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Pic: Simon O'Dwyer
He's the son of a dentist and physiotherapist who once startled the Queen while working as a cub reporter in West London.
But JOE PENHALL (above) is also well known for writing plays Blue/Orange, Some Voices, Pale Horse, Haunted Child to name a few as well as adapting novels Enduring Love and The Road for the big screen. The multi-award-winning playwright, screenwriter and director also wrote TV series Moses Jones and adapted The Long Firm for the BBC.
More recently he penned long-running Kinks musical Sunny Afternoon and has just completed David Fincher's new FBI series, Mindhunter, for Netflix. He's currently working on Night in Hatton Garden, Working Title's movie about the infamous London diamond heist set to star Michael Caine and Ray Winstone.
Be warned, this interview is a monster in 3 parts. Forthcoming blogs will include insights into Joe's film and TV work, his experiences as a journalist as well as exciting news on some new stuff he's working on.
So get that brew on and enjoy our first chat about… tons.
Let's start with the early days – tell us a bit about how you got started and how you knew what you were doing?
I was very lucky. Before I was a newspaper journalist I worked in a pizza bar and one of my customers was an actor and director and taught at Central and he said I like your plays, you should try and get them on in a local theatre and I'll direct them.
So Wild Turkey he originally directed a reading of that at the White Bear and then when I wrote Some Voices he looked over it and he advised me on re-writes and did a great reading of it at Battersea Arts Centre. And then I was involved in the Royal Court Young People's Theatre so I knew who to give it to and gave it to other theatres.
I didn't give it to the Court because I was pissed off with them for not doing the burger bar play [more of this later]. Eventually I gave it to the Court and Stephen Daldry [then-Artistic Director] was really grateful.
But what happens is, every few years you come a cropper, every few years you do a play that isn't that well received. You have to remind yourself there is a real world out there. That it's not the end of the world – it feels like the end of the world when your play gets rejected… but it's really hard.
Birthday [about a man who gives birth] took 6 days to write, infact it took 3 days to write – I wrote it day and night and didn't stop. And then I gave it to director Roger Michell who said I really like it but the second half, does the baby have to die? I was like look man, I've been up all night for about 4 days drinking brandy! I could give it another 3 days, I'll see, I dunno. So I went back, rewrote the 2nd half, the baby didn't die, gave it to him. I think it's shit but you're the boss, and he loved it.
I sheepishly gave it to Dominic [Cooke] at the Court. I said Roger really likes it but be honest cos it took 3 days to write. He loved it as well and he said I'll put it on on condition you don't change a word. But that's really rare.
The difference between someone saying I love it and want to put it on next month and somebody saying I think you should leave it in the drawer and you're probably better as a journalist, the difference is nothing, it's a thin line between success and failure.
Some Voices – lots of people read Some Voices and were like I don't get it, what's it about? And then you give it to Stephen Daldry and he's like well this, I just think this is extraordinary, we must put it on as soon as possible!
You quickly get a radar for who gets you and who is going to give you the proper devotion. You have to find people who will read it devotedly and thoughtfully.
One of the things about the boom in writing is that there is just no time to read all these plays and no time to find a product they all have to find now and those theatres are turning into sausage factories and so plays get read really quickly and writers are in or out really quickly.
How do you plan your plays, what's your writing process?
I don't write any kind of formal plan. I don't write any outline for a play. I will for a TV or movie because they require that generally but with a play I might jot down literally what happens next, next he goes to the bathroom or next he resigns his job.
I'll start with an idea that occurs to me, think about it for a bit and then forget about it and if it keeps re-occurring and it keeps accruing details then it's probably a good idea. I go through a long and rigorous vetting process because I have lots of ideas and I know only one or two of them are going to be any good. You kind of want to make sure you figure out whether it's good or not before you start writing.
One way is to talk about it with friends and if they're engaged you can tell. It's a bit like telling a joke, you know if it's funny or not. One way is if you just can't get it out of your head. Another good way is to just start writing it but you have to be a bit careful of that because once you start writing it, if you're like me, you get a bit obsessive about it, you're like a dog with a bone and you'll write 80 pages before you realise it's not good enough.
How do you form your characters?
Characters have to be pretty intuitive, you've got to have a nagging voice in your head or a nagging character.
Haunted Child – that was a pretty intuitive piece of work. I didn't really know where that play came from. I just wrote it at a time I was a little bit troubled, not in a major existential way. I was just fucked off. I was trying to sell my house and just in general I was not very happy.
I'd done The Road [film adaptation of the Cormac McCarthy novel] and I really wanted to write about a father and son. I always wanted to write something very simple that erupted from a very personal kind of obsession of fathers and sons and I did a very raw version of it and that idea collided with… I was really interested in cults.
I went to Japan to see a Japanese version of Dumb Show and when I was there I got interested in the Aum cult which had gassed the subways and one of my favourite writers Haruki Murakami had written a book about them. It seemed a bit like jihad but it was all middle class, suburban, educated people who had joined this cult of technology. They were these engineers, scientists, journalists, ordinary people who were bright and you wouldn't imagine them joining a death cult. So two ideas collided.
Often my plays are two ideas colliding. When you've only got one idea it's not going to go anywhere but when you've got two then it'll have offspring. So I did a version of it that was utterly humourless and bereft of any trickery or craft or indeed any fun whatsoever and not much emotion either, it was just a grind and I put it in the drawer for a bit and about a year later it still wouldn't go away so I changed it and made it about a mother and a son and the father was the ne'er-do-well who had gone away.
And it had always been mysterious about why he'd gone away and then I imported this idea he went away to join a cult and then I had it. Once the cult thing joined with the other thing I had it.
Why did you stick with it?
I think I did start other things and realised this was the best thing. I usually have 3 or 4 things going on at once and I know one of them will be good and will stand the test of time. And the other things will be try-outs or I'll use bits of them somewhere.
It's quite painful because sometimes I'll write a whole play and it's not good enough to put on but it's a try-out so Blue/Orange I had written 3 plays that were earlier versions of that, that were sort of unrelated until finally it all coagulated and I realised exactly what I needed to do.
And I found that out by directing a version of Speed the Plow by David Mamet, a 3-hander, and it was so neat and it just seemed to do everything I needed to do and I reconvened all my ideas as a 3-hander and then it suddenly leapt into life.
Is that generally your writing style?
I'm still perfecting it. I still haven't got a pattern but you're looking for a theatrical vehicle that will hold all your ideas like a vessel. The right shaped glass to hold the drink, the right shaped dish to hold the meal. Until you find that you can be fucking around forever, you can go up all sorts of blind alleys and indulge yourself in all sort of weird ways and while you do want to be as free as you can and not be restricted by Aristotlian conventions or 3-hander conventions, they can be incredibly helpful to help you find a form.
Look at a song. A song is a great vessel for a lot of things. You might not appreciate a great guitar solo until you hear that guitar player doing it in a song. Someone just free-ranging endlessly can be really boring but a really concise, well-structured, organised, rehearsed solo can make that guitar player sound like the most inventive, magical guitar-player. And I think it's like that with a play.
Once you've got a structure and you look after it and you make sure it's economical and it's doing all the right things and all the right beats are happening in the right places and the right exposition is there and the right amount of humour. Once you look after all those things it starts to look after you in a weird way so you go oh this thing that pops up later is really good but if I follow convention and foreshadow it, just plant an indication it's coming earlier, it'll be really satisfying. Or this joke here's good but if I elaborate on it later it will be twice as good. It's very often about finding good structure and the form of the play.
You tend to have just 2 or 3 characters in your plays. Is that accidental?
It kind of is. I haven't figured out why. I'm working on a play at the moment and it's another fucking 3-hander! I got really self-conscious about it a few years ago and when I wrote Birthday I managed to squeeze in a fourth character. But I could have boiled it down to 3 – given half a chance I would have but thought I've got to try and write more.
There's something about the argument, the counter-argument and then the catalyst. Or the argument, the counter-argument and the neutraliser. I'm really interested in the way people connive and betray each other and form loyalties and then sabotage them and the best way to do that is with 3 people.
If you've got 4 people then you're needlessly complicating it but it can be satisfying and if you've only got two it's not enough but you can do it with 3. It's a bit like being in bands. I used to play in bands and they used to be 3-piece bands. Just enough to prop up the things, there's something really thrilling about 3 people.
How do you approach redrafting?
I always liked to do a radically different rewrite. I kind of would throw the baby out with the bathwater and start all over again with the rewrite and what I learnt over time was that's not the way to do it.
The way to do it is to incrementally rewrite it a very little bit at the time and do many, many rewrites that are small, incremental improvements. Never throw the baby out with the bathwater unless it's just no good, in which case, just throw it out, don't rewrite it.
Pale Horse and Blue/Orange. How many versions did you write?
Not many. First I wrote a play set in America with about 8 Americans in it for Blue/Orange which was about a group of homeless schizophrenics in care and one of them was black and had all these delusions. I did a reading of it and it worked quite well but not well enough so I put it on the back burner and then a few years later I got this idea about this guy who's in a mental hospital who thinks he's an alien from another planet and I did 30/40 pages, couldn't make it work. This movie came out that was like it so I put that on ice.
Another couple of years later I directed [Mamet's] Speed the Plow and suddenly realised that my original American idea, if I condensed it and set it in London and had just 3 people in a room it would work. So I wrote that draft, basically a new play and it worked and I did a reading, refined it a bit, maybe a couple of drafts.
Roger Michell came in and said it needed a twist in the 3rd act, and another twist at the end, and a reveal here. I thought this is all pretty prescriptive but I really admired Roger so I did it and it was done and then on press night the actors dried and dropped the three pages of twists and did my basic version before the re-writes had come in, they forgot the new stuff!
So I'll sometimes write a play, realise there is something not working so I just put it in the drawer and I'll come back to it and try and reconvene it.
I particularly love Pale Horse. How did that develop?
I wrote a rough, raw play about a young guy my age whose girlfriend had died and it didn't quite work and about 6 months later I started all over again with what was Pale Horse. And the version that went on was that first draft of the new version.
The original version was stupid – she was from Manchester and he goes up to Manchester and he gets in a feud with somebody and he has a baseball bat and everything goes wrong in one day. And then I grew up a bit and a year on wrote this version about this man whose wife had died and he goes everywhere, he goes to God, he goes to his best friend, various agencies, the criminal underworld and he tries to assuage his demons.
That was the first draft and the Royal Court got hold of it and went, this is fantastic we're going to put it on right now which almost never happens and I said no, no I need to do more work on it and I did a 2nd draft that was significantly different and they said you've thrown the baby out with the bathwater, we want to do the first draft.
The difference was the girl that he meets, Lucy, that he becomes obsessed with, in the 2nd draft she didn't kill anybody, she did something stupid in the bar and hit somebody with the baseball bat and there was a big scene and then she ran off and self-destructed, ran under a car and he goes and spends his time visiting her in hospital and it's like what happened to his wife.
And obviously with his wife you realise there was some big scene and she had some kind of accident and he was culpable. It was a lot more internal and a lot more tricksy and the Court just loved this, it was the mid-90s, this kind of Tarantino-esque proposition of this cute girl who killed somebody and what are you going to do about it.
It was the same year as Sarah Kane, Martin McDonagh's Beauty Queen of Leenane, it was really in the air. And I think they were probably right.
Funny things happen with plays. Because they are drama you sometimes have to have a fairly straightforward piece of drama to carry off lots of complicated ideas and that's why film works and film genres like crime work because sometimes it's a straightforward murder or robbery.
If you can find a plot that's one idea that you can say in one sentence, and you can hang on that characters you can make as complex and multifaceted as possible that's a good way of looking at it. With Some Voices my thing was it's about a guy who gets let out of a mental hospital before he's ready: disaster. Pale Horse: a man whose wife dies suddenly and he goes into a spiral of self-destruction. Blue/Orange: a man who appears in a London mental hospital claiming to be the son of Idi Amin.
They're all one sentence but spun in a complex way. And I've written plays that take ages to explain that don't ever really work. The play I'm working on now is a really simple five-word sentence. It's about a guy who loses everything to the taxman, he gets in trouble with a crooked accountant and loses everything. He goes through all the stations of life, having a really nice apartment on the river, having a great career to living in a doss house and his accountant goes from being a successful accountant, all the way to jail.
It's really simple but it's about the machinations of those complex financial frauds and the kind of characters that perpetuate them, and the morality of it. The central idea of somebody losing everything and going all the way to the bottom and ending up in a poor house and the other idea of somebody who is clearly of dubious morality and is clearly able to cheat financially in a grandiloquent way, seeing himself as a Robin Hood but ending up in jail.
There was something about that that really resonates. It's a 3-hander (ofcourse). I did a reading with Alan Rickman last year before he died and it was good but it wasn't great. But he was incredible. He smoked, the room; just sucked all the oxygen out. I knew the play was way too long and needed a lot of crafting and then Alan died and I just couldn't approach it and now in the last few months I've gone back to it because it seemed like a stupidly simple idea: a fraud that costs somebody everything. But it's the complexity of their approach to it.
And also doing the diamond robbery film it made me realise I'm good at crime, at devious, duplicitous people. The theatre loves things that are in the air.
I've got 4 plays in the drawer at the moment. I know they're good but I don't know if they're good enough. And that's a funny place to get to as a writer.
Writing dialogue – it's about keeping it open to interpretation but how do you avoid losing your angle on it if it can be interpreted in different ways?
In the first part of my career I was much more neurotic – it had to be done in exactly the way I had envisioned it. Now I like the mystery of it being reinterpreted. People used to say it's like hiring a dog-walker and you give them your Labrador and it comes back a Poodle and you have to get used to that, you're handing it over, just get used to handing it over and they'd drum it into you. I hated that.
But now I like the idea you give them this thing and it comes back hopefully better or more interesting. I've been really lucky in that by and large it has come back better than I've envisaged.
But a serious thing is you need a really good collaborator to interrogate you properly but I think it's a special kind of hell to have a director foisted on you that you don't get on with and they want to do their own thing and that's increasingly the currency.
Increasingly, as theatre becomes a product made by theatre-makers and you get people taking credit for devising and co-devising and it's taken away from the writer, that kind of collaboration is dying where you have a director that's devoted to the writing but also devoted to their craft.
It's quite an old-fashioned idea that we're all here to serve the play, from front of house to costume to the director. That idea is gone, it's archaeology, you will not find a director in town that wants just to serve the play, or you will but they won't be a careerist director. The directors who want to build a career are all trying to find ways to put their stamp on it and reinvent it.
What's your secret to longevity as a writer?
Refusing to go away! Some Voices – I was totally expecting them to say it was rubbish and when Stephen Daldry wanted to do it… – the National had turned it down, the Bush had turned it down, the Hampstead turned it down – and Stephen said yeah, he called me up at the paper and it was wildly successful and I hadn't really thought about if it hadn't been.
Has working on Sunny Afternoon influenced how your writing's developed?
Yeah because that was a big story so I'm interested in doing big stories. That's quite messy and sprawling but spans 2 continents and covers a lot of ground, and characters who are only there for one scene and then walk off so I'm interested in that – the exact opposite of a 3-hander like Blue/Orange so I am interested in doing what I haven't done before.
I always squeezed in my plays between films, I always had the things jostling and always written under pressure. If I had an idea I had to write it fast. And I think that has been a good thing because I've never got close to writer's block. I've got the opposite, I've got loads of plays and loads of ideas, I just don't have time to finish them.
You can do a lot of navel-gazing. Since having kids I think it's a minor miracle anyone can write if they've got kids. I've talked to other female playwrights who are contemplating having kids and don't want to because they're worried about what effect it might have. And I talk to Simon Stephens a lot about kids, he's got kids too, and it's a big, big, big, big thing and it's very hard to find the time and headspace but it does a thing to your brain, to your soul and your consciousness, it bestows upon you a wisdom and an ability to see what you couldn't see before.
Birthday was a straight autobiography. It was me, my wife in labour for 17 hours fighting tooth and claw. I made it [the protagonist] a man to make it more interesting.
Simon [Stephens] and I are in agreement about this. That old quote from Cyril Connolly [literary critic and writer] about the pram in the hall being the enemy of creativity is nonsense. It fires you up. You work everything out: your morality, your sense of what matters, what's happening to the world. Until you have kids your don't feel it viscerally. You feel it instantly, viscerally and overwhelmingly in a way you're removed from prior to that so it doesn't affect you. I don't know whether it will come out in the writing but it certainly feels like it.
Do you have any writing exercises you can recommend?
In the Royal Court Young People's Theatre we did this thing where you take a newspaper story and see if you can write a play or scene out of it. I loved it because I was in newspapers. I still do it all the time. I go Sean Spicer: where's the play in that? There's a play in Trump. There's a play in Tony Blair. There was a story a few years ago a clinical psychiatrist diagnosed him with hubris syndrome. There's a great play in that. I'm sort of thinking about it.
It's more about what's happened to me or someone I know in some form or another. Or a newspaper story that I go wow that's a great story.
Would you ever want to write something different like sci-fi, for example in Ali McDowall's style?
I really love Ali and I know him quite well. One clever thing about being a writer, one trick, is don't try and be other writers. So I thought yeah I'd love to write a play like Pomona but it's probably wise to not try.
My plays tend to be linear but I've written another play that I'm still waiting to produce, that goes back and forth in time and doesn't have scenes. It did have scenes but I chopped it all up and now it's like a documentary. You'll hear this person talking and then you'll zoom over to this person, then you'll get a bit of music and I'm trying to figure out who I'm going to do it with.
How do you deal with rejection?
You have to always become yourself. You have to become the person you were before you started, not worry about any of these bruises. You have to remember how you were when you first started and when you finished your first play and how proud you were and how indefatigable you were. It's quite hard to do.


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text: "Project vegan" has been underway now for 5 days, so instead of writing about what I've eaten the last few days, I want to share some insight to the "actual" vegan world. I'd like to introduce a colleague of mine who has been vegan for many years. Meet Tammera, we met about two years ago … Continue reading


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With a start to the month of February, be ready to face a scorching heat of summer by applying simple design ideas at your home. To help beat the heat in a sustainable way, we've rounded up a list of things you can do to keep your home cool. From the simple stuff like window shades to delving a bit further in and tuning-up your house, there are plenty of proven ways to cut the AC out of your summer without sweating.
Here are some tips to keep your home cooler during summer:
Get insulated curtains
Go around the house and drape sheets all over the exterior. These exterior curtains will keep the sun's heat away from your windows but the breeze will be blowing if you wish to keep the windows open.
Let the air in
Having multiple entry and exit points for cross ventilation also do the job. However, the timing is the key. Keep as many windows and ventilators open as possible during early mornings and late evenings. During this time of the day, the air gets in without all the harsh heat from the sun.
Focus on lights
Replace your ordinary lights wit fluorescent bulbs. Though they cost more than average lights, they provide the light effect that is much cooler and saves electricity.
Color your roof
It's a good idea to paint the roof of your house white in color, as the color helps in keeping the home cooler. Using lighter colors on the walls, furnishings and furniture helps too.
Plants on windows
While you are leaving windows open, also place some plants on the hedge. Window planters are easy to install and help humidify the dry air circulating inside.
Bamboo blinds
Bamboo performs a good job of blocking heat entering your windows, whether they are installed inside the window or on the exterior of the home. It also adds a style statement in your home interior.
At AkshaGroup, they make it point to understand the difficulties everyone faces in such seasons and hence we create abodes that are cool. Having 1, 2 and 3 BHK flats in Pune for sale, currently we are considered as one of the top builders of Pune. Our upcoming residential projects feature 1 and 2 and 3 BHK in Moshi, Chikhali for sale. To know more abour the projects of aksha group, log on to http://akshagroup.com/


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Whether you imagine the exhilaration of rushing water or watching the evening light play off of a gently trickling cascade, we will work with you to design your dream waterfall. Waterfalls are one element of our pondless design selections. This custom designed selection also includes pondless streams, and stunning fountains.
Whatever your need, we'll design the right one for you. Whether you're interested in adding exciting energy, or tranquility we will take into consideration every aspect of the architecture to bring your vision to life.


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"How small, of all that human hearts endure, that part which laws or kings can cause or cure."
— Samuel Johnson
One of the things I ponder as the year draws to a close is how often I write columns that make it seem that if Americans simply elect Candidate X or adopt Policy Y, we will automatically solve the serious problems which ail us.
Politics remains as it ever was, the art of the possible, not the science of achieving perfection, and I'm certainly not alone in inflating its powers.
But circumstances (or calendar pages) do haul me up short.
Life is far more than politics, but politics and much else in our public life has seemed to grow more coarse in recent years – and not all of that feeling is subjective.
It's a small thing, but it seems odd that the Christmas season effectively opens with a nationwide holiday called "Black Friday."
The name itself has no sinister meaning, being only a term used by merchants to describe the day after Thanksgiving, when some businesses see their sales receipts flip over from "red ink" to "black."
Yet, with the news dominated by "Christmas" stories entirely about commerce (and occasional fights over goodies, with one shopper this year using pepper spray to keep other shoppers at bay), what used to be thought of as a season of light has taken on more than a tinge of shadow.
If that is the case, we have no one but ourselves to blame.
No one made us turn away from the central message of the holiday to focus on its ephemeral qualities, but we have listened to those who wanted to push us in that direction, even though other people appear willing to push back.
Nevertheless, it is unspeakably sad that a holiday marking the birth of the Prince of Peace should come to be marred by what has been called "the War on Christmas."
Real conflicts may not be many, but they always get played up, perhaps appearing more significant than they really are.
But they are not the point, either. Christmas the public holiday isn't Christmas the religious celebration, and it may actually be a good thing that the line between them is growing more distinct.
However, the getting-and-spending side of the commercial holiday isn't all bad. Wanting to bring other people pleasure by giving them unanticipated gifts is an expression of charity, after all.
Yes, there are other reasons gifts are given, but because some are seen as a duty or a chance to curry favor with recipients does not mean that those gifts that are genuinely given out of love are somehow diminished. They remain gifts of love, and the best ones, as always, come with no thought of repayment.
Which brings us to the point: We give gifts because we once got a gift that we did not deserve – had no hope of deserving, in truth – and yet the Giver gave us everything he had to give.
That is, he gave us Himself, wholly and completely, without any thought of repayment, because repayment was and is impossible.
We had, and continue to have, nothing to give in return that is remotely worthy of the Christmas Gift.
Once, we as a nation knew this, and the holyday we mark on Sunday reflected that in many ways.
Now, that central day comes all too often as an anticlimax, too little remarked and too often shrunken and pale in the aftermath of all the effort that has gone before.
I read again with sad bemusement that many evangelical churches have canceled their Sunday services because the day is "too important to families."
If there is a War on Christmas, it is a war we make on ourselves and our own best interests, and its paradox is that those who win the battle to subordinate the day to other priorities have lost the most.
The "losers," conversely, remain in full possession of the prize.
That's a truth that's not universally accepted, of course. But millions here, and billions more abroad, have not forgotten what the day is due, and honor it appropriately – with worship.
They know that in a rough-hewn stable full of humble beasts, one who could never have a true earthly home created an eternal one for us.
As G.K Chesterton noted in his poem, "The House of Christmas":
"To an open house in the evening
Home shall men come,
To an older place than Eden
And a taller town than Rome.
To the end of the way of the wandering star,
To the things that cannot be and that are,
To the place where God was homeless
And all men are at home."
M.D. Harmon is a retired journalist and freelance writer. He can be contacted at:
Life & Culture
This weekend it's Winter Carnival time in one of Maine's hottest summer towns
Wednesday's NFL notebook: Steelers let Bell go as a free agent
Wednesday's NHL roundup: Report – Bruins trade Donato to Wild for Coyle
Wednesday's college basketball roundup: With Zion injured, No. 8 UNC routs No. 1 Duke 88-72
Wednesday's Sports Digest: Mariners win fifth straight, top Reading, 6-4


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Currently reading
Give Us a Kiss
Daniel Woodrell
Savage Night
Jim Thompson
The Buntline Special
Mike Resnick
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5:00 pm 3 June 2012
I watched my first Bond movie (I believe it was Dr. No) when I was about nine or ten. I know it was probably not very appropriate but those were my parents, the ones who took me to a drive-in showing of One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest at the tender age of six (to be fair they thought I would fall asleep. I didn't). Anyway, I LOVED Bond. This started a life long love of the Bond movies. I adored Connery, Liked Moore a lot, Didn't like Dalton very well, tolerated Brosnan and thought Craig was a brilliant choice. I have seen them all more than twice.
For some reason I never bothered with the books. I guess I thought the movies were so goofy and unrealistic that I would sprain my eyes rolling them while reading. Finally I saw eleven of the Fleming novels at a used book store for a song...Oh, why not?
The book Bond is fairly different from the movie Bond. The book Bond is kind of a giant, sexist asshole. I am also pretty sure he is probably a sociopath. That being said I still enjoyed reading about Bond's exploits. He was less ultra capable in the book, which was nice, and there was no super cool gadgets either. I don't know if they come later or if that is just the movies. Then there was this.
"My name's Felix Leiter," said the American. "Glad to meet you"
"Mine's Bond--James Bond"
"Oh yes", said his companion, "and now let's see. What shall we have to celebrate?"
"A dry Martini," he said, "One. In a deep champagne goblet."
"Oui, Monsieur"
"Just a moment. Three measures of Gordon's, one of vodka, half a measure of Kina Lillet. Shake it very well until it's ice cold, then add a large thin slice of lemon-peel. Got it?"
That is just made out of awesome.
The book is pretty good. Probably not quite enough plot for the length of the book and the characters were not as strong as I would hope. On the other hand it moves right along and is entertaining throughout. I will definitely continue reading my way through the Bond novels.
4/5 stars (this is probably a three star book for most people but it gets an extra star because I am a fanboy)
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Playing the Game 2
The storm which had begun the day Thrawn had arrived was far worse than either Navaari or I had predicted. It lasted nearly eight whole days. Thrawn enjoyed his enforced holiday for nearly four days but after that he became restless, itching to get back to work, to get back into space. He didn't actually say anything and if I hadn't known him so well I might not have noticed but I had long ago learned the tell tale signs of planet locked spacers. I had seen it in my father when he had been on-world too long, he needed space-room he would say and my mother would shoo him off, sending him out on some convoluted shopping trip to another planet so he would get out of her hair. As I got older and spent more time working at the docking bay I learned the tell tale signs in others, pilots, smugglers and drifters. It was as if the air around them shimmered with the anxiousness, the edginess of being planet bound which they felt after a certain amount of time.
In Thrawn, because it was tiny little things that gave him away, most people would never have noticed. He hid his restlessness well but I knew him better and it made me edgy, rubbing already worn emotions in entirely the wrong way. It did not help that I knew my time on Hjal with Navaari and all the friends I had made was coming to an end and it made me sad. I was torn by this, I didn't want to go but on the other hand I couldn't stay. At times such as these the apartment I shared with Navaari and now Thrawn seemed too small and claustrophobic even the enclave, which was by normal standards huge, felt oppressive and boxy.
I didn't like the feeling of being caged indoors at the best of times but ever since Jyrki's kidnapping it had been worse rather than better. I had a deep seated aversion to being in windowless places. So four nights into the bad weather, when I finally could no longer stand being cooped up and I could sense that the brewing tension would lead to a boiling fight, I threw on warm clothes and went to the South gates to be alone and get outside for a while. Growing up on Tatooine had taught me to appreciate solitude. The planet which was mostly desert was a very lonely place, unforgiving in its vastness. There was small solace in the cities and towns that clung tenaciously to its surface, where the difference between those that lived here and those that were just passing through was a look about the eyes. I could still recall the very first time I had spotted that look, the one which said I have what it takes to live here and you don't. Being from Tatooine, living on Tatooine was like wearing a badge which said I survived the wrath of Darth Vader.
Some of my earliest memories were of the desert which we could see easily from our house outside of Bestine. My mother, a native of Alderaan had fallen in love with the place the first time she had laid eyes on it and my father, who was still a transport pilot and not a docking bay owner had bought it for her as a wedding gift. Long after her death, when he was able to bring up memories of her without bitterness or anger and sorrow, my father would talk about her love for Tatooine and how unusual it was.
"She came from a world as lush and as beautiful as this one isn't. Most folks who visit this place take one look and high tail it out of here again. This place scares people but it didn't scare your mother." He had said one day. When I had asked him why he had replied, "Because Tatooine makes a person look deep inside to see if they have what it takes to survive here. Most don't, it's that simple."
The things I missed most about my home world were the wide open skies, never ending vistas offered by the vast deserts and the exotic, dry spice scented air which swept off the Dune Sea. I had travelled to many planets in my life, enjoying each one for what it offered but noticing also that there was always something missing. It had taken coming to Hjal for me to figure out just what the missing thing was the scent of the world itself.
Where Tatooine smelled like warm pasha spice, Hjal smelled like cold, ground pepper, the scent of snow, Navaari has said when I had commented on it. This had led to a lengthy discussion about the differences and the similarities between our two home-worlds, both were places of great extremes which tested the body and soul of all those who visited them for any length of time. This conversation had to led to Navaari had given me a very large piece of his mind about just running off without first letting him know that I was heading outside, saying that if he ever caught me even thinking about just leaving the enclave like I had the last time I was on his home world, well, the consequences would be interesting.
I had only nodded sullenly at the time, not happy about being reminded of my own stupidity, but once we had landed on Hjal and after being shut in for a few days, defiant and angry at everything in sight, I had ignored his warning completely. I suppose he knew I would, given the mood and the frame of mind I was in at the time.
I had no intent to run away or go for another death defying walk through a blizzard, in fact just the opposite but my need for wide open spaces outweighed any fear I might have had of Navaari's anger and the consequent punishment for not being obedient. He was, after all, I had pointed out in the several arguments that ensued, not my father and could therefore not tell me what to do. This argument was illogical and the barb was meant to hurt him, this was me lashing out in anger because my own pain was too big, too bewildering for me to acknowledge. With a calmness that was infuriating, he allowed me to rail against the wind all the while persisting in laying down some rules which I took great delight in ignoring. From the moment I had begun my strange exile with him on Hjal all I seemed to do with Navaari was fight. I was angry at everything and he caught the brunt of it and while he was good about it most of the times sometimes I pushed him too far.
The first time I had left the warmth and safety of the enclave, shortly after my arrival on Hjal, Navaari had been beside himself with anger, thinking I had run off on another crazy death walk. I had not bothered to let anyone know what I was doing; I had just dressed in my warmest clothes without wearing the mask and buggered off. His relief at finding me huddled by the South entrance had been almost as palpable as his anger. It had taken me nearly an hour to try and convince to him that I had not been planning on venturing from the doorway and that I had definitely learned that particular lesson and that I just really, really needed to get outside for a little while. It was a rare thing for Navaari to lose his patience but I had managed to make this happen when I had not told him I was heading out for some fresh air. It was a good job the discussion had been held outside where the winds could sweep most of the loudness away.
The story of my first and last little hike into the heart of a raging storm had become a bit of a legend in the enclave and not a particularly good one at that, so he had been anxious to make sure history did not repeat itself. In the end, it had been his friend, Kerrjan, who had solved the stop A'myshk'a from going stir crazy and Navaari from killing her by offering to build an addition onto the south door of the enclave.
Kerrjan was considered the master builder in the enclave. His skills at designing and creating structures from the materials at hand were almost magical. He was as old as Navaari was and he was also Navaari's closest and oldest friend. When Navaari needed to talk with someone he sought out Kerrjan and vice versa. They had grown up next door to one another and, as Navaari had once told me, were like brothers. Navaari had been an only child so for him Kerrjan was family.
For the longest time Kerrjan had intimidated me. He was a tall, slender man almost wiry in stature but there was this thread of icy durasteel that ran through him which said no messing around here. When ever he came to visit Navaari I usually found reason to be elsewhere. I always had the impression that he disliked me and disapproved of Navaari having me live here so it was a huge surprise when he came by the apartment one day and instead of asking to speak with Navaari, he had simply told me to follow him. I was too dumbstruck to argue or think twice about it and I had done as I was told.
He had invited me into his studio where he drew up and designed architecture for the enclave. There he had shown me the plans he had created, with Navaari's help, for an addition on to the South side entrance. I had fallen instantly in love with what Kerrjan had designed. It was elegant and beautiful, like a room with one wall missing so that I could see the outside world but was sheltered from the worst of the weather. I had simply stood and stared at it without saying a word, unable to take in what I was seeing.
"We'll start tomorrow, if that's alright with you." He had eventually said breaking the silence.
"You want me to help?" I had asked in total disbelief. I had never helped build anything like this in my life. The only thing I knew how to build was an engine.
"Wasn't my plan to be building this all on my own." He had replied tartly. "You need to be doing something purposeful not sitting around staring at the walls."
"I thought that was the idea behind the period of mourning." I had muttered sullenly under my breath. Instead of annoying him this had made him laugh.
"Seems to me, little pup, that you could use something to take your mind off everything that has happened to you. Sju'ru'arwy'kha is about letting go of the past, setting your ghosts free, but sitting alone day in day isn't healthy for you." He had given me a little shrug, "I never did hold with the idea of leaving the person in mourning to sort it all out on their own, but then again I was never much one for holding with most traditions either, just ask your Pa'tjad'cu-sjä." He told me, using the word that meant honoured grandfather for Navaari. "Besides, after what you did the last time you were here, he felt it wise to give you a place to be going that would indulge your need to be outside."
"This was his idea?"
Kerrjan had smiled. "Sometimes it is easier to walk with the wind than against it." He had said somewhat cryptically. "We'll start tomorrow morning, dress warmly."
The next day, a lot earlier than I was used to, Navaari had hauled me out of bed, fed me breakfast and sent me to Kerrjan who put me to work. While I had grumbled about the cold, the early hours and anything else I could think of I was deeply grateful to have something constructive to do with my time. It had taken us nearly a month to build the addition and in all that time he had rarely spoken except to give me instructions, ask for tools or correct me when I made a mistake. It had been a welcome change to be with someone who didn't expect me to be conversational especially when I didn't know what there was to say.
Once we had finished the work on the porch he began to work on a place for me to sit. "You don't need to be huddled out here like a pup on the snow." He had told me. He worked on the bench in his workshop and I was allowed to sit and watch him as he cut, shaped and joined the wood.
There had been something peaceful and cathartic about sitting there watching him work with the hand tools and create something ornate and beautiful out of the deep dark wood pieces he had found for this project. Where we had been silent and almost taciturn with each other outside, in this small sanctuary we talked to each other. He drew me out of my self imposed shell little by little and I had not even realised it was happening. He always seemed to know when I had had a bad night or when I had fought with Navaari. I had been almost sad the day he had finished the bench and I hadn't known what to say or how to thank him but I guess he had understood. Together we had carried it through the quiet halls to the South door and I had watched with mixed emotions as he put the finishing touches on it. He had smiled with a certain satisfaction at the expression on my face as I trailed my fingers across the smooth wood he had shaped.
"This is not an easy time for you, I understand that and it may surprise you to hear this but so does Navaari, more than you realise." He had said after what seemed like an eternal silence.
"It doesn't feel that way." I had replied. "It feels as though we are at odds with each other all the time. I don't know how to get past it. I don't know how to get past anything any more."
He had nodded. "Well Ma'kehla will help you with that when you go to talk to her."
My response had been to nibble nervously on my little finger and sigh, wondering if the weight I felt on my shoulders could get any heavier. I had been avoiding the enclave's healer even though I knew I was expected to go and see her.
Kerrjan had studied my face carefully for a long moment then as if he had decided on something he began to tell me a story. "You remind me of a snow wolf I once raised. I found him on the south ridge half dead cuddled by his mother who had been killed by some other creature. He wasn't more than eight or nine weeks old, and I should have killed him rather than save him, born wild and too old to socialize usually snow wolves like that are feral, wild and hating everything but right from the very start that pup and I bonded. I could no more kill him than I could have left him there to die so I bundled him up, brought him back and hand fed him. For a very long time I was the only person he'd let get near him, I suppose he knew I had saved his life but he wasn't terribly sure about anyone else. It took him a long time to stop hating the rest of the world and calm down. I began to train him up to run on my sled. I had lost my lead runner several months before and had not found a suitable replacement. He would do almost anything I asked but he hated being caged, hated being locked up in anything that had four walls, he'd bite and fight and make a terrible racket to get out of where ever it was he had been put in. Most people thought he was too savage, unusable as a sled-hound but he just hated being locked up no matter what size the room was."
"So what happened?" I'd asked.
"I built him a kennel with a swinging door to the outside. Oh, he ran away a few times and people were convinced he was gone for good, I suppose testing to see if his freedom was real or not but after a day or so, when I didn't chase him down, he always came back to the warmth of the shelter and promise of steady food."
"Weren't you afraid he'd never come back?"
"Yes, but sometimes to let a thing go is to hold onto it forever. You cannot cage a living thing against its will." Kerrjan had smiled at the memory in his head. "Once he knew he had the freedom to make the choice of inside or out, well he settled right down and was the best lead on a sled I ever had. All it took was figuring out what he really needed which was a door to the outside world. He didn't like being boxed in, he was never what one would called tamed anyway but he was as loyal as they came and a good friend. Still that didn't stop him from being stubborn and disobedient from time to time just to point out that he was still his own wolf and not mine. Navaari just hasn't quite figured out yet that you're a lot like that snow-wolf. He is afraid that if he lets you go he'll lose you. He worries too much you'll just up and vanish like you did the first time you were here, not because you are being foolish or thoughtless but because you feel that you have nothing left to live for."
"I don't feel now the same as I did back then. I keep telling him I won't do that again but he doesn't listen."
"Aye, but the threat is always there when you just up and vanish from the enclave and he still blames himself for not seeing the signs of that coming the last time. He felt he should have known, felt he should have been able to read what you had one your mind."
I had answered hotly. "How can he blame himself for something I did? That wasn't his fault. He can't read my mind and know what I am going to do before even I know?"
"Of course not, you are quiet old enough to be responsible for your own idiocy." He had replied with a shrug. "I've known him since we were children and he was always the one to take the responsibility for everything on his shoulders. He was always the one who noticed things first; it's what makes him such a good Jhal'kai. He knows more about loss than many of us will ever dream about. He has passed through more than his fair share of grief. He knows something about letting the ghosts of the dead go, first it was his twin sisters, then it was his wife and then he said goodbye to his daughter when she fell in love with a Chiss who didn't want to live here, knowing that he would rarely, if ever, see her again. He knows about letting go, but you… well you he is afraid to lose."
"Why is that? I mean it isn't as if I am really family, I am not even really Dantassi or Chiss." I had frowned as I had asked this question, a question that had long been on my mind.
"Well that's the true mystery isn't it?" Kerrjan had replied carefully. "You and he, you bonded, just like I did with that wolf-pup. No one here is quite sure how that happened, not even Navaari but you are his family now and better you start thinking that way, behaving that way."
"He doesn't speak to me about these things." I had said with a sigh.
"No, I don't expect he does. Navaari was never a particularly open man nor does he let many people get that close to him, even less so after his daughter left home."
"So what happened to change that?" I asked because the Navaari I knew wasn't withdrawn or closed, but always seemed to me to be loving and wide open.
"You happened, little wolf pup." Kerrjan had said, looking at me as though this should have been as obvious as night and day. "You gave him something to care for, to look after and love. He was talking about you long before the first time you ever showed up here damaged and broken. He was mystified by what Nikätza'ar had done but at the same time he was also completely baffled by how protective he had felt over you on Rothana."
I nodded, remembering how Navaari had helped me, how powerful the sense of connection with him had been. That feeling had not lessened any when Thrawn had brought me to Hjal after what had happened with Jyrki. If anything it had made it stronger, more intense. "Did he tell you what happened there?"
"He did eventually." Kerrjan had nodded. "And that tale was almost unbelievable to hear."
"Meeting him felt like a derjak game with all the pieces moving in the right places at the right time." I said. "Though at the time I was way more annoyed at Za'ar about it all because I figured that he had set the whole thing up, but he hadn't. It really was chance. I remember Navaari telling me that things always happen for a reason and that his people did not question destiny.
Kerrjan had made a short bark of a laugh, "Most of the time we do not, although Navaari has been known to fight against it from time to time, much good it does him." He had stopped what he was doing to look at me. I had held his steady gaze for a moment then looked away. It had felt as though Kerrjan could see into the deepest part of my soul which was unnerving. For a very long time there was a silence between us, then he said, "You are a gift. You arrived at a point in his life where he felt empty, like you do now."
I had looked at him for an explanation and Kerrjan had sighed. I could see by the expression on his face that he was debating what he should say next and exactly how to say it, as if he were about to unveil a great dark secret.
"There is a lot you do not know about your Pa'tjad'cu-sjä," He had started. "He went through a very bad time in his life, shortly before he found you. While he will never admit to this, he had gone to Kerest with the intent of maybe not coming back. He did not think it would be noticed, but I knew. Before he had left he had said goodbye in a manner that had sounded final and he had put all of his affairs in order. He had not expected to survive that hunt which is always a sure way to ensure one doesn't."
I had given him a startled look then. "I don't believe Navaari would do that. He would never give up, he would never …. " I bit off the words that had started in my brain before I could speak them out loud.
Kerrjan gave me a long speculative look. "I am quite certain that many people would have said the very same thing about you, but you gave up everything when you decided to head out in a blizzard. Loneliness and sorrow do strange things to people and Navaari had carried his sorrow around with him for a long time. While he may preach about letting go of ghosts, he was not always one to be practicing the same thing. He went to Kerest to lead the most difficult and the most deadly hunt we know of, knowing that the chances were very good he would not survive it. Dying while on a hunt would have been an honourable death. Navaari saw that as preferable to dying alone in his sleep like an old wolf long past its usefulness." He said plainly, stating out loud what I could not.
I had shaken my head in utter disbelief. "But he wasn't alone, the entire enclave loves him, he had you, why didn't he talk to you?" My voice had sounded so plaintive, so small, echoing the terrible ache in my heart. The rawness of the loss I still felt seemed to double with the knowledge that Navaari had felt the same way. It had taken all my concentration not to cry. I could not believe that Navaari, who was like a mountain of strength for me would have felt he had nothing to live for.
Kerrjan had sighed. "That's not something most men will ever talk about. We tend to be taciturn at best about our feelings and stupid at worst. Navaari was over seventy eight years old, he had outlived his family with the exception of his daughter whom he almost never saw or spoke with, he had lost that vital link which seemed to make him whole and he did not know how to get it back. Sometimes that sort of loss and disconnection does funny things to a person and you of all people should understand this."
"I don't believe it. I don't believe he would ever give up like that." My words had been fierce and angry. I had not wanted to know this, not wanted to believe it but Kerrjan was not lying, I would have known if he was.
"Well, little pup, belief on your part is not required. Your Pa'tjad'cu-sjä went through very dark times of his own. He understands about wanting to be walking into a storm alone. That's what makes him fear for you so deeply."
When tears had welled up in my eyes I had not fought against them. It had never occurred to me that Navaari would understand me so well and I had been more than cruel with my words to him during many of the bitter arguments we had had since my arrival. Suddenly, I had felt a deep sense of shame at my own selfishness and it hit me like an avalanche. Kerrjan had watched me as I had brushed away my tears angrily and had nodded with a grim air of satisfaction before continuing to tell me his story.
"There comes a point when a man needs to face himself and that was what he was doing when he went to Kerest. He went without a reason to return but then, on the way, he met you."
My memory of my first meeting with Navaari was so sharp, so clear but not once did I recall getting the sense from him that he was getting ready to face his last hunt. What I really remembered the most was his quiet calm strength, the way he had guided me through the fight which had occurred and helped me to come out of it alive. I also remembered his frustration and slow building anger, a fearsome thing, at my own ignorance of all things Dantassi. Yet underneath that anger had been something else, a kindness, a tenderness one sometimes feels towards strays and children but I had not seen this until now. Then I remembered the way he had looked at me and the way he had said 'you have given me much.' when I had told him that I had nothing to give in return for the amulet he had placed around my neck. I had thought he was simply being polite but now I understood. Kerrjan must have noted my revelation on my face because he had smiled then.
"When he returned from Kerest he had changed. It was as if he had found a purpose but for a very long time he would not speak of it except to say that something remarkable had happened, that he had met someone who had given him hope. It was only after Nikätza'ar had come to pay him a visit just after you had been kidnapped did he finally open up and tell me the whole story."
"Za'ar came here?" I had asked. "I knew he had asked Navaari to 'keep and eye out for me' but I had not known he had actually come to Hjal."
Kerrjan had nodded. "He came to ask the Jhal'kai Order to look for you. It was only then, after it became public knowledge that something truly extraordinary had happened did Navaari tell me the whole story. I know that he had confronted Nikätza'ar about you before but that had been in private. When your Ta'kasta'cariad came here to ask for help what he had done was out on the open, no more secrets to hide. Navaari had known about you since Rothana but he had said nothing. I suppose the situation was so unusual he was unsure how to proceed so he kept it to himself trying to find a solution or an answer but once your existence was common knowledge, well then he came to me."
I had sighed. That I had been the cause of so much turmoil seemed unreal.
"We were most impressed to learn that you had managed to free yourself and find your way home." Kerrjan had continued. "It was then that Navaari made known to the council that he wanted you to come to the enclave and be taught the Dantassi ways. He felt you had earned that right by surviving what must have been a difficult trial."
I had shivered. "It was an awful time. I don't like thinking about it."
"Of that I have no doubt." Kerrjan had nodded. "It was not a surprise when word came that Nikätza'ar was bringing you here. We all knew that you would be brought to stand before the elders so that there would be no need for masks, but no one had expected Nikätza'ar to ask for a soul-binding ceremony and the look on your face told everyone he hadn't even spoken of it with you either. I suppose we all put down your quietness that night to being shy and maybe even surprise at Nikätza'ar's actions. No one expected you to simply vanish off into a blizzard but in hindsight it was not such a surprise that you did."
"It was a stupid thing to do." I had said crossly. "I was an idiot."
"On those two points I don't disagree but you were also in so much pain, too much pain with no way to let it all go. That sort of anguish makes people do foolish things. Navaari, to this day, regrets that he did not see it coming because he knew the signs. The first time you left the hall he followed you, fearing you might get lost but the second time he figured that you were just exhausted and needed sleep."
I had shaken my head angrily. "How could he have seen that coming? I didn't even know I was going to do what I did before I did it."
"You asked the right questions." Kerrjan had said carefully. "You asked Navaari how to survive the cold because somewhere in that head of yours you had already decided on what you were doing later. He thinks he should have known. He was trained to see the smallest signs for tracking, so he thinks he should have been able to foresee your actions. Though, after getting to know you it doesn't surprise me that he didn't. You are a bit chaotic and unpredictable."
I had just made a face but didn't interrupt him.
"Now, after what happened here the first time, he doesn't want to lose you to a repeat of that so he tries to hold you close. You fight this because you don't want to be feeling trapped, backed into a corner you cannot get out of. But I have to tell you, neither Da'hajn's hand nor unconditional love is a trap. He'll figure it out eventually and so will you but until then, consider this place we've made here to be a room with a door to the outside and use it to compromise before the two of you wake up the whole enclave with your shouting."
My cheeks had flushed red with sudden embarrassment. "You can hear us fight?"
"I live only a short ways from you and yes, I can hear you fight. You, little pup, have a very loud bark."
I could only mumble an apology which had made Kerrjan laugh. He had me help him hook the seat he had finished to the chains that hung from the roof of the addition and that had been the end of that conversation.
I loved the bench he had made because I could sit with my feet barely touching the ground and swing back and forth. I liked it even better because it was broad and large enough for three of me, which meant that when Navaari came out to join me we could both sit on it comfortably.
What Kerrjan had told me about Navaari I kept to myself but from that time onward I always left him a note, letting him know where I had gone. Often he would join me outside somehow understanding that while I needed to be out in the open I didn't necessarily want to be alone. He never asked what had prompted my change in behaviour but he had let me know in his subtle way that he was relieved not to have to fight with me about it. I had not ever really thought about my own actions or their broader implications before, but the conversation I had had with Kerrjan had shown me that what I did had consequences and I touched other people's lives in ways I could not even begin to imagine. Thrawn had been trying to tell me this for years but I had just been too wrapped up in my own little world to listen.
"Sometimes, little pup," Kerrjan had said to me when I had spoken to him about this one day shortly after our earlier conversation, "you need to learn to pull with the team instead of against it."
I had only nodded, acknowledging his words, hoping that this was a lesson I had finally, finally learned.
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This is an interactive, real-time display system of space science images and data designed for museums and schools. The program displays hundreds of images and movies from space science research, all documented, with web references of how to find... (View More) out more information. The materials also include a large number of space science educational activities. The software is available for purchase. Full-screen versions without support files are available for download but require a registration number after a 30-day demo period. (View Less)
Carl Sagan once claimed that the most important lesson we learn from studying the stars is perspective. To address this concept, this activity offers a scale model of the solar system to be evaluated. There are many versions of solar system scale... (View More) models available; this one is unique for its large scale chosen, the quality of the scaled objects, and the supplementary materials and information provided. The model is extended to include interaction and discovery on the part of learners, and suggested extensions. The set of materials includes a book about the solar system, developed from NASA's "From Earth to the Solar System" (FETTSS) imagery, and appropriate for use with the model. (View Less)
Materials Cost: $5 - $10 per group of students
Explore the size relationship between the sun and Earth by using tape and stickers. Learners estimate, then place and count the number of one-inch diameter stickers (representing Earths) that would fit across the diameter of a nine-foot circle of... (View More) tape (representing the sun). The relative size of each becomes visually apparent. Related Next Generation Science Standards (NGSS) are listed. (View Less)
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This afterschool curriculum includes six lessons plus supplementary materials (e.g., videos, PowerPoint presentations, and images) that explore how light from the electromagnetic spectrum is used as a tool for learning about the Sun. The curriculum... (View More) is designed to be flexible to meet the needs of afterschool programs and includes recommendations for partial implementation based on time constraints. It was specifically designed to engage girls in science. (View Less)
In this activity, students create a scale model depicting the vertical distance from Earth's surface to various features and objects, including Earth's atmospheric layers, the Van Allen Radiation Belts, and geocentric satellites. Students also... (View More) compare the vertical distances to these features and objects with distances from their classroom to other common points on the ground. Includes background science information; student reading, handouts and worksheet; teacher information; and suggested extensions and adaptations for students with vision impairment. (View Less)
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This is an activity about scale. Participants will arrange imagery of Earth and many other space objects in order of their size from smallest to largest, their distance from Earth's surface, their temperature from coolest to hottest, and/or their... (View More) age from youngest to oldest. By manipulating these images and discussing their ideas, children and adults represent and confront their own mental models of space and time. (View Less)
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The 9-session NASA Family Science Night program emables middle school children and their families to discover the wide variety of science, technology, engineering, and mathematics being performed at NASA and in everyday life. Family Science Night... (View More) programs explore various themes on the Sun, the Moon, the Stars, and the Universe through fun, hands-on activities, including at-home experiments. Instructions for obtaining the facilitator's guide are available on the Family Science Night site. (View Less)
This is a lesson about the electromagnetic spectrum. Learners begin by arranging a set of picture cards; in the discussion afterwards, this activity is related to the electromagnetic spectrum as an arrangement of energy waves. Next, using a... (View More) clothesline to model a logarithmic scale, they add in the electromagnetic spectrum. Finally, learners conduct several simple tests to detect other types of radiation. This activity requires access to a sunny outdoor location and the use of ultraviolet light-sensitive beads. (View Less)
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This is an activity about perspective. Learners will examine pictures of objects up close and far away to try and figure out what they are. Then, given an image of a star and the Sun and through discussion about the differences and similarities of... (View More) seeing objects up close, learners will use the concept of perspective to relate our nearby Sun to the stars that appear as small points of light in our sky. (View Less)
Materials Cost: Free
This is an activity about size and scale. Learners will create and walk through a distance scale model of the size of the Solar System. This activity requires a straight line distance of approximately 295 meters (300 yards).


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« Gold – Is It Currency? Tips In Finding A Good Renovation Contractor »
Employing Points: Renovation Contractor
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Renovation is the manner of improving a structure. It can either be for residential or a commercial purposes. Before engaging in any renovation, a careful selection of a renovation contractor is critical. It can be disappointing to employ a con-artist but it's better to employ the best.
The reconstruction may be simple as in bathroom restructuring or residential adjustments for people, or it can also be complicated as in with elevators or bedroom annexing. Either way, there will come to a point when we require professional assistance. Depending on the job, the renovation contractor will definitely be close and present most often to familiarize and monitor the scheme. Desirably, the renovation contractor is a local, on who is familiar with the law governing on renovations and buildings.
As I have read in articlealley.com, a registered contractor is basically registered to the Department of Business and Professional Regulation after attaining various competency requirements. It is possible that in certifications, they can only work within the stated jurisdiction. When employing, always look for their validity inclined to their license, experience, references, and other credentials. As much as possible find the former customers of the contractor for data as essential as to references can say all about their work and who trusts and endorses them.
When we look for a renovation contractor, one should be aware and be alert for owner-contractor matchmaking services that advertise their contractors as pre-screened, verified or certified with convincing licenses. They can be dishonest giving you a sense of painted security. One should know the difference between a certified and a registered contractor.
Always inquire for the duration of the project to complete and its prognosis. Ask for data regarding the contractor's workers as to where their scope would stick with. It is best to search for the previous renovation contractor's works to see of any aversion or contentment.
Get the best and most competent Renovation Contractors to perform your House Renovation from our site!
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Experience boutique style elegance in midtown Manhattan for a fraction of the price.
The rooms in this hotel really impress – the elegant boutique style coupled with a range of luxuries makes your stay in New York unforgettable. Enjoy the accessible, clean, spacious rooms that guarantees a great night's sleep. You can even use one of the cribs that the hotel provides if you happen to be staying with young children.
The fantastic rooms are only matched by the hotel itself. The hotel offers a Wifi connection for all guests – handy for sharing pictures of the city. The hotel also provides a top notch restaurant with great cuisine, with includes private dining for large groups, perfect for impressing clients. The hotel also has a brilliant health club, where guests can enjoy a moment of relaxation in the busy city, and a 24 hour gym!
When looking for things to do, we recommend you visit the Rockefeller center, the national landmark consisting of 19 commercial building between 5th and 6th avenue. The Rockefeller center represents a turning point in the history of architectural history, being one of the last building projects in the country to incorporate a program of integrated public art. Many people visit Radio city in the Rockefeller Center, an amazing entertainment venue home to many of the best music venues and awards. There's something for everyone is this great national landmark. For a fun day out, we also recommend you take a trip to Coney Island, a thriving entertainment destination where you can enjoy many different amusement parks and a seaside resort. This island is a perfect place to visit for a great family day out.
For a bite to eat in the evenings, find Colicchio and Sons Main Dining Room on 85 tenth avenue. This restaurant is ranked amongst the top in New York, and really is one of the best places to eat. The Chef offers only the finest dishes, all incorporating the best local ingredients. Some of the most popular dishes on the menu are the risotto with coddled egg, and the octopus and striped bass. This is definitely the place to visit for a dining experience like no other. But, for a quick bite to eat in the day visit Wafels & Dinges on 59th street and grab a delicious waffle to go, made right in front of your eyes. Choose from a selection of delicious toppings and prepare to cry after you've eaten it all!
For one of the best experiences of New York, book this hotel now.


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I am in desperately in need of a massage. I have a very painful muscle knot in my shoulder blade that's restricting my head movement. I woke up with a massive headache because of the pain radiating up my neck. Ouch! I'm working on stretching it out today to hopefully ease the pain. I blame the burpees. So glad my burpee challenge is done! Here's the recap of what I've been up to lately:
Thurs: HIIT class – not the best workout unfortunately, but at least got my day going. 100 burpees and the burpee challenge is DONE! Read about it here.
Fri: I had a stressful Thursday night for a variety of reasons, so I was late waking up on Friday morning. In my limited time, I warmed up, then did 2 rounds of the following just to get my heart rate up:
Sat: The weather was beautiful so I took the dog for a long walk. Later in the day, I headed to the gym to do three 15 minute AMRAPs:
Sun: much needed lazy rest day
Mon: Hot Vinyasa Yoga – this class was an absolute sweaty killer workout.
Tues: HIIT class. This class was a bunch of 4 minute AMRAPs, alternating between exercises. Ok workout.


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Oggi's Sports|Brewhouse|Pizza Takes Home Silver at the Great American Beer Festival®
SAN CLEMENTE, Calif., Oct. 11, 2017 /PRNewswire/ -- Oggi's Sports|Brewhouse|Pizza received a silver medal at the 2017 Great American Beer Festival (GABF) competition. Presented by the Brewers Association, GABF is the largest commercial beer competition in the world and recognizes the most outstanding beers produced in the United States. The top three winners in the competition's 98 beer-style categories were announced at the recent Great American Beer Festival awards ceremony held at the Colorado Convention Center in Denver, Colorado.
"When I received the news of our McGarvey's Scottish Ale earning a silver medal at the Great American Beer Festival this year, I was overwhelmed with excitement," said Vice President of Oggi's Sports|Brewhouse|Pizza, Estella Ferrera. "Being one of the founding breweries in the San Diego market back in 1995, the birthplace of the craft beer movement, and now proudly brewing in San Clemente, we have earned over 50 medals in international, national, and local competitions. After all of these years of brewing, we continue to be honored with medals like this confirming that Oggi's makes great beer that can be enjoyed in all of our restaurants!"
McGarvey's Scottish Ale is a rich, malty Scottish-style export ale brewed with small amounts of dark grains for color and flavor. By mashing it at a higher temperature the beer receives a hint of sweetness. A small amount of hops are used to keep the bitterness low. The GABF silver medal is the latest in a series of major awards for the brew including a Bronze Medal 2011 San Diego International Beer Competition; Bronze Medal 2011 L.A. County Fair; Gold Medal 2008 World Beer Cup; Gold Medal 2004 L.A. County Fair; and a Silver Medal 2007 San Diego Fair.
Enjoy a frosty pint of McGarvey's Scottish Ale at Oggi's locations throughout Southern California and Arizona.
About Oggi's Sports|Brewhouse|Pizza
Oggi's has 25 years of experience brewing craft beers, serving fresh and authentic pizza, and franchising. The successful sports-themed Oggi's Sports|Brewhouse|Pizza franchise has 16 full-service locations in California and Arizona. There is an Oggi's Pizza Express location at San Diego State University, which offers line-style ordering for affordable build-your-own-pizzas and handcrafted beer in a fast and casual setting. Oggi's is also known for their thoughtfully crafted selection of beers. Each location has ten original brews on tap at a time: eight regular beers plus one seasonal and one barrel-aged. The brewery has won more than 50 medals in international, national and regional beer competitions. For more information, including franchising for both concepts, visit www.Oggis.com. Connect with Oggi's on Facebook, Twitter and Instagram.
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SOURCE Oggi's Sports | Brewhouse | Pizza
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To: TEAM-IFPTE Local 161 Members
From: TEAM Office
Date: June 1, 2017
Re: Take-a-Break & United Way Fundraiser
Recognizing we are in a stressful time, TEAM-IFPTE Local 161 invites members to take a break next week and join us for a hot dog, drink and bag of chips, and to raise funds for United Way of Winnipeg. Click on a venue RSVP link to register your attendance. Please advise if you require a vegetarian hot dog.
Tuesday, June 6
11:30 a.m. – 2:00 p.m.
Picnic Park
Goldeyes Ballpark
RSVP here if attending at the Ball Park
Wednesday, June 7
11:30 a.m. – 1:30 p.m.
Corydon - Hugo Piazza
261 Hugo St. at Jessie Ave.
RSVP here if attending at the Corydon Hugo Piazza
Thursday, June 8
11:30 a.m. – 1:30 p.m.
365 Osborne St. parking lot
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Three hundred runs, fifteen wickets. What a perfect distraction test cricket is. Well worth having to be lashed to the heater for half an hour on my return to My Life in Cricket Scorecards Towers so as to mitigate the effects of a day in the teeth of the southerly "breeze", as we Wellingtonians choose to describe the blastfreezer wind that blights our lives.
The calendar said 3 January; the pitch said St Patrick's Day. No surprise that Angelo Mathews put New Zealand in. The toss is in international cricket in New Zealand is a meaningless formality, like asking if anybody at a wedding knows any reason why the bride and groom should not be married. This is because Brendon McCullum is, in his own words, "a useless tosser". He is Superman. He tosses a kryptonite coin.
Tom Latham looked by some way the more secure of New Zealand's opening pair, yet he was first out, playing at a short ball from Lakmal that he could have left alone. Hamish Rutherford scored 37 from 53 balls, but every shot is the closing scene of a soap opera, leaving you not knowing what will happen next.
Kane Williamson and Ross Taylor took New Zealand through to lunch, the verdancy of the pitch threatening more than it delivered. Is it my imagination, or is Ross Taylor getting more square on? Once or twice there he reminded me, and not in a good way, of the great CJ Tavaré, who would get full-chested against bouncy bowling.
After lunch, it was as if New Zealand's great year of 2014 had all been a dream. Taylor started it, playing on to Pradeep. That brought in Brendon McCullum, who had been given the keys to the city of Wellington by Mayor Celia Wade-Brown at lunchtime.
He was out first ball, swishing at Lakmal and playing on. I hesitate to say it, given McCullum's current place at Richie McCaw's right hand in the New Zealand sporting pantheon, but it was a God-awful shot to play first ball in a test match on a questionable surface.
Only 79 were added after that, and 26 of them were from proper shots by Bracewell and selected grotesqueness from Boult for the last wicket.
Sri Lanka certainly bowled better after lunch, pitching the ball up more and maintaining a stricter off-stump line, but the fact that New Zealand's three best batsmen all played on (Williamson did so too) is evidence that the pitch was not trustworthy.
In years gone by, the fragile local sporting psyche would have been plunged into gloom by these events, but the recent run of success meant that there was keen anticipation between innings at the prospect of Boult and Southee exploiting the conditions.
The breakthrough came in the ninth over when Karunaratne edged Boult to third slip.
Kumar Sangakkara was next in. Test cricket transcends partisanship, and I was hoping to see a great batsmen make a century. That Sangakkara is a great batsman is beyond question. Only Bradman has made more double hundreds and only him, Pollock, Sutcliffe and Headley, of batsmen who have played more than 20 tests, have done so with a higher average (the admirable Allen McLaughlin of Radio Sport is to be acknowledged as the source of this information).
The Basin crowd rose to its feet for Sangakkara when he passed 12,000 runs in tests, a touching and uplifting moment.
At the other end, Silva became the fourth batsman today to play on, and with delightful quirkiness. His forward defensive sent the ball spinning into the air well above his head. He turned just in time to watch it fall on top of the bails. It was Conan Doyle's Spedogue's Drifter come to life.
That was Doug Bracewell's first wicket on his return to the test team. He took two more before the close. Neil Wagner has reason to be disappointed to be dropped (not a term coaches use these days, but it's the truth) after a good performance in Christchurch, but it shows how intense competition for places has become. "Depth" and "New Zealand cricket" may now be deployed in the same sentence for purposes other than satire.
So New Zealand won the day. But we may still be blessed with a Sangakkara century tomorrow.
And, did I mention? 1953 Wisden, $20 from the Museum at lunchtime. Perfect day.


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About us
«Aeroflex» Medical Rehabilitation Center for more than 14 years, is a leader in Medical industry in Armenia. The center carries out and implements projects and techniques aimed at the timely diagnosis, disease prevention, and cleansing recovery of the body, normalizing functional integrity of the body as a physical (cardiovascular, musculoskeletal, respiratory, nervous system and metabolism) and emotional state.
«Aeroflex» Medical Rehabilitation Center promotes a healthy lifestyle, trains people of different ages, professions, employment, helping them to make their preservation and restoration of health more efficient. «Aeroflex» Center has developed its own set of recovery complex for the body through a combination of ancient breathing and physical exercises, and also the center uses the latest technologies and scientific know-how, combined modern techniques of physiotherapy, massage, kinesitherapy, SPA procedures, physiotherapy, and hardware detoxification of the body.
Thus, «Aeroflex» Medical Rehabilitation Center performes the following procedures:
- Respiratory exceptional therapeutic exercises
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- The newest hardware methods.