text:
In his new book based on a series of interviews with Bill Clinton, Taylor Branch provides a remarkable account of a conversation between Clinton and Al Gore late in 2000, after Gore's presidential campaign had finally ended in perhaps the post painful defeat imaginable.
Clinton told Gore, Branch writes, that he was disappointed that he wasn't used more in the campaign's final days and that Gore had not developed any overarching theme. Gore countered that Clinton had never personally apologized to him for the Monica Lewinsky scandal and that he was still traumatized by the 1996 fundraising scandals. Gore also suggested that Clinton was to blame for his defeat by George W. Bush
"I thought he was in Neverland," Clinton told Branch.
But even Lost Boys grow up. And while appearances can and often have been deceiving when it comes to the complicated case of Al Gore and Bill Clinton, friends and current and former associates say there are increasing signs that they are growing back into a friendship . . . or a least a civil relationship in which bygones remain bygones.
A joint appearance at Jackson Day dinner in Nashville in late August marked three co-billed Clinton/Gore events in the past several months. One of those, the airport tarmac return in Burbank, Calif., of two journalists held by North Korea, featured Gore saluting Clinton as "my partner and friend," and wrapping him in a lengthy, seemingly genuine hug.
In Music City, Gore said not once, but twice, that he was "so proud of Bill Clinton." And Clinton was similarly effusive. Gore, he said "was the best vice president this country ever had. And if you think about the difference between Al Gore and Dick Cheney, no one can say it doesn't make any difference who the vice president is."
Is this sense of détente real? Friend and former aides say it is, at least to a point.
Clinton always wanted Gore's friendship, in the same fashion that he prefers to be friends with almost everyone he meets. Gore's feelings, people close to him say, have always been more complicated. But he seems to have mellowed on Clinton as he has gained his own celebrity and international stature and his former partner's gigantic shadow over him has lessened. The sting of Gore's 2000 disputed Electoral College loss to Bush is also receding.
Gore associates also say Clinton's role in helping deliver the two journalists, who worked for Gore's Current TV project in California, can not be underestimated in adding new warmth to their relationship and that Gore's emotion in thanking Clinton was very real.
A former Clinton White House official — who, like most contacted for this story, wanted no part of talking about the Clinton-Gore relationship on the record — said Gore's rage toward Clinton has eased and that there is something to the perception that they are reaching for a new civility.
But the former official also warned against believing the two men have become soul mates — and suggested that a shared interest in seeing the Obama administration's key goals achieved is more of a factor here than the healing of deep, old wounds.
"It started thawing around Sept. 11, when they were forced to do events together. But I know that for quite some time, Gore would not be seen with Clinton," the former Clinton aide said.
"As Gore has cut his own path and with all of the accolades, he seems to be settling down as far as this relationship goes. Clinton, as always, does not want this to end the wrong way.
"My guess is that it is a continuing process in the personal direction — but at its heart, it's a business relationship," the aide concluded. "It's not a personal one."
The circumstances surrounding the Jackson Day dinner tend to support that view. Clinton agreed to appear after he was asked by his old friend, former Tennessee governor Ned Ray McWherter, whose son Mike is running for governor. Gore then asked to join, according to a state Democratic official, because he made a pretty basic political calculus: "Clinton is coming to my town, so I guess I better show up."
Several Gore associates also warned against reading too much into the summer mini-tour by Clinton and Gore, which also included an energy event in Las Vegas at the quest of Senate Majority Leader Harry Reid.
In their view, the Clinton-Gore feud was never as bad as the media has made it out to be and the seeming distance between the two men was a natural byproduct of the fact that they no longer worked in the same building or lived in the same city.
"When you see three events, it's a trend, but I think their relationship is a lot like an iceberg — there is a lot more below the surface than what meets the eye. What's happened this year is there's been a lot more above the surface," said a Gore insider who also requested anonymity in order to speak freely.
"People don't see phone calls. Those things aren't necessarily publicized, nor should they be. Here are two guys interested in a lot of the same things and what's interesting now is that action is possible on a lot of the issues they care about."
A former aide to both Clinton and Gore said that while the relationship has seen predictable ups and downs, a connection has always endured.
"They live in different cities, so it's not like they would run into each other in the normal course of events. They talk often and see each other on these occasions when their schedules overlap. ... They still remain two of the most popular figures in the party," the former aide said.
"There was a time when they spent three-quarters of their day together. That's not possible anymore, but there is a bond there. And given everything that they've gone through together, it's a pretty strong bond. It would have to be."
Other Clinton administration veterans, however, question how strong the Clinton-Gore bond ever was and suggest that the depiction of the two as characters from a politically-themed buddy movie in 1992 was largely a media myth.
While most of their colleagues agree that Clinton and Gore had a cohesive working relationship in their first term, they never saw them as having a deep personal friendship. "They were never really friends but business partners where their interests lined up perfectly in the '92 campaign and first term," said the former White House official.
They were, and are, deeply different personalities. With his once-in-a-generation political skills and effortless gift of gab, Clinton never quite got Gore's brainy awkwardness and seeming inability to totally master the basic stagecraft of running for office. For his part, Gore, by numerous accounts, was horrified by Clinton's lack of discipline, an irritation that grew to near-revulsion when the details of his affair with Lewinsky finally became public.
There is also the clash of southern archetypes in the Clinton-Gore saga — a clash that has often echoed in the lives of both men. Clinton, for all his tours through Oxford, New Haven and ultimately Washington, is at his heart a lower-middle class kid from Hot Springs, Ark. He saw Gore, the son of Tennessee who actually grew up in Washington as the son of a senator, as a quintessential elitist. As Clinton once said of another stiff Southern politician who has stayed too long in the North: "He'd ask for Chablis at a fish fry."
Yet the pride both men clearly feel in what they accomplished in office seems — now, nearly 10 years on — to have begun to override all that. As does the sense often felt by their less celebrated fellow citizens that the longer you live, the harder it can be to remember why you are so mad at someone.
Many of those who worked with them hope that a friendship, however uneasy, ultimately broadens between the two men who, for better or worse, have come to define a successful era of Democratic politics.
"Remember, Ford and Carter beat each others brains out, as did (George H.W.) Bush and Clinton, and they became pretty close," said the former White House official. "I don't see why Clinton and Gore can't do the same."


text:
Earlier media reports that the floor of the New York Stock Exchange is flooded under three feet of water are totally false.
A NYSE spokesperson called it "irresponsible reporting by Weather Channel, CNN" and others, according to @AdrienneLaF.
The rumor started almost an hour ago and traders and floor brokers heard it too.
A NYSE floor broker told us he heard it, but was relieved to hear that the floor is dry.
Now check out this shot of the facade of the NYSE lit up in red, white and blue.
Here's the CNN report saying there's three feet of water on the NYSE floor.
A live cam in the NYSE shows the floor is totally dry...

subset: commoncrawl


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Dec 07, 2004 | ISBN 9780679776123
"Banner has intertwined not only the lives of Mead and Benedict, but all the assumptions about women and sex in the first half of the twentieth century. The history of anthropology has never been so plainly set forth. An amazing, invaluable, unprecedented book–a delight to read."
–Carolyn Heilbrun, author of Writing A Woman's Life
"A most amazing, magnificent, and very moving chronicle of Lesbian brilliance. Lois Banner continues to break down bigoted barriers and write real history."
–Larry Kramer, author of The Normal Heart
"Intertwined Lives is a luscious detective story in which Banner ingenuously finds the clues and breaks the codes critical to understanding these two giants of American intellectual life and the bond between them. Banner has written a rich and incisive biography of their relationship, but she has also written a book that helps us make sense of that pivotal cultural shift as the Victorian sexual system gives way to the modern. How did people born into the Victorian world, but coming of age in the modern, negotiate this transition? Here, Banner allows us to see Mead and Benedict up close as they grapple with, even as they help shape, a new order that holds both pleasures and terrors for hem. A canny book and a must-read for anyone interested in the history of sexuality and gender."
–Alice Echols, author of Scars of Sweet Paradise: The Life and Times of Janis Joplin
"Margaret Mead and Ruth Benedict loved anthropology, and they loved each other. They concealed that second love during their lifetimes, but left ample clues for a bold and sensitive biographer to recreate the richness of their shared personal and professional lives. Lois Banner is that biographer."
— Susan Ware, editor of Notable American Women
"Intertwined Lives is an enticing and gorgeous adventure story about two brilliant divas, whose intellectual travels also involved extraordinary experiments in friendship and sexual love. Banner's approach to these amazing women is both erudite and wonderfully imaginative."
–Christine Stansell, author of American Moderns
"An engrossing narrative….bringing Mead and Benedict to life and placing
then with their circle of friends in a lovely mosaic."
— Christopher Carbone, Washington Post Book World
"A brilliant introduction to two women who stood in the vanguard of a new America."
–Jamie Spencer, St. Louis Post-Dispatch
"A major work, impressive in its depth and breadth."
— Joan Gartland, Library Journal
Prologue: The Sybils
Prologue: Rome, 1926
Part I: Ancestry
1 Pioneering Women and Men
Part II: Backgrounds
2 Apollo and Dionysus: Ruth Benedict's Childhood
3 "The Young-Eyed Cherubim": Margaret Mead's Childhood
Part III: Searching for Self
4 "Smashing": Female Romantic Friendships
5 "Mary Wollstonecraft": Ruth Benedict and Early Twentieth-Century Feminism
Part IV: From New York City to New Guinea
6 DePauw University, Barnard College, and the Making of Margaret Mead
7 "Unicorns at Sunrise": Anthropology, Poetry, Gender, and Ruth Benedict
8 Free Love and Samoa
9 Bread and Wine: Creating a Friendship, 1926–1931
Part V: Intellect and Emotions
10 "Two Strings to His Bow": Ruth Benedict and Patterns of Culture
11 The "Squares" on the Sepik: Sex and Temperament, Part 1
12 From the Hanover Conference to the Witches of Bali: Sex and Temperament, Part 2
13 Race, Gender, and Sexuality
Part VI: World War II and Beyond
14 Ripeness Is All


text:
Today, Mr Baek Gyuseok, Deputy Minister of Environment of the Republic of Korea and Julia Marton-Lefèvre, Director General of, the International Union for Conservation of Nature (IUCN), signed a four-year Framework Partnership at IUCN Headquarters in Switzerland.
"IUCN is delighted to welcome the Republic of Korea, represented by the Ministry of Environment, as its newest and first Framework Partner from East Asia. We hope that other countries will join this important group. We are grateful for the Republic of Korea's continued commitment to conservation and we look forward to strengthening our collaboration over the next four years" said Julia Marton-Lefèvre.
The Republic of Korea joins IUCN's current Framework Partners of IUCN, namely: Denmark, Finland, France, Norway, Sweden, Switzerland, the United Arab Emirates and the MAVA Foundation.
As a Framework Partner, the Ministry of Environment will provide core funds to support IUCN's Programme 2013-2016. The Programme, approved by IUCN Members at the World Conservation Congress, aims to mobilize communities working for biodiversity conservation, sustainable development and poverty reduction in common efforts to halt biodiversity loss and apply nature-based solutions to conserve biodiversity, enhance resilience, strengthen equity, reduce poverty and so improve the wellbeing of people on this planet.
IUCN's collaboration with the Republic of Korea has gone from strength to strength following the very successful 2012 IUCN World Conservation Congress which was held from 6 to 15 September 2012 on the South Korean island of Jeju, where leaders from government, the public sector, non-governmental organizations, business, UN agencies and academia came together to discuss, debate and decide solutions for the world's most pressing environment and development issues.
The 2012 IUCN Congress was able to leave a legacy both at the local level in Jeju and the wider Republic of Korea, as well as driving forward global conservation. The Jeju Declaration, signed at the closing of the Congress, recognises that nature offers important solutions to some of the world's most pressing challenges in climate change, sustainable energy, food security, and economic and social development. Through this Declaration, the Republic of Korea and the Jeju Special Self-Governing Province committed to set up the "Jeju World Leaders' Conservation Forum", with support from IUCN.
"We are delighted to join the Framework Partnership following the 2012 IUCN Congress held in Jeju, Korea. By joining the Partnership, Korea hopes to make contribution to the world's nature conservation and sustainable development, and that the Partnership serves as an opportunity to strengthen cooperation between the ROK and IUCN." said Mr Baek.
The Republic of Korea joined IUCN as a State Member in 2006. Today, its membership in IUCN includes 27 non-governmental organisations and five government agencies.
For more information contact:
Lucy Deram-Rollason, Head, Strategic Partnerships, IUCN [email protected]
Shin Dong-In, Liaison Manager, Ministry of Environment, Republic of Korea [email protected]


text:
You are now privy to trustworthy information about any Caroline Orr from the state of OH, as a member of USA-People-Search.com. Our website provides the best responses for a search query, thus enabling you to quickly identify the right Caroline Orr along with vital details like phone numbers and age.
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The search for Caroline Orr should not intimidate you. At USA-People-Search.com, you can modify your search to ensure appropriate results. When you include extra details pertaining to Caroline, like an old address or a middle name, you will see a huge improvement in the responses. When you locate the person you want to find, register with us to gain access to their full profile.
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text:
mar515 necesitaba un nuevo diseño de logotipo y lanzó un concurso de diseño en 99designs.
Un ganador ha sido elegido entre 77 diseños de 14 diseñadores freelance.
Looking for a butterfly design that has a clean simple, contemporary style that is fresh, lively and professional. The target market is primarily professional women seeking transition coaching, relationship coaching, personal development, leadership development
Monarch Life Design
As monarch butterfly goes through various life stages…I want to communicate the beauty of life...transformation, change, growing, learning, overcoming obstacles, perseverance, renewal, discovery, stepping out with boldness, being purposeful.
I am also open to the meaning of monarch as in "one who commands or rules…surpassing others in power or preminence."
- I want "Monarch" to stand out more than "life design"
- I'd also like a graphic element/s that I can use without the words… can be the same as the one with the words, or a different but related image.
- Vector based design compatable with AI/EPS format.
- Contemporary style that is fresh, lively.
- I'm open to different colors, and especially attracted to blues, teals, greens, tans. Okay to use whatever colors will tell the story best.
- Would like to use in different mediums, b/w, color for website, business cards, etc.
- I don't want anything too feminine.
Descubre cómo funciona un concurso de diseño u obtén más información sobre nuestros servicios de diseño de logo.


text:
Ambre Screen Print
Ambre Screen Print
A blue geometric design hand screen printed onto beautifully textured paper. Available framed and unframed. Perfect for adding a pop of colour to a room, this wall art is a great complement to a neutral palette.
700mm x 500mm
Made in England:
Designed by Joff and Ollie, exclusively for Lane.
Paper from GF Smith, made by James Cropper, one of the oldest and last remaining speciality paper makers, based in the Lake District.
Made in Nottingham by local craftspeople and at the Lane workshop.
Light blue, dark blue, black
Related Products:
Frame Options:
Available in a matt black aluminium frame with optically clear acrylic. Our high quality frames are specifically chosen to complement the proportions of the print and come highly recommended.
Unframed option: rolled in tissue paper and boxed.
Paper Environmental Details: Recycled and biodegradable; very low production miles; FSC accredited and heavy metal free; classified ECF ('elemental chlorine free' - the bleaching process avoids the use of harmful chlorine).
UK Standard: 2-3 working days.
Next Day Delivery and available.
International delivery: 3-5 working days.
Delivery information: delivery and returns page.
For more information on our delivery policy, go to the delivery and returns page.


text:
BillionGraves.com is based on using iPhone and iPads with a connection to the Internet to upload photos of gravemarkers as they are taken in the cemetery. It has grown to the point where, if a marker is missing from FindAGrave.com, then you should certainly check for a photo on BillionGraves.com.
Well, in the month of May, 2013, the BillionGraves.com website is promoting a goal to add a million more photos. Here is a explanation of their goal:
The goal is to add a million more images to BillionGraves during the month of May. If only 500 of our users upload 2,000 images this month we can easily reach this! That's only 65 images per day (only 500 images per week)!From the genealogical standpoint, the more websites gathering information, the merrier. If you have a smartphone with GPS, how about a stroll through a nearby cemetery in May?
With only 500 of our thousands of contributors taking 1-2 trips to their local cemetery each week, we could reach this awesome goal!


text:
Editorial Note
Copyright (c) 2017 Left History: An Interdisciplinary Journal of Historical Inquiry and Debate
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.
Left History, its trademark, and its content are held under the copyright of the journal, which is published in the York University Department of History. Reproduction of articles and/or reviews, either in whole or in part, requires the permission of the journal. Uses covered under limitations and exceptions to copyright, such as fair use, do not require permission from the journal. All other uses require permission. If permission is required from the journal to reproduce work elsewhere, and profit is made from this reproduction, a payment must be sent to the journal directly. Authors of a specific article retain the right to reproduce his/her/their article in a collection without permission from the journal. Left History is committed to Open Access by publishing articles directly online. We are amenable to authors negotiating to put a copy or pre-publication version of an article in an institutional repository.


text:
- This event has passed.
Downeast Table of Plenty (DETOP): Free Community Supper
July 14 @ 3:00 pm - 5:00 pm
An event every week that begins at 3:00 pm on Sunday, repeating until June 21, 2020
Please join us this Sunday, for our Downeast Table of Plenty (DETOP).
Would you like to host a DETOP meal? Thank you. Please go to the calendar website (SignUp), and schedule your Sunday, or email Wendy Harrington.
CHERRYFIELD, ME — Each Sunday afternoon, 3:30-5:00 pm, at the Mission's Downeast Table of Plenty, everyone is welcome to share satisfying, home-cooked meals.
People age two to ninety, from every segment of the community attend. Music, conversation, and laughter preside. Hunger and loneliness are nowhere in sight.
The Table of Plenty takes place in the EdGE building on our Downeast Campus every Sunday, 3:30 to 5:00 p.m. Meals are provided by volunteers.
If you would like to host a meal, please go to the calendar website Sign Up and schedule your Sunday or email Wendy Harrington.


text:
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The Accounting Historians Journal Vol. 12, No. 2 Fall 1985 Terry K. Sheldahl SAVANNAH, GEORGIA AMERICA'S EARLIEST RECORDED TEXT IN ACCOUNTING: SARJEANT'S 1789 BOOK Abstract: In 1789, seven years before the text developed by "pioneer Ameri-can [accounting] author" William Mitchell appeared, Thomas Sarjeant of Phila-delphia published An Introduction to the Counting House. It was a concise and able expression of a long mercantile bookkeeping tradition destined to result in later American texts. A mathematics teacher in England and a Philadelphia "academy," Sarjeant also contributed works on commercial arithmetic. There is significant bibliographical evidence that An Introduction to the Count-ing House, which is readily available within a remarkable historical microform series, was the first text on accounting to be produced by an American writer. An important advance in the evolution of accounting education in the United States was the advent of accounting books published originally in this country by resident authors. A text by William Mitchell appearing in 1796 is widely known; it has also been noted that a Philadelphia mathematics professor, Benjamin Workman, had written a book bearing an accounting title seven years earlier. Workman's text did not, however, cover accounting subjects. Authoritative research on early printing reveals no earlier American texts on accounting, nor, except for a 1788 collection of writings by English author Charles Hutton, even local editions of (or com-pilations from) overseas works addressed more than incidentally to the field. Yet a book by another Philadelphia mathematics teacher that also appeared in 1789 was primarily a text on mercantile book-keeping. The purpose of this paper is to call attention to An Intro-duction to the Counting House as the earliest recorded American accounting text, issued precisely at the beginning of the constitu-tional republic, and to Thomas Sarjeant as thus apparently the charter American author. Sarjeant, a transplanted Englishman who taught commercial subjects at an American academy, gave an exposition of mercantile accounting. Claiming no originality for his concise treatment of single- and double-entry procedures and re-


text:
I am desperately trying to export the values in a raster table to a .txt file. I've seen some other folk post about this, but for some reason can't get the code to work in my case.
I have a raster, with table already built, called "shed". I simply want to export two fields, "Value" and "Count", to a .txt or .csv file (called "try" in this case). So far, I haven't even been able to get a script that even looks at the raster's table. So far I have:
for row in rows:
But "val" and "count" always fail to become anything- they just remain empty values! Am I missing something? Maybe some sort of import I have overlooked?


text:
Mysu necesitaba un nuevo diseño de logotipo y lanzó un concurso de diseño en 99designs.
Un ganador ha sido elegido entre 117 diseños de 38 diseñadores freelance.
MSU - Maynooth Students' Union
We are a students' union, which means quite simply that we are a body who represents all the students in our university, we try to ensure the lecturers treat students fairly, any problems - academic, emotional or financial are looked after to the best of our ability, through direct intervention or through guidance to external services and supports.
We also have a bar and venue, which plays host to international acts, and we produce a newspaper.
We want to connect with our students, but also be taken seriously by any other bodies that we have contact with.
The logo should incorporate 'MSU' and also 'Maynooth Students' Union' in a smaller font. The colours & design should be current, but ideally not date too quickly. As mentioned above, our primary audience is the student body - 17 yrs upwards, but it should also look professional and ensure we are taken seriously by the various bodies that we deal with on a day to day basis.
Possible key words to use as a starting point:
We understand that our offer is at the lower end of the scale, however this is our first time using 99 Designs and if successful, we would hope to utilise it in the future and offer more attractive payments.
Descubre cómo funciona un concurso de diseño u obtén más información sobre nuestros servicios de diseño de logo.


text:
The three heirs, in three separate taxis, converged on 33 Everdene Walk on a fine afternoon in late May. They were in their early fifties, and had not met since they were sixteen or seventeen. Amanda, who had been officious even as a teen-ager, had organized the meeting by e-mail, via the solicitors: "If we're all going to the house, why don't we go at the same time? Wouldn't it be fun to meet up?"
Now each was regretting having agreed to this.
Chris, who was a lecturer at a new university, was certain that he had spotted Amanda at the station, ahead of him in the queue for taxis; he had been too embarrassed to make himself known to her, even though they could have shared the fare. She surely hadn't had all that red hair thirty-five years ago, and she hadn't seemed so tall then, or so loosely put together: the woman in the queue wasn't large, exactly, but physically complicated, with a bright-colored striped wrap tossed over one shoulder which made him think of beachwear. Perhaps she lived in a hot country. He'd recognized her only when she threw her unguarded, emphatic glance at everyone behind her in the queue—boldly but blindly. Quailing, Chris was suddenly his anguished seventeen-year-old self again, stripped of his disguise as someone experienced and distinguished. His memories of Mandy, young, were dim but had an ominous intensity. He wished he hadn't come. He knew already that he wouldn't want anything, anyway, from the horrible old house. At least he wouldn't be alone with Amanda; although when he tried to recover his memories of Susan, the other godchild, he couldn't find anything at all, only a neatly labelled vacancy.
The three taxis bore them, just a few minutes apart, out of the city center, then, swooping decorously downhill between traffic lights, through a species of suburb that seemed more remote from their present lives than anywhere they ever went on holiday. The sleepy, wide road was lined with limes, then flowering cherries; they passed a little brick-built library, a church, discreetly evangelical. Infantile knee-high white-painted gates opened onto bungalow gardens smothering under the pink and white foam of their shrubs and beds, weigela and flowering currant, waterfalls of clematis; the semi-detached house fronts were festooned with nostalgic wisteria. Four-by-fours were drawn up off the road, on asphalted drives. The sun shone unfalteringly, embalming everything; seeds and pollen drifted sidelong in the motionless air. What it brought back was not so much their past as a past beyond their past. By the time these three had come, as children, to visit their godmother here, their more fashionable parents had already decided that the suburbs were dreary: places to joke about, not to aspire to. Their parents were doing up, in those days, spindly dilapidated eighteenth-century houses, bought cheap, in the city center. Susan's mother still lived in one of these, now worth a great deal, and Susan had spent the previous night in her childhood bed. In her taxi, she was hardly thinking of the meeting ahead—except to wish that she weren't going to it. She was obsessing over jagged old irritations, roused by a conversation with her mother that morning.
Chris's and Susan's taxis pulled up outside 33 Everdene Walk at the same moment; Amanda had got there before them, and the front door stood open to what seemed, to their foreboding, a seething blackness, in contrast to the glare outside. Who knew what state the house would be in? Susan was quicker, paying her taxi off; Chris was always afraid that he would tip too little or too much. She looked away while he probed in his change purse, then they politely pretended to recognize each other. He tried to dig back in his mind to their old acquaintance: how hadn't he seen that the invisible, unremembered Susan might grow into this slim, long-faced, long-legged dark woman, somewhat ravaged but contained and elegant?
Meanwhile, Amanda, watching from a window she had just opened upstairs, saw thirty-five years of change heaped in one awful moment on both their heads. They looked broken-down to her, appalling. On her way to the house, she had bullied her resisting taxi-driver into two consecutive U-turns between the lime trees: visited by a premonition of just this disappointment, and then recovering, repressing her dread, willing herself to hope. Amanda remembered the old days more vividly than either of the others, cherished the idea of their shared past—strangely, because at the time she had seemed the one most ready to trample it underfoot, on her way to better things. Now she revolted at Chris's untidy gray-white locks, windswept without wind, around his bald patch: why did men yield so readily to their disintegration? At least Susan had the decency to keep her hair brown and well cut. Chris was stooping and bobbing at Susan, smiling lopsidedly, self-deprecatory. He wound one foot behind the other calf, rubbing his shoe on his trouser leg; when he'd done that at seventeen, it had seemed to Amanda a sign of a tormented sensibility, which she had ached to explore and conquer.
She whistled from the window, piercing the Walk's tranquillity.
"Come on up!" she shouted. "Prepare for the Chamber of Horrors!"
Not only the air inside the house but the light, from forty-watt bulbs, seemed ancient and rotten. The curtains were drawn across the windows in all the rooms. Odds and ends of furniture—a folding card table, a standard lamp, a barometer, picture frames showing peeling strips of passe-partout—were piled in the hall, half sorted, inventoried, forlorn and sour with damp. The house had been empty for a year, from the time of their godmother Vivien's death. But none of the three had visited it since long before that, when they were teen-agers and came together. Chris had fallen out of touch with Vivien completely, decades earlier, on political grounds, and because it had never occurred to him that he owed her any duty; Amanda and Susan had seen her occasionally in London over the years, separately, and not recently.
Susan stopped abruptly in the hall.
"But it's so tiny!" she said. "Was it always this size? How come I remember it as spacious?"
"I don't remember anything," Chris said, alarmed. "Is it some form of dementia? I thought I remembered the house, but I'd swear I've never set foot in here before."
"I've got rid of the solicitor," Amanda called from somewhere over their heads. "We've got it all to ourselves. I said we'd return the key to him when we finished. He was glad to get out—who can blame him? Isn't it horrid? They'll never sell it, will they?"
A squat staircase crawled up one wall from the varnished parquet in the hall; at the top, three bedrooms opened off a landing, along with a toilet and a bathroom whose stains they shuddered at, half guessing them. Amanda loomed in a doorway: years ago, the striped thing draped over her shoulder would have been called a poncho. Her voice was more familiar to Chris and Susan than her person: caramel, hectoring, running on and on. What they both remembered most clearly—though differently—about the young Mandy was her physical perfection, as simple as a drawing done in a single curving line. Whatever she had worn in those days—a dress, or jeans and a T-shirt—had suggested her stepping out of it in one smooth movement. Her ease in her own body had been morally terrifying to the others. Her face was still bright—she had good skin and a thick mane of hair—but the rest of her had grown overbearing, to match her voice. Now she wore flat shoes and harem pants and a lot of jewelry.
Amanda had brought a packet of colored stickers. The plan for today, devised by her, was that they should each choose a color and put stickers on any items they wanted, then go shares on a man with a van to collect it all and deliver it to their respective homes. They had been invited to take whatever they liked from the house. They had also been left quite a few thousand pounds each, from a trust fund. This had come as a pleasant surprise to Chris, who was genuinely not worldly enough to have thought of the possibility, and had pretty much forgotten that he had a godmother. None of them were heir to the property itself, which had gone to a niece and a nephew, deserving because they had been kind to Vivien in her old age.
"Oh, is this her?" Chris picked up a photograph from the top of a chest of drawers, where it was arranged on a lace doily along with a tin alarm clock and a cut-glass dish full of buttons and paper clips, everything soft with dust. "The face does ring a bell." He was reassured. "She's starting to come back to me."
In the photograph, Vivien wore a checkered dress with a Peter Pan collar. Her small laughing eyes, horsy long jaw, and exuberant big-toothed smile were sandwiched between two circles of glass, held in a base of faded Art Deco plastic.
"Somehow, she persuaded us she was good-looking," Amanda said. "She used to seem so glamorous."
Susan crossed to the open window, as if to breathe. "This place is giving me the creeps. I don't want anything."
"Don't be silly," Amanda said. "Take it, and sell it on eBay."
"It's all old junk. Nothing's even antique."
"You'll be surprised what you can get for it."
Susan was fishing in her handbag. "I'm going to call the cab back. This was a mistake. Sorry, Mandy. I've had a dreadful morning with my mother."
Amanda, focussing, took in properly for the first time that Susan's understated bag was made of leather as soft as cloth, and that her clothes were sumptuous: simple cream linen dress, cranberry-red cashmere cardigan over her shoulders.
"Actually, it's giving me the creeps, too," Chris said, looking nervously from one woman to the other. "I could use a cab—if you don't mind sharing, Susan?"
"Oh, no!" Amanda wailed. "You pigs! You can't leave me here on my own. It's not fair!"
Chris and Susan stared at this overflowing stranger, claiming them. Both felt an inappropriate anxiety that she might howl with tears, and they might be held, unjustly, to blame for it.
"Please," she said, softening. "We can do the stickers later. We could go out in the garden; we could find a local pub. But we can't just let one another go as easily as that, as if none of it meant anything. Can we?"
Chris was bewildered. "None of what?"
It wasn't anything sinister or criminal. Every few months, year after year, Vivien's father—Daddy—tiny, bulky-shouldered, ill-tempered, with a burnished, age-spotted bald pate, had picked them up in his car from their respective houses and driven them to Everdene Walk in a grim silence that was almost hieratic, as if they were sacrifices heaped up for his daughter, visiting from London, where she worked as a P.A. to a succession of managers at ITN and Granada. From his driver's seat, Daddy had emanated the distaste of a serious man for the frivolity of children, and an alarm that they might in some way damage his beige leather upholstery. But Vivien had been lovely to them, in her way. She had no children of her own: this was what their parents had always said when handing them over, as though they were being sent to soak up some surplus of mothering that childless women couldn't help secreting. But Vivien wasn't mother-like at all. She had not married, and Amanda and Susan learned only later—Chris never knew about it, because he wasn't interested—of her lifelong love affair with a married man in London. By the time of the children's visits, whatever friendship had originally made each set of parents choose Vivien as a godmother had melted away: Vivien was too bossy, she was a snob, she belonged to a world of musty charm and optimism that their parents were leaving behind in the nineteen-sixties. The parents had been apologetic, actually, when Daddy's car came, for sending their children as their proxies, when they were too bored to go themselves. But the children hadn't minded, and not only because of the treats.
"None of what?" Chris asked, afraid that he'd missed something.
"Us!" Amanda swept her arm to indicate the three of them, the sleeve of her poncho catching in a wickerwork pagoda on a side table. "We were really close, weren't we? We were three odd solitary kids and we didn't make friends easily, but here we met without any baggage, and we got on. It meant a lot to me."
Sometimes Amanda reread old volumes of her diary; she still wrote in it, too, filling pages copiously when things weren't going well.
The others were accusing. "You weren't solitary."
"I was the most solitary of all: at least you both had brothers and sisters."
"You were awfully spoiled," Susan said, "with your ballet lessons and your deportment lessons and your tennis."
"I didn't ever have deportment lessons. Look, are you two going to stay? Don't let me down!"
Susan stood hesitating. It depended on her: the others saw her power, which they hadn't noticed in the old days. Her face was haggard, cheekbones jutting above hollows: if it was beautiful, there was also something naked in it, shocking. The unblemished skin was textured like soft parchment. What Amanda remembered was glasses, a flat chest, hand-me-down bobbled jumpers (Amanda had refused to wear hers, once the wool went like that), a reputation for good marks at the school where she had a scholarship (not the school that Amanda paid for), and a stubborn, sulking resistance to Amanda, who—used to capitulation—had been intrigued.
"There's a lot of Chinese stuff here," Chris said, disentangling the pagoda from the poncho.
"They lived in Singapore when she was little, and then Paris. That's where they got their international flavor. You'd have thought they were jet-setters, from the way they talked. But Daddy was only in insurance."
Warily, Susan dropped her mobile back in her bag, yielding as if she didn't do it often.
"All right then," she said. "I'll stay for a bit. For old times' sake."
In the decaying room, the three of them were linked in heady intimacy for a moment, though they were also strangers.
"I'll stay as well," Chris said.
But the women had taken this for granted.
They found their old den. The others had forgotten it, but Amanda remembered and led them to it—bearing bottles raided from the kitchen—though the way through the garden was unrecognizable. This garden had once been Daddy's pride: amoeba-shaped flower beds mounded with color, crazy paving paths set in close-clipped lawns. There had been a swinging lounge seat with a striped awning, and every summer's day had revolved around the necessity of taking this awning in if rain threatened. Now the neighbors in the Walk must have been despairing at the incursion of wilderness into their sanctuary: rusty dock and nettle stood waist high, bramble was advancing in the tall grass. Rubbish had been thrown in here, split bags bulging with rot, a spillage of broken things from the house, a plastic clotheshorse, a smashed china bread crock. In the heat, it all smelled potently of rank growth, baked earth, dog shit. The den was lifted up above the chaos, a raised space of hard mud on a bank among trees at the far end of the garden, opposite Vivien's bedroom window, backing onto a little copse where the locals walked their dogs.
Susan had brought a blanket from the house for them to sit on, and Amanda had chocolate in her handbag. They examined more closely the bottles they'd liberated: Johnnie Walker, Tia Maria, Cinzano, amontillado sherry. The bottles were filthy, sticky, greasy, but Amanda was adamant that the alcohol was safe. She wiped around the tops with tissues soaked in whiskey, and was the first to swig, choosing the sherry. "My favorite," she said. "Goes straight to your head. Wow!"
"Out here I feel more relaxed," Susan said. Lying back on the blanket, she looked up at the blue sky through the spreading fans of leaves in a silver birch, wafting in the merest movement of air. The urgent onward flow of her days ceased abruptly; the sensation was as if something—her soul—had floated to the front of her forehead, while she sank down, breathing differently, vastly. "That's what used to happen, in the old days. We used to get away from the house, out here."
"But not at first. At first we loved it all."
Vivien used to have tea ready for them when they came: twiglets, sandwiches with the crusts cut off, cream cakes, ice cream, jelly. If they visited her in London, she took them to the opera at Covent Garden, the Natural History Museum, the Mermaid Theatre, Chez Solange, where a waiter picked extra strawberries off a gâteau for Amanda.
Chris played it safe with the Johnnie Walker. Susan tried Cinzano, in memory of Vivien. She reported that it was hideous.
"I danced for you all in this garden," Amanda said.
Chris seemed to see her, in a leotard and some sort of scant fancy painted-yellow nylon thing, fastened to elastic on her wrists, which she waved about like wings. He registered both her absurd self-importance and self-exposure (the dancing wasn't very good) and the breath-stopping effect of her bare creamy legs and bouncing pyramids of breast.
They had all shown off. Vivien had encouraged them to do it. Mandy had been a beauty, Chris a genius—he had held forth on existentialism, on the problem with Communism, which was human nature. They tried to think what Susan had been: Susan had had personality and depth, they remembered; she had read Dickens when she was eleven. Licensed, leaving shame behind them in the real world, they had expanded into the place Vivien made for them, reinventing themselves, becoming in the free space of the Walk exceptional. They had talked together, even in front of Vivien, as they talked to none of their friends, confessing their aspirations and their real thoughts.
Invited into Vivien's bedroom, the girls had watched her change, with skillful minimal movements, into something pretty, tipping a bottle, dabbing perfume on pressure points, fixing earrings, skewering her feet into high heels. She had had a neat, miniature figure, had been quick and lithe and always on the move, talking and organizing. She had lent them novels—Nancy Mitford and Dodie Smith—and showed them photographs of Paris. Sweet as cake with them, she'd shown herself flinty toward anything she didn't approve of. She couldn't bear the hordes of tourists overtaking her old favorite places in France; she couldn't bear the greed of the trade unions, or sloppy language—split infinitives or Bristol accents. The children hardly spoke to their parents about what went on at Vivien's, fearing the chill of a different judgment than hers, a condemnation of fakery.
"I didn't need deportment classes," Amanda said. "I had natural deportment—don't you remember Vivien saying that? Natural deportment. And look what's become of me!"
"What has become of you?"
"Two shops selling ethnic jewelry: Weymouth and Bridport. What about you?"
"I'm in family law. I work on contract to social services."
Vivien had been right about Chris, though, Amanda said. She'd looked him up on his university Web site: he was a professor of Early Modern Studies, whatever those were; he'd written books. With ready irony (this was a sensitive subject), he explained that at his university "professor" was only an honorary title; it didn't mean what it did at the old universities—no promotion, no extra salary. Not even much honor, really. Also, nobody read his books.
"Did she ever mention God?" Susan said lazily, not sitting up. "After all, we were her godchildren."
"She gave me a little white Testament when I was confirmed," Amanda said. "I still have it, but I've never read it."
When they were drunk enough, they returned to the house. It seemed even chillier and dirtier inside, after their soak in the afternoon light. The kitchen hadn't been altered in decades: there was an old gas stove, an enamel sink, little gingham curtains in place of cupboard doors. Bone-china tea sets had been pulled out of the cupboards and piled on the table, with colander, grater, mincer, wooden spoons anciently dark, Breton bowls painted with names, not theirs. They felt as if they'd come upon the scene of a desecrating burglary.
"We might as well take this stuff," Amanda said, pressing her stickers defiantly onto a few items—jugs and serving dishes—and piling them apart from the rest. "You know they'll only get the clearance people in."
"I liked this house so much," Susan said. "I liked it better than my own house, though I knew I shouldn't. I didn't like modern things. I liked the thick pink carpet and the embroidered tablecloths—they were like something out of books. I imagined having flowers on the breakfast table and a maid to turn back your bed. Not that Vivien had maids. But in those days I thought that I'd want to live like that. In my head, I lived like that."
"Have a tablecloth. Here's a whole pile of them."
"Now it all looks dismal."
"Did you go and see her, when she was ill?"
None of them had. To be fair, they had not known how ill she was. Amanda and Susan had spoken to her on the phone, in the last year; Vivien, who had never allowed herself to be ill for a day—as if it were a lapse in taste—had complained in angry spurts, between deploring her weakness for doing so, about her legs and her eyes. They had never been in touch with the niece or the nephew, so had not known that anything was serious, or terminal. They had known from Vivien's voice, however, that she was changed, desperate, and they had not done anything about it. The married man—news trickled through to their parents, always months late—had also been very ill. "It's our punishment," Susan said, "to be here."
Chris tripped over a pile of saucepans, Susan caught him, and after this they made their way around the house together, Chris hanging onto Susan's arm, Susan and Amanda holding hands, unclasping to sticker anything they wanted. None of them were in the habit of touching. All of them—even Amanda, who had lovers—were rather fastidiously inhibited in their ordinary lives. Amanda was prodigal with red stickers. Chris put a yellow one on a Pembroke table that he might use to write on. Susan succumbed to a nineteen-thirties Parisian hatbox and a pair of Chinese ivory masks.
"Those masks are nice," Amanda said, jealous. "Clever you, I didn't notice them."
Smitten momentarily with cupidity, Susan wouldn't give them up; she put them in her bag, saving her pleasure in them for exploring later.
At the door to Vivien's bedroom, Amanda halted and the others crowded against her, breathing in one another's heat and freshness, aftershave and wool, shampoo: they were middle-aged, but still clean and competent, at least. Here, too, everything had been pulled out of drawers and cupboards. All their eyes were drawn to where, beside the single bed with crumpled sheets, no one had cleared away a last cigarette, crushed out, slovenly, in a jam-jar top. None of them mentioned it. It might have belonged to whoever had made the inventory, but it might also have been Vivien's.
"Do you two have children?" Amanda said. "I don't."
Susan's boy and girl were in their twenties; Chris was keen to tell them all about Thea—nine—though he didn't see her often. None of the three, it turned out, currently had a partner.
"I have boyfriends," Amanda explained. "But I live alone, out of choice."
"What's the matter with us?" Chris wondered. "None of us have been good at making relationships. Do you think it damaged us, coming here?"
Amanda was defensive. "I like my own company."
"Or perhaps we were like that in the first place, and that's why we kept coming."
"Do you remember when we spied on her?" Susan said.
"I don't remember spying," Amanda said.
"You must. Isn't it in your diary?"
"How do you know about my diary?"
"You used to bring it, and read bits out loud to us. You used to write in it while we were here, telling us you were writing about us, then slamming the book shut if we tried to read it."
Amanda made a false face of contrition. "Did I?"
"I took everything too much to heart. That was my problem."
When they were sixteen, seventeen, Vivien still made them tea, and they still ate it, but Mandy was always dieting and Chris and Susan were ravenous, triangles of sandwich making only one mouthful in the new scale of their lives. Torn out of the child bodies that had fitted them purely and exactly, they looked with resentful eyes at Everdene Walk, because they couldn't love it again with the same glee. When Vivien enthused over their prospects—university for Chris, modelling for Mandy, for Susan some deep personal adventure—they longed to believe her, but didn't trust that she really knew anything. So they were rude or silent, and knew they disappointed her.
Also, they looked at one another differently. They had never met outside the Walk: now they were afraid that they might cross paths in the street or at a disco, and know too much about one another, blowing open the public persona that each so scrupulously controlled. And yet, when Vivien left them alone together, they couldn't resist the luxury of freedom, within their exceptional little tribe. Even Susan, in one of her gouts of inhibited awkward eloquence, confessed that there was "someone" she liked. Mandy told the others what she'd done with boys at parties. She worked to perturb Chris, yet didn't notice when she achieved this. He was delicious at that age, unknown to himself: skinny and jumpy, shadowed lashes dipping on his freckled cheeks, mouth twisted sardonically, a light of wit and nerves playing in his expression. Thirty-five years later, he didn't look so very different, only his qualities, by persisting, had worn out their promise. He was more boyish in his fifties than he had been as a boy.
One summer night, they told Vivien that they would walk home together; they didn't need a lift. Daddy was old—he hated getting the car out in the evening—and they reassured Vivien that their parents wouldn't worry. Their way was across the Downs, a miles-wide stretch of open grass in the middle of the city, dividing the suburbs from the center. There was hardly anyone else about. The heady spaces of warm night above and around them made them behave as if they were drunk, swaying and falling into one another, laughing and inventing stories. In the dark, they were unafraid. Mandy seized the others' hands; self-conscious but grateful, they allowed her to tug them close, and swing their arms. It even seemed possible for a moment, as they walked under the shelter of a copse of tall beeches, where the grass wasn't cut, that they might do something extraordinary, lie down all three of them in the grass and roll together, kiss together, press together, achieve some kind of interpenetration that all of them were yearning for, though none of them had come anywhere near it (not even Mandy).
Then one of them suggested that they go back and watch Vivien's house. It might have been Susan, because she knew how to get into the den from the public path, without going through the Walk; perhaps they all thought that they would be better concealed in the den, for whatever was going to happen next, than under the beeches out in the open. It took a while to get back, and longer to discover which of the dark gardens belonged to No. 33; when, eventually, they'd struggled over the fence and settled into the little space, they were crowded intimately close together, breathing hard, and their mood changed from the floating blissful playfulness of the Downs to something more intent. The two girls were on either side of Chris, tight against him. They didn't really think they would see anything. They imagined that, after they left, the house was shut up for the night.
A light went on in Vivien's bedroom. The room had French windows and a little balcony, which was not wide enough to sit on but gave the room a Continental chic. From the den, they could see right into it. Opening the windows, Vivien leaned her arms on the wrought-iron balustrade, looking out into the night like a heroine in a film. She was wearing a turquoise nightdress under a filmy lacy matching knee-length peignoir: the girls knew that she called it this. With the light behind her, she didn't look bad. Mandy put two fingers in her mouth and wolf-whistled. They expected Vivien to be shocked, to shut the windows hastily. But she only smiled, as if something were amusing, and straightened her back. Then they understood that her moments at the window had been a performance, projected at an imaginary watcher: the whistle had only made him unexpectedly real.
Turning inside, Vivien left the windows open, then came back to set up a folding chair where she had been standing. After a few more minutes she returned again, with a drink, cigarettes and lighter, and a book. She sat, crossed her legs, lit a cigarette, puffed at it in the shallow way she had, and sipped her drink; a slipper with pompoms dangled from her bare foot, which she moved in slow arcs, dipping and pointing the toes, whose nails, they knew, were painted vermillion. Her peignoir fell open at the thigh, nothing unseemly; and, anyway, she had nice legs, for her age. Mandy whistled again, softly; Vivien settled herself more sensuously in her chair, swung her slipper. They dreaded her giving herself away any further, and yet willed her to do so. Chris couldn't wolf-whistle, but he could do fluting whistles like bird calls. While Vivien sat reading for as long as it took her to finish her drink, his bird calls slipped intermittently—swooning, brooding messages—out of the undergrowth, through the warm night. She put down her book, leaned her head back, closed her eyes, sighed, ran her hands luxuriantly down her nightdress. The children couldn't move or speak, in case she heard them; they swallowed with dry throats. They didn't dare look at one another, for fear of spurting out with laughter.
Then, at last, she stood up and took the chair inside, shutting the window, and the spell that had bound them was broken. Susan got up stiffly, groaning with pins and needles, brushing earth and twigs from her bare knees, whispering that she had to go; she was afraid of what her parents would think if she wasn't back soon. She assured them that she would be fine, making her way across the Downs on her own (and, fortunately, she was). Chris and Mandy were left alone together.
In the present, too, Susan was the first to go. Chris walked out with her to her taxi when it came. They kissed clumsily—he went for two cheeks when she meant to do only one.
"We ought to meet like this again," he said.
"That would be nice."
Susan was insincere, one hand already on the door of her liberating taxi. Her counter-reaction after opening up came faster and more violently, as she aged: she longed to be alone with herself.
"Mandy's right," Chris pursued. "The past's important."
A chill made Susan pull her cardigan tighter; Chris seemed to feel it, too, when his eager look tipped down too far into her strained eyes. Embarrassed, indifferent to him, she burrowed away inside the taxi; its driver, elbow out of the wound-down window, summing Chris up dismissively, put the car in gear. She asked for the station.
Returning inside, Chris wondered aloud to Amanda, who crouched twiddling the knobs of a television with a bulbous green screen, what Susan had thought of him, in the old days: it seemed to matter suddenly.
"Wasn't she mad keen on you at one time? In my memory, she as good as told you so. You probably weren't listening. Weren't interested, anyway."
"You're joking."
"It was serious. In as far as they're ever serious, those kiddie crushes."
Chris took this new knowledge in, past the usual apparatus of his ideas and ironies, crowded as a junk yard.
"She did seem haunted. Disappointed. You don't think there'd be any point in me . . . ?"
"Shouldn't think so. That was a million years ago. It wouldn't be you, haunting her now."
He accepted this, resigned.
But the vibration of passion had been introduced into the darkened room: they both felt it, taken by surprise. They talked about other things: Amanda queried whether books on the shelves, first editions by forgotten novelists, might be worth something; Chris said he doubted it. Meanwhile, he was uncovering more detail in the memory of what had happened between him and Mandy in the den. Not the dream-thing they had all three wanted under the beeches but a twosome more greedily down to earth, his hand pushed under her bra, hers into his unzipped jeans, actually a first for him. Though he hadn't cared for Mandy much, his gratitude had been overwhelming; it had dissolved him. ("Do you like me? Do you like me?" she had kept asking.)
He woke up, for once, to the blossoming of the present moment.
He couldn't make love to Amanda now, in this decomposing house. Could he? They were too old to do it in the garden. Perhaps it didn't matter that she wasn't his type. Anyway, what type was he?
"Aren't you glad I arranged for us to meet?" Amanda said, still wanting praise, making her old face of pouting, flirting dissatisfaction.
Susan in her taxi, dusty hatbox on the seat beside her, fingered the ivory masks in her handbag, out of sight: a man and a woman with broad, composed, stylized faces, lowered eyes. She didn't remember them from her childhood. They were meant not for wearing but to hang on a wall, beautiful, carved into the curve of the tusk. She was sure that they weren't trash made for tourists. Her smoothing thumb took pleasure in the long cheeks, bulging eyelids, jutting mouths, the ridges of the brows and hair, the woman's earrings and her comb. ♦


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The Crimson women will race for a ticket to nationals this weekend (photo courtesy Athletic Communications).
CAMBRIDGE, Mass. – The Harvard women's sailing team will sail for a ticket to the nationals this weekend at the 43rd Reed Trophy, New England Championship. The No. 14 Crimson coeds will send its freshmen class to the 73rd Priddy Trophy, New England Freshmen Championship and compete at the 84th Boston Dinghy Club Challenge, 29th Admirals' Cup and 11th George Morris Trophy.
Fans can follow live stats from the races, here.
Follow Harvard Athletics on Facebook, Twitter and Instagram to stay connected with all the breaking news from around Cambridge and to get inside access to your favorite Crimson programs.
About the 43rd Reed Trophy
New England's top women teams will converge on the Thames River this weekend, racing in Coast Guard's fleet of FJs and 420s. The event is one of the most crucial of the season as the top-two teams will earn themselves nonstop tickets to the ICSA Women's National Championships, which will be held at Navy May 27-30. The teams that finish third through seventh will move on to compete in a semifinal championship where they will have to finish in the top nine to move on to nationals.
The Crimson will attempt to snap a three year draught of qualifying this weekend, as the last Harvard team to earn an automatic berth to nationals was the 2010 squad which placed second in the qualifier. Last season, the Crimson claimed 12th in the New England Championships.
Related Link: Sailing Takes Sixth at George Morris Intersectional, 12th at New England Women's Championship
About the 73rd Priddy Trophy
Harvard's Class of 2017 will travel to Rhode Island to race at the 73rd Priddy Trophy for the New England Freshmen Championship this weekend. The one-division regatta will be sailed in 420s starting at 9:30 a.m. each day.
This fall the Crimson's rookies turned in a third place performance at the Nickerson Trophy, the ICSA's freshmen championships.
Related Link: Sailing Takes Third at NE Freshmen Championships, Fall Short at ACC Qualifiers
About the 84th Boston Dinghy Club Challenge
The Boston Dinghy Cup, the oldest trophy in collegiate sailing, is raced for at the birthplace of modern collegiate sailing, the Charles River. Three divisions will rotate between MIT's and Harvard's fleets of Fireflies and FJs throughout the weekend. Last season, Harvard took seventh.
Related Link: Sailing Takes Seventh at Boston Dinghy Club Challenge and Owen/Moscbacher/Knapp Trophy
About the 29th Admirals' Cup
The 29th Admirals' Cup, hosted by U.S. Merchant Marine Academy, will see 20 teams, including eight ranked in the top-20, clash on Kings Point. The three divisions in the intersectional event will compete in FJs. Harvard last sailed in the 27th edition of the Admirals' Cup in 2011 where it finished seventh.
About the 11th George Morris Trophy
A dozen teams will compete at Boston University's George Morris Trophy on the Charles River. Teams will take the water at 10:15 a.m. each day in FJs. A year ago, Harvard finished sixth at the intersectional.
Waters in Connecticut and Rhode Island will see northwest breezes of 5 to 10 knots increasing to 10 to 15 knots in the afternoon on Saturday. Northeast winds of 5 to 10 knots will open sailing on Sunday before turning into southeast gulls in afternoon. In Boston, sailors will face northeast squalls of 5 to 10 knots increasing to 10 to 15 knots in the afternoon. The second day of racing will feature northeast gusts of 5 to 10 knots.
For up-to-date forecasts, click here.
Coming Up
Harvard will sail at the 69th Coast Guard Alumni Bowl where the winner will be crowned NEISA Fleet Race Champion. Yale will host the championship regatta on the Thames River.
Last Time on the Water
Harvard's coed sailing team turned in three top-five performances at four regattas April 12-13. The Crimson finished third at the Salvin Hill Invitational and the Thompson Trophy and placed fifth at the 70th Greater Boston Oberg Trophy. Harvard also competed at the Own, Mosbacher and Knapp Trophies, where it finished eighth.
Related Link: No. 14 Sailing Coeds Turn in Three Top-Five Performances at Four Weekend Regattas
Rank and File
The Crimson coeds currently sit 14th in the Sailing World's college rankings, presented by Gill Sailors of the Sea while the women's squad have received votes for the first time this spring in the April 9 poll. The coeds were initially ranked 19th in the national preseason poll.
Harvard is one-of-nine NEISA schools to make the coed national list as Yale (2), Roger Williams (5), Boston College (7), Tufts (9), and Dartmouth (10) sit in the top 10, while MIT (13), and Connecticut College (16) round out the conference's coed ranked schools.
Week of
Related Link: Sailing World's College Rankings
Charles Chargin'
The Crimson has competed on the Charles River 15 times throughout the 2013-14 campaign and finished in the top-10 in every outing except two. Harvard's two victories came on the local water.
Olympic Model Athlete
The International Sailing Federation Association named Harvard freshman Juan Carlos Perdomo as one-of-28 experienced sailors to serve as an Athlete Role Model for the 2nd Summer Youth Olympic Games in Nanjing, China August 16-28. The Miami, Fla., native looks to transfer his knowledge and experience to the next wave of youth champions and Olympic heroes as a key role in supporting, mentoring and offering advice to the 100 young sailors racing across four events on Jinniu Lake.
Related Link: Perdomo Named Youth Olympic Games Sailing Athlete Role Model
Sailor of the Week
For his second-place finish at the ICSA Singlehanded Championships, Juan Carlos Perdomo was named the New England Intercollegiate Sailing Association Coed Sailor of the Week Nov. 12. The weekly accolade was the first of the freshman's career and first weekly award presented to a Crimson sailor this season.
Related Link: Perdomo Named NEISA Sailor of the Week
Leading the Fleet
Michael O'Connor is entering his 17th season at the helm of the Harvard sailing teams. With O'Connor at the helm, Harvard won the national team race championships in 2002 and 2003, as well as the 2003 national coed championship and the women's national title in 2005.
Captains of the Ships
Sophomores Sydney Karnovsky and Andrew Mollerus have been elected captain for the 2014 campaign. Karnovsky will lead the women's squad while Mollerus takes on the leadership responsibilities of the coeds.


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Attention trendsetters, tastemakers and tech influencers! This day and age, we are getting more tech savvy and the bridge between technology and fashion is growing smaller. Fashion companies are coming out with pretty things we can adorn and decorate our everyday gadgets and electronics with. HP is hosting a design competition in collaboration with Project Runway to design an HP Ultrabook bag.
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Monday, July 27, 2009
A Service to the Toronto Sports Media: What Scott Rolen Would Have Said
But the thing is, we hate when the members of the media turn a declined interview into some sort of indication that there is something amiss with the player, and that he is clearly some sort of malingerer for not (pardon the pun) playing ball with them.
Apparently, Scott Rolen, the Greatest Blue Jay of All Time, rebuffed an advance from one media member or another for an interview this weekend. In all likelihood, he knew the question that was coming and didn't feel like answering it, so he declined.
The question that without a doubt was going to be asked of Rolen was: "With the trade deadline approaching and rumours that the Jays may look to deal players on this roster - including you - is that a distraction for you? How do you deal with those rumours?"
Since Rolen declined to answer, I know that the entirety of the Toronto Sports Media Cabal are being driven crazy by the lack of certainty caused by this vacuum. Remember, folks, that it has been at least a couple of weeks since any of them have had their latest Brian Burke fix, and the current Roy Halladay Saga has served only as a weak and temporary methadone. Once Burkie comes back from vacation and starts talking shit about other GMs or lets loose with a particularly odorous fart that vaguely sounds like "Kaberle", then most of this attention will be diverted, and the teeming masses will be satiated.
So as a service to those poor folks, and so that Steve Simmons doesn't lose any more hair over this, we will provide you with precisely the answer that Scott Rolen would have given on camera and to any mics that were within the area.
"You know, that's not really something you can think about. You've just gotta go out there and focus on the game. That's all you can do. If something happens, it happens. But I've really just got to focus on the task at hand, and go out there and do everything I can to help us win games."
We know this is more or less what would have been said because we've heard this answer to this question at least 100,000 times. Moreover, we know that athletes these days rarely if ever let reporters into their heads or their personal thoughts. Because athletes know that if they do happen to say something remotely interesting, the press will beat them with it like a club for the rest of their stay with the team, or the rest of their career, even if it is pretty tepid. (How many times has Roy Halladay's "Groundhog Day" comment been dredged up in the past 12 months? Anyone care to do a Nexis search on that?)
We hope this puts the GTA sports reporters out of their misery for a day or two. And no need to thank us. You're welcome.
10 comments:
- DoubleA said...
Decline interviews?!?!?!? - no wonder they boo him in Philly. He's got a SERIOUS attitude problem
- July 27, 2009 at 11:19 AM
- stonedog said...
I love how Steve Simmons' complete assessment of Scott Rolen's character can change with one simple interview snub. Not even a snub, really, just a polite decline. Says a lot more about Steve Simmons than Scott Rolen. Doesn't even occur to Simmons what reasons Rolen might have for declining the interview. Yeah, why try to put yourself in the other guy's shoes, even for a moment? Let someone from the 'hated' blogosphere perform that heroic gesture of humanity instead.
- July 27, 2009 at 11:22 AM
- JDot said...
I'm saddened to hear people are actually reading Simmons, but then to see what the fuss was about I actually read Simmons' piece. I want those few minutes of my life back. He had the incredible foresight to note that Pujols will get walked fewer times now that Holliday is hitting behind him. That's a lot like saying the Jays will win fewer games without Roy. He's on the cutting edge of sports reporting.
- July 27, 2009 at 11:40 AM
- Ian H. said...
Scott Rolen answers reporters questions with his bat. His home run yesterday gave them all the answers they needed.
- July 27, 2009 at 12:24 PM
- eyebleaf said...
I never, ever read Simmons. I was at Pizza Pizza late last night, chowing down, and the only paper in that fine dining establishment was The Sun.
So I indulged in some Simmons action.
I was blown away.
Like I wrote over on my blog, the fact that Simmons now dislikes Rolen, makes me like Rolen that much more.
What bothered me most was that quip about no-hitters; that the White Sox can now boast 16 more than the Blue Jays. WHAT THE FUCK?!?!?
- July 27, 2009 at 1:24 PM
- MK Piatkowski said...
Love this polite f-u to the the media cabal. I'm really tired of how they take things that are said and blow them completely out of proportion and then whine when the players decline to play along.
Nicely played, Tao.
- July 27, 2009 at 1:58 PM
Maybe if JP didn't mess up so many times with the media, the players would be more willing to speak up
See, everything can be blamed on JP
- July 27, 2009 at 2:32 PM
- Tao of Stieb said...
Occasionally, if I'm bored and I haven't found a reason to tee off on him lately, I'll go read Simmons.
What's great about him is that he provides endless amounts of ammo for us when we decide to turn ourselves in his direction.
We expect that he's the sort of douche who thinks that because tons of hate mail that he's "striking a chord" or "hitting a nerve". When really, he's just being a tubby cheap shot artist with marginal control of his salivary functions when he speaks.
- July 27, 2009 at 3:16 PM
- Andrew Gray said...
This is a fucking great post.
- July 27, 2009 at 3:35 PM
- Pension Plan Puppets said...
We expect that he's the sort of douche who thinks that because tons of hate mail that he's "striking a chord" or "hitting a nerve". When really, he's just being a tubby cheap shot artist with marginal control of his salivary functions when he speaks.
You just described almost every major writer in Toronto
- July 28, 2009 at 4:46 PM


text: One of the impressive benefits of the residential solar panel system is that it significantly lowers the energy bills. Your savings will start building up from the first day of installation. Energy rates from utility companies are in an upward trend in the recent years. However, regarding solar panels, the source of energy is from the sun, so you don`t have to be paying any bill and no fear of energy rate increments. This might sound incredible, but a solar power system can reduce your monthly electric bill by 70%. For instance, if your monthly bill is $200, it implies that you could save up to $2,400 in one year. Thus, you will be able to save more for yourself and your family. In case you did not know, net metering allows you to save much on solar panels. If you cannot exhaust your stored solar energy, the net metering allows you to release the excess energy captured by your solar panels into the local energy grid. The excess energy will be available for use by other homes and businesses. Hence, you will receive retail rate payments from the electric companies.


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The issue:
Frightening episodes of gun violence have been splayed across front pages with alarming frequency this campaign season: the deadly Milwaukee spa shootings, the movie theater killings in Colorado, the Sikh temple shootings in Wisconsin, the gun battle outside the Empire State Building, and more. Guns are used in two-thirds of homicides, according to the FBI. But the murder rate is less than half what it was two decades ago.
Where they stand:
Neither President Barack Obama nor Republican Mitt Romney has had much to say about guns during the campaign, except when prodded by high-profile events such as the Colorado shootings. Obama hasn't pushed gun control measures as president, and Romney says he doesn't think the nation needs new gun laws. Both style themselves as defenders of the Second Amendment right to bear arms.
Obama has signed laws letting people carry concealed weapons in national parks and in checked bags on Amtrak trains. He's voiced support for a renewed ban on assault-type weapons but hasn't tried to get that done. He blames Congress for opposing such measures.
Romney suggested after the Colorado shootings that he favors tougher enforcement of existing gun laws. He said he doubts whether new laws would help. The key, he said, is to identify deranged or distressed people and then "keep them from carrying out terrible acts." It's a big shift in tone from his days as Massachusetts governor, when he vowed to protect the state's "tough gun laws" and signed a ban on assault weapons.
Why it matters:
Don't expect gun control to be high on the presidential agenda no matter who wins in November. Although Obama is more open to gun ownership restrictions than Romney, neither seems inclined to push it. That's not to say it makes no difference who gets elected when it comes to gun control. Supreme Court appointments could make a big difference.
But gun control has faded as a political issue. Crime just isn't the public concern it was years ago. And it's getting harder to make the argument that stricter gun laws are needed when violent crime has fallen by 65 percent since 1993.
Although high-profile shootings inevitably stir up talk about tighter gun controls, over time the public has shifted in favor of the right to own guns and away from increased limitations on gun ownership.
In 1990, 78 percent of Americans said laws covering the sale of firearms should be stricter, and 19 percent said they should remain the same or be loosened, according to a Gallup poll. By the fall of 2004, support for tougher laws had dropped to 54 percent. Last year, 43 percent said they should be stricter, and 55 percent said they should stay the same or be made more lenient.
Still, odds are good that the next president will have a chance to fill at least one Supreme Court seat, and the current court is narrowly divided on gun-control questions. In a 5-4 vote two years ago, for example, the court held that Americans have the right to own a gun for self-defense anywhere they live, expanding the conservative court's embrace of gun rights. The court left unresolved questions about what kinds of gun-control laws fit comfortably with the Second Amendment.
An Obama appointee could be expected to be friendlier to gun controls than would a Romney nominee.
Obama could decide to push for an assault weapons ban in a second term, when he wouldn't have to worry about re-election repercussions. But it still would be unlikely to advance through a House that is expected to remain firmly in Republican hands.


text:
AWhiteley necesitaba un nuevo diseño de logotipo y lanzó un concurso de diseño en 99designs.
Un ganador ha sido elegido entre 230 diseños de 40 diseñadores freelance.
Captivate Studio
Captivate Studio is a new creative digital design company offering a range of creative design, development and marketing services for web and print. The new brand logo needs to be clean, professional and communicate the vision of the company which is to produce creative and captivating visual media and marketing for our clients.
Services we provide include web design, web development, graphic design, online marketing, corporate photography, videography and multimedia presentations.
We started out as a more technical web design and web development company which is now looking to evolve into a new digital creative agency offering the services above.
Our target audience are business owners and marketing managers who can range in age and sex
We are open to ideas which are clean, professional but show a creative edge in the brand logo. The logo also needs to last the test of time without looking aged. We are open to colour choices and will provide feedback on any preferences which we like during the contest.
The files we will require are:
Print file format - .ai (CMYK)
Web file format - .jpg and layered .psd (RGB)
If you require any further details, please ask.
Descubre cómo funciona un concurso de diseño u obtén más información sobre nuestros servicios de diseño de logo.


text:
This project started by illustrating collective nouns for animals, but is growing larger all the time. This love of language and color and design has encouraged me to continue and expand the business, and my designs are available as apparel and art prints as well as greeting cards.
I am so thrilled to announce that Sasquatch Books has published the alphabet book and it is now available! You'll find the images from each of the 26 pages shown here by clicking the letter below.
Thanks so much for visiting me at Smack of Jellyfish!
Free coloring book!


text:
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Welcome to MidSouth Metal Supply. First of all we appreciate the opportunity to assist you in any of your metal needs. We are a supplier of a complete range of products to fulfill any and every metal, roofing, siding, metal building component, insulation, and fastener need. Whether residential, commercial, or architectural we got you covered. We can deliver most anywhere and our service will not be beat! We are constantly adding information to our site so if you don't see what you have a need for or want, please contact us and we can point you in the right direction. Thanks again!


text:
most of our efforts here at Perfect Game are focused on amateur
baseball, we do continually keep tabs on what the players that we
have crossed paths with are accomplishing at the professional level.
efforts include our Major League Player of the Day feature as well as
looking at the number of alumni that participated in the 2011 Future's Game. Each and every year the number of players that have
participated in a Perfect Game showcase and/or tournament event
continues to grow, and we are proud to be affiliated with so many
talented baseball players.
the past several years I have compiled a minor league team of notable
performers, made up of players that have previously attended one of
our events. Recent collections of such players have included young
stars such as Jeremy Hellickson, Jason Heyward, Eric Hosmer, Madison
Bumgarner and Buster Posey. Mike Trout makes the team for the second
year in a row, and represents another wave of promising talent.
to past years, I am going to stack up my lineup like a batting
order, with nine hitters followed by three starting pitchers and a
short relief prospect.
– Mike Trout (Angels)
most dynamic player in the minor leagues last year received a call-up
from the Angels after hitting .326/.414/.544 with 18 doubles, 13
triples and 11 home runs in 91 games at the AA level. He also showcased
his exciting blend of power and speed by stealing 33 bases. Only
Bryce Harper has the same kind of can't-miss prospect stardom written
all over him like Trout does, and while he didn't fare as well at the
big-league level, it's only a matter of time before he's a household
– Gary Brown (Giants)
who starred at Cal State Fullerton prior to being the Giants'
first-round pick in 2010, spent the entire year with San Jose in the
California League. He posted numbers similar to Trout's, with a
.336/.407/.519 slash line in a league that favors offense. Brown
showed there is more to his game than his electrifying speed,
hitting 34 doubles, 13 triples and 14 home runs to go along with his 53
swipes. After seeing other former first-round picks of the Giants
such as Tim Lincecum, Buster Posey and Madison Bumgarner fast-tracked
to the big-leagues, it was a little surprising that Brown spent the
entire year at high-A. Next year may prove differently.
– Brett Lawrie (Blue Jays)
base posed the most difficult decision among the individual positions
outside of the three starting outfielders, as Nolan Arenado, Bobby Borchering, Nick Castellanos, James Darnell and Taylor Green all put
up numbers worthy of this selection. Lawrie got the nod given his
incredible numbers (.347/.414/.647, 24 doubles, 6 triples, 18 home
runs) at the upper levels at the age of 21, and he has continued to
produce at a high level at the big-league level for the Blue Jays.
Acquired from the Brewers for starting pitcher Shawn Marcum, Lawrie
looks poised to be a star for a long time.
– Paul Goldschmidt (Diamondbacks)
tough call, although among a smaller pool. Goldschmidt may have
played a level below both Anthony Rizzo and David Cooper, but posted
big offensive numbers (.306/.435/.626, 30 home runs, 82 RBI) in the
Southern League, a league known for suppressing power. Rizzo did
make the team as the DH as listed below, while Cooper showed
exceptional plate discipline (67 walks vs. 43 strikeouts) while
hitting 51 doubles. Goldschmidt has also made the smoothest
transition to playing in the big-leagues as a member of the NL West
leading Arizona Diamondbacks.
– Tim Wheeler (Rockies)
slugger Tim Wheeler has an exciting blend of power and speed, hitting
.287/.365/.525 at the AA level with 33 home runs and 21 stolen bases.
Colorado's first-round pick in 2009, Wheeler will be a phone call
away next season with a profile similar to that of all-time Rockies
great Larry Walker.
three starting outfielders wasn't easy given the number of worthy
candidates. Michael Choice, Bryce Harper, Jake Marisnick, Kent Matthes, A.J. Pollock, Eddie Rosario and Mason Williams were among
those considered that just missed.
– Ryan Lavarnway (Red Sox)
has never been a problem for Lavarnway, who hit .384 with 33 home
runs in three years at Yale. While his upside as a prospect has
been questioned, he has continued to hit as a pro, posting a
.290/.376/.563 slash line with 32 home runs and 93 RBI between the AA
and AAA levels prior to him being called up to join the Red Sox. He
edged out other promising catchers including Tommy Joseph, who hit 22
home runs and 95 RBI at the high-A level for the Giants, and Devin Mesoraco, who was rewarded for his comeback season by receiving a
call-up with the Reds.
– Anthony Rizzo (Padres)
the designated hitter I simply chose who I felt was the best hitter
among those that just missed at their usual position. Rizzo got the
nod over outfielders Michael Choice, Bryce Harper, Kent Matthes and
Eddie Rosario for hitting .331/.404/.652 with 26 home runs and 101
RBI at AAA prior to being called up by the Padres. He may make the
trade of Adrian Gonzalez pretty easy to swallow in a few years once
he has adapted himself to life in the big-leagues.
– Jeff Kobernus (Nationals)
a second baseman at the minor league level isn't always an easy task,
as many eventual players at the position play shortstop in the
minors. Kobernus' numbers aren't as eye-popping as others on this
list, as he hit .282 with 22 doubles, but really stood out with
the 52 bases he stole during the 2011 minor league season. He is
considered a good athlete and a steady infielder that has some
– Billy Hamilton (Reds)
I really like the way I have stacked my lineup with speed at both the top
and bottom of this lineup, as Trout, Brown, Kobernus and Hamilton
combined for 241 stolen bases this past year. Hamilton's need for
improved plate discipline (133 strikeouts) has him at the bottom
instead of the top, but his 103 stolen bases in 123 attempts on the
year allowed him to get the nod ahead of a pair of former PG
All-Americans in Ryan Jackson and Derek Dietrich.
– Tyler Skaggs (Diamondbacks)
they continue to enjoy success at the big-league level, it didn't
take long for the Diamondbacks to quickly re-stock the shelves in
their minor league system, with Skaggs standing as one of the most
promising members of their youth movement. The tall, projectable
left-hander went 9-6 with a 2.96 ERA across two levels this summer,
posting 198 strikeouts in 158 innings. He may get another tune-up at
the AA level to open the 2012 season, but it won't be long until he's
pitching in the big-leagues for a team that wasn't expected to
contend this year.
– Brad Peacock (Nationals)
went 15-3 with a 2.39 ERA between the AA and AAA levels prior to
receiving a September call-up with the Nationals. He proved to be
particularly tough to hit, allowing only 98 hits in 146 innings, and
also struck out 177 batters. Like Skaggs, he may return to the
minors to open the 2012 season, but it shouldn't be long until he's a
regular in the Major Leagues pitching as part of a potentially
dynamic staff that includes Stephen Strasburg and Jordan Zimmerman.
– Drew Hutchison (Blue Jays)
a 14-5 record, Hutchison posted the most wins among the starters that
made this team. He also posted a 2.53 ERA collectively over three levels, opening the
year at the low-A level in the Midwest League and finishing the
season in the Eastern League at the AA level. He exhibited great
command with each of the three teams he played for, with a 171-to-35 strikeout-to-walk
ratio over 149 innings. The lanky right-hander likely will open 2012
back at AA, but could make a similar, rapid ascent next year.
would be easy to round out a full pitching staff for this team, as
Chad Bettis, Graham Godfrey, Trevor May, Shelby Miller, Julio Rodriguez, Keyvius Sampson and Eric Surkamp all received
– Shawn Tolleson (Dodgers)
was a tough decision between Tolleson and Addison Reed. Tolleson got
the nod simply for posting better numbers, although Reed soared
across four levels in the minors prior to making his big-league debut
with the White Sox earlier this month. Tolleson's numbers are
reminiscent of closers of old, going 7-2 with 25 saves and a 1.17
ERA, striking out 105 and walking only 18 in 69 innings of work
across two levels. He has always succeeded more due to the heavy
movement on his fastball than the pitch's velocity, as not only is he difficult to hit, he's especially difficult to hit hard.


text:
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text:
Canada 29 Nov 2012
For some time now, the CPA Canada website has described ACCA as 'aggressively advancing a global expansion strategy that targets Canada' and stated that ACCA is 'legally challenging the CA profession's legislated rights to the exclusive use of the name 'Chartered Accountant' in Canada.'
This is not true. In fact, ACCA has not objected, and does not object, to the use of the name 'Chartered Accountant' or the designation 'CA' by members of the CA Institutes in Canada.
Given the continued assertion of aggressive conduct by ACCA, we think it is important to provide the following background facts relating to ACCA's legal proceedings with CICA and four provincial CA bodies.
- Despite the fact that ACCA has been contributing to business life in Canada through its members and as an organisation over many decades, the Institute of Chartered Accountants of Ontario (ICAO) has over the last few years commenced two legal proceedings against ACCA and its members.
- In 2006, ICAO initiated proceedings against an ACCA member who was then President of ACCA Canada, for using his designation, FCCA (among others), on an invitation to an ACCA graduation ceremony and in a report to ACCA members. Our member was acquitted of all charges in 2009.
- In 2007, ICAO opposed a trademark application by ACCA, relying on trademarks and official marks owned by the Ontario Institute, three other provincial CA bodies, and the Canadian Institute of Chartered Accountants (CICA). ACCA's trademark application was consistent with ACCA's global initiative to protect its intellectual property and brand – in keeping with most international organisations.
- As a result of these legal proceedings commenced by ICAO, ACCA has applied to the Federal Court of Canada for a declaration confirming the right of ACCA to use the ACCA name and mark, and ACCA members to use their ACCA and FCCA designations, as permitted by law.
- In response, four provincial CA bodies have brought counter-claims, seeking injunctions which would prevent ACCA from using the ACCA name and mark, and which would prevent ACCA members from using their designations in Canada.
- ACCA believes that such orders, if issued by the Court, would effectively prevent ACCA members from providing professional accounting services in Canada and harm the reputation of our members, who have been trained to international standards in accounting and wider areas of strategic and financial management, and who work in many sectors in 170 countries including Canada.
- The requested orders would also effectively prevent ACCA and ACCA Canada from operating in Canada since ACCA is known worldwide under the ACCA name and mark. Indeed, we have made an allegation in the Federal Court proceedings that the seeking of these orders by these four provincial CA bodies infringes Canada's Competition Act.
- The provincial CA bodies unsuccessfully tried twice to have ACCA's Competition Act allegations struck from ACCA's defence to each counter-claim. However, the Court rejected these attempts and so the CA bodies will have to answer these allegations in the trademark proceedings, which are ongoing.
Canada 29 Nov 2012
The position adopted by these Canadian CA bodies is inconsistent with that adopted in most jurisdictions around the world, where ACCA and its members co-exist with other professional accountancy bodies and their members. ACCA has remained open to dialogue with these CA bodies throughout the process and remains open to dialogue on how the bodies can work together in the interests of the Canadian economy.
ACCA has continually stressed that it supports regulations to protect the public interest in Canada, especially in the area of audit and related services. As a body with full legal recognition in the UK and Ireland in relation to audit training and regulation, and across the European Union, ACCA believes strongly in effective regulation of such areas.
However, the case in Canada is not about who is entitled to practise public accounting.
Far from pursuing an aggressive strategy, ACCA is simply asking the Federal Court to confirm ACCA's right to use its name and mark, and its members' rights to use their designations, as permitted by law.
ACCA calls on the CA and successor bodies in Canada to come to an agreement which maintains a level playing field for ACCA members who live and work in Canada, many of whom have migrated to Canada, and who are playing valuable roles in Canada's economy.


text:
While we still don't have an official Fitbit app for Windows Phone, developers have made quite a few unofficial ones for the popular fitness tracker with varying degrees of success. Now Shane Chism has made his own because frankly, he wanted a fully optimized one for Windows Phone 8, including HD graphics.
Fitbit Tracker is just that app and it's now available as a public beta. That means you can download it now and give Shane feedback on things you would want to see implemented for the final release.
Before you ask, no, the app cannot sync directly to your Fitbit device as the company has not released the APIs for that syncing (and Bluetooth 4.0 is thought to be needed as well). Having said that, in a thread over at Reddit he notes that he is "…currently researching ways of doing Bluetooth sync so you can read the status of your Fitbit on your phone. However, until Fitbit provides the needed APIs, we'll be unable to save the data to your profile."
Other than that, the app is extremely fast and fluid, especially for swiping to the different screens. By holding down on individual categories e.g. Steps, Floors, Calories, etc., you can pin those as individual Live Tiles to your screen, all with different colors. It's a pretty great usage of Windows Phone and we approve.
Users can also log activity (not food quite yet, though that's on his to-do list), change days and do pretty much what the Fitbit API allows one to do but with an excellent, fluid design and HD graphics for us Windows Phone 8 fans.
If you use Fitbit (and the Flex band just went on sale this week), then definitely give a go. Don't forget to leave Shane some feedback here in comments and that Reddit thread if you have app suggestions—it's only through your participation can Shane make a better app!
Pick up Fitbit Tracker for Windows Phone 8 (Public Beta) for free here in the Store.
For more info on Fitbit, follow our Fitness Month discussion on the device (including comparing it to the Nike Fuelband) and their Aria scale.
Via: Reddit


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Limesat ultra boot loop
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Dickens' Secret Lover
Dickens' Secret Lover Previous Broadcasts
KQED 9: Tue, Jan 14, 2014 -- 2:10 AM
When 19th century British novelist Charles Dickens was 45 years old and married with 9 children, he met Nelly Ternan, an 18 year old actress with whom he fell hopelessly in love. Thus began an ongoing clandestine relationship that he kept secret for the rest of his life. This program reveals how this very public figure kept his private life secret via Byzantine financial arrangements, meticulously planned railway journeys, networks of safe-houses and the burning of personal papers and private letters. Ultimately, the strain of his double life resulted in a premature death for the highly gifted yet deeply troubled artist.