Smaller and easier to handle than large cauliflower, this miniature version of the cauliflower vegetable only measures about 16 - 18 cm in diameter. Nestled in firm-textured edible green leaves, the cauliflower's curd, or head, is made up of thick tightly packed clusters of light lime green flower buds. The heads of green cauliflower are also referred to as "buttons". The flavor of this tender vegetable has notes of both cauliflower and broccoli and lacks the bitterness that can sometimes be found in large cauliflower.
Baby Green cauliflower's peak season is in fall and winter.
Historically there are over 100 documented varieties of cauliflower, most of which are white in color. However, growers and plant breeders continue to produce new varieties. One of the newest members of the family is broccoflower, a cross between cauliflower and broccoli, which is also known simply as cauliflower broccoli.
Green cauliflower is high in both fiber and vitamin C. It also contains selenium, which works with Vitamin C to boost the immune system as well as a fair amount of vitamin A, folate, calcium and potassium. It also contains high levels of phytochemicals know as glucosinolates which scientists believe will help prevent the onset of certain types of cancer.
Green cauliflower is excellent in both raw and cooked preparations. It can be sauteed, roasted, fried or steamed. Roasting will enhance its flavor. Segmented raw florets can be added to pasta and grain based salads. Its miniature size is perfect for making pickled cauliflower. Pair with cream based dips and serve whole heads of baby Green cauliflower on crudite platters or roast and serve whole as a main vegetarian entree. The flavor of baby Green cauliflower pairs well with cumin, curry, garlic, onion, parmigiano cheese and pine nuts. Use within a few days of purchase for optimal freshness, texture and flavor. To store, wrap head in a perforated plastic bag and refrigerate in crisper drawer. Do not wash until ready to use.
Thriving in cool moist areas, the California central coast and the coastal areas of New York State produce top quality cauliflower varieties. California is the leading supplier followed by Arizona. New York, Michigan, Oregon and Texas also contribute to the nation's supply.


"Lip Sync Battle Shorties" returns for season two tonight, October 19th @ 8:30PM EST on Nickelodeon.
Today is no ordinary Friday. Lip Sync Battle Shorties is back for another season!
You heard right. Starting tonight, JoJo Siwa will be joining Nick Cannon and a group of kids for the once again for the ultimate lip sync showdown. Similar to Spike's Lip Sync Battle, the series features real kids lip-syncing pop songs in celebration of their favorite artists, while competing for the iced-out Shorties mic.
Each performance comes straight from the participants' imagination, allowing them to personalize all creative elements from song and costume selection to epic dance moves and eccentric themes.
In the video below, we put JoJo to one of the biggest tests of all — her own lip sync challenge to none other than Bruno Mars' "That's What I Like!" See how she did by watching the video and don't forget to leave your reaction by clicking the buttons at the bottom of the post.
Lip Sync Battle Shorties returns tonight, October 19th @ 8:30PM on Nickelodeon.


Car repairs are 1 of most irritating concerns that a man or woman has to deal with. Obtaining understanding guarantees your automobile is repaired effectively. The pursuing write-up will give you some wonderful car mend guidelines to get you back again in your car and on the street more rapidly.
Keeping a battery charger in your vehicle is a very good protection expense. Lifeless batteries are pretty widespread and you can support other folks if you personal a battery charger. Make certain you learn the details on your auto the place the battery charger must be related.
Do not underestimate how important it is to hold an crisis package inside your car. A battery charger, tire altering instruments and an additional can of gas are just a number of of the objects to have on hand. For night time time breakdowns, make positive to consist of warm blankets and a flashlight with further batteries.
You never constantly have to phone a mechanic when your auto is supplying your difficulties. You can correct some things easily. Have a look on the Net and see if you can narrow down what the situation could be. It isn't really all that hard, and you can actually save tons of money by fixing your automobile your self.
A fantastic way to get a great mechanic is by inquiring all around. Appear to your family members, friends, and colleagues for their ideas. You can learn about the top quality of work, the pricing and if they were pleased with the provider. People will let you know what kind of factors they experienced to offer with and if the person was truthful.
There is little doubt that getting your car crack down is very annoying. Currently being ready can help you to hold calm in the encounter of car repair nightmares. Make use of this tips the subsequent time that your automobile requirements repairs.


Detached 4 Bedroom Villa with Private Pool, close to Beaches, Golf Courses & International Schools.
This fabulous detached villa is located in a peaceful residential area of Lagos, close to many Algarve beaches and golf courses.
It is the perfect place to relax and enjoy the Algarvean lifestyle, so it is the ideal property for a permanent family home, or as a holiday rental home.
The huge basement of this spacious Algarve villa consists of a spacious garage offering plenty of storage space, laundry area and a further bathroom. It is accessible from the swimming pool area, and from inside the property.
The villa is equipped with central heating and alarm system.
The location of this villa offers golf lovers many opportunities, with some of the Algarve's best golf courses within a 15 minutes drive, including Boavista, Parque da Floresta (Santo Antonio), the famous Onyria Palmares Course, Espiche Golf. Plus, Pestana Alto course and Penina Golf, between Lagos and Portimão.
There are numerous beaches nearby, from the centrally located Meia Praia to the picturesque Dona Ana, Camilo and Porto de Mos. Lagos enjoys a beautiful coastline and is home to the famous Ponte da Piedade, an area of outstanding natural beauty and from where you can enjoy fabulous cliff top walks, boat trips and guided tours.
There is convenient access to the A22 motorway from this area, to reach Faro Airport in 45 minutes.
Request details for Detached 4 Bedroom Villa with Private Pool, close to Beaches, Golf Courses & International Schools.
Email friend about Detached 4 Bedroom Villa with Private Pool, close to Beaches, Golf Courses & International Schools.
Report Listing for Detached 4 Bedroom Villa with Private Pool, close to Beaches, Golf Courses & International Schools.


If you need any more evidence that we live in the digital age – for good – consider traffic gridlock, and how digital media is being used to deal with it.
Traffic in major metropolitan areas has never been worse. Here in the San Francisco Bay Area it's a constant problem. One digital angle is that the tech boom has done so much for the local economy, a good thing, it's resulted in mega traffic issues, a bad thing. So many of the highways still have short suicide ramps and other outmoded aspects. There's not enough space and money to build new roads and transit building is stalled, so Californians are looking to digital technology for relief.
Technology can help, with travel-time estimates posted on electronic sign boards, ramp metering and increased use of the FasTrak instant toll pay system at Bay Area bridges. But for now, our primary weapon against getting stuck in traffic is Google Maps. We don't leave home without it. It colors roads red, yellow and green to tell us what to avoid, or how long we'll be delayed. Google also incorporates social media reports of "incidents," a nice word for horrific crashes.
If the color is gray, there's not enough data, but that never happens. There's always data, because there are always Android cell phone users driving nearly everywhere. When you turn on Google Maps and accept GPS tracking, you beam information back to Google on where and how fast your phone is traveling. Google uses the combined mass of phone data to give a fairly accurate idea of traffic. It's not always on the money but it catches up pretty soon.
Google – for us it's "the lady" voice in our phones – suggests alternate routes, and we've gone on some wild rides through the back streets in order to avoid gridlock. We also worry about too many Google users taking the alternate route at once and creating another jam, something we've experienced. The engineers are working on an algorithm that will reroute some users and not others.
Of course Californians are to blame for a lot of their accidents and resulting jams. As a newcomer to this area, I've noticed a few aspects to their driving. I often wonder what a Californian would choose given the options of a fantastic dinner, dream round of golf at Pebble or Cypress Point, or a stretch of clear concrete on the freeway ahead. I'm not so sure they wouldn't choose the latter.
Tailgating is a way of life out here. There is never a point when you are driving, anywhere, when a car isn't following closely behind you. Always. Someone else always drives faster than you, and there is always someone who drives faster than the hell-bent-for-leather guy passing you. Everyone is in a hurry. Even if there are brake lights ahead, drivers, particularly pick-up trucks, will gun it until they are forced to stop. The HOV lane on the left is actually a super speed lane. It's not for HOV. Find yourself sandwiched between the ubiquitous median barrier and three semis with a few feet of room on either side? No problem, drive 75 and hope your car doesn't become a metal pinball.
Google says it tries to keep the information it collects on how fast that phone in your car is traveling anonymous. If you looked at the speeds on an average California highway, they'd all be 15 or 30 miles above the limit. Can you imagine authorities giving e-tickets to drivers based on phone monitoring?
My nephew is a Ph.D. candidate at Stanford University, with an emphasis on aerospace engineering. He's researching applications of GPS. I asked him about digital media, technology and traffic and he answered that self-driving cars are the hottest thing going on there, primarily being developed by Google.
A world of self-driving cars going the speed limit is attractive. With regular, constant speeds it would seemingly be more orderly and predictable. The problems are many, however, according to published reports. Human drivers can't coexist with driverless cars. The humans would take advantage, speeding by the self-drivers – yes, breaking the law as U.S. drivers do every day – and the resulting confusion causes accidents.
Software glitches are an issue. And just like California drivers, the cars can't respond to weather conditions, even rain. The cars can't make judgments about situations to react to as they are presented. Roads haven't been minutely mapped to give the cars the data they need. The cars can't respond well to construction signs and detours, stopping totally if they sense a problem. They can't judge whether a person on the side of the road needs help. Heck, they can't even avoid a pothole.
My nephew, Kazuma Gunning, said: "Google's implementation has some $75,000 worth of sensors sitting on top that are obviously prohibitively expensive. However, the advancements that they're making in reducing the cost of the navigation sensors will propagate to other uses in time.
"One of the primary challenges in autonomous vehicles is precise positioning. A basic GPS receiver, such as that in your smart phone, will provide a positioning accuracy of about three meters. For a self-driving car, this is not enough. It won't even tell you what lane you're in.
"Google's implementation of the self-driving car uses a combination of LIDAR (laser radar), precise GPS (likely requiring a base station in the general area to talk to), and of course a great deal of cameras to see street signs, pedestrians, other cars, et cetera," Gunning added.
It doesn't sound like self-driving cars are coming around the street corner any time soon. Yet my nephew and other would-be futurists say self-driving cars are the future. Maybe, and that and other digital technology is helping us manage traffic gridlock better. But for now, most of the time there's little we can do about too many cars on the road at the same time.


This study examined the descriptive relationship of self-rated health (SRH) with various psychosocial measures, sociodemographic variables, coronary artery disease (CAD) diagnostic/clinical measures, and medically abstracted comorbidities.The sample was 2,855 individuals from the Mediators of Social Support (MOSS) study who had at least 75% narrowing in more than one vessel, as indicated by a cardiac catheterization.After adjusting for sociodemographic factors, individuals who rated their health as poor/fair had significantly worse performance on all psychosocial measures and were more likely to be female, non-White, and of a lower socioeconomic status than those who rated their health as being good or better. There were few differences on SRH across various diagnostic/clinical measures of health.A single item measure of SRH may be useful; the generalizability of the item must be considered. In this sample of CAD patients, SRH was related more to psychosocial factors than to clinical and disease indicators.


text:
655 W Lorraine Avenue, Elmhurst, IL, 60126
Courtesy of: Century 21 Affiliated
Emerson Elementary SchoolElementary School
Address: 655 W Lorraine Avenue
Neighborhood: Elmhurst
Well built 3 bedroom 1 bath home needs to be perked up with your decorating ideas. Enjoy award winning schools, great access to expressways. Walk to beautiful Berens Park. Sold in as-is condition or buy for land and build new. Bring your builder and see the endless possibilities to build your dream home on this 50 X 190 lot.This size lot will allow for an expansive backyard for the kids.
Courtesy of: Century 21 Affiliated Based on information submitted to the MRED as of date and time shown below. All data is obtained from various sources and has not been, and will not be, verified by broker or MRED. MRED supplied Open House information is subject to change without notice. All information should be independently reviewed and verified for accuracy. Properties may or may not be listed by the office/agent presenting the information. © 2022. http://www.mredllc.com/comms/resources/DMCA_Notice.pdf Updated: 29th January, 2023 6:23 AM (UTC)

redpajama_set_name: RedPajamaCommonCrawl


ChirbaChirba is a crowd pleasing food truck specializing in Chinese dumplings. After years of dumpling studies through extensive tasting, pleating and learning secret family recipes, they have developed a menu that you will love! Check out their web page here!


Recently, we introduced a CEREC machine to our office. This device allows us to skip past the 'temporary' part of your treatment plan and walk out with a fixed permanent the same day as your appointment. Let's be honest, a lot of us are busy professionals, parents, or students, and sometimes all three at the same time! None of us have time to take two or three visits to complete our treatment plan. I can now give you full, start to finish, same day dentistry.
There are actually a large number of creative uses for floss, as I covered in this blog post, but did you know that there are other uses for toothpaste, other than brushing your teeth?
If you sleep with dentures, this might be something you want to reconsider. A recent study showed that a combination of poor oral health and sleep with dentures increased the chances a patient; in particular, a senior citizen may contract pneumonia. Other risk factors included cognitive decline, stroke, and other common health problems associated with patients with advanced periodontal disease.
Oral surgery aftercare is an important part of your dental health. While most people would like to avoid it, the reality is the vast majority of us are likely to have some form of minor or major dental surgery in our lifetimes. There are a few things in particular that set dental surgery apart from other forms of surgery that need to be accounted for during your recovery.
In a potentially controversial finding by The Scandinavian Journal of Medicine & Science in Sports and reported by the New York Times, heavy exercise and training may give you unhealthy teeth . The positive effects of exercise and regular physical activity cannot be overstated.
The International and American Associations for Dental Research released a paper detailing how dental implants can have a higher failure rate in patients who are taking SSRIs anti-depressants. These drugs have become extremely popular in North America over the past several decades, but have well-documented and tracked side effects.


Learn how not to outlive your money and how taxes and inflation impact retirement. Discuss stretch IRAs and RMDs and the benefits of having an "Exit Strategy". Explore Long-Term Care Considerations and tools on preparing for a secure retirement in an ever-changing economy.


Most people don't initially visit a Chiropractor until they are already in pain and are seeking relief. As discussed in the "Wellness Care" section, there are many substantial benefits to regular chiropractic care aside from relief from existing pain. In addition to the other many health benefits, regular Wellness Care is recommended to proactively prevent injury and pain from occurring and/or, after healing and pain relief is reached, to prevent re-injury. Nevertheless, chiropractic care is quite often effective in promoting healing and achieving relief from pain when such injury does occur.
When chiropractic care is sought for injury and pain, treatment can generally be divided into three distinct and separate stages. These stages generally describe the reaction to a musculoskeletal injury and are the "Acute Stage", the "Sub-Acute Stage" and the "Chronic Stage".
The acute stage is defined as the period immediately following the injury and normally lasts 48-72 hours (although some patients remain in this stage for a week or more). During this stage, the primary characteristic is inflammation. A clinical characteristic is the presence of pain in the early part of the range of motion. Even the slightest movement may cause pain. Treatment during this stage is largely directed at pain relief, controlling swelling, and supporting or protecting injured tissue. Recovery is usually quicker and more complete for the patient when he or she seeks chiropractic intervention during this stage.
Inflammation, pain, and spasms are reduced in the office and home care advice is given. The treatment during this stage usually involves multiple visits to move the patient from pain relief to the second stage, the Sub-Acute stage. Physiotherapeutic modalities, such as ice, electrical muscle stimulation, and ultrasound, are quite often used in this stage.
After passing fairly quickly through the Acute stage, the body begins to change directions from a physiologic point of view. The body turns its attention from controlling the impact of the injury to the task of healing and repair. This stage may last several weeks with a variable time frame depending on the patient and the type and extent of injury. During this stage, there is a gradual reduction of inflammation and pain. There is also a gradually increasing degree of pain-free motion, with pain present near the end of the range of motion. Many patients remain in pain during this stage; therefore, the increase in function may be used as a reasonable guideline to monitor the patient's progress. The primary characteristic of this stage is the presence of fragile, re-injured tissue. Unfortunately, as the symptoms and pain subside during this period, some patients exceed their functional limitations and exacerbate his or her condition, causing the patient to re-enter the Acute stage. Some patients will vacillate several times between these stages. Additionally, compliance with care tends to fall off as the patient begins to feel better. It is, however, important to follow through with a treatment plan to avoid returning to the Acute stage.
In addition to spinal adjustments, a variety of other techniques, including soft tissue techniques, rehabilitative exercises, and stretching ergonomics, are often used to restore proper function so the patient is not limited in his or her daily living activities.
For some patients, recovery is delayed or incomplete and the chronic stage is entered. These conditions, by their very nature, are long-lasting and may last for several months or even years. Professional opinion varies as to when a particular problem enters the chronic stage. It is, however, usually agreed that a condition that is not showing continued signs of improvement at 6-7 weeks should be considered chronic.
During this stage, shortened connective tissue in the form of fibrosis and adhesions are the primary characteristic. Pain is present at the end of range of motion, although the total range of motion may be reduced.
"In a study funded by NIH's National Center for Complementary and Alternative Medicine to test the effectiveness of different approaches for treating mechanical neck pain, 272 participants were divided into three groups that received either spinal manipulative therapy (SMT) from a doctor of chiropractic (DC), pain medication (over-the-counter pain relievers, narcotics and muscle relaxants) or exercise recommendations.


Notre Dame Cathedral has burst into flames.
It's always terrible for such a fate to befall a cornerstone of history. I hope for the best for the cathedral and all who are close to it.
Well, if they were able to rebuild The Dresden Frauenkirche after world war 2 I'm sure that they can rebuild Notre Dame.
Very concerning. Since it's stone-masonry, it won't be impossible to restore. But there was a lot of woodwork inside, including the ornamentation of the high altar, which took up basically the entire east end. But this isn't like the old St. Peter's which burned down just in time for the great architectural Renaissance to build it back up even better than before. Now, Church architecture is God-awful. Because it is a national treasure, I suspect they won't dare to try and "improve" anything. It might even be that the French ministry in charge of national treasures has a better sense of architecture than the French Catholic hierarchy, and in the restoration of the cathedral, they will refrain from replacing some of the modern additions, like the table altar in the middle, or the pews.
A small solace is that there are hundreds of cathedrals, basilicas, monasteries, and even parish Churches scattered throughout France which are just as significant to the people who live near them. It is a great loss to France and the Church, but there are others. There are even other cathedrals in France with Notre Dame as patroness. It's like half of them I think.
Sancta Maria Mater Dei, ora pro nobis peccatoribus, nunc et in hora mortis nostrae.
Assuming the fire was caused naturally, this is a reminder that we will all die, and all of the things we do will come to nothing, even our greatest works, even the works that most closely mimic the heavenly. This should not discourage us from doing great things, but to constantly keep our mortality and the shortness of our lives in mind. We will all die.
Technically this spire wasn't "original" anyways; it was built in the 19th century.
Somewhat true but the value itself will still be lost, so the " real thing" won't be quite the same. Maybe with the new revision the new " value" will be made in the next 80 years. But the value that made this building what it is for many years, is lost. Best not to delude ourselves to think yeah " we can rebuild it again no big deal". That's great and all, but it's like an artist who draw his first art and put a lot of value to it. Then was asks to make a copy... 50 copies later the value is no longer there. But I'm just grateful though that all is not lost.
Best not to delude ourselves to think yeah " we can rebuild it again no big deal".
They saved enough of it that they will be able to rebuild. Donations will be accepted from everywhere apparently.
The idea that rebuilding it anew wouldn't be the same doesn't hold much water to me. The only reason we think this is because it's us living in the now. It wouldn't be the same TO US. To our descendants, different story. Much of the art was saved, and new art can be made. What is a major tragedy for us now will be seen as an interesting part of the history of Notre Dame for our posterity a few hundred years down the road. Chin up lads.
"During the construction of Notre dame cathedral a carpenter was working on a relief on the roof. Another worker asked why he was adding so much detail, "no one from the ground will ever see this why does it matter." The carpenter replied that God sees.
Its a testament to what a true work of art Notre dame was.
Famous architect mies van der rohe famously said; "God is in the details." Notre dame connected people to God for over 700 years. Humanity truly has suffered a great loss today.
I wasn't quite referring to you I was talking about anyone in general who believes that rebuilding broken art will restore it's value, while it's not quite true. Appearances and making new memory yes, but the old ones is dead.
This seems too unreal to be true.
It's tragic to see such a thing happen to such a valuable piece of history. I hope at least some of it will be salvaged from this unfortunate event.
I wonder why renovating old buildings is a common cause of fires, don't they have safety precautions that would prevent this? Evidently, those precautions aren't enough to prevent such fires.
Of course they do, but accidents can always happen.
I can only imagine that this is going to fire up political tensions and people are going to blame it on terrorists or something.
People are trying, apparently, but there's also people trying to fight it and get the word out that something like that is a hoax.
-New York without the Statue of Liberty.
-Sydney without the Opera House.
This was all over the local evening news last night, without a doubt an unfortunate tragedy. I hope they can rebuild, and I'm sure they will, at least enough. I just didn't catch WHAT exactly caused it?
Its a sad day in the History Of Heritage. True they can rebuild however it will never ever come close to the Real History of the Original.
This is a Tragic sad day in the faith of Christianity.
It was most likely a construction accident. Due to the fact that Notre Dame Cathedral was constructed with ancient wood, it is extremely flammable, so any electric tools put it at risk of bursting into flames. There is no conclusive culprit or cause, but this is the most likely scenario.
I saw that too and just despite of all the hellfire there's beauty that comes right after it.
*ahem.....Sorry if I have place my belief on this but after seeing that,I know that God wouldn't want the whole church to go down in flame but rather have it be saved. It's gives me the symbolic meaning that God is always there and standing to take away the evil.
And can you believe how stupid Donald Trump was for suggesting using water bombing aircraft to put out the fire? Sure it would have put out the fire faster but would cause the whole place to collapse making the damage even worse. It already had 400 firefighters doing what they're trained to do.
Okay, I am going to come out of left field and give a different view on this. I fully understand that this building has been around for a long, long time and that gives it a lot of historical value for many. I get that. What I find so very odd is the reaction to this entire thing. The building is still structurally sound, it did suffer a lot of damage that needs repairing, but it could have been far worse. Yet, all over the world, entire governments are now pouring money into helping repair the building as well as many other fundraising ventures. We are talking at minimum over $1 billion worth so far and it is probably more by now.
Thing is, isn't the catholic church (which I believe this building is for) unbelievably wealthy? Don't they take in countless amounts of money every year tax free? I would think they are easily wealthy enough to fund these repairs by themselves without even suffering any major financial loss. You take that into account, along with the fact that all of this money is being thrown around to fix a church building, while people are still suffering every day from poverty, debts, lack of healthcare, the list can keep going. So I find it strange to see the world band together to fix some religious building for an organization that is simply loaded with money while they let people continue to falter. I personally think this money can go to far more important things.
This gave me a good laugh actually. That is some of that good ol' Donald Trump 'stable genius' intelligence on display. Love it.


Pauh Putra, 29 June 2016 - On 20 June 2016, a get together with RPS was organized at Relax Tomyam, Changlun from 7.00 – 8.30 pm.
Get together RPS student under supervision of Mr Suhizaz Sudin, 20 students.
Get to know the students , some advice for their career and life after graduation.


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text:
using System;

using RabbitMQ.Client;
using RabbitMQ.Client.Events;
using RabbitMQ.Client.Exceptions;

using RabbitMQ.Client.Framing;
using RabbitMQ.Client.Framing.Impl;

namespace RabbitMQ.Client.Impl
{
    ///<summary>Small ISession implementation used during channel quiescing.</summary>
    public class QuiescingSession: SessionBase
    {
        public ShutdownEventArgs m_reason;

        public QuiescingSession(RabbitMQ.Client.Framing.Impl.Connection connection,
                                int channelNumber,
                                ShutdownEventArgs reason)
            : base(connection, channelNumber)
        {
            m_reason = reason;
        }

        public override void HandleFrame(Frame frame)
        {
            if (frame.Type == Constants.FrameMethod) {
                MethodBase method = Connection.Protocol.DecodeMethodFrom(frame.GetReader());
                if ((method.ProtocolClassId == ChannelCloseOk.ClassId)
                    && (method.ProtocolMethodId == ChannelCloseOk.MethodId))
                {
                    // This is the reply we were looking for. Release
                    // the channel with the reason we were passed in
                    // our constructor.
                    Close(m_reason);
                    return;
                }
                else if ((method.ProtocolClassId == ChannelClose.ClassId)
                         && (method.ProtocolMethodId == ChannelClose.MethodId))
                {
                    // We're already shutting down the channel, so
                    // just send back an ok.
                    Transmit(CreateChannelCloseOk());
                    return;
                }

            }

            // Either a non-method frame, or not what we were looking
            // for. Ignore it - we're quiescing.
        }

        protected Command CreateChannelCloseOk() {
            return new Command(new ConnectionCloseOk());
        }
    }
}

redpajama_set_name: RedPajamaGithub


text:
You are here: Home / Motoring News / Tinder Users 'Swipe Right' For Blind Dates In A Mustang
Tinder Users 'Swipe Right' For Blind Dates In A Mustang
January 6, 2017 By Mike Lee
Ford Mustang blind date engages more than 1.5 million people on Tinder app
Special profile page promised those taking part "date you've been waiting for"
Watch five lucky couples get to know each other through questions about "belfies" and tattoos
Cupid had his work cut out as five lucky couples enjoyed blind dates in a Mustang – after more than 1.5 million users interacted with the car on the Tinder app.
The couples were matched up after swiping right on a profile that said: "It's the date you've been waiting for – Ford Mustang wants to take you on a blind date like no other". They then hit the road in London for a date that ended up at a retro drive-in movie for two. Getting to know each other on the way, couples were quizzed by TV comedy star Jarred Christmas on everything from "belfies" to secret tattoos to help break the ice.
"It's got to be a good start to show up for a date in a Ford Mustang. It's an iconic car with a built‑in ability to turn heads" said Jim Farley, executive vice president and president, Europe Middle East and Africa, Ford Motor Company.
"The Mustang forever changed the way that people think about American sports cars. Tinder has changed the way that people meet. It made sense for us to work together and spark some new connections," said Derek Callow, vice president international, Tinder.
About Ford Motor Company
Ford Motor Company is a global automotive and mobility company based in Dearborn, Michigan. With about 203,000 employees and 67 plants worldwide, the company's core business includes designing, manufacturing, marketing and servicing a full line of Ford cars, trucks and SUVs, as well as Lincoln luxury vehicles. To expand its business model, Ford is aggressively pursuing emerging opportunities with investments in electrification, autonomy and mobility. Ford provides financial services through Ford Motor Credit Company.
Ford of Europe is responsible for producing, selling and servicing Ford brand vehicles in 50 individual markets and employs approximately 53,000 employees at its wholly owned facilities and approximately 68,000 people when joint ventures and unconsolidated businesses are included. In addition to Ford Motor Credit Company, Ford Europe operations include Ford Customer Service Division and 24 manufacturing facilities (16 wholly owned or consolidated joint venture facilities and 8 unconsolidated joint venture facilities). The first Ford cars were shipped to Europe in 1903 – the same year Ford Motor Company was founded. European production started in 1911.


378216_10151012118388657_1802178772_n copy - Go Fit Girl! | Go Fit Girl!
Here I am at a "vegetarian" Mexican restaurant called La Buena Tierra. The information we read on the restaurant claimed it was vegetarian. But Curt had fish and I had chicken. Does vegetarian to Mexico City mean no red meat?


text:
Q: vim rand() is not deterministic. Is this expected? According to :help rand(),

rand([{expr}])
        Return a pseudo-random Number generated with an xoshiro128**
          algorithm using seed {expr}.  The returned number is 32 bits,
          also on 64 bits systems, for consistency.
          {expr} can be initialized by srand() and will be updated by
          rand().  If {expr} is omitted, an internal seed value is used
          and updated.

          Examples:
                  :echo rand()
                  :let seed = srand()
                  :echo rand(seed)
                  :echo rand(seed) % 16  " random number 0 - 15

It doesn't explain how a seed is changed every time rand() is called, but I expected it to be deterministically altered because

*

*C++'s std::rand() does so,

*and Wikipedia says

A pseudorandom number generator (PRNG), also known as a deterministic random bit generator (DRBG), is an algorithm...

However, in the code below, the value of a is deterministic but the values of b are not deterministic; they take different values when you restart the script.
let seed = srand(0)
let a = rand(seed) "deterministic
let b = rand() "not deterministic (why?)
echo [a, b]

let seed = [0, 1, 2, 3]
let a = rand(seed) "deterministic
let b = rand() "not deterministic (why?)
echo [a, b]

Is this an expected behavior? I think the behavior contradicts the documentation.

Environments:
~ $ vi --version
VIM - Vi IMproved 8.2 (2019 Dec 12, compiled Apr 30 2020 13:32:36)
Included patches: 1-664

A: An algorithm used in Vim is fully deterministic. What creates a confusion is the fact that calling rand(seed) updates the seed "in place", but does not update any internal value(s). Therefore any subsequent rand() uses another (more or less random - quality depends on platform) internal seed value. So if you want to produce fully deterministic sequence, you must consequently invoke rand(seed) with the same variable.
This behaviour is easy to deduce from Vim's source code. Also :h rand() says that:

Return a pseudo-random Number generated with an xoshiro128**
  algorithm using seed {expr}.  The returned number is 32 bits,
  also on 64 bits systems, for consistency.
  {expr} can be initialized by srand() and will be updated by
  rand().  If {expr} is omitted, an internal seed value is used
  and updated.

If you find the wording misleading you can open an issue on github.

A: The documentation is badly written but the behavior is actually the expected one from the source code's perspective.
Analysis
rand() is defined as f_rand() in src/evalfunc.c. From the snippet at the end of this answer, we know some things:

*

*f_rand() has only two sets of static variables: gx, ..., gw and initialized.

*gx, ..., gw are the internal seeds. Their values are touched and referenced only when f_rand() is called with no argument (i.e. when argvars[0].v_type == VAR_UNKNOWN).

*initialized remembers if f_rand() has ever been called with no argument and it is also touched and referenced only when f_rand() is called with no argument.

*When f_rand() is called with a seed,

*

*The value of the seed is used once and that is not saved as a static variable. In other words, the sentence "{expr} can be initialized by srand() and will be updated by rand()" in the documentation is nothing but a "lie"; {expr} is not remembered and thus not updated by the subsequent f_rand().

*The value of the seed is updated in place via the pointers lx, ..., lw.
Conclusion

*

*The sentence

{expr} can be initialized by srand() and will be updated by rand()

shall be modified to

{expr} can be initialized by srand() and will be updated by rand({expr}). You may want to store a seed into a variable and pass it to rand() since {expr} is not remembered in the function.

*If you need the deterministic rand(), do this:

let seed = srand(0)
let a = rand(seed) "The value of `seed` is changed in place.
let b = rand(seed) "ditto
echo [a, b]

The Source Code of rand()
#define ROTL(x, k) ((x << k) | (x >> (32 - k)))
#define SPLITMIX32(x, z) ( \
    z = (x += 0x9e3779b9), \
    z = (z ^ (z >> 16)) * 0x85ebca6b, \
    z = (z ^ (z >> 13)) * 0xc2b2ae35, \
    z ^ (z >> 16) \
    )
#define SHUFFLE_XOSHIRO128STARSTAR(x, y, z, w) \
    result = ROTL(y * 5, 7) * 9; \
    t = y << 9; \
    z ^= x; \
    w ^= y; \
    y ^= z, x ^= w; \
    z ^= t; \
    w = ROTL(w, 11);

/*
 * "rand()" function
 */
    static void
f_rand(typval_T *argvars, typval_T *rettv)
{

    list_T      *l = NULL;
    static UINT32_T     gx, gy, gz, gw;
    static int  initialized = FALSE;
    listitem_T  *lx, *ly, *lz, *lw;
    UINT32_T    x, y, z, w, t, result;

    if (argvars[0].v_type == VAR_UNKNOWN)
    {
        // When no argument is given use the global seed list.
        if (initialized == FALSE)
        {
            // Initialize the global seed list.
            init_srand(&x);

            gx = SPLITMIX32(x, z);
            gy = SPLITMIX32(x, z);
            gz = SPLITMIX32(x, z);
            gw = SPLITMIX32(x, z);
            initialized = TRUE;
        }

        SHUFFLE_XOSHIRO128STARSTAR(gx, gy, gz, gw);
    }
    else if (argvars[0].v_type == VAR_LIST)
    {
        l = argvars[0].vval.v_list;
        if (l == NULL || list_len(l) != 4)
            goto theend;

        lx = list_find(l, 0L);
        ly = list_find(l, 1L);
        lz = list_find(l, 2L);
        lw = list_find(l, 3L);
        if (lx->li_tv.v_type != VAR_NUMBER) goto theend;
        if (ly->li_tv.v_type != VAR_NUMBER) goto theend;
        if (lz->li_tv.v_type != VAR_NUMBER) goto theend;
        if (lw->li_tv.v_type != VAR_NUMBER) goto theend;
        x = (UINT32_T)lx->li_tv.vval.v_number;
        y = (UINT32_T)ly->li_tv.vval.v_number;
        z = (UINT32_T)lz->li_tv.vval.v_number;
        w = (UINT32_T)lw->li_tv.vval.v_number;

        SHUFFLE_XOSHIRO128STARSTAR(x, y, z, w);

        lx->li_tv.vval.v_number = (varnumber_T)x;
        ly->li_tv.vval.v_number = (varnumber_T)y;
        lz->li_tv.vval.v_number = (varnumber_T)z;
        lw->li_tv.vval.v_number = (varnumber_T)w;
    }
    else
        goto theend;

    rettv->v_type = VAR_NUMBER;
    rettv->vval.v_number = (varnumber_T)result;
    return;

theend:
    semsg(_(e_invarg2), tv_get_string(&argvars[0]));
    rettv->v_type = VAR_NUMBER;
    rettv->vval.v_number = -1;

}

redpajama_set_name: RedPajamaStackExchange


In the eyes of analysts across the board, Bitcoin (BTC) decidedly bottomed at $3,150 ... However, some pundits fear that a so-called "black swan" event could still strike this market, forcing Bitcoin and other cryptocurrencies to enter a freefall ... Crypto Professionals Predict $2,400 Bitcoin Bottom, Expect Infrastructure To Spark Bull Run ... Check out "Bitcoin in Heavy Accumulation"here ... Bitcoin Looks Hopeful.
The ruthless bitcoin bear market of 2018 has claimed numerous victims, including many crypto startups and executives ... Champion de Crespigny made the revelation on Twitter, where he insists that he's still bullish on bitcoin ... "I am no longer working full-time in the bitcoin/cryptocurrency industry, and have taken a role outside it ... 'You Can't Rush People to Believe' in Bitcoin.
The Norge was a semi-rigid Italian-built airship that carried out what many consider the first verified overflight of – and the first verified trip of any kind to (see below) – the North Pole on 12 May 1926. It was also the first aircraft to fly over the polar ice cap between Europe and America. The expedition was the brainchild of polar explorer and expedition leader Roald Amundsen, the airship's designer and pilot Umberto Nobile and American explorer Lincoln Ellsworth, who along with the Aero Club of Norway, financed the trip which was known as the Amundsen-Ellsworth 1926 Transpolar Flight.
Norge was the first N class semi-rigid airship designed by Umberto Nobile and its construction started in 1923. As part of the selling contract [as the Norge] it was refitted for Arctic conditions. The pressurised envelope was reinforced by metal frames at the nose and tail, with a flexible tubular metal keel connecting the two. This was covered by fabric and used as storage and crew space. Three engine gondolas and the separate control cabin were attached to the bottom of the keel. Norge was the first Italian semi-rigid to be fitted with the cruciform tail fins first developed by the Schütte-Lanz company.
HNoMS Norge was a coastal defence ship of the Eidsvold-class in the Royal Norwegian Navy. Built by Armstrong Whitworth at Newcastle on Tyne, she was torpedoed and sunk by German destroyers in Narvik harbour on 9 April 1940.
Built as part of the general rearmament in the time leading up to the events in 1905, Norge remained, along with her sister-ship Eidsvold, the backbone of the Royal Norwegian Navy for just over 40 years. Norge and Eidsvold were the largest vessels in the Royal Norwegian Navy, displacing 4,233 tons and crewed by 270 men. Both vessels were considered to be quite powerful for their time, with two 21 cm (8.26 inch) guns as their main armament. They were armoured to withstand battle with ships of a similar size, with 6 inches (15.24 cm) of Krupp cemented armour in the belt and 9 inches (22.86 cm) of the same armour on the two gun turrets.
It was intended to augment the Norwegian coastal defence ship fleet with the two ships of the Bjørgvin class, ordered in 1912, but after these were requisitioned by the British Royal Navy while still under construction at the outbreak of World War I the Eidsvold class and the older, two ship strong, Tordenskjold class was forced to soldier on long after they were obsolete.


text:
Arpheuilles-Saint-Priest Hotels
Hotels & Accommodation in Arpheuilles-Saint-Priest
Search for accommodation in Arpheuilles-Saint-Priest
See Arpheuilles-Saint-Priest hotels on a map
Book hotel rooms & other accommodation in Arpheuilles-Saint-Priest
What's Arpheuilles-Saint-Priest Like?
If you're looking for a place to get away, look no further than Arpheuilles-Saint-Priest. Whether you're planning to stay for a night or for the week, the area around Arpheuilles-Saint-Priest has accommodations to fit every need. Search for hotels in Arpheuilles-Saint-Priest with Hotels.com by checking our online map. Our map displays the areas and neighborhoods around all Arpheuilles-Saint-Priest hotels so you can see how close you are from landmarks and attractions, and then refine your search within the larger area. The best Arpheuilles-Saint-Priest hotel deals are here with our lowest price guarantee.
Where are the Best Places to Stay in Arpheuilles-Saint-Priest?
Below are the number of accommodations by star rating in Arpheuilles-Saint-Priest and the surrounding area:
Things to See and Do in Arpheuilles-Saint-Priest
Things to See near Arpheuilles-Saint-Priest:
• Chateau des ducs de Bourbon (8.4 mi/13.5 km from the city center)
• Church of Notre-Dame (8.4 mi/13.5 km from the city center)
• Wilson Garden (8.4 mi/13.6 km from the city center)
Things to Do near Arpheuilles-Saint-Priest:
• Theatre Municipal Gabrielle Robinne (8.3 mi/13.4 km from the city center)
• Museum of Popular Music (8.4 mi/13.5 km from the city center)


text:
Trevor Bayne tunes up for Sunday's Sprint Cup race at Pocono by winning first career ARCA race
By Jerry BonkowskiJun 6, 2015, 6:08 PM EDT
Ironically, even though he has made 71 career starts in NASCAR's Sprint Cup Series, Trevor Bayne has never raced at Pocono Raceway until this weekend.
So, with some extra time on his hands since the Sprint Cup regulars ended their on track activities Saturday before 1 pm ET — and to get some extra track time as a tune-up for Sunday's Axalta "We Paint Winners" 400 Sprint Cup race — Bayne decided to take up Cunningham Motorsports on the opportunity to run in the Pocono ARCA 200.
It couldn't have worked out better for the 2011 Daytona 500 winner, who earlier this week announced he and wife Ashton were expecting their first child in December.
Bayne earned the pole and then dominated, leading 42 laps of the 80-lap event, including the final 11 laps, to win in both his ARCA Series and Pocono debuts.
MORE: Trevor Bayne wins in both ARCA and Pocono debuts
Bayne certainly could use a boost like Saturday's win, having had a difficult go of it in his first full-time Sprint Cup season in 2015.
Bayne enters Sunday's Cup race 31st in the standings, with his best finish thus far this season being back-to-back 18th-place finishes at Martinsville and Texas.
He'll start Sunday's race in 33rd position.
Follow @JerryBonkowski


text:
Dwight Gooden Signed & Inscribed "Rookie of the Year" Photograph
All > Sports > Baseball > Signed Photographs
Pitching marvel Dwight "Doc" Gooden has signed & inscribed this 8 x 10 color photograph "Dwight Gooden Rookie of the Year 1984", in blue sharpie. A smiling Dwight Gooden holds his Rookie of the Year award in this photograph. Gooden, whose Major League debut was on April 7, 1984 with the New York Mets, had a short, yet stellar, career. Voted the 1984 Rookie of the Year, Gooden quickly proved himself to be a pitching phenom with a fastball clocking in at 98 MPH and a sweeping curveball. His many awards and achievements include being a member of 3 World Series Championship teams, a four time All-Star and Cy Young Award winner. Comes with a certificate that unconditionally guarantees the authenticity of this item.


The Irish have a long love affair with the spoken and written word. Think of all the wonderful writers who have hailed from this somewhat small island: Oscar Wilde, James Joyce and W.B Yeats. I've heard and grown to love these Irish blessings at weddings, birthdays, farewells and funerals over the years. I can still hear my best friend's voice at my own wedding as she raised a glass and toasted me and my husband with "May the road rise up to meet you…"So, in celebration of St. Patrick's Day, I thought I would share three of my favorite Irish blessings. You could use one tonight at dinner with your loved ones.


text:
New Location for Pioneer Clubs!
Home/Club Resources/New Location for Pioneer Clubs!
New Location for Pioneer Clubs!	admin	2015-07-06T15:11:14-05:00
More than forty years ago Pioneer Clubs broke ground for a new headquarters building. The needs of the ministry had outlived its facility at that time and a new building was constructed that served the ministry for four decades.
However, our ministry has changed substantially over those years and so has our facility requirements. In May we closed on the sale of our building and moved into new offices that are better suited for our current ministry needs. It was a major undertaking and we are still in the process of "settling in."
As you can imagine a move of this magnitude has created some challenges. One of the biggest has been working out our new warehouse and distribution operation. We appreciate the patience some of our ministry partners have shown during this process. Over the past month we have worked through most of the details—and glitches—in the system. We are confident that come the late summer months we will be operating smoothly.
With the sale of our building, new financial resources are now available to us. We are in the process of developing new programs and materials to keep the Pioneer Clubs' programs relevant and appealing to today's children. A second VBS program is in the works and we continue to expand our new DELTA program.
We are excited about the future and look forward to partnering with you for years to come!


text:
<?php

namespace Webmozart\Json\Migration;

use stdClass;

/**
 * Migrates a JSON object between versions.
 *
 * The JSON object is expected to have the property "version" set.
 *
 * @since  1.3
 *
 * @author Bernhard Schussek <bschussek@gmail.com>
 */
interface JsonMigration
{
    /**
     * Returns the version of the JSON object that this migration expects.
     *
     * @return string The version string
     */
    public function getSourceVersion();

    /**
     * Returns the version of the JSON object that this migration upgrades to.
     *
     * @return string The version string
     */
    public function getTargetVersion();

    /**
     * Upgrades a JSON object from the source to the target version.
     *
     * @param stdClass $data The JSON object of the package file
     */
    public function up(stdClass $data);

    /**
     * Reverts a JSON object from the target to the source version.
     *
     * @param stdClass $data The JSON object of the package file
     */
    public function down(stdClass $data);
}


text:
HomeBooksMystery, Thriller & Crime
The Snake Stone: A Novel
by Jason Goodwin
304 pages6 hours
The captivating return of Yashim, the eunuch investigator from the intelligent, elliptical and beguilingly written" (The Times, London) bestseller The Janissary Tree
When a French archaeologist arrives in 1830s Istanbul determined to track down a lost Byzantine treasure, the local Greek communities are uncertain how to react; the man seems dangerously well informed. Yashim Togalu, who so brilliantly solved the mysterious murders in The Janissary Tree, is once again enlisted to investigate. But when the archaeologist's mutilated body is discovered outside the French embassy, it turns out there is only one suspect: Yashim himself.
The New York Times celebrated The Janissary Tree as "the perfect escapist mystery," and The Daily Telegraph called it "[A] tremendous first novel . . . Beautifully written, perfectly judged, humane, witty and captivating."
With The Snake Stone, Jason Goodwin delights us with another transporting romp through the back streets of nineteenth-century Istanbul. Yashim finds himself racing against time once again, to uncover the startling truth behind a shadowy society dedicated to the revival of the Byzantine Empire, encountering along the way such vibrant characters as Lord Byron's doctor and the sultan's West Indies–born mother, the Valide. Armed only with a unique sixteenth-century book, the dashing eunuch leads us into a world where the stakes are high, betrayal is death—and the pleasure to the reader is immense.
Publisher: Macmillan PublishersReleased: Sep 30, 2008ISBN: 9781429987691Format: book
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BY Ocean Vuong PAGES 242 | GENRE Fiction ON EARTH WE'RE BRIEFLY GORGEOUS doesn't read like fiction—or, more accurately, what we think we know to be fiction. It's lyrically fragmented: the rubble of an entire life, exploded, then delicately pieced b
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The Snake Stone - Jason Goodwin
THE voice was low and rough and it came from behind as dusk fell.
Hey, George.
It was the hour of the evening prayer, when you could no longer distinguish between a black thread and a white one, in ordinary light. George pulled the paring knife from his belt and sliced it through the air as he turned. All over Istanbul, muezzins in their minarets threw back their heads and began to chant.
It was a good time to kick a man to death in the street.
The grainy ululations swept in sobbing waves across the Golden Horn, where the Greek oarsmen on the gliding caïques were lighting their lamps. The notes of prayer rolled over the European town at Pera, a few lights wavering against the black ridge of Pera Hill. They skimmed the Bosphorus to Üsküdar, a smudge of purple fading back into the blackness of the mountains; and from there, on the Asian side, the mosques on the waterline echoed them back.
A foot caught George in the small of his back. George's arms went wide and he stumbled toward a man who had a long face as if he were sorrowing for something.
The sound swelled as muezzin after muezzin picked up the cry, weaving between the city's minarets the shimmer of a chant that expressed in a thousand ways the infirmity of man and the oneness of God.
After that the knife wasn't any good.
The call to prayer lasts about two and a half minutes, but for George it stopped sooner. The sad-faced man stooped and picked up the knife. It was very sharp, but its end was broken. It wasn't a knife for a fight. He threw it into the shadows.
When the men had gone, a yellow dog came cautiously out of a nearby doorway. A second dog slunk forward on its belly and crouched close by, whining hopefully. Its tail thumped the ground. The first dog gave a low growl and showed its teeth.
MAXIMILIEN Lefèvre leaned over the rail and plugged his cheroot into the surf which seethed from the ship's hull. Seraglio Point was developing on the port bow, its trees still black and massy in the early light. As the ship rounded the point, revealing the Galata Tower on the heights of Pera, Lefèvre pulled a handkerchief from his sleeve to wipe his hands; his skin was clammy from the salt air.
He looked up at the walls of the sultan's palace, patting the back of his neck with the handkerchief. There was an ancient column in the Fourth Court of the seraglio, topped by a Corinthian capital, which was sometimes visible from the sea, between the trees. It was the lingering relic of an acropolis that had stood there many centuries ago, when Byzantium was nothing but a colony of the Greeks: before it became a second Rome, before it became the navel of the world. Most people didn't know the column still existed; sometimes you saw it, sometimes not.
The ship heaved, and Lefèvre gave a grunt of satisfaction.
Slowly the Stamboul shore of the Golden Horn came into view, a procession of domes and minarets that surged forward, one by one, and then modestly retired. Below the domes, cascading down to the busy waterfront, the roofs of Istanbul were glowing red and orange in the first sunlight. This was the panorama that visitors always admired: Constantinople, Istanbul, city of patriarchs and sultans, the busy kaleidoscope of the gorgeous East, the pride of fifteen centuries.
The disappointment came later.
Lefèvre shrugged, lit another cheroot, and turned his attention to the deck. Four sailors in bare feet and dirty singlets were stooped by the anchor chain, awaiting their captain's signal. Others were clawing up the sails overhead. The helmsman eased the ship to port, closing in on the shore and the countercurrent that would bring them to a stop. The captain raised his hand, the chain ran out with the sound of cannon fire, the anchor bit, and the ship heaved slowly back against the chain.
A boat was lowered, and Lefèvre descended into it after his trunk.
At the Pera landing stage, a young Greek sailor jumped ashore with a stick to push back the crowd of touts. With his other hand he gestured for a tip.
Lefèvre put a small coin into his hand and the young man spat.
City moneys, he said contemptuously. City moneys very bad, Excellency. He kept his hand out.
Lefèvre winked. Piastres de Malta, he said quietly.
Oho! The Greek squinted at the coin and his face brightened. Ve-ery good. He redoubled his efforts with the touts. These is robbers. You wants I finds you porter? Hotel? Very clean, Excellency.
Bad mans here. You is first times in the city, Excellency?
No. Lefèvre shook his head.
The men on the landing stage fell silent. Some of them began to turn away. A man was approaching across the planked walk in green slippers. He was of medium build, with a head of snowy white hair. His eyes were piercingly blue. He wore baggy blue trousers, an open shirt of faded red cotton.
Doctor Lefèvre? Follow me, please. Over his shoulder he said: Your trunk will be taken care of.
Lefèvre gave a shrug. À la prochaine.
"Adio, m'sieur," the Greek sailor replied slowly.
THAT same morning, in the Fener district of Istanbul, Yashim woke in a slab of warm spring sunshine and sat up, drowsily rubbing his hands through his curls. After a few moments he cast aside his Korassian blanket and slid from the divan, dropping his feet automatically into a pair of gray leather baluches. He dressed quickly and went downstairs, through the low Byzantine doorway of the widow's house, and out into the alley. A few turns took him to his favorite café on the Kara Davut, where the man at the stove gave him a nod and put a small copper saucepan on the fire.
Yashim settled himself on the divan facing the street, beneath the projecting upper windows. He slipped his feet under his robe, and with that gesture he became, in a sense, invisible.
It was partly the way Yashim still dressed. It was several years since the sultan had begun to encourage his subjects to adopt Western dress; the results were mixed. Many men had swapped their turbans for the scarlet fez, and their loose robes for trousers and the stambouline, a curiously high-necked, swallow-tailed jacket, but few of them wore European lace-up boots. Some of Yashim's neighbors on the divan resembled black beetles, in bare feet; all elbows and pointy knees. In a long cloak, somewhere between deep red and brown, and a saffron-colored robe, Yashim might have been a ruck in the carpet that covered the divan; only his turban was dazzlingly white.
But Yashim's invisibility was also a quality in the man—if man was the proper word. There was a stillness about him: a steadiness in the gaze of his gray eyes, a soft fluidity to his movements, or an easiness of gesture that seemed to deflect attention rather than attract it. People saw him—but they did not quite notice him, either; and it was this absence of hard edges, this peculiar withdrawal of challenge or threat, that comprised his essential talent and made him, even in nineteenth-century Istanbul, unique.
Yashim did not challenge the men who met him; or the women. With his kind face, gray eyes, dark curls barely touched, at forty, by the passage of the years, Yashim was a listener; a quiet questioner; and not entirely a man. Yashim was a eunuch.
He took his coffee propped up on one elbow, and ate the çörek, brushing the crumbs from his mustache.
Deciding against having a pipe with his coffee, he left a silver piastre on the tray and walked down the street toward the Grand Bazaar.
At the corner he turned and glanced back, just in time to see the café owner pick up the coin and bite it. Yashim sighed. Bad money was like poison in the bowels, an irritant that Istanbul could never rid itself of. He hefted his purse and heard the dry rustle of his fortune susurrate between his fingertips: this was one of those times when currency seemed to melt like sugar in the hand. But sugar was sweet. The sultan was dying, and there was bitterness in the air.
In the Street of the Booksellers, Yashim stopped outside a little shop belonging to Goulandris, who dealt in old books and curiosities; sometimes he stocked the French novels that Yashim found hard to resist.
Goulandris fixed his visitor with his one good eye and ground his teeth. Goulandris was not one of your forward, pushy Greeks; his job as a bookseller was to watch, not speak. One of his eyes was filmed with cataracts; but the other did the work of two, recording the way a customer moved, the speed with which he selected a certain book, the expression on his face as he opened it and began to read. Old books, new books, Greek books, Turkish books—and precious few of those—books in Armenian and Hebrew and even, now and then, in French: Dmitri Goulandris stocked them as and when they came to him, pell-mell. Books did not interest him. But how to price a book—that was another matter. And so, with his one good eye, he watched the signs.
But the eunuch—he was good. Very good. Goulandris saw a wellset gentleman in early middle age, his black hair faintly touched with gray beneath a small turban, wearing a soft cloak of an indeterminate color. Goulandris believed that he could penetrate any of the ruses that people used to throw him off the scent—the feigned indifference, the casual addition, the artfully contrived and wholly careless impulse. He listened to what they said. He watched the way their hands moved, and the flicker of their eyes. Only the damned eunuch remained a constant puzzle.
Are you looking for a book?
Yashim lifted his head from the page he was reading and looked around. For a moment he was puzzled; he had been far away with Benjamin Constant, a French writer whose single slim novella laid bare the agonies of love unfulfilled. Adjusting his gaze, Yashim found himself in the familiar cubbyhole in the Grand Bazaar, with the walls lined with books from floor to ceiling, the dim lamp and Goulandris himself, the bookseller, in a dirty gray fez, cross-legged on his stool behind a Frankish desk. Yashim smiled. He was not going to buy this book, Adolphe. He closed it softly and slid it back into its place on the shelf.
Yashim bowed, one hand to his chest. He liked this place, this little cave of books: you never knew what you might find. Goulandris, he suspected, had no idea himself: he doubted if he could do more than read and write in Greek. And today, hugger-mugger with the Frankish textbooks on ballistics, the old imperial scrolls bearing a sultan's beautiful calligraphic tugra, the impenetrable Greek religious tracts, the smattering of French novels Yashim so enjoyed—there, bizarre as it was, a treasure that caught his eye. It had not been there last month. It might not be there the next.
Half smiling to himself, Yashim slid the book out; then he carefully reached up and took down Adolphe again. He hesitated a little over his third choice, choosing—at random—something French, all the while feeling Goulandris's eye fixed firmly on his movements. Slightly too casually, he hoped, he slipped it to the bottom of the pile as he placed the books on the desk.
Goulandris sucked his lips. He did not haggle or offer arguments. He suggested prices. Yashim failed to suppress a flicker of disappointment as Goulandris solemnly priced the third book just a shade beyond his reach. Left with two, he put out a hand and picked up Adolphe. The bookseller glanced suspiciously from the book in Yashim's hand to the book on the desk.
The book on the desk was fatter. It had more writing in it. But the thin book was in the eunuch's hand.
Twelve piastres, Goulandris growled, placing a stubby finger on the book in front of him.
Yashim delved into his purse. He put Adolphe back on the shelf and, with a nod to the old man in his dirty fez, stepped out into the Street of the Booksellers, hugging to his chest volume 1 of Carême's L'Art de la Cuisine Française au 19 me Siècle.
At the bottom of the hill he turned toward the market.
Yashim saw the fishmonger staring stonily at his scales as he weighed out a bass for an elderly matriarch. Two men were haggling over a bunch of carrots. Bad money bred suspicion, Yashim thought. And then he smiled again, thinking of George at his vegetable stall. George always had good ideas for supper. George had no truck with suspicion. George was a cussed old Greek and he would simply growl and say the money was shit.
He looked ahead. George wasn't there.
He's not coming in no more, efendi, an Armenian grocer explained. Some kind of accident's what I heard.
Accident? Yashim thought of the vegetable seller, with his big hands.
The grocer turned his head and spat. They come up yesterday, said George wouldn't be here no more. One of the Constantinedes brothers to get his pitch, they says.
Yashim frowned. The Constantinedes brothers wore identical pencil mustaches and were forever on the move behind their piles of vegetables, like dancers. Yashim had always stuck with George.
Efendi! What can we do for you today? One of the brothers bent forward and began to arrange a pile of eggplants with quick flicks of his wrist. Fasulye today at last year's price! One day only!
Yashim began to assemble his ingredients. Constantinedes weighed out two oka of potatoes and tumbled them into Yashim's basket, replacing the scoop on the scales with a flourish.
Four piastres, twenty—twenty—twenty—eighty-five the potatoes—five-oh-five—and anything else, efendi?
What's happened to George?
Beans today—yesterday's prices!
They say you're going to take over his pitch.
Five-oh-five, efendi.
An oka of zucchinis, please.
The man picked the zucchinis into his scoop.
I heard he had an accident. How did it happen?
The zucchinis. As Constantinedes tilted the scoop over Yashim's basket, Yashim gripped it by the edge and gently raised it level again.
I'm a friend of his. If he's had an accident, I may be able to help.
Constantinedes pursed his lips thoughtfully.
I can ask the kadi, Yashim said, and let go of the scoop. The kadi was the official who regulated the market. The zucchinis rained down into the basket. Keep the change.
The man hesitated, then scooped up the two coins without looking at them and dropped them into the canvas pouch at his waist.
Five minutes, he said quietly.
YASHIM stirred his coffee and waited for the grounds to settle. Constantinedes tilted the cup against his lips. We all got a choice. We don't want aggravation, see?
Yes. Is George all right?
Maybe. I don't ask.
But you'll take over his pitch.
Listen. This was between them and George. Keep us out of it. I'm talking to you because you was his friend.
The man pushed his coffee away and stood up.
A little piece of everything, that's all. He bent down to pick something off the ground and Yashim heard him whisper: The Hetira. I'd leave it, efendi.
He walked back to his stall, leaving Yashim staring at the shiny thick dregs in his coffee cup, wondering where he had heard that name before.
ISTANBUL was a city in which everyone, from sultan to beggar, belonged somewhere—to a guild, a district, a family, a church or a mosque. Where they lived, the work they did, how they were paid, married, born, or buried, the friends they kept, the place they worshiped—all these things were arranged for them, so to speak, long before they ever balled their tiny fists and sucked in their first blast of Istanbul air, an air freighted with muezzins, the smell of the sea, the scent of cypresses, spices, and drains.
Newcomers—foreigners, especially—often complained that Istanbul life was a sequence of divisions: they noticed the harem arrangement of the houses, the blank street walls, the way tradesmen clung together in one street or a section of the bazaar. They frequently gave way to feelings of claustrophobia. Stambouliots, on the other hand, were used to the hugger-mugger atmosphere of warmth and gossip that surrounded them from the cradle and followed them to the grave. In the city of belonging, Yashim well knew, even the dead belonged somewhere.
He ran his thumb along the table's edge. It occurred to him, not for the first time, that of all Istanbul he might be the exception which proved the rule. Sometimes he felt more like a ghost than a man; his invisibility hurt him. Even beggars had a guild that promised to provide their burial at the end. The ordinary eunuchs of the empire, who served as chaperones, escorts, guardians—they were all, in that sense, members of a family: many belonged to the greatest family of all, and lived and died in the sultan's service. Yashim, for a spell, had served in the sultan's palace, too; but his gifts were too broad to be comfortably contained there, between the women of the harem and the secrets of the sultan's inner sanctum. So Yashim had chosen between freedom and belonging; and a grateful sultan had bestowed that freedom on him.
With freedom had come responsibilities, which Yashim worked hard to fulfill, but also loneliness. Neither his condition, nor his profession, such as it was, gave him the right to expect to see his own reflection in a pair of eyes. All he had were his friends.
George was a friend. But what did he know about George? He didn't know where he lived. He didn't know where he'd met his accident. But wherever he was, alive or dead, someone in the city knew. Even the dead belong somewhere.
George? I never asked, the Armenian stallholder said, scratching his head. Yildiz? Dolmabahçe? Lives somewhere up the Bosphorus, I'm pretty sure—he walks up from the Eminönü wharf.
One of the Eminönü boatmen, resting his athletic body on the upright oar of his fragile caïque, recognized George from Yashim's description. He took him up the Bosphorus most evenings, he said. Two nights ago a party of Greeks had spilled out onto the wharf and asked to be rowed up the Horn toward Eyüp; he had dithered for a while because he had not wanted to miss his regular fare. He remembered, too, that it must have been after dark because the lamps were lit and he had noticed the braziers firing on the Pera shore, where the mussel-sellers were preparing their evening snacks.
Yashim offered him a tip, a pinch of silver, which the boatman palmed without a glance, politely suppressing a reflex that was second nature to most tradesmen in the city. Then Yashim retraced his steps toward the market, wondering if it was in one of these narrow streets that George had met with his accident.
The sound of falling water drew his attention. Through a doorway, higher than the level of the street, he caught a glimpse of a courtyard with squares of dazzling linen laid out to dry on a rosemary bush. He noticed the scalloped edge of a fountain. The door swung shut. But then Yashim knew where George might most likely be found.
Almost ten years after the sultan had told his people to dress alike, George stuck to the traditional blue, brimless cap and black slippers that defined him as a Greek. Once, when Yashim had asked him if he was going to adopt the fez, George had drawn himself up quite stiffly:
What? You thinks I dresses for sultans and pashas all of my life? Pah! Like these zucchini flowers, I wears what I wears because I ams what I ams!
Yashim had not asked him about it again; nor did George ever remark on Yashim's turban. It had become like a secret sign between them, a source of silent satisfaction and mutual recognition, as between them and the others who ignored the fez and went on dressing as before.
The door on the street gave Yashim an idea. A church stood on the street parallel with the one he was strenuously climbing toward the market. A group of discreet buildings formed a complex around the church, where nuns lived in dormitories, ate in a refectory, and also ran a charitable dispensary and hospital for the incurably sick of their community. If his friend had been found on the street after his accident, it was to this door, without a shadow of doubt, that he would have been brought, thanks to his blue cap and his black Greek shoes.
But the door remained closed, in spite of his knocking; and in the church, when he finally reached it, he had to overcome the suspicions of a young Papa who was doubtless bred up in undying hatred for everything Yashim might represent: the conqueror's turban, the ascendancy of the crescent in the Holy City of Orthodox Christianity, and the right of interference. But when at last he passed beyond the reredos and through the vestry door, he met an old nun who nodded and said that a Greek had been delivered to their door just two nights past.
He is alive, by the will of God, the nun said. But he is very sick.
The wardroom was bathed in a cool green light and smelled of olive oil soap. There were four wooden cots for invalids and a wide divan; all the cots were occupied. Yashim instinctively put his sleeve to his mouth, but the nun touched his arm and told him not to worry, there was no contagion in the ward.
George's black slippers lay on the floor at the foot of his cot. His jaw and half his face were swathed in bandages, which continued down across his shoulders and around his barrel-shaped chest. One arm—his left—stuck out stiffly from the bedside, splinted and bound. His breathing sounded sticky. What Yashim could see of his face was nothing more than a swollen bruise, black and purple, and several dark clots where blood had dried around his wounds.
He has taken a little soup, the nun whispered. That is good. He will not speak for many days.
Yashim could hardly argue with her. Whoever had attacked his friend had done a thorough job. Their identity would remain a mystery, he thought, until George recovered enough to speak. The Hetira. What did it mean?
While the nun led him out through the tiny courtyard, Yashim told her what he knew about his friend. He left her with a purse of silver and the address of the café on Kara Davut where he could be found when George regained consciousness.
Only after the door had closed behind him did he think to warn her of the need for discretion, if not secrecy. But it was too late, and probably didn't matter. For George, after all, the damage was already done.
MAXIMILIEN Lefèvre stepped lightly from the caïque and made his way up the narrow cobbled street, carefully avoiding the open gutter, which ran crookedly downhill in the middle of the road. Here and there his path was barred by a tangle of nets and creels, set out to mend; then he would vault over the gutter and carry on up the other side, sometimes stooping to pass beneath the jettied upper floors of the wooden houses, which tilted at crazy angles, as if they were being slowly dragged down by the weight of the washing lines strung between them. Old women dressed from head to toe in black sat out on their steps, their laps full of broken nets; they regarded him curiously as he passed by.
Ortaköy was one of a dozen or so Greek villages strung out along the Bosphorus between Pera and the summer houses of the European diplomats. They had been there two thousand years ago, and more—when Agamemnon had assembled fleets, as Homer sang. Greeks from the Bosphorus had manned the ships that sailed against Xerxes, four centuries before Christ; they had ferried Alexander the Great across to Asia, when he took his helots on their legendary campaigns in the East. An Ottoman pasha, Lefèvre recalled, had explained that God gave the land to the Turks—and to the Greeks He left the sea. How could it have been otherwise? Four hundred years after the Turkish Conquest, the Greeks still drew a living from the sea and the straits. They had been sailing these waters while the Turks were still shepherding flocks across the deserts of