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Tour our clinic
B1G1: Business for Good
Taking care of all your veterinary needs
Happy Pets Family Vet comprises a team of passionate veterinary professionals who love to look after your pets.
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Dr Tom
Tom graduated with honours in Veterinary Science from the Uni of Qld in 2013. When asked what his favourite part of being a vet is, Tom said "it is the special bond I get to be a part of and help nurture between pets and their owners. That's where the inspiration for the name 'Happy Pets' came from, the devotion to making every pet happy".
His journey since graduation has taken him back to Rockhampton (where he grew up) to practice his new graduate years before making the move to London where he continued his work as a vet treating all creatures great and small.
Tom is a tragic fan of all things Queensland Reds. He is absolutely besotted with his little French Bulldog Lacey "The Piglet" that he and his wife took in and patched up. He lives in Camp Hill with his family and loves being part of all things local.
Dr Julia
Born and raised in Brisbane, Julia graduated from Veterinary Science at the University of Queensland in 2011, and moved to Wangaratta in regional Victoria to pursue her interest in mixed practice. She loved the opportunity to work with a variety of farm and small animals and made the most of the country lifestyle, ski fields, mountains, hiking trails and wineries of north-east Victoria. She fulfilled her dream of working as a vet in the UK for 7 months in 2015, and finally moved back to Brisbane in 2018, drawn by family, friends and warmer weather.
Julia loves seeing the bond between people and their pets, and enjoys the varied cases of general practice, she has a keen interest in the 'fear free' approach to veterinary care and animal behaviour. When she's not at work Julia loves spending time with her dog Scarlett, her family and friends, cooking, gardening and doing all things outdoors.
Dr Cheryl
Cheryl grew up in Malaysia and came to Australia to pursue her childhood dream of being a veterinarian in 2009. She graduated with honours from the University of Queensland in 2013 (the same year as Dr Tom!)
Other than a stint at Queensland Veterinary Specialists as an intern in the internal medicine department between 2017 and 2018, Cheryl has worked as a small animal general practitioner all over Brisbane. Cheryl enjoys building a rapport with clients and investigating and managing tricky medicine cases.
In 2018, Cheryl obtained her membership in small animal medicine from the Australian and New Zealand College of Veterinary Scientists by examination- essentially more study for some fancy letters behind her name.
Outside of work, Cheryl is busy chasing after her toddler, eating too much pastry and watching too much Netflix.
Head Nurse Stacey
Stacey has been in the vet industry for 9 years, 6 of which she has been a head nurse (which is a fantastic achievement!)
She has been with Happy Pets since day 1 and has loved welcoming the many new pets into the Happy Pets family. She is extremely bonded to the clinic because in her words, "the clients are amazing and by focusing on keeping the pet owners well informed, we can achieve really happy pets!"
Outside of work Stacey absolutely loves her cat Enmebaragasi (Bubba) and her Bichon x Maltese x Shih Tzu named Cornelius Fudge (Neil). Stacey also loves the NRL, bring it up next time you are in and watch her face light up.
Nurse Taryn
Taryn has been vet nursing for 10 years now, working in a few different clinics around both Brisbane and Sydney before joining the Happy Pets Team in 2020.
She enjoys all aspects of vet nursing but has a special interest in surgical nursing. Since joining the Happy Pets team, Taryn has also really enjoyed getting to know all of the clients and their pets.
Taryn absolutely adores her German Shorthaired Pointer named Lilo, and her Pug X named Ollie. In her spare time she enjoys going to footy games, going to the markets and hanging out with her dogs.
Nurse Chloe
Chloe has always had a large interest in animals big and small which led her to begin studying the Bachelor of Veterinary Technology in 2018. She joined the Happy Pets team in June 2019 and loves to help our patients and clients in any way possible, linking her studies and practical experience to provide the best experience for everyone involved.
When Chloe is not working or studying you will either catch her playing rough or snuggling up with her big dogs Pumpkin and Buddy, or out travelling for new and exciting restaurants. At home Chloe has her two dogs, two cats named Oreo and Spice and her turtle named Mr Turtle
Nurse Clara
Clara grew up in Germany and has always loved animals, but especially has a soft spot for dogs. She joined the Happy Pets team in October 2019 as part of her course in Veterinary Nursing and loves looking after hospital patients, making sure they recover well and getting to see them go home.
She is especially interested in surgical nursing and animal welfare and would like to continue learning about the intricacies of companion animal training.
Outside of work Clara likes spending time outdoors, going to the beach in her Troopie, and drinking coffee. She absolutely can't wait to add a dog or two to the family as soon as possible.
520 Old Cleveland Road,
Camp Hill,


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Purim to Pesach
World-Healing Judaism
The Shalom Center
Living inside the Book of Exodus; Make the Seder activist again!
Submitted by Rabbi Arthur Waskow on 2/5/2019
Today all Americans and most life-forms on Planet Earth are living inside the Book of Exodus -- our health and livelihoods, our freedom and our lives, endangered by modern Pharaohs.
One vigorous response: Turn the Passover Seder from a commemoration into an incitement.
In 1969, in the midst of a crisis over racism and war, we created a new kind of Seder. We called it the Freedom Seder. We held it on April 4, the first anniversary of the murder of Dr. Martin Luther King.
This coming April 7, fifty years later, in the midst of an American and a planetary crisis even sharper, The Shalom Center is sponsoring a new Interfaith Freedom Seder + 50.
Among its leaders will be Reverends William Barber and Liz Theoharis, co-chairs of the Poor People's Campaign; Ana Maria Archila, who challenged Senator Flake in the famous elevator and who heads the Center for Popular Democracy; and Debbie Almontaser, who has both suffered from Islamophobia and transcended it.
There has been a rush of registrants in recent days. Space is limited, The time to register is NOW.
https://theshalomcenter.org/civicrm/event/info?reset=1&id=22
Fifty years ago, the Freedom Seder was held at an African-American church in Washington, DC. This year, the new Seder will be held at an African-American mosque in Philadelphia.
Fifty years ago, the Freedom Seder wove together the ancient story of liberation from slavery to Pharaoh with the story of the liberation struggle of Black America against racism. This year, it will address four overarching oppressions: racism, militarism, materialism, and sexism.
Fifty years ago, it was broadcast by WBAI in New York and by the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation. This year, it will be live-streamed to groups around the country, large or small, that want to connect their own Seders with the Interfaith Freedom Seder + 50.
Why do we need to hold this Interfaith Freedom Seder + 50? Not to commemorate the past, but to once again change the future. And this year the Seder is even more appropriate as a form than it was fifty years ago,
We are dealing with a Pharaoh who has defined US citizens who are descendants of legal Spanish-speaking immigrants as a dangerous minority ethnic group, and US citizens who are members of at least one minority religious community as dangerous outsiders, likely to side with America's enemies, harboring terrorists.
A Pharaoh who is willing to subject hundreds of thousands of government workers to slavery, as they were required to work without being paid.
A Pharaoh who was willing to rip children from the arms of their parents because they were from a wave of "foreigners" he despised, and who created prisons for those children that have resulted in the deaths of at least two.
And a Pharaoh who is deliberately acting to worsen the climate crisis and bring far more Plagues than ten upon the Earth and all humanity. Who responded "I don't believe it" when a broad network of his own officials submitted a well-researched, comprehensive report that the suffusion of our atmosphere with CO2 and methane were already bringing about unnatural disasters and were sure to create climate chaos, deep economic dislocations, and massive medical emergencies unless major healing action were taken immediately. Just "I don't believe it."
And a Resistance emerges. On January 21, 2017, women, as in ancient times, were the first to challenge this despotic power.
Please take 3 1/2 minutes to watch this video of a street-theater action against the Carbon Pharaohs at
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y2DTMcMVdK0&feature=youtu.be
All this is stunningly reminiscent of the Pharaoh in the first chapters of Exodus who tells his people that the Israelites living in an Egyptian province -- the grandchildren of immigrants to Egypt – – are having too many children of their own. He calls them Ivrim, "Cross-Overs," a word of contempt analogous to "wetbacks, "rootless cosmopolitans," or "globalists."
Then he moves from words of hatred and contempt to acts of violence. These Ivrim must be subjugated into slaves, and must be controlled by overseers who, we soon learn, are free to kill the Ivrim on a whim or a bias of their own. He sets up a program to murder their children.
When resistance begins, it is led by women -– Shifra and Puah, the midwives who invent a first stage of nonviolent resstance by refusing Pharaoh's order to murder the boy-babies. Then Miriam and Pharaoh's Daughter take positive rebellious action in a kind of international feminist conspiracy to save Moses' life and nurture him.
And then there emerges a resistance movement, led by Moses, Aaron, and Miriam. When they challenge Pharaoh, his stubbornness and cruelty and arrogance bring disasters – Plagues -- upon his own country. When his own officials urge him to let the Israelites go free because his stubbornness is wrecking Egypt, he keeps refusing – – and his refusal brings on more ecological disasters.
So the Exodus story is perhaps the first understanding of a linkage: what we at The Shalom Center today call "eco-social justice." Racial, economic, and social justice cannot be separated from ecological sanity.
Today Corporate Carbon Pharaohs and their governmental enablers are using their Hyper-Wealth to choke the Breath of Life, the Wind of Change, and Its efforts -- our efforts -- to heal the planet and our neighborhoods from abject economic inequality, deep racism and many dfferent phobias, endless war, subjugation and destruction. And their depredations harm and kill the poorest first and worst. These realities are the ultimate in eco-social INjustice.
What to do? Today we need to create a new Resistance to these new Carbon Pharaohs.
The Interfaith Freedom Seder + 50 will gather people who are ready to resist the new Pharaohs with a new band of Resisters demanding eco-social justice. Register now at
And please begin paying attention to a new and brilliant campaign fpr eco-social justice called the Green New Deal.
It points to what Dr. King called "the fierce urgency of Now," a fierce urgency that in the Exodus crisis we embodied in matzah – for there was no time for the bread to rise. It demands a swift transition to renewable energy with great numbers of well-paid green jobs, with special care for workers displaced as we move out of coal and oil and fracking. It demands special attention to the forgotten and forsaken in big-city neighborhoods and rural enclaves, and to the battered but resilient Native communities.
The Shalom Center has signed on as one of an array of organization supporting the Green New Deal.
I see this as the best hope for breaking through the greed of the Carbon Pharaohs and the despair of many people.
Can the Jewish community join this effort as our own generation's renewal of the meaning of the Exodus?
The answer is blowing in the Wind -- the Wind of Change, the Breath of Life -- the breath we breathe into our own words and songs and arms and legs of action:
Go down Moses,
Way down in EVERY land --
Tell all Pharaohs --
Set My Creation free!
Please join us in eating together, singing together, learning together, taking action together --
Please register NOW at
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Make a recurring donation and receive Freedom Journeys as our token of appreciation. Click here for more info about the book. Freedom Journeys is a deep meditation on the timeless—and timely—relevance of the Exodus narrative. In the grand tradition of mystical exegesis, Waskow and Berman reflect upon Exodus not only as an event that happened "then" and "there", but a paradigm of movement that is happening here and in the now, for all of us, Jew and Muslim, Black and White, male and female. —Omid Safi, professor of Islamic studies, University of North Carolina.
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redpajama_set_name: RedPajamaCommonCrawl


Home>Archtop Pickups (For Sale)> Z (Sold) Pickup and Pickguard for Eastman Archtop.
Z (Sold) Pickup and Pickguard for Eastman Archtop.
(HOLD FOR DAVID)This is a genuine Eastman Archtop Floating Pickup and Pickguard. It is endorsed Eastman on top and is labeled: Kent Armstrong Model HJGS-1 underneath.
A Kent Armstrong Model HJGS-1 Floating pick up attached to Pickguard. This genuine assembly is off an Eastman Archtop Guitar and is indorsed Eastman on top and underneath it is labeled Kent Armstrong. Should fit most Eastman archtop guitars. If you require any measurements please contact me. It is designed to be attached with only two screws. The concept is to ensure it does not make too much contact with the Guitar body.


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Lachaux é uma comuna francesa na região administrativa de Auvérnia-Ródano-Alpes, no departamento Puy-de-Dôme. Estende-se por uma área de 22,77 km².

Esta gruta foi encontrada por acaso por um grupo de 4 amigos que perderam o seu cão. Demoraram cerca de 4 semanas para verem a gruta inteira.

Comunas de Puy-de-Dôme

redpajama_set_name: RedPajamaWikipedia


Yoga asana practitioners of all levels should never underestimate the immense benefits of this pose and integrate it as often as possible into their practice.
Firstly, headstand is an inversion – and in fact, is the most acute inversion a human can do with the least amount of muscular effort for long periods of time without hanging from an inversion swing or a tree.
Other inversions are either not placing the body in a complete 90° angle from the floor, like shoulder stand, because the neck and head are actually not totally inverted, or rather they are more gently inverted.
Additionally, poses like handstand and Pincha Mayurasana require so much muscular effort in order to keep the body inverted, that they reduce the amount of time one can hold the pose. Of course, ancient yogic texts encourage holding poses for as long as possible in order to receive the maximum benefits, as well as to unlock the secrets the poses actually hold.
Secondly, headstand stimulates the 7th Chakra directly because there is direct pressure placed on the top of the head. The 7th Chakra is called the Thousand Petaled Lotus and is said to be the seat of Divinity itself. Here, when Kundalini rises, Shiva and Shakti meet in divine union, the Brahma Randhra or portal to the heavens is opened and one can experience Absolute Oneness or Yoga.
Various Yogic texts including the Hatha Yoga Pradipika mention a special secretion called ambrosia, amrita or nectar which secretes from a place in the brain called the bindu visarga. It is symbolized by the crescent moon – like the one often seen placed on the head of the deity Shiva.
At the bindu, the drops of nectar secrete and drip down through the body, reducing our innate human vitality and resulting in the inevitable decay of the body. However, through myriad yogic practices, like Sirsasana, meditation, etc, this amrita can be preserved and assimilated into the mind/body, resulting in increased consciousness, reduction of the effects of aging, and eventual enlightenment in this lifetime.
For meditation purposes, it is always best to be grounded at the first chakra with an elongated spine pointing upwards towards the sky.
However, the greatest benefits of asana rest in unlocking the energy dormant inside us. Headstand literally turns everything upside down and shakes us up inside to help awaken and purify the energetic pathways, called bindus, whilst simultaneously stimulating the area of the body with the highest spiritual significance – the 7th Chakra. Through the practice of headstand, the main thoroughfare through which the kundalini travels up through the Shushumna Nadi channel is purified, thereby allowing our spiritual energy to flow with greater ease.
If you've never done headstand before or have never been shown how, you should definitely seek the guidance of a yoga asana teacher. There are many safety considerations when attempting headstand, predominantly because of the sheer amount of weight that is being placed on the head and the more delicate bones of the cervical spine, as well as high or low blood pressure concerns, which should also be considered.
Before actually going up into headstand, you need to have the support of your abdominal, back and neck muscles, flexibility in the pelvis, legs and spine, along with the appropriate alignment of your arms, shoulders, neck, head and spine so that the spine can remain upright and elongated without unnecessary pressure or compression. There are many factors at play.
If there are any known health complications like neck injuries, spine injuries, high or low blood pressure, or any concerns when you invert the blood directly to your head (like sinus problems, glaucoma, seizures, stroke, epilepsy, or ear infections), you should ask your healthcare practitioner before attempting headstand.
However, if the correct preparatory poses are done for the body under the guidance of a skilled yoga asana teacher, headstand can be practiced and held for long periods of time. BKS Iyengar expounds the importance of headstand and recommends an entire headstand sequence in order to strengthen one's balance in the pose, and he suggests remaining inverted for up to 15 minutes.
Pattabhi Jois's Astanga Yoga also includes headstand in all three series and many variations can be learned through either system. After you become quite comfortable with headstand, you can begin to practice variations of the pose which may allow you to hold a headstand for longer periods of time.
For those with acute injuries to the neck or spine or complications with blood pressure to the head, Sirsasana can also be practiced with that assistance of blocks or an inversion sling, along with the guidance of an experienced yoga asana teacher.
Once proficiency has been gained in the performance of this asana you can shift your focus away from the physical aspects of the pose and begin to focus on the stillness of the body and silence of the mind. In this way, you are reaching the ultimate objective of practicing headstand, which is to stimulate the 7th Chakra in order to awaken the Kundalini Shakti and have Her reunite at the Sahasrara with Shiva Consciousness- the Absolute Self.
The 7thchakra is analogous to the highest state of consciousness you can realize within yourself and is said to be the portal through which we receive the highest spiritual blessings, guidance and divine radiance.
By maintaining present moment awareness throughout our practice, while witnessing and letting go of all thoughts, emotions, and experiences, we purify and stimulate all of the 7 chakras, the nadis and subtle energy bodies, in order to reach our final destination – Absolute Supreme Consciousness.


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Swansea 2 Arsenal 1: Defensive Frailties Exposed Again!!!
Swansea 2 (Sigurdsson 75′, Gomis 78′) – Arsenal 1 (Sanchez 68′)
Match Report – Match Highlights – Post-Match Press Conference (via Arsenal.com)
Following the capitulation against Anderlecht, the least we expected from Arsenal was a good performance that hopefully would have resulted into three points. As Arsene Wenger famously said, it takes a while to build confidence but it takes an instant for it to fade away from a team. The Gunners have always been a "fragile side" in recent times, and I'm not talking about the usual niggling injuries that haunt the team. I'm talking about the way the Gunners tend to give their opponents a chance to hurt them, and sadly, this trend hasn't stopped as it was on show yet again at Swansea.
I didn't expect much changes in the team that fucked up big time against Anderlecht and as expected, Aaron Ramsey replaced the injured Mikel Arteta alongside that waste of matter and space, Mathieu Flamini. It's really disheartening to see how low his stock has gotten this season but I'd come to that much later.
From the onset, you could see how the Gunners struggled to get a hold of the game. The needless sloppy passing and shaky all-round play was shocking for a side that's usually confident with the ball. Wojciech Szczesny was called to action a couple of times and a noteworthy highlight of the first half was seeing the energetic Swansea winger, Jefferson Montero, tear Calum Chambers apart. We all know that Chambers isn't the most agile of defenders and with a player of his inexperience, I expected Wenger to instruct Alex Oxlade-Chamberlain to offer him more protection but that never happened. A more experienced lad like Tomas Rosicky would have known what to do.
Despite the fact that Swansea had the upper hand with a couple of chances here and there that merely stung the palms of Szczesny, Arsenal had chances to kill off the contest in the first half. Ramsey went on to have a stinker but he produced a moment of immense quality when he used his technique to blast a shot that almost beat Lukasz Fabianski. Then there was the one-two between Danny Welbeck and the Ox that left the English forward clean on goal but he chose to produce one of those frustrating moments that made Manchester United fans feel that his sale was justified. If it was Alexis Sanchez, that outcome would definitely had been different.
Even though it was glaring to see Chambers struggle (he also got a yellow card), the way Arsenal's midfield crumbled was just downright shocking. Flamini was non-existent throughout the entire game till his substitution and Ramsey made no influence at all and he was also subbed after another below par performance.
In the second half, Arsenal upped the ante a bit and the goal might not be one of the best you'd see from the club this season but the buildup was really good. Welbeck showed great composure to see out the challenge of Ashley Williams before threading a neat pass to Alexis and as expected, Fabianski's net rattled.
Same scenario like Tuesday, the Gunners were leading with thirty minutes to go. Were they going to be compact and keep things tight? Would they be disciplined enough to see out the game and grab all three points? Where they going to defend better as a team as Mertesacker stated last week? Questions for the gods.
What did we get? Typical Arsenal capitulating in grand style. Garry Monk handed a sub appearance to a young quick Gambian-Swedish bloke called Modou Barrow and he made his mark by darting through the middle of the park (Flamini was probably basking in the Caribbean sun and getting a sun tan at this time) till Kieran Gibbs committed a cynical challenge at the edge of the area to scythe down the lad. Gyifl Sigurdsson did the honors of curling a peach of a free kick past Szczesny but could the goal be avoided? Of course!!!!
Take players like Victor Wanyama or even Morgan Schneiderlein for instance. They're definitely not on the same level as a player like Flamini (light years ahead of the French instruction-barking bloke) but if they were faced a situation where an attacking midfielder was surging down the middle of the park, they would not be ball watching as some lad waltz past them to create a goalscoring opportunity. Southampton's back line consists of Nathaniel Clyne, Toby Alderweireld, Jose Fonte and Ryan Bertrand. These aren't defenders that would instill fear on any opposition forward but while they do their bit at the back, they have been offered a great deal of protection from Wanyama and Schneiderlein. This is one of the reasons why they have the best defense in the Premier League.
As if conceding such a goal wasn't bad enough, Montero destroyed Chambers yet again before lobbing a cross that was headed home by the super sub, Batefembi Gomis. Even though I feel really sad for Nacho Monreal because he's the guy that would take the stick for not getting to the ball before the French forward, I don't think Per Mertesacker would have fared any better, because for a guy so tall, he's really shite in defending some aerial balls.
The stats folks stated that Gomis' goal was the sixth goal the Gunners had conceded from a header. Only Burnley has a poorer record this season in this regard. The goal prompted Wenger to act and he threw in Jack Wilshere and Theo Walcott into the mix that came on for the ineffectual pair of Flamini and Ramsey. Late on, Yaya Sanogo came on to put Chambers out of his misery. The Gunners huffed and puffed like the Big Bad Wolf but Swansea built their defensive house on a brick wall and that was it. Another loss coupled with a putrid performance.
Wenger's quotes in the post-match press conference summed it up for me,
"It was a game where we were in control and at 1-0 up I felt we allowed them back into the game by losing some challenges in the middle of the park that you cannot afford to lose and on that front we were a little bit on the back foot"
At least, he knows what went wrong. Sadly, January 1 isn't next weekend.
The international break would give the players a chance to regroup, reflect and try to learn some lessons on what went wrong.
Let's just hope that they all come back from the break unscathed. Especially the Alexis Awesome Sanchez.
Posted in Arsenal, Football, Match Report, Premier League
Tags: Arsenal, Football, Premier League, Swansea


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Dead in the Water: A Kate Shugak Mystery #3
There are some pretty tough men on an Alaskan fishing boat . . . and now one very tough woman is about to take them on. Kate's casting her net ...
There are some pretty tough men on an Alaskan fishing boat . . . and now one very tough woman is about to take them on. Kate's casting her net for a killer—but she may be in a little too deep this time . . .
Dana Stabenow is the author of eleven previous Kate Shugak mysteries as well as three featuring Alaska State Trooper Liam ...
The Avilda rolled into a trench of opaque green seas. Normally, when she was vertical, those seas rose as high as her masthead. Now the crabber was listing so steeply that the portside railing was awash. Kate, legs braced against the slant of the deck, had her head and shoulders jammed up against the frame of an empty crab pot. The pot was threatening to slide over her and the port rail in that order. Her arms were widespread; her fingers, numbed with cold and wet with salt water, clutched desperately to the frame of the pot. The wire mesh pressed into the flesh of her face. Something warm and liquid slid down her cheek. She wondered, without interest, if it was tears or blood.
The pot was seven feet tall and seven feet wide and three feet deep, a steel frame covered in metal netting, 750 pounds of dead weight empty. Kate was five feet tall, weighed just over 120 pounds and was mere flesh and bone, but she had Newton on her side, and she waited. She could feel the rest of the crew watching, but she was fiercely determined to do this herself, without help and, more importantly, without asking for help.
A muscle in her back rebelled at the unaccustomed strain and spasmed. She cursed beneath her breath, though if she'd shouted her voice would not have been heard above the crash of Aleutian water on deck, the howl of Aleutian winds overhead and the rough, deep-throated roar of the engine beating up through the soles of her feet.
At last, at last, the crabber mounted the next swell and began its inevitable slide in the opposite direction. Groaning in every sheet of plate steel, her submerged hull began to roll and in one smooth, inexorable shift swung through the perpendicular. The killing pressure of the pot on Kate's shoulders eased. "For every action," she muttered as her feet pushed against the slippery deck, "there is an equal and opposite reaction. For every action, there is—"
The Avilda began her heel to starboard. With an involuntary sound, half grunt, half howl, in harmony with the shriek of the straining ship, Kate shoved with all her strength. The pot shuddered, moved a fraction of an inch, another, gave a sudden, stuttering lurch and began to slide. Kate, almost running to keep pace, shoved and slid and cursed her way behind it and across the deck, to fetch up against the opposite railing with a solid thump.
Behind her she heard Andy Pence give a whoop and a shout of approval mixed with amazement, and she thought she heard Seth Skinner swear in a tone distinctly admiring, but she was busy catching her breath. Besides, it was a point of honor not to acknowledge that she had done anything out of the ordinary. Panting, she clutched at the pot for support, fighting a wave of dizziness that made her close her eyes and lean her forehead against the cold, wet mesh. She tried to remember the last time she'd eaten something, anything. When she couldn't, she straightened painfully and looked around for the burly figure of the deck boss. "Hey! Ned!"
Ned Nordhoff looked as if he were wading through a nest of pale spiders, up to his knees in the long, knobbled legs of tanner crab scrabbling frantically for purchase whether they were on their way into the hold as keepers or over the side and back into the Bering Sea. At Kate's shout, he looked up. She held up a hand, rubber-gloved fingers splayed, and jerked a thumb aft toward the cabin. He scowled, his hands barely checking. "You just went!"
Kate was soaked through to the skin and chilled through to the bone. Hunger had been gnawing on her for so long that her stomach felt like it was about to crawl up her esophagus.
Her first, knee-jerk response to the deck boss's terse comment was anatomically impossible, her second sociologically taboo, both eminently satisfactory. She opened her mouth and a sheet of spray slapped her in the face, no bigger or harder than any such over the last week, but enough to ring two faces up before her eyes, side by side, wearing identical accusatory expressions, a macabre jackpot in a hellish casino.
Christopher Alcala. And Stuart Brown.
That's all. Just two faces staring out at her from Jack Morgan's bulging file folder. Christopher Alcala, a thin, pale ascetic's face with big brown bedroom eyes, dark hair falling into them. He reminded Kate of her cousin Martin, when Martin was sober. And Stuart Brown, all fair curls and laughing eyes and wide grin. He looked cuddly, like an overstuffed teddy bear, and almost that mature.
Both Alcala and Brown had disappeared off the deck of the very ship upon which she was currently standing, more or less, not six months before, during the last fishing season. She was working Brown's spot.
Both of them very probably dead.
Both of them just twenty-one years old.
Kate looked at the mocking expression of the deck boss, who had been on board when Alcala and Brown disappeared and who may or may not have assisted in said disappearance, and let the furious words back up in her throat until she thought she might strangle on them. But it wasn't her job to tell the deck boss where he could get off, preferably into five hundred fathoms of North Pacific Ocean five hundred miles from Dutch Harbor, although, if God was good, that would come with time.
No, she was casual labor for the Anchorage District Attorney, for a price, and it was her job to find out what had happened to those two very young men. And Jack Morgan, one-time boss, part-time lover and full-time chief investigator for the Anchorage District Attorney, was paying her five hundred dollars a day, a hundred over his usual fee, to let the deck boss of this happy ship dump on her, if such was his pleasure. A hundred dollars extra was what it took to get her back on the deck of a boat again, and she knew a moment of bitter regret that it hadn't taken more. A lot more.
She took a deep breath, inhaling a little spindrift along the way, and sneezed. It knocked her off balance and she slipped on a deck that rejoiced in maintaining a surface halfway between ice and slime. "Shit!" she yelled, and caught at the railing on her way down. Her hip hit hard, the rubberized plastic of her rain gear caught and almost tore. She was back on her feet in an instant. An unfriendly grin split the bearded face of the deck boss.
Kate flipped him off, and he gave a short bark of laughter. "I'm going to grab something to eat!" she yelled over the sound of the waves.
He shrugged and gave a grudging nod. She groped hand over hand across the tilting deck to the galley's starboard door and fought her way inside. The boat heeled over into the down side of a swell and Kate waited, bracing herself against the bulkhead, until the Avilda righted herself and began a swing in the opposite direction. Using the listing motion as impetus she staggered across the galley floor, barely catching the handle of a cupboard with one wildly flailing hand. Drawing herself upright, she reached in and pulled out a box of Cheerios. Great. Oat bran. Just what she needed, food the manufacturer swore wouldn't give her cancer, might even in fact cure it. At the moment developing a nice little inoffensive cancer somewhere on dry land seemed infinitely preferable to what she was grimly convinced was soon to be her death by drowning way too far out at sea.
But they were the first edible thing that came to hand, they were calories, so far as she knew there were no moose steaks on board, and in the prevailing seas she wouldn't have been able to keep a frying pan on the stove long enough to cook them anyway. Bracing herself against the continuing pitch and roll of the deck beneath her, she raised the box, tilted her head back and caught a stream of cereal in her mouth. She chewed and swallowed and repeated the process. Tossing the box back into the cupboard and latching the door, she waited for the roll of the ship to be with her and staggered two steps to the refrigerator, from which she pulled a gallon of milk and drank a quart from the spout without drawing breath. Another step to the sink and four mugs of water followed the milk down.
As she was lowering the mug for the last time, she caught sight of the calendar swinging merrily back and forth on the opposite wall. It was October 21. Or was it October 22? She couldn't remember. They'd left Dutch Harbor the Tuesday before, she thought maybe October 15, but it was hard thinking that far back. Visions of the bunk just down the companionway danced like sugarplums in her head, her sleeping bag open and its red plaid flannel lining rough-smooth on her cheek. The illusion was so real that she took an involuntary step in its direction. Angrily, she gave herself a rough shake, all over, like a dog shaking water from its fur. Without sleep for so long, now she was hallucinating about it.
They'd been hot, "on the crab" for the last three days. The pots they'd set during their last run were coming up plugged with keepers and almost no garbage. They'd been humping it for thirty hours without so much as a sit-down dinner or a nap during that time. Or was it forty hours? She couldn't remember. Kate gave it up and pulled her way to and through the galley's portside door and around the cabin and back to the pot launcher. Greeted by a slap of wind-driven salt spray, she wondered, with a spurt of irritation that surprised her because she didn't think she had the energy for anything except filling the next bait jar that came to hand, why the skipper persisted in powering through the troughs sideways, instead of bringing the ship around and catching them bow on. A flash of yellow caught her eye and she looked up to see Seth Skinner leaning over the rail to catch the next triad of buoys with a boat hook, a long pole with a sharp, curved hook on one end. He hauled in the sopping line hand over hand and when he had enough caught a length of it in the block. Line whipped through the winch, piling up on deck. Minutes later the pot's bridle broke the surface, followed immediately afterward by the pot. It was full of crab, loaded with crab, brimming with crab, overflowing with crab, and Kate didn't know whether to laugh or cry.
Seth Skinner, lean, lanky and imperturbable and who looked like Jimmy Stewart without the horse, pulled the ties that opened the pot door and the crab cascaded down to the deck. For a moment Kate stood still, looking at him speculatively. Seth Skinner, too, had been on board the Avilda the night Alcala and Brown had disappeared.
He raised his head suddenly and caught her looking at him. She met his gaze and held it, more curious than embarrassed. Seth's eyes were a clear gray and vacant of an identifiable expression, oddly peaceful. He smiled at her, a small smile that didn't touch his eyes and barely dented the corners of his mouth, and pulled on the pot, swinging it to one side.
"Shugak!" The shout was snatched out of the mouth of the deck boss and blew past her. She looked around. "You're on sorting!" She nodded to show she understood. Waiting for the next swell, she caught the roll of the deck and slid to a position between pot launcher and hold, up to her knees in every kind of crab known to populate the bottom of the Bering Sea. Bending over, she began to sort through them mechanically. There were a few Dungeness, a couple of blue kings and one small and indignant squid, but mostly the pot was filled with tanners, Chionoecetes bairdi and Chionoecetes opilio. They were both thin, pale crab, with a light brown carapace and a yellowish under-shell, their legs long, slender and slightly flattened. The differences between them were slight. The bairdi weighed about a pound more. The opilio had smoother shells, slightly longer than they were wide, but otherwise to the untrained eye looked much the same as the bairdi. Kate decided it was like telling the difference between red and silver salmon; you had to get up close and personal to tell them apart. But not too close; she jerked back out of the reach of one snapping pincer just in time. The season on opilio didn't open for another two months so they went back in the water. The bairdi were sorted for sex and size. A week's practice had made the six inchers easier to spot; the ones closer to the legal limit she checked with a curved piece of wood carved to fit over the crab's upper shell, measuring five and a half inches end to end. Males under five and a half inches and females were thrown back into the sea, the remainder into the hold, the trip into Dutch and a steam cooker all that remained of their immediate future.
Kate remembered reading somewhere that tanner crab could live up to fourteen years. It took six years for the female to mature and bear eggs. When she did, she could carry as many as 300,000 eggs. As tired as Kate was, she marveled every time she saw a bulging abdominal flap, and there was a certain reverence in the way she handled them. The males she tossed carelessly into the hold with the thousands of tanners already sloshing back and forth in the sea water that would keep them alive until they reached shore and the processor. Plenty more where they came from, or she wouldn't be standing up to her ass in them right now.
Bending once again to her task, she was somewhat shielded from the gusts of wind by the pot launcher and the railing, but the constant rocking back and forth made her head swim and her stomach churn. She knew better than to complain, though, and kept sorting.
About a year later the deck boss signaled the third deckhand to spell her, and she pulled her weary way over to the hold with arms that trembled in protest. She sat a moment on the edge, her numb hands beating some kind of response into the legs dangling into the hold, uncaring of the spray scouring the deck with a frozen hand.
"Get a move on those bait jars, Shugak!" Nordhoff barked.
A sudden rage, welcome because it warmed her, drove her to her feet and to the bait table butted up against the fo'c'sle. At that same moment a malicious gust of wind swirled around the boat and momentarily enveloped the foredeck in a miasma of diesel exhaust. The rage was as instantly replaced by nausea. She barely made it to the rail in time. Cereal, milk and water, all of it came up and then some, in retching, wrenching bursts that left her exhausted and trembling. Someone laughed, and it wasn't a nice laugh. It had to be Nordhoff. She hung, head down, wanting nothing so much as for the next wave to sweep her over the side and into the oblivion of a cold, wet and final embrace, anything to stop the heaving motion of her entire world.
All too soon, a voice boomed out. "Goddammit, get busy, Shugak!"
This time it was the captain's voice, bellowing down at her from an open window on the bridge, and this time when she struggled to repress her initial reply she saw Jack's face. Jack's entire body in a cast. Jack's tombstone, sans the Rest in Peace. She didn't want Jack to rest in peace. She wanted Jack to burn in hell. Unable to summon up even enough energy to swear aloud, she called on every shaking muscle and pulled her way back to the bait table. The block of frozen herring was sliding back and forth with the heaving action of the Avilda, and she grabbed for it with one hand and for the big knife with the plastic handle with her other. On the first blow she brought the knife down too close to the fingers of the hand that held the herring.
She caught herself. The deck boss might be an asshole, the captain marginally competent and the rest of the crew either untrustworthy or unknown, but that didn't mean she had to behave recklessly herself. In fact, considering her reasons for being on board, it was imperative that she did not. She got a better grip on her temper and the knife and began to chop again, this time with more care.
The chunks of herring went into perforated plastic jars. Andy Pence, hired on the day after she was and who had learned everything he ever knew about crab fishing during the last six days, seven hours and thirty-six minutes of his life, staggered across the deck and gathered up an armful of the jars and went staggering back toward the empty pots lined up against the railing. One at a time, he plunged head and shoulders into the pots, hanging the bait jars inside and tying the doors shut on each afterward with lengths of yellow plastic twine.
Kate filled the last bait jar, tightened the lid down and waited for the deck beneath her feet to heave in the right direction. It did, but this time the swell was too big and she slid right past the stacked pots and into the pot launcher. It caught her just beneath her breasts, square across the diaphragm, knocking the breath out of her. Kate caught her breath just in time to hold it beneath the wave of spray that swept over the rail and poured ice-cold water inside her collar and down her spine. Gasping, she shook her head. When her eyes cleared she saw Seth Skinner grinning at her, his teeth a white slash in his bearded face. "Nice day!" he shouted. It was the longest sentence she'd ever heard him speak.
"Couldn't ask for nicer!" she shouted back, and fought her way over to where Andy was baiting. Together they baited the last pot, and Kate began coiling the twenty-five-fathom shots of five-eighth-inch polypropylene line while Andy checked the buoys. Each pot had three, one Styrofoam buoy and two air- filled plastic buoys, all painted a painfully fluorescent orange and each with the boat's name and registration number lettered on it in sloppy but legible black paint. Finishing with the buoys, he set his shoulder to the pot at the end of the row and reached around for the line fastening the pot down.
"No," Kate shouted, "wait for the next swell."
"What?" His usually fresh face was exhausted and uncomprehending.
He bent to shove and she grabbed his arm. "No," she shouted again, "wait. Wait."
The word penetrated, and dumbly, he waited.
The next swell was a big one, the biggest one yet. When she'd rolled as far as she was going to, the Avilda's portside gunnel was again awash, the water boiling over the railing. She hesitated there for a long, long moment. Kate knew enough of the old girl's construction to know that they'd loaded enough crab so that the Avilda was carrying sufficient ballast. Kate hoped. Just the same, she strained against the list of the deck, as if by pulling hard enough against the pot she could right the boat by her efforts alone. It was entirely involuntary, a human rebellion against this unnatural tilting of the world, and if she'd been able to look around she would have seen the rest of the crew, their faces screwed into similar fearful grimaces, straining just as hard against the nearest available surface.
The Avilda hesitated a moment longer, and then the swell passed beneath her keel and she heeled over with a rush. "Now!" Kate shouted. "Shove! Hard!"
Together, she and Andy shoved, hard, and the pot screeched across the deck, to be caught by Seth, who in a few deft movements had it attached to the hoist. He raised it to the pot launcher, Kate fastened off the shots of line and Andy lined up the buoys. Ned craned his neck and caught the nod from the bridge, and shifted the lever that tilted the pot launcher so that the pot slid over the side to crash into the heaving sea and begin its rapid journey to the muddy ocean floor some three hundred feet below. Kate heaved the coil of line after it, Andy the buoys. The process was repeated with the remaining five pots. After thirty—or was it forty?—straight hours of practice, the crew was moving well together, more of a team now, working about eight pots per hour. In good weather the really good boat crews worked between fourteen and eighteen pots per hour, but she didn't think this was one of them, and it sure as hell wasn't good weather, so they had done pretty well. She was almost proud of their performance. Just not enough to make a vocation out of it. She stretched, barely repressing a groan. Her body felt like a hockey puck after a sudden death play-off.
The skipper, a short, broad man with a short, broad face drawn into a perpetual scowl, appeared on the catwalk outside the bridge. He shouted and the deck boss looked up. The skipper made a circling motion with one forefinger.
The deck boss stuck up his thumb in reply and went aft, where he tossed out a short line with nothing on the end of it, letting it dangle down the side of the boat and trail in their wake. It was the signal they had all been waiting for. On the bridge the skipper took a couple of turns on the wheel, and plunging and rolling as she came crossways of the heavy swell, the Avilda began to come about. Kate began gathering and coiling lines as the others stored the rest of the bait, secured the pots that needed mending, and replaced the hatch cover.
Dinner that night was whatever came to hand first. Kate, choking a little on the last bite of her peanut butter and grape jelly sandwich, stumbled through the door of her stateroom, feeling her way, eyes already closed in anticipation of hitting her bunk. Her foot tangled in something and she tripped and nearly fell. "What the hell?" Her bloodshot gaze peered around malevolently and encountered something that looked like a tent made out of a bedsheet, draped over three lengths of welding rod tied together in a kind of teepee frame.
Andy's sun-streaked mop of blond hair poked out of a fold of cloth. "It's okay, Kate, it's only me."
She stood where she was, swaying. "What the hell are you doing pitching a tent in the middle of the goddam floor? What's wrong with your bunk?"
He crawled out on all fours and rose to his feet. "It's not a tent, it's a pyramid."
"It's a what?" she said stupidly.
"A pyramid," he repeated. "I was reinforcing my prana." "Reinforcing your what?"
"Reinforcing my prana." Andy picked up the top of the tent and it collapsed into a limp cylinder of linen and rods. "It's got the same ratio of structure as the pyramid at Giza."
Kate was very, very tired, or she never would have asked. "What's prana?"
He set the pyramid in a corner and looked at her, very solemn, very earnest. "Prana is the universal life force. All energy derives from it. It brings together East and West, the spiritual and physical. The pyramid concentrates that energy, and I meditate beneath it, thus enhancing my own personal prana." He stretched and yawned. "Long shift. Think I'll turn in." He climbed into the top bunk and burrowed beneath the covers. "Get the light, would you?"
Kate Shugak Mysteries
See Kate Shugak Mysteries
More by Dana Stabenow


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Q: AsyncTaskLoader for loader and background thread getting ClassCastException when converting to androidx My Code:
@Override
protected void onCreate(Bundle savedInstanceState) {
    super.onCreate(savedInstanceState);
    setContentView(R.layout.activity_main);

    ArrayList<BookData> arrayList = new ArrayList<>();
    recyclerAdapter = new RecyclerAdapter(this,arrayList);
    recyclerview = (RecyclerView)findViewById(R.id.recyclerView);
                   recyclerview.setLayoutManager(new
    LinearLayoutManager(this));
    recyclerview.setAdapter(recyclerAdapter);

    android.app.LoaderManager loaderManager = getLoaderManager();
    Log.i(TAG, "Now calling initLoader");
    loaderManager.initLoader(BOOK_LOADER_ID, null, this);

    DividerItemDecoration dividerItemDecoration = new
    DividerItemDecoration(this,DividerItemDecoration.VERTICAL);
    recyclerview.addItemDecoration(dividerItemDecoration);
}

@NonNull
@Override
public Loader<List<BookData>> onCreateLoader(int id, @Nullable Bundle args) {
    Log.i(TAG,"Problem with onCreateloader");
    return new BookLoader(MainActivity.this,GOOGLEBOOKURL);
}

@Override
public void onLoadFinished(@NonNull Loader<List<BookData>> loader, List<BookData> data) {
    recyclerAdapter.clear();
    if (data != null && !data.isEmpty()) {
        recyclerAdapter.addAll(data);
    }
}

@Override
public void onLoaderReset(@NonNull Loader<List<BookData>> loader) {
    recyclerAdapter.clear();
    Log.i(TAG, "Now loader is resetting");
}

Screenshot showing the class definition
Errors:
Process: com.example.booklistapp, PID: 8575
java.lang.RuntimeException: Unable to start activity ComponentInfo{com.example.booklistapp/com.example.booklistapp.MainActivity}: java.lang.ClassCastException: com.example.booklistapp.MainActivity cannot be cast to android.app.LoaderManager$LoaderCallbacks
                    at android.app.ActivityThread.performLaunchActivity(ActivityThread.java:2665)
                    at android.app.ActivityThread.handleLaunchActivity(ActivityThread.java:2726)
                    at android.app.ActivityThread.-wrap12(ActivityThread.java)
                    at android.app.ActivityThread$H.handleMessage(ActivityThread.java:1477)
                    at android.os.Handler.dispatchMessage(Handler.java:102)

I'm trying to solve this errors that I'm getting and in androidx, but there is no initloader() and getManager() to invoke the loader. How do I invoke the loader via initloader?
 android.app.LoaderManager loaderManager = getLoaderManager();
            Log.i(TAG, "Now calling initLoader");
            loaderManager.initLoader(BOOK_LOADER_ID, null, this);

I used android app loader in androidx loader because there is no initLoader() and getManager() in androidx.
Thank you.

A: I have loaders working in androidx:
My imports look like:
import androidx.loader.app.LoaderManager;
import androidx.loader.content.CursorLoader;
import androidx.loader.content.Loader;
import androidx.fragment.app.ListFragment;

Fragments are like:
public class MyFragment extends ListFragment implements LoaderManager.LoaderCallbacks<List<BookData>> {

Activities are like:
public class ProfileActivity extends AppCompatActivity implements LoaderManager.LoaderCallbacks<List<BookData>>  {

You will need AppCompatActivity:
import androidx.appcompat.app.AppCompatActivity;

And need to call getSupportLoaderManager() not getLoaderManager():
LoaderManager lm = getActivity().getSupportLoaderManager();

But ideally you want to get rid of Loaders while they were a cornerstone of development, they are now deprecated.

redpajama_set_name: RedPajamaStackExchange


text:
Q: How to combine 'if' and 'else' code using cmd? I wanted to create an if and else statement for the code provided below. The code should work as follow:
When running the batch code, it will find out whether the path has been written on the addon.cfg file or not. If it has not been written yet, then the batch file will write the path. If the path is present, then it will delete the path completely.
The batch code is a as below:
@Echo Off
SetLocal EnableExtensions DisableDelayedExpansion

Set "Key=HKLM\SOFTWARE\Lockheed Martin\Prepar3D v4"
Set "Val=SetupPath"

For %%A In (Cmd Reg)Do Set "%%A=%SystemRoot%\System32\%%A.exe"
If Defined PROCESSOR_ARCHITEW6432 Set "Cmd=%SystemRoot%\SysNative\cmd.exe"
Set "Dir="
For /F "Tokens=2*" %%A In ('
    ""%Cmd%" /D /C ""%Reg%" Query "%Key%" /V "%Val%" 2^>Nul""')Do Set "Dir=%%~B"
If Not Defined Dir GoTo :EOF
If "%Dir:~-1%"=="\" Set "Dir=%Dir:~,-1%"
REM VARMA Scenery Designs Batch Script for Prepar3D V4
REM Add the current Folder to the Addon Library (add-on.cfg)
set args=-Configure: Category=Add-on Package, Operation=Add, FileLocation=ProgramData, Path=%cd%
start "" "%Dir%\Prepar3D.exe" "%args%"

The if and else code should be something like this:
if  addon == ""
   set args=-Configure: Category=Add-on Package, Operation=Add, FileLocation=ProgramData, Path=%cd%
else
   set args=-Configure: Category=Add-on Package, Operation=Remove, FileLocation=ProgramData, Path=%cd%

But, I am not sure what values/codes should be inside the "" on if addon == ""
[Edit/]
The addon.cfg file is located on C:\ProgramData\Lockheed Martin\Prepar3D v4.
The batch file will look for addon.xml file (this file will have some details where Prepar3D should look for the scenery files from) in the same location where the batch file is placed. That is why the the path is written as Path=%cd% in the above code.
Sample code in addon.cfg file:
[Package.0]
PATH=F:\Flight Simulators\Addon\Scenery Making Tools\WMKM Model\WMKM Airport Design\Melaka International Airport (WMKM)\P3D V4\Melaka International Airport (WMKM)
ACTIVE=true
REQUIRED=false

Sample code in addon.xml file:
<SimBase.Document Type="AddOnXml" version="4,0" id="add-on">
  <AddOn.Name>VARMA Scenery Designs-(WMKM) Melaka International Airport</AddOn.Name>
  <AddOn.Description>Scenery for (WMKM) Melaka International Airport by VARMA Scenery Designs</AddOn.Description>

  <!--
  add-on.xml will work "first read first in" such that the last component read will be on top.
  -->

  <AddOn.Component>
    <Category>Scenery</Category>
    <Path>scenery</Path>
    <Name>VARMA Scenery Designs-WMKM scenery</Name>
  </AddOn.Component>

</SimBase.Document>

You may refer here for the add-on configuration file details with some examples.

A: Here's a code example for you:
@Echo Off
If Defined PROCESSOR_ARCHITEW6432 (
    Start "" /D "%__CD__%" "%SystemRoot%\SysNative\cmd.exe" /C "%~f0"&Exit /B)
SetLocal EnableExtensions DisableDelayedExpansion
Set "Key=HKLM\SOFTWARE\Lockheed Martin\Prepar3D v4"
Set "Val=SetupPath"
Set "Dir="
For /F "Tokens=2*" %%A In ('Reg Query "%Key%" /V "%Val%" 2^>Nul'
)Do Set "Dir=%%~B"
If Not Defined Dir GoTo :EOF
If "%Dir:~-1%"=="\" Set "Dir=%Dir:~,-1%"
Set "Cfg=Lockheed Martin\Prepar3D v4\add-ons.cfg"
Set "Pad=%~dp0"
Set "Pth=%Pad:~,-1%"
Set "Arg=-Configure: Category=Add-on Package, Path=%Pth:,=,%"
Set "Act=Add"
Rem Enter your FileLocation below. [ProgramData|Local|Roaming]
Set "Lcn=ProgramData"
If /I "%Lcn%"=="ProgramData" Set "Cfg=%ProgramData%\%Cfg%"
If /I "%Lcn%"=="Local" Set "Cfg=%LocalAppData%\%Cfg%"
If /I "%Lcn%"=="Roaming" Set "Cfg=%AppData%\%Cfg%"
If Exist "%Cfg%" Find /I "PATH=%Pth%"<"%Cfg%">Nul&&Set "Act=Remove"
Set "Arg=%Arg%, FileLocation=%Lcn%, Operation=%Act%"
Start "" "%Dir%\Prepar3D.exe" "%Arg%"

Please note that I have added a Remarked line with an instruction, whilst not necessary for the purposes of this specific task, it affords you the opportunity to adjust the location for the other two possible options.

A: @Echo Off
REM Batch Script for Prepar3D V4
REM Search for the installation path of Prepar3D v4 in registry
If Defined PROCESSOR_ARCHITEW6432 (
    Start "" /D "%__CD__%" "%SystemRoot%\SysNative\cmd.exe" /C "%~f0"&Exit /B)
SetLocal EnableExtensions DisableDelayedExpansion
Set "Key=HKLM\SOFTWARE\Lockheed Martin\Prepar3D v4"
Set "Val=SetupPath"
Set "Dir="
For /F "Tokens=2*" %%A In ('Reg Query "%Key%" /V "%Val%" 2^>Nul'
)Do Set "Dir=%%~B"
If Not Defined Dir GoTo :EOF
If "%Dir:~-1%"=="\" Set "Dir=%Dir:~,-1%"

REM 'Add' or 'Remove' the current Folder 'To' or 'From' the Addon Library (add-on.cfg)
find /c "%cd%" "C:\ProgramData\Lockheed Martin\Prepar3D v4\add-ons.cfg"
if %errorlevel% equ 1 goto notfound
echo found
Set args="-Configure: Category=Add-on Package, Operation=Remove, FileLocation=ProgramData, Path=%cd%"
goto done
:notfound
echo notfound
Set args="-Configure: Category=Add-on Package, Operation=Add, FileLocation=ProgramData, Path=%cd%"
goto done
:done
start "" "%Dir%\Prepar3D.exe" "%args%"


text:
From the Hac's Seat
Fun & Dumb Things in Flying Machines
The Josh Haman Book Series
Jaco Jacinto Age of Sail Series
Derek Almer Series
BOOKS IN DEVELOPMENT
Writing & Getting Published
Smallpox, Variolation and George Washington
August 2, 2020 | 0
In the late summer of 1775, two U.S. forces entered Canada. One, led by General Richard Montgomery came north from what is now Vermont and captured Montreal and then headed up the St. Lawrence River to Quebec City. There, Montgomery's force was joined by one led by Benedict Arnold that traveled north up the Kenebec River and portaged to the Chaudière River to travel downstream to the St. Lawrence and Quebec City.
The combined force besieged Quebec City and had an excellent chance of taking it. Had they done so, there is a high probability that French Canadians would have joined the revolution bringing to our side.
However, Mother Nature and winter arrived. The besieging force, encamped in primitive conditions was hit with a smallpox epidemic. Of the three thousand men, half died of smallpox and they were forced to withdraw.
Farther south, George Washington, now commander of the Continental Army was well aware of the dangers of smallpox. On a visit to Barbados with his half-brother Lawrence in 1751, Washington contracted smallpox also known as variola.
By the end of the eight years of war (1775 – 1783), 6.500 Americans would die on the battlefield, another 6,100 were wounded yet 17,000 men in Washington's army would die of disease, many of which died of smallpox before 1777. And, smallpox did not just affect the Continental Army. In 1777, records show that approximately 100,000 died of the disease in North America. The numbers are startling, but don't tell the whole story.
Having survived a bout with the deadly disease made Washington aware of the effect smallpox could have on an army. Faced with a smallpox epidemic in the winter of 1777, Washington decided to inoculate his army. In those days, this was no mean feat. By the time the war started, the technique known as variolation had already been proven effective in England.
The procedure was simple. Scabs from smallpox victims were dried, powdered and a small amount rubbed into a minor scratch in the skin. The result was that the individual would have a mild fever, even a few smallpox sores. After a few days, the individual recovered and was immune from the disease.
Purity/quality of the amount ingested varied and the mortality rate was, by 2020 standards, at between .5% and 2.0%. Was it perfect, no, but if one was "variolated," there was a 98% chance one would not contract smallpox. Given the mortality rate of 30-35% for those who contracted the disease, the risk was deemed acceptable.
New recruits into the Continental Army were inoculated immediately after induction. It took until 1778 to get the army fully vaccinated and deaths from smallpox in the Continental Army dropped dramatically.
To vaccinate the army was one of the most important decisions Washington made during the war. Had he not done so, the Continental Army may have been decimated by smallpox. Having lost the war, we would now be British citizens. What is also significant about Washington's decision is that this inoculation program was the first of its kind in the world.
Posted in Blog, Social and Economic and tagged First U.S. national vaccination program, Mass smallpox innoculations save an army
American Revolution Blogs
Social and Economic
The Land of the Bean and the Cod
First Ten Countries to Recognize the New United States of America
Victory Day – Charleston Retaken
Getting to THE Terms of the Treaty of Paris
Getting to Terms That Ended the Revolutionary War
New From the Hac's Seat
The Myths of Autorotations
The Unseen Enemy Hunting Helicopters Hovering Over Water
Joys of Drooping
Humidity, High Temperatures, Altitude and Helicopters Are a Bad Mix
HIFR Decisions
New Fun & Dumb Things in Flying Machines
Under the Verrazano Bridge
Whaddaya Mean No F%&g Ice!!!
Flying One's First Love
We're Going Where?
Pigeons to Rota
Marc Liebman on The Myths of Autorotations
Lee Bennett on The Myths of Autorotations
Marc Liebman on Under the Verrazano Bridge
PRESS Marc is available for interviews, conferences on a limited basis and book signings.
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Der Schwelleneffekt (engl. threshold effect) ist die Eigenschaft bestimmter Substanzen (Schwellensubstanzen), bei sehr niedrigen (sogenannten unterstöchiometrischen) Konzentrationen die Bildung von Niederschlägen zu verhindern oder zumindest stark zu verzögern. Dadurch verhindern Schwellensubstanzen in einer übersättigten Lösung die Bildung eines unlöslichen Niederschlages, indem sie die Oberfläche der sich zuerst bildenden Mikrokristalle durch Adsorption blockieren, sodass sich keine größeren Kristalle durch Anlagerung bilden können. Daraus resultiert zum Beispiel die Stabilisierung von amorphem und kolloidalem Calciumcarbonat in Lösungen, das heißt, die kristalline, unlösliche Calcitbildung wird verzögert.

Schwellensubstanzen können z. B. als Additive in Waschmittel für die Dauer des Waschvorgangs die Bildung von Wäscheinkrustationen durch schwerlösliche Verbindungen (Calcium- und Magnesiumcarbonat) im Wasser durch Verzögerung der Fällung verhindern. Als Additive sind unter anderem Verbindungen aus der Gruppe der niedermolekularen Phosphonate und der höhermolekularen Komplexbildner (z. B. Polycarboxylate), die auch als Builder in Waschmittel eingesetzt werden, geeignet.

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