The excercise Martha Beck gave us was to find the place in our home that we hated, and then explore that (that is the nutshell version). To my amazement my passage turned out to hold a key for me in my personal journey. I can't help wondering who else hates the in between bits, the ones that don't seem to make sense, where you dint quite fit because who you were no longer works and you haven't built who you need to be ?
I barely hear the whisper as I move from room to room. I never really notice the room I am passing through. Well, it's more a passage than room, a place for what I can't into my tiny space. Part spare room and part study. It's just there. Necessary! If I could, I would avoid building passages into my homes. They waste space.
Why I ask myself? This is just a place I have to get past – a place to go through.
Was I ? Of course yes! Moving from place to place is something to endure, a means to an end. The image of Alice tumbling down the rabbit hole pops into my head along with the sense of leaving and regret coupled with a forced journey and the hope of calm and stillness when I finally get there.
Silence! But not quite. Suddenly I am listening to something that isn't there! Anger comes at me in a strident cacophony, released at last. I am carried into its song – is that a whisper of something lingering ? Something so sad and lost and abandoned it is almost too much? The symphony has found its stride now, the notes colliding, grasping at my attention.
And there in that symphony of emotion, I hear the echo of a possibility. I see myself always rushing. Not from physical space to physical space but from goal to goal just like I move in a rush from lounge to haven, never really able to be at peace in either and always worried that I won't be able to find my way back. What if the path is blocked ? Fear is a vibrant, thrumming thread linking the spaces of my life.
"Verna, see me! Love! Me!
I hate transition! I hate the travel from place to place! It is a no-space! It has no value! No meaning! It is a necessity I reject! I don't know who I am inbetween.
Only my voice doesn't seem to hold as much conviction as it once did!
"YES, comes my unexpected reply and the symphony crashes around me triumphant. My worlds so long fragmented come together in one glorious moment and everything is one.
"YES!", the space echoes back. I hear the rushing of my blood as I fall into the passages of life. I feel the joy of flow, the excitement of movement and I am finally free, released! I am free flowing consciousness, shifting from space to space with abandon and joy.
The add in that arrived in the car on the way home…it is all inbetween…. every moment from birth to death is a hallway, a passage, I was just looking at it from too close up.
Where are the Spiritual Women ?


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If you can't pay for 1, inquire for this at your baby shower. Allow everybody know that's what you want most, even if people have to pitch in to buy you 1.
Now that you have researched how other individuals attained their achievement and developed a "I CAN" mentality; created an "I WILL" mindset; and have set definite short-term and lengthy-term goals, the only thing still left to do is to DO IT.
Cabs are Faster: Remarkably, even although your Car and the taxi both operate on four wheels, it is the latter that always wins the pace check. When you travel in taxi you will be amused why you reach your destination in a lesser time in comparison to your Muscle Car Facts.
The richest individuals in American did not print the cash in their basement. They toiled, researched, and produced it occur by on their own. If they can do it, so can you. Have you ever asked yourself, "I question if I am able to do this?" If you are like most individuals, the solution is sure. The initial stage to obtaining prosperity in any form is to create an I CAN mentality. When you do this you will soon understand that you also can develop an I WILL dedication. "Is there an age limit on who can do this?" Completely not.
Encourage regular physician adhere to ups. As I stated before, the most successful quitters are the types who include physicians. So the person should be encouraged to visit his physician at minimum once a 7 days for the initial thirty day period of quitting, then as soon as each 2 weeks, and so on.


Harvest Prime Corporation's mission is to educate consumers to eat healthily, while raising funds for charities. This is reflected in its brand, Joyful Heart, which has a green heart-shaped logo – the colour of its avocado green tea ice cream. Up to 50% of its gross revenue goes to health-related charity work.


Remember last year, I was taking part in the 52 Card a year challenge to get me using my stash and to get better at card making? Well I failed at that after a couple of months, lol! I got behind on the prompts due to life, etc and eventually gave up. I still want to make cards where I can for friends & family but I'm taking a more relaxed approach, just making them when I can and if I do need a card in a hurry I have some Phoenix Cards in a box on standby. I'm not going to feel guilty for sending a ready made card either, as soon as people know you craft it's almost like they expect to get a handmade card rather than a shop brought card.
I used papers and a die cut sentiment from Pebbles.
This next card is for my friends daughters birthday next week.
I used papers and a project life card from Dear Lizzy's Daydreamer collection. The little girl who appears in this collection is very cute but I couldn't see me using her on a layout but she's perfect for an 8yr old little girl. I don't do project life but i find the cards great for layering on layouts or as toppers on cards.
The birthday card is fresh and sweet. I love the Splendid card too, a card for a not-so--standard reason. I hope the job search will be over soon.
Aw im sure your friend understood. Both beautiful cards love.


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Variety Plus Icon Read Next: Apple Powers to Record $124 Billion Year-End 2021 Quarter, Services Revenue Soars 24%
Nov 3, 2015 8:16am PT
Twitter Replaces Favorites With Likes, Turns Stars Into Hearts
By Janko Roettgers
Janko Roettgers
Senior Silicon Valley Correspondent
https://twitter.com/jank0
Littlstar Adds Content From Whistle, New Form, Sliver.tv to VR and PlayStation Subscription Service 2 years ago
Google Buys Typhoon Studios for Its Stadia Cloud Gaming Service 2 years ago
Facebook Acquires Cloud Gaming Startup PlayGiga 2 years ago
Twitter just got a lot more emotional: The social network replaced users' ability to mark tweets as "favorites" with the option to "like" tweets Tuesday. Simultaneously, it replaced the star icon for favorites with a heart for likes.
The company made the case for the change on its blog:
"We want to make Twitter easier and more rewarding to use, and we know that at times the star could be confusing, especially to newcomers. You might like a lot of things, but not everything can be your favorite. The heart, in contrast, is a universal symbol that resonates across languages, cultures, and time zones."
The post added that hearts performed very well in user tests. However, not everyone is in love with these changes. The company said that it would introduce hearts in Vine as well.
Many existing users voiced their disapproval — where else — on Twitter, with some arguing that they had used "favorites" as an option to indicate all kinds of things, like the fact that they saw a tweet, or even as a bookmark-like reminder to revisit a link.
The changes even seem to be controversial within Twitter:
I work at @twitter but even I can't believe how we replaced a completely value-neutral term like "favorite" with something so loaded.
— Peter Seibel (@peterseibel) November 3, 2015
Twitter's change from stars to hearts comes at a time when other social networks are starting to rethink user feedback. Facebook recently made waves by announcing that it would give users the ability to express a wider range of emotions instead of the simple "like" it had been using for years. One reason: Facebook wanted to make it easier to let users express sympathy in times of personal tragedy without having to resort to the "like."

redpajama_set_name: RedPajamaCommonCrawl


You are here: South Africa / Help Desk / Voucher Terms & Conditions: How do I redeem a voucher?
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Vouchers are issued with specific terms and conditions as stipulated that regulate how and when they can be used. For example, a voucher may only be redeemed for bookings where the check-in date is within a specific period, bookings above or below a booking value as stipulated by SA-Venues.com, for check-in on specified days of the week, within a certain geographic location and/or within a specific period.
The use of a voucher may also be limited by the total discount value available to all users for the promotion of a specific voucher. For example, R10,000 worth of discounts at a discount of R200 per booking.
All vouchers are valid for a maximum period of 30 days unless otherwise stipulated.
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Federal Prosecutors Say Kodak Black Needs to Stay in Jail: Report
Trent Fitzgerald
Scott Dudelson, Getty Images
Although Kodak Black is using his $600,000 home as a bond collateral to post his $500,000 bail, federal prosecutors are asking a judge to keep him in jail.
TMZ reported on Friday (May 17) that prosecutors recently filed documents requesting that Kodak's bail be revoked because they deemed him a danger to society. They cite the Florida rapper's past criminal history, which consists of drug and weapons charges.
Prosecutors believe since Kodak has never complied with the conditions of his probation in the past, there's a likelihood he will commit more crimes once he's released on bail. Prosecutors also added that Kodak's crimes have become substantially violent as they point to a 2012 case involving carjacking and robbery, as well as a 2016 incident involving weapons possession and evading police. They also link him to a shooting back in March.
However, Kodak's lawyer, Bradford Cohen, scoffs at the prosecutor's request to rescind the rapper's bail. He told TMZ Kodak's arrest was for a non-violent crime and he poses no danger to the community.
"If they were in such fear for the community as its being alleged, why didn't they pick him up soon after he filled out the paperwork in January? That's what this charge is about, paperwork, a non-violent crime," Cohen told the celebrity media website.
As we previously reported, Kodak, born name Bill Kapri, is in custody on state and federal firearms charges in Miami. The 21-year-old rapper was indicted on two counts of making a false statement on a governmental form in an attempt to purchase a firearm.
If convicted, Kodak could face a maximum of 10 years in prison.
See Rappers Who Were Arrested in 2019
Source: Federal Prosecutors Say Kodak Black Needs to Stay in Jail: Report
Filed Under: Kodak Black


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You can't always get what you want. Unless, perhaps, you are a member of the Green Valley High School choir and you want a chance to sing on stage with the Rolling Stones.
The Nevada school's choir will join the Stones at the MGM Grand Garden Arena in Las Vegas on Saturday night for the encore performance of their hit song You Can't Always Get What You Want.
Choir director Kim Ritzer said she thought it was a joke when she first got a message on Facebook from someone she did not know inviting them to sing backup for the famous rockers.
She later learned a friend who teaches music at the University of Southern California had recommended the choir, based in Henderson.
"When I announced it to the kids, I think their parents were more excited than they were because some of them didn't even know who the Rolling Stones were," Ms Ritzer told KLAS-TV.
They sealed the deal with an audition via Skype for a representative of the band in London. The 24 singers have only had two weeks to learn the song they will perform with Mick Jagger and company on Saturday night.
"I called my dad. He was screaming at me over the phone and said, 'Are you kidding me?'" said Kyle Sorenson, a first year student in the Green Valley High choir.
One Direction have showed off their romantic side when they covered Celine Dion's hit My Heart Will Go On, but admitted they couldn't remember all the words.
Beyonce has penned a letter to her fans apologising for cancelling a gig.
Nicki Minaj says she can't be bothered to engage in the "popularity contest" that is the music industry.
Gabrielle Aplin has revealed that she only got the request to audition for the John Lewis ad which launched her music career at the very last minute.
Rapper Drake leads the nominations at the BET Awards this year.
X Factor judge Louis Walsh has announced plans to form a new boy band to rival One Direction.
Jimi Hendrix and Miles Davis once tried to recruit Paul McCartney to record with them, it has emerged.
One Direction have sent fans into a frenzy after revealing they are set to make a huge announcement.


1547? Born in Exeter, the son of a goldsmith.
1559 Hilliard is in Geneva having been sent by his staunchly Protestant father during the latter part of Mary's reign.
1560 At the age of thirteen he completes his first miniatures.
1562 Apprenticed to Robert Brandon, a London goldsmith.
1569 Becomes a freeman of the Goldsmiths Company.
1572 Paints his first miniature of Elizabeth I – helped by the patronage of Robert Dudley, Earl of Leicester.
1576 Marries Alice Brandon, the daughter of his former master, and travels to France in the hope of better remuneration. Becomes Valet de Chambre to the Duc d'Alençon.
1584 Commissioned to re-design Elizabeth's Great Seal.
1585 Elizabeth issues a patent granting Hilliard a monopoly of the production of limned (miniature) portraits of her.
1603 James I maintains Hilliard's position as Royal Limner.
1617 James grants Hilliard a monopoly of engraved royal images.


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The New ESG Paradigm
Whether viewed as regulatory compulsion, stakeholder activism or corporate mission, Environmental, Social and Governance (ESG) compliance is the new frontier of the maritime and commodities sectors.
As part of its integrated approach to risk assessment, Infospectrum has long recognised the potential impact that corporate strategies eschewing ESG compliance can have on operational, financial or reputational parameters. However, today, maritime and commodities businesses worldwide are facing the added challenge of not only reviewing how to incorporate rapidly-evolving ESG regulations and norms into business processes and strategies, but also to execute these cost-effectively under tight timeframes.
A report published by Bloomberg Intelligence (23 February 2021, see Figure 1 below) estimates that global ESG assets are expected to exceed USD 53 trillion by 2025, representing more than a third of the USD 140.5 trillion in projected total assets under management at that time, and a marked increase on the USD 22.8 trillion at the end of 2016. We attribute this growth to a combination of trends - from investor expectations for potentially outsized ESG-compliant returns (although academic evidence for this remains inconclusive), to the need to cater to a growing class of ethical/impact investors on the one hand, while meeting the funding requirement for corporate ESG compliance strategies on the other. For instance, research by PWC¹ suggests various sources as having estimated an investment requirement of circa USD 1 trillion alone to bring the shipping sector into compliance with the IMO's 2050 strategy to bring emission levels down by 50% on a 2008 emission baseline. This includes transition financing for research and development, testing of new technologies, modification of existing vessels, design and construction of newbuildings, and development of land infrastructure that will support the onboard/offshore efforts. While estimates of the amount of investment needed to be channelled into the maritime and commodities sectors vary significantly, it is certain that incorporating ESG standards will not only require significant financial capital but also bring major strategic and operational changes.
Figure 1: ESG Global Projected Assets Under Management by Country
Source: Bloomberg Intelligence²
Whatever the motivation, and notwithstanding the occasional political rollbacks or pockets of public resistance, there is little doubt that markets are transitioning to a more ESG-compliant equilibrium. Yet, it is important to acknowledge that this is indeed a transition period wherein good intentions and policies may exceed what is achievable given the technological developments and operational practicalities required for the safe adoption of market-funded cost-effective environmental solutions. Furthermore, although progress is being made, the conceptual evolution for a reasonably high level of globally acceptable, regularly monitored and strictly enforceable social and governance standards is still some time away, not least due to regional variations in cultural differences.
Infospectrum's rating methodology is designed to incorporate an assessment of a subject company's track record in principled and sustainable stakeholder engagement, while also accounting for the impact of changing corporate strategies and regulations upon various factors (not least sector landscapes, operational exposures, expenditure and investments, competitive positioning, and financial performance), adhering throughout to a holistic approach to risk appraisal. Accordingly, Infospectrum's counterparty reports will, where relevant and ascertainable, outline the presence of a subject's ESG strategies, in particular highlighting meaningful and innovative approaches. In addition, to create awareness of the opportunities and challenges, concepts and trends, and accepted best practices in this rapidly evolving landscape, we have launched Infospectrum's "ESG Desk" which will publish insights and whitepapers on key developments in the ESG sphere. The objective is to give practical and actionable insights using our expertise and stakeholder engagement, with the firm expectation that ESG compliance will continue to gather momentum in delivering a viable and effective global standard.
Click the link below, and register to receive our initial paper, Emissions Reduction and Mitigation in Shipping today:
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2. https://www.bloomberg.com/professional/blog/esg-assets-may-hit-53-trillion-by-2025-a-third-of-global-aum/
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Home » Literature » Macrostomida (Platyhelminthes: Rhabditophora) from Argentina, with descriptions of two new species of Macrostomum and of stylet ultrastructure
Macrostomida (Platyhelminthes: Rhabditophora) from Argentina, with descriptions of two new species of Macrostomum and of stylet ultrastructure
Authors: Brusa
Journal: Zoological Science
Macrostomum velastylum n. sp.
Macrostomum puntapiedrensis n. sp.
Macrostomum vejdovskyi
Microstomum lineare
In this work, two new species of the genus Macrostomum (M. velastylum n. sp. and M. puntapiedrensis n. sp.) are described from the littoral benthos of the Río de la Plata estuary, Argentina. This is the first description of members of the Macrostomidae from Argentina, and of a species documented from both limnic and brackish-water environments. Macrostomum velastylum differs from its congeners in the fine details of its stylet, which are described using a new technique for stylet isolation and observation (scanning electron microscope). This method provides new information on stylet structure relative to traditional whole-mount techniques. Macrostomum puntapiedrensis differs from others species of the M. orthostylum group in the length and morphology of the distal tip of the stylet. Further details are provided on additional macrostomids from Argentina, including potential conspecifics of M. vejdovskyi, M. viride, and M. lineare.
Brusa2006.pdf


Ive noticed this trend going on in Pattaya , now I have no idea why , but I now see many pickups with their bonnets raised up at the rear as shown in the photo, I asked a mate what he thought and he said its some thing to do with the air conditioning , but I'm not convinced .
I'm impressed that you called it a bonnet. Many are starting to call them a hood, American style.
As long as I live ,on a car it will always be a bonnet and boot. Not a hood and a trunk.
Last edited by Tingtong; 7th March 2017 at 08:28.
Same with the engine cover on the rear of buses they seem to think they'll run cooler with them open... Which I doubt would make any difference.
Rock behind wheel instead of applying or trusting park brake the other ones.
We would always do it when I was younger it was because we had high rise in take manifolds and it raised the carbys hence the bonnet would need lifting.
However I don't think that is the case with that car as it is fuel injected and has a air box at the front. Completely different set up.
I can say it has nothing to do with the air conditioner.
Gazmac, OZZYGUY, Tingtong and 1 others like this.
Could there be a rice cooker under the bonnet operating off engine temperature? Bonnet up enough to let steam out?
wabbits, Zablive, OZZYGUY and 1 others like this.
Nah, you all got it wrong.
It's a windscreen de-icing mod. Hot air from the engine bay melts snow or ice.
You can cook a pot roast by this method on a long drive.


text:
Posted on May 13, 2022 February 17, 2022 by Victoria C. Clarke
PART III – THE SEASONS OF MY LIFE
Wasn't it pleasant, O brother mine
In those old days of the lost sunshine
Of youth…
When we were visiting, me and you,
Out to Old Aunt Mary's?
It all comes back so clear today
Out in the barn lot and down the lane
We patter along in the dust again
As light as the tips of the drops of rain
Out to old Aunt Mary's…
James Whitcomb Riley – "Out to Old Aunt Mary's"
Riley is too often viewed as a homespun, regional poet. Actually, he was one of the most popular and successful writers of his era. Nobody has ever dealt with nostalgia better than he, and some of his poetry is very sophisticated.
"Those old days of the lost sunshine" embodies every summer day of my childhood – our games and clubs, 4-H led by Miss Tipton, eating food that you could only have during the summer, and making hollyhock dolls from hollyhock blossoms and toothpicks that Paula Nicewanger also remembers making.
I had my own version of going to "Aunt Mary's." Every summer Grandpa, Uncle Nolan, Aunt June, Mother, and sometimes Wayne and I went to have Sunday dinner at Great-aunt Laura's home, in Michigantown. The menu never varied: ham loaf, chicken and noodles, corn, mashed potatoes, tomatoes and green beans from her garden, home-made pickles, homemade rolls, cake, and pies. After dinner we drove out to the Old Home Place where Grandpa grew up and which symbolized the days of the lost sunshine to him, my uncle, and my mother.
And now? And now the Old Home Place is gone, and my cousin, Wayne Kelly, and I are the only ones who remember those Sunday dinners at Great Aunt Laura's…
The Old Home Place
DAYS OF LOST SUNSHINE
Thoreau wrote, "I was rich in sunny hours and summer days and spent them lavishly." I didn't know it then, but I stored up riches in my memory bank."
And what is so rare as a day in June?
Then, if ever, come perfect days.
Then Heaven tries earth if it be in tune
and over it softly her warm ear lays…
Whether we look or whether we listen,
We hear life murmur or see it glisten.
James Russell Lowell – "The Vision of Sir Launfal"
The older one becomes, the more one pulls forth memories like fish on a stringer. As I edit this essay that I wrote several years ago, I think about our beloved friend, Phyllis Otto, who quoted the above lines from her capacious memory. That reminds me of an afternoon that we spend a few months before her death, taking turns reading favorite poems to each other.
Summer was a sweet liberation. On the last day of school we ran, hopped, and slipped down the old school building's diagonal sidewalks, singing "No more school, no more books, no more teachers' dirty looks!" From early in the morning until dusk we lived outside with breaks for meals or when our mothers could catch up with us to make us do chores or practice the piano.
Our parents' idea of child rearing was certainly different from today's. When we didn't obey promptly there were immediate consequences. The most expensive things that they gave us were our bicycles and graduation watches. The words "helicopter parents" didn't apply to our parents. What we did have was a lot of unsupervised, unorganized freedom to do pretty much as we pleased.
We played kick-the-can and another form of hide and seek called Tappy-on-the-Icebox with the big tree in front of Auntie Kelly's house as base. One person was "It." Another kid drew an imaginary circle on "It's" back, intoning, "I'll draw the circle." Another poked a dot in the middle of the circle. One of our favorite pastimes was bicycle slips where we played hide-and-seek by racing our bicycles up alleys and streets.
Our parents let us use hammers, saws, and hatchets to turn wooden orange crates into chairs. Rex Mattix built a hideout from bits of lumber and dismantled orange crates.
When Jana proofread this, she was reminded of how the neighborhood kids put on a circus. My father let us use our garage for a clubhouse. Wanda Frazier, Susie Scudder, and I decided one summer to have a "serious" club, unlike the previous summer's Rock and Gem Club that was disbanded when Suzie ran home, wailing when Wanda and I smashed her crystals with a hammer.
I showed up at the first meeting of the Literature Club with my father's Iliad, and Wanda intended to peruse a biography of George Washington Carver. "He invented the peanut, you know." When Suzie arrived with the latest Nancy Drew mystery we changed our name to the "Nancy Drew Mystery Club."
When I was eight years old we skulked around the neighborhood, looking over our shoulders and speaking in whispers. Rex Mattix, two years older than I, informed us that he'd heard that the dreaded Black Dot Gang of kidnappers was operating in Knightstown. At night I barricaded my bedroom window with pop bottles, figuring that if the kidnappers tried to break in the noise would awaken my parents. I spent many nights that summer in a state of terror, wishing that my parents would chain me to my bed so the gang couldn't get me. One hot night my father decided to open my window and was hit by a falling bottle. He informed me in no uncertain terms that he wanted a stop put to "this Black Dot nonsense this minute!"
THE DUCK WHO THOUGHT HE WAS A DOG
Ducky Daddles
One fine June afternoon I carried home from Mrs. Horn's house a tiny, fuzzy mallard duckling. "Please, can I keep it? You won't have to do a thing for it!"
Ducky fearlessly ruled our yard. Our dog no longer contentedly dozed on the back step, but was chased away by Ducky. We'd hear quacking and mewoing and go out to resue Tom, my cat, who'd be lying supine with Ducky standing on him, wearing a mustache of yellow fur that he'd pulled from Tom. Every evening Hagues' hound dog tried to gobble the table scraps put our for our pets. After much woofing and quacking, Ducky chased him out of our yard.
Sometimes we confined Ducky to the yard by tying his leg to a brick. Often, however, he ran loose. The men who worked at Keens' poultry house got a kick out of him. They'd shuffle their feet; and Ducky would waddle out and grab a pant leg. The man would drag him along and then put his foot under Ducky's breast and gently sail him through the air. Then Ducky would tackle another fellow. "That dern duck of yern thinks hit's a dog, don't hit?" said one of the men. One day Mr. Paul Butcher, the funeral director, was chatting with Mother. He wasn't amused when Ducky ran his muddy bill up and down the leg of his pale gray suit.
Next Ducky started chaseing cars. Ducky would waddle behind a car, fall hopelessly behind and then turn around and around, quacking furiously as if to say, "I really showed 'em this time!"
Mornings, he confronted the school bus. No one in town would have intentionally run over him, but I thought about throwing him under
the wheels myself when I had to go out in my robe to chase him home while the country kids on the bus jeered and snickered.
One September night, he didn't come home when I called, "Here Ducky, Ducky, Ducky!" The next morning Mother told me that he'd been run over. That was the sad end of Ducky Daddles.
After school Mother showed me his grave beneath the forsythia when I got home from school. "I thought he'd like it here because he loved the springtime so." Then we toured the yard: "Here's Pinky Thomas's grave. Here's your rooster, Chicory Chick, in the lily of the valley bed." On around the yard we went, viewing the graves of the turtle, the parakeet and all the creatures that had shared our lives, reminiscing about each one.
My beloved Tom lived peacefully into old age and was buried in the place of honor beneath the Japonica. I think that every yard could tell the same story: Under a persimmon tree at our old Irvington house lies Trouble, a black cocker. "You'd better name him 'Trouble' because that's what he's going to be!" advised Bill's sister. A cat lies amidst roses. Vicki shed many tears when we buried her Peruvian guinea pigs, Flower, Daffodil and Roddy, beneath the French Lilac.
Under the walnut tree near the little pond that Bill made are the goldfish that he was raising. One day he found them lying outside the pond. Suspecting something fishy – forgive the pun – he held an inquisition of five-year old Vicki and her chum Brian Schroeder. "What did you do to my fish?"
"Gee Mr. Clarke, this mean ol' witch flew down and did it."
"That's right Daddy."
In his most thunderous voice, Bill said, "I don't for one minute believe you. I want the truth, right now!" The truth was that they were pretending to be surgeons and used sticks to perform tonsillectomeies on his fish.
JOLLY CAMPERS
The worst problem that I ever saw anyone have with a tent was in the Black Hills south of Rapid City. We camped in a meadow near a woman and her children. One afternoon, we heard a loud bang. Her inflatable tent had expanded from the sun's heat until it exploded. She burst into tears and wailed, "What'm I gonna' do? I borrowed that tent from friends!" The poor things slept in their car.
We've often camped at a national forest campground south of Rocky Mountain National Park which we much prefer to the small sites packed up against each other in the park's crowded campgrounds. If you want to experience mountains without a long drive, it takes only a day and a night's drive to get there. You go straight out 70 and head North at Denver for about seventy-five miles. The view from out campsite was lovely: a rushing trout stream, pines, wildflowers, pure air, and mountains. Be warned, however, that sanitation consists of a water spigot and a Port-o-let style toilet!
It rains almost every afternoon there. In the morning, the cobalt sky is cloudless. Then before noon a tiny puffball of a cloud appears and grows and grows until it is joined by other clouds, and a brief thunderstorm ensures. The brochures warn about lightening: "If you're caught out on a mountain during a storm, do not stand under a tree. (Duh!) Do not stand under the overhang of a cliff, either. If you can't get off the mountain, lie down.
Bill and I hiked several miles up a mountain trail to a lovely little lake. Alas, we dallied too long over our sandwiches, and a thunderstorm caught us two-thirds of the way down the mountain. Eek! At age fifty, I thought that I was too old to run, but we ran lickety-split down that mountain, getting thoroughly soaked in the process.
There's nothing more miserable that being wet in high country, because you're also cold. One summer we picked up our friends and fellow house boaters, Jim and Karen, at the Denver airport and took them to the National Forest. Bill and I knew better but forgot to close up the tents when we went hiking. When we returned, rain had blown through the windows of our tents, soaking our sleeping bags and leaving puddles on the floors. We drove 30 miles to Estes Park in search of a motel.
It was dusk on a Friday evening. "No Vacancy!" Good sport Jim said, "I guess we can sleep in the car." "Right!" said Karen.
Homeward bound, Bill pulled into a place that rented tourist cabins. We went in to inquire. "I'm sorry, but I have only one vacancy that I'm not renting tonight because it's been cleaned for people who will be arriving tomorrow." We understand," Jim said lugubriously. He looked so sad that she felt sorry for him and let us have the two-bedroom log cabin and even threw in a can of coffee that warmed us as we sat around in our pajamas in front of a roaring fire that we built in the fireplace. Ah!
THE JOLLY HIKERS
Ebenezer Bryce called Bryce Canyon a Hell of a place to lose a cow. It's also a Hell of a place to take a hike. Walking down to the canyon floor is pleasant but getting back up to the rim is murderous. Bill's brother, Rick, and I were early birds, but Bill and Esther declined our invitation to view the dawn from Sunrise Point. It was still pitch dark when Rick came to our tent and said softly, "Rose, time to get up." We sat on a rock, waiting for the dawning. First we saw an eyebrow of sun, and then slowly the sun rose and painted the pinnacles of rock, called "hoodoos," with glorious colors. Oh, oh, oh!
"Let's walk just a little way down the path and see what it looks like from there." "Good idea," said Rick.
One little way led to another as we wanted to see what was just around the next bend, and we ended up doing the three-mile Queen's Garden loop, so named because one of the formations looks like Queen Victoria.
Bill and Esther were drinking coffee when we got back. "Where've you guys been?" Bill asked.
I burbled, "The sunrise was just tremendous!"
"We took a little hike on the Queen's Garden Loop," said Rick
"But I wanted to hike that loop," Esther said.
"Me too!" added Bill.
"No problemo! We can go back after lunch. Right Rose?"
"Won't you guys be too tired?"
"Not me, I'm fresh as a daisy."
"Me too!" I added. Actually, I had my doubts, but I knew which side
my husband and sister-in-law were buttered on.
That was one of the most hellacious afternoons of my life. Giggling, Bill, Vicki, and Esther skipped down the path like the characters in The Wonderful Wizards of Oz and sang about going off to see the wizard while Rick and I tromped along behind. "Wizard my aunt Fanny," I thought. "You're going to think 'wizard' when you have to go back up."
At the bottom there was a junction with the Navajo Loop. Esther said, "oh, let's do this one, too – it's only a few more miles!"
Rick and I were exhausted. One of us would say, "You guys go on. I
want to look at this flower… take a picture… tie my shoe…" Anything for a respite.
"Hey you guys! Hurry up!" Bill or Esther would yell.
We came to the final stretch called "Wall Street." You know what Wall Street looks like, don't you? Straight up! That path was one steep switchback after another.
"Puff, puff, puff, puff… pant, pant, pant, pant… wheeze, wheeze, wheeze, wheeze…" We'd lag behind until the others couldn't see us lean against the canyon wall.
"Rick, I think I'm gonna die."
"No such luck," he croaked, "C'mon – you can do it. Jus' keep put'n one foot in front of t'other like me: Lef'…right… lef'… right…"
He shambled on.
As I took my last anguished steps to the top, a plump, ubiquitous busybody leaped up from the bench where she was parked and stridently announced my arrival to one and all, "Oh dear! You look awful. Do you need help?"
I shook off her hand and snapped, "No thank you." Actually, I felt like saying "You wouldn't look so hot yourself if you'd gotten up off your fat behind and gone six miles on top of the three before breakfast!"
The others were waiting at the car. Esther exclaimed, "My, wasn't that fun!"
THE HOUSEBOAT LOG OF A WANNA-BE SYBARITE
I wrote the notes for this in between bouts of sun tanning on the top deck. Ah summer! Recreation… vacation… togetherness with friends. We joined five other couples for our annual four-day cruise on "The Good Ship Lollipop" as we dub the houseboat that we rent. The group rented its first houseboat on Lake Cumberland about thirty years ago. Most of them either taught with Bill or are married to someone who did.
Looking back, I see the escalation of American affluence and technology that has occurred since then. That first 64-foot-long boat had a combination kitchen/living room with an uncomfortable, fold-out couch. The next compartment had two bunks across from the head and open to the hallway. There was so little headroom that I refused to sleep on the top bunk. Bill and I slept on an air mattress on the front deck until one year a colony of ants marched on board via the tether rope and bit us. At the back was the "honeymoon" suite – a double bed. There were no doors on any of the sleeping areas.
The lights were gas flambeaux that we supplemented with Colman lanterns. The cheap gas stove burned you if you touched its surface. Pans of water were heated for washing dishes. Food was kept cold in ice chests, and we sweltered as there was no air conditioning. Periodically we'd open the screens and rush full speed down the lake to cool the boat off and get rid of flies.
We were severely warned to throw no toilet paper down the primitive marine head lest it clog. Occasionally we dumped buckets of lake water down it to made sure it remained clear. It sounded like a loud coffee grinder when flushed, so that everyone on the boat was awakened when it was used at night.
And we thought we were in paradise! Think of it: cruising around a beautiful lake, tying up in tranquil coves where there were no other boats, floating around on rafts while sipping frosty drinks, sunning topside, chatting, reading, fishing, reading, snoozing.
Since cell phones didn't exist, no one could call us; and if we wanted to call home, we had to use a pay phone during infrequent stops for gas and ice. No alarm clocks, to-do lists, calendars, or children to take care of!
(A firm rule was no children on board, much to the disgust of Vicki and the other kids, one of whom announced that she wouldn't be caught dead on that stinking boat.)
Flash forward to the luxury of a recent 18-foot by 84-foot, three-decker, gorgeous pleasure barge: It has a gas grill, air conditioning, electric lights, a TV for playing tapes and a sound system. The gourmet galley has a refrigerator, computerized stove, dishwasher, microwave, and trash compactor. The dining table seats ten, and there's another table on the front deck. There are private sleeping "cubbies" with doors and lavatories, and 2 ½ baths that flush quietly. There's a dryer that's ever so nice for keeping your beach towels toasty. The top deck features a covered bar and sitting area, tanning area, big hot tub and two slides off the rear.
This over-the-top luxury is just the frosting on the cake; we had as much fun on the "primitive" boat. The real substance of these days out of time lies within the abiding friendships of the crew, some of whom see each other only once a year.
We could rent a huge cottage for a week or stay at a resort for the same cost. However, as friend Jana pointed out, the houseboat brings us together in a way that no other place would.
Meanwhile, it's time for a little snooze. I apply a new coat of pineapple-scented oil and stretch out in the warm sunshine, lulled by the gentle rocking of the boat. Ah! Surely I was meant to live the life of a sybarite.
HIGH SUMMER – AUGUST
During the hot August days of sixty-five years ago, Wanda and I might well have been splashing around in Mother's laundry tub that we'd filled with water early in the morning so that the sun would warm it. If one of those warm afternoon rains came we would have put on our bathing suits and run out to try to escape the heat and humidity.
Another thing that we would have been doing this time of year was to wash Mother's dozens of Mason jars. Mother worked for weeks putting up beans, tomatoes, catsup, vegetable soup, corn relish, pickle lily, jelly and grape juice that became the feasts of winter.
We were paid a penny a jar that we promptly blew on Cream Soda or Mason's Root Beer at Conway's mom-and-pop grocery. Sometimes we bought Royal Crown Cola – "Royal Crown Cola, hits the spot! Twelve full ounces, that's a lot!"
Canning was necessary because people didn't have freezers. We had an icebox. Whenever Mother needed ice, she tied a card to a porch pillar, indicating whether she wanted 25 or 50 pounds of ice. The deliveryman would come into the unlocked house and put it in the ice compartment.
Tomato season is in! I overheard Bill say to our friends on the houseboat, "People sometimes put down Indiana, but no tomato can compare with an Indiana tomato!" People begin to inquire in July about the size of each other's tomatoes.
I know what a lot of Hoosiers are having for dinner many August evenings! Even the finest cuisine of France cannot top a Hoosier garden dinner of fresh corn on the cob, sliced tomatoes, green beans slow-simmered with a bit of bacon and an onion, fine -cut slaw with vinegar dressing, and corn bread, hot from the oven and dripping with butter – ah!
Sometimes Mother sliced corn from the cob and fried it. She also made corn fritters that were thin, lacey, crispy-brown pancakes made with fresh corn cut from the cob. This was one of the absolute favorite treats of my childhood which, alas, I never learned how to make. Get those old recipes while you can!
Bill and I love corn on the cob. Several ears of corn and bread and butter make a supper for us. We're very exacting about our corn. We rarely eat it at restaurants because it's always overcooked. Corn should be cooked as soon as possible after it's picked in plenty of rapidly boiling, salted water. My brother, Earl Gard, used to tell Toots, "Get the
water boiling, I'm going to pick some corn." Use more than one pan if necessary. Do not cover the pan or cook the corn longer than two or three minutes.
My parents had a big garden north of the greenhouse that used to be up on the hill on Morgan St. They did everything by hand. People everywhere plant backyard gardens. From the trains in Italy and England – even in urban areas – you can see vest pocket gardens in tiny yards. There is more to it than gastronomic considerations. A gardener receives the intense satisfaction of producing fresh and delicious food with his own effort just as a fine cook takes pleasure from pleasing people.
The hectic pace at which we gallop through life today makes the way people lived during the 40's and 50's look downright humdrum. Most people in our neighborhood were not "social." Also, malls and computer networking did not exist.
When twilight came our parents called us home while robins chirped sleepily as they settled down for the night, and the lightening bugs began to glow. Sounds of long-ago summer evening: the high-pitched trill of crickets and the deeper voice of a Katydid, punctuated by the thrum-thrum of the chains of the porch swing as my parents and I swayed gently, to and fro, to and fro. There is something universal about the deep pleasure of a porch swing and how it soothes away the cares of the day.
Our porches were extensions of our living rooms. My parents and neighbors would call back and forth, "Nice evening, isn't it?" or "My! Today was a real scorcher!" Sometimes Lois Frazier or Gertrude Scovel would come and have a beer with Daddy and chuckle about the antics of a neighborhood courting couple. (Neighbors were very interested in each other's business!)
Each season brought its special foods which were not served at any other time of the year such as walnut fudge in the wintertime and strawberries, homemade lemonade, and watermelon in the summer. I loved to hear the Strawberry Man's chant as he came down the street: "Strawberries! StrawBERRIES!" No Italian gelato has tasted as good to me as the Raspberry Royal ice cream from Jolly's Drugs that we ate out in the porch swing. Even minor pleasures were savored because of their scarcity.
As we absorbed the tranquility of the evening hush, life seemed to grow more quiet and to slow down. Mostly I listened as my parents talked as the mood moved them. Reminiscences and ruminations: I never tired of the old family stories and my parents' philosophizing. Those evenings in the porch swing established connections and instilled a sense of peacefulness that I have rarely found since.
I hear still their gentle voices… Thrum-thrum, thrum thrum… goes the swing. "Do you remember old Daddy Cunningham?" one of them might say… Thrum-thrum… "You know, I always wondered what became of him." "Who was Daddy Cunningham?" I'd ask.
"He just disappeared one day without a trace… Thrum-thrum…
"There goes XXXX, a-courtin'. S'pose they'll get married? Wonder if Lois and Gertrude are watching," … Thrum-thrum…
"Remember the time Delores Black and her kids were in that leaky old boat that filled up with water and started to sink, and they panicked and jumped overboard and thought they were going to drown, and they swam for shore as hard as they could, churning up mud because the water was only two feet deep?"
Thrum-thrum… "Aren't the stars bright tonight? See, there's the Big Dipper and the Milky Way. It's almost as if there was a plan for it."
"What I wonder is, if God made the stars and the universe then where did God come from?" … Thrum-thrum…
"I don't reckon we'll ever know."
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← RAMBLINGS BY ROSE MARY
RAMBLINGS BY ROSE MARY →


Smooth, silky hair is the ingredient of many a TV advert – but in real life, that layer of polish seems tricky to achieve.
More often than not, our locks end up limp and lacklustre, or they suffer from a greasy overload of product intended to bring about sleekness. And straightening often makes the situation worse, drying the hair out rather than giving it verve and sheen.
However, there are a few simple steps we could all take to create a much-needed frisson of everyday gloss.
"To have healthy, shiny hair, getting your hair cut regularly is very important in order to get rid of damage and split ends that cause the hair to look frizzy and dry," explains Dylan Brittain, international artistic director and owner of Rainbow Room George Square.
Stylist Nigit Begum agrees, advising clients to sleep on satin or silk rather than cotton.
Read on for more tips on achieving smoothness in the way that you wash, dry and brush your hair every day….
"Rinse your hair with cold water after you have been for a shower," advises Dylan.
"My top tip would be to almost detox from heated styling tools for a while," says Andrew Collinge, celebrity hairdresser and owner of CO by Andrew Collinge.
"Constant use of heated tools on your hair causes damage which dulls your hair and leaves it looking a bit frizzy.
Neil Barton, owner of Neil Barton Hairdressing, agrees.
"If you have to blow-dry your hair, make sure the nozzle end is on and point it downwards. This will seal the hair cuticle," explains Nigit.
"Finish by blasting the hair with the hairdryer on its cool setting for a quick way of achieving smooth, shiny hair," says Neil.


text:
What is a "User"?
Jack Dorsey wrote a great piece about reconsidering the term "user" in the Internet ecosystem. I applaud this. "User" has become problematic because it is no longer sufficiently descriptive to have substantive value and contributes to confusion, as well. We review hundreds of new investment opportunities per year and the description by many companies of their "users" is always an area we have to parse very carefully. Is a "user" someone who pays? What does a "user" have to do to be considered a "user" (just visit the site, register with an email and password, take any specific action, etc.)?
I have seen the entrepreneurs we back evolve their use of designations to more specifically describe each type of customer of their company's product. At Sittercity, a leading provider to parent's for resources to find and manage childcare, Martin Clifford, the CEO, has created a set of designations that include registered parent subscribers, paying parent subscribers and sitters. At Kitsy Lane, the first Internet site that allows women to open and manage their own fashion boutiques and to sell through their social networks, the designations are Boutique Owners, Registered Customers, and Paying Customers. Additionally, the entrepreneurs and CEOs of many of our other consumer Internet and Saas companies have refined their customer terminology to be more descriptive. I applaud all of these entrepreneurs because they are thinking in a customer centric way and have already made the nomenclature of their organization focused on their customer.
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