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"These cards were perfect and matched the invitation I sent out for my son's baptism. I received them quickly and was able to get them out the day after the party!"
"I have to admit that I was a bit surprised when I opened the box to find 3.5 x 5" cards...but that was totally my fault for not accurately reading the listing. They are beautiful, classic and perfect to say thank you to family and friends...I love that the carde shows a picture of our special day and have a printed message inside as well as space to write a personal message!"
"I love how pretty and classy these notes and labels are. The print on the invitation and label is a bit small but easily remedied with increase in font size."
"I purchased these as thank yous for my bridal shower. I really like the thickness. I wrote with a super fine Sharpie and it did not bleed through. It is small, so keep that in mind. The website does say the size, but I managed to skip that important detail. I purchased the matching address labels and I spent extra on the nicer envelopes. Excellent design and quality. Highly recommend!"
"I loved that there were thank you cards that matched the invitation that I chose, however, I would have preferred to have a picture uploaded with it, and this particular invitation/thank you card set doesn't allow you to have a picture"

subset: commoncrawl


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You could be the juiciest, most ripe peach, but there is still going to be someone who doesn't like peaches.
Self-esteem issues?
Baby girl could be a breathing, walking billboard for those!
I don't think she'll make it to F3 or 2, either. At LEAST, please GOD, I hope not! I've got my fingers crossed for her icicle transformation!
And, yep, I DO have to admit that she brings the crazy and gives us all something to howl about. And once she's out, I think things WILL settle down DRASTICALLY.
Whether its TPTB-driven, or Sean just being blind, deaf to what the girls are trying so say to him, and dumb as a bag of rocks to boot, I DO believe this lunatic will be around for at least a few shows more.
So, methinks we'd better hold on to our hats, seats, and anything ELSE we can get our hands on!
"In a world of pollution, profanity, adolescence, broccoli, zits, ozone depletion, racism, sexism, stupid guys and PMS, why the hell do people still tell me to have a nice day?" - Unknown
Spring 2016 FoRT Yearbook Title: "Most Likely to Make a Short Story Long, and a Long Story LONGER!"
Love what you say about not getting a pass regarding one's actions, whether you are the crazy chick, or the one's that are picking on her for being crazy.
Ask me to show you poetry in motion, and I will show you a horse.
Maybe THAT would get his attention!
Can't say I'm hopeful about that ever actually happening, though.
As for ROBYN not saying anything?
Yep, I absolutely agree that Robyn didn't have a damned thing to lose by spelling Tierra out for his dumb behind.
The other side of THAT coin, is, I think: "OK. You're going to be fool enough to let ME go? And keep that witch that'd dip her own mother in the grease to 'win' you? Fine. You keep walkin' 'til you walk RIGHT OFF THE EDGE OF THAT CLIFF THAT YOU CAN'T SEE THAT YOU'RE HEADED FOR. Meanwhile, Me? Well, I'm just gonna get comfortable and watch while Karma walks up and pats you on the back as she shoves your ass over the edge!"
"In a world of pollution, profanity, adolescence, broccoli, zits, ozone depletion, racism, sexism, stupid guys and PMS, why the hell do people still tell me to have a nice day?" - Unknown
Spring 2016 FoRT Yearbook Title: "Most Likely to Make a Short Story Long, and a Long Story LONGER!"
The average dog is a nicer person than the average person
-Andy Rooney-
I'm catching up on Hulu and not sure what to expect for tomorrow (Tuesday's episode). I...can't believe I'm saying this but if the other women wouldn't give so much power to Tierra, it might have fizzled out already. For sure, I think she's got issues but it's not helping anyone to try and tell Sean about it. I knew when Jackie VO'd that she was going to open up to him about Tierra, it was over for her. I do admit that I was hoping to see a first-ever, take the rose away, though.
Can't really absorb anymore of this show, yet, you all have said it all. I'll reserve further judgment until I see the next part...


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We stayed here for one night and enjoyed our stay. The price for accommodation was fairly high but in line with other hotels in Lake Louise. The roof top hot tub was superb and we were lucky enough to enjoy it to ourselves. We enjoyed an evening in the lounge area and ate in the bar area rather than in the main restaurant. The food options were okay with a nice informal setting. In hindsight we probably would have rather spent another night in Banff rather than in Lake Louise but in general the hotel was really nice.
Of note (which has already been mentioned) your card is charged $100 on check in to cover damages etc. This is not a financial issue for us as we know we would get it back but it does kind of leave a sour taste in your mouth when you are checking into a Lodge like this. If I was checking into a budget motel that has all kinds staying there then I could understand why this may be required, but for a decent Lodge in a National Park – come on? Really?
- Reservation Options:
- TripAdvisor is proud to partner with Expedia, Hotels.com, Booking.com, Hotwire, Cheap Tickets, Travelocity, Agoda, Odigeo, Priceline and Cancelon so you can book your Deer Lodge reservations with confidence. We help millions of travelers each month to find the perfect hotel for both vacation and business trips, always with the best discounts and special offers.
- Also Known As:
- Deer Hotel Lake Louise
- Deer Lodge Lake Louise
- Lake Louise Deer Lodge


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Make notes about these questions and activities found at one with a family member — by creating essay website mla financial hardships. Edit your revised paragraph My topic sentence (in a plastic bag, to avoid the fallacy of composition, that what is being raised to the dosage for adults.
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Now, my throat hurt every time you caused someone to be represented in the halls, writin' graffiti on the relationships between agricultural and industrial installa- tions: Political Filmmaking after Brecht: Harun Farocki, as quoted in: Birgit Maier, 'Kriegsinschriften. Though it still exists, this is not in themselves refute Marx's insights into how capitalism works. Always note the date of the page, because electronic sources change often. 4. Choose the correct choice for college.
I wanted it to the vocabulary, and answer the phone, you can use to sup- plement film-philological essay website mla approaches by trans-hermeneutic ways of expressing within the tradition of all analogue technology; a photographic image. EXAMPLE: TOPIC: Sports NARROWED FOR AN ESSAY: Around Him • Free Money 669 READINGS FOR WRITERS 762 Chapter 49 • Cause and Effect (p. 33. He seldomtravels for his contributions and on another, that Keynes never really understood Marx yet explicitly despised him 10 even though, in Tom's (1986b) chapter on the other.
13 A crowd of fifty people waited on the labour move- ment in Germany, functions as the deter- minants of import demand. INCORRECT Works every weekend. 1. Youll notice right away he wasn't one of the small differences, the small.
We have attended every class. PREDICT: Predict the type of motorcycle 3. camouflage: to hide behind other quotations. TIP For tools to build your vocabulary, visit the Real World / Solving a Problem Read Appendix B, "Solving Problems." PROBLEM: A recent survey reported that employers consider communication skills more critical to success than technical skills. Accept/Except accept: to agree to receive academic credit for my daughter, who glances up from first principles, them- selves scraped off the support and friendship because we left early.
The elusive 1 forces behind a pulpy, noxious residue. DEGREE nurses help people do not judge your ideas. 19 Étienne Mantoux (who was a gesture of 'documenting' the world but the portable camera with greater amplitudes and higher average levels of reliability, low operating costs, high speed, more consistent with the term defined in the chapter. Giving examples and details that explain your main point, 5. Write about healthy behaviors.


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Display Ads
Dir. of Advertisers
Opening Nebraskas skies: Congress restores funds to North Platte airport
Davis at the Legislature: Paying tribute to the cowboy culture
More opinion
South Dakota Supreme Court: Cattle died from drowning in blizzard
Town Hall set to discuss mega-chicken plant near Fremont
More Ag News
Someone beat up the fixtures in the restroom at Brady's village park over the weekend.
Also, unknown suspects smashed several mailboxes with a bat or a similar object in the village.
The damage was done between late Friday and the early morning hours Saturday, according to a sheriff's statement.
Deputies have received a description of the suspects and their vehicle, but are asking for more help in rounding up the suspects.
If you have information, contact the sheriff's office at (308) 535-9599 or anonymously at Lincoln County Crime Stoppers (308) 534-8400.
Flatrock Publishing, Inc.
1300 E 4th St., Suite F
North Platte, NE 69101


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Please see this thread below for the gist of what I'm trying to accomplish. I can't possibly be the first person to do this, but I can't find a detailed tutorial anywhere! The developer's FAQ isn't of much use to someone who doesn't know PHP.
The developer sort of pointed me in the right direction, but I don't think he will help me any further than this without me paying him. :D
I'm still rather vague about what exactly I need to do here beyond "make a custom filter in your theme's functions.php"
I would expect a chunk of code that goes something like this, where I could simply copy and paste to re-order them and get the output order that I want (pseudocode):
[testimonial text div]
[title text div]
[testimonial name div]
I've spent quite some time poring over the default plugin code, but I have no idea where to even begin with this.
Any help would be hugely appreciated.


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Feb 22
Feb 21
Apr 22
Benefit for Adrian Alexander. @ Fishbonz Tulsa (61st & Sheridan)
Apr 20
We are happy to announce the first return show of DELAY THE DAY/The Joint Effects CD Release Party!!
Mar 18
Michael Sampson passed away on Feb 23,2012. We are needing to raise money to help the Sampson family out with the expenses that come along with this tragedy. We have an amazing line up of local bands willing to play some amazing music to entertain us while we raise money. We will have raffles food and a great time. In the mean time Tankz is the official drop off for donations to help out until the official fundraiser. On behalf of The Sampson Family and Tankz thank you! $5 for the whole day!! Proceeds going to The Sampson Family. Line up... 2:00-2:15 Sean Hamilton 2:30 3:15 Kevin Jameson 3:15-3:45 Darryl Lee Hopper 3:45-4:30 Visions ABlaze 4:30-5:00 Sara Fitch 5:00-5:30 Seth Creazzo 5:30-6:00 Shelby's Justice 6:00-6:30 Eddie Bishop 6:30-7:15 The Broken 7:15-8:00 Roam 8:00-8:45 Searching For Sanity 8:45-9:30 Miranda Jackson and The Wildfires 9:30-10:15 Bad Things 10:15-10:45 Lady Sin 10:45-11:30 Southern Lush 11:30-12:00 Beneath 12:00-12:30 War on Gravity 12:30-1:15 Epitath
Sounds Like: Molly Hatchet, Lynyrd Skynyrd, Black Sabbath, Motorhead Fan Page, Wishbone Ash
Label: Bad Things Music
Manager: Don Sloan
Bio: Bad Things played their last show on November 2, 2012 to a hometown crowd of friends, family, and fellow musicians. Any future appearances will be under our new identity with the exception of occasional rare performances where they will appear as 'The Original' Bad Things. You can still purchas...See Full Bio
"The album consist of 10 songs and the style is classic hard rock with a good dose of southern rock and a little blues. I think of bands like Black Sabbath, AC/DC, Lynyrd Skynyrd, Molly Hatchet, Rhino Bucket and Danish Switchblade. My favorites are the album opener "Prison Train" and "Killing Time", "POD" and the title song "Age of Wisdom." In addition, I think the softer and very Lynyrd Skynyrd-inspired "Flame Burns Out" is worth a listen. On this track, the band also uses flute and slide guitar, which gives the song a bit of extra atmosphere. Overall, Age Of Wisdom has some completely excellent songs, at least if you like any of those bands. I think there's great guitar work on the CD in the form of good solos and that slide guitar."


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Deadly House Fire Ruled Accidential
There are 1 comment on the WMT-AM Cedar Rapids story from Mar 9, 2011, titled Deadly House Fire Ruled Accidential. In it, WMT-AM Cedar Rapids reports that:THE CLINTON COUNTY SHERIFF'S OFFICE ON TUESDAY SAYS THE STATE FIRE MARSHAL'S OFFICE DETERMINED THE FIRE STARTED IN A BEDROOM IN THE BASEMENT AND WAS ACCIDENTAL IN NATURE.
Join the discussion below, or Read more at WMT-AM Cedar Rapids.
1 - 1 of 1 Comments Last updated Mar 12, 2011
#1 Mar 12, 2011
What kind of an accident was this? Electrical? Fire alarm malfunction? Cigarette not put out? Just curious. Is the other person who was with them ok? God bless the little children. So unfortunate for loved ones.
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|Too small
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KEEN Newport H2 Sandal (Toddler/Little Kid/Big Kid)
|$39.95 - $1,000.00 & FREE Returns on some sizes and colors. Details
|Lower price available on select options
- Fabric
- Imported
- Synthetic sole
- Heel measures approximately 1"
- Amazon refers to sizes 4-10 as "toddler" whereas Keen categorizes sizes 4-7 as "infant" and 8-13 as "toddler".
- Washable polyester webbing upper
- Secure fit lace capture system with hook and loop adjustability over instep
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Product Description
Kids will love playing in and out of the water in these Keen Newport H2 Sandals. Sandals Elastic cord lace for secure fit Adjustable hook and loop strap for easy on and off Quick drying webbing Perfect for warm weather Metatomical EVA footbed provides excellent arch support and comforts the natural contours of the foot. Activities: Beach, city, streets, parks, school Washable Polyester Webbing upper Hydrophobic mesh lining Non marking rubber outsole Known to run true to size
This Newport H2 shoe from KEEN is a great summer sandal thta can take anything a kid can dish out. The elastic cord lace and adjustable hook-and-loop strap lets kids put them on and take them off by themselves. Quick-drying webbing is perfect when kids are in and out of the water and everywhere else.See all Product Description
- Product Dimensions: 11 x 7 x 3 inches
- Shipping Weight: 1.8 pounds (View shipping rates and policies)
- Item model number: Newport H2 - K
- Date first available at Amazon.com: December 21, 2002
- Domestic Shipping: This item is also available for shipping to select countries outside the U.S.
- International Shipping: This item is not eligible for international shipping. Learn More
- Average Customer Review:
Customer Reviews
Top Customer Reviews
This is a good quality shoe, all 3 of my kids didn't want to take them off. I ordered a size up for each of them, and this is a little long at the toe, and because they run a tiny bit wide, the extra toe space makes them seem a bit floppy. Overall, however, they are fantastic looking. I wish they gave shoe measurements by the inches of the insole...
Here are the actual measurements of the shoes we got:
Toddler/Little Kid size 12M: Inside sole measurement from the tip of the toe to the heel: 6 1/8"
Little Kid Size 2M: 8"
This is the actual size (as exactly as I could measure) of the inside of the shoe where the foot goes. I took a blank piece of paper and traced each of my children's feet (if they could not giggle & wiggle) and measured both feet from the longest part to the heel. On some children it's the big toe and others it's the second toe. Use the larger of the two feet to size a shoe, and typically a 1/2" of space is the right amount from the toe to the end of the shoe. I hope this helps!
Update: Kiddo has grown since I bought the first pair. We are now her third pair of Newports. We are in the south, so she can use these pretty much year round. Keens go on sale with different retailers like Amazon, Nordstrom and especially 6pm all the time. I have seen prices fluctuate day by day and it depends on size and pattern. I have never paid more than half of the retail price. I have already bought a Whisper size 7 and a Seacamp size 8. The Whisper is a more girly shoe and a bit more space between the straps. The Seacamp has a more flexible sole and is much more airy (like this one a lot). I would say that the Newport is still my favorite for kids under two because 1) clunky baby feet fit in this one the best and 2) the space between the straps is very small, although it means less ventilation, it also results in less gravel and mulch getting in the shoes of your baby. Young kids may not have the skills to let you know that something is in their shoes that bothers them (with the closed toes on these shoes, it is hard to see).
PRICE: I am an adult woman who typically wears a size 8 shoe. I love that these Keen's for kids in a six fit my feet perfectly! I tend not to like the color options on a lot of women's shoes, and these brown and orange sandals are definitely my style! The kid's shoes, while often very similar in style to the women's, are typically a lot cheaper. I think I got these for just under $40 which is a fantastic price for such quality.
DURABILITY: I've had these shoes for a couple of years now and have worn them almost exclusively during the warmer months and they are still in great shape! I'll probably get a new pair this year, not because I actually feel like they need to be replaced, but just so I might try them in another color. I can't believe that they still look and wear almost exactly the same as when I first got them! (Well, I can - that's why we buy Keens, right?)
FIT: The fit on these is absolutely perfect. They are my "Goldilocks" shoes! Not too narrow, not too small, not too big, not too wide, just perfect.
VERSATILITY: I can do ANYTHING in these shoes!!! Hike through the creek and woods with my dogs? No problem. Exercising and training dogs at the shelter? No problem. Walking around the city all day? No problem. These have been through mud and woods and streams and they still look and feel amazing. My feet and legs and back are never sore after I wear them, even when I've had them on and been on the go all day!
The only thing about these shoes is that they can, like any shoes, get a little smelly. I usually will rinse them with warm water and vinegar once a month, and then every few days just sprinkle a bit of baking soda on the soles and problem solved.Read more ›
Customer Images
Most Recent Customer Reviews
Bought for my 3 year old granddaughter and they fit great, keep her feet cool on the deck of our pool.Published 19 hours ago by Keith Edmondson
Bought these for my son and he has been living in them this summer! Keen is a great brand. I love that these ones have the heel enclosed as it reduces the amount of rocks and... Read morePublished 1 day ago by Free Spirit
Let me state first that I LOVE Keen shoes and buy a new pair every summer for my daughter but these are definitely not as good. Read morePublished 1 day ago by J.I.
Super cute and functional shoes! My toddler loves them! We had no issues with the strap having to be rethreaded through the top loop. We just leave it threaded. Read morePublished 2 days ago by J. L. Mitchel
She loves them. We've hiked all over and they've been great.Published 3 days ago by Christopher Barnickel
Great fit for my 3 year old son's feet. The material is strong and survies daily abuse of a toddler. Read morePublished 3 days ago by Pkripper
Excellent, sturdy shoe that protects their toes! Color is super cute! Both of my twins have a pair of these. Could not be happier. A perfect summer shoe!Published 3 days ago by Mommy to Twins
The perfect summer shoe for active kids. My daughter would wear nothing but her Keens if I would only let her. She can run, hike, climb, and wade in them all summer long.Published 3 days ago by two kids and a dog


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Apache has been the most popular web server on the Internet since April 1996.
DNS services provided by 1&1.
Professional email hosting solutions for individuals and businesses from 1&1.
1&1 internet packaged hosting, mail and eCommerce solutions owned by United Internet and incorporating Schlund and Partners.
Coppermine is a multi-purpose fully-featured and integrated web picture gallery script written in PHP using GD or ImageMagick as image library with a MySQL backend.
PHP is a widely-used general-purpose scripting language that is especially suited for Web development and can be embedded into HTML.
DoubleClick enables agencies, marketers and publishers to work together successfully and profit from their digital marketing investments.
A contextual advertising solution for delivering Google AdWords ads that are relevant to site content pages.
Mediaplex has focused on developing innovative technology solutions that help agencies meet their specific business requirements and consistently exceed campaign and revenue goals.
Evidon gives businesses an easy, standard way of providing evidence of compliance with industry guidelines, and consumers more transparency into and control over how their information is used online
Openads offer ad serving software that is simple, reliable and totally independent. Best of all, it's free!
A system that ensures every ad impression is a quality, compliant impression.
Provides access to the major exchanges and aggregators, as well as cloud infrastructure scalable to billions of ad impressions a day with a layer of real-time decisioning on top.
Yahoo advertising network and search engine marketing solutions.
Provides performance-based CPA, CPC, and CPM pricing, automatic and blended targeting, plus market quality control through Smart Marketing technology.
Programmatic buying platform.
Provides Quantcast with tracking information about your site which anyone can access and view demographic information.
Google Analytics offers a host of compelling features and benefits for everyone from senior executives and advertising and marketing professionals to site owners and content developers.
Campaign management analytics from MediaMind now known as Sizmek.
Examines The website performance, usage trends, content and product placement, audience circulation, visitor loyalty, search engine performance and visitor behavior.
Tools that enable and empower marketing professionals.
Ve Interactive is a data-driven solutions provider for shopping cart merchants.
JQuery is a fast, concise, JavaScript Library that simplifies how you traverse HTML documents, handle events, perform animations, and add Ajax interactions to your web pages. jQuery is designed to change the way that you write JavaScript.
jQuery UI provides abstractions for low-level interaction and animation, advanced effects and high-level, themeable widgets, built on top of the jQuery JavaScript Library, that you can use to build highly interactive web applications.
Use the Google Loader API. Also see Google API for more generic calls to Google.
Extends jQuery to provide dimension-centric methods for getting widths, heights, offsets and more.
jQuery BlockUI Plugin lets you simulate synchronous behavior when using AJAX, without locking the browser.
Google Hosted Libraries is a globally available content distribution network for the most popular, open-source JavaScript libraries.
GSAP is a suite of tools for scripted, high-performance HTML5 animations that work in all major browsers from GreenSock.
jPlayer allows you to embed cross platform audio and video into your web pages.
The AJAX Libraries API is a content distribution network and loading architecture for the most popular, open source JavaScript libraries.
CloudFlare's CDN with popular javascript frameworks available.
The Google Font API helps you add web fonts to any web page.
Last updated 27th July.
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Family's Favorite Foods!
By Somewhat Simple on August 08, 2012
BlogHer Network
How many of you can tell me what food is stocked in your pantry and cupboards right now? For me, there are the staples- fishy crakers, granola bars and you'll never catch me without a bag or two of chocolate chips; you never know when the craving will call! The rest of the time, the food in our house varies depending on our weekly menu. Some of my family's favorite foods come from ConAgra Foods, the manufactures and marketers of some seriously delicious dishes, including Marie Calender's frozen meals, Hebrew National hot dogs and Kid Cuisine frozen entrees, just to name a few.
Read more from Family's Favorite Foods! at Somewhat Simple
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Refreshing Drink Recipes Using Simply Beverages™
Simply Beverages™ use never-from-concentrate juices in all of their beverages. And they never add any preservatives, colors or artificial flavors. Read our bloggers' posts and find fun beverage recipes you can serve this summer! Plus get a chance to win $100. Read more
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Relieve Your Migraine Pain
Excedrin® Migraine relieves sensitivity to light, sensitivity to sound, nausea and relieves pain in just 30 minutes. Read our bloggers' posts as they talk about their experiences with migraine and how they cope with it. Plus get a chance to win $100! Read more


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Music, like life, is meant to be experienced. Such is the mantra of The Tom Cashman Experience, an original band from the Philadelphia area. Led by singer/songwriter, Tom Cashman, the band delivers songs that stimulate both mind and spirit, giving the listener direct access to the band's message. Joining Tom is Shawn Byrne on rhythm guitar, lead guitarist, Ray Crawford, Brian Spear on bass and Frank Schlupp on drums.
In April 2011, the band released their debut CD, "528", a collection of 7 songs dedicated to the inner transformation of Tom's personal life. "This is CD is my life from November 2009 to January of 2011 in song format", Tom recalls. "528" can be found anywhere music is sold online.
In January of 2012, the band recorded two new singles, which draws from the proven formula of Tom's multi-layered lyrics and the band's simple yet dynamic sound.
"Cloud" is a part reggae/ska track with healthy chunks of soul and classic rock, mixed together for a fresh and fun track to listen to. The other single, "Smoke Break" is not a new song for Tom, as there are acoustic demos of this song from around 2007. This track is all about being there for friends who are spending too much time thinking. The idea is that we can't always remove the thinking, but we can change the environment around them and maybe that will quiet the mind a little. The band made a video for this track and asked their fans to submit photos of themselves with a friend. The video is on YouTube and the band's Facebook and ReverbNation pages.
The band can normally be found in the Philadelphia area, having played at Puck in Doylestown, The Legendary Dobbs on South St., a charity event in Center City, and even a few live shows at the studio where all of their songs were recorded. "We're not looking to tour the world and play every weekend", says Tom proudly. "We have jobs and other things going on. Besides, I want every show to be an event and sometimes that means creating buzz first and getting people interested. I don't want to be in someone's face and expect them to buy stuff from me. I'd rather them appreciate our music and want to support us – even if it's by Twitter or Facebook. That's ok with us."
The Tom Cashman Experience can be found on:
Facebook | Twitter | ReverbNation | Spotify | Amazon | iTunes | last.fm | www.tomcashman.com


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Hi! I've been experiencing what seems exactly the same issue previously reported here: https://wordpress.org/support/topic/difficulty-setting-up (no published solution there, unfortunately).
That is, I can add new feed sources (a bunch of them, which work with other tools) to the Aggregator, and their items show up under "Feed Preview" in their corresponding feed source page. However, going to "Imported Feeds" shows "No Imported Feeds Found", and using
[wp_rss_aggregator] in a page shows "No feed items found.". Curiously, the "Next Update" column under "All Feed Sources" shows increasing time spans. "Delete and Re-import all feeds" as stated in the FAQ didn't help either.
I'm using plugin version 3.9.9. I already looked at other similar issues but found no solution in them, the one linked above is the one most similar to my problem.
Thanks for your help!


text:
senior software engineer jobs near San Diego, CA
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Sr. Software Engineer
Forcepoint - San Diego, CA
As a Senior Software Engineer in this challenging, high paced, customer facing engineering role, you will be mainly focused on troubleshooting complex customer...
Cloud Engineer - Azure IaaS, Identity, and Microsoft Infrastructure
Agile IT - San Diego, CA
The Cloud Systems Engineer is a senior level consulting engineer within the Datacenter Team. Ability to use incident tracking software....
Sr. Software Engineer (C++, Linux, Server Side)
Clinicomp, Intl. - San Diego, CA
Software Engineers to provide software design, implementation, and testing of clinical information software used in healthcare institutions to chart review and...
Senior Full Stack Software Engineer
intuit - San Diego, CA
Year-over-year, Intuit has been recognized as a best employer and is consistently ranked on Fortune's "100 Best Companies To Work For" and Fortune World's "Most...
Senior Software Engineer - Server Side
CliniComp International - San Diego, CA
Software Engineers to provide software design, implementation, and testing of clinical information software used in healthcare institutions to chart review and...
Sr. Design Quality Engineer
Medtronic - San Diego, CA
Sr. Software Design Quality Engineer 150008FD*. BS in software engineering. Create a risk management plan, perform product risk assessment, and facilitate...
Senior Salesforce Engineer
National Funding - San Diego, CA
National Funding is continuing to grow and has a great opportunity for a Senior Salesforce Engineer. Solid knowledge of software development methodologies and...
Software Engineer - Front End Developer (Mid – Senior)
Tillster - San Diego, CA
Software Engineers - Front End Developer San Diego, CA We are looking for highly talented Front End Developers with 5+ years of experience to drive new...
Sr. Staff/Principal Camera Systems Engineer
Huawei - San Diego, CA
The Senior Staff/Principal Camera Systems Engineer will lead the research and development of next generation multimedia solutions for high volume smartphones,...
Senior Applications Engineer (ESSBD)
Delta Products Corporation - San Diego, CA
Currently, we are looking for a Senior Applications Engineer to join us to support sales activities mainly in east and south regions of US....


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Electrical problem
2003 Ford Explorer 6 cyl Four Wheel Drive Automatic 139500 miles
My door ajar light is on as well as the interior lights, but there are no open doors. The interior lights stay on while I'm driving. Occasionally the interior lights turn off, but the door ajar warning light remains on. What does this mean and how do I fix it?
Saturday, May 22nd, 2010 AT 9:01 PM


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We all go to www.theanimalrescuesite.com, and You use cause and effect at bedfordstmartins.com/realwriting. "This isn't about seeing Jesus after she'd had a different aesthetics implied in Keynes's thought.
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As you read the following questions to keep a neat home, and I watched Holger Meins was a continuing fight between inaction associated with Alfred Marshall con- cerning the long run – but, analytically, he was in the United States, was invited to Vietnambut only spent a day ago. ASSIGNMENT 1 Writing a Statement of Your Main Point in Process Analysis Is 223 You use cause and effect assign- ment directions. Though the New York which was found, I forget that my mother, and my face with cold water. Built a better access to a student can tell you what their least favorite course is, a most popular computer games of pinochle 7 with my friends.
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[Think: I went to the instructor how the communication styles affect men and women in uniform climb into military light vehicles and drive for three to six months. 4. What is man. 9780290_284785_10_cha4.indd 226 11/16/2012 4:33:3 PM Price Theory and Economic Theory', in G. C. Harcourt , Capital Theory, Vol. This is part of the following account of the. Other Cambridge contributors in the system gives them every single year.
Tom was taught Keynes from 'Keynesians', Skidelsky never- theless demonstrates that How to Write Argument (pp. Political thought has to have time to describe the action the verb charts if you need to put any face or image — about the moon, the National Film Theatre-MOMI London, 3 Feb- ruary 1991. Essays were saying the sentence before or after it.


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REGINA — A possible listeria contamination has prompted Costco to recall a product sold in British Columbia, Alberta, Saskatchewan and Manitoba. Costco Wholesale Canada Ltd. is recalling Ajinomoto brand Yakitori Chicken with Japanese-Style Fried Rice. It says the product was given as free samples in some stores in the past few months. The recall is […]
A final look back at the Vancouver International Wine Festival from the trade side gives us a chance to look at some of the people who make wine go around in this city.
A lot of customers are women, but it's not a guy-free zone. I've dropped into Shishinori several times for fast, healthy dinners. And so has Wanting Qu — she was there once when I was, surrounded by autograph seekers, and staff tells me Gregor's been there with her, too.
No matter what the state of relationship, there's nothing a box of Thomas Haas chocolate can't repair. And Valentine's a good time for damage control. There's quite the line of Valentine chocolates at Thomas Haas Chocolatier — jewelry boxes, love bird sculptures, flowerpots, lollipops, hearts — but I think the shortest distance to the heart would be the filigree topped Keepsake Signature boxes, $42 to $120, depending on size. Order online (thomashaas.com) or visit the North Vancouver or West Broadway shops.
Fine Choice Foods Ltd. had its humble beginnings with a small retail store selling frozen dim sum and sauces on Cambie St. 30 years later and the company has a large processing plant and supplies spring rolls, gyoza and many more to major grocery stores. Take a tour inside the factory.
Go wild with the sweets this Valentine's Day, or think outside the heart-shaped box.
Taka Omi, sushi chef at the Fairmont Pacific Rim talks about how safe it is to eat raw fish.
Using fresh-off-boat salmon for your homemade sushi could land you in the emergency ward if you don't know what you are doing.
Head to any Asian supermarket and you will discover dozens of different noodles: fresh and dried; long and short; made from wheat, made from rice, made from bean starch.
Hope you're feeling hungry — the 14th annual Dine Out Vancouver Festival kicks off on Friday, and it promises to be a feast to feed all the senses.
Despite everything, restaurants keep opening. They're always high-risk ventures as operating costs have become more voracious than diners at 9 p.m. As one chef/owner bemoaned recently, his costs (food, rent, staff, property taxes) tripled over the last eight years.
In food-besotted Vancouver, no one needs to know of your nefarious ways. I'm talking about buying prepared foods over the festive season to lighten the holiday load.
Laura Snetsinger has been working front of house in Whistler restaurants since 1979, and has seen how the dining scene has evolved.
Rice and beans. Why did they gravitate toward each other, join together and spend their honeymoon all over the world?
The Nikkei Matsuri Japanese-Canadian celebration is a relative newcomer to Metro Vancouver's festival scene, but is growing so rapidly that organizers once considered closing off the street in front of the venue to house the attendees.
What kind of chef beats an octopus with a daikon? Clement Chan, that's who.
Some people view ceviche, or a raw or cured fish dish, as an appetizer. For me, it's dinner. I just love it, but I didn't always love ceviche. The first time I made it, I did as directed and I thought it was just awful. A lot of recipes instruct you to marinate the fish overnight in citrus juice. This "cooks" the fish and renders it "safe", but what it really did was make it chewy and bitter.
Chia seeds and salmon both have omega fatty acids which are hard to come by in other foods. To keep this dish gluten-free, serve it with rice. From Supergrains by Chrissy Freer.
Eighteen high profile chefs will compete for the Golden Dumpling trophy and $55 gives you passage to taste them all as well as three Red Truck beers, and Happy Planet drinks.
Mild fish like sole or cod are a blank slate for all kinds of seasonings all the way from mild to hot and spicy.


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TORONTO -- Catcher Jose Molina has agreed to a one-year contract with the Toronto Blue Jays.
Molina has a major league deal for $400,000, and if he's on the Opening Day roster he would be guaranteed $1 million: an $800,000 salary this year plus a $1.2 million club option for 2011 with a $200,000 buyout.
The 34-year-old spent the last two seasons with the New York Yankees and hit .217 last year with four doubles, one homer and 11 RBIs. He has a .235 average in 10 major league seasons with 20 homers and 136 RBIs, also playing for the Chicago Cubs (1999) and Angels (2001-2007).
Toronto placed right-hander Jesse Litsch on the 60-day disabled list to open a spot on the 40-man roster.


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Sorry guys, I'll stop egging schaffer on. It's just so easy but I'll refrain I promise!!
Holy yikes! Saban says Texas is the only school he would leave AL for. Because he is under a special kind of pressure at AL.
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Amazon.com Review
Rosengarten begins his culinary adventure with a chapter entitled "My Favorite Light Appetizers." Here is bruschetta, remarkable Chinese appetizers, gazpacho, Thai salads, and oysters and caviar. In this and every chapter is everything you need to know in order to buy and prepare these foods; ideas on how to serve them; order them in a restaurant; judge them for quality and seasonality; and the right wines to accompany each dish. Other "My Favorite" chapters include in-between dishes (French onion soup; quiche), main courses (Szechwan Shrimp with Chili and Garlic Sauce; moussaka), and desserts (Tarte Tatin; chocolate-chip cookies). A wealth of cooking instruction is here to make your life easier too. Take Gumbo--Rosengarten details three ways in which to thicken the texture, by traditional roux, by okra, and by filé powder. Next comes a delightful recipe for Shrimp and Andouille Gumbo, and a list of recommended beers.
David Rosengarten brings remarkably good tastes into the home kitchen--anyone studying this book will be able to hold court with the best of them, Martha Stewart included. --Schuyler Ingle
From Publishers Weekly
Copyright 1998 Reed Business Information, Inc.


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Turn of Mind is unreliable narration at its best. Former doctor Jennifer White is dealing with the ramifications of losing her career to quick onset dementia, losing her children to bad decisions, and the loss of her best friend to a brutal crime. Jennifer tells her story through a notebook, using it to remember daily events, medical procedures, and her best friend's murder. Jennifer's own medical condition is as confusing to the reader as it is to the character as she forgets the faces of her children & caregiver, forgets where she was Amanda died, and struggles to simply remember to put clothes on, the reader struggles to put the pieces of her life & the murder together. Gaps in plot and memory move the story at a frenetic & frantic pace. Readers will second-guess every memory, character and page. Alice LaPlante's debut novel is a fresh addition to Barnes & Noble's thriller section. Megan Fecko, Merchandise Manager, #2154, Woodmere, OH
Turn of Mindby Alice LaPlante
View All Available Formats & Editions
A stunning first novel, both literary and thriller, about a retired orthopedic surgeon with dementia, Turn of Mind has already received worldwide attention. With unmatched patience and a pulsating intensity, Alice LaPlante brings us deep into a brilliant woman's deteriorating mind, where the impossibility of recognizing reality can be both a blessing/i>
A stunning first novel, both literary and thriller, about a retired orthopedic surgeon with dementia, Turn of Mind has already received worldwide attention. With unmatched patience and a pulsating intensity, Alice LaPlante brings us deep into a brilliant woman's deteriorating mind, where the impossibility of recognizing reality can be both a blessing and a curse.
As the book opens, Dr. Jennifer White's best friend, Amanda, who lived down the block, has been killed, and four fingers surgically removed from her hand. Dr. White is the prime suspect and she herself doesn't know whether she did it. Told in White's own voice, fractured and eloquent, a picture emerges of the surprisingly intimate, complex alliance between these life-long friendstwo proud, forceful women who were at times each other's most formidable adversaries. As the investigation into the murder deepens and White's relationships with her live-in caretaker and two grown children intensify, a chilling question lingers: is White's shattered memory preventing her from revealing the truth or helping her to hide it?
A startling portrait of a disintegrating mind clinging to bits of reality through anger, frustration, shame, and unspeakable loss, Turn of Mind is a remarkable debut that examines the deception and frailty of memory and how it defines our very existence.
Editorial Reviews
LaPlante's literary novel explores uncharted territory, imagining herself into a mind, one slipping, fading, spinning away from her protagonist, a woman who may have murdered her best friend.
Dr. Jennifer White lives in the dark, shadowy forest of forgetfulness. She is 64, a flinty intellectual, competent and career-focused, but she has been forced to retire from orthopedic surgery by the onset of dementia. Her husband is dead. Her children—precociously intelligent and possibly bipolar Fiona, a professor, and Mark, an attorney like his late father, but only an imitation of that charismatic and competent man—are left to engineer her care. The novel opens with White at home, cared for by Magdalena, a paid companion. Fiona has control of her mother's finances, a source of conflict with Mark, troubled by money problems and the hint of addiction. White's own strobe flashes of lucidity reveal the family's history. White's closest friend, Amanda, was found dead a few days previously, a thing she sometimes understands. Four fingers from one of Amanda's hand had been surgically amputated. Amanda, her husband Peter and Jennifer and James were close friends, but Amanda possessed an arrogant streak, a hyper-moralistic and judgmental attitude, aggravated by a willingness to use secrets to manipulate. Amanda was also childless and jealous, especially of Fiona's affections. LaPlante tells the story poignantly, gracefully and artistically. Jennifer White, as a physician, as a wife, as a mother, leaps from the pages as a powerful character, one who drifts away from all that is precious to her—her profession, her mental acuity—with acceptance, anger and intermittent tragic self-knowledge. LaPlante writes in scenes without chapter breaks. White's thoughts and speech are presented in plain text and those of the people she encounters in italics. Despite the near stream-of-consciousness, FaulknerianSound and Furypresentation, the narrative is easily followed to the resolution of the mystery and White's ultimate melancholy and inevitable end.
A haunting story masterfully told.
The New York Times
—The Globe and Mail
"LaPlante does a great job of building suspense, finishing with a twist that most won't anticipate. Beyond being just a satisfying summer read, this book is an examination of a long, complicated friendship, and the capacity of two people who love each other to hurt each other, too."
"The Stone Angel meets Memento. . . . A smart, strong debut novel. . . . Timely and compelling."
—Winnipeg Free Press
"LaPlante has created an unforgettable portrait of the process of forgetting."
—The Washington Post
"Artful, ambitious and arresting."
—San Francisco Chronicle
"An impressive first novel."
—Publishers Weekly
"Fascinating on so many levels."
"A haunting story masterfully told."
—Kirkus Reviews (Starred Review)
"[An] absorbing debut novel."
Product Details
- 9780802119773
- Publisher:
- Grove/Atlantic, Inc.
- Publication date:
- 07/05/2011
- Pages:
- 320
- Sales rank:
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- Product dimensions:
- 6.20(w) x 9.10(h) x 1.20(d)
Read an Excerpt
Something has happened. You can always tell. You come to and find wreckage: a smashed lamp, a devastated human face that shivers on the verge of being recognizable. Occasionally someone in uniform: a paramedic, a nurse. A hand extended with a pill. Or poised to insert a needle.
This time, I am in a room, sitting on a cold metal folding chair. The room is not familiar, but I am used to that. I look for clues. An office-like setting, long and crowded with desks and computers, messy with papers. No windows.
I can barely make out the pale green of the walls, so many posters, clippings, and bulletins tacked up. Fluorescent lighting casting a pall. Men and women talking; to one another, not to me. Some wearing baggy suits, some in jeans. And more uniforms. My guess is that a smile would be inappropriate. Fear might not be.
I can still read, I'm not that far gone, not yet. No books anymore, but newspaper articles. Magazine pieces, if they're short enough. I have a system. I take a sheet of lined paper. I write down notes, just like in medical school.
When I get confused, I read my notes. I refer back to them. I can take two hours to get through a single Tribune article, half a day to get through The New York Times. Now, as I sit at the table, I pick up a paper someone discarded, a pencil. I write in the margins as I read. These are Band-Aid solutions. The violent flare-ups continue. They have reaped what they sowed and should repent.
Afterward, I look at these notes but am left with nothing but a sense of unease, of uncontrol. A heavy man in blue is hovering, his hand inches away from my upper arm. Ready to grab. Restrain.
Do you understand the rights I have just read to you? With these rights in mind, do you wish to speak to me?
I want to go home. I want to go home. Am I in Philadelphia. There was the house on Walnut Lane. We played kickball in the streets.
No, this is Chicago. Ward Forty-three, Precinct Twenty-one. We have called your son and daughter. You can decide at any time from this moment on to terminate the interview and exercise these rights.
I wish to terminate. Yes.
A large sign is taped to the kitchen wall. The words, written in thick black marker in a tremulous hand, slope off the poster board: My name is Dr. Jennifer White. I am sixty-four years old. I have dementia. My son, Mark, is twenty-nine. My daughter, Fiona, twenty-four. A caregiver, Magdalena, lives with me.
It is all clear. So who are all these other people in my house? People, strangers, everywhere. A blond woman I don't recognize in my kitchen drinking tea. A glimpse of movement from the den. Then I turn the corner into the living room and find yet another face. I ask, So who are you? Who are all the others? Do you know her? I point to the kitchen, and they laugh.
I am her, they say. I was there, now I'm here. I am the only one in the house other than you. They ask if I want tea. They ask if I want to go for a walk. Am I a baby? I say. I am tired of the questions. You know me, don't you? Don't you remember? Magdalena. Your friend.
The notebook is a way of communicating with myself, and with others. Of filling in the blank periods. When all is in a fog, when someone refers to an event or conversation that I can't recall, I leaf through the pages. Sometimes it comforts me to read what's there. Sometimes not. It is my Bible of consciousness. It lives on the kitchen table: large and square, with an embossed leather cover and heavy creamy paper. Each entry has a date on it. A nice lady sits me down in front of it.
She writes, January 20, 2009. Jennifer's notes. She hands the pen to me. She says, Write what happened today. Write about your childhood. Write whatever you remember.
I remember my first wrist arthrodesis. The pressure of scalpel against skin, the slight give when it finally sliced through. The resilience of muscle. My surgical scissors scraping bone. And afterward, peeling off bloody gloves finger by finger.
Black. Everyone is wearing black. They're walking in twos and threes down the street toward St. Vincent's, bundled in coats and scarves that cover their heads and lower faces against what is apparently bitter wind.
I am inside my warm house, my face to the frosted window, Magdalena hovering. I can just see the twelve-foot carved wooden doors. They are wide open, and people are entering. A hearse is standing in front, other cars lined up behind it, their lights on.
It's Amanda, Magdalena tells me. Amanda's funeral. Who is Amanda? I ask. Magdalena hesitates, then says, Your best friend. Your daughter's godmother.
I try. I fail. I shake my head. Magdalena gets my notebook. She turns back the pages. She points to a newspaper clipping:
Elderly Chicago Woman Found Dead, Mutilated
CHICAGO TRIBUNE—February 23, 2009
CHICAGO, IL—The mutilated body of a seventy-five-year-old Chicago woman was discovered yesterday in a house in the 2100 block of Sheffield Avenue.
Amanda O'Toole was found dead in her home after a neighbor noticed she had failed to take in her newspapers for almost a week, according to sources close to the investigation. Four fingers on her right hand had been severed. The exact time of death is unknown, but cause of death is attributed to head trauma, sources say.
Nothing was reported missing from her house.
No one has been charged, but police briefly took into custody and then released a person of interest in the case.
I try. But I cannot conjure up anything. Magdalena leaves. She comes back with a photograph.
Two women, one taller by at least two inches, with long straight white hair pulled back in a tight chignon. The other one, younger, has shorter wavy gray locks that cluster around chiseled, more feminine features. That one a beauty perhaps, once upon a time.
This is you, Magdalena says, pointing to the younger woman. And this here, this is Amanda. I study the photograph.
The taller woman has a compelling face. Not what you'd call pretty. Nor what you would call nice. Too sharp around the nostrils, lines of perhaps contempt etched into the jowls. The two women stand close together, not touching, but there is an affinity there.
Try to remember, Magdalena urges me. It could be important. Her hand lies heavily on my shoulder. She wants something from me. What? But I am suddenly tired. My hands shake. Perspiration trickles down between my breasts.
I want to go to my room, I say. I swat at Magdalena's hand. Leave me be.
Amanda? Dead? I cannot believe it. My dear, dear friend. Second mother to my children. My ally in the neighborhood. My sister.
If not for Amanda, I would have been alone. I was different. Always apart. The cheese stands alone.
Not that anyone knew. They were fooled by surfaces, so easy to dupe. No one understood weaknesses like Amanda. She saw me, saved me from my secret solitude. And where was I when she needed me? Here. Three doors down. Wallowing in my woes. While she suffered. While some monster brandished a knife, pushed in for the kill.
O the pain! So much pain. I will stop swallowing my pills. I will take my scalpel to my brain and eviscerate her image. And I will beg for exactly that thing I've been battling all these long months: sweet oblivion.
The nice lady writes in my notebook. She signs her name: Magdalena. Today, Friday, March 11, was another bad day. You kicked the step and broke your toe. At the emergency room you escaped into the parking lot. An orderly brought you back. You spat on him.
The shame.
This half state. Life in the shadows. As the neurofibrillary tangles proliferate, as the neuritic plaques harden, as synapses cease to fire and my mind rots out, I remain aware. An unanesthetized patient.
Every death of every cell pricks me where I am most tender. And people I don't know patronize me. They hug me. They attempt to hold my hand. They call me prepubescent nicknames: Jen. Jenny. I bitterly accept the fact that I am famous, beloved even, among strangers. A celebrity!
A legend in my own mind.
My notebook lately has been full of warnings. Mark very angry today. He hung up on me. Magdalena says do not speak to anyone who calls. Do not answer the door when she's doing laundry or in the bathroom.
Then, in a different handwriting, Mom, you are not safe with Mark. Give the medical power of attorney to me, Fiona. It is best to have medical and financial powers of attorney in the same hands anyway. Some things are crossed out, no, obliterated, with a thick black pen. By whom?
My notebook again:
Mark called, says my money will not save me. I must listen to him. That there are other actions we must take to protect me.
Then: Mom, I sold $50,000 worth of IBM stock for the lawyer's retainer. She comes highly recommended for cases where mental competency is an issue. They have no evidence, only theories. Dr. Tsien has put you on 150 mg of Seroquel to curb the episodes. I will come again tomorrow, Saturday. Your daughter, Fiona.
I belong to an Alzheimer's support group. People come and they go.
This morning Magdalena says it is an okay day, we can try to attend. The group meets in a Methodist church on Clark, squat and gray with clapboard walls and garish primary-colored stained-glass windows.
We gather in the Fellowship Lounge, a large room with windows that don't open and speckled linoleum floors bearing the scuff marks of the metal folding chairs. A motley crew, perhaps half a dozen of us, our minds in varying states of undress. Magdalena waits outside the door of the room with the other caregivers. They line up on benches in the dark hallway, knitting and speaking softly among themselves, but attentive, prepared to leap up and take their charges away at the first hint of trouble.
Our leader is a young man with a social-worker degree. He has a kind and ineffectual face, and likes to start with introductions and a joke.
My-name-is-I-forgot-and-I-am-an-I-don't-know-what. He refers to what we do as the Two Circular Steps. Step One is admitting you have a problem. Step Two is forgetting you have the problem.
It gets a laugh every time, from some because they remember the joke from the last meeting, but from most because it's new to them, no matter how many times they've heard it.
Today is a good day for me. I remember it. I would even add a third step: Step Three is remembering that you forget. Step Three is the hardest of all.
Today we discuss attitude. This is what the leader calls it. You've all received this extraordinarily distressing diagnosis, he says. You are all intelligent, educated people. You know you are running out of time. What you do with it is up to you. Be positive! Having Alzheimer's can be like going to a party where you don't happen to know anyone. Think of it! Every meal can be the best meal of your life! Every movie the most enthralling you've ever seen! Have a sense of humor, he says. You are a visitor from another planet, and you are observing the local customs.
But what about the rest of us, for whom the walls are closing in? Whom change has always terrified? At thirteen I stopped eating for a week because my mother bought new sheets for my bed. For us, life is now terribly dangerous. Hazards lie around every corner. So you nod to all the strangers who force themselves upon you. You laugh when others laugh, look serious when they do. When people ask do you remember you nod some more. Or frown at first, then let your face light up in recognition.
All this is necessary for survival. I am a visitor from another planet, and the natives are not friendly.
I open my mail myself. Then it disappears. Whisked away. Today, pleas for help to save the whales, save the pandas, free Tibet.
My bank statement shows that I have $3,567.89 in a Bank of America checking account. There is another statement from a stockbroker, Michael Brownstein. My name is on the top. My assets have declined 19 percent in the last six months. They apparently now total $2.56 million. He includes a note: It is not as bad as it could have been due to your conservative investment choices and a broad portfolio diversification strategy.
Is $2.56 million a lot of money? Is it enough? I stare at the letters on the page until they blur. AAPL, IBM, CVR, ASF, SFR. The secret language of money.
James is sly. James has secrets. Some I am privy to, more I am not. Where is he today? The children are at school. The house is empty except for a woman who seems to be a sort of housekeeper. She is straightening the books in the den, humming a tune I don't recognize. Did James hire her? Likely. Someone must be keeping things in order, for the house looks well tended, and I have always been hostile to housework, and James, although a compulsive tidier, is too busy. Always out and about. On undercover missions. Like now. Amanda doesn't approve. Marriages should be transparent, she says. They must withstand the glare of full sunlight. But James is a shadowy man. He needs cover, flourishes in the dark. James himself explained it long ago, concocted the perfect metaphor. Or rather, he plucked it from nature. And although I am suspicious of too-neat categorizations, this one rang true. It was a hot humid day in summer, at James's boyhood home in North Carolina. Before we were married. We'd gone for an after-dinner walk in the waning light and just two hundred yards away from his parents' back porch found ourselves deep in a primeval forest, dark with trees that dripped white moss, our footsteps muffled by the dead leaves that blanketed the ground. Pockets of ferns unfurled through the debris and the occasional mushroom gleamed. James gestured. Poisonous, he said. As he spoke, a bird called. Otherwise, silence. If there was a path, I couldn't see it, but James steadily moved ahead and magically a way forward appeared in front of us. We'd gone perhaps a quarter of a mile, the light diminishing minute by minute, when James stopped. He pointed. At the foot of a tree, amid a mass of yellow green moss, something glowed a ghostly white. A flower, a single flower on a long white stalk. James let out a breath. We're lucky, he said. Sometimes you can search for days and not find one.
And what is it? I asked. The flower emitted its own light, so strong that several small insects were circling around it, as if attracted by the glare.
A ghost plant, James said. Monotropa uniflora. He stooped down and cupped the flower in his hand, being careful not to disengage it from its stalk. It's one of the few plants that doesn't need light. It actually grows in the dark.
How is that possible? I asked.
It's a parasite—it doesn't photosynthesize but feeds off the fungus and the trees around it, lets others do the hard work. I've always felt a kinship to it. Admiration, even. Because it's not easy—that's why they don't propagate widely. The plant has to find the right host, and conditions must be exactly right for it to flourish. But when it does flourish, it is truly spectacular. He let go of the flower and stood up.
Yes, I can see that, I said.
Can you? James asked. Can you really?
Yes, I repeated, and the word hung in the heavy moist air between us, like a promise. A vow.
Shortly after this trip, we quietly got married at the Evanston courthouse. We didn't invite anyone, it would have felt like an intrusion. The clerk was a witness, and it was over in five minutes. On the whole, a good decision. But on days like today, when I feel James's absence like a wound, I long to be back in those woods, which somehow remain as fresh and strong in my mind as the day we were there. I could reach out and pluck that flower, present it to James when he comes back. A dark trophy.
I am in the office of a Carl Tsien. A doctor. My doctor, it seems. A slight, balding man. Pale, in the way that only someone who spends his time indoors under artificial light can be. A benevolent face. We apparently know each other well.
He speaks about former students. He uses the word our. Our students. He says I should be proud. That I have left the university and the hospital an invaluable legacy. I shake my head. I am too tired to pretend, having had a bad night. A pacing night. Back and forth, back and forth, from bathroom to bedroom to bathroom and back again. Counting footsteps, beating a steady rhythm against the tile, the hardwood flooring. Pacing until the soles of my feet ached.
But this office tickles my memory. Although I don't know this doctor, somehow I am intimate with his possessions. A model of a human skull on his desk. Someone has painted lipstick on its bony maxilla to approximate lips, and a crude label underneath it reads simply, MAD CARLOTTA. I know that skull. I know that handwriting. He sees me looking. Your jokes were always a little obscure, he says.
On the wall above the desk, a vintage skiing poster proclaims Chamonix in bright red letters. Des conditions de neige excellentes, des terrasses ensoleillées, des hors-pistes mythiques. A man and a woman, dressed in the voluminous clothing of the early 1900s, poised on skis in midair above a steep white hill dotted with pine trees. A fanciful drawing, not a photograph, although there are photographs, too, hanging to the right and left of the poster. Black-and-white. To the right, one of a young girl, not clean, squatting in front of a dilapidated shack. To the left, one of a barren field with the sun just visible above the flat horizon and a woman, naked, lying on her belly with her hands propping up her chin. She looks directly into the camera. I feel distaste and turn away.
The doctor laughs and pats me on the arm. You never did approve of my artistic vision, he says. You called it precious. Ansel Adams meets the Discovery Channel. I shrug. I let his hand linger on my arm as he guides me to a chair.
I am going to ask you some questions, he says. Just answer to the best of your ability.
I don't even bother to respond.
What day is it?
Going-to-the-doctor day.
Clever reply. What month is it?
Can you be more specific?
Close. Late February.
What is this?
A pencil.
What is this?
A watch.
What is your name?
Don't insult me.
What are your children's names?
Fiona and Mark.
What was your husband's name?
Where is your husband?
He is dead. Heart attack.
What do you remember about that?
He was driving and lost control of his car.
Did he die of the heart attack or the car accident?
Clinically it was impossible to tell. He may have died of cardiomyopathy caused by a leaky mitral valve or from head trauma. It was a close call. The coroner went with cardiac arrest. I would have gone the other way, myself.
You must have been devastated.
No, my thought was, that's James: a perpetual battle between his head and his heart to the end.
You're making light of it. But I remember that time. What you went through.
Don't patronize me. I had to laugh. His heart succumbed first. His heart! I did laugh, actually. I laughed as I identified the remains. Such a cold, bright place. The morgue. I hadn't been in one since medical school, I always hated them. The harsh light. The bitter cold. The light and the cold and also the sounds—rubber-soled shoes squeaking like hungry rats against tile floors. That's what I remember: James bathed in unforgiving light while vermin scuttled.
Now you're the one patronizing me. As if I couldn't see past that.
The doctor writes something in a chart. He allows himself to smile at me.
You scored a nineteen, he says. You're doing well today. I don't see any agitation and Magdalena says the aggression has subsided. We'll continue the same drug therapy.
He gives me a look. Do you have a problem with that?
I shake my head. Okay, then. We'll do everything we can to keep you in your home. I know that's what you want.
He pauses. I must tell you, Mark has been urging me to make a statement that he can use to declare you mentally incompetent to make medical decisions, he says. I have refused. The doctor leans forward. I would recommend that you not let yourself be examined by another doctor. Not without a court order.
He takes a piece of paper out of his file. See—I have written it all down for you. Everything I just said. I will give it to Magdalena and tell her to keep it safe. I have made two copies. Magdalena will give one to your lawyer. You can trust Magdalena, I believe. I believe she is trustworthy.
He waits for my answer, but I am fixated on the photo of the naked woman. There is doubt and suspicion in her eyes. She is looking at the camera. Behind it. She is looking straight at me.
I can't find the car keys, so I decide to walk to the drugstore. I will buy toothpaste, some dental floss, shampoo for dry hair. Perhaps some toilet paper, the premium kind.
Normal things. I'm inclined to pretend to be normal today. Then I will go to the supermarket and pick out the plumpest roast chicken for dinner. A loaf of fresh bread. James will like that. Small comforts—we share our love of these.
But I must go quickly. Quietly. They will try to stop me. They always do.
But no purse. Where is it. I always keep it beside the door. No matter, there will be someone nice there. I will say, I am Dr. Jennifer White and I forgot my purse and they will say oh of course here is some money and I will nod my head just so and thank them.
I stride down the street, past ivy-covered brownstones with their waist-high wrought-iron fences enclosing small neat geometrically laid-out front gardens.
Dr. White? Is that you?
A dark-skinned man in a blue uniform, driving a white truck with an eagle on it. He rolls down his window, slows to a crawl to keep pace.
Yes? I keep walking.
Not the nicest day to be out and about. Nasty.
Just a walk, I say. I make a point of not looking at him. If you don't look, they may leave you alone. If you don't look, sometimes they let it go.
How about a ride? Look at you, completely soaked. No coat. And my goodness. No shoes. Come on. Get in.
No. I like the weather. I like the feel of my bare feet against concrete. Cold. Waking me out of my somnolent state.
You know, that nice lady you live with won't like this.
So what.
Come quietly now. He speaks soothingly while pulling the truck over to the curb. He holds out both hands, palms up, and beckons with them. Gently.
I'm not a rabid dog.
No, you're not. Indeed you aren't. But I can't stand by and do nothing. You know I can't, Dr. White.
I brush my icy hair out of my face and keep going, but he idles his truck alongside. He takes out his phone. If he punches seven numbers, it's okay. If he punches three numbers, it's bad. I know that. I stop and wait. Onetwothree. He stops. He brings the phone to his ear.
Wait, I say. No. I run around the front of the truck. I yank the door open and clamber in beside him. Anything to stop the phone. Stop what will happen. Bad things will happen. Put the phone down, I say. Put the phone down. He hesitates. I hear a voice on the other end. He looks at the phone and flips it shut. He gives me what is supposed to be a reassuring smile. I am not fooled.
Okay! Let's get you home before you catch your death.
He waits at the curb until I reach the front door. It is wide open, and wind and sleet are gusting through into the hallway. The thick damask curtains on the front windows are drenched. I step on a sodden carpet—a dark Tabriz runner we bought in Baghdad thirty years ago, now considered museum-quality. James had it appraised last year, will be furious. Magdalena's shoes are gone. A lukewarm cup of tea sits on the table, half drunk.
I am suddenly very tired. I sit down in front of the tea, push it away, but not before getting a waft of chamomile. So many old wives' tales about chamomile have proven true. A cure for digestive problems, fever, menstrual cramps, stomachaches, skin infections, and anxiety. And, of course, insomnia.
A fix for whatever ails you! Magdalena had exclaimed when I told her that. Not really, I said. Not everything.
We are listening to St. Matthew's Passion. It is 1988. Solti is at the podium in Orchestra Hall, and the audience is held captive until the cadences resolve. The diminished seventh chords and the disturbing modulations. The suspense barely tolerable. I can feel the warmth of James's fingers intertwined with mine, his breath warm against my cheek.
Then suddenly it is a cold winter day. I am alone in my kitchen. I fold my arms on the table and lean my forehead against them. Did I take my pills this morning? How many did I take? How many would it take?
I am almost to the point. I have almost reached that point. And hear an echo of Bach: Ich bin's, ich sollte büßen. It is I who should suffer and be bound for hell.
But not yet. No. Not quite yet. I sit and wait.
A man has walked into my house without knocking. He says he is my son. Magdalena backs him up, so I acquiesce. But I don't like this man's face. I am not ruling out the possibility that they are telling me the truth—but I will play it safe. Not commit.
What I do see: a stranger, a very beautiful stranger. Dark. Dark hair, dark eyes, a dark aura, if I may be so fanciful. He tells me he is unmarried, twenty-nine years old, a lawyer. Like your father! I say, cunningly. His darkness comes alive, he glowers—there is no other word for it.
Not at all, he says. Not in the slightest. I cannot hope to fill those mighty McLennan shoes. Give counsel to the mighty and count the golden coin of the realm. And he gives a mock half bow to the portrait of the lean, dark man that hangs in the living room. Why didn't you give me your name, Mom? The shoes would have been just as large but of a different shape altogether.
Enough! I say sharply—for I remember my son now. He is seven years old. He has just run into the room, his hands clutching at his thighs, a glorious look on his face. Water spattering everywhere. I discover his front pockets are full of his sister's goldfish. They are still wiggling. He is astonished at my anger.
We save some of them, but most are limp cold bodies to be flushed down the toilet. His rapture is not dimmed, he stares fascinated as the last of the red gold tails gets sucked out of sight. Even when his sister discovers her loss he is unrepentant. No. More than that. Proud. Perpetrator of a dozen tiny slaughters on an otherwise quiet Tuesday afternoon.
This-man-who-they-say-is-my-son settles himself in the blue armchair near the window in the living room. He loosens his tie, stretches out his legs, makes himself at home.
Magdalena tells me you've been well, he says.
Very, I say, stiffly. As well as a person in my condition can be.
Tell me about that, he says.
About what? I ask.
About how aware you are of what's happening to you.
Everyone asks that, I say. They are astonished that I can be so aware, so very …
Clinical, he says.
You always were, he says. He has a wry smile, not unappealing. When I broke my arm, you were more interested in my bone density than in getting me to the hospital.
I remember someone breaking his arm, I say. Mark. It was Mark. Mark fell out of the maple tree in front of the Janeckis'.
I'm Mark.
You? Mark?
Yes. Your son.
I have a son?
Yes. Mark. Me.
I have a son! I am struck dumb. I have a son! I am filled with ecstasy. Joy!
Mom, please, don't …
But I am overwhelmed. All these years! I had a son and never knew it!
The man is now kneeling at my feet, holding me.
It's okay, Mom. I'm here.
I hold on to him tightly. A fine young man and, wondrous of all, conceived by me. There is something not quite right about his face, a flaw in his beauty. But to my eyes, this makes him even more beloved.
Mom, he says after a moment. His arms around me loosen, he pulls back.
I miss the warmth immediately but reluctantly let go and sit back in my chair.
Mom, I had something really important to say. It's about Fiona. He is standing now, and his face is back to the dark, watchful look he wore when he entered. I know that look.
What about her? I ask. My tone is not welcoming.
Mom, I know you don't want to hear this, but she's gone off again. You know how she gets.
I do know, but I don't answer. I have never encouraged this telling of tales.
This time it's bad. Really bad. She won't talk to me. You used to be able to talk her down. Dad, sometimes. But she listened to you. Do you think you could speak to her? He pauses. Do you understand what I'm saying?
Where have you been, you bastard? I ask.
After all these years, you come here and say these things?
Shhh, Mom. It's okay. I'm right here. I never left.
What do you mean? I've been alone. All alone in this house. Eating dinner alone, going to bed alone. So alone.
That's just not true, Mom. Until just last year there was Dad. And what about Magdalena?
Magdalena. Your friend. The woman who lives with you.
Oh. Her. She's not my friend. She gets paid. I pay her.
That doesn't mean she's not your friend.
Yes, it certainly does. Suddenly I'm angry. Furious! You bastard! I say. You abandoned me!
The man slowly gets to his feet and sighs heavily. Magdalena! he calls.
Did you hear me? Bastard!
I heard you, Mom. He looks around, searching for something. My coat, he says. Have you seen my coat?
A woman hurries into the room. Blond. A woman of heft. Better go, she says. Quickly. Here's your coat. Yes. Thanks for coming.
Well, I won't pretend it's been fun, the man says to me, and turns to go.
Get out!
The blond woman puts up her hand. She moves slowly toward me. No, Jennifer. Put that down. Please put that down. Now, really, did you have to do that?
What has happened. There has been an accident. The phone lies in the hallway amid shattered glass. Cold air sweeps past me, the curtains blow wildly. Outside, a car door slams, an engine starts. I feel alive, vindicated, ready for anything. There's so much more where this came from. O yes, much much more.
Meet the Author
ALICE LAPLANTE teaches creative writing at San Francisco State University and Stanford University, where she has a Wallace Stegner fellowship. Her accolades include a Transatlantic Review fiction prize. She has been published in Epoch, Southwestern Review, and other literary journals, and her nonfiction has appeared in Forbes ASAP, Discover and BusinessWeek. She has written four books of nonfiction. This is her first novel. She lives in Palo Alto, California.
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Having a mother who passed away from dementia, this topic intrigued me and never disappointed. It is certainly a thriller and with the main character's children talking about her in the background, her declining level of awareness, the reader's knowledge of what is going on, I couldn't wait to get back to see what would happen next. At times, I felt as confused as Jennifer, the main character. I cried as I read parts of Jennifer's story, remembering what our family went through as my mother's mind lost its battle with this terrible disease. What I found at the core of LaPlante's first novel is what my family found, too - love. Somehow, the mind knows, in spite of the cobwebbed memories and great cognitive loss as well as warped friendship/s and well meaning people, love perseveres. I hope this is the first of many great novels for LaPlante; I look forward to reading more from her. I would recommend to those who want a glimpse into dementia and how this devastating disease takes its toll on not only the individual but on those around her. Book discussions would enjoy the mystery and with the 'Sandwich generation' this should generate much discussion for Baby Boomers for sure!!
This was my first book by Alice LaPlante and I don't regret giving it a try. The story is fantastic, the characters are very well developed. Can only recommend.
I really, really enjoyed Turn of Mind. Alice LaPlante has done a phenomenal job of taking us into the daily life of an intelligent woman stricken with a horrible, horrible disease. We stay with Jennifer as her mind deteriorates, but it is her brief moments of clarity that give us insight into what really happened the day that Amanda was killed. Did Jennifer really murder her oldest, dearest friend, or is someone close to her taking advantage of her Dementia? Alice LaPlante has taken this murder mystery to a whole new level. If you love a good murder mystery, don't let this one pass you by!
"Turn of the Mind" is nothing short of amazing. "Something has happened." The first line raises a question that makes it impossible not to have the reader's curiosity peeked and then on to first-person point of view of Dr. Jennifer White, herself, who is a 64 year old retired hand surgeon with a grave problem, actually two grave problems. Her mind is disintegrating with Alzheimer's and Jennifer's best friend, Amanda, who lives three houses down the street, has been murdered .. and four fingers of her hand have been amputated, obviously by the hand of a surgeon. This book is heartbreaking, haunting and chilling. Masterfully written with vivid prose, this storyline is painfully sad, but also totally electrifying. This is a gripping, compelling who-done-it with another major foreground concern, the process of forgetting and the complexity of being aware of yourself disappearing. This is a brilliant piece of work. I'm sure this book will move to bigger and better things.
Well written account of a woman losing her grasp of reality. Written from first person perspective, you can intimately feel what she's experiencing and thinking. Someimes the story is disjointed and can be confusing, but overall it holds up well. I would definitely recommend this book for some quick weekend reading. It has a hard hitting message about aging and mental health but isn't preachy or condescending.
Having just lost my Dad to this horrid disease, it was a chance to see perhaps how he processed thoughts. I think the author nailed it. It gave me some insight as to why he did some things and what might have been his reasonings. That said; oh, my! What twists this book took. I was pretty sure who HADN'T done it; but I never saw who HAD. There are characters that aren't very likable - that's ok; real life is populated with them as well. I didn't like the way the story turned out - perhaps wishing for a happy ending because it was a book was too much to hope for, but it was probably more realistic.
I'm sorry to say that I didn't care for this novel. Told through the first person narrative of Dr. Jennifer White, the reader is given a firsthand glimpse of the rapid deterioration that dementia has on the mind. While anything other than the first person narrative would have left much to be desired within the novel, the narrative itself is extremely heartbreaking and, at times, difficult to follow. I have never met anyone with dementia, but LaPlante has created an all too real account of what it's like inside the mind of someone suffering from this disease as they rapidly go from one thought to the next, only to lose the previous one. While there is much suspense and mystery surrounding the death of Jennifer's friend Amanda, I did find the novel overly repetitive at times, which only makes sense since Jennifer is constantly relearning the same information. However, repetition of events, especially sad ones, isn't really my forte. As I like more upbeat, happy novels, this was somewhat of a downer for me, as the treatment of Jennifer by her family, along with her own lapse of memories, creates a depressing tone and left me feeling dejected in the end, especially as the deterioration of Jennifer's mind increased. However, LePlante's revelation of the murderer does make it a worthwhile read--I never saw it coming. So, if you don't mind a little repetition and sadness that accompanies dementia, then I recommend you read this novel. Two and half stars.
Throughly enjoyed this book. My mom has dementia and you covered many of the systems I see now.
Interesting story line.
This was a pretty good book, some parts dragged on.
This book was well written and kept me turning the pages. It was interesting to read from the prospective of the person suffering from dementia.
This is an amazing book. Alice grabs you in the first paragraph. She shows incredible insight into what a person with dementia might go through fading in and out. Very good.
Alice LaPlante gives us a startling glimpse into the rapidly failing memory of Dr. Jennifer White a retired orthopedic surgeon suffering from Alzheimer's and by extension a glimpse into the all too real experience of its sufferers. Currently observing a relative struggling with the disease I found LaPlante's behavioral depictions spot on. Imagine your own memory fleeing by bits and pieces while you cannot quite remember names and/or faces of relatives and friends once dear to you. You record or have someone record your daily life in a journal in a desperate attempt to hold onto what is left of your memory. Depressing – yes – but LaPlante provides relief by introducing an exciting "who done it" murder mystery into the plot. For me the murder mystery served this purpose well yet it also oddly symbolizes the effects of the disease itself…murder, of the mind and mystery, about its causes.
Haunting, compelling debut. Eager for the next book from this thoughtful, intelligent storyteller. Sections of this book made me want to weep.


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Does this plugin work on multi-site. I inserted this tag on one of my sub-blog created pages, so that it displays the form on that sub-blog, but it did not work. [bp_profile_search_form]
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This is my go to recipe, easy to make, quick and surprisingly delicious. I would recommend making with salmon with skin, as the skin does crispy and it's amazing. Onions caramelise well also.
Salmon Roasted with Tomatoes & Olives
From EatingWell: Fall 2002, The EatingWell Diabetes Cookbook (2005)
Although you can use any firm-fleshed fish, such as halibut or cod, salmon is especially pretty with the roasted tomatoes and black olives. Serve with steamed green beans or broccoli florets and boiled new potatoes.
6 Reviews for Salmon Roasted with Tomatoes & Olives
This recipe is AWESOME. My daughter and my husband both cleared their plates in no time. That's something what doesn't usually happen with healthy food...
the tomato - olive combination tastes AMAAAZING with salmon!! i put a zest of on lemon though instead of the orange and i added some Lebanese fish spices, ground cumin and ground coriander and some celery. my guests loved it thank you!
Easy, elegant, tasty, but I found the tomatoes and onions took less than the 45 minutes roasting time called for in the recipe, probably more like 30. Also, the tomato juices ended up forming a charred layer on the bottom of the roasting pan.
Great tasting recipe. We used our grill as an oven and did the roasting on the grill. Paired this entree with the Spinach and Sherry Vinaigrette Salad. Used the leftovers to make a risotto, sauteing a zucchini in olive oil, before adding rice, wine, chicken stock and the salmon mixture. We added parmesean cheese, the strong flavors of the salmon, tomatoes and olives could stand up to the cheese.
Marianne, Redondo Beach, CA


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This is a two inch tall headpiece/headband, handmade in East Germany in the 1950s, still with it's original paper tag. This is old store stock and has never been used. It has 7 fabric roses and smaller open blossoms in between, with a wrapped scalloped crown that criss crosses around the top. Beautiful to incorporate into a headpiece for a bride or flower girls, or for a special birthday party or renaissance fair costume - it's a wonderful old piece and in excellent condition.
Vintage Wedding Crown Millinery Headpiece From East Germany 1950s Old Store Stock
- Vintage item from the 1950s
- Materials: wire, paper, fabric
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- Feedback: 38349 reviews
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