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Gerty Farish, the morning after the Wellington Brys' entertainment, woke from dreams as happy as Lily's. If they were less vivid in hue, more subdued to the half-tints of her personality and her experience, they were for that very reason better suited to her mental vision. Such flashes of joy as Lily moved in would have blinded Miss Farish, who was accustomed, in the way of happiness, to such scant light as shone through the cracks of other people's lives.
Now she was the centre of a little illumination of her own: a mild but unmistakable beam, compounded of Lawrence Selden's growing kindness to herself and the discovery that he extended his liking to Lily Bart. If these two factors seem incompatible to the student of feminine psychology, it must be remembered that Gerty had always been a parasite in the moral order, living on the crumbs of other tables, and content to look through the window at the banquet spread for her friends. Now that she was enjoying a little private feast of her own, it would have seemed incredibly selfish not to lay a plate for a friend; and there was no one with whom she would rather have shared her enjoyment than Miss Bart.
As to the nature of Selden's growing kindness, Gerty would no more have dared to define it than she would have tried to learn a butterfly's colours by knocking the dust from its wings. To seize on the wonder would be to brush off its bloom, and perhaps see it fade and stiffen in her hand: better the sense of beauty palpitating out of reach, while she held her breath and watched where it would alight. Yet Selden's manner at the Brys' had brought the flutter of wings so close that they seemed to be beating in her own heart. She had never seen him so alert, so responsive, so attentive to what she had to say. His habitual manner had an absent-minded kindliness which she accepted, and was grateful for, as the liveliest sentiment her presence was likely to inspire; but she was quick to feel in him a change implying that for once she could give pleasure as well as receive it.
And it was so delightful that this higher degree of sympathy should be reached through their interest in Lily Bart!
Gerty's affection for her friend--a sentiment that had learned to keep itself alive on the scantiest diet--had grown to active adoration since Lily's restless curiosity had drawn her into the circle of Miss Farish's work. Lily's taste of beneficence had wakened in her a momentary appetite for well-doing. Her visit to the Girls' Club had first brought her in contact with the dramatic contrasts of life. She had always accepted with philosophic calm the fact that such existences as hers were pedestalled on foundations of obscure humanity. The dreary limbo of dinginess lay all around and beneath that little illuminated circle in which life reached its finest efflorescence, as the mud and sleet of a winter night enclose a hot-house filled with tropical flowers. All this was in the natural order of things, and the orchid basking in its artificially created atmosphere could round the delicate curves of its petals undisturbed by the ice on the panes.
But it is one thing to live comfortably with the abstract conception of poverty, another to be brought in contact with its human embodiments. Lily had never conceived of these victims of fate otherwise than in the mass. That the mass was composed of individual lives, innumerable separate centres of sensation, with her own eager reachings for pleasure, her own fierce revulsions from pain--that some of these bundles of feeling were clothed in shapes not so unlike her own, with eyes meant to look on gladness, and young lips shaped for love--this discovery gave Lily one of those sudden shocks of pity that sometimes decentralize a life. Lily's nature was incapable of such renewal: she could feel other demands only through her own, and no pain was long vivid which did not press on an answering nerve. But for the moment she was drawn out of herself by the interest of her direct relation with a world so unlike her own. She had supplemented her first gift by personal assistance to one or two of Miss Farish's most appealing subjects, and the admiration and interest her presence excited among the tired workers at the club ministered in a new form to her insatiable desire to please.
Gerty Farish was not a close enough reader of character to disentangle the mixed threads of which Lily's philanthropy was woven. She supposed her beautiful friend to be actuated by the same motive as herself--that sharpening of the moral vision which makes all human suffering so near and insistent that the other aspects of life fade into remoteness. Gerty lived by such simple formulas that she did not hesitate to class her friend's state with the emotional "change of heart" to which her dealings with the poor had accustomed her; and she rejoiced in the thought that she had been the humble instrument of this renewal. Now she had an answer to all criticisms of Lily's conduct: as she had said, she knew "the real Lily," and the discovery that Selden shared her knowledge raised her placid acceptance of life to a dazzled sense of its possibilities--a sense farther enlarged, in the course of the afternoon, by the receipt of a telegram from Selden asking if he might dine with her that evening.
While Gerty was lost in the happy bustle which this announcement produced in her small household, Selden was at one with her in thinking with intensity of Lily Bart. The case which had called him to Albany was not complicated enough to absorb all his attention, and he had the professional faculty of keeping a part of his mind free when its services were not needed. This part--which at the moment seemed dangerously like the whole--was filled to the brim with the sensations of the previous evening. Selden understood the symptoms: he recognized the fact that he was paying up, as there had always been a chance of his having to pay up, for the voluntary exclusions of his past. He had meant to keep free from permanent ties, not from any poverty of feeling, but because, in a different way, he was, as much as Lily, the victim of his environment. There had been a germ of truth in his declaration to Gerty Farish that he had never wanted to marry a "nice" girl: the adjective connoting, in his cousin's vocabulary, certain utilitarian qualities which are apt to preclude the luxury of charm. Now it had been Selden's fate to have a charming mother: her graceful portrait, all smiles and Cashmere, still emitted a faded scent of the undefinable quality. His father was the kind of man who delights in a charming woman: who quotes her, stimulates her, and keeps her perennially charming. Neither one of the couple cared for money, but their disdain of it took the form of always spending a little more than was prudent. If their house was shabby, it was exquisitely kept; if there were good books on the shelves there were also good dishes on the table. Selden senior had an eye for a picture, his wife an understanding of old lace; and both were so conscious of restraint and discrimination in buying that they never quite knew how it was that the bills mounted up.
Though many of Selden's friends would have called his parents poor, he had grown up in an atmosphere where restricted means were felt only as a check on aimless profusion: where the few possessions were so good that their rarity gave them a merited relief, and abstinence was combined with elegance in a way exemplified by Mrs. Selden's knack of wearing her old velvet as if it were new. A man has the advantage of being delivered early from the home point of view, and before Selden left college he had learned that there are as many different ways of going without money as of spending it. Unfortunately, he found no way as agreeable as that practised at home; and his views of womankind in especial were tinged by the remembrance of the one woman who had given him his sense of "values." It was from her that he inherited his detachment from the sumptuary side of life: the stoic's carelessness of material things, combined with the Epicurean's pleasure in them. Life shorn of either feeling appeared to him a diminished thing; and nowhere was the blending of the two ingredients so essential as in the character of a pretty woman.
It had always seemed to Selden that experience offered a great deal besides the sentimental adventure, yet he could vividly conceive of a love which should broaden and deepen till it became the central fact of life. What he could not accept, in his own case, was the makeshift alternative of a relation that should be less than this: that should leave some portions of his nature unsatisfied, while it put an undue strain on others. He would not, in other words, yield to the growth of an affection which might appeal to pity yet leave the understanding untouched: sympathy should no more delude him than a trick of the eyes, the grace of helplessness than a curve of the cheek.
But now--that little BUT passed like a sponge over all his vows. His reasoned-out resistances seemed for the moment so much less important than the question as to when Lily would receive his note! He yielded himself to the charm of trivial preoccupations, wondering at what hour her reply would be sent, with what words it would begin. As to its import he had no doubt--he was as sure of her surrender as of his own. And so he had leisure to muse on all its exquisite details, as a hard worker, on a holiday morning, might lie still and watch the beam of light travel gradually across his room. But if the new light dazzled, it did not blind him. He could still discern the outline of facts, though his own relation to them had changed. He was no less conscious than before of what was said of Lily Bart, but he could separate the woman he knew from the vulgar estimate of her. His mind turned to Gerty Farish's words, and the wisdom of the world seemed a groping thing beside the insight of innocence. BLESSED ARE THE PURE IN HEART, FOR THEY SHALL SEE GOD--even the hidden god in their neighbour's breast! Selden was in the state of impassioned self-absorption that the first surrender to love produces. His craving was for the companionship of one whose point of view should justify his own, who should confirm, by deliberate observation, the truth to which his intuitions had leaped. He could not wait for the midday recess, but seized a moment's leisure in court to scribble his telegram to Gerty Farish.
Reaching town, he was driven direct to his club, where he hoped a note from Miss Bart might await him. But his box contained only a line of rapturous assent from Gerty, and he was turning away disappointed when he was hailed by a voice from the smoking room.
"Hallo, Lawrence! Dining here? Take a bite with me--I've ordered a canvas-back."
He discovered Trenor, in his day clothes, sitting, with a tall glass at his elbow, behind the folds of a sporting journal.
Selden thanked him, but pleaded an engagement.
"Hang it, I believe every man in town has an engagement tonight. I shall have the dub to myself. You know how I'm living this winter, rattling round in that empty house. My wife meant to come to town today, but she's put it off again, and how is a fellow to dine alone in a room with the looking-glasses covered, and nothing but a bottle of Harvey sauce on the side-board? I say, Lawrence, chuck your engagement and take pity on me--it gives me the blue devils to dine alone, and there's nobody but that canting ass Wetherall in the club."
"Sorry, Gus--I can't do it."
As Selden turned away, he noticed the dark flush on Trenor's face, the unpleasant moisture of his intensely white forehead, the way his jewelled rings were wedged in the creases of his fat red fingers. Certainly the beast was predominating--the beast at the bottom of the glass. And he had heard this man's name coupled with Lily's! Bah--the thought sickened him; all the way back to his rooms he was haunted by the sight of Trenor's fat creased hands---
On his table lay the note: Lily had sent it to his rooms. He knew what was in it before he broke the seal--a grey seal with BEYOND! beneath a flying ship. Ah, he would take her beyond--beyond the ugliness, the pettiness, the attrition and corrosion of the soul---
Gerty's little sitting-room sparkled with welcome when Selden entered it. Its modest "effects," compact of enamel paint and ingenuity, spoke to him in the language just then sweetest to his ear. It is surprising how little narrow walls and a low ceiling matter, when the roof of the soul has suddenly been raised. Gerty sparkled too; or at least shone with a tempered radiance. He had never before noticed that she had "points"--really, some good fellow might do worse . . . Over the little dinner (and here, again, the effects were wonderful) he told her she ought to marry--he was in a mood to pair off the whole world. She had made the caramel custard with her own hands? It was sinful to keep such gifts to herself. He reflected with a throb of pride that Lily could trim her own hats--she had told him so the day of their walk at Bellomont.
He did not speak of Lily till after dinner. During the little repast he kept the talk on his hostess, who, fluttered at being the centre of observation, shone as rosy as the candle-shades she had manufactured for the occasion. Selden evinced an extraordinary interest in her household arrangements: complimented her on the ingenuity with which she had utilized every inch of her small quarters, asked how her servant managed about afternoons out, learned that one may improvise delicious dinners in a chafing-dish, and uttered thoughtful generalizations on the burden of a large establishment.
When they were in the sitting-room again, where they fitted as snugly as bits in a puzzle, and she had brewed the coffee, and poured it into her grandmother's egg-shell cups, his eye, as he leaned back, basking in the warm fragrance, lighted on a recent photograph of Miss Bart, and the desired transition was effected without an effort. The photograph was well enough--but to catch her as she had looked last night! Gerty agreed with him--never had she been so radiant. But could photography capture that light? There had been a new look in her face--something different; yes, Selden agreed there had been something different. The coffee was so exquisite that he asked for a second cup: such a contrast to the watery stuff at the club! Ah, your poor bachelor with his impersonal club fare, alternating with the equally impersonal CUISINE of the dinner-party! A man who lived in lodgings missed the best part of life--he pictured the flavourless solitude of Trenor's repast, and felt a moment's compassion for the man . . . But to return to Lily--and again and again he returned, questioning, conjecturing, leading Gerty on, draining her inmost thoughts of their stored tenderness for her friend.
At first she poured herself out unstintingly, happy in this perfect communion of their sympathies. His understanding of Lily helped to confirm her own belief in her friend. They dwelt together on the fact that Lily had had no chance. Gerty instanced her generous impulses--her restlessness and discontent. The fact that her life had never satisfied her proved that she was made for better things. She might have married more than once--the conventional rich marriage which she had been taught to consider the sole end of existence--but when the opportunity came she had always shrunk from it. Percy Gryce, for instance, had been in love with her--every one at Bellomont had supposed them to be engaged, and her dismissal of him was thought inexplicable. This view of the Gryce incident chimed too well with Selden's mood not to be instantly adopted by him, with a flash of retrospective contempt for what had once seemed the obvious solution. If rejection there had been--and he wondered now that he had ever doubted it!--then he held the key to the secret, and the hillsides of Bellomont were lit up, not with sunset, but with dawn. It was he who had wavered and disowned the face of opportunity--and the joy now warming his breast might have been a familiar inmate if he had captured it in its first flight.
It was at this point, perhaps, that a joy just trying its wings in Gerty's heart dropped to earth and lay still. She sat facing Selden, repeating mechanically: "No, she has never been understood---" and all the while she herself seemed to be sitting in the centre of a great glare of comprehension. The little confidential room, where a moment ago their thoughts had touched elbows like their chairs, grew to unfriendly vastness, separating her from Selden by all the length of her new vision of the future--and that future stretched out interminably, with her lonely figure toiling down it, a mere speck on the solitude.
"She is herself with a few people only; and you are one of them," she heard Selden saying. And again: "Be good to her, Gerty, won't you?" and: "She has it in her to become whatever she is believed to be--you'll help her by believing the best of her?"
The words beat on Gerty's brain like the sound of a language which has seemed familiar at a distance, but on approaching is found to be unintelligible. He had come to talk to her of Lily--that was all! There had been a third at the feast she had spread for him, and that third had taken her own place. She tried to follow what he was saying, to cling to her own part in the talk--but it was all as meaningless as the boom of waves in a drowning head, and she felt, as the drowning may feel, that to sink would be nothing beside the pain of struggling to keep up.
Selden rose, and she drew a deep breath, feeling that soon she could yield to the blessed waves.
"Mrs. Fisher's? You say she was dining there? There's music afterward; I believe I had a card from her." He glanced at the foolish pink-faced clock that was drumming out this hideous hour. "A quarter past ten? I might look in there now; the Fisher evenings are amusing. I haven't kept you up too late, Gerty? You look tired--I've rambled on and bored you." And in the unwonted overflow of his feelings, he left a cousinly kiss upon her cheek.
At Mrs. Fisher's, through the cigar-smoke of the studio, a dozen voices greeted Selden. A song was pending as he entered, and he dropped into a seat near his hostess, his eyes roaming in search of Miss Bart. But she was not there, and the discovery gave him a pang out of all proportion to its seriousness; since the note in his breast-pocket assured him that at four the next day they would meet. To his impatience it seemed immeasurably long to wait, and half-ashamed of the impulse, he leaned to Mrs. Fisher to ask, as the music ceased, if Miss Bart had not dined with her.
"Lily? She's just gone. She had to run off, I forget where. Wasn't she wonderful last night?"
"Who's that? Lily?" asked Jack Stepney, from the depths of a neighbouring arm-chair. "Really, you know, I'm no prude, but when it comes to a girl standing there as if she was up at auction--I thought seriously of speaking to cousin Julia."
"You didn't know Jack had become our social censor?" Mrs. Fisher said to Selden with a laugh; and Stepney spluttered, amid the general derision: "But she's a cousin, hang it, and when a man's married--TOWN TALK was full of her this morning."
"Yes: lively reading that was," said Mr. Ned Van Alstyne, stroking his moustache to hide the smile behind it. "Buy the dirty sheet? No, of course not; some fellow showed it to me--but I'd heard the stories before. When a girl's as good-looking as that she'd better marry; then no questions are asked. In our imperfectly organized society there is no provision as yet for the young woman who claims the privileges of marriage without assuming its obligations."
"Well, I understand Lily is about to assume them in the shape of Mr. Rosedale," Mrs. Fisher said with a laugh.
"Rosedale--good heavens!" exclaimed Van Alstyne, dropping his eye-glass. "Stepney, that's your fault for foisting the brute on us."
"Oh, confound it, you know, we don't MARRY Rosedale in our family," Stepney languidly protested; but his wife, who sat in oppressive bridal finery at the other side of the room, quelled him with the judicial reflection: "In Lily's circumstances it's a mistake to have too high a standard."
"I hear even Rosedale has been scared by the talk lately," Mrs. Fisher rejoined; "but the sight of her last night sent him off his head. What do you think he said to me after her TABLEAU? 'My God, Mrs. Fisher, if I could get Paul Morpeth to paint her like that, the picture'd appreciate a hundred per cent in ten years.'"
"By Jove,--but isn't she about somewhere?" exclaimed Van Alstyne, restoring his glass with an uneasy glance.
"No; she ran off while you were all mixing the punch down stairs. Where was she going, by the way? What's on tonight? I hadn't heard of anything."
"Oh, not a party, I think," said an inexperienced young Farish who had arrived late. "I put her in her cab as I was coming in, and she gave the driver the Trenors' address."
"The Trenors'?" exclaimed Mrs. Jack Stepney. "Why, the house is closed--Judy telephoned me from Bellomont this evening."
"Did she? That's queer. I'm sure I'm not mistaken. Well, come now, Trenor's there, anyhow--I--oh, well--the fact is, I've no head for numbers," he broke off, admonished by the nudge of an adjoining foot, and the smile that circled the room.
In its unpleasant light Selden had risen and was shaking hands with his hostess. The air of the place stifled him, and he wondered why he had stayed in it so long.
On the doorstep he stood still, remembering a phrase of Lily's: "It seems to me you spend a good deal of time in the element you disapprove of."
Well--what had brought him there but the quest of her? It was her element, not his. But he would lift her out of it, take her beyond! That BEYOND! on her letter was like a cry for rescue. He knew that Perseus's task is not done when he has loosed Andromeda's chains, for her limbs are numb with bondage, and she cannot rise and walk, but clings to him with dragging arms as he beats back to land with his burden. Well, he had strength for both--it was her weakness which had put the strength in him. It was not, alas, a clean rush of waves they had to win through, but a clogging morass of old associations and habits, and for the moment its vapours were in his throat. But he would see clearer, breathe freer in her presence: she was at once the dead weight at his breast and the spar which should float them to safety. He smiled at the whirl of metaphor with which he was trying to build up a defence against the influences of the last hour. It was pitiable that he, who knew the mixed motives on which social judgments depend, should still feel himself so swayed by them. How could he lift Lily to a freer vision of life, if his own view of her was to be coloured by any mind in which he saw her reflected?
The moral oppression had produced a physical craving for air, and he strode on, opening his lungs to the reverberating coldness of the night. At the corner of Fifth Avenue Van Alstyne hailed him with an offer of company.
"Walking? A good thing to blow the smoke out of one's head. Now that women have taken to tobacco we live in a bath of nicotine. It would be a curious thing to study the effect of cigarettes on the relation of the sexes. Smoke is almost as great a solvent as divorce: both tend to obscure the moral issue."
Nothing could have been less consonant with Selden's mood than Van Alstyne's after-dinner aphorisms, but as long as the latter confined himself to generalities his listener's nerves were in control. Happily Van Alstyne prided himself on his summing up of social aspects, and with Selden for audience was eager to show the sureness of his touch. Mrs. Fisher lived in an East side street near the Park, and as the two men walked down Fifth Avenue the new architectural developments of that versatile thoroughfare invited Van Alstyne's comment.
"That Greiner house, now--a typical rung in the social ladder! The man who built it came from a MILIEU where all the dishes are put on the table at once. His facade is a complete architectural meal; if he had omitted a style his friends might have thought the money had given out. Not a bad purchase for Rosedale, though: attracts attention, and awes the Western sight-seer. By and bye he'll get out of that phase, and want something that the crowd will pass and the few pause before. Especially if he marries my clever cousin---"
Selden dashed in with the query: "And the Wellington Brys'? Rather clever of its kind, don't you think?"
They were just beneath the wide white facade, with its rich restraint of line, which suggested the clever corseting of a redundant figure.
"That's the next stage: the desire to imply that one has been to Europe, and has a standard. I'm sure Mrs. Bry thinks her house a copy of the TRIANON; in America every marble house with gilt furniture is thought to be a copy of the TRIANON. What a clever chap that architect is, though--how he takes his client's measure! He has put the whole of Mrs. Bry in his use of the composite order. Now for the Trenors, you remember, he chose the Corinthian: exuberant, but based on the best precedent. The Trenor house is one of his best things--doesn't look like a banqueting-hall turned inside out. I hear Mrs. Trenor wants to build out a new ball-room, and that divergence from Gus on that point keeps her at Bellomont. The dimensions of the Brys' ball-room must rankle: you may be sure she knows 'em as well as if she'd been there last night with a yard-measure. Who said she was in town, by the way? That Farish boy? She isn't, I know; Mrs. Stepney was right; the house is dark, you see: I suppose Gus lives in the back."
He had halted opposite the Trenors' corner, and Selden perforce stayed his steps also. The house loomed obscure and uninhabited; only an oblong gleam above the door spoke of provisional occupancy.
"They've bought the house at the back: it gives them a hundred and fifty feet in the side street. There's where the ball-room's to be, with a gallery connecting it: billiard-room and so on above. I suggested changing the entrance, and carrying the drawing-room across the whole Fifth Avenue front; you see the front door corresponds with the windows---"
The walking-stick which Van Alstyne swung in demonstration dropped to a startled "Hallo!" as the door opened and two figures were seen silhouetted against the hall-light. At the same moment a hansom halted at the curb-stone, and one of the figures floated down to it in a haze of evening draperies; while the other, black and bulky, remained persistently projected against the light.
For an immeasurable second the two spectators of the incident were silent; then the house-door closed, the hansom rolled off, and the whole scene slipped by as if with the turn of a stereopticon.
Van Alstyne dropped his eye-glass with a low whistle.
"A--hem--nothing of this, eh, Selden? As one of the family, I know I may count on you--appearances are deceptive--and Fifth Avenue is so imperfectly lighted---"
"Goodnight," said Selden, turning sharply down the side street without seeing the other's extended hand.
Alone with her cousin's kiss, Gerty stared upon her thoughts. He had kissed her before--but not with another woman on his lips. If he had spared her that she could have drowned quietly, welcoming the dark flood as it submerged her. But now the flood was shot through with glory, and it was harder to drown at sunrise than in darkness. Gerty hid her face from the light, but it pierced to the crannies of her soul. She had been so contented, life had seemed so simple and sufficient--why had he come to trouble her with new hopes? And Lily--Lily, her best friend! Woman-like, she accused the woman. Perhaps, had it not been for Lily, her fond imagining might have become truth. Selden had always liked her--had understood and sympathized with the modest independence of her life. He, who had the reputation of weighing all things in the nice balance of fastidious perceptions, had been uncritical and simple in his view of her: his cleverness had never overawed her because she had felt at home in his heart. And now she was thrust out, and the door barred against her by Lily's hand! Lily, for whose admission there she herself had pleaded! The situation was lighted up by a dreary flash of irony. She knew Selden--she saw how the force of her faith in Lily must have helped to dispel his hesitations. She remembered, too, how Lily had talked of him--she saw herself bringing the two together, making them known to each other. On Selden's part, no doubt, the wound inflicted was inconscient; he had never guessed her foolish secret; but Lily--Lily must have known! When, in such matters, are a woman's perceptions at fault? And if she knew, then she had deliberately despoiled her friend, and in mere wantonness of power, since, even to Gerty's suddenly flaming jealousy, it seemed incredible that Lily should wish to be Selden's wife. Lily might be incapable of marrying for money, but she was equally incapable of living without it, and Selden's eager investigations into the small economies of house-keeping made him appear to Gerty as tragically duped as herself.
She remained long in her sitting-room, where the embers were crumbling to cold grey, and the lamp paled under its gay shade. Just beneath it stood the photograph of Lily Bart, looking out imperially on the cheap gimcracks, the cramped furniture of the little room. Could Selden picture her in such an interior? Gerty felt the poverty, the insignificance of her surroundings: she beheld her life as it must appear to Lily. And the cruelty of Lily's judgments smote upon her memory. She saw that she had dressed her idol with attributes of her own making. When had Lily ever really felt, or pitied, or understood? All she wanted was the taste of new experiences: she seemed like some cruel creature experimenting in a laboratory.
The pink-faced clock drummed out another hour, and Gerty rose with a start. She had an appointment early the next morning with a district visitor on the East side. She put out her lamp, covered the fire, and went into her bedroom to undress. In the little glass above her dressing-table she saw her face reflected against the shadows of the room, and tears blotted the reflection. What right had she to dream the dreams of loveliness? A dull face invited a dull fate. She cried quietly as she undressed, laying aside her clothes with her habitual precision, setting everything in order for the next day, when the old life must be taken up as though there had been no break in its routine. Her servant did not come till eight o'clock, and she prepared her own tea-tray and placed it beside the bed. Then she locked the door of the flat, extinguished her light and lay down. But on her bed sleep would not come, and she lay face to face with the fact that she hated Lily Bart. It closed with her in the darkness like some formless evil to be blindly grappled with. Reason, judgment, renunciation, all the sane daylight forces, were beaten back in the sharp struggle for self-preservation. She wanted happiness--wanted it as fiercely and unscrupulously as Lily did, but without Lily's power of obtaining it. And in her conscious impotence she lay shivering, and hated her friend---
A ring at the door-bell caught her to her feet. She struck a light and stood startled, listening. For a moment her heart beat incoherently, then she felt the sobering touch of fact, and remembered that such calls were not unknown in her charitable work. She flung on her dressing-gown to answer the summons, and unlocking her door, confronted the shining vision of Lily Bart.
Gerty's first movement was one of revulsion. She shrank back as though Lily's presence flashed too sudden a light upon her misery. Then she heard her name in a cry, had a glimpse of her friend's face, and felt herself caught and clung to.
"Lily--what is it?" she exclaimed.
Miss Bart released her, and stood breathing brokenly, like one who has gained shelter after a long flight.
"I was so cold--I couldn't go home. Have you a fire?"
Gerty's compassionate instincts, responding to the swift call of habit, swept aside all her reluctances. Lily was simply some one who needed help--for what reason, there was no time to pause and conjecture: disciplined sympathy checked the wonder on Gerty's lips, and made her draw her friend silently into the sitting-room and seat her by the darkened hearth.
"There is kindling wood here: the fire will burn in a minute."
She knelt down, and the flame leapt under her rapid hands. It flashed strangely through the tears which still blurred her eyes, and smote on the white ruin of Lily's face. The girls looked at each other in silence; then Lily repeated: "I couldn't go home."
"No--no--you came here, dear! You're cold and tired--sit quiet, and I'll make you some tea."
Gerty had unconsciously adopted the soothing note of her trade: all personal feeling was merged in the sense of ministry, and experience had taught her that the bleeding must be stayed before the wound is probed.
Lily sat quiet, leaning to the fire: the clatter of cups behind her soothed her as familiar noises hush a child whom silence has kept wakeful. But when Gerty stood at her side with the tea she pushed it away, and turned an estranged eye on the familiar room.
"I came here because I couldn't bear to be alone," she said.
Gerty set down the cup and knelt beside her.
"Lily! Something has happened--can't you tell me?"
"I couldn't bear to lie awake in my room till morning. I hate my room at Aunt Julia's--so I came here---"
She stirred suddenly, broke from her apathy, and dung to Gerty in a fresh burst of fear.
"Oh, Gerty, the furies . . . you know the noise of their wings--alone, at night, in the dark? But you don't know--there is nothing to make the dark dreadful to you---"
The words, flashing back on Gerty's last hours, struck from her a faint derisive murmur; but Lily, in the blaze of her own misery, was blinded to everything outside it.
"You'll let me stay? I shan't mind when daylight comes--Is it late? Is the night nearly over? It must be awful to be sleepless--everything stands by the bed and stares---"
Miss Farish caught her straying hands. "Lily, look at me! Something has happened--an accident? You have been frightened--what has frightened you? Tell me if you can--a word or two--so that I can help you."
Lily shook her head.
"I am not frightened: that's not the word. Can you imagine looking into your glass some morning and seeing a disfigurement--some hideous change that has come to you while you slept? Well, I seem to myself like that--I can't bear to see myself in my own thoughts--I hate ugliness, you know--I've always turned from it--but I can't explain to you--you wouldn't understand."
She lifted her head and her eyes fell on the clock.
"How long the night is! And I know I shan't sleep tomorrow. Some one told me my father used to lie sleepless and think of horrors. And he was not wicked, only unfortunate--and I see now how he must have suffered, lying alone with his thoughts! But I am bad--a bad girl--all my thoughts are bad--I have always had bad people about me. Is that any excuse? I thought I could manage my own life--I was proud--proud! but now I'm on their level---"
Sobs shook her, and she bowed to them like a tree in a dry storm.
Gerty knelt beside her, waiting, with the patience born of experience, till this gust of misery should loosen fresh speech. She had first imagined some physical shock, some peril of the crowded streets, since Lily was presumably on her way home from Carry Fisher's; but she now saw that other nerve-centres were smitten, and her mind trembled back from conjecture.
Lily's sobs ceased, and she lifted her head.
"There are bad girls in your slums. Tell me--do they ever pick themselves up? Ever forget, and feel as they did before?"
"Lily! you mustn't speak so--you're dreaming."
"Don't they always go from bad to worse? There's no turning back--your old self rejects you, and shuts you out."
She rose, stretching her arms as if in utter physical weariness. "Go to bed, dear! You work hard and get up early. I'll watch here by the fire, and you'll leave the light, and your door open. All I want is to feel that you are near me." She laid both hands on Gerty's shoulders, with a smile that was like sunrise on a sea strewn with wreckage.
"I can't leave you, Lily. Come and lie on my bed. Your hands are frozen--you must undress and be made warm." Gerty paused with sudden compunction. "But Mrs. Peniston--it's past midnight! What will she think?"
"She goes to bed. I have a latch-key. It doesn't matter--I can't go back there."
"There's no need to: you shall stay here. But you must tell me where you have been. Listen, Lily--it will help you to speak!" She regained Miss Bart's hands, and pressed them against her. "Try to tell me--it will clear your poor head. Listen--you were dining at Carry Fisher's." Gerty paused and added with a flash of heroism: "Lawrence Selden went from here to find you."
At the word, Lily's face melted from locked anguish to the open misery of a child. Her lips trembled and her gaze widened with tears.
"He went to find me? And I missed him! Oh, Gerty, he tried to help me. He told me--he warned me long ago--he foresaw that I should grow hateful to myself!"
The name, as Gerty saw with a clutch at the heart, had loosened the springs of self-pity in her friend's dry breast, and tear by tear Lily poured out the measure of her anguish. She had dropped sideways in Gerty's big arm-chair, her head buried where lately Selden's had leaned, in a beauty of abandonment that drove home to Gerty's aching senses the inevitableness of her own defeat. Ah, it needed no deliberate purpose on Lily's part to rob her of her dream! To look on that prone loveliness was to see in it a natural force, to recognize that love and power belong to such as Lily, as renunciation and service are the lot of those they despoil. But if Selden's infatuation seemed a fatal necessity, the effect that his name produced shook Gerty's steadfastness with a last pang. Men pass through such superhuman loves and outlive them: they are the probation subduing the heart to human joys. How gladly Gerty would have welcomed the ministry of healing: how willingly have soothed the sufferer back to tolerance of life! But Lily's self-betrayal took this last hope from her. The mortal maid on the shore is helpless against the siren who loves her prey: such victims are floated back dead from their adventure.
Lily sprang up and caught her with strong hands. "Gerty, you know him--you understand him--tell me; if I went to him, if I told him everything--if I said: 'I am bad through and through--I want admiration, I want excitement, I want money--' yes, MONEY! That's my shame, Gerty--and it's known, it's said of me--it's what men think of me--If I said it all to him--told him the whole story--said plainly: 'I've sunk lower than the lowest, for I've taken what they take, and not paid as they pay'--oh, Gerty, you know him, you can speak for him: if I told him everything would he loathe me? Or would he pity me, and understand me, and save me from loathing myself?"
Gerty stood cold and passive. She knew the hour of her probation had come, and her poor heart beat wildly against its destiny. As a dark river sweeps by under a lightning flash, she saw her chance of happiness surge past under a flash of temptation. What prevented her from saying: "He is like other men?" She was not so sure of him, after all! But to do so would have been like blaspheming her love. She could not put him before herself in any light but the noblest: she must trust him to the height of her own passion.
"Yes: I know him; he will help you," she said; and in a moment Lily's passion was weeping itself out against her breast.
There was but one bed in the little flat, and the two girls lay down on it side by side when Gerty had unlaced Lily's dress and persuaded her to put her lips to the warm tea. The light extinguished, they lay still in the darkness, Gerty shrinking to the outer edge of the narrow couch to avoid contact with her bed-fellow. Knowing that Lily disliked to be caressed, she had long ago learned to check her demonstrative impulses toward her friend. But tonight every fibre in her body shrank from Lily's nearness: it was torture to listen to her breathing, and feel the sheet stir with it. As Lily turned, and settled to completer rest, a strand of her hair swept Gerty's cheek with its fragrance. Everything about her was warm and soft and scented: even the stains of her grief became her as rain-drops do the beaten rose. But as Gerty lay with arms drawn down her side, in the motionless narrowness of an effigy, she felt a stir of sobs from the breathing warmth beside her, and Lily flung out her hand, groped for her friend's, and held it fast.
"Hold me, Gerty, hold me, or I shall think of things," she moaned; and Gerty silently slipped an arm under her, pillowing her head in its hollow as a mother makes a nest for a tossing child. In the warm hollow Lily lay still and her breathing grew low and regular. Her hand still dung to Gerty's as if to ward off evil dreams, but the hold of her fingers relaxed, her head sank deeper into its shelter, and Gerty felt that she slept.
Return to the The House of Mirth Summary Return to the Edith Wharton Library


text:
A kayaker joined police and fire rescuers to help them save a dog trapped on ice floes in Lake Michigan last Friday.
The Chicago Tribune reports that the dog was spotted a half-mile away from shore. Warmer temperatures that day had cause ice to break apart, and the dog that had run away from home nine days before ending up trapped on floating ice.
After a helicopter arrived to verify that it was in fact a dog and not a coyote, a Chicago Fire Department boat joined the rescue attempt. As a diver prepared to enter the icy water, a man in a kayak paddled through ice chunks to help.
Dave Kehnast had spotted the stranded dog from his apartment. Kehnast told WLS-TV:
"I saw him way out there and so I grabbed the kayak over here, and I know that the lake is only a couple of feet deep all the way out to where the ice shelf ends. So I knew I'd be fine."
The frightened dog tried to bite Kehnast when he got out of the kayak to help the him up onto the ice, but the kayaker just kept verbally encouraging the dog that every thing would be okay as they floated towards safety.
As the ice got close enough, the dog jumped in the water and swam to the shore. He then bolted through the streets of Chicago. City workers eventually corralled the dog in an alley where he was captured and then taken to a shelter.
The dog named Pifas is a Nova Scotia Duck Tolling Retriever and had been missing for 9 days. Nerijus Steponavicius, the dog's human, explained that Pifas escaped when his landlord had the apartment door opened to change the locks.
Pifas was found to be healthy and free of injury, but Steponavicius wasn't immediately allowed to take him home. City law required Pifas to be neutered before Animal Care and Control could release him.
Steponavicius told reporters he would like to treat the kayaker to dinner to thank him for saving his dog.

subset: commoncrawl


text:
It could be!
It is now obvious that at least google indexes posts within minutes.
results appear in search engine results within 15 minutes - I checked many times and it is true.
So, in the same way, it is very much possible that google "drops" or "disqualifies" posts within hours or days after being posted.
Blog audiences are usually looking for fresh content, so the idea is to give ahigher score to fresh content and let it drop in ranking results as time goes by.
That's a theory and it could definitely be true!
To check further though...
Another theory is that new posts are initially boosted because they are fresh.
After hours or days, their ranking goes back to normal.
They are still there but less people will find them.
One last theory is that new content is initiatlly boosted to see if the audience picks it up and starts posting and linking to it.
If after a few days, the post is not being "promoted" through linking or internet buzz, then it slowly drops back to normal
What does it mean? It means that there are many valid reasons why a blog post value would initially be boosted before letting it go back to its normal ranking.
In the search engine algorythm, I can imagine that the freshness of the post is a key factor!
makes total sense when you think of it


text:
- Home
- Accessories/Toys
- Accessories
- Drinkwell® Avalon Fountain (Continental US Only)
Product Description
Continental US orders only, please.
Beauty, style, and great function all in one. Cats naturally have a low thirst drive and can become dehydrated quite easily. Often, they don't like to drink water that's been standing in their dish for any length of time. This cat water fountain is the answer. It keeps filtered water moving, keeping it fresh. If your cat likes to drink water from your bathroom faucet or drinking the water puddles in the shower after you're out, this is the answer. Click "Product Videos" below for more information on the Avalon.
Product Benefits:
- Beautiful white ceramic
- Filters and aerates continuously; keeps water tasting fresh
- Holds 70 ounces of water
- Dishwasher safe (except for the pump)
- Constant water movement inhibits bacterial growth
- Carbon filter removes tastes and odors that cats may find objectionable
- Your kitty has a choice of drinking from the upper or lower dishes or from the falling water streams
Appropriate water consumption can decrease the incidence of lower urinary tract and kidney problems in cats.Click "Product Videos" below for more information on the Avalon.
Product Videos
PetSafe® Befor...


text:
I don't know a lot about everything, but I do know a lot about the part of everything that I know, which is people.
Saturday, December 15, 2007
Stupid Nevada Drivers
Among the things I love about living in Northern California is the traffic. Not that I enjoy traffic jams, but it's amazing, after living in driving hell for so long, how a traffic jam really works. In Sacramento, the freeways get jammed because there is a lot of traffic. There are tens of thousands of people trying to get to or from work, all in a relatively small window of time.
In Reno, though, traffic would jam because two cars were trying to get on the freeway. See, Nevada drivers do not know the term, "merge." They have heard this word, and believe it means, "Turn your signal on and wait five minutes to get into the next lane," or, "When you see someone put their turn signal on, speed up just enough so they can't get in front of you…or behind you."
It doesn't help that the intersection between the two freeways, affectionately referred to as the "Spaghetti Bowl," was fashioned to allow 10 cars to be on it at a time, regardless of the direction you are heading. Cram any more than that, and it's an automatic jam. Add to that the constant construction (as long as we lived there, I have never been on the freeway and not had a lane closed or a slower speed limit due to construction. I was going on 9 years prior to moving here) and you have traffic.
Then you have the California drivers. See, California drivers know how to drive. (While this may not be applicable to places such as LA or San Francisco, most California drivers drive well.) They may speed and they may refrain from using their signals. Heck, they may even cut in front of you. But here, it is expected. It is done to you, because it is a well-known fact that you're going to do it right back to them at some point in your life. This, though seemingly chaotic, is a good thing. It keeps traffic flowing nicely. You drive, expecting that the driver next to you will cram into that small spot in front of you. But they do it nicely. You let them in, because they will let you in when you "cut" in front of them two miles down the road. See? It's not cutting. It is etiquette.
In Nevada, drivers try to mimic this. They, however, do not really know how it's done, having been surrounded with other NV drivers for so long. They add this to the supposed "merging" and cause accidents, which slows down traffic even more (if that's even possible.)
The list goes on and on with bad driving techniques I've witnessed while living in Reno, but, thus far, I've only seen two problems with California drivers. The first is the rubbernecking. A California driver is literally unable to pass by an accident (or even a police car having pulled someone over) without examining it on their own. They have to be sure everything is being handled correctly, which, of course, slows traffic down. Luckily, the number of freeway accidents is small comparatively, unless it's a weekend when all the Reno-ites come to town.
The other problem is the Acuras. I first started noticing this phenomenon years ago, when I would travel to Southern California on road trips. Since then, I've been counting. Statistically speaking 2.5/3 California Acura drivers mean bad news. They drive like they are alone on the freeway. I'm not sure why this is, but I would be interested to find out what insurance rates are on California Acuras compared to any other vehicle. I'd bet the results would be surprising.
Of all the stupid moves I've seen from drivers around the Sac area, 98% of them have either been Acuras or Nevada drivers. Need I say more?
Friday, October 5, 2007
i'm in love
The weather.
Today is supposed to be a high of 60 with scattered showers. Now some may already know what this means, but for those of you who are lost, read on.
This morning, when making the all-important-what-should-I-wear-today decision (which can be an extra hard one, because today is dress-down day at work, and I ALWAYS wear my comfy jeans on Fridays) I decided to pull out my box of sweaters. I know it may be a bit early, but I figure, it's snowed in the pass already so what the heck. I may as well.
So I grabbed my favorite sweater ever. You know, the one you pull on and instantly feel warm and cozy. I was slightly afraid that it may not fit right, that it wouldn't be as soft, or that it would just feel funny...but no. It was (and is) perfection. It is amazing how a sweater (or any other favorite piece of clothing, for that matter) can just make you feel good.
There's nothing really extraordinary about this sweater. It's black, soft, and has a little (tiny) red deer or something near the top right. (It's from Old Navy, so that may be their symbol or something.) But it's so comfortable.
I've decided that I may even be intrepid enough to pull out my tall boots and wear 'em to work.
Today is going to be a good day.
Saturday, September 29, 2007
Last night, Ben and I watched Final Fantasy, The Spirits Within. While the movie was ok at best (It was better than I thought it would be, but it will never make my top 10 list...) The special features, though, made the whole hour and 46 minutes worth watching. If you didn't know, the movie is done with 3-D animation in order to look very similar to the video games. There is a special feature in which a short film was created in order to test the movement abilities of the animated characters. In short, they created the Thriller video all over again, using the cast of the movie. It was fricken' hilarious. The facial features, the hands, oh my goodness. I laughed, I cried, I watched it again. This will definitely be one of those amusing memories that will stay with me for quite a while.
And so, my dear friends, I began thinking about wonderful music videos that I have loved in the past. Videos that have also given me wonderful memories -- though not necessarily in the same way this one did. (All of these are ranging from childhood to around high school era-they are the videos that stuck with me even 'till now.)
NOTE: I was originally going to do 10, but being as indecisive as you know I am, I couldn' narrow it down without feeling bad that some of the others didn't make it. So the list is 20-something videos long.
22. Love is a Battlefield by Pat Benatar.
For the same reason as Thriller, which will be named later, this video rocks! The dance sequence is awesome.
21. Call Me Al by Paul Simon.
So you're sitting there, watching this video, thinking that Paul Simon is just going to sit there while Chevy Chase sings his song. But wait, there's a penny whistle solo and some groovy grapevining to come!
20. "Can't Stop" by The Red Hot Chili Peppers.
This video is so pleasing to the eye. There are so many different things going on, so many abstracts, so many bright and vibrant colors, and the song is pretty catchy.
19. Buddy Holly by Weezer.
This is just a classic. Most of the video's footage is actually from the original Happy Days show, and the portions that aren't are flawlessly added in. It's so dorky and happy and just plain wonderful!
18. "Thriller" by Michael Jackson.
I actually posted the link to the Final Fantasy version that I was talking about earlier. You've all seen the original and understand its wonderfulness. Watch this one 'till the end; there's a part where they all make weird faces, and it's to die for.
17. "Like a Prayer" by Madonna.
This was one of my favorite songs when I was younger, and remains one of my faves now. I love the Madonna-before-she-tried-to-hard-to-stay-young-and-hip music she did. This video, as controversial as it was, is simply beautiful.
16. "Don't Come Around Here No More" by Tom Petty.
I LOVE Tom Petty. I've never heard a song by him that I haven't loved. Several of his videos would have made it on this list if it weren't for all the other worthy competitors. I love this one though. Based on Alice in Wonderland, this video is creepy, comical, and just all-around-Tom-Pettyish. I especially love the part where he cuts the "Alice cake."
15. "1979" by Smashing Pumpkins.
This is one of the quintessential teenage-angst-and-fun videos. It shows various activities teens took action in, from serious to fun. They ranged from spinning donuts in a car, the teenage party scene and the accompanying drama, bowling with soda bottles, and the stupid mistakes teens often make. It's a video that tells a story of what it means to be young and "invincible."
14. "Runaway" by Janet Jackson.
Ok, you may laugh at me, but I LOVED this video when I was a kid. The places she visited, the people she met. Truly amazing and fun and beautiful. And as with most Jackson videos, the choreography was awesome.
13. "Deadweight" by Beck.
First of all, this song is one of those that will stay in your head, in a good way, for days and days after hearing it. The video is simple and complex at the same time. As with most Michel Gondry videos (who, by the way, wrote the movie Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, which is one of the best movies ever made) is wonderfully created, and tells a complicated, ironic, and beautiful story.
12. "Sabotage" by the Beastie Boys. This video is just plain funny. The Beastie Boys, who are extremely reminiscent of Starsky and Hutch, are just a crack-up in what I would call one of the most amusing videos out there.
11. "Natural Blues" by Moby. This video always captivates me. It's got to be one of the best animated videos in creation (I say ONE of the best, because of my number 3 choice.) It's a happy yet melancholy video, where the character sets out on a journey with his trusty dog. He meets many strange and interesting creatures along the way...and you can watch it to see what happens.
10. "Losing My Religion" by REM.
This video is beautiful, surreal, and perfect. The lighting and displays are in-keeping with the tone of the song, the shadowing is amazing, and the band's movements are mesmerizing.
9. "Redundant" by Greenday.
If you haven't seen this one, you need to. It's another story-teller with a simple storyline. While the band is talking about the redundancy of life, the video is showing it.
8. "I've Got My Mind Set on You" by George Harrison.
This was my favorite video of all time when I was about 10. The singing and dancing animals ALWAYS got me watching this video over and over. I thought that when I watched it again, after all these years, it would be lame and ridiculous, but I loved it just as much as I did when I was younger. I had forgotten about Harrison's dance sequence and the chipmunk's pipe/sax solo, and I nearly cried I laughed so hard.
7. "Sledgehammer" by Peter Gabriel.
This was one of those just-plain-weird videos that always had so much going on, that you couldn't help but love it. The claymation and animation in this video are awesome. Luckily, when I was a kid, I had no idea what this song was really about, so it's funny to watch the video again, noticing the obviousness.
6. "We Didn't Start the Fire" by Billy Joel.
First off, how can you not love those sunglasses? This video, with all its political innuendos, is amazing with all the different scenes, environments, and people you meet. It really portrays how the times have changed.
5. "Virtual Insanity" by Jamiroquai.
The dance moves are groovy, the illusions are awesome, the song is brilliant.
4. "Everlong" by The Foo Fighters.
Another Michel Gondry video, this one is comical and serious at its core. Dwelling on a couple asleep in bed and the dreams they have, we encounter many of the things we tend to dream about. The video focuses on the way that these strange, unreal elements seem almost normal when you're dreaming. Plus, the main character has home-made nunchucks.
3. "Take on Me" by A-Ha.
Watch the video, and you'll see how revolutionary it was. It was the first semi-animated music video in creation. (Second was Dire Straits' Money for Nothing, which is another classic). It took on the music video world by storm, winning several awards in the 1986 MTV Music Awards. (It, unfortunately, lost Best Video of the Year to Dire Straits.)
2 "Estranged" by Guns'n'Roses.
This is the third video in a trilogy based on the short story "Without You" by Axl Rose's friend, Del James. It's a simply beautiful song and video. While it IS 10 minutes long, the last 2 minutes really make the video.
1. "Weapon of Choice" by Fatboy Slim.
Some may laugh that this made it to my number 1. It's a ridiculous song and a silly video. BUT LET ME DEFEND MYSELF! Any video that feature Christopher Walken dancing around (and even flying) is a fine video by my standards. Watch it; I'm sure you'll agree.
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
what do you think?
Saturday, September 22, 2007
the darndest things
Kids are too funny. I was tidying up my classroom last week and found a page-long love note from one of my kids to another. It was talking about how he was the love of her life, and how he was "lame for not realizing" that they were meant to be together. This, from the girl who, when given 15 minutes every morning to write a journal topic, will have, at best, a sentence or two written.
And then you get notes like this.
Oh, the silliness.
Saturday, September 15, 2007
fall has come again
Yes, I know, two blogs in one day, what was I thinking? But I discovered something important, so, here we go.
So it's ALMOST apparently, officially, fall. It happens next week, though I wasn't aware of it until today. I have been awaiting fall for so long, and wondering why it hasn't yet come (summer decided to drag on FOREVER this year) so I went on a search to figure out when it was supposed to come.
It makes sense that it really is coming though, and making quite the debut at that. I meant to write about it when it happened, but, alas, the ever-busy weekdays strike, and I only seem to find the time to write on the weekends. On Wednesday, I awoke to find clouds in the sky. Yes, clouds. A phenomenon I don't believe we've seen since last winter. I shook off the excitement, figuring that, as has happened many a time before, the clouds would leave and the hot summer sun would reappear later that day. The sky was smiling down on me, though, and it actually stayed around 75 degrees ALL DAY. It was the most heavenly day I've experienced in a while.
I love fall. It's the perfect season. The leaves become the most beautiful colors you've ever seen. You can wear a jackets and hats, and won't look silly, yet you can still wear summery clothes and not freeze. AND, now I get to pull out all my fall clothes. You know, the earth tone-ish outfits and the tall, leather boots you can't get away with wearing any other time of the year. With fall clothing being the best clothing, one can only wish it would be fall for a greater time of the year.
I know I do.
Bring it on.
tales from the kitchen, part 1
While waiting expectantly for the dough to rise (this phenomenon is even more boring than trying to watch grass grow) I attempted to clean up my mess. Once the dough finally rose to its peak, I took it out of the fridge, only to realize that I do not possess the quintessential rolling pin. Why, oh why?
FYI, though, a can of refried beans will work nearly as well. It might not be as long as a rolling pin, and it might leave weird indentations in your dough, but it's easily accessible and multi-functional as well.)
All in all, it was the most scrumptious of the messy dinners I think I've ever made. It dripped with homemade pasta sauce and yummy toppings like Italian sausage, pepperoni, Canadian bacon, and black olives. I'm getting hungry again just thinking about it. Good thing I made enough for leftovers!
Sunday, August 26, 2007
I have to say, though, that it's been crazy in a good way. I've made it through my first two weeks teaching and it's been simply amazing. To finally have my own classroom, full of what my prior employer referred to as "empty minds to fill," is just the most amazing thing I could have imagined.
Though I've got some tough kids in my class, I've really come to be attached to them...already. I see kids who have had really bad experiences in school, because they aren't quite up to par with where they should be. But what I really see is kids who need another chance. Another chance to shine, to get the answer right, to feel smart and safe and special. I see a classroom full of minds that, while not being empty, are ready to be filled with much more than they could imagine.
It's an interesting phenomenon to be teaching 5th grade. They are at the top of their school. Next year, they go on to that strange new world that is Jr. High, where things will be so different. They will go to different teachers for each subject. They will be called to a higher sense of responsibility. They won't get the second and third and fourth chances they are given in my class. They will go through social changes, family changes, and hormonal changes. Looking at each of them now, they are so unprepared for that world.
Hopefully in 9 months, though, they will face it with confidence, intelligence, and responsibility. Afterall, that's my job.
Thursday, July 19, 2007
testing, 1..2..3..
I guess it's these times that really test your integrity and faith, huh? I hope this is a test I can look back and say I passed with flying colors.
Saturday, June 9, 2007
mothers aren't supposed to feel pain
This isn't supposed to happen, especially to mothers. It's a sad occasion to hear that someone is ill or has been hospitalized, but when I found out it was my mom, I couldn't believe it. All I could think about was how she was not allowed to hurt. When I told her this, she replied sarcastically with, "Oh, I guess I missed that memo." She's doing her best to take this in stride, while I (not the one who is sick) is worrying and fussing about the whole thing. She is more worried about my worry than she is about herself.
That's the thing about good mothers. They care more deeply about their "babies" than they do about themselves.
And there's something about our mothers, that, while we may not always agree with them, it hurts more than anything to see them in pain.
Do me a favor, tell your mother you love her.
Saturday, May 19, 2007
a mile in your shoes
Her faithful flip flops . They had cost less than any other pair of shoes she owned, yet they had seen and done more than all the others combined. Faded and worn, these shoes had seen the beaches of the Caribbean, the sands of Lake Tahoe, and the beach-front sidewalks of southern California. They had been with her through friendships, moves, and graduations. They were worn on the day she moved away from her hometown, when she saw her first ocean sunset, when she received her first kiss. Though her friends often made fun of her for keeping the old shoes, she felt a bond to them, as if they were the tie to her past, present, and future.
Monday, May 7, 2007
can a movie really change your life?
This movie has all the markers of a Crowe flick... an awesome soundtrack for starters. What is unexpected about this movie, though, is how funny it is. It deals with some heavy subject matter (death, suicide, failure) in a way that's fresh... and light. There are some scenes that had the audience crying, they were laughing so hard.It has many of the same American nostalgic qualities to it: that orange dusty tint to the American landscape that ultimately makes most people nostalgic for a home they've never had. The small town, where everyone knows your name (or in this case, your dad's name). Crowe introduced this movie saying that a lot of the scenes were from his memories of childhood and his family's eccentricities, which you definitely see. He completely succeeds in capturing the moments (often embarrassing) that families share... and outsiders never get to see."
The movie, in case you haven't already figured it out, is Elizabethtown. Since the first time I saw the movie poster advertising the movie, I had a strange sense of curiosity about this flick. I mean, it stars Orlando Bloom and Kirsten Dunst. Now, I've never been one of those girls who croon over the "hotness" of Orlando Bloom, and I never really saw much depth in his acting. (Don't throw the tomatoes yet, people!) In this movie, however, I was amazed at the intensity he brought to his character. Several times throughout the movie, the camera focuses in on his face. Without a single word or sound, with just facial expression, he was able to convey a vast number of emotions. I could actually feel the struggle of these conflicting thoughts and feelings as I watched his face. The first time it happened, Ben and I just looked at each other with surprised and amazed expressions on our faces. For that reason alone, I could have loved this movie. Of course, this was just the beginning. Kirsten Dunst plays the part of a neurotic girl who changes the life of Bloom's character. At first, she seems as annoying as the kid who followed you around on the playground at recess and wouldn't just let you be. By the end of the movie, though, I was actually rooting her on.
Another very important aspect of the movie is the soundtrack. Like in Forrest Gump or Almost Famous, the soundtrack makes the movie. This soundtrack did not disappoint. (I've been listening to it nonstop for the past three weeks and can't seem to get the songs out of my head, in a good way.) Needless to say (again), this is my favorite movie.
And, as a footnote, I did watch it the required three times, and I have to say that, each time, I enjoyed the movie even more.
Friday, April 13, 2007
nobody is as mysterious as they think they are
So the new neighbors upstairs moved in tonight. Yes, tonight. As in, it's 12:30 in the morning and they are still moving stuff. Shouldn't they have the common decency to wait until tomorrow to do this, at say, anytime after I've woken up? I mean, it's not like they started at 2 this afternoon and just had to get it all moved in. They didn't start until around 8 this evening.
There's just something about neighbors, especially in apartment complexes, that gets me. Maybe it's just because we've always had such interesting ones worthy of speculation and analyzing.
For instance, in the apartment complex we lived in prior to this one, we had a neighbor who smoked. Now, he didn't just smoke. He smoked. One could (and would) find him out on his porch smoking at 2 pm, 4 am, or just about any other time one decided to check the porch. Not only did he smoke, but he coughed. You know, the cough of one who has smoked for years. The cough that sounds more like a hack. Now, as a side note, if you know me at all, then you know I tend to make up nicknames for people. People I know or don't know generally have a nickname, and I often refer to them by their nicknames. This neighbor was affectionately called Hacking Man.
Hacking Man wasn't really a neighbor, as in, a person who shares a wall with you. His building was directly next to ours, though, with just a sidewalk between. Out my bedroom window, I could see him, standing on his porch, Budweiser in one hand and a cigarette in the other. Often he'd be talking to a friend on the phone (although most of the time, he merely spoke to himself or anyone else who happened to walk by). He'd talk about the weather or how annoyed he was that his wife "made him eat Pine-Sol again." He would say this any time his wife mopped the kitchen and "stank up the apartment." I honestly don't know if he had a job. He would talk about work, but when could he have had time to be employed with all of his hacking and smoking and inhalation of Pine-Sol? I rarely had the occasion of walking by when he wasn't on the porch. He often slept out there; I could hear him hack in his sleep through my window.
Then there was Suburban Man. He lived a few buildings down from the roommate and I. We used to sit on our porch quite a bit, and whenever he would drive by in his ugly, gold Suburban, he'd leer at us. This was the rubber-necking, can't-see-where-you're-going-because-your-head-is-behind-your-neck type of leering. It got to be annoying, but we never thought much of it. Until the day that we were watching tv in our living room, and he drove by. He actually stared into the apartment, as if looking for us. We noticed that he did this several times a day, and occasionally, he would drive around the complex several times, so as to pass by our apartment. It wasn't scary, though, until we started seeing him at random places. Now, they were all legitimate places for him to be, but it was still creepy seeing that Suburban wherever we went. Luckily, he moved shortly after that, and we never heard from him again.
Saturday, April 7, 2007
worth coming home to
As I mentioned, things have been pretty crazy as of late. (As it always is. It's interesting how that always suffices as a "good answer" for when someone asks you how things are going. "Crazy," I say, and they nod their heads, knowing the craziness in their own lives. Why are we a society that can't seem to slow down and just...take a breather?)
We moved again. Actually we've moved two or three times since my last update. We're living in beautiful California now! I'm so excited to have left the drab brownness that is Reno to replace it with the fresh vibrance of green that is Northern California. We live (literally) RIGHT next to a beautiful lake, and less than two miles from another one. It's awesome, because, while the two lakes feed off of each other, they are completely different. One has the stereotypical atmosphere of a lake: calm, serene, and "room-temperature." This lake's temperature follows the weather, so in the summer it's nice and warm; it never gets too frosty to enjoy it. This lake has a laid-back personality to it. The other lake, however, flows like a river and has an aura of determination about it. It's always freezing, but it likes it that way. It dares to be different and it dares you, the enjoyer of lakes, to be different as well. Really, it's nice to be near lakes with personalities, you know? You can go to either, depending on your mood. Or you can just go swimming in the pool. Whatever.
Our apartment is awesome! It's so nice to have our things out again. (We were living with some friends for a while. As great as it was, it's nice to have our own space with our own possessions.) It's amazing how much I missed having MY things. It's like we identify with our "stuff." While, to some, it might seem vain or materialistic, I DO identify with my stuff. The things I own and decorate my home with reflect a little (or a lot) of who I am. The living room and dining room are cozy and country-ish, with wild flowers on the table and comfy couches. The porch has a comfy swing and windchimes that just call to you, "Come, Sit, Relax." The guest room is black and white, with the old falling-apart bookshelf that I proudly fixed, refinished, and painted to match. There are several photos (some of my own) adorning the walls. That room is my creative outlet. It's who I am. Then, the highlight of the place: the bedroom and bathroom. They display my wild side, full of tropical landscapes and bright colors. Some of the pictures are places I've been and some are fantastic places existing only on canvas. It's amazing how "at home" you can feel when you have a place that you can decorate with "your stuff." It just makes it worth coming home to.


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OBX Trolley
Outer Banks Wedding Transportation – OBX Trolley features the newest form of transportation on the beach. Affectionately called Stella, this classic-looking beauty seats 35 on her carved wooden seats and up to 10 additional standing. Nine of her front seats face inward for the comfort of the bride and her maids in long dresses. It's like having your own chauffeur: Stella and her commercial driver are all yours and waiting for you and your scheduled drop-offs and pickups during your entire event.
111 E. Baltic Street
Nags Head, NC


text: Traffic Master Pro After having a successful run on the iPhone, Traffic Master now comes to Mac in a new avatar. Make sure you clear all the cars form the screen without crashing them. Left click to accelerate or right click to stop the car. You get additional +5 strategy bonus if you do not click any car! A great game of strategy and skill with upto 5 unique challenging maps! If you like this game, get it for your iOS devices too! Check the iTunes store for the iPhone and iPad version! Screenshots


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Opened 6 years ago
Last modified 5 years ago
#395 closed change
Filter hit statistics backend — at Version 12
|Reported by:
|arthur, trev, famlam, kzar, kirill@…, manvel@…
|Blocked By:
|#396, #495
|Verified working:
|Review URL(s):
Description (last modified by kzar)
This ticket is part of the [Filter Hit Statistics Tool #495](https://issues.adblockplus.org/ticket/495) group. We're aiming to cut down on unused filters by allowing users to opt-in and share their filter usage data with us. This ticket is related to the back-end database and related APIs.
What to change
Create a web application (e.g. Flask) that collects filter hit statistics sent by Adblock Plus (as of #394) anonymously.
Filter hits will be collected for a certain period of time by the browser, for example 1 week, and then be submitted to the web application via a POST request as JSON.
The JSON submitted will be a map of filters, each filter key being a map of domains with each domain key being the number of hits.
This server will then store the raw data as JSON in either flat files or noSQL/similar database and also will store aggregated data in a MySQL database. In the future if the data proves too much we might stop recording the raw data at all.
Aggregated data needs to be weighted somehow as newer data is more important than old data.
The server then needs to provide two API calls for a front end application:
1.) Query by filter. "For this filter show me which domains matched and how often."
2.) Query by domain. "For this domain which filters matched and how often?"
Server should be set up in the infrastructure repository with Puppet scripts etc. It will be a dedicated server called "hitstats".
- What storage should we use for the raw data? We want to balance simplicity and speed against the usefulness of the format. E.g. MongoDB might be more useful for querying but be complex to maintain or struggle under a large load.
- What kind of authentication are we going to use to prevent outside people from performing the queries?
- What exact format will the browser send the data to the server in?
- What querying of the raw data would be useful?
Change History (12)
comment:1 Changed 6 years ago by sebastian
- Blocking 396 added
comment:2 Changed 6 years ago by arthur
- Cc arthur added
comment:3 Changed 6 years ago by trev
- Blocking 495 added
comment:4 Changed 6 years ago by trev
- Blocking 155 removed
- Cc trev added
- Description modified (diff)
- Ready set
- Sensitive unset
comment:5 Changed 6 years ago by arthur
- Cc famlam added
- Platform set to Unknown
comment:6 Changed 6 years ago by trev
- Owner sebastian deleted
@sebastian: Please feel free to assign this to you when you actually start working on it.
comment:7 Changed 6 years ago by fhd
- Description modified (diff)
- Priority changed from Unknown to P2
- Summary changed from Implement web application in order to process filter hit stats to Filter hit statistics backend
comment:8 Changed 6 years ago by kzar
- Owner set to kzar
comment:9 Changed 6 years ago by kzar
@palant @fhd: Could you guys update this ticket with some more details? Expectations you have of how this will work etc? (I think if it's spec'd a bit more we could hopefully cut down some back and forth with long delays!)
- What format will the data come in, JSON straight from the extension?
- Should the back end process the data at all?
- Where do you want the data to be stored? (Postgres database somewhere, something else?)
- Does the back end need to provide an API for querying the data or any interface for viewing the data directly?
- Any other expectations you have?
comment:10 Changed 6 years ago by kzar
- Cc dave@… added
- Description modified (diff)
comment:11 Changed 6 years ago by kzar
- Description modified (diff)
comment:12 Changed 6 years ago by kzar
- Description modified (diff)


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I've often been described as a "calm" person. I'm not sure if they really mean "boring," but I'm happy to be calm most of the time.
When others are stressing out, I can help calm them down.
When things aren't going well, I calmly take appropriate action instead of falling apart.
When things are falling apart, I can hold to the center. I can feel into the difficulty, and find the peace, the unshakable connection to everything around me.
I'm not saying that to brag, but in hopes that it will move others to try it as well.
If you'd like to be calm, to stress out less … I offer you this guide.
I recently offered this motto to my 18-year-old daughter, when she was stressing out about a situation she was facing:
"No big deal."
I told her, "Just remember NBD. No Big Deal."
Remind yourself of this motto whenever things are going wrong, or someone is frustrating you, or you aren't getting what you want. No big deal.
Of course, there are some things that are a big deal:
I'm sure there are other situations that are a big deal, but most of the time, it's not as big a deal as we imagine. We add stress unnecessarily to the situation.
You have a million things to do an not enough time to do it all? Not a big deal: pick the things you can do, and get to work. That's all you can do anyway, so it's not worth adding some stress to the already difficult situation.
Have a huge task to do that is going to be very difficult? No big deal. Just take the first step. Just get moving. You'll deal with the difficulty.
Plans fall apart? No big deal. Figure out a new alternative.
Someone unhappy with you? No big deal. See their pain, give them some compassion, take the appropriate action to help fix things or go on about your business if it can't be fixed.
There's another way to look at it, of course: everything is a big deal. What we do matters. And in this way, instead of just letting ourselves be distracted or taking things for granted, we can give the act in front of us our full attention and love.
That doesn't mean we need to get upset or stressed out about our situation though: while the act in front of us is a big deal, the situation is not a big deal. Life goes on. And it is delightfully beautiful.
When things are falling apart, when things don't go your way, in addition to reminding yourself that things are No Big Deal … there are some practices you might try out:
You can practice all of these, one after the other, or just pick one and practice it every day for a week or two. You'll find calm. It will be exquisite.


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Our company offers a diversified range of machining services, including one-off prototypes and high production CNC machining. We are one of the few companies that can do custom CNC machining in Calgary. We also supply quality machine components and superior workmanship standards. Our experienced machine shop workers specialize in offering CNC machining and water jet cutting to various industrial companies.
Our clients continue to choose us because we not only offer custom machining services, but superior quality and CNC machining in Calgary.Our machine shop experts and water jet cutters can handle almost any kind of metal or plastic to meet your project's requirements.
From concept to production, we take care of all your machining needs. Contact us today to get a quote on our machining services.


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My Garden Day 66
Wow. So the whole thing went crazy while I wasn't really looking! Over the weekend Opa attempted to pin up some of my tomatoes, but they are just crazy. Today I found a couple of other loose strands so I put some more stakes in and tied them up. I also put some stakes next to the taller type of chilli, cos they look like they are getting to the stage where they will start to fall over in a stiff breeze or if they put out another leaf.
Over the weekend I was at Mum and Dad's house and I am SO jealous of Mum's veggies. She just has stuff growing all over the place. I was a bit worried when I saw how crazy her oregano is, but she said if I just cut mine back, it won't go all wild. As soon as I got home I cut back a few of the more adventurous shoots so that they stay little.
My chillis are black in the joins where other shoots as well as the flowers are coming out, hopefully that is not a problem. I tried to take a pic but it focussed incorrectly. Nothing seems to be dying, so hopefully it will be alright.
Actually, talking about dying, anything under the tomatoes spread is looking very unhappy!! 😦 But I think it is just two marigolds, one chilli (which is hanging on okay), some carrots and leeks. But there are more of all of them in other places, so I am not fussed.
Pics are on facebook


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I am fuming. Seriously, I'm so mad right now. I can't even describe it. Allow me to explain: I was driving to work this morning. Everything was going smoothly. That's when it happened. The asshat in the SUV next to me decided to change lanes. Fine, no problem, whatever. Except he didn't signal his turn OR check his blind spot. So, basically, he turned right into me. I started honking like a madwoman. This did not appear to phase him, as he continued driving into my lane even more aggressively. I had to slam on the breaks. Thankfully, there was no one directly behind me.
That bastard. I pulled up beside him at the next light and started telling him to fuck off and die. He and his wife both yelled back and gave me, gasp, the finger.
I hate when people who can't drive give me shit. They should offer apologetic gestures for their lack of driving skills rather than try to blame the situation on me. I'm pretty cautious on the road. Well, I have to be, considering how crazy Quebec drivers, including but not limited to speed-hungry RDP wops in their souped up Civics, are.
But as polite and careful as I usually am, I also have a mean side. I think it might be road rage. I mean, I'm not mad all the time, but if a driver really pisses me off, I freak out. Once, I got so mad at a cab driver that he got out of his car and started pounding on my window, yelling at me. Also, I honk forever; once I press down on that bitch, I'm leaving my hand there for at least twenty seconds. I've lost it on everyone from mid-life crisis-having old men in their convertible Miatas and girls putting their makeup on behind the wheel to old ladies and driving school students.
I'm quite patient in all aspects of life, so I'm sort of puzzled as to why bad road manners get to me so much. Maybe I've got all kinds of pent-up frustration that I conveniently release every time a moron cuts me off. Whatever. I don't even care at this point. I've narrowly escaped a bunch of bad accidents because of shitty drivers, so I feel as though I'm allowed to get mad at them.


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Daniel T. Goodwin Law
What's My Personal Injury Case Worth?
"What's my case worth?" This is a question that our personal injury attorneys hear almost daily. The answer is that your case value depends on a lot of different factors. The main factors are:
- Liability – Who is at fault in your case? If you were involved in a car accident and you were not ticketed, but the other driver was, then you are likely completely not at fault. Other cases are not so simple. Fault can be apportioned between the parties, for example, in a slip and fall on an icy sidewalk, you may be found 30% at fault while the landowner is found 70% at fault. If liability is apportioned, it can greatly decrease the value of your case.
- Medical Treatment – Did you seek medical treatment immediately after the incident? What kind of treatment did you seek (hospital, physical therapy, etc.)? Did you have to treat for a few months or a few years? How much in medical bills were incurred during your treatment? Injuries requiring invasive surgery or permanent impairment are often worth more than cases involving muscle sprains and strains.
- Damages – Damages are the largest category for determining the worth of your case. It takes into account medical bills, lost wages, and past and future pain and suffering. If your injury has had a huge impact on your life, for example, you broke both legs and were unable to work for a certain amount of time, the value of your case is likely to be greater than cases involving a nagging or inconvenient injury.
If you've been injured, it is important to talk with a personal injury attorney so that you can evaluate the potential value of your case and discuss all your options.
Posted in Personal Injury, Litigation


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Saturday, 28 January 2012
ATC giveaway
Hello all - if you would like a chance to receive an ATC from me made with Crafty Secrets stamps;
Pop over to my
store blog
and leave a comment ;o)
Back soon with some cards
Posted by
Sam Healey
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Thursday, 19 January 2012
All loved up at the Craft US Crazy challenge.
Hooray!! Craft US Crazy is back with its fortnightly challenges ;o) This weeks theme is Valentine/Love! There is also the option of animals for those who don't feel loved up right now! So hopefully there is something for everyone so no excuse not to enter ;o)
We have a wonderful and lovely sponsor with us this challenge! The one and only...
These stamps are sooo cute.
will be giving the following prize to our winner....
So, onto my crad! I have chosen Clementine and isn't she cute holding onto heart?
The image is coloured with Prisma pencils and the heart has glossy accents on it (sorry it looks a bit cloudy but it wasn't quite dry when I took the photo), and the papers are from K & Co. I cut all the hearts out on my Crisut and layered them all up and used the thin heart frames to frame my image. I distressed the edges of the paper and inked them with Gathered Twigs distress ink. The sentiment is a stamp from Studio 490 Art from the Heart available
. The little flowers are made with some flower punches from the same papers and then layered up and some crushed mica added to the centre or a pearl (which I saved from our Christmas crackers LOL)
I added some ribbon, twine and hat pins from my stash and made the inside of the card match with some more hearts;o)
I hope you like it and I hope that we'll see you over at Craft Us Crazy - any craft is welcome so give it a go
Posted by
Sam Healey
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20 Watt Crystalline Solar Panel 12v
20 Watt Crystalline Solar Panel 12v
Out of stock
- Description
- Additional information
- Reviews (0)
SolMaxx Mono 12V 20W: The 20W solar panels can be used as a single module or wired together for increased power. The mono-crystalline cells are encapsulated between an impact
resistant glass and Tedlar backing ensuring decades of weather resistant use. The aluminum frame has four mounting holes on the back for easy mounting.
NOTE: This photo is just a representation of what the product will look like. Actual size and color may vary.
20W panels are perfect for:
- RVs
- Campers
- Water pumping
- Telecom equipment
- Battery charging systems
- Building integrated power system
- Remote power systems
- Typical Power: 20 W
- Optimum operating voltage (Vmp): 17.6
- Optimum operating current (Imp):1.13
- Dimensions: 21.30 x 17.70 x 1.20
- Weight: 6 lbs
Need Assistance?
If you have questions need help or simply feel uncomfortable placing your order online feel free to contact the product representative at 1-800-786-0329.
Additional information
|209 lbs
|21.3 × 1.2 in
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BOSTON (CBS) –Boston College will seek a medical hardship waiver for senior running back Montel Harris (knee injury) and senior defensive tackle Kaleb Ramsey (foot injury), the school announced Sunday.
"After speaking with Montel, Kaleb and our medical personnel, we decided to seek hardship waivers for both student-athletes," Coach Frank Spaziani said. "Our doctors have stated their injuries will preclude both from returning for the remainder of this season. Both have expressed a desire to return for an additional year."
Read: Eagles Fall To No. 8 Clemson, 36-14
"We will begin the process immediately. This will enable Montel and Kaleb to concentrate on healing from their injuries and, hopefully, return for injury-free senior seasons," said Spaziani.
The NCAA may grant hardship waivers to student-athletes with season-ending injuries who have appeared in fewer than 30-percent of their team's competitions with none coming after the midway point of the season.
Harris became Boston College's all-time leading rusher earlier in the season, but has been battling injuries in his left knee since last season when he suffered a torn meniscus. After re-injuring the knee in the preseason, Harris missed the first three games of the regular season. He returned against UMass on September 24 and was able to play the following week against Wake Forest, when he set the record, but suffered another setback.
Harris ran for 135 yards on 31 carries in 2011, giving him 3,735 yards for his career.
The Eagles are 1-5 on the season.


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At first glance, a visitor to Cape Town might not notice the extent of the parched conditions — people still go about their business, amid the same kind of hustle and bustle you would find in other major cities. But looking closer, there are signs that something is not right. People standing in buckets to conserve water during showers is one such sign, and bottled water flying off grocery store shelves is another.
The city of Cape Town, South Africa, is bone dry. In 2017, after two straight years of drought, a third drought year offered more of the same.. This past January, city leaders announced that they would shut off the taps to the municipal water supply in April because that was when "Day Zero" — the day when the water supply would run dry — was predicted to occur. Day Zero has since been pushed back to sometime in 2019, but, for 4 million Capetonians, living under the specter of a day without water is the new normal, and signs of that reality litter the city. Sometimes literally.
Genetics studies have dated the largest migrations of early Homo sapiens out of Africa to between 70,000 and 55,000 years ago, although smaller groups may have left earlier. The most widely accepted exodus theory, known as the "green carpet" or "green Sahara" hypothesis, holds that people likely left during wetter periods in the Sahara and Arabia, which would have allowed easier passage into Eurasia via the Middle East. But new research supports the opposite idea: that drier conditions may have triggered at least some of the exodus.
In a comprehensive global analysis, including data from more than 43,000 rainfall stations and 5,300 river monitoring stations in 160 countries, researchers report that global rainfall is increasing, likely due to warming air temperatures that allow more moisture into the atmosphere, causing more intense rainfall. Rural areas tend to absorb excess water during storms, preventing widespread flooding in rural zones, but between storms, rising temperatures also mean more evaporation from exposed soils, creating drier conditions over the long term, the team noted in Scientific Reports. Meanwhile, in urban environments, more intense rainfall often overwhelms stormwater catchments in places with less exposed soil, leading to a higher incidence of flooding.
The Dead Sea, a landlocked lake bordered by Israel, Jordan and Palestine, is nearly 10 times saltier than the ocean. And it's getting saltier. Since the beginning of the 20th century, the water level has dropped by nearly 30 meters, largely because of diversions of the Jordan River, the lake's primary tributary and the arid region's main source of fresh water.
An endless patchwork of circular fields surrounds the small West Texas town of Olton. The unnatural shapes and sharp boundaries of the brown and green fields result from center-pivot irrigation systems that pull water from the Ogallala Aquifer and allow more crops to grow than the semi-arid landscape would otherwise allow. On these dusty farms and within town offices a drama is unfolding over what to do as irrigation wells run dry.
Most people think of landslides as fast-moving events, but many slides creep slowly, advancing over hundreds or thousands of years. In a new study, researchers looking at creeping landslides in California have revealed an unexpected consequence of the state's ongoing drought: Many of the slides have nearly stopped due to the lack of water in the soil.
Levee failures are most often associated with the onslaught of water from large storms, such as Hurricane Katrina, whose landfall in 2005 caused more than 50 floodwalls and levees around New Orleans to fail.
But the lack of water can also weaken these critical earthen structures, according to recent research presented last December at the fall meeting of the American Geophysical Union in San Francisco.
As the extreme drought in California persists into another year, EARTH's regular commentator returns with some thoughts on the proposed solutions, and the wisdom of going "up the hill" to fetch your water.
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