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Aye, but she?
Your other sister and my other soul
Grave Silence, lovelier
Than the three loveliest maidens, what of her?
Clio, not you,
Not you, Calliope,
Nor all your wanton line,
Not Beauty's perfect self shall comfort me
For Silence once departed,
For her the cool-tongued, her the tranquil-hearted,
Whom evermore I follow wistfully,
Wandering Heaven and Earth and Hell and the four seasons through;
Thalia, not you,
Not you, Melpomene,
Not your incomparable feet, O thin Terpsichore, I seek in this great hall,
But one more pale, more pensive, most beloved of you all.
I seek her from afar,
I come from temples where her altars are,
From groves that bear her name,
Noisy with stricken victims now and sacrificial flame,
And cymbals struck on high and strident faces
Obstreperous in her praise
They neither love nor know,
A goddess of gone days,
Departed long ago,
Abandoning the invaded shrines and fanes
Of her old sanctuary,
A deity obscure and legendary,
Of whom there now remains,
For sages to decipher and priests to garble,
Only and for a little while her letters wedged in marble,
Which even now, behold, the friendly mumbling rain erases,
And the inarticulate snow,
Leaving at last of her least signs and traces
None whatsoever, nor whither she is vanished from these places.
"She will love well," I said,
"If love be of that heart inhabiter,
The flowers of the dead;
The red anemone that with no sound
Moves in the wind, and from another wound
That sprang, the heavily-sweet blue hyacinth,
That blossoms underground,
And sallow poppies, will be dear to her.
And will not Silence know
In the black shade of what obsidian steep
Stiffens the white narcissus numb with sleep?
(Seed which Demeter's daughter bore from home,
Uptorn by desperate fingers long ago,
Reluctant even as she,
Undone Persephone,
And even as she set out again to grow
In twilight, in perdition's lean and inauspicious loam).
She will love well," I said,
"The flowers of the dead;
Where dark Persephone the winter round,
Uncomforted for home, uncomforted,
Lacking a sunny southern slope in northern Sicily,
With sullen pupils focussed on a dream,
Stares on the stagnant stream
That moats the unequivocable battlements of Hell,
There, there will she be found,
She that is Beauty veiled from men and Music in a swound."
"I long for Silence as they long for breath
Whose helpless nostrils drink the bitter sea;
What thing can be
So stout, what so redoubtable, in Death
What fury, what considerable rage, if only she,
Upon whose icy breast,
Unquestioned, uncaressed,
One time I lay,
And whom always I lack,
Even to this day,
Being by no means from that frigid bosom weaned away,
If only she therewith be given me back?"
I sought her down that dolorous labyrinth,
Wherein no shaft of sunlight ever fell,
And in among the bloodless everywhere
I sought her, but the air,
Breathed many times and spent,
Was fretful with a whispering discontent,
And questioning me, importuning me to tell
Some slightest tidings of the light of day they know no more,
Plucking my sleeve, the eager shades were with me where I went.
I paused at every grievous door,
And harked a moment, holding up my hand,—and for a space
A hush was on them, while they watched my face;
And then they fell a-whispering as before;
So that I smiled at them and left them, seeing she was not there.
I sought her, too,
Among the upper gods, although I knew
She was not like to be where feasting is,
Nor near to Heaven's lord,
Being a thing abhorred
And shunned of him, although a child of his,
(Not yours, not yours; to you she owes not breath,
Mother of Song, being sown of Zeus upon a dream of Death).
Fearing to pass unvisited some place
And later learn, too late, how all the while,
With her still face,
She had been standing there and seen me pass, without a smile,
I sought her even to the sagging board whereat
The stout immortals sat;
But such a laughter shook the mighty hall
No one could hear me say:
Had she been seen upon the Hill that day?
And no one knew at all
How long I stood, or when at last I sighed and went away.
There is a garden lying in a lull
Between the mountains and the mountainous sea,
I know not where, but which a dream diurnal
Paints on my lids a moment till the hull
Be lifted from the kernel
And Slumber fed to me.
Your foot-print is not there, Mnemosene,
Though it would seem a ruined place and after
Your lichenous heart, being full
Of broken columns, caryatides
Thrown to the earth and fallen forward on their jointless knees,
And urns funereal altered into dust
Minuter than the ashes of the dead,
And Psyche's lamp out of the earth up-thrust,
Dripping itself in marble wax on what was once the bed
Of Love, and his young body asleep, but now is dust instead.
There twists the bitter-sweet, the white wisteria Fastens its fingers in the strangling wall,
And the wide crannies quicken with bright weeds;
There dumbly like a worm all day the still white orchid feeds;
But never an echo of your daughters' laughter
Is there, nor any sign of you at all
Swells fungous from the rotten bough, grey mother of Pieria!
Only her shadow once upon a stone
I saw,—and, lo, the shadow and the garden, too, were gone.
I tell you you have done her body an ill,
You chatterers, you noisy crew!
She is not anywhere!
I sought her in deep Hell;
And through the world as well;
I thought of Heaven and I sought her there;
Above nor under ground
Is Silence to be found,
That was the very warp and woof of you,
Lovely before your songs began and after they were through!
Oh, say if on this hill
Somewhere your sister's body lies in death,
So I may follow there, and make a wreath
Of my locked hands, that on her quiet breast
Shall lie till age has withered them!
(Ah, sweetly from the rest
I see
Turn and consider me
Compassionate Euterpe!)
"There is a gate beyond the gate of Death,
Beyond the gate of everlasting Life,
Beyond the gates of Heaven and Hell," she saith,
"Whereon but to believe is horror!
Whereon to meditate engendereth
Even in deathless spirits such as I
A tumult in the breath,
A chilling of the inexhaustible blood
Even in my veins that never will be dry,
And in the austere, divine monotony
That is my being, the madness of an unaccustomed mood.
This is her province whom you lack and seek;
And seek her not elsewhere.
Hell is a thoroughfare
For pilgrims,—Herakles,
And he that loved Euridice too well,
Have walked therein; and many more than these;
And witnessed the desire and the despair
Of souls that passed reluctantly and sicken for the air;
You, too, have entered Hell,
And issued thence; but thence whereof I speak
None has returned;—for thither fury brings
Only the driven ghosts of them that flee before all things.
Oblivion is the name of this abode: and she is there."
Oh, radiant Song! Oh, gracious Memory!
Be long upon this height
I shall not climb again!
I know the way you mean,—the little night,
And the long empty day,—never to see
Again the angry light,
Or hear the hungry noises cry my brain!
Ah, but she,
Your other sister and my other soul,
She shall again be mine;
And I shall drink her from a silver bowl,
A chilly thin green wine,
Not bitter to the taste,
Not sweet,
Not of your press, oh, restless, clamorous nine,—
To foam beneath the frantic hoofs of mirth—
But savoring faintly of the acid earth,
And trod by pensive feet
From perfect clusters ripened without haste
Out of the urgent heat
In some clear glimmering vaulted twilight under the odorous vine
. Lift up your lyres! Sing on!
But as for me, I seek your sister whither she is gone.
I should like to rise and go
Where the golden apples grow;--
Where below another sky
Parrot islands anchored lie,
And, watched by cockatoos and goats,
Lonely Crusoes building boats;--
Where in sunshine reaching out
Eastern cities, miles about,
Are with mosque and minaret
Among sandy gardens set,
And the rich goods from near and far
Hang for sale in the bazaar;--
Where the Great Wall round China goes,
And on one side the desert blows,
And with the voice and bell and drum,
Cities on the other hum;--
Where are forests hot as fire,
Wide as England, tall as a spire,
Full of apes and cocoa-nuts
And the negro hunters' huts;--
Where the knotty crocodile
Lies and blinks in the Nile,
And the red flamingo flies
Hunting fish before his eyes;--
Where in jungles near and far,
Man-devouring tigers are,
Lying close and giving ear
Lest the hunt be drawing near,
Or a comer-by be seen
Swinging in the palanquin;--
Where among the desert sands
Some deserted city stands,
All its children, sweep and prince,
Grown to manhood ages since,
Not a foot in street or house,
Not a stir of child or mouse,
And when kindly falls the night,
In all the town no spark of light.
There I'll come when I'm a man
With a camel caravan;
Light a fire in the gloom
Of some dusty dining-room;
See the pictures on the walls,
Heroes fights and festivals;
And in a corner find the toys
Of the old Egyptian boys.
"Curse thee, Life, I will live with thee no more!
Thou hast mocked me, starved me, beat my body sore!
And all for a pledge that was not pledged by me,
I have kissed thy crust and eaten sparingly
That I might eat again, and met thy sneers
With deprecations, and thy blows with tears,—
Aye, from thy glutted lash, glad, crawled away,
As if spent passion were a holiday!
And now I go. Nor threat, nor easy vow
Of tardy kindness can avail thee now
With me, whence fear and faith alike are flown;
Lonely I came, and I depart alone,
And know not where nor unto whom I go;
But that thou canst not follow me I know."
Thus I to Life, and ceased; but through my brain
My thought ran still, until I spake again:
"Ah, but I go not as I came,—no trace
Is mine to bear away of that old grace
I brought! I have been heated in thy fires,
Bent by thy hands, fashioned to thy desires,
Thy mark is on me! I am not the same
Nor ever more shall be, as when I came.
Ashes am I of all that once I seemed.
In me all's sunk that leapt, and all that dreamed
Is wakeful for alarm,—oh, shame to thee,
For the ill change that thou hast wrought in me,
Who laugh no more nor lift my throat to sing
Ah, Life, I would have been a pleasant thing
To have about the house when I was grown
If thou hadst left my little joys alone!
I asked of thee no favor save this one:
That thou wouldst leave me playing in the sun!
And this thou didst deny, calling my name
Insistently, until I rose and came.
I saw the sun no more.—It were not well
So long on these unpleasant thoughts to dwell,
Need I arise to-morrow and renew
Again my hated tasks, but I am through
With all things save my thoughts and this one night,
So that in truth I seem already quite
Free,and remote from thee,—I feel no haste
And no reluctance to depart; I taste
Merely, with thoughtful mien, an unknown draught,
That in a little while I shall have quaffed."
Thus I to Life, and ceased, and slightly smiled,
Looking at nothing; and my thin dreams filed
Before me one by one till once again
I set new words unto an old refrain:
"Treasures thou hast that never have been mine!
Warm lights in many a secret chamber shine
Of thy gaunt house, and gusts of song have blown
Like blossoms out to me that sat alone!
And I have waited well for thee to show
If any share were mine,—and now I go
Nothing I leave, and if I naught attain
I shall but come into mine own again!"
Thus I to Life, and ceased, and spake no more,
But turning, straightway, sought a certain door
In the rear wall. Heavy it was, and low
And dark,—a way by which none e'er would go
That other exit had, and never knock
Was heard thereat,—bearing a curious lock
Some chance had shown me fashioned faultily,
Whereof Life held content the useless key,
And great coarse hinges, thick and rough with rust,
Whose sudden voice across a silence must,
I knew, be harsh and horrible to hear,—
A strange door, ugly like a dwarf.—So near
I came I felt upon my feet the chill
Of acid wind creeping across the sill.
So stood longtime, till over me at last
Came weariness, and all things other passed
To make it room; the still night drifted deep
Like snow about me, and I longed for sleep.
But, suddenly, marking the morning hour,
Bayed the deep-throated bell within the tower!
Startled, I raised my head,—and with a shout
Laid hold upon the latch,—and was without.
* * * *
Ah, long-forgotten, well-remembered road,
Leading me back unto my old abode,
My father's house! There in the night I came,
And found them feasting, and all things the same
As they had been before. A splendour hung
Upon the walls, and such sweet songs were sung
As, echoing out of very long ago,
Had called me from the house of Life, I know.
So fair their raiment shone I looked in shame
On the unlovely garb in which I came;
Then straightway at my hesitancy mocked:
"It is my father's house!" I said and knocked;
And the door opened. To the shining crowd
Tattered and dark I entered, like a cloud,
Seeing no face but his; to him I crept,
And "Father!" I cried, and clasped his knees, and wept.
* * * *
Ah, days of joy that followed! All alone
I wandered through the house. My own, my own,
My own to touch, my own to taste and smell,
All I had lacked so long and loved so well!
None shook me out of sleep, nor hushed my song,
Nor called me in from the sunlight all day long.
I know not when the wonder came to me
Of what my father's business might be,
And whither fared and on what errands bent
The tall and gracious messengers he sent.
Yet one day with no song from dawn till night
Wondering, I sat, and watched them out of sight.
And the next day I called; and on the third
Asked them if I might go,—but no one heard.
Then, sick with longing, I arose at last
And went unto my father,—in that vast
Chamber wherein he for so many years
Has sat, surrounded by his charts and spheres.
"Father," I said, "Father, I cannot play
The harp that thou didst give me, and all day
I sit in idleness, while to and fro
About me thy serene, grave servants go;
And I am weary of my lonely ease.
Better a perilous journey overseas
Away from thee, than this, the life I lead,
To sit all day in the sunshine like a weed
That grows to naught,—I love thee more than they
Who serve thee most; yet serve thee in no way.
Father, I beg of thee a little task
To dignify my days,—'tis all I ask
Forever, but forever, this denied,
I perish."
"Child," my father's voice replied,
"All things thy fancy hath desired of me
Thou hast received. I have prepared for thee
Within my house a spacious chamber, where
Are delicate things to handle and to wear,
And all these things are thine. Dost thou love song?
My minstrels shall attend thee all day long.
Or sigh for flowers? My fairest gardens stand
Open as fields to thee on every hand.
And all thy days this word shall hold the same:
No pleasure shalt thou lack that thou shalt name.
But as for tasks—" he smiled, and shook his head;
"Thou hadst thy task, and laidst it by," he said.
I cannot but remember
When the year grows old—
How she disliked the cold!
She used to watch the swallows
Go down across the sky,
And turn from the window
With a little sharp sigh.
And often when the brown leaves
Were brittle on the ground,
And the wind in the chimney
Made a melancholy sound,
She had a look about her
That I wish I could forget—
The look of a scared thing
Sitting in a net!
Oh, beautiful at nightfall
The soft spitting snow!
And beautiful the bare boughs
Rubbing to and fro!
But the roaring of the fire,
And the warmth of fur,
And the boiling of the kettle
Were beautiful to her!
I cannot but remember
When the year grows old —
October — November —
How she disliked the cold!
The room is full of you!—As I came in
And closed the door behind me, all at once
A something in the air, intangible,
Yet stiff with meaning, struck my senses sick!—
Sharp, unfamiliar odors have destroyed
Each other room's dear personality.
The heavy scent of damp, funereal flowers,—
The very essence, hush-distilled, of Death—
Has strangled that habitual breath of home
Whose expiration leaves all houses dead;
And wheresoe'er I look is hideous change.
Save here. Here 'twas as if a weed-choked gate
Had opened at my touch, and I had stepped
Into some long-forgot, enchanted, strange,
Sweet garden of a thousand years ago
And suddenly thought, "I have been here before!"
You are not here. I know that you are gone,
And will not ever enter here again.
And yet it seems to me, if I should speak,
Your silent step must wake across the hall;
If I should turn my head, that your sweet eyes
Would kiss me from the door.—So short a time
To teach my life its transposition to
This difficult and unaccustomed key!—
The room is as you left it; your last touch—
A thoughtless pressure, knowing not itself
As saintly—hallows now each simple thing;
Hallows and glorifies, and glows between
The dust's grey fingers like a shielded light.
There is your book, just as you laid it down,
Face to the table,—I cannot believe
That you are gone!—Just then it seemed to me
You must be here. I almost laughed to think
How like reality the dream had been;
Yet knew before I laughed, and so was still.
That book, outspread, just as you laid it down!
Perhaps you thought, "I wonder what comes next,
And whether this or this will be the end";
So rose, and left it, thinking to return.
Perhaps that chair, when you arose and passed
Out of the room, rocked silently a while
Ere it again was still. When you were gone
Forever from the room, perhaps that chair,
Stirred by your movement, rocked a little while,
Silently, to and fro...
And here are the last words your fingers wrote,
Scrawled in broad characters across a page
In this brown book I gave you. Here your hand,
Guiding your rapid pen, moved up and down.
Here with a looping knot you crossed a "t,"
And here another like it, just beyond
These two eccentric "e's." You were so small,
And wrote so brave a hand!
How strange it seems
That of all words these are the words you chose!
And yet a simple choice; you did not know
You would not write again. If you had known—
But then, it does not matter,—and indeed
If you had known there was so little time
You would have dropped your pen and come to me
And this page would be empty, and some phrase
Other than this would hold my wonder now.
Yet, since you could not know, and it befell
That these are the last words your fingers wrote,
There is a dignity some might not see
In this, "I picked the first sweet-pea to-day."
To-day! Was there an opening bud beside it
You left until to-morrow?—O my love,
The things that withered,—and you came not back
That day you filled this circle of my arms
That now is empty. (O my empty life!)
That day—that day you picked the first sweet-pea,—
And brought it in to show me! I recall
With terrible distinctness how the smell
Of your cool gardens drifted in with you.
I know, you held it up for me to see
And flushed because I looked not at the flower,
But at your face; and when behind my look
You saw such unmistakable intent
You laughed and brushed your flower against my lips.
(You were the fairest thing God ever made,
I think.) And then your hands above my heart
Drew down its stem into a fastening,
And while your head was bent I kissed your hair.
I wonder if you knew. (Beloved hands!
Somehow I cannot seem to see them still.
Somehow I cannot seem to see the dust
In your bright hair.) What is the need of Heaven
When earth can be so sweet?—If only God
Had let us love,—and show the world the way!
Strange cancellings must ink th' eternal books
When love-crossed-out will bring the answer right!
That first sweet-pea! I wonder where it is.
It seems to me I laid it down somewhere,
And yet,—I am not sure. I am not sure,
Even, if it was white or pink; for then
'Twas much like any other flower to me
Save that it was the first. I did not know
Then, that it was the last. If I had known—
But then, it does not matter. Strange how few,
After all's said and done, the things that are
Of moment.
Few indeed! When I can make
Of ten small words a rope to hang the world!
"I had you and I have you now no more."
There, there it dangles,—where's the little truth
That can for long keep footing under that
When its slack syllables tighten to a thought?
Here, let me write it down! I wish to see
Just how a thing like that will look on paper!
"I had you and I have you now no more."
O little words, how can you run so straight
Across the page, beneath the weight you bear?
How can you fall apart, whom such a theme
Has bound together, and hereafter aid
In trivial expression, that have been
So hideously dignified?—Would God
That tearing you apart would tear the thread
I strung you on! Would God—O God, my mind
Stretches asunder on this merciless rack
Of imagery! O, let me sleep a while!
Would I could sleep, and wake to find me back
In that sweet summer afternoon with you.
Summer? Tis summer still by the calendar!
How easily could God, if He so willed,
Set back the world a little turn or two!
Correct its griefs, and bring its joys again!
We were so wholly one I had not thought
That we could die apart. I had not thought
That I could move,—and you be stiff and still!
That I could speak,—and you perforce be dumb!
I think our heart-strings were, like warp and woof
In some firm fabric, woven in and out;
Your golden filaments in fair design
Across my duller fibre. And to-day
The shining strip is rent; the exquisite
Fine pattern is destroyed; part of your heart
Aches in my breast; part of my heart lies chilled
In the damp earth with you. I have been tom
In two, and suffer for the rest of me.
What is my life to me? And what am I
To life,—a ship whose star has guttered out?
A Fear that in the deep night starts awake
Perpetually, to find its senses strained
Against the taut strings of the quivering air,
Awaiting the return of some dread chord?
Dark, Dark, is all I find for metaphor;
All else were contrast,—save that contrast's wall
Is down, and all opposed things flow together
Into a vast monotony, where night
And day, and frost and thaw, and death and life,
Are synonyms. What now—what now to me
Are all the jabbering birds and foolish flowers
That clutter up the world? You were my song!
Now, let discord scream! You were my flower!
Now let the world grow weeds! For I shall not
Plant things above your grave—(the common balm
Of the conventional woe for its own wound!)
Amid sensations rendered negative
By your elimination stands to-day,
Certain, unmixed, the element of grief;
I sorrow; and I shall not mock my truth
With travesties of suffering, nor seek
To effigy its incorporeal bulk
In little wry-faced images of woe.
I cannot call you back; and I desire
No utterance of my immaterial voice.
I cannot even turn my face this way
Or that, and say, "My face is turned to you";
I know not where you are, I do not know
If Heaven hold you or if earth transmute,
Body and soul, you into earth again;
But this I know:—not for one second's space
Shall I insult my sight with visionings
Such as the credulous crowd so eager-eyed
Beholds, self-conjured, in the empty air.
Let the world wail! Let drip its easy tears!
My sorrow shall be dumb!
—What do I say?
God! God!—God pity me! Am I gone mad
That I should spit upon a rosary?
Am I become so shrunken? Would to God
I too might feel that frenzied faith whose touch
Makes temporal the most enduring grief;
Though it must walk a while, as is its wont,
With wild lamenting! Would I too might weep
Where weeps the world and hangs its piteous wreaths
For its new dead! Not Truth, but Faith, it is
That keeps the world alive. If all at once
Faith were to slacken,—that unconscious faith
Which must, I know, yet be the corner-stone
Of all believing,—birds now flying fearless
Across would drop in terror to the earth;
Fishes would drown; and the all-governing reins
Would tangle in the frantic hands of God
And the worlds gallop headlong to destruction!
O God, I see it now, and my sick brain
Staggers and swoons! How often over me
Flashes this breathlessness of sudden sight
In which I see the universe unrolled
Before me like a scroll and read thereon
Chaos and Doom, where helpless planets whirl
Dizzily round and round and round and round,
Like tops across a table, gathering speed
With every spin, to waver on the edge
One instant—looking over—and the next
To shudder and lurch forward out of sight—
* * * * * * *
Ah, I am worn out—I am wearied out—
It is too much—I am but flesh and blood,
And I must sleep. Though you were dead again,
I am but flesh and blood and I must sleep.
All I could see from where I stood
Was three long mountains and a wood;
I turned and looked another way,
And saw three islands in a bay.
So with my eyes I traced the line
Of the horizon, thin and fine,
Straight around till I was come
Back to where I'd started from;
And all I saw from where I stood
Was three long mountains and a wood.
Over these things I could not see;
These were the things that bounded me;
And I could touch them with my hand,
Almost, I thought, from where I stand.
And all at once things seemed so small
My breath came short, and scarce at all.
But, sure, the sky is big, I said;
Miles and miles above my head;
So here upon my back I'll lie
And look my fill into the sky.
And so I looked, and, after all,
The sky was not so very tall.
The sky, I said, must somewhere stop,
And—sure enough!—I see the top!
The sky, I thought, is not so grand;
I 'most could touch it with my hand!
And reaching up my hand to try,
I screamed to feel it touch the sky.
I screamed, and—lo!—Infinity
Came down and settled over me;
Forced back my scream into my chest,
Bent back my arm upon my breast,
And, pressing of the Undefined
The definition on my mind,
Held up before my eyes a glass
Through which my shrinking sight did pass
Until it seemed I must behold
Immensity made manifold;
Whispered to me a word whose sound
Deafened the air for worlds around,
And brought unmuffled to my ears
The gossiping of friendly spheres,
The creaking of the tented sky,
The ticking of Eternity.
I saw and heard, and knew at last
The How and Why of all things, past,
And present, and forevermore.
The Universe, cleft to the core,
Lay open to my probing sense
That, sick'ning, I would fain pluck thence
But could not,—nay! But needs must suck
At the great wound, and could not pluck
My lips away till I had drawn
All venom out.—Ah, fearful pawn!
For my omniscience paid I toll
In infinite remorse of soul.
All sin was of my sinning, all
Atoning mine, and mine the gall
Of all regret. Mine was the weight
Of every brooded wrong, the hate
That stood behind each envious thrust,
Mine every greed, mine every lust.
And all the while for every grief,
Each suffering, I craved relief
With individual desire,—
Craved all in vain! And felt fierce fire
About a thousand people crawl;
Perished with each,—then mourned for all!
A man was starving in Capri;
He moved his eyes and looked at me;
I felt his gaze, I heard his moan,
And knew his hunger as my own.
I saw at sea a great fog bank
Between two ships that struck and sank;
A thousand screams the heavens smote;
And every scream tore through my throat.
No hurt I did not feel, no death
That was not mine; mine each last breath
That, crying, met an answering cry
From the compassion that was I.
All suffering mine, and mine its rod;
Mine, pity like the pity of God.
Ah, awful weight! Infinity
Pressed down upon the finite Me!
My anguished spirit, like a bird,
Beating against my lips I heard;
Yet lay the weight so close about
There was no room for it without.
And so beneath the weight lay I
And suffered death, but could not die.
Long had I lain thus, craving death,
When quietly the earth beneath
Gave way, and inch by inch, so great
At last had grown the crushing weight,
Into the earth I sank till I
Full six feet under ground did lie,
And sank no more,—there is no weight
Can follow here, however great.
From off my breast I felt it roll,
And as it went my tortured soul
Burst forth and fled in such a gust
That all about me swirled the dust.
Deep in the earth I rested now;
Cool is its hand upon the brow
And soft its breast beneath the head
Of one who is so gladly dead.
And all at once, and over all
The pitying rain began to fall;
I lay and heard each pattering hoof
Upon my lowly, thatched roof,
And seemed to love the sound far more
Than ever I had done before.
For rain it hath a friendly sound
To one who's six feet underground;
And scarce the friendly voice or face:
A grave is such a quiet place.
The rain, I said, is kind to come
And speak to me in my new home.
I would I were alive again
To kiss the fingers of the rain,
To drink into my eyes the shine
Of every slanting silver line,
To catch the freshened, fragrant breeze
From drenched and dripping apple-trees.
For soon the shower will be done,
And then the broad face of the sun
Will laugh above the rain-soaked earth
Until the world with answering mirth
Shakes joyously, and each round drop
Rolls, twinkling, from its grass-blade top.
How can I bear it; buried here,
While overhead the sky grows clear
And blue again after the storm?
O, multi-colored, multiform,
Beloved beauty over me,
That I shall never, never see
Again! Spring-silver, autumn-gold,
That I shall never more behold!
Sleeping your myriad magics through,
Close-sepulchred away from you!
O God, I cried, give me new birth,
And put me back upon the earth!
Upset each cloud's gigantic gourd
And let the heavy rain, down-poured
In one big torrent, set me free,
Washing my grave away from me!
I ceased; and through the breathless hush
That answered me, the far-off rush
Of herald wings came whispering
Like music down the vibrant string
Of my ascending prayer, and—crash!
Before the wild wind's whistling lash
The startled storm-clouds reared on high
And plunged in terror down the sky,
And the big rain in one black wave
Fell from the sky and struck my grave.
I know not how such things can be;
I only know there came to me
A fragrance such as never clings
To aught save happy living things;
A sound as of some joyous elf
Singing sweet songs to please himself,
And, through and over everything,
A sense of glad awakening.
The grass, a-tiptoe at my ear,
Whispering to me I could hear;
I felt the rain's cool finger-tips
Brushed tenderly across my lips,
Laid gently on my sealed sight,
And all at once the heavy night
Fell from my eyes and I could see,—
A drenched and dripping apple-tree,
A last long line of silver rain,
A sky grown clear and blue again.
And as I looked a quickening gust
Of wind blew up to me and thrust
Into my face a miracle
Of orchard-breath, and with the smell,—
I know not how such things can be!—
I breathed my soul back into me.
Ah! Up then from the ground sprang I
And hailed the earth with such a cry
As is not heard save from a man
Who has been dead, and lives again.
About the trees my arms I wound;
Like one gone mad I hugged the ground;
I raised my quivering arms on high;
I laughed and laughed into the sky,
Till at my throat a strangling sob
Caught fiercely, and a great heart-throb
Sent instant tears into my eyes;
O God, I cried, no dark disguise
Can e'er hereafter hide from me
Thy radiant identity!
Thou canst not move across the grass
But my quick eyes will see Thee pass,
Nor speak, however silently,
But my hushed voice will answer Thee.
I know the path that tells Thy way
Through the cool eve of every day;
God, I can push the grass apart
And lay my finger on Thy heart!
The world stands out on either side
No wider than the heart is wide;
Above the world is stretched the sky,—
No higher than the soul is high.
The heart can push the sea and land
Farther away on either hand;
The soul can split the sky in two,
And let the face of God shine through.
But East and West will pinch the heart
That can not keep them pushed apart;
And he whose soul is flat—the sky
Will cave in on him by and by.
"Son," said my mother,
When I was knee-high,
"you've need of clothes to cover you,
and not a rag have I.
"There's nothing in the house
To make a boy breeches,
Nor shears to cut a cloth with,
Nor thread to take stitches.
"There's nothing in the house
But a loaf-end of rye,
And a harp with a woman's head
Nobody will buy,"
And she began to cry.
That was in the early fall.
When came the late fall,
"Son," she said, "the sight of you
Makes your mother's blood crawl,—
"Little skinny shoulder-blades
Sticking through your clothes!
And where you'll get a jacket from
God above knows.
"It's lucky for me, lad,
Your daddy's in the ground,
And can't see the way I let
His son go around!"
And she made a ***** sound.
That was in the late fall.
When the winter came,
I'd not a pair of breeches
Nor a shirt to my name.
I couldn't go to school,
Or out of doors to play.
And all the other little boys
Passed our way.
"Son," said my mother,
"Come, climb into my lap,
And I'll chafe your little bones
While you take a nap."
And, oh, but we were silly
For half and hour or more,
Me with my long legs,
Dragging on the floor,
To a mother-goose rhyme!
Oh, but we were happy
For half an hour's time!
But there was I, a great boy,
And what would folks say
To hear my mother singing me
To sleep all day,
In such a daft way?
Men say the winter
Was bad that year;
Fuel was scarce,
And food was dear.
A wind with a wolf's head
Howled about our door,
And we burned up the chairs
And sat upon the floor.
All that was left us
Was a chair we couldn't break,
And the harp with a woman's head
Nobody would take,
For song or pity's sake.
The night before Christmas
I cried with cold,
I cried myself to sleep
Like a two-year old.
And in the deep night
I felt my mother rise,
And stare down upon me
With love in her eyes.
I saw my mother sitting
On the one good chair,
A light falling on her
From I couldn't tell where.
Looking nineteen,
And not a day older,
And the harp with a woman's head
Leaned against her shoulder.
Her thin fingers, moving
In the thin, tall strings,
Were weav-weav-weaving
Wonderful things.
Many bright threads,
From where I couldn't see,
Were running through the harp-strings
And gold threads whistling
Through my mother's hand.
I saw the web grow,
And the pattern expand.
She wove a child's jacket,
And when it was done
She laid it on the floor
And wove another one.
She wove a red cloak
So regal to see,
"She's made it for a king's son,"
I said, "and not for me."
But I knew it was for me.
She wove a pair of breeches
Quicker than that!
She wove a pair of boots
And a little cocked hat.
She wove a pair of mittens,
Shw wove a little blouse,
She wove all night
In the still, cold house.
She sang as she worked,
And the harp-strings spoke;
Her voice never faltered,
And the thread never broke,
And when I awoke,—
There sat my mother
With the harp against her shoulder,
Looking nineteeen,
And not a day older,
A smile about her lips,
And a light about her head,
And her hands in the harp-strings
Frozen dead.
And piled beside her
And toppling to the skies,
Were the clothes of a king's son,
Just my size.
I SHALL forget you presently, my dear,
So make the most of this, your little day,
Your little month, your little half a year,
Ere I forget, or die, or move away,
And we are done forever; by and by
I shall forget you, as I said, but now,
If you entreat me with your loveliest lie
I will protest you with my favorite vow.
I would indeed that love were longer-lived,
And vows were not so brittle as they are,
But so it is, and nature has contrived
To struggle on without a break thus far,
Whether or not we find what we are seeking
Is idle, biologically speaking.
There it was I saw what I shall never forget
And never retrieve.
Monstrous and beautiful to human eyes, hard to
He lay, yet there he lay,
Asleep on the moss, his head on his polished cleft
small ebony hoves,
The child of the doe, the dappled child of the deer.
Surely his mother had never said, "Lie here
Till I return," so spotty and plain to see
On the green moss lay he.
His eyes had opened; he considered me.
I would have given more than I care to say
To thrifty ears, might I have had him for my friend
One moment only of that forest day:
Might I have had the acceptance, not the love
Of those clear eyes;
Might I have been for him in the bough above
Or the root beneath his forest bed,
A part of the forest, seen without surprise.
Was it alarm, or was it the wind of my fear lest he
That jerked him to his jointy knees,
And sent him crashing off, leaping and stumbling
On his new legs, between the stems of the white
Read by the poet at The Public Ceremonial of The Naional Institute
of Arts and Letters at Carnegie Hall, New York, January 18th, 1941.
Great Muse, that from this hall absent for long
Hast never been,
Great Muse of Song,
Colossal Muse of mighty Melody,
Vocal Calliope,
With thine august and contrapuntal brow
And thy vast throat builded for Harmony,
For the strict monumental pure design,
And the melodic line:
Be thou tonight with all beneath these rafters—be with me.
If I address thee in archaic style—
Words obsolete, words obsolescent,
It is that for a little while
The heart must, oh indeed must from this angry and out-rageous present
Itself withdraw
Into some past in which most crooked Evil,
Although quite certainly conceived and born, was not as yet the Law.
Archaic, or obsolescent at the least,
Be thy grave speaking and the careful words of thy clear song,
For the time wrongs us, and the words most common to our speech today
Salute and welcome to the feast
Conspicuous Evil— or against him all day long
Cry out, telling of ugly deeds and most uncommon wrong.
Be thou tonight with all beneath these rafters—be with me
But oh, be more with those who are not free.
Who, herded into prison camps all shame must suffer and all outrage see.
Where music is not played nor sung,
Though the great voice be there, no sound from the dry throat across the thickened tongue
Comes forth; nor has he heart for it.
Beauty in all things—no, we cannot hope for that; but some place set apart for it.
Here it may dwell;
And with your aid, Melpomene
And all thy sister-muses (for ye are, I think, daughters of Memory)
Within the tortured mind as well.
Reaped are those fields with dragon's-teeth so lately sown;
Many the heaped men dying there - so close, hip touches thigh; yet each man dies alone.
Music, what overtone
For the soft ultimate sigh or the unheeded groan
Hast thou—to make death decent, where men slip
Down blood to death, no service of grieved heart or ritual lip
Transferring what was recently a man and still is warm—
Transferring his obedient limbs into the shallow grave where not again a friend shall greet him,
Nor hatred do him harm . . .
Nor true love run to meet him?
In the last hours of him who lies untended
On a cold field at night, and sees the hard bright stars
Above his upturned face, and says aloud "How strange . . . my life is ended."—
If in the past he loved great music much, and knew it well,
Let not his lapsing mind be teased by well-beloved but ill- remembered bars —
Let the full symphony across the blood-soaked field
By him be heard, most pure in every part,
The lonely horror of whose painful death is thus repealed,
Who dies with quiet tears upon his upturned face, making to glow with softness the hard stars.
And bring to those who knew great poetry well
Page after page that they have loved but have not learned by heart!
We who in comfort to well-lighted shelves
Can turn for all the poets ever wrote,
Beseech you: Bear to those
Who love high art no less than we ourselves,
Those who lie wounded, those who in prison cast
Strive to recall, to ease them, some great ode, and every stanza save the last.
Recall—oh, in the dark, restore them
The unremembered lines; make bright the page before them!
Page after page present to these,
In prison concentrated, watched by barbs of bayonet and wire,
Give ye to them their hearts' intense desire—
The words of Shelley, Virgil, Sophocles.
And thou, O lovely and not sad,
Euterpe, be thou in this hall tonight!
Bid us remember all we ever had
Of sweet and gay delight—
We who are free,
But cannot quite be glad,
Thinking of huge, abrupt disaster brought
Upon so many of our kind
Who treasure as do we the vivid look on the unfrightened face,
The careless happy stride from place to place,
And the unbounded regions of untrammelled thought
Open as interstellar space
To the exploring and excited mind.
O Muses, O immortal Nine!—
Or do ye languish? Can ye die?
Must all go under?—
How shall we heal without your help a world
By these wild horses torn asunder?
How shall we build anew? — How start again?
How cure, how even moderate this pain
Without you, and you strong?
And if ye sleep, then waken!
And if ye sicken and do plan to die,
Do not that now!
Hear us, in what sharp need we cry!
For we have help nowhere
If not in you!
Pity can much, and so a mighty mind, but cannot all things do!—
By you forsaken,
We shall be scattered, we shall be overtaken!
Oh, come! Renew in us the ancient wonder,
The grace of life, its courage, and its joy!
Weave us those garlands nothing can destroy!
Come! with your radiant eyes! — with your throats of thunder!


text:
Holiday greetings from all of us in Inversgail, Scotland! I know you're most likely busy so I won't keep you, but I do want to share a recipe with you. It's one that delights me for several reasons. First, it's a traditional Scottish dessert, and I love both—desserts and Scotland. Second, it calls for whisky and oatmeal and I like both of those, too. Third, it's dead easy to make and who doesn't like that idea? Fourth, it's pretty. And that's really enough, isn't it? So, from my kitchen to yours – I give you cranachan. Pronounce it with a bit of a guttural on the ch and you'll sound like a pro.
4 tbsp. pinhead oatmeal (steel cut oats)
1 ¼ cup whipping cream
2 tbsp. whisky (optional) (so they say)
3 tbsp. liquid honey (preferably heather honey)
2 cups fresh raspberries
4 parfait or other tall glasses
Toast the oatmeal in a frying pan over low heat for 20 to 30 minutes. Shake the pan from time to time until the oatmeal is lightly browned. Meanwhile, whip the cream until it is thick but not stiff. Fold in the whisky and honey. Reserve the best raspberries to decorate the top. Fold the rest into the cream gently. Spoon the mixture into the parfait glasses, sprinkle with the toasted oatmeal, decorate with the reserved raspberries, and chill until ready to serve. A variant is called Ale-Crowdie and calls for ale, treacle, and whisky with the oatmeal.
Oh, and if you're looking for any last minute presents, stop by Yon Bonnie Books. Our newest inventory is online here, and we'll be open until noon on Christmas Eve. Happy Holidays!
Molly MacRae is also the author of the award-winning, national bestselling Haunted Yarn Shop Mysteries. Visit Molly on Facebook and Pinterest, connect with her on Twitter @mysteryMacRae, or find her the first Monday of each month at Amy Alessio's Vintage Cookbooks and Crafts.

subset: commoncrawl


text:
We take pride in understanding your needs and make sure they are met. We have the experience and dedication that will ensure every job, from pre-planning through to completion, is handled with expertise.
Guy's early career started working, as a teenager, working summers on a concrete crew and also for the Corp of Engineers while attending college.
After graduating from Arizona State's Construction Engineering program in 1969, Guy started at M.M. Sundt Construction where he worked as a member on a survey crew. He advanced to Project Engineer on multiple highway projects. Later, through his experience at Bechtel, Dravo, and other firms, Guy rose through the ranks to Vice President of a Heavy Industrial Construction Division at Gibbons & Reed.
In 1986, with a small amount of cash and a pickup truck, Guy started an industrial construction company: Wollam Construction. As a result of his leadership, vision, and integrity, Wollam Construction is known throughout the Intermountain West as a company that delivers world-class quality projects safely, on schedule, and within budget.
Guy is an active board member on the University of Utah's Construction Management Program, a member of the American Institute of Mining Engineers (AIME) and has previously served on the board for the Associated General Contractors of Utah (AGC).
Guy is an avid fly fisherman and enjoys floating the Green River and Snake River. He and his wife Lana are active in the community supporting multiple charitable organizations including the Huntsman Cancer Institute, Tee it Up for Cancer, National Disability Center, Utah Tennis Association, and Big Brothers Big Sisters of Utah.
Matt started working for Wollam Construction when he was 17 years old as a laborer. He went on to graduate from the Del E. Webb School of Construction at Arizona State University with a Construction Engineering Degree (Heavy Emphasis). Before coming back to Wollam Construction in 2004, Matt worked for a large paving company in Arizona and a large heavy civil company in California.
Matt has been working towards leading the next generation of Wollam Construction for the last 15 years. When he started working with his father/mentor Guy Wollam, the company had 12 employees and worked on a handful of projects each year. The company has grown to 200 employees and can build over 60 projects annually.
Matt's main focuses are creating/maintaining repeat clients and building the best construction teams in the business.
Matt is an active board member for the Associated General Contractors of Utah (AGC) and Big Brothers Big Sisters of Utah (BBBSU). He is also an active mentor for 1st generation college bound students thru Mentor2.0 (a Big Brothers Big Sisters of Utah program).
Matt enjoys getting outside and finding adventures with his wife Tori and children Ava & Wyatt.
Vice President
Troy was raised on a working cattle ranch in rural Utah where he learned the importance of both a sense of responsibility and a strong work ethic at a young age. He carried these values on to an 8-year career working for a construction company specializing in drilling and blasting. While there, he worked his way up from a laborer to a foreman while also completing his bachelor's degree in civil engineering from Utah State University. He had the unique opportunity to complete an engineering internship for a corporate construction company where he worked his way up to a senior project manager level in the eight years he worked there while bidding and managing over a hundred and fifty million dollars' worth of work.
Troy made the career move to become the operations manager at Wollam Construction in 2015 and has been passionate about the growth of the company by recruiting and developing talent at all levels. He has always had the personal philosophy that companies are a strict representative of the people that they employ, and this guides his personal leadership style. Since being brought on by Wollam, he has diversified the portfolio of work the company is able to perform while managing and growing a talented and diverse workforce.
Troy is focused and committed to creating growth opportunities for both the company and the people who work there through strong leadership, strategic goal setting, and outstanding performance on all projects and at all levels.
When he isn't working, Troy enjoys spending time with his wife and three children. He is an avid sports fan and outdoor enthusiast and bases his free time around these interests alongside his family.
Sr. Project Manager
Stormy grew up in Helena, Montana and spent his high school summers working on local ranches. After high school, he attended Montana State-Northern on a football scholarship and graduated with a BS in Civil Engineering Technology in 2003.
He started his construction career in Southern California as a project engineer for Granite Construction Company. His 13 years at Granite were well-rounded as he held positions as project engineer, aggregate plant superintendent, estimator and senior project manager. His project management experience includes Design/Build, Federal DoD, Airport, Heavy/highway and MSHA construction projects.
Stormy joined the Wollam team in 2016 and has spent the last two years managing the $40 million Collom Mine Expansion project in Western Colorado.
Stormy believes in team building and knows that no organization or project is successful unless all stakeholders are working together towards a common goal. He strives to ensure all parties are engaged in the process and team members understand their roles.
Stormy spends his free time in the outdoors with his wife Lichelle and son Emmett, pursuing his interest in horse packing, team roping, hunting and backpacking.


text:
One of New York's longest-running animal assistance programs— over 100 years and counting—the Humane Society offers a comprehensive list of affordable services, including medical treatment and adoption opportunities. Dog and cat owners are welcome to bring in pets for everything from basic wellness care to advanced diagnostic and surgical procedures. And the Humane Society's Vladimir Horowitz and Wanda Toscanini Horowitz Adoption Center places more than 30,000 cats and dogs annually.
306 E 59th StManhattan, NY 10022
(212) 752-4842


text:
Hobby software being what it is, there is no centralized place to have documentation. Everyone turns to search engines, which means that user-contributed documentation can go anywhere online.. and it doesn't matter where.
This means that any project which attempts to centralize user documentation will be forced to reach out onto the net and cache their contributions from outside sources. freedesktop.org is our timely example! (wmctrl)
If the original user documentation is updated, or new documentation is created, then that central resource goes out of date.
But is there hope? Not at all! =)
An enthusiastic user can only hope to contribute directly to the project. Failing that, they have private notes or hopefully blog.. and that's one big mess.
Oh well..


text:
This is things I have done since last designteam call, using paper from Graphic45.
A book-box
A birthday card
Three tags for valentine day
A wallet
An accordion card
A hat to a hat-lover
A big box
The hat woman-layout
An album to my friend.
My own design of a bag.
A box from Graphic.
Tea for 2
My own design of a saw.
Thats all for me, I hope you like it! :-) Now please, hope the best for me.


text:
A MD5 integrity check is done when data is copied from disk to tape
Annual examination of tape library and LTO4 tapes (possibly moving to biennial due to risks to tapes)
2750TB acquired 2009-2014 with annual growth of 450TB leading to 3450TB in 2020.
Archive storage system based on CASTOR v1.8 with IBM3584 tape library, LTO 4
Current capacity for BESIII
- 2.7 PB, 2.2 PB used, 0.5 PB available
Remote replication of important raw data
~ 900 cartridges, 700 TB
- DocDB: paper, technical notes, minutes…
- Hypernews: notifications of software release, paper publishing …
- Indico: Conference slides,
- Inspire: published paper
BOSS is an integrated software package that includes all the blocks required in BESIII data processing.
For an old but stable version of BOSS, we preserve following items:
- A complete package of software,
- A runnable virtual machine image
- The puppet template and RPM repository from which a runnable OS is created,
- Release documents, book-keeping parameters…
- A functional validation is done according to the standard process of software release.
Since the experiment is still working, budget and FTEs are shared with the operation of computing centre
The experiment is expected to stop data taking at 2022 and Lifespan of preserved data is expected to be about 15 years after then.


text:
The Six Samurai are supported from the shadows by this silent and mysterious warrior. His past is unknown to them, but his countless scars are proof of his experience.
Flames of the Heart
Raid Duel - Dimensional Disaster
HERO Generation
New Week & End of the Week Campaign!
Train Your Kuriboh! Campaign
PvP Best decks [23 May 2020 Updated]
Raid Duel - Dimensional Disaster: Buster Gundil the Cubic Behemoth
How to beat/farm Aigami (DSOD)
Duel Links Leaked News [May 25 Updated]
King of Game decks [May 2020]
Yugi Muto (DSOD)
Upcoming events/updates [June 2020]
Neos Fusion: deck recipe [May 2020]
Masked HERO: deck recipe [Post-Banlist]
Dark Magician: deck recipe [Post-Banlist]
Shiranui Synchro: deck recipe [May 2020]
Blue-Eyes Synchro: deck recipe [May 2020]
Superalloy Beast Raptinus | Decks and Tips
Chemicritter Oxy Ox
Hieratic Dragon of Gebeb | Decks and Tips
Dark Magical Circle | Decks and Tips
Tethys, Goddess of Light | Deck and Rulings


text:
So I've been actually thinking about worship since last week but I am stuck in a rut and not certain where to go.
Here is what I've come up with so far:
I saw the Light – The Hymn version, not the David Crowder Version
In Christ Alone
I Stand Amazed (In the Presence) – Another Hymn
I Will Rise – Special
We Will Dance
I am really not certain about the special and the last song. We Will Dance is OK, but I'm really not liking I Will Rise as the special. I want something more celebratory and upbeat. Not so much of a downer. I'm just not sure what that song should be. I'm going to keep praying and hope I can get something figured out before two or three so we can start getting programs made.


text:
The Minnesota Department of Education recently awarded Faribault Public Schools over $2 million dollars in grants in support of our effort to improve the reading and writing skills of the students in the district.
The Striving Readers Literacy Grant is funded by the U.S. Department of Education, which granted $20 million to the MDE last fall. The funds will be used to provide coaching support for teachers and educational leaders, strengthen the use of evidence-based literacy practices and engage families and communities, with an emphasis on providing literacy support for disadvantaged children, including children living in poverty, English learners and children with disabilities.
The grant will serve an estimated 30,000 students across 25 districts statewide over the next two years. District 656 was one of just three to receive grants at all three K-12 levels. The elementary schools received $900,000, the high school received $754,524 and the middle school received $505,970. These funds will be used to hire three literacy coaches at the high school, two at the middle school and at least one each at Jefferson Elementary, Roosevelt Elementary and Lincoln Elementary.
"We're looking at it as an investment in our students and teachers. This will provide support for the teachers and make sure our kids are getting the best quality instruction," district English Language Coordinator Sam Ouk said. "To be successful in school, reading skills are so important across all content and subject areas. We want to improve our students' skills to open up more opportunities for them."
Ouk has set the goal of improving district reading and writing test scores to meet the Minnesota Comprehensive Assessments averages by the conclusion of the grant cycle, the end of the 2019-20 school year.
"It's a very attainable goal. We recognize our test scores aren't where they need to be, but this is a way to really help our teachers get the best instruction out to our students and help them succeed," Ouk said. "The population of Faribault is quite unique. Our diversity brings in a lot of opportunity for our city, but at the same time it forces us to look at things a different way when it comes to how we can help our students reach their full potential."


text:
Profile | Player
Player has no personal video.
Player has no personal video.
Many Strength and Conditioning Coaches/Scoutman are trying to get into coaching. Due to their lack of experience and knowledge, at first, they take a major pay cut in comparison to actual volleyball coaches. Currently, coaching jobs are paying very little, even in the top leagues, and some of the experienced coaches are not taking jobs for 25.000-40.000 EUR, knowing that demands are just as high as before when they were making double of this salary. Unfortunately, club leaderships see coaches as a disposable matter and therefore keep dropping salaries because there are candidates that will take these jobs. I am not here to judge, just to describe some of the dynamics around this profession. Reply
Interesting trend, that some coaches who specialised on physical training, some who never played volleyball on top level, became pretty successful volleyball coaches. It can be observed in some menś and women teams. It reflects a situation that volleyball has become a very physical sport. Even the world champion country, which in past had taught others, needs coaches from abroad who come into this category. Reply
Hello, thanks for the post and my best wishes to Virna. Althought there is a mistake, she was twice bronze medalist not silver. First Olimpic final for Brazil was Beijing Reply
1428 - Comments 4
1909 - Comments 3
1881 - Comments 2
1547 - Comments 2
903 - Comments 1


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The aim of this course is to present the history and theories of design that ran in parallel in architectural decoration, furniture as well as costumes and jewellery worn by human beings, which were part of the traditional life styles or ritual practices in ancient times but became the expression of the owner's sense of pride and marginal status, or signs of their political power and wealth in historic eras that formed such trends which could be defined as "cotemporary fashion" with an introductory yet comprehensive and critical overview.
A chronological study for the evolution of Eastern architecture and art in view of theories that created them.
First in the series of courses that survey the history and theories of world architecture and art covering the timeline from pre-historic times to the end of the medieval era, specially designed for the Department of Architecture. The focus of the course is on the theoretical perspectives that shaped architecture in the past. First part of the course deals with the evolution of architecture, built environment and art from prehistory until the end of the pagan world; the second, with architecture developed in the West and the East with the rise of new religions –Christianity and Islam- until the end of Medieval times. Due to comparative nature of the course, a rather broad geographical scope is considered to include topics and examples from Europe, Asia and Africa. Architecture of Egypt, Frygians, Hitites etc. in Anatolia, Greece, Rome, Early Christianity, Early Islamic, Byzantine, Romanesque, Gothic, Safavid, Seljuk, Mongol and Early Ottoman architecture are presented in a chronological line. All major themes and genres of architecture and art to be covered: religious and secular, civil and military architecture and art, decorative and traditional arts like calligraphy in their relationships to Architecture and design. Special emphasis will be laid on the themes of ritual, religion and political pride and power.
This is a survey of the architecture and art of Cyprus, an island which inherited a rather rich variety of material cultural from different civilizations.


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Endurance training cuts lipid-induced insulin resistance
(HealthDay) -- Endurance training seems to lessen the effect of lipid-induced insulin resistance, specifically by preventing lipid-induced reduction in nonoxidative glucose disposal (NOGD), according to a study published online July 10 in Diabetes.
In a study involving nine endurance-trained and 10 untrained subjects, Esther Phielix, from the Maastricht University Medical Center in the Netherlands, and colleagues examined whether high oxidative capacity, seen in endurance-trained athletes, could attenuate lipid-induced insulin resistance. Participants underwent a clamp with infusion of glycerol or intralipid.
The researchers found that trained athletes had significantly higher mitochondrial capacity and insulin sensitivity (~32 and ~22 percent, respectively). Insulin-stimulated glucose uptake was reduced by lipid infusion by 63 percent in untrained subjects, and this effect was attenuated in trained subjects (29 percent). Lipid infusion reduced oxidative and NOGD in untrained subjects, while trained subjects were protected from lipid-induced reduction in NOGD.
"Overall, from the current study, we conclude that chronic exercise training attenuates lipid-induced insulin resistance by preventing a reduction in NOGD," the authors write. "In the future, more mechanistic studies are needed to fully understand the mechanism by which endurance training affects lipid-induced NOGD."
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The Ithacan has been named one of 15 national finalists for the Columbia Scholastic Press Association's 2014 Crown Award in the competition's "hybrid" category. The hybrid category is defined as "print publications that provide live coverage via website between print editions."
The list of finalists in this category includes publications from Ball State University, Indiana University, the University of Pennsylvania, Iowa State University and the University of Oklahoma, among others. The winners, who will receive either a Gold or Silver Crown, will be announced at the Spring National College Media Convention in New York City, March 12–15.
The Ithacan was awarded Gold Crowns in 2013 and 2012, and a Silver Crown in 2011.
Founded in 1925, the CSPA is owned by Columbia University and operated as a program affiliated with its Graduate School of Journalism. The Crown Awards, first presented in 1982, are the organization's highest recognition of overall excellence.


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Dropping by for lunch? Tell CMS who you are - CharlotteObserver.com: "Parents who want to eat with their kids in Charlotte-Mecklenburg Schools cafeterias are expected to register as volunteers and get a criminal-background check - which comes with daily monitoring for new violations.
The reason? Lunch visits provide access to other children as well."


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Prolonged and/or regular exposure to domestic abuse can have a serious impact on a child's development and emotional well being as well as his or her physical safety. As such it is one of the potential causes of significant harm to children which may warrant the use of the child protection procedures.
any incident or pattern of incidents of controlling, coercive, threatening behaviour, violence or abuse between those aged 16 or over who are, or have been, intimate partners or family members regardless of gender or sexuality. The abuse can encompass, but is not limited to:
The new definition of domestic abuse has been extended to include coercive control as well as young people under the age of 18. This includes domestic abuse between young people in, or who were previously in, a relationship or against their family members including against their parents or carers.
The previous definition defined domestic violence as a single act or incident. The new definition recognises that patterns of behaviour and separate instances of control can add up to abuse - including instances of intimidation, isolation, depriving victims of their financial independence or material possessions and regulating their everyday behaviour.
Domestic Abuse includes coercive, controlling behaviour, as well as female genital mutilation, so called honour based violence, and forced marriage.
Controlling behaviour
Controlling behaviour is a range of acts designed to make a person subordinate and/or dependent by isolating them from sources of support, exploiting their resources and capacities for personal gain, depriving them of the means needed for independence, resistance and escape and regulating their everyday behaviour.
Coercive control
The previous definition defined domestic violence as a single act or incident. The new definition recognises that patterns of behaviour and separate instances of control can add up to abuse - including instances of intimidation, isolation, depriving victims of their financial independence or material possessions and regulating their everyday behaviour. The changes to the definition of domestic abuse raise awareness that young people in the 16 to 17 age group can also be victims of domestic violence and abuse.
Definition of domestic violence and abuse: guide for local areas
To help local areas consider the consider how the extension to the definition of domestic violence and abuse may impact on their services, the Home Office, in partnership with Against Violence and Abuse (AVA) has produced a guide for local areas.
Launched on Friday, 2 November 2018, MATAC (Multi Agency Tasking and Coordination) will, through the use of analytics, identify the most dangerous perpetrators of domestic abuse in our county. Working with partner agencies, MATAC will deliver a combination of support, prevention, diversion, disruption and enforcement through a range of criminal justice sanctions and other interventions. The key aims are preventing further domestic abuse related offending, improving victim safety and changing offender behaviour.
York and North Yorkshire Domestic Abuse Strategy 2018-22
Any practitioner who receives information or has concerns about domestic abuse must establish if there are any children living in the household, consult with their agency's safeguarding lead and consider whether advice is needed from the Children's Front Door in regard to concern about a child. Telephone number for the MASH is 01904 551900.
Where a practitioner believes that an enquiry to Children's Social Care is indicated, this should be discussed with the victim and every effort made to seek agreement. It is not necessary to have the consent of a parent in order to make an enquiry to Children's Social Care if the practitioner has reasonable cause to believe that the child is at risk of significant harm.
The Police can often be the first point of contact with families where domestic abuse takes place. The officer attending a reported incident of domestic abuse will identify whether a child was present when the incident occurred, or whether a child is ordinarily resident at the address where it occurred. They should see any child present in the house to assess their immediate safety.
Operation Encompass is a unique Police and Education early intervention safeguarding partnership which supports children and young people exposed to domestic abuse.
It involves the Police reporting to schools before the start of the next school day when a child or young person has been involved or exposed to a domestic abuse incident the previous evening. The information is given in strict confidence to a school's Key Adult to enable support to be given dependent on the needs and wishes of the child.
Domestic abuse is likely to have a damaging effect on the health and development of children, and it will often be appropriate for these children to be regarded as children in need. Normally one serious or several lesser incidents of domestic violence where there is a child in the household would indicate that Children's Social Care may need to be informed to consider carrying out a single assessment of the child and the family.
Any response by any agency to an incidence of domestic abuse should be discreet in terms of making contact with victims. Standard letters should not be sent as this could further endanger the victim or their children.
Refuge addresses should not be disclosed by any agency and the P.O Box number should be used in all correspondence. Refuge telephone numbers can be given to victims of domestic abuse.
Children may suffer from witnessing or hearing the ill treatment of another in circumstances of domestic abuse. There is a need to balance the information and use your professional judgement as to whether the child is suffering or likely to suffer significant harm. If you are unsure as to whether an enquiry should be made to Children's Social Care you must consult with your agency lead for child protection and/or contact the Children's Front Door in regard to concern about a child. Telephone number for the MASH is 01904 551900.
CYSCP provides online and face to face training for practitioners.
IDAS (Independent Domestic Abuse Services) provide comprehensive support services and refuge accommodation across Yorkshire.
National 24 hour domestic abuse helpline: 0808 2000 247. IDAS provide a free online training course
York and North Yorkshire Domestic Abuse Strategy 2018-22
Local domestic abuse advice for parents and carers
The North Yorkshire and City Of York Domestic Abuse overview strategy 2014 - 2018
Government guidance on Domestic Abuse
NSPCC Domestic Abuse resources
Safe Lives : Ending Domestic Abuse
North Yorkshire Police Domestic Abuse information
Kyra Women's Project in York


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An extraordinary home in Forest Creek GC with an amazing golf front location on the North Course. This traditional home built in the Craftsman-Style has a long list of details and amenities. The views are stunning and the living space provides great entertaining space both inside and out. Details: 4 spacious Bedroom Suites, 2 on the main level; Open Living/Dining and Kitchen area; Covered Patio and Open Patio on the main level plus an outdoor, stone fireplace and grill area; Bonus Room/Office is in the upper level and could also be an additional bedroom. The second level is home to the large family room with wet bar; two guest bedrooms and baths; additional storage and the 27 x 12 covered deck with expansive golf views. More specific details area available upon request.
Listing courtesy of Berkshire Hathaway HS Pinehurst Realty Group/SP.


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Holidays in Cumbria are a real delight for the whole family. The area is blessed with wonderful beaches, dramatic scenery, stunning countryside and easy access to the Lake District National Park. There are many options for fun family days out too with everything from theme parks to aquariums within easy reach. As well as family fun parks, farms, nature trails and aquariums the area is also one of great historical importance and there are many sites to explore. Museums, galleries, castles and forts are all at your fingertips in this diverse region
Theme Parks
The World of Beatrix Potter is one attraction not to be missed. The park takes you on a magical journey through the 23 Peter Rabbit tales bringing them to life with amazing sights and sounds. Most of the attractions are inside making it a great choice for a rainy day. Children will love to meet Peter Rabbit, Jemima Puddle-Duck and all their friends and on sunny days you can also enjoy the new Peter Rabbit Garden. Why not make a day of it and stay for lunch? The family-friendly Tea Room serves delicious food using only the freshest produce from the garden. There is also a shop which is packed with Peter Rabbit gifts and souvenirs.
Rheged in Penrith is an award wining attraction. The Rheged Centre is a family run business which has really earned its excellent reputation and is now one of Cumbria's top attractions. Inside the centre you will find a cinema and large indoor play area. Places to eat in the centre serve only local produce where possible and the shops are also stocked with local goodies. The pottery and craft room is an excellent addition and you can enjoy crafting as well as buying souvenirs. The outdoor play area is perfect for the warmer months and features turrets, tunnels, a Roman fort, Celtic roundhouse and a giant slide.
Lakes Aquarium in Ulversotn is one of the areas largest aquariums and is a good choice for a day out which is educational as well as fun! Inside you will find 30 spectacular, naturally themed habitats aimed at showcasing the wonders that lakes have to offer. Within the tanks you can see many types of fish including pike and eels. The top attraction is possibly the adorable otters who have a specially designed woodland home here. Other attractions include a mini-mammals area where you can learn about the nocturnal habits of harvest mice and brown rats and the incredible underwater tunnel which allows you to see the specially recreated Windermere lake bed through a fish's eyes. The children's quiz trail allows children to test their knowledge and see how much they have learned.
Trotters World of Animals Perfect for children of all ages the family friendly park is home to hundreds of animals. There are plenty of species to meet and learn about including some rare and endangered species as well as birds of prey and reptiles. Many of the attractions are undercover so there is no need to let the rain spoil the fun! Children looking to run off some energy will enjoy the "Clown About" soft play and indoor climbing area. Suitable for children aged between 4 and 12 there are two levels of walkways, bridges, slides, and ball pools as well as a separate toddler area. Adults can relax and enjoy a relaxing drink or snack while the kids are having fun.
Walby Farm Park only opened its door in 2008 but is already one of the most popular family days out in Cumbria. Packed with both indoor and outdoor fun the farm is a real treat for children of all ages. One of the best features is the indoor play area which is the largest in Cumbria. Outside you will find several outdoor play areas and of course being on a farm you can expect to meet lots of cute and cuddly animals as well as some not so friendly creatures! The nature trail is a great option on a warm day and you can get out and explore what the area has to offer in terms of wildlife, flora and forna. Children who still have energy to burn can take advantage of the swings, trampolines and amazing aerial slide. Other attractions include go-karts, an off-road Land Rover driving course and a range of agility equipment.
History and Culture
Honister Slate Mine is a good place for those looking to delve into the regions' history with fully guided tours which take you deep into the mine itself. While exploring the mine you will learn about the history and be able to see first hand some of the amazing feature. As well as looking into the past the tour will also show the current workings of the mine and explain the way in which modern and traditional methods are bought together to extract the slate today.
Muncaster Castle is perfect for families. The site offers a comprehensive program of events throughout the year with many child friendly events taking place during school holidays and at weekends. One event not to miss is the Festival of Fools which offers five days of entertainment. August sees the Summer of Fun event which has different activities taking place each day of the month. Muncaster is thought to be one of many haunted castles in the UK. Once home to the Pennington family for 800 years it is thought some of their spirits still roam the site today! As well as the magnificent castle there are 70 acres of gardens to enjoy and an indoor children's Meadow Vole Maze. More recent additions include the interactive computers where children can learn of the history of the castle. Muncaster is also home to the World Owl Centre and you will get the chance to really get up close and learn more about these fascinating birds at the daily display.
Nenthead Mines are one of the only remaining reminders of the industry which dominated the area for so many years. You can enjoy a fascinating tour where you will lean about the working of the mine, its history and about the lives of the people who worked so hard there. Features include the underground network of tunnels and the 'Power of Water' exhibit.
Cars of the Stars Museum. This fun Museum is packed with famous vehicles from favourite TV shows and movies including Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, James Bond, and Only Fools and Horses. As well as the cars and motorcycles on display there is a large collection of autographs from famous people. Each of the vehicles is displayed in its individual film set complete with lighting and sound effects which make for a really unique experience. There is also a small selection of children's rides.
South Tynedale Railway Showcases Preserved steam and diesel locomotives from Britain as well as from overseas. The trains run from Alston Station which is dizzying 875 feet above sea level! Along the trail you can enjoy the stunning scenery in style. In recent years the line has been extended there are plans in pace to extend it even further. As well as the delight of the journey you can also enjoy a tasty snack and there is a shop where you can pick up a souvenir.


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Disney On Ice Frozen Nashville Tickets
Disney on Ice Frozen Nashville is about to roll into town to recreate the magic of the highest grossing animated movie in history. Frozen made its way to the cinema screens in November 2013 and broke multiple box office records on its way to grossing well over one billion dollars globally. It also won two Academy Awards and a Golden Globe Award. It was a wonderful moment when Feld Entertainment, the producers and creators of the Disney on Ice, decided to add Frozen to the extravaganza. It is about to hit the road for a North America tour and you can watch your favorite characters from the movie come to life by simply booking your Disney on Ice Frozen Nashville tickets.
After winning two Academy Awards and collecting well over one billion dollars around the world, the animated blockbuster Frozen has now been added to the Disney on Ice line-up. The tour is about to get underway and the Disney on Ice Frozen Nashville event will soon bring it to the home of country music for a performance that promises to be as special as the movie itself. The Bridgestone Arena will provide the ice rink and you can be a part of this very special performance by booking your Disney on Ice Frozen Nashville tickets.
Feld Entertainment, in conjunction with The Walt Disney Company, created the Disney on Ice spectacle in 1981. What began as an experiment has now turned into one of the most famous touring spectacles in the world. Millions of fans all around the world have watched their performances live. Trained dancers, dressed up as the most famous Disney cartoons characters of all time, make their way to the ice rink to perform on some of the most memorable tracks from different Walt Disney productions.
The Disney on Ice Frozen is the latest edition to that incredible line-up. It provides you with a chance to relive the story of Elsa and Anna along with characters Sven, Olaf and Kristoff as they dance to the songs like "Do You Want to Build a Snowman," "Fixer Upper" and "Let it Go." It will be an event you will remember for a long time.
Similar Events
Q:Can I get two for one disney frozen Nashville tickets?
A:You now have a chance to sing along to 'Do you want to build a snowman' with Elsa and Anna. Disney on Ice Frozen Nashville TN Tickets are up for grabs on discounted rates. There is no two for one deal but our discount offer is active till the date of the event. In case you want to get more tickets, you will have ti buy them. Hurry and place the order as soon as possible.
Q:Are Disney On Ice: Frozen Nashville TN 2020 tickets available?
A:Experience Disney on Ice's all-new ice extravaganza as Frozen opens at the Bridgestone Arena by getting Disney On Ice Frozen Nashville Tn Tickets which are currently being sold on our website. To buy the tickets, please go to the event page and follow the instructions.
Q:What is the last date to buy 2020 Disney On Ice Frozen Nashville Tickets?
A:The Disney On Ice Frozen Nashville Tn Tickets are being sold on first come first serve basis so there is no last date as such for you to buy tickets on. They will be available for as long as they are not sold-out before the event. We always recommend our customers to book their tickets as soon as possible so as to avoid any issues later on.
Q:What is the price of Disney On Ice Frozen Nashville Tickets?
A:Book your Disney On Ice Frozen Nashville Tn Tickets and watch your favorite cartoon characters come to life on an ice rink. We are offering tickets as part of different deals and prices so that you have the freedom to book them without going out of your budget. Log on to our website, make your way to the relevant page there and follow a few simple steps to book your tickets in just a matter of a few minutes.


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Last night, I had one of those perfect moments. I was supposed to be sauteing mushrooms, but I realized it was almost sunset, so I walked down to the beach with my camera, leaving Todd grilling steaks while the kids played frisbee. It was just me, the birds, the dolphins, and the ocean. Not another soul on the beach. I stayed as long as I could before complete darkness settled over the beach and I would not be able to make it back on the narrow path through the dunes.
As I was walking off the boardwalk towards the house, I saw Rollie walking towards me. Todd had sent him to get me and tell me that I needed to help with supper. Over dinner, Rollie asked what I was doing on the beach. Was I taking pictures with my camera? I told him I was mesmerized by the the waves and the dolphins.


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From the Westchase Artists Society's June monthly meeting our Artist of the Month is a new member, so this post will help all of us get to know Susan Hawley a little bit better. I hope you enjoy Susan's interview as much as we did! So without further delay...
Question: Tell us a little bit about yourself.
Susan: I grew up in Western New York as the daughter of a farmer and artist mom and one of 5 kids. Growing up on a farm and riding horses across the fields, I gained my love of the outdoors! I have been an extremely active person all my life - am a past professional white water river guide on the Sierra mountain rivers and have hiked and skiied throughout the Sierras and Lake Tahoe and Yosemite as well as the Teton mountains while living in Jackson, Wyoming (having skiied there over 80 days one year!). I have traveled to Europe and lived in Switzerland and then to Colomiba, South America and Mexico.
I am an entrepreneur at heart, creating Hawley Physical Thereapy in San Jose, CA and Lake Tahoe, CA. I have retired from P.T. and have recently moved to Tampa to be closer to my daughter and my 8 month old grandson. I presently own Spencer Morris Investments, LLC, a real estate investment company. I am a proud mom and now grandmom of 8 month old Xavier!
Question: What first made you want to become an artist:
Susan: In spite of loving art of all taypes, I never thought of being an artist myself - not sure why - perhaps I figured I couldn't. I watched my mom paint in oils and watercolors but never thought of painting myself. Then, one Fall day nearly 4 years ago, as I was recovering from a near fatal car accident, I went for a drive to see the Fall colors - wandering and wondering what I was going to do with my life. I was feeling quite lost and happened on a small village art shop and gallery. As I lamented to the owner, she suggested I take a watercolor class that coincidentally was to start the next week! Well... I started... and haven't looked back since!
Question: Describe your creative process.
Susan: Wow! Well, my "process" is ever evolving as I paint more. I love taking classes, going to demonstrations, and just pushing myself to continue to try new things. I find that since I came out of my accident somewhat like a phoenix and since I picked up a brush, I see the world with a different eye - a new eye that enjoys shapes and colors and movement!
I take photos galore, read art books but my favorite is painting outdoors - en plein aire! Sometimes I finish a painting in one sitting, sometimes it takes weeks.
Hey - I just remembered - I, once long ago, enjoyed photography using an SLR! I supposed I pull on these experiences and knowledge base for composition/shapes and color?
Question: Apart from creating art, what do you do?
Susan: - I spend as much time with my grandson as possible.
- I work in my company rehabbing homes and happily am in charge of the landscaping - which I love to design and create!
- I volunteer with groups like Foundation for a Drug-Free World, Youth for Human Rights International and Citizens Commission for Human Rights
Question: Favorite books, movies, websites, groups:
Susan: Books: Harry Potter and Twilight Series, historical novels, some Sci Fi; Movies: Harry Potter, The Devil Wears Prada, Disney; Websites: see above groups; groups: see above groups plus Niagra Frontier Watercolor Society and now- Westchase Artists Society!
Susan thank you so much for taking the time to go through our interview!!! We welcome you to our group of artists and are happy that you made the move to Tampa.
Stay tuned for next month's Artist of the Month interview. Until then, if you're interested in attending a Westchase Artists Society meeting, we meed the 4th Tuesday of the month. Our next meeting will be at the Westchase Swim and Tennis Center in the Community Room. Located just off Countryway Blvd. behind the fire station.


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In solidarity with the 16-day international campaign against violence against women, which is colored orange symbolized under the slogan "color of the world Orange", the Arab women Organization is launching the fourth phase of the A-B project on women's rights in Arab legislation, and the second edition of the regional analytical study of the project "Illuminating Signs in the Arab Judiciary" on December 3, 2017. The program of the seminar also includes theater performances by Arab teams on combating violence against women.
"The Arab Women Organization (AWO) attaches great importance to the issue of combating violence against women and has devoted one of its programs to addressing this issue through various tools, including regional strategies against women's community violence, as well as violence during armed conflict," said Ambassador Mervat Tallawy, AWO's Director-General. Tallawy added that these efforts also include the legal empowerment of women through Project A. B. Women's Rights in Arab Legislation, the fourth stage of this project is in the field of civil rights, and the project of women's human rights: bright signs in the judgments of the Arab judiciary.
The idea of the A-B project on women's rights in Arab legislation is to create an electronic database that includes a wide and flexible range of questions in specific legal areas, such as personal status and family law, labor laws and social security, political rights and other areas of questions in order to raise women's awareness and legal empowerment. The database responds to the questions raised in each field and in light of the prevailing laws in the Arab countries.
"Illuminating Signs in the Arab Judiciary" is to highlight the provisions and judicial decisions issued in the field of the protection of women's human rights in the Arab countries, which are provisions and judicial decisions that came from the premise of the rights of women and the principle of equality and non-discrimination against them. The first edition of the study Regional analysis of project results was issued in 2013.


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Location. The Best Western Branson Inn is located in Branson West, Mo. One quarter mile from Horseback Riding One half mile from Silver Dollar City Five miles from White Water Hotel Features. Complimentary breakfasts Complimentary wireless Internet access Indoor pool and children's pool Guestrooms. Cable television Complimentary wireless Internet access Balconies overlook surrounding woods
- High Speed Internet
Branson Hotels - Best Western Branson Inn
8514 State Highway 76Po Box 1059 Branson, MO 65737
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Monday, May 2, 2011
Russell Osgood Named Dean Finalist at San Diego
Tax Prof Russell K. Osgood, former President of Grinnell College (1998-2010) and former Dean of Cornell Law School (1988-98), is one of three finalists for the San Diego deanship. (The other finalists are Stephen Ferruolo, founding partner of Goodwin Proctor's San Diego office and a former Rhodes Scholar and Stanford history professor (1979-87); and Michael Waterstone, Associate Dean for Research and Academic Centers and J. Howard Ziemann Fellow and Professor of Law at Loyola-L.A.) Russell was a finalist this year in the dean searches at Boston College and Pepperdine. (Hat Tip: Faculty Lounge.)


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Style Analysis for Ruth
Style Advice for Ruth
I'm carrying on with my thoughts on Kate's advice.
Kate wrote:-
Body shapeNow this was interesting, because Kate is comparing shoulder and hip width, I don't come out as a pear shape which I would do if you compare bust and hip. So I think the analysis of semi-straight is actually quite helpful. As she's observed I gain weight all over so basically stay this shape. However I'm a few inches over the NHS recommended maximum waist size for women as this estimates the amount of hidden fat a person is storing around their organs so for health reasons it would be a good idea to try to lose some inches off the waist. Interestingly I shall still have a weight above the recommended BMI even when my waist is within the recommended range. However it is definitely worth doing and I'm planning to tackle my eating habits once the bulk of the KonMari process is over.
As Ruth notes above she has a definite curve at her lower back and a fullish derriere. But she has a fairly straight look from the front. So I think her body shape is semi-straight. Ruth's shoulders don't slope and have a squarish outline. However they are rounded forward, and her head is also set a little forward and this combined with a slight curve at the upper back makes her spine appear to have a definite S shape. Her lower back goes in – a classic "sway back". I would say that Ruth's shoulders are very slightly wider than her hips, which is pretty ideal, and makes her figure look balanced.
Ruth's has a shapely, but relatively modest, bust.
Women with a semi-straight silhouette tend to gain weight across all areas meaning it can be hard to disguise weight gain. Ruth is most concerned about having too much bulk at the waistline and plans to address this. Certainly the use of a belt or a tie in the hollow of the waist can make the slightly fuller tummy appear slimmer.
Ruth has a good, round bottom and longish legs that means she looks great in trousers. Trousers are probably her best look. They can be formal and tailored for work, jeans or casual styles for the weekends. Overall with the semi-straight silhouette Ruth should go for slightly fitted styles avoiding the extremes of either the straight or shaped figure. I will elaborate this in my next post.
Kate then continues
Face shapeOK I can see this. It might take a while for the fringe to grow out!
Ruth's face shape is fairly round with quite a lot of curves – for example her shaped lip line, and her cheeks and chin have a definite curve to them. This is not an angular face, although her jaw is squarish, but it is as wide as it is long. Consequently the longer, looser hair styles with a side parting are much more flattering than the pulled back look with a straight fringe.
ScaleI think I'm more the 16-18 end at the moment, but yes I already knew not to wear small prints or tiny detail as its just lost of a sturdy person like myself :-)
Ruth is a UK s14-16, and 5′ 5″ tall. So she will suit medium to large-scale patterns. She has already worked this out for herself, and as you can see from the pictures above, Ruth choses wider belts, larger prints and jewellery.
ProportionsOoh now I think there's a few interesting things in here, firstly I would not have considered myself to have long legs so this had me scratching my head a bit tbh. In the Jan Larkey method I come out as balanced, but Kate uses different measurements. I have had some success in the past with petite jackets with 3/4 sleeves (I may have a shorter upper body, but I don't have shorter arms).
In terms of proportions Ruth has nice long legs, with a relatively short upper body. When we choose clothes that make us appear to be "in proportion" we need to get the horizontals in the right place to help create a balanced figure. And in order to appear taller and slimmer we want to avoid the horizontal lines in our outfits cutting across our body at it's widest point.
Ruth often chooses a long jacket over a long skirt. While this look is OK for her proportions a longer top or jacket over a short skirt will be more flattering. The two looks she wants to avoid are a short top over a short skirt, or a short top over long skirt/trousers. For the same reason she should usually wear her tops out over her skirt or trousers, rather than tucked in at the waist.
I agree that we want to avoid the horizontal lines cutting across at the widest point. I thought I was already doing that, but maybe more tweaking is needed.
I wouldn't have considered that I was wearing long jackets over long skirts, I would have said moderate jackets with longer skirts, so obviously need to play a bit with proportions here. It can be difficult to shorten jackets though so have to see how this works out as I take the outfit photos (deep sigh).
DBF agrees with Kate on wearing tops untucked, as he has gently suggested it a few times, though for shirts and blouses and tailored bottoms with belt loops I don't think it looks right to wear anything else.
Heck this is tricky isn't it?