text:
Missing Barbara, best dog I've ever known, at Easter and Always
Living in High Springs has brought me joy and happiness I never knew I could experience. There are people here who love me and care about me. I have a beautiful home, a job others would give anything to have, a new hobby (photography), and no more of the traffic and rudeness of Tampa Bay. Sounds idyllic, I know. And it is – most of the time. But something is missing. I am not all here, not able to get organized or even function some days.
It's because I am still in pain – physical and emotional – and lost without Barbara, who left this earth 7/14. I should be better now. I shouldn't think about her every day, right? I should be able to talk about her without feeling my eyes fill with tears.
Someone suggest that I write about it, and maybe doing so will help.
Some people tell me to get therapy; this has gone on too long.Other people tell me that what I feel is normal. I've learned that the amount/length of grief can be tied to the number of years you had with your dog and the type of relationship the two of you had. Well, I had Barbara for 12 glorious years. Ours was a deep and unique relationship. I cried when I saw her for the first time. I fell in love immediately. I cried when I saw her for the last time. I didn't know if I could live without her.
We were together nearly all the time because I work from home. We had routines. We said our prayers before meals. I sang a special song when it was walk time. If I was going to leave the room for a few minutes, I just said, "Mama be right back," and she'd plop down and wait for me. She knew the difference between going for a ride with me and those times she had to stay at home and wait. When that happened, I always said, "Keep the house." She knew she'd get a few treats before I left, and she waited patiently for my return – usually with something special for her. I'd say, "Do you wanna go fwimmin'?" (our special word), and she'd run to the cabinet where I stored her beach towels. My, how she loved the water. She'd pouce in, swim and show pure joy, and even put her head underwater. Probably looking for squirrels or lizards.
Ptsd, depression, anxiety took me places no one should go. Barbara could sense that. She KNEW when I was getting ready to zone out or take to bed. She'd press herself against me to reassure me that she was there. She's put her big ol' paw right in the center of my forehead, for dog-style reiki, when tension headaches took over. She'd disappear for a few minutes and come back with a toy or something from the laundry hamper – trying to make me smile, and it worked.
In 2009-10, I had horrible problems, then surgery, due to frozen shoulder. My precious dog stayed right beside me for at least six months when I was in too much pain to move. She was by my side when I had to sleep in a recliner. Then when I could move back to my bed she very gently got up beside me. One night when I was really hurting, that sensitive dog moved up the bed slowly until she could nestle her nose in my neck and make little "I'm here, Mama. Sorry you hurt" snuffling sounds into my neck. Tears ran down my face – not from pain, but from the love of my constant companion. Finally, she decided it might be okay to leave me alone so she went to the living room and stretched out on the sofa. If she thought I'd turned a corner, then it must have been true. The next day, we took a slow, short walk. She was so patient with me because I'd lost all the strength in my legs and my balance was off. She didn't pull on her leash, but rather walked at my side (I know she wanted to go faster and further). We kept at it, and soon were up to our regular walks and adventures.
My wonderful dog stopped people in their tracks when we took walks. Everyone wanted to be close to Barbara. She had a beautiful, shiny coat from twice-daily brushings. Her teeth stayed white because of the special product I sprinkled in her food every day. She ate well, and while I hate to cook for myself, I loved to cook for Barbara. And she sure did enjoy her coconut water. She was always happy, wagging her tail, and smiling that special Golden Retriever smile.
I used to take her in the car when I went to the neighborhood convenience store. I'd get some sort of snack, and always a cheese stick for Barbara.Left the a/c on. I didn't pay attention to it until after she'd passed. I went to the conv. store, and the clerk asked about Barbara. Said she hadn't seen her in a few weeks. It broke my heart to tell her what had happened. She started crying and had to leave to go to the back room to cry it out. Everybody loved Barbara.
Everyone loved her, except for those who don't like dogs, don't understand how they become part of souls, and don't understand how much we love them – no matter how goofy they are. Barbara's goofiness saved me from some scary times of depression more than I can count.
One day, someone tried to break into my house. Barbara barked and growled in such a scary way (never heard it before; never heard it again) when the man pounded on my door and window. He ran away, but my neighbors got robbed. Later, when the Sheriff came to take statements, he looked me in the eye and said, "You need to know that your dog saved your life. That man would have, without a doubt, killed me." How did she know on that one day that the pounding on the door was foe, not friend? Don't believe it when people say Goldens are not good watchdogs.
She had what I termed GRAttitude – Golden Retriever Attitude. Always smiling, always happy and ready for fun, and always glad to be by my side. God. Please God. I miss that. Even when she was near death, she fought to keep that special attitude.
Then came the day. She and I knew it was the end of the road. I feel the agony today as if it happened yesterday. She tried so hard to be happy, even on that day. I snuggled with her on a blanket in the vet's office. Our wonderful vet who, along with B's specialists, tried everything possible to save her. As she passed from this world to the next, I spoke to her and reminded her of all the fun we'd had – and told her that there are probably slow squirrels in heaven for her to catch.
And then it was over. I walked out of the office with her green collar in my hand, and cried millions of tears. That night, I begged God to give me a sign to let me know she was happy there in heaven. And then a miracle happened. I opened my eyes and saw a hazy images of my pupper there, right beside me, smiling. I could touch her, though not physically. I could sense her happiness. Spiritually, I held her close and whispered in her ears. I petted her, cried, and thanked God for letting me know she was okay. It was only about five minutes, but it was what I needed.
Today, I still miss her. She was more than a "Dog" to me. She was a friend to joke with, travel with, take naps with, and go on lizard hunts with. She loved it when I sang to her. She loved everything about me. She was always with me, always by my side. She is now, and forever, in my heart.
I am lost without her. I would like to honor her by getting another dog but two things in my life prevent it. Most important is that the person I love doesn't like dogs and especially doesn't like the way MY dogs behave. So the saddest thing is that I've had to choose between a dog (which would help w/my PTSD, and my psychiatrist agrees) and the person most loved in my life.
I pet every dog I see when I'm out in public. I miss that special connection, the trust. I miss Barbara. I will feel this way for a long time, I think.
She's shown here wearing her Easter bandana and her beautiful smile.


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Iping Common was looking glorious one Friday evening, a couple of weeks ago, when I joined the Sussex Wildlife Trust's wildlife guardians on a walk around the reserve.
Passing this expanse of heather on the right hand side, on the path which runs south west from
the car park, we headed into a little patch of mixed birch woodland.
Here, by the path, I spotted this Amanita poking up through the grass: tall and tan and young and lovely.
I only got a couple of snaps as the light was fading and we were on a mission to see the Nightjars.
I've been umming and ahhing about whether this could be the Blusher Amanita rubescens or Grey Spotted Amanita Amanita excelsa. Two species which the Collins Guide says are "much confused".
I'd sort of convinced myself it must be the A. rubescens because my ID guides say the more common variant of A. excelsa – A. excelsa var. spissa – has a characteristic radish-like smell. And this mushroom didn't have a radish-like smell (I had a proper sniff). It didn't really smell of anything.
But I must admit, it didn't really display any blushing either (i.e. colouring red when cut or bruised), which is the characteristic feature of A. rubescens.
I happened to bump into Vivien Hodge today, who is a very experienced mycologist, so I grabbed the opportunity for a second opinion. She suggested it looks more like A. excelsa, but as I haven't got a clear shot of the gills it's rather difficult to tell.
So I think I'm close on this one, but can't quite get to a species ID.
For the record
Date: 15 July 2016
Location: Iping Common
Grid ref: SU8421
I don't know much about Fungi. What I do know is, they're mostly pretty hard to identify to species. So this is me, trying.
Tuesday, 26 July 2016
Sunday, 10 July 2016
On Heyshott Common
Quick trip to Heyshott Common today produced this yellow Russula-type mushroom. It looked so much a part of this heathland scene I didn't want to pick it. So I just have a few photos to go on...
It had been raining heavily before we arrived and the cap was slightly slimy to the touch.
Beneath the yellow cap, the stipe and gills were a creamy-white.
There are a few different yellow Russula species which are typically yellow and white like this: Russula ochroleuca and Russula claroflava, for example. But the habitat here doesn't seem right for those species.
I'll have to admit defeat on this one and recognise I'll have to try harder if I want to identify Russulas to species.
I also passed by these rather diminutive earthballs. I picked one up to have a look at it and found it had no discernable stem – it's probably Common Earthball Scleroderma citrinum, but I think I'd have to look at the spores to be sure.
For the record
Date: 10 July 2016
Location: Heyshott Common
Grid ref: SU911194 (or thereabouts)
Monday, 4 July 2016
Unidentified Bolete
Spotted on the walk home: a bolete of some sort, growing at the side of the road under a Hawthorn hedge.
The surface is heavily cracked, revealing yellow flesh.
Not sure how you'd classify the gill attachment: adnate? Noted that the flesh discoloured slightly, to a dull green colour, where it was cut.
The stipe is fairly slim and tapers downwards – not club-shaped as you'd expect to see on a classic Boletus.
It has a fairly strong mushroom-y smell.
I'm guessing some kind of Xerocomus species (possibly Suede Bolete Xerocomus subtomentosus). However, there are many that look similar and the Collins (illustrated) Fungi Guide suggests that chemical tests may be necessary to separate these species with confidence.
For the record
Date: 04/07/2016
Location: Small Dole
Grid reference: TQ214135
Entered into FRDBI: 13/02/2017
The surface is heavily cracked, revealing yellow flesh.
Underneath, large angular pores of a dull, olivaceous yellow brown colour. They appear not to be bruising, although perhaps it's harder to see in an old specimen like this.
Not sure how you'd classify the gill attachment: adnate? Noted that the flesh discoloured slightly, to a dull green colour, where it was cut.
The stipe is fairly slim and tapers downwards – not club-shaped as you'd expect to see on a classic Boletus.
It has a fairly strong mushroom-y smell.
I'm guessing some kind of Xerocomus species (possibly Suede Bolete Xerocomus subtomentosus). However, there are many that look similar and the Collins (illustrated) Fungi Guide suggests that chemical tests may be necessary to separate these species with confidence.
For the record
Date: 04/07/2016
Location: Small Dole
Grid reference: TQ214135
Entered into FRDBI: 13/02/2017
Sunday, 3 July 2016
Secret Wildlife
This weekend, at a secret location in deepest Sussex, families gathered for the fourth annual Secret Wildlife Festival. I was there, officially in a 'helping out' capacity, but I had a secret mission of my own: To find more slime moulds.
The highlight for me was a trip round Knowlands Wood, a privately-owned woodland of old hornbeam, oak and mixed coppice, with Nick Lear who has been actively managing the site for wildlife since he acquired it more than thirty years ago.
Along one of the wide, sunny rides – ideal for butterflies, if only the sun were shining – we spotted this bulbous beauty.
I think it's Reticularia lycoperdon (synonym Enteridium lycoperdon) – a slime mould. But as the group hurried on, in pursuit of White Admirals, I didn't have much opportunity to study it.
After passing through the butterfly glades, where a few fleeting rays of sunshine brought the promised White Admirals and Silver-washed Fritillaries, we entered an area of dense and damper woodland – mostly hornbeam with a few old oaks.
Scanning the woodland floor for signs of life, I was thrilled to see this: An army of Dead Moll's Fingers Xylaria longipes trooping along the dead wood.
The books say Dead Moll's Fingers Xylaria longipes are found on fallen branches of broad-leaved trees, especially Maples and Sycamore. They don't say anything about Hornbeam but they sure seem to love it here.
It's not hard to see why they're called Dead Moll's Fingers. They give a very good impression of dead fingers clawing their way up from the underworld.
According to my field guides, Dead Moll's Fingers Xylaria longipes are more slender than the perhaps-better-known Dead Man's Fingers Xylaria polymorpha and have a longer stem. The Collins Complete (Photographic) Guide also mentions that the stem of Dead Moll's Fingers Xylaria longipes doesn't snap when bent, unlike X. polymorpha. So I think I'm on reasonably safe ground with my identification.
There must have been thousands through this stretch of woodland. They're really fabulous looking things.
I was trailing far behind the rest of the party, so it wasn't until I got back to camp that I discovered no one else had spotted these denizens of dead wood surging up through the woodland floor and surrounding us.
That wasn't all this stretch of woodland had in store. With a bit of looking, I managed to find two more slime moulds...
There was this tapioca-like thing growing on a fallen oak tree, which I'm struggling to identify:
And another example of Wolf's Milk (a Lycogala species):
The colour seems a deeper, more carmine shade than I've seen previously. Perhaps it's L. epidendrum...?
For the record
Date: 3 July 2016
Location: Knowlands Wood [private site]
Grid reference: TQ4117
Fungus record entered into FRDBI: 13/02/2017
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subset: commoncrawl


text:
Collaborate: Heighten by Cooperation
Take Advantage of the Comprehensive Strength, Inter-base Communication Infrastructure
One of the business, in order to support a comprehensive force of various experience and knowledge TMJ has been stacked, each base, quickly sharing and video conferencing system that can dress carried in the high-quality video and audio, a variety of know-how and information groupware to be, such as the management information system to identify the KPI and cost of each center in real time working. Intelligence infrastructure
Flexible Management Support through Large Scale IDC
Outsource center of the TMJ, has adopted the IP Centrex configuration.
The main IT equipment including audio equipment, such as PBX · dialer, aggregates in the Internet data center with the earthquake and disaster prevention measures (IDC), it is possible to achieve high business continuity, it has been possible to a flexible business operations you.
Internal Organizational Structure that Work in the Vertical and Horizontal Directions
If you want to start a call center and back office operations project, organization attracted the best talent in across programs, and formed a team, build a close cooperation that take advantage of the high level of expertise, and the realization ensure launch of in speedy to you. In operation, hiring and training the best talent in the business, such as continuous improvement, and build organizational structure that strongly support the management, field staff will have created an environment that can concentrate on business.


text:
Hi guys
I'm in the middle of my first ever ferment. It's a wild mead with mulberries.
I'm really excited to see how this goes. I read over loads of recipes and eventually settled on:
3kg raw honey
1.5kg mulberries
9.3L water
The honey here in Australia isn't as sweet as in other countries. Something about our local flora. But I'm still thinking that the mead's going to turn out sweet.
I mixed everything up in 3 food grade buckets and covered them with cheesecloth. In less than 24 hours the ferment was powering along.
I read a lot of conflicting advice, but since it's quite hot and fruit flies are a big problem here, I decided to filter out the fruit and seeds and transfer it into a big 10L jug. I'm using a balloon to seal it off so it doesn't explode
It's still powering along. There's loads of bubbles and the balloon is blowing up.
I have a couple of questions (since I've read a lot of conflicting advice in the last week)
What's the ideal temperature for a wild ferment? And since the current ambient temp is between 25-30 degrees C what's the best way to cool everything down without cooling it too much?
If I'm not using an airlock (I'm using balloons) what's the best way I can assess where the ferment's at and where to stop it?
What will happen if I accidentally let the ferment go for too long? If it's sealed off from oxygen will that stop the production of ascetic acid?
If I accidentally bottle too early is there something I can do to kill any yeast that's left? I'll be keeping the bottled mead in the fridge but will eventually be taking it to an event where it will be left out for up to 12 hours. I don't want to cause any explosions
Any tips would be greatly appreciated. Especially if you can explain why (I'm really keen to learn and understanding why you do something will help me remember).
Thanks guys!


text:
I recently heard a phrase that has stuck with me somewhat, "the days are long but the years are short." I thought of it again this morning as I headed out into the Highlands and realized that Summer begins this Friday at 5:04 a.m. It seems to me like it was April just last week.
I threw my gear in the truck and headed to a "local" stream that got a good rain the day before. I was a little disappointed to see a car parked in my spot which is well up off of the main road. Oh well, what can you do?
The first pool I stopped at produced a little brook trout on a black ant almost immediately. Seeing as the hole was spooked I hiked on upstream. I settled into my next spot which involved some crawling to remain undetected. Hearing a noise behind me I wheeled around to find two employees of the National Aviary in Pittsburgh. It turns out I was about to fish a pool directly adjacent to a Louisiana Waterthrush nest. Then one of the birders sloshed right through the pool to show me the nest, which was burrowed into the stream bank. They then asked if I could wait a few minutes so they could record some info. For what it's worth I really do enjoy birds, however, I just smiled and said it was nice to have met them and moved on.
Moving on proved beneficial and I got into a few more fish before heading back to my truck. I was back in the city by 1:00 p.m.
Thanks for reading.


text:
The Lucaya Village is located 10 minutes from Disney, with fast access to the Universal parks and the biggest shopping centers of Orlando - Premium Outlets and the Millenia Mall. Offers homes of 3 and 4 bedrooms with all the necessary structure and security and can accommodate up to 8 people. Woody, organized and pleasant areas to enjoy the late afternoon with friends and family, the condo has a reception, parking, gym, wireless internet and recreation area with pool, playground and Jacuzzi.
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text:
Acebyte Utilities is a collection of tools that aim to help optimise, clean up and repair your PC.
Some of these modules seem quite familiar. A "Startup Manager" can disable Windows startup programs at a click, for instance. The "Disk Defragment" tool reorganises files on your hard drive to help improve performance. And there are tools to fix Registry errors, free up RAM, and more.
Other options will scan your PC for "problems", though, and the issues they find are a little trickier to understand. Should you allow the program to "set two Cache value", for instance? What about "auto adjust desktop icon cache"? Or "disable debugging tools"? If you like to know what this kind of application is doing to your system then you'll be left a little frustrated here.
Still, we were a little reassured to see that Acebyte Utilities does record your original settings before it makes any changes. And so if a particular tweak has some undesirable result then you should be able to reverse it very quickly.


text:
Photo Spot Summary
Category: Landscape
Country: Indonesia
City: Denpasar
GPS Latitude: -8.177746
GPS Longitude: 115.181885
Photo Spot Details
There are some waterfalls in this area so many spots to be explored. Beware of the flash flood in rainy season. Have yourself a local guide to assist you whether it is safe to reach this place or not.
Photo Tips
1. Use wide lens.
2. Bring sturdy tripod.
3. Bring ND filter.
4. Dry wipe to clean the water vapor on your lens.
Sekumpul Waterfall


text:
In The Beginning...
In 1980 and for two years educational meetings were held throughout Addison County to inform the public about the concept of hospice care, and to assess the interest in establishing home care whenever possible. In mid 1982, a group of seven interested individuals gathered in the basement of St. Mary's Church in Middlebury to learn how to make hospice a possibility. From these meetings a steering committee was formed, by-laws were written and Addison County Hospice, Inc was organized as a non-profit. The first recorded minutes of the Board of Directors are dated January 5, 1983. The definition of hospice from that first board meeting reads:
Hospice is an organized system of identifying and helping to meet the varied needs of the terminally ill. These needs may be medical, social, economic, spiritual or emotional. The focus of hospice is on home care and the optimum preservation of family life. The primary goal of hospice is to maintain the physical and emotional comfort and well being of the individual and his or her family. This goal is carried out by the hospice team, which consists of the family physician, community health nurse, social worker, family pastor or priest and hospice volunteers.
Volunteers were then recruited and on June 6, 1983, the first training program was introduced with an ambitious 10-week schedule. In November 1983, the first family in Addison County was served.
And Now...
Several thousand men, women and childred of all ages are served by HVS annually, from patient and family support, to bereavement groups, to public education events and school curriculum. HVS coordinates nearly 200 volunteers in extended outreach programs providing patient care, care giver respite support, grief support and Wellspring singers, as well as scores of office and fundraising volunteers. Our agency continues to grow and respond to the hospice and bereavement needs in Addison County as our population ages. The revised mission statement of Hospice Volunteer Services reads:
Hospice Volunteer Services of Addison County is a not-for-profit agency committed to offering care and support to those in our community facing the end of life or grieving the death of a loved one. Our mission includes educating the community on dying, death, and bereavement.
The Touching of Hands...
When people touch hands, they share the experience. Even at the end of life we need continued connection to one another. We need to have our pain and symptoms managed; we need the context and meaning provided by home, family, friends, colleagues, pets and hobbies. We need the comfort, reassurance and presence of those we love most.
The hospice program exists to ensure that people diagnosed with a terminal illness have the support and services they need to live at home or in a home-like setting to the end of their lives. We believe in the potential of this time for finishing the work of life, for making new memories, for simply being here and for saying goodbye.
The end of life is also a difficult time, often demanding more energy and vigilance than families can provide on their own. We supplement the care they provide with the help of our trained hospice volunteers. They offer their hands in practical and emotional support of both patient and family.
You can help by contributing to Hospice Volunteer Services. Your donation is a statement of support for the work and philosophy of Hospice, and an endorsement of our belief that ordinary people are capable of helping one another in extraordinary ways.
Executive Director & Board of Directors...
The current board charged with carrying out the mission and promoting the programs and services of Hospice Volunteer Services are:
Johanna Nichols, President
Chuck Burdick, V. President
David Andrews, Secretary
Gerd Krahn, Treasurer
Margie Bekoff
Barbara Deal
Julie Heffernan
Cynthia Jones
Patty Paul
Carolyn Thompson
Shirley Ryan, Administrative Director since 2005
Priscilla Baker, Program Director since 2005
Laurie Borden, Program Associate since 2016
Margaret Olson, Bereavement Care Provider since 2016


text:
Kaepernicking? 49ers QB flexes his muscles
Associated Press
san francisco
Colin Kaepernick stood in a cramped corner of the 49ers' locker room smiling and chatting with Alex Smith late Saturday night when a stranger interrupted the two quarterbacks.
"Wow, great game," said former franchise quarterback John Brodie, shaking Kaepernick's hand and patting him on the back. "Nice to meet you."
After a record-setting playoff debut that sent San Francisco to the NFC championship game for the second straight season, Kaepernick needs no more introductions.
The second-year pro out of Nevada squashed all the questions and uncertainty about Jim Harbaugh's late-season decision to supplant Smith as the starter in a 45-31 rout of Aaron Rodgers and the Green Bay Packers. Kaepernick is quickly becoming a household name, and his touchdown celebration — flexing his right arm and kissing his biceps — is trending all over social media.
Tebowing? No, call it Kaepernicking.
Riding his strong legs and right arm, the 49ers (12-4-1) are back where they were a year ago and seemingly more dangerous and daring than when the eventual champion New York Giants eliminated them last January. San Francisco will play at Atlanta (14-3) on Jan. 20 after the Falcons outlasted Seattle 30-28 on Sunday.
"All the credit goes to him," said rookie running back LaMichael James, another part of the dynamic read-option run game. "When he's making that read, he knows when to give it. He knows when to pull it. He's taking off. He's faster than most people on the defense. He's doing everything for us right now."
In the air and on the ground, Kaepernick confirmed Harbaugh's much-debated move more than anybody could have imagined in 60 minutes of playoff football.
The tattoo-tattered quarterback from nearby Turlock overcame an early interception returned for a touchdown and ran for scores of 20 and 56 yards, topping the rushing mark of 119 yards set by Michael Vick in 2005 when Atlanta beat St. Louis. He also threw TD passes of 12 and 20 yards to go-to target Michael Crabtree, who finished with nine receptions and 119 yards in the NFC divisional matchup.
San Francisco racked up 579 total yards with 323 on the ground, scoring its third-most points in the franchise's storied playoff history. Kaepernick also joined Jay Cutler in 2011 and Otto Graham in both 1954 and 1955 as the only players with two rushing and two passing touchdowns in a playoff game.
"It's been amazing and I couldn't ask for anything more," Kaepernick said.
That's something San Francisco sorely lacked last January.
Throw out the grind-it-out game that propelled the 49ers as far as a 20-17 overtime loss to the Giants a year ago. With a strong arm and quick-burst ability out of the pocket, Kaepernick has given the offense an added dimension — and maybe some moxie, too — that was missing in the championship game.
All-Pro linebacker Patrick Willis credited Kaepernick and Co. for bailing out the defense against the Packers, especially in the first half, when Kaepernick had 11 carries for 107 yards rushing to give the 49ers a 24-21 lead. The unproven quarterback simply ran away from Green Bay in the second half, and the reigning MVP couldn't keep up.
"He's fast," Willis said. It's just one thing when you see a guy get behind a guy and they try to run and the guy already has a step on him. But to see a guy come across the field at an angle and he eats up the angle, to us, that's fast. That guy's moving."
More like this from vindy.com
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- January 15, 2013 12:05 a.m.
49ers plan to plow ahead toward Super Bowl
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text:
July 22,2012
Mary Walsh, 75, of Oswego passed away at home on Sunday with her family by her side. She was born in Oswego, the daughter of the late Joseph and Concetta (Gambino) Solazzo Sr.
Mary was a 1956 graduate of Oswego High School and was employed by the Oswego County Mental Health Department and secretary for Local 73 Business Plumbers & Steamfitters, managed by David "Bucky" Lavery.
She was a devout communicant of St. Josephs Roman Catholic Church, and her faith was the cornerstone of her life. She was proud to be the mother of Thomas and Bernie, and considered them her greatest accomplishment. She made time every day to visit and enjoy her family and friends, and her laughter could always be heard. The essence of Mary was seen in her warm and encompassing smile. Her strong spirit exemplified graceful dignity and a positive attitude.
She is survived by her husband Thomas Walsh of Oswego, sons Thomas Walsh of Hannibal, Bernard (Tammy) Walsh of Pennsylvania, brothers Joseph and Michael Solazzo of Oswego, sisters Jane Farfaglia of Fulton, Anna Fitzsimmons, Connie S. Pelkey, and Frances Solazzo all of Oswego, two grandchildren Bernard Jr. and Nicholas Walsh and many nieces and nephews.
Her sisters Augustina Bendzunas, Rose Solazzo, and brothers Nicholas, Tony, Dominic, and John Solazzo predeceased Mary, as well as her Godchild Mark Solazzo.
Funeral services will be conducted Thursday at 8:30 am from the Sugar & Scanlon Funeral Home Oswego, 9:00 am in St. Joseph's Roman Catholic Church where a Mass of Christian Burial will be celebrated. Burial will be in St. Peter's Cemetery. Calling hours will be Wednesday 4:00 – 7:00 p.m. at the Sugar & Scanlon Funeral Home 147 W. Fourth St. Oswego. In lieu of flowers, the family requests donations be sent to Friends of Oswego County Hospice or to St. Joseph's Church.


text:
Other Learning Experiences (OLE)
- Our School organizes various Other Learning Experiences groups to enrich students' learning experiences in aesthetics, sports, moral and civic education, community services and careers.
- The Student Union, the Prefects' Association and the IDEA Power help to promote leadership and sense of responsibility among students.
- Four Houses (Faith, Hope, Love and Joy) have been formed to foster team spirit and raise students' sense of belonging.
- The School has continued to achieve resounding results in Other Learning Experiences, particularly at the Schools Dance Festival, winning home the Highly Commended Awards and the Honours Awards for consecutive years in Chinese Dance and Modern Dance. Various awards have been received in the Hong Kong Schools Speech Festival and the Hong Kong Schools Music Festival. Furthermore, our French students' outstanding performances have won them several champions in the French Speech Competition held by the Association of Teachers of French in Hong Kong and Macau.
- Students participate actively in community services and church activities. Every year at Christmas, they hold "The Power of Love" Christmas Charity Show in aid of the Little Sisters of the Poor, Homes for the Aged.
|Arrangements on Structured OLE Lesson
|OLE Groups


text:
Making a Difference and Making a Living
Eight years ago I left the marketing company where I was working as a design sausage machine – cranking out fliers and adverts for clients and projects that meant nothing to me – to work for myself. It was a leap of faith as I had no clients lined up. I was just desperate to do something more fulfilling.
Politically, I came of age in 1980s Britain, the Thatcher era; I marched with striking miners, joined Friends of the Earth and bought a Free Nelson Mandela mug. I vowed I would always do a job I loved and ensure it was at something meaningful. In truth, I spent much of the decade working in a pub. I had no idea how to translate my ideals into a salary.
I had never heard of graphic design until I volunteered to help the British designer Ken Garland compile an exhibition on the Campaign for Nuclear Disarmament. He let me design the catalogue, which, looking back, seemed very generous of him. It's a dreary looking thing – a broadsheet that opens on the wrong side and upside down. But, I was very proud of it and from then on I knew what I wanted to do.
In 1964 Ken Garland published the First Things First Manifesto – a call to visual communicators to put their skills to better use. It was signed by 21 fellow creatives. The Manifesto was revisited in 2000, and the updated version republished in Eye magazine with 33 new signatories.
"There are pursuits more worthy of our problem-solving skills. Unprecedented environmental, social and cultural crises demand our attention. Many cultural interventions, social marketing campaigns, books, magazines, exhibitions, educational tools, television programmes, films, charitable causes and other information design projects urgently require our expertise and help." (Extract from the First Things First Manifesto 2000)
It is a noble call to action, but neglects to mention the empowering and democratic dimension of being involved in issues that directly affect us. The activist slogan, 'Nothing about us, without us' reminds us that we have an obligation and a right to direct participation.
In reality, it's less easy to practice. Many of the jobs in the design profession are in advertising and marketing. Taking on unpaid work can be unsustainable and really, skills and experience should be recompensed, however worthy the cause. So, how do you make a living from making a difference? The answer would probably take up a book. In fact there is one – The Design Activist's Handbook – full of ideas and tools for getting started as a socially conscious designer. But, for many of us, the process is incremental, stumbling along, trying this and that, following the trajectory made by our life experiences.
This was certainly my story. I was a window dresser until I went to Zimbabwe in 1990; I fell into teaching, loved it and taught myself graphic design – literally one step ahead of my students. Chaz Maviyane-Davies kindly acted as a mentor during my first few terms at the Polytechnic, and I cut my design teeth on projects that had a cultural or social change component; illustrations for one of the first AIDS awareness campaigns, a logo for Thomas Mapfumo, T-shirt designs for the anti-apartheid movement. It was 12 enriching and rewarding years. It made my return to the UK and the sausage machine job, with its adverts for the Royal Navy and product catalogues for luxury swimming pools, so much more painful.
When I finally walked out of the marketing job, I made a huge personal decision. I would align myself to the one global issue that had directly affected my life. In doing this, I would use my skills as a designer and as an 'expert', through my own lived experience, to advocate for a better world. Having been diagnosed with HIV in 1990, I had always been open with colleagues and those close to me, but stigma and discrimination meant I was less able to be so in a professional capacity. Either I followed a career as a woman living openly with HIV within the 'HIV bubble', where I could be guaranteed some support and safety, or I got on with something unrelated and kept quiet. From my first meeting with Ken Garland, I really wanted to be a Graphic Designer and in a socially useful arena. It took a long time to be able to bring the two together.


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But 55- to 64-year olds who make more than $100,000 a year are big buyers too
"Whether or not you have a smartphone is closely related to both how old you are and how much money you make," finds a Nielsen survey of 20,000 Americans with mobile phones conducted in January. I quote:
No big surprises there. The twist in the report issued Monday is that when age and income are both taken into account, older subscribers with higher incomes are more likely to pack a smartphone. For example, those 55-64 making over 100K a year are almost as likely to carry a smartphone as those in the 35-44 age bracket making 35-75K per year.
In Nielsen's most recent survey of smartphone operating system shares, conducted in November before the bulk of iPhone 4S sales, Apple (AAPL) was the No. 1 manufacturer with 28.3% of the U.S. market, but Google's (GOOG) Android had the largest market share (42.8%). See chart below.


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painting and pencils
Wednesday, February 27, 2008
Here is the final portrait of Stuart and also a close up so you can see the detail a bit better and a image that shows the stages of the painting during each sitting. Next week I'm going to try a pastel, which is exciting!
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It was almost two years ago I wrote about how I had my first energy drink. I liked it, but energy drinks are pretty expensive, and when the hell do I need that much energy?
I don't know how many of you get to go to gaming conventions like BGGCon, KublaCon, or any of the Stategicon events, but those of you who do go know how tiring it can be to play games hour after hour until early in the morning. You want to make the most of your time while you're there, right? Who wants to do something lame like sleeping, when you can play another game of Galaxy Trucker? What's a dedicated gamer to do? Energy drinks!
I decided to try a few of the more popular energy drinks and write down my thoughts on taste and such, because I'm just that kind of a guy.
I tried the 16oz. Red Bull even though I had already had that before. Red Bull tastes like chemicals to me now. It does give me a boost, but it certainly did not give me wings. In fact, I think I crashed harder after drinking this one more than any of the others. I've heard that this tastes much better if you add alcohol to it, but that seems a little silly to me, like storing matches next to the gasoline.
The 16oz. Rockstar is my energy drink of choice. It looks like bad pee if you pour it into a glass, so just drink it out of the can. You really don't want to look at this while you're drinking it. I really like the taste of this stuff. I don't really know how to describe it. It tastes like how I imagine an electrified cactus would taste. A couple months after having one of these, I was driving back from a day at the coast and got rerouted because of the wildfires. It added three hours on to my trip home, and Rockstar kept me very alert until I got home at 3:00 AM.
I tried both the regular and lo-carb versions of the cool looking 16 oz. Monster energy drinks. I wanted to like this one because it's looks scary and there are tons of ads for it all over the Vegas monorail, which makes it somehow cool to me. Unfortunately, it totally sucks. Both versions, like some of the others, look like pee if you pour them in a clear glass, but this looks like pee from someone who has some serious problems. The regular Monster had this really unpleasant taste that made the inside of my mouth feel icky. It gave me a huge energy boost, but it wasn't a good energy. It made me all shaky and gave me a horrible headache. The lo-carb version didn't give me any of the jitteryness or headache, but it tasted so damn-awful horrible, I couldn't finish it.
I tried a 16 oz. can of Amp, which tasted very light in comparison to the others. It had a pleasant citrus flavor and a nice color. It gave me a good amount of energy, but it made me extremely jittery and irritable. I was seriously ready to rip someone's head off because they were taking forever to take their turn. It's too bad, because it tasted pretty good, but I don't think an energy drink defense would stand up in court if I injure someone who takes too long to make decisions in Thurn and Taxis.
The 16 oz. NOS energy drink tasted sort of like a super caffinated version of a Cactus Cooler, which is one of my favorite soft drinks of all time. It looked like some radioactive liquid right out of a Simpson's episode. It gave me a fair amount of energy, but I didn't finish the whole thing. It just got old after a while. I would certainly choose this one over all of the rest, with the exception of the Rockstar.
There are a bunch of other brands out there. I may try some more as time passes and let you know what I think. If you have any favorites, and would like to share your thoughts, I would love to hear what you think.
GAME ON!!! with EXTREME energy!!!!!


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Tuesday, December 6, 2011
Emma. They walk into our room with a dark haired quiet Chinese 3 year old. They sit on the couch with her. Doll reaches for her and she comes easily. They give us a quick description of 3 medications with multiple doses a day and they are gone. Emma is uninterested in being held. Cole is with us and they connect rather quickly. Little did we know what a special spirit had just joined our family. Adoption is a great gift for a family.
Emma was a blank page. She rarely spoke. She did not know how to behave in public. She was not potty trained. She did feel ownership or feel possessive. She did not cry when she was hurt. She didn't ask for things. She did not want affection. She did not give affection. She didn't like ice-cream but she loved lemons. Emma was a blank page.
So, what do you do with a blank page? I won't even answer that. Too cliche. Oh yes I will. You write on it.
In the adoption training courses, it talks about attachment and teaches techniques to attach but also to help straighten out the tumbled emotions that children have when they have been neglected, abused or sensory deprived. These tools have been the source of miricals every day in the lives of our children. They have also helped us recognize ways to improve our relationships with our older children as well. (See Hints)
I teasingly ask Cole if he is in trouble. Emma interupts. No. He's my brother!
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|Me in a rockin' corset!
After a welcome event where I had a "fan girl" moment with Shayla Black, I hung out with Katie Reus—hi, Katie!! *blowing kisses*—on Bourbon Street. There Cynthia Eden broke my alcohol second virginity with a lemon something-or-other…don't know the exact name, but it was yummy! I stood on my first balcony, met an "undercover agent" who wasn't too under cover and saw a guy with a midriff baring shirt, tighter abs than mine and a hip-swaying stride that made me say, "Must be jam cuz jelly don't shake like that!" Good times!
|Me and Suzanne Johnson
Thursday and Friday I attended several readings, panels and workshops. I went to an amazing workshop on world building led by Kristen Painter. Two weeks later and I'm still talking about it! Just wow! If you haven't read her House of Comarre series, it's awesome! Among ice cream parties, karaoke where Jessica Lee and I did a rousing rendition of I Want Your Sex by George Michael, trying on corsets and a magical ball, I also had the opportunity to hear some of my favorite authors read from their books. Adrian Phoenix, Jeaniene Frost, Theresa Meyers, Suzanne Johnson…sitting across from these and other authors and listening to them read from books I have enjoyed was a wonderful experience I wouldn't have passed up!
|Me and Jade Lee
When you get a bunch of women—and some men!—who love romance books, authors and readers alike, you have a party where you're not only accepted for your kookiness, but it's celebrated! I discovered that the women I think of as goddesses of writing are funny, laid back and sarcastic—y'know, just real! I had a beautiful time and I can't wait to do it again in 2013!
|Me and Erin McCarthy!


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- one year ago
- arya . mercy
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- Indian Penal Code
Here we are going to explain what is punishable offence in this section is and how much has imprisonment or fine under section 438.
Punishment for the mischief described in section 437 committed by fire or explosive substance:
In this section states that whoever commits, or attempts to commit, by fire or any explosive substance, such mischief as is described in the last preceding section. shall be punished with imprisonment for life. or with imprisonment of either description for a term which may extend to ten years, and shall also be liable to fine.
CLASSIFICATION OF OFFENCE Punishment:
Offence: The mischief described in the last section when committed by fire or any explosive substance.
Punishment - Imprisonment for Life or 10 Years + FineThis is a Non-Bailable, Cognizable offence and Triable by Court of Session


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Look! 20 Of The Most Bizarre Homes In The Globe!
In the financial climate of the actual estate sector, numerous regard homes to rent as preferable to acquiring them. You can uncover massive estates and castles are on these islands but I believe these tiny homes are prettier and cuter than the bigger ones and they also have a special charm about them. They can search for houses or apartments for rent by region, quantity of bedrooms, rental price, and a assortment of keywords and phrases. Once you have decided on Langkawi to rent a property you have to take into account the size of house and the place.
Travel Organization and International NGO can rent this property since has many rooms, ample space and massive vehicle park. All the lumber had to be floated out to the site, and pilings had to be sunk into the ground beneath the gulf waters to assistance the homes.
But nowadays, we are seeing men and women or loved ones that belongs to larger class renting houses as properly as an alternative of purchasing a brand new 1. Nevertheless, for these who can't however accommodate getting property in their finances, a house for rent in Metro Manila is a practical alternative. Supposedly, the initial stilt homes were built as fishing lodges or fishing camps. Rent to personal house programs are becoming a lot more well-liked in locations like Ontario, Canada.
These houses were varying in size, from little cozy household homes to the huge rich mansions, and while the most of lives of the folks who inhabited insulae have been spent outdoors, the domuses had been serving numerous purposes such as religion, business, and consuming.
Thanks for sharing, but I need to add a big number of people keep single for years, or do not marry at all, and for them houses have in no way been a priority. Caloocan, Las Piñas, Malabon, Marikina, Muntinlupa, Navotas, Parañaque, San Juan, Taguig, and Valenzuela round up the capital, along with the lone municipality of Pateros.
In economics, the term rent is typically used to denote the income from factors whose supply is permanently inelastic. Therefore, renters will constantly want to be capable to convert weekly to monthly (per calendar month) rent and vice versa. Actual Estate Arusha Agency has also a lot more actual estate properties for sale such as Land plots for sell, Houses for sale, apartments for rent and commercial land for sale.


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Nokia Resent Achievement:
Nokia launched its Nokia 1100 handset in 2003, with over 200 million units shipped, was the best-selling mobile phone of all time and the world's top-selling consumer electronics product. In May 2007, Nokia released its first touch screen phone, the Nokia 7710, which was also a huge success. In November 2007, Nokia announced and released the Nokia N82, its first Nseries phone with Xenon flash. At the Nokia World conference in December 2007, Nokia announced their "Comes With Music" program: Nokia device buyers are to receive a year of complimentary access to music downloads. The service became commercially available in the second half of 2008.
Nokia Productions was the first ever mobile filmmaking project directed by Spike Lee. Work began in April 2008, and the film premiered in October 2008.
In 2008:Nokia released the Nokia E71 which was marketed to directly compete with the other BlackBerry-type devices offering a full "qwerty" keyboard and cheaper prices. Nokia announced in August 2009 that they will be selling a high-end Windows-based mini laptop called the Nokia Booklet 3G.
On 2 September 2009:Nokia launched two new music and social networking phones, the X6 and X3. The Nokia X6 features 32GB of on-board memory with a 3.2" finger touch interface and comes with a music playback time of 35 hours.
The Nokia X3 is a first series 40 Ovi Store-enabled device. The X3 is a music device that comes with stereo speakers, built-in FM radio, and a 3.2 mega pixel camera. On 10 September 2009, Nokia unveiled a new handset, the 7705 Twist, a phone with a sports square shape that swivels open to reveal a full QWERTY keypad.
The new mobile, which will be available exclusively through Verizon Wireless, features a 3 mega pixel camera, web browsing, voice commands and weighs around 3.44 ounces


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The Experience
It's safe, effortless and we will bathe you in gentle vibrations taking you in to a deep meditative state. Your experience takes place in our dedicated Sound Chamber - a comfortable and purpose-built environment that reflects the sounds off 16 paneled surfaces. Your Satori experience does not involve any touch, ingestion or injection, what it does do is empower your body to do its own work.
Your session begins with a guided process of qi gong breathing combined with aromatherapy. We then invite you to lay down, supported by cushions, bolsters and other supports to ensure correct skeletal support.
When we're sure everyone's comfortable and correctly positioned we dim the lights and guide you through some gentle stretching to relax the muscles - energy doesn't flow well through tense muscles.
At the start of each session we will cleanse your energetic field / aura with a hand-held symphonic gong struck at your feet three times, allowing spirals of energy to move over and around your body. These vibrations are heavier than your own and provide a gentle cleansing.
While this is happening our major symphonic gong will slowly build to a rumble, gently entraining you with the sounds and preparing you for the gong session. Sound is slowly lifted as we introduce two symphonic gongs; delivering sustained rhythm and harmonies. These will build and hold as we introduce the third hand-held gong which will be swept over and across you throughout the session.
As the sounds and vibrations move through your body you will begin to feel extremely relaxed, your levels of relaxation will move through brain wave ranges carrying you from "eyes open" beta consciousness through alpha, theta and delta states. The sounds will move through every cell, cleansing and impelling blood to every part of your body. It is not unusual for people to experience "tingling" sensations in hands and feet as blood is delivered to the tips of the nerve endings.
As we draw to a close we heighten your awareness and bring you back to present time very gently. We will soften the sounds before we break harmony - you will become aware of the changes and your body will begin its awakening.
Most sessions close with the sounding of a crystal singing bowl and our last sounds emanate from a finely tuned chime which contrasts with the deeper vibrations you have bathed in for the past hour. This will safely and gently stimulate your awakening and bring you back to present time . As the lights lift, you'll hear the sounds of birds singing. You will be cleansed at the deepest cellular level, feel totally refreshed and relaxed.


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Lilith Fair 2011
After cancelling the 2011 Lilith Fair, Sarah McLachlan has announced that she has no plans to bring back the concert in 2012. It is canceled indefinitely, but we will let you know if a return date is ever set.
Lilith Fair 2011 Cancelled – Find Concert Tickets on SeatGeek! Also, want to win FREE tickets to see your favorite artist? Check out our "Three for Free" Summer Ticket Giveaway!
Last summer Lilith Fair was revived after going on hiatus since 1999 and it looks like it was so popular that Lilith Fair 2011 is already in the works. The Lilith Fair 2011 dates and lineup have yet to be announced but we know that Sarah McLachlan will be performing each night as usual. We will keep you updated with the official lineup and tour dates as soon as they are announced.
Lilith Fair 2010 showcased over 70 female artists performing over the span of 23 dates. Some of the more notable artists included in the Lilith Fair 2010 lineup include Sheryl Crow, Erykah Badu, Indigo Girls, Mary J. Blige, Sarah McLachlan. Lilith Fair was founded by a group of notable women, including Susan Tedeschi, who have gone on to make an impact in the music industry.
Lilith Fair 2011 Lineup
Beth Orton, Brandi Carlile, Cat Power, Chantal Kreviazuk, Court Yard Hounds, Emmylou Harris, Erykah Badu, Gossip, Ingrid Michaelson, Jenni Rivera, Jill Scott, Loretta Lynn, Metric, Miranda Lambert, Sara Bareilles, Sarah McLachlan, Suzanne Vega, Tegan and Sara, The Bangles, The Verses
Lilith Fair 2011 Dates
Lilith Fair 2011 Dates have not been announced yet
Lilith Fair 2011 Cities
Atlanta, GA
Austin, TX
Boston, MA
Calgary, AB
Charlotte, NC
Chicago, IL
Dallas, TX
Denver, CO
Detroit, MI
Edmonton, AB
Hartford, CT
Houston, TX
Indianapolis, IN
London, UK
Los Angeles, CA
Minneapolis, MN
Montreal, QC
Nashville, TN
New York, NY
Philadelphia, PA
Phoenix, AZ
Portland, OR
Raleigh, NC
Salt Lake City, UT
San Diego, CA
San Francisco, CA
Seattle, WA
St. Louis, MO
Tampa, FL
Toronto, ON
Vancouver, BC
Washington, DC
West Palm Beach, FL


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Here's an article that surfaced two days ago but is only starting to appear in the papers:
Enraged father beheads daughter with sword in honour killing
June 20, 2012 - 9:46AM
A screenshot shows Indian marble miner Oghad Singh (centre) in police custody after turning himself in following the brutal attack on his daughter. Photo: AP
An Indian man is unrepentant after beheading his daughter with a ceremonial sword in a rage over her relationships with men, police say.
The man surrendered at a police station, carrying the head in one hand and the bloodied sword in the other.
Residents of his village in northwestern India expressed shock as they performed the last rites for the 20-year-old woman.
Police said the father, marble miner Oghad Singh, accused his daughter of bringing dishonour to the family and making it hard to find husbands for her two unmarried sisters.
Women wailing in grief lined the dusty road of Dungarji in Rajasthan state as a procession carried Manju Kanwar's remains to her funeral pyre.
As in many north and west Indian villages, the women, including her mother and four sisters, were not allowed to attend the funeral.
A coroner reattached Kanwar's head onto her body for the funeral.
About 100 men, many of them relatives wearing ceremonial Rajput warrior clan turbans, surrounded her muslin-wrapped body, and her brother lit the funeral pyre.
Villagers condemned the father's actions as extreme.
They said the father, his shirt soaked in blood, had carried his daughter's head through the village, describing what he'd done to neighbours.
"He told me that he took the sword out, and when the daughter was all alone in the house he beheaded her with a single stroke and the head fell on the ground," said Narayan Singh, a distant relative.
He said he persuaded Singh to surrender, and took him by motorcycle to a police station.
Police have charged Singh, 46, with murder.
"It was a ghastly sight," officer Ranjit Singh said, describing the father sitting in the station's waiting room holding the head in one hand and the sword in the other.
Police described Kanwar's recent life as difficult and unorthodox for the traditional community of about 1000 just outside the Rajasthani tourist town of Udaipur.
She left her husband from an arranged marriage two years ago and moved back home to live with her parents. She recently began seeing several men, which "disgusted" her father, deputy police superintendent Umesh Ojha said.
When she eloped with one man two weeks ago, her father forced her to return on Sunday and killed her.
This article was found at: http://www.smh.com.au/world/enraged-father-beheads-daughter-with-sword-in-honour-killing-20120620-20muu.html


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bicycle parking and fire hazards
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bicycle parking and fire hazards
Perhaps for once we can talk about some advocacy other than issues of the public roadway or improving the image of cycling.
Stairwells can often offer a good place for bicycle parking. Railings can almost be a drop in replacement for bike racks and there may be considerable free and empty stairwell space in old or renovated buildings.
It's often said that putting bicycles in stairwells violates is a fire hazard and/or violates fire codes, but is this always true? Although stairwells are often form a necessary emergency escape route in addition to serving as hookup locations for fire hoses or the like, what legal role do bottoms/tops of stairways to nowhere play? Moreover, if a bicycle doesn't take up any additional space when locked to a railing of an emergency escape route, does it still qualify as a violation of fire code? For example, if handbars and pedals are removed and a bicycle is hung directly under the railing without protruding onto the actual stairs would it still qualify as a violation? Obviously the law would vary with locale, but so does it in the case of public roads. Are there any unifying principles or common generalities? If not then are there are good sources of information on this matter?
Obviously a building owner has a right to ban bicycles from any part of their building for any reason, but fire code violations are often cited as the source of the objection. If we can show that intended usage is safe, legal, and unobtrusive, then we have a starting point to make our appeal.
I ask because a few months ago I started experimenting with putting my bicycle in the stairwell of my apartment building. It's not a very large building, but it has several stairwells along with elevators, so this particular stairwell is rarely used. Moreover, from the landing of the top floor the stairwell continues upward two more flights to a hidden empty landing with an empty wall of sheet rock which, without going into too many details, has absolutely no potential use (no roof access, no pipes, no nothing). I began my experiment by locking my bicycle on the hidden landing at the top of the "stairway to nowhere". Of course I received no complaints. However, to avoid carrying my bike up two extra flights of stairs I eventually moved it down to the beginning of the stairway to nowhere, locking it under the railing on the stairs and removing the handlebars and pedals to make it flush with the railing. Although no longer hidden, here I locked it for several months with no complaints, but last night I didn't have my key with me and foolishly just left it the bike standing on the top floor landing (near the emergency water system). This morning I saw the super on my way out and he told me that my bicycle was found in the stairwell and that I would need to keep it in my apartment because it is a fire hazard. Well, after being told that I feel a little bad about just locking it anywhere on the stairway to nowhere. I'd like to ask for permission to continue locking it where I have been, but before doing so I'd like to be aware if it is technically a potential fire code violation. I'll probably try to get away with locking it on the obviously safe hidden landing either way, but I'd rather not draw attention to myself by asking if I'm just going to be shut down for legal reasons. I've looked at the fire code for my city and it seems pretty silent about stairway blockages. So, any thoughts?
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I love Polyvore. It's the coolest little tool/website that let's you create your own fashion inspiration board and browse other's as well. You can also ask other community members for advice on how to style those leather leggings you picked up last weekend. People respond to you by posting articles of clothing (or accessories) that they think would look best with whatever item you're asking about. It's great because you get so many other perspectives. It might even encourage you to step outside of your comfort zone and try new things.
I put this one together using items I already had... and then wore it out for a dinner date with another couple.
Outfit details:
Lace Top: Piperlime, $49 (no longer available but this one from Topshop is similar)
Skinny jeans: Forever21, $10
Ballet Flats: Libby Edelman Kendra, $50 with coupon code from Shoes.com (use code 15OFF)
Bangles: Alex & Ani, $28-$38 each


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order by popularity | order by alphabet
The MatadorNa BahiaBoneca De PichePra Voce Gostar De MimRebola A BolaMalandroNao Te Dou A ChupetaMinha Terra Tem PalmeirasNa Baixa Do SapateiroI See I SeeMoreno BatuqueiroNinho DesertoMulato De QualidadeWhen I Love I LoveBrazilO Tique-Taque Do Meu CoracaoChattanooga Choo-chooMama Eu QueroCuidado Hein!Arca De NoeChica Chica Boom ChicAquarela Do BrasilDisseram Que Eu Voltei AmericanizadaSouth American WayTico-Tico No FubaTic-tac Do Meu CoracaoUpa UpaThe Wedding SambaI Yi Yi Yi Yi (i Like You Very Much)The Man With The Lollipop SongCuanto Le GustaTouradas Em MadridCamisa ListradaNo Tabuleiro Da BaianaWeekend In Havana
Related Information for Carmen Miranda Carmen Miranda (9 February 1909 – 5 August 1955) was a Portuguese-born Brazilian samba singer, dancer, Broadway actress, and film star who was popular from the 1930s to the 1950s.Miranda began her singing career in Brazil in 1929 where she was a major star before moving to the United States. In 1939, she performed on Broadway on which led to a Hollywood film career in 1940, with her first film Down Argentine Way. Nicknamed "The Brazilian Bombshell", Miranda is noted for her si.. read more


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Blue Crabs
Alake Pilgrim
8. Killing Crabs
Uncle licks his knife under their backs, a gentle slide, jerks up with that same hand (the other holds them down). I hear the Krak! I see the blue-black ink flood down their flinching legs like oil on the stone jukking board. Grey ridges cry black tears into the bottom of the sink, flecks of white flesh fly up, the smell a mix of earth, saltwater, blood. I am afraid. Their many-jointed legs still fight against the tethers of green string. Something alive still animates their limbs and whispers: Strike and pinch. They bleed black until he washes them out, white flesh encased in bones,flat and curved shells joined together at the weakest spots. He breaks their bodies open, scrapes the spiky hairs from their legs.
If one is already still, curled up, we do not eat it. I'm not sure why— something about poison, a kamikaze death, the last revenge of crabs.
Sometimes I urge him on, jump up and down, squeal in terrified delight, Kill them, uncle! Kill them! Or in a whisper, no less loud, Uncle, kill them. Kill them now. Sometimes silence falls and a grassy breeze picks up the call of a lone semp crying for her loved one who just died.
Did I see a bright sliver of regret in his eyes? Or was it just excitement for the cook that he would make—curry coating the slippery taste of my remorse.
24. Tobago Love
We are in his studio high above the bay. His masks devour the walls. His
statues wait for me. I turn around, they're always there, eyeless, bigbreasted, longtongued.
We go out again to dinner, his new favorite spot. "Here's my card," he tells the chef-owner when she comes out. They discuss the crab soufflé, Frankfurt, fish broth in Bacolet at dusk. Her hands are small but tough. The blue veins in her temples pulse when he makes her laugh. Loneliness nibbles at the corners of her lips while I listen to the surf break and picture flying just above the sea's dark face, the shwwwwww of the wind, the mist of spray.
That night he reaches for me as I search for sleep. I squirm away. He laughs, gets out of bed. The next day I wake up to an ashy aftertaste, more laughter. The downstairs neighbor has come up for their morning smoke. She throws a grin my way. "I hear you paint." They watch me as I hem and haw. "It's been months," I whisper. I don't know why.
A knowing look, she turns away. I hear a giggle, "new protégé," and then
she's gone. "I'm making breakfast," he declares, not leaving room for silence. I am thinking of how to ask him. Then I smell them in the sink. They are dead, de-haired, cracked open. I feel the heave surge up before I get away.
That night he's holding me when his cell phone rings. He jumps up, turns it off right away. A pause. I wait. "Love, I have to get back to Trinidad tomorrow to do some work. You can stay. Try to paint. I'll be back in a few days." I say nothing.
"And it's time for you to get over this thing with crabs," a whisper now,
knotting his fingers into the roots of my hair. I start to shake. "You're such a child," he says, cradles my face and covers it with slow kisses.
11. Dance doux doux dance
Black skin shivers in the moonlit rain. He pants, "Dance doux doux dance."
Spin me stories from under your little dress, from your trembling insides, spin me stories of skirts flying up like wings. Sing for me. Sing a song of six pence a pocket full of rye, four and twenty black birds baked in pie. When the pie was opened the birds began to sing. Wasn't that a dainty dish to set before the king?
He catches me while I am sleeping, the wolf. I could not stay awake. He grabs me up in his red red mouth, takes me outside in the rain, to the far end of the yard where no one is listening. I try to dream myself back to sleep, keep my eyes closed to the pain. But he bites down hard. Sing, he tells me. Sing. Sing sixpence while we dance. I feel sick. I cannot remember the song. I cannot remember my name.
"I'm your uncle," he said when he first saw me, his brother's only child. At
the funeral everyone stared at him, standing there still as stone, looking down into the hole where my parents had gone. I heard Miss Iva whisper to Miss Elaine, "He loved her too you know." I thought they meant me. But that was strange. He had never visited us before. He just appeared before the funeral and said, "You're my niece. Now your father gone, I will take care of you."
And he did, until something in him grew wild, started watching me from the corners of his eyes, throwing itself against the bars of his mind. "You turnin' more like her every day," he cried, and the rage would boil up in his face like oil, disfigure him. That thing ate my uncle alive. Night after night I could hear it in the room next to mine, snarling and coughing up tears.
Now all of life tastes like the sweat on his lips. He sucks on my eyes when
they ask him why - says he will squeeze them out. I scream inside. But no one is listening. Tomorrow morning when the neighbors come to take me to Sunday School, he will pretend that it is all okay. But I know what waits for me inside his smile.
So every night now I sleep up in the pommerac tree, hiding from the moon, praying against rain. I hide and wait: a small body full of darkness, who still dreams of flying away with the sun.
24. The Painting
We met one night at an exhibition, in a gallery made as cold as a freezer,
sealed off from the punch-man, rumshop limes, doubles stands and stray dogs just a few streets away in St. James. The evening was all shoo-shoo and half-empty wine glasses, and hardly anyone really looked at the art. I stood in a corner pretending to study a painting, the first one I'd ever done—a lagahoo, shape-shifter, half wolf half man, red-toothed, clawed and grinning.
When I couldn't take it anymore, I turned around, and there he was, walking toward me across the humming floor.
I learned later that he made love to her on the bed, changed the sheets, but did not move my overnight bag from behind the curtains. She kissed his nipples and behind his ears. He groaned. He whispered her name. He tasted her silky brown skin and thick black hair. He released her soft breasts from their satin bra. He put them in his mouth. She tasted like sea salt. She tasted like hot peppers and sweat. Years later and she's still a guest in his home in Trinidad. A visitor. Whenever she asked if she
should bring more clothes, spend more than one night, he never told her "Yes." He never told her "No." With him, it was always "Tomorrow," and she believed him, ate quarter truths. "I am your bright muse," she emailed him once. He never told her otherwise. He never did tell her about the others.
This is what I learned too late. His habit of eating different women begins with a hunger and a gift. The hunger: a spirit that cannot keep still, a whirlwind trying to shake off its loneliness. The gift is more than his quick laughter, more than the power to make each woman feel special, like she is the only one. His gift is the sight. He can see into women's hearts through their eyes, become what they think they want. He feeds them with hope. This is how he makes sure that he will never again be left alone by death, or any goodbye.
At first he is shocked by how easily their limbs bend open wide, how their
eyes grow limp as they clasp him between their thighs. It frightens him at first, but then he likes it—the smash, the salty aftertaste. Their cries become a thrill. They want the same thing, he tells himself. After all, they are the ones drawn to the smell of danger rising off his skin, drawn by the red glint behind his eyes.
Now they are something he must have. He searches the many corners of
women's eyes, looking for the one who will float to him, unmoored, because she has found herself alone on this island and is hoping that someone will save her.
11. Lagahoo
The bare patch on my uncle's head is hidden beneath a thin grey cloud. His lips are bald and probing, the taste of coins left in my mouth. There is no way out; no sight inside the cave of his chest, my face pressed up against the slimy points of his nipples. I hack for breath. One quick reprieve is all I get before I am pushed back under the line of his lap.
Someone is eating a little girl. Her head is impaled. Up and down and up
again. Now he is a lagahoo, coughing up rot-scented phlegm.
Who killed the chicken on the side of the road outside our house? Who
cracked its neck and left it there for all to see? He is a hunger, a trail of broken body parts nuzzled, gnawed, lured back for the pleasure of sucking life out of holes bit into bone.
I did not recognize him then. He was not my uncle. I thought I could feed him torn off pieces of myself and it would be enough. He dragged me out among the treeshadows releasing their rain in the night and storm. I fought but I could not cry out…. Come close, let me whisper this in your ear. There's choking there, caressing out the air and stabbing lights out. A secret I alone could hear. A child. H-h-h-h-h-h-he said, h-h-h-h-h-h-he said….
I will try to tell you this. A wolf crept up to me at night, left me shredded,
bleeding into the ridges of the stone sink at the back of our house: the sink we bluesoaped clothes in, killed crabs in, black ink running out of their cracked skulls. The knife slid gently into their tiny spaces and pried up, while their legs strained frantically against the cords.
My insides leak out and the smell of a swamp rises up, brackish mud, taste of a metallic stream. I hear the break in his voice the snapping cord whipping up the air slaps of spit flying the switch curving up. The spit from his mouth slaps back and forth. The memory of sounds is enough. Krak! A bloody tongue wrapped in silence.
24. The Message
I wake up with the memory of him in my mouth, spit him out onto the sheets, stained. I bend down to pick up the covers from the floor. His phone falls out. I hesitate, then look through his missed calls. No numbers at all. I go to his email account, try several passwords with no success. I'm about to give up when I enter "blue crabs," his favorite food, and it works. A stone sinks into my chest. The first message reads, "We need to talk. Katrina." I type "Katrina," click "Search" and read the messages one by one.
"I know about the others," she writes. "The last one you were with called my house. She told me about your "friends," gave me some numbers. I'm going to call them if you don't come."
I search the word "love" and their names appear.
This is what happens when a deep lie finds you: You are bent back; you are splintered open. You crawl on your belly trying to escape the salt trails left by his tongue. You run wall-eyed from side to side, the crooked leg, the cracked back, snap flap flack! Uururururururgghghghghg the slick gurgle slime twitch mutter utter utter nnno it's not true. He has never lied to himself or to you. He has never encircled her waiting limbs and whispered sweet things into her wet, opening palms.
If I could have spoken I would have told him this: Before your hands felt like a lie; before the dome of your head came to rest between her longing bones; before you ate my soul and I tried to eat yours, only to find that it was gone; before I began to ask "What's wrong?"; before you, I waited long.
14. The Gift
"Give me those last two bundles you have," my uncle says. Points to the ones he wants. The boy selling them is dark chocolate and thin as a rod. His eyes meet mine. He is beautiful.
This boy hunts blue crabs under the full moon, when they creep cautiously out of their holes, cross the asphalt road, looking for sand, looking again for the sea. He gets the big ones after the rain, braves huge pinchers and cars bearing down in the dark. He dances around the crabs in silver light, knows just how to hover above them with the loop of string, gently lower it and snap! It tightens. He knows just how
to hold them. The jagged claw claps closed on empty air. He ties each crab and slips it quickly into his mother's crocus bag. He lets all the little ones go free.
I squirm against the sticky vinyl seat: A forever car-ride. My uncle gets out and goes over to a little girl selling red and green plums across the street. He does not need to tell me to stay put. I am strapped in and burning in the heat. On the floor of the backseat crab eyes twitch from side to side, their joints flinch against tethers of green string. The boy smiles at me with amber eyes. He saunters over and drops a small cloth pouch into my lap. Then he flies away.
I open the pouch with wide eyes. It is full of folded bills—more than enough. My uncle is still haggling with the girl across the street. He is not looking at the car.
I clutch the money with one wet hand and with the other, crack open the door.
24. Swamp and Sea
I am in the mangrove swamp. Something that looks like a wild white dog has a crab on its back, splayed open. I hear the Krak!, feel the soft insides sucked out by that devouring spirit. My hands move over my stomach. The swamp smell clings like wet earth and blood. The air is dull. The dog looks up at me with clear red eyes and grins. At first I am afraid, then the rage boils up. A Sunday School verse comes unbidden to mind, up from the mud of fifteen years: You are not a child of the night or of the darkness. Walk as a child of light.
I call on the light and it comes down like a cutlass through the hanging
mangrove roots. The wild dog cringes back. I smell singed fur. It turns and slinks away slowly, red foam dripping from the corners of its mouth. I turn to go, still looking back, trip over a stone and fall. As soon as my face hits the black water, I wake up.
He is lying next to me, deaf to anything but the reverberation of his snoring. I take care to avoid his wineglass guarding dregs at the side of the bed. I step over his overflowing ashtray. I leave the room. I walk past the masks and statues, still watching me, even now. I gather up my rolls of canvas, brushes, paints, and take them down to my old car. I keep driving until the studio is out of sight.
On my way, I see a young man on the side of the road, selling crabs. His eyes look strangely familiar but I can't be sure. I ask to buy all the bundles he has left. He says, "Take them," and when he smiles, I know.
Minutes later, down by the sea, I cut each crab loose.
They crawl away one by one—their escape spilling sweet under my tongue.
Read next: "I Want to Kiss Myself, Good God" by Robert Lopez
Alake Pilgrim, the first place winner of our Summer Literary Seminars/Literarian Short Story Contest, is a Caribbean writer living in Trinidad & Tobago. She has an MA in Latin American and Caribbean Studies from New York University. Her stories have twice been awarded the Commonwealth Short Story's Regional Prize for Fiction. They have been shared on international radio by the Commonwealth Broadcasting Association and published in the Small Axe Journal. She was one of the emerging writers selected for a residency at the Cropper Foundation Writers Workshop and she was one of three New Talent readings at the Bocas Literary Festival. She is currently completing her first short-story collection, Blue Crabs and Other Stories.
This story was originally published in Issue 13 of The Literarian.


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When San Francisco singer / songwriter Martay read Angela McMichael's book Immeasurable, she picked up her guitar and wrote this song.
It's a positive and encouraging message to our daughters, wives, sisters, mothers and friends–to every woman, in every corner of this broken world. (And many of us men, as well!)
"Why would you ever believe the lies of him who hates you?
Believe the words of Him who made you…"
"…The LORD doesn't see things the way you see them. People judge by outward appearance, but the LORD looks at the heart."
1 Samuel 16:7b
In addition to her music, Check out Martay's blog where she tackles subjects like anxiety, comparison, bitterness, busyness, dating and more.
We Are Immeasurable
Immeasurable – The Book


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I've lost my crafty way a bit recently so I've decided that I ought to finish what I've already got on the go before I start anything new. I think I've made this decision before but not stuck to it so hopefully I can do better this time.
I've chosen to finish a cushion which has a front but no back. Since I want to finish it quickly I decided to use a piece of material and popper it shut. However, I realised after I'd cut the material out that I hadn't added sufficient for an overlap so I'll have to insert a zip instead. Sewing really isn't my thing so it might languish for a few more days whilst I have a good think about it. That's my problem, too much thinking and not enough action. I still can't decide whether to add some embroidery to the front either so I'm a bit of a lost cause at the moment.
Outside Spring has turned into Summer this week-end and people have reached for their flip flops, shorts and t-shirts. Barbeques have been fired up and the heating has even been turned off (although it looks like we'll need it back on again tomorrow).
Everything has burst open at once, leaves, tree blossom and flowers. Blink and you'll miss the most wonderful time of the year. Earlier I took full advantage of the lovely weather and took a few pictures of some of the wonders to be seen. If only Spring lasted longer...


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Bicol is land of the coconuts. It is situated along the typhoon belt so coconut trees are planted because they can bend and sway with the strong wind… just like the resilience of their people in difficult times. I can truly say that Bicolano cuisine has its own distinct identity with their heavy use of coconut milk and chili peppers. Food is generally spicier than the other regions. In the Philippines dishes are named after the cooking method. "Ginata" or "ginataang" means to cook in coconut milk. In fact almost all vegetables are cooked in coconut milk.
One very famous vegetable from the region is "gabi" or taro leaves. They are hanged upside to dry before being used. Old folks say it is not wise to stir the dish while cooking or else it will become "makati" or itchy . Non Bicolanos use the term "Laing" loosely to refer to gabi or taro leaves cooked in coconut milk. The locals are very particular about the variations:
Laing – gabi leaves coocked in coconut milk, with shrimp paste or dried fish
Tilmok– gabi leaves cooked in coconut milk with fish meat or crab meat
Pinangat – layered gabi leaves cooked in coconut milk with bangot ( meaning "sahog" or sometimes minced pork).
Other vegetable dishes cooked in coconut milk:
Ginataang santol – santol fruit meat cooked in coconut milk
Purupagulong -Sigarilias sa gata
Ginataang puso ng saging – banana heart cooked in coconut milk
Other famous dishes:
Bicol express – named after the train. Pork cooked in coconut, a little shrimp paste and lots of chili peppers. In my travels I realized that each Bicolano family has their own version of the dish. Some serve it dried with the fat rendered out and others serve it with the creaminess of the coconut milk
Kinonut na Pagi – shredded sting ray meat cooked in coconut milk.
Fresh Alamang – similar to shrimp paste without the saltiness but is very spicy. Often eaten as an accompaniment in their meals. It's derivative Bicolano homemade patis is also finished off with coconut milk.
There is an abundance is seafood like crabs, tuna, and squid as the provinces are located near the coastal water.
Fish drying is a very common along the sea shores
Sabang port along Camarines Sur boast of their Blue Marlin fishing industry.
Bicol is also known for the Pili Nut which grows only in this region. Culinary applications are similar to pecan or the macadamia nut. Albay has had this industry since the Spanish occupation. Tip for foodies is to look for the "Locsin" brand.
The different pili products
The Pili Nut
Another sweet dish is biniribid – or pinilipit, deep fried rice flour with coconut milk, glazed with brown sugar


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The almost true exploits of an intrepid spinster and her stitching...and all of the things that make up her crazy, happy, quiet little life.
Jul 18, 2014
Right in the eye.
No, seriously....I sat down to start stitching and promptly reached up to brush a forelock from my forehead and poked myself in the eyeball with the needle.
If it weren't for the fact the Stewey laughed so hard (*) he peed the ottoman, I would have been really traumatized. As it is, I checked for blood, slapped a cold compress on my head and went to bed.
Sometimes it's just not at all easy being me.
Now here's the good news in all of this. Because I'm stupid enough to do this stuff and then even stupider enough to tell you all about it, I will get thousands of comments expressing sympathy and suggestions as to how I can live in the world and still be me at the same time.
What would I do without you all? Thank you for your kindness...your inspiration...your tolerance...and most of all for just understanding . You ROCK!
Here's to happy weekends all around.
I. Am. Determined. To. Stitch. If. It's. The. Last. Thing. I. Do.
(*) In case you're wondering, his laughter is rather like that of the beloved Snoopy of Peanuts fame....high pitched, squeaky little giggles that make his whole little self jiggle and shake.
12 comments:
Oh no, you poor thing. Hope everything is OK. Good luck on your next attempt at stitching.ReplyDelete
HUG! LOL I have empathy for ya...I'm a goober too. You go girl! Get that needle going in the RIGHT direction. LOLReplyDelete
Oh no...be carefullReplyDelete
Until you start stitching again, take some updated photos of your Big Wall that you have a lot of your framed stitching on. You posted photos of that wall a few times over the years and I always find the photos inspiring!ReplyDelete
And, that is the reason I love this blog, cause you Coni Rich are a bigger klutz. Hee, heee. don't worry I am not laughing with you, but at you and that is great. I am in Tulsa getting more stash at Silver Needle, whoopee for me. You should be here not in hoosierville poking your eye out.ReplyDelete
I'm just now finding and LOVING your blog, Coni! I went into your archive and found your first entry and Marissa is TOTALLY jealous of your craft-realm. When she can carve out a spot amidst my books and our cat (sorry, no canines--or kids for that matter--in our kingdom) she's a jewelry-making whiz. I look forward to more of your daily wisdom & humor!ReplyDelete
Oh my, seriously. Are you ok???? Sending prayers that nothing is harmed except the stretch muscles in Stewey's tummy from laughing so hard. Sir? It isn't funny! :-o CathrynReplyDelete
OUCH! Glad you are okay.ReplyDelete
Oh my heavens! I hope there will be no lasting damage! And Snoopy is exactly who I imagine Stewey to be like.ReplyDelete
Oh no! I hope your eye is feeling better and still seeing well!ReplyDelete
Not good! Hope you are all better now.ReplyDelete


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According to information provided by BahaiNews, four Baha'i residents of Zahedan after 35 days of detention in the Zahedan ministry were released on bail. According to BahaiNews Hida Yazdan, Bahram Rouhani, Mehrnoush Ramezandadeh and Siavash Rahimi were arrested on 26 November 2016 by the security forces and released on bail a few minutes ago on 31 December 2016.
When they were arrested by security forces, their homes were also searched and their property confiscated.
In recent months, three other Baha'is in the name of Tabasom Hosseini, Emilia Hakimian and Farshid Dadvar had also been arrested in the same province of Zahedan and were released on bail.
According to the Islamic Republic of Iranian Baha'i citizens have citizenship rights, but in practice the Baha'is in Iran continuously suffer persecution and deprivation only because of their Bahá'í belief.
FB, December 31, 2016


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Posted September 12, 2012
New Antidote director Jamie Delaney has been hard at work on several new projects which we can't wait to tell you about! In the meantime here's his first with Antidote, A Place To Gather, a 5 min documentary for the Crafts Council of Ireland.
Setting out to tell 5 different stories about Irish 'makers' from Donegal to Cork, Jamie had the opportunity to cover a range of beautiful places and also put the miles and miles of Irish tarmac to the test. The result is a textured, abstract feel for Ireland, its people and the beauty of its crafts.
The piece is part of the London Design Festival and will be viewed at a specially commissioned CCOI exhibition (Redchurch St in Shoreditch if you fancy popping down). The film will also sit in the EU Parliament foyer as part of Ireland's EU presidency in 2013. Thanks to CCOI, Keith Nally, Jonathan Legge from Makers & Brothers and Garrett Pitcher from Indigo & Cloth.


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Deciding to study in an undergraduate program (bachelor's degree and minor) or post-graduate (master's and doctoral) in social work at the University of Ottawa is a unique opportunity to get socially engaged, and to be at the heart of intervention practices. Over the past 25 years, the School has developed educational programs across the three university cycles, all of which emphasize a critical analysis and research-intervention approach involving groups and organizations from a variety of backgrounds.
Since the graduation of the first cohort in the fall of 1994, the master's program has grown to nearly 583 graduates. Building on its achievements and active participation in its community, the School continued its commitment to academic and professional training in social work in 2006 by setting up a Bachelor's Degree in Social Work. This undergraduate program already has more than 305 graduates. Both of these programs are accredited by the Canadian Association for Social Work Education (CASWE) are designed to train social workers to be able to work with individuals and their families, groups and communities, and this, in an diversified institutional and communal environments, first in French Ontario, its primary mission, but also in Canada and internationally.
Building on its strong anchors, the School expanded its programs in the fall of 2010, by opening a Ph.D. in Social Work. This latter program is distinguished by its approach of critical and contextualized analysis of practices of social intervention. It invites students to take into account the complex cross-fertilization, at the heart of these practices, of the microsocial dimensions (at the level of the individual, groups and communities) and macrosocial (at the level of social relations, Policies and major discourses and socio-economic issues) of social work. The PhD program in Social Work shapes independent researchers and high level professionals. These people are equipped to become leaders in their field, to exercise leadership and to collaborate with intervention and policy formulation environments, thereby contributing to the renewal of social work intervention practices.
As a Director, I would like to extend a warm welcome to you on the School of Social Work website. I hope that the information contained in these pages will spark your interest and will answer your questions. For more information on our programs, do not hesitate to contact us at firstname.lastname@example.com.
Marc Molgat
Full Professor and Director


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Thursday, July 31, 2008
Still not a food blogger
Friday, July 25, 2008
I'm not a cooking blog
For starter we had a mixed salad with wonderful fresh and organic bread:
Pop goes the dinner
Organic pasta, fennel, carrots, and red bell pepper. The base for the sauce was purée from red bell pepper (Paprikamark) which made an incredibly tasty background for the pasta. You can add cheese if want to stock up your proteins.
Thursday, July 10, 2008
Last Days in Dublin
On the way I found a cool 'Viking' boat, ehhm...ship.
The rest of the day I spent on the shopping streets, but I had a wonderful lunch at the all-vegetarian little restaurant, the Cornucopia Wicklow Street. After all the overcooked vegetables during our excursion, it was a real wellcome change (I was the only vegetarian in our group).
Now that I have bought more than 10 kg of books I thought no more books anymore and therefore today I went to Trinity college, to see the book of Kells, a manuscript from around AD 800. A hefty price of 7 Euros for students for a small exhibition of a couple of medieval manuscripts but a beautifully made exhibtion, that I have to admit.
And this is all for Dublin because now I am sitting at the airport and thanks to free i-net (thanks to eircom) I wirte my last post of my trip to Ireland. From now on it will be all boring stuff again :)
And a last tribute to my favourite cider:
Tuesday, July 08, 2008
Dublin on my own
I spent the rest of the morning and the early afternoon in the National Museum of Dublin. Unfortunately you can't take photographs. Which is a sad thing, since it hosts wonderful artefacts. Here are just some appetizers:
the macehead from the passagetomb of Knowth:
the Tara brooch:
Arnold 1977
The shield from Lough Gur:
and many other splendid things, gold lunulae, decorated stones, high crosses, Egyptian artefacts, Cypriotic vases, and, and, and...
After a short break at the museum's café and nut-and-lentil roast I was energized enough to have a look at the Chhrist Church Cathedral; It was originally begun to be built in 1038 by King Sithric Silkenbeard, the Danish Viking King of Dublinthis. Howeer it was intensively remodelled and renovated, especially from the 16th century onwards and so hardly any original details remained. This is a view of the bell tower:
The stained windows in the Cathedral (Patrick is wearing pink :)) )
The beautiful floor tiles:
And the 'Enterprise' in the crypt:
I finished the day with 'The Weir' at the Gate Theatre:
From their webpage (http://www.gate-theatre.ie/prog.html)
The Weir, by acclaimed playwright Conor McPherson, premiered at the Gate in 1998 to critical and successful acclaim. This atmospheric tour de force, set in present day rural Ireland, finds Valerie, on arriving at a small country bar, spellbound by an evening of ghostly stories from the local bachelors. Their tales, both funny and chilling, are a mesmerising mixture of rumour and local legend. However, much to their surprise, she has her own story to tell…
Monday, July 07, 2008
The high cross that belonged to the church is now situated in the former mill:
We then had a short drive to see the Monaincha monastery which was built on a small island. The lake was drained in the last century, so we could easily walk there. It became a famous pilgrimage site and it is still called the'holy island'. In the 10th century publication The Annals of the Four Masters it was described as the 31st Wonder of The World, though unfortunately it didn't say what the other wonders were.
We then went to the Cistercian Abbey Mount St. Joseph Abbey, which was founded in 1878. We had lunch there in the guest house and then a tour through the monastery and it's library:
This was the end of our WAC-6 post-congress tour and we returned safely to Dublin. So this is my last night on the UCD campus.
Sunday, July 06, 2008
The Burren
We had lunch at the wonderful and recently opened 'An Fulacht Fia' which is the name of a prehistoric cooking place. If you ever happen to be in this area don't miss the oppotunity to have lunch or dinner at this stylish restaurant...their homebaked bread is heavenly and the view (the Atlantic) is fantastic, too.
And the best for last, a Portal Dolmen with 20 burials from 3800 to 3200 BC, called Poulnabrone.
Saturday, July 05, 2008
WAC-6 6th Day
Next stop was the partially drained Lough Gur, a horseshoe-shaped lake with loads of archaeology around it. No wonder it is such a pretty area, I would have settled there, too. Although some people probably would complain because of all the wetland insects.
This is Bouchiers castle, a five storey tower built by the Anglo-Norman in the 14th century:
It was a long but very rewarding day and we finished it off with a wonderful dinner at the Kilmurry Lodge Hotel:
Thursday, July 03, 2008
WAC-6 4th Day
The second session was about seasonality and rock art and a number of presentations were really interesting, especially one from South Central Africa that linked the depicted signs to initiation rites through ethnographical examples. There were also wacky ones that tried to link the megalithic art of Irish passage tombs to the spawning of salmon. According to Robert Hensey the motif on the lower left are fish scales of salmon. Well, it didn't convince me at the least.
During lunch break there was a plenary session about Tara and the new M3 motorway with many supporters (the minister, a local, and the excavation contract company) but also some archaeologist and students that accused them of falsifying data, bullying people and so on. Hopefully a landscape that is so important for the history of Ireland can be saved. But since money rules the world I fear we will lose this archaeologically and historically rich landscape around the hill of Tara.
Got to http://www.savetara.com/ or http://www.tarawatch.org/ for more information. And listen to what Prof. George Eogan has to say about Tara and the M3:
The last session was about rock art again and this one was really crazy. A lady tried to associate Palaeolithic cave art with mentally ill people, and a Professor from Toronto tried, with the help of a numerologist, to make an alphabet out of Palaeolithic abstract signs. The best part was how a museum in Portugal tried to bring rock art and people together and the contribution from George Nash who re-studied megalithic art and found a lot of up to now not detected motifs, from simple cupmarks to wonderfully pecked feet.
In the evening was the WAC party with -not only Guiness- but also a bronze caster
and a group of musicians:
You see, it was a long day again.


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Weeks of chip-less wear and a shine factor that just won't quit? The beauty of a gel manicure can't be beat. The aftermath, however, isn't pretty. Over time, the long-lasting mani can leave your nails thin, flimsy, and peeling. Ready to give your fingertips a much-needed lacquer break and nurse them back to their once-healthy state? Keep reading for the post-gel rehab plan you so desperately need!
Step one: Gentle buffing evens out the nail plate to prevent further peeling. A little buffing action once or twice a week also increases blood circulation, so new, healthy nails can grow back quicker.
Your nails may be incredibly fragile right now. One little nick could lead to a painful tear. Until your nails recover, keep them short and slightly rounded (which is the strongest shape). Now more than ever, be careful to only file your nails in one direction—not back and forth. And use a fine-grit file to avoid snagging.
Weekly soaks also help in the recovery process. Try dunking your fingertips into a moisturizing bath of warm olive oil for 10 minutes. You can also empty a vitamin E capsule into soak for added strengthening power. Whole milk, which is rich in moisture-replenishing fats, is another good option.


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Matthew Maton on Grant Fisher: 'It's Going to be a Battle'
Maton walks 'Track After Dark' through the race, talks about the events surrounding his departure from his high school team and prom with Alexa Efraimson.
By Lincoln Shryack, FloTrack
Brand-new sub-4 Miler Matthew Maton joins the podcast to discuss his historic performance over the weekend, where he became the sixth high schooler to run under 4 minutes. His 3:59.38 ranks him as the 3rd fastest U.S. HS boy all-time, behind only Alan Webb and Jim Ryun.
Continue reading at: www.flotrack.org