If I search in the forum or on google for "how to resend a dropbox invitation to a shared folder" I find an answer for business accounts, but I just have a normal individual pro account. I shared a folder with about 10 people months ago. 4 joined, and 6 didn't. How do I resend the invite to the 6 people so that I am sure they have a recent invite in their email inbox?
You can't. They should be able to accept the invite on the Share page.
You can't? This is horrible. Really, really bad. I create a shared folder. I create a list of invitees. I send them the link. Then, I update the folder. I can see all my invitees listed. BUT~ You are telling me I cannot resend the invite? Why on earth is this kind of dysfunction programmed into an app I pay $200./US yearly for? It should be stupid simple to program this. Please, Db. do it!
Are we the only two people in the whole world using dropbox to share files?.
I do wonder nowadays if no one has the patience or tenacity to complain about anything.
+1 to ability to resend a sharing invite.
I had the same issue. I deleted the address that haven't received and I added again and share it again. It seems it is OK now. In the meantime you can make a link and send the link by email. they can access and download the files via the link.
I agree. It's a basic use case. You can send them the link the first time. There's all this flexibility for each person to rename shared folders (and that's great!). So one doesn't necessarily know what link to send them, something like dropbox.com/home/new-name-or-orginal-or-what-was-it?. Meanwhile on their side, they might barely use it and don't remember where that thing you shared with them 6 months ago is.
That's why there's the Sharing page, so you can see and access everything that has been shared with you.
Also, inviatations don't work like they did previously. Before, when you invited someone to a shared folder, they had to accept the invitation before they were a member. Now, as soon as you invite someone they have access. They can add and remove the folder from their Dropbox at will, without ever changing their membership status within the share. Because of this, there's no reason to re-invite someone that's already a member. They already have access. Only when they leave the share, removing their access completely, would you be able to re-invite someone.
Thanks for responding. The share page helps. However, it doesn't provide the kind of direct access one ideally wants for less techy people one is sharing with. They still have to dig through many shares and remember what it's called. But I will use that shares page link from now on. Thanks.
you should be able to re-invite, all types of software allow this function!!


text:
Two ships of the Royal Navy have been named HMS Eglantine :

  an  sloop launched in 1917 and sold in 1921
 , a  launched and transferred to the Royal Norwegian Navy in 1941

Royal Navy ship names

redpajama_set_name: RedPajamaWikipedia


Large with a unique, beautiful colour. Cooked hubbard squash may be mashed and mixed with sautéed garlic and sage. From mid spring until early summer in open ground in a seedbed. Plant out in well manured soil.


Cryptocurrency exchange Zebpay is opening new offices in five European countries, increasing its presence on the continent to 43 countries.
The new GOL platform uses blockchain technology to decentralize the tournament and payment processes that have long plagued traditional tournament style play.
Hong Kong, China, March 20, 2018, the Global Open League (GOL) ICO private sale is now live and is expected to attract the attention of the global cryptocurrency and gaming communities.
A Counter-Strike: Global Offensive (CS:GO) tournament organized by Play2Live is set to take place later this month and will award the winning team with cryptocurrency, as opposed to cash prizes.
The tournament will be held in Minsk, Belarus, on February 25th, where eight teams will battle it out to see who has the sharpest reflexes and tightest team strategy. Winners are set to receive a $ 100,000 reward for first place in the form of cryptocurrency.


text:
Race day approaches
David DeMille
ddemille@thespectrum.com
While the athletes registered to compete in Saturday's Ironman 70.3 triathlon in St. George are busy making their final preparations, so are the hundreds of volunteers, government employees and other organizers who have to get the course ready.
Traffic crews and law enforcement personnel have been busy planning their part of the operations for weeks, looking to minimize the impacts on motorists and the rest of the area's regular operations while also trying to keep the 10,000 or so athletes and spectators safe as they criss-cross much of Washington County covering the 70.3-mile race.
The event, now in its 7th year in southwest Utah, has become one of the area's largest one-day events, part of a fast-growing movement toward outdoor recreation and endurance sports that take advantage of the region's red-rock scenery.
For the second straight year, it will act as the North American Pro Championship race at the 70.3-distance, a designation that organizers say attracts a heavy field of renowned athletes from across the globe. Athletes from 46 states and 24 countries are registered this year.
"The St. George race showcases the very best of Utah, and we are thrilled to host such a prestigious event," said Kevin Lewis, director of the Office of Sports and Outdoor Recreation in Washington County. "This area thrives as an Ironman 70.3 destination because the athletes love the challenge of the course, the natural beauty of their surroundings and the incredible support they get from the community."
A $100,000 race purse is up for grabs, money that will be distributed among the top 10 male and female finishers. There are also 30 available age-group qualifying spots available for the upcoming Ironman 70.3 World Championship, which takes place Sept. 4 in Queensland, Australia.
"This is an exciting race with a lot at stake for the professionals, in addition to it being a gorgeous destination for the age-group athletes," said Roxie Sherwin, Director of the St. George Tourism Office.
The event is forecast to bring between $5 million and $6 million to the economy, based on similar figures seen in past years, and local officials have backed the event by helping to coordinate the course design and public safety efforts.
In addition to the several hundred volunteers who help execute the event, police officers, parks employees and others from local government also play key roles.
Travelers should expect delays and potential detours throughout much of the actual race, which starts at dawn with a 1.2-mile swim at Sand Hollow Reservoir before transitioning to a 56-mile bike course that covers much of the county and a 13.1-mile run to the finish line in downtown St. George. It cuts through parts of Hurricane, Washington City and Ivins as well as St. George, and while the fastest competitors are expected to finish before noon, others may still be racing at 4 p.m.
Most of the affected roadways in Hurricane will be closed or open only to limited traffic from 7 a.m. to 11 a.m.; in Washington it will be 7:30 a.m. to noon; in St. George from 8 a.m. to 2 p.m. or 5 p.m.; in Ivins from 8 a.m. to 2 p.m.; and state Route 18 north of St. George from 8:30 a.m. to 2 p.m.
The only significant change from last year is a deeper run into Ivins, where Police Capt. Rich Rodgers said there would be closed traffic lanes along one side of Center Street all the way to 400 West this year. There will be two-way traffic allowed on the other side of the street, as well as some designated locations where motorists could cross with police help, but he advised residents to avoid the area if possible by going past 400 West to access the north side of the city.
Detailed information on the closures are available online at www.TheSpectrum.com or from the Ironman 70.3 St. George website, www.im703stg.com.
Follow David DeMille on Twitter,@SpectrumDeMille, and on Facebook atwww.facebook.com/SpectrumDeMille. Call him at 435-674-6261.
Ironman by the numbers
• 70.3 miles from end to end, including a 1.2-mile swim, 56-mile bike ride and 13.1-mile run.
• 2600 athletes expected to participate.
• 24 countries represented among athletes.
• 46 states represented among athletes, including 839 from Utah.
• 75 age of oldest registered competitor.
• 18 age of youngest registered competitor.
• $6 million estimated potential economic impact on Washington County.
• $100,000 prize purse for the race, to be distributed among top 10 male and female professionals.
• 6 Regional Championship 70.3-mile Ironman destinations around the world.
• 7 years since Ironman first came to southwest Utah.
• 1978 year of first Ironman-branded event.
Read more about Ironman
Ironman to stay through 2020
Last minute Ironman preparations could make, break race
Volunteer recruiting picks up ahead of Ironman
Tri like a girl: Ironman triathlete Heather Wurtele talks commitment
Finding yourself in 'the suck?'

redpajama_set_name: RedPajamaCommonCrawl


Harlina Halizah Siraj (2015) stated in his article that during this modern generation, the demand of students in terms of using the Internet for their studies has rapidly increased. There are major points shown that there were changes in the academic performances of students whenever they use the Internet as their main way of getting information. Setting aside the possible bad effects of using the Internet for education, there is a variety of good effects on students using the Internet for their studies due to its compliance to bring quality and valuable data easier and faster.
According to Supriya Chinchpure (2018), the difficulty to find valuable and reliable sources/information was on an unbearable level in the early times. Due to the availability of the Internet, students would rather sit in their desk, with their laptop or desktop and would rather look up what they need to gather for it to be faster. Students nowadays seem to look at gathering information through the Library as a very tedious and tiresome thing to do when there is an easier way to collect data and that is through looking it up in the Internet.
Anisha Raju (2018) also stated in her article that it comes to the point that Internet users have the mindset of thinking of reasons why the Library is still a necessity to find quality and on-demand information when they can just sit back and let the Internet look up for different kinds of data that will be useful for their studies. During the previous times when the Internet hasn't been introduced to the public yet, the library was given major attention for educational purposes since it is the only available option to be able to gather data however, in this modern ages, the Internet is given more importance due to its faster deliverance.


Karol Kyzioł, dr hab. inż.
Chromium-based oxidation-resistant coatings for the protection of engine valves in automotive vehicles / Monika DROŻDŻ, Karol KYZIOŁ, Zbigniew GRZESIK // Materiali in Tehnologije = Materials and Technology ; ISSN 1580-2949. — 2017 vol. 51 no. 4, s. 603–607. — Bibliogr. s. 607, Abstr.


text:
Panalpina's focus on profitable growth shows in strong third quarter results
Basel, November 3, 2011 - The Panalpina Group reported strong results for the third quarter of 2011. Currency adjusted, gross profit increased by 11% year-on-year, supported by organic growth across all regions and segments. Volumes outpaced the market in Ocean Freight and gained traction in Air Freight. The strength of the Swiss franc continued to have a significant adverse effect on the financial results of the Group.
"We did very well, despite fierce competition and a challenging environment. Our focus on sustainable, profitable growth is clearly starting to pay off," said CEO Monika Ribar. "We've made good progress in volumes while gross profit remained high. In Ocean Freight we outpaced the market in the third quarter. In Air Freight we narrowed the gap considerably."
Asia Pacific leading gross profit growth
Gross profit amounted to CHF 356 million in the third quarter of 2011, resulting in a decrease of 7% (+11% currency adjusted). Gross profit for the first nine months of 2011 came in at CHF 1'100 million, an increase of 1% (+14% currency adjusted). All regions and segments recorded an organic gross profit increase. Asia Pacific achieved a record gross profit for the first nine months. The region also reported the highest gross profit growth in local currencies, followed by North America, Latin America and the EMEA region. Gross profit growth in the segments was led by Air Freight, which again was mainly driven by strong yields in a slowing market. The Group achieved an EBITDA of CHF 54 million in the third quarter (CHF 164 million in the first nine months). CHF 14 million of EBITDA were lost due to currency translation (CHF 29 million in the first nine months). The EBITDA-to-gross profit margin showed a further improvement from Q2 (14.5%) to Q3 (15.2%) despite a slowing environment.
Panalpina Group: Results for the third quarter of 2011
(CHF million) Q3 2011 Q3 2010 YTD 2011 YTD 2010
Net forwarding revenue 1'571.0 1'873.7 4'851.8 5'355
Gross profit 356.1 381.6 1'100.4 1'089.3
EBITDA 54.2 59.4 163.6 5.8
EBIT 44.8 49.5 135.5 -28.7
Consolidated profit 31.7 33.7 98.7 -58.9
Third Quarter Results 2011 – Datasheet
Third Quarter Results 2011 – Investor Presentation
Market share gains in Ocean Freight, narrowing gap in Air Freight
In Ocean Freight, Panalpina recorded a volume growth of 8% and therefore gained market share. In fact, the third quarter marked the highest quarterly volumes ever in Ocean Freight. In the first nine months volumes grew 4%. Gross profit per TEU (twenty-foot equivalent unit) of Ocean Freight decreased by 18% (-2% currency adjusted) year-on-year due to the low level of rates and a highly competitive environment. Volume growth in Air Freight was still affected by the profitability restoration program initiated in 2010, where unprofitable business was discontinued. Air Freight volumes were down by 6% year-on-year (-3% in the first nine months). Quarter-on-quarter the gap to the market narrowed from 8% to less than 3%. Yield focus led to a further rise in gross profit per ton, up 3% year-on-year (+23% currency adjusted). Yield management also resulted in a rise of the Group's gross profit margin year-on-year for the third quarter (22.7% compared to 20.4%).
Panalpina has slightly lowered its market growth expectations for 2011 to 0% for Air Freight and to 4-5% for Ocean Freight. The Group has confirmed its financial targets for 2014. "We are on the right track with profitability and volumes and we expect the organization's hard work that was put into the new business pipeline to bear fruit. Still, given the volatility of the markets, we rest vigilant," said Ribar.
The Panalpina Group
The Panalpina Group is one of the world's leading providers of supply chain solutions, combining intercontinental Air and Ocean Freight with comprehensive Value-Added Logistics Services and Supply Chain Services. Thanks to its in-depth industry know-how and customized IT systems, Panalpina provides globally integrated end-to-end solutions tailored to its customers' supply chain management needs. The Panalpina Group operates a global network with some 500 branches in more than 80 countries. In a further 80 countries, it cooperates closely with partner companies. Panalpina employs approximately 15,000 people worldwide.
www.panalpina.com


text:
b y j a c q u e l i n e b i s h o p ~ n e w y o r k, n e w y o r k
AS IF by magic it appeared there: the small wooden house with shuttered jalousie windows, rising out against the dark green bushes. Emmanuel was sure it hadn't been there Friday evening as he made his way home from the fields for the weekend, and he was confused as to how an entire house could have been built in a matter of days. Even more confusing was the garden with its purple Joseph-coats and giant red-ginger lilies; the clump of banana trees at the side. In the back, a huge Julie mango tree spread its gnarled branches over the roof.
Pale curtains blew at the windows and he was able to make out the sounds of someone moving things about inside, rearranging furniture and carefully setting things in order. There was a happy feeling to the place and it seemed as if the sun shone directly down on the house, casting a soft yellow glow over the yard. Emmanuel was still looking at the house in astonishment when the back door opened and someone stepped outside.
Quickly he hid behind a large breadfruit tree, peering out every now and again to see who was coming out of the house.
Immediately he felt foolish for hiding. Hadn't he walked the footpath of these bushes on the way to his fields for the past however many years? Hadn't he bragged to the other men in the district this was the best land around for miles, the reason why his bananas were always so full and handsome and green? His cocoa and coffee beans so fragrant and rich? In some ways he felt he owned the land, for there would be weeks at a time when he'd be the only person to come this far into the bushes.
A woman stepped out of the house balancing something emerald-green on her shoulder. Emmanuel passed his hands quickly over his eyes to make sure he was not seeing things and looked again to what was on the woman's shoulder. It was a parrot! A yellow-billed parrot!
The woman carried the bird in such a way as if it was the most natural thing in the world for it to be resting there on her shoulder, nudging her, playing in her long dark hair.
Emmanuel studied the woman carefully, how the long loose cotton dress she wore did not do much to hide her splendid figure. His eyes moved from her tiny waist, to the full bottom, down to the curve of her legs and the ankles and feet resting solidly on the ground. Her hair was one long thick plait down her back. She had the most beautiful complexion he'd ever seen. Like a jewel, he thought, staring at her, something rich and dark, something you could spend the rest of your life looking at.
The woman slipped back inside the house and came out again, this time dragging a large white pail like the ones the women in the district washed their clothes in.
He kept watching her. Why would she live so far away from everyone else, he asked himself? Most of the other homes in the district were set back from the one badly paved road over which hardly any cars ran anymore. When had she moved into the district and onto "his" land? How come no one told him about, or talked of this woman?
The woman began pinning clothes on the line, humming to herself. Something about her appealed to him, something he couldn't quite put his finger on. Perhaps it was her quick lithe movements. Or perhaps it was the thick black hair like a rope down her back. Indian hair. Hair like his wife had when they first got together. That was many years ago and Urmilla did not have hair like that anymore. Now her hair had thinned and she no longer took the time with it and just rolled it into a coil on the top of her head. Urmilla had changed so much, Emmanuel thought miserably. Now she'd gained too much weight and her disappointments in life, chief among them her inability to conceive a child, hung off her like its own weight.
Friday night after returning home from the field he watched as Urmilla squatted over the wood fire, blowing it back to a blaze, to warm his dinner. How big her backside had gotten, he thought to himself, and how heavily veined her legs. When she looked over at him he immediately noticed the creases around her eyes, and how blood-shot and tired they looked. No, she was no longer the woman he married so many years before. She was no longer like the woman in front of him.
Emmanuel refocused his attentions on the woman in the yard. She was obviously alone in the house. She kept humming to herself, reaching into the pail, pulling out clothes and hanging them on the line.
He decided to come from behind the tree and talk to her.
Removing his worn brown felt hat and holding it in his hands, Emmanuel approached the fence.
"Good morning, Ma'am," he said to her and the woman stiffened, but she did not answer him and she did not turn around.
"I hope I didn't frighten you much, Miss," he continued, "but I sure was surprised to see a house in these parts. To see you in these parts."
Still there was no answer.
"I works abouts here," Emmanuel continued talking to the trembling back of the woman, "have worked abouts here all my life, and I've never seen your place before." He stopped, waiting for her to answer, or at least to turn around and acknowledge him in some way.
"Well, most folks around here known me as Manuel, Mani for short. I live over there," he said, pointing in the direction where he was coming from. "But I have my fields over there." He said, pointing deeper into the bushes.
He stopped talking, waiting for her to say something.
"It sure is a nice little place you have here," he continued after a while, "even though I'm not sure how you got it all up so fast. How did you get it up so fast?" he asked.
Emmanuel began to shift uncomfortably when the woman still did not answer. He was close enough to see she was trembling slightly, to smell the bleach in the pail of white clothes she was washing, to see the tiny blue spots in the white shorts she'd hung on the line. Beads of sweat started collecting at the roots of her hair, running down her neck and shoulders, making small rivulets into her back.
He made to get closer to her, but the parrot began squawking loudly in alarm, rapidly flapping its wings, doing anything, it seemed to Emmanuel, to stave off this unwelcome visitor.
Emmanuel took a few rapid steps backwards, looking around for his machete. Were his eyes deceiving him? The bird actually seemed to be threatening him, getting bigger and bigger!
"I wish you would say something Miss," he said, a touch of anxiety creeping into his voice. He was getting ready to make a speedy retreat. Why wouldn't the woman answer him?
"Perhaps you don't know this," he continued to the back of the woman, getting angrier and angrier by the minute, "but around here everyone speaks to everyone else. The very least you can do is respond to a greeting!" Still there was no answer.
The sun started climbing overhead and Emmanuel decided he should be on the way to his field if he wanted to get any work done for the day. He turned around, collected his machete and reached for the lunch Urmilla had carefully prepared for him. Emmanuel walked away from the house, shaking his head in disbelief at the bad manners of some people.
All day long as he worked, the woman was all Emmanuel could think about. As he dug into the soft, moist earth planting new banana suckers, and later, as he reached up, fingering his coffee beans to see how ripe they were, he wrestled with the image of the woman, the house and the bird. There had been no talk of another person moving into the district and this was a place where everyone knew everyone else. The entire district was enclosed by dark-blue mountains and so shielded it seemed the outside world had forgotten about the place. Even the district's name, Nonsuch, added to its obscurity.
"You know how we come by that name?" His friend Robinson asked him one Friday night as they sat playing dominoes. They were both slightly drunk, although Robinson was more far-gone than he was. "We were really None-such you know. None-such place on the map of the island," Robinson added, laughing hard at his own joke. "None-such, None-such, Nonsuch place."
This actually made sense to Emmanuel, especially since the district was never more isolated. Tourists no longer passed in vans on Mondays and Wednesdays, throwing coins at the children who waved hibiscus flowers at them. The big blue bus no longer carried passengers to the Bay where the stores were. (The roads were too bad and the bus driver got tired of having to repair his bus.) Of the two vans which still made the journey through the district, one of them always ended up with a busted pipe or tire because of the road. So how indeed had the woman moved there? The question obsessed him.
As he settled under the cocoa tree where he ate his lunch, and took out the food his wife had prepared, he continued trying to piece together how it all happened. Sometime between Friday evening and early Monday morning the house was erected. It wasn't a fancy structure, so perhaps. . . but more puzzling were the flowers and the mango tree, because those you could not grow overnight.
He took the blanket he used for his afternoon nap down from the cocoa tree, shook it out, and laid it out under the tree. Before long he felt drowsy, and though he wasn't quite awake, he wasn't asleep either when he began to see the parrot with the fantastic green plumage. It was a yellow-billed parrot, a species found only in Jamaica. A few months before, some government officials came and talked to the people in the district, explaining to them that the bird was threatened with extinction and it was now illegal to hunt the bird. Periodic checks would be carried out, they said, and anyone found hunting the birds, even if they were tourists, would face stiff penalties. If tourists couldn't hunt the birds, and everyone knew how the government bent over backwards to please the tourists, then this was serious.
After they left, he and Robinson laughed at it all. Imagine being told not to hunt the birds in one's own back yard! What were the government people going to tell them not to do next? Why didn't they come and fix the roads instead of worrying themselves over some measly birds?
Emmanuel was very fond of that bird in particular. He took pleasure in the fantastic green plumage of the bird's lower body, the royal-blue feathers under its wings. In his mind's eye he carried a picture of the bird's hooked yellow bill, paler at the tips; its hazel eyes, the rose-pink edged in gray at the bird's throat and neck. Such a beautiful, beautiful, bird he thought.
He always loved beautiful things. When Emmanuel was younger, he kept a yellow-billed parrot in a cage on his verandah. He liked having the bird, rare even then, to show off to his friends. He taught the parrot all sorts of new and wonderful tricks: how to talk to him and only him; what hurtful things to say about his friends; how to scream his name, and only his name, if someone troubled it. He kept the bird like that for years, letting it out every now and again to stretch its wings. He had, in fact, clipped the bird's wings so it could not fly too far out of his reach. One day however, after letting the bird out, it did fly out of his reach. The bird circled the house twice, before heading to the hills from which he'd taken it. For three days he saw nothing of the bird, but many others did. Some said they saw the bird looking for its lost flock; others reported its lonesome cry, to which there was no answer. Some even talked about the sadness surrounding the bird like a dark blue cloak. On the third day, after again searching the woods frantically for the bird, he eventually found it, tired and worn out and fluttering on the ground. He took the parrot home and tended it assiduously, but to no use. The parrot never recovered and died shortly after being taken back home.
Urmilla's body seemed heavier than usual to Emmanuel that night, and eventually he gave up the idea of lifting her legs over his. Instead, he kept thinking of the woman in the bushes. How young and slender she was. When he first met Urmilla she'd been that slender—a shy, slender schoolgirl he would watch as she made her way home from school in the afternoons. He liked the fact she did not have many friends, she was so soft-spoken and she always walked home alone.
What he especially liked about Urmilla were the times she dressed up in the colorful, silky cloth she wrapped tightly around her body. Saris, that was what her type of clothes were called. Emmanuel remembered the times he would steal onto her father's property at night just to get a glimpse of Urmilla in her saris. He especially liked to watch as she got ready for one of the Indian ceremonies she and her father went to once a month in Kingston. After painting a dark red spot between her eyes, she would put a pasty yellow base on her face, gold bangles around her ankles and her arms, earrings in her ears and nose, then slip intricately embroidered slippers onto her feet.
She lived then with her father in the largest house in the district. Rumor had it her mother had died on her way to Jamaica from India when Urmilla was still a child. The father never remarried, never had any other children, and Urmilla was forced to grow up alone. The father, it was further rumored, forbade Urmilla to be friends with anyone in the district, insisting they would be going back home soon—"home" being some far-off place covered in a curry-yellow haze.
From the first moment he'd seen her, a young woman in one of her saris, Emmanuel was intrigued and he made up his mind that somehow and by some means he would get her. She would become the replacement for the bird he'd lost.
His opportunity came faster than he could have imagined. One Saturday, on one of their visits to Kingston, Urmilla's father complained of a tightness in his chest. He was just able to pull to the side of the road before he slumped over in his car and died of a heart attack.
Emmanuel sprung into action immediately. He dropped the woman he'd been living with for years, earning the lifetime wrath of her and all her relatives and, with the entire district looking on in astonishment, arranged a proper church wedding, taking the grief-stricken and confused Urmilla as his wife.
The next morning, on his way to the fields, Emmanuel had great difficulty finding the house. He was sure it wasn't too far from the breadfruit tree, yet he could not find it. He kept pacing back and forth from the breadfruit tree to where he was certain the house was yesterday, there close to the orange flamboyant tree. It was not there.
For the longest time he wandered in a circle, trying to locate the house. Perhaps he'd imagined it all, he said to himself after a while. Perhaps there had been no house, no woman, no yellow-billed parrot. He was just beginning to believe this when he saw the house farther along the path, tangled and almost hidden in the bushes. He noticed immediately that the vines had thickened into the fence, and that the bushes were denser, greener. The vines should not have fattened like that overnight; he read it as a sign that he should stay away from the house and its occupant.
Emmanuel could not stop himself. He had to see her again, the woman with the parrot.
He struggled with the vines until he finally forced an opening. It was then that he saw her again, the dark-haired woman, squatting in the yard, tending to the flowers in her garden. Her back was to him, as before, and he watched as she worked slowly, assiduously, humming a song he knew, but with words he could not remember. The bird was there, too, hovering around, flying low and coming close to the woman before flying away again. It seemed to Emmanuel that the bird was not a parrot at all, but some untamed aspect of the woman. Both were so spectacularly beautiful.
For a moment, as if she knew someone was watching her, the woman turned slightly in the direction where Emmanuel was kneeling. And while he could not make out her entire face, he saw the outline of her eyes, her nose, her full dark lips. She was perfect, just perfect, Emmanuel said to himself, struggling to his feet. He would keep that picture in his mind all day as he worked in the field.
From the beginning, Urmilla was a quiet, hard working woman who never asked much of Emmanuel. In the evenings, when he came home from the fields, his meals would be warm and waiting for him. He complimented himself on how wise he had been to get rid of Mavis, that Jezebel of a woman, always demanding that he help with chores around the yard. She would always demand that Emmanual "do something!" Urmilla, thank God, made no such demands. She fetched the wood for herself, cooked the meals, planted all the thyme, escellion and tomatoes she needed to season the meat with. The first two years of his marriage he remembered as blissful, and the only time he ever left the yard was to, reluctantly, go to the field. It got so bad that Robinson started teasing him that he never saw him anymore.
"Can't you give that poor woman a break?" Robinson would say whenever they ran into each other at the one rum-bar in the district. "Do you think you could find a little time to come play dominoes one Friday night like you use to do? Even I give Daisy a little break now and again!"
"You just don't understand," Emmanuel would say, smiling that knowing smile of his, "you just don't understand."
"Oh I understand alright!" Robinson would reply, laughing, "I understand only too well. I guess we should be expecting two new feet any day now?"
"Yes, any day now!" Emmanuel would brag.
He could hardly wait for Urmilla to have a child. To have his child. Already he could see this child, who would not look like any other child in the district, Urmilla's Indian blood running through its body. Every month he watched for signs that Urmilla was carrying his baby.
But every month no such signs came, and after a while he became a little anxious.
"Milla," he said, coming close to her one night in bed, calling her by the name he'd given her, trying his best to keep the anxiety out of his voice. "How long we been married now?"
Urmilla smiled without answering, for they both knew the answer to that question. In a few weeks they would have been married three years.
"Yes," Emmanuel said, laying his head on her lap, "three years."
She was wearing the sheer-pink night gown he'd bought her, the one that allowed him to see the brown nipples of her breasts. He reached up and started tugging at one of her nipples through the material, but she squirmed and pulled away.
Emmanuel got serious again. "Don't you think it should have happened already?" he asked, using his chin to point to her stomach. "Don't you think by now we should have had a baby?"
A sadness came over Urmilla, and her body sagged. Doubt and confusion clouded her eyes. She looked at him but said nothing.
"Well, let's try again," he said, pulling her down on top of him, trying to lighten the mood, trying to stave off both their worry. "If not this month, then next month!" he whispered in her ear.
But it did not happen that month. Or the month after that. Or the month after that. In fact, it would never happen. None of the doctors, bush-doctors or herbalists they went to could ever tell them why.
When, after several years, it became clear it would never happen, Emmanuel pulled away from Urmilla and every year became more resentful. Especially when Mavis had a whole brood of children and grandchildren running all over her yard, and Robinson had what he took to telling everyone was his own cricket team. With each passing year Emmanuel found more and more reasons to blame Urmilla for why she'd never gotten pregnant: perhaps, he would wonder aloud, those spices Urmilla kept pounding in a mortar had something to do with why she hadn't conceived. Spices she'd taken wrapped up inside of herself all the way from India. Perhaps she was doing something to herself, putting something into herself... all those leaves some of the women in district used to bring on their monthly menses.
But the truth of the matter was that he doubted this. Every time he watched her eyes travel feverishly over a swollen woman's body, or how eagerly she would reach for a newborn baby, he doubted it. Emmanuel was forced to conclude that, after fifteen years, the woman he knew, the woman he'd lived with all those years, would never do anything to harm an unborn baby.
That evening, on his way home from the field, Emmanuel stopped by to see his friend Robinson, to feel him out, to see if he knew anything about the woman who now had her house in the bushes.
"Round robin?" Robinson asked, after they settled down to a game of dominoes.
"Naw, Naw," Emmanuel said, waving the idea away. "I don't want to play dominoes tonight."
Robinson lit a cigarette and looked at his friend, who seemed to be thinking hard about something.
"Urmilla all right?" he broached the subject tentatively.
"Yes, yes," Emmanuel again waved him off impatiently, "getting fatter and fatter everyday."
"She must be one contented woman," Robinson remarked, blowing white circles into the air. "It take a level of contentment for a woman to get fat, you know."
"She too big though!" Emmanuel mumbled under his breath.
"There you go again," Robinson said, "giving the woman grief! I want you to know that you the only man round these parts that feels that way."
"I the only man round these parts who know anything good!" Emmanuel replied, impatient and miserable.
"In your mind, Mani," Robinson said, "it's all in your mind. Urmilla is a good woman, a honest and decent woman. Nothing at all wrong with that woman!"
"Yeah, nothing," Robinson looked closely at his friend. " In any case, what bothering you, Mani? What you have on your mind tonight?"
Emmanuel leaned back in his chair, unsure how to begin. He looked at his friend for a long time, trying to gauge exactly what he should tell him, how he should begin. "You hear any talk of anybody new moving into the district?" he asked, not quite meeting his friend's eyes.
"Well," Robinson leaned over and put out his cigarette, "one of Mavis' granddaughter is home with her a bit …"
Emmanuel shook his head. "No, no, not like that, somebody totally new … a woman." He knew Robinson was looking at him with questions in his eyes, but Emmanuel kept his face averted, playing with something at his feet.
"No, I don't hear of any such thing." Robinson answered flatly. "Why you asking?"
"Oh nothing, nothing." Emmanuel answered, staring at whatever was at his feet.
"Oh nothing, my backside!" Robinson roared, "You and I, we have known each other forever, so don't come telling me this 'oh nothing' foolishness!"
"There is a woman, Robinson," Emmanuel finally confided, "living near my field …"
"Living near your field, Mani?" Robinson asked, incredulous. "All the way over in those bushes?"
"Yes, all the way over in those bushes!" Emmanuel snapped. Some of the men made fun of how far in the bushes he had his field. Said he'd bought his land so far out because he was too cheap to buy land nearer the road. Yes, he knew what people were saying about him behind his back.
"Well then, no," Robinson answered, "I hear no talk about some woman living near your place in the bushes!"
If only Robinson had seen her, Emmanuel kept saying to himself as he walked home alone. If only he had seen her.
After a week of spying, Emmanuel decided he was going to talk to the woman whether she liked it or not. It was downright disrespectful of her not to talk to the person who passed by her house on the way to his field everyday. He did not care if she set the parrot on him, even if he had to fight the parrot off with his two bare hands. Today, of all the days, he was going to talk to her.
Again, when he got to the breadfruit tree, he could not find the house, but by now he was familiar with the games of the woman, the fact that she loved to have him looking for her, searching for her. Yes, he said to himself, standing in the clearing and looking around, the house had to be somewhere around here, in the dense green bushes. He took a deep breath, squinted his eyes the better to see, and began looking.
He searched and searched for hours on end, retracing his steps from the road to the breadfruit tree dozens of times. Measuring the distance between the breadfruit and flamboyant trees and the place where the woman's house should be. He did this time and time again, but no matter what he did, however many times he measured and thought and tried, he could not find the house. Eventually, late in the afternoon, he found a path he believed led to the house and eagerly followed it. The path led him to a spot where there were only feathers: emerald green and royal blue feathers. Nothing else. Not the tiny wooden shack, not the purple Joseph-coats and bright red-ginger lilies. Not even the big Julie mango tree was to be found. As easily as the house, the woman and the bird had sprung up, they had all disappeared.
Emmanuel sat down heavily on the ground. He felt defeated. For a long time, he thought about Urmilla and all she'd done for him, all she'd put up with over the years. He thought about how everyday she carefully prepared his meals, took care of his clothes, did everything she could to make him comfortable. He thought about how she'd even put up with him, even after she knew he'd long fallen out of love with her. Yes, he was forced to admit, yes, she'd never stopped loving him. Mornings she rose early just to make his breakfast, leaving her warm indentation to keep him company in the bed, as she made the hot chocolate, or the homemade coffee tea she knew he loved. Yes, he was forced to admit, she had been a good woman. So many things Urmilla had done for him.
Getting up and heading home, Emmanuel decided he would show Urmilla just how much she meant to him. How much, he was beginning to realize, she'd always meant to him. He could not believe the silly things that had bothered him about her over the years. He was glad he was still young enough, still had some life left in his body, to thank her for being there; to thank her for all she had done for him.
As soon as he walked into the yard, he knew something was wrong. Urmilla did not come out to greet him, like she'd done every year for the past thirty-seven years, when he came home. She was not there to help him out of his coat and get him something cool to drink. She was not hurrying with the stool for him to put his feet upon, after he took off his waterboots to air out his feet. She was not there doing all the things he had assumed she would always be there doing for him.
Instead, there was an eerie quiet to the place. Emmanuel lingered outside for a long time, afraid to face what was waiting for him inside the house. Afraid of what he would find.
Even before he went into the house and found Urmilla's body, covered in a thin film of perspiration, he'd known, felt deep in his bones, that she was gone.
Somewhere towards the bushes he had just left behind, he heard the high-pitched ah-ah-eeeeek rising on the last note, the whip-whip-waaaark of a bird in flight.
Jacqueline Bishop was born and raised in Kingston Jamaica, before coming to the United States to attend college—and to be reunited with her mother. She is the founding editor of Calabash: A Journal of Caribbean Arts & Letters and is presently editing a film on a group of Jamaican untutored artists called The Intuitives. She lives and works in New York City ... the 15th parish of Jamaica.


You can find that there are many available indoor signs that can be placed in any business or workplace which can be at the same time appealing and also very helpful. Aside from that these signs can also be used to provide you with some information while some are also required by law. Like a signs which can show you where to go in cases of any fire or which stairs you should take to exit in case of a fire. You can also find others which are provided by establishments in order to cater or help those which are handicapped or physically disabled. It will not only provide any person with the information needed but it will also show how any business is being professional and well organized or with the right reception signs , you employees work can also be more efficient.
You can choose from the many designs or styles available out there that can perfectly fit into your workplace. So in order to help you find the best signs for your business, you will also need to consider some factors. You will want to have one that can easily be read and notice by any person going into your building and at the same one that can perfectly blend or goes with the design of your office. Try not to choose one which contains any unnecessary words, graphics or designs. Another thing to consider is that there are also many options for you to choose from including the size and font of the words including the materials what you signs is going to be made of. There are custom lobby signs which can easily be understood even without any graphics or just one containing simple words. All that is needed is a sign that can easily be read and can also be easily understand by any person.
Aside from that you will also need to choose a location where the sign will be put up. It is best to put it in a place where it can be visible at all times as well as to consider in putting it where the location is being directed such as an entrance or exit of a place. Also consider to put it up in such a way as it will not be very high as to be difficult to notice or low in such a way that it will be destructing for anyone. Also, there are some signs which you can be mounted to a wall or a sign which stand on its own. And in cases of any power failures or if the place you will put it is very dark, you will need to get one which can be lit up in order to be noticed by any person. These are only some of the factors that you will need to consider in order to get the best signs for your business.
You could also visit http://www.ehow.com/how_4714352_business-sign.html for further reading/watching about this topic.


Eddie Stanky (number 12) always in the face of Phil Rizzuto (number 10).
The passing of Johnny Pesky (see yesterday's blog) reminded me (Evander) of a third player of similar size and high skill from the same generation. Eddie Stanky played for Brooklyn and New York in the National League. He and The Scooter (Phil Rizzuto of the Yankees) are immortally linked via a play in Game 3 of the 1951 World Series, when Stanky, also adept at soccer, knocked the ball out of Scooter's glove while sliding into second base.
All three diminutive infielders, three very different souls and each essential to the success of several legendary franchises, can (maybe) now settle all the old scores in The Great Beyond.
This entry was posted in Baseball, Right Off the Bat Website, Yankees and tagged Brooklyn Dodgers, Eddie Stanky, Johnny Pesky, National League, New York Giants, New York Yankees, Phil Rizzuto. Bookmark the permalink.


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Home » World News » Turkey says door still open for engine-makers in fighter jet project
Turkey says door still open for engine-makers in fighter jet project
ANKARA (Reuters) – The door remains open for international engine-makers to get involved in Turkey's TF-X national fighter jet project, Turkish Defence Industry Director Ismail Demir said on Thursday.
Turkey has in recent years been working to develop its own defense vehicles, including tanks and combat helicopters, in an attempt to boost its defense capabilities amid militant threats and conflict along its southern borders.
Last year Turkey's Kale Group said it would set up a joint venture company with UK-based engineering firm Rolls-Royce to develop aircraft engines including those of the TF-X, Turkey's first domestically made jet. Britain and Turkey signed a deal worth more than 100 million pounds to develop TF-X.
Speaking at a signing ceremony with defense company TR Motors for the jets' production, Demir said talks with Rolls Royce (RR.L) were underway, but that Turkey had "red lines" regarding the project which it would not compromise.
Demir said there should be no restrictions on exports, that all the technology will belong to Turkey, and that Turkey will own all its rights.
"An engine that belongs fully to us is our red line. Since we know it will be a long process, we will work with those who want to produce an intermediary engine," Demir said.
Asked whether Rolls Royce had agreed to comply with the demands, Demir said Turkey would be willing to forego the red lines for a prototype engine, but not for the final product, and added that other international offers would also be evaluated.
Demir also said Turkey was at a stage where it could start mass production of its national Altay tanks, adding that they were looking at a period of 18 months after the signatures.
The Altay tank project, led by the Turkish commercial and military vehicle producer Otokar, is worth an estimated 7 billion euros ($8.30 billion).
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It's time to start planning our New Year's resolutions. I know the tradition of the "New Year's resolution" is one that is best known for its failures — three weeks of going to the gym, eight days of drinking enough water, one time taking the train at night when you wanted to take a cab and actually you should feel proud about that time because you were tired — but this year, as the world crumbles around us, I'd like to challenge you to do better. I'd like to challenge you to stick to your resolution for the entirety of the year 2018. I think you can do it. My New Year's resolution will be, of course: live, laugh, love. But yours will be, if I might so bold as to demand, which I might be, and I am: no more upside-down smiley in 2018.
Petulance; enmity; toxic disapproval that is un-charming to behold; impatience tinged with inhumane rudeness; vile hatred. I do not think I am being over the top in saying that the upside-down smiley represents not all but many of humanity's worst aspects and that it should be abolished or at least I would like to no longer see it anymore personally.
The upside-down smiley has no place in this world going forward. I would never attempt to tell you what to do, as you know, but I would like to let you know that I think you are stronger than the upside-down smiley. You are better. Do not give into this terrible desire. If you must express your disapproval via emoji, please — use a regular smiley. "I see Jessica is going to the party. [smiley]" If your friend knows you dislike Jessica, she will understand that you are unhappy that she is going to the party. "Just checking if you saw my email? [smiley]" The recipient of your email is aware that you would like a response. The smiley suffices, and it takes the edge off even though I know you are a monster and you are desperate to show it no offense I am telling you this out of love.
It would be better to not make communication more unpleasant than it has to be.
Q: But I am normal and I just like to use it. Can I?
Q: I don't understand why it's bad.
A: That is in part due to the fact that this is not my most successful persuasive writing attempt, but it mostly proves you are one of the people who needs to stop using it the most.


This report studies the global capric acid market status and forecast, categorizes the global capric acid market size (value & volume) by manufacturers, type, application, and region. This report focuses on the top manufacturers in SEA, USA, Europe, China and Japan.
Driven by increasing downstream demand, global capric acid consumption had increased from 54448 MT in 2014 to 62584 MT in 2018, with a CAGR of 3.54%. In the future, we predict global demand will be 79552 MT in 2025.


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Nicole Kidman drops out of Mel Brooks' 'The Producers'
Nicole Kidman drops out of Mel Brooks' The Producers
— December 10th, 2004
The Producers: According to Variety, Nicole Kidman is dropping out of Mel Brooks' bigscreen adaptation of legit tuner The Producers, so Matthew Broderick and Nathan Lane will have to put out a new help-wanted ad for a thesp to play their loopy secretary.
Kidman's reps said Thursday that the actress, currently shooting Bewitched, wouldn't have enough time to rehearse the intricate song and dance routines in The Producers before she heads into her next film, the Oz-set Eucalyptus, opposite fellow Aussies Russell Crowe and Geoffrey Rush.
A rep for Kidman said Brooks' team was very understanding of Kidman's packed schedule, and the parties made the decision amicably.
The Susan Stroman-directed film, which Universal will release domestically, is skedded to start shooting in February at Brooklyn's new Steiner Studios. Cast includes Lane and Broderick, plus Broadway co-stars Roger Bart and Gary Beach, joined by funnyman Will Ferrell.
In making the pic, Kidman would have reunited with two recent leading men: Broderick (Stepford Wives) and Ferrell (Bewitched). Bart also was in "Stepford Wives."
Kidman was slated to take the role of Ulla, the Swedish bombshell who works as a secretary for Max Bialystock (Lane) and Leo Bloom (Broderick), in the $45 million musical feature.
The busy thesp will wrap Bewitched before the end of the year and head to Oz after the holidays. She also recently wrapped Sydney Pollack-directed pic The Interpreter.


The IOGEAR GCS78KIT is a 8-port PS/2 KVM that is just the tool you need to help reduce the need for redundant hardware. Now you can control up to eight computers with a single keyboard, monitor and mouse. This 8-port KVM switch comes with built-in AutoScan mode that lets you conveniently monitor every attached computer for a specified amount of time, while our Hot Key technology allows you to switch ports easily using the keyboard. With its 1U, 19" inch rack-mountable casing and status-monitoring LEDs, the IOGEAR 8-port PS/2 is the perfect switch for your home, small business or any other multi-computer environment. This kit includes four 6 ft KVM cables and four 10ft KVM cables.