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Highlights of the French Riviera: Nice & Cannes - 5 Days
If you're short on time but won't compromise on your experience, head to the French Riviera for a 5-day getaway. Explore grand plazas in Nice, stroll the narrow shopping streets of Cannes, and set sail to the Lérins Islands on a private boat. From 5-star dining to white sand beaches, this trip has it all.
Shop local markets & prepare a 3-course meal in Nice
Stroll the old-town streets of Le Suquet in Cannes
Sail to the Lérins Islands on a private boat
Swim in the blue waters of the Mediterranean
Day 1 Arrive in Nice Nice
Day 2 Cooking Class & Perfume Tour in Nice Nice
Day 3 Transfer from Nice to Cannes Cannes
Day 4 Private Sailing Tour of the Lérins Islands Cannes
Day 5 Au revoir, France!
Day 1: Arrive in Nice
Seaside in Nice
Welcome to Nice! Arrive at Nice International Airport, then transfer to your centrally-located hotel by private car.
Nice sits at the northern end of the French Riviera, near the border with Italy. Nicknamed Nissa La Bella ("Nice the Beautiful") for its artistic spirit, grand plazas, crescent-shaped pebble beaches, Nice is inarguably the French Riviera's most popular city. The narrow cobblestone streets of its colorful old town, Vieille Ville, are lined with pastel-colored buildings and a plethora of shops selling everything from soap to wine.
Enjoy a relaxing evening stroll along the shore on the famous Promenade des Anglais, then head to a local restaurant for a welcome dinner.
Day 2: Cooking Class & Perfume Tour in Nice
Fresh olives and pickles at the market
Start your day with a visit to the famous Liberation Market in Nice to search for fresh regional products. Your local guide will lead you through a gastronomic journey as you wind your way through the city's romantic streets, shopping for the perfect ingredients. Your guide will personally introduce you to shop owners and market vendors, who will welcome you like a local.
From the market, continue to a bright apartment in the heart of Nice for your private cooking class. Discuss local cooking techniques and traditional recipes with the chef before diving into the cooking portion of the class. Prepare a traditional meal, then sit down for the best part of the day—your three-course meal! Enjoy your creation, paired with a glass of bright Rosé wine.
Following this gourmet meal, continue your exploration of Nice with a tour of the local perfume history. Start the experience with an exclusive presentation of the Chanel perfume collection with a brand expert, then visit the perfume museum to discover the emblematic fragrances for yourself. As a perk, bring home a Chanel goody bag to remember the visit long after you depart.
After, head to the colorful flower market to find the raw materials that comprise the fragrant perfumes from earlier. Along the way, pass by ancient spice shops and perfume ateliers of the Old Town. Finish the day by choosing your favorite essential oil from the French Riviera to bring home.
Day 3: Transfer from Nice to Cannes
Cours Saleya in Nice
In the morning, take a train from Nice (about 40 minutes' journey) or a private transfer to reach Cannes. Although these days it's more well-known as the host of the International Cannes Film Festival, the famous city has surprisingly humble roots as a modest fishing village.
The Cannes Film Festival boasts the most media coverage in the world and attracts directors, actors and actresses, and movie-lovers from around the world. Aside from the film festival, Cannes is a busy city with a mix of business ventures and relaxing beach resorts. Sheltered by the Massif de l'Esterel and facing the sea, Cannes enjoys a Mediterranean climate with hot, dry summers and mild winters.
Spend the day exploring Cannes, starting at the Old Port in the heart of the city. Although it lost some of its nautical importance following the construction of the new and bigger Port Canto, the old port still welcomes yachts and boats with traditional rigging. Saint Pierre Quay, which dates to 1838, is a great place to find a restaurant for lunch among the colorful buildings that line the water.
The Old Port and its quay mark the entrance to the Suquet, the oldest quarter and historic center of Cannes. Built on a hill, the Suquet invites you for a stroll along its steep medieval streets as you wander to the top viewpoints.
Explore the colorful streets of the city center or enjoy an evening stroll along the water before spending the night in your quiet hotel in town.
Day 4: Private Sailing Tour of the Lérins Islands
Sunset on the Lérins Islands
Spend the day soaking in the Mediterranean sunshine on a full-day sailboat outing. Meet your skipper Pierre at the docks, then set sail for the famous Lérins Islands, which lie a mere 15 minutes from the coast of Cannes. Your destinations this morning are the twin islands of Marguerite and Saint-Honorat, the two largest of this group of four emerald islets.
The islands are renowned for their rocky beaches, hiking trails that wind through pine and eucalyptus forest, and sunny weather. The islands are also home to a number of fascinating historical and cultural sites. On Sainte-Marguerite, for example, you'll find the 17th-century Fort Royal, whose claim to fame comes from serving as the prison of the infamous of the Man in the Iron Mask for 11 years. Today, the building houses a maritime museum. Nearby, on Saint-Honorat, you can visit the expansive Lérins-Abbey, a Cistercian monastery that dates to the 11th century.
However, the real order of business today is rest and relaxation. Spend the day sailing to different beaches, swimming in crystalline waters, and enjoying food and drink aboard the sailboat. Novice sailors and experts alike can try their hand at several sailing maneuvers and getting their sea legs under them before feasting on a picnic lunch.
Return to Cannes in the evening in time for dinner and a stroll along the water.
Day 5: Au revoir, France!
French Riviera by night
After breakfast, take a private car or train transfer to the airport to catch your flight home. A bientôt!
Map of Highlights of the French Riviera: Nice & Cannes - 5 Days
Written by Simon Hardy, updated Feb 28, 2020
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As a little girl, I was obsessed with ballet. Since those early dreams, my obsession has shifted to any film inspired by the ballet world, from the forthcoming Suspiria remake to The Turning Point (1977) and, more recently, Darren Aronofsky's Black Swan (2010). Last year, discovered the excellent albeit short-lived STARZ series Flesh and Bone by accident (one of my former acting teachers is on the show) and was instantly hooked. I was particularly mesmerized by the seemingly effortless performance given by lead actress and dancer Sarah Hay who, prior to being cast on the darkly dramatic show, was a relatively unknown dancer with the Dresden-based Semperoper ballet. Hay's turn as Claire led to her Golden Globe and Critics' Choice nominations, as well as her Satellite Award win for Best Actress in a Miniseries or a Motion Picture Made for Television. Hay recently moved from Europe to L.A. to pursue her acting career full time. Although her love for ballet will always remain—after all, it launched her career—it's now acting that most excites her. Hay and I bonded over macrobiotic bowls and cups of tea at L.A.'s appropriately hippie-esque Café Gratitude. It's clear that Hay is grateful for her artistic journey thus far. -J.B.
I had never acted prior to the show, so I was really just learning as I went along. Of course, I had some very good actors to watch. Before the show, I hadn't really thought about acting as a career. I did one Olsen twins' movie when I was nine. That had been my IMDB page…. At that age, I didn't really know what acting was going to be like. I felt exactly the same way at nine years old as I do now. Years later, I was in Black Swan, in the company, looking at Natalie Portman, wishing I could be her….
I filmed Flesh and Bone for about five months; I was working almost every day. Although it was created by showrunner Moira Walley-Beckett, there were a lot of theater writers who worked on it (e.g. Adam Rapp).
As for Claire, I think some of [her character] was inspired by a real person (though I don't know who.) Both of my parents are psychologists, so I had a little bit of help as far as behavioral patterns and people that are self-abusive and experience sexual abuse. It was a dark journey to figure out who she was—I expressed some of the darkness that the dance world has caused me to feel and I just used it. I found a sadness in myself and related to everything she was going through. Everything was instinct-driven. I wanted to keep myself as natural as possible.


Mildred A. (Eddinger) Wolfe, 94, of Pottstown, widow of Raymond E. Wolfe, passed away on Thursday at Manatawny Manor, East Coventry Twp.
Born in Gabelsville, PA, she was a daughter of the late Harry E. Eddinger and the late Laura (Moore) Eddinger.
Mildred was a hairdresser for many years.
She is survived by a daughter, Sally R. Stauffer, Phoenixville, and a son Clifford E. Peterson, Spring City. She was predeceased by two brothers and two sisters.
All services for Mildred A. (Eddinger) Wolfe will be kept private at the request of the family.


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Steve Harris: Remember Iron Maiden as a 'Bloody Good Live Band'
Karl Walter, Getty Images
Steve Harris said he'd like Iron Maiden to be remembered as a "bloody good live band" once they're gone, and enthused about the energy of playing onstage.
It's been 40 years since the band recorded the Soundhouse Tapes demo; the latest North American leg of their Legacy of the Beast tour kicks off tonight.
Discussing their theme song "Iron Maiden," which appeared on the demo, Harris told Rolling Stone that "we were just going to go out there and go for it and take no prisoners. We obviously were young and hungry and we had the adrenaline. We were just trying to get out there and play fast, heavy music with lots of melody."
He added that "there wasn't really anybody playing the stuff we were playing. We were heavily influence by people like Wishbone Ash with the very melodic guitars. But we had a fire in it."
Harris refuted the suggestion that early Iron Maiden material contained influences from the punk movement of the time. "Some people mistook us for playing punky stuff, but we actually didn't like punks at all," he explained. "The punks back then couldn't really play their instruments like the later ones."
Asked about the high average speed of their songs, Harris cited the adrenaline of live performance as a catalyst. "It's not like we said down and said, 'Oh, we're going to play fast,'" he said. "You start with the adrenaline and get onstage and it was even faster than it was when you recorded ti. Sometimes it can get a bit out of hand, but the energy at a gig can be really quite amazing at times. It was never premeditated."
Harris recently said he didn't think Iron Maiden deserved their Grammy for the 2010 song "El Dorado," and several members of the band have discussed their lack of interest in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, for which they've been eligible since 2004.
"I don't mind that we're not in things like that," Harris said in the new interview. "I don't think about things like that. It's very nice if people give you awards or accolades, but we didn't get into the business for that sort of thing. I'm certainly not going to lose sleep if we don't get any sort of award, not just that one, any award. … With what we do, whatever comes of it is great. Whatever doesn't come of it is great too."
See Iron Maiden Among Rock's Most Underrated Albums
Next: Iron Maiden Lineup Changes - A Complete Guide
Source: Steve Harris: Remember Iron Maiden as a 'Bloody Good Live Band'
Filed Under: iron maiden, Steve Harris
Categories: Music News, Rock

redpajama_set_name: RedPajamaCommonCrawl


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Social Studies & History
Kigali, Rwanda, City Profile
Go to Rwanda Social Studies - To Rwanda History
City Map of Kigali __ You will find an interactive map with zoom, directional and satellite features. - From world66.com - http://www.world66.com/lib/map/handle?loc=africa|rwanda|kigali
Google Map of Kigali, Rwanda __ Zoomable map/satellite view of Kigali, the national capital of Rwanda. - From nationsonline.org - http://www.nationsonline.org/oneworld/map/google_map_Kigali.htm
Kigali __ "...is the capital and largest city of Rwanda. It is situated in the centre of the nation, and has been the economic, cultural, and transport hub of Rwanda since it became capital at independence in 1962." You will find an encyclopedic article with links to related materials. - illustrated - From wikipedia - http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kigali
Kigali __ A single overview paragraph giving a surprising amount of information. - From infoplease.com - http://www.infoplease.com/ce6/world/A0827618.html
Kigali Airport __ Basic airport information and flight information. - from farecompare.com - http://www.farecompare.com/flights/Kigali_Airport-KGL/airport.html
Kigali Genocide Memorial Centre __ "The Kigali Memorial Centre was opened on the 10th Anniversary of the Rwandan Genocide, in April 2004. The Centre is built on a site where over 250,000 people are buried." - illustrated - From kigalimemorialcentre.org - http://www.kigalimemorialcentre.org/
Kigali Institute of Education __ "Kigali Institute of Education (KIE) is a young public institution of higher learning, which started its operations in 1999 and was legally established under KIE statute law NO. 49/2001 of (...)" Learn about the school, its programs and future goals. - illustrated - From kie.ac.rw - http://www.kie.ac.rw/spip.php?rubrique1
Kigali Institute of Science and Technology __ "The Kigali Institute of Science, Technology and Management (KIST) is the first public technological institute of higher learning in Rwanda. It came into existence as a UNDP project on November 1st, 1997 with a clear mandate to produce technical, scientific, administrative and managerial expertise of high calibre." Learn about the school, its programs and future goals. - illustrated - From kist.ac.rw - http://www.kist.ac.rw/index_2.html
Kigali Map, Map of Kigali __ " Welcome to the InfoHub Kigali map page. Here you will find a treasure of information with regard to map of Kigali as well as a wealth of information on the subject of Kigali maps." - From infohub.com - http://www.infohub.com/Maps/kigali_map_372.html
Kigali Medical Resources __ "The American Embassy ... assumes no responsibility for the professional ability or reputation of the persons or medical facilities whose names appear on the following list." A list of physicians and medical institutions. - From US Embassy - http://kigali.usembassy.gov/medical_information.html
Kigali Photos __ Several galleries of click-to-enlarge photos of Kigali and hundreds of individually posted pictures of Kigali. - illustrated - From pbase.com - http://search.pbase.com/search?q=Kigali
Kigali Photos and Pictures __ Gallery of annotated, click-to-enlarge photos of Kigali. - illustrated - From igougo.com - http://photos.igougo.com/pictures-l14066-Kigali_photos.html
Kigali Public Library __ A success story. "In 1994, Rwanda experienced a genocide in which approximately one million Rwandans were killed. Through the establishment of the Kigali Public Library, Rwanda's first public library, it is our hope that the tools used for destruction will be replaced with tools of knowledge. Successful completion of this monumental effort will mark a watershed in Rwanda's history, finally providing unfettered access to a treasure trove of knowledge that has so far been unavailable to a population of over eight million people." - illustrated - From kigalilibrary.org - http://www.kigalilibrary.org/
Kigali Travel Guide __ From arrival information to getting around, you will find it here. An extensive guide. - illustrated - From wikitravel.org - http://wikitravel.org/en/Kigali
The New Times __ Online newspaper from Kigali. - illustrated - From newtimes.co.rw - http://www.newtimes.co.rw/
population of Kigali 2010 __ Kigali population figure - From trueknowledge.com - http://www.trueknowledge.com/q/population_of_kigali_2010
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This also helps with her itchy skin. Pepto-Bismol is used to treat diarrhea and relieve the symptoms of an upset stomach. Following the maximum recommended daily adult dose, the mean biological half-life is approximately 33 hours and peak plasma bismuth levels remain below 35ppb. This makes your stool turn black. They could be signs of a serious health condition, such as an infection.
I made sure to take Maya's my precious black lab rescue food away, ALWAYS make sure she has plenty of water, and I've been giving her a quarter of a tablet of pepto. Management of overdose is the same as that for salicylate overdose: In children aged four years or less, a dominant metabolic acidosis with low arterial pH raised hydrogen ion concentration is common. Swallow the caplets whole with water. A mixed respiratory alkalosis and metabolic acidosis with normal or high arterial pH normal or reduced hydrogen ion concentration is usual in adults and children over the age of four years. ATC code A07B B The demulcent base provides a protective coating of the lower oesophagus and a partial coating in the stomach which holds the bismuth subsalicylate in suspension. If you have these symptoms, call your doctor right away. Chelating agents may be effective in the early stages following ingestion and haemodialysis may be necessary. Pepto-Bismol contains a substance called bismuth. This makes your stool turn black. What do i do? More common side effects The more common side effects of Pepto-Bismol include: If symptoms occur, use of Pepto-Bismol should be discontinued. When it forms in your digestive tract, it mixes with food as you digest it. Best go with Merrick dog food. Examples of medications that can interact with Pepto-Bismol include: The active ingredient in Pepto-Bismol is called bismuth subsalicylate. Pepto-Bismol is thought to treat diarrhea by: Do not chew them. When this substance mixes with sulfur a mineral in your body , it forms another substance called bismuth sulfide. Treatment includes gastric lavage, purgation and hydration. My granddaughter was here shortly before he got sick and we were wondering if he ate one of her toys. Don't give that food to your dog it's like you eating McDonald's every day. You should not take Pepto-Bismol if you: Correct metabolic acidosis with intravenous 8. They can also include gas, belching, and a feeling of fullness. My pug has had diarrhea for months and nothing helps.


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Ch. 24 - Third Age 3017 - Part Seven - A
An hour after leaving the Mering Stream's Rohirric garrison, Boromir pulled up. Guilin did the same and waited. "I think it about time that the men have a day's rest. The Mering is known for its fishing. Tell the men to dismount and relax. Any who want to throw in a line are welcome, as will their catch be welcome for nuncheon. We will resume our way to Amon Anwar after our meal."
"Aye, Captain. It will be done."
Boromir dismounted and walked away from the group. The sounds of their joy at the unexpected furlough echoed through the air. He could not help but smile; the smile quickly turned into a frown. 'However am I to wed and be a husband and father? I will spend the next year on the northern borders and only return to the City at infrequent intervals. I will not even know the woman.' He bit his lip. 'Many before me have not known their spouses until the day of the wedding feast. Why should I be different? Though I had hoped…' Sadness filled him. 'I have thought of naught but war since I was six and now I am to put that all aside and think of home and family…' He turned eastward. The foothills of the White Mountains lay before him. 'If I but look in any direction, I can see the site of a battle long since past. Is this the legacy I want to leave my child?' He shuddered. 'The self-same legacy that Faramir and I have been gifted with. War and battle and death.' Swallowing became difficult. 'Even now, Faramir may lie dead on some patch of green in Ithilien. Do I want this for my son? How does father endure this? How does he send us off with the knowledge that he has? He knows more than I, sees more than I, and still he sends us out. And his people. He sees their suffering. I can think no further on this. I know my duty. It is the same as fathers. If I wed and have a son, I will,' he drew a sharp breath, 'I will raise him as a warrior.' He turned back to his camp. He needed to hear the sound of soldiers.
They broke camp three hours after nuncheon. The sun had already passed well westward and was hidden by the mountains. Darkness began to engulf them as they entered the Firien. Light was the banter as they road towards the beacon garrison. Boromir's heart had lifted as soon as he had returned to their camp. 'My son could have no better life than this,' he thought. 'If only there was no war.' The silence of the forest was hypnotic. 'So peaceful, so green,' he thought. He pulled his horse up. Something had caught his attention, but he knew not what.
'Silence!' He called to Guilin, but in the moment between his thought and his cry, the first scream rent the air. Orcs! A large number were coming from all sides. Guilin pulled his horse up close to Boromir's; his drawn sword flashed in the waning sunlight. They were quickly surrounded. Men fell before they had unsheathed their swords. Boromir swore. 'Where are my scouts? By the Valar, where are my scouts?' But he had no further time to think. They were engulfed, encompassed and Boromir knew they were defeated. He looked about, trying to find some way of escape. The hoard was thick. Guilin fell, a dark splash of red quickly staining the front of his tunic. Boromir dismounted and tried to hold the man. He reached out and killed the Orc that had attacked him, but the Orc fell on top of him, its hard helm crashing down upon Boromir's unprotected head. Boromir swayed and fell forward.
'Silence.' Tears filled his eyes. He lay still, waiting for his senses to return, waiting for the sword to slash through his tunic, waiting for death to come. It did not. He heard far off grunts and wondered who it could possibly be. He tried to open his eyes, but they were covered in some sort of film; a sticky ooze ran down his face. His arms still worked. He was surprised, for his head throbbed. He did not think any part of his body still functioned. He brought his hand slowly and carefully to his face and wiped away the slime. Trying to see in the blackness that engulfed him, he blinked and tasted a bitterness. 'Orc's blood; thankfully, not my own. But why does my head pound so?' Slowly, memory returned to him. 'Guilin!' The grunts he had heard must be the Orcs. 'But where are they?' The noise was growing softer. 'They are leaving. They take me for dead and they are leaving.' He raised himself but found he could only move an inch or two. 'Ah! The Orc still lies on my body.' He pushed with all his might and his dead enemy slid off him; Boromir stood. "Orc's breath!" He swayed but fell to one knee and saved himself. He waited for the dizziness to subside, noting that the darkness was not from his wound but that night had fallen.
'Guilin. He was next to me. Where is he?' He stood. Bodies lay all about him. 'The Orcs will be back to collect more food. I wonder why they left.' He stumbled over Guilin and heard a moan. "Guilin?" The moan grew louder. "It is Boromir. Where are you hurt?" There was no answer. Boromir wished with all his might that there was more light. He remembered the slash across the captain's chest. He touched it and felt the blood; it was cool. He opened his tunic, tore his shirt and stuffed it up under Guilin's own tunic. Wildly looking about, he tried to remember where he was, what part of the forest this was. 'There is a cave nearby, if I recollect rightly. It is only a furlong away to the south.' He pulled Guilin to a standing position. "Please, Guilin. You must help me. Can you walk?" The man did not reply, only groaned softly. "I will take that as an aye. Now, we are going to walk a little way, a short distance. You can do that!" He wrapped Guilin's left arm about his shoulder and began walking towards what he hoped was south. After many long moments, he felt Guilin's body become heavier. He stopped and waited, listening. There was still breath. He began walking again, more slowly as the weight of the warrior increased.
After an interminable length of time, he felt the ground begin to rise. 'We are near the foothills,' he thought in relief. 'The cave is here somewhere.' They broke out of a part of the forest and into a patch of open land; the moon shone brightly upon them. Boromir offered a prayer of thanks to Ithil. Nothing was visible in front of him, but he saw a dark spot off to his left. He turned towards it, hoping it was the cave. Only moments passed and he reached the dark area. It was the cave. He sobbed in relief. 'Empty,' he prayed to the Valar, 'please have it be uninhabited.' He could not lay Guilin down to explore it; he would have to trust. He stooped and entered. The air was only slightly foul and dusty. It was empty! He sighed as he lowered Guilin to the ground. "Stay here, my friend. I cannot start a fire yet. The Orcs most likely are still about, but I know a stream that runs nearby. I will bring water. Be still until I return." He hoped that Guilin heard and understood but he had not the time for a reply.
Another few moments and he was back, his water skin full. He helped Guilin to a near sitting position and offered the drink. Guilin swallowed a bit, then his head sagged. Boromir laid him back on the ground and took a quick swig himself. Then, he explored the cave. It was tiny, as he remembered. A twinge of remorse tugged at his heart. Faramir and he had played hide 'n seek here when his father took them hunting as children. They had scared the breeches off Denethor when he could not find them.
He knew the cave fairly well. There was a second chamber behind the first. He could only crawl into it, the ceiling so low. Firewood and kindling, just as he remembered. He felt it in his hands and sighed. 'I can start a fire here and it will not be seen from outside.' He crawled back into the outer chamber, put his arms under Guilin's still form, and pulled him into the back chamber. He started a fire. Then, he examined Guilin. The gash was long and deep. He held the captain to him and waited. Within the hour, Guilin died in his arms. He never woke. For some reason, comfort for himself, he could not say, he held the man closer. His throat tightening, he whispered, "You were a good soldier, Guilin. I am sorry we spoke hard words to each other at Amon Dîn. You will be missed, by your men and by me. I knew I had your loyalty, even when you said things that you knew I did not want to hear, but needed to hear. You were a good friend." He choked and stopped. At last, he pulled the body closer to him and dragged it off to the side of the chamber. "When I return, I will bury you, I promise."
He leaned against the side wall, next to the body of his companion, and waited for morning. He planned to leave at first light, go further up the mountain to the beacon garrison and bring back a contingent to find the Orcs and destroy them, then to bury their fallen. Closing his eyes for a moment, he relaxed. The cold of the earth about him felt good; his head still throbbed but at least he was able to walk. His head nodded. 'I cannot sleep, not now.' He could not walk in here so he crawled through the opening into the outer chamber. He sighed and walked to the entranceway.
Morning was almost upon him. Denethor put down the globe and leaned back, wearily wiping his brow. No sign of Boromir. He walked to the window and looked out upon the Pelennor. The stars were lost now in the faint hue of Anor as she began her climb from behind the Ephel Dúath. Resting his hands upon the sill, he closed his eyes. Whenever he looked westward, he felt strong. Even if he looked into Isengard, still he was able to watch without the horrid fatigue that assailed him when he looked eastward. And yet, eastward was the Enemy. Waiting and watching for him. Ready to pounce at the slightest sign of weakness.
He was tired. He had ridden late yesterday after having inspected the Rammas by the Causeway Forts and then, against his better judgment, the Rammas where it met the Harlond. Faramir was right, as usual. The Rammas needed improvements by the Forts. It should be raised at least another two feet. But the cost and the manpower were beyond Gondor's ability at this time. Better to concentrate solely on the Forts and leave the Harlond for another year. The wall was still strong by the quays; the merchants who used the Harlond made sure of that. He remembered the vocal sessions trying to raise the tariff on goods coming in. They screamed their fury, but his logic had won out, that time. The Harlond was safe, for the time being. The North-gate. He had told Húrin that could wait for another few years, but in truth, it should be raised. Denethor shook his head. It would not be this year, nor the next. Perhaps in three years?
He covered the stone and walked slowly down the stairs. 'Why does it not show me my sons? And yet, I saw them - dead.' He shuddered; the stone would only show them to him when they were dead. So now he had to hope that he would never see that again. He leaned against the cold white marble and laid his burning forehead against it. The coolness sent a shiver through his body. It felt like the cold flesh of the dead. He clenched his teeth, fear and agony vying to undo him. He pushed himself away from the wall and continued to the Citadel's floor. Imrahil was crossing the Courtyard and waived to him. Denethor stared. He wanted desperately to look to the past again, to find Finduilas and revel in the sight of her. He knew he could not. The last time he had done that, a month ago he thought, he had found it nigh unto impossible to break away. The stone held him. Brought scene after scene to his eyes, of her dancing, of the birth of his sons, of their times in Rohan. The weddings. He held his breath again. He could not look upon her.
As he came to the Great Hall, Imrahil greeted him. "I have been wondering where you went off to. It is almost time. Lady Míriel will arrive soon. Arthad has been a great help. Her quarters have been aired and cleaned. I think she will be pleased. The windows look south. Is there a reason for that?" He put his hand gently on Denethor's shoulder.
"Not today, Imrahil," Denethor whispered, not looking at his brother. "Not today."
Imrahil took the man in his arms and held him. The stiff body would not yield. "I will not press you. She is happy, wherever she is." And he let Denethor go and walked away.
Denethor's knees buckled but he caught himself before he fell. Turning swiftly to the tunnel, he walked through and to the practice field. He spent an hour there, then refreshed himself in the baths and returned in time to break his fast with Húrin. Another day of preparation for war.
Boromir watched as the sky turned a lighter shade of black. The sun would rise soon. He must get away. He returned to the inner chamber and snuffed out what remained of his fire. He took some dried meat from his belt and quickly ate it, followed by a slug of the water. He should refill his skin before he left. He looked once more upon Guilin. Saluting, he crawled back out. The outer chamber was filled with the most hideous stench. Boromir looked up in surprise. Orcs filled the cave. He stood up, drawing his sword, and hesitated as the largest of the hoard laughed, if laugh it could be called. He stood firm as his heart sank.
When next he awoke, Boromir found that the pain in his gut far outweighed the pain in his head. He kept as still as possible, waiting for his senses to tell him where he was, who he was with, and what was happening. He knew he must still be in the cave for he could feel the cold floor under his back. He could remember nothing after he began hacking at the Orcs with his sword. He did not have long to wait.
"Fresh meat. That's what he is, fresh meat and ya'll not be touchin' him till I says. We head further up the mountain as soon as night falls. The others have all been cut and put in sacks; we'll have enough meat to last for a week or more. Then, we kill this one. If'n ya have a problem with that, then stick yer head in Isengard's fires." A harsh laugh, the same one he had heard when first he was surrounded, burst forth. Boromir decided he did not like that laugh nor its owner.
None noted that he was awake. If he could have, he would have smiled. It was a trick Faramir and he had honed over long years of practice. They had been taught, and well, how to keep their stomach muscles loose, how to breath little sips of air from the corner of their mouths, how to keep their eyes rolled up so that none could see any errant movement. They had sorely tried and many times startled their nannies.
The pain, now, was almost more than he could bear; he found it more and more difficult to 'play possum.' He wondered how deep the wound to his stomach was, and if the Orcs had used poisoned weapons. 'Not if they plan on eating me. Though I doubt their poison would harm them. And if they wait till nightfall, I'll have bled out by then and will definitely not be fresh meat.'
There was a stirring in the cave, a rustling of cloth, and suddenly all grew quiet. 'They sleep,' he marveled. He opened his eyes to tiny slits and looked around the best he could without actually moving. There were six of the beasts lying about the cave. He wondered how many might be in the back chamber and then almost gave himself away as he realized Guilin would be naught but bones. The sob caught in his throat and he almost choked. He closed his eyes, but too late.
"So ya think ya've got me fooled, do ya?" The cruel voice laughed low. "I knew ya'd been awake all this time. Thinkin' ya might be able ta escape?" A low rumble turned into dreadful coughing as the creature tried to stifle its laughter.
Boromir opened his eyes and looked full upon the face of his enemy. Never, in all the long years that he had fought Orcs, never had he spoken with one. His skin prickled at the thought, but somehow he had to keep himself alive, hoping against hope that someone would rescue him. He could not possibly escape on his own. And the creature knew it and reveled in that fact.
'How do I act? Do I speak? Do I give him homage?' The question was moot as the evil thing kicked Boromir hard and slammed the breath from him. Blackness engulfed him once again.
Vaguely, he remembered a tale his father had told him about being captured by Wildmen near this very same forest. Boromir tried to focus on the tale, anything to keep his mind off the searing pain in his gut, the feel of blood running down his side, and the fearful pain that lit his chest every time he tried to breath. 'Ribs broken, probably.'
"I see you," the hideous voice whispered, then broke into another foul laugh.
Was the filthy thing watching him constantly? Did it not sleep? Boromir's mouth felt like death warmed over. It was dry and foul. He wanted desperately to ask for water. Instinct told him that he would be mocked and ridiculed if he asked. He smiled grimly. Water would not be forthcoming anyhow, more likely a swift kick. He tried to swallow and a moan escaped him. Under his breath,he swore every curse known to him, for the show of weakness.
"I suppose ya want water?" The creature waited, and when Boromir nodded, it laughed, hissed, and kicked until, once again, Boromir lay senseless.
He felt himself being pulled up. His head hurt, but that pain was o'er ridden by the fire in his gut. His legs were wobbly and prickled. He had lost feeling in them sometime during the day and could not stand. The foul creature that tormented him grabbed him by the hair and pulled his head back. "If ya don't walk, I'll cut off yer fingers one by one. Then, I'll eat each one before yer very eyes. And then I'll cut out yer tongue and then yer ears. Ya can imagine where I'll go from there."
Boromir grabbed the beast's arm and pulled himself up. He took a step, and then another as he willed himself to walk. The Orc laughed and pushed him towards the opening of the cave; it was almost night. Boromir's head hit the side of the cave as he was shoved through to the outside. He crumpled to the ground.
"Faramir, you came," the words hardly sounded intelligible, but he could tell from the gleam in his brother's eyes that Faramir had heard and understood. Boromir shuddered in relief.
"As soon as I heard, I was on my horse. None could keep me from you."
Boromir sighed. Faramir was here with him. A tear escaped his eye and he tried to brush it away, but his arm would not obey him.
Faramir leaned closer. "Be still. You are sorely wounded."
Letting out the breath that he had unconsciously pulled in when the pain shot through his gut, Boromir tried to calm, tried to obey his brother. "I…" He found he could no longer speak.
"Say naught, brother. Rest."
Boromir turned to look at Faramir. The sweet face beamed down at him, the ebony hair lay loose about his face, the hands held him and squeezed. Tighter and tighter until Boromir raised an eyebrow in concern. He heard a laugh and his skin prickled. Faramir's gentle face grew longer, wider, grew into a hideous caricature of the beloved face. It was the Orc!
"Faramir!" he cried in distress. 'The beast has Faramir.' He cried out in fury, "I will save you, little brother." He reached for his sword and found it was not there. Blood covered his hand. He looked up to where Faramir had been just a moment before and saw him lying on the ground next to him, his face still serene, but his stomach split wide open. He screamed, "No! Faramir! No! I will save you. I will save you." But nothing came from his mouth; instead, it filled with the coppery taste of blood. His own. He was dying. 'Better to die at Faramir's side than to live without him. To live knowing I let him die for me.' He sobbed.
"Does he live?"
"I do not know. I will not give up though. Bring the torch a little closer. Boromir? Boromir!"
"He is dead. There is no movement."
"I tell you we will hope. Is the leech come yet?"
"She should be here any moment. 'Tis a good thing we keep one at this outpost. If he lives, he would not survive to Edoras."
Éomer closed his eyes, lifted his heart to Béma and thought simply, 'Do not let him die.'
Boromir cried out in agony. Éomer gasped and took the beloved hand and held it. "Boromir. It is I, Éomer. I have come to help. Hold on a little longer."
Tears spilled from the closed eyes. Boromir's hold on his hand was tenuous at best. "I want you to remember who you are. Boromir, famed Captain-General of Gondor, my friend. Do you remember the times we went riding together, when your family came to Edoras? Do you remember the times we would cut through the streets and alleyways of Minas Tirith in search of the perfect pint?"
The tears flowed. "Boromir. I know you can hear me. I need you to hang on. Think of anything but the pain." He took a deep breath. "Think of Faramir. He needs you. You know he does." The hand tightened and Boromir's face turned into a deep grimace. 'What is wrong with Faramir,' the Rohir wondered, 'that the mention of him should bring such agony of mind? Oh! Béma, I pray Faramir was not here. Was not part of this company.' Frantically he looked about, but there was no sign of any other, only the half-eaten corpse in the other chamber. 'Too short for Faramir,' Éomer shuddered.
"Ah!" A thought struck him. "Think of your betrothal, Boromir. I hear it is soon. You will be happy; I know it. You will grow fat and lazy as she feeds you good foods, takes care of all your needs, loves and cherishes you." The Rohir choked. "Boromir. You will return to Minas Tirith soon and to your father. He waits for your report."
Éomer bowed his head in grief. The leech entered the cave and stopped. "My lord," she strode purposefully towards the Marshal. "Where is your wound?"
"It is Boromir who is injured. Here," and Éomer pointed to the blood-stained tunic. "It is deep."
She moved the tunic to the side and wondered aloud where the shirt was, but immediately began to pull the skin apart to see how deep the cut was. "Deep, but I have seen worse. He still lives and that is a good thing. Are we safe here?" she asked, looking about at the dead carcasses of Orcs lying about.
Éomer motioned and his men began to clear the cave out.
"I suppose it would be too much to ask to move him to a quiet, undisturbed corner? This dust will infect the wound."
"There is a chamber further back. Do you think it wise to move him?
"We must. Orcs carry foul diseases with them. Their bodies have infected the floor here. Move him we must."
Éomer nodded and six of his éored picked Boromir up and easily moved him to the back chamber. The fire was started again and the room quickly warmed.
"I will need hot water and lots of it." She knelt next to the stricken man and opened a large pouch. Éomer could smell the medicaments and herbs. "Go away now. I will take care of him. If I need you, I will call."
Night turned into day and still Boromir seemed as if dead. Éomer sent riders to Amon Anwar; by noon a rider of Gondor came. The White Tree was emblazoned upon the man's livery. Éomer kept his hand on his sword. He had no idea what would transpire here. This rider's captain lay near death and in the presence of Rohirrim. There was no longer the open trust of a few year's back; there was dissension and distrust. Éomer knew his life and the lives of his men hung in the balance with the words he was about to utter.
He stepped up and saluted the Gondorian. "Orcs attacked your captain's company. None but Boromir survived. He was alive, but barely, when we found him. My healer is with him now."
"Will he live?"
"She believes he will."
"What was he doing here? I had no report of him coming to Amon Anwar."
"He came to the Mering to meet with me, as far as I can discern. I… I was not at the camp when he arrived so he left."
"I must notify the Steward."
"Boromir left a company at the Mering. When I returned from Edoras, I was told of Boromir's arrival and later departure; I quickly left to follow him. We found the remains of a battle near the Firien, then followed tracks and discovered this cave and Boromir. The Orcs were holding him as captive." He saw the man shudder and quickly continued. "We overcame them and released Boromir, but he was already grievous wounded. I sent a rider back to Boromir's company at the Mering. I was told they dispatched a rider to Minas Tirith."
The man sighed and Éomer realized the Gondorian was glad that he did not have to be the one to send a rider. Such dreadful news for the Steward would not be well-received.
"The garrison at Amon Anwar is too small. He should be moved back to the City. Yet, is he able?"
"I think not. He began to bleed further when we moved him a short distance to the back chamber of this cave."
"May I see him?"
"Of course," Éomer said, surprised at the diffidence in the request. "Come with me."
Éomer bent to enter the chamber and the Gondorian followed him. He heard the man take in a sharp breath. Boromir's face was covered with the black blood of Orcs, probably from the battle, and his tunic, laid to the side, was drenched with his own blood. The wound gaped open, wide and ugly, while Boromir's sides were purpling into nasty bruises. "Kicked a number of times, I think," Éomer explained.
The Gondorian clenched his fists. "You spoke of a company of men with Boromir. Where are they now? Why did they do nothing to protect him?" Anger flared in the man's eyes and Éomer pulled him back into the outer room.
"They are all dead. We found sacks with their remains… we found them dead. There was one in the other room with Boromir, but he is… dead too."
The man nodded, walked to the entrance, and hurried outside. Éomer heard the retching and left the man alone.
"Faramir," the voice was weak.
Éomer ran to Boromir's side, but his friend was still unconscious. 'I must find out if Faramir was part of this sortie. If he was, Béma help us. I will then have to search the sacks.' His stomach roiled at the thought. "Send a rider to the Mering. Ask the Gondorian captain if Lord Faramir was with Captain-General Boromir." One of his men saluted and left.
Éomer slumped to the floor; this was turning more hideous than ever. If only his sentry had used common sense and had been civil to Boromir. He knew, from the accounts he had heard when he reached his camp, that things had gone horribly wrong. Boromir had been affronted and left. Obviously, Boromir planned on returning when he found that Éomer himself had returned. Théoden's orders were firm, yet this was the son of Denethor! He swore under his breath. His men milled about waiting for their Marshal to calm.
"Forgive me," the Gondorian said in embarrassment as he reentered the cave.
Éomer waived the apology aside. "Nothing to forgive. Will you send a patrol to see if there are more Orcs about the area?"
"I have already ordered it. My men left the outpost as I was riding here. Your rider told me of the attack. Hence the swiftness of my arrival. I am grateful."
"This should never have happened. Did you know of Orcs in the area?"
The man paused and Éomer wondered at the rift that was slowly building between Rohan and Gondor.
"We did not. I wondered if Rohan knew."
"There has always been Orc activity upon these foothills, but I knew of naught in recent days. I just returned from a sortie to the Emyn Muil. There, we fought and slew every Orc we found."
"I am sorry for the hesitation. I have heard rumours that Rohan…"
"That Rohan does not abide by its oath?"
The man blushed this time and for that, Éomer was glad. "This is something that must be stopped. I know my men are at fault also, but we both watch this border: you on the Gondorian side and my men on the Rohirric side. We must cooperate." He wanted to add 'whether our leaders cooperate or no,' but he didn't. "Have you orders to keep silent?"
The captain drew in a firm breath. "We do not! If we had heard, we would have sent a rider to your outpost." The unspoken rebuke hung in the air.
"Then you have Rohan's gratitude. What is your name?"
"Mardil. Captain of Amon Anwar. And yours?"
This time, Éomer blushed. "I am sorry. I am Éomer, Marshal of the Riddermark. I thought you knew else I would have introduced myself. I am humbled by your trust, answering my questions without reservation."
"The Rohirrim are our allies. Is there aught I should have done?"
"Nay. And I will make sure your Captain-General knows of your sense of duty. I am proud to call you ally."
Mardil smiled. "As am I."
~~*~
Morning came and with it, a deep sense of urgency. No Orcs had been found; the Gondorians had come to the cave and reported to Mardil. This did nothing to lighten the mood of all present. Boromir was failing. Though the wound was not poisoned, he had lost a large amount of blood.
Mardil sat next to Éomer. "I think we must move him to Minas Tirith else he die."
"I agree but the ride will probably kill him." Éomer clenched his fists in anguish. "Gondor… Nay! Rohan cannot afford to lose such a warrior as he."
"The longer we wait, the worse it will be. I can have two companies here within an hour. That should be enough."
"I will come with you. I must… The Steward will want a full report and I am duty-bound to give one."
"I will accompany you." Mardil left the cave and Éomer heard him shouting orders. Within moments, the Gondorian patrol was gone.
Éomer called his own aide over and commanded him to bring Boromir's company from the Mering.
Mardil stopped him. "If relations are as bad as they seem at the Mering, I will go with your errand-rider and bring the company back myself. I do not think they will obey you."
Éomer nodded. "I will have Boromir ready. You should be back by noon?"
"We should, barring any further attacks."
"I will, with your permission, send out two companies into Gondor, along the West Road, and have them scout before us."
"Aye. My outpost will be close to depleted with the two companies gone. I will send one of my men with your scouts else they be accosted by mistake."
Both men knew it would not be by mistake, but they kept their thoughts to themselves. Mardil left shortly thereafter and Éomer went to prepare Boromir for the trip to Minas Tirith.
"Give me this night," the healer pled when Mardil returned with Boromir's remaining company. "It is already past noon. You will only have a few hours to ride. He is weak; I must put fluids back into him." The leech stood before Éomer. "It is well to take him to Mundberg, but not tonight."
"I agree. What say you, Mardil?"
"If she thinks she can help strengthen him further, then it would be best to wait. I have syringes at the garrison if she needs extra."
"Syringes? Do you mean syrinx?" the healer looked at him quizzically. "For what?"
"For putting the fluids back. How else?" He looked at her in horror. "You would not…? A physic? That practice has not been used for a hundred years! Not for replacing fluids!"
"It is safe and done in the King's own hall," the healer sputtered. "I have done it since I was nigh unto a babe. How else indeed? Not with some sharp thing that could puncture him!"
"Of course it would puncture him and put the fluids where they belong, in his body!"
The healer stood up, straight and tall. "My way will not puncture him. Now, leave me and let me do what I must. Marshal," she turned to the dumbfounded Rohir, "I need to make a broth, of beef if you have any."
Éomer nodded and left the chamber, pulling Mardil out with him.
The Gondorian pulled up once they had left the inner chamber and grabbed Éomer by the arm. "I will not allow it. It is barbaric!"
"Have you any skilled in using the syrinx?"
Mardil shook his head. "Nay, but you cannot allow her to do that."
"We have no recourse. He is not awake. We cannot force the fluids down his throat. He will choke and eventually it will bring lung sickness. It must be this way, at least until we reach Mundberg."
"And why does he not wake?"
"The Orcs saw us and panicked. They pushed him. He hit his head on the cave's entranceway right before we rescued him. I think he must have a héafodwund."
"A concussion?"
"Did you check his eyes?"
Éomer looked at the man with disdain. "We are not barbarians as you seem to imply."
"I am only concerned for my captain. These are questions you would ask also, if our roles were reversed."
The frustration in Mardil's voice touched a note in Éomer's heart. "You are right. But you must let the healer do what she can. Without this, he will surely die."
"I… I will stay with him while she does it."
"Of course. As will I."
The night proved extremely long for Mardil. Boromir's body was limp and non-responsive. Even during the physics, he did not move, nor moan. By the time morning came, Mardil was exhausted. He looked at the Rohirric Marshal. The man's eyes were closed, but Mardil knew he did not sleep. The healer had left the chamber to try to sleep a little before they broke camp. Mardil wished with all his heart that he could do the same, but if Boromir died while he slept…. He took a huge gulp of air and Éomer opened his eyes.
"Is aught wrong?"
"Nay. We must break camp soon and leave."
"Is he worse?"
"Nay," Mardil shook his head in frustration. "But he is no better. We must leave now."
"I will assemble the men. We can break our fast on the road. The handcart has been made?"
"It has. It is ready to carry him. It is strapped to his own horse. Odd that the horse survived the Orcs' attack. Usually they eat them, too."
"Boromir's horse has been in the thick of battle too many times. It knows to run and then return, once the battle is o'er."
"Then it will be well for Boromir to have his own horse pull him."
Faramir returned to Minas Tirith three days after Denethor's visit to Osgiliath. He walked slowly into the Great Hall, expecting to see Denethor. The Steward sat in the Chair. He had been hearing the grievances of his people and giving his judgments. Faramir stood in the back by the entrance hall and waited. The Chamberlain whispered in Denethor's ear, when he caught sight of the Steward's son; Denethor raised his eyes from the man in front of him and looked down the hall. He nodded and Faramir smiled in acknowledgement. The young captain went directly to Denethor's private study and waited.
"It is good to see you here," Denethor said as he entered the room. He poured them both glasses of wine and handed one to Faramir. "I had not expected you for another seven or eight days."
Faramir had almost jumped when Denethor spoke; he had been lost in thought. But now, he stood, greeting his father with a warm hug. "I… My heart is heavy and I know not why. I thought… I thought you might have word of Boromir?"
"Nay. He should be on his way home by now. I have not received any missives, which is sometimes unusual for your brother." Denethor smiled. "Or not."
Faramir chuckled. "More likely, or not, with Boromir. Probably has been having too much fun. Hunting and fishing along the way. Singing and dancing in the evenings. He is unattached for only a short time more. Probably savouring the moments."
Denethor stood by the window and looked northward. "I wish he would send a rider. I am anxious to find how his dealings with Éomer progressed."
Faramir stood behind Denethor, scanning the northern horizon himself, but for a different reason. Two nights before, he had a hideous nightmare. He had seen Boromir covered with blood and lying in some filthy cave, an Orc standing over him. The dream repeated itself last night also. He left Osgiliath looking for answers. Though now that he was here, he could not bring himself to ask Denethor, but he was worried.
"You do not look as if you rested at all while at the garrison, Faramir. I thought I asked you to take care of yourself?"
"I did, Father. I rested whenever I was able."
"Which, by the look of the bags under your eyes, was not often. If Boromir comes home and finds you in this state, he will be quite put out. And will probably blame me."
"Nay, Father. He likes to blame Fëanor." Faramir smiled at the old joke. "But you do not look much better, Father. Have you not slept?"
"Imrahil shoes me to bed every evening before the mid night hour. I can hardly get any work done. But I am well." He did not mention the horrid dreams he had been having. No sense in upsetting Faramir. He looked down into his wine glass. The red was the same red as Boromir's blood, in his dreams. He held himself so that Faramir would not see the shiver that tried to shame him.
"Are plans going well for the betrothal?"
"They are, much to Arthad's dismay. I put the young aide in charge of the ceremony and all the other attendant parts of it. He is quite good at it, but I understand he is not very happy about doing it. I think he is more unhappy that he is not with Boromir, than unhappy with his duties."
Faramir smiled. "Arthad is a good man. I believe Boromir wants to make him captain of Cair Andros next year. He trusts the man implicitly."
"He plans well. Everything is running smoothly. If the woman came tomorrow, I believe we would be ready for her."
"I wish she would. This waiting is interminable."


At Perram and Timmins Funerals Sydney we have a number of exceptionally talented people who officiate at our life celebration funerals. These people come from all works of life, social workers, carers, the funeral industry and former clergy. Each one has a common wish to help families at life's most difficult time.
The celebrant will design every aspect of the funeral service in order to achieve a ceremony that celebrates and commemorates the life of your family member or loved one that personally reflects that very special life. A few days prior to the funeral you will meet with our celebrant to plan the service. This meeting will develop the style and substance of your personally arranged funeral service. The more input that comes from the family or close personal friend help make the life celebration funeral a fitting tribute for a meaningful and full life.
The day of the funeral you will meet the celebrant before the funeral to discuss any last minutes changes and final details. This personal meeting, together with your personal funeral arranger and conductor secures you have familiar at the funeral who know exactly what is required at the service.


I don't pretend to understand why Mike suggesting an excuse involving baby ducks is so funny to me. Maybe it's because I can hear the delivery in my head. Maybe there's just something inherently funny about baby ducks. Who can say? I just hope that there are other people that think this is funny too. In fact, I hope baby ducks get blamed for a lot of things from now on.
I blame baby ducks for global warming.
Lordy… is Mike attempting to be funny here, especially when Carol already seemed annoyed to begin with? He's got more balls than I thought. I am liking seeing his pitiful bee-hind in color though.
I'm enjoying the backgrounds as well. Stuff like the bulletin boards and posters and such make the comic pop out more. Baby ducks please me as well. I'm just amused all around by this.
In my old neighborhood, we had a road sign that said "Duck Crossing." It was accompanied by a picture of a large duck, followed by several smaller ones.
I saw that sign in a neighborhood nearby, and it annoyed me no end, because there were a couple of ducklings that were FLYING on the sign. The designer had obviously never seen a duckling, or a baby bird of any kind, or he would have known that baby birds CAN'T FLY!
you know, I've actually been able to use a baby ducks exscuse. My parents house had a big pond in the back yard that wild ducks lived and nested in. one year they somehow got inside my car while the windows were down, so I was late getting to school.
Stupid fuzzy yellow adorable bastards.
That's a pretty nice way to call someone slow.
It's the fact that he can't even get it together enough to form the sentence "there were beby ducks crossing the road and I had to stop for them" that makes it funny.
I once was on a moon where the principal form of recreation was juggling baby geese. Hand to God, they juggled goslings.
Stories involving ducks are funny. lol.
Baby ducks are to blame for both the biblical flood of noah and world war one and the kaisers rise to powers. A duck was really who shot that bullet that fateful day. Jfk too. So there you go, enjoy that fact of the illuminati/majestic 13/templar-masonic yellow fowl conspiracy. FIGHT THE CUDDLY POWER!
It's funnier that Carol acknowledges the idea that an excuse for being late is a myth.
aw, poor failman has suffered again. iz ok failman, baby ducks are evil. they control minds ya know.
……evil little fuzzballz…..zomg, duck in room…..kill……..
im looking forward to following it along with other rare worthy comics ive uncovered in the past.
I think its funny he's telling her he's making it up.
text: Seriously, who picks up a duck in a dungeon?
It's dangerous to go alone, take this.
Cause, duck, cat, same difference.
Uhm, I'm not sure if it was intentional, but you wrote 'something' as 'somthing' for Mike in the 3rd panel.
You wrote it as "somethin' " the panel before, indicating an accent… nobody has commented on it yet, so I might be just talking about nothing here.
Any joke is funnier if you put a duck in it.


text:
package com.senacor.ddt.test.junit;

import java.io.BufferedWriter;
import java.io.IOException;
import java.io.OutputStream;
import java.io.OutputStreamWriter;
import java.io.Writer;
import java.util.Enumeration;
import java.util.HashSet;
import java.util.Hashtable;
import java.util.Iterator;
import java.util.Properties;
import java.util.Set;

import javax.xml.parsers.DocumentBuilder;
import javax.xml.parsers.DocumentBuilderFactory;

import junit.framework.AssertionFailedError;
import junit.framework.Test;

import org.apache.tools.ant.BuildException;
import org.apache.tools.ant.taskdefs.optional.junit.FormatterElement;
import org.apache.tools.ant.taskdefs.optional.junit.JUnitResultFormatter;
import org.apache.tools.ant.taskdefs.optional.junit.JUnitTest;
import org.apache.tools.ant.taskdefs.optional.junit.JUnitTestRunner;
import org.apache.tools.ant.taskdefs.optional.junit.JUnitVersionHelper;
import org.apache.tools.ant.taskdefs.optional.junit.XMLConstants;
import org.apache.tools.ant.util.DOMElementWriter;
import org.w3c.dom.Document;
import org.w3c.dom.Element;
import org.w3c.dom.Text;

import com.senacor.ddt.test.DataDrivenTestCase;
import com.senacor.ddt.test.ReportingTestCase;
import com.senacor.ddt.test.report.ReportLevel;
import com.senacor.ddt.test.report.ReportMessage;

/**
 * Prints XML output of the test to a specified Writer.
 *
 *
 * @see FormatterElement
 */
public class MessageAwareXMLJUnitResultFormatter implements JUnitResultFormatter, XMLConstants {
  private static final String GREEN = "green";

  private static final String RED = "red";

  private static final String YELLOW = "yellow";

  private static final String MESSAGE = "message";

  private static final String ATTR_MESSAGE_TYPE = "type";

  private static final String DESCRIPTION = "description";

  private static final String ATTR_TEST_ID = "test-id";

  private static int idSequence = 0;

  /**
   * The XML document.
   */
  private Document doc;

  /**
   * The wrapper for the whole test suite.
   */
  private Element rootElement;

  /**
   * Element for the current test.
   */
  private final Hashtable testElements = new Hashtable();

  /**
   * tests that failed.
   */
  private final Hashtable failedTests = new Hashtable();

  /**
   * Timing helper.
   */
  private final Hashtable testStarts = new Hashtable();

  /**
   * Where to write the log to.
   */
  private OutputStream out;

  private final Set seenTests = new HashSet();

  /**
   * Constructor
   */
  public MessageAwareXMLJUnitResultFormatter() {
    // nothing to be done
  }

  private static DocumentBuilder getDocumentBuilder() {
    try {
      return DocumentBuilderFactory.newInstance().newDocumentBuilder();
    } catch (final Exception exc) {
      throw new ExceptionInInitializerError(exc);
    }
  }

  /**
   * @see org.apache.tools.ant.taskdefs.optional.junit.JUnitResultFormatter#setOutput(java.io.OutputStream)
   */
  public void setOutput(final OutputStream out) {
    this.out = out;
  }

  /**
   * @see org.apache.tools.ant.taskdefs.optional.junit.JUnitResultFormatter#setSystemOutput(java.lang.String)
   */
  public void setSystemOutput(final String out) {
    formatOutput(SYSTEM_OUT, out);
  }

  /**
   * @see org.apache.tools.ant.taskdefs.optional.junit.JUnitResultFormatter#setSystemError(java.lang.String)
   */
  public void setSystemError(final String out) {
    formatOutput(SYSTEM_ERR, out);
  }

  /**
   * The whole test suite started.
   *
   * @param suite
   *          -
   */
  public void startTestSuite(final JUnitTest suite) {
    this.doc = getDocumentBuilder().newDocument();
    this.rootElement = this.doc.createElement(TESTSUITE);
    this.rootElement.setAttribute(ATTR_NAME, suite.getName());

    // Output properties
    final Element propsElement = this.doc.createElement(PROPERTIES);
    this.rootElement.appendChild(propsElement);

    final Properties props = suite.getProperties();
    if (props != null) {
      final Enumeration e = props.propertyNames();
      while (e.hasMoreElements()) {
        final String name = (String) e.nextElement();
        final Element propElement = this.doc.createElement(PROPERTY);
        propElement.setAttribute(ATTR_NAME, name);
        propElement.setAttribute(ATTR_VALUE, props.getProperty(name));
        propsElement.appendChild(propElement);
      }
    }
  }

  /**
   * The whole test suite ended.
   *
   * @param suite
   *          -
   * @throws BuildException
   *           -
   */
  public void endTestSuite(final JUnitTest suite) throws BuildException {
    this.rootElement.setAttribute(ATTR_TESTS, "" + suite.runCount());
    this.rootElement.setAttribute(ATTR_FAILURES, "" + suite.failureCount());
    this.rootElement.setAttribute(ATTR_ERRORS, "" + suite.errorCount());
    this.rootElement.setAttribute(ATTR_TIME, "" + (suite.getRunTime() / 1000.0));
    if (this.out != null) {
      Writer wri = null;
      try {
        wri = new BufferedWriter(new OutputStreamWriter(this.out, "UTF8"));
        wri.write("<?xml version=\"1.0\" encoding=\"UTF-8\" ?>\n");
        (new DOMElementWriter()).write(this.rootElement, wri, 0, "  ");
        wri.flush();
      } catch (final IOException exc) {
        throw new BuildException("Unable to write log file", exc);
      } finally {
        if ((this.out != System.out) && (this.out != System.err)) {
          if (wri != null) {
            try {
              wri.close();
            } catch (final IOException e) {
              // ignore
            }
          }
        }
      }
    }
  }

  /**
   * Interface TestListener.
   *
   *

   * A new Test is started.
   *
   * @param t
   *          -
   */
  public void startTest(final Test t) {
    this.testStarts.put(t, new Long(System.currentTimeMillis()));
  }

  /**
   * Interface TestListener.
   *
   *

   * A Test is finished.
   *
   * @param test
   *          .
   */
  public void endTest(final Test test) {
    if (this.seenTests.contains(test)) {
      return;
    }

    // Fix for bug #5637 - if a junit.extensions.TestSetup is
    // used and throws an exception during setUp then startTest
    // would never have been called
    if (!this.testStarts.containsKey(test)) {
      startTest(test);
    }

    Element currentTest = null;
    if (!this.failedTests.containsKey(test)) {
      currentTest = this.doc.createElement(TESTCASE);
      currentTest.setAttribute(ATTR_NAME, JUnitVersionHelper.getTestCaseName(test));

      // a TestSuite can contain Tests from multiple classes,
      // even tests with the same name - disambiguate them.
      currentTest.setAttribute(ATTR_CLASSNAME, test.getClass().getName());
      this.rootElement.appendChild(currentTest);
      this.testElements.put(test, currentTest);
    } else {
      currentTest = (Element) this.testElements.get(test);
    }

    if (test instanceof ReportingTestCase) {
      final ReportingTestCase rtest = (ReportingTestCase) test;
      final Iterator iter = rtest.getReport().getMessages().iterator();
      while (iter.hasNext()) {
        final ReportMessage msg = (ReportMessage) iter.next();
        currentTest.appendChild(formatMessage(getMessageColor(msg), msg.getMessage()));
      }
    }
    if (test instanceof DataDrivenTestCase) {
      final DataDrivenTestCase dtest = (DataDrivenTestCase) test;
      final Element description = this.doc.createElement(DESCRIPTION);
      final Text descText = this.doc.createTextNode(dtest.getTestCaseData().getDescription());
      description.appendChild(descText);
      currentTest.appendChild(description);
    }

    currentTest.setAttribute(ATTR_TEST_ID, "" + (idSequence++));

    final Long l = (Long) this.testStarts.get(test);
    currentTest.setAttribute(ATTR_TIME, "" + ((System.currentTimeMillis() - l.longValue()) / 1000.0));
    this.seenTests.add(test);
  }

  private String getMessageColor(final ReportMessage msg) {
    if (ReportLevel.GREEN == msg.getLevel()) {
      return GREEN;
    } else if (ReportLevel.RED == msg.getLevel()) {
      return RED;
    } else if (ReportLevel.YELLOW == msg.getLevel()) {
      return YELLOW;
    } else {
      return YELLOW;
    }
  }

  private Element formatMessage(final String msgType, final String msg) {
    final Element msgElement = this.doc.createElement(MESSAGE);
    msgElement.setAttribute(ATTR_MESSAGE_TYPE, msgType);

    final Text msgTextElement = this.doc.createTextNode(msg);
    msgElement.appendChild(msgTextElement);

    return msgElement;
  }

  /**
   * Interface TestListener for JUnit <= 3.4.
   *
   *

   * A Test failed.
   *
   * @param test
   *          -
   * @param t
   *          -
   */
  public void addFailure(final Test test, final Throwable t) {
    formatError(FAILURE, test, t);
  }

  /**
   * Interface TestListener for JUnit > 3.4.
   *
   *

   * A Test failed.
   *
   * @param test
   *          -
   * @param t
   *          -
   */
  public void addFailure(final Test test, final AssertionFailedError t) {
    addFailure(test, (Throwable) t);
  }

  /**
   * Interface TestListener.
   *
   *

   * An error occurred while running the test.
   *
   * @param test
   *          -
   * @param t
   *          -
   */
  public void addError(final Test test, final Throwable t) {
    formatError(ERROR, test, t);
  }

  private void formatError(final String type, final Test test, final Throwable t) {
    if (test != null) {
      endTest(test);
      this.failedTests.put(test, test);
    }

    final Element nested = this.doc.createElement(type);
    Element currentTest = null;
    if (test != null) {
      currentTest = (Element) this.testElements.get(test);
    } else {
      currentTest = this.rootElement;
    }

    currentTest.appendChild(nested);

    final String message = t.getMessage();
    if ((message != null) && (message.length() > 0)) {
      nested.setAttribute(ATTR_MESSAGE, t.getMessage());
    }
    nested.setAttribute(ATTR_TYPE, t.getClass().getName());

    final String strace = JUnitTestRunner.getFilteredTrace(t);
    final Text trace = this.doc.createTextNode(strace);
    nested.appendChild(trace);
  }

  private void formatOutput(final String type, final String output) {
    final Element nested = this.doc.createElement(type);
    this.rootElement.appendChild(nested);
    nested.appendChild(this.doc.createCDATASection(output));
  }
} // XMLJUnitResultFormatter

redpajama_set_name: RedPajamaGithub


text:
package metrics

import (
	"github.com/apigee/registry/rpc"
)

// ComputeStats will compute the ChangeStats proto for a list of Classified Diffs.
func ComputeStats(diffs ...*rpc.ChangeDetails) *rpc.ChangeStats {
	var breaking int64 = 0
	var nonbreaking int64 = 0
	var unknown int64 = 0
	for _, diff := range diffs {
		breaking += int64(len(diff.BreakingChanges.Additions))
		breaking += int64(len(diff.BreakingChanges.Deletions))
		breaking += int64(len(diff.BreakingChanges.Modifications))

		nonbreaking += int64(len(diff.NonBreakingChanges.Additions))
		nonbreaking += int64(len(diff.NonBreakingChanges.Deletions))
		nonbreaking += int64(len(diff.NonBreakingChanges.Modifications))

		unknown += int64(len(diff.UnknownChanges.Additions))
		unknown += int64(len(diff.UnknownChanges.Deletions))
		unknown += int64(len(diff.UnknownChanges.Modifications))
	}

	return &rpc.ChangeStats{
		BreakingChangeCount: breaking,
		// Default Unknown Changes to Nonbreaking.
		NonbreakingChangeCount: nonbreaking + unknown,
		DiffCount:              int64(len(diffs)),
	}
}

// ComputeMetrics will compute the metrics proto for a list of Classified Diffs.
func ComputeMetrics(stats *rpc.ChangeStats) *rpc.ChangeMetrics {
	breakingChangePercentage := (float64(stats.BreakingChangeCount) /
		float64(stats.BreakingChangeCount+stats.NonbreakingChangeCount))
	breakingChangeRate := float64(stats.BreakingChangeCount) / float64(stats.DiffCount)
	return &rpc.ChangeMetrics{
		BreakingChangePercentage: breakingChangePercentage,
		BreakingChangeRate:       breakingChangeRate,
	}
}


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The AEA was formed in response to a need. The Engineering Profession has been on a downward spiral since the heydays of the 70's when there was an abundance of Engineering projects.
One Remarkable Fact Says It All: Since 1963, members from a single professional society have achieved virtually every milestone in modern American flight. That society is the American Institute of Aeronautics and Astronautics.
On February 23, 1857, 13 architects met in Richard Upjohn's office to form what would become the American Institute of Architects.
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A security team's biggest fear is an attack carried out by a knowledgeable insider, and with the economy driving job cuts within many organizations, those worries are being realized in the form of discharged workers who retain access to their former employers' IT systems, according to a new survey.
With jobs walking out the door, along with larger numbers of remote workers, many organizations have yet to account for tightening their defenses to address the ongoing trends, claims the report, published by security and password management specialists Cloakware.
Based on a survey of over 12,500 U.S. IT security workers, the report claims that among those organizations represented in the research, a minimum of 1,312,500 laid-off or fired employees retain access to company systems in total.
Overall, the report contends that roughly 14 percent of all recently discharged workers still have access to proprietary data and organizational information, "revealing critical deficiencies of corporate security policies," Cloakware said. At least 21 percent of respondents admitted that they hadn't changed employees' passwords after they were terminated.
In other efforts to save money by moving more staffers out of the office, while some 90 percent of companies that responded said they employ remote workers and 41 percent said they have increased their use of the model over the last year, most of the organizations said that they hadn't altered their authentication policies to account for the shift.
"With companies facing dwindling margins, reducing overhead costs is driving a change in employee work arrangements, but it also reveals weak protection practices - a critical issue for long-term security," David Canellos, president and chief operating officer of Cloakware. "Simply put, companies are only beginning to realize the need for more stringent standards to govern access to their critical information and protect their crucial company assets."
-Disconnect between departments as to which group "owns" management of IT systems access for employees. Two thirds of respondents reported that their IT departments handle responsibility, but others involved HR and direct managers, a lack of continuity that can leave companies vulnerable to malicious former employee attacks, Cloakware maintains.
-Inconsistent internal password management policies: Some three-quarters of respondents reported that they require periodic password changes, either monthly (31 percent of those who do) or quarterly (69 percent). However, only 20 percent said they have an automated password update function that enforces the policy.
-Overly simple new-employee access: Over 80 percent admitted that for new employees, all e-mail address and password setup is the same, making it "extremely easy to take advantage of a new co-worker's access to critical company resources," the security management experts contend.
The survey was conducted in March 2009 with workers at companies with 1,000 or more employees across a wide range of vertical industries, Cloakware said.
What the report left out was that many spurned workers are probably only too happy to take advantage of their access retention, or to sell off their credentials to someone else.
A bad economy is unquestionably bad for security.


text:
package hackathon.women.challengeme;

import java.util.List;

import android.app.ActivityManager;
import android.app.Service;
import android.content.Context;
import android.content.Intent;
import android.os.Bundle;
import android.os.IBinder;
import android.util.Log;
import android.widget.Toast;

public class MyChallengeService extends Service {

	public boolean ChallengeAccepted = false;
	String ChallengeName;
	String topActivityName;

	public MyChallengeService() {
	}

	@Override
	public IBinder onBind(Intent intent) {
		// TODO: Return the communication channel to the service.
		//throw new UnsupportedOperationException("Not yet implemented");
		return null;
	}

	@Override
	public int onStartCommand(Intent intent, int flags, int startId)
	{
		Toast.makeText(MyChallengeService.this,"Service started",
				Toast.LENGTH_LONG).show();
		//Bundle bundle = intent.getExtras();
		//ChallengeName = (String) bundle.getCharSequence("ChallengeName");
		//ChallengeName = (String) bundle.getString("ChallengeName"); to use
		ChallengeName = intent.getStringExtra("ChallengeName");
		startChallenge();
//		if(true == isRunningInForeground()){
//			Toast.makeText(getApplicationContext(),
//					"Called: Name: "+ChallengeName, Toast.LENGTH_SHORT).show();
//		}
		return Service.START_NOT_STICKY;
	}

	private void startChallenge() {
		boolean appNameChecker;
		appNameChecker = isRunningInForeground();
		if(appNameChecker == true){
			if(ChallengeName.equalsIgnoreCase(topActivityName)){
				Toast.makeText(getApplicationContext(),
						"Matched", Toast.LENGTH_SHORT).show();
				/* 	Go to lost page	 */
				Intent MissionFailedScreenpage = new Intent(this, MissionFailed.class);
				MissionFailedScreenpage.setFlags(Intent.FLAG_ACTIVITY_NEW_TASK);
				Log.v("Main Activity", "Navigating to choose MissionFailedScreenpage page");
				startActivity(MissionFailedScreenpage);
			}
			else{
				/* 	Go to Won Page	*/
				Intent MissionAccomplishedScreenpage = new Intent(this, MissionAccomplished.class);
				MissionAccomplishedScreenpage.setFlags(Intent.FLAG_ACTIVITY_NEW_TASK);
				Log.v("Main Activity", "Navigating to choose MissionAccomplishedScreenpage page");
				startActivity(MissionAccomplishedScreenpage);
			}

		}
	}

	protected boolean isRunningInForeground() {
		    ActivityManager manager =
		         (ActivityManager) getSystemService(Context.ACTIVITY_SERVICE);
		    List<ActivityManager.RunningTaskInfo> tasks = manager.getRunningTasks(1);
		    if (tasks.isEmpty()) {
		        return false;
		    }
		    topActivityName = tasks.get(0).topActivity.getPackageName();
			Toast.makeText(getApplicationContext(),
					"ActivityOnTop: "+topActivityName, Toast.LENGTH_SHORT).show();
		    return topActivityName.equalsIgnoreCase(getPackageName());
		}

}


text:
Q: What is the difference from the auth, web and guard middleware in Laravel 5.8 I'm a newbie in Laravel. Can someone explain what is the difference from web, auth, and guest middleware in Laravel 5.8?

A: auth middleware allows only for authenticated users to access the routes and your logic behind it. For example, only auth users can create questions and give answers.
guest middleware can only be accessed by unauthenticated users. For example, login and register page.
And web middleware is a group of middleware that you commonly use in your application. Such as cookie encryption, csrf token verification, and etc.

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I have in the past, been seduced by the various war on waste, using up leftovers books and articles around recently. But as I discussed with my wonderful Godmama, we never seem to have the 'right' kind of overlefts. I prefer to cook one pot type dishes, and they are already a meal, so the only thing to do usually is put them in a microwave-safe 'dubba' and reheat.
Well, finally yesterday I had too much mash! The plan had been to make my lamb mince comfort pulao, but I decided instead to use the mash (and 'healthy' mash it was too, with skins left on, we call it dirty mash) so I fried up the frozen lamb mince (I have a free flow bag in there at all times) with some frozen chopped onions, a teaspoon of garam masala and a teaspoon of cinnamon and half a teaspoon of salt. A cupful of frozen peas added some emerald veggie colour. Once that was cooked fully, I tipped it into a bowl with the mash, and mixed it all thoroughly. I then made patties by hand and fried them in the flat bottomed non-stick wok I just cooked the meat in, flipping once, and served them golden, crisp and lusciously savoury. Littl'Un liked a splodge of rich organic ketchup, Big loved them as is, I enjoyed a mouth-tingling garlic Tabasco puddle to dab at.
I couldn't find the recipe I used last time I made kheer, so I improvised a rice pudding with some indian flavours - pinch of saffron, ground cardomom seeds, ground almonds, and an hour later had a rich, creamy, deceptively light-tasting rice pudding. Big'Un loved this, Littl'Un did her shoulder-collapse and announced her hate of such things. Ah well, you can't win them all!


"the mind recoils in its presence flees the body rather than sit and fall to madness usefullness as a torture tool dubious as victims die rather than waste"
In this week's Wednesday Werk, we'll look at the Blatherer.
The Blatherer is a large, white worm that speaks continuously. Seriously.
Some scholars have suggested that the Blatherer was an experiment gone wrong, a crossbreed between a Yuan-Ti and a Gibbering Mouther. Or a demon trapped in mortal form. Or any one of a million insane theories.
Whatever the case, Blatherers aren't terribly common, but they can be found anywhere throughout the planes. It is not clear whether they are sapient or not — they appear to know a lot about a variety of subjects, but they can hardly be described as fighting intelligently. (In fact, they can hardly be said to fight at all.) They do not seem aggressive, and rarely bite.
However, Blatherers are extremely offensive. They talk constantly — they apparently respire through their skin and breathe underwater, meaning that they do not have to pause for breath. All they speak are banal platitudes, blasphemous curses, insults, and the like. This forms a psychic barrier of offensive thought that is genuinely injurious to nearby minds — even the deaf cannot escape the Blatherer.
In combat, Blatherers typically appear uninterested and may attempt strange tactics as they fight. The psychic attacks of a Blatherer all seem incidental and subconscious; they do not seem to actively repel enemies. In fact, Blatherers typically come across as somewhat curious, wading into foreign parties and coincidentally causing mayhem with their infernal rambling. A Blatherer will typically open combat with Churlish Insult, only using Mindless Drivel when two or more enemies are within range. It will use Boring Anecdote each round an enemy is within range. It uses Blasphemous Whispering whenever it triggers. Blatherers never retreat, although they may sometimes wander out of a combat situation. They will, however, continue to "attack" nearby targets until they die.
Probably one of the more disturbing beasties yet, in my opinion. It just. Doesn't. Stop.