectives. Besides giving a new spin to history, the musical brings forward questions of enduring importance: the role of individuals in bringing about social and political change; equality and opportunity in a land shaped by immigrants; the importance of family versus accomplishment; and basic questions about American democracy. The musical itself has shaped political and artistic discussions about what musical theater looks like in the 21st century. Who ever thought we'd see an Oakland rapper playing Thomas Jefferson on Broadway? Or a George Washington who is not white? Why didn't we expect rap as show tunes? Please join us in listening to the show, and watch and read some of the additional materials that appear on the On the Same Page web site, as we explore this deep work and its context together."
Here are some representative quotations from student reviewers:
"It's very entertaining, and I believe would be enjoyed by almost anyone. It's easy to follow, especially if you read the lyrics along with listening to it, and there isn't a single lazy line in the whole thing. I believe that anyone could connect to Hamilton, whatever their background, race, gender, nationality, class, etc. It's clever, engaging, funny, catchy, and heartbreaking."
"The whole point of the musical is that immigrants/flawed people are the cornerstone and the inventors of our democracy, a message that's increasingly important in the current political state of our country."
"It's just such an amazing musical. You can listen to it ten times and pick up on new subtleties every time."
"It's an extraordinary story, told through the lens of flawed, real people, who seek to make a positive difference in the world. More than that, it's our country's genesis, spun in a way that makes our history become alive. I connect so much with the hunger and the inner fire of Alexander Hamilton and with the reserved nature of Aaron Burr, the quiet devotion of Eliza, the spirit of Angelica (in understanding her duty, resenting the oppression of gender norms, and still being oh so powerful in her femininity). The musical connects history with present-day, making it so relevant."


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What does one-fourth mean?
Definitions for one-fourth
Here are all the possible meanings and translations of the word one-fourth.
Princeton's WordNet
one-fourth, fourth, one-quarter, quarter, fourth part, twenty-five percent, quartern(noun)
one of four equal parts
"a quarter of a pound"
Chaldean Numerology
The numerical value of one-fourth in Chaldean Numerology is: 4
Pythagorean Numerology
The numerical value of one-fourth in Pythagorean Numerology is: 5
Sample Sentences & Example Usage
Good teaching is one-fourth preparation and three-fourths theater.
Good teaching is one-fourth preparation and three-fourths pure theatre.
Statistics show that we lose more fools on this day than on all other days of the year put together. This proves, by the numbers left in stock, that one Fourth of July per year is now inadequate, the country has grown so.
But they couldn't get it built. You know one of the reasons they couldn't build it? The environmental impact statements. They couldn't get through because of the environment. Well, that's what I'm the king of -- I can get things built for half-cost, for one-fourth cost, and it'll be better.
She (India) has left indelible imprints on one fourth of the human race in the course of a long succession of centuries. She has the right to reclaim... her place amongst the great nations summarizing and symbolizing the spirit of humanity. From Persia to the Chinese sea, from the icy regions of Siberia to Islands of Java and Borneo, India has propagated her beliefs, her tales, and her civilization.
Images & Illustrations of one-fourth
Translations for one-fourth
From our Multilingual Translation Dictionary
- एक चौथाईHindi
- seperempatIndonesian
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The Eternal Face of the NFL Proves Himself Again
February 28, 2013 Leave a Comment
This guy is the definition of a true legend. An amazing human being. A leader. A role model. A champion. The list goes on and on, and he is the obvious face of the NFL. If the NFL were to ever change the name of the Super Bowl trophy, his name would be the best fit.
Yea that's right, 4 time MVP, Peyton Manning. He holds so many awards and records on the field, but most people aren't aware of what he does off the field.
In the past, he established the Peyback Foundation to help disadvantaged children in Louisiana, Tennessee, and Indiana. The St. Vincent Hospital in Indianapolis renamed its children's hospital to "Peyton Manning Children's Hospital at St. Vincent".
Today, Peyton Manning is on a USO tour in Europe, visiting our troops serving overseas.
Manning is part of a group of athletes, coaches and musicians on tour with Vice Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff Adm. James Winnefeld. He traveled with Colts coach Christensen and Colts WR Austin Collie to the Walter Reed Bethesda MATC which is a foundation for our wounded warriors.
The only bad things you can say about the guy is that he has a bad playoff record and he abuses kids on SNL.


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Sometimes a blog post needs to percolate in my head for a while. This one started out as a vaguely apologetic examination of why I've gotten out of the habit of wearing makeup lately, but the more the idea fermented, the less apologetic I was feeling. In fact, I'm feeling rather defiant about the whole issue now, perhaps in part thanks to an article I read on Jezebel called Please don't tell me that I look better without make-up. It's not so much that I disagree with the author, or that I have some moral opposition to makeup and those who wear it – I am just over feeling apologetic about my choice to not to wear it.
For me, this is about overcoming insecurity and the ridiculous notion that I must wear makeup or else appear like I was "letting myself go" or the idea that women of (ahem) a certain age need makeup to make up for the loss of dewy youthfulness. It's the idea of makeup being mandatory that irks me – that you would feel like you couldn't leave the house without it, or that going around without makeup is like going around in a stained shirt and torn trackpants.
If you wear makeup and love it, great! I'm glad it works for you. It has never worked for me, though. I wore makeup for years because I felt like I had to, because I was supposed to, because I wasn't attractive enough without it. Except I was never particularly good at applying it, so I never felt terrific when I was wearing it, either – I felt self-conscious either way, but I was self-conscious AND uncomfortable when I was wearing makeup. Up until recently, I felt obligated to wear makeup to the office in the same way I'd wear work-appropriate clothes. Except I love dressing up in my work clothes, and I just felt hassled by remembering to put on makeup.
Now that I've more or less given it up entirely, I'm feeling rather liberated. Here's five reasons why I'm happy that I finally got over the idea that I was obligated to wear makeup:
1. It's expensive. I learned young that you pretty much get what you pay for with cosmetics, and when I did wear makeup I was a sucker for the higher-end brands. It's especially expensive if you follow the recommended guidelines and replace it every few months but you only ever apply it often enough to use 1/10 of the container. I can't tell you how many mostly-full eyeshadows and mascaras I pitched because I couldn't remember how many years old they were.
2. It's a hassle. You have to remember to put it on, and you have to remember to take it off again. Getting eye-makeup off is an even bigger PITA than getting it on properly. And you have to remember not to rub your eyes, or cry, or lick your lips. And you have to carry a patch kit, and have spare makeup stashed in your desk or purse for the days you forget to put it on before you leave the house. And it doesn't stay on your face – you get foundation on your pillow cases and lipstick on your coffee mug. Ick.
3. It's unhealthy – or, at least, my skin is healthier without it. "U.S. researchers identified 10,500 industrial chemicals used as cosmetic ingredients, including carcinogens, pesticides, reproductive toxics, endocrine disruptors, plasticizers, degreasers and surfactants," according to the David Suzuki foundation. Sure there are toxin-free alternatives out there, but they're usually even more expensive. And sure, there are chemicals in my shampoo and moisturizer and everything else I touch all day long, but if I'm eliminating one more source of toxins, so much the better, right?
4. It changes the way you look. I know, duh, that's the point, right? But I don't like the idea that how you see me is through a layer of paint. I don't like the fact that if I wear makeup nine days out of ten on that tenth day you see me and say, "Wow, she looks like shit today" because I'm not wearing my war paint.
5. It's a self-perpetuating tyranny. This is linked to the previous point. The more often you wear makeup, the more you feel obligated to wear it and the more like you don't feel like yourself if you aren't wearing it. You-in-makeup becomes baseline you, so you without makeup is somehow not as good.
This is me, unvarnished. No make-up – and no Instagram filter, either. (Not even with the white balance and exposure adjusted, which is way harder for me than not wearing makeup.)
Ha, it is so much harder to take and post a photo like this than to leave the house without makeup! Eek! But I have to admit, unlike the author of the Jezebel article, I DO feel like I look better without makeup — and I'm more than happy to hear you tell me so! 😉
So what do you think? Why do we feel apologetic about NOT wearing makeup? Do you feel makeup because you love it, because you feel like you have to, or you don't bother? Is it about being pretty, or your sense of self? Does it bother you to leave the house without fixing your face first?
What say ye, bloggy peeps?
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- Flashback faves: Is this my life? In honour of the blog's tenth birthday this month, I'm revisiting a handful of favourites from my archives. I think this post from 2005, which I refer to as "my epic wail," was a seminal moment for me in a lot of ways. Years later, people still mention it to...
- An ode to two t-shirts They came from the clearance rack at the Gap. It's really rather astonishing what a large percentage of my clothes come from there. I'm sure I didn't pay more than $6 each for them – just plain old cotton t-shirts, one in a nice cool magenta, and one in utilitarian...
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- Ruminations on a drive, a decision and a transformation 20 years ago this week We drove down to London to visit my family a few weeks ago. It was a grey, blustery November sort of weekend, and while the boys were plugged in to their various devices to pass the time, I had some quiet time in my head to reflect on another long...


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Remember the old woman who lived in a shoe? I don't judge her nearly as harshly as I used to, now that I have a husband and six children. In our 100-year-old farmhouse, we have broth, bread, and lots of Smucker personalities, and this blog is about our lives.
Thursday, July 31, 2008
I got to Chicago ok today knowing I'd have to wait 3 hours before going on to Charlotte, North Carolina. Ok fine. Bought expensive food, worked on computer. (Note: you all need to fly to Portland sometime and experience buying food in restaurants/fast food places for the same price that they charge in their non-airport facilities.)
O'Hare is a dirty, humid, busy airport. At one place there were these big tall white columns like airports have, but the top half of them was taken away for some reason, revealing that they were actually just white decorative tubes around a bunch of pipes and wires. . .and these pipes and wires looked rusty, crusty, caked with awful things, and downright dangerous, like they were going to crumble away any minute now.
Meanwhile in the restrooms they had these cool new inventions, the only redeeming factor at O'Hare--there was this tube of clear plastic around the U of the toilet seat. You wave your hand in front of the little green light, and ZZEEEEEEP! the germy tube gets sucked into one end of the U while pulling behind it a clean section. But trust me, don't go to O'Hare just to see this, because the toilet flushes on its own with great ferocity every thirty seconds as well, a frightening experience.
Oh yeah, my schedule and stuff. So there were thunderstorms around the Midwest and more and more flights were being delayed. And after two delays they said our flight to Charlotte was cancelled. What a sick feeling.
Everyone else scampered to the desks to change their tickets and I followed with a heavy heart, meanwhile calling Paul and Amy to pray for me. And of all the miraculous answers, the airline lady was able to send me on a flight to Greenville, and Greenville is way closer to Amy than Charlotte anyway, and Amy was already in Greenville with her friend Esther. And then it was a small plane, three seats wide, my favorite, so I was a happy traveller again.
So Amy the dear daughter picked me up (but not my suitcase because it got sent to Charlotte )and we talked with great speed all the way to Due West and Erskine College where the convention is, and I have completely fallen in love with this campus. It's like something out of Anne of Green Gables going to Queens. We're staying in the women's dorms, a 3 story white brick building with a large porch on the front with southern rocking chairs here and there, and inside are high ceilings and tall windows and elegant furniture and a parlor and a sitting room and two wide white open staircases turning upward, and you can just see Gilbert nervously waiting on one of the elegant settees while the matron watches with an eagle eye and Anne comes dreamily down the stairs in her new taffeta gown and he gives her a box with flowers and she pins them on and they walk across the Quad to the cotillion.
Yes, well. This is what's actually on my mind: I took Emily in for a blood draw a couple of weeks ago to be re-tested for food allergies like she was 6 years ago, and found out mere hours before I left that they couldn't do the test because her white blood cells were dying off way faster than white blood cells ought to die off.
Now does that sound ominous or what?
I managed to get hold of the doctor before I left, and he tried to keep me from freaking out, but said yes it's cause for concern and we need to look into it a lot further.
Best case: someone made a mistake with the blood draw. Worst case: some horrible form of leukemia or a blood disorder. In between: something to do with West Nile. Something fixable that will restore her to good health. Who knows, maybe she'll be the textbook case, helping the medical world discover the link between WNF and idiolymphocyticatrophy. (I made up that word).
So today I was on the plane and the woman next to me was a wise and Godly grandmother whose son is dying of cancer. So I told her about Emily because I knew she'd understand. And she re-affirmed that prayer is the key to all of us getting through this and was so nice and just what I needed that of course I started crying, which is what I do whenever someone truly empathizes.
Speaking of which, a number of very kind and well-meaning people have hinted/suggested/implied/insisted that Emily's health issues are due to emotional/spiritual issues. And if she would talk more about things/quit reading fairy tales/confess hidden sins/expose some unknown past abuse/get counselling/get treated for anxiety then she would get better.
I find this very difficult, for two reasons: 1) I am easily intimidated, and 2) all of my instincts as a mom tell me she has something specific wrong with her physically, and while I know she has plenty of character issues to work on, none of these conjectures resonate with my spirit as being true.
I am not saying she doesn't have emotional issues. But goodness, who of us doesn't at 17 or 18. And we don't go around analysing Emily's friends her age and getting them to probe as deep as they can to see if there isn't maybe something down there, do we? Even if they listen to bad music or flirt shamelessly or seem sad and withdrawn, somehow we let them grow up and deal with things on their own timetable, because they're healthy.
Ok, I'm annoyed and frustrated and tired, did you guess? And worried.
I also think we American Mennonites don't have a box for anything vague and chronic. Cancer we can handle, or a broken leg. But bring on slow fevers and fatigue and we start analysing and conjecturing and implying and blaming.
I would love to be vindicated by a specific diagnosis that would explain everything. But I would way rather just have her get well, vindication or no. And if I'm wrong and it's emotionally based, I'd happily be proved wrong if it made her well.
Meanwhile, I cling to my sister's words: "Dorcas, trust your instincts. Fight for your daughter. As a mom, you know if there's something wrong. Don't give up."
Quote of the Day:
"Just go on your trip and don't worry. You can pray, but don't worry."
--Dr. Hansen
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Ben is 15
Emily made this place setting, crown, etc, for "King Ben."
Ben chose root beer floats instead of cake and ice cream. Here he is with his gifts including a dangerous-looking can of Silly String.
Quote of the Day:
Me (measuring carefully): I think you're. . .hmmm. . .about 5 feet 7 1/2 or 5-7 3/4.
Ben: Let's just say 5-8.
Monday, July 28, 2008
Help me out
My speech is 95% done so I'm not worried about that.
And I've planned our route and have it all printed off Microsoft Streets and Trips.
And most of my clothes are packed.
Now I just need to make copious lists and menus so when I come home the garden is still alive and the potted plants aren't brittle and brown and the animals aren't hungry or thirsty and neither are the people and the younger ones remember to go to Vacation Bible School.
And I have one more big assignment to finish: my column for August. But first I have to decide what to write about.
a) harvest, and having a houseful of seedsackers on rotating schedules, and dumping grass seed from jeans pockets, and having little shoots of ryegrass growing out from under the bathroom baseboards next winter
b) my three big hairy dogs. . . or is it my three big teenage boys with mischief and big feet. . .or is it two boys and one dog who eat everything in sight. . . or should it just be The Story Of How Hansie Came To Be Chewing On Birthday Candles Early One Morning
c) my two universes and how odd it feels to step back and forth between the two. Universe A: muddy garden sandals, trying to talk to young people who keep interrupting, noise and dirt and dishes, "Wow, Mom, you have a lot of gray hair!" Universe B: shoes with heels that click, speaking to tasteful ladies who listen with rapt attention, quiet voices and decorated tables and coffee brought to me, "Ooooooh, you look far too young to have six children!"
Ok, I can't think what the redeeming point would be for any of those, so if any of you fine and supportive readers have tips for me, or ways to extract a point from any of the above, or completely different ideas, please comment.
Quote of the Day:
"We have a hippie group here. 5 of us."
--"Barbara" at the library table at the Leaburg Festival, talking about the volunteers who have had hip replacement surgery
Thursday, July 24, 2008
Mormon/Menno novels
The story was pure fluff--college student goes to stay with old aunt who is determined to match her up with cute doctor, she is equally determined not to get matched up with cute doctor, yada yada.
What I found most interesting was the way the Mormon practices and terms were casually woven in with no explanation for tourists like me--ward suppers, high priests, sacraments, home teachers, and so on.
I didn't catch any whiffs of proselytizing, no conversions carefully or clumsily constructed to show me how it's done. The only obvious plug was the doctor telling the pregnant girl exactly which 800 number to call for support.
As I recall, Clara Bernice Miller decided to write Katie with this same taken-for-granted attitude toward the Amish, with no sidebars explaining covering strings and dates after the singing. I think I like that. So when my Mennonite novel comes out, roughly in 15 years judging from how fast it's coming together, don't expect belabored explanations of acapella singing, head coverings, CLP Sunday school quarterlies, the church covenant, and canoeing or hiking in skirts.
Quote of the Day:
"I can't wait til Friday."
--Zack the longsuffering nephew, listening to Emily and Jenny talking in weird accents. Zack goes home for the weekends, you see.
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
Cold Facts
At 10:00 that night in Kenora the temperature was -15.88 degrees Fahrenheit and the wind chill was -38.2.
In Sioux Lookout the temperature was -13.9 F and the wind chill was -32.8.
So Paul obviously was closer to the technical mark but any way you look at it, it was cold.
And I think it's cool how you can look up stuff like this on the internet.
My friend Ilva suggested I tell about how we went back to the accident site four years later. We were living in Oregon then and visited our old haunts on a long road trip. As we headed up that same isolated road on a summer evening we tried to look for landmarks to figure out just where the van had been. Finally Paul thought he had found the spot and we got out and looked around. And there in the grass we found charred coins that had come from my purse and a blackened key chain with the faint "I (heart) Paul" still visible. So with our very alive and healthy children we held hands and thanked God for sparing our lives at that place.
Three years later we went up there again and on that same road we saw, but didn't hit, 11 moose, one of them standing majestically in the middle of the road not far from our accident site. It all gave us a strange feeling that that dark, cold night we had been part of a bigger story going on, perhaps caught in the crossfire of a battle in the heavenlies, that we only saw the immediate, visible results of, and what was meant to happen, happened, and what wasn't meant to, did not.
The story of the key chain was that after Paul and I had started dating and I had very mixed emotions about it all, my wise friend Marilyn bought me this key chain that stated blatantly that I loved Paul. Shocking. My blunt friend Mary said, Well, is it true? And I said, "I don't know." After a while, though, I did know. And I was happy to find that key chain again.
Quote of the Day:
I started getting excited when I saw the ketchup!"
--Ben, telling me how he came home from work and first realized we were having hot dogs for lunch, as opposed to something boring like roast beef and potatoes.
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
While We're At It: The Official Van & Moose Story. . .
We notice here that I am posting a lot, a sure sign that I have three major deadlines in 9 days: a column to write, a speech to prepare, and a trip to leave on. It's so much easier to get inspired to blog-post when there are enormously more important things to work on.
Yesterday was an ordinary day. I brushed and braided my daughters' hair and drove the children to school, then stopped in to visit an elderly friend. After school, Amy, our 12-year-old, checked out an 18-inch stack of books from the library in Harrisburg. Second-grader Ben emptied the mousetraps and earned a quarter toward his next Lego set. Paul, my husband, figured out his taxes. Jenny, our busy toddler, unrolled 6 yards of toilet paper and dumped Cheerios on the floor. I helped 10-year-old Emily with her homework and wondered if she will ever quit making her a's look like o's. Matt, the tall teenager, poked me in the ribs to hear me shriek. That night, I snuggled next to my sleeping husband and listened to an owl hooting across the creek.
And I kept a promise I made seven years ago.
We lived in Canada then, near a Mennonite-run camp for Native American children and families, a hundred miles north of the Minnesota/Ontario border. With our four young children, we had traveled to Oregon for Christmas. On this particular night, January 16, 1994, we were on our way home and had only 25 miles to go. We were all tired of traveling and eager to get home after our 4000-mile journey. Behind our van, we pulled the trailer that was to carry our belongings when we moved back to Oregon the following summer.
It was 10:30 at night and bitterly cold, probably 20 degrees below zero, with a light snow falling. The isolation of this hundred-mile stretch of road was unnerving enough in broad daylight, but at night it was almost hauntingly empty. We passed a gas station at the forty-mile mark; otherwise there was nothing but rocks, lakes, and trees. The last vehicle we had seen was a car we met just after we crossed the border almost two hours before.
Paul was driving, and the children slept. We felt safe and cozy, close together in the warm van, pushing a round ball of light ahead of us through the darkness and the falling snow, mile after mile.
I saw it first, a shape appearing out of the darkness. A young bull moose trotted down the middle of the road ahead of us, hemmed in by guard rails on both sides. Paul stepped on the brakes and the van slipped and swerved on the snowy road. But we were unable to stop and we hit the moose with a gentle thump, like bumping your grocery cart into the one ahead of you at Safeway.
The van lurched and slid but stayed on the road. Paul eased the van on down the road a few hundred yards, where the guardrail ended and he could pull off the road. We checked to make sure everyone was ok, and Paul got out to inspect the van.
"It's not damaged that badly," he said when he came inside. "We hit it by the headlight, and the fan might be pushed in a little bit, but I'm going to leave the engine running to keep it warm in here. I think I'll go back and make sure that moose is off the road. Watch this gauge here, and if it starts to get hot, turn the engine off." He pulled on his fur hat and mitts, and left.
I sat in the driver's seat to watch the gauge, feeling calm and unafraid. Paul would soon be back and he would get us all home safely. After a while, I smelled something hot, just a whiff. I checked the gauge; it was fine. "I'm going to look in the engine," I told the children, who were now awake.
When I peered under the hood, nothing seemed abnormal. I walked on around to the passenger-side door of the van, opened it, and froze in shock and horror as I saw little flames shooting out of the dashboard. I couldn't think or move. Then, like a slide coming into focus on a screen, I was able to think one clear thought at a time.
"Fire. This van is on fire."
"I've got to put it out."
I grabbed a sports bottle of milk by my feet and squeezed it at the fire. Nothing happened, but I inhaled black smoke that burned all the way down.
A new thought: "I've got to get my children out."
Three-year-old Emily appeared in front of me, and I carried her out and waded through the snow to set her on the trailer behind the van.
Another thought, another child. I lifted out Amy, age 5, then Matthew, seven.
Another slide appeared on the screen in my mind. My baby. I reached through the billowing, burning smoke and unbuckled 5-month-old Benjamin's car seat. I pulled him toward me, grabbed his blankets, and waded back to set him on the trailer with the others.
As I did, I heard my children screaming: terrible, terrified screams that were swallowed up by the endless night and cold. And I realized I was alone, all alone with these helpless children in a world of malevolent horror, blackness and flames. Paul was gone and we were the only people left in the world.
Another thought penetrated my dazed mind: "It's cold. I've got to keep my children warm." I yanked open the back door of the van. There on top was the big suitcase with their boots, ski pants, and extra wraps. That morning it had been heavy and bulky. Now, I pulled it out and tossed it far down into the ditch as though it was a basketball. Then, with mindless determination, I dug for the extra blankets that I knew were in there somewhere. The flames were almost to the back seat, but I hardly noticed. I had to get the blankets or my children would freeze.
A voice called me; a breathless, rasping voice. "Dorcas, run!" I couldn't run. I hadn't reached the blankets yet. Paul appeared close to me. "It's going to explode! Get Benjy! WE'VE GOT TO RUN!" Oh, yes—that gas tank under the back seat. I had forgotten.
I grabbed Benjamin in his carseat, Paul carried Emily, and with Matthew and Amy we started running, into the night, away from the van.
For the first time, I actually felt the cold. I looked down and saw my shoes, sweater, and skirt. "I'm going to freeze to death," I thought calmly, and kept running.
Suddenly, out of the endless darkness around us, lights appeared. They were real. Headlights. What vast, glorious relief to see a pickup truck pull up beside us and a man jump out. He welcomed us into the truck and set the children into the wide space behind the seat. Ahead of us, the moose struggled to lift his head from the highway. Behind us, orange flames leaped from every window of the van. And in the warmth and safety, I counted our children, over and over and over.
The next evening, while Paul answered calls from friends and relatives, I sat on the living room floor and read to the children. I could think clearly again, and felt the full horror of our experience wash over me, again and again. At the same time, I was overwhelmed with a sense of gratitude and wonder: we were all there. All of us. Together, whole, warm, safe, and alive.
It was the first time I really sensed how close we walk to death, and I had a new awareness of the preciousness of the people I love. Too often, I realized, I had taken my family for granted and complained that my life wasn't exciting. Now I began to understand that even the most ordinary moments are treasures, priceless and fragile. So I promised myself that I would never lose that sense of wonder or complain that my life wasn't exciting enough.
And last night, lying in bed and listening to the owl, I kept my promise and thanked God for the incredible gift of an ordinary day.
Monday, July 21, 2008
Since you asked: The Official Bambam Story. . .
Some years ago, feeling out of touch with the needs of the world, I prayed for opportunities to minister to others. What I wanted was desperate women at my kitchen table asking, "What must I do to be saved?" as their cups of tea grew cold.
Instead, God placed us in an isolated Indian village in Canada, and he surrounded me with children. Dozens of them. They came storming into my life with noisy boots and runny noses. They tracked snow and sand indoors, coughed wretchedly in the baby's face, and taught my son dirty words. Without knocking, they burst into our house at all housr, even late in the evening when my husband was putting the children to bed. They came in with bloody noses that I was supposed to treat, and once a table full of special guests from civilization was treated to the view of Marcel's hockey-smashed nose in the middle of supper.
Just as I was about to tell God that this was not exactly what I had in mind, he sent me Bambam. I believe his given name was Jules, but everyone called him Bambam, and he did his best to bam-bam my hard-won Christian virtues to oblivion.
Bambam was only about five years old, but his capacity for sheer wickedness was developed to a fine art. He threw our children's boots onto the roof, sand into their eyes, and their toys into the lake. In summer he wouldn't share swings; in winter he hogged the sleds. He pitched dirty water on the windows I had just washed. He always managed to blast into the front door just when I had put the baby to sleep. "Aay! Smucker!! Cook-EE!!" he would shout in that peculiar Cree accent, as the baby wailed in the bedroom, clouds of frigid mist rolled across the floor, and I yelled at him to shut the door.
Since Bambam ignored everything less exciting than what he saw on TV at home, including all my lectures, I had no hope of ever having an influence on his life. But it slowly dawned on me that perhaps he was supposed to have an influence on mine. One day I had drained the wringer washer, as usual, via a hose strung down the hall, through the living room, and outside. I unhooked the hose and pushed the washer back into the corner. When I turned around to gather up the hose, I saw a river of muddy water spreading over the floor. I found Bambam outside gleefully pouring dirty water in the outside end of the hose. "Lord!" I yelped silently, "What are you trying to teach me through this child??" There was no answer.
Then there was the raspberry episode. We seldom had fresh fruit, so I was delighted one summer to find wild raspberries growing around the village. I gathered my children one afternoon, handed out little containers, and set out to pick enough raspberries to make a pie. We had barely started down the road when who should join us but Bambam. I couldn't justify sending him home, so he tagged along. I had a sinking feeling that he would find a way to spoil the venture for us. Sure enough, at every clump of bushes he delightedly dived in ahead of me and picked and ate the very fattest berries before I could get to them. I was ready to scream. Again I prayed a silent, exasperated prayer. "God!! WHAT do you want me to learn from this child??!"
As I stood there with my container of berries I got an answer. It was as though God gently pushed aside my frustration and poured the healing balm of his Word. "Suffer the little children to come unto me, and forbid them not." "Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me." "Whoso receiveth one of these little ones in my name receiveth me."
I walked home with few berries but a measure of peace. Apparently Bambam was supposed to teach me to love.
So I loved him. Not with my emotions, but with my will. I probably didn't treat him that much differently than before, but there was a new purpose in it. I talked gently when I wanted to scream. I made him sit, glowering, on a kitchen chair when I would have loved to whack him. I let him spend hours at our house when I longed to send him packing.
I had long since given up on having an influence on Bambam's life. God was teaching me plenty, and that was enough. Then came the hallelujah party. The churches in the village didn't want their members celebrating Halloween, so they offered an alternative--a time of games and good food, but no masks or costumes, at the community hall. We bundled up the children and walked over to join in the fun.
It seemed like the whole village had turned out. After all, who could resist the spectacle of plump, 45-year-old David and Mary Kanakakeesic running a relay race with a balloon held between their heads? But my laughter evaporated when I looked around and saw that Bambam was also there and, oh no, he was coming my way. I steeled myself for trouble of some kind.
Bambam walked over to us and in a complete reversal of behavior put his arm around me and announced with a big smile, "MY BEST FRIEND!"
At first I was too stunned at this unbelievable turn of events to respond, but I finally managed to give him a big smile and a hug in return.
It dawned on me that God was no doubt watching, also with a big smile. In his own mysterious way, he had fulfilled my desire to touch a needy life.
Voice from the Past
I nearly fell over as the dots suddenly connected in my head. When I was a child at our little Beachy-Amish church in Minnesota, Ulf Oldenburg used to come and preach to us about the persecuted church in Eastern Europe and Russia. He had that intense been-through-the-fire look in his eyes, and would preach until ten at night sometimes, through a patient interpreter. I remember he wouldn't spare on the details despite the children in the audience, and once described a Christian man who was tortured by putting "Zwei Hoge in sei Nass" (two hooks in his nose) and hoisted up.
I thought Ulf was an old man back then, and I can hardly believe he's still alive thirty years later. But apparently is he not only alive and well, but he's learned to speak English quite well. He'll be in this area sometime soon I think. I'll need to go hear him.
Sunday, July 20, 2008
Sunday evening at the Shoe
The school fundraiser garage sale was yesterday. We made some money but please don't ask me if it was worthwhile for at least another week, if then. It turned out to be at least 3 times bigger than I had expected, and I was piling used clothing on tables in my dreams. I learned that garage sales are "mom" things and not a good school project, and if you ask teenage guys to put the t-shirts here and the sweatshirts over there, they are somehow unable to do this, or to distinguish either of them from sweaters, and they don't have the slightest clue how much a sandwich maker or used candle should cost. I will say that they are great at putting up signs and hauling boxes, but not at the finer things.
By last night I was so tired I couldn't see straight, and then I went to bed and woke up at 4:00 this morning and couldn't go back to sleep. I am like a two-year-old when it comes to the importance of a good night's sleep, so I found myself crying for no reason other than sheer utter tiredness in the middle of Sunday school. This was embarrassing. Thankfully lunch was in two crock pots and afterwards my nice husband cleaned up and I slept for several hours and oh how much more pleasant the world looks.
Emily went to church today, both services, start to finish, for the first time in about ten months. Glory and praise. She also helped me with the children's meeting this evening, mostly by giving me ideas for stories to tell and assuring me this was just as good as a clever craft or a story from a flip-book. "You were famous in your day for Bambam stories," she said, referring to the little neighbor guy in Weagamow Lake in Canada who used to come over and hog the swings, throw dirty water on my windows, and lots of other terrible things.
So I told stories, of my childhood and Bambam and my children, and by special request, the story of when we hit a moose and the van burned up.* And all the kids listened except the few who were poking each other in the corners. And then they got a double dose because by a strange coincidence Paul referred to the same episode in his sermon as an illustration for praising God for his deliverance. I've noticed that when Paul tells this story it's 5 degrees warmer than when I tell it, and he tells more about the trailer hooked on behind, which is now at the warehouse, and he always brings in something about insurance, which I somehow neglect to mention.
(Paul thinks insurance is a big racket and will only buy the legal minimum, which actually worked out ok when we lost the van, because 5 churches took offerings for us, enough to buy another van.)
Sundays are good.
*Full story in the last chapter of Ordinary Days.
Quote of the Day:
"I'm roasting my shorts!"
--Steven's explanation of why a cane was poking out his window and scootching around on the porch roof every few minutes the other day. He wanted to warm up his swimming trunks, which he was soon going to get wet in the creek, which of course is toasty warm from mountain-snow runoff and all.
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
Nice numbers
Monday, July 14, 2008
Of course my personal view is that with the housing market what it is, he would have been better off to keep the money that came in, choose a winner, and leave it at that.
But he never asked for my advice, an error that so many seem to make.
Now what do I do with all my ideas and dreams for this house? It was going to host family get-togethers, and we were going to fix a small apartment for Emily to get well in, and the ladies' retreats and Bible Memory Camps were going to be there, and our friends were going to rent it for weekends at the beach, and I was going to maybe host a few writers' weekends, and returning missionaries were going to stay there to recharge their batteries.
And now that little dream seems finished.
Sunday, July 13, 2008
Life and Lists and Love
I am wondering how much a mom should be involved in nudging, hinting, choosing, indicating, pointing in the general direction of, and so on.
Recently a mom I was talking to said, "You can not control who your children fall in love with!" Well, believe me, I know that already, having been oft informed of the importance of "chemistry" in more ways than not mixing chlorine with toilet bowl cleaner. But I also know that some heavy approval or disapproval on Paul's or my part could tip the balance one way or the other once things actually had a bit of momentum.
Matt says that guys have a "list" that includes every girl they know that they would consider a possibility. It doesn't take Barbie-doll looks or phenomenal talents to be on this list, I have gathered, just a general niceness, self-respect, Christian faith, and good grooming, which is surprisingly important, and a bit of zip and zing, as my Aunt Vina used to say. However, a sharp tongue can get you erased off the list pretty quickly, as can selfishness and excessive neediness.
The girls have lists also, I think, but are not as free as Matt is to tell me who is on them and what qualities are most important.
Confession time: As a mom, I have a few lists of my own, and when I meet a young man or woman I sometimes add them to my list and sometimes I even say a few prayers alerting God to their excellent potential.
This is the problem: the people on these lists keep pairing off with people who are not my children. It is very annoying. Is it so much to ask that half a dozen nice young ladies on my list wait till Matt is out of college and has a good job so he can choose among them? I didn't think so, but there they go, picking instead some weaselly young man who isn't nearly as cool or smart as Matt, and posting cozy pictures of the two of them on Xanga, leaning into each other on a creek bank.
Then there are all the guys on my list who haven't noticed Amy yet, or tasted her exquisite cinnamon rolls, and while I am in no hurry to marry her off, and I want her to taste boldly of life before she "settles down" as the Amish say, it seems they could have the decency to at least stay available until she's ready, but noooo, off they go, pairing up with some harebrained little thing with a hank of hair dangling down beside her nose, in the requisite picture of the two of them on Xanga.
You will notice here that I am being very vague and not mentioning names, because I will be in enough trouble as it is when my kids read this.
And they are going to accuse me of being a matchmaking Mennonite mom, but here at least I think I have the trump card, because I spoke at a Presbyterian church a while back, and mentioned to the women that among lots of other things going wrong that week, the girl at the top of my list for Matt had started dating someone else. And afterwards several women said they empathized so well with this, and one of them told me, almost in tears, that there was this nice neighbor girl who was so sweet and talented and pretty, and she ran in track, and she worked hard on the farm, and this lady so wanted her for her son, and now she's dating someone else. She looked heartbroken, telling me, and we had a real mom-to-mom sympathy moment there, believe me. So it's not just a Mennonite thing.
It's fun having grown-up children, but it's not easy.
Quote of the Day:
JoNell the nephew's wife and I are looking at an ad for the new Kit movie.
Me, to JoNell: Were you into American Girls?
Matt, interrupting: I've been into American girls since I was 14.
Saturday, July 12, 2008
Post and Coast
The problem with involving Paul is that I see very little of him these days, and when I do see him it's either at the warehouse and he's all in a rush to get the beltivator fixed, or he's eating supper an hour and a half late, or he's collapsed onto the couch, having first taken the time to put an old quilt on the couch to protect it from his dusty clothes, bless him.
So I can't bring myself to bother him with refining a blog post.
Meanwhile, I'm writing this in a motel at the coast, where all of "us girls" went to celebrate the three birthdays of ours that occur between June 25 and July 6. The beach was very cold and windy last night so we ate at Mo's and window-shopped in Old Town Florence and then returned to the motel to watch a dvd Amy had brought along. "Would anyone rather read than watch a movie?" I asked, since I was deep into a book Aunt Susie had donated for the school rummage sale, They Loved to Laugh. "I would!" said all three girls. So we all sat on the beds and read and a good time was had by all.
And then it was time for three young ladies and one old one to settle down for the night, and we will draw the curtain of charity over that scene, and the talking, and giggling, and Jenny's midnight imitation of how her mom sleeps, with a little hissing "poooh" with each breath, and Amy and Emily's gales of laughter., and my feeble, desperate pleas to be quiet. Ah well. Sleep finally came to all.
Quote of the Day:
"Mirror mirror, on the wall, I am my mother after all."
--a little plaque in one of the little shops, that sent me into fits of giggles, while the girls looked on, mystified. I said they'd understand it in 30 years, and Emily said if she sees it in 30 years and thinks it's funny, she'll think, Mirror mirror on the wall, I have my mother's sense of humor after all.
Wednesday, July 09, 2008
Harvest Photos
It's grass-seed harvest time.
My nephew Zack is staying with us for the summer and sacking seed for eight hours a day. He's still learning about the job and very tired at the end of his shift, but he's catching on fast.
This is Roy, waiting while his truck dumps. He drives for a farmer named Hugh Gray who brings us about half of the seed we process.
Paul blows the dust off his clothes before he eats his supper.
Tuesday, July 08, 2008
Looking Like a Mom
A client of mine once came to me for her appointment reeling. She had just been at a department store where a young man was looking for a present for his nephew. He stopped her with the sentence, "You look like a mom ... what would you suggest buying for a ten-year-old boy?" She wanted an entirely different haircut that day.
Obviously the implication here is that looking like a mom is a bad thing. Maybe that's because the popular perception is that looking like a mom is all physical, and all moms are sloppy and out of shape. At least that's the impression I get when people meet me and insist that I can't possibly have six children, which is flattering in its way, but I think the essence of a real mom shows up on her face and I hope that's what people can see in me.
I am proud to be a mom, and I hope people can look at me and tell right off that if they have a problem they can tell me about it, that I've survived enough crises to know what to get upset about and what not to, that I'll happily dispense advice, that I believe in better things for them, that I'll drop everything to make them a cup of hot tea, that I'll happily mother anyone who needs mothering.
And if someone stops me in a store to ask what to buy for a ten-year-old, I'll feel honored.
Quote of the Day:
"You gotta be the funniest mom alive."
--Jenny. Yes, I consider this one of the best compliments ever.
Sunday, July 06, 2008
Column and Birthday
And today is Emily's 18th birthday. You can visit this amazing daughter of mine here.
Quote of the Day:
"Ah can ah-dentifah with thaaat!"
--Julia from Mississippi, referring to the story about Ben and Steven picking and spilling the blackberries. She has never met me but reads my blog, and was driving up Interstate 5 the other day while on a Western Trip with her husband and remembered a story about us living by the freeway and called to find out which was our house. We moved out of that house some years ago, so I couldn't wave at her, but we had a nice chat anyway.
Friday, July 04, 2008
Rumor Laid To Rest
So I left a message and, soon after, the phone rang. "Hello, this is 'Elonna'." Oh, ok, must be Elona Ketcham from the Shoppe of Shalom, otherwise known as the Mennonite Store. But she went on, "I'm calling from Dr. Ruckman's office and I got your message, and it's the left foot."
She then went on to ask how I was doing and just chitchatted like an old friend. I was thoroughly confused. How many women are there with names pronounced "Elonna"?? But WHAT would Elona K. be doing calling from the doctor's office? To my knowledge the only place she works is the store.
But there she was, chatting like she knew me. I don't do well with shifting contexts, like if you'd be in an airport overseas and see your neighbor lady. Wait, is that really her? But it looks just like her. But WHAT would she be doing here?
But whoever this woman on the phone was, she was asking me what I'm doing on the Fourth of July. I tried to act nonchalant and normal despite my confusion. "I think I'll have Amy take the kids to the parade and then we'll all go hear the Knox Brothers and watch the fireworks."
And she said, "So is it true what I heard, that this is the last year the Knox Brothers are singing at the gazebo, or maybe the second-to-last year, and they're going to be disbanding?"
Oh dear, I had heard nothing of the sort.
We ended the conversation with me still confused about who I had been speaking to. And at the supper table I broached this very important topic: Were the Knox Brothers disbanding? I found this alarming, feeling like I had never appreciated them as I ought, or gone to their concerts (besides the 4th of July ones), the way we Oregon people don't go to Crater Lake.
No one knew. "Ask Grandma, she'll know," someone said, but if she didn't know it could just fan the flames of rumor even more.
Wait, you don't know who the Knox Brothers are? Shocking.
Ok, they are these six brothers who grew up in this very house and their mom was Paul's grandpa's half sister. They have been singing together for many years and if you knew what you ought to know about Gospel music, you would know who the Knox Brothers are. Especially if you're over 40.
Half of them live just down the road from us, and every year they sing in the gazebo on the riverfront in Harrisburg on July 4th while we all wait for the fireworks, which is a lovely summer ritual.
This evening I sat by EG who knows everything about Gospel music. " Are the Knox Brothers disbanding?" I asked.
"No!" she said emphatically. "There's this crazy rumor out there because they're not doing the one Gospel music festival any more, and next month there's a big 40th anniversary celebration for them. But they're still singing like they always have and there's no sign of them quitting."
What a relief. I really need to actually take in one of their concerts sometime, just in case they actually do retire. And I should go see Crater Lake again sometime, just in case they drain it or something.
And now you know that that rumor isn't true.
Quote of the Day:
"Excuses, excuses, you hear them every day. . . "
--a song the Knox Brothers sang this evening, by special request, for someone's 11th anniversary. Not sure we want to know the reason this was requested.
Apparently someone at the AARP has been thinking along the same lines because they just published this article called "Everyone has a story to tell." It's one of the best how-to's on memoir-writing I've ever read.
Thanks to Margaret from the First Congregational Church for the link. I don't yet get AARP literature myself, just so you know.
Quote of the Day:
"Services are Christ-centered, liturgical, and dignified."
--readerboard at a church in Albany
Thursday, July 03, 2008
Test results
Except West Nile fever. That's still elevated, the nurse said. As I understood it, it will keep showing up on tests long after Emily's well, so not much can be concluded from this except that the original tests were accurate and we have actually been dealing with West Nile for the last 10 months and have not been wandering down a dead-end tunnel in this maze all this time.
Upward and onward.
Quote of the Day:
"Worms have feelings too!!"
--Emily, whose drama has not been destroyed by WNF, to Steven, who was going fishing
Wednesday, July 02, 2008
And yet. His sister Janet is in Haiti on a mission project. Annette and her husband took flowers to neighbors who lost a son to a motorcycle accident. And Marcus, who is my brother and Leonard's dad, has consented to lead a workshop on suicide at Penn Valley Retreat Center this fall even though it's going to be very difficult for him.
Quote of the Day:
"Well, you make choices every day of your life, and the easy choice would not be to do the redemptive thing."
--Annette. But as you can see they choose to do the redemptive thing anyhow.