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Cosmos Country
Vhembe
Blythedale Beach
Salt Rock
Sheffield Beach
Zinkwazi Beach
Virginia Bush Trail
3km from Umhlanga
-29.7702, 31.0468
+27 83 631 9278 www.durban.gov.za
Easy to moderate difficulty; Suitable for children
The Virginia Bush Nature Reserve is bisected by Newport Avenue, a fairly busy road, but you don't hear the traffic once you enter the bush. The 38-hectare reserve consists mainly of coastal bush and is open from 7am to 4pm.
Turn right as soon as you enter the gates into the upper section of the reserve. After a short distance, you pass a small dam, where you keep right again, and then the trail meanders slowly uphill on a sandy path. A few low wooden poles have been laid across the path to prevent mountain-bikers crashing through this pristine forest, so watch your step or you may find yourself airborne.
Many of the trees are labelled, with wild hibiscus, several huge Natal figs and milkwood trees dominating this section of forest. Continue and then take the third track to the left, which goes to the upper section of the reserve, crossing a small section of grassland from where there are great views all the way to the ocean.
The reserve is rich in birdlife and is also home to a few small mammals, so keep your eyes peeled for red and grey duiker, spotted genet and dwarf mongoose. Purple crested loerie, green twinspot, Natal robin, boubou shrike and the flycatcher are frequently seen along the trail.
The path then cuts back into the forest and heads downhill, crossing a few bridges and boardwalks before rather suddenly popping out back at the start.
There is limited parking at the gates off Newport Avenue. The reserve has a maze of trails crisscrossing through it, so if at any stage you want to shorten your walk, just take a left turn and head downhill. All the paths return to the gate.
Umhlanga Lagoon Trail
In Umhlanga
Ballito to Salt Rock Trail
In Ballito
Stretching some 110km from Umhlanga to the Amatikulu River, the North Coast is as diverse as it is spectacular. The old North Coast Road is the best way to access the region. It follows the edge of the Indian Ocean, crossing the lagoons and estuaries of the Umhlanga, Umdloti, Mvoti and Tugela Rivers. It then weaves through fields of sugar cane and patches of indigenous forest.
Over the years, the North Coast has changed from a few sleepy little towns of local farmers' beach cottages to a hugely popular tourism centre. It draws hundreds of thousands of annual visitors and offers something for just about everyone.
The towns range from Zinkwazi, as relaxed and serene as anywhere on the entire South African coast, to the bustling Umhlanga with its big-town feel. In-between is Ballito, a holiday destination par excellence where tourists are welcomed and entertained. A host of other towns each have their own attractions.
As you'd expect, it is the beaches that are the biggest drawcard to the area and around which most of the action is centred.
Ballito in particular is a surfing mecca and hosts regular surfing competitions.
Other beaches all along the coast offer surfing, swimming and angling. Scuba diving, deep-sea fishing and boat trips can also be organised at most popular tourism towns, as can microlight flights.
Don't for a second think that the North Coast is simply a beach and party destination. Nature is ever-present and many of the towns are surrounded by beautiful coastal bush or are close to nature reserves. Birdwatching is excellent and diverse, while blue duiker can even be spotted from the Umhlanga promenade.
Fascinating history also pops up when you delve a little deeper. King Shaka, that South African Napoleon, once ruled from a kraal in the area of KwaDukuza. A visitor's centre, memorial and museum all celebrate and explain his life and reign. Another great Zulu man, this time a man of peace, grew up down the road in Groutville. Albert John Luthuli would later play a major part in the struggle against apartheid and would become the first African to win the Nobel Peace Prize.
The North Coast has always been the trendier part of KwaZulu-Natal's long and spectacular coastline. It's more developed, the hotels are bigger and it just feels like there is more on the go. There is an incredible amount to do, things to see and places to stay.
Mount Moreland – every year an estimated three million barn swallows spend the South African summer at a wetland on Mount Moreland, not far from the coastal town of Umdloti. From around October to April, this huge concentration of tiny birds can be viewed coming in to roost en masse. Take a few drinks or a picnic and your deckchairs and have a sundowner while this immense flock fills the sky.
King Shaka Heritage Route – King Shaka forged the Zulu nation and ultimately shaped the future of South Africa. On this route you can find out a bit more about this fascinating character. You can visit spots such as Observation Rock, from where he watched his impis train. You can also see the pool where he bathed, the site of his burial, and the tree under which he is reputed to have been assassinated.
The Gateway Shopping Centre - on the other side of the scale is Gateway, a huge shopping centre in Umhlanga that caters for absolutely everyone. Rainy days can be spent watching movies, rock-climbing, bowling, driving go-karts and much, much more. There are obviously also plenty of shops and restaurants.
The KwaZulu-Natal Sharks Board – offers interesting insights into these denizens of the deep. Educational tours are held, as are regular shark dissections.
Birding – the North Coast is home to an estimated 460 bird species, including rarities such as finfoot, green twinspot, bat hawk and black coucal. It's not necessary to visit nature reserves to spot them either, although you will have better luck at places like the Zinkwazi lagoon or the Harold Johnson Nature Reserve.
Adventure – scuba diving (or learning to scuba dive) is great for family bonding. The North Coast has a number of operators who offer this. Other chances for adventure include excellent mountain biking, quadbiking, paintball and horse riding.
Microlight flights – and helicopter flips give wonderful perspectives of this long and beautiful coastline. You'll see how urban spread has affected the cane and bush, as well as just how much remains intact. Whales and dolphins are often spotted on such flights.
Dining decadence- be it high tea or a curry buffet at the sensational Oysterbox, a prawn feast at the Amatikulu Prawn Shack, or the Ballito Prawn and Jazz Festival.
Hawaan Forest Walk
Nightjar Travel 9:30am 3 Mar
On the edge of Umhlanga Rocks lies a mystical forest full of breathtaking archways, vines and hidden alcoves. I had high expectations when I heard of the Hawaan Forest Walk, all of which were completely exceeded when I experienced it in real life. As soon as I stepped into a world that surely was a home to magical forest creatures, I realised I had found a new favourite Durban activity. If you are planning a romantic day for your other half, then this is the way to win them over even more. The best part is that you can follow the forest trail all the way to the beach, and spend the rest...
Hiking in the North Coast
Ballito to Salt Rock TrailHiking, Ballito
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The Vineyard on BallitoAccommodation, Ballito
Umhlanga Lagoon TrailHiking, Umhlanga
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THE ROARING SILENCE: John Cage: A Life
Published to coincide with the 80th birthday of the controversial avant-garde composer, Revill's lengthy biography of John Cage may prove as puzzling to readers as the composer's musical experiments have proved to concert-goers over the years. Curiously reticent in presenting the details of his subject's personal life (Cage's homosexuality is airily dismissed, for example, as ""not important given the aims of this book""), Revill, a British musicologist, composer, and musician, devotes page after page to the minutiae of Cage's highly unorthodox methods of composition. For readers who are neither professional musicians nor well versed in math, these extended passages will prove heavy going. Cage himself, moreover, isn't a particularly appealing protagonist, coming off here as pontifical, intolerant, and emotionally detached yet given to faddish enthusiasms (the I Ching, macrobiotic diets, acupuncture, McLuhan's ""global village""). And much of his writing, at least as presented by Revill, has qualties of hand-me-down Gertrude Stein. During his long career, Cage has associated with such figures as Jasper Johns, Robert Rauschenberg, Marcel Duchamp, Igor Stravinsky, John Lennon, and Yoko Ono. But in Revill's hands, these personalities remain sketchy, lifeless walk-ons in a narrative stuffed with lists of music festivals, academic seminars, and personal appearances that provide little insight into Cage's life or world. Revill swings from near-hagiography to surprisingly blunt criticism; neither cuts the mustard.
Pub Date: Sept. 1st, 1992
Page count: 384pp
Publisher: "Arcade--dist. by Little, Brown"

redpajama_set_name: RedPajamaCommonCrawl


text:
By Bloomberg, December 18, 2014
The Philippines' indigenous Aeta community has signed an agreement that paves the way for the construction of a pioneering renewable energy facility on their ancestral land in Subic Bay, north of Manila.
Aeta tribal chieftain Conrado Frenilla and Aeta elder Bonifacio Florentino signed a memorandum of agreement on Dec. 12 with the Subic Bay Metropolitan Authority and local firm Jobin SQM Inc. for the $200-million project, SBMA said in a statement.
SBMA is overseeing the conversion of the former military base into an economic growth center.
Jobin SQM has formed a joint venture with HydroChina International Engineering Co. for the construction of the facility, which is targeting 150 megawatts of combined solar and wind energy.
It will be located inside an 800-hectare (1,977- acre) area of the Aeta ancestral domain on former military base Subic Bay Freeport Zone, the statement said.
The project seeks to "accelerate the exploration and development of renewable energy sources, increase utilization of such and promote their efficient and cost-effective commercial application," SBMA chairman Roberto Garcia said.
The alternative energy project was formally committed during President Benigno Aquino's state visit to China in September 2011. HydroChina operates projects involving hydropower and water conservation, solar and electric power, and ports, highways and buildings.


In the midst of writing his frank and expressive memoir, 'Spider from Mars: My Life with Bowie', in 2016 and en route to Toronto where Woody and bassist/producer Tony Visconti's Holy Holy (a band which performs David Bowie material internationally), which includes a revolving host of all-stars, were set to perform, drummer/arranger/author Woody "Mick" Woodmansey received the disturbing news that David Bowie had died.
As a member of Bowie's first backing band, The Spiders from Mars, with bassist Trevor Bolder and guitarist Mick Ronson, Woody witnessed the superstar's fascinating rise to success. He watched David Bowie morph into the legendary Ziggy Stardust and he even saw that persona dissolve as the band stood on stage.
Woody's consciousness as a musician started early on in Grinstead, England when he discovered a group of older musicians jamming in an out-of-the way building. From that point on, his focus became outstandingly clear. His streamlined dream was essentially to become an outstanding drummer.
He disappointed his parents by not accepting a job as a tradesman with a real future, but he was determined. And at times, he even surprised himself by somehow skipping a pre-arranged audition with Paul McCartney's Wings but Woody's perseverance paid off.
Working with the Spiders meant exploring new avenues beyond the scope of music-making. Woody found himself wearing outlandish costumes that folks in his working-class neighborhood found disarming. Once his father even got into a fist fight related to his son's startling image.
Woody struggled to keep his marriage stable despite constant touring and a cesspool of confusing excesses and as his adoring partner, June, continued to design costumes. In the studio, he continually found himself orchestrating ad hoc arrangements when he was often just given a sketchy verse or chorus, but, through hard work and imagination, he became an integral part of the songwriting solution and watched the band's discography chart.
Woody played on 'The Man Who Sold the World', 'Hunky Dory', 'The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust' and 'Aladdin Sane' between the years of 1970-1973 and is the last, living original member of the Spiders from Mars. That fact alone, hints at the magnitude of his storied accomplishments.
Fortunately for the reader, Woody's keen memory absorbed all the chaos, excitement and fury of his Spider years. And his subsequent musical accomplishments are also illustrated and revealed through an articulate, generous lens.
Lisa Torem in 'Raging Pages' finds that drummer/author Woody Woodmansey's timeless memoir about his years with David Bowie backing group, the Spiders from Mars is a veritable 'must-have'.
Drummer Woody Woodmansey speaks to Lisa Torem about Holy Holy's upcoming UK tour, his compelling memoir and working in the studio with David Bowie.


text:
Imports System.IO
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    End Sub

End Class

redpajama_set_name: RedPajamaGithub


Christian's Snowman Hat - Free Knitting Pattern - love. life. yarn.
Cast on 52 sts. Divide evenly among 4 dpn's. Join, being careful not to twist.
Round 1: *K1, p1; repeat to end.
Round 2: *P1, k1; repeat to end.
Rounds 3-6: Repeat rounds 1-2.
At this point, the hat should be 5″ from beginning.
Round 1: *K11, k2tog; repeat to end – 48 sts.
Round 3: *K4, k2tog; repeat to end – 40 sts.
Round 5: *K3, k2tog; repeat to end – 32 sts.
Round 7: *K2, k2tog; repeat to end – 24 sts.
Round 9: *K1, k2tog; repeat to end – 16 sts.
Round 11: *K2tog; repeat to end – 8 sts.
Cut yarn, leaving a long tail. Draw yarn through remaining 8 sts and pull tight to close. Using a pom-pom maker, create a large pom-pom. Attach to top. Sew on buttons as shown in picture. Embroider a simple smile. Weave in ends.
My guess is to just leave a long enough tail to sew the back.
Can this be adjusted for a big kid/adult?
Hi Gladys! If you use double pointed needles there will be no seam to sew. That's what I did with this hat, but I didn't know how to use them when I first started knitting. I used to knit a hat flat and leave a long tail to sew up the back just like you mentioned. Either way is okay! It can be adjusted for a larger size, you just need to cast on the required number of stitches (typically an adult hat is about 21″ circumference) and when I make an adult size I don't start decreasing until the hat is around 5-6″ long (I'm aiming for a total of 8″ long).


The buzz surrounding the International Wine, Spirits & Beer Event is so loud it can be heard on the other side of the ocean.
Vino Cacao, the Paris-based manufacturer of chocolate Bordeaux wine and chocolate Cognac, is exhibiting at IWSB 2009. CEO Franck Maupouet, the chocolatier son of wine-grower family in France, hopes to expand distribution in the States. NRA Show's premier alcohol forum will provide him with numerous opportunities to connect with high-volume buyers from numerous industry segments.
Wine and chocolate — two products that invoke passion in all of us, right? Not only can you imbibe Vino Cacao at a cocktail party or other special occasion, but you can also infuse your culinary creations with it as well. View a menu of ideas from Vino Cacao here.
Franck, we look forward to see you in Chicago in May!
The two-day International Wine, Spirits & Beer Event (IWSB) at NRA Show 2009 is the best place to connect with beverage alcohol producers from around the world and learn all about their hottest brands and labels.
IWSB is so unique because it gives you latest on trends, pairings & recipes, mixology demonstrations, new promotional ideas, as well as the update on responsible service, all in one place. And all related to increasing the profitability of your foodservice/hospitality business.
What better place to invigorate your bar program than IWSB?
Mark your calendars! The Event takes place May 17-8, 2009 at McCormick Place in Chicago.
This year Kitchen Innovations, a.k.a. KI, turns 5 years old. It's a special occasion, and one we'll be celebrating for the next few weeks leading up to the announcement of the NRA Show 2009 KI Award winners in February.
To observe this milestone, we'll feature past KI winners, find out where they are now, chat with some KI judges and highlight some of the most innovative, state-of-the-art foodservice equipment out on the market now. Oh, and there will be cake. You'll see.
In short, KI is only a baby, but we expect it to be around for a long time. In the coming weeks we'll show ya why KI!
Innovative food and beverage trends introduced at the NRA Show long have helped restaurant and foodservice operators make a splash.
One of those foods is a key cocktail ingredient at a posh inaugural event.
The Creative Coalition's star-studded Inaugural Ball reportedly will serve "Inaugural Cheer" cocktails featuring Wild Hibiscus Flowers in Syrup. The Australian Trade Commission introduced the wildly popular Wild Hisbicus flowers at the 2007 NRA Show. Since then, American restaurateurs have been adding them to Champagne, other festive drinks and desserts.
We'll definitely be looking for other delicious food and beverage trends May 16-19 among thousands of international and domestic exhibitors at this year's NRA Show. Who knows, maybe one of them will be the hot ingredient at the 2013 Inauguration!
NRA Show and the Greater Chicago Food Depository (GCFD) have collaborated for over 20 years. Exhibiting companies at last year's NRA Show donated 116,553 pounds of food to GCFD. As one of the largest food donation events in Chicago, the NRA Show 2008 helped provide meals for 87,633 people in the Chicago area.
Furthermore, NRA Show works with GCFD throughout the year. Last week the NRA Show and National Restaurant Association Solutions offices both assisted GCFD with its Nourish for Knowledge initiative.
Nourish for Knowledge, a partnership between GCFD and Chicago Public Schools, provides take-home bags of food on weekends to schoolchildren in low-income neighborhoods. The innovative program ensures children who are eligible for free reduced-price meals have the nutritious food they need outside of school hours. NRA Show and National Restaurant Association Solutions helped prepare nearly 3,000 take-home bags of food during their day of service on Jan. 8.
After all, sharing doesn't end just because the holidays do. For more information on how you can help eliminate hunger, visit the National Restaurant Association Community Relations Web site.
In the above photo, pictured L to R: Angelica Jackson, Tim Woods, Darlene Fournier, Willie Glispie, Janet Westfall, Debra Hayes, Derrek Hull, Leslie Kelley.
You don't need us to tell you that we 're all facing economic challenges. You can just go to Bloomberg, CNN or read your local paper to get that sort of info. So, when you come here to Floored!, we hope to share with you some good news instead.
Well, we have some for you. Several hotels have lowered their rates to pre-2008 levels. Both attendees and exhibitors can take advantage of these discounts. For a list of hotels, visit the NRA Show 2009 Travel Desk Web site. Be sure to check back often for regular hotel & travel updates.
Speaking of NRA Show, have you registered yet? If not, do so now! Attendees, sign up here. Exhibitors, secure your space today. We look forward to seeing you in May!
NRA Show 2009 exhibitor PolyScience is everywhere lately. Case in point, PS recently made an appearance on The Today Show. Award-winning chef-slash-restaurateur-slash-author Thomas Keller shared the wonders of sous vide with host Lester Holt with the help of PolyScience's immersion circulator.
The circulator featured in the clip controls temperature, a very important element of successful sous-vide cooking.
To learn more about PolyScience, visit its home base on the World Wide Web. See who else is exhibiting at NRA Show 2009 too.


Great newspaper article in todays Christchurch Mail about our recent Father & Son Camp. We're now taking registrations for the Father & Son Camp Teen Edition, from 25th – 27th May. Our teens grow up so fast, can you spare a weekend dedicated to them and your relationship?


The incomparable Mozart comic opera. The servants Figaro and Susanna succeed in getting married, foiling the efforts of their philandering employer Count Almaviva to seduce Susanna, and teaching him a lesson in fidelity.
Approximate Running Time: 3 hours, including one intermission.


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Pomasqui es una parroquia rural de las 65 que conforman el Distrito Metropolitano de Quito en Ecuador. Se encuentra situada al norte de la ciudad de Quito y sus límites los constituyen las parroquias de San Antonio de Pichincha, Cotocollao, Carcelén, Calderón y Calacalí. Su población en 2010 era de 28 910 habitantes.

Toponimia
No existe un consenso sobre el significado del término «pomasqui». Una teoría sugiere que significa «tierra de pumas», otra que hace referencia a la existencia en el lugar de abundante piedra pómez e incluso existe una versión que lo atribuye a una planta cuya flor tiene forma de campana (poma). La hipótesis más aceptada afirma que proviene de la expresión quechua puma siqui, que significa «posaderas del puma» y hace referencia a la presencia en la región del león americano.

Geografía física

Limita al norte con San Antonio de Pichincha, al sur con Cotocollao y Carcelén, al este con Calderón y al oeste con Cotocollao y Calacalí.

Tiene una altitud media de 2400 , un clima semiárido, temperaturas que varían entre 12 y 18°C y una pluviosidad de entre 300 y 1100 mm. Su superficie es de 23,16 km². Se ubica en el Valle de Pomasqui, entre los cerros Casitahua y Pacpo.

Sismicidad

Pomasqui se encuentra sobre la Falla de Quito, lo que la vuelve proclive a los sísmos. El tipo de suelo del lugar favorece la amplificación de las ondas sísmicas, lo que a su vez aumenta la probabilidad de que se produzcan terremotos de gran magnitud.

La historia sísmica de la región comenzó con el primer registro de un seísmo de gran magnitud ocurrido en 1587 (Terremoto de Quito de 1587), el cual estudios contemporáneos atribuyen una magnitud de 6,4 Mw. Otro terremoto de gran magnitud fue el del 26 de abril de 1755, el cual fue tan violento que los habitantes tuvieron que abandonar la ciudad y marcharse al campo durante varias de las ocho semanas que duraron las réplicas. El movimiento telúrico del 10 de agosto de 1990 es comparable en magnitud a los anteriores (5,3 Mw) y produjo daños considerables en 12 km a la redonda del epicentro. Este último causó daños en la mitad de las edificaciones y se perdieron bienes de interés histórico y cultural.

Naturaleza
El territorio de la parroquia de Pomasqui se divide entre dos regiones biogeográficas: el Bosque y Arbustal semideciduo del norte de los Valles y el Bosque Protector Flanco Oriental de Pichincha y Cinturón Verde de Quito, el cual abarca el 65,7% del total de la superficie de la parroquia. Además parte del territorio de la Parroquia se encuentra dentro del Área de Reserva de Biósfera del Chocó Andino de Pichincha, declarada por UNESCO, el 26 de julio de 2018.

Flora y fauna

En el bosque y arbustal semideciduo abundan las especies arbustivas como Croton spp. y Dodonaea viscosa, además es notable la presencia de arbustos con espinas, plantas suculentas y cactáceas. Entre las especies características se encuentran Acacia macracantha, Buddleja bullata, Caesalpinia spinosa, Leucaena leucocephala, Opuntia soederstromiana, Opuntia pubescens, Schinus molle, Tecoma stans Baccharis trinervis, Cestrum tomentosum, Cleistocactus sepium, Coursetia dubia, Coursetia racilis, Croton elegans, Croton wagneri, Dodonaea viscosa, Duranta dombeyana, Lantana amara, Salvia humboldtiana, Sida cordifolia, Senna multiglandulosa, Agave americana, Alternanthera porrigens, Bryophyllum delagoense, Bryophyllum pinnatum, Chamaesyce jamesonii, Echeveria quitensis, Epidendrum jamiesonis, Furcraea andina, Phaedranassa dubia, Puya aequatorialis, Setaria cernua, Tillandsia secunda, Tillandsia recurvata y Tillandsia usneoides.

Mientras que en el Bosque Protector se pueden encontrar arrayanes (Myrciantes halii), cedros (Cedrella spp.), chilcas (Baccharis spp.), chuquiraguas (Chuquiragua spp.), colcas (Miconia spp.), lecherillos o cauchines (Euphorbia spp.), moras (Prunus spp.), mortiños (Vaccicum spp.), pumamaquis (Oreopanax spp.), suros (Chasquea scandens), tréboles (Lupinus spp.) y valerianas
(Valeriana spp.). Y las siguientes especies animales: conejo (Sylvilagus brasiliensis), cervicabra (Mazama rufina), lobo (Dascicyon culpaeun), puma (Felis concolor), raposa (Dasicyon spp.), perdiz de páramo (Notoprocta spp.), pava de monte (Penelope mantagni) y torcaza (Columba fasciata).

Historia

Prehispánica
Existe una hipótesis no verificada por la arqueología, que surge de estudios antropológicos, que afirma que el Valle de Pomasqui estaba habitado por la etnia preincaica de los caranquis. Sin embargo, la evidencia sugiere que la zona de la actual Pomasqui no tuvo una población relevante al menos hasta la época incaica o tal vez ni siquiera estaba habitado.

La historia inca tradicional atribuye la conquista del territorio de la etnia caranqui para el imperio Inca a Túpac Yupanqui mediante una acción bélica. Y su consolidación, a Huayna Cápac a comienzos del . Pero esto se contradice con la arqueología que evidencia una ocupación paulatina, en donde diversos pactos con los jefes caranquis los fue sometiendo al poder imperial de manera gradual y pacífica. Según el Acta de Fundación de la Reducción de Pomasqui la zona fue poblada con indígenas traídos de Cuzco por Túpac Yupanqui para que labraran la tierra, lo que sugiere que anteriormente estaba deshabitada. Un documento de 1587 afirma que Hayna Cápac envió a la zona mitimaes cuzqueños, que resultaron ser la mayoría de la población en aquella época. Con el tiempo, los mitimaes se asentaron definitivamente integrándose a quienes ya vivían allí y fueron sus descendientes quienes habitaban el lugar durante la fundación formal en la época hispánica.

Época hispánica
Tras la Conquista del Perú la zona pasó al control del Imperio español, bajo cuya administración formó parte del Corregimiento de Quito. Inmediatamente después de la fundación de Quito en 1534, las tierras de Pomasqui fueron adjudicadas por el cabildo a Francisco Pizarro, quien donó parte de ellas a quienes serían sus primeros vecinos. Dichas tierras estaban muy bien consideradas, debido a las acequias de irrigación construidas por los incas. Posteriormente, en 1565, las tierras fueron entregadas por el presidente de la Real Audiencia de Quito, Hernando de Santillán y Figueroa, a la Orden Franciscana.

La fundación formal se llevó a cabo el 27 de julio de 1573 con el nombre de «Santa Clara y Rosa de Pomasqui», aunque se desconoce exactamente por quién fue llevada a cabo. Hecho que fue ratificado con una misa el 12 de agosto del mismo año, en memoria del bicentenario de Clara de Asís y el aniversario del fallecimiento de Rosa de Lima, declaradas entonces sus patronas y protectoras.

La zona se destinó principalmente a la producción de frutas y verduras, con el fin de abastecer el mercado de Quito. El virrey Francisco de Toledo (1569-1581), intentó promover y desarrollar la vitivinicultura, pero ésta se abandonó por resultar inviable.

La inmigración de población blanca a Pomasqui estuvo estrechamente relacionada con la ubicación del poblado en una vía de paso entre las provincias del norte y la ciudad de Quito, sobre todo desde el , luego de que el sabio Pedro Vicente Maldonado trazara su famoso "camino a Esmeraldas".

Los siglos XX y XXI
Durante los años 1960 y 1970 se produjo en Ecuador un proceso de migración interna del campo a la ciudad, siendo el principal receptor de población el Distrito Metropolitano de Quito en su conjunto. Según el historiador Juan Paz y Miño, los principales motores de dicha migración fueron la reforma agraria de 1964 y el proceso de industrialización iniciado en 1970. Pomasqui fue la cuarta parroquia que más población recibió, luego de Calderón, Tumbaco y San Antonio.

La Institución Educativa "Pomasqui" fue creada mediante Decreto Supremo 1145 publicado en el Registro Oficial 161 del 2 de octubre de 1972. Inicia con 42 estudiantes y seis maestros. Por primera vez la comunidad contó con el primer colegio fiscal, el que funciono donde hoy es el gobierno parroquial. Actualmente esta ubicado en la Avenida Manuel Córdova Galarza y Santa Teresa

Urbanismo
Pomasqui es fundamentalmente una zona residencial, aunque gran parte de su superficie está cubierta por zonas protegidas. La mayor parte de la población se concentra en el trayecto de la Autopista Manuel Córdova Galarza. La expansión urbana está limitada por la orografía del lugar, debido principalmente a los cerros circundantes y al río Monjas, quedando muy poca superficie disponible para nuevos asentamientos.

Barrios
La parroquia está formada por los siguientes barrios:

 Abdón Calderón
 Alugulla
 Central
 El Común
 Kennedy

 La Herlinda
 La Merced
 La Pampa
 Las Tolas
 Santa Teresa

 Santa Rosa
 Señor del Árbol
 Simón Bolívar
 Santa Clara

 Santa Martha
 San José
 San Carlos
 Veintimilla
 27 de Julio

Arquitectura
Pomasqui es uno de los asentamientos españoles más antiguos de Ecuador, por lo que tuvo una influencia directa en la arquitectura colonial de la zona. La presencia de canteras determinó que la construcción de las edificaciones más importantes se realizara en piedra.
 Prácticamente no quedan vestigios de la arquitectura prehispánica. Luego del terremoto de 1990, la ciudad se reconstruyó en gran medida, modernizándose sus edificios y extendiéndose el uso del hormigón armado.

Al año 2004, veinte edificios estaban catalogados como «bienes de interés histórico y cultural». Entre ellos se encuentran el monasterio de la Convalecencia, convento franciscano del año 1700 y lugar donde funcionó la primera biblioteca de América Latina, y la capilla El señor del árbol, cuyo edificio data del .

Cultura

Festividades religiosas
El Señor del Árbol
El segundo domingo de julio se celebra la fiesta de El Señor del Árbol, en donde se venera una imagen de Jesucristo tallado en madera. La imagen representa un Cristo crucificado tallado en madera de quishuar (Buddleja incana), la misma es de autor desconocido. La veneración de imágenes de Jesucristo talladas en madera data de la primera mitad del  y tuvo su origen Chile, desde donde se expandió a otras regiones del Virreinato del Perú.

Referencias

Enlaces externos
 Sitio web oficial

Parroquias rurales de Quito

redpajama_set_name: RedPajamaWikipedia


Phone Number in Nooksack. Find a Phone Number, Address or other Contact Detail, like Email Address and Profiles of people or friends who live in Nooksack, Washington, USA. Results of Phone Numbers and Addresses in any Street.


text:
Q: Bringing symbology into ArcGIS Pro from ArcMap is bringing data with it? I have tried bringing in symbology from ArcMap to ArcGIS Pro, but when I did this, the data within the ArcMap document came along with it..I just want to bring symbology only! Otherwise I will need to create symbology that took quite a long time to create. Is it possible to JUST bring the symbology?

A: You may add ArcMap styles (*.style) into Pro, see:
Add a custom style to the project

redpajama_set_name: RedPajamaStackExchange


text:
Q: use table data within text and in an axis environment In a long table they inform me about an experiment with particles, in the first column I have radio data and in the second column, I have energy data. In my document, I need to call randomly some entries of the table, put some of the data inside the text and inside a graph...
Someone can help me with this
this is an example of what I need
     \documentclass[preview,varwidth ,multi,border=1pt]{standalone}
        \usepackage[dvipsnames,svgnames,x11names,]{xcolor}
        \usepackage{amsmath,mathtools,calculator}
        \usepackage{pgf,tikz,tikz-3dplot,pgfplotstable}
        \usepackage{pgfplots}
        \usepackage[american]{circuitikz}
        \begin{filecontents}{data.txt}
        0.474755603 -2.617688065
        0.480207314 -2.617688065
        0.498670832 -2.613546026
        0.505624541 -2.613546026
        0.531427103 -2.608245746
        0.536149545 -2.608245746
        0.556303011 -2.60379021
        0.567304966 -2.60379021
        0.594408618 -2.540699892
        0.598532384 -2.540699892
        0.631298237 -2.537487595
        0.645293424 -2.537224219
        0.658945477 -2.537224219
        0.67676829  -2.534871304
        0.701739581 -2.534863082
        0.714640691 -2.533026806
        0.738534607 -2.532913819
    ...
        \end{filecontents}

        \begin{document}
        \preview
        The radii of the first element is ¿data(1,1)? and the 165th is ¿data(165,1)?, and the plot shows....

        \begin{tikzpicture}
        \begin{axis}[xlabel={},ylabel={}, axis x line=bottom,
        axis y line=center,
        xmin=-75,
        xmax=60,
        ymin=-3.5,
        ymax=2,
        ,axis line style={draw=none},
        ticks=none
        ]
        \addplot[Silver,mark=none] table[x index=0,y index=1,col sep=tab, restrict x to domain=-60:60 ] {Periodic_Well1.txt}; %this works fine
        \addplot[DeepPink,mark=none, smooth, line width=0.8pt] table[x index=0,y index=2,col sep=tab, restrict x to domain=-60:60 ] {Periodic_Well1.txt}; %this works fine
        \fill[Orange, opacity=0.5] (axis cs:-65,{-pi})-- (axis cs: -65,2)--(axis cs: -70,2)--(axis cs: -70,{-pi})--cycle; %energy scale
----->?       \draw (axis cs:-65,data(2,1)) --(axis cs:-70,data(2,1)) node[right]{$data(2,1)$};
----->?        \draw (axis cs:-65,data(2,74)) --(axis cs:-70,data(2,74)) node[right]{$data(2,74)$};
        \end{axis}
        \end{tikzpicture}
        \endpreview
        \end{document}

data(n,m) indicates that it is the entry in row n and column m
Thanks...

A: Here is a function element that gets an element of your table. The syntax is element(<row>,<column>), where both row and column start at 0.
\documentclass[preview,varwidth ,multi,border=1pt]{standalone}
\usepackage[dvipsnames,svgnames,x11names,]{xcolor}
\usepackage{pgfplots}
\pgfplotsset{compat=1.17}
\begin{filecontents}{data.txt}
0.474755603 -2.617688065
0.480207314 -2.617688065
0.498670832 -2.613546026
0.505624541 -2.613546026
0.531427103 -2.608245746
0.536149545 -2.608245746
0.556303011 -2.60379021
0.567304966 -2.60379021
0.594408618 -2.540699892
0.598532384 -2.540699892
0.631298237 -2.537487595
0.645293424 -2.537224219
0.658945477 -2.537224219
0.67676829  -2.534871304
0.701739581 -2.534863082
0.714640691 -2.533026806
0.738534607 -2.532913819
\end{filecontents}
\pgfmathdeclarefunction{element}{2}{\begingroup
\pgfkeys{/pgf/fpu,/pgf/fpu/output format=fixed}%
\pgfmathtruncatemacro{\myindex}{max(0,#1)}%
\pgfmathtruncatemacro{\mycol}{#2}%
\pgfplotstablegetelem{\myindex}{[index]\mycol}\of\mydata%#1=row, #2=column
\edef\pgfmathresult{\pgfplotsretval}%
\pgfmathsmuggle\pgfmathresult
\endgroup}
\pgfplotstableread{data.txt}\mydata

\begin{document}
\preview
The radii of the first element is $\pgfmathparse{element(1,1)}
\mathtt{data(1,1)}=\pgfmathresult\simeq\pgfmathprintnumber\pgfmathresult$
and the 165th is  \texttt{data(165,1)}, and the plot shows\dots

\begin{tikzpicture}
\begin{axis}[xlabel={},ylabel={}, axis x line=bottom,
axis y line=center,
% xmin=-75,
% xmax=60,
% ymin=-3.5,
% ymax=2,
,axis line style={draw=none},
ticks=none
]
\addplot[Silver,mark=none]
    table[header=false,x index=0,y index=1,restrict x to domain=-60:60]
    {data.txt}; %this works fine
% \addplot[DeepPink,mark=none, smooth, line width=0.8pt]
% table[x index=0,y index=1,col sep=tab, restrict x to domain=-60:60 ]
% {data.txt}; %this works fine
%\fill[Orange, opacity=0.5] (axis cs:-65,{-pi})-- (axis cs: -65,2)--(axis cs: -70,2)--(axis cs: -70,{-pi})--cycle; %energy scale
% ----->?
\draw (-1,{element(2,1)}) --(1,{element(2,1)}) coordinate (21);
\draw (-1,{element(5,1)}) --(1,{element(5,1)}) coordinate (51);
\end{axis}
\path (21-|current axis.east) node[right]{$\mathtt{data}(2,1)$}
 (51-|current axis.east) node[right]{$\mathtt{data}(5,1)$};
\end{tikzpicture}
\endpreview
\end{document}

I had to comment out xmax and so on since otherwise the plot is almost invisible.


text:
Q: Broken pipes! Problem with using named pipes to link together 2 standalone programs I have two command line programs that typically are run in serial on a linux system.
Typical execution for both programs is simply this:

*

*Program A is run. It is input a simple text file and it outputs a simple text file.

*Program B is run after A, its input is the text file that program A produced. It also outputs a simple text file.

Note: for both of the above programs, their inputs and outputs are simply paths to the respective input and output files. Example:
$ prog_a /path/to/inputfile/dataIn.txt /path/to/outputfile/dataOut.txt
$ prog_b /path/to/inputfile/dataOut.txt /path/to/outputfile/results.txt
These are programs that were developed by third parties. Thus we cannot easily modify them (at least not in a timely manner). However we want to speed up execution by running them in parallel using named pipes. The data files are extremely large at times and parallel processing we assume would speed things up. I have been tasked with this project and have proceeded as follows.
Wrote a bash script where:

*

*Create a named pipe that links the two programs. Call it dataOut.pipe

*Program A reads in the text file as usual but instead of writing to a text file like before, it writes to the pipe created in step 1, dataOut.pipe

*Program B reads in the pipe that was output from program A.

The bash script looks something like this:
\#!/bin/bash
mkfifo dataOut.pipe
prog_b dataOut.pipe  results.txt &
prog_a dataIn.txt  dataOut.pipe
rm dataOut.pipe

Now this works... sometimes... Many times I get a java exception spitout to stderror. And I cannot figure out what exactly the problem is but I think it is something along the line of this:
Could program B sometimes run faster than A and clean out the pipe faster than A can put data into it, which causes the whole thing to crater?
If that is the case, what is an easy work around? Or could there be something else going on?

A: A broken pipe means that the writer (prog_a) is trying to write into a pipe that was closed by its reader (prog_b). You don't give us enough information to figure out why prog_b stops so quickly.
That said, you assume that prog_b reads its input file sequentially until EOF is met, and process each line as they are read, like a regular Unix filter command. Are you sure of that? If prog_b wants to seek into its input file, or mmap it, your are doomed (same for prog_a). And if prog_b wants to read all the input lines and only then process them, you will hardly achieve anything in parallelizing prog_a and prog_b because prog_b will start its processing only when the pipe is closed, that is when prog_a has ended.


Statistician Riona Dade knows all about probabilities. Still, even she'd tell you the chances of discovering you're a witch, being appointed to the demon-slaying trio known as the Pure Souls, and finding yourself sinfully attracted to a catholic priest who uses amen and other four-lettered words with equal enthusiasm are pretty slim. Also learning your ex was once Hell's first-round draft pick, and realizing you're a prize catch for Satan's soul-damning quota leaves a girl feeling like she just won the lottery while being struck by lightning while riding a unicorn across Atlantis.
Trying to keep her mind off role playing the Thornbirds with Father Angeletti, Riona leads the Pure Souls against a maniacal menagerie of Mephistopheles's minions plaguing greater Boston. Giving in to lust is a direct flight to damnation for both her and the priest, leading Riona to distract herself by striking up a romance with her new, foxy neighbor, Lucy. But she can't shake her attraction to Marcello, and as the tension between them grows thicker than a lumberjack's beard, temptation may become too difficult to resist.
As Dee sauntered away, Riona focused on the priest's expression. Marc wasn't in his collar and coat today, but always carried the air of the clergyman within to some degree, like he wore his collar on the inside.
She took in the rugged cut of his jaw, the stubble that showed he hadn't shaved in a day or two. He wasn't bad looking by any measure, and he probably could have been quite the heartbreaker if he wasn't a man of God. His eyes weren't brown, they were black, and glistened like onyx pendants. A firm jaw and supple lips were likely often employed more for battling the fires of Hell than fanning the flames of lust. Nevertheless, the tools were there to be used, if he so desired. For a man of the cloth, he sure cut that cloth fine. The priest rose to what she considered the perfect height, had a body not too muscular, but hardly milk toasty, and a swagger in his walk that would make a lady think he could move his body in all the ways the good Lord intended.
If only his collar and his personality weren't pressed with double starch.
"Paolo's is the best pizza in town. Trust me on that, I'm Italian." Sarcasm wasn't his most attractive trait, but it was one of the most prominent.
"Technically, the Catholic Church isn't kosher with anything," he returned.


text:
ACCEPTED

#### According to
Index Fungorum

#### Published in
Annls hist. -nat. Mus. natn. hung. 7: 54 (1909)

#### Original name
Septoria periplocae Hollós

### Remarks
null


text:
» Republibot 3.0's blog
» ORIGINAL FICTION: "Sloe Eyes" by Republibot 3.0
ORIGINAL FICTION: "Sloe Eyes" by Republibot 3.0
Republibot 3.0
"She sure is ugly!" The orderly said.
She was just standing there like a manequin. The girl was possessed of looks that at first seemed modely and desirable: tall, thin, leggy, curvey, blank expression, short, but very thick tussled hair, pouting mouth, and most striking of all, large, dark, almond-shaped eyes. Then the eye settled in a bit, and started noticing details missed on the first pass: she was too tall, and too thin, her head was a little bit too big, her mouth was a bit too small, her hair appeared to be painted on and her eyes, her unblinking eyes, were far, far, far too large.
"Well, we don't like to say it like that," the head nurse said, "But yeah. You noticed faster than most males on the staff. That's interesting."
"Well, most guys meet her on their rounds and their immediate reaction is 'wow, she's pretty,' then it kind of hits them that she's not. It's like something from a dream, you know? Like when you're hanging out with your best friend, and they sorta' change into a rat or something" The nurse said. She sized him up for a moment. "Gay?" she asked.
Arturo sighed. "Si."
"Closeted?" The nurse - Caroline - asked.
"Of course. Show me a maricon who isn't?"
"It's ok," she said, "I won't tell anyone. I mean, Grant Hospital don't have a rule against it or anything, but, you know…some people…."
"Si, yes, I know."
"Anyway, wanna' see something trippy?"
"I don't know, do I?"
"I don't know. Do you?" Caroline said, grinning. Arturo faked a smile. 'Yet another straight chick who's decided she needs to be my big sister. Tedious,' he thought, but what he said was, "Go for it."
Caroline pulled a Hershey's kiss out the pocket of her scrubs, unwrapped it, and held it in her outstretched hand, palm up.
The girl's head turned like it was on a lazy susan, totally flat, with no random motion at all. Without changing expression. Then she turned and headed towards them, her gait, her pace, her motion all wrong. Arturo realized with a start that her joints were all wrong! Her biceps were much longer than her forearms, and her upper thighs were much longer than her lower legs. It was like watching a sloth walking on its hind legs, but she was fast! She was on them in a second. When her hand snatched the candy away from Caroline it was a blur, but he was sure he saw extra knuckles on the fingers. Then she went back to the center of the room and resumed her passive statue pose.
"Ok, now your turn," Caroline said.
"Uhm, I don't think…"
"She's on your case load, you need to establish a rapport."
"Ok," he said reluctantly. "Give me a candy," but his hand wasn't where he expected it to be: He'd unconsciously grabbed the door handle in a death grip, almost ready to bolt out of there. Embarrassed, he let go. His knuckles were still white when she dropped the chocolate in it.
Officially her name was "Jane Doe 3278." She was a ward of the State of Florida, a hard luck case, with no known family. She was a mass of birth defects and/or mutations, evidently, and mentally retarded. After being bounced around from facility to facility, she'd ended up in the long-term psych ward in the 'Little Havana' section of Miami. She'd been found floating in the wreckage of what was assumed to be a light aircraft in the second month of the Mariel Boatlift, about seven years earlier. Some Cubans passing on a raft had fished her out of the wreck, and carried her along. A few days later, they were rescued by the Coast Guard. Upon questioning, none of the Cubanos had actually seen the plane crash, it had already been in the water when they found it. Given her olive skin and dark hair - or whatever it was - and the fact that she'd shown up with a bunch of Cubans in the middle of a mass exodus of Cubans, it was assumed that she, herself, was Cuban. This was by no means clear, however.
'Well, duh,' thought Arturo, 'She's an alien.'
He told no one, however. If a culture could be as phobic as his, willing to kill people over something as small as a sexual preference he never intended to act on anyway (Arturo was a virgin, and despite his proclivities, a good Catholic boy), what would their phobia do to an alien in their midst? 'I mean, look how scared they are of AIDS…what horrible diseases will they claim she has?'
Actually, what horrible diseases might she have?
He checked the file while Wall of Voodoo's cover of "Do it Again" played on the radio. Between May 8th, 1980, and July of 1987, there was no record of her being sick, nor was there a record of any staff getting sick from being around her. Ok, safe enough.
He tested his theory:
"Hola" he said. She said nothing. He continued to speak in Spanish, but she neither moved nor acknowledged him, even when he stood in front of her so she couldn't help but see him. Her eyes were really big, disturbingly so, like the eyes of children in cartoons, or that ugly Mexican velvet art, disproportionately big. He mentally calculated how large the rest of her eyeballs must be inside her skull, and suppressed a shudder. They must be the size of baseballs. Was there even any room in her skull for a brain? Disturbing.
"Yo soy de Cuba. Es usted de Cuba, tambien?" He asked. She didn't react. "No, you're not, are you?" He sized her up. "I am. I was 22 when I got thrown out. Came here to the 'States, not particularly wanted, lived in the tent city for a year, living on army rations, didn't speak a word of English. It got better. It's not great now, but it's far better." She continued to ignore him. Or was she? Maybe this was full attention for her kind? Assuming she actually was an alien, of course. Maybe this was flight or fight? There was no record of her ever doing anything violent, but you never know: today could be the day she snapped.
"We need to come up with a name for you, something better than 'Jane Doe.'" He walked around her, pretending to be thinking, but he'd already had a name in mind when he came in. "You have very pretty eyes," he lied, "Very big and dark. How about we call you 'Sloey?' Rhymes with 'Chloe,' or 'Zoe,' but both of those seem like fat girl names to me. And you're kinda' unique, seems to me you should have a unique name. What do you think?" She ignored him.
"Ok, 'Sloey' it is then. You like music, Sloey?" Her bed - never used - was directly in front of her. He would have sat on that, but the hospital had strict rules about that sort of thing, so he went over to the wall opposite the door and sat on the floor. He sang her "Walk like an Egyptian." Her head made it's creepy lazy susan turn, and her huge eyes stared sightlessly at him.
Work, home, eat, sleep, work, home, eat, sleep, occasionally church, occasionally friends, but his friends wanted to do things with him that would have made them more than friends, and he wasn't emotionally receptive to that for a whole bunch of reasons best left buried in his memories of the country he'd fled. It was a fairly empty life, but over the next few months, it expanded quite a bit: Work, Home, Eat, Sleep, Sloey, work, home, eat, sleep, Sloey, occasionally church. He still had friends, but he spent less time with them, and more time with the alien girl every day. Caroline and the other staff found this weird at first. Someone had even called human resources and the police to do an investigation, and make sure he wasn't taking sexual advantage of her - yeah, like that was gonna' happen - but eventually everyone decided it was on the up-and-up, and just kind of let it slide. He was meticulous about keeping up his other duties, but he spent at least an hour with her every day.
He sang her stupid top-40 songs, and fed her, and bathed her, and tested out the theory - surreptitiously, of course - that she wasn't blind, but that those big eyes saw different wavelengths. He brought in a blacklight flashlight, and shined it on the wall. Sure enough, her eyes tracked it!
He told her stories. Mostly long, rambling things about life, or recaps of things he'd seen on TV, told as though they happened to him. Then it occurred to him he needed something simpler. He got some children's picture-books - "A is for Apple" and so on - and painstakingly went over them UV paints, so she could see them. Then he read them to her. He'd figured by this time that she could see a little bit of the visible spectrum, but it was probably vague and indistinct and phantasmagorical to her. His hand would be a black, spectral blot on the page, probably frightening her. Though her expression was as changeless as a china doll, he began to realize she had some emotions in there, and he could sense when she was upset. He painted some gloves as well, and used them to point.
"She has no vocal cords, you know," Caroline said.
"Yeah, I know," he said.
"So why are you trying to teach her to talk?"
"I'm not. I'm trying to teach her to read. She doesn't understand Spanish, as far as we know, she didn't pick up English from seven years in the cell, maybe if we can teach her to communicate a little, she can pick up sign language. Or maybe even if she can just understand us a little, it'll improve her quality of life. 'Don't touch that, it's hot' and that sort of thing."
"Nope, uh-uh, not gonna' happen. She's massively M.R. Have you seen her CATscan?"
"Somebody did a CATscan of a Cuban refugee? Did they even have 'em back then?"
"No, not back then, but a couple years ago some med school interns did one. I'm not sure why. She's got massive brain stuff going on. Check it out in records."
He did. Sure enough, her massive eyes left little room in her skull for a brain, and what there was primarily ended up sandwiched in the back, much lower than in a normal human. Interestingly, the area that roughly corresponded to the Occipital Lobe was much larger than normal, and extended well down her neck. It seemed to combine with the upper part of her spinal cord, which was much thicker and more developed than one would expect, though only part of it showed in the scan.
At roughly that same moment, a SETI station received their first-ever signal from an alien spacecraft. Typically, no one noticed. No one had any real idea what a message from aliens would look like, they just assumed they'd recognize it when they saw it. They were wrong, however, and mistook it for background static. Even if anyone had noticed it, however, even if it had made the news, it likely would have been overshadowed by the unexpected recovery of the terminal AIDS patient in the next room over from Sloey.
His name was Richard Demarest, but he mostly went by the stage name "Big Mama Daddy." He was a morbidly obese drag queen, until he'd gotten 'the gay cancer' and it had ravaged his body. He'd withered away, and then it got into his brain and he became violent. He was in the long-term ward at Grant not because he was expected to last long, but mostly because the rooms were padded, and the orderlies and guards were burly and good at their jobs. He posed no real threat there, though he would if he got loose and tore around a better hospital. Then he started getting better.
The disease disappeared from his body. His wits returned, he was horribly embarrassed for his behavior, his body mass started coming back, but he didn't get fat again. He seemed locked in at a solid 190 pounds.
Arturo was reading Sloey a meticulously hand-painted version of "The Ugly Duckling," that he'd made from scratch. Same old story, of course, nothing special, but it seemed apropos. He got to the part about how lonely the ugly duckling felt, being shunned by those around her when…
*lonely?*
She spoke! He heard her, clear as day! He was staggered!
"Did you just speak?" he asked.
*Lonely?* she said again. 'But wait,' he thought, 'she doesn't have the equipment to speak. How can she…?' He threw open the door, and yelled "Caroline, come here, I need you!" She came presently. "Can you hear this?" he asked, then started to tell Sloey to speak again, but thought the better of it. Instead he just pointed at the picture of the sad duckling.
*Lonely?* she said.
"Did you hear that?" Arturo asked Caroline?
"Hear what?"
He pointed at the picture. Sloey said it again.
"That?"
"I don't hear anything."
"Ok. I wasn't sure if I was or not," Arturo covered. He slapped together a quick lie: "It sounded like something in the wall, like a pipe had broken or something."
Somewhere deep in space an alien ship came closer to earth, broadcasting all the while so as not to frighten people when they arrived. No one noticed. There was a mission en rout to Mars at the time, but they mistook the signal as radiation from an ancient supernova.
Arturo petitioned the hospital, and then the state, to get Sloey released into his custody, as her primary caregiver. It was surprisingly easy, as the Reagan Administration was ever budget-conscious, and having some gay immigrant dude taking care of her in his apartment was far, far cheaper than giving her a hospital room for the next few decades.
He moved her into his apartment, and began teaching her to read and write, albeit only in blacklight ink. He also taught her how to play the Ukulele. She was surprisingly smart, and a surprisingly fast study. She was, he was pretty sure, just a child, and he was also pretty sure she was emotionally disturbed from her long and basically empty incarceration. Imagine taking a toddler, and dropping them in a kennel with no human interactions, no support, no love, and leaving them like that for seven years! He tried having some of the local kids over to play with her, but her enormous height, subliminally spooky looks, and the freaky way she moved traumatized them. That made matters worse. So much for her socialization.
Still and all, he now got to spend half the day with her. That was a good thing.
"What I don't get," he said, "Is why it took you so long to speak to someone. If you're telepathic?"
*Need learn words. Thought is words.*
*Think so. Si. See picture, but don't own picture until know word. No talk picture.*
That kind of made sense. He had just always assumed telepathy would be some kind of magical grocking thing, but, no, inasmuch as thought is an internalized vocalization - a person talking to themselves essentially - it made sense. He smiled at how some of her thought/words were in English and some in Spanish.
*What happen now?* she asked.
"I honestly don't know, mi hija," he said. "Teach you, love you, make a life for you."
*People scare me. Me scare people.*
"Doesn't matter," he said, "Ugly ducklings, beautiful swan. You'll grow into something people will find beautiful on some level. Maybe you and me both, who knows?" He tried to give her a hug, or cuddle up with her, but she just stood there in the middle of the floor, impassive, not returning the hug. Whatever her species was, they were not apparently physically demonstrative. They didn't move unless they had a specific purpose for doing so.
Big Mama Daddy dropped dead of AIDS ten days after Sloey left the hospital. No one could understand it. He was literally fine one day, without a trace of the disease, and in the best health - both mental and physical - of his entire life. Then, suddenly, he was riddled with it, and then about a day after it re-appeared, he was gone. An old man with terminal cancer lived in the apartment below Arturo. There was no Hospice in Florida in those days, but he had family and friends taking care of him, and he wished to expire in his home, rather than a hospital. But he didn't. He started getting stronger, putting on weight. After a couple weeks of not dying, he went to the nearest hospital for a checkup - which just happened to be Grant - and was pronounced to be in total remission. These events probably would have gone unnoticed, or at least unassociated, were it not for Caroline's personal physician asking her a lot of gynecological questions.
"Why is this relevant? I had a hysterectomy ten years ago."
"Well obviously you didn't."
"I think I'd remember that."
"Well, I see no sign of it here," and he showed her his information. Sure enough: whatever she'd had removed had evidently grown back, and was in perfect working order.
Telephone, Telegraph, Tell-a-priest. Some, it seems, take the seal of the confessional more seriously than others. They are human, after all, and the road to advancement is always appealing. If one can't dispense miracles one's own self and become a saint, discovering a new saint is almost as good, and is a fast track to monsignor as well. The word got out.
It would have eventually anyway, as Carol and others were putting the pieces together: It turns out that no one had died in any of the rooms adjacent to Sloey's in the seven years she'd been in the ward, nor had any of the staff working in any of those rooms gotten sick. She brought this to the attention of the hospital administrator, who started making phone calls. Eventually the calls would attract the attention of the government, but for now the white folk still hadn't managed to connect the dots. For the time being, the truth - that there was a healer living on South West 17th Street - was spread only among the superstitious and ignorant. The people who haven't learned to disbelieve what they're told yet.
First it was people in the neighborhood, then the surrounding area, then there were long lines of Cubanos all waiting to see 'La chica fea.' Eventually they just started calling her 'La Fea." Then it spread to the Hatians, chanting for 'La Laide.' This then became, 'La Fille Laide.' Then, as they came to associate her with the voodoo goddess of healing, this changed to 'La Fille Gran Bwa.' This was too much for a Catholic boy like himself.
"But what can I do?" he asked her.
*Why this bothers you?* she asked, *Jesus not I. Mary not I. They think Mary am I. This not bother you? Why it bother you they think I someone you not believe in?*
He had to admit she had a point. Still…
"If I let them let them think this is happening because of some evil magical crap, then it makes it look like their beliefs are real. That means I'm helping their…uhm…church gain strength, and hurting my own. I can't do that."
*Can't turn sick away. Jesus say so. Explain to them truth.*
"I can't do that, either."
*Why?*
"Because I'm pretty sure you're not human, and, well, I'm afraid if that got out they'd take you away from me."
*Not want go away.*
"I don't that either. So we keep it quiet for now."
*Voodoo people bring chickens. Chickens tasty. No buy own food. Not all bad, yes?*
He laughed. "Yeah, they're intended for sacrifice. They're bringing more than we can eat, but, yeah, I guess we could give 'em to the neighbor kids. I saw some goats, too." She gave a pleasant, warm mental noise that ran through his whole being, a moment of overwhelming caritas and glee that he realized was her version of laughter. The people within a few hundred feet felt it, too.
"Does it hurt you?" He asked.
*What?*
"The healings. Does it hurt you? Tire you out? Take anything from you?"
*Easy as breathing,* she said, *It what I born for.*
He didn't actually need to be in the same room with her to keep an eye on her. Well, an ear, anyway. She was continually psychically in touch with him, as long as he was within about a mile. Recently they'd worked out a trick where she could transmit sounds to him, as well as her own thoughts. He could hear what her supplicants were asking if she chose to send it. There were a lot of supplicants. Hundreds a day, maybe more. They were lined up around the block. Literally.
He was on the apartment pool deck, barbecuing chicken when the process server found him, and had him sign or a big manila envelope, then scampered away.
"Oh, bad luck," an elderly stranger with an ugly shirt and an uglier New York accent said. Arturo nodded, not knowing quite what to do with the thing.
"Can I take a look at that?" The New Yorker asked.
"I don't know if I should…"
"Ah, it's not a problem," the man said, and whisked it away from him. Rifling through the contents, he summarized, "You're being sued by the family of someone named 'Demarest' for wrongful death. They're saying you withheld medical services."
"That's insane. I didn't do that. I don't even know who that is!"
"Chicken smells good. About done?"
"Huh?" Arturo looked. It was actually getting a little black on one side. He'd forgotten what he'd been doing for a moment.
*You ok?" Sloe thought
"Yes, I'm fine, honey," he said/thought back at her.
"What?" said the elderly man.
"Nothing. Sorry. Distracted. You want some chicken?"
"Yeah, thanks!" He handed Arturo the papers - which instantly got cheap Kraft barbeque sauce on them - and Arturo handed him a quarter of a bird.
"You know, we could take care of that for you," he said.
"Take care of what?" Arturo asked.
"Legal hassles. Make the case go away." Arturo motioned for one of the other folks from the apartment to step in and take over the grills. He had three going at once, and most of the pilgrims to see his unofficially adopted alien daughter hadn't thought to bring food. They were waiting for hours in the hot Florida sun, many with children. He was making sure they got fed.
"Are you a lawyer," Arturo asked.
"With this accent?" the man laughed, "No, other end of the spectrum, my friend" he said.
"The Mob?" Arturo asked. The old man just smiled.
"One of 'em. We take a piece of your action here, we give you protection from the cops, the lawyers, and most importantly, anyone else who wants to take a piece of your action, like the family of your dead faggot friend there."
"Calla la boca!"
"Ok, ok, sorry," the man said, "Anyway…"
"…And I'm not getting any 'action'," Arturo said, "I'm doing this for free."
"Well there's your first problem. As your business advisor…"
*Healed sick old lady. Left. Man here now. Not sick. Wants winning lottery number.*
"Give Jimmy the sigh, he'll get rid of him," Arturo said/thought.
"What?" said the gangster. Up in the apartment, Sloey made a graceful walking motion with her four-knuckled fingers, and Jimmy, one of the neighbor kids, showed the man to the door.
On the pool deck, the gangster asked what Arturo was talking about. He was about to say 'it doesn't matter' when an angry black man ran up and started screaming, "Batard! Ce ne sont pas vos poulets!"
"What? I don't speak…"
"Ils sont pour la deesse!" He flew into a rage and kicked over the grills. One of them fell into the pool with a loud cloud of steam, the others clanged loudly on the concrete, scattering hot charcoals everywhere as people skittered out of the way. Arturo sighed.
"Aw, that's a shame about the chicken," the mafia guy said, eating a piece from his paper plate, "It really was good, too."
"I don't suppose you could do anything about stuff like that?" Arturo said, indicating the angry Hatian man who was kicking a hole through the rotting plywood fence.
"Voodoo stuff? Nah. Those guys are crazy. We won't touch 'em, but we can figure some way to turn 'em away."
"Look…what's your name?"
"Ok, look, man, I'm going to tell you what I told the Cuban Mafia last week…"
"'Cuban Mafia,'" the old man scoffed, "Bush leagues. We're the real thing, Arturo. You're never gonna' get a better deal than this. You get to keep the freak - "
"Ella no es un monstruo!"
" - you get to keep a lot of the money, you get protection, it's a good deal. I don't speak Spanish, by the way, so you'd best not be calling me names. I got friends listening in. They'll tell me if you are."
"Wait a minute: How did you know Demarest was gay? It wouldn't have said that in the summons."
"Saw it written on a bathroom wall."
"You set this up, didn't you?"
"Just think it over. Thanks for the chicken." He set down his paper plate and plastic fork, and snapped his fingers, but they were too greasy. He wiped them on the manila envelope, then tried again. As if on cue -for it was a cue - two uniformed police men came forward. The old guy handed Arturo his card. "Call me if you need anything," he said and walked off.
"Are you Arturo Navarro?" one of the cops asked.
"Si. Yes?"
"We've been receiving complaints about how this little faith healing show of yours has been blocking traffic. The neighbors are talking about people keeping them up all night, and people taking dumps in their yards." He was black and had a Jamaican accent.
"We're shutting you down," the other cop said.
Three things were never far beneath the surface in Miami in the late '80s: Sex, Drugs, and Violence. As soon as the security detail showed with barricades, and started ushering people away, the fighting started. This quickly expanded to gunfire, since one out of five people below the poverty line were packing heat at any given time. The patrolmen fell back, Arturo realized that the 'violence' staple of city life was what they had been counting on all along. It too such a tiny push to start a riot, and the SWAT teams rolled in way too quickly, as if they'd been waiting a block away - which in fact they had - for an excuse to come in. Was the whole department on the mob's take? Maybe. Corruption was a fact of life in the city.
In any event, undergirding the three pillars of city life was good old fashioned Floridian incompetence. The riot grew far larger, far quicker than anyone goading it had realized. The SWAT teams were clearly not taking it seriously when they rolled in. A squad hopped out of the back of an armored van, all of them loudly humming the theme from the old SWAT TV show with Robert Urich. As they moved towards Arturo's apartment building, a LAWS rocket ripped from the shrubs, and sailed into the open door of the van. The whole thing exploded. The SWAT team - knocked flat by the concussion of the blast - stopped humming. The crowd was on them in a moment, and the didn't survive long. Miami was the major port of exit in the illegal weapons trade with Latin America in those days. There were plenty of rockets and grenade launchers and flame throwers on hand, should the need arise.
*What happen?*
"Coming up now, don't be scared."
*Scared.*
"No, no, don't be scared. I'm almost there."
*Scared.* for a block or two in every direction, everyone felt their bowels turn to water. With the cops driven back, the riot outside worsened, poor Cubans and Hatians turning on each other for control of the building and the healer, both sides turning on any other lesser groups that tried to gain access . Arturo ran in to his apartment, and hugged Sloey.
"It's ok," he said, "there, there, it's ok. I'm here now. I'll keep you safe." He sang her "Crazy" by Icehouse not because it was even remotely appropriate, but because it was the only song he could think of at that moment that he knew all the words to, and she needed to hear him sing something innocuous.
*Safe* she thought, said, *Still nervous.* Throughout the neighborhood, everyone's bowels calmed down, but they were all still on edge.
"It's ok, honey," he said as he looked out the window, but what he actually thought was 'we are great and mightily screwed.'
They moved into the central hallway, since it didn't have any windows to get shot out, and all the apartments were quickly littered with broken glass. He sang stupid songs to her, and read her little nursery stories. She calmed down. There were still people in the building, of course. Plenty of food, plenty of water, and being Miami, plenty of rum. The city cut the power, though, so it got hot fairly quickly. They improvised another grill and started barbecuing more chicken, though, and that raised everyone's spirits again. As Sloey went to sleep that night, he decided to chance hitting the can.
There were three CIA helicopters, and then, suddenly, there were two. There was, however, one lest LAWS rocket in the crowd after that. Gunfire erupted, and the street looked like a scene from a World War II movie. The flaming wreck of the stricken copter smashed down on the building across the street, collapsing it, and setting it instantly ablaze. Rioters fled the chaost, as one of the other two 'Copters took up a better position, and started opening fire on the crowd with miniguns.
*What that?* she thought, startling awake from the noise.
"Dunno! Coming!" he yelled, jumped up from the toilet, and fought to pull his pants up without even thinking of wiping first.
Most of the rioters ran like crazy from the hail of death, but a lot of them realized there was nowhere to go, and held their ground. They fired on the thing. Small caliber bullets didn't do much against its armor or glass, but there were some heavier rifles, and while one or two wasp stings are merely annoying, a few hundred can kill. The Helicopter pulled back while the third one landed on the roof of Arturo's building. Black-suited troops, who were taking the situation far more seriously than the local cops had, poured out, and stormed down the fire escapes. They were on her in no time.
*Men here!* she thought/shouted. Arturo again felt his bowels turn to water. She was scared and projecting her fear. Justifiably so. As he went through the door, he had it kicked back in his face. He flew back, tripping ass-over-teakettle over the toilet, and fell in a painful slump on the floor against the wall. The door opened, and a man was there with an M-16 pointed at him.
"Stay down sir," the man said. Arturo didn't know what to do.
*Men taking me!* They dragged her down the hall.
"Fight back!" he shouted/thought.
"Be quiet, sir," the CIA goon said sternly.
In the hall, Sloey flailed around, her long, sloth-like arms surprisingly fast, surprisingly strong. She kicked, she flailed, she bit, it wasn't a fight, it wasn't a martial art, she was simply a terrified child having a tantrum. It was surprisingly effective, though, and more than a few of the goons went down, thrown off balance by the unpredictable ferocity of her attack, and the waves of fear rolling off her, and unexpectedly inundating their own minds.
Finally, one of them simply ran down the hall at full speed and tackled her from behind. Easy to do as she was all-but-blind anyway. She went down, dazed, semi coherent. For a block in every direction, everyone - even the goons - saw stars and gasped, as though they'd been kicked in the face. They were trained to take punishment and keep on going, though, and Sloey wasn't. She succumbed. They dragged her unconscious form up the stairs to the 'Copter on the roof.
Tears streamed down his face, he was panicked, hurt, in pain, confused, the only thing he cared about in the world being ripped away from him. "Sloey, wake up!" He screamed.
"Last warning, sir. Stay down and shut up, or I shoot!" The goon sounded stern, but looked unsettled. He was leaning on the doorjamb like he needed it. 'Could I maybe take him?' Arturo thought.
*Papa,* she said/thought, *On roof. Help. Taking me.* She was beyond terrified, she was on the edge of hysteria.
Arturo noticed the goon in the doorway was peeing himself, and then he noticed absently that he'd done so as well. He tensed. He had to go for it. He gripped the shower frame, ready to spring to his feet. Would he make it? He wasn't a fit man in his prime, and they had the drop on him. Still: He loved her, and he had to. He had to. He couldn't live if he didn't.
He tried to get up. The goon took a shot, missed, looked confused - there really was no way he could have, but his hands were shaking and he felt sick and couldn't figure out why - so he lined up another shot.
On the 'Copter, one of the officers in charge said, "Should we recover Navarro, or just terminate him?" Sloey heard him, and broadcast it to Arturo, and he knew beyond any doubt that he was going to die. The thought of losing the only person who loved her pushed her over the edge into catatonia. In the bathroom two floors down, the goon lined up the shot directly on Arturo's head, and pulled the trigger. Again he missed the shot, but only because he passed out before the impulses made it from his brain to his fingers. Ironically, the other officer had been about to say, "No, now that we've achieved the primary objective, we need to take him into custody as well," but he didn't manage to get that out before he passed out.
Everyone on the 'copter on the roof passed out, too. In the other copter, a few hundred feet up, the crew passed out as well. It spiraled out of control, and hit a parking garage two blocks over, exploding. Everyone in the building passed out. Every one of the rioters outside were down as well. In fact, everyone from the near side of Brickel all the way up into the eastern side of Grapeland Heights, and from Allapattah down to Shenandoah were unconscious.
Everyone except Arturo.
Though still awake, he felt like crap. He made his way unsteadily to the roof, and found her. She didn't seem hurt, though he was pretty sure she was unconscious. It was hard to be sureHe carried her like a pieta, which was no easy feat as she was taller than him, and nearly as heavy. Then he banged her head and feet on the edges of the narrow stairwell, realized dignity wasn't going to work here, and slung her over his shoulder like a sack of laundry.
Should he try to wake her up? He decided against it. For all he knew, if she calmed down the madness would start again. He laid her on a water stained mattress in the hall, then went into the glass-strewn ruin of his apartment, cleaned up with wet-wipes, and changed clothes. He packed a suitcase full of clothes for the both of them, and another with food. Then he went through the wallets of everyone in the building, and took as much money as he could find. They could track him by credit card, but cash is anonymous. All this took an hour, during which time she was still basically out of it, but twitching a bit.
With her slung over his shoulder, and awkwardly dragging his luggage, he made his way to his car. It had a boot on the wheel, and unconscious guards. He laughed, then looked around for another car. There were several police vehicles with their engines still running, so he took the one that looked least banged up. Initially he headed off towards the glades on Southwest 8th street - well, roads paralleling it, anyway - but he realized that was what the authorities would probably expect. On a crazy whim, he whipped around and started heading for the Venetian Causeway, far to the east.
It was slow going. It was night, and the power was out through the riot areas. There were cars blocking the roads, and bodies - merely unconscious, he hoped - laying everywhere. It was pitch black, overcast, with no moon or stars, and when there was any light at all, it was the eerie sideways glow of small fires here and there. He needed to go painstakingly slow to make sure he didn't run anyone over, and he had to stop several times to move people out of the way.
Presently he made it to a part of the city that still had power, but the going was still slow for the same reason: Bodies and cars everywhere, some fires, at least small planes had crashed. Some of the cars had hit each other head on when their drivers had gone dark. There were a lot of dead people here. He was not going to tell her about this. By the time he got to a point where he could see people walking around, he was on the edge of Lummus park, and his tank was on "E." He pulled into a gas station, topped it off, and left a pile of stolen money on the counter. Then, seeing a Wendy's across the street, and feeling in a 'what the hell' kind of mood, he went in and poured himself a Frostie. He left someone else's money for that, as well. Back at the car, he spooned it onto Sloey's disproportionately tiny doll mouth. She ate it automatically.
In the Omni area, traffic was light - it was late at night, after all - but there were lots of people staggering around. Nobody appeared to have lost consciousness here, but whatever had happened had definitely taken a bite out of them. He'd expected to bluff his way through by being in a cop car, but as it happened, he didn't need to. Everyone just lurched around like zombies, nobody contested him. He drove out to the Venetian islands, which are full of waterfront neighborhoods with docks and nice boats.
He stole one, and headed out past South Beach into the Atlantic. He'd gotten away. Beyond that, he had no real plan.
The aliens found him a few days after that. Sloey had already woken up by the, and quickly went back to more-or-less normal. He watched the news from Miami, which was fairly grim. The government was trying to pass the incident off as a mere riot, and judging from Dan Rather and the national news, most folks outside of Florida seemed to buy it. Within the city, though, everyone knew something terrible and different had happened, but no one knew quite what it was. The CIA blamed the destruction in Little Havana on pilot error, when three 'Copters on an IFR training flight had slammed into the ground. This in no way matched the physical evidence, but they're the CIA. They have experience making problems of that sort go away. The death toll was pretty high, everyone was panicked, and the conspiracy theorists were having a field day with it. On every channel, he saw his own face several times a day, listed as 'most wanted.' His entirely fictitious crime was listed as 'Inciting A Riot.'
The alien ship looked something like a soap dish, though much, much larger. He was trying to make it to Bermuda when they showed up. They froze several square miles of the ocean surrounding his boat, and landed on it. They were all like Sloey, but much larger. They were wearing ludicrously oversized sunglasses. After some initial confusion, they gave her a pair of glasses and she put them on.
*Oh, this is much nicer!* she said, *Suddenly I can see stuff!*
Several of them touched her neck. Sparks literally flew, and then suddenly new voices were in his head.
*Thank you for saving her* the one in charge said.
"You're welcome," Arturo said, then broke down crying for no reason he could really understand. Sloey patted his head while the racking sobs came, and that just made it worse, for she'd never given him any kind of affection like that before, not even a handshake. Presently, spent, he just stared at them for a bit.
"You did some kind of Vulcan mind meld thing? Learned English from her memories?"
*Yes. No time to do it the polite way.*
"So who are you people?"
*We have no words for that.* A flash of images and feelings besotted his mind. It was too much, then it toned down, and all he felt was a kind of gratitude and relief.
"you're welcome," he said again. "So here's my guess: She's some kind of lost alien princess that crashed here, and you're the rescue team?"
*We do not know what a 'princess' is, and we do not know the exact circumstances ourselves, but much of it is much as you suspect.*
"Explain? By the way, check this out: If Sloey is any indicator, you guys are gonna' love this." He handed out Hershey's kisses from the bag he'd found in the galley.
*There was a war. A very bad war. Our side was losing. In desperation, we sent out….we do not have a word….* More incomprehensible images filled Arturo's mind.
"Call 'em 'Healers'" he offered.
*Healers, then. Yes. Our species is somewhat specialized. You have insects on your world that live in hives?*
"Yes. Ants, Bees, et cetera."
*Do they share a mind?*
"I don't know. No idea. Sometimes it seems like they do.*
*Well, unlike your Et Cetera, we do not share a mind. We are specialized for certain functions, some of us are breeders, some of us are soldiers, some of us are drones, some of us are healers. They function as the immune system for our civilization. Without them, our people will die out.* There was a sense of genuine dread underlying his words. Arturo weighed that.
"She's the last one?"
*Yes. Several hundred were sent out, she alone has survived.*
"And it took you seven - almost eight - years to get around to rescuing her?"
*Interstellar travel is very difficult, and is controlled by the three-legged dogs. We had to make arrangements with them before we were allowed to do so, and they are a very sanctimonious species. Hard to deal with."
Arturo had no idea what to make of that, so he let it slide.
*This stuff is delicious! What's it called?*
*We would be willing to trade for chocolate. Would your people be open for such an arrangement?*
"Probably not a good idea just now. Our people just gutted a major city to get at her. I doubt you could trust us."
In the end, she had to go with them. There was simply no choice. She cried - in her way - but the stakes were too high. She wanted to stay, but Arturo wouldn't let her. He tried to explain it to her in a way she could understand, but then he realized he was just unconsciously approximating Bogart's speech from the end of 'Casablanca', so he simply chopped out the lovey-dovey stuff on the fly, and plagiarized the whole thing. She didn't understand it, much, but he figured her elders would, and they'd explain it to her when she was older. She was, in fact, very young. Probably only a year old when her ship crashed. Nobody had any idea how it crashed. Even among aliens, screw-ups happened it seemed.
*He go with us?*
*No, Esteemed Little One, he would not be able to live on our world."
*The wavelengths of light from our sun would blind him, and give him cancers and kill him.*
"That's fine, Sloey, really it is. Really it is. This is the moment we've prayed for," Arturo said. "You're not the ugly duckling anymore, you're the beautiful swan. These people need you and love you, and will help you become everything you need to be. All I can offer you is poverty and gunfights. Probably a lot of gunfights from here on out."
*Not want to go.*
"Yeah, but I want you to."
And so they left.
The aliens felt indebted to him, and offered him anything in their power, though being a nearly-extinct species, 'their power' didn't entail much. He asked if he could hitch a ride to Australia, where he was fairly certain no one would ever think to look for him. Once he explained what an 'Australia' was, they were happy to oblige. They dropped him - and the boat, and the frozen several miles of ocean - off the coast of Perth, and then they left. He could hear her crying in his head for several days as he waited for the ice to melt, then she was apparently out of range, and he never heard from her again.
He took the boat ashore under cover of darkness, giggling to himself, "This is the second time I've done this," he said to no one in particular. "Maybe this time I'll get it right." He burned the boat, found a road, thumbed a lift to the next town, and just kept going. Eventually he found a way to purchase some fake ID, and that was the last anyone ever officially saw of the poor, sad-eyed little gay man who saved the world, though it wasn't his own.
Meanwhile, millions of miles away in space, the alien ship streaked homeward.
*We are most fortunate,* The One In Charge thought, *If that man had not saved our Healer, we would be extinct in a generation.*
*True* said The Scientist. He stole a look at Sloey, and shuddered, *It's just…*
*Just what?* The One In Charge asked.
*She sure is ugly, though."
Written 3/14/2012
Copyright 2012, Republibot 3.0
Universe1


text:
Phorest TV
How To Get Salon Influencers To Promote Your Business – Salon Marketing Q&A #11
By Chris Brennan
On this episode of The Salon Marketing Q&A, we look at attracting salon influencers to help promote your business.
The Salon Marketing Q&A: How To Get Salon Influencers To Promote Your Business Transcript
Welcome to the latest episode of the Salon Marketing Q&A. My name is Chris Brennan, and as always, every single episode, you ask the question and we answer it live on Facebook. If you've never tuned in before, what we're gonna do is we're gonna actually answer one of your questions in depth for the duration of this video. I know that it can be tricky watching this all live because I know you guys are quite busy on an ongoing basis, so you can check this out afterward on Facebook, or you can actually go to our YouTube page, and you can find the full playlist of every single episode of the Salon Marketing Q&A.
So, how about we get in to today's question. Shall we? This question comes from Amber in New Jersey, and she asks, "I keep reading about bloggers and online celebrities, that they can be great to promote businesses, but how do you do it? How would you get them to talk about my salon?" That's a really good question. Funny enough, we've been circling it in and abouts with things like our Instagram master class where we talked about takeovers and trying to get people to talk about your business online. It kind of goes with a little bit of online reputation as well.
One of the big things that is so important anymore is to get a great reputation online so when people start researching your business and trying to find out if you're the place to book an appointment with, they're gonna find amazing results, amazing statements and reviews about you guys. This is kind of like a beefed up version of that where it's not just your clients reviewing you, what you're trying to do is you're trying to get an influencer, like somebody who's got a huge audience online, an audience of devoted fans that are gonna listen to what this person has to say. What you're trying to do is get that person to talk kindly and complimentary about your business to their fans so they in turn are gonna be touting you, and their fans would hopefully book an appointment with you or come to check you out and see if what they said is true about you. That's kind of the plan that usually goes through when you're trying to attract an influencer or some kind of celebrity online or a blogger to actually do something for you.
The question is how you go about this. I would say step one would be to first off define your goal. What actually are you aiming to get out of this relationship, out of this transaction, out of this effort to locate and get on board an online celebrity or an influencer. What are you trying to get out of it. That could be a few things. Would you like them to just simply review you on their blog or on their video? Would you like them to come into your salon and do a profile piece? Maybe, like we said in previous episodes, you'd like them to take over your Instagram account during an event or a high moment in your salon or your business. First off, define what you want them to do, because you don't want to just contact them and ask them what they wanna do with with your business. It's important to have a great, clear, concrete understanding of what you're trying to get out of this. First off, define your goal.
Secondly, we wanna make a list of influencers. Now we know what we want to get, let's find out who we think would be the most opportune person to actually help us achieve that. So, what we're gonna do is we're gonna start looking up which influencers we can actually start working with, which kind of online celebrities, which kind of bloggers with a big fan base could we actually go for. My recommendation for priority would be to look at the influencers within your city. Basically, if you were only a product driven company, you can send them a product. Say authors, for instance, would send their book to a book reviewer and things like that. But what you usually are trying to sell is the experience of going into your salon.
That is really your priority, and I would recommend that you aim for people within your city that have a huge fan base or have a large audience. They can really take into account that they went into your salon and this is the experience they had. Otherwise, it's kinda be tough to get a celebrity from another part of the world to say how great you are because, unless they'd actually step foot in and experience what it's like in your business, it's gonna be a tough sell to their audience. So, make a list of influencers and fans and bloggers on social media and on their own blogs and stuff and find out who is the ones that have a big audience that share your audience. So hair, beauty, spa enthusiasts, people that would potentially become your clients, we wanna locate them online.
There's ways you can do that. Funny enough, one of the ways you can do that is actually talk to your clients. Find out if there's any celebrities or any local influencers or bloggers that they enjoy following. You could even put out a survey to find these people. You can use your software or put out an email and just ask them for people that they might know of that you'd like to talk to. That's a really nice way of doing it. Otherwise, you can check out online. You can even Google the question like beauty bloggers London, for example. Things like that. What you wanna do is you wanna narrow it down, and you wanna check them out in advance.
One great way to see how successful they are, it's a vanity metric, but check out how many followers they have. That's a really important one because if they're selling themselves as an influencer, then they should have a list of followers or fans that you can see that they actually communicate with. And don't just check out the number. What you wanna see is on their social page, what's the engagement like, what's the interaction like. If they're on Instagram, you don't wanna see an account full of followers but the posts individually, they don't have any interaction with it. So, we wanna make sure that the audience that they're talking to are engaged, because when they're gonna talk about you, then we're gonna get that same feeling of engagement, and that's what they're actually gonna be selling. So, make that list of influencers.
Next up, we want you to decide on the value of this connection, the value of this promotion. What is it worth to you. I'll be clear. It's probably not gonna be free to get these people to tout about you and to review you. I'm not saying that it needs to be necessarily money either, but if someone's gonna take their time and leverage their audience for your benefit, they probably should get something in return. That might not be money, by the way. That could actually be just a free treatment or a free trip to your salon and that's the payment. You provide a beautiful package for them and in return they're gonna review you online.
What you wanna do next is once you've identified them, find out what the value of this campaign is gonna be to you, because that's what you're gonna be offering them once you contact them. Let's say that you finally have decided what your goal is, you find out a list of people that you potentially wanna work with as influencers online, you set how much you're gonna actually give them, what the value of this relationship is gonna be, and next we're gonna reach out and offer.
I would recommend in this offer, you find out what's the best form of communication. It's gonna be basically email or it's gonna be Facebook DM or Twitter DM or an Instagram direct message. Find out what platforms they're very popular and active on and try to use the private direct message to introduce yourself. Introduce yourself, and I'd say we don't really know how busy these people are, so don't be too long winded. Kind of get to the point that you love what they do, you believe you have a shared audience, and you'd like to work together in a partnership or work together to see if you can both benefit. I would say you wanna sound confident. Don't be too needy. Understand that you're a professional too, and you don't wanna give all the power and persuasion to them just because you're trying to work with them.
If you ask for a favor, that's why it's probably not best to do this for free or try to ask for free, because then you're asking for a favor, and it puts a lot of the control in their hands because at any point they could turn around and go I don't really wanna do this. But if there's a transaction involved and they know they're benefiting, then they're gonna be more susceptible to working together with you in a positive manner.
You wanna kind of organize the pitch as an opportunity for then. Like hey, we have a shared audience, and I've got this new treatment that I'd love for your audience to check out, and I thought if I could invite you in and you could try it out, and if you liked it maybe you could review it on your website. Something like that. I understand there's different audiences and and forests, so you can hopefully carve out your own example from that template.
But that'd be it. That's kind of it. At the end then, if they say yes, then the last step is to liaise with them and define exactly what you'd like them to do with your business or in your business. If it is an Instagram takeover, say you have an event that's coming up in your salon and you wanted to leverage their audience to get more invitations in, so you wanted more people to come in and you invited them to basically take over your Instagram account and run a story for the day and put up posts and have a lot of fun with it, I would recommend that you first define what it is that specifically you'd like them to do. The more information you guys share together, the better it's gonna be for you.
That would be it. That's the tips. That's how I'd recommend for you to approach online influencers and celebrities and bloggers. And I'd say that these guidelines here should probably work no matter who you contact. If you start finding that they're a bit tough to deal with, then potentially it's not for you because you gotta put a value into what you're gonna get out of this. If you're gonna be working really hard to deal with a difficult person, then potentially this is not the person to work with. That would be the final piece of advice.
I hope you enjoyed this episode. I hope it was useful for you. If you have any questions that you'd like us to cover on a future episode of the Salon Marketing Q&A, please let me know in the comment box or just drop us an email at letsgrow@phorest.com, or you can hit us up in our private message in Facebook or Instagram or Twitter, because we're always available to chat.
Okay guys. Thank you so much. My name's Chris Brennan, and as always, I'll see you next time. Let's grow.
Chris Brennan
Chris Brennan is a salon marketing specialist, published author, award-winning filmmaker, host of the Salon Owners Summit 2016 and expert speaker, travelling the world to help salon owners and managers put the plans into place to hit their salon targets. For the past 5 years, Chris has also co-created a variety of diverse campaigns (from 30Days2Grow to the award-winning Salon Retail Week) that have helped salons all around the world grow their average bill and generate more referrals than ever before.
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