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Crassula exilis Harv. Common names: None recorded An attractive, dwarf succulent flowering cushion, excellent for rockeries and living walls. Crassula exilis grows naturally as a dense mat, forming cushions usually in crevices and soil pockets on vertical or steep rock faces. The leaves are variable in size and appearance but are typically 4-45 mm long and 3-10 mm wide, often with a convex upper leaf surface, and tapering towards a point. They usually have fine hairs along the margin. The colour is usually grey-green with dark irregularly placed dimpled spots on the upper surface. The plant is highly branched giving rise to the dense leafy mats. Flowers appear in late summer through to late autumn. They are small and cup-shaped with petal tips spreading from midway up the corolla tube, usually 3 mm in diameter, and white to more or less pink, with a musty honey-like fragrance. They cluster to form a dense inflorescence which can be up to 100 mm high. The root system is adventitious. Flowers develop into small capsules which release fine dust-like seed. There are four recognized subspecies: C. exilis subsp. exilis, subsp. cooperi, subsp. picturata, and subsp. sedifolia. Crassula exilis subsp. exilis is considered rare in the 2009 Red Data listing (Raimondo et al. 2009). The other subspecies have no threat status. Distribution and habitat The distribution area stretches from the most westerly populations of C. exilis subsp. exilis in the Northern Cape and C. exilis subsp. sedifolia also in the Northern Cape and southern Namibia to C. exilis subsp. cooperi in the Eastern Cape from Graaff-Reinet to Aliwal North. Derivation of name and historical aspects Crassula in Latin means 'the little fat one'; exilis, also Latin, means 'small, delicate, meager and of weak appearance'. Plants are usually found in rock crevices or shallow soil pockets in protected moist and shaded places on steep or vertical rock faces. They are recognized as obligate cliff dwellers, meaning that they live exclusively on rock faces and never on flat open soil. This is an effective anti-herbivory mechanism. The geology on which they occur is varied and includes sandstones, granites and shales. There are no known uses for this plant. Growing Crassula exilis Crassulas are amongst the easiest plants to cultivate and this species is no exception. They can grow in virtually any type of soil but prefer a mixture of half gritty sand and half fine compost. They can grow in light shade or in sunny positions and make excellent cushion plants for rockeries or living walls. They are not demanding in regard to water but will grow faster under moister conditions. Watering should take place at least once a week but they will survive with less. Propagation is easy from cuttings, including leaf cuttings, at any time of the year which means they can be bulked up very easily. Cuttings can be tiny and only need to have a short section of stem with a few nodes and a few leaves. Insert them into a dry gritty growing medium and water them lightly. Keep the pot in a bright situation but out of direct sunlight at first. Rooting should take place within 2 weeks. Once the plants have visibly beefed up, move them to a sunny spot, and before long young plantlets will form, forming small rosettes which will rapidly become dense cushions. If one could ever acquire seed, this could be sown in spring. Mix the dust-like seed with a small quantity of fine sand. Spread the sand evenly over the surface of the soil which should be the same as the growing medium. Water immediately, preferably from below by standing the pot in a tray of water every few days. Keep the soil moist like this for the first month or so. Before long, tiny green plantlets should appear on the soil surface. Start to let the soil dry out between waterings. Soon the plants will bulk up and if one achieves the ideal growing conditions, one can raise many thousands of plants like this. The use of a damping-off fungicide is advisable. Occasionally they suffer from fungal infections which appear as brown blotches on their leaves. This can be treated with a fungicide and good ventilation. Otherwise, they are essentially pest free. Plants can live for many years in pots or in a rockery and will grow to occupy the available space. They are quite spectacular at flowering time when planted en masse. If conditions are right they will seed themselves and replenish themselves naturally. Like many of the closely related Sedum species in Europe, this species is also particularly well suited for use in establishing an artificial living wall. Plants do not require much water and are resilient during dry spells. They also grow in full sun and full shade making them very versatile plants. They also provide the added bonus that they shed their old inflorescences quite quickly after flowering, keeping the plant looking neat and tidy. - Raimondo, D., Von Staden, L., Foden, W., Victor, J.E., Helme, N.A., Turner, R.C., Kamundi, D.A. & Manyama, P.A. (eds) 2009. Red List of South African plants. Strelitzia 25.South African National Biodiversity Institute, Pretoria. - Rowley, G. 2003. Crassula, A grower's guide. Cactus & Co. libri. - Tölken, H. R. 1985. Crassulaceae. Flora ofsouthern Africa. 14. Botanical Research Institute, Pretoria Kirstenbosch National Botanical Garden Plant Type: Succulent SA Distribution: Eastern Cape, Northern Cape Soil type: Sandy, Loam Flowering season: Late Summer, Autumn PH: Acid, Neutral Flower colour: White, Pink Aspect: Full Sun, Shade, Morning Sun (Semi Shade), Afternoon Sun (Semi Shade) Gardening skill: Easy

Delicious english muffins made from scratch with einkorn flour. They are soft and chewy and full of flavor. These einkorn english muffins are moist, light and flavorful, they toast up crisp and delicious. They are so much better than store bought ones. If you haven’t’ heard of einkorn before, it is an ancient grain and the purest form of wheat that has never been hybridized. It is more flavorful than modern day wheat plus it is more nutritious and easier to digest. I wish I could send you one of these einkorn english muffins to taste and convince you that einkorn flour is simply delicious. The einkorn flour is not only full of flavor but it has an exceptional nutrient profile. Einkorn is higher in protein than normal wheat and it is a good source of thiamin, phosphorus, iron, fiber and lutein, a powerful antioxidant known to benefit eye and cognitive function. Einkorn has gluten but the gluten is much different than the gluten in modern wheat and although it is not recommended for anyone with celiac, some people that are sensitive to gluten find they can tolerate einkorn. Compared to modern wheat, the gluten is weaker and the proteins, starches and fats are all profoundly different. This creates some differences in how it reacts with baking. It is especially different to bake with when you make yeast breads. Here are some tips for making yeast breads with einkorn flour. - Einkorn bread does not need to be kneaded because it will not develop the gluten. As a matter of fact over-working the dough will break the gluten down and make the dough stickier, harder to handle and can create a more crumbly texture after it is baked. - Since the gluten in einkorn is weaker than standard bread dough, it will not support a high rise. If you bake bread with modern flour you would typically allow the bread to double in size but if you attempt this with einkorn flour, the gluten will not be able to support the taller structure and and it will collapse. With einkorn bread, only let the dough rise by half (if the dough is 2 inches tall, only allow it to rise to 3 inches). - Dough made with einkorn flour should be stickier and wetter than standard bread dough. If it feels easy to handle and shape without sticking to your dry hands, it is most likely too dry and will not rise as well and will bake up dry, dense, and firm. Instead of using flour to prevent the dough from sticking to your hands, dip your hands in water and keep your hands wet. Wet hands will make it easier to handle the dough, preventing it from sticking to your hands while you shape it. - Einkorn absorbs liquids and fats slowly, if the dough seems too wet on the initial mixing, allow it to rest and go through the first rise before adding more flour. If you do add more flour to the dough, only add enough so that it holds it’s shape but is still a sticky wet dough. - If you add fats and eggs to the dough it will take more time to rise so keep the surface of the dough oiled or grease some plastic wrap and cover the dough while it rises to prevent the dough from drying out. - Use a bench scraper or knife to divide the dough instead of pulling it apart which can tear the gluten. A bench scraper will also make it easier to keep your work surface clean. I use instant yeast in this recipe. Instant yeast does not have to be dissolved in water and proofed before using it. You can add it directly to the dry ingredients and save a step. Instant yeast reacts a bit quicker than active dry yeast but either yeast will work in this recipe. If you use active dry yeast increase the amount of yeast in the recipe by 1/2 teaspoon and dissolve it first. The gluten in einkorn flour is weak and kneading the dough will break the gluten down. This recipe uses a technique of turning the dough then allowing it to rest while it absorbs the liquid and strengthens the gluten. You can skip this step and simply leave the dough alone for a couple of hours before dividing it and shaping it. I have done it both ways and there isn’t a big difference in the finished product however the folding technique creates a smoother dough and makes it slightly easier to handle. This recipe has potato flakes added to the dough. It is optional. The potato flakes help lighten the texture of the bread but you will still have a lovely, chewy texture without them. The dough in this recipe is wetter than recipes made with traditional flour. Wet hands and a wet counter top will help keep the dough from sticking while you work with it. If you use flour to prevent your hands from sticking to the dough then the extra flour will make the dough too dry and your finished english muffins will be dense, dry and hard. - 4 1/2 cups all purpose einkorn flour (540 grams) - 1/2 cup potato flakes (30 grams) (optional but will help lighten the bread) - 1 1/4 teaspoons salt - 2 1/4 teaspoons instant yeast (7 grams) - 1 3/4 cups warm milk (400 grams) - 1 egg, room temperature - 4 tablespoons (1/4 cup) butter, melted - 3 tablespoons honey (60 grams) - In a large bowl, mix the flour, potato flakes, salt and yeast until combined. In a separate bowl, combine the milk, eggs, butter and honey. Add the milk mixture to the flour mixture and stir well to combine. The mixture will be wet and sticky and look a bit lumpy and under-mixed, it is perfect that way. Place the dough a well oiled bowl, cover the bowl and let the dough rest for 20 minutes. (If you scoop the dough out with wet hands, the dough will not stick to them as easily) - Using wet hands so they don’t stick to the dough, lift the dough and fold it in half two or three times, then let it rest another 20 more minutes. Repeat this step two more times (folding it in half then letting it rest for 20 minutes). After the last folding process, cover the bowl and let it rest for 1 to 2 hours. - Line two large sheet pans with parchment paper. Divide the dough into 12 equal pieces and shape each piece into a ball. Place the balls of dough on the parchment lined baking sheet and press down to flatten them. Keep the dough rounds spaced at least 2 inches apart. Use a sharp knife to cut the parchment paper between each piece of dough so they are all sitting on a small square of parchment, this will allow you to pick the dough up once it is proofed using the parchment without disturbing the proofed dough. Lightly spray the dough with oil and cover them with a light kitchen towel. Let them proof at room temperature for 2 to 3 hours until they are just half as tall. If you allow them to double in size, the gluten in the einkorn flour will not hold the shape and they will collapse. - Preheat the oven to 350° F then heat a skillet or griddle over medium heat on the stovetop. - Slide a spatula under the parchment of the dough rounds and carefully transfer 3 to 4 pieces of dough onto the hot skillet. Cook the muffins for 6 to 8 minutes on each side until they are a light golden brown. - Once they are browned on each side, transfer them back to the sheet pan and repeat with the other uncooked muffins. - When all the muffins have been browned on both sides, place the sheet pans in the oven and bake for 8 to 10 minutes, rotating the pans half way through the bake time. - Allow the muffins to cool for 30 minutes. To split them open, insert the tines of a fork around the edges of the muffin and break them open. - The gluten in einkorn flour is weak and kneading the dough will break the gluten down. - This recipe uses a technique of turning the dough then allowing it to rest while it absorbs the liquid and strengthens the gluten. You can skip this step and simply leave the dough alone to proof for a couple of hours before dividing it and shaping it. I have done it both ways and there isn't a big difference in the finished product however the folding technique creates a smoother dough and makes it slightly easier to handle. - The potato flakes are optional, they they help lighten the texture of the bread but you will still have a lovely, chewy texture without them. - The dough in this recipe is wetter than recipes made with traditional flour. Wet hands and a wet counter top will help keep the dough from sticking while you work with it. If you use flour to prevent your hands from sticking to the dough then the extra flour will make the dough too dry and your finished english muffins will be dense, dry and hard.

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Application Call: Type Pet Farm. For other animals it might be to restore their reproduction ability e.g. after injury, illness, seniority, or that they have actually been formerly sterilized (equines, dogs, cats) (Blasco, 2008; Montaldo, 2006 ). The basic idea behind the scheme is to develop centers of foundation supply of excellent animals. 79 With the advancement of factory farming, there has been an expanding awareness of the problems amongst the bigger public, not least as a result of the initiatives of animal legal rights as well as welfare campaigners. Research Laboratory Pet Handbooks 7. T. McSheehy, ed. London: Research Laboratory Animals Ltd Breed Animal Farm guide and hack gems Animals fulfill a number of duties on your ranch. 2 focus on using normally adapted animals and also native plants: the College check over here of Western Australia Future Farm in Pingelly, which has Mediterranean biome conditions and also where water preservation is important, and the Thiruvazhamkunnu Animals Research Study Station in Kerala, India, which has moist exotic problems and where grazing is purely restricted. Breed Animal Farm hack 2018 Prepare to discover an enchanting 3D world in the sky filled with adorable pets and also abundant farmland! The cattle are listed as important" with The Animals Conservancy, meaning less than 200 pets are signed up in the USA each year. If they can hunt or catch a few animals, they utilized to eliminate some to meetup their food needs and also maintain the rest inside their house for the purposes of utilizing the pets in the future. This Fda (FDA) accepted training course will certainly cover employee training, health, and also wellness; dirt modifications; wild animals, tamed animals, as well as land use; agricultural water; post-harvest handling and sanitation; and developing a farm food safety strategy. Bear in mind: they are fluffy as well as adorable, however you are breeding them for food.

|St. Augustine’s Catholic Church is well known for its Friday fish fries during Lent. The fish is good – you can choose baked cod, fried cod (above), whiting or buffalo – and some of the sides are excellent. Try the cheese grits, which sub pimento cheese for cheddar. Photos by Robin Garr.| LEO’s Eat ‘n’ Blog with Louisville HotBytes (St. Augustine’s fish fry, Stan’s Fish Sandwich, KFC Fish Snacker) It’s Lent again, the liturgical season when many people undertake modest symbolic sacrifices such as eating fish on Fridays. Crunchy, golden-brown, delicious, sizzling fried fish: You call that penance? In Louisville, we don’t reserve fish for Lent. Most of us are crazy for seafood at any time of year, and that’s been so for generations, way back to the postwar era – post-Civil War, that is – when L&N express trains would rush fresh oysters on ice up from the Gulf to oyster bars like the still-extant Mazzoni’s. What’s not to like? Fish is healthy food, high in protein and relatively low in calories. Even fatty fish like tuna and salmon are rich in the omega-3 fatty acids that – like red wine – seem to be beneficial to heart health. So it didn’t take much encouragement for LEO’s Eat ‘N’ Blog to celebrate the season by checking out a few fish fries. We’ve dined at one of the Metro’s most popular Catholic parish Friday fish fries and soul-food fests, St. Augustine’s in the West End; enjoyed fried cod on rye at Stan’s Fish Sandwich, a top spot for first-rate fried fish; and pardon-the-expression bottom-fed at Kentucky Fried Fish, er, Chicken, sampling the Colonel’s latest innovation: the fried fish Snacker, 99 cents cheap. Fish on Friday at St. Augustine On Ash Wednesday and for lunch on Fridays in Lent (through March 30 this year), St. Augustine Catholic Church probably lures more Louisvillians to the West End than any institution since Philip Morris closed the cigarette factory. Festivities begin at 11 a.m. Fridays, and knowing that by noon the lines extend out the doors and all the way down to the street, we arrived on the stroke of 11 and found a line already forming, but not a horribly long one. As it turned out, early arrival is prudent, because the process is administered in a joyously disorganized fashion that can make for a long lunch hour. Pick up an order sheet and find the end of a long line that snakes around the tables; fill in your order and wait. And wait and wait and wait. Eventually you’ll work your way to the front of the line to pay, where one person handles all the money. No credit cards, no cash register, just a cigar-box-style till. She’ll check your order, carefully recording your main course, sides, bread, dessert, and painstakingly adding it up. (You’d think they’d use a calculator.) When you’re finally turned loose, order stamped “PAID,” you move on to another line. One window for take-out, another for eat-in. Bear in mind that this, like most parish fish fries, is run by volunteers who only do this a few Fridays per year, so be patient: The food is worth the wait. Eventually you’ll receive your lunch in a Styrofoam box. Get your napkins and plastic fork, and then find a place in the community seating at long folding tables. It took us a little over an hour to get from the front door through the lines to sit down and eat, and there couldn’t have been more than about 20 people in front of us when we came in. I don’t even want to think about what it was like at noon, but if you have only an hour for lunch and a strict boss, you might want to save St. Augustine for the next time you have a Friday off during Lent. The fish was pretty good. Some of the side orders were great. You can choose among fried cod, catfish, whiting or buffalo (the fish, not the bison) or baked cod, for $8 for dinner including two sides, or $5 for a sandwich, with sides a la carte for $1.75 each. Side-dish choices are baked beans, fried potatoes and onions, green beans, cheese grits, mac ‘n’ cheese, mixed greens, potato salad or a boiled egg (25 cents extra). Choose rye, wheat or white bread, or corn bread. You can get blackberry cobbler, lemon pie, sweet potato pie, caramel cake or bread pudding with bourbon sauce for $2, and a Coke or iced tea (sweet only, of course) for 85 cents. The cod was sweet and flavorful, with a crisp, well-seasoned breading, but it came broken up in chunks, which made it tough to turn into a sandwich on sliced rye, and wasn’t very hot by the time we got to our table. Green beans came straight from the can. My wife ordered whiting and corn bread, but they were out of both, so she ended up with cod on rye, too. Her cooked greens were well-made in the long-simmered country style, and seemed to have been simmered with fatback, even if it was a Friday in Lent. Cheese grits were amazingly good: Thick, hot and rich, not made with the usual mild cheddar but pimento cheese. What a great idea! A filling lunch (including a piece of moist, rich caramel cake to take home) totaled about $20 for two. A gourmet-style experience it was not, and I probably wouldn’t go more than once a year. But it’s a memorable seasonal experience, and all in all a decent lunch. St. Augustine Fish Fry 1310 W. Broadway (Orders may be faxed to 581-0893 but must arrive before 11 a.m.) Fried fish ‘shootout’ From Clarksville Seafood (a direct descendant of the old Cape Codder that long-time locals knew and loved) to the Kentucky Green River-style fried fish at The Fish House at Barret and Winter and the lovable Hill Street Fish Fry in Old Louisville, our metro area is deliciously over-endowed with fried-fish options. That goes double for St. Matthews, where a fish lover could fashion a delicious if not-too-varied progressive fish dinner in a quick hike between Seafood Connection, Carolina Shrimp & Seafood, The Fishery and Stan’s Fish Sandwich. Not to mention Long John Silver’s, if you insist on the corporate option; and now even Kentucky Fried Fish, er, Chicken has gotten into the act, with the fried-fish “Snacker,” a new product out just in time for Lent. Seeking to pin down the culinary extremes of the genre, I recently sampled the fried cod at Stan’s, and also treated myself to a couple of KFC Snackers from the St. Matthews branch. |Marketing genius or sacrilege? KFC’s new “Snacker” isn’t awful.| Frankly, the KFC fish sandwich wasn’t awful, although Col. Harland Sanders may be spinning in his grave at the very idea. You can buy ’em by the sack in a combo with two Snackers, an order of fried potato wedges and a drink, or have a single Snacker a la carte for $1.05 including tax. A cottony, rectangular white bun about the size of a playing card is assembled with a block of breaded-and-fried fish cut square to fit the bun, glued down with a thin coat of bland tartar sauce. I tried it twice and batted .500: One sandwich was pretty good, freshly fried, crisply golden-brown and sizzling hot. The other came out at room temperature, dry and chewy and lacking flavor, suggesting that anything fried is best fresh from the fryer. Stan’s namesake fish sandwich comes on a multigrain hero roll unless you request an alternative; I always ask for rye bread, the natural base for fried fish. It’s an oversize, fresh boneless fillet of cod, sweet and flaky and fresh, steaming snow-white fish cloaked in a crunchy golden-brown breading. You can apply your own homemade cocktail sauce, thick tartar sauce or Old Bay seasoning at the table. The Stan’s fish sandwich was yummy. The KFC fish was … OK. The Stan’s cost $5.25. The KFC cost 99 cents. I’m still trying to figure out how to process this information. It would be easy if the KFC fish was just plain horrible, but I can’t honestly say that. I’d eat three in a pinch. But Stan’s was much better. At $5.25, it’s five times as pricey as a KFC Snacker. But Stan’s is three times as big and twice as good, so the numbers work. See you at Stan’s! Stan’s Fish Sandwich 3723 Lexington Road

This is a lovely clump forming deciduous spurge with red stems and lovely orangey red blooms all summer through to Autumn. Be very careful when cleaning up and tidying around this perennial as it exudes a milky sap when foliage or stems get broken or crushed – some people can be allergic to the sap. As it tends to move around the garden it should really be split and divided on a regular basis. This is one of those hardy plants which wont normally survive the winter if kept outside in pots though! Will grow in any moist well drained soil, full sun to part shade! Astilbe Delft Lace – I came across this gorgeous Astilbe in a garden centre last year, and thankfully it survived our awful winter, even though it was not a large plant when put in the ground in Autumn! It has the most beautiful lacy foliage and red stems, with long blooming pink flowers. It’s been going for a couple of months now at least, and the foliage has turned a lot darker due to it being in full sun – another bonus – rabbit and deer resistant! Like most Astilbes it prefers a moist soil and full sun to flower profusely!

By now, you’ve probably decided upon your Thanksgiving menu (turkey, anyone?) and are Googling like crazy, or if you are old-fashioned, leafing through your favorite cookbooks, in pursuit of that one elusive, last-minute dish that will break with tradition. I am, per usual, behind. I am going to decide on the final details when I pick up my turkey on Wednesday. In the meantime, I’m planning for remorse. Because, no matter how good my intentions, I know I will be feeling it on Friday morning as I stare down the surviving slices of pumpkin pie on the kitchen counter. Before a sip of coffee crosses my lips, I know I will debate whether or not to get it over with and eat that pie for breakfast. What the hell. We all know that Friday will be a junior version of Thursday, with re-warmed mashed potatoes and gravy, or turkey sandwiches slathered in cranberry sauce and topped with stuffing, yes-siree. Never mind. By Saturday, I’ll be more or less back on track, making stock and soup and eating turkey sandwiches for a few more days on razor thin slices of the Polish rye bread I am going to tell you about in a minute. Razor thin slices of bread seem downright virtuous after prior dietary indiscretions. I had two prompts that propelled me into bread-baking mode before I even started thinking about a Thanksgiving menu. One was a conversation a few weeks ago with an acquaintance, who happens to be Polish, about the bread of that country: loaves full of grainy, seedy, earthy, healthy goodness; loaves with dense and moist interiors and crisp, noble crusts that inspire sighs and longing; loaves that I have never been able to find here. My friend promised a recipe. She returned the very next day with some fresh yeast and a piece of paper in hand. Her daughter elaborated on the finer points—back and forth from Polish to English—and the pair of them gave me the address of a website to consult—written in Polish, but available in English with a tap on the Google translation button. These instructions were, well, sketchy. Difficult to decipher. In order to make it easy on myself (and on you, should you be tempted to try this) I put the instructions aside and plunged in, relying on the Jim Lahey method of baking bread, also made popular by Jeff Hertzberg and Zoe Francois in Artisan Bread in Five Minutes a Day. I have been baking versions of this bread on a weekly basis for a couple of years now. First, it’s dead easy and fabulous, and second, it costs, at the most, a dollar a loaf. I more or less freaked out the other day when I saw that the price of my favorite rye bread had reached five, count ‘em, five dollars! (and that’s without the seeds, my friends). The coveted harvest bread I love? Seven dollars. I can only imagine what my mother would say if I told her the sandwich she was eating was made on a slice from a seven dollar loaf. There are a lot of things that could make this bread recipe complicated if your mind works that way, but don’t let it. It’s nice to have some of the equipment I mention, but if you don’t, all you really need to make this bread is a bowl, a wooden spoon, and a baking sheet. Make the dough the night before (5 minutes). The next morning, shape it (5 minutes), let it rise (1 to 1 1/2 hours), and bake it (40 minutes). We’re talking about 10 minutes hands-on time, people. Just do it! Polish rye bread Makes 1 large loaf (about 1 3/4 pounds) 150 g rye flour (1 1/4 cups) 150 g whole wheat flour (1 1/4 cups) 175 g bread or all-purpose flour (1 1/3 cups) 1/2 teaspoon instant yeast 2 tablespoons caraway seeds 2 tablespoons flax seeds 2 tablespoons pumpkin seeds 2 tablespoons sesame seeds 1 1/2 teaspoons salt 1 1/3 cups water A little olive oil Flour (any kind) for the countertop 1. Have on hand a 12-inch long, oval cast-iron pot, a 5-quart round cast-iron pot, a cast-iron skillet, or a baking sheet. (Listed in order of preference) 2. In a large bowl, or the bowl of a stand mixer with the paddle attachment, stir the rye flour, whole wheat flour, white flour, instant yeast, caraway seeds, flax seeds, pumpkin seeds, sesame seeds, and salt together until combined. 3. Add the water and stir with a wooden spoon or the paddle attachment until the dough is well mixed. Scrape down the sides of the bowl and push the dough together to form a ball, more or less, don’t obsess. The dough will be sticky. Drizzle a little olive oil on top of the dough and pat it around with your fingers to cover the surface of the dough. Place a piece of plastic wrap directly over the surface and leave overnight, or for 8 to 12 hours. 4. Generously flour the countertop. With a dough scraper or rubber spatula, scrape the dough onto the countertop in one lump and shape it. For an oblong loaf, push it into an oval shape approximately 9-by-4 inches in size. Flour your hands and the dough. With the long side of the oval parallel to the edge of the counter, roll the dough into a cylinder. Pinch the seam with your fingertips. For a round loaf, pick up the dough with both hands and stretch the surface of the dough in a downward direction and tuck it under itself to form a ball with a smooth top. Place it on the floured countertop, and cupping your hands around it, turn it in a circle until it is evenly round. 5. Spread a dishtowel (not a terry towel) over a baking sheet or cutting board (so that you can move the loaf around if you need to without disturbing it.) Sprinkle a generous amount of flour on the towel. Place the shaped loaf on the towel and coat it with more flour. Fold the sides and ends of the towel lightly and loosely over the dough. Let rise for 1 to 1 1/2 hours, or until the dough has doubled in size. (If the room is cool, let rise for a longer period.) 6. About 1/2 hour before you are ready to bake the bread, adjust an oven rack to the bottom position. If you have a baking stone, set it on the rack. Place the baking pot of choice with its cover on the rack and heat the oven to 450 degrees. 7. When the dough has risen, use a serrated knife or razor blade to make 3 evenly spaced slashes about 1/2 inch deep. 8. Remove the hot pot or pan from the oven, set it on a potholder, and carefully transfer the dough into it. Clap on the cover. Bake for 30 minutes. Remove the cover and bake for 10 minutes longer. 9. Remove the pot from the oven and transfer the bread to a wire rack to cool. Don’t even think about slicing it until it is cool! If you have a kitchen scale, weigh the ingredients, because flour absorbs liquid and also becomes compacted in the canister or bag, so weight measurements will be more accurate than cup measurements. If you are measuring instead of weighing, use the fluff and scoop method: fluff the flour in the canister, scoop it into the measuring cup (the metal kind with a handle, not the Pyrex type with a spout) and level it off with your finger or a knife. Use the exact size dry measuring cup, don’t toss it in a cup with a spout and then shake it to level it (that will compact the flour.), You can buy instant yeast in small packets, but if you get into the game, buy it in larger quantities. I like the RAF brand of instant yeast (available at Whole Foods). Regular granulated dry yeast in packets (such as Fleischmanns) must be dissolved and activated in warm water. New, improved, “instant” or “rapid rise” yeast (also in little packets) is actually made from a slightly different strain of yeast and does not need to be dissolved in water, but can be added directly to the dry ingredients, thus eliminating one step. Other than ease of use, there is little to differentiate these two types of granulated yeast. Yeast packets contain slightly less than a tablespoon. Yeast is perishable; so check the expiration date on the package to ensure good results. Using a pot with a cover has a couple of advantages. A covered pot traps steam from the wet dough inside the pot, which contributes to “ovenspring,” the rapid gas expansion that occurs in the first five to ten minutes of baking, because the steam adds even more heat. Steam also condenses on the crust, and that water slows the drying of the outside of the loaf, helping it expand even more while it slowly forms a thicker, shinier crust. CAVEAT: if the lid of your pot (Le Creuset, for example) is not heat tolerant up to 450 degrees, cover the pot with a baking sheet instead. If you don’t have a pot, second best would be a cast iron skillet, and third best, a baking sheet sprinkled with a little flour or cornmeal. Mix all ingredients in a bowl just until blended. Place a piece of plastic directly on top of dough and let rise overnight The dough will double (at least) in size Scrape the dough onto the floured countertop. It will be sticky. Shape the dough into an oval, and roll it tightly. Pinch the seam firmly and turn the dough over so that the seam is on the bottom. Spread a dishtowel on a baking sheet and coat it generously with flour. Cover the dough with more flour. Loosely cover the dough with the towel and let rise for 1 to 1 1/2 hours. Uncover the dough and use a serrated knife to make 3 evenly-spaced slashes on top. Carefully transfer the dough into the hot pot (or skillet or baking sheet.) Bake, and prepare to be wowed. Lessons over. Now go make bread. And happy, happy Thanksgiving. May your blessings multiply as you contemplate them on Thanksgiving. Find more recipes you might like for Thanksgiving from this blog: But wait, there's more (The Garum Factory) (Fresh New England)

CWA members are employed in environments, both inside and outside, which may involve exposure to cold and hot temperatures. This fact sheet will focus upon working conditions and related health effects encountered among workers who perform their work outdoors. Working in cold or hot temperatures may lead to an increase in accidents, illnesses, job stress, job dissatisfaction, and a decrease in productivity. To ensure that CWA members are employed in safe and healthful workplaces, the reduction and control of temperature extremes should be of primary concern to employers with which the Union has a collective bargaining relationship. CWA members employed as cable splicers, installers, service and outside plant technicians, traffic agents, broadcasting workers, and other jobs involving outside work are routinely exposed and likely to suffer potentially hazardous exposures to cold and hot temperatures. Working in Cold, Outside Environments Because humans are warm-blooded, the body maintains a fairly constant temperature. The human body burns fuel and manufactures heat to keep temperatures within safe limits. Exposure to cold temperatures may cause the body's internal temperatures to fall below safe limits. This occurs when the body loses heat faster than it can produce it. The body's heat loss will also be affected by such factors as the temperature, the amount of moisture in the air (humidity), the amount of wind, and the type of clothing that is worn. As the body loses heat, blood vessels in the skin constrict to conserve internal heat. Thus, in cold environments, a worker's hands and feet are affected first. Cold and numb hands and feet are the first signs that the body is reacting to conserve heat. If the body continues to lose heat, involuntary shivers may occur. Involuntary shivers are both the body's way of attempting to produce heat and the first warning of hypothermia, or decreased body temperature. Additional heat loss may cause the brain to become less efficient, produce speech difficulty, forgetfulness, disorientation, loss of manual dexterity, collapse, and, possibly, death. Controlling the Hazard The preferred method of protecting workers from cold environments is through the implementation of engineering controls such as enclosures and adequate heating systems. However, for many CWA members exposed to extremely cold outside temperatures, engineering controls may not be either feasible or practical. Under these conditions, employers must provide proper personal protective equipment. Properly fitted, multi-layered clothing with an outer shell of windproof material is recommended. Clothing should be made of low-density resilient materials such as quilted fibers, pile, or loosely woven wool or synthetics. Such clothing will allow perspiration to evaporate, while keeping the body warm. If one’s clothing becomes wet, it should be changed. Wet clothing will cause the body to lose heat quickly, because evaporating water takes up a lot of heat. Frequent rest breaks are also important. In cold, winter conditions, a warm shed or vehicle/van should be available so that workers can warm up and allow their body temperatures to recover from the cold. Workers exposed to cold environments may notice their skin beginning to sting or tingle. If this occurs, the skin should be rubbed to stimulate circulation. However, in cases where the body becomes numb, the skin should not be rubbed. Rather the affected body parts should be immersed in warm water or warmed by other suitable means. If a CWA member is stranded in a vehicle during a storm, she/he should stay in the vehicle. The engine will furnish heat, while the vehicle acts as a shelter from outside elements. Particular caution should be taken to prevent buildup of carbon monoxide from the engine. The motor should be run sparingly, and for adequate ventilation, the downwind window opened. To stimulate circulation, arms and legs should be moved vigorously. For additional warmth, in an extreme emergency insulation from the vehicle's seats may be taken and stuffed in one's clothing. Employers should ensure that vehicles are well maintained, in proper working condition, and are well stocked with emergency supplies. Working in Hot Outside Environments Just as cold temperatures can adversely affect the body, so can work in hot environments. To keep internal temperatures within safe limits, the body must get rid of excess heat when the air temperature is high and/or the physical workload is very heavy. This is achieved primarily through the varying rate and depth of blood circulation and the evaporation of sweat from the skin. As the heart begins to pump more blood, blood vessels expand to accommodate the increased flow, the blood circulates to the surface of the skin, and excess heat is lost into the cooler atmosphere. (The evaporation of sweat is the most important way to lose body heat). As air temperatures approach normal skin temperature, the body has a harder time cooling itself. Periods of high humidity make the problem worse. Under these conditions, hard physical work becomes more difficult to perform. In turn, work in such an environment may lead to an increase in worker accidents, illnesses, and fatalities, as well as a decrease in the affected worker’s health, efficiency, and performance capacities. Within limits, one's body will normally and naturally become more adjusted to the hot work environment. This adjustment, or acclimatization, develops after about a week of work under the hot conditions. Once adapted, the amount of strain upon the body is reduced. A worker who has become acclimatized will have a lower heart rate, lower body temperature, higher sweat rate, and, therefore, have more stamina for work in hot environments. The direct effects of work in hot environments may result in heat stress and several illnesses ranging from heat rash to heat stroke. Heat stress is the sum of environmental and physical work factors that equal the total heat load placed on the body. These factors include the source of heat, the level of work, the acclimatization of the worker, and atmospheric conditions (humidity, wind, and air temperature). Heat-related disorders or illnesses that may be caused by work in hot environments include heat rash, heat cramps, heat exhaustion, and heat stroke. Heat rash, commonly referred to as "prickly heat," may develop when one's sweat is not easily removed from the skin's surface by evaporation. Sweat ducts become blocked and sweat glands inflamed, resulting in a skin rash. Heat rash, an extremely uncomfortable condition, can be prevented by taking periodic breaks and through proper personal hygiene. Heat cramps are painful, intermittent muscle spasms that occur during or following hard physical work under hot conditions. The muscle spasms are the result of an excessive loss of salt in sweat without adequate fluid replacement. Spasms may develop even though there may be adequate water replacement. Those muscles used in performing the work are usually affected. Heat cramps may occur during or after work. An effective method of prevention is drinking salted liquids or eating salted food. Workers with heart problems or on a low sodium diet should notify their employer or supervisor of their medical condition. In addition, employees with such medical conditions should consult a physician. Heat exhaustion is caused by the loss of body fluids through sweating, the loss of salt, or both. This condition is characterized by profuse sweating, giddiness, weakness or fatigue, headaches, nausea, rapid weak pulse, fainting, and, in more serious cases, by vomiting and loss of consciousness. Workers suffering from heat exhaustion will have cool, moist skin and a pale, flushed complexion with a normal or slightly higher than normal temperature. A person suffering heat exhaustion should rest in a cool location and drink plenty of liquids. Mild cases may result in spontaneous recovery with such treatment. Severe cases may require medical care for several days. Workers with heart problems or on a low sodium diet should inform their employer or supervisor of their medical condition. Also, such employees should consult a physician before working in hot environments. Heat stroke is the most serious illness associated with work in hot environments. Heat stroke occurs when the body's heat regulation mechanisms break down. The characteristics of heat stroke are a high body temperature (105 degrees Fahrenheit (F) or more), little or no sweating, and hot, dry, flushed skin. In addition, workers suffering heat stroke may become delirious, confused, convulsive, or comatose. Heat stroke can often be fatal. If it is felt that a worker is suffering from heat stroke, immediate medical treatment is necessary. Immediate steps should be taken to lower the victim's body temperature. This can be done by moving the individual to a cool area, soaking the worker's clothes with water, and fanning the body. If possible, the individual should be put into or immersed in ice and wrapped in cold, wet sheets. Following treatment at the workplace, the victim should be taken to a hospital or similar medical facility. Since severe heat stroke may result in brain damage, early recognition and treatment are essential. Controlling the Hazard For outdoor work, administrative controls are the best methods of protection. Because heat stress is dependent upon the amount of heat the body produces while performing a job, reducing the amount of physical work required or the length or duration of work time will reduce the potential for heat stress. Provision of periodic rest breaks is a must. Rest breaks will allow the body time to rid itself of excess heat, reduce the production of internal body heat, and provide greater blood circulation to the skin. Employers should evenly distribute the work throughout the shift by breaking up long periods of work into shorter work-rest cycles. Where possible, the most strenuous work should be performed during the work-rest cycles. Use of administrative work practices are especially important during conditions of extreme heat and high humidity. Administrative controls should be supplemented with appropriate clothing. In strong sunlight, loose clothing shading the skin, but allowing air circulation should be provided. In low humidity and strong sunlight, less clothing is needed, but care should be taken to prevent sunburn. Employees should also be provided with adequate supplies of liquids to replace lost body fluids. Replacement fluids should be about 50 degrees F, or cool enough to be acceptable to workers' tastes. Consumption of alcoholic beverages is not advised since alcohol may cause additional dehydration. CWA members who work in environments in which temperature extremes occur should be provided employer-sponsored training regarding the previously mentioned safety and health concerns. Educational sessions and materials should deal with the various degrees of heat stress, adaptation to hot environments, and control techniques. At the present time, there is no OSHA standard for temperature extremes. However, OSHA has developed comprehensive guidelines and materials including a Heat Stress APP. The guidelines and APP are available by going to OSHA’s webpage, www.osha.gov. In addition, the National Institute for Occupational Safety and Health (NIOSH) has developed recommended practices for work in cold and hot environments. For more information, interested members might refer to: Criteria for a Recommended Standard: Occupational Exposure to Hot Environments , (NIOSH); and The Industrial Environment: Its Evaluation and Control , (NIOSH); "Control of Exposures to Heat and Cold," Harwood Belding, Ph.D., and "Physiology of Heat Stress," David Minard, Ph.D., M.D. These materials may be obtained by contacting: NIOSH, Robert Taft Laboratories, 4676 Columbia Parkway, Cincinnati, Ohio 45226, E-mail www.cdc.gov/niosh, or Phone: 800-356-4674. What Can You Do? All CWA members should make sure that their employer is maintaining a safe and healthful workplace. The key to making the workplace safe for all CWA members is strong, active local safety and health committees. The committee can identify dangerous conditions at the workplace and discuss them with management. If the employer refuses to cooperate, the committee can request an OSHA inspection. The committee should always coordinate its activities through the local officers, the CWA Representatives, and negotiated safety and health committees. In addition, CWA members may obtain information and assistance by contacting the: CWA Occupational Safety and Health Department 501 Third Street, NW Washington, D.C. 20001-2797 Phone: (202) 434-1160. Developed in 1981 and revised in 1983, 1991, 1994, 1996, 2000, 2004, 2009, 2013, and 2017.

My sisters: Jill is 24, tall, slender, brunette, dark brown eyes, wears her hair very long and straight; she’s got beautiful mid-sized but pointed tits and large puffy nipples. She has a tattoo on the small of her back and one around her navel. She may not be hot in a ‘centerfold’ sense, but all of my friends think she’s the hottest girl in town. They’re probably right. She’s smart, in college, and has a very serious relationship going with another student. Jenna is 18, short dirty blonde hair, blue eyes, short and petite, with small, rounded titties and an absolutely perfect ass. She’s a real tight package and a real troublemaker who loves to party. How do I know all this about my sisters’ physical attributes? Read on… Last spring, my sister Jill came back home during her school’s spring break. She had shared a bedroom with Jenna and had simply moved back in for the month. All 3 of us partied together alot those first few days; I had just turned 21 and could now drink legally in the bars with my big sister. We would get together with a bunch of friends and go barhopping until the wee hours. Unfortunately Jen wasn’t old enough to go out on the town with us yet. We used to come home after closing the last club just before dawn and I would immediately crash. Jill was in college and had a few more years of heavy duty drinking on me; I tried to keep up with her but usually failed miserably. One morning after one of these long nights of drinking, I awoke with the strangest feeling…I tried to think back to the details of the night before for something that could explain it. My memories of the last few hours of those types of nights was non-existent; I would have what Jill called ‘black outs’ where I just couldn’t remember the last hour or so before passing out the night before. She told me it was a symptom of over-doing it and that I should watch it. At least I wasn’t driving, I’d say, and we’d leave it at that. Anyway, this was a little strange. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. It seemed that my cock was a little sore; did I get laid last night? I’d have to wait until I saw Jill later on; If anything like that happened she’d be sure to tell me. And I’d be pissed that I couldn’t remember it!! More likely, I’d jerked off before passing out. I saw Jill just after lunch that day. I asked her if she had a good time the night before; fishing for information. She looked at me as if puzzled; then said ‘Oh, blackout again, eh? Well don’t worry, you didn’t embarass yourself or me or anything. Your big sister took good care of you and when we got home you were out like a light. You really ought to slow down, though, Andy. You worry me with these blackouts. Sometimes I think an atom bomb couldn’t wake you when you’re sleeping like that.’ I guess I didn’t get laid, I thought. Must have just beat my meat. Oh well. The next big night out was a house party a few streets down. Jenna was there and yes, she was causing trouble; the kind of trouble that a really hot young girl can cause at a party full of horny guys. Girfriends were pissed at her, pissed at their boyfriends; guys were fighting over who might take her home. Nobody did. Jenna got a charge out of this kind of scene, but she wasn’t easy. Jill was getting hit on as well, as was I, but we weren’t there to hook up, just for the social thing, catching up with friends and such. That night, during my deep sleep, I dreamed of sex. A blow job, to be specific. When I woke up sure enough, I had that strange feeling again; and the pee-hole at the front of my boxers was sticky with drying jizz… I strained to remember and yes, I remembered having a sex dream, but…well, I had never had a wet dream before…Maybe I jacked off in my sleep. This was starting to severely bug me. That weekend, I didn’t go out with Jill or Jenna; instead I went out with the guys. We went to a local strip club where the beers cost 2x as much as anywhere else, so I hardly drank at all. I got home super late, though, and went straight to bed. I had just drifted off to sleep when something woke me. I opened my eyes to my darkened room and saw what I thought was one of my sisters standing in the doorway, silhouetted by the light in the hall. Just before I opened my mouth to ask what was up, she took a step forward. Then she stopped again. She seemed to be trying hard not to wake me. This was just weird enough for me to let it go and see what she was up to. She reached the edge of my bed and ever so slowly sat down on it. At this point I could see that it was my big sister Jill. She was watching my face intently but she obviously couldn’t tell in the dark that I had one eye open just a tiny bit. I could barely make out that she was wearing nothing but a nightshirt and panties. What the heck was she up to? She reached up to the top of my blanket and slowly, noiselessly, pulled it down at the corner to expose most of my body, clad only in boxers. I was being careful not to change my breathing one bit; I had to let her think I was sleeping so I could see where this was going. My sister then reached straight for my crotch with both hands and delicately unsnapped the button in front. Then, my entire world was rocked: Jill reached inside my boxers and gently pulled out my flaccid penis. Not reacting to this was perhaps the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life. At first I was embarassed that my sister might see my cock; then she was holding my cock in her hand! Suddenly I knew: this was the source of my morning mystery. Jill was coming into my room at night and playing with my prick while I slept! She must have thought I was blacked out tonight as well! Before I could think any further, she lowered her head to my groin and popped my soft dick into her warm, moist mouth. Dear God in Heaven!! I thought about putting a stop to this, but just as quickly, that wonderful ‘blowjob’ feeling overwhelmed me. To my partial embarasssment, my cock started stiffening in her mouth, but I could see that this is exactly what she wanted. As her head gently bobbed up and down, swallowing a good portion of my 8 inch dick, she kept looking up at me for any signs of my waking. Jill gave me head gently, quietly, lovingly; my head spun as I tried to understand just what all of this meant. She slathered her hot saliva all over my big dick and pulled her head off for a moment while softly stroking it with her hand. She looked up at me to be extra sure and then leaned back over to continue her slow-motion sucking. To my amazement, I saw Jill reach under her nightshirt with one hand and begin to fondle her boobs as she moved her lips over my now fully-erect cock. She pulled and pinched on the puffy nipples that had begun to poke against the inside of her nightshirt. Her sucking became a little more urgent then. Watching my sister play with her tits was too much; soon I felt the cum rising to my cock. But she didn’t stop. Quickly I thought, well, I never woke up before, so I better not ‘wake up’ now! My hips were moving involuntarily; Jill didn’t stop so this must have been normal. When I saw Jill’s hand quickly move to the front of her panties and rub her crotch I couldn’t stand it anymore. I came into my sister’s mouth, trying not to thrust too hard. I made a little noise, hoping it was ok, and just kept cumming. I watched Jill swallow almost every drop of cum in 2 or 3 quick gulps without releasing my cock from her mouth; I marvelled as she sucked (and I mean Sucked) the remaining cum from my dick. Cleaning off my cock with her tongue, she took another quick look to see if I was waking and, satisfied that she had gotten away with this again, slowly got up and whispered across the floor and out of my room. My door shut with a click. There I lay for what must have been an hour trying to come to terms with what had just happened. God it was good! But was it OK? Should I have stopped her? I didn’t know what to think. All I knew was that the next day whe I awoke, I would know exactly what had caused that ‘strange feeling’… The next few days at home were strange, to say the least. I acted as if I had no idea what went on during that night and so did Jill, but I found that I was looking at my sister in a whole new way. She had blown me, for god’s sake! I was fully realizing, when our paths would cross around the house, just what a gorgeous babe she really was. I found myself craving another night like the one before…one where perhaps more than just head might take place…but I was confused. If it was OK with her to suck my cock as I slept, would other stuff be okay too? How about while we were both awake? I decided to play it by ear. And to make it happen again, of course…. So the following Thursday evening we went out barhopping. I tried to make it look like I was drinking hard; I wasted alot of beer and money that night, but I hoped it would be worth it. After calling it a night (though it was really early morning), we headed home, Jill at the wheel. Hey, what the hell, I thought, and pretended to pass out in the car. Sure enough, after calling my name 5 or 6 times and after giving me a few not so gentle pokes in the ribs, her hand was at my crotch. She massaged my dick through my jeans with one hand as she steered with the other. I kept my eyes closed for the entire ride, not risking a look. When my dick was completely erect, I felt her fumble with my zipper for a bit but she must have decided we were too close to home and let it alone. I wanted more, however. She had gotten me hard again and I prayed for my sister to blow me again once we got home. She helped me in the house; I put on quite a show by being ‘too drunk’ to get out of the car on my own and ‘too drunk’ to climb the stairs. When we got to the front porch, Jenna met us at the door and helped Jill get me inside. Jill whispered ‘I told you–look at him! He’s trashed! He won’t remember a thing!’ Really pouring it on, I said ‘Hi, Jen!’ far too loudly and headed for the couch. ‘Oh, no, big guy, you’re going to your room. Straight to bed! You had a bit too much tonight; I told you you better watch it!’ She swung her arms around me and led me down the hall and into my room. Jen just stood and stared. I mumbled goodnight to both, pretending a drunken stupor and hoping for Jill to make a move on my prick once we were in my room. But she didn’t. She lay me down onto my bed and I immediately pretended to be out cold. Then Jill clicked off the light and left. That was it. Hmm…Maybe she was waiting for Jenna to go to sleep? Maybe she wasn’t falling for my act. To tell you the truth, I was a little drunk (I had to drink some that night; Jill’s no dope) and after listening for her return I fell asleep. And was re-awakened soon after… My room was dark. My jeans were being removed; then my boxers. I lay there, completely exposed, before…who? Was that 3 hands I felt? Clad in only my shirt, I waited for my sister’s mouth on my cock. But instead, I heard her speak: ‘Just sit down! Don’t worry; he’s out, trust me.’ Another person was in the room, too; I heard Jenna’s voice but I couldn’t hear what she said as she whipered. Jill continued. ‘Be quiet and watch, I’ll show you.’ Then, finally, I felt Jill’s hand on my dick. She stroked my balls with the other hand and soon she massaged me into a full 10 inch erection. I heard Jenna say ‘Move over a little, I can’t see it!’ I felt Jill move on the bed as she continued stroking my shaft. My eyes were adjusting to the light from the hallway and I could see Jenna sitting in the chair near my bedroom window, wearing a grey cotton pajama set consisting of shorts and a top. She wasn’t wearing that when she met us at the door…Jill wore a white nightshirt that ended just above the knees. Jenna was staring at my cock. ‘Wow…I’ve seen a few, but not like that…’ ‘Like what?’ Jill whispered. ‘So…big…You really put your mouth on it and he doesn’t wake up?’ ‘Yeah! Watch this…’ And with that, my sister proceeded to give me the second greatest blow job of my life. She took care not to block Jenna’s view of the action; pulling her hair out of the way if it fell into her line of sight. Jenna watched, amazed, as her big sister slurped and sucked their brother’s cock. ‘Do you think he can feel it?’ She asked. Jill slid her head up and off my dick. ‘Oh, yeah–he moves around and moans a lot, especially before he comes. Sometimes he even opens his eyes. But he never wakes up. And he never remembers anything about it ’cause he ‘blacks out’ when he’s this drunk!’ ‘What do you do with his…cum?’ Jill just looked over at her with a look like ‘what do you think?’ and continued to suck. “Have you ever fucked him?’ Jenna abruptly asked. Jill shot her a look as my dick popped out of her mouth. ‘No way! That would be cheating on Mark!’ ‘And this isn’t?’ ‘SHSHSH!! No! It’s just oral sex! And besides, it’s not like this is another guy; he’s my brother! And he doesn’t even know. C’mon! Be quiet and let me finish. I told you you could watch only if you were quiet.’ Jenna’s questions stopped. Jill concentrated on my member, blowing me just like the night before. My sister’s warm mouth felt phenominal. I started moaning and writhing; Jill didn’t stop and Jenna leaned in for a closer look. She leaned forward in the chair with one hand pushed into her crotch. ‘Ohhh, yeah, he likes it,’ Jenna whispered. “Suck it, Jill. Yeah, suck Andy’s cock.’ The hand in Jenna’s lap started to move. She began masturbating her 18 year old pussy through her pjs. ‘Suck that big dick.’ Jenna’s hot talk seemed to heat things up for both of us. Jill sucked me harder and deeper and I felt the jizz rising. Peeking out from under one eyelid, I watched as Jenna pulled the crotch of her pajama shorts over to one side, exposing her cunt. The hall light shone through my open door and spilled over the chair she sat squirming in, illuminating her pretty pink pussy. I didn’t get much of a look, though, as her other hand started quickly rubbing the exposed mound of her cunt. ‘Suck his big hard dick Jill. Suck it for me.’ An animal look crossed her face as she played with herself and watched Jill inhale my long, fat prick…I caught sight of Jenna sliding a finger into her pussy and finger fucking herrself…This was just too much for me. The cum was ready to blow and Jill knew it would gush any second. She let out a series of moans as my hips fucked her face, ‘mmm, Mmm, MMM!’ and I let flow another throatful of thick, hot cum. Jenna watched, writhing in the chair, her hand slapping at her wet mound as Jill swallowed all of my load hungrily. I spied Jen biting her lip and shaking to orgasm, grinding her finger into her puss. I let out a loud “Ohhh!” and they both froze momentarily; but I just smiled and rolled over. I couldn’t see either one any more, but I heard Jill say ‘See? That’s the fourth time I’ve sucked him off and he has no idea! It’s great! I can get off while I’m here and it’s like…no harm done!’ Jen lay back in the chair, panting. Jill looked down at her baby sister’s still-exposed cunt. ‘Wow. You really get off on that…’ Jill said, as Jen slowly straightened her pj’s. ‘No, I sometimes play with myself while I do it; sometimes after when I’m in my room.’ Jill replied as she slowly got up off the bed. ‘What would be OK?’ Jillian asked, truly surprised. She watched mesmerized as her little sister opened her top and exposed her pretty pert boobies. ‘I’m so fucking hirny, Jilly. I bet you are, too. Let me get you off. It’ll be OK. You won’t be cheating, right?’ Standing directly in front of Jill now, Jenna took her big sister’s hands and brought them up to her tits. Jill offered no resistance. Jenna moved even closer and whispered in Jill’s ear. I could hear every word of their exchange. My dick was already hard again. Had I died and gone to heaven? ‘Let me eat your pussy’, she breathed into Jill’s ear. Jill let out a breathy sigh as she felt Jenna’s breasts. Jen put her hands on Jill’s ass and started kneading her cheeks, reaching around and under and feeling through her panties for her now-wet vagina. Jill never answered, never gave permission, but it was clear she wanted Jen to lick her. Jen led her big sis the few steps over to the chair and slowly slipped her panties down from under her night shirt, feeling Jill’s long slender legs all the way down. Jill started a sentence; ‘Jen…’, but she never finished. They were totally oblivious to me at this point; I watched their every move. Jenna sat Jill down at the edge of the chair and spread her ankles, one over each arm of the plush chair. Jill’s beautiful pussy was fully exposed to me. It was the most perfect pussy I’d ever seen: Neat and closely trimmed patch of soft brown hair, mostly-exposed fleshy pink lips, pouting partly open, slightly glistening with her moist lube. Then Jenna’s head obscured my view as she began licking Jill’s gash up and down in long strokes. Jill threw her head back in ecstacy as her little sister licked, sucked and kissed her vagina. Soon she was panting; I think Jen inserted a finger; maybe two, but I couldn’t tell. Jill removed her nightshirt in one amazing move, it was over head and on the floor in a split second. And there they were, Jill’s beautiful tits. Not ‘big’, but long…they stood straight out from her body for what seemed like a foot and their ends were capped with big puffy pink nippples. She was squeezing and pinching them as Jenna ate her pussy; she tried to speak again and failed. ‘Jen…Ohhhhh, ohhhhh, Jen….’ I was wishing I could see some of the detail work that was going on over in my chair, but counted myself lucky and reminded myself that the view from over here was just fine. Jenna and her perfect ass with her short-short pajama bottoms riding up her crack; on her knees in front of Jill’s long lovely legs spread wide; Jill pulling on those fantastic naked tits I’d marvelled at since I was a kid. My two gorgeous siblings were getting it on and I had a front row seat. God I wished I could fuck them. Jill shook in the chair as she came, pushing Jenna’s head into her groin with a grunt. Her nipples looked brown and hard; Jenna reached up to play with them as she brought her sister off. As she orgasmed, her face contorted into what looked like agony. But I knew better. For a second I thought she might scream, but she held her breath instead. Red-faced, she fell completely limp in the chair. Jenna leaned up to kiss her and said something I couldn’t make out. Jill reached down and took Jen’s face in her hands and kissed her. The sun was coming up soon. Jen left first; Jill followed moments after. I fell asleep wondering if this entire week had been a dream. The next two days were even more difficult; we had a pretty tangled web of secrets going on and it wasn’t easy to interact naturally. While Jill and I could deal with each other pretty well, never letting the other know something was up; Jenna wasn’t very good at it. I caught her looking at my crotch regularly; she stammered when speaking to me, avoiding eye contact; and she asked what Jill’s plans were for the night about 5 times a day. Jill gave her ‘cool it!’-looks every so often, but poor Jen couldn’t help herself. She was obsessed with what had taken place the other night. Jill didn’t want Jenna to ruin a good thing, sure, but she also knew our parents would have strokes if they ever knew what was going on between us. So saturday night, Jill wanted to cool it for a bit and went out with some old friends from the neighborhood. Instead of making plans myself, I decided to stay in and watch a movie. My parents always retired at around 10, and Jenna was sure to be out ‘causing trouble’; I would have the entire downstairs to myself. But my assumption about Jen proved incorrect; when she found out I’d planned on staying in, she was thrilled. ‘What movie are you getting?’ she asked, excitedly. “I don’t know…why?’ I was intrigued at her enthusiasm. ‘Well, I don’t feel like going out either. Maybe we could grab some beers and watch a flick?’ Jen was always trying to get me to buy her and her friends beer; she was 3 years away from legal drinking age. This, however, was getting more interesting… Once again, I decided to follow my instincts. They’d been good to me so far… ‘OK’, I said, ‘I’ll bring home some flicks and something to drink. Just be cool, OK? Mom and Dad can’t find out I bought you beers. They’d boot me out on the street. Alright?’ Jenna agreed and we decided on some movies. I returned about an hour later with a case of beer and 2 videos. I brought the goods downstairs into the TV room; essentially a finished basement where the big screen tv, stereo system etc. were kept. Jen was waiting for me there. We watched the first flick; Jenna and I downed about 4 beers each. I was very pleasantly buzzed but Jenna was on her way to drunk. She had made the same mistake that I used to: trying to keep up with a more experienced drinker. The more intoxicated she became, the more I caught her stealing glances at me crotch. She had a strange, far-away look on her face as she gazed at the front of my cut-off shorts. ‘Want another beer?’ she seemed to ask every few minutes. Soon I could sense where Jenna was going with this and happily decided to make it a little easier for her. The next time she got up to pee, I dumped 2 beers down the wet bar sink and put the empties in the pile of beers that I’d drunk so she’d think I drank more than I really did. As she emerged from the bath, I said, ‘Oh, man Jen; I don’t think I can watch that other movie. I’m pretty trashed. No more beers for me.’ ‘AW! Bullshit, Andy! You said we’d stay in and party so that’s what you’re gonna do! There’s plenty more beers and it’s early! C’mon!’ ‘Ok, Ok, I’ll have one more. But I’m really beat.’ As I drained my beer and got up off the couch to get another I stumbled a bit, trying to create the impression that I was sloshed. Jen laughed. ‘Wow, you really are drunk!’ ‘I told you! Now we’re gonna have one more and I’ve gotta call it quits. I feel like I’m gonna fall asleep.’ I cracked another frosty for my self and one for my sis. We gabbed about this and that; I really hammed it up with my sloppy drunk routine. She watched me intently all the while, searching for a sign. I gave her one. In mid sentence I pretended to nod off. Jenna called out my name. She repeated it over and over, more and more urgently. Satisfied that I was out, she laid me down on the couch and took off my sneakers. Checking for any response, she said my name a few more times. I began breathing more loudly. She seemed to stand there staring for a few minutes, unsure of what to do next. Then she walked over to the fridge and grabbed another beer. Then she walked up the stairs and left me. Wait, I thought. Just sit tight and wait. I bided my time by fantasizing about what my 18 year-old sister’s mouth would feel like on my cock. I was blessed with the 2 most beautiful sisters in the world and they were both blowing me! At least that’s what I thought Jen was up to…I had begun to wonder as I lay on the couch alone in the tv room. Thankfully, she returned. She was wearing that same pj set from the other night. She turned out the light and walked to the couch. Just to play it extra safe, she called my name a few more times. I ignored her. As she knelt by the couch, I opened one eye just that tiny bit (I had gotten very good at this in the last 2 weeks…) to see Jenna’s small round tits inches from my face. Her nips were hard and poking at her soft pj top. She reached over and unbuttoned my shorts; then she unzipped my fly. Soon my shorts and boxers were being slowly pulled down to my knees. She must have been terrified that I’d wake up! There. My cock and hairy balls were fully exposed to my younger sister. She knelt there for a full minute watching it as it pulsed with the beat of my heart. Her breathing became more urgent as she reached over and grasped it in her delicate hand. She didn’t jerk me off; rather she stroked it with her fingertips like she might pet a cat. She ran her fingers along the veins of my dick and across my balls. As she watched my cock grow, stimulated by her feather-light touch, I was overcome with the desire to feel her mouth on me. Was she going to suck it, as Jill had? The suspense was killing me. My 10″cock was now fully erect. Once again, Jenna was impressed. She could barely get her fingers all the way around it; she let it go and breathed, ‘Whoah.’ Then suddenly, I felt her lips on the head. They were warm and incredibly soft. She repeatedly kissed my cock head gently and softly. Next, she began licking it up and down, pausing to smooch my balls with long, wet, sucking kisses. It felt exquisite. Finally she lifted the head away from my stomach and slipped it into her mouth. She wasn’t as good as Jill was at sucking cock (she needed practice with her teeth) but it was still fantastic. I was so big and her mouth so small that she gave very noisy head. Slurping and sucking noises filled the tv room. She began a series of ultra sexy (but very quiet) moans and groans while she continued sucking me; I saw by the position af her arm that she was playing with herself again. ‘Mmm, mmm, mmm…’ My cock slipped from her lips to allow her to catch her breath, give her jaw a break and concentrate on her cunt for a bit. She panted in barely controlled lust. Then she was down on it again. Absolute heaven. Soon she was fingering herself so furiously that she temporarily lost control of herself. Her sucking became more forceful; her moaning became loud grunting. She must have caught herself just then; for she stopped everything suddenly and disappeared from my secret line of sight. I lay motionless, hard on aching and head spinning. Damn. She must have felt she went too far and decided to quit while she was ahead. I’d have to finish this myself after she went upstairs to sleep. Oh, well, at least I’ll have the memory of my lovely young sister blowing me while she played with her pussy to aid me in jerking off. She was still in the room; I could hear her heavy breathing, though I couldn’t see her. Had to keep up the illusion that I was out cold. I lay in the darkened room, fully exposed and waiting for whatever might come next. Then I heard her approach the couch again. With eyes closed, I thought I felt her place her elbows on either side of my hips, so she could position herself between my slightly spread legs and suck me straight on. Then I felt her lips on my cockhead again….but it was very different….as she inched my dick into her mouth I slowly realized that it wasn’t her mouth at all…my cock was sliding into Jenna’s hot, wet cunt!! My eyes immediately popped open. I saw Jenna squatting above my crotch, totally nude, one hand on the back of the couch and one holding my pecker steady as she eased herself down onto it, slowly bending her knees at my sides. After the initial penetration, she slid down the full length of my steel-hard 10 inches effortlessly. It was a very snug fit; she was red hot and dripping wet. I felt the tip of my cock find the end of her wonderful wet hole; if she wasn’t so wet, we might never have fit together as she was such a small petite girl and my erect dick was pretty damn big. In fact, at that exact moment, it never felt bigger. In shock, I looked down at her, fully expecting us to be looking each other in the eye and finally dealing with the reality of what was going on. But all I could see was the top of her head as she looked down at our genitals as mine disappeared into hers. Her short blonde hair almost grazed my chest as she watched the penetration. Her little teenage cunt gripped my cock tightly, especially the muscles just inside her lips. Still looking down at our connecting groins, she slowly and carefully started moving her hips, resulting in a very slight inch-deep fuck-motion. It was probably all she could take of my massive dick. She raised her head up towards the ceiling and I awaited eye contact once again…but her eyes were squeezed shut as she arched her back in pleasure. She was obviously convinced that I wouldn’t wake up. Now her sweet little titties were staring me right in the face; 2 erect nipples poked out of the small but perfect mounds and begged to be bit and sucked. But I resisted. She was lost in a haze of lust and desire and was concentrating on the feeling between her legs. I felt that if I shocked her out of this, it would end. And stopping my hot teenage sister from fucking me was the last thing I wanted to do. Jenna had increased the length of her hip strokes. We were almost at the point of really fucking. She brought her head up again and I quickly went to sleep…She was still holding herself over me on her bent knees, arm on the back of the couch, never really coming down all the way; her ass hovered inches off of my balls with her every downstroke. Eventually she increased her fucking until most of my big dick was swallowed up into her sopping pussy with each stroke. She could take the whole thing in with ease now. My hips started moving; the pleasure I was feeling was too much to ignore. She felt me moving with her and put her hands on my chest. She transferred her weight from her knees and arm onto my body. Our pubic hair finally met, grinding together as we fucked. It was glorious. My hands found her ass and helped her up and down. She started making noise again and looked up into my eyes…I looked straight back. No more secrets. The look that immediately appeared on her face was strange; a mix of great pleasure and kind of a pleading… She kissed me on the lips and quickly blurted out, ‘Please don’t stop Andy. Please don’t stop. Just fuck me it’ll be OK just keep…fucking…me…’ I smiled back at her and said ‘Jenna…You’re so fucking good I couldn’t stop even if I wanted to. And I don’t want to…ever…’ She stared at me, her face inches from mine. ‘Oh…Yeah…Ooooo, Andy, fuck me with that big cock….Oh, it’s so big…it’s so good…Oh….that’s it…Ever since I saw it…saw Jill sucking it…I had to have it in me….Uhhh…I had to fuck you…’ I was matching her thrust for thrust; her ass was moving like a jackhammer. My hands found her hardened nipples and pinched them hard. ‘Aauughh!! Ooooh, yeah baby…Fuck…fuck…FUCK…’ Suddenly the lights snapped on. ‘You two better keep it down before you wake Mom and Dad.’ It was Jill. She was standing in the doorway at the bottom of the stairs with her arms crossed, looking at us very disapprovingly. Jenna and I froze like 2 sexy statues; My dick began shrinking instantly. She smiled. ‘Oh, don’t stop on my accout; the cat’s out of the bag now, might as well go with it…’ She stepped into the room. ‘Go ahead.’ Jenna’s stared in shocked disbeleif as she watched her big sister walk over to the couch and stood just a few feet away from us. Jen looked up at me, the scared little sister asking her big brother what to do. I was totally dumbfounded. As my dick rapidly diminished inside Jenna’s puss, I looked sheepishly up at Jill and said, ‘Um…this is really…she…we’re…’ Jill looked very seriously down at us and replied, ‘Andy, really; go ahead. I want to watch. Fuck her.’ Jenna looked at her sister, smiled, and looked back at me. She started moving again and guided my almost-but-not-quite limp dick back into her cunt. She moved her hips back and forth until I felt the blood rushing back to my cock. Jill watched intently as we resumed our fucking. My little sister bounced up and down on my dick with renewed fervor. Soon we had resumed our previous rythm. Jen began grunting with every in-stroke. ‘Yeah, that’s right,’ Jill breathed. At first, I sort of felt ‘on display’; I’d never had sex in front of anyone before. ‘Yeah, Jen, fuck him…fuck his big fat cock…’ Her words spurred me on. As my big sister watched me and my little sister fuck, I became more turned on than ever. Jill looked on with an evil look as we slammed away at each other. Jill took a few steps back to take everything in and then began stripping out of her clothes. She kicked off her shoes, unbuttoned her blouse and slipped out of it. As I watched her removing her black bra, revealing her beautiful tits, our eyes met and I reached a level of sexual excitement that I never dreamed existed. Still furiously fucking my baby sister, who was making increasingly intensifying animal noises in my ear, I watched as Jill stepped out of her jeans and removed her pink panties. Jenna looked over at her older sister, now completely nude, and came intensely with a thunderous groan. She squeezed my neck so tightly I thought she’d break my back. When the tremors subsided, she grabbed my face between her hands and we kissed passionately; I slowed my upward strokes considerably and we made out for a few minutes, Jill’s hungry eyes on us all the while. I didn’t want to stop but Jenna gave me a gentle kiss and rolled off of me. My hard dick slid out of her hole with a nearly audible ‘pop’. ‘Jill he’s so good,’ Jenna said dreamily. ‘It’s so fucking big…’ She leaned towards me and kissed me on the lips again. She gazed over at Jill, now seated on the arm of the couch behind me. I stil wasn’t sure what Jill was up for; watching or participating; so I figured I’d follow their lead. ‘So were you really awake all those times?’ she asked, her eyes flitting between mine and my still swollen member at Jen’s side. ‘No. The first few I wasn’t but I caught you walking in the room one night and decided to fake it and see what you were up to. It wasn’t easy…’ It was hard to talk. I was still in a combination of shock and sexual frenzy. I had one beautiful sister lying naked at my side and one sitting right in front of me and I needed to come badly. Jill sensed the urgency on my face. She reached down and put her hand on my dick. I was still hard as a rock. ‘Did you like it? Andy? Did you like it when I sucked your cock?’ I let out a big sigh as she started man-handling my meat. ‘Yes. Jill, you blow me so good…I loved cumming in your mouth.’ ‘Mmmm…and she swallowed every drop…’said Jenna as Jill popped down onto the couch with us; I had to fight the urge to jump her right then and there and fuck her silly. Keep it cool, Andy. Keep it cool. You’re gonna get what you want, I thought. I was staring at her boobies; they jiggled as she stroked my meat. ‘That’s right,’ Jill whipered, a slight tremor in her voice. ‘I love swallowing your cum. I crave it. I couldn’t stop myself. I want some right now…’ She had snuggled up against me and was whispering directly into my ear as she jacked me off. ‘I couldn’t wait ’til the next time I could suck you off…Maybe from now on, I won’t have to wait…maybe we can do it every time we’re together…’ My heart was pounding like a hammer in my chest. I reached up and put my hand on Jill’s breast; a dream from my childhood come true at last. She looked down into my lap at the big cock in her hand. ‘Mmmmm….I…do, but…’ Jill was worried about her boyfriend back at school. I could take no more of this; I had to shoot my load and I wanted Jill bad. ‘I want to do you too, Jilly. But I understand…’ My hand dropped from her breast down to trace the tattoo around her navel; then further down into her neatly trimmed bush. I found her cunt wet and warm, slippery from her own juices. ‘But would it really be cheating if you did it with your own brother? It’s not like I’m some pick-up in a bar or something…’ Jill lay back against the arm of the couch and spread her legs wide, providing full access for my probing fingers. I found her little hard love-button easily and gently rubbed over the top of her pussy lips with my thumb. She closed her eyes and sighed heavily. ‘C’mon. Jilly. Let me put it in you.’ Without a word she turned around on all fours and faced the opposite direction, tilting her awesome ass up in the air and presenting her pussy to me from the rear. ‘Oh, yeah…put it in! Do her, Andy! Fuck her!’ Jenna was thrilled that her sister was about to experience the same sensations that she had minutes ago. I got into position on my knees behind her and pressed my cock head up against her moist mound. After a bit of gentle probing, I slid my cock into my big sister’s dripping wet hole. She let out an agonized wail; for a moment I thought perhaps she was in pain, but she made no effort to stop me. My hands on her ass, I began pushing/pulling her back and forth. Jenna got up and walked around to face her sister. ‘See? You like his big dick, Jill? Huh? You like it?’ ‘Mmmmmmm…..Mm Hm…’ was all she could manage. I watched my sisters tits swing as I fucked her from behind. Jill angled up and her and Jenna were face to face. They began making out; tongue kissing each other and fondling each other’s breasts. My big sister’s pussy was not quite as tight, but to my surprize it was even warmer and wetter than Jenna’s. I could feel her wetness spreading down over my balls. ‘Ooooooh, fuck…..Ooooooooh, fuck….,’ Jill pleaded. I reached around and grabbed Jill’s tits, one in each hand and continued banging against her fine ass. Jenna sat on the arm of the couch and spread her legs wide facing us. She pulled the petite pink lips of her pussy open with two fingers and demanded, ‘Eat me, Jilly. Eat my pussy. Please!’ Jill bent down and pushed her face into Jenna’s groin. She beagan licking and sucking her sister’s slit with a vengeance. ‘Ooooooooooh, Jill….Eat me…lick my pussy, baby….lick my cunt while he fucks you with that big fat dick…Oh, yeah….’ I looked down at my glistening cock sliding in and out of my big sister’s pussy; her little brown butthole opening and closing with each stroke. Jenna’s eyes met mine; there were tears in her eyes as she gazed at me lovingly. ‘Jill’s eating my pussy, Andy. It feels so good…Mmmmm….How do you like your sister’s pussies, Andy? You like to fuck your sister’s cunts?’ I couldn’t respond. Coherent thought evaded me. We had a classic 3-way going on and there was only one thing left to do…I bent towards Jenna and we began to suck face. All three of us were moaning like mindless idiots as we built our fucking and sucking into a crescendo…we all 3 came together. Jill raised her head up to the sky; on all fours she looked likea wolf baying at the moon. ‘Ahhhhhhhhhhhh……’ She shook and bucked against me as the inner walls of her vagina squeezed. I pulled out of Jill at the very last second; come shot from my cock in thick white gobs. Most of it hit Jill’s ass and back but one squirt ended up in the beautiful brown hair at the back of her head. Jenna bit her lips together as hard as she could as she came, trying to stifle the scream as she pressed Jill’s head into her pussy. We collapsed in a heap on the couch and feel asleep, a tangle of sweating, naked bodies. Life for us would never be the same. Added by brodosist

Haspargit and its mixtures … Pomagro provides crop farmers with a range of complete and balanced formulations. Our Haspargit®-based formulations can be enriched with nitrogen, phosphorus, magnesium and sodium to provide the 7 major and secondary elements required for plants to develop well. Our formulations are available in bulk and have the physical appearance of moist powder. For the production of phosphorus-based mixtures, one has to know that providing the substances and its availability to the plant are complex elements to control. To cope with this, Pomagro has a wide range of phosphorus from various sources with various solubility coefficients. This allows to produce many formulations matching any type of soil and crop to guarantee/ensure optimum intake of the phosphorus by the plants. Just a few reminders … Nitrogen is an important factor for plant growth and quality for it plays a key role in the plant metabolism and is a key component of proteins. Plants with an adequate nitrogen supply grow fast and often have a dark green colour due to the high chlorophyll content in their vegetative system. A good plant growth means an intense assimilation activity. That is why nitrogen is a yield determining factor and is also said to be the backbone of fertilization. The importance of sustainable nitrogen fertilization Nitrogen moves fast in the soil and consequently quickly migrates to the groundwater when it is not immediately assimilated by the plants. So it is very important to supply nitrogen at the right moment to avoid useless fertilization as plants do not take up more nitrogen than they need. Phosphorus plays a major part in plant physiology. It is important for the respiration, the synthesis and degradation of carbohydrates, the synthesis of proteins and for many enzymatic processes. Phosphorus is mainly taken up during the vegetative growth and subsequently transferred to fruits or seeds during the reproduction stage. So phosphorus is a key element for the yield and the quality of the crop. Phosphorus does not move much in the soil and the soluble phosphorus content of the soil is only 2% or 3% of the phosphorus quantity a plant can take up. Consequently, an adequate supply to the plant depends on a fast replenishment of the soil solution. So, phosphorus fertilizers have a dual purpose, viz. to meet the needs of the standing crops and to enrich or maintain the soil reserves at an adequate level. Magnesium plays an important part in most of the plant vital functions, e.g. the photosynthesis, and stimulates the assimilation of CO2 and mineral nitrogen. It plays an important part in the biosynthesis of proteins and the metabolism of phosphorus. Pomagro can supply water soluble magnesium and magnesium in the form of lime. Sodium is regarded as a useful element for the Chenopodioideae plant family which the sugar beet belongs to. It contributes to the development of fructose and to its transformation into glucose in the root of the beet. Inside the plant, sodium and potassium both have similar effects. This makes them interchangeable in some conditions. Haspargit®, the specialist in growing potatoes Our Haspargit®-based formulations are perfect for potato crops as they have a strong impact on quality and yield.

Pastries, cozonac and pies are favorites for everyone, especially in the years of childhood. Who could forget the pleasant aroma of a freshly baked pastry coming from the kitchen, that beckons us as if we were entranced toward it? The preparation of such delights appears to be an easy and pleasant pastime. This is only true if we follow the basic rules for the preparation of a fluffy pastry or cozonac. If you have not mastered them however, you are bound to fail. It is best to measure the right amount of products beforehand, so as to ease the cooking process. One of the most important rules for creating a delicious pastry or baked good is to use a high-quality yeast. It must be stored correctly and not be past its expiration date. When preparing the dough, sift the flour in a bowl and stir the dry yeast well in it. When adding the rest of the ingredients and liquids, they must be at room temperature. Eggs, for example, must not be whisked right after being taken out from the fridge, but left for a short while at room temperature. The way in which the Eggs (if there are any in the recipe) are beaten is extremely important for the making of a good pastry. The egg yolks must be separated from the egg whites, then the egg whites must be whisked for 1 to 2 min. and 3/4 of the sugar must be added to them. Mix with a mixer until floret-like shapes appear. They must solidify to the point where if the bowl is turned upside down, they will not run. The beating of the egg yolks takes place with the remaining 1/4 of the sugar until the moment where, as with the egg whites, florets begin to form within the mixture. Once the whites and yolks are whisked well, the egg yolks are added to the egg whites gradually, without using a mixer. All ingredients must be beaten in the same direction - either clockwise or counterclockwise. The dough must be well kneaded. It is best to start off with a dough mixer with the specialized attachments for dough on a low setting, then on high for about 5 min. The longer you knead the dough, the fluffier the pastry will become. The kneaded dough is left covered with a moist towel or buttered foil in a warm area. This way it will noticeably increase in volume. It is mandatory for all containers used for baking to be absolutely dry. The pan, which you will use for baking must be smeared with oil and floured. Bake the pasty in the middle of the oven. Depending on the type of baked good, initially the temperature on the bottom element must be higher for 10 to 15 min. so that the pie bursts on top. Then turn on the upper element and bake until the toothpick comes out dry after poking it. If, during baking, it begins to burn on top but is still raw on the inside, place a sheet of aluminum foil, but without pressing the edges to the pastry - let it breathe, so that it can rise unobstructed. Once ready, the pastry is left to cool so that it unsticks more easily.

One potential pest of tomatoes and various other garden crops and ornamentals is the flea beetle. These insects, which are usually dark-colored and about 1/16 inch long, jump like fleas when disturbed and can chew a large number of small holes on tomato leaves. Various homemade sprays and cultural controls can help to limit the presence and impact of this pest. Garlic and Pepper Spray A potent spray containing garlic and pepper can repel flea beetles and a variety of other pest insects. To make this type of spray, about six garlic cloves are crushed and blended with a tablespoon of cayenne pepper powder or a similar hot pepper powder or sauce, then combined with a quart of water before the solids are strained out. The resulting liquid is combined with a tablespoon of biodegradable dish-washing liquid in a spray bottle and sprayed onto the tomato. It is important that the spray is reapplied every few days and following any rainfall. Alcohol and Soap Spray One spray that may repel or kill flea beetles is made by combining 2 parts rubbing alcohol, 5 parts water and 1 tablespoon of mild, biodegradable liquid dish-washing soap. As with any other homemade or commercially available pest control spray, testing the spray on a few leaves first and monitoring for any burn or damage before treating whole plants is a good idea. Homemade flea beetle traps are made using 4-inch by 6-inch or larger rectangles of cardboard that are painted white or yellow and then coated with a sticky substance such as petroleum jelly or nonsetting glue. Traps are then held over the tomato plants while the plant is shaken lightly, disturbing flea beetles, which are then caught on the trap. You can also attach the trap to a wooden stake near the plant. Cultural Care Considerations Certain cultural care practices can reduce flea beetle presence, minimizing the need for control later. Removing and disposing of or destroying all weeds and crop debris from around the growing area eliminates flea beetle habitat between growing seasons. Young plants are potentially protected using floating row covers, gauze or mesh. Flea beetles love hot sun and dry soil, so planting tomatoes and other vulnerable crops where they can receive some shade and maintaining an evenly moist soil surface is helpful. Flea beetles are especially drawn to plants in the cabbage family, so planting a few of these plants nearby can draw the pests away from the tomatoes. Additional Possible Flea Beetle Controls Sprinkling wood ashes or wood ashes mixed with slaked lime or soot around tomatoes and other vulnerable plants may offend flea beetles. Sprays made from kaolin clay may serve a similar purpose. Using a handheld vacuum to remove flea beetles from the tomato plants daily can also reduce pest numbers. - University of Vermont Extension: Flea Beetles - Sierra Club Canada: Pest Control Spray You Can Make in Your Kitchen! - Capital District Community Gardens: Garden Pests & Diseases - The Old Farmer's Almanac: Flea Beetles - Rodale's Vegetable Garden Problem Solver; Fern Marshall Bradley - Back to Basics: A Complete Guide to Traditional Skills; Abigail R. Gehring - Ryan McVay/Photodisc/Getty Images

Gardiners of Scotland Whisky Cake Made With Edradour Whisky (300g) No VAT on this product Whisky Cake made with Edradour Malt Whisky. The taste of Scotland in a tin 300g. A delicious, rich fruit cake laced with Scottish Whisky - truly delicious. Every whisky cake comes within its own presentation tin, making a wonderful Scottish gift. Open this tin of Edradour Whisky Cake and savour the deep aroma of dried fruit marinated in Edradour Single Highland Malt Scotch Whisky. The fruit is left to soak up the whisky for several days until it is plump and succulent. then it is hand mixed and finished before being baked in a traditional Scottish reel oven.The result is a moist full-bodied Scottish rich whisky cake, deliciously rich and warm. Edradour Single Highland Malt Scotch Whisky. Edradour is Scotland's smallest distillery which was established in 1825. Edradour produces only 12 casks of whisky a week. Edradour malt whisky is golden in colour, smooth and creamy with a nutty taste, and honeyed finish. Edradour is near Pitlochry, Perthshire, Scotland. This whisky cake is baked by Gardiners of Scotland who specialises in following traditional Scottish recipes. *Please note... Bottle of Edradour Whisky not included.

Carrot Apple Bread This is carrot cake that’s been infused with apples and baked as a loaf. So it’s not cake anymore. It’s bread. Therefore you can have more and definitely can have it for breakfast. I adapted the basic ratios from Cream Cheese-Filled Pumpkin Bread, a personal and fan favorite, to make way for grated carrots and apples. I grated the carrot and apple by hand using the coarsest blade on a box grater. It literally takes two minutes and I’d spend much more time washing food processor parts than quickly doing it the old-fashioned way. It’s an easy, no mixer recipe that goes from bowl to oven in minutes. I used melted coconut oil so there’s no butter to cream and no mixer to dirty. Oil keeps bread softer and springier than butter, and I prefer the taste. Coconut oil adds a nearly imperceptible undertone that’s sweeter and more fragrant than canola or vegetable oil, but substitute with them if you’d like. I love baking with coconut oil for muffins, cakes, bread, cookies and more. I used Nutiva Coconut Oil from iHerb.com. Code AVE630 at checkout saves you $10 off your order. I love iHerb for everything like probiotics, bulk cinnamon, pumpkin pie spice, liquid vanilla stevia drops, bulk white stevia powder, medicinal fancy-grade honey, chia seeds, face cleanser, nutritional yeast, and mini chocolate chips. The batter is very thick and that’s by design. The carrots and apples release juices while baking and if you start with a thin batter, it’ll turn too soupy during baking. I baked the bread in a 9×5-inch pan because I was concerned that the moisture-heavy ingredients crammed into an 8×4 pan would take forever to cook through and a larger pan felt safer. In retrospect, an 8×4 would probably have been fine. The shorter height of the bread didn’t effect our inhaling of it in one day. It’s soft, tender, uber-moist, dense enough to be satisfying, but still light. The cinnamon and nutmeg really shine and add so much wonderful, rich, depth of flavor to the carrots and apples. The carrots dominate and the bread has a more pronounced ‘carrot cake’ taste than apple. It was so flavorful and moist that I didn’t even need butter. Although a browned butter glaze can do no wrong if you’re so inclined. Carrot Apple Bread This is carrot cake that’s been infused with apples and baked as a loaf. It’s an easy, no mixer recipe that goes from bowl to oven in minutes. I used melted coconut oil so there’s no butter to cream and no mixer to dirty. The bread is soft, tender, uber-moist, dense enough to be satisfying, but still light. The cinnamon and nutmeg really shine and add so much wonderful, rich, depth of flavor to the carrots and apples. The carrots dominate and the bread has a more pronounced ‘carrot cake’ taste than apple. Baking with both carrots and apples not only adds chewy texture and natural sweetness, but they add so much moisture. It was so flavorful and moist that I didn’t even need butter. 1 large egg 1/2 cup light brown sugar, packed 1/3 cup liquid-state coconut oil (canola or vegetable may be substituted) 1/4 cup granulated sugar 1/4 cup cup sour cream (lite is okay; or Greek yogurt may be substituted) 2 teaspoons vanilla extract 2 teaspoons cinnamon 1/2 teaspoon ground nutmeg 1 cup all-purpose flour 1/2 teaspoon baking powder 1/2 teaspoon baking soda pinch salt, optional and to taste 3/4 cup grated carrots (about 1 large peeled and trimmed carrot) 3/4 cup grated apples (I used 1 medium unpeeled Fuji; try Gala, Honeycrisp or similar) - Preheat oven to 350F. Spray one 9×5-inch loaf pan with floured cooking spray, or grease and flour the pan; set aside. (I haven’t tried the recipe in an 8×4-inch pan and cannot comment on how long it will take to bake, but use an 8×4 pan if you prefer a taller loaf.) - In a large bowl, add the the first eight ingredients, through nutmeg, and whisk to combine. - Add the flour, baking powder, baking soda, optional salt, and fold with spatula or stir gently with a spoon until just combined; don’t overmix. - Add the carrots, apples, and fold gently to combine. - Turn batter (it’s very thick, this is what you want) out into the prepared pan, smoothing the top lightly with a spatula. - Bake for about 45 to 52 minutes (I baked 50 minutes) or until the top is golden, the center is set, and a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean, or with a few moist crumbs, but no batter. Tip – Tent the pan with a sheet of foil draped loosely over it at the 35 minute-mark if you feel the tops and sides will become too browned before center cooks through. Baking times will vary based on moisture content of carrots, apples, climate, and oven variances. Bake until done; watch your bread, not the clock and don’t worry if it takes longer to bake than the baking estimates provided. - Allow bread to cool in pan for about 15 minutes before turning out on a wire rack to cool completely before slicing and serving. Optionally, serve with or glaze with Honey Butter, Cinnamon-Sugar Butter, or Vanilla Bean Browned Butter Glaze. Bread will keep airtight at room temperature for up to 1 week, or in the freezer for up to 6 months. All images and content are copyright protected. Please do not use my images without prior permission. If you want to republish this recipe, please re-write the recipe in your own words, or simply link back to this post for the recipe. Thank you. Carrot Cake Loaf with Cream Cheese Frosting – Soft, moist carrot cake that’s baked as a loaf. So much faster & easier than baking a cake! Cinnamon Spice Applesauce Bread with Honey Butter – Applesauce keeps this bread so soft & moist! It’s like apple spice cake, disguised as ‘bread’ so you can have extra! Carrot Cake Cupcakes with Vanilla Cream Cheese Frosting – My favorite foolproof recipe for soft, moist, flavorful carrot cake cupcakes! Cinnamon and Spice Sweet Potato Bread – Eating your vegetables via soft, moist bread is the best way! My favorite way to eat sweet potatoes! Soft and Chewy Spiced Carrot Cake Cookies – Tons of texture & so moist with zero cakiness. Eat your vegetables by way of healthy cookies! Spiced Apple and Banana Bundt Cake with Vanilla Caramel Glaze – Apple cake meets banana bread with a to-die-for glaze! Best.ever. Soft Carrot Cake Bars with Cream Cheese Glaze – Super soft bars that taste like blondies packed with chewy carrots! So good & a must-make! Caramel Apple Cheesecake Crumble Bars – Move over apple pie! These are an apple pie, apple crumble and cheesecake all in one!

We have been busy making things for Xmas. We have been making beer, making porcelain body and making kilns, cooking and sewing. I’d like to claim that I have been making music as well, but I’m so bad at playing my cello that I can’t claim that the noise I make is music, just noise — but with some sort of intent and structure. I had a kiln ordered for before Xmas as well as one for after Xmas as well, while the first one was at the galvanisers, waiting to be dipped in molten zinc to permanently rustproof it. I spent the waiting-time, and there is always waiting time at the galvanisers, 3 weeks is usual and longer nearer to Xmas. I spent this time productively making a small re-locatable kiln on castors. This one is for a potter who only has the use of one arm, so everything had to be designed to be flexible and achievable one-handed. This kiln is designed to use 2 quite small and thin kiln shelves, so that it can be loaded with one hand. The kiln has a ceramic fibre-lined lid, which is light weight and hinged, using an adjustable hinge system, that I built, so that it can be lifted simply up into a safe position and held there with chains, just past the pivot point. As the ceramic fibre on the lid seal compresses the hinge can be adjusted to allow for the change in height, so as to maintain a perfect seal. The gas burners are self-igniting using a piezo-electric ignition system that can be operated along with the thermo-electric safety switch, all with one hand. I’ve tried to think it all through so that it is as flexible and practical as possible as well as being safe. I have to make sure that it conforms to all of the Australian Standards as well. Yesterday, we spent a day washing, cleaning and sterilising 60 of our 30 year old beer bottles. There are some real antiques in this collection. Labels from breweries that you can’t buy any more. The old Coopers long necks were so solid and reliable. It takes longer to clean, sterilise and dry them than it does to fill and cap them. It takes us most of a leisurely day to get it all done and then clean everything up again and put all the gear back in its place. It’s a once a year job. 60 bottles of beer will last us all year, because we also make cider from our apples in the autumn, as well as a small amount of wine from our shiraz grapes. Last year we didn’t get to make any cider, because after the bad bush fires that cleaned up all the forest around here. There was not very much for the birds to eat, so they came here and cleaned up every piece of fruit that wasn’t netted. The apples trees are just too big now in their 38th year to get nets over, so there was no crop, hence no cider. However, the year before was really good and we made 120 bottles of cider, so we still have plenty in the cellar, enough to last a few years. Once the bottles are crown sealed, the cider will last many years. We have drunk it up to 5 year old with no noticeable deterioration of flavour or head/mouse. I try to make a years supply of porcelain clay body in the summer time while the weather is hot and the humidity is low. It is made from ball milled ‘bai-tunze’ porcelain stone in a liquid ‘slip’ form, so it needs to be dried out and firmed up on a drying bed in the sun after milling. These drying conditions have not been present up until now. We have had almost constant rain, thunderstorms and showers every day since I got back. It’s been wonderful for the garden and orchards. Now it is easing off a little I’m hopeful that I can get some porcelain made. I’ve started the process of crushing and ball milling and will store the body as slip to age until I can get it dry. I should have been doing this before today, but there just isn’t enough time in the day to do everything that I want to achieve. As well as make a living. I got an unexpected Xmas gift yesterday. I went for a hearing test, because my doctor thought that I might be loosing some acuity in one ear in my old age. The Lovely often says that I don’t listen, but I think that that is another matter all together. I was concerned, because a life spent working with power tools, angle grinders, rock crushers, ball mills and chainsaws, must surely have taken its toll. Fortunately, the audiologist found that my hearing was normal for someone of my age, not perfect, but OK. I must admit that some times I don’t wear the ear-muffs on every single occasion that I ought to, but I wear them most of the time and the benefits of that cautious behaviour are now paying dividends. A nice unexpected present. We decide to cook one of the last pieces of lamb that our son Geordie bought in the middle of the year. As he is a chef at a very prestigious restaurant with a couple of ‘hats’ rating. He will be cooking Xmas dinner for everyone else today. We will have our Xmas lunch with him tomorrow. This last piece of his lamb is the saddle with the eye fillets. Saving the best till last. This will be this months red meat meal. I simmer it very gently in a bottle of our home made quince cider along with a couple of our sliced onions. Put half a bottle of quince puree in the mix and spread the remaining half bottle of puree over the top of the saddle as a paste. After 1 1/2 hrs I drain it off and add a little of our local EV olive oil. I add a few of our newly lifted new season potatoes, a couple more onions and half a bottle of preserved baked, quartered quinces from last autumn. I bake this combo slowly for another 1 1/2 hrs. It’s a triumph of melt-in-your-mouth flavours. The twice baked quinces are amazing and the quince puree that has covered the lamb has kept it succulent and moist and amazingly flavoursome. We are very lucky people to be able to enjoy what would otherwise be an unaffordable meal. Janine steams some of our diced zucchinis with mint leaves. I go under the floor and into the wine cellar and retrieve a bottle of 1994 Wynns Coonawarra, John Riddoch, Cab sav. At 20 years old, it is amazingly spritely and still just a little bit tannic. It still has plenty of life left in it. I open it when we start cooking and it is very mellow and smooth, rich and complex and by the time the meal is ready, it is well breathed and a very good match. I still have one bottle left in the box. We’ll try it again in another couple of years. We spend the rest of the day relaxing. Janine reading the letters of John and Sunday Reed, while I get out my cello. I am really grateful that we are able to live this indulgent, self-reliant life that we have chosen for ourselves. On this quiet day, when it isn’t possible to do much else, we do what we always do. I check out the garden, pull a few weeds, pick some food for dinner, do a bit of watering of those soft, tender young seedlings, I also unload the ball mill that was running for 16 hours over-night milling 30 kgs of porcelain stone. While The Lovely spends a relaxing morning cutting up some worn out cotton pants and making a couple of pairs of ‘gaiters’, ankle protectors to cover her socks and boot tops while gardening and mowing. Nothing is thrown out until it has been well and truly all used up. Re-used, re-purposed and finally re-cycled. I am also immensely grateful that we are fortunate enough to be living here, where there are no helicopter gunships, no land mines and no civil war. I am aware that we are very fortunate indeed! I am grateful. fond regards from a lucky bloke and his industrious captain of her own of industry

TASTE THE DIFFERENCE... Custom Recipes | Crafted for Game What makes Backwoods® Seasonings so exceptional? It's our fanatical commitment to flavor. That's why each recipe we develop is unique because no two blends should be alike. Through a painstaking process of trial and error, we discover the greatness an ingredient will bring to a blend. Then we test and re-test until the flavor is perfect. Sure, it's time-consuming and expensive but the results speak volumes. We can taste the difference and we think you will too. So - we'll keep at it and truth be told... it's kind of fun. Backwoods® Seasoning Information Find everything you need or want to know about Backwoods Spices and Seasonings on our Seasoning Information page! Click on the blend you want, and you'll find the back of the seasoning packet – which includes nutritional information, ingredients, instructions, and even suggestions for use. Our Fresh Sausage Seasonings are defined by the absence of Cure. These are simply fresh sausage seasonings that will be added to meat which will need to be cooked within 4 days of making or properly freezer wrap for longer storage. We carry 9 flavors of Fresh Sausage Seasonings that yield 5 or 25 pounds of sausage, 6 of which contain no MSG. The easy to follow instructions allow you to make as little or as much as you want. Our Cured Sausage Seasonings contain a package of LEM Cure inside every pouch. These seasonings include cure because the finished sausages will be smoked. Cure defends against the growth of Botulism during the low and slow cooking of the smoking process. A common misconception is that these sausages do not need to be refrigerated after smoking, but they do! If you want a shelf stable product after smoking, you will also need to add Citric Acid to the mixture after grinding (so the particles are not destroyed) but before your sausage is smoked. The Citric Acid brings the PH level down to 4.9 (an acceptable rande is 4.9 - 5.2), so it will become shelf stable. You must be certain the internal temperature is brought to 160°F to ensure the capsules melt and coat the protein. We offer 13 flavors of Cured Sausage Seasonings that yield 5 or 25 pounds of sausage, 5 of which do not contain MSG. The easy to follow instructions allow you to make as little or as much as you want. Backwoods Jerky Seasonings have been delighting customers since 1991. We make it simple with our easy to follow instructions and pre-measured Cure in every package. Marinate strips or mix with ground meat and use with our famous Jerky Cannon! For wild game and domestic meat. We also offer several sausage flavor enhancers that produce a smoother, longer lasting and more moist final product. Citric Acid aids in shelf stability. Our Trehalose, which is a naturally derived sugar with half the sweetness of table sugar, takes the fishy or wild taste out of any protein you are working with and creates a better appearance by allowing the sausage to retain moisture and eliminates freezer burn. Our Soy Protein Concentrate prevents shrinkage during cooking and gives the sausage a smoother texture. Don't forget to add cheese to your next batch! Our 4 flavors of High-Temperature Cheese - Cheddar, Hot Pepper, Swiss and Mozzarella - add cheesy deliciousness to your sausage! All flavors are 100% real cheese formulated to retain its shape and flavor up to 400°F. We suggest adding 1 pound of cheese to every 10 pounds of meat. Cheese will last up to 12 months at 32°F to 45°F, and can also be frozen.

First off, I want to apologize for being inactive for almost a month. The Practice Vitality writers have all had some personal issues they have had to deal with, and somehow all at the same time. It’s not easy to share issues of a personal nature over the internet, but we have always wanted Practice Vitality to be about a healing community, so once things simmer down, I will let my friends in the blogosphere know what has been happening with me (but not my co-contributors). I will say this – being a doctor and a patient at the same time has been an interesting experience. With the new year coming, probably many of you will want to start the year off with a cleanse. Personally, I favor cleanses in the spring and the summer, when many of the fresh, cool, crisp foods used in a cleanse are better tolerated. Mung beans sprouts are a great cleansing food for the winter due to their easy digestibility. In Ayurveda, they are considered cooling, so adding some warming Indian spices and healthy oils can help make them more suitable for the winter. Mung bean sprouts are a childhood food for me, but they have been considered a healthy food for thousands of years such as in ancient health systems like Ayurveda. For more info, check out this post by Joyful Belly Ayurveda – one of my favorite websites for ayurvedic nutrition. It’s a very user-friendly and approachable resource for ayurvedic and integrative nutrition. Mung beans are high in one of my favorite compounds – resistant starch, which has shown some evidence that it can be helpful for colon health and for the gut microbiome. How to Make Mung Bean Sprouts: Mung bean sprouts take a little planning, but very little time or preparation. Usually, I make mine over 2 nights. - Soak your mung beans. I soak them at least for 12 hours. I change out the water after a day if I don’t end up going to the next step. - Drain out the water, and cover the bowl of mung beans with a lid. Place a tissue on the bottom of the bowl to collect the excess water. - Wait a few hours – as few as 3 hours but can be as long as 12hrs. - The sprouts need a moist environment but they should not be wet. - Alternately, you can put the beans in a moist cloth and gather the cloth tightly in a ball which you can let hang in the kitchen. You can also just put the mung beans in a nut-milk bag and let them hang. - If you live in a cold climate, you may want to put the sprouts in the oven with the pilot light on to help them along. - Cooking sprouts thoroughly can prevent illness from sprouts - Wash sprouts thoroughly before eating them or cooking with them - Wash seeds in peroxide preheated to 140 degrees fahrenheit to help minimize bacteria. Peroxide is not a harmful chemical in these small amounts. - The longer you wait for the seeds to sprout the more likely you are to have bacteria on the sprouts. - Refrigerate sprouts once you have made them. Now, you should all know that I love sprouts for the health benefits, but there are risks, just as for anything. Sprouts have to grow in warmer, more humid temperatures, which bacteria also love and so there is a risk of food poisoning with E. Coli. Making sprouts at home actually has more risk than buying sprouts outside because the sprouts makers work with the FDA to minimize the risk. Here is a website from UC Davis the has some suggestions on how to minimize the risk of food poisoning. Pregnant women, young children and elderly, and people who could have a compromised immune system should not eat home-made sprouts. Here are some other posts to use as references to help you get a good idea on how to make mung bean sprouts: - Heres a little video - Serve Mung bean sprouts plain as a snack, or with a couple of squeezes lemon, 1/2 tsp salt and a pinch of chili powder and turmeric. Chopped cilantro is a nice garnish. You can also add carrots and grated fresh coconut. - Add warming indian tempering spices, such as in this short youtube video. Sesame oil and ghee are great options, but keep in mind that in Ayurveda sesame oil is heating and if you have heavy periods they can get worse if you use sesame.

For single dwellings, BASIX recognises the following types of ventilation system: - no mechanical ventilation– that is, natural ventilation - individual fan, not ducted - individual fan, ducted to façade or roof Operation controls available in BASIX are: - interlocked to light (ventilation fan switch on/off is interlocked to the light switch) - continuous (ventilation fan operates continuously ie. 24 hours per day) - manual switch on/off - manual on/timed off All ventilation systems must be designed in accordance with the National Construction Code (NCC), which in turn requires compliance with Australian Standards 1668.1 and 1668.2 for mechanical ventilation systems. BASIX calculations are based on AS1668.2 minimum airflow requirements and generally assume fan efficiency higher than the NCC minimum. Internal ventilation options? The most efficient option is natural ventilation, typically via windows that can be opened. In general, individual fans without ducting are likely to be the most efficient of the mechanical ventilation options. However, moist air vented to the roof space by individual fans without ducting can increase the risks of building condensation, especially if the roof material is continuous (such as metal roofing). Ducted individual fans are not much worse than those without ducting in terms of energy efficiency, as long as the intake, ducting and discharge are reasonably sized. Ideally, from a heating and cooling perspective, fans should have automatic dampers or shutters so that air does not leak through them when they are not operating. A fan with some form of operation control such as manual on/off or interlocking to the light switch, will be considerably more efficient than a continuously operating fan.

Lightly foaming and sulphate and paraben free. This sulphate free wash provides a gentle, non drying cleanser to remove impurities leaving your skin feeling soft, clear and clean. Combines chamomile, aloe vera, witch hazel and green tea with macadamia and evening primrose oils to purify and balance your skin. Suitable for all skin types especially oily and sensitive. Suitable for all skin types especially oily and combination skin. Application: Apply a small amount to moist hands and lather with water. Gently massage into skin. Rinse thoroughly with water. Use once or twice daily. 125ml. Ingredients: Aqua, Aloe Barbadensis Leaf Juice, Cocoamidopropyl Betaine, Decyl Glucoside, PEG-150 Pentaerythrityl Tetrastearate, Chamomilla Recutita (Matricaria) Flower Extract (Chamomile), Camellia Sinensis Leaf Extract(Green Tea), Hamamelis Virginiana (Witch Hazel) Extract, Glycerin,Macadamia Ternifolia Seed Oil, Rosa Canina Fruit Oil (Rose Hip) Oenothera Biennis (Evening Primrose) Oil, Phenoxyethanol, Benzyl Alcohol, Citrus Tangerina (Tangerine) Peel Oil, Citrus Nobilis (Mandarin Orange) Peel Oil, Lavandula Angustifolia Flower/Leaf/Stem Extract (Lavender), Vanillin, VanillaPlanifolia Extract, Citric Acid, Linalool,* Limonene.* * Natural component of essential oils. Vegan. Certified cruelty-free. Paraben-free.

I have endeavoured in this Ghostly little book, to raise the Ghost of an Idea, which shall not put my readers out of humour with themselves, with each other, with the season, or with me. May it haunt their houses pleasantly, and no one wish to lay it. Their faithful Friend and Servant, C.D. Chapter 1 – Marley’s Ghost Marley was dead: to begin with. There is no doubt whatever about that. The register of his burial was signed by the clergyman, the clerk, the undertaker, and the chief mourner. Scrooge signed it. And Scrooge’s name was good upon ‘Change, for anything he chose to put his hand to. Old Marley was as dead as a door-nail. Mind! I don’t mean to say that I know, of my own knowledge, what there is particularly dead about a door-nail. I might have been inclined, myself, to regard a coffin-nail as the deadest piece of ironmongery in the trade. But the wisdom of our ancestors is in the simile; and my unhallowed hands shall not disturb it, or the Country’s done for. You will therefore permit me to repeat, emphatically, that Marley was as dead as a door-nail. Scrooge knew he was dead? Of course he did. How could it be otherwise? Scrooge and he were partners for I don’t know how many years. Scrooge was his sole executor, his sole administrator, his sole assign, his sole residuary legatee, his sole friend, and sole mourner. And even Scrooge was not so dreadfully cut up by the sad event, but that he was an excellent man of business on the very day of the funeral, and solemnised it with an undoubted bargain. The mention of Marley’s funeral brings me back to the point I started from. There is no doubt that Marley was dead. This must be distinctly understood, or nothing wonderful can come of the story I am going to relate. If we were not perfectly convinced that Hamlet’s Father died before the play began, there would be nothing more remarkable in his taking a stroll at night, in an easterly wind, upon his own ramparts, than there would be in any other middle-aged gentleman rashly turning out after dark in a breezy spot — say Saint Paul’s Churchyard for instance — literally to astonish his son’s weak mind. Scrooge never painted out Old Marley’s name. There it stood, years afterwards, above the ware-house door: Scrooge and Marley. The firm was known as Scrooge and Marley. Sometimes people new to the business called Scrooge Scrooge, and sometimes Marley, but he answered to both names. It was all the same to him. Oh! But he was a tight-fisted hand at the grindstone, Scrooge! a squeezing, wrenching, grasping, scraping, clutching, covetous old sinner! Hard and sharp as flint, from which no steel had ever struck out generous fire; secret, and self-contained, and solitary as an oyster. The cold within him froze his old features, nipped his pointed nose, shrivelled his cheek, stiffened his gait; made his eyes red, his thin lips blue; and spoke out shrewdly in his grating voice. A frosty rime was on his head, and on his eyebrows, and his wiry chin. He carried his own low temperature always about with him; he iced his office in the dog-days; and didn’t thaw it one degree at Christmas. External heat and cold had little influence on Scrooge. No warmth could warm, no wintry weather chill him. No wind that blew was bitterer than he, no falling snow was more intent upon its purpose, no pelting rain less open to entreaty. Foul weather didn’t know where to have him. The heaviest rain, and snow, and hail, and sleet, could boast of the advantage over him in only one respect. They often came down handsomely, and Scrooge never did. Nobody ever stopped him in the street to say, with gladsome looks, “My dear Scrooge, how are you. When will you come to see me.” No beggars implored him to bestow a trifle, no children asked him what it was o’clock, no man or woman ever once in all his life inquired the way to such and such a place, of Scrooge. Even the blindmen’s dogs appeared to know him; and when they saw him coming on, would tug their owners into doorways and up courts; and then would wag their tails as though they said, “No eye at all is better than an evil eye, dark master! ” But what did Scrooge care! It was the very thing he liked. To edge his way along the crowded paths of life, warning all human sympathy to keep its distance, was what the knowing ones call nuts to Scrooge. Once upon a time — of all the good days in the year, on Christmas Eve — old Scrooge sat busy in his counting-house. It was cold, bleak, biting weather: foggy withal: and he could hear the people in the court outside, go wheezing up and down, beating their hands upon their breasts, and stamping their feet upon the pavement stones to warm them. The city clocks had only just gone three, but it was quite dark already: it had not been light all day: and candles were flaring in the windows of the neighbouring offices, like ruddy smears upon the palpable brown air. The fog came pouring in at every chink and keyhole, and was so dense without, that although the court was of the narrowest, the houses opposite were mere phantoms. To see the dingy cloud come drooping down, obscuring everything, one might have thought that Nature lived hard by, and was brewing on a large scale. The door of Scrooge’s counting-house was open that he might keep his eye upon his clerk, who in a dismal little cell beyond, a sort of tank, was copying letters. Scrooge had a very small fire, but the clerk’s fire was so very much smaller that it looked like one coal. But he couldn’t replenish it, for Scrooge kept the coal-box in his own room; and so surely as the clerk came in with the shovel, the master predicted that it would be necessary for them to part. Wherefore the clerk put on his white comforter, and tried to warm himself at the candle; in which effort, not being a man of a strong imagination, he failed. “A merry Christmas, uncle! God save you!” cried a cheerful voice. It was the voice of Scrooge’s nephew, who came upon him so quickly that this was the first intimation he had of his approach. “Bah!” said Scrooge, “Humbug!” He had so heated himself with rapid walking in the fog and frost, this nephew of Scrooge’s, that he was all in a glow; his face was ruddy and handsome; his eyes sparkled, and his breath smoked again. “Christmas a humbug, uncle!” said Scrooge’s nephew. “You don’t mean that, I am sure.” “I do,” said Scrooge. “Merry Christmas! What right have you to be merry? what reason have you to be merry? You’re poor enough.” “Come, then,” returned the nephew gaily. “What right have you to be dismal? what reason have you to be morose? You’re rich enough.” Scrooge having no better answer ready on the spur of the moment, said, “Bah!” again; and followed it up with “Humbug.” “Don’t be cross, uncle,” said the nephew. “What else can I be,” returned the uncle, “when I live in such a world of fools as this Merry Christmas! Out upon merry Christmas. What’s Christmas time to you but a time for paying bills without money; a time for finding yourself a year older, but not an hour richer; a time for balancing your books and having every item in ’em through a round dozen of months presented dead against you? If I could work my will,” said Scrooge indignantly, “every idiot who goes about with “Merry Christmas” on his lips, should be boiled with his own pudding, and buried with a stake of holly through his heart. He should!” “Uncle!” pleaded the nephew. “Nephew!” returned the uncle, sternly, “keep Christmas in your own way, and let me keep it in mine.” “Keep it!” repeated Scrooge’s nephew. “But you don’t keep it.” “Let me leave it alone, then,” said Scrooge. “Much good may it do you! Much good it has ever done you!” “There are many things from which I might have derived good, by which I have not profited, I dare say,” returned the nephew: “Christmas among the rest. But I am sure I have always thought of Christmas time, when it has come round — apart from the veneration due to its sacred name and origin, if anything belonging to it can be apart from that — as a good time: a kind, forgiving, charitable, pleasant time: the only time I know of, in the long calendar of the year, when men and women seem by one consent to open their shut-up hearts freely, and to think of people below them as if they really were fellow-passengers to the grave, and not another race of creatures bound on other journeys. And therefore, uncle, though it has never put a scrap of gold or silver in my pocket, I believe that it has done me good, and will do me good; and I say, God bless it!” The clerk in the tank involuntarily applauded. Becoming immediately sensible of the impropriety, he poked the fire, and extinguished the last frail spark for ever. “Let me hear another sound from you,” said Scrooge, “ and you’ll keep your Christmas by losing your situation. You’re quite a powerful speaker, sir,” he added, turning to his nephew. “I wonder you don’t go into Parliament.” “Don’t be angry, uncle. Come! Dine with us to-morrow.” Scrooge said that he would see him — yes, indeed he did. He went the whole length of the expression, and said that he would see him in that extremity first. “But why?” cried Scrooge’s nephew. “Why?” “Why did you get married?” said Scrooge. “Because I fell in love.” “Because you fell in love!” growled Scrooge, as if that were the only one thing in the world more ridiculous than a merry Christmas. “Good afternoon!” “Nay, uncle, but you never came to see me before that happened. Why give it as a reason for not coming now?” “Good afternoon,” said Scrooge. “I want nothing from you; I ask nothing of you; why cannot we be friends?” “Good afternoon,” said Scrooge. “I am sorry, with all my heart, to find you so resolute. We have never had any quarrel, to which I have been a party. But I have made the trial in homage to Christmas, and I’ll keep my Christmas humour to the last. So A Merry Christmas, uncle!” “Good afternoon!” said Scrooge. “And A Happy New Year!” “Good afternoon!” said Scrooge. His nephew left the room without an angry word, notwithstanding. He stopped at the outer door to bestow the greeting of the season on the clerk, who, cold as he was, was warmer than Scrooge; for he returned them cordially. “There’s another fellow,” muttered Scrooge; who overheard him: “my clerk, with fifteen shillings a week, and a wife and family, talking about a merry Christmas. I’ll retire to Bedlam.” This lunatic, in letting Scrooge’s nephew out, had let two other people in. They were portly gentlemen, pleasant to behold, and now stood, with their hats off, in Scrooge’s office. They had books and papers in their hands, and bowed to him. “Scrooge and Marley’s, I believe,” said one of the gentlemen, referring to his list. “Have I the pleasure of addressing Mr Scrooge, or Mr Marley?” “Mr Marley has been dead these seven years,” Scrooge replied. “He died seven years ago, this very night.” “We have no doubt his liberality is well represented by his surviving partner,” said the gentleman, presenting his credentials. It certainly was; for they had been two kindred spirits. At the ominous word “liberality”, Scrooge frowned, and shook his head, and handed the credentials back. “At this festive season of the year, Mr Scrooge,” said the gentleman, taking up a pen, “it is more than usually desirable that we should make some slight provision for the Poor and destitute, who suffer greatly at the present time. Many thousands are in want of common necessaries; hundreds of thousands are in want of common comforts, sir.” “Are there no prisons?” asked Scrooge. “Plenty of prisons,” said the gentleman, laying down the pen again. “And the Union workhouses?” demanded Scrooge. “Are they still in operation?” “They are. Still,” returned the gentleman, “ I wish I could say they were not.” “The Treadmill and the Poor Law are in full vigour, then?” said Scrooge. “Both very busy, sir.” “Oh! I was afraid, from what you said at first, that something had occurred to stop them in their useful course,” said Scrooge. “I’m very glad to hear it.” “Under the impression that they scarcely furnish Christian cheer of mind or body to the multitude,” returned the gentleman, “a few of us are endeavouring to raise a fund to buy the Poor some meat and drink, and means of warmth. We choose this time, because it is a time, of all others, when Want is keenly felt, and Abundance rejoices. What shall I put you down for?” “Nothing!” Scrooge replied. “You wish to be anonymous?” “I wish to be left alone,” said Scrooge. “Since you ask me what I wish, gentlemen, that is my answer. I don’t make merry myself at Christmas and I can’t afford to make idle people merry. I help to support the establishments I have mentioned: they cost enough: and those who are badly off must go there.” “Many can’t go there; and many would rather die.” “If they would rather die,” said Scrooge, “they had better do it, and decrease the surplus population. Besides — excuse me — I don’t know that.” “But you might know it,” observed the gentleman. “It’s not my business,” Scrooge returned. “It’s enough for a man to understand his own business, and not to interfere with other people’s. Mine occupies me constantly. Good afternoon, gentlemen!” Seeing clearly that it would be useless to pursue their point, the gentlemen withdrew. Scrooge resumed his labours with an improved opinion of himself, and in a more facetious temper than was usual with him. Meanwhile the fog and darkness thickened so, that people ran about with flaring links, proffering their services to go before horses in carriages, and conduct them on their way. The ancient tower of a church, whose gruff old bell was always peeping slily down at Scrooge out of a gothic window in the wall, became invisible, and struck the hours and quarters in the clouds, with tremulous vibrations afterwards as if its teeth were chattering in its frozen head up there. The cold became intense. In the main street, at the corner of the court, some labourers were repairing the gas-pipes, and had lighted a great fire in a brazier, round which a party of ragged men and boys were gathered: warming their hands and winking their eyes before the blaze in rapture. The water-plug being left in solitude, its overflowings sullenly congealed, and turned to misanthropic ice. The brightness of the shops where holly sprigs and berries crackled in the lamp-heat of the windows, made pale faces ruddy as they passed. Poulterers’ and grocers’ trades became a splendid joke: a glorious pageant, with which it was next to impossible to believe that such dull principles as bargain and sale had anything to do. The Lord Mayor, in the stronghold of the might Mansion House, gave orders to his fifty cooks and butlers to keep Christmas as a Lord Mayor’s household should; and even the little tailor, whom he had fined five shillings on the previous Monday for being drunk and bloodthirsty in the streets, stirred up tomorrow’s pudding in his garret, while his lean wife and the baby sallied out to buy the beef. Foggier yet, and colder! Piercing, searching, biting cold. If the good Saint Dunstan had but nipped the Evil Spirit’s nose with a touch of such weather as that, instead of using his familiar weapons, then indeed he would have roared to lusty purpose. The owner of one scant young nose, gnawed and mumbled by the hungry cold as bones are gnawed by dogs, stooped down at Scrooge’s keyhole to regale him with a Christmas carol: but at the first sound of God bless you, merry gentleman! May nothing you dismay! Scrooge seized the ruler with such energy of action that the singer fled in terror, leaving the keyhole to the fog and even more congenial frost. At length the hour of shutting up the counting-house arrived. With an ill-will Scrooge dismounted from his stool, and tacitly admitted the fact to the expectant clerk in the Tank, who instantly snuffed his candle out, and put on his hat. “You’ll want all day tomorrow, I suppose?” said Scrooge. “If quite convenient, Sir.” “It’s not convenient,” said Scrooge, “and it’s not fair. If I was to stop half-a-crown for it, you’d think yourself ill-used, I ‘ll be bound?” The clerk smiled faintly. “And yet,” said Scrooge, “you don’t think me ill-used, when I pay a day’s wages for no work.” The clerk observed that it was only once a year. “A poor excuse for picking a man’s pocket every twenty-fifth of December!” said Scrooge, buttoning his great-coat to the chin. “But I suppose you must have the whole day. Be here all the earlier next morning!” The clerk promised that he would; and Scrooge walked out with a growl. The office was closed in a twinkling, and the clerk, with the long ends of his white comforter dangling below his waist (for he boasted no great-coat), went down a slide on Cornhill, at the end of a lane of boys, twenty times, in honour of its being Christmas Eve, and then ran home to Camden Town as hard as he could pelt, to play at blindman’s buff. Scrooge took his melancholy dinner in his usual melancholy tavern; and having read all the newspapers, and beguiled the rest of the evening with his banker’s-book, went home to bed. He lived in chambers which had once belonged to his deceased partner. They were a gloomy suite of rooms, in a lowering pile of building up a yard, where it had so little business to be, that one could scarcely help fancying it must have run there when it was a young house, playing at hide-and-seek with other houses, and have forgotten the way out again. It was old enough now, and dreary enough, for nobody lived in it but Scrooge, the other rooms being all let out as offices. The yard was so dark that even Scrooge, who knew its every stone, was fain to grope with his hands. The fog and frost so hung about the black old gateway of the house, that it seemed as if the Genius of the Weather sat in mournful meditation on the threshold. Now, it is a fact, that there was nothing at all particular about the knocker on the door, except that it was very large. It is also a fact, that Scrooge had seen it, night and morning, during his whole residence in that place; also that Scrooge had as little of what is called fancy about him as any man in the City of London, even including — which is a bold word — the corporation, aldermen, and livery. Let it also be borne in mind that Scrooge had not bestowed one thought on Marley, since his last mention of his seven-year’s dead partner that afternoon. And then let any man explain to me, if he can, how it happened that Scrooge, having his key in the lock of the door, saw in the knocker, without its undergoing any intermediate process of change: not a knocker, but Marley’s face. Marley’s face. It was not in impenetrable shadow as the other objects in the yard were, but had a dismal light about it, like a bad lobster in a dark cellar. It was not angry or ferocious, but looked at Scrooge as Marley used to look: with ghostly spectacles turned up upon its ghostly forehead. The hair was curiously stirred, as if by breath or hot-air; and, though the eyes were wide open, they were perfectly motionless. That, and its livid colour, made it horrible; but its horror seemed to be in spite of the face and beyond its control, rather than a part of its own expression. As Scrooge looked fixedly at this phenomenon, it was a knocker again. To say that he was not startled, or that his blood was not conscious of a terrible sensation to which it had been a stranger from infancy, would be untrue. But he put his hand upon the key he had relinquished, turned it sturdily, walked in, and lighted his candle. He did pause, with a moment’s irresolution, before he shut the door; and he did look cautiously behind it first, as if he half expected to be terrified with the sight of Marley’s pigtail sticking out into the hall. But there was nothing on the back of the door, except the screws and nuts that held the knocker on, so he said “Pooh, pooh!” and closed it with a bang. The sound resounded through the house like thunder. Every room above, and every cask in the wine-merchant’s cellars below, appeared to have a separate peal of echoes of its own. Scrooge was not a man to be frightened by echoes. He fastened the door, and walked across the hall, and up the stairs, slowly too: trimming his candle as he went. You may talk vaguely about driving a coach-and-six up a good old flight of stairs, or through a bad young Act of Parliament; but I mean to say you might have got a hearse up that staircase, and taken it broadwise, with the splinter-bar towards the wall and the door towards the balustrades: and done it easy. There was plenty of width for that, and room to spare; which is perhaps the reason why Scrooge thought he saw a locomotive hearse going on before him in the gloom. Half-a-dozen gas-lamps out of the street wouldn’t have lighted the entry too well, so you may suppose that it was pretty dark with Scrooge’s dip. Up Scrooge went, not caring a button for that: darkness is cheap, and Scrooge liked it. But before he shut his heavy door, he walked through his rooms to see that all was right. He had just enough recollection of the face to desire to do that. Sitting-room, bed-room, lumber-room. All as they should be. Nobody under the table, nobody under the sofa; a small fire in the grate; spoon and basin ready; and the little saucepan of gruel (Scrooge has a cold in his head) upon the hob. Nobody under the bed; nobody in the closet; nobody in his dressing-gown, which was hanging up in a suspicious attitude against the wall. Lumber-room as usual. Old fire-guard, old shoes, two fish-baskets, washing-stand on three legs, and a poker. Quite satisfied, he closed his door, and locked himself in; double-locked himself in, which was not his custom. Thus secured against surprise, he took off his cravat; put on his dressing-gown and slippers, and his night-cap; and sat down before the fire to take his gruel. It was a very low fire indeed; nothing on such a bitter night. He was obliged to sit close to it, and brood over it, before he could extract the least sensation of warmth from such a handful of fuel. The fireplace was an old one, built by some Dutch merchant long ago, and paved all round with quaint Dutch tiles, designed to illustrate the Scriptures. There were Cains and Abels, Pharaoh’s daughters, Queens of Sheba, Angelic messengers descending through the air on clouds like feather-beds, Abrahams, Belshazzars, Apostles putting off to sea in butter-boats, hundreds of figures to attract his thoughts; and yet that face of Marley, seven years dead, came like the ancient Prophet’s rod, and swallowed up the whole. If each smooth tile had been a blank at first, with power to shape some picture on its surface from the disjointed fragments of his thoughts, there would have been a copy of old Marley’s head on every one. “Humbug!” said Scrooge; and walked across the room. After several turns, he sat down again. As he threw his head back in the chair, his glance happened to rest upon a bell, a disused bell, that hung in the room, and communicated for some purpose now forgotten with a chamber in the highest story of the building. It was with great astonishment, and with a strange, inexplicable dread, that as he looked, he saw this bell begin to swing. It swung so softly in the outset that it scarcely made a sound; but soon it rang out loudly, and so did every bell in the house. This might have lasted half a minute, or a minute, but it seemed an hour. The bells ceased as they had begun, together. They were succeeded by a clanking noise, deep down below; as if some person were dragging a heavy chain over the casks in the wine-merchant’s cellar. Scrooge then remembered to have heard that ghosts in haunted houses were described as dragging chains. The cellar-door flew open with a booming sound, and then he heard the noise much louder, on the floors below; then coming up the stairs; then coming straight towards his door. “It’s humbug still!” said Scrooge. “I won’t believe it.” His colour changed though, when, without a pause, it came on through the heavy door, and passed into the room before his eyes. Upon its coming in, the dying flame leaped up, as though it cried, “I know him! Marley’s Ghost!” and fell again. The same face: the very same. Marley in his pigtail, usual waistcoat, tights, and boots; the tassels on the latter bristling, like his pigtail, and his coat-skirts, and the hair upon his head. The chain he drew was clasped about his middle. It was long, and wound about him like a tail; and it was made (for Scrooge observed it closely) of cash-boxes, keys, padlocks, ledgers, deeds, and heavy purses wrought in steel. His body was transparent; so that Scrooge, observing him, and looking through his waistcoat, could see the two buttons on his coat behind. Scrooge had often heard it said that Marley had no bowels, but he had never believed it until now. No, nor did he believe it even now. Though he looked the phantom through and through, and saw it standing before him; though he felt the chilling influence of its death-cold eyes; and marked the very texture of the folded kerchief bound about its head and chin, which wrapper he had not observed before; he was still incredulous, and fought against his senses. “How now!” said Scrooge, caustic and cold as ever. “What do you want with me?” “Much!” — Marley’s voice, no doubt about it. “Who are you?” “Ask me who I was.” “Who were you then.” said Scrooge, raising his voice. “You’re particular, for a shade.” He was going to say “to a shade,” but substituted this, as more appropriate. “In life I was your partner, Jacob Marley.” “Can you — can you sit down?” asked Scrooge, looking doubtfully at him. “Do it, then.” Scrooge asked the question, because he didn’t know whether a ghost so transparent might find himself in a condition to take a chair; and felt that in the event of its being impossible, it might involve the necessity of an embarrassing explanation. But the ghost sat down on the opposite side of the fireplace, as if he were quite used to it. “You don’t believe in me,” observed the Ghost. “I don’t,” said Scrooge. “What evidence would you have of my reality beyond that of your senses?” “I don’t know,” said Scrooge. “Why do you doubt your senses?” “Because,” said Scrooge, “a little thing affects them. A slight disorder of the stomach makes them cheats. You may be an undigested bit of beef, a blot of mustard, a crumb of cheese, a fragment of an underdone potato. There’s more of gravy than of grave about you, whatever you are!” Scrooge was not much in the habit of cracking jokes, nor did he feel, in his heart, by any means waggish then. The truth is, that he tried to be smart, as a means of distracting his own attention, and keeping down his terror; for the spectre’s voice disturbed the very marrow in his bones. To sit, staring at those fixed, glazed eyes, in silence for a moment, would play, Scrooge felt, the very deuce with him. There was something very awful, too, in the spectre’s being provided with an infernal atmosphere of its own. Scrooge could not feel it himself, but this was clearly the case; for though the Ghost sat perfectly motionless, its hair, and skirts, and tassels, were still agitated as by the hot vapour from an oven. “You see this toothpick?” said Scrooge, returning quickly to the charge, for the reason just assigned; and wishing, though it were only for a second, to divert the vision’s stony gaze from himself. “I do,” replied the Ghost. “You are not looking at it,” said Scrooge. “But I see it,” said the Ghost, “notwithstanding.” “Well!” returned Scrooge, “I have but to swallow this, and be for the rest of my days persecuted by a legion of goblins, all of my own creation. Humbug, I tell you; humbug!” At this the spirit raised a frightful cry, and shook its chain with such a dismal and appalling noise, that Scrooge held on tight to his chair, to save himself from falling in a swoon. But how much greater was his horror, when the phantom taking off the bandage round its head, as if it were too warm to wear in-doors, its lower jaw dropped down upon its breast! Scrooge fell upon his knees, and clasped his hands before his face. “Mercy!” he said. “Dreadful apparition, why do you trouble me?” “Man of the worldly mind!” replied the Ghost, “do you believe in me or not?” “I do,” said Scrooge. “I must. But why do spirits walk the earth, and why do they come to me?” “It is required of every man,” the Ghost returned, “that the spirit within him should walk abroad among his fellow-men, and travel far and wide; and if that spirit goes not forth in life, it is condemned to do so after death. It is doomed to wander through the world — oh, woe is me! — and witness what it cannot share, but might have shared on earth, and turned to happiness!” Again the spectre raised a cry, and shook its chain, and wrung its shadowy hands. “You are fettered,” said Scrooge, trembling. “Tell me why?” “I wear the chain I forged in life,” replied the Ghost. “I made it link by link, and yard by yard; I girded it on of my own free will, and of my own free will I wore it. Is its pattern strange to you?” Scrooge trembled more and more. “Or would you know,” pursued the Ghost, “the weight and length of the strong coil you bear yourself? It was full as heavy and as long as this, seven Christmas Eves ago. You have laboured on it, since. It is a ponderous chain!” Scrooge glanced about him on the floor, in the expectation of finding himself surrounded by some fifty or sixty fathoms of iron cable: but he could see nothing. “Jacob,” he said, imploringly. “Old Jacob Marley, tell me more. Speak comfort to me, Jacob.” “I have none to give,” the Ghost replied. “It comes from other regions, Ebenezer Scrooge, and is conveyed by other ministers, to other kinds of men. Nor can I tell you what I would. A very little more, is all permitted to me. I cannot rest, I cannot stay, I cannot linger anywhere. My spirit never walked beyond our counting-house — mark me! — in life my spirit never roved beyond the narrow limits of our money-changing hole; and weary journeys lie before me!” It was a habit with Scrooge, whenever he became thoughtful, to put his hands in his breeches pockets. Pondering on what the Ghost had said, he did so now, but without lifting up his eyes, or getting off his knees. “You must have been very slow about it, Jacob,” Scrooge observed, in a business-like manner, though with humility and deference. “Slow!” the Ghost repeated. “Seven years dead,” mused Scrooge. “And travelling all the time?” “The whole time,” said the Ghost. “No rest, no peace. Incessant torture of remorse.” “You travel fast?” said Scrooge. “On the wings of the wind,” replied the Ghost. “You might have got over a great quantity of ground in seven years,” said Scrooge. The Ghost, on hearing this, set up another cry, and clanked its chain so hideously in the dead silence of the night, that the Ward would have been justified in indicting it for a nuisance. “Oh! captive, bound, and double-ironed,” cried the phantom, “not to know, that ages of incessant labour by immortal creatures, for this earth must pass into eternity before the good of which it is susceptible is all developed. Not to know that any Christian spirit working kindly in its little sphere, whatever it may be, will find its mortal life too short for its vast means of usefulness. Not to know that no space of regret can make amends for one life’s opportunities misused! Yet such was I! Oh! such was I!” “But you were always a good man of business, Jacob,” faultered Scrooge, who now began to apply this to himself. “Business!” cried the Ghost, wringing its hands again. “Mankind was my business. The common welfare was my business; charity, mercy, forbearance, and benevolence, were, all, my business. The dealings of my trade were but a drop of water in the comprehensive ocean of my business!” It held up its chain at arm’s length, as if that were the cause of all its unavailing grief, and flung it heavily upon the ground again. “At this time of the rolling year,” the spectre said, “I suffer most. Why did I walk through crowds of fellow-beings with my eyes turned down, and never raise them to that blessed Star which led the Wise Men to a poor abode? Were there no poor homes to which its light would have conducted me!” Scrooge was very much dismayed to hear the spectre going on at this rate, and began to quake exceedingly. “Hear me!” cried the Ghost. “My time is nearly gone.” “I will,” said Scrooge. “But don’t be hard upon me! Don’t be flowery, Jacob! Pray!” “How it is that I appear before you in a shape that you can see, I may not tell. I have sat invisible beside you many and many a day.” It was not an agreeable idea. Scrooge shivered, and wiped the perspiration from his brow. “That is no light part of my penance,” pursued the Ghost. “I am here to-night to warn you, that you have yet a chance and hope of escaping my fate. A chance and hope of my procuring, Ebenezer.” “You were always a good friend to me,” said Scrooge. “Thank’ee!” “You will be haunted,” resumed the Ghost, “by Three Spirits.” Scrooge’s countenance fell almost as low as the Ghost’s had done. “Is that the chance and hope you mentioned, Jacob?” he demanded, in a faltering voice. “I — I think I’d rather not,” said Scrooge. “Without their visits,” said the Ghost, “you cannot hope to shun the path I tread. Expect the first to-morrow, when the bell tolls One.” “Couldn’t I take ’em all at once, and have it over, Jacob?” hinted Scrooge. “Expect the second on the next night at the same hour. The third upon the next night when the last stroke of Twelve has ceased to vibrate. Look to see me no more; and look that, for your own sake, you remember what has passed between us.” When it had said these words, the spectre took its wrapper from the table, and bound it round its head, as before. Scrooge knew this, by the smart sound its teeth made, when the jaws were brought together by the bandage. He ventured to raise his eyes again, and found his supernatural visitor confronting him in an erect attitude, with its chain wound over and about its arm. The apparition walked backward from him; and at every step it took, the window raised itself a little, so that when the spectre reached it, it was wide open. It beckoned Scrooge to approach, which he did. When they were within two paces of each other, Marley’s Ghost held up its hand, warning him to come no nearer. Scrooge stopped. Not so much in obedience, as in surprise and fear: for on the raising of the hand, he became sensible of confused noises in the air; incoherent sounds of lamentation and regret; wailings inexpressibly sorrowful and self-accusatory. The spectre, after listening for a moment, joined in the mournful dirge; and floated out upon the bleak, dark night. Scrooge followed to the window: desperate in his curiosity. He looked out. The air was filled with phantoms, wandering hither and thither in restless haste, and moaning as they went. Every one of them wore chains like Marley’s Ghost; some few (they might be guilty governments) were linked together; none were free. Many had been personally known to Scrooge in their lives. He had been quite familiar with one old ghost, in a white waistcoat, with a monstrous iron safe attached to its ankle, who cried piteously at being unable to assist a wretched woman with an infant, whom it saw below, upon a door-step. The misery with them all was, clearly, that they sought to interfere, for good, in human matters, and had lost the power for ever. Whether these creatures faded into mist, or mist enshrouded them, he could not tell. But they and their spirit voices faded together; and the night became as it had been when he walked home. Scrooge closed the window, and examined the door by which the Ghost had entered. It was double-locked, as he had locked it with his own hands, and the bolts were undisturbed. He tried to say “Humbug!” but stopped at the first syllable. And being, from the emotion he had undergone, or the fatigues of the day, or his glimpse of the Invisible World, or the dull conversation of the Ghost, or the lateness of the hour, much in need of repose; went straight to bed, without undressing, and fell asleep upon the instant. Chapter 2 – The First of the Three Spirits When Scrooge awoke, it was so dark, that looking out of bed, he could scarcely distinguish the transparent window from the opaque walls of his chamber. He was endeavouring to pierce the darkness with his ferret eyes, when the chimes of a neighbouring church struck the four quarters. So he listened for the hour. To his great astonishment the heavy bell went on from six to seven, and from seven to eight, and regularly up to twelve; then stopped. Twelve! It was past two when he went to bed. The clock was wrong. An icicle must have got into the works. Twelve! He touched the spring of his repeater, to correct this most preposterous clock. Its rapid little pulse beat twelve: and stopped. “Why, it isn’t possible,” said Scrooge, “that I can have slept through a whole day and far into another night. It isn’t possible that anything has happened to the sun, and this is twelve at noon!” The idea being an alarming one, he scrambled out of bed, and groped his way to the window. He was obliged to rub the frost off with the sleeve of his dressing-gown before he could see anything; and could see very little then. All he could make out was, that it was still very foggy and extremely cold, and that there was no noise of people running to and fro, and making a great stir, as there unquestionably would have been if night had beaten off bright day, and taken possession of the world. This was a great relief, because “three days after sight of this First of Exchange pay to Mr. Ebenezer Scrooge or his order,” and so forth, would have become a mere United States’ security if there were no days to count by. Scrooge went to be again, and thought, and 1 thought, and thought it over and over, and could make nothing of it. The more he thought, the more perplexed he was; and the more he endeavoured not to think, the more he thought Marley’s Ghost bothered him exceedingly. Every time he resolved within himself, after mature inquiry, that it was all a dream, his mind flew back, like a strong spring released, to its first position, and presented the same problem to be worked all through, “Was it a dream or not?” Scrooge lay in this state until the chime had gone three quarters more, when he remembered, on a sudden, that the Ghost had warned him of a visitation when the bell tolled one. He resolved to lie awake until the hour was past; and, considering that he could no more go to sleep than go to Heaven, this was perhaps the wisest resolution in his power. The quarter was so long, that he was more than once convinced he must have sunk into a doze unconsciously, and missed the clock. At length it broke upon his listening ear. “A quarter past,” said Scrooge, counting. “Half past!” said Scrooge. “A quarter to it,” said Scrooge. “The hour itself,” said Scrooge, triumphantly, “and nothing else!” He spoke before the hour bell sounded, which it now did with a deep, dull, hollow, melancholy ONE. Light flashed up in the room upon the instant, and the curtains of his bed were drawn. The curtains of his bed were drawn aside, I tell you, by a hand. Not the curtains at his feet, nor the curtains at his back, but those to which his face was addressed. The curtains of his bed were drawn aside; and Scrooge, starting up into a half-recumbent attitude, found himself face to face with the unearthly visitor who drew them: as close to it as I am now to you, and I am standing in the spirit at your elbow. It was a strange figure — like a child: yet not so like a child as like an old man, viewed through some supernatural medium, which gave him the appearance of having receded from the view, and being diminished to a child’s proportions. Its hair, which hung about its neck and down its back, was white as if with age; and yet the face had not a wrinkle in it, and the tenderest bloom was on the skin. The arms were very long and muscular; the hands the same, as if its hold were of uncommon strength. Its legs and feet, most delicately formed, were, like those upper members, bare. It wore a tunic of the purest white and round its waist was bound a lustrous belt, the sheen of which was beautiful. It held a branch of fresh green holly in its hand; and, in singular contradiction of that wintry emblem, had its dress trimmed with summer flowers. But the strangest thing about it was, that from the crown of its head there sprung a bright clear jet of light, by which all this was visible; and which was doubtless the occasion of its using, in its duller moments, a great extinguisher for a cap, which it now held under its arm. Even this, though, when Scrooge looked at it with increasing steadiness, was not its strangest quality. For as its belt sparkled and glittered now in one part and now in another, and what was light one instant, at another time was dark, so the figure itself fluctuated in its distinctness: being now a thing with one arm, now with one leg, now with twenty legs, now a pair of legs without a head, now a head without a body: of which dissolving parts, no outline would be visible in the dense gloom wherein they melted away. And in the very wonder of this, it would be itself again; distinct and clear as ever. “Are you the Spirit, sir, whose coming was foretold to me?” asked Scrooge. The voice was soft and gentle. Singularly low, as if instead of being so close beside him, it were at a distance. “Who, and what are you?” Scrooge demanded. “I am the Ghost of Christmas Past.” “Long past?” inquired Scrooge: observant of its dwarfish stature. “No. Your past.” Perhaps, Scrooge could not have told anybody why, if anybody could have asked him; but he had a special desire to see the Spirit in his cap; and begged him to be covered. “What!” exclaimed the Ghost, “would you so soon put out, with worldly hands, the light I give? Is it not enough that you are one of those whose passions made this cap, and force me through whole trains of years to wear it low upon my brow!” Scrooge reverently disclaimed all intention to offend or any knowledge of having wilfully bonneted the Spirit at any period of his life. He then made bold to inquire what business brought him there. “Your welfare!” said the Ghost. Scrooge expressed himself much obliged, but could not help thinking that a night of unbroken rest would have been more conducive to that end. The Spirit must have heard him thinking, for it said immediately: “Your reclamation, then. Take heed!” It put out its strong hand as it spoke, and clasped him gently by the arm. “Rise! and walk with me!” It would have been in vain for Scrooge to plead that the weather and the hour were not adapted to pedestrian purposes; that bed was warm, and the thermometer a long way below freezing; that he was clad but lightly in his slippers, dressing-gown, and nightcap; and that he had a cold upon him at that time. The grasp, though gentle as a woman’s hand, was not to be resisted. He rose: but finding that the Spirit made towards the window, clasped his robe in supplication. “I am mortal,” Scrooge remonstrated, “and liable to fall.” “Bear but a touch of my hand there,” said the Spirit, laying it upon his heart, “and you shall be upheld in more than this!” As the words were spoken, they passed through the wall, and stood upon an open country road, with fields on either hand. The city had entirely vanished. Not a vestige of it was to be seen. The darkness and the mist had vanished with it, for it was a clear, cold, winter day, with snow upon the ground. “Good Heaven!” said Scrooge, clasping his hands together, as he looked about him. “I was bred in this place. I was a boy here!” The Spirit gazed upon him mildly. Its gentle touch, though it had been light and instantaneous, appeared still present to the old man’s sense of feeling. He was conscious of a thousand odours floating in the air, each one connected with a thousand thoughts, and hopes, and joys, and cares long, long, forgotten. “Your lip is trembling,” said the Ghost. “And what is that upon your cheek?” Scrooge muttered, with an unusual catching in his voice, that it was a pimple; and begged the Ghost to lead him where he would. “You recollect the way?” inquired the Spirit. “Remember it!” cried Scrooge with fervour; “I could walk it blindfold.” “Strange to have forgotten it for so many years!” observed the Ghost. “Let us go on.” They walked along the road; Scrooge recognising every gate, and post, and tree; until a little market-town appeared in the distance, with its bridge, its church, and winding river. Some shaggy ponies now were seen trotting towards them with boys upon their backs, who called to other boys in country gigs and carts, driven by farmers. All these boys were in great spirits, and shouted to each other, until the broad fields were so full of merry music, that the crisp air laughed to hear it. “These are but shadows of the things that have been,” said the Ghost. “They have no consciousness of us.” The jocund travellers came on; and as they came, Scrooge knew and named them every one. Why was he rejoiced beyond all bounds to see them! Why did his cold eye glisten, and his heart leap up as they went past! Why was he filled with gladness when he heard them give each other Merry Christmas, as they parted at cross-roads and bye-ways, for their several homes! What was merry Christmas to Scrooge? Out upon merry Christmas! What good had it ever done to him? “The school is not quite deserted,” said the Ghost. “A solitary child, neglected by his friends, is left there still.” Scrooge said he knew it. And he sobbed. They left the high-road, by a well-remembered lane, and soon approached a mansion of dull red brick, with a little weathercock-surmounted cupola, on the roof, and a bell hanging in it. It was a large house, but one of broken fortunes; for the spacious offices were little used, their walls were damp and mossy, their windows broken, and their gates decayed. Fowls clucked and strutted in the stables; and the coach-houses and sheds were over-run with grass. Nor was it more retentive of its ancient state, within; for entering the dreary hall, and glancing through the open doors of many rooms, they found them poorly furnished, cold, and vast. There was an earthy savour in the air, a chilly bareness in the place, which associated itself somehow with too much getting up by candle-light, and not too much to eat. They went, the Ghost and Scrooge, across the hall, to a door at the back of the house. It opened before them, and disclosed a long, bare, melancholy room, made barer still by lines of plain deal forms and desks. At one of these a lonely boy was reading near a feeble fire; and Scrooge sat down upon a form, and wept to see his poor forgotten self as he used to be. Not a latent echo in the house, not a squeak and scuffle from the mice behind the panneling, not a drip from the half-thawed water-spout in the dull yard behind, not a sigh among the leafless boughs of one despondent poplar, not the idle swinging of an empty store-house door, no, not a clicking in the fire, but fell upon the heart of Scrooge with a softening influence, and gave a freer passage to his tears. The Spirit touched him on the arm, and pointed to his younger self, intent upon his reading. Suddenly a man, in foreign garments: wonderfully real and distinct to look at: stood outside the window, with an axe stuck in his belt, and leading an ass laden with wood by the bridle. “Why, it’s Ali Baba! ” Scrooge exclaimed in ecstasy. “It’s dear old honest Ali Baba! Yes, yes, I know! One Christmas time, when yonder solitary child was left here all alone, he didcome, for the first time, just like that. Poor boy! And Valentine,” said Scrooge, “and his wild brother, Orson; there they go! And what’s his name, who was put down in his drawers, asleep, at the Gate of Damascus; don’t you see him! And the Sultan’s Groom turned upside-down by the Genii; there he is upon his head! Serve him right. I’m glad of it. What business had he to be married to the Princess!” To hear Scrooge expending all the earnestness of his nature on such subjects, in a most extraordinary voice between laughing and crying; and to see his heightened and excited face; would have been a surprise to his business friends in the city, indeed. “There’s the Parrot!” cried Scrooge. “Green body and yellow tail, with a thing like a lettuce growing out of the top of his head; there he is! Poor Robin Crusoe, he called him, when he came home again after sailing round the island. “Poor Robin Crusoe, where have you been, Robin Crusoe?” The man thought he was dreaming, but he wasn’t. It was the Parrot, you know. There goes Friday, running for his life to the little creek! Halloa! Hoop! Halloo!” Then, with a rapidity of transition very foreign to his usual character, he said, in pity for his former self, “Poor boy!” and cried again. “I wish,” Scrooge muttered, putting his hand in his pocket, and looking about him, after drying his eyes with his cuff: “but it’s too late now.” “What is the matter?” asked the Spirit. “Nothing,” said Scrooge. “Nothing. There was a boy singing a Christmas Carol at my door last night. I should like to have given him something: that’s all.” The Ghost smiled thoughtfully, and waved its hand: saying as it did so, “Let us see another Christmas!” Scrooge’s former self grew larger at the words, and the room became a little darker and more dirty. The panels shrunk, the windows cracked; fragments of plaster fell out of the ceiling, and the naked laths were shown instead; but how all this was brought about, Scrooge knew no more than you do. He only knew that it was quite correct; that everything had happened so; that there he was, alone again, when all the other boys had gone home for the jolly holidays. He was not reading now, but walking up and down despairingly. Scrooge looked at the Ghost, and with a mournful shaking of his head, glanced anxiously towards the door. It opened; and a little girl, much younger than the boy, came darting in, and putting her arms about his neck, and often kissing him, addressed him as her “Dear, dear brother.” “I have come to bring you home, dear brother!” said the child, clapping her tiny hands, and bending down to laugh. “To bring you home, home, home!” “Home, little Fan?” returned the boy. “Yes!” said the child, brimful of glee. “Home, for good and all. Home, for ever and ever. Father is so much kinder than he used to be, that home’s like Heaven! He spoke so gently to me one dear night when I was going to bed, that I was not afraid to ask him once more if you might come home; and he said Yes, you should; and sent me in a coach to bring you. And you’re to be a man!” said the child, opening her eyes, “and are never to come back here; but first, we’re to be together all the Christmas long, and have the merriest time in all the world.” “You are quite a woman, little Fan!” exclaimed the boy. She clapped her hands and laughed, and tried to touch his head; but being too little, laughed again, and stood on tiptoe to embrace him. Then she began to drag him, in her childish eagerness, towards the door; and he, nothing loth to go, accompanied her. A terrible voice in the hall cried. “Bring down Master Scrooge’s box, there! ” and in the hall appeared the schoolmaster himself, who glared on Master Scrooge with a ferocious condescension, and threw him into a dreadful state of mind by shaking hands with him. He then conveyed him and his sister into the veriest old well of a shivering best-parlour that ever was seen, where the maps upon the wall, and the celestial and terrestrial globes in the windows, were waxy with cold. Here he produced a decanter of curiously light wine, and a block of curiously heavy cake, and administered instalments of those dainties to the young people: at the same time, sending out a meagre servant to offer a glass of something to the postboy, who answered that he thanked the gentleman, but if it was the same tap as he had tasted before, he had rather not. Master Scrooge’s trunk being by this time tied on to the top of the chaise, the children bade the schoolmaster good-bye right willingly; and getting into it, drove gaily down the garden-sweep: the quick wheels dashing the hoar-frost and snow from off the dark leaves of the evergreens like spray. “Always a delicate creature, whom a breath might have withered,” said the Ghost. “But she had a large heart!” “So she had,” cried Scrooge. “You’re right, I will not gainsay it, Spirit. God forbid!” “She died a woman,” said the Ghost, “and had, as I think, children.” “One child,” Scrooge returned. “True,” said the Ghost. “Your nephew!” Scrooge seemed uneasy in his mind; and answered briefly, “Yes.” Although they had but that moment left the school behind them, they were now in the busy thoroughfares of a city, where shadowy passengers passed and repassed; where shadowy carts and coaches battle for the way, and all the strife and tumult of a real city were. It was made plain enough, by the dressing of the shops, that here too it was Christmas time again; but it was evening, and the streets were lighted up. The Ghost stopped at a certain warehouse door, and asked Scrooge if he knew it. “Know it!” said Scrooge. “Was I apprenticed here!” They went in. At sight of an old gentleman in a Welch wig, sitting behind such a high desk, that if he had been two inches taller he must have knocked his head against the ceiling, Scrooge cried in great excitement: “Why, it’s old Fezziwig! Bless his heart; it’s Fezziwig alive again!” Old Fezziwig laid down his pen, and looked up at the clock, which pointed to the hour of seven. He rubbed his hands; adjusted his capacious waistcoat; laughed all over himself, from his shows to his organ of benevolence; and called out in a comfortable, oily, rich, fat, jovial voice: “Yo ho, there! Ebenezer! Dick!” Scrooge’s former self, now grown a young man, came briskly in, accompanied by his fellow-‘prentice. “Dick Wilkins, to be sure!” said Scrooge to the Ghost. “Bless me, yes. There he is. He was very much attached to me, was Dick. Poor Dick! Dear, dear!” “Yo ho, my boys!” said Fezziwig. “No more work to-night. Christmas Eve, Dick. Christmas, Ebenezer! Let’s have the shutters up,” cried old Fezziwig, with a sharp clap of his hands, “before a man can say, Jack Robinson!” You wouldn’t believe how those two fellows went at it! They charged into the street with the shutters — one, two, three — had ’em up in their places — four, five, six — barred ’em and pinned ’em — seven, eight, nine — and came back before you could have got to twelve, panting like race-horses. “Hilli-ho!” cried old Fezziwig, skipping down from the high desk, with wonderful agility. “Clear away, my lads, and let’s have lots of room here! Hilli-ho, Dick! Chirrup, Ebenezer!” Clear away! There was nothing they wouldn’t have cleared away, or couldn’t have cleared away, with old Fezziwig looking on. It was done in a minute. Every movable was packed off, as if it were dismissed from public life for evermore; the floor was swept and watered, the lamps were trimmed, fuel was heaped upon the fire; and the warehouse was as snug, and warm, and dry, and bright a ball-room, as you would desire to see upon a winter’s night. In came a fiddler with a music-book, and went up to the lofty desk, and made an orchestra of it, and tuned like fifty stomach-aches. In came Mrs. Fezziwig, one vast substantial smile. In came the three Miss Fezziwigs, beaming and lovable. In came the six young followers whose hearts they broke. In came all the young men and women employed in the business. In came the housemaid, with her cousin, the baker. In came the cook, with her brother’s particular friend, the milkman. In came the boy from over the way, who was suspected of not having board enough from his master; trying to hide himself behind the girl from next door but one, who was proved to have had her ears pulled by her Mistress. In they all came, one after nother; some shyly, some boldly, some gracefully, some awkwardly, some pushing, some pulling; in they all came, anyhow and everyhow. Away they all went, twenty couple at once; hands half round and back again the other way; down the middle and up again; round and round in various stages of affectionate grouping; old top couple always turning up in the wrong place; new top couple starting off again, as soon as they got there; all top couples at last, and not a bottom one to help them. When this result was brought about, old Fezziwig, clapping his hands to stop the dance, cried out, “Well done!” and the fiddler plunged his hot face into a pot of porter, especially provided for that purpose. But scorning rest, upon his reappearance, he instantly began again, though there were no dancers yet, as if the other fiddler had been carried home, exhausted, on a shutter, and he were a bran-new man resolved to beat him out of sight, or perish. There were more dances, and there were forfeits, and more dances, and there was cake, and there was negus, and there was a great piece of Cold Roast, and there was a great piece of Cold Boiled, and there were mince-pies, and plenty of beer. But the great effect of the evening came after the Roast and Boiled, when the fiddler (an artful dog, mind! The sort of man who knew his business better than you or I could have told it him!) struck up “Sir Roger de Coverley.” Then old Fezziwig stood out to dance with Mrs. Fezziwig. Top couple, too; with a good stiff piece of work cut out for them; three or four and twenty pair of partners; people who were not to be trifled with; people who would dance, and had no notion of walking. But if they had been twice as many: ah, four times: old Fezziwig would have been a match for them, and so would Mrs. Fezziwig. As to her, she was worthy to be his partner in every sense of the term. If that’s not high praise, tell me higher, and I’ll use it. A positive light appeared to issue from Fezziwig’s calves. They shone in every part of the dance like moons. You couldn’t have predicted, at any given time, what would become of ’em next. And when old Fezziwig and Mrs. Fezziwig had gone all through the dance; advance and retire, hold hands with your partner, bow and curtsey; corkscrew; thread-the-needle, and back again to your place; Fezziwig cut — cut so deftly, that he appeared to wink with his legs, and came upon his feet again without a stagger. When the clock struck eleven, this domestic ball broke up. Mr and Mrs Fezziwig took their stations, one on either side of the door, and shaking hands with every person individually as he or she went out, wished him or her a Merry Christmas. When everybody had retired but the two ‘prentices, they did the same to them; and thus the cheerful voices died away, and the lads were left to their beds; which were under a counter in the back-shop. During the whole of this time, Scrooge had acted like a man out of his wits. His heart and soul were in the scene, and with his former self. He corroborated everything, remembered everything, enjoyed everything, and underwent the strangest agitation. It was not until now, when the bright faces of his former self and Dick were turned from them, that he remembered the Ghost, and became conscious that it was looking full upon him, while the light upon its head burnt very clear. “A small matter,” said the Ghost, “to make these silly folks so full of gratitude.” “Small!” echoed Scrooge. The Spirit signed to him to listen to the two apprentices, who were pouring out their hearts in praise of Fezziwig: and when he had done so, said, “Why! Is it not? He has spent but a few pounds of your mortal money: three or four perhaps. Is that so much that he deserves this praise?” “It isn’t that,” said Scrooge, heated by the remark, and speaking unconsciously like his former, not his latter, self. “It isn’t that, Spirit. He has the power to render us happy or unhappy; to make our service light or burdensome; a pleasure or a toil. Say that his power lies in words and looks; in things so slight and insignificant that it is impossible to add and count ’em up: what then? The happiness he gives, is quite as great as if it cost a fortune.” He felt the Spirit’s glance, and stopped. “What is the matter?” asked the Ghost. “Nothing particular,” said Scrooge. “Something, I think?” the Ghost insisted. “No,” said Scrooge, “No. I should like to be able to say a word or two to my clerk just now! That’s all.” His former self turned down the lamps as he gave utterance to the wish; and Scrooge and the Ghost again stood side by side in the open air. “My time grows short,” observed the Spirit. “Quick!” This was not addressed to Scrooge, or to any one whom he could see, but it produced an immediate effect. For again Scrooge saw himself. He was older now; a man in the prime of life. His face had not the harsh and rigid lines of later years; but it had begun to wear the signs of care and avarice. There was an eager, greedy, restless motion in the eye, which showed the passion that had taken root, and where the shadow of the growing tree would fall. He was not alone, but sat by the side of a fair young girl in a mourning-dress: in whose eyes there were tears, which sparkled in the light that shone out of the Ghost of Christmas Past. “It matters little,” she said, softly. “To you, very little. Another idol has displaced me; and if it can cheer and comfort you in time to come, as I would have tried to do, I have no just cause to grieve.” “What Idol has displaced you?” he rejoined. “A golden one.” “This is the even-handed dealing of the world!” he said. “There is nothing on which it is so hard as poverty; and there is nothing it professes to condemn with such severity as the pursuit of wealth!” “You fear the world too much,” she answered, gently. “All your other hopes have merged into the hope of being beyond the chance of its sordid reproach. I have seen your nobler aspirations fall off one by one, until the master-passion, Gain, engrosses you. Have I not?” “What then?” he retorted. “Even if I have grown so much wiser, what then? I am not changed towards you.” She shook her head. “Our contract is an old one. It was made when we were both poor and content to be so, until, in good season, we could improve our worldly fortune by our patient industry. You arechanged. When it was made, you were another man.” “I was a boy,” he said impatiently. “Your own feeling tells you that you were not what you are,” she returned. “I am. That which promised happiness when we were one in heart, is fraught with misery now that we are two. How often and how keenly I have thought of this, I will not say. It is enough that I have thought of it, and can release you.” “Have I ever sought release?” “In words. No. Never.” “In what, then?” “In a changed nature; in an altered spirit; in another atmosphere of life; another Hope as its great end. In everything that made my love of any worth or value in your sight. If this had never been between us,” said the girl, looking mildly, but with steadiness, upon him; “tell me, would you seek me out and try to win me now? Ah, no!” He seemed to yield to the justice of this supposition, in spite of himself. But he said with a struggle, “You think not.” “I would gladly think otherwise if I could,” she answered, “Heaven knows! When I have learned a Truth like this, I know how strong and irresistible it must be. But if you were free to-day, to-morrow, yesterday, can even I believe that you would choose a dowerless girl — you who, in your very confidence with her, weigh everything by Gain: or, choosing her, if for a moment you were false enough to your one guiding principle to do so, do I not know that your repentance and regret would surely follow? I do; and I release you. With a full heart, for the love of him you once were.” He was about to speak; but with her head turned from him, she resumed. “You may — the memory of what is past half makes me hope you will — have pain in this. A very, very brief time, and you will dismiss the recollection of it, gladly, as an unprofitable dream, from which it happened well that you awoke. May you be happy in the life you have chosen!” She left him, and they parted. “Spirit!” said Scrooge, “show me no more! Conduct me home. Why do you delight to torture me?” “One shadow more!” exclaimed the Ghost. “No more!” cried Scrooge. “No more. I don’t wish to see it. Show me no more!” But the relentless Ghost pinioned him in both his arms, and forced him to observe what happened next. They were in another scene and place; a room, not very large or handsome, but full of comfort. Near to the winter fire sat a beautiful young girl, so like that last that Scrooge believed it was the same, until he saw her, now a comely matron, sitting opposite her daughter. The noise in this room was perfectly tumultuous, for there were more children there, than Scrooge in his agitated state of mind could count; and, unlike the celebrated herd in the poem, they were not forty children conducting themselves like one, but every child was conducting itself like forty. The consequences were uproarious beyond belief; but no one seemed to care; on the contrary, the mother and daughter laughed heartily, and enjoyed it very much; and the latter, soon beginning to mingle in the sports, got pillaged by the young brigands most ruthlessly. What would I not have given to one of them! Though I never could have been so rude, no, no! I wouldn’t for the wealth of all the world have crushed that braided hair, and torn it down; and for the precious little shoe, I wouldn’t have plucked it off, God bless my soul! to save my life. As to measuring her waist in sport, as they did, bold young brood, I couldn’t have done it; I should have expected my arm to have grown round it for a punishment, and never come straight again. And yet I should have dearly liked, I own, to have touched her lips; to have questioned her, that she might have opened them; to have looked upon the lashes of her downcast eyes, and never raised a blush; to have let loose waves of hair, an inch of which would be a keepsake beyond price: in short, I should have liked, I do confess, to have had the lightest licence of a child, and yet to have been man enough to know its value. But now a knocking at the door was heard, and such a rush immediately ensued that she with laughing face and plundered dress was borne towards it the centre of a flushed and boisterous group, just in time to greet the father, who came home attended by a man laden with Christmas toys and presents. Then the shouting and the struggling, and the onslaught that was made on the defenceless porter! The scaling him, with chairs for ladders, to dive into his pockets, despoil him of brown-paper parcels, hold on tight by his cravat, hug him round the neck, pommel his back, and kick his legs in irrepressible affection! The shouts of wonder and delight with which the development of every package was received! The terrible announcement that the baby had been taken in the act of putting a doll’s frying-pan into his mouth, and was more than suspected of having swallowed a fictitious turkey, glued on a wooden platter! The immense relief of finding this a false alarm! The joy, and gratitude, and ecstasy! They are all indescribable alike. It is enough that by degrees the children and their emotions got out of the parlour, and by one stair at a time, up to the top of the house; where they went to bed, and so subsided. And now Scrooge looked on more attentively than ever, when the master of the house, having his daughter leaning fondly on him, sat down with her and her mother at his own fireside; and when he thought that such another creature, quite as graceful and as full of promise, might have called him father, and been a spring-time in the haggard winter of his life, his sight grew very dim indeed. “Belle,” said the husband, turning to his wife with a smile, “I saw an old friend of yours this afternoon.” “Who was it?” “How can I? Tut, don’t I know.” she added in the same breath, laughing as he laughed. “Mr Scrooge.” “Mr Scrooge it was. I passed his office window; and as it was not shut up, and he had a candle inside, I could scarcely help seeing him. His partner lies upon the point of death, I hear; and there he sat alone. Quite alone in the world, I do believe.” “Spirit!” said Scrooge in a broken voice, “remove me from this place.” “I told you these were shadows of the things that have been,” said the Ghost. “That they are what they are, do not blame me!” “Remove me!” Scrooge exclaimed, “I cannot bear it!” He turned upon the Ghost, and seeing that it looked upon him with a face, in which in some strange way there were fragments of all the faces it had shown him, wrestled with it. “Leave me! Take me back. Haunt me no longer!” In the struggle, if that can be called a struggle in which the Ghost with no visible resistance on its own part was undisturbed by any effort of its adversary, Scrooge observed that its light was burning high and bright; and dimly connecting that with its influence over him, he seized the extinguisher-cap, and by a sudden action pressed it down upon its head. The Spirit dropped beneath it, so that the extinguisher covered its whole form; but though Scrooge pressed it down with all his force, he could not hide the light, which streamed from under it, in an unbroken flood upon the ground. He was conscious of being exhausted, and overcome by an irresistible drowsiness; and, further, of being in his own bedroom. He gave the cap a parting squeeze, in which his hand relaxed; and had barely time to reel to bed, before he sank into a heavy sleep. Chapter 3 – The Second of the Three Spirits Awaking in the middle of a prodigiously tough snore, and sitting up in bed to get his thoughts together, Scrooge had no occasion to be told that the bell was again upon the stroke of One. He felt that he was restored to consciousness in the right nick of time, for the especial purpose of holding a conference with the second messenger despatched to him through Jacob Marley’s intervention. But, finding that he turned uncomfortably cold when he began to wonder which of his curtains this new spectre would draw back, he put them every one aside with his own hands; and lying down again, established a sharp look-out all round the bed. For he wished to challenge the Spirit on the moment of its appearance, and did not wish to be taken by surprise, and made nervous. Gentlemen of the free-and-easy sort, who plume themselves on being acquainted with a move or two, and being usually equal to the time-of-day, express the wide range of their capacity for adventure by observing that they are good for anything from pitch-and-toss to manslaughter; between which opposite extremes, no doubt, there lies a tolerably wide and comprehensive range of subjects. Without venturing for Scrooge quite as hardily as this, I don’t mind calling on you to believe that he was ready for a good broad field of strange appearances, and that nothing between a baby and rhinoceros would have astonished him very much. Now, being prepared for almost anything, he was not by any means prepared for nothing; and, consequently, when the Bell struck One, and no shape appeared, he was taken with a violent fit of trembling. Five minutes, ten minutes, a quater of an hour went by, yet nothing came. All this time, he lay upon his bed, the very core and centre of a blaze of ruddy light, which streamed upon it when the clock proclaimed the hour; and which, being only light, was more alarming than a dozen ghosts, as he was powerless to make out what it meant, or would be at; and was sometimes apprehensive that he might be at that very moment an interesting case of spontaneous combustion, without having the consolation of knowing it. At last, however, he began to think — as you or I would have thought at first; for it is always the person not in the predicament who knows what ought to have been done in it, and would unquestionably have done it too — at last, I say, he began to think that the source and secret of this ghostly light might be in the adjoining room, from whence, on further tracing it, it seemed to shine. This idea taking full possession of his mind, he got up softly and shuffled in his slippers to the door. The moment Scrooge’s hand was on the lock, a strange voice called him by his name, and bade him enter. He obeyed. It was his own room. There was no doubt about that. But it had undergone a surprising transformation. The walls and ceiling were so hung with living green, that it looked a perfect grove; from every part of which, bright gleaming berries glistened. The crisp leaves of holly, mistletoe, and ivy reflected back the light, as if so many little mirrors had been scattered there; and such a mighty blaze went roaring up the chimney, as that dull petrification of a hearth had never known in Scrooge’s time, or Marley’s, or for many and many a winter season gone. Heaped up on the floor, to form a kind of throne, were turkeys, geese, game, poultry, brawn, great joints of meat, sucking-pigs, long wreaths of sausages, mince-pies, plum-puddings, barrels of oysters, red-hot chesnuts, cherry-cheeked apples, juicy oranges, luscious pears, immense twelfth-cakes, and seething bowls of punch, that made the chamber dim with their delicious steam. In easy state upon this couch, there sat a jolly Giant, glorious to see: who bore a glowing torch, in shape not unlike Plenty’s horn, and held it up, high up, to shed its light on Scrooge, as he came peeping round the door. “Come in!” exclaimed the Ghost. “Come in. and know me better, man!” Scrooge entered timidly, and hung his head before this Spirit. He was not the dogged Scrooge he had been; and though the Spirit’s eyes were clear and kind, he did not like to meet them. “I am the Ghost of Christmas Present,” said the Spirit. “Look upon me!” Scrooge reverently did so. It was clothed in one simple green robe, or mantle, bordered with white fur. This garment hung so loosely on the figure, that its capacious breast was bare, as if disdaining to be warded or concealed by any artifice. Its feet, observable beneath the ample folds of the garment, were also bare; and on its head it wore no other covering than a holly wreath, set here and there with shining icicles. Its dark brown curls were long and free: free as its genial face, its sparkling eye, its open hand, its cheery voice, its unconstrained demeanour, and its joyful air. Girded round its middle was an antique scabbard; but no sword was in it, and the ancient sheath was eaten up with rust. “You have never seen the like of me before!” exclaimed the Spirit. “Never,” Scrooge made answer to it. “Have never walked forth with the younger members of my family; meaning (for I am very young) my elder brothers born in these later years?” pursued the Phantom. “I don’t think I have,” said Scrooge. “I am afraid I have not. Have you had many brothers, Spirit?” “More than eighteen hundred,” said the Ghost. “A tremendous family to provide for!” muttered Scrooge. The Ghost of Christmas Present rose. “Spirit,” said Scrooge submissively, “conduct me where you will. I went forth last night on compulsion, and I learnt a lesson which is working now. To-night, if you have aught to teach me, let me profit by it.” “Touch my robe!” Scrooge did as he was told, and held it fast. Holly, mistletoe, red berries, ivy, turkeys, geese, game, poultry, brawn, meat, pigs, sausages, oysters, pies, puddings, fruit, and punch, all vanished instantly. So did the room, the fire, the ruddy glow, the hour of night, and they stood in the city streets on Christmas morning, where (for the weather was severe) the people made a rough, but brisk and not unpleasant kind of music, in scraping the snow from the pavement in front of their dwellings, and from the tops of their houses: whence it was mad delight to the boys to see it come plumping down into the road below, and splitting into artificial little snow-storms. The house fronts looked black enough, and the windows blacker, contrasting with the smooth white sheet of snow upon the roofs, and with the dirtier snow upon the ground; which last deposit had been ploughed up in deep furrows by the heavy wheels of carts and waggons; furrows that crossed and recrossed each other hundreds of times where the great streets branched off; and made intricate channels, hard to trace in the thick yellow mud and icy water. The sky was gloomy, and the shortest streets were choked up with a dingy mist, half thawed, half frozen, whose heavier particles descended in shower of sooty atoms, as if all the chimneys in Great Britain had, by one consent, caught fire, and were blazing away to their dear hearts’ content. There was nothing very cheerful in the climate or the town, and yet was there an air of cheerfulness abroad that the clearest summer air and brightest summer sun might have endeavoured to diffuse in vain. For the people who were shovelling away on the housetops were jovial and full of glee; calling out to one another from the parapets, and now and then exchanging a facetious snowball — better-natured missile far than many a wordy jest — laughing heartily if it went right and not less heartily if it went wrong. The poulterers’ shops were still half open, and the fruiterers’ were radiant in their glory. There were great, round, pot-bellied baskets of chesnuts, shaped like the waistcoats of jolly old gentlemen, lolling at the doors, and tumbling out into the street in their apoplectic opulence. There were ruddy, brown-faced, broad-girthed Spanish Onions, shining in the fatness of their growth like Spanish Friars, and winking from their shelves in wanton slyness at the girls as they went by, and glanced demurely at the hung-up mistletoe. There were pears and apples, clustered high in blooming pyramids; there were bunches of grapes, made, in the shopkeepers’ benevolence to dangle from conspicuous hooks, that people’s mouths might water gratis as they passed; there were piles of filberts, mossy and brown, recalling, in their fragrance, ancient walks among the woods, and pleasant shufflings ankle deep through withered leaves; there were Norfolk Biffins, squab and swarthy, setting off the yellow of the oranges and lemons, and, in the great compactness of their juicy persons, urgently entreating and beseeching to be carried home in paper bags and eaten after dinner. The very gold and silver fish, set forth among these choice fruits in a bowl, though members of a dull and stagnant-blooded race, appeared to know that there was something going on; and, to a fish, went gasping round and round their little world in slow and passionless excitement. The Grocers’! oh the Grocers’! nearly closed, with perhaps two shutters down, or one; but through those gaps such glimpses! It was not alone that the scales descending on the counter made a merry sound, or that the twine and roller parted company so briskly, or that the canisters were rattled up and down like juggling tricks, or even that the blended scents of tea and coffee were so grateful to the nose, or even that the raisins were so plentiful and rare, the almonds so extremely white, the sticks of cinnamon so long and straight, the other spices so delicious, the candied fruits so caked and spotted with molten sugar as to make the coldest lookers-on feel faint and subsequently bilious. Nor was it that the figs were moist and pulpy, or that the French plums blushed in modest tartness from their highly-decorated boxes, or that everything was good to eat and in its Christmas dress; but the customers were all so hurried and so eager in the hopeful promise of the day, that they tumbled up against each other at the door, crashing their wicker baskets wildly, and left their purchases upon the counter, and came running back to fetch them, and committed hundreds of the like mistakes, in the best humour possible; while the Grocer and his people were so frank and fresh that the polished hearts with which they fastened their aprons behind might have been their own, worn outside for general inspection, and for Christmas daws to peck at if they chose. But soon the steeples called good people all, to church and chapel, and away they came, flocking through the streets in their best clothes, and with their gayest faces. And at the same time there emerged from scores of bye-streets, lanes, and nameless turnings, innumerable people, carrying their dinners to the baker’ shops. The sight of these poor revellers appeared to interest the Spirit very much, for he stood with Scrooge beside him in a baker’s doorway, and taking off the covers as their bearers passed, sprinkled incense on their dinners from his torch. And it was a very uncommon kind of torch, for once or twice when there were angry words between some dinner-carriers who had jostled each other, he shed a few drops of water on them from it, and their good humour was restored directly. For they said, it was a shame to quarrel upon Christmas Day. And so it was! God love it, so it was! In time the bells ceased, and the bakers’ were shut up; and yet there was a genial shadowing forth of all these dinners and the progress of their cooking, in the thawed blotch of wet above each baker’s oven; where the pavement smoked as if its stones were cooking too. “Is there a peculiar flavour in what you sprinkle from your torch?” asked Scrooge. “There is. My own.” “Would it apply to any kind of dinner on this day?” asked Scrooge. “To any kindly given. To a poor one most.” “Why to a poor one most?” asked Scrooge. “Because it needs it most.” “Spirit,” said Scrooge, after a moment’s thought, “I wonder you, of all the beings in the many worlds about us, should desire to cramp these people’s opportunities of innocent enjoyment.” “I!” cried the Spirit. “You would deprive them of their means of dining every seventh day, often the only day on which they can be said to dine at all,” said Scrooge. “Wouldn’t you?” “I!” cried the Spirit. “You seek to close these places on the Seventh Day?” said Scrooge. “And it comes to the same thing.” “I seek!” exclaimed the Spirit. “Forgive me if I am wrong. It has been done in your name, or at least in that of your family,” said Scrooge. “There are some upon this earth of yours,” returned the Spirit, “who lay claim to know us, and who do their deeds of passion, pride, ill-will, hatred, envy, bigotry, and selfishness in our name, who are as strange to us and all out kith and kin, as if they had never lived. Remember that, and charge their doings on themselves, not us.” Scrooge promised that he would; and they went on, invisible, as they had been before, into the suburbs of the town. It was a remarkable quality of the Ghost (which Scrooge had observed at the baker’s), that notwithstanding his gigantic size, he could accommodate himself to any place with ease; and that he stood beneath a low roof quite as gracefully and like a supernatural creature, as it was possible he could have done in any lofty hall. And perhaps it was the pleasure the good Spirit had in showing off this power of his, or else it was his own kind, generous, hearty nature, and his sympathy with all poor men, that led him straight to Scrooge’s clerk’s; for there he went, and took Scrooge with him, holding to his robe; and on the threshold of the door the Spirit smiled, and stopped to bless Bob Cratchit’s dwelling with the sprinkling of his torch. Think of that! Bob had but fifteen bob a-week himself; he pocketed on Saturdays but fifteen copies of his Christian name; and yet the Ghost of Christmas Present blessed his four-roomed house! Then up rose Mrs Cratchit, Cratchit’s wife, dressed out but poorly in a twice-turned gown, but brave in ribbons, which are cheap and make a goodly show for sixpence; and she laid the cloth, assisted by Belinda Cratchit, second of her daughters, also brave in ribbons; while Master Peter Cratchit plunged a fork into the saucepan of potatoes, and getting the corners of his monstrous shirt collar (Bob’s private property, conferred upon his son and heir in honour of the day) into his mouth, rejoiced to find himself so gallantly attired, and yearned to show his linen in the fashionable Parks. And now two smaller Cratchits, boy and girl, came tearing in, screaming that outside the baker’s they had smelt the goose, and known it for their own; and basking in luxurious thoughts of sage-and-onion, these young Cratchits danced about the table, and exalted Master Peter Cratchit to the skies, while he (not proud, although his collars nearly choked him) blew the fire, until the slow potatoes bubbling up, knocked loudly at the saucepan-lid to be let out and peeled. “What has ever got your precious father then.” said Mrs Cratchit. “And your brother, Tiny Tim! And Martha warn’t as late last Christmas Day by half-an-hour!” “Here’s Martha, mother!” said a girl, appearing as she spoke. “Here’s Martha, mother!” cried the two young Cratchits. “Hurrah! There’s such a goose, Martha!” “Why, bless your heart alive, my dear, how late you are!” said Mrs Cratchit, kissing her a dozen times, and taking off her shawl and bonnet for her with officious zeal. “We’d a deal of work to finish up last night,” replied the girl, “and had to clear away this morning, mother!” “Well! Never mind so long as you are come,” said Mrs Cratchit. “Sit ye down before the fire, my dear, and have a warm, Lord bless ye!” “No, no! There’s father coming,” cried the two young Cratchits, who were everywhere at once. “Hide, Martha, hide!” So Martha hid herself, and in came little Bob, the father, with at least three feet of comforter exclusive of the fringe, hanging down before him; and his threadbare clothes darned up and brushed, to look seasonable; and Tiny Tim upon his shoulder. Alas for Tiny Tim, he bore a little crutch, and had his limbs supported by an iron frame! “Why, where’s our Martha?” cried Bob Cratchit, looking round. “Not coming,” said Mrs Cratchit. “Not coming!” said Bob, with a sudden declension in his high spirits; for he had been Tim’s blood horse all the way from church, and had come home rampant. “Not coming upon Christmas Day!” Martha didn’t like to see him disappointed, if it were only in joke; so she came out prematurely from behind the closet door, and ran into his arms, while the two young Cratchits hustled Tiny Tim, and bore him off into the wash-house, that he might hear the pudding singing in the copper. “And how did little Tim behave?” asked Mrs Cratchit, when she had rallied Bob on his credulity and Bob had hugged his daughter to his heart’s content. “As good as gold,” said Bob, “and better. Somehow he gets thoughtful, sitting by himself so much, and thinks the strangest things you ever heard. He told me, coming home, that he hoped the people saw him in the church, because he was a cripple, and it might be pleasant to them to remember upon Christmas Day, who made lame beggars walk, and blind men see.” Bob’s voice was tremulous when he told them this, and trembled more when he said that Tiny Tim was growing strong and hearty. His active little crutch was heard upon the floor, and back came Tiny Tim before another word was spoken, escorted by his brother and sister to his stool before the fire; and while Bob, turning up his cuffs — as if, poor fellow, they were capable of being made more shabby — compounded some hot mixture in a jug with gin and lemons, and stirred it round and round and put it on the hob to simmer; Master Peter, and the two ubiquitous young Cratchits went to fetch the goose, with which they soon returned in high procession. Such a bustle ensued that you might have thought a goose the rarest of all birds; a feathered phenomenon, to which a black swan was a matter of course; and in truth it was something very like it in that house. Mrs Cratchit made the gravy (ready beforehand in a little saucepan) hissing hot; Master Peter mashed the potatoes with incredible vigour; Miss Belinda sweetened up the apple-sauce; Martha dusted the hot plates; Bob took Tiny Tim beside him in a tiny corner at the table; the two young Cratchits set chairs for everybody, not forgetting themselves, and mounting guard upon their posts, crammed spoons into their mouths, lest they should shriek for goose before their turn came to be helped. At last the dishes were set on, and grace was said. It was succeeded by a breathless pause, as Mrs Cratchit, looking slowly all along the carving-knife, prepared to plunge it in the breast; but when she did, and when the long expected gush of stuffing issued forth, one murmur of delight arose all round the board, and even Tiny Tim, excited by the two young Cratchits, beat on the table with the handle of his knife, and feebly cried Hurrah! There never was such a goose. Bob said he didn’t believe there ever was such a goose cooked. Its tenderness and flavour, size and cheapness, were the themes of universal admiration. Eked out by apple-sauce and mashed potatoes, it was a sufficient dinner for the whole family; indeed, as Mrs Cratchit said with great delight (surveying one small atom of a bone upon the dish), they hadn’t ate it all at last! Yet every one had had enough, and the youngest Cratchits in particular, were steeped in sage and onion to the eyebrows! But now, the plates being changed by Miss Belinda, Mrs Cratchit left the room alone — too nervous to bear witnesses — to take the pudding up, and bring it in. Suppose it should not be done enough! Suppose it should break in turning out! Suppose somebody should have got over the wall of the back-yard, and stolen it, while they were merry with the goose: a supposition at which the two young Cratchits became livid! All sorts of horrors were supposed. Hallo! A great deal of steam! The pudding was out of the copper. A smell like a washing-day! That was the cloth. A smell like an eating-house and a pastrycook’s next door to each other, with a laundress’s next door to that! That was the pudding. In half a minute Mrs Cratchit entered: flushed, but smiling proudly: with the pudding, like a speckled cannon-ball, so hard and firm, blazing in half of half-a-quartern of ignited brandy, and bedight with Christmas holly stuck into the top. Oh, a wonderful pudding! Bob Cratchit said, and calmly too, that he regarded it as the greatest success achieved by Mrs Cratchit since their marriage. Mrs Cratchit said that now the weight was off her mind, she would confess she had had her doubts about the quantity of flour. Everybody had something to say about it, but nobody said or thought it was at all a small pudding for a large family. It would have been flat heresy to do so. Any Cratchit would have blushed to hint at such a thing. At last the dinner was all done, the cloth was cleared, the hearth swept, and the fire made up. The compound in the jug being tasted, and considered perfect, apples and oranges were put upon the table, and a shovel-full of chesnuts on the fire. Then all the Cratchit family drew round the hearth, in what Bob Cratchit called a circle, meaning half a one; and at Bob Cratchit’s elbow stood the family display of glass; two tumblers, and a custard-cup without a handle. These held the hot stuff from the jug, however, as well as golden goblets would have done; and Bob served it out with beaming looks, while the chesnuts on the fire sputtered and cracked noisily. Then Bob proposed: “A Merry Christmas to us all, my dears. God bless us!” Which all the family re-echoed. “God bless us every one!” said Tiny Tim, the last of all. He sat very close to his father’s side upon his little stool. Bob held his withered little hand in his, as if he loved the child, and wished to keep him by his side, and dreaded that he might be taken from him. “Spirit,” said Scrooge, with an interest he had never felt before, “tell me if Tiny Tim will live.” “I see a vacant seat,” replied the Ghost, “in the poor chimney-corner, and a crutch without an owner, carefully preserved. If these shadows remain unaltered by the Future, the child will die.” “No, no,” said Scrooge. “Oh, no, kind Spirit! say he will be spared.” “If these shadows remain unaltered by the Future, none other of my race,” returned the Ghost, “will find him here. What then? If he be like to die, he had better do it, and decrease the surplus population.” Scrooge hung his head to hear his wn words quoted by the Spirit, and was overcome with penitence and grief. “Man,” said the Ghost, “if man you be in heart, not adamant, forbear that wicked cant until you have discovered What the surplus is, and Where it is. Will you decide what men shall live, what men shall die? It may be, that in the sight of Heaven, you are more worthless and less fit to live than millions like this poor man’s child. Oh God! to hear the Insect on the leaf pronouncing on the too much life among his hungry brothers in the dust!” Scrooge bent before the Ghost’s rebuke, and trembling cast his eyes upon the ground. But he raised them speedily, on hearing his own name. “Mr Scrooge!” said Bob; “I’ll give you Mr Scrooge, the Founder of the Feast!” “The Founder of the Feast indeed!” cried Mrs Cratchit, reddening. “I wish I had him here. I’d give him a piece of my mind to feast upon, and I hope he’d have a good appetite for it.” “My dear,” said Bob, “the children; Christmas Day.” “It should be Christmas Day, I am sure,” said she, “on which one drinks the health of such an odious, stingy, hard, unfeeling man as Mr Scrooge. You know he is, Robert! Nobody knows it better than you do, poor fellow!” “My dear,” was Bob’s mild answer, “Christmas Day.” “I’ll drink his health for your sake and the Day’s,”said Mrs Cratchit, “not for his. Long life to him. A merry Christmas and a happy new year! He’ll be very merry and very happy, I have no doubt!” The children drank the toast after her. It was the first of their proceedings which had no heartiness. Tiny Tim drank it last of all, but he didn’t care twopence for it. Scrooge was the Ogre of the family. The mention of his name cast a dark shadow on the party, which was not dispelled for full five minutes. After it had passed away, they were ten times merrier than before, from the mere relief of Scrooge the Baleful being done with. Bob Cratchit told them how he had a situation in his eye for Master Peter, which would bring in, if obtained, full five-and-sixpence weekly. The two young Cratchits laughed tremendously at the idea of Peter’s being a man of business; and Peter himself looked thoughtfully at the fire from between his collars, as if he were deliberating what particular investments he should favour when he came into the receipt of that bewildering income. Martha, who was a poor apprentice at a milliner’s, then told them what kind of work she had to do, and how many hours she worked at a stretch, and how she meant to lie a-bed to-morrow morning for a good long rest; to-morrow being a holiday she passed at home. Also how she had seen a countess and a lord some days before, and how the lord “was much about as tall as Peter;” at which Peter pulled up his collars so high that you couldn’t have seen his head if you had been there. All this time the chesnuts and the jug went round and round; and bye and bye they had a song, about a lost child travelling in the snow, from Tiny Tim; who had a plaintive little voice, and sang it very well indeed. There was nothing of high mark in this. They were not a handsome family; they were not well dressed; their shoes were far from being water-proof; their clothes were scanty; and Peter might have known, and very likely did, the inside of a pawnbroker’s. But, they were happy, grateful, pleased with one another, and contented with the time; and when they faded, and looked happier yet in the bright sprinklings of the Spirit’s torch at parting, Scrooge had his eye upon them, and especially on Tiny Tim, until the last. By this time it was getting dark, and snowing pretty heavily; and as Scrooge and the Spirit went along the streets, the brightness of the roaring fires in kitchens, parlours, and all sorts of rooms, was wonderful. Here, the flickering of the blaze showed preparations for a cosy dinner, with hot plates baking through and through before the fire, and deep red curtains, ready to be drawn to shut out cold and darkness. There all the children of the house were running out into the snow to meet their married sisters, brothers, cousins, uncles, aunts, and be the first to greet them. Here, again, were shadows on the window-blind of guests assembling; and there a group of handsome girls, all hooded and fur-booted, and all chattering at once, tripped lightly off to some near neighbour’s house; where, woe upon the single man who saw them enter — artful witches, well they knew it — in a glow! But, if you had judged from the numbers of people on their way to friendly gatherings, you might have thought that no one was at home to give them welcome when they got there, instead of every house expecting company, and piling up its fires half-chimney high. Blessings on it, how the Ghost exulted! How it bared its breadth of breast, and opened its capacious palm, and floated on, outpouring, with a generous hand, its bright and harmless mirth on everything within its reach! The very lamplighter, who ran on before, dotting the dusky street with specks of light, and who was dressed to spend the evening somewhere, laughed out loudly as the Spirit passed: though little kenned the lamplighter that he had any company but Christmas! And now, without a word of warning from the Ghost, they stood upon a bleak and desert moor, where monstrous masses of rude stone were cast about, as though it were the burial-place of giants; and water spread itself wheresoever it listed; or would have done so, but for the frost that held it prisoner; and nothing grew but moss and furze, and coarse, rank grass. Down in the west the setting sun had left a streak of fiery red, which glared upon the desolation for an instant, like a sullen eye, and frowning lower, lower, lower yet, was lost in the thick gloom of darkest night. “What place is this?” asked Scrooge. “A place where Miners live, who labour in the bowels of the earth,” returned the Spirit. “But they know me. See!” A light shone from the window of a hut, and swiftly they advanced towards it. Passing through the wall of mud and stone, they found a cheerful company assembled round a glowing fire. An old, old man and woman, with their children and their children’s children, and another generation beyond that, all decked out gaily in their holiday attire. The old man, in a voice that seldom rose above the howling of the wind upon the barren waste, was singing them a Christmas song : it had been a very old song when he was a boy; and from time to time they all joined in the chorus. So surely as they raised their voices, the old man got quite blithe and loud; and so surely as they stopped, his vigour sank again. The Spirit did not tarry here, but bade Scrooge hold his robe, and passing on above the moor, sped whither? Not to sea? To sea. To Scrooge’s horror, looking back, he saw the last of the land, a frightful range of rocks, behind them; and his ears were deafened by the thundering of water, as it rolled, and roared, and raged among the dreadful caverns it had worn, and fiercely tried to undermine the earth. Built upon a dismal reef of sunken rocks, some league or so from shore, on which the waters chafed and dashed, the wild year through, there stood a solitary lighthouse. Great heaps of sea-weed clung to its base, and storm-birds — born of the wind one might suppose, as sea-weed of the water — rose and fell about it, like the waves they skimmed. But even here, two men who watched the light had made a fire, that through the loophole in the thick stone wall shed out a ray of brightness on the awful sea. Joining their horny hands over the rough table at which they sat, they wished each other Merry Christmas in their can of grog; and one of them: the elder, too, with his face all damaged and scarred with hard weather, as the figure-head of an old ship might be: struck up a sturdy song that was like a Gale in itself. Again the Ghost sped on, above the black and heaving sea — on, on — until, being far away, as he told Scrooge, from any shore, they lighted on a ship. They stood beside the helmsman at the wheel, the look-out in the bow, the officers who had the watch; dark, ghostly figures in their several stations; but every man among them hummed a Christmas tune, or had a Christmas thought, or spoke below his breath to his companion of some bygone Christmas Day, with homeward hopes belonging to it. And every man on board, waking or sleeping, good or bad, had had a kinder word for another on that day than on any day in the year; and had shared to some extent in its festivities; and had remembered those he cared for at a distance, and had known that they delighted to remember him. It was a great surprise to Scrooge, while listening to the moaning of the wind, and thinking what a solemn thing it was to move on through the lonely darkness over an unknown abyss, whose depths were secrets as profound as Death: it was a great surprise to Scrooge, while thus engaged, to hear a hearty laugh. It was a much greater surprise to Scrooge to recognise it as his own nephew’s and to find himself in a bright, dry, gleaming room, with the Spirit standing smiling by his side, and looking at that same nephew with approving affability! “Ha, ha!” laughed Scrooge’s nephew. “Ha, ha, ha!” If you should happen, by any unlikely chance, to know a man more blest in a laugh than Scrooge’s nephew, all I can say is, I should like to know him too. Introduce him to me, and I’ll cultivate his acquaintance. It is a fair, even-handed, noble adjustment of things, that while there is infection in disease and sorrow, there is nothing in the world so irresistibly contagious as laughter and good-humour. When Scrooge’s nephew laughed in this way: holding his sides, rolling his head, and twisting his face into the most extravagant contortions: Scrooge’s niece, by marriage, laughed as heartily as he. And their assembled friends being not a bit behindhand, roared out lustily. “Ha, ha! Ha, ha, ha, ha!” “He said that Christmas was a humbug, as I live!” cried Scrooge’s nephew. “He believed it too!” “More shame for him, Fred!” said Scrooge’s niece, indignantly. Bless those women; they never do anything by halves. They are always in earnest. She was very pretty: exceedingly pretty. With a dimpled, surprised-looking, capital face; a ripe little mouth, that seemed made to be kissed — as no doubt it was; all kinds of good little dots about her chin, that melted into one another when she laughed; and the sunniest pair of eyes you ever saw in any little creature’s head. Altogether she was what you would have called provoking, you know; but satisfactory, too. Oh, perfectly satisfactory! “He’s a comical old fellow,” said Scrooge’s nephew, “that’s the truth: and not so pleasant as he might be. However, his offences carry their own punishment, and I have nothing to say against him.” “I’m sure he is very rich, Fred,” hinted Scrooge’s niece. “At least you always tell me so.” “What of that, my dear!” said Scrooge’s nephew. “His wealth is of no use to him. He don’t do any good with it. He don’t make himself comfortable with it. He hasn’t the satisfaction of thinking — ha, ha, ha! — that he is ever going to benefit Us with it.” “I have no patience with him,” observed Scrooge’s niece. Scrooge’s niece’s sisters, and all the other ladies, expressed the same opinion. “Oh, I have!” said Scrooge’s nephew. “I am sorry for him; I couldn’t be angry with him if I tried. Who suffers by his ill whims? Himself, always. Here, he takes it into his head to dislike us, and he won’t come and dine with us. What’s the consequence? He don’t lose much of a dinner.” “Indeed, I think he loses a very good dinner,” interrupted Scrooge’s niece. Everybody else said the same, and they must be allowed to have been competent judges, because they had just had dinner; and, with the dessert upon the table, were clustered round the fire, by lamplight. “Well! I’m very glad to hear it,” said Scrooge’s nephew, “because I haven’t great faith in these young housekeepers. What do you say, Topper?” Topper had clearly got his eye upon one of Scrooge’s niece’s sisters, for he answered that a bachelor was a wretched outcast, who had no right to express an opinion on the subject. Whereat Scrooge’s niece’s sister — the plump one with the lace tucker: not the one with the roses — blushed. “Do go on, Fred,” said Scrooge’s niece, clapping her hands. “He never finishes what he begins to say. He is such a ridiculous fellow!” Scrooge’s nephew revelled in another laugh, and as it was impossible to keep the infection off; though the plump sister tried hard to do it with aromatic vinegar; his example was unanimously followed. “I was only going to say,” said Scrooge’s nephew, “that the consequence of his taking a dislike to us, and not making merry with us, is, as I think, that he loses some pleasant moments, which could do him no harm. I am sure he loses pleasanter companions than he can find in his own thoughts, either in his mouldy old office, or his dusty chambers. I mean to give him the same chance every year, whether he likes it or not, for I pity him. He may rail at Christmas till he dies, but he can’t help thinking better of it — I defy him — if he finds me going there, in good temper, year after year, and saying Uncle Scrooge, how are you? If it only puts him in the vein to leave his poor clerk fifty pounds, that’s something; and I think I shook him yesterday.” It was their turn to laugh now at the notion of his shaking Scrooge. But being thoroughly good-natured, and not much caring what they laughed at, so that they laughed at any rate, he encouraged them in their merriment, and passed the bottle joyously. After tea, they had some music. For they were a musical family, and knew what they were about, when they sung a Glee or Catch, I can assure you: especially Topper, who could growl away in the bass like a good one, and never swell the large veins in his forehead, or get red in the face over it. Scrooge’s niece played well upon the harp; and played among other tunes a simple little air (a mere nothing: you might learn to whistle it in two minutes), which had been familiar to the child who fetched Scrooge from the boarding-school, as he had been reminded by the Ghost of Christmas Past. When this strain of music sounded, all the things that Ghost had shown him, came upon his mind; he softened more and more; and thought that if he could have listened to it often, years ago, he might have cultivated the kindnesses of life for his own happiness with his own hands, without resorting to the sexton’s spade that buried Jacob Marley. But they didn’t devote the whole evening to music. After a while they played at forfeits; for it is good to be children sometimes, and never better than at at Christmas, when its mighty Founder was a child himself. Stop! There was first a game at blind-man’s buff. Of course there was. And I no more believe Topper was really blind than I believe he had eyes in his boots. My opinion is, that it was a done thing between him and Scrooge’s nephew; and that the Ghost of Christmas Present knew it. The way he went after that plump sister in the lace tucker, was an outrage on the credulity of human nature. Knocking down the fire-irons, tumbling over the chairs, bumping against the piano, smothering himself among the curtains, wherever she went, there went he. He always knew where the plump sister was. He wouldn’t catch anybody else. If you had fallen up against him (as some of them did), on purpose, he would have made a feint of endeavouring to seize you, which would have been an affront to your understanding, and would instantly have sidled off in the direction of the plump sister. She often cried out that it wasn’t fair; and it really was not. But when at last, he caught her; when, in spite of all her silken rustlings, and her rapid flutterings past him, he got her into a corner whence there was no escape; then his conduct was the most execrable. For his pretending not to know her; his pretending that it was necessary to touch her head-dress, and further to assure himself of her identity by pressing a certain ring upon her finger, and a certain chain about her neck; was vile, monstrous. No doubt she told him her opinion of it, when, another blind-man being in office, they were so very confidential together, behind the curtains. Scrooge’s niece was not one of the blind-man’s buff party, but was made comfortable with a large chair and a footstool, in a snug corner, where the Ghost and Scrooge were close behind her. But she joined in the forfeits, and loved her love to admiration with all the letters of the alphabet. Likewise at the game of How, When, and Where, she was very great, and to the secret joy of Scrooge’s nephew, beat her sisters hollow: though they were sharp girls too, as Topper could have told you. There might have been twenty people there, young and old, but they all played, and so did Scrooge; for, wholly forgetting in the interest he had in what was going on, that his voice made no sound in their ears, he sometimes came out with his guess quite loud, and vey often guessed quite right, too; for the sharpest needle, best Whitechapel, warranted not to cut in the eye, was not sharper than Scrooge; blunt as he took it in his head to be. The Ghost was greatly pleased to find him in this mood, and looked upon him with such favour, that he begged like a boy to be allowed to stay until the guests departed. But this the Spirit said could not be done. “Here is a new game,” said Scrooge. “One half hour, Spirit, only one!” It was a Game called Yes and No, where Scrooge’s nephew had to think of something, and the rest must find out what; he only answering to their questions yes or no, as the case was. The brisk fire of questioning to which he was exposed, elicited from him that he was thinking of an animal, a live animal, rather a disagreeable animal, a savage animal, an animal that growled and grunted sometimes, and talked sometimes, and lived in London, and walked about the streets, and wasn’t made a show of, and wasn’t led by anybody, and didn’t live in a menagerie, and was never killed in a market, and was not a horse, or an ass, or a cow, or a bull, or a tiger, or a dog, or a pig, or a cat, or a bear. At every fresh question that was put to him, this nephew burst into a fresh roar of laughter; and was so inexpressibly tickled, that he was obliged to get up off the sofa and stamp. At last the plump sister, falling into a similar state, cried out: “I have found it out! I know what it is, Fred! I know what it is!” “What is it?” cried Fred. “It’s your Uncle Scro-o-o-o-oge!” Which it certainly was. Admiration was the universal sentiment, though some objected that the reply to “Is it a bear?” ought to have been “Yes;” inasmuch as an answer in the negative was sufficient to have diverted their thoughts from Mr Scrooge, supposing they had ever had any tendency that way. “He has given us plenty of merriment, I am sure,” said Fred, “and it would be ungrateful not to drink his health. Here is a glass of mulled wine ready to our hand at the moment; and I say, “Uncle Scrooge!”” “Well! Uncle Scrooge.” they cried. “A Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to the old man, whatever he is!” said Scrooge’s nephew. “He wouldn’t take it from me, but may he have it, nevertheless. Uncle Scrooge!” Uncle Scrooge had imperceptibly become so gay and light of heart, that he would have pledged the unconscious company in return, and thanked them in an inaudible speech, if the Ghost had given him time. But the whole scene passed off in the breath of the last word spoken by his nephew; and he and the Spirit were again upon their travels. Much they saw, and far they went, and many homes they visited, but always with a happy end. The Spirit stood beside sick beds, and they were cheerful; on foreign lands, and they were close at home; by struggling men, and they were patient in their greater hope; by poverty, and it was rich. In almshouse, hospital, and jail, in misery’s every refuge, where vain man in his little brief authority had not made fast the door and barred the Spirit out, he left his blessing, and taught Scrooge his precepts. It was a long night, if it were only a night; but Scrooge had his doubts of this, because the Christmas Holidays appeared to be condensed into the space of time they passed together. It was strange, too, that while Scrooge remained unaltered in his outward form, the Ghost grew older, clearly older. Scrooge had observed this change, but never spoke of it, until they left a children’s Twelfth Night party, when, looking at the Spirit as they stood together in an open place, he noticed that its hair was grey. “Are spirits’ lives so short?” asked Scrooge. “My life upon this globe, is very brief,” replied the Ghost. “It ends to-night.” “To-night!” cried Scrooge. “To-night at midnight. Hark! The time is drawing near.” The chimes were ringing the three quarters past eleven at that moment. “Forgive me if I am not justified in what I ask,” said Scrooge, looking intently at the Spirit’s robe, “but I see something strange, and not belonging to yourself, protruding from your skirts. Is it a foot or a claw!” “It might be a claw, for the flesh there is upon it,” was the Spirit’s sorrowful reply. “Look here.” From the foldings of its robe, it brought two children; wretched, abject, frightful, hideous, miserable. They knelt down at its feet, and clung upon the outside of its garment. “Oh, Man! look here. Look, look, down here!” exclaimed the Ghost. They were a boy and girl. Yellow, meagre, ragged, scowling, wolfish; but prostrate, too, in their humility. Where graceful youth should have filled their features out, and touched them with its freshest tints, a stale and shrivelled hand, like that of age, had pinched, and twisted them, and pulled them into shreds. Where angels might have sat enthroned, devils lurked, and glared out menacing. No change, no degradation, no perversion of humanity, in any grade, through all the mysteries of wonderful creation, has monsters half so horrible and dread. Scrooge started back, appalled. Having them shown to him in this way, he tried to say they were fine children, but the words choked themselves, rather than be parties to a lie of such enormous magnitude. “Spirit! are they yours?” Scrooge could say no more. “They are Man’s,” said the Spirit, looking down upon them. “And they cling to me, appealing from their fathers. This boy is Ignorance. This girl is Want. Beware them both, and all of their degree, but most of all beware this boy, for on his brow I see that written which is Doom, unless the writing be erased. Deny it!” cried the Spirit, stretching out its hand towards the city. “Slander those who tell it ye! Admit it for your factious purposes, and make it worse! And bide the end!” “Have they no refuge or resource?” cried Scrooge. “Are there no prisons?” said the Spirit, turning on him for the last time with his own words. “Are there no workhouses?” The bell struck twelve. Scrooge looked about him for the Ghost, and saw it not. As the last stroke ceased to vibrate, he remembered the prediction of old Jacob Marley, and lifting up his eyes, beheld a solemn Phantom, draped and hooded, coming, like a mist along the ground, towards him. Chapter 4 – The Last of the Spirits The Phantom slowly, gravely, silently approached. When it came, Scrooge bent down upon his knee; for in the very air through which this Spirit moved it seemed to scatter gloom and mystery. It was shrouded in a deep black garment, which concealed its head, its face, its form, and left nothing of it visible save one outstretched hand. But for this it would have been difficult to detach its figure from the night, and separate it from the darkness by which it was surrounded. He felt that it was tall and stately when it came beside him, and that its mysterious presence filled him with a solemn dread. He knew no more, for the Spirit neither spoke nor moved. “I am in the presence of the Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come?” said Scrooge. The Spirit answered not, but pointed onward with its hand. “You are about to show me shadows of the things that have not happened, but will happen in the time before us,” Scrooge pursued. “Is that so, Spirit?” The upper portion of the garment was contracted for an instant in its folds, as if the Spirit had inclined its head. That was the only answer he received. Although well used to ghostly company by this time, Scrooge feared the silent shape so much that his legs trembled beneath him, and he found that he could hardly stand when he prepared to follow it. The Spirit paused a moment, as observing his condition, and giving him time to recover. But Scrooge was all the worse for this. It thrilled him with a vague uncertain horror, to know that behind the dusky shroud, there were ghostly eyes intently fixed upon him, while he, though he stretched his own to the utmost, could see nothing but a spectral hand and one great heap of black. “Ghost of the Future!” he exclaimed, “I fear you more than any spectre I have seen. But as I know your purpose si to do me good, and as I hope to live to be another man from what I was, I am prepared to bear you company, and do it with a thankful heart. Will you not speak to me?” It gave him no reply. The hand was pointed straight before them. “Lead on!” said Scrooge. “Lead on! The night is waning fast, and it is precious time to me, I know. Lead on, Spirit!” The Phantom moved away as it had come towards him. Scrooge followed in the shadow of its dress, which bore him up, he thought, and carried him along. They scarcely seemed to enter the city; for the city rather seemed to spring up about them, and encompass them of its own act. But there they were, in the heart of it; on Change, amongst the merchants; who hurried up and down, and chinked the money in their pockets, and conversed in groups, and looked at their watches, and trifled thoughtfully with their great gold seals; and so forth, as Scrooge had seen them often. The Spirit stopped beside one little knot of business men. Observing that the hand was pointed to them, Scrooge advanced to listen to their talk. “No,” said a great fat man with a monstrous chin, “I don’t know much about it, either way. I only know he’s dead.” “When did he die?” inquired another. “Last night, I believe.” “Why, what was the matter with him?” asked a third, taking a vast quantity of snuff out of a very large snuff-box. “I thought he’d never die.” “God knows,” said the first, with a yawn. “What has he done with his money?” asked a red-faced gentleman with a pendulous excrescence on the end of his nose, that shook like the gills of a turkey-cock. “I haven’t heard,” said the man with the large chin, yawning again. “Left it to his Company, perhaps. He hasn’t left it to me. That’s all I know.” This pleasantry was received with a general laugh. “It’s likely to be a very cheap funeral,” said the same speaker; “for upon my life I don’t know of anybody to go to it. Suppose we make up a party and volunteer?” “I don’t mind going if a lunch is provided,” observed the gentleman with the excrescence on his nose. “But I must be fed, if I make one.” “Well, I am the most disinterested among you, after all,” said the first speaker, “for I never wear black gloves, and I never eat lunch. But I’ll offer to go, if anybody else will. When I come to think of it, I’m not at all sure that I wasn’t his most particular friend; for we used to stop and speak whenever we met. Bye, bye!” Speakers and listeners strolled away, and mixed with other groups. Scrooge knew the men, and looked towards the Spirit for an explanation. The Phantom glided on into a street. Its finger pointed to two persons meeting. Scrooge listened again, thinking that the explanation might lie here. He knew these men, also, perfectly. They were men of business: very wealthy, and of great importance. He had made a point always of standing well in their esteem: in a business point of view, that is; strictly in a business point of view. “How are you?” said one. “How are you?” returned the other. “Well!” said the first. “Old Scratch has got his own at last, hey?” “So I am told,” returned the second. “Cold, isn’t it?” “Seasonable for Christmas time. You’re not a skaiter, I suppose?” “No. No. Something else to think of. Good morning!” Not another word. That was their meeting, their conversation, and their parting. Scrooge was at first inclined to be surprised that the Spirit should attach importance to conversations apparently so trivial; but feeling assured that they must have some hidden purpose, he set himself to consider what it was likely to be. They could scarcely be supposed to have any bearing on the death of Jacob, his old partner, for that was Past, and this Ghost’s province was the Future. Nor could he think of any one immediately connected with himself, to whom he could apply them. But nothing doubting that to whomsoever they applied they had some latent moral for his own improvement, he resolved to treasure up every word he heard, and everything he saw; and especially to observe the shadow of himself when it appeared. For he had an expectation that the conduct of his future self would give him the clue he missed, and would render the solution of these riddles easy. He looked about in that very place for his own image; but another man stood in his accustomed corner, and though the clock pointed to his usual time of day for being there, he saw no likeness of himself among the multitudes that poured in through the Porch. It gave him little surprise, however; for he had been revolving in his mind a change of life, and thought and hoped he saw his new-born resolutions carried out in this. Quiet and dark, beside him stood the Phantom, with its outstretched hand. When he roused himself from his thoughtful quest, he fancied from the turn of the hand, and its situation in reference to himself, that the Unseen Eyes were looking at him keenly. It made him shudder, and feel very cold. They left the busy scene, and went into an obscure part of the town, where Scrooge had never penetrated before, although he recognised its situation, and its bad repute. The ways were foul and narrow; the shops and houses wretched; the people half-naked, drunken, slipshod, ugly. Alleys and archways, like so many cesspools, disgorged their offences of smell, and dirt, and life, upon the straggling streets; and the whole quarter reeked with crime, with filth, and misery. Far in this den of infamous resort, there was a low-browed, beetling shop, below a pent-house roof, where iron, old rags, bottles, bones, and greasy offal, were bought. Upon the floor within, were piled up heaps of rusty keys, nails, chains, hinges, files, scales, weights, and refuse iron of all kinds. Secrets that few would like to scrutinise were bred and hidden in mountains of unseemly rags, masses of corrupted fat, and sepulchres of bones. Sitting in among the wares he dealt in, by a charcoal stove, made of old bricks, was a grey-haired rascal, nearly seventy years of age; who had screened himself from the cold air without, by a frousy curtaining of miscellaneous tatters, hung upon a line; and smoked his pipe in all the luxury of calm retirement. Scrooge and the Phantom came into the presence of this man, just as a woman with a heavy bundle slunk into the shop. But she had scarcely entered, when another woman, similarly laden, came in too; and she was closely followed by a man in faded black, who was no less startled by the sight of them, than they had been upon the recognition of each other. After a short period of blank astonishment, in which the old man with the pipe had joined them, they all three burst into a laugh. “Let the charwoman alone to be the first!” cried she who had entered first. “Let the laundress alone to be the second; and let the undertaker’s man alone to be the third. Look here, old Joe, here’s a chance! If we haven’t all three met here without meaning it!” “You couldn’t have met in a better place,” said old Joe, removing his pipe from his mouth. “Come into the parlour. You were made free of it long ago, you know; and the other two an’t strangers. Stop till I shut the door of the shop. Ah! How it skreeks! There an’t such a rusty bit of metal in the place as its own hinges, I believe; and I’m sure there’s no such old bones here, as mine. Ha, ha! We’re all suitable to our calling, we’re well matched. Come into the parlour. Come into the parlour.” The parlour was the space behind the screen of rags. The old man raked the fire together with an old stair-rod, and having trimmed his smoky lamp (for it was night), with the stem of his pipe, put it in his mouth again. While he did this, the woman who had already spoken threw her bundle on the floor, and sat down in a flaunting manner on a stool; crossing her elbows on her knees, and looking with a bold defiance at the other two. “What odds then! What odds, Mrs Dilber?” said the woman. “Every person has a right to take care of themselves. He always did!” “That’s true, indeed!” said the laundress. “No man more so.” “Why then, don’t stand staring as if you was afraid, woman; who’s the wiser? We’re not going to pick holes in each other’s coats, I suppose?” “No, indeed!” said Mrs Dilber and the man together. “We should hope not.” “Very well, then!” cried the woman. “That’s enough. Who’s the worse for the loss of a few things like these? Not a dead man, I suppose.” “No, indeed!” said Mrs Dilber, laughing. “If he wanted to keep ’em after he was dead, a wicked old screw,” pursued the woman, “why wasn’t he natural in his lifetime? If he had been, he’d have had somebody to look after him when he was struck with Death, instead of lying gasping out his last there, alone by himself.” “It’s the truest word that ever was spoke,” said Mrs Dilber. “It’s a judgment on him.” “I wish it was a little heavier judgment,” replied the woman; “and it should have been, you may depend upon it, if I could have laid my hands on anything else. Open that bundle, old Joe, and let me know the value of it. Speak out plain. I’m not afraid to be the first, nor afraid for them to see it. We know pretty well that we were helping ourselves, before we met here, I believe. It’s no sin. Open the bundle, Joe.” But the gallantry of her friends would not allow of this; and the man in faded black, mounting the breach first, produced his plunder. It was not extensive. A seal or two, a pencil-case, a pair of sleeve-buttons, and a brooch of no great value, were all. They were severally examined and appraised by old Joe, who chalked the sums he was disposed to give for each, upon the wall, and added them up into a total when he found there was nothing more to come. “That’s your account,” said Joe, “and I wouldn’t give another sixpence, if I was to be boiled for not doing it. Who’s next?” Mrs Dilber was next. Sheets and towels, a little wearing apparel, two old-fashioned silver teaspoons, a pair of sugar-tongs, and a few boots. Her account was stated on the wall in the same manner. “I always give too much to ladies. It’s a weakness of mine, and that’s the way I ruin myself,” said old Joe. “That’s your account. If you asked me for another penny, and made it an open question, I’d repent of being so liberal and knock off half-a-crown.” “And now undo my bundle, Joe,” said the first woman. Joe went down on his knees for the greater convenience of opening it, and having unfastened a great many knots, dragged out a large and heavy roll of some dark stuff. “What do you call this.” said Joe. “Bed-curtains!” “Ah!” returned the woman, laughing and leaning forward on her crossed arms. “Bed-curtains!” “You don’t mean to say you took them down, rings and all, with him lying there?” said Joe. “Yes I do,” replied the woman. “Why not?” “You were born to make your fortune,” said Joe, “and you’ll certainly do it.” “I certainly shan’t hold my hand, when I can get anything in it by reaching it out, for the sake of such a man as He was, I promise you, Joe,” returned the woman coolly. “don’t drop that oil upon the blankets, now.” “His blankets?” asked Joe. “Whose else’s do you think?” replied the woman. “He isn’t likely to take cold without ’em, I dare say.” “I hope he didn’t die of any thing catching? Eh?” said old Joe, stopping in his work, and looking up. “Don’t you be afraid of that,” returned the woman. “I an’t so fond of his company that I’d loiter about him for such things, if he did. Ah! you may look through that shirt till your eyes ache; but you won’t find a hole in it, nor a threadbare place. It’s the best he had, and a fine one too. They’d have wasted it, if it hadn’t been for me.” “What do you call wasting of it?” asked old Joe. “Putting it on him to be buried in, to be sure,” replied the woman with a laugh. “Somebody was fool enough to do it, but I took it off again. If calico an’t good enough for such a purpose, it isn’t good enough for anything. It’s quite as becoming to the body. He can’t look uglier than he did in that one.” Scrooge listened to this dialogue in horror. As they sat grouped about their spoil, in the scanty light afforded by the old man’s lamp, he viewed them with a detestation and disgust, which could hardly have been greater, though they had been obscene demons, marketing the corpse itself. “Ha, ha!” laughed the same woman, when old Joe, producing a flannel bag with money in it, told out their several gains upon the ground. “This is the end of it, you see! He frightened every one away from him when he was alive, to profit us when he was dead! Ha, ha, ha!” “Spirit!” said Scrooge, shuddering from head to foot. “I see, I see. The case of this unhappy man might be my own. My life tends that way, now. Merciful Heaven, what is this!” He recoiled in terror, for the scene had changed, and now he almost touched a bed: a bare, uncurtained bed: on which, beneath a ragged sheet, there lay a something covered up, which, though it was dumb, announced itself in awful language. The room was very dark, too dark to be observed with any accuracy, though Scrooge glanced round it in obedience to a secret impulse, anxious to know what kind of room it was. A pale light, rising in the outer air, fell straight upon the bed; and on it, plundered and bereft, unwatched, unwept, uncared for, was the body of this man. Scrooge glanced towards the Phantom. Its steady hand was pointed to the head. The cover was so carelessly adjusted that the slightest raising of it, the motion of a finger upon Scrooge’s part, would have disclosed the face. He thought of it, felt how easy it would be to do, and longed to do it; but had no more power to withdraw the veil than to dismiss the spectre at his side. Oh cold, cold, rigid, dreadful Death, set up thine altar here, and dress it with such terrors as thou hast at thy command: for this is thy dominion! But of the loved, revered, and honoured head, thou canst not turn one hair to thy dread purposes, or make one feature odious. It is not that the hand is heavy and will fall down when released; it is not that the heart and pulse are still; but that the hand was open, generous, and true; the heart brave, warm, and tender; and the pulse a man’s. Strike, Shadow, strike! And see his good deeds springing from the wound, to sow the world with life immortal. No voice pronounced these words in Scrooge’s ears, and yet he heard them when he looked upon the bed. He thought, if this man could be raised up now, what would be his foremost thoughts? Avarice, hard-dealing, griping cares? They have brought him to a rich end, truly! He lay, in the dark empty house, with not a man, a woman, or a child, to say that he was kind to me in this or that, and for the memory of one kind word I will be kind to him. A cat was tearing at the door, and there was a sound of gnawing rats beneath the hearth-stone. What they wanted in the room of death, and why they were so restless and disturbed, Scrooge did not dare to think. “Spirit!” he said, “this is a fearful place. In leaving it, I shall not leave its lesson, trust me. Let us go!” Still the Ghost pointed with an unmoved finger to the head. “I understand you,” Scrooge returned, “and I would do it, if I could. But I have not the power, Spirit. I have not the power.” Again it seemed to look upon him. “If there is any person in the town, who feels emotion caused by this man’s death,” said Scrooge quite agonised, “show that person to me, Spirit, I beseech you!” The Phantom spread its dark robe before him for a moment, like a wing; and withdrawing it, revealed a room by daylight, where a mother and her children were. She was expecting some one, and with anxious eagerness; for she walked up and down the room; started at every sound; looked out from the window; glanced at the clock; tried, but in vain, to work with her needle; and could hardly bear the voices of the children in their play. At length the long-expected knock was heard. She hurried to the door, and met her husband; a man whose face was careworn and depressed, though he was young. There was a remarkable expression in it now; a kind of serious delight of which he felt ashamed, and which he struggled to repress. He sat down to the dinner that had been boarding for him by the fire; and when she asked him faintly what news (which was not until after a long silence), he appeared embarrassed how to answer. “Is it good.” she said, “or bad?” — to help him. “Bad,” he answered. “We are quite ruined?” “No. There is hope yet, Caroline.” “If he relents,” she said, amazed, “there is. Nothing is past hope, if such a miracle has happened.” “He is past relenting,” said her husband. “He is dead.” She was a mild and patient creature if her face spoke truth; but she was thankful in her soul to hear it, and she said so, with clasped hands. She prayed forgiveness the next moment, and was sorry; but the first was the emotion of her heart. “What the half-drunken woman whom I told you of last night, said to me, when I tried to see him and obtain a week’s delay; and what I thought was a mere excuse to avoid me; turns out to have been quite true. He was not only very ill, but dying, then.” “To whom will our debt be transferred?” “I don’t know. But before that time we shall be ready with the money; and even though we were not, it would be a bad fortune indeed to find so merciless a creditor in his successor. We may sleep to-night with light hearts, Caroline!” Yes. Soften it as they would, their hearts were lighter. The children’s faces, hushed and clustered round to hear what they so little understood, were brighter; and it was a happier house for this man’s death! The only emotion that the Ghost could show him, caused by the event, was one of pleasure. “Let me see some tenderness connected with a death,” said Scrooge; “or that dark chamber, Spirit, which we left just now, will be for ever present to me.” The Ghost conducted him through several streets familiar to his feet; and as they went along, Scrooge looked here and there to find himself, but nowhere was he to be seen. They entered poor Bob Cratchit’s house; the dwelling he had visited before; and found the mother and the children seated round the fire. Quiet. Very quiet. The noisy little Cratchits were as still as statues in one corner, and sat looking up at Peter, who had a book before him. The mother and her daughters were engaged in sewing. But surely they were very quiet! ““And he took a child, and set him in the midst of them.”” Where had Scrooge heard those words? He had not dreamed them. The boy must have read them out, as he and the Spirit crossed the threshold. Why did he not go on? The mother laid her work upon the table, and put her hand up to her face. “The colour hurts my eyes,” she said. The colour? Ah, poor Tiny Tim! “They’re better now again,” said Cratchit’s wife. “It makes them weak by candle-light; and I wouldn’t show weak eyes to your father when he comes home, for the world. It must be near his time.” “Past it rather,” Peter answered, shutting up his book. “But I think he has walked a little slower than he used, these few last evenings, mother.” They were very quiet again. At last she said, and in a steady, cheerful voice, that only faultered once: “I have known him walk with — I have known him walk with Tiny Tim upon his shoulder, very fast indeed.” “And so have I,” cried Peter. “Often.” “And so have I!” exclaimed another. So had all. “But he was very light to carry,” she resumed, intent upon her work, “and his father loved him so, that it was no trouble: no trouble. And there is your father at the door!” She hurried out to meet him; and little Bob in his comforter — he had need of it, poor fellow — came in. His tea was ready for him on the hob, and they all tried who should help him to it most. Then the two young Cratchits got upon his knees and laid, each child a little cheek, against his face, as if they said, “Don’t mind it, father. Don’t be grieved!” Bob was very cheerful with them, and spoke pleasantly to all the family. He looked at the work upon the table, and praised the industry and speed of Mrs Cratchit and the girls. They would be done long before Sunday, he said. “Sunday! You went to-day, then, Robert?” said his wife. “Yes, my dear,” returned Bob. “I wish you could have gone. It would have done you good to see how green a place it is. But you’ll see it often. I promised him that I would walk there on a Sunday. My little, little child!” cried Bob. “My little child!” He broke down all at once. He couldn’t help it. If he could have helped it, he and his child would have been farther apart perhaps than they were. He left the room, and went up-stairs into the room above, which was lighted cheerfully, and hung with Christmas. There was a chair set close beside the child, and there were signs of some one having been there, lately. Poor Bob sat down in it, and when he had thought a little and composed himself, he kissed the little face. He was reconciled to what had happened, and went down again quite happy. They drew about the fire, and talked; the girls and mother working still. Bob told them of the extraordinary kindness of Mr Scrooge’s nephew, whom he had scarcely seen but once, and who, meeting him in the street that day, and seeing that he looked a little — “just a little down you know,” said Bob, inquired what had happened to distress him. “On which,” said Bob, “for he is the pleasantest-spoken gentleman you ever heard, I told him. “I am heartily sorry for it, Mr Cratchit,” he said, “and heartily sorry for your good wife.” By the bye, how he ever knew that, I don’t know.” “Knew what, my dear?” “Why, that you were a good wife,” replied Bob. “Everybody knows that.” said Peter. “Very well observed, my boy.” cried Bob. “I hope they do. “Heartily sorry,” he said, “for your good wife. If I can be of service to you in any way,” he said, giving me his card, “that’s where I live. Pray come to me.” Now, it wasn’t,” cried Bob, “for the sake of anything he might be able to do for us, so much as for his kind way, that this was quite delightful. It really seemed as if he had known our Tiny Tim, and felt with us.” “I’m sure he’s a good soul!” said Mrs Cratchit. “You would be surer of it, my dear,” returned Bob, “if you saw and spoke to him. I shouldn’t be at all surprised, mark what I say, if he got Peter a better situation.” “Only hear that, Peter,” said Mrs Cratchit. “And then,” cried one of the girls, “Peter will be keeping company with some one, and setting up for himself.” “Get along with you!” retorted Peter, grinning. “It’s just as likely as not,” said Bob, “one of these days; though there’s plenty of time for that, my dear. But however and whenever we part from one another, I am sure we shall none of us forget poor Tiny Tim — shall we — or this first parting that there was among us?” “Never, father!” cried they all. “And I know,” said Bob, “I know, my dears, that when we recollect how patient and how mild he was; although he was a little, little child; we shall not quarrel easily among ourselves, and forget poor Tiny Tim in doing it.” “No, never, father!” they all cried again. “I am very happy,” said little Bob, “I am very happy!” Mrs Cratchit kissed him, his daughters kissed him, the two young Cratchits kissed him, and Peter and himself shok hands. Spirit of Tiny Tim, thy childish essence was from God! “Spectre,” said Scrooge, “something informs me that our parting moment is at hand. I know it, but I know not how. Tell me what man that was whom we saw lying dead?” The Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come conveyed him, as before — though at a different time, he thought: indeed, there seemed no order in these latter visions, save that they were in the Future — into the resorts of business men, but showed him not himself. Indeed, the Spirit did not stay for anything, but went straight on, as to the end just now desired, until besought by Scrooge to tarry for a moment. “This courts,” said Scrooge, “through which we hurry now, is where my place of occupation is, and has been for a length of time. I see the house. Let me behold what I shall be, in days to come.” The Spirit stopped; the hand was pointed elsewhere. “The house is yonder,” Scrooge exclaimed. “Why do you point away?” The inexorable finger underwent no change. Scrooge hastened to the window of his office, and looked in. It was an office still, but not his. The furniture was not the same, and the figure in the chair was not himself. The Phantom pointed as before. He joined it once again, and wondering why and whither he had gone, accompanied it until they reached an iron gate. He paused to look round before entering. A churchyard. Here, then, the wretched man whose name he had now to learn, lay underneath the ground. It was a worthy place. Walled in by houses; overrun by grass and weeds, the growth of vegetation’s death, not life; choked up with too much burying; fat with repleted appetite. A worthy place! The Spirit stood among the graves, and pointed down to One. He advanced towards it trembling. The Phantom was exactly as it had been, but he dreaded that he saw new meaning in its solemn shape. “Before I draw nearer to that stone to which you point,” said Scrooge, “answer me one question. Are these the shadows of the things that Will be, or are they shadows of things that May be, only?” Still the Ghost pointed downward to the grave by which it stood. “Men’s courses will foreshadow certain ends, to which, if persevered in, they must lead,” said Scrooge. “But if the courses be departed from, the ends will change. Say it is thus with what you show me!” The Spirit was immovable as ever. Scrooge crept towards it, trembling as he went; and following the finger, read upon the stone of the neglected grave his own name, Ebenezer Scrooge. “Am I that man who lay upon the bed?” he cried, upon his knees. The finger pointed from the grave to him, and back again. “No, Spirit! Oh no, no!” The finger still was there. “Spirit!” he cried, tight clutching at its robe, “hear me! I am not the man I was. I will not be the man I must have been but for this intercourse. Why show me this, if I am past all hope?” For the first time the hand appeared to shake. “Good Spirit,” he pursued, as down upon the ground he fell before it: “Your nature intercedes for me, and pities me. Assure me that I yet may change these shadows you have shown me, by an altered life!” The kind hand trembled. “I will honour Christmas in my heart, and try to keep it all the year. I will live in the Past, the Present, and the Future. The Spirits of all Three shall strive within me. I will not shut out the lessons that they teach. Oh, tell me I may sponge away the writing on this stone!” In his agony, he caught the spectral hand. It sought to free itself, but he was strong in his entreaty, and detained it. The Spirit, stronger yet, repulsed him. Holding up his hands in a last prayer to have his fate reversed, he saw an alteration in the Phantom’s hood and dress. It shrunk, collapsed, and dwindled down into a bedpost. Chapter 5 – The End of it Yes! and the bedpost was his own. The bed was his own, the room was his own. Best and happiest of all, the time before him was his own, to make amends in! “I will live in the Past, the Present, and the Future!” Scrooge repeated, as he scrambled out of bed. “The Spirits of all Three shall strive within me. Oh Jacob Marley! Heaven, and the Christmas Time be praised for this! I say it on my knees, old Jacob; on my knees!” He was so fluttered and so glowing with his good intentions, that his broken voice would scarcely answer to his call. He had been sobbing violently in his conflict with the Spirit, and his face was wet with tears. “They are not torn down,” cried Scrooge, folding one of his bed-curtains in his arms, “they are not torn down, rings and all. They are here: I am here: the shadows of the things that would have been, may be dispelled. They will be. I know they will!” His hands were busy with his garments all this time: turning them inside out, putting them on upside down, tearing them, mislaying them, making them parties to every kind of extravagance. “I don’t know what to do!” cried Scrooge, laughing and crying in the same breath; and making a perfect Laocoön of himself with his stockings. “I am as light as a feather, I am as happy as an angel, I am as merry as a school-boy. I am as giddy as a drunken man. A merry Christmas to every-body! A happy New Year to all the world! Hallo here! Whoop! Hallo!” He had frisked into the sitting-room, and was now standing there: perfectly winded. “There’s the saucepan that the gruel was in!” cried Scrooge, starting off again, and going round the fire-place. “There’s the door, by which the Ghost of Jacob Marley entered! There’s the corner where the Ghost of Christmas Present, sat! There’s the window where I saw the wandering Spirits! It’s all right, it’s all true, it all happened. Ha ha ha!” Really, for a man who had been out of practice for so many years, it was a splendid laugh, a most illustrious laugh. The father of a long, long line of briliant laughs! “I don’t know what day of the month it is!” said Scrooge. “I don’t know how long I’ve been among the Spirits. I don’t know anything. I’m quite a baby. Never mind. I don’t care. I’d rather be a baby. Hallo! Whoop! Hallo here!” He was checked in his transports by the churches ringing out the lustiest peals he had ever heard. Clash, clang, hammer, ding, dong, bell. Bell, dong, ding, hammer, clang, clash! Oh, glorious, glorious! Running to the window, he opened it, and put out his stirring, cold cold, piping for the blood to dance to; Golden sunlight; Heavenly sky; sweet fresh air; merry bells. Oh, glorious. Glorious! “What’s to-day?” cried Scrooge, calling downward to a boy in Sunday clothes, who perhaps had loitered in to look about him. “Eh? ” returned the boy, with all his might of wonder. “What’s to-day, my fine fellow?” said Scrooge. “To-day?” replied the boy. “Why, Christmas Day.” “It’s Christmas Day!” said Scrooge to himself. “I haven ‘t missed it. The Spirits have done it all in one night. They can do anything they like. Of course they can. Of course they can. Hallo, my fine fellow!” “Hallo!” returned the boy “Do you know the Poulterer’s, in the next street but one, at the corner?” Scrooge inquired. “I should hope I did,” replied the lad. “An intelligent boy!” said Scrooge. “A remarkable boy! Do you know whether they’ve sold the prize Turkey that was hanging up there? Not the little prize Turkey; the big one?” “What, the one as big as me?” returned the boy. “What a delightful boy!” said Scrooge. “It’s a pleasure to talk to him. Yes, my buck!” “It’s hanging there now,” replied the boy. “Is it?” said Scrooge. “Go and buy it.” “Walk-er!” exclaimed the boy. “No, no,” said Scrooge, “I am in earnest. Go and buy it, and tell ’em to bring it here, that I may give them the irection where to take it. Come back with the man, and I’ll give you a shilling. Come back with him in less than five minutes, and I’ll give you half-a-crown!” “I’ll send it to Bob Cratchit’s!” whispered Scrooge, rubbing his hands, and splitting with a laugh. “He sha’n’t know who sends it. It’s twice the size of Tiny Tim. Joe Miller never made such a joke as sending it to Bob’s will be!” The hand in which he wrote the address was not a steady one, but write it he did, somehow, and went down stairs to open the street door, ready for the coming of the poulterer’s man. As he stood there, waiting his arrival, the knocker caught his eye. “I shall love it, as long as I live!” cried Scrooge, patting it with his hand. “I scarcely ever looked at it before. What an honest expression it has in its face! It’s a wonderful knocker! — Here’s the Turkey. Hallo! Whoop! How are you! Merry Christmas!” It was a Turkey! He never could have stood upon his legs, that bird. He would have snapped ’em short off in a minute, like sticks of sealing-wax. “Why, it’s impossible to carry that to Camden Town,” said Scrooge. “You must have a cab.” The chuckle with which he said this, and the chuckle with which he paid for the Turkey, and the chuckle with which he paid for the cab, and the chuckle with which he recompensed the boy, were only to be exceeded by the chuckle with which he sat down breathless in his chair again, and chuckled till he cried. Shaving was not an easy task, for his hand continued to shake very much; and shaving requires attention, even when you don’t dance while you are at it. But if he had cut the end of his nose off, he would have put a piece of sticking-plaister over it, and been quite satisfied. He dressed himself all in his best, and at last got out into the streets. The people were by this time pouring forth, as he had seen them with the Ghost of Christmas Present; and walking with his hands behind him, Scrooge regarded every one with a delighted smile. He looked so irresistibly pleasant, in a word, that three or four good-humoured fellows said, “Good morning, sir! A merry Christmas to you!” And Scrooge said often afterwards, that of all the blithe sounds he had ever heard, those were the blithest in his ears. He had not gone far, when coming on towards him he beheld the portly gentleman, who had walked into his counting-house the day before, and said, “Scrooge and Marley’s, I believe?” It sent a pang across his heart to think how this old gentleman would look upon him when they met; but he knew what path lay straight before him, and he took it. “My dear sir,” said Scrooge, quickening his pace, and taking the old gentleman by both his hands. “How do you do? I hope you succeeded yesterday. It was very kind of you. A merry Christmas to you, sir!” “Yes,” said Scrooge. “That is my name, and I fear it may not be pleasant to you. Allow me to ask your pardon. And will you have the goodness –” here Scrooge whispered in his ear. “Lord bless me!” cried the gentleman, as if his breath were gone. “My dear Mr Scrooge, are you serious?” “If you please,” said Scrooge. “Not a farthing less. A great many back-payments are included in it, I assure you. Will you do me that favour?” “My dear sir,” said the other, shaking hands with him. “I don’t know what to say to such munifi‐” “don’t say anything, please,” retorted Scrooge. “Come and see me. Will you come and see me?” “I will!” cried the old gentleman. And it was clear he meant to do it. “Thank ‘ee,” said Scrooge. “I am much obliged to you. I thank you fifty times. Bless you!” He went to church, and walked about the streets, and watched the people hurrying to and fro, and patted children on the head, and questioned beggars, and looked down into the kitchens of houses, and up to the windows: and found that everything could yield him pleasure. He had never dreamed that any walk — that anything — could give him so much happiness. In the afternoon he turned his steps towards his nephew’s house. He passed the door a dozen times, before he had the courage to go up and knock. But he made a dash, and did it: “Is your master at home, my dear?” said Scrooge to the girl. Nice girl! Very. “Where is he, my love?” said Scrooge. “He’s in the dining-room, sir, along with mistress. I’ll show you up-stairs, if you please.” “Thank ‘ee. He knows me,” said Scrooge, with his hand already on the dining-room lock. “I’ll go in here, my dear.” He turned it gently, and sidled his face in, round the door. They were looking at the table (which was spread out in great array); for these young housekeepers are always nervous on such points, and like to see that everything is right. “Fred!” said Scrooge. Dear heart alive, how his niece by marriage started! Scrooge had forgotten, for the moment, about her sitting in the corner with the footstool, or he wouldn’t have done it, on any account. “Why bless my soul!” cried Fred, “who’s that?” “It’s I. Your uncle Scrooge. I have come to dinner. Will you let me in, Fred?” Let him in! It is a mercy he didn’t shake his arm off. He was at home in five minutes. Nothing could be heartier. His niece looked just the same. So did Topper when he came. So did the plump sister when she came. So did every one when they came. Wonderful party, wonderful games, wonderful unanimity, won-der-ful happiness! But he was early at the office next morning. Oh, he was early there. If he could only be there first, and catch Bob Cratchit coming late! That was the thing he had set his heart upon. And he did it; yes he did! The clock struck nine. No Bob. A quarter past. No Bob. He was full eighteen minutes and a half, behind his time. Scrooge sat with his door wide open, that he might see him come into the Tank. His hat was off, before he opened the door; his comforter too. He was on his stool in a jiffy; driving away with his pen, as if he were trying to overtake nine o’clock. “Hallo!” growled Scrooge, in his accustomed voice, as near as he could feign it. “What do you mean by coming here at this time of day.” “I am very sorry, sir,” said Bob. “I am behind my time.” “You are?” repeated Scrooge. “Yes. I think you are. Step this way, if you please.” “It’s only once a year, sir,” pleaded Bob, appearing from the Tank. “It shall not be repeated. I was making rather merry yesterday, sir.” “Now, I’ll tell you what, my friend,” said Scrooge, “I am not going to stand this sort of thing any longer. And therefore,” he continued, leaping from his stool, and giving Bob such a dig in the waistcoat that he staggered back into the Tank again: “and therefore I am about to raise your salary!” Bob trembled, and got a little nearer to the ruler. He had a momentary idea of knocking Scrooge down with it; holding him, and calling to the people in the court for help and a strait-waistcoat. “A merry Christmas, Bob!” said Scrooge, with an earnestness that could not be mistaken, as he clapped him on the back. “A merrier Christmas, Bob, my good fellow, than I have given you for many a year! I’ll raise your salary, and endeavour to assist your struggling family, and we will discuss your affairs this very afternoon, over a Christmas bowl of smoking bishop, Bob! Make up the fires, and buy another coal-scuttle before you dot another i, Bob Cratchit.” Scrooge was better than his word. He did it all, and infinitely more; and to Tiny Tim, who did not die, he was a second father. He became as good a friend, as good a master, and as good a man, as the good old city knew, or any other good old city, town, or borough, in the good old world. Some people laughed to see the alteration in him, but he let them laugh, and little heeded them; for he was wise enough to know that nothing ever happened on this globe, for good, at which some people did not have their fill of laughter in the outset; and knowing that such as these would be blind anyway, he thought it quite as well that they should wrinkle up their eyes in grins, as have the malady in less attractive forms. His own heart laughed: and that was quite enough for him. He had no further intercourse with Spirits, but lived upon the Total Abstinence Principle, ever afterwards; and it was always said of him, that he knew how to keep Christmas well, if any man alive possessed the knowledge. May that be truly said of us, and all of us! And so, as Tiny Tim observed, God Bless Us, Every One!

White Chocolate Macadamia Nut Mug Cake This post may contain affiliate links. Click here to learn more. One of my favorite treats growing up was a white chocolate macadamia nut cookie from Subway of all places. Eventually, I realized that each cookie has 220 calories and like 20 grams of sugar. And of course I was capitalizing on their 3 for 99 cents deal. Whew! Past times like these are a big inspiration for recipes on this blog. This protein mug cake, for instance, packs a healthy dose of nostalgia and comfort without all the calories and sugar. Not to mention, the 28 grams of protein and high volume ingredients create a super filling and satisfying treat. I don’t know about you, but I could probably eat 100 Subway white chocolate macadamia nut cookies in one sitting. Staying full, satisfying cravings, and reaching higher protein intakes for fitness goals and supporting lean body mass are always primary goals with recipes on Mugs for Muscles. Protein Mug Cake Ingredients With only 6 ingredients, I don’t have many notes for you. You can use any protein powder for this protein mug cake, but I used a whey concentrate blend from Dymatize. I’ve found the ultra lean powders like whey isolate have a tendency to get dry or tough in mug cakes. And plant-based powders can be a bit granular or dense. If you’re using a different protein powder, you may want to add a bit more fat via butter or faux fat like unsweetened apple sauce to accommodate. You could also swap the almond milk for a milk with some fat content. (i.e. cow’s milk, coconut milk) For the coconut flour, you can swap an all purpose flour or similar flour at a 3:1 ratio. You’ll add some calories and carbs so keep that in mind with your calories and macros. As you’ll see in the recipe notes, a shallow bowl or mug tends to work better than a tall mug for even cooking in mug cakes. If you’re cooking in a tall mug, keep an eye out for overflow and finish it off in intervals. Once it’s cooked through, you can flip a tall mug cake out the same way if you’d like. Check out the Crunch Berries Protein Mug Cake for an example of this. White Chocolate Macadamia Nut Protein Mug Cake A high protein treat for the white chocolate macadamia nut fan. Mix all the ingredients in a mug or bowl. Stir well. (For best results, transfer to a mug or bowl sprayed with nonstick cooking spray.) Microwave for 90-105 seconds, watching for overflow depending on the size of your mug or bowl. If the mug cake is close to overflowing, finish the remaining cook time in 5-second intervals. - Cooking in a shallow bowl seems to work best since the chocolate chips and nuts sink to the bottom during cooking. - If you’d like the best of both worlds, add ½ the chocolate chips and nuts to the mixture and save ½ for adding to the top. - To make yours look like the intro photo you see, run a knife around the cake's edges and flip the cake onto a plate after cooking. Top with chocolate chips and macadamia nuts. Microwave for an additional 20-30 seconds if the bottom of the cake is still a bit moist. If you try this recipe, be sure to tag us on Instagram! And subscribe to the email list below if you’d like to be notified about new recipes and other happenings on the blog.

Oral piercings are a type of body piercing which is actually a hole made in an oral cavity area to wear jewelry. Depending upon the organ to be pierced, you can get a wide variety of oral piercing jewels like stud, barbells, closed rings, unclosed rings, temporary plastic jewellery, etc. Teenagers and youngsters prefer such mouth piercings and tongue splitting to express them in a stylish manner. Do you know such piercings made with a needle in the oral regions will harm your mouth? The decorative appliance worn with the opening made has an ally with harmful disease-causing agents. Such oral piercings will cause harmful dental diseases and life-threatening diseases in the long run. Consequences of oral piercings The mouth piercings cause intense pain at times and interfere with speaking, eating, chewing and swallow foods. Apart from such oral intrusions, the metal substances placed inside your mouth will cause infections which is the main source for serious diseases. Typically, our mouth has a lot of infectious bacteria. The moist environment inside the mouth because of the salivary flow make the mouth as a breeding ground for various oral bacteria. The pierces made for the cosmetic wear in any organ inside the oral cavity will open a way for the minute organisms to penetrate inside the pierced area. 1) Nerve damage & Continual bleeding If you prefer piercings for your tongue, you are at risk of damage in the tongue nerves and scar tissues. You should get such piercings from an experienced person. It is because if the needle accidentally hurts the nerves, it will make the tongue numb until it is fixed. In certain cases, nerve damage is irreversible. It makes permanent tongue numbness. Likewise, the tissues and veins are also get hurt during the piercing. If the trauma is quite deep, it will lead to persistent bleeding and cause more blood loss. 2) Gum Damage People who get Frowny piercings or piercings in their gums are highly prone to periodontal problems like receding gums, Gingival inflammation. It happens because of the pressure applied by the metal against the teeth. Allergic reactions and the irritation of gum tissues with the metal also cause such issues in the gums. Periodontal problems like gum diseases and gum recession are highly powerful to weaken the underlying tooth bone and lead to tooth loss. Researches show that people with frowny piercings and tongue piercings have more chances of gum diseases when compared to people who get piercings in other oral regions. 3) Damage in Teeth As mentioned in one of the above sections, the metal piercings in mouth exert pressure against the teeth. Likewise, they abrade with the surrounding teeth when we eat and chew foods. The pressure along with the friction weaken the teeth’s enamel and chip the teeth. Some people develop a habit of playing with the rings inside the mouth, it also causes an adverse effect on the teeth like teeth abrasions, etc. 4) Respiratory Problems Besides infection in the pierced area, swelling is also possible after fixing the oral piercing jewellery. Swelling or inflammation in tongue, uvula and throat can block the nasal passage and obstruct the airways. It makes the person hard o breath. 5) Bad Breath As the pierced ring in the mouth adheres to the particles inside the oral cavity, the oral bacteria take advantage of it and gets accumulated on the metal ornament. It makes the oral piercing a new shelter for the microorganisms inside the mouth. Then bad breath is possible because of the gathering of oral bacteria. If you had tongue piercings, then you have higher chances of bad breath. It is because the tongue with an oral piercing is very hard to clean. The deposition of bacteria takes place at a higher rate in a pierced tongue. 6) Keloid Formation Keloids are the overgrowth of scar tissues occurred anywhere in the body. Some people get keloids because of the piercings made in the ear to wear earrings. It shows that the chances of keloid formation are higher for the piercings made in the oral cavity regions like lip, tongue, uvula, etc. 7) Bloodborne diseases The infections or accumulation of bacteria in the pierced site inside the mouth are harmful to secrete a toxic substance. It is also possible with the bacterial infection in the gum regions. Then the noxious component produced by the oral bacteria gets released in the blood flow. This will cause serious diseases like Endocarditis, Hepatitis, etc. The side effects of oral piercings are more harmful than you think. Unlike Tooth Jewellery, the cosmetic ornaments fixed with piercings inside the mouth are associated with serious complications. In some cases, it will persist even after you remove the metal substance. To avoid such discomforts, it is better to get the piercings from a licensed Professional and get dental checkups at regular intervals after adhering the oral piercing rings. This post was created with our nice and easy submission form. Create your post!

Nota bene: Before the reflection, I have included a couple of journal entries which are alluded to and whose content contributes to the discourse. People not interested can skip down. I was walking outside and met Robin, and we talked. When he asked me how I was doing, I didn’t have much to say, but mentioned a few thoughts I’d had. Then I asked him how he was doing, and he said that he had been feeling really close to God, and more aware of other people. I hadn’t mentioned, because it had been around so long, the emptiness I was feeling, and I became more acutely aware of how dry my own spiritual life had been, how mechanical of an exercise my Bible reading was. That night, I was walking over to Wheaton’s campus for Pooh’s Corner (a group of people that meets to read children’s books aloud). A long and slow-moving freight train was crossing the tracks. While I was standing and waiting, I thought about the conversation and my own dryness, and decided to work on my spiritual state when I got home. —No, not when you get home. Now. —Not now! I’m waiting for a train. I decided to do something then and there. But what? Iniative and power are all on God’s side; there was nothing I could do that would accomplish closeness between God and me. So I prayed a simple prayer. That moment, I was filled with joy and peace, deeper than I had known in a long time. I paced back and forth in that joy and peace waiting for the train — enjoying through them the simple little things: the walking, the sound of the train. Whatever I did, there was God. I thought about Thérèse de Lisieux’s little way (as depicted in the movie Household Saints), about resting in God’s presence, and of being in God’s will in even the most simple places — even waiting for a train. At a low spot — when I medically can’t work above half-time, and have an intermittent job not related to computers — and when used to thinking about serving God in spectacular and heroic ways, it was good to realize that. I went on to Pooh’s corner, and enjoyed things there a great deal more. There were milk and cookies, and I enjoyed them in a different way than I usually enjoy food. I usually eat good food slowly and in little bites, to consciously savor its flavor — but I do not completely engage, or rather I am not able to let go of my disengagement. This time I was able to engage, and not just with the milk and cookies; I was also able to engage with the camaraderie and silliness. When I create something (even something little), there is a first conception of the idea, then an incubation period where I let the idea ferment, then a time of implementation. The fermenting period is one which I cherish, and one which I had rarely experienced since a loss of creativity associated with my medication (the creativity has returned after an adjustment of the levels of those medications). I experienced it then. I also spent time worrying about the loss of the joy and peace, although I tried not to. At Pooh’s Corner, I was distracted for a good part of it, wanting to get up and write about the posting on the forum wall, but still trying to enjoy it, as that would be all the Pooh’s Corner I would have for the week. Pooh’s Corner meets in the lobby of Fischer dorm, where I stayed my freshman year. It is a place full of distractions and people passing through. There is a piano there, and partway through I realized in a flash that I had been drinking the music in the same way that I drink wine. What I mean is this: Wine, as contrasted to e.g. milk or juice, is something you can only take a small amount of. You can drink water until your thirst is quenched, or have several glasses of milk, but with wine it is different. If you are having one drink, then that translates to a 5 ounce glass — not even a full cup. If you drink it the same way you drink Pepsi, you are going to find yourself holding an empty glass before you know it. Consequently, when I drink wine, I sip it very slowly, and I consciously savor it in a way that would never occur to me if I could drink an indefinite quantity and remain sober. What I realized last night as I was thinking about my realization was that I taste wine in a way that I do not taste milk. I drink milk, and like it, and vaguely and absently taste it, but do not taste it wholly. With wine, the realization that I only have a little amount and it will soon be gone keeps me from absently quaffing glass after glass; when I have a glass of wine, I sometimes close my eyes and am able to taste it so intensely that I am not aware of anything else. That is what happened with the music, and which I realized afterwards. I have no control over the music that is played, and the most beautiful passages seem to be over so quickly. At one point in the music, I was doing the same thing as I do when I hold a sip of wine in my mouth, close my eyes, and savor it — I was concentrating on it so intensely that I was not aware of anything else (in a busy room with many voices talking and people passing through), and when it was over I had a feeling of having drunk it to the dregs. It was somewhat strange to realize that I had learned such a thing from wine. My attitude towards alcohol is European rather than American, and (without trying to trace the argument here) I regard alcohol as a symbol of moderation, and learning to enjoy things in a temperate manner (the Puritan attitude towards alcohol). I had not, though, expected that in drinking I would learn something of this nature. I think that what I did is close to what goes on in empathic listening — a drinking in with your whole being. At the beginning of this journal, I talked about not being able to engage. This is a point where I have learned to truly engage in one area, and it may well help me to engage in others — it has helped me to enjoy music, at least. I was also thinking, Tuesday, about a point related to chapter 4 of G.K. Chesterton’s Orthodoxy. Specifically, many things imagined as magic and psychic phenomena are exaggerated and cosmetically altered versions of things God has given us. For example, teleportation (to be able to move instantaneously from point to point) is less astounding than being able to move from point to point in the first place, and there are many creatures which live without any such faculty (such as trees). Telekenesis is not that much more astounding than having hands with which to move things. Mental telepathy is quite similar to speech, and the surprise we would have at seeing mental telepathy is nothing like the surprise an animal (with a sufficiently anthropomorphic mind) would have at discovering that once one of these creatures learns something, the rest know it. It would be like what reaction we might have upon first learning certain things about Star Trek’s Borg, multiplied tenfold. If it is thought of in this manner, the concept of speech is far more impressive than the concept of altering speech by changing the channel through which the mind-to-mind transmission occurs. It might be also pointed out that, in the past few millenia, we have found another channel for mind-to-mind transmission to occur: reading and writing. When one pair of Wycliffe missionaries was working with some tribesmen, they were trying to persuade the chief of the advantage of writing. One of them left the other room, and the other one asked the chief’s mother’s name, and wrote it down. When his partner returned and read her name, the chief almost fainted. There are a couple of things that come from this. The first is that God’s creation really is magical, in the sense of being something awesome, and something we should be amazed that we have. It is in our nature to become blasé; our eyes become glazed over at magnificent things. If we can somehow let scales fall from our eyes, we would be dumbstruck at what we have — for example, music. The second is that, if we can become blasé at what God has given us, we would probably also become blasé at the things we fantasize about. When I was a child, I absolutely loved to swim, and I wished that I could breathe underwater… but that (after a little while) would have held nothing for me than being able to breathe air, hold my breath, and swim underwater. I have fantasized about all of the special powers that I would like to have, and when I do that I do not much enjoy the gifts I have, not only as a human being, but personally — my sharp mind and so on and so forth. Also related to this insight was kything… In A Wind in the Door, Madeleine l’Engle uses the word ‘kythe’ to describe a beautiful communion beyond communication. It is the whole cherubic language, of which mental telepathy is just the beginning. It holds a similar place to ‘grok’ in Robert A. Heinlein’s Stranger in a Strange Land, and the meanings of the two words are similar. I am not going to try per se to describe its meaning further, but simply refer the reader to that excellent book. What he had actually seen she could not begin to guess. That he had seen something, something unusual, she was positive. This is the same sort of feeling I felt about kything. There is something in that word that strikes a deep chord in my spirit; it is the primary reason why that is my favorite book out of the series, and at times been one of my favorite books at all. In conjunction with the above musing, l’Engle’s portrait of kything has a beauty that is not an ex nihilo creation, that shows forth a beauty that is really in this world but which we do not see. I would very much like to kythe — but I can’t do what’s in the book without sinning. What is in this world that embodies the beauty of kything? As I was thinking and praying, I realized several things that may, in a sense, be called kything, that are beautiful in the same way. I felt a Spirit-tugging to list a hundred such things. I don’t know if I’ll be able to do that, or if so where I’ll come up with a hundred, but I will none the less try. 3: Martial arts sparring. It takes time (I’ve studied martial arts for a little over a year, and I’ve only begun to taste this), but there is something martial artists call ‘harmony with opponents’ that is a deep attunement. I’ve had one sparring match where I knew everything my opponent was going to do about a quarter second before he did it. A good book to read to get a little better feeling for this is The Way of Karate: Beyond Technique. 4: Flow, as described in Daniel Goleman’s Emotional Intelligence. 5: Empathic listening. This is listening in which the listener is completely attuned to the speaker. I don’t know any books to reccommend for that topic. 6: Drinking as I drink wine, or as I drank music. 7: Improvising musically. Music is an alien language, not symbolic, not logical, and yet speaking powerfully. When you can really let the music flow through you, you are kything. 8: Making love. The subject of the Song of Songs is not just a physical act, but a total communion between a man and a woman, united for life. 9: Stillness. There is a way of being still that is kything. 10: What I did at Pooh’s Corner the first night described. (Well, there’s ten at one sitting… I expect to come back to this later.) 11: Mathematical problem solving. I won’t even begin to explain this, beyond saying that to those who have experienced it no explanation is necessary. Just remembered — there’s a good book on this topic for non-mathematicians, entitled, The Art of Mathematics. 12: Musical improvisation with another person. I have never done this, but I remember, at Calvin, being fascinated by my friends Bruce and Janna talking about when they improvised together at the keyboard. It worked. I believe, from conversations, that the Spirit was guiding them, and it was a communion with the Spirit and each other. 13: Singing prayers in tongues. I don’t pray this way very often, but when I do, it’s very uplifting. It is a praying, not with the rational mind, but with the spirit, and it receives what to say moment by moment from the Spirit. 14: Non-sexual touch. It’s going to be hard to say something brief here, as I’ve written a whole treatise on this point, but to try: Non-sexual touch can be deep, and express something words cannot. It is the nature of love to draw close; touch is an incarnate race’s physical means of communicating love, and for babies the first and foremost way of knowing love. Beyond that… if what I am saying doesn’t resonate within you (or if you’d just like a hug), ask me for a hug — a real one. It took me a long time, but I have learned how to touch, and at times to drink touch as I drink wine. 15: Dancing. Wheaton alumnus Alan Light wrote a beautiful letter about how he had adopted a code of duty, honor, and steadfastness, and a folkdancing class had opened his eyes to joy, peace, and freedom. There is something beautiful of those things that can be learned in dancing, something that it’s easy not to know you’re missing. (For all that, I don’t dance very well. Before a knee injury, I had something to do with my feet that looked impressive, but I haven’t learned to dance (to commune with others, to connect in a merry, moving hug) as I have learned to touch.) (Coming back after a time) I can recall one occasion when I really danced. At the last Mennonite Conference I attended, both youth and adult worship were religion within the bounds of amusement, but the youth worship was at least honest about it, and I preferred it to the adult sessions. Before a Ken Medema concert, there was a group of high schoolers playing a dance game, and I joined in. It lifted me out of sorrow, and there was a vibrant synergy, a joy and connection and communion. It’s something that everyone should experience at least once. He who dances, sings twice. 16: An I-Thou relationship. An I-Thou relationship differs from an I-It relationship as kything differs from mental telepathy. I only got halfway through Martin Buber’s I and Thou before setting the book down, because it was too hard to concentrate on, but it says a lot about how to kythe. As pertains to prayer and kything with God, I would pose an insight in the form of a riddle: how is it that the saint and mystic refers to God as `I’ without blaspheming? 17: Dreaming. One story in a marvelous book, Tales of a Magic Monastery by Theophane the Monk, ended with a character saying, “While you tend to judge a monk by his decorum during the day, we judge him by the number of persons he touches at night, and the number of stars.” Dreaming has always been special to me; it allows access to a different, fantastic world. It can be a way to kythe. What if there were a culture that regarded dreaming rather than waking as the aroused state? 18: Praying with another person. Where two or three are gathered, he is with them. When they are praying, there is not only an individual bond between each one and God; there are connections within the group. There have been some people who hold that a man and a woman who are not married to each other should not pray together; I do not agree with that, but the fact that such a position has been taken by levelheaded believers seems to underscore that there is a communion between people who pray together. 19: Artistic creation. When I create something, it fills my mind, my musings; I kythe with it as I give it form. 20: Children’s play. Children’s play can be timeless and absorbing, and Peter Kreeft, in Heaven: The Heart’s Deepest Longing, says that the activity of Heaven will be neither work, which is wearying, nor rest, which is passive, but pure and unending play, an activity which is energetic and energizing. Playing with children is entering into another world, a magical world, and entering into it means kything. 21: Listening prayers; listening to the Spirit. Ordinarily we think of prayer as speaking to God, but it is also possible to listen to him. And dancing with the Spirit — there are so many adventures to be had. 22: The Romance. There is a sacred Romance described in, for example, C.S. Lewis’s Pilgrim’s Regress, and Brent Curtis’s Less-Wild Lovers: Standing at the Crossroads of Desire. You do not come to the Romance; the Romance comes to you, although you may respond. Being in that is kything. (I thought I might be able to think of 20 ways of kything… I’ve already gotten past that, by God’s grace.) 23: Silliness. When some friends are doing something silly — tickling or teasing (without going too far — this is something I’m not very good at), for example, it is not thought of in terms of something serious (as ‘serious’ is misunderstood to mean ‘somber’). None the less, there is in the lightheartedness a bond being forged or strengthened, a connection being made. Kything at its best is communication that needs no symbolic content, that has something that can’t be reduced to words. So is grabbing your friend’s nose. 24: Friendship and family relations. This differs from the above items, in that it is not an instantaneous experience resembling an instant of kything. It is rather a bond over time that is more than communication, where hearts touch each other. It is a bond where two people know each other, and in the time spent together a connection accumulates. 25: Agape love. There is a vain phrase, “To know me is to love me,” that might fruitfully be turned around as, “To love me is to know me.” One of the stories in Tales of a Magic Monastery goes roughly as follows: The Crystal Globe I told the guestmaster I’d like to become a monk. “What kind of monk?” he asked. “A real monk?” “Yes,” I said, “a real monk.” He poured a cup of wine, and said, “Here, take this.” No sooner had I drunk it than I became aware of a small crystal globe forming about me. It expanded until it included him. Suddenly, this monk, who had seemed so commonplace, took on an astonishing beauty. I was struck dumb. I thought, “Maybe he doesn’t know how beautiful he is. Maybe I should tell him.” But I really was dumb. The wine had burned out my tongue! After a time, he made a motion for me to leave, and I gladly got up, thinking that the memory of such beauty would be well worth the loss of my tongue. Imagine my surprise when, when each person would unwittingly pass into my globe, I would see his beauty too. Is this what it means to be a real monk? To see the beauty in others and be silent? There have been times that I have been able to see beauty in other people, sometimes beauty that they were not likely aware of. Robin and Joel might not think in these terms, but they have the sight that comes of love. The words, “I never met a man I didn’t like,” bespeak this kind of love. Love is the essence of kything. 26: Passion. When we are filled with passion, we are singleminded and undistracted. Someone said that hate is closer to love than is apathy; if anything is the opposite of kything, it is apathy. Kything need not be associated with intense emotion, but passion has something of the spark of kything. 27: Tears. Crying is cathartic, and comes unbidden at the moments when something comes really close to our heart — be it painful or joyful. My ex-fiancée Rebecca commented that she was impressed at one time she saw me crying in public. My friend Amy, after reading my treatise on touch, said that she wished I had written a treatise on crying — something that is well worth writing, but I don’t have it in me to write. To cry is to kythe. 28: Don a mask. Putting on a mask can be a way of revealing; in role-play, I have through characters found ways of expressing myself that I couldn’t have done otherwise, and many people learn more about themselves through acting. Temporarily putting on a mask allows you to kythe through that mask in a way that wouldn’t occur otherwise. 29: Stand on your head. With familiarity, we don’t really see the things before us; we become Inspector Clouseaus. This is why some painters stood on their heads to look at landscapes — to see afresh what was familiar. Standing on your head is not exactly a way of kything, but it does open up ways to kythe that would normally be overlooked. I just had a change of perspective… I thought about soliciting others’ insights as to ways of kything, but with some guilt, as if thinking about not doing my work. Then I remembered what I was writing about — a connected communion — and that it would be very appropriate to have this be not my isolated work but the work of several minds. So I will solicit and seek the help of others. 30: Stop hurrying. Our culture is obsessed with doing things quickly, and rushes through almost everything. Carl Jung, heretic as he may have been, had rare moments of lucidity; in one of them, he said, “Hurry is not of the Devil. Hurry is the Devil.” Removing hurry, and letting a moment last however long it should last by its own internal timing, is not exactly kything, but it is a removal of one of the chief barriers we face to kything. Kything is a foretaste of the eternal, timeless joy that is to come, and in kything five seconds and five hours are the same. One good idea before trying to kythe is to take off your watch. 31: Walks. I have just come back from a kything walk. It was warm, the ground was moist after rain, the sky was mostly covered by pink clouds, and it was silence — there was even silence in the sound of cars going by. Summer nights, with fireflies and crickets and a crystalline blue sky, are excellent for kything walks. In thinking about this, I realized that what we have is an incarnate kything — spirit moving through matter — while l’Engle portrays what is essentially a discarnate kything — spirit moving without regard to matter. It is also interesting to note that (to me at least) touch is more kything than sight — with sight potentially working at almost any range (we can see stars billions of light-years away), and touch having no range at all. I’m glad that I can absorb the grass around me in a way that I cannot absorb the grass a thousand miles away. 32: Grace. Up until now, I have written about what you can do to kythe, but there is a lot of kything that God initiates and provides. Having a vision is a kind of kything, and that is not anything you can do. My time with God by the railroad tracks was a kything with him that I had no power to create. 33: Looking. I am allergic to cats, and my family has a wonderful grey tabby named Zappy. I usually don’t touch her, but I do sometimes sit and gaze at her for a while. (I just realized that looking at Zappy for a while has the same effect on me as stroking a cat has on most people.) I can recall being warmed by the same gaze as an expectant mother in my small group, Kelly, smiled at me as I stroked Lena’s head (Lena being the 5 year old daughter of the group leader). In medieval culture, beholding the body and blood of Christ at mass was in a sense almost more held to be a receiving, a partaking, than eating and drinking them. The kything power of sight is attested to in Augustine’s words: “See what you believe; become what you behold.” 34: Absorbing poetry. Here is an example of a poem I wrote which I think is effective for the purpose: Beyond doing, there is being. Beyond time, there is eternity. Beyond mortality, there is immortality. Beyond knowledge, there is faith. Beyond justice, there is mercy. Beyond happy thoughts, there is joy. Beyond communication, there is communion. Beyond petition, there is prayer. Beyond work, there is rest. Beyond right action, there is virtue. Beyond virtue, there is the Holy Spirit. Beyond appreciation, there is awe. Beyond sound, there is stillness. Beyond stillness, there is the eternal song. Beyond law, there is grace. Beyond even wisdom, there is love. Beyond all else, HE IS. 35: Mirth. The one line from all of C.S. Lewis’s writing that most sticks in my mind comes from Out of the Silent Planet, where he wrote, “…but unfortunately, [name of villain] didn’t know the Malacandrian word for ‘laugh’. Indeed, ‘laugh’ was a word which he didn’t understand very well in any language.” I debated about whether to put laughter in, as it has many forms — some of which, as the cynic’s scoff, are corrupt, and some of which are lesser goods — but there is at least one form of laughter that really is kything. It is mirth. It can be found, for example, where old friends are sitting around a table after a hearty meal; the laughter is not just a reaction to isolated events, but a mood that has little eruptions over things that aren’t that funny in themselves. It is mingled with companionship and fellow-feeling, and is a mirth that is the crowning jewel of forms of laughter. 36: Becoming good. Websters Revised Unabridged Dictionary 1913, p. 877, has: (Kythe, Kithe) (ki&thlig;), v. t. [imp. Kydde, Kidde (kid”de); p. p. Kythed Kid; p. pr. & vb. n. Kything.] [OE. kythen, kithen, cuden, to make known, AS. cydan, fr. cud known. √45. See Uncouth, Can to be able, and cf. Kith.] To make known; to manifest; to show; to declare. [Obs. or Scot.] For gentle hearte kytheth gentilesse. (Kythe), v. t. To come into view; to appear. [Scot.] It kythes bright . . . because all is dark around it. Sir W. Scott. The latter meaning of ‘kythe’ is the reason Madeleine l’Engle, after a search, chose that word to carry her meaning. C.S. Lewis said that the process of becoming good was like the process of becoming visible, in that objects becoming visible are more sharply distinguished not only from objects in obscurity but from each other; becoming good is becoming more truly the person you were created to be (being Named). Becoming good is kything in the dictionary sense, and it is why I put it here. It is also a kind of kything, and an aid to kything, in l’Engle’s sense — a stepping into the great kythe, into the great dance. It is like learning vocabulary to speech, or a conversation in which one learns vocabulary. 37: Comforting those in pain. Pain can isolate, but it can also bring down the walls around a person. I can remember now one time at a retreat when I was in the long, dark night of the soul, when I drank in a friend’s silent presence and touch like a lifeline. The worst comforters offer words to fix everything with clichés and pat answers. The best often feel somewhat helpless, enduring an awkward silence as if they don’t have anything to offer to so great a pain, but none the less offer something deep, more than they could have put into words, more often than they realize. 38: Presence. This facet of kything is perhaps best portrayed not directly, but in its stark silhouette, painted by Charles Baudelaire in his poem “Enivrez-vous”: <<Il faut etre toujours ivre…. Pour ne pas sentir l’horrible fardeau du Temps qui brise vos épaules et vous penche vers la terre, il faut vous enivrer sans treve. Mais de quoi? De vin, de poésie, ou de vertu, à votre guise….>> — “You must always be drunk…. to not feel the horrible burden of Time which crushes your shoulders and pushes you towards the earth, you must ceaselessly get drunk. But with what? With wine, with poetry, or with virtue, as you please….” Against this silhouette, of seeking something, anything, to flee into, stands out another facet of kything: that of being present, and giving undivided, focused attention. The kind of person you’d like to be around, the kind of person you’d want to have as a friend — isn’t hepresent? 39: Digesting experience. 41: Brainstorming. I think I do not need to say much here. 42: Step into other people’s worlds… Tonight my father, Joseph, and I went to play ping-pong. I didn’t realize one thing I had been doing — playing Joe’s way, Joe’s rules — until I saw Dad make Joseph rather upset by insisting that he play a standard, official rules game of ping-pong. (To his credit, Dad later started playing Joe’s way.) Then I realized that I had been stepping into Joe’s own little world, and meeting him more completely than had I insisted we stay in the public space that all ping-pong players share. Joe didn’t exactly mean to play ping-pong; he wanted to spend some time together, play around, goof off in a way that happened to make use of the framework of ping-pong. Part of the time, he was doing silly things that weren’t ping-pong (such as hitting the ball around the room), which our father frowned on, and I commented were a little bit of Janra-ball (see below), a compliment which Joe said he really appreciated. People invite you into their worlds all the time, but the invitations don’t have much fanfare and can be hard to notice. I’m glad I accepted Joe’s invitation. 43: …and invite others into your own. In one letter, when cherished abilities were beginning to return in the healing, I wrote: The other thing which I have to share now is something which happened during the Gospel reading at the mass. I had my first theological musing in a while. That touched a greater frustration — that of reading some of the richest passages of the Scriptures, and learning almost nothing from them. There had one text that I read and was able to appreciate, if not being able to think much at all (Isaiah 60: “Arise, shine, for your light has come…”). This bleak dryness was broken both mentally and emotionally (there is a distinct and deep pleasure I have in theological reasoning), as I mused over the words: “In my Father’s house there are many dwelling-places [or rooms, or mansions, in other translations].” The most obvious interpretation of this metaphor is to think of a physical building, and that is surely appropriate. But I began to think of another interpretation of the dwelling-places, and that is this: our souls and spirits. We have a temptation and a culture which defines happiness and sadness almost purely in terms of what is materially external to us: our possessions, the way others treat us, etc. That is certainly relevant — in that such blessings are to be gratefully received as a part of God’s grace and provision, and pains are a real suffering to work through — but even more important and more central is what is internal to us and our interactions and relationship with God. Being an alcoholic is a worse suffering than being in prison. It is something related to this insight that is behind many Eastern religions defining Heaven and Hell to be defined almost purely by your internal state. One Zen koan tells us: A Samurai came to a Zen master and said, “Show me the gates of Heaven and Hell.” The Zen master said, “Are you a Samurai? You look much more like a beggar. And that sword — I bet it is so dull that it could not cut off my head.” The enraged Samurai drew his sword, and raised it to strike the master down. The Zen master said, “Now show me the gates of Heaven.” The Samurai sheathed his sword, bowed to the master, and left. A person’s bedroom is a place that has flavor and detail; it is an interesting place to explore, especially as compared to the sterility of a classroom or some other public place. A person’s soul, too, has something of this color and distinctiveness; there are interests, memories, stories, and other things even more vital but which I have more difficulty describing — the particular virtues and vices, the particular tendencies, which cause a person to act unlike any other. A soul, like a house, is a place of hospitality — a guest is invited into a host’s house, to enjoy his comforts, his foods, and a friend is invited into another friend’s soul, to enjoy it in a deeper form of the way in which we enjoy a friend’s house. (In Heaven, there will be very much opportunity for hospitality; it will be the final place of community and celebration, and therefore our dwelling places can hardly be places of isolation.) For many years, I thought of this passage in terms of something of a more ornate, perhaps almost magical, physical edifice that would be nothing more; now, I see what is in retrospect obvious: when the old order of things has passed away and behold, all things are made new, our dwelling places will not simply be better purely physical buildings, but better than purely physical buildings. This is just as our bodies, which are dwelling-places of the Holy Spirit, will not simply be better purely physical bodies, but pneumatikon, spirit-bodies, better than purely physical bodies. I thought before of these rooms as physical rooms which we would decorate with artistic creations — and those artists among you will know what it means, and what a room means, when you are able to fill it with your artwork. I still do believe that — and I realized another form that will take. By our faith, and by our works, we are doing with our spirits what an artist does with a room when he toils over artwork to adorn it with. We are shaping the dwelling places we will have for our eternal play (and one of the images painted of Heaven is one of neither work nor rest, but pure and unbounded play). God is shaping us to become gods and goddesses, but he is not doing it in a way that bypasses us and our free will; we are working with God in the work that will shape us forever. Our souls, like our domiciles, are special places, far more than public places that anybody can enter without asking permission, in which to receive other people. 44: Nursing. The natural focal distance for an adult’s eyes is twenty feet and on; the natural focal distance for an infant’s eyes is eighteen inches, the distance between a woman’s nipple and her nose. (Infants look at, and remember, noses rather than eyes.) Feeding, important as it may be, is only the beginning of what is going on when a mother is nursing a child. To put it another way, the necessity of physical feeding provides the occasion for a kything of love that provides even more necessary spiritual feeding. 45: Pregnancy. A fortiori. 46: Timeless moments. One person, speaking of singing a worship song, suggested thinking not so much in terms of “We start and stop this song,” as “This song always has been going on and always will be going on; we just step into it for a time.” In this spirit, there are moments of kything, often unsought and unattempted, which do not so much start and stop as are a stepping into the Eternal Kythe. 47: Parenting a child with a severe disease. At a bioethics conference, Dr. C. Everett Koop said, “There is a special bond that forms with a defective child, often far moreso than a normal child.” He told a story from the practice of a Jewish pediatrician and colleague. A father lost a second child to Tay-Sachs, a degenerative disease whose people do not live to the age of four. Grieving, he said through tears, “He never gave me a moment’s trouble.” I am not sure why this is, but it may have something to do with why I enjoy a small glass of wine more than a bottomless cup of Coke. 48: Corporate worship. Worship is a foretaste of Heaven, and it plays a focal role in the Eastern Orthodox emphasis on bringing Heaven down to earth; they describe their worship as stepping into Heaven. Worship is also the highest form of love. In these two aspects, at least, worship is kything. Corporate worship is a kything not only with God, but with the others you are worshipping with. 49: Janra-ball. This is a game I devised, and has been described as a Zen NOMIC. To excerpt the ingredients list: Springfield, Monty Python, Calvin-Ball, body language, Harlem Globetrotters, sideways logic, Thieves’ Cant, Intuition, counter-intuitive segues, spoon photography, creativity, Zen koans, Psychiatrist, adrenaline, perception, tickling, urban legend Spam recipe, swallowing a pill, illusionism, NOMIC, modern physics, raw chaos, F.D. & C. yellow number 5. I originally hesitated to put this in, on the grounds that it is difficult to play, at least in a pure state. There’ve been a couple of times I’ve gotten together a group of people willing to play, and it didn’t work. I thought it would require players with more of something — perception, intuition, creativity, spontaneity, etc. — but in thinking recently, I have come to believe that it’s something, like empathic listening, that can’t just be turned on at will, especially by someone inexperienced (which would be everyone now). Joseph’s behavior at the game last night persuaded me that it is indeed possible, perhaps best started at in small increments from a more structured game. (Maybe Pooh’s Corner will be able to play. Who knows?) I will say this: It’s a difficult game to play, but if you can play it, it’s anawesome kythe. 50: Synchronicity/attunement. As treated in The Dance of Life, people have rhythms about them — outside of conscious awareness — and when people are together, these rhythms can become attuned (and, if so, the people themselves are more attuned). This is something that is not as well appreciated in our culture as in others. The easiest example or analogue I can point to (I’m not sure which) is in walking together and holding hands. When I was dating Rebecca, it took me a long time to learn to get in step, and stay in step — but things were smoother when I did. 51: A kind of openness. There is a kind of openness where you perceive something but can’t put your finger on exactly what. If you can listen, be opening, look, then there is a sort of listening kything. I checked out a copy of A Wind in the Door yesterday, and when I was reading through to find insights for more ways of kything, I came on something that I felt was significant to what I’m writing, but I couldn’t say what. I sat then, open, thinking, waiting to see what it was — and then realized that it was not the heart of a way of kything, but something to put at the beginning: What he had actually seen she could not begin to guess. That he had seen something, something unusual, she was positive. This is the same sort of feeling I felt about kything. This is part of how kything is to Charles Wallace: Meg said sharply, “Why? What did mother say?” Charles Wallace walked slowly through the high grass in the orchard. “She hasn’t said. But it’s sort of like radar blipping at me.” This kind of listening kythe is how I get a lot of the ideas for these items. Then [Blajeny] sat up and folded his arms across his chest, and his strange luminous eyes turned inwards, so that he was looking not at the stars nor at the children but into some deep, dark place far within himself, and then further. He sat there, moving in, deeper and deeper, for time out of time. Then the focus of his eyes returned to the children, and he gave his radiant smile and answered Calvin’s question as though not a moment had passed. Introspection is a kything with oneself. 53: Forgiveness. Forgiveness is a spiritual act, a restoration of broken communion. 54: Artistic appreciation. In high school, I made a silver ring, designed to hold a drop of water as a stone. When I started to paint, I learned a new way of seeing. After a painting in which a pair of hands played prominently, I was captivated by the beauty of people’s hands all around me; for the first time in my life, I saw in them a beauty as great as that of faces. What an artist does is allow you to see through his eyes. When you look at a friend’s watercolor, you are seeing the beach through her eyes, as you would not have perceived it yourself. When you read this list, you are thinking about the word ‘kythe’ through my mind. 55: Talking. This one is so obvious I overlooked it completely. The magic of symbols that allows mind-to-mind communication is one that is appreciated, for instance, when trying to work with someone who doesn’t speak a common language with you. 56: Looking into another person, and telling him what you see. I have always enjoyed other people telling me what they see in me. For a time, I thought that was vanity, and vanity certainly played a part. But recently, I have come to see a deeper reason for asking this of other persons. I have for a while enjoyed asking foreigners what they think of American culture, and probed a bit not only for the appreciation they will voice, but criticisms. Most foreigners can articulate the character of American culture better than can most Americans, and they have insights that wouldn’t occur to an American. They see things that have become invisible to Americans. They have a distance, like aesthetic distance, that allows them to see what is too close to be visible to us. For the same or analogous reasons, having another person tell you what he sees in you is another variant on introspection, like using a mirror in looking at yourself to see parts you can’t look at directly. Different people who have known you for different amounts of time can see different parts of you. When you tell another person what you see in him, you provide this sort of introspection; your words fuse with his knowledge of himself to form a deeper self-knowledge, and say more to him than they would mean to anyone else. They connect. They kythe. It is like the story of the crystal globe — only you can tell people how beautiful they are. 57: Driving. In the car this morning, after having to take my brother to school and my mother to work, I was thinking about the podracing in Star Wars: Episode I — one of the most Jedi/Force parts of the movie — and I realized I was really enjoying driving for the first time in years. (I started late in driving, and have a fear of it. I had enjoyed singing while driving, but not driving itself.) I was very aware of my surroundings, and connected, and entered flow. Though I stayed within the speed limit and there were no hazardous conditions, it was in a very real sense podracing. It was a kythe with my surroundings and especially with my car, which was as an extension of my body. It is entirely possible to kythe with technology (and I was seeking an example), to have your hands on a steering wheel or a keyboard so that you are thinking through them, and your thoughts are not on your hands or fingertips, but where the car is moving, or what letters are appearing on the screen. Technology (techne, art + logos, logic, reason, domain of knowledge) is part of the creation of the imago Dei, and therefore has a role in God’s order. There is a tendency for the sort of people interested in kything things to be Luddites, but this need not be. If you can kythe with God, with another person, with a shaggy dog, with the grass, with ideas, with experiences, then you can also kythe with a car, with a computer. 58: Pain. This one will probably be difficult for most Americans to understand, and I’m not sure I can explain it well — here I will probably be talking around my point mostly. We live in a painkilling culture, one that attemps to delete that entire region of human experience, and therefore neither understands nor profits from it. A place to begin is to say that leprosy ravages the body through one very simple means: it shuts off a person’s ability to feel pain. Exactly how shutting off pain causes such severe damage is left as a valuable exercise to the reader’s imagination. Pain is an awareness of your body’s state, and of what you can and cannot do without aggravating an injury. I very rarely take painkillers, because I want to know exactly how my body is doing. (Sunday night was the first time in memory of taking a painkiller not prescribed by a doctor.) In addition, pain is a present sensation; it is not in our nature to not notice. Intense pain can fill consciousness. (Some mentally ill people self-mutilate because the sensation of physical pain, if only momentarily, can take them out of their mental anguish.) If all our kything is as real as pain, we are doing well. 59: DeathWhat was said about pain and our culture applies, mutatis mutandis, to death and our culture. (I don’t know any good books on pain; a good, deep book on death is Peter Kreeft’s Love is Stronger Than Death.) In other kythes, you kythe love, or ideas, or listening; in this kythe, you kythe yourself. The art of dying well is an art of letting go of a world you’ve known for years and giving yourself fully to God. That’s about as full of a message as you can send. 60: Gift-giving. A good gift is at least three messages: a statement about the nature of the person giving the gift, a statement about the nature of the person receiving the gift, and something else peculiar to the character of the gift. None of these messages are symbolically encoded, and the result is that they can say things inexpressible in normal words. A gift is not worth a thousand words; there is no exchange rate between gifts and words. 61: Reminiscing. Reminiscing is a kything with memories. 62: Local traditions. There are traditions, like Pooh’s Corner or Club Pseudo (a tradition at my high school, similar to an open mike at a coffeehouse). These traditions have a unique local flavor and personality, and create a special bond among participants. Janra-ball, if it works, would be another example. 63: Community. Community is like friendship, but it does not reduce to friendship. A community is more than a set of friendships, as a friendship is more than two isolated individuals. 64: Ellis lifeguarding. This entry should not be written by me; it should be written by my high school acquaintance Chuck Saletta. American Red Cross lifeguards are taught to respond to problems; Ellis lifeguards are taught to see them coming. Chuck has written that he knows ahead of time when a swimmer is going to be in distress, and also that on the highway he watches the cars ahead of him and is usually able to tell whether or not they’ll turn on an exit — before they put their turn signals on. That has to involve an attention and attunement to the situation that is noteworthy. “Has Mother actually told you all this?” “Some of it. The rest I’ve just—gathered.” Charles Wallace did gather things out of his mother’s mind, out of meg’s mind, as another child might gather daisies in a field. This is another passage that sticks in my mind as an insight into kything. I gather when I muse, when I have certain intuitions. I gather passages from the book. Where do you gather? 66: Firing a ballista at your television. Television is a crawling abomination from the darkest pits of Hell. It is a pack of cigarettes for the mind. It blinds the inner eye. It is the anti-kythe. When I was in fourth grade, we read The Last of the Really Great Wang-Doodles, and then drew pictures. My teacher commented that she could tell from the pictures who watched TV. A home without television is like a slice of chocolate cake without tartar sauce. Get rid of your television, and you will find yourself living life more fully, and kything more deeply. Two good books dealing with this topic are Neil Postman’s concise and lively Amusing Ourselves to Death: Public Discourse in an Age of Show Business, and Jerry Mander’s in-depth Four Arguments For the Elimination of Television. 67: Boundaries. Boundaries are an important part of friendship; the boundaries of a message give it shape; drinking a certain amount of wine and then stopping enables you to enjoy it without becoming drunk. Boundaries are a kind of kythe, and also a part of other kythes; a hug is best if it is neither too short nor too long. 68: Thunderstorms. Imagine that you are a child, outside in a thunderstorm at night, with the rain warm and heavy, the wind blowing about, the trees dancing, everything suddenly illumined by flashes of lightning. Wild nights are my glory. This is a night to connect with, to drink in. (Idea taken from Robin Munn.) 69: Using a knack. I am adept at finding pressure points on the body — not just the ones I know, but the ones I don’t know. I can tell from looking if a person will say ‘yes’ or ‘no’ to a hug. More fallibly, I can sometimes guess if a person is ticklish (hi, Ashley!). I don’t know how I do any of these things, but these knacks are a form of kything. 70: Trying to kythe. I think it was Richard Foster who said that the very act of struggling to pray is itself a form of prayer. Last night during Pooh’s Corner, my fear of driving began to act up, and I walked out of the building thinking, “I won’t be able to kythe now. I’m not in the proper frame of mind.” Then I realized — no, I could kythe. I couldn’t produce the same end result, but I could put myself into it. A small child’s crayon drawing of a five-legged dog whose head is larger than its body is a beautiful thing, and it is made beautiful not by the performance criteria that a commercial product would be judged by, but by the love and effort that went into it. I have attention deficit disorder. I can hyperfocus at times (exactly which times being largely out of my control), but quite often I haven’t connected with Pooh’s Corner. I haven’t been in the silliness, drinking it in even as an observer. What I have realized in writing this entry is that that doesn’t matter nearly as much as I thought it did, just as the crudity of the above described drawing doesn’t matter very much. It doesn’t matter if I often don’t succeed. I try. I kythe. 71: Weight lifting. The amount of force coming from a muscle is the result, not only of the muscle’s size and condition, but the amount of nervous impulse coming from the brain. People can normally summon only a small fraction of the total possible muscle impulse. One case where there can be full or near-full exertion is when people are terrified; they can possess something called hysterical strength, where it is entirely possible for a small, middle-aged woman to lift the back end of a car. Another is an epileptic seizure; in my EMT class, we were told not to try to restrain someone having a seizure, because bones will snap sooner than muscle strength will give out. I trained with weights for a few years, and doing so was largely on will. I had pencil-thin arms and legs as a child, and worked to the point of having a Greek figure. (I now have a Greek figure plus a paunch, but we won’t get into that.) I got to the point of being able to lift the full stack (as much resistance as a machine designed for football players can give) on the better part of the machines, and (in moments of being macho and trying to do something I could brag about) walked a couple of short steps while carrying over 400 pounds of weight, and injured my hand by punching through stone tiles. I didn’t get much bigger after a certain point. Only a small portion of my doing those things was muscle. The rest was mind. Many of the items above have been kythes of drinking in. This a kythe of putting out. 72: Doing something new and difficult. When you are skilled at something, you don’t have to put much of yourself into it to succeed. In high school, I put a lot of effort into trying to learn how to balance on a slack rope. I never really succeeded at what I aimed for, but I learned a couple of things. My balance improved a lot. One person watching me said it was like watching the sensei catching flies with chopsticks, in The Karate Kid. Even if I didn’t succeed at my intention, I learned to put my whole self into it. 73: Going through a difficult experience together. Meg and Mr. Jenkins came to know each other in a way that never would have happened had things been light and sunny. It may not be seen for the pain at the moment, but afterwards a growing-closer has happened. 74: Intuitions. Being attuned to, and using, your intuition is another way of kything. 75: Knowing others. [Meg:] “…Did you know it was one of Calvin’s brothers who beat Charles Wallace up today? I bet he’s upset—I don’t mean Whippy, he couldn’t care less—Calvin. Somebody’s bound to have told him.” [Mrs. Murray:] “Do you want to call him?” “Not me. Not Calvin. I just have to wait. Maybe he’ll come over or something.” One form of communion comes from knowing another person so well that communication is unnecessary. There is something more in this passage than if Meg had called Calvin — far more. 76: The useless. Many of those areas of human intercourse which are cut out by American pragmatism are the areas of speech which most embody kything. Within speech, talking about how to get something done is not a kythe — certainly not compared to a discussion which conveys love or insight or theory. Kything is something that’s not in Pierce’s and Dewey’s practical world. 77: Culture. Culture, often invisible to us, is a shared kythe across a group of people. It is the framework for communication, a kythe that gives other kythes their shape. 78: Wordless knowledge. When I was at Innes’s house, she asked me if I thought my twin brothers Ben and Joe were introverted, extroverted, etc. My first response, after a bit of a pause, was, “I don’t know.” I thought some more, and realized that the truth was slightly different: it had never occurred to me to think about them in those terms. After I read Stranger in a Strange Land, I began to realize that many of my deepest thoughts were not in English, not for that matter in anything like verbal language. When I write them down, it is usually a translation, and sometimes matter a far more difficult translation than between English and French. It is more like trying to translate a song into a poem. These thoughts are of a wordless thinking, like the kything of the fara. Personal Knowledge, a profound book and an excellent cure for insomnia, deals with those facets of human thought and interaction that do not reduce to words. 79: Being underwater. I felt that this was a kythe, but couldn’t put my finger on how. I still can’t fully articulate it, but it has a similar feel to a visual kythe. The beginning of A Dream of Light provides a good description of an underwater kythe: You pull your arms to your side and glide through the water. On your left is a fountain of bubbles, upside down, beneath a waterfall; the bubbles shoot down and then cascade out and to the surface. To your right swims a school of colorful fish, red and blue with thin black stripes. The water is cool, and you can feel the currents gently pushing and pulling your body. Ahead of you, seaweed above and long, bright green leaves below wave back and forth, flowing and bending. You pull your arms, again, with a powerful stroke which shoots you forward under the seaweed; your back feels cool in the shade. You kick, and you feel the warmth of the sun again, soaking in and through your skin and muscles. Bands of light dance on the sand beneath you, as the light is bent and turned by the waves. There is a time of rest and stillness; all is at a deep and serene peace. The slow motion of the waves, the dancing lights below and above, the supple bending of the plants, all form part of a stillness. It is soothing, like the soft, smooth notes of a lullaby. Your eyes slowly close, and you feel even more the warm sunlight, and the gentle caresses of the sea. And, in your rest, you become more aware of a silent presence. You were not unaware of it before, but you are more aware of it now. It is there: Like a tree with water slowly flowing in, through roots hidden deep within the earth, and filling it from the inside out, you abide in the presence. It is a moment spent, not in time, but in eternity. You look out of the eternity; your eyes are now open because you have eternity in your heart and your heart in eternity. In the distance, you see dolphins; one of them turns to you, and begins to swim. The others are not far off. It lets you pet its nose, and nestles against you. You grab on to its dorsal fin, and go speeding off together. The water rushes by at an exhilarating speed; the dolphin jumps out of the water, so that you see waves and sky for a brief moment before splashing through the surface. The dolphins chase each other, and swim hither and thither, in and out from the shore. After they all seem exhausted, they swim more slowly, until at last you come to a lagoon. In the center, you see a large mass; swimming closer, you see that it is a sunken ship. You find an opening… 80: Becoming ancient. Most entries so far have focused on what you do when you kythe. This is an entry about who you are. When you are ancient, you have had ages to let God work with you. You have had time to grow mature. You have gained experience. You have lived through many events and circumstances. You have smiled on generations. You have experienced change, both without you and within you. You have learned what is constant, both without you and within you. You have grown wise. You kythe with depth, with reality. You are like Senex (whose name means ‘aged’), like the fara — deep, rooted, moving without motion, sharing in the age (however faintly) of the Ancient of Days. Become all this, and you will kythe. 81: Becoming a child. When you are a child, you look with wonder at every bit of the world God has made; you do not know jadedness. You do not know guile; it would never occur to you to wear a mask. You play. You are never afraid to come running for a hug. You stay out in the rain. You always want to grow. You always want to know, “Why?” You bear a peace no storm has troubled. You can believe anything. You are like the little farandolae, dancing, swimming. Become all this, and you will kythe. 82: Doing something for its own sake. Someone said that a classic is a book that everybody wants to have read and nobody wants to read. There is a big difference between reading a book because you want to have read it, and reading it because you want to read it. The former is something to endure, the latter something to enjoy. For a while, when I drove, I would often drive five or ten miles under the limit, and when I started driving at the limit, it was mainly as a courtesy to not stress other drivers, and because I started driving on streets with heavier traffic where it would be hazardous to drive that much more slowly than the flow of traffic. I do not generally get tense (for reasons other than my fear of driving, and blunders I make as I still learn to drive), have nervous fidgets, get angry, or experience stress at red lights, slow traffic, and other delays that shoot some drivers’ blood pressure through the roof. The reason is that I am operating within a mindset of “I am driving; I am in the process of getting there; I will be there,” as opposed to “I need to be therenow, and I am tolerating this drive because it is the least slow means of getting there, and— Hey! That’s another second’s delay. Ooh, that makes me mad!” Pirsig treats this point at some length in the section of Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance that deals with climbing and his son’s ego climbing. Of course many activities are means to other activities, and we would be in a bad state if we couldn’t do one thing to get at something else. But even then, intermediate activities that are trampled on are not good to do. Really wanting to do something, and doing it for its own sake, is a kythe with the activity that is better for both you and the activity. Through [Mr. Jenkins’s] discouragement she became aware of Calvin. “Hey, Meg! Communication implies sound. Communion doesn’t.” He sent her a brief image of walking silently through the woods, the two of them alone together, their feet almost noiseless on the rusty carpet of pine needles. They walked without speaking, without touching, and yet they were as close as it is possible for two human beings to be. They climbed up through the woods, coming out of the brilliant sunlight at the top of the hill. A few sumac trees showed their rusty candles. Mountain laurel, shiny, so dark a green the leaves seemed black in the fierceness of sunlight, pressed towards the woods. Meg and Calvin had stretched out in the thick, late-summer grass, lying on their backs and gazing up into the shimmering blue of sky, a vault interrupted only by a few small clouds. And she had been as happy, she remembere, as it is possible to be, and as close to Calvin as she had ever been to anybody in her life, even Charles Wallace, so close that their separate bodies, daisies and buttercups joining rather than dividig them, seemed a single enjoyment of summer and sun and each other. That was surely the purest form of kything. When I was in France, Rebecca wrote a letter about some of the moments she valued most with me. There was one moment when we went into the fine arts center, and I improvised on the organ for her, and then we sat in the silence in the dark not saying anything not doing anything Other people had talked with her and done things with her. I was the first person to be in the silence with her, and it profoundly affected her. 84: Dodge-ball. When I thought of this during a slow, back-burner brainstorm, I initially wanted to put it in because of pride and boastfulness: I wanted to impress you with how talented I am. Then I realized what I was thinking, and realized that was entirely out of place, and decided to definitely leave it out. But I still had some idle thoughts about it mulling about… and I mused… and realized something amazing. This definitely belongs in. In dodge-ball, I couldn’t throw worth beans. Still can’t. But, in a lock-in for sophomores at IMSA, I joined a game of dodge-ball, and hid around in the back… and noticed that there were fewer and fewer people left on my team… and then I was one of two… and then the only one. Then, for five minutes, i dodged the whole other team throwing at me, sometimes four or five balls at once, and then a ball brushed me. When I stopped and began to slow down, I realized that the soles of my bare feet were burning hit from the friction of my jumping. After another game like that, people decided that if it got down to the other team versus me, the game was a draw. One of the upperclassmen supervising, Paul Vondrak, was a great thrower; he was able not only to throw accurately, but to throw much faster than anyone else. He would stand, wind up slowly, and throw like lightning. I think it only took him about five throws to nick me. I was thinking about this latter item, and (examining the memory) realized that I was paying very close attention to him… then realized that I was attuned to him… then thought that it was almost like a martial artist… and then realized, in a flash of insight, that in the one game I was doing the same thing a Samurai does when he defeats ten men. I do not understand exactly why I was able to do this without any special training or experience, although it does lend some corroboration to the puzzling fact that as a karate white belt I was able to defeat two out of three of my blackbelt instructors in sparring. Now I know that I have had an experience I would not ordinarily expect to have access to. I guess I would chalk it up to an unusual talent for certain kinds of kything. I was trying to analyze my state of mind in (especially) the five minute dodge at the end, and the first thing I realized was that I don’t remember that state of mind too well — not as well as I remember feeling that my feet were hot afterwards. From what I remember, my state of mind differed from normal consciousness. A hint of an explanation would be to say that the perceptual processing alone would have severely overloaded my conscious mind. It could also be described as flow or podracing. I know there’s more, but I can’t get at it. If I can better process this memory, I think I will better understand kything. As I mull over this, I think that those five minutes may qualify as the most intense kythe of my life. 85: Reading another person’s body languages and emotions. As telekinesis is really moving things with your arms and telepathy is really talking, Charles Wallace’s awareness, without being told, of what’s going on in meg is really a perception of others’ emotions. This is the origin for the spark of beauty in that facet of Charles Wallace’s kything, and it is an area where I’d like to grow. [The Shal’s] moments of community are profound; their moments of solitude are even more profound. `Withdrawing’ is what they call it; it is a time of stillness, and an expression of a love so profound that all other loves appear to be hate. It is a time of finding a secret place, and then withdrawing — from family, friends, and loved ones, from music and the beauty of nature, from cherished activities, from sensation — into the heart of the Father. It is a time of — it is hard to say what. Of being loved, and of loving. Of growing still, and becoming. Of being set in a right state, and realigned in accordance with the ultimate reality. Of purity from the Origin. Of being made who one is to be. Of communion and worship. Of imago dei filled with the light of Deus. Of being pulled out of time and knowing something of the eternal. 87: Zoning out. This is one of the last places one would look for kything; Robin observed that one of the central themes tying these entries together is presence, and this would seem to be the essence of absence. For all that… I found myself spacing out, and left the spacing out for introspection, and realized that my mental and emotional state was that of kything. A start of an explanation is that if it is an absence, it is entirely devoid of the Baudelarian flight urged in Enivrez-vous. It is a present absence; it goes into It is an egoless sliding into enjoyment. It is still and peaceful; it is quite restful; it is a good. Being in a similar attitude will help other kythes. 88: Playing Springfield. Springfield is a game with very simple rules: two people alternate naming state capitals, and the first person to name Springfield wins. What makes it interesting is that it’s not a game of mathematical strategy. It’s a game of perception. The real objective is to win as late as possible, and that means reading the other person and seeing how far you can go: from nonverbal cues, you need to read his mind. Springfield is probably comparable to poker. 89: Thinking deeply, prolongedly, and intensely about a question. I realized today that I had been thinking pretty hard about kything for several days, and thought I should take a sabbath from it: I would record ideas that I had, but not intentionally give conscious thought to the question. It was after I did that that I began to realize how deeply I had been kything with the idea of kything. The first thing I noticed was that it was hard to stop thinking. The second thing I realized was that I was still thinking of ways of kything. I probably don’t have to devote any more conscious effort to thinking to complete the number of entries. When you think in that manner, for a sufficient length of time, your thought acquires the momentum of a frieght train. Mathematicians solve some of the most difficult problems after long and intense thought, and then cessation of conscious thought, usually to the point of forgetting it — and the solution comes. If it can be solved by continuous thought, it is not among the most difficult problems; the mathematician is not exercising his full abilities. When the storm ceases and the surface of the ocean stills, then the Leviathan stirs in the deeps. Deep calls to deep. This is perhaps the most profound kythe with an idea. 90: Experience. Experience in a domain constitutes and enables a kythe with that domain. My Mom asked me if I had a universal adaptor for her tape recorder, and I pulled one and said, “Is this the right jack? If it isn’t, I have another.” She said, “I don’t know, let me see.” A short while afterwards, she called me over to look at it, because “it seems to have two prongs.” I looked at, and instantly realized that it didn’t need an adaptor. It needed a power cord. I was mildly irritated, and was finally able to put my finger on something I’d felt. Answering her help requests with technology has the same feel to me as explaining things to a small, naive child who doesn’t understand how the world works. She sees technology as this mysterious, unpredictable black box which works by magic. I thought a little more, as my mother is neither naive nor childish. She is an intelligent and well-educated woman. What I realized was that I was not appreciating my own experience. Experience enables a person to look at the surface and see the depths — and a port for a power cord does not look fundamentally different from what a port for an adaptor might be. I see a computer as having definite inner workings which work according to understandable principle; when the computer is malfunctioning, I think I have a chance of understanding why. If my Mom thinks that the computer is a black box (you can see what it does, but not what’s inside it), I think of it as a white box (you can see what’s going on inside, and try to fix it if need be). The way I look at computers might be compared to the topographical anatomy I was taught in my EMT class, where you look at skin and see the underlying organs. You kythe more when you’re interacting with a white box than with a black box, and that comes with experience. 91: Closing your eyes. [Charles Wallace] closed his eyes, not to shut out Louise, not to shut out Meg, but to see with his inner eyes. I closed my eyes when visiting my friend Innes’s house, and I realized what I was doing, and why: to focus, to connect, to concentrate. This is why couples close their eyes when they kiss; this is why we have the custom of closing our eyes when we pray. The image of a blind seer is a part of myth and literature; when we close our eyes, we momentarily blind ourselves so we can see. 92: Mental illness. Mental illness is not exactly a purely negative thing. It is a difference that is ecological in character, with positive as well as negative aspects. This very dark cloud has a silver lining, sometimes a mithril lining. This is why people with mental illness speak of a gift — something that puzzled me when I first heard it. 93: Mental health. If mental illness is a way of kything, then mental health is definitely a way of kything. Robin is a good friend and an excellent listener, and he radiates health. And Joel — Robin once mentioned a theatre professor saying of his predecessor that with most people, they walk into a room and it’s “What about me?” His predecessor walks into the room and it’s, “What about you?” I remember thinking, “I’d like to have a friend like that,” and then, “I would like to be like that.” A day later, I realized that I do have a friend like that: Joel. With Joel, it’s “What about you?” Joel is probably the best kyther I know. 94: Watching or studying a kythe. [Meg] found herself looking directly into one of his eyes, a great, amber cat’s eye, the dark mandala of the pupil, opening, compelling, beckoning. She was drawn towards the oval, was pulled into it, was through it. My brothers were playing, and I was watching Ben and Joe play. I became aware of an energetic character to the play, and then I recognized a kythe a split second before remembering the entry about play as kything. So I decided to watch — and then I realized I was in the kythe. 95: Nature. To be out in the woods, or looking at night at the sapphire sky and crystalline stars, or listen to the sounds of a forest, or to play with an animal, or wade barefoot through a cold, babbling brook — these are ways of kything with nature. (Taken from Innes Sheridan.) 96: Swallowing a pill. Learning to swallow a pill was a long and traumatic experience for me; for the longest time, I tried my hardest and just couldn’t do it. The reason was precisely that I was trying my hardest: I was trying much too hard. When I finally did learn, I learned far better than most; I can now swallow several decent-sized pills on a sip of water — when I was last hospitalized, the nurses remarked at how little water I needed, and told me to drink more. In what is for the most people a minor learning experience, I came to really appreciate how easy swallowing a pill is — to easy to force or accomplish by willpower. In this regard, it is not only an example of kything, but a symbol. Do, or do not. There is no try. 97: Mystical experiences. These are bestowed by God, and are not human doing; visions may come once or twice in a person’s life, not at all for most people. When they do happen, they are a special moment of grace, and communion with God, and they can leave a person changed for life. 98: Massage. Being able to do backrubs is a good skill to take to college campuses. When you give another person a massage, you communicate with his body through touch, and relax the flesh, the body, and the person you are touching, more fully than he can himself. It is different from many other touches, in that it is not spontaneous or habitual; it is a special time set aside to connect. 99: Saying farewell. Parting is such sweet sorrow. When someone’s leaving, people say many of the things that they should have said long before but never got around to. Barriers come down. People realize how much others mean. They cry. That is an obvious insight into saying farewell. What is less obvious is that these things can happen at any time. It is not so much that people can’t normally commune in this manner and are specially enabled to when someone leaves, as that people normally avoid this communion, and when some leaves they realize how bad it would be to them at any point. You can tell someone how much they mean to you any day. I did something like this for Robin recently, as I stopped from writing this to think about practicing what I was preaching. He and I are both glad I did. One part of the barriers coming down is that sharing yourself is inherently risky, and there is less risk if a person is leaving — if you share something that makes the other person think you are stupid, at least he’ll be away. So people share more. If you realize this, you can share on ordinary days what you would normally share when saying farewell — and grow closer. It might be a good idea to hold a farewell party for someone when he’s not going away. The same may be said for a funeral — there is something magnificent that goes on at a funeral, that doesn’t really have to wait for a person’s death. 100: Anything. Thursday night, I was at a band concert at Ben and Joe’s school. Afterwards, when walking through the mass of people, there was a moment when I was looking down into a little girl’s face, and as it passed I realized I was kything. There is a sense in which anything can be kything, if it is done in the right way. Now we kythe darkly and through a glass. Then we shall kythe fully, spirit to spirit, even as we are fully kythed.

BEST Upside Down Fig Cake w/ Walnuts & Rosemary You must be sick of me and my stupid upside down cakes by now. Sorry, not sorry. I have the formula down pat by now, and I can basically add any fruit and it just works and the cakes look so beautiful. Anytime a new fruit comes to town, I have to bake an upside down cake showcasing the season's best and ripest. Well folks, they are here. Beautiful, ripe figs from my little tree. We have a potted fig tree that we bring inside in the winter. We keep it in the basement stairwell under Bilco doors. No light, no water. My husband pruned it back last winter and I was quite upset, I thought he hacked it. Instead, I have the largest bounty of figs on this little tree! Over 60! So let's bake a cake! I have a few upside down fig cakes, but this is the one. I have perfected the recipe from some others I have posted over the years, but trust me when I say, this is the BEST one. It is moist and delicious and I almost ate the whole cake in one day. It's so good, every time I walked by it, I cut myself a slice. Ok, enough talking about the damn cake, let's bake it. BEST Upside Down Fig Cake.....ever: For the topping: 4 tablespoons unsalted butter 3/4 cup brown sugar about 10-12 fresh, ripe or dried figs (you may need a couple more or less, depending on their size) 2 teaspoons fresh rosemary, finely chopped, divided 2-3 tablespoons walnuts, roughly chopped For the cake: 1 cup all-purpose flour 1 teaspoon baking powder 1/8 teaspoon salt 4 tbsp melted butter 1 cup granulated sugar zest of a large lemon 1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract 1/4 cup buttermilk or sour cream The topping is your basic caramel for upside down cakes that I make all the time. The formula is pretty much always the same. I used a Nordicware stainless 9" round cake pan for this one. You can also bake this in a cast iron skillet (even an all-clad stainless). Do NOT use nonstick cookware for this, or you will not get a nice caramel hard topping. I greased the sides of the cake pan with extra butter, to insure easy flipping. Melt the butter and brown sugar directly in the cake pan on the stove for a minute or 2 (if your cake pan is not flame resistant, then heat the sugar/butter in the oven in the pan instead). Using a silicone spatula, swirl this mixture around to coat the bottom of the cake pan. Turn off the heat. You should have a layer of brown syrup in the pan. Lay your sliced figs, flesh side down, in a nice pattern in the caramel. Fill in the gaps with the chopped walnuts and rosemary, working quickly before the caramel hardens. Now you are ready to make your batter. Preheat oven to 350F. Mix the dry ingredients in a bowl. Wet ingredients in another. Combine the both, adding in the buttermilk last. Once you have a nice yellow batter, pour this over the figs, walnuts and rosemary caramel in the cake pan. Bake exactly 40 minutes. Let rest exactly 10 minutes, no more. Run a knife around the edges and carefully invert onto a cooling rack. I promise it won't stick to the pan. If any fruit comes loose, just put it back on the cake. What else can I say about this pretty thing, except enjoy.

Today, 4 April 2013, is the 10th celebration of International Carrot Day, the day to dress in orange and celebrate the wholesome goodness of these versatile and delicious orange vegetables. I wonder whether Carrot Day being celebrated so close to Easter has anything to do with the Easter Bunny’s love of carrots? Whether you like carrots in a meaty stew, as part of a vegetable curry, on its own in a salad, steamed and served sweet with a touch of sugar, or juiced for an invigorated drink, there’s no shortage of ways to enjoy these delicious veges on Carrot Day. For a slightly more decadent celebration, you can even bake a deliciously moist carrot cake or a traditional English carrot pudding! Did you know that the carrot is a member of the parsley family? And apparently it was originally grown for medicinal purposes (mainly for its aromatic leaves and seeds) before its edible taproot became popular as a food source. Of course carrots are a great source of beta carotene (the reason for their orange colour), that gets absorbed by the liver and converted to Vitamin A. Interestingly, eaten raw, we only absorb between 3 and 4% of the beta carotene in carrots during digestion. When the carrots are steamed, cooked or juiced, however, the absorption rate can be increased up to 10-fold. A shortage of Vitamin A in the body can cause poor vision (night vision in particular) – a situation that can be treated and restored through Vitamin A supplementation. For this reason, it has become a popular urban legend that eating large amounts of carrots will enable you to see in the dark. Sorry to burst that bubble, but over-consumption of carrots is more likely to lead to ‘carotenosis’, a benign condition where the skin (especially the insides of the hand and feet) and the whites of the eyes, turn a shade of orange. Because of their beta-carotene content, carrots are sometimes included in poultry-feed to deepen the colour of egg-yolks. Carrots are also a good source of fibre and are rich in antioxidants and trace minerals. And if that’s not enough reason to grow a crop of carrots in your vege garden, it has also been suggested that carrots are good companion crops – grown intercropped with tomatoes increases tomato-production, and if left to flower, carrots attract wasps that are beneficial in killing many garden pests. All in all, a great vegetable, and definitely worth a day of celebration.

Summertime Fruits and Vegetables for Pets It’s summertime and that means warmer temperatures are being faced by both people and pets in all parts of the U.S. As we strive to keep cool despite elevated temperatures, our attention turns to refreshing beverages and treats made of fresh fruits and vegetables. Many owners do not realize that there is a plethora of human foods that can be fed to pets that have a cooling effect, provide moisture, and pack a punch of whole-food nutrition. Only a 10% loss of the total body fluids can lead to serious illness, so it’s crucial for owners to frequently promote pet hydration in warm environments and eating food-based moisture is a generally healthy means of doing so. As a holistic veterinarian, I am a big proponent of pets eating a diet rich in whole foods, including real fruits and vegetables. In my practice I use this strategy to reduce the quantity of processed pet foods and treats made with feed-grade ingredients, artificial colors and flavors, and chemical preservatives that owners seemingly gravitate toward when feeding their canine and feline companions. Here are my recommendations for fresh fruits and vegetables to give to your pets and those that should be avoided for concern of creating health problems. Fruit- sweet and nutrient-rich snacks or meal additives Fresh or frozen fruits can be given as a cooling and healthy snack packing moisture, fiber, antioxidant, vitamins, and minerals. Apple, apricot, banana, blackberry, blueberry, cantaloupe, cherry, melon, pear, plum, raspberry, strawberry, and watermelon are my top picks as they are typically accessible in grocery stores and farmer’s markets regardless of season. Sweet fruits tend to be more appealing to pets than those that are bland or bitter. Ripening enhances fruits sweetness and palatability, so serve them ripe to increase the likelihood they will be willingly consumed by your pet. Outer skins (banana, melon, etc.) should be removed or opened (berries, etc.) to reveal the inner fruit. Fruit can also be mashed or pureed and added to your dog’s current food. You can even blend various fruits with enough water to create a smoothie that can be served as a refreshing and nutritious beverage or frozen (without a stick, of course) to create your own D.I.Y. ‘pupsicles.’ Always be cautious in the size of the piece of fruit you give to your pet. Any provided piece should be small enough that it can be easily chewed and not swallowed as a large chunk that could potentially cause choking by getting caught in the esophagus or trachea. Fruits to Avoid Not all fruits are appropriate snacks for pets. Avoid feeding grapes, raisins, currants, and their juices, all of which have potential for toxicity. The reasons behind the toxic potential for these fruits is unknown, but it’s best to completely avoid the chance your pet could suffer life-threatening kidney failure after consumption of only a few pieces. I recommend fresh or frozen fruits over their dried counterparts, as dried fruits are high in calories and can contain chemical preservatives like sulfur dioxide. Additionally, as we never know what will be ‘the next’ raisin or currant I suggest stick to fresh or frozen forms. If your household has children or less-than-responsible teenagers or adults, make sure to educate them on the dangers certain fruits and other foods have for pets. The ASPCA Animal Poison Control Center (APCC) provides a great resource of Toxic and Non-Toxic Plants and People Foods to Avoid Feeding Your Pets. Always confirm the safety of any fruit or other human food snack before feeding it to your pooch. Vegetables- crunchy, moist, fiber-full, and satisfying There are many vegetables you can give as snacks or use in your pet’s food to provide beneficial nutrients often deficient in commercially available foods and treats. The crunch produced when your pet bites into a vegetable can also give a safer sense of satisfaction than that produced by chewing on potentially tooth-traumatizing bone or antler or a piece of kibble or biscuit made with feed-grade ingredients. The fiber found in vegetables (and fruit) can help fill your pet’s stomach and increase satiety so that portions of commercially-available dry or canned food can be reduced. In doing so, weight loss or maintenance of a healthy body condition score (BCS, according to The Ohio State University College of Veterinary Medicine Body Condition Scoring Chart) can occur without your pet experiencing the unpleasant sensation of food deprivation. Veggies that grow above ground like broccoli, cauliflower, cucumber, mushroom, spinach, tomato, etc. are typically high in moisture and low in calories. Below ground-growing vegetables like white and sweet potato, turnip, etc. generally contain less moisture and are higher caloric density. Carrots and radishes are an exception to this rule. Most dogs are drawn to carrots due to their sweetness but can be averse to radishes as a result of their spiciness. Both above and below-ground options can benefit your pet’s digestive health and overall wellness, but I suggest providing more of the above-ground varieties and less of those that grow below ground (but for carrots) as snacks. Broccoli gets a bad reputation as having toxic potential for pets, but such is the case only if large volumes are consumed. Otherwise, giving your pooch a piece or two of broccoli crown or letting him chew on the stalk is generally safe. Tomatoes also have the reputation of potentially causing toxicity. Unripened tomatoes and their vines, stems, and leaves contain tomatine, an alkaloid that can cause digestive upset and neurologic signs (tremors, twitches, seizures, etc.). Ripened tomatoes are safe for pets to eat. If your pet resists eating a raw vegetable, then lightly steam and mash the vegetables for easy mixing into his meals. Cooked vegetables are easier to digest and less-likely to induce flatulence (gas) and stool changes. Potatoes should have their sprouts and any green, brown, or otherwise discolored areas removed before cooking and serving. Potato sprouts contain concentrated amounts of glycoalkaloids, which can negatively affect your pet’s nervous system. Discolored skins contain solanum alkaloids that can cause digestive tract upset and cardiac arrhythmias. Raw potatoes contain oxalates that can cause digestive tract upset, kidney damage, and nervous system abnormalities. How Can Owners Incorporate Fruits and Vegetables into Their Pets’ Dietary Regimens? Start with a small quantity of fruit and vegetables, such as a few berries, an inch wide/long/thick slice of melon, or a tablespoon of mash or puree. Note any changes in bowel movements and urination (larger volume, altered color or smell, pattern variations, etc), which indicates your pet’s digestive tolerance of fruit and vegetable treats. If your pet digestively tolerates this sample size, then slowly and consistently increase the volume. To minimize the chance your dog and human family members will be affected by food-borne illness, the FDA offers helpful tips on produce safety, including purchasing, storage, and preparation. Thoroughly washing fruit and vegetables with soap and water can help remove environmental debris and infectious organisms. Sodium Hypochlorite (household bleach) solutions of 0.0314% or greater will kill surface-dwelling bacteria. If you can’t even manage to have fresh fruits and vegetable available for yourself, baby foods can serve as tasty options for your pet. Pet-safe baby foods lack onion or garlic powder, starch, chemical preservatives, artificial colors, added sugar, other ingredients that otherwise wouldn’t be present in nature’s original version. Before you embark on the task of radically changing your pet’s diet to incorporate large volumes of fruits and vegetables schedule a consultation and examination with your veterinarian. Veterinarians that have holistic training and experience tend to be more open minded when it comes to feeding pets diets or snacks of fruits, vegetables, and other human-foods. You can find a holistic veterinarian in your area via www.AHVMA.org. I hope your pet enjoys the addition of fruit and vegetables into his dietary regimen as snacks and regular components of meals this summer and all year long. Feel free to share your experiences feeding your pets fruits and vegetables.

Click here to get copycat recipes from your favorite restaurants. 100s to choose from. The Essential Human Factor by: padre art "Bread is like dresses, hats and shoes - in other words, essential." --- Emily Post It has been bread making that has helped or even driven human civilization. This is especially true of pre-pottery cultures. You might even say bread has made us human. Archeological digs that are almost 20,000 years old have yielded grains of wild ‘Emmer’ wheat used by our distant ancestors. Evidence shows that as far back as 10,000 BCE, at least, people were cultivating a species of Emmer. This early cultivation appears to have occurred about the same time in what is now Turkey and India. The idea traveled quickly and Emmer wheat became a staple in ancient Egypt for both brewing and baking loaves. The ancient Egyptians loved both beer and bread. In the Egypt of the pharaohs there were as many as 30 varieties of artisan loaves available for public consumption. The recipe I use for our daily bread has been handed down for about 500 years. It is so basic (flour, water, yeast and salt) that it has probably been used in one form or another for thousands of years. What makes this recipe different from other recipes is the long beating of the pre-dough batter. - 3 cups unbleached bread flour (divided) - 1 1/2 cups warm water - 1 package yeast - 1 tsp. salt Mix the yeast with the warm water. I find that it helps to mix the yeast with 1/2 tsp. brown sugar before blending in the water. This keeps the yeast from clumping, helps it mix evenly and feeds the yeast. Allow the yeast to develop for 10 minutes. Pour the yeast and water into 2 cups of the flour reserving one cup of flour. Add water if necessary to make a pancake-like batter and beat vigorously for 10 minutes. This is the stage where you start to control the finished texture of the bread. For a tight crumb suitable for sandwiches keep the batter as thick as possible. If you want an open cell structure with lots of bubbles keep the batter thin. Add the salt to the batter after beating for 8 minutes and then beat for the last two minutes to incorporate the salt. Add the reserved cup of flour to the batter to make a rough ball of dough. This is the second and final opportunity you have to influence the texture of your daily bread. The wetter the better if you are looking for an open cell structure in the finished loaf of bread. A dry yet tacky dough will result in a nice sandwich style bread. The wet dough is more difficult to handle but one that is moist and is tacky, not sticky, will give an excellent texture to the finished loaf. Lightly coat a bowl with olive oil, place the dough in and coat with oil by rolling it around. Cover and let rise for 2 hours. It will just about double in size. This dough is usually light and so instead of punching down I like to stretch the dough and roll it in on itself briefly. Return to the oiled bowl, roll it around to coat and cover to rise for another 90 minutes. This bread recipe will make one 9x5 loaf and one smaller loaf, 4x8. Lightly oil the pans with olive oil and divide the dough by cutting of 1/3. Handling the dough gently, place each piece in its respective pan. Allow another 45 minute rise time to let the dough just about double in size. Preheat oven to 500° F. Place pans in hot oven and turn temperature to 450° F. Bake for 20 minutes then rotate the pans 180° and bake for another 15 to 20 minutes depending on how you like the color of your crust. Cool on a rack for 1/2 an hour before slicing. This is a versatile daily bread that can be made into a sandwich bread with a tightly knit cell structure or a Ciabatta-like crumb with large air spaces just by manipulating the amount of water in the batter and dough. Wet batter and moist dough equals large bubbles in the finished loaf. A thick batter and a dry yet tacky dough gives a delicious sandwich bread. Potential variations are almost endless for this versatile bread recipe and my favorite is to add about 1/2 cup wheat germ to the flour. This simple addition gives a richness to the color and enhances the flavor, aroma and nutritional value. Daily Bread Recipe is good served with your recipes. Click here to find meal ideas! Want to make money with your own website? Check this out!

Adorable origami AND cake? What!? Yeah, I know, it's pretty awesome. These mini cakes are baked prepackaged - so they're instantly portable, stay moist longer, and are cool enough that you don't have to spend the extra time frosting them! And if you need to take them anywhere, they can be stacked perfectly in a box, for the easiest way to transport cake ever! Step 1: Ingredients and Supplies - Cake mix of choice (and whatever the mix requires) - Each box of mix makes 12 little cakes ** Yes, you can always use your own recipe, but the batter needs to be thick. Cake batter that is too liquidy or too chunky will not work! - Optional: Food dyes, sprinkles, other small add-ins - Parchment paper cut into 8.5" squares - Piping bag(s) and tips - Cookie Sheet Step 2: Origami Balloon: How To Step 1: Fold your parchment square diagonally. Unfold it, and fold it diagonally the other way. Unfold it. Now fold it once horizontally. (pic 1) Step 2: With your creases, tuck the sides of the paper in (pic 2) so that you form a triangle (pic 3) Step 3: Fold each of your bottom corners up to meet your top corner (pic 4) Repeat on the other side. You should end up with a diamond shape (pic 5) Step 4: Fold your outter corners into the middle of your diamond, touching the center line. (Pic 6) Repeat on the other side. Step 5: Fold the small flaps at the top of your shape down, and tuck them into the pockets you created in step 4. (pic 7 and 8) Repeat on the other side. Step 6: Now it's done! Repeat for how many cakes you want. We'll cover blowing these up next. Alternatively, there are some other nice instructions on this wiki page Step 3: 24 Origami Balloons Later... The standard way to inflate these is to locate the hole on the end, and gently blow into it. But, since cake is going in these, you can coax them open without blowing into them. Grab on your flaps and gently pull at the corners, switching corners when needed, until they're in little cubes. However you decide to open these, make sure they're flat enough at the bottom so they sit correctly on your cookie sheet while baking. Step 4: Cake! Preheat your oven according to your box mix or recipe. Make your cake batter, and add any food dye or sprinkles you'd like. Spoon your batter into a piping bag, fitted with a tip. You *can* use a zip bag with a corner snipped off, but it's usually a bit messier. Place 12 of your origami balloons on your cookie sheet, with the small hole facing up. I know it's tempting to fit more on the cookie sheet, but the cakes won't bake evenly if they're too crowded. Carefully pipe your cake batter into each cube, alternating colors as you wish to create marbled effects. When using cake mix, I fill these 2/3 full. Mix were perfectly baked after 16 minutes, but you can always check with a toothpick! Once these are out of the oven, move the cubes (still in the wrappers) onto a cooling rack.

– by Dr Bharti Raizada July 17, 2017: People all over the globe believe that trees, particularly big and old trees- are a symbol of forgiveness, gratefulness, wisdom, strength, endurance. Some of these trees in different countries and religions are- Bodhi tree in India, The Major Oak in England. The Great Sugi in Japan, The Baobab in Africa, Tane Mahuta in New Zealand, El Tule in Mexico. In Hinduism, some trees are considered eternal and wishful filling or Kalpvriksh. Recently, I visited Sequoia National Park in California, USA. George Stewart led the movement to create Sequoia National Park and in 1890 Congress agreed to this idea. Sequoia trees are mainly found in Sierra Nevada mountain range between 5,000- 7,000 feet. Above 7,500 feet temperature is too cold and below 5,000 feet it is too dry for Sequoias to grow. These trees are protected resource. Sequoia trees are conifers but it differs from other conifers in that its trunk remains thick far up the tree giving it a columnar shape and huge bulk. This large volume makes them world’s largest trees. Sequoia trees can grow up to 311 feet tall and 40 feet in width at base, 52,500 cubic feet volume, 1385 tons in weight i.e. more than four fully loaded jumbo jet airplanes. They live up to 3,200 years. Sequoias can grow in groups. The Three Graces and The Four Guardsmen are group of three and four sequoias respectively. These Sequoias are of same age. Tiny male cones grow near tree tops. Late in winter, they release mists of yellow pollen onto the female cones hanging below. Female cones, small when pollinated, grow bigger and each cone holds 200 seeds tightly between its scales. 455 cones contain 91,000 seeds or one pound of seeds. Mature sequoias carry thousands of female cones. About 2,000 new cones may grow each year. Cones can hang on the tree, sealed, for up to 20 years until something opens them. Thousands of seeds sprout in the ashy soil left by the fire. This soil absorbs and holds moisture well. New roots easily penetrate it because it is loose and crumbly. The odds of a single tree to grow into a big sequoia are extremely small. The hazards to seed are—too deep forest litter preventing seed to reach soil, seed can land in bad spot and never sprouts, seed eaten by ground squirrel, seedling starts in shade and withers, if seeds are too crowded then they wither, fungus in soil kills seedling, if there is not enough rain then seedling dries out, cone with seeds taken home by someone. Sequoias produce million of seeds to increase the chances that a few will grow to maturity. Damage from ozone pollution shows up as a yellow spot on seedlings and this reduces the tree’s ability to create nutrients through photosynthesis. Each tree ring marks one year of growth and records fire and weather conditions. The wider the ring the better the growing conditions- sun, water, and nutrients were plentiful. Tree growth is measured in rings per inch. Sequoias need frequent fires to reproduce. Their survival depends upon conditions created by natural processes. To grow Sequoia need moist, but not soggy soil throughout the summer. Most Sequoia saplings that grow in dense groups will die. Competition for light and moisture is too great. When fire thins these dense groups the survivors fill out. Fire kills some sequoias but benefits many others- - Heat opens cones on sequoias and seeds rain down - Seeds land on clear soil fertilized by ash - Heat kills insects and fungus that may attack seedlings - Trees that compete for sunlight, moisture, and nutrients are killed - Once burned, an area is less flammable for several years, giving seedlings a good start Sequoia trees live for 3,000 years. Adaptation makes then live this long. The bark of the tree is up to two feet thick protects the living layer underneath it. The tannin, a reddish chemical, present in high concentrations in Sequoia bark, gives the Sequoia resistance to rot, boring insects, fungus, and fire. Thick bark with many air pockets insulates the wood from heat. The high branches hold foliage well above most fires. The sap is watery and not very flammable, so does not burn easily. When injured the tree heals and keep growing. Curved healing rings grow over wounds restoring the trees protective surface. Some trees may be burned hollow but survive for centuries. Rapid growth often occurs after fire. With competing trees burnt away, the surviving sequoias get more light, moisture, and nutrients. Trees may grow thicker annual rings for as long as 100 years. Tons of leaves, branches and tree trunks pile up on the forest floor each year. For tiny sequoia seeds, this dry and impenetrable deep layer is a sure death. They can not even start to grow. Fires clear this natural litter and leave behind better conditions for sequoia regeneration. Repeated ground fires usually leave a large triangular scar on the trunks. These scars limit the flow of water to the crown. The top dies, leaving a dead snag above massive branches and abundant foliage. Heat from fire dries out hanging Sequoia cones leading to cones opening and falling of millions of seeds. Giant Sequoias need an enormous amount of water. By growing near the meadow but not in it, they can benefit. Their roots capture moisture as it drains toward the meadow. Sequoias shallow roots can support a giant tree in less than three feet of earth by spreading out far from the trees. Interlocking roots throughout the forest help to support the Sequoias. As Sequoias grow taller, they loose lower branches due to fire or lack of Sun. Once the trees rise above the rest of the forest canopy, their pointed crowns round off. Dead tops mark the oldest Sequoias. Once mature they grow no taller, but continue to grow thicker. Foot traffic wears away topsoil exposing shallow Sequoia roots. Most large sequoias die by falling after root damage, soft soil, heavy snow or the wind. Giant sequoia groves are portions of Sierra Nevada mixed conifer forest that contain giant sequoias. In most groves, giant sequoias are fewer in number than other tree species but are the most visually striking and dominant in size. Within park boundaries, park staff distinguishes approximately 40 different giant sequoia groves, ranging from one to tens of thousands of sequoia trees per grove. Giant Forest is a large sequoia grove, set on a rolling plateau between the Marble and Middle Forks of the Kaweah River in Sequoia National Park. It is the largest of the unlogged giant sequoia groves, and it contains more exceptionally large sequoias than any other grove. It hosts the largest living sequoia, the General Sherman Tree. In this grove, visitors can see the effects of decades of prescribed burning: open forest conditions and clumps of giant sequoia seedlings that establish after fire. Grant Grove is located in Kings Canyon National Park. This grove has numerous exceptionally large sequoias grouped in a 90-acre area. A higher percentage of this grove’s mature sequoias reach sizes of ten, fifteen, and twenty feet (3, 4.5, or 6 m) in diameter than in any other grove. Redwood Mountain Grove is a very large grove of a spectacular old growth sequoias and a diversity of plants on the forest floor. In the spring, the colorful mix of wildflowers along the ridge trail and near Redwood Creek will delight hikers as much as the giant sequoias. In the fall, the dogwood shrubs turn a deep red color, and the fall light provides good photo opportunities. Redwood Mountain Grove is the largest grove in total area, has the largest area of old growth giant sequoias, and contains more mature sequoias than any other grove. This grove was one of the first areas where Sequoia and Kings Canyon National Parks started prescribed burning to reduce fuels and stimulate giant sequoia reproduction. The large fire scars on some of the monarch giant sequoias are a testament to the presence of fire over many centuries in sequoia groves. Today, the open stands of trees and the growth of young giant sequoias at Redwood Mountain Grove illustrate successful outcomes of the parks’ fire program The Sugar Bowl Grove is one of few examples of a nearly pure giant sequoia forest, rather than the typical mix of giant sequoias with other types of trees. Some interesting facts: - General Sherman, the name was given by James Wolverton in 1879, after the leader he served under during the Civil War, is the largest tree by Volume and weight. General Sherman, in the US, has a girth of 109 feet around on the ground and is 36.5 feet in diameter at the base. 2. El Tule in Mexico is largest by thickness in the world. 3. Coast Redwood is the tallest tree in the world. It is 367 feet tall and 10 feet in diameter. 4. Sugar Pine is biggest and tallest pine tree. It is 216 feet tall and 10 feet in diameter. 5. General Grant, in Kings Canyon National Park, USA, is the largest tree by width. 6. Centennial stump in California National park is 24 inch in diameter. Eastern people in Philadelphia did not believe that such a giant tree existed and called it a “California Hoax”. 7. Sentinel Tree, a Sequoia in Sequoia National Park, is 2,200 years old. - Giant Forest, named by John Muir, in Sequoia National Park hosts four of world’s five largest trees. In Giant Forest Sequoias grow bigger than anywhere else, and Round Meadow is one of the best Sequoia habitat within Giant Forest. The above information is from Park website and display boards in National park.

When is Game of Thrones winds of winter going to be released? The Game of Thrones Winds of Winter expected release date is late 2014. Released, A Game of Thrones, A Clash of Kings, A Storm of Swords, A Feast for Crows, A Dance with Dragons, Announced, The Winds of Winter, A Dream of Spring. Read More The Winds of Winter and A Dance with Dragons are two different books. The Winds of Winter is yet to be released. Read More There are currently five books published in the A Song of Ice and Fire series, which may also be called the Game of Thrones series after the television adaptation. There are plans for a further two novels in the series. The following list is the titles of the five published and two planned books in the series. 1. A Game of Thrones 2. A Clash of Kings 3. A Storm of Swords 4. A Feast… Read More There are going to be seven books, however there maybe more depending on where you live as sometimes the international publishers decide to split the books up in to multiple ones. So far he has only written five complete ones, A game of Thrones, A feast for Crows, A Storm of Sword, A feast for Crows and A Dance with Dragons. His next books will be The Winds of Winter. Read More plymouth, massachusets Their destination was Virginia. The strong winter winds kept them from going south. Read More When George RR Martin is done with it. This will hopefully be in 2015 sometime, but its looking more likely to be in 2016. Read More In winter, the northern hemisphere is cold. Thus winter winds from the northeast are dry and cold, especially if they travel over the frozen northern regions. Read More The RR Martin's Song of ice and fire is a fantasy series. In this series there are seven novels in total . Out of the the seven novels , five of them have been released . Read More In winter,winds blowing from land to the sea,we often called that winter monsoon,these winds carry a little moisture,therefore it bring a dry weather to the affected area. Read More The release date for The Winds of Winter or A Dream of Spring has not been officially announced. Read More from thunderstorms, winter storms and hurricanes, hurricanes will be the produce the highest winds. Read More warm, winter wind from mountains ( 7 alphebets startin with first letter C and last letter is K ) Read More Nova Scotia prevailing winds are from the West to North-West and strongest in the winter. Read More Japan, as island nation, is impacted by wind from all directions. The more gentle southeasterly winds from the Pacific and the more brutal winds bringing winter from Eurasia. Read More Moisture- laden winds blowing from the ocean to the land give India very wet summers In the winter the winds blow in the opposite direction and it is dry What are these winds called? monsoons Read More Moisture-laden winds blowing from the ocean to the land give India very wet summers In the winter the winds blow in the opposite direction and it is dry What are those winds called? monsoon Read More In an Indian mosoon there are winds over the Arabian Sea which are winter winds that are dry, and summer winds that are wet. These wind cause a dry and wet seasons over India. Read More GRRM has not said when his next book will be released, though as of October 2012, he had about 400 pages of the book written. In January 2013, he released a chapter from the Arianne POV. It can be found on his website Read More If the movie - The Holiday is accurate... the Santa Ana winds were at Christmas time, so I guess it would Winter. Answer Autumn and early Winter Read More They are both seasonal winds. Winter monsoons cause dry winter while summer monsoons cause wet summer. Read More How fast the winds are and were there going Read More It makes it colder in the winter Read More In the winter where does the winds of the Midwest blow from the north across before they get to the Midwest? midwest Read More The earths position in relation to the sun along with air moving down from Canada to the United States causes the cold winter winds that chill much of the United States. Read More Sometimes during the cold winter months sudden warm winds blow down the eastern slopes of the cascades what are three warm winds called? There are 3 types of warm winds. The 3 warm winds are called down-slope, dry and foehn. Read More The North Dakota winter can be as low as minus 60 degrees F with high winds and blizzard conditions. Read More In tipis deep in the woods to protect themselves from the winds. Read More i need to know the same thing! Read More The beach in the winter Read More Chennai receives rainfall in winter because the northeast monsoon winds blow over the Bay of Bengal, pick up moisture, and when they intercept the eastern ghats, cause heavy rainfall on the Coromandel Coast. Chennai does not receive rainfall in June as there are no relief features to obstruct the winds. In the winter season they receive rainfall from the retreating southeasterly winds which blow from sea to land. Read More because the winds come from the opposite direction and since there is no ocean on the opposite side then it causes less moisture. Read More Normally from the west. In summer warm moist winds come from the south to meet colder north winds to produce thunderstorms. In winter cold northerly winds can produce snowstorms and blizzards. Read More Do the winds blowing of the water surrounding Europe warm the land in the summer and cool it in the winter? true Read More They sealed their homes and wore heavy clothing. Read More It's not just winter storms, in general the prevailing winds in the USA is from west to east. Read More the strongest winds blow in canoga park during winter and only in December, Jan, and Feb Read More They are very light if at all, most of the winds at the equator are going straight up due to the amount of heating. Read More If you are not going by the wind barbs, the fastest winds will generally be where the isobars are closest together. Read More Prevailing winds tend to be light in summer and generally they flow out of the southwest. As winter settles in, prevailing winds begin to shift to northwest. Read More

ANNA Luxury Singlet in White The Anna Singlet is cut to be worn fitted to the body and accommodate bra straps, but still look like a singlet not a wider-shouldered tank. It has a close to the body fit that makes it ideal for being worn as a layering piece under any of the more transparent styles, or just for added warmth in that transeasonal period. I love it under everything! Fine quality 100% Lyocell Singlet, with a widely scooped neck and narrow straps, designed to be worn as a layering piece, and fit perfectly over a balconette style bra. Lyocell is a "cellulosic fibre" as it is derived from the cellulose of wood pulp. Although it is a manufactured fibre lyocell is not considered synthetic. It's properties and characteristics are more similar to those of natural cellulosic fibres, such as cotton, flax (linen), hemp and jute, than those of petroleum-based synthetic fibres (eg. nylon or polyester). Lyocell has numerous “claims to fame”. Its ability to absorb excess liquid (perspiration) – at a rate of 50% more than cotton – and quickly release it into the atmosphere, supports the natural ability of the skin to act as a protective shell to regulate body temperature and maintain water balance. At the same time because moisture is directly absorbed and transported to the inside of the fibre, rather than the surface it does not give bacteria a chance to grow. As a result, clothing made of lyocell remains odor-free for multiple wearings much longer than cotton. This means fewer washings and saving on water and energy as well as on the wear and tear that occurs on any fabric from the washing and drying processes. By contrast, synthetics have hundreds to thousands of times higher bacteria count over the same time periods as lyocell. Even better, lyocell’s anti-bacterial property is inherent to the fibre without the chemical additives that are used on synthetics and many cotton products. Lyocell fibres are also gentle on the skin. The microscopic surfaces of lyocell fibres, due to the nanofibrils, are smoother than the surfaces of modal, cotton and wool, reducing skin irritation. It is the combination of this extremely smooth surface of lyocell and excellent moisture absorption that makes lyocell textiles feel so soft and pleasant to the skin, making them ideal for active wear, clothing for sensitive skin and luxury items. In addition, lyocell is hypoallergenic and anti-static and fabric made from it doesn’t cling. Your Luxury T-shirt may be machine washed on a gentle cycle - front loaders are best. Use a warm or cold setting to wash, and cold to rinse. You may tumble dry your Luxury T (we do). If you do choose to tumble dry your Luxury T do so on medium heat or permanent press setting. ALSO be aware it might shrink up to 3-5 percent the first time it's dried. Lyocell fabrics can become stiff if they are allowed to air dry. You can soften them by putting the item in the dryer with a soft towel on low temperature or gently ironing. Re Ironing - Lyocell fabric dries relatively wrinkle-free, but if you want to spruce it up with an iron, use a warm or "synthetic" heat setting and turn off the steam. High heat can damage Lyocell, especially microfiber fabrics, and steam can leave spots that won't come off until the next washing. A safe option is to hang the item in a warm, moist area, such as a shower.

If you are anything like me, you probably have some venison in the freezer. The real problem is deciding how to prepare it. There are a few issues that arise when preparing venison. Many people are turned off by this wonderful meat because it is prepared in a way that leaves a gamey flavor. It is also common to find tough or dry deer meat. If it is prepared the wrong way, it turns out like shoe leather and nobody will eat it. Actually, venison is a lean meat cut, making it very healthy to eat. Ideally you want to remove any fat found on your cut as it can add to that gamey flavor. But, be careful because without any fat, it is very easy to dry out it. Typically the longer you smoke it, the drier it gets. So how do you smoke a lean piece of venison without drying it out? In this article we will cover a method for smoking deer meat that leaves it moist and delicious. It will also have a mild flavor and be butter knife tender, so everyone will like it. If you are planing to smoke this kind of meat, then you first should properly prepare it. A lot of people think that the preparing process is not very important and I am telling you that they are wrong. If you want to properly smoke it and make it delicious and moist, then it all begins with the preparing. Trimming and Butchering Deer Meat When it comes to eliminating the gamey flavor and tough texture from venison, the process should start when it is first butchered. If you take your meat to a processing plant, you can request that they package it in this particular way or they may already follow this process. If you butcher it by your own, there may be a few minor changes needed in your process. Here is the process I use to prepare my deer meat before I cook or freeze it: How to Prepare Deer Meat for Smoking 1) First, I suggest you to trim off as much fat as possible. Unlike most meats, fat is a bad thing on venison. Use a sharp knife and try to avoid cutting into the meat itself. I like using a heavy filet knife for this step in the process. 2) Many of the muscle groups have a clear membrane and silver-skin on the outside. It sometimes has a slimy texture to it. This also adds to the gamey flavor. Get your blade under them membrane and pull with one hand while you slice it loose with the other. It should peel off easily. 3) Remove the muscle groups from the bone in large pieces. Many people slice their venison thin and then tenderize it. This cut is ideal when you are chicken-frying it, but not when it comes to smoking. It is important that your piece of meat be several inches thick to maintain moisture during the smoking process. Note: You can also cut your piece with the bone still into it. To do this you would make the cut with your knife perpendicular to the bone and then saw through the bone with a hacksaw. I prefer removing the meat from the bone simply because it is less work and holds together better. Also, if you are having difficulties with this step, read this article for a more detailed guide to trim the fat off easily. 4) Once you have an ideal piece of venison, you are either ready for the brine or you can prepare to freeze it. To freeze it I wrap it in plastic and then wrap in freezer paper, or I put it in a plastic bag and fill the bag with water. If you will start smoking it directly, then set the meat aside and get ready to brine it. Brining the Deer Meat When it comes to smoking meat, brining is always a good idea because it helps your meat cut to retain moisture and to add more flavor. Also remember, the best cuts of deer for smoking are the tenderloins, hams, or shoulder roasts. Choosing one of these cuts will make your experience easier and enjoyable at the end. There are hundreds of different ways to make a brine, but there are three basic ingredients in any brine: water, salt, and sugar. Here is a recipe for a basic brine you can use for your venison: Quick and Easy Venison Brining Recipe - 1 Gallon of Water - 1/2 Cup of Soy Sauce – Make sure not to buy the reduced sodium kind - 3/4 Cup of Kosher Salt - 1/2 Cup of Brown Sugar - 1/4 Cup of Worcestershire Sauce - 1/2 Cup of Molasses - 2 Tbs. Pepper - 1 Tbs. Rosemary After you make sure that you have all the required ingredients, it is time to prepare the brine. Start by combining all these ingredients in a large pot or plastic container. Be sure to mix it thoroughly so the salt and sugar dissolve in the water. After the mixture is ready, add your meat and let it sit in the fridge for 12 to 24 hours. Leaving it for 12-24 hours to brine is beneficial because as the meat draws the ingredients in, a few changes take place. The first one is that the salt starts to break down the meat which tenderizes it. Another one is that it draws moisture into the meat so it will retain that moisture during the smoking process. Finally, brining does add other flavors to the meat. This brine gives the meat a slightly sweet and salty taste without masking the flavor of the venison. Deer meat requires more salt than just about any other type of meat, so when you are preparing to cook it, this brine compliments it well. Prepare to Smoke Your Venison When you are ready to start smoking, you need to allow 30 – 60 minutes for preparations before you actually start the smoking process. There are several steps to take before you can actually start applying heat to your meat. Prepare Your Smoker 1) First, you should prepare your smoker. Remove your deer meat from the brine, rinse it, and set it on a plate on the counter to bring it to room temperature for 20-30 minutes. 2) Now, soak your wood chips or chunks in water. I typically use mesquite or oak wood for venison to give it a nutty, rich flavor instead of a sweet flavor. Be sure to soak enough wood that you can set some aside to add to your fire later. 3) After you soak your preferred wood in water, scrape your grate and light your charcoal. I suggest that you never use match light charcoal and try to avoid using lighter fluid if possible. A charcoal chimney is an excellent tool I use to evenly light my coals without lighter fluid. 4) Set up your grill for indirect heat. This is vital as direct heat could cause the venison to seize up and become tough. Put additional charcoal on one side of your smoker so you can put your meat on the opposite side. Add a water pan either under your meat or above your coals depending on the design of your smoker. Note: This process can work fine with a gas grill or electric smoker with a few modifications. With an electric smoker it is easier and you can just follow the manufacturer’s instructions to set it to the desired mode. With a gas grill you ideally want to leave one burner off and place the meat above that burner. You will need a smoker box to add your wood chips. You will place the box over the burners that are lit to create your smoke. 5) Add your hot coals to your unlit charcoal. Also remove your wood chips or chunks from the water, shake them off, and add them on top of your hot coals. 6) Put the grate back, close the lid, and let the smoker come to temperature. After a while, you will notice thick white smoke coming from your vents. Adjust the vents to get your temperature to remain steady between 250°F and 300°F. Season Your Meat After you have prepared your smoker/grill and let it reach the initial temperature, it is time to season your meat. There are a lot of methods and recipes to season this kind of meat. You can decide to apply a rub or paste, or just season with salt and pepper. I enjoy using a simple spice rub. My rub has no sugar because a sweet bark goes best with pork or chicken, not venison. Here is my simple recipe for the deer meat rub: Deer Meat Seasoning Recipe - 4 Tbsp. Salt - 2 Tbsp. Pepper - 2 Tbsp. Garlic Powder - 2 Tbsp. Onion Powder - 2 Tbsp. Paprika - 1 Tbsp. Cayenne Pepper - 1 Tbsp. Cilantro - 1 Tbsp. Cumin After you collect all the required ingredients, apply them to your meat and make it ready for smoking. Smoking Deer Meat Now, it is finally the moment for you to start smoking the prepared meat cut. The key to getting your venison to turn out moist, tender, and smoky is maintaining a steady temperature. The steady temperature technique applies to almost any kind of meat when it comes to smoking it, so keep it in mind. Plan for a few hours of periodically checking your smoker to make sure nothing is going wrong. It does not take long for a smoker to change in temperature by 50 to 100 degrees if the vents or coals are off. How to Smoke Deer Meat 1) Add your meat to the grill in the section of your grate set up for indirect heat. You have to be quick at this step because you should not leave your lid open for too long as it can throw off your temperature. 2) In order to properly smoke it, you have to maintain your grill temperature by checking it every 20-30 minutes. If you are using an electric smoker, the process is a lot easier because you can monitor it with the built-in digital thermometer and increase or decrease it based on your needs. If you are using a grill, the easiest method to do it is to control your temperature with the top and bottom vents. To increase the temperature you can open the vents allowing more air to the coals. To decrease the temperature, you can close the vents, but not all the way as it will put out your coals. If the smoker stops producing smoke, you will have to add more damp wood chips or chunks to the fire. 3) You will need to smoke the meat for roughly 1.5 hours per lb. of meat or until you reach 140°F internal temperature. I suggest you have a digital thermometer to check the temperature easily. Just a few degrees off with venison can affect the moisture and tenderness of it. 4) After the meat is done, pull it out from the grill, wrap it in foil and throw a towel over the top. Don't cut or serve it yet. You have to let it rest for 20 minutes, so the juices reincorporate into it. We, at our family, use and cook venison very frequently, sometimes more than other type of meats, especially during the hunting season. The only difficulty we face is that our friends and extended family are not as enthusiastic about venison as we are, even though it is one of the healthiest meats out there. We have had to come up with ways to cook it that can appeal to everybody, and smoking method has been a big hit. By cooking it this way, we have managed to leave it moist, very tender and to taste amazing. We hope your family and friends will enjoy it as much as we do.

Why use harsh chemicals on a property to combat pests when you can use biological warfare? Nematodes are an affordable, safe, organic option for property managers looking to protect their green spaces from grubs, slugs, caterpillars, and other pests. What Are Nematodes? Nematodes are microscopic worms which live in the soil all around the world. There are many thousands of types of nematodes, some of which are parasitic. There are good and bad nematodes. Bad nematodes, like the potato eelworm, feed on plant matter and can destroy entire potato crops. Good nematodes, on the other hand, feed on and kill pests. How Do Nematodes Protect Green Spaces? Scientists have isolated which nematodes kill different types of pests and they can now be used to safely protect your green space from a wide range of destructive, unwelcome guests. Nematodes swim through the thin layer of water on soil particles, attracted to carbon dioxide. They then enter the host (whether it be a slug, grub or caterpillar) and release deadly bacteria that kills the host. After killing the host, they reproduce, creating new nematodes. If there are no more pests then the nematodes simply die, but if there are more pests then the cycle continues. This means that the number of nematodes will grow or decline in proportion to the number of pests. More pests, more nematodes. Which Pests Are Vulnerable to Nematodes? Nematodes can be used to safely protect properties from a wide variety of destructive or invasive species including: - Vine weevils - Chafer grubs - Codling moths - And many others… Nematodes Are Safe Nematodes are the safest pest control method available – they are completely safe to use around children, pets, birds, wildlife, and food crops. Rather than relying on potentially dangerous chemicals, use Nematodes to safely eliminate pests while keeping residents, employees and the public who use your properties safe. Benefits of Nematodes: There are many reasons why you should be using nematodes on the properties you manage: - Nematodes are organic, environmentally friendly and completely safe - The pests nematodes kill are non-toxic and are safely consumed by other insects (if they don’t decompose naturally) - You cannot over-apply nematodes, they will reproduce or die off at a rate in proportion to the number of pests you have - Nematodes can be used alongside other pest control methods, including chemicals - Nematodes exist naturally in the soil; you are not introducing a foreign species, only ‘topping up’ the existing population - Nematodes are barely visible to the human eye, just 500 microns long and 20 microns wide Nematodes Application and Storage In order for nematodes to survive they require warm, moist soil. Hot, dry soil will shrivel them up or drive them deep into the ground while water saturated soil will drown them. Avoid applying nematodes in the very early spring or late fall when the cold weather will kill them. Although you can purchase nematodes for application yourself, applying them properly is crucial to their effectiveness, so it’s best to have them applied by professionals like the experts at Garden Grove Landscaping. Written by Paul Lammers June 8, 2016 Paul Lammers is the vice-president of operations with Garden Grove Landscaping. Garden Grove provides Commercial Landscape Management Services across the Golden Horseshoe, GTA and Southwestern Ontario. Paul may be contacted at firstname.lastname@example.org or 1-866-996-1099.

Wow! I am back to my blog after another long year. Even though I love blogging and wish to spend every waking minute on my blogs, it doesn’t happen because my toddler needs Mama and I hardly catch a break. This afternoon, I baked a simple and yummy cake for my little one. It’s summer and strawberries are available everywhere. I had a few overripe bananas sitting on the counter calling for my attention. I decided to make a basic cake using Strawberries and Banana because my sister had made it sometime back and we loved it. If you google for Strawberry Cakes, you will most likely find recipes which use the box cake variety. This recipe is similar to the Banana Chocolate Cake I often make from scratch for birthdays and other occasions. It is sweet and moist and you will love every bite as you dig into the sweet and sour strawberries. Enjoy this yummy Strawberry Banana Cake with your evening coffee or tea. There are no hard and fast rules here. Why don’t you serve it for Brunch or even Breakfast next time? 😉 - All Purpose Flour – 2 cups - Sugar – 1 cup + 1 tbsp - Baking Powder – 1.5 tsp - Baking Soda – 1.5 tsp - Salt – 1/2 tsp - Chopped Strawberries – 1.5 cups - Ripe Bananas – 2 large (the riper the better) - Eggs – 2 - Milk – 1/2 cup - Canola Oil – 1/2 cup - Warm Water – 1/2 cup - Liquid Vanilla Extract – 1.5 tsp - Preheat oven to 350 degrees F (180 degrees C) and place rack in the center of the oven. Lightly grease a 9 x 13 inch (23 x 33 cm) pan with little oil or use a non stick spray. Set aside. - Wash the strawberries and chop it into bite size pieces. Combine with 1 tbsp sugar and keep it aside. - In a large bowl, sift the flour, sugar, baking powder, baking soda, and salt. Whisk until combined. Do not skip the sifting portion because I am warning you. It will be really unpleasant if you bite into a lump of baking soda. - In another large bowl, mash the overripe bananas. Whisk together the eggs, mashed bananas, warm water, milk, oil, and vanilla extract. - Add the dry ingredients to the wet ingredients and stir until combined. - Next, fold in 1 cup of the strawberries to the batter. Mix gently. - Pour the batter into the prepared pan and distribute the remaining 1/2 cup of strawberries evenly over the cake. - Bake for about 35 to 40 minutes or until a toothpick inserted in the center of the cake comes out clean. I used a non-stick baking pan and baked the cake for 35 minutes. - Remove from oven and let it cool. Enjoy!

Before planting grass seed, keep in mind the best temperatures and seasons for planting. A temperature of above 70F is optimal. Anything below (especially freezing temperatures), will create a longer wait time for the seedlings to start sprouting. Late spring and early summer are the best planting seasons for starting new grass seed. The first step in planting grass seed is to loosen the soil. For smaller areas, a regular garden hoe will do the trick. For larger areas, you may want to use a till. Your goal is to bring up the second layer of soil to the surface. Prepping the soil comes in a few steps. First rake the soil to clear it of any leaves or other unwanted items. Next, mix some topsoil in with the original soil from the ground. Spread that mixed soil over the area where the grass seed will be planted. The next step is to fertilize the soil. This can be done with the use of a handheld spreader for small areas. For larger areas, use a traditional spreader. Spreaders can be purchased at a fairly decent price at home improvement stores and warehouses, such as Home Depot. Now that the soil is ready, it is time to spread the seeds throughout the planting area. For smaller areas, this can be done by hand. Just as with the fertilizer, a spreader can be used if necessary. Now that the seeds have been spread, it is time to water them. Be sure that the seeds get plenty of water. Soil should be moist and the water should run deep into the soil. Watering daily will help the seeds germinate properly. It may take up to three weeks for the planted seeds to grow into grass. Once it has grown to almost 3 inches, it is safe to mow, but never mow off more than 1/3 of the original height.

Etihad Airways: My First Flight A fter escaping the predicted snowstorm in Atlanta — and successfully bypassing a ground stop as a result — I found myself in Terminal 4 of John F. Kennedy International Airport in New York. Fortunately for me, Delta Air Lines and Etihad Airways both use Terminal 4 for their operations, which turned out to be quite convenient for me: no transfers between terminals; no chance of having to go through the airport security checkpoint; no having to go outside in the cold weather. I have heard good things about Etihad Airways; and this is the first time I fly on an airplane operated by that airline as a passenger. I walked up to the counter at the gate when it opened — I found it mildly ironic that the previous flight at that gate was operated by El Al — and had absolutely no problems checking in for my flights to Johannesburg via Abu Dhabi. I received my boarding passes within minutes. I then went to sit down in a chair at a gate opposite the one being used by Etihad Airways. As I sat there, a man in his late 50s started talking to me. “Where are you headed?” he asked. “Johannesburg”, I replied. He looked at me momentarily like I was an orange Martian with three arms. “That’s a long way to get there”, he said. “It works for me.” “Where are you going?” I asked. “Pakistan”, he said. “Are you originally from there?” I asked because he clearly looked Pakistani but spoke with a New York accent. “Yes; but I moved to New York many years ago — and this damn accent gives it away.” “So where are you from?” he asked. “New York”, I replied. “So you are going all the way from your home in New York to Johannesburg through Abu Dhabi?!?” he asked with a puzzled look on his face. “No — I started in Atlanta.” “I thought you said you were from New York?!?” he asked quizzically. “I am, originally; but I am currently based in Atlanta.” Despite having a good sense of humor, I think he thought I was nuts. He would be far from the first person to think so — especially with the way I travel. We chatted a little more until it was time to board the aircraft; and I found out that he took advantage of the Christmas Day airfare mistake which Etihad Airways honored. He wanted to book another; but he was so happy that he even was fortunate enough to book one. He then said, “I’ll catch you aboard. Maybe we will go raid the bar together.” I did not have the heart to tell him that I did not drink. The way I travel would drive anyone to drink, I suppose. Heck — telling people how I travel seems to drive them to drink. Anyway, I never did see him again aboard what became a full economy class cabin inside of the Boeing 777-300 aircraft operated by Etihad Airways. Although passengers were being boarded by zones, there was a long line to board anyway; but it moved fairly quickly. I then approach my seat; and some goodies were awaiting me. The seat was reasonably comfortable; although the flat cushion of the seat could use a little more padding. I was not exactly thrilled about the angle of the lower half of the seat. It reminded me somewhat of the seat I experienced on an airplane operated by Alitalia several months ago during my unintentional trip around the world — yes, I still have more trip reports from that trip to post — but it was not nearly as uncomfortable. I then noticed the back of the seat in front of me. I was pleased that it was equipped with many features, as explained in the captions of the photographs below. I did not like the tray table because items kept sliding off of it for some reason. I was unsure why. Could it have been the angle when it is completely opened flat? Was the surface too smooth? Whatever was the reason, the tray table was not convenient to use. The first meal then came. Before I began this trip, I looked at the special meal options offered by Etihad Airways; and among the choices was seafood. Yes! It has been a long time since I had last seen that meal option; and I had the forethought to order it before my trip. Here is the printed menu with a choice of three meals for passengers seated in the economy class cabin: The special meals are served well in advance of the regular meals, so I was amongst the first to receive a meal. The problem is that because the drinks are served with the regular meals, I finished my meal long before I had the option to order a drink. This is how my meal was presented to me — and I apologize in advance for the poor lighting conditions: I then unwrapped everything… The salmon was moist yet flaked nicely. I would have liked to have a crusty roll with the smoked salmon, which was slightly tough but good. A few sprigs of the bed of greens on which the smoked salmon rested were turning brown; but that would be my most significant criticism of this meal. Somewhere over the United Kingdom halfway during the flight, we received a paper bag which contained this: It was purportedly a turkey sandwich. The roll was far more appealing to me; so I scraped out whatever was inside of the sandwich and ate the roll. There are many options with the in-flight entertainment system — so many that because I fell asleep during much of the flight, I was not able to try them all. One thing I did like was that there were two cameras with live feeds of the outside during the flight which you can watch. Here is a view of mountains covered with snow somewhere between Yerevan and Baghdad from the Landscape Camera: Being assigned to an aisle seat, I thought this was pretty darn cool. This does not, however, replace the actual view from a window seat, as I have expressed my thoughts far more clearly here pertaining to windowless aircraft. The final meal came 90 minutes before the conclusion of the flight. Again, it was a special seafood meal. This is how my meal was presented to me: I then unwrapped everything… The meal did not look very appetizing at all; but do not let the appearance fool you — the meal was far more delicious than it looked. There was a moderate heat in the spice of the meal; and the tomato and other flavors were quite full and rich. The fish was in large, moist chunks; and the bland rice complemented the flavorful stewed vegetables well. I wrote that the meal came with an American KitKat chocolate bar because everywhere else in the world, KitKat is by Nestlé; but for some reason, KitKat is by Hershey’s in the United States. I have heard people prefer the Nestlé version over the Hershey’s version. Also, please excuse my ignorance; but I thought that Halal dietary laws — under which is how the meals were prepared for Etihad Airways — were similar to Kosher dietary laws; so I did not expect to see shellfish as part of the meal. I am certainly not an expert on Halal dietary laws, which is why my knowledge on them is limited. It was nice to see the connecting gate information. When the lights were dimmed aboard the airplane, mood lighting bathed the interior of the aircraft with a glow of color. The mood lighting was at the windows in addition to the ceiling. All in all, I enjoyed my experience as a passenger aboard Etihad Airways. While I did not exactly cavort in The Residences or Apartments or anything like that — this aircraft was not equipped with them anyway — this is one of the better economy class cabins I have ever experienced. The lavatories located in the center of the economy class cabin were significantly more spacious than those typically found in the economy class cabins of airplanes operated by other airlines. Moreover, they contain hand sanitizer for those who are inclined to use it. Between the in-flight entertainment, the amenities and the meals, there is certainly enough to keep a person busy on a flight whose duration was greater than eleven hours — that is, if the person does not fall asleep. One of my few minor criticisms includes that flight attendants were not very proactive about collecting refuse from passengers — I had a collection of plastic cups going at my seat until the remnants of the final meal were taken away. There was not as much food served as was on this flight operated by KLM Royal Dutch Airlines from Amsterdam to Seoul. The USB port at my seat did not seem to work — not that I needed it anyway. Service was polite and somewhat attentive but not as warm as experienced on at least one other airline. The aisles were quite narrow. If you plan on being a passenger in the economy class cabin of an airplane, my first experience suggests that Etihad Airways is a top choice. One other tip: although the other meals appeared to be all right, choose the seafood meals in advance. I was glad I did… …but what about my second experience on a flight from Abu Dhabi to Johannesburg? I intend to report about that in a future trip report…

Rhubarb can be a bit too tangy for many people, but it is amazing in coffee cake. My version is stuffed with fruit and features a slightly crunchy, cinnamony crumble top. We had a huge hailstorm a couple of nights ago and among other things, my rhubarb was demolished. There was nothing to do but gather up the broken stems and dice them up for baking. I froze most of the diced rhubarb, but used 4 cups for this recipe. Fingers crossed, my plant will recover, but in the meantime, we’re enjoying this moist, delicious cake as the silver lining from an awful storm. 1 cup white sugar 1 tsp baking powder ½ tsp kosher salt 2 cups flour 2 eggs, beaten 1 cup sour cream 1 tsp vanilla 4 cups rhubarb, diced 1 cup sugar ¼ cup melted butter 1/3 cup flour 1/2 tsp ground cinnamon Mix 1st cup sugar, baking powder, salt and flour In a large bowl. Add in 1 cup sour cream and eggs and stir until smooth. (Batter will be very thick.) Add rhubarb and stir to distribute evenly. Scoop into a 9 x 12” baking dish and smooth top with a spatula. In a small bowl, mix 2nd cup sugar, melted butter, flour and cinnamon until very crumbly. Sprinkle evenly over cake. Bake for 45-50 minutes until a toothpick inserted in the middle comes out clean. So good – I’ll be surprised if you can stop at just one piece!

There was a plant in the office that was growing ok but it hardly had any soil in the pot and all the roots were exposed so I bought a bag of soil and filled up the pot, then I watered it. Since then the plant leaves are completely droopy and some of the leaves are turning yellow. I feel the soil and it always feels moist. I have stopped watering it so it will dry up but it doesn't do anything. How can I save the plant? Yellow leaves are a sure sign of overwatering or poor lighting conditions, so at this point there's really nothing that can be done except to repot the plant into fresh (dry) soil and not water it as much. It might help to plant it in a pot with some drainage holes in it (and then put a saucer or plate or some type of dish underneath it) or line the bottom with loose stones. Once it stabilizes you should see it perk back up again and you can water it minimally going forward. Depending on the type of plant it is, it may only need water once a week or even less.

They were formidable, those dames. You could spot them a mile away, standing under elaborate hats and toting pocketbooks. If you were smart, you didn’t approach them, you changed course. They had better radar than a missile silo and could read minds like a fortune teller. Caught in their penetrating gaze you’d confess to anything from stealing candy to the Lindbergh kidnapping.Sadly, they’re a vanishing breed. The world will little notice their passing, but we’ll be infinitely poorer for the loss. Those women ran the world with the unflinching, steely-eyed resolve of a master sergeant. If there was a job to do, they stepped up and did it. No matter how unpleasant, no matter how thankless. We’ll not see their likes again The pocketbook was their power base. They’d reach in, root around, and, presto, out came a 2-quart saucepan. Root around a little more and, voilà, the keys to the kingdom, meaning the house, the car, safe deposit box, liquor cabinet, and your diary, too. There at the bottom? Hand tools, a pot roast, and a lace hankie. Roomy, steel-framed, and jet black, it was a geometric marvel dangling from a forearm. My grandmother used hers as weapon, for swinging at the dog. Queen Elizabeth, herself a pocketbook lady, is rarely seen without one — what’s in there? Marlboro Reds and a Zippo? Nope, the basics: lipstick (she’s a fan of Clarins), reading glasses, mints, a fountain pen. Possibly a mobile. She has people, remember? Her ladies-in-waiting carry spare tights, gloves, and a moist, lavender-scented cloth in case of heat. The pocketbook is used to signal her attendants — indicating she’s either tickled pink to be in the company of her guests or bored out of her mind and requires rescuing. Isn’t that a hoot? Plus, it’s believed she carries a hook to protect her bag (a £1,057 custom-made Launer) from grimy, germy floors around the world. She attaches the hook under the table and hangs her purse there. Clever, no? A dinner guest is said to have seen Her Majesty spit into the plastic suction cup before attaching the hook to the table. Puh-lease. Spit? A pocketbook lady? God save the Queen. Copyright © 2015 thewhirlygirl

Matthew Fox had suggested a light Lenten supper, but he wasn't particularly repentant. The 52-year-old theologian, whose three decades as a Dominican priest ended last week when he was dismissed from the order by the Vatican, unfolded his napkin at Elka, a seafood restaurant in San Francisco, and widened his blue eyes in bewildered innocence. "I guess I'd be sorry for the things I've done if I wanted to preserve a male-dominated, anthropocentric, essentially white institution that denies its own mystical tradition," he said. The same voice regularly pulls elderly congregations from church pews and sets them chanting and circle-dancing, cautions would-be priests that a celibate is someone "all dressed up with nowhere to go," advocates the ordination of women and incites fundamentalists to picket his appearances bearing posters that say things like: "Matthew Fox = New Age = Feminism = Satan." For the last year, the Vatican had considered a request by the American Dominican order that the theologian be dismissed. While no longer a member of the order, he is still technically a priest, but he is barred from publicly administering the sacraments. He prefers not to be called Father Fox. His 14 books, including "Original Blessing" (Bear & Company, 1983) and "The Coming of the Cosmic Christ" (HarperCollins, 1988) have sold over a million copies and have been translated into four languages. At a time when parishes are dwindling and church coffers diminishing, Dr. Fox's weekend lectures pack pews and command top fees across the country. Creative Sprituality, the magazine he founded in 1985, has a circulation of about 30,000. The graduate course that he teaches at Holy Names College in Oakland, Calif., is seen by many theologians as one of most forward-looking in the United States.Continue reading the main story But others call Dr. Fox's work "feel-good theology." There is a deliberate naivete about Dr. Fox. His shaggy mop of white hair, plaid shirt and well-worn jeans summon the 1960's. He could have been singing in the chorus of "Hair" as he eschewed the church's Augustinian concept of "original sin" in favor of "original blessing." "What does God do all day?" he asked. "Why, She enjoys Herself! Creativity and joy is where it's at, not all this sin and repentance that feed self-loathing and keep people focused on me, me, me." Environmentalism! Social justice! Wow! That's real prayer! In these refrains he sounded like an enthralled little boy. He was talking about science, cosmology and 14th-century Catholic mysticism, his discourse peppered with terms like "right-brain activity" and "co-dependency." But just as Dr. Fox began to sound as flaky as last year's granola, the closed vowels of his Midwestern cadence rescued him. The thrust of his jaw is that of a tough pragmatist, a reminder that he is the son of a Big Ten football coach and that he was a formidable end on his own high school team. The longer he talked, the more erudite he became. The pale, thin theologian who lives alone and ascetically in a tiny house in Oakland gave way to the charismatic student leader who had graduated summa cum laude from the Institut Catholique in Paris, where he is remembered as one of the most distinguished students ever to receive a doctorate. Instead of an academic treatise, Dr. Fox's first book was "On Becoming a Musical, Mystical Bear: Spirituality American Style." From the beginning of his academic career, he was bent on delivering user-friendly spirituality to a country pulled between ranting televangelists, secularism and timid clerics, who, he says, can better contend with bureaucracy than with the human condition. "Any academic who writes books the public can understand is called a popularizer," Dr. Fox said. "I made a conscious decision." Lawrence Wright, whose profiles of contemporary religious figures, "Saints and Sinners," will be released next week by Knopf, noted one of Dr. Fox's dichotomies. "In one breath he's selling God Lite," Mr. Wright said. "In the next, he's a prophet in the classic Catholic tradition." Dr. Fox is a little New Age, a little New Testament and big trouble for the Catholic Church. Partly because he's so Catholic. "Of course, I'm having fish -- it's Lent," he said primly as he ordered grilled tuna with ginger and wasabi. "Rituals are important." His emphasis on ritual incited the final battle between Rome and Dr. Fox. In 1988, church superiors voiced dismay about the witches, Nigerian drummers and American Indian shamans Dr. Fox hired to teach spirituality and rituals in his graduate program at Holy Names College. When he refused to dismiss his multicultural staff, Dr. Fox was silenced by the church for a year for being a feminist, calling God "Mother," and de-emphasizing original sin. Dr. Fox responded to the disciplinary action by publishing a letter entitled "Is the Catholic Church Today a Dysfunctional Family?" But it was disobedience, not his theology or hiring practices, that cost Dr. Fox his status as a Dominican, said the Rev. Donald Goergen, the director of St. Albert the Great, Dr. Fox's former province. "We asked Matt to come back to Chicago and live in the community," he said. "Being a Dominican is not only about preaching and teaching. There is also an obligation to participate in the community." But Father Goergen admitted that of the province's six theologians, only one resides within its confines. Dan Turner, a former Dominican who is the editor of Creation Spirituality, said obeying the order would have ended Dr. Fox's ministry. "It was an impossible order to obey," he added. "That's why it was issued." Just as the Vatican played stern father to the wayward priest, it appears to Dr. Fox's supporters that the church has played persecutor to the lamb-prophet in a decades-long passion play. To his audiences, students and readers Dr. Fox's expulsion made him a modern-day Luther. But while some academic theologians refer to Dr. Fox as the next Pierre Teilhard de Chardin, others call him a populizer, not an intellectual. Dr. Fox embraced both his dismissal and collegial criticism as a true penitent would a hair shirt. "Consider my company," he said. "Galileo, Thomas Aquinas and Meister Eckhart were all persecuted by the church." Dryness, Mr. Wright noted, "is Matt Fox's favorite flavor." But as he savored the moist grilled tuna in front of him, Dr. Fox said: "Moisture, that's life, wet, changing. When people or institutions get dry, they get brittle and rigid. That's when fascism creeps in." The fourth of the seven children of George and Beatrice Fox, he was born in Madison, Wis., on "the cusp of Sagittarius and Capricorn," he said. "Sagittarians get into trouble." His parents named him Timothy James Fox; he was given the name Matthew at his ordination. Until he was paralyzed with polio when he was 12, Timothy earned his Sagittarian reputation, though he was an altar boy and Boy Scout. After six months in the hospital, he could walk again, and he returned home, quiet, intense, impatient and sure of his vocation. "It was a miracle that I had legs," he said. "I knew I was going to spend the rest of my life celebrating the miracle of life." He entered the Dominican order at 19, completed his undergraduate work at River Forest, a Dominican institute in Illinois, and received a master's degree from the Aquinas Institute of Theology in Dubuque, Iowa. On the advice of Thomas Merton, he went to Paris to study the ancient Catholic mystics. During the upheaval of 1968, he was politicized. "Wow, I mean, the connection between spirituality and social justice was all over the place," he said. "It was like the nexus of mysticism and Marxism, something that had intrigued me since the American civil-rights movement." He returned to teach at Aquinas, but Paris had changed him. "The first thing he did was give a sermon called 'What Celibacy Is Not,' " said a professor who was a member of the Provincial Council that recommended that Dr. Fox be dismissed. "I do not recall one year in the 18 years I served on that council that we did not have to deal with some Fox issue," said the professor, who spoke only on the condition of anonymity. "His most important contribution was the notion of 'orginal blessing,' and we must put that idea in the hands of more rigorous scholars within the church and not just abandon it to a popularizer." After the publication of his first book, Dr. Fox taught at Barat College, a private school for women, in Lake Forest, Ill., and then moved to Mundelein College in Chicago, also a school for women. At both, he became a controversial cult hero. Publicly, the Dominicans remained supportive. "It was the great era of self-actualization, and we did our best to accommodate Matt," Father Goergen said. But as the 80's fostered secularism and fundamentalism in the United States, Father Goergen said, "the order returned to a more traditional mode." "You could say the whole church moved to the right," he continued, "and Matt was stuck in the 60's. He was quite arrogant about his position." Dr. Fox was quick to point out that the tournament of ideologies has claimed its share of casualties in the Catholic Church: "When I joined the priesthood, there were nearly 50,000 seminarians in the States. Now there are fewer than 7,000." Dr. Fox, who never considered leaving the priesthood, became a crucible. Although he lives more like Mr. Chips than a warrior in the sexual revolution, the church was rankled by his philosophical position on celibacy and other earthly indulgences. "Obviously, I write about sensuality, and I haven't dealt with my own sexuality in an armchair," he said. "But to me, celibacy is an art, not a vow, but that's not what the church is mad about. They're threatened that I'm trying to move the institution from its bureaucratic rut into an active, engaged, socially conscious spirituality." These sorts of positions, he said, made the church view him as a political dissident. "First, there was Charles Curran, then William Callahan, then Leonardo Buff," he said, listing other outspoken priests who have been disciplined. Undeterred by his own dismissal, he has finished his 15th book and has begun to work on a television show. Perhaps being a prophet in the Age of Aquarius means becoming the Dick Cavett of late-night theology. "The spirit moves in very mysterious ways," Dr. Fox said dryly. Immediately after his dismissal, Dr. Fox issued a news release and then seemed surprised when the telephone lines at Creation Spirituality were jammed with sympathy calls and inquiries. But martyrdom seemed to mortify Dr. Fox, even if he did spend 33 years grooming himself for the role. At supper he winced when shown newspaper headlines like "Vatican Fires New Age Priest." Even his boyish optimism faltered. He sounded more like a querulous professor when he said: "I'm Catholic. I come from an age-old mystical tradition." And he did look a little guilty, as he sampled a bite of rich chocolate cake. After all, it was Lent.Continue reading the main story

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Stop Bad Breath by Starting Good Dental Care Habits Bad breath can happen to good people, but that doesn’t mean you have to like it or live with it. That’s why you need to know what you need to do to keep your breath clean and fresh. It all comes to some simple steps, such as practicing good dental care, regularly seeing an expert in family dentistry and avoiding the things that make your breath bad. Saliva does more than keep your mouth moist. It actually washes away the plaque build-up that causes bad breath. That’s why it’s important to realize that certain situations can reduce the amount of saliva in your mouth so you’re ready to quell the smell. These include: When you’re thirsty or hungry – There is less saliva in your mouth when there’s been little food or drink in your mouth, so remember to drink enough liquids and eat on a regular basis. If you’re dieting, try chewing gum or using mints to keep bad breath at bay. When you drink alcohol – Alcoholic beverages can lead to a dry mouth, which causes bad breath. You can counteract the problem by remembering to floss after a night out and drinking some water before you go to sleep. When you wake up – Your body produces less saliva when you sleep, which is why so many people start with day with less-than-fresh breath. Remember to floss in the morning to get your saliva flowing again. When it comes to reducing bad breath, floss is your friend. Flossing on a daily basis can remove the bacteria, food particles, and plaque that lead to bad breath. In fact, numerous studies have found a link between bad breath and a lack of flossing. That’s why you must floss every day, along with practicing other good dental care like brushing your teeth twice a day, and using a mouthwash. But if you regularly practice good dental care and still deal with chronic bad breath, you need to talk to an affordable dentist or your doctor to see if it’s the sign of bigger health issue. Bad breath can actually be a symptom of gum disease, diabetes, liver disease, or cancer. So talk to an expert to keep yourself in good health and good breath. To get the dental care you deserve from an affordable dentist in Florida, call today at or make an appointment. Advanced Dental Care offers affordable family dentistry and gentle, compassionate dental care in Florida. With 21 affiliated practices throughout Florida, our offices are conveniently located with extended hours to meet your needs. At , we provide most dental services, from basic preventative care and general dentistry to specialized procedures and complete dental reconstruction. We accept most dental insurance plans and offer affordable financial solutions for any budget. Patient satisfaction is our top priority and we strive to provide the exceptional, affordable dental care and personal touch that lead to lasting relationships. A smiling patient is our greatest reward and we look forward to keeping those smiles healthy, beautiful, and bright. Discover an affordable dentist who truly cares at .

Do you wanna know How To Make Poha at home which is fluffy and moist. So here’s the truth; I used to suck at making poha a year from now. Nope could not get it right- sometime too dry and sometime too mushy. I even burnt my onions one time and it tasted so bad. Not a pretty pic. Does that happen to you too?? Growing up in the north I wasn’t well acquainted with Poha. Its more of a Mumbai breakfast. My breakfast included lot of parathas and egg. But I can say now I make killer Poha like any yummy poha stall you can find maybeee better?…..too much. OK enough with self praising ??? So before learning how to make poha some of the special tips & tricks⤵ - Lets start with onions first. I like my poha with chunkier onions but some put really finely chopped onions. - If using potato’s I would always go for boiled potatoes. It make poha making super easy and quick. Although its optional and a personal choice. - If you are using raw potato’s toss them together with onions so you don’t end up with burnt onions. Also chop the potato’s finely. - I have added frozen peas which I have thawed for 5 mins in boiling water. If using fresh cook them sperately to avoid raw peas in you poha. - I do also like to add veggies sometimes like carrots, capsicum, French beans all finely chopped. Toss them all with onions only. Totally optional. - Now a special tip for soaking poha- just wash them till it gets wet in a strainer and leave. Timings is important here. There should be enough moisture in the poha to be fluffy not mushy or dry. Its best to soak poha when you have chopped everything and ready to go. - The typical poha is sweet and spicy hence green chilies and sugar. - If at some point after making poha you feel its too dry add 1/4 cup of water and cover. You will see the poha puffing up. - You can also add some roasted and crushed peanut for crunch. And it tastes soooo good. - In the end I like a good squeeze of lemon, optional. But traditionally poha is sweet, spicy & tangy. My suggestion would be to try it once. So these were some of my tips for you. I absolutely love making poha now and I make it at least once in a week. Hope these little tips and tricks help you as well. Please leave your valuable comments if you also do have something to tell me about poha making? Let’s see how to make poha- 3 cups poha soaked(See tips) 2 onions roughly chopped 3/4 cup peas( frozen or fresh-see tips) 1 green chili 1 tsp mustard seeds Handful of curry leaves Salt as per taste 1/2 tsp turmeric powder 3/4 tsp red chilli powder 1 tsp sugar(or more if you like) Fresh coriander for garnish Juice of half lemon Heat oil in a large pan. Toss the curry leaves, mustard seed and green chili. Wait for 10 sec and add onions. Saute till soft. Now add peas and all the masalas & sugar. Cook till the masala is cooked. Add the poha. Mix until combined. Switch off the gas. Sprinkle lemon juice and give one last stir. Covet and let it rest for 5 min. Its ready to serve. If you like this recipe please like it and leave your valuable comments. You can follow my Facebook page to join me in my food journey. If you wish to replicate this recipe please link back to this post. Share this post if you like it.

Omega Eye for Dry Eye Disease and Meibomian Gland Dysfunction Omega Eye for DED and MGD By Sheraz Daya MD, FACP, FACS, FRCS(Ed), FRCOphth Dry Eye Disease & Anti-Inflammatory Omega-3, A Corneal Specialist Perspective As my colleague, Arthur Cummings wrote in last months edition; taking care of dry eye prior to surgical interventions to ensure better outcomes for our patients is a critical element of our practice now. My focus in this article is on the treatment options that we use in our practice in improve the ocular surface prior to surgery or for our regular evaporative dry eye patients. Also, I would like to mention how we communicate with our patients to ensure they understand the importance of using there therapies and remaining compliant with them. It is well established that Dry Eye Disease (DED) is multifactorial in etiology, but a growing body of evidence points towards inflammation as a leading cause. 1 The recently published DEWS II report highlights that long chain poly-unsaturated fatty acids, in particular Omega-3, are recognised to have a broad range of systemic anti-inflammatory effects. 2 I use Omega-3 supplements for the majority of my evaporative dry eye and surgical patients and have been doing so for the last few years. I use a brand of Omega-3, called Omega Eye. When I started using this product 4 years ago I was very sceptical and thought that the upcoming approval of Cyclosporine in the UK at that time would the answer I needed. However, some of our findings with patients were surprising; we saw Schirmer’s improvements after 3 months as well as an improvement of both Demodex Blepharitis and Seborrheic Blepharitis. Interestingly we are noticing that Telangiectasia is less pronounced and the turbid secretions we tend to see become thinner and clearer. My own feeling is that poor meibum quality may cause inflammation so having a supplement that can change the quality of the meibum is helpful, which Omega Eye has been proven to do. I must have hundreds of patients on this therapy now and we are consistently getting good results with the product. After 6 to 12 weeks, not only does the quality of meibum improve, the lids become less inflamed and patients report a symptomatic improvement. I am confident and convinced that this therapy is working, along with the other products patients use – PF artificial tears and moist heat masks, as I track their progress with our TearLab Osmolarity testing which provides a quantifiable value in terms of their improvement. Communication to Patients Communication is a critical step for us, to ensure that the patient gets the right product and uses it effectively. At our clinic, we make sure that the staff educate the patients on the products and that when I, or another specialist, have recommended a certain product for them that we have stock available of it in the practice. I have noticed that the conversion rate and the compliance rate for patients who take products away from the clinic is much higher than for patients that go to the pharmacy or online. Again, advanced diagnostics can make a big difference here as we can objectively and quantifiably show the patients that the treatment works with advanced diagnostics like TearLab. In our experience, the patients really like to have a number that they can track to see their condition improving. With Omega Eye I have the knowledge that it is proven to reduce osmolarity and other disease markers in 8-12 weeks. This allows me to recommend a product confidently that is backed in science. Possible Reasons Why Omega Eye works so well Experts in inflammatory conditions, such as cardiovascular disease, highlight the necessity of higher essential fatty acid intake, particularly Omega-3 from oily fish. 3 The Women’s Health Study, a large retrospective observational trial involving over 32,000 women, described an association between a low dietary intake of Omega-3 EFAs and DED. This study reported a 30% reduction in the risk of DED with each additional gram of Omega-3 EFAs consumed per day. 4 The ideal dietary intake ratio of Omega-6 to Omega-3 is 1:1, but a typical Western diet can shift this ratio to 25 to 1.5 Furthermore, it has been recently shown that this ratio in tear lipids is elevated in people with DED and that this occurs in proportion to the degree of tear film dysfunction and corneal staining. 6 Omega-3 Evidence in Dry Eye Several studies have previously shown the effectiveness of Omega-3 fatty acid supplementation on DED with different sources and doses, and placebo contents; eleven of those trials are elegantly complied in the recently published DEWS II study. Overall, Omega-3 supplements were found efficacious in reducing inflammatory markers and improving symptoms as well as clinical markers of DED. In a study of patients with Meibomian Gland Dysfunction (MGD), Omega-3 improved OSDI, TBUT, lid margin inflammation, MG expression and Schirmer score. 7 More recently, a double-masked, randomised placebo-controlled trial, showed that the oral consumption of re-esterified omega-3 fatty acids is an effective treatment for DED. Results showed a statistically significant improvement in Tear Osmolarity, TBUT, OSDI and MMP-9 positivity, over a 12-week period. Improvement of Dry Eye signs were seen as early as 6 weeks, indicating a “rapid response”. The improvement in signs and symptoms for dry eyes support the recommendation that dietary supplementation of re-esterified Omega-3 fatty acids should be included as a primary therapy for patients with MGD. 8 What impact the form of Omega-3 has Omega-3s from fish oil are available commercially in one of two forms: triglycerides or ethyl esters. The majority of these Omega-3 fatty acids are sold in the ethyl ester form which contains alcohol. Studies have shown that ethyl esters are the least bioavailable forms of Omega-3’s, compared to the triglyceride forms. Re-esterification is a process that removes the alcohol from chemically modified ethyl ester fish oil to create a more natural (triglyceride) form of Omega-3 fatty acids which is not only better tolerated with less gastrointestinal side effects but also better absorbed. In a large double-masked RCT, both forms were tested for bioavailability using the Omega-3 Index as measurement and showed statistically significant increases however, the re-esterified form increased it to a greater extent, which from a clinical point of view, may lead to faster results. 9 Omega Eye has been specifically developed to relieve the symptoms of Dry Eye and Blepharitis from within and is both recommended and used by leading Eye Care Professionals in the UK in conjunction with other therapies, such as eye drops, lid wipes and heat masks. Every batch of Omega Eye is third party tested to ensure it adheres to the same standards of quality and purity as prescription products. A daily dose of Omega Eye has exceptionally high levels of Omega-3 (1680mg EPA and 560mg DHA) from pelagic fish (anchovy, sardine, mackerel) in a highly bioavailable re-esterified triglyceride form. It is ideal to help reach the desired >8% omega ratio in cell membranes and clinically proven to reduce the majority of Dry Eye Disease within 3 months. 8 1) Yagci A, Gurdal C. (2014) The role and treatment of inflammation in dry eye disease. Int Ophthalmol. 2014 Dec;34(6):1291-301. 2) Jones L, Downie LE, Korb D, Benitez-Del-Castillo JM, Dana R, Deng SX, Dong PN, Geerling G, Hida RY, Liu Y, Seo KY, Tauber J, Wakamatsu TH, Xu J, Wolffsohn JS< Craig JP, (2017) TFOS DEWS II Management and Therapy Report, Ocul Surf. 2017 Jul;15(3):575-628. 3) Graham I, Atar D, Borch-Johnsen K, Boysen G, Burell G, Cifkova R et al. (2007). European guidelines on cardiovascular disease prevention in clinical practice: full text. Fourth Joint Task Force of the European Society of Cardiology and other societies on cardiovascular disease prevention in clinical practice (constituted by representatives of nine societies and by invited experts). Eur J Cardiovasc Prev Rehabil 14 (Suppl 2), S1-S113. 4) Miljanovic B, Trivedi KA, Dana MR, et al. (2005) Relation between dietary n-3 and n-6 fatty acids and clinically diagnosed dry eye syndrome in women. Am J Clin Nutr. 2005; 82:887-893. 5) Russo GL. (2008) Dietary n-6 and n-3 polyunsatured fatty acids: from biochemistry to clinical implications in cardiovascular prevention. Biochem Pharmacol. 2009 Mar 15;77(6):937-46. 6) Walter SD, Gronert K, McClellan AL, Levitt RC, Sarantopoulos KD, Galor A. (2016) U-3 Tear Film Lipids Correlate with Clinical Measures of Dry Eye. Invest Ophthalmol Vis Sci 2016; 57(6):2472e8 7) Olenik A, Jim_enez-Alfaro I, Alejandre-Alba N, Mahillo-Fern_andez I. (2011) A randomised, double-masked study to evaluate the effect of meage-3 fatty acids supplementation in Meibomian gland dysfuction. Clin Interv Aging 2013;8: 1133e8. 8) Epitrpoulos, A.T., Donnenfeld, E.D., Shah, Z.A., Holland, E.J., Gross, M., Faulknet, W.J., … Perry, H.D. (2016). Effect of Oral Re-Esterified Omage-3 Nutritional Supplementation on Dry Eyes. Cornea, 35(9), 1185-1191. 9) Neubronner, J., Schuchardt, J.P., Kressel, G., Merkel, M., von Schacky, C. and Hahn, A. (2011) Enhanced increase of omega-3 index in response to long-term n-3 fatty acid supplementation from triacyl glycerides versus ethyl esters. European Journal of Clinical Nutrition (2011) 65, 247-254.

The Slug Year A month by month guide for dealing with slugs. In order to give your plants, flowers, and vegetables the best chances of survival against slug infestations, home gardeners should engage in a year round slug management programme. It’s probably not the best weather to be doing much in the garden, but on the occasional dry day there’s always something that can benefit from a little attention. Rake over the soil and remove any remaining fallen leaves so birds can eat any slug eggs that have been exposed. If it’s too wet to get onto the garden you could still peer beneath old stones or logs and remove any sheltering slugs and hibernating snails you may find. Slugs aside, January is an excellent month for lounging by the fireside in your favourite armchair; making plans for all the things you’ll be doing in your garden over the coming months. Spring is one of the slug’s most prolific egg laying periods, and they hatch in a matter of weeks when temperatures are consistently above 5°C. So you can make a major reduction to the slug population in your garden by eliminating as many as you can before they start to breed, giving yourself a head start in your war against those ghastly gastropods this year. Every slug left to roam the garden will produce up to 200 offspring throughout the year, and in addition, the offspring will also produce young. Continue to rake over your garden to remove leaves and plant debris, exposing more slugs and their eggs to hungry predators. Days are beginning to warm up and slugs are starting to become active again. Digging over your garden now that slugs are closer to the surface will expose them to hungry birds, and their eggs to the elements before they have chance to hatch into a new season of munching molluscs! Rotovating larger areas where possible is even more effective at eliminating both slugs and eggs. Aim to produce a fine tilth, thus reducing crack refuges. This produces a surface that’s less attractive to slugs but more favourable to young seedlings. Continue checking beneath all the favourite hiding places for slugs, snails, and their eggs. With April showers and warmer temperatures, a slug population explosion seems to descend upon the garden. Any surviving eggs are now hatching into miniature slugs that start feeding immediately, and despite their size, these tiny slugs have voracious appetites. It may seem early, but taking measures at this stage means less slugs develop into the monster munchers that wreak so much havoc during the coming months. If these warmer spring days tempt you to put out summer bedding and plant up containers early, please be extra vigilant because slugs love tender young plants. A mild April is often followed a colder spell later in May, and some late spring frost protection may also be required. The garden is flourishing and slugs are out in force, with newly hatched sluglets especially ravenous. Be sure to take steps to control them before they have the chance to ruin all your hard work. Adult slugs can eat 40 times their weight daily, and can completely devour new seedlings and bedding plants overnight. Use the various protection methods found on this site to keep your new plants safe at this critical stage of development. Once established, most can then withstand a little nibbling. Many slugs naturally feed on decaying vegetation but at this time of year their staple diet isn’t so readily available. That’s when they turn to the tender new growth that’s so abundant in the garden. Days are getting hotter and drier, and more inhospitable to the slug which must stay cool and moist to survive. So now the manic spring planting season is over, it’s time to turn your attention to the kind of places where slugs love to hide during these hot summer days. The sudden burst of lush new growth provides ample places for slugs to take refuge, so keeping this trimmed to a minimum not only helps show off the explosion of colourful summer bedding, it also robs the slug of some of its daytime haunts. Keep the lower leaves of larger annuals pruned because slugs love to shelter there too. Keep your lawn edges trimmed. This not only adds that finishing touch to a freshly mown lawn, it removes another favourite slug refuge. It’s from places like these that slugs emerge in droves to launch their night time attack on your plants. Go on a nocturnal slug hunt and see how many of the little blighters you can collect and dispose of. It’s a surprisingly effective form of slug control. Bedding and container plants are now more hardy and can probably withstand a little slug nibbling, but there’s no room for complacency. Now’s the time when the slug turns its attention to your tender young vegetables – lettuce being a particular favourite. It also loves juicy young fruits like tomatoes and strawberries just as much as you do! At this time of year some gardeners drench their gardens with a hose pipe, but the wetness just encourages slugs. In fact, plants grow stronger when water is scarce because it encourages deeper root growth in order to find moisture deep below the surface. However, some watering – particularly containers – is necessary, and this provides a dilemma. Traditionally, gardeners have watered of an evening to prevent the hot sun from drying the ground before the plants take up the water. But night time is ‘slug time’ and the wet conditions harbour them all the more. So early morning watering is preferred. Unfortunately that does mean ‘early’ or the summer sun will immediately dry the ground before your plants get a drink. Mid summer, and the garden is at its peak. To allow you to sit back and admire it at its best, keep things tidy – long grass trimmed, weeds weeded and herbaceous plants well pruned. The slug will hate you for it. To mulch or not to mulch? Another dilemma! A good mulch of compost enriches the soil and traps in moisture, but do you remember what slugs love? Decaying vegetation and moist conditions. So a mulch of something drier like bark is more slug-unfriendly. Another useful trick during the hot summer days is to learn the sort of places where slugs are hiding – beneath old bricks and boards, among flower pots and seed trays, for example. Check out these places and dispose of any slugs you find. You could even purposely create such places so you know exactly where slugs can be found. Maintain the evening slug patrol, especially if it’s been raining. It’s beginning to get cooler and damper, and slugs are starting to lay their autumn batch of eggs. Slugs lay eggs nearly all year round, but most prolifically in late summer and early autumn. Keep a look out for the clusters of 20-100 tiny white spheres under boards, stones, among flower pots, or in cracks in the soil – in fact anywhere cool dark and moist. Eliminate as many of these places as you can from your garden. Exposing any eggs to predators now means fewer slugs next season. As the summer bedding begins to die, remove it to the compost heap. If left it provides both food and shelter for slugs. This removal of plants past their best has the added benefit of showing off those still flowering. Autumn leaves are starting to fall, providing new hiding places for slugs. Keeping them raked up removes another refuge, as well as making the garden look a whole lot better too. A carpet of fallen leaves won’t benefit the lawn, but well rotted leaf mould works wonders for soil improvement. Collected leaves can be stored in bags or in a heap separate from the main compost heap, because they decompose much more slowly than other vegetation. I use old potting compost bags. It’s still warm enough for slugs to be active and egg laying, so remain vigilant. Remember, every egg destroyed now is one slug less next year. Keep on top of clearing away dead and dying annuals and removing any dead leaves from perennials. It’s easy to neglect the garden at this time of year. It’s over for another season and we tend not to care that slugs are munching on the last remnants of decaying vegetation. But it’s storing up trouble for next year. When the weather is favourable, take a last good look around. A little time spent grooming the garden will certainly improve its overall appearance for the rest of the autumn and winter. If the ground isn’t too wet, dig it over. This exposes both eggs and sheltering slugs to the elements and to other birds and animals. A secondary benefit is that it gives the winter frosts chance to break down the soil still further, ready for next Spring. If you’ve taken care of all the aforementioned tasks, any weary slugs have probably given up the fight and moved on to a less slug-unfriendly garden, leaving you to look forward to a springtime of reduced slug aggravation. Give yourself a pat on the back, take a month off, and make preparations for an enjoyable Christmas season. OK, so now you know what to do in June to banish slugs, but what else needs to be done in the garden this month? The Gardener’s Year Dad always said to me, “Gardening is tied to the seasons, and being a successful gardener is all about planning ahead.” You need to know what you should be doing, when, and why, so what needs doing in June? What do you want to do now Superior products for the serious gardener Everything you need to sow, grow, harvest, as well as cook your produce. Gastropods form the second largest class in the animal kingdom, the largest being the insects

Urgent tales of global crisis at the Berlin Film Festival A Berlin film festival is highlighting climate change in Asia and Africa , writes Ali Nobil Ahmad “What a sky!” Norwegian filmmaker Julia Dahr’s amazement at the stars that light up the firmament of a dry Kenyan night in the opening scene of Thank You for the Rain is well intended. She quickly corrects herself, however, as a string of clouds scuds tantalizingly across the constellations: “No Julia. This sky means problems. It means no rain.” The admonishment is Kisilu Musya’s, a farmer whose video diary provides poignant raw material for Dahr’s intimate portrait of a man and his family living on the front line of global warming. When the rains finally do arrive with crackles of thunder, Kisilu’s joy is shortlived. Surveying the destruction to his property caused by extreme weather, he jokes philosophically the next day: “We have a new house.” His wife Christina, adding to the black humour, exclaims: “My underwear is all over the place!” Thank You for the Rain is one of 14 documentaries and art films at a festival of screenings and talks this month, which I curated, and that are showing at the Moviemento cinema in Kreuzberg, Berlin. AnthropoSCENE – the festival’s title – is a pun on the popular scientific term, Anthropocene, which in its original spelling represents the current geological era of human-induced climactic instability. Coined in the 1980s by biologist Eugene Stoermer, its connotations of human vulnerability and interconnection with nature have resonated widely since the 2000s, piquing the interest of artists, philosophers and commentators. Despite its fashionable title, the festival’s use of cinema to raise awareness about climate change is hardly new. Surveys show Al Gore’s An Inconvenient Truth played an important role in focusing public attention on global warming. But Gore’s popular science narrative frames the crisis narrowly as an environmental one associated with melting ice caps, endangered polar bears and arctic fauna. In reality, “the climate crisis is a justice crisis – it’s about people”, says Tadzio Müller, an expert in climate and energy issues at the Rosa-Luxemburg-Stiftung political foundation, which is co-organising the festival. Pointing out that awareness in affluent societies about the global repercussions of privileged lifestyles remains low, Müller says: “We’ve done most to mess the planet up, yet it’s mostly people in the global South – those least responsible for global warming – with darker skin [who are] dying”. If Hurricane Harvey served as a reminder that not even wealthy nations can be spared the ravages of climate change, sparse media coverage of recent extreme flooding in South Asia, which killed thousands, underlines the differentiated weight accorded to suffering in the North and South. So too, last month’s under-reported mudslide in Sierra Leone. “The advance of the sea is a permanent threat on the African coast,” says Idrissou Mora-Kpai, director of Arlit, deuxième Paris, one of several films set in the African continent to be screened at anthropoSCENE. “In Benin, where I come from, many houses have already been swallowed up over the last couple of years”, he says, pointing out that disaster victims in the Third World are still mainly unaware of the link between their plight and climate change. “Unfortunately, few media raise awareness, and intellectuals who do talk about it are not given a platform. Governments and multinational companies try to keep people unaware of the real causes.” Responding to this knowledge deficit, anthropoSCENE’s four-day programme sets out to highlight the human consequences of climate change in the Middle East, Africa and Asia through several strategies. Firstly, through works such as Dahr’s, which document experiences of, and responses to, altered weather patterns and climate-related disasters. Another cluster of films investigates the fallout of energy policies falsely touted as antidotes to the problem of carbon emissions. Films from Turkey, India and South Africa expose the eco-friendly marketing used to promote hydro and atomic power for what critics call ‘greenwashing’. Award-winning director Sanjay Kak, who is travelling to Berlin to attend the screening of his Words on Water, says: “The discredited notion that hydropower is somehow clean and green, is still popular with the Indian state.” Aside from the well-documented, often irreversible ecological damage that building large dams for hydroelectric schemes cause to rivers, Kak points out that 20 million people of India’s poorest and most vulnerable people have been displaced by the 3,000-plus dams built in the past 50 years: “This is more than a controversy, it’s an absolute scandal.” With rural populations expelled from, or gradually abandoning agricultural areas of their own accord, the South’s ecological crisis is accelerating urbanisation and migration further afield to Europe itself. Films such as Arlit raise the prospect of a future marked by climate refugees, a topic of particular importance given the controversies that surround migration and asylum in Germany. For populations that cannot afford to emigrate, however, a different kind of environmental displacement results: habitats are transformed by the slow violence of toxic pollution, resulting in estrangement from place without mobility. Legacy Warnings! is a harrowing documentary of the reality of South Africa’s so-called ‘nuclear renaissance’. Long after companies leave with their profits, squatter settlements built on sites of uranium extraction are polluted by contaminated water; children are left to play amid the debris of discarded infrastructure. And yet, from Turkey’s Black Sea region to Johannesburg, affected populations are anything but passive. Farming communities uprooted by droughts and floods display strikingly similar responses to displacement – trauma followed by anger – then resistance targeted at the sources of discontent: politicians, corporations and the economic system as a whole. Critique and mobilisation often takes inspiration from the ethnic, spiritual and linguistic traditions and cultures of neglected regions. In Mohammad Ehsani’s Lady Urmia, a mystical meditation on the slow death of the world’s third largest saltwater lake, the lake herself recounts legends and myths over imagery of Azerbaijan’s traditional attire and dance. All of which is a long way from mainstream environmentalism in the affluent West, where green political consciousness remains associated with recycling, animal protection and abstract talk of ‘saving’ the planet. Environmentalism in the South, this festival makes clear, consists instead of immediate, highly localised battles for life, livelihoods and local ecosystems. By depicting Kisilu Musya’s remarkable journey from anonymity to activist on the global stage, films like Thank You for the Rain capture the dramatic narrative potential of such battles, ensuring those on the front line do not remain isolated. They do so effectively by connecting the macro problem of climate change to universal micro questions that might define any individual life: in Kisilu’s case, how to be a good father, a good husband, a strong leader. At times he lapses into despondency. Following a deadlock at the 2015 climate talks in Paris, eyes moist with emotion, he laments: “COP 21 is a battlefield – you are there to be seen not heard.” Soon enough, his tone switches back to determined resolution. Towards the end of the film, however, he asks, with trepidation: “Are we to fight climate change, or will climate change fight us?” President Donald Trump’s withdrawal of the United States from the Paris Accord suggests this question, in the lead up to the November’s UN climate conference in Bonn, remains as pertinent as ever. 'AnthropoSCENE: Film and Climate Justice in Asia and Africa’ runs from Thursday to Sunday at the Moviemento cinema in Berlin Updated: September 18, 2017 12:32 PM

When you’re a woman with larger feet, it’s important to understand that caring for your shoes is even more important than other women. You see, if I wore a size 7 shoe, I would always know that if my shoes fall apart, it doesn’t matter. Why? Well because then I’d be able to walk into almost ANY shoe store around the world and find my size. Isn’t that right? Well, I wear a ladies size 12 (USA). That’s a UK 10. A European 43. So needless to say, finding shoes can be a real challenge. When I do, I care for them. How? I spray my shoes before wearing them with a protector. I also keep the boxes. Yes, I keep the boxes. The other option is I get those storage containers. Occasionally I even keep the stuffing and the little silica packets that come in the box. These are really important for keeping moisture from building up. Especially if you tend to sweat in your shoes or walk in moist conditions. Moisture can breed mold or mildew on your shoes which looks like white patches. They sometimes are even fuzzy looking patches. It’s best to let your shoes dry completely before you store them in a box If you ever do get mold on your shoes using pure white vinegar can help eliminate this problem. Click Here for tips on cleaning mildew and mold from shoes. For tall fashion boots, storing them using a boot tree is the best way to help them keep their shape. What I do during off-season is keep the stuffing or buy tissue used for gifts to stuff in the front of the boot. It helps keep them dry along with the shape of the toes. If they are soft leather you can fold them and keep in a storage box.

Wake Up and Say Goodbye (2008) had not been out for very long when David Usher announced on Facebook, the most trusted of media outlets, that he was going to start working on an acoustic album. “I like acoustic albums!” thousands of his Facebook friends agreed. He even created a space on his website for fans to vote on songs they’d like to hear reworked acoustically. My vote is not on the album—but, in all fairness to David, I suggested a song from his Moist days…and in greater fairness: who the hell am I to decide? The Mile End Sessions, named after his neighbourhood in Montreal, still does well even without my input. Continue reading

One of the many fabulous things about the French language (the study of which eludes me daily, no matter how much I talk about picking it up again), is that there are so many words that have various different meanings, and some of the slang is just downright funny. ‘Cocotte’ is one of those new ones that I just learned when I went to this fabulous new French brasserie earlier this week. Love it! I suppose the same thing exists in English where a word can be in one way defined as something to do with food, and yet have another completely different meaning (crumpet for example, or waffle), but it just sounds so much better in French! Cocotte is a new chic French eatery that has opened on my favourite ladder street. It’s located just outside the periphery of the main crowds on Hollywood/Staunton, next to the Cabane a Vin wine cellar and just up from Kushiyaki Beco and On Lot 10. Opened and run by the Moldovan brothers, who hail from Paris but have a love for all things New York, the decor oozes chic-ness. One of the owners is a friend, and it is so interesting to see his personality directly translated into the look and feel of the restaurant. I love the use of luxurious wallpaper, the moss green velvet banquette, the red white and blue mis-matched chairs, the retro lighting, even the dark purples walls in the bathroom. And now to the food … The burrata burst onto the plate upon the slightest touch, and the pairing with strawberries was unusual yet tasty. This dish is a thoughtful one – the beef tartare comes with roquefort, which you can choose to mix in or leave on the side (thankfully, for us blue cheese haters). The tartare sauce is served in a separate jar, which I thought was very considerate to the diner – one can choose to add as much or as little of it as they’d like. The foie gras is served with smoked duck, raspberries and a sort of cookie crumb. It is not served with any toast or bread (perhaps you’re expected to eat it sans pain), but you can ask for it on the side. Believe it or not, I forgot to take a picture of the ‘Langoustine, Barely Touched’. As the name suggests, the langoustine is just ever so slightly seared, very fresh and light. It is clearly one of their more popular dishes, and when we were told that the kitchen only had 3 servings left, we took them all. The veal melted in the mouth; moist, with a very subtle taste, and it was perfectly cooked. The fish was very well executed, with a lovely creamy potato puree. Stacked on top were vegetables and crisp shrimp, resting on a rich lightly foamed bisque.

Trilogy Nourishing Body Lotion 175ml Trilogy Nourishing Body Lotion provides the perfect, non-greasy hydrating formula that will leave your skin feeling smooth as silk and conditioned all day long. The formula combines natural ingredients and pure plant oils to protect, moisturise and deeply nourish all skin types. The product also brings together the beautiful fragrances of rose geranium, frankincense and lavender in an aromatic blend that will soothe and calm your body and mind and leave you feeling refreshed and rejuvenated. Trilogy Nourishing Body Lotion is highly recommended for those with sun-damaged, dry, mature and sensitive skin types. This product DOES NOT CONTAIN: Residues of pesticides or herbicides Genetically engineered ingredients D.E.A (diethanolamine) or T.E.A (triethanolamine) PEG (Polyethylene glycol) Harsh detergents or surfactants. Almond oil, jojoba oil, evening primrose oil, vitamin E, rose geranium oil, frankincense oil, lavender oil. For best results apply a small amount to skin after cleansing whilst skin is still moist. Apply generously after sun, swimming or bathing for intense moisture renewal. Write an online review and share your thoughts with others.

Slow Roasted Rosemary Lamb with Aromatic Honey In Italy it is almost a crime not to have lamb for the main course on Easter, so we have created an agnello recipe especially for the occasion. Unlike elsewhere in Italy, here in Liguria it is incredibly hard to find quality and sustainably sourced lamb. This is down to the geography of our landscape here on the Riviera dei Fiori where the steeply terraced hinterland between coast and Alps is covered with olive and fruit trees, wild herbs and flowers but not sheep! My search for traceable lamb has taken me just over the border to France. In this borderland where over the centuries lands have been both French and Italian and recipes and traditions have their Provencal and Ligurian interpretations many things remain very distinctive of their village or valley with differences in diet and culinary traditions from one valley to the next literally defined by landscape and microclimate. In Provence, like Sicily, lamb is especially sought after when the lamb is raised in the traditional ‘milk fed’ way. Meaning the sheep roam free grazing on wild herbs, giving birth high up in the hills to lambs who suckle only on their mother’s milk. The milk is free from any added growth hormones or antibiotics. It was years ago on the Island of Ischia that I first had slow roasted lamb cooked with aromatic honey and wild rosemary. It was sensational and not surprisingly I found lamb being cooked in a similar way up in the hills over Nice. This version cooks in the oven on a bed of potatoes and onions. The meat remains tender and moist from the lengthy, slow cooking process. - Serves 6 - Nudo Extra Virgin Olive Oil - 5/6 good sized sprigs of really fresh rosemary - Shoulder of spring lamb, 1.5kg - 2kg/ 3.3 - 4.4 lbs - Garlic cloves, 3 peeled and sliced into little sticks - Roasting potatoes, 1kg/ 2.2 lbs peeled and cut into large chunks and coated in Nudo Extra Virgin Olive Oil - Red onions, 1kg/ 2.2 lbs peeled and roughly cut - White wine, 250ml/ 8.5 fl oz - Sea salt and freshly ground black pepper - Aromatic natural runny honey, 4/6 tablespoons -depending on the size of the joint You need a good sized roasting tin - the lamb needs to fit in snugly and the potatoes must be able to form a good layer in the bottom Heat the oven to 220°C/Fan 200°C/Gas 7/425°F - Use a sharp knife to cut slits into the lamb’s skin deep enough to score into the flesh. - Break two sprigs of rosemary into 2cm/ 3/4 inch pieces and stuff them and the garlic sticks into the slits getting them deep into the flesh. Season the lamb with sea salt and freshly ground pepper. - Fill the bottom of a roasting tin with the chopped potatoes and onions and two roughly broken up sprigs of rosemary and season with sea salt. - Pour about 200ml/ 6.7 fl oz of the wine over the lamb and using the last rosemary sprig as a brush, cover the lamb with the honey, leaving some aside to baste the joint whilst it roasts. - Roast in the oven for 20-30 minutes until the lamb starts to colour. Then cover the lamb with baking parchment and reduce the heat to 160°C/fan 140°C/gas 3/ 320°F and roast for another 3 hours or until the lamb is a deep rich brown. - Every hour use the rosemary sprig to add a little more honey and add more wine ( and then water if you need more liquid) if the vegetables look like they need a little more moisture. Rest before serving. Serve with Spring Greens Use our tasty ingredients... Filter by section - Baking recipes - Drinks recipes - Holidays recipes - Italian recipes - Mains recipes - Olive oil recipes - Starters recipes - Vegetarian recipes Filter by category - BBQ & Picnic - Mother's Day - Olive oil baking Filter by ingredient - Chilli oil - Darjeeling Tea - Lemon olive oil - Mandarini oil - Olive oil - Red Wine - Ricotta Cheese - Rosemary olive oil - Swiss Cheese - Thyme olive oil - White Wine

Crassula is an indoor succulent plant family that displays surprising evergreen leafage. It shows up in more and more places for its very trendy ornamental value. Core Crassula facts Name – Crassula Family – Crassulaceae Type – succulent plant Height – 8 inches (20 cm) Exposure – well-lit Soil – light, well-drained Foliage – evergreen Flowering – summer Caring for it is something anyone can succeed in, even though to keep it beautiful these tips will be very useful. Planting and repotting crassula Crassula is most often native to South Africa and adapts well to mild climates. It is preferable to grow your crassula indoors if you expect freezing over the winter. Indeed, the slightest frost would kill it. - You may repot your crassula just after having purchased it if you’ve purchased it when not in flower, but pots for this plant are usually designed for at least another two years of service before growing too small for the plant. - After that, an annual repotting whenever your crassula looks like it is in a tight fit is recommended, with soil mix and sand, one part each. - Crassula can only survive outdoors in winter in regions closer to the equator. - If planting outside, prefer full sun exposure. Crassula can be propagated by preparing cuttings from young stems. It is usually quite easy to get the crassula to sprout roots. - Slice off young stems with a sharp and disinfected blade. - Plant the young cutting in special cutting soil mix. - Ensure the soil stays a bit moist (water only when it has turned really dry). - Keep your cutting near light, but not in direct sunlight. Caring for crassula Although caring for crassula is straightforward, a few tips will help you grow a very nice, long-living plant: - It requires a lot of sunlight. - Water as little as you dare because this is a plant that stores water in its leaves. - The soil must stay rather nutrient-poor, no fertilizer is needed. - Prune your crassula when the branches get old or look weak. - The pruning is preferably performed after the blooming. - Avoid cutting more than ⅓ off each branch, and, this is important, leave at least a few leaves on each pruned branch. Watering indoor crassula - During the blooming, 1 to 2 watering sessions a week, when the soil has dried well. - Apart from the blooming season, 1 to 2 watering sessions a fortnight. - In winter, light watering 1 time a month is largely enough. In any case, it is important to wait for the soil to have dried well before watering, in which case it is also better to water once rarely with a significant amount rather then having many smaller watering sessions. BE CAREFUL! Leaves from succulents are loaded with water. If they start collapsing or drooping over, it shows that a new watering session is due! Types and varieties of Crassula Crassula varieties are numerous and varied. There are hundreds of them! - The most famous is Crassula ovata, also called the Jade tree. It has many distinctive cultivars that breeders have selected. Other interesting species include: - Crassula perforata, which bears long skewer-like twigs with oval leaves. - Crassula helmsii, that grows in extremely wet environments and is frost-hardy. - Buddha’s Temple, with thin, stacked, mesmerizing leaf patterns. It’s a recent hybrid of C. perfoliata and C. pyramidalis. Native to either South Africa or Mexico, depending on the variety, Crassula is a very beautiful succulent with particularly appealing leaves. With its reduced need for care, it poses practically no difficulty to the caretaker. Although excess water is what most often kills it, it also like having a lot of light, but not scorching direct sun, as when behind a window. You can set it in a pot or a garden box, along edges or on rocky ground. Smart tip about Crassula plants If ever you mistakenly break a leaf off, simply rest it atop soil and mist it from time to time. It will sprout roots and give rise to a new plant! Credits for images shared to Nature & Garden (all edits by Gaspard Lorthiois): Crassula flower by Jennifer Fabian under © CC BY-NC-SA 2.0 Buddha’s temple crassula by Barbara Gollan under Pixabay license

- Makes 20 - 1 cup all-purpose flour - 1 teaspoon baking powder - 1/4 teaspoon baking soda - 1/4 teaspoon salt - 3 tablespoons toasted wheat germ - 1/4 cup chilled vegetable shortening - 1/3 cup buttermilk or plain yogurt - 1 large egg yolk - 10 frankfurters, ends trimmed and frankfurters halved crosswise - Preheat oven to 375°F. and grease a large baking sheet. - In a bowl, whisk together flour, baking powder, baking soda, salt and wheat germ. Blend in shortening with a pastry blender or your fingertips until mixture resembles coarse meal. In a small bowl whisk together buttermilk or yogurt and yolk and stir into flour mixture, stirring until mixture just forms a moist dough. - Knead dough 4 times on a floured surface and with a floured rolling pin roll out into a 12-inch square. Cut dough into 1 1/2-inch-wide strips and roll a strip around middle of a frankfurter until dough just overlaps. Cut pig-in-blanket free from strip and make 19 more pigs-in-blankets in same manner, arranging them, seam sides down, as they are made on prepared baking sheet. Pigs-in-blankets may be prepared up to this point 1 day ahead and chilled, covered. - Bake pigs-in-blankets in upper third of oven until pale golden, about 15 minutes. Makes 20 pigs-in-blankets. - Carbohydrates6 g(2%) - Fat9 g(14%) - Protein4 g(7%) - Saturated Fat3 g(16%) - Sodium232 mg(10%) - Polyunsaturated Fat1 g - Fiber0 g(1%) - Monounsaturated Fat4 g - Cholesterol21 mg(7%)

Daisy will be 10 this coming June. She's been limping a lot lately and about a week ago, after a play session, she wouldn't put any weight on her left rear leg. Lynn works at a College where they have a vet tech program with an operating Vet Clinic. We had Daisy in for her shots and the vet said they'd schedule her in for an X-ray on her knee. Since it is part of the training and Daisy serves as a test patient, it costs nothing for the X-ray. As it turns out, she's got arthritis in the knee. She's on medication now and after a few weeks, we'll see if we want to do some form of therapy. The vet mentioned laser therapy - says they have had amazing results in restoring function in dogs much worse than our Daisy girl. Now she's like me - one arthritic knee to slow us down. :-\ Poor girl. I hope the meds are helping. Won't someone please feed me! I hope the meds help, poor girl. Hope her meds help. Are you giving her any supplements like glucosamine/chondrontin? Just part of the aging process, Mark. Don't forget moist heat and massage to give Daisy temporary relief. Massaging their joints is really quite relaxing for the massager and massagee alike. I love to do Paddy's ankles and lower spine. Seamus and Flynn Don't I know it's a part of the aging process!* :-[ I was told 10 years ago by an Army doctor that I was 5 years away from a knee replacement. Despite some mild pain from time to time, I'm still hanging in there. Just had to change my lifestyle a bit - running every day has ceased to be an option.* ;D I was giving Daisy G&C every day until the reports came out questioning the effectiveness.* She's on Deramaxx now and what a huge difference. In just two days she's now putting weight on the knee and walking with only a mild limp. And, I will take any excuse to spend some time petting/rubbing her leg!!* ;D The Deramaxx is great. When Paddy has a really creaky day in the winter he gets a half tablet and another half later on if I don't see some substantial relief. Seamus and Flynn I'll have to ask my vet about Deramaxx. I was giving Mocha rimadyl for awhile, but it doesn't agree with her stomach at all. It works great for Daisy - a bigh difference in her in jest days. But, she has an iron stomach. SJe once ate rat poison and we tried to induce vomiting with hydrogen peroxide...she loved it. The vet tried with something else..she loved it. Finally, they thought they have to stuff activated charcoal down her thoat...of course, she loved it and ate it out of a bowl. ;D I hope she starts to feel better soon and let us know about what treatment you will go with interested to know about that laser treatment

Looking for How to can your own homemade canned pickled garlic (complete directions with photos) in 2019? Scroll down this page and follow the links. And if you bring home some fruit or vegetables and want to can, freeze, make jam, salsa or pickles, see this page for simple, reliable, illustrated canning, freezing or preserving directions. There are plenty of other related resources, click on the resources dropdown above. If you have questions or feedback, please let me know! Garlic can be tough to safely can at home. Are you looking for a safe, reliable and easy recipe to make and can your own pickled garlic? Here it is, a university and USDA tested recipe, which also appears in the Ball Blue Book. You can do it with basic equipment already in your kitchen - you just need a canning pot. And thanks to the vinegar in pickled garlic, you can use either a plain open water bath pot or a pressure canner (which will also let you can low acid vegetables!) Pickling mellows garlic's pungent bite, creating a unique bite-sized burst of flavor to accent a variety of dishes. Toss pickled garlic into Italian spaghetti sauce, serve it in sandwiches, use as an antipasto or a garnish for salads. Or just eat it as a tasty appetizer, with the side benefit of warding off vampires, werewolves, friends, neighbors, girlfriends, boyfriends, spouses, partners and significant "others". But the dog will still hang with you... I haven't got many photos for this recipe yet, but I'll work on that soon! Prepared this way, the jars have a shelf life of about 12 months, and aside from storing in a cool, dark place, require no special attention. And for those who want a hot, spicy version; Washington State University has a recipe for pickled garlic with hot peppers here. That same page also has an onion relish recipe. And this page from University of California - Davis (UC Davis) has broad information about garlic preservation. The most important step! You need garlic that are FRESH and crisp. Remove and discard any soft, diseased, spotted and chewed up garlic. You can grow your own, pick your own, or buy them at the grocery store. If you want to make larger quantities, then about 12 pounds of garlic is typically makes about 5 quarts or 10 pints of pickled garlic. I wouldn't use canned garlic; what's the point: Most of the flavor is gone from them, and you can always get fresh garlic. This is a good time to get the jars ready! The dishwasher is fine for the jars; especially if it has a "sanitize" cycle. Otherwise put the jars in boiling water for 10 minutes. I just put the lids in a small pot of almost boiling water for 5 minutes, and use the magnetic "lid lifter wand" (available from target, other big box stores, and often grocery stores; and available online - see this page) to pull them out. Rinse out your canner, put the rack in the bottom, and fill it with hot tap water. (Of course, follow the instruction that came with the canner, if they are different). Put it on the stove over low heat just to get it heating up for later on. Remove the tough outer leaves. I'm sure you can figure out how to wash the garlic in plain cold or lukewarm water using your hands. Now see if you can wash the smell off your hands. Good luck in that. To soften and loosen skins, blanch garlic cloves in rapidly boiling water 30 seconds; immediately immerse in cold water, drain and peel cloves. Separate garlic bulbs into cloves. In a large stainless steel, unbroken ceramic, porcelain, glass or teflon pot, combine: And bring to a boil. Add the peeled garlic cloves boil and gently 1 minute; remove from heat. Pack garlic into a hot jar to within 3/4 inch (2 cm) of top rim. Add the pickling solution solution (that they were cooked in) to cover garlic to within 1/2 inch (1 cm) of top rim (headspace). Using a nonmetallic utensil, remove air bubbles. Wipe jar rim removing any stickiness. Put the lids on and do not overtighten. Place jar in canner; repeat for remaining garlic and hot liquid. Using the jar tongs, put the jars on the rack in the canner. Make sure the tops of the jars are covered by at least 1 inch of water. At altitudes up to 1000 ft (305 m), process the filled jars for 35 minutes. Start timing when the water returns to a full boil. When processing time is complete, turn heat off and remove canner lid. When boil subsides - bubbles no longer rise to surface (3 to 5 minutes) - remove jars without tilting. Cool jars upright, undisturbed 24 hours. DO NOT RETIGHTEN screw bands. Note: This recipe was specially formulated to allow home canners to preserve a low acid food - garlic - in commonly available boiling water canners. Do not deviate from the recipe ingredients, quantities, jar size and processing method and time. Any change could affect the safety of the end product. The chart below will help you determine the right processing time and pressure, if you have a different type of canner, or are above sea level. For most people, using a plain open water bath canner, the time will be 35 minutes. The Ball Blue book has a similar recipe that uses only 10 minutes, but I'll stick with the USDA's recommendation of 35 minutes for safety. You can use either a plain water bath canner OR a pressure canner, since the vinegar adds so much acidity. Lift the jars out of the water and let them cool on a wooden cutting board or a towel, without touching or bumping them in a draft-free place (usually takes overnight), here they won't be bumped. You can then remove the rings if you like, but if you leave them on, at least loosen them quite a bit, so they don't rust in place due to trapped moisture. Once the jars are cool, you can check that they are sealed verifying that the lid has been sucked down. Just press in the center, gently, with your finger. If it pops up and down (often making a popping sound), it is not sealed. If you put the jar in the refrigerator right away, you can still use it. Some people replace the lid and reprocess the jar, then that's a bit iffy. If you heat the contents back up, re-jar them (with a new lid) and the full time in the canner, it's usually ok. You're done! From left to right: Q. Why did the garlic cloves in my pickles turn green or bluish green? A. According to the USDA, greenish or blue coloration is a chemical reaction that is usually due to: Q. Is it safe to can garlic in a traditional water bath? If so how long do you do process them? A. PICKLED garlic, Yes! The vinegar adds the needed acidity to make it safe. Non- pickled (i.e., no vinegar added), NO.. Quoting from the Ohio State University Extension's Fact Sheet: "Pressure canning is the only safe method for home canning vegetables. Clostridium botulinum is the bacterium that causes botulism food poisoning in low-acid foods, such as vegetables. The bacterial spores are destroyed only when the vegetables are processed in a pressure canner at 240 degrees Fahrenheit (F) for the correct amount of time. Clostridium botulinum is the bacterium commonly found in vegetables and meats. It is harmless until it finds itself in a moist, low-acid, oxygen-free environment or a partial vacuum. Under these conditions, the bacterium can grow and produce toxins dangerous to people and animals. Do not process (low acid) vegetables using the boiling water bath because the botulinum bacteria can survive that method. Can fruits and vegetables be canned without heating if aspirin is used? No. Aspirin should not be used in canning. It cannot be relied on to prevent spoilage or to give satisfactory products. Adequate heat treatment is the only safe procedure. Is it safe to can garlic in a boiling water bath if vinegar is used? No. Recommended processing methods must be used to assure safety. Recommended processing times cannot be shortened if vinegar is used in canning fresh vegetables. (This does not refer to pickled vegetables.) Salt and sugar are not preservatives for vegetables: they are added to stabilize and improve flavor, but will not prevent spoilage. Salicylic acid is also NOT a preservative. The University of Illinois reports: Using Aspirin for Canning Several years ago, a recipe circulated using aspirin to acidify tomatoes and garlic for canning. Aspirin is not recommended for canning. While it contains salicylic acid, it does not sufficiently acidify tomatoes or garlic for safe hot water bath canning. garlic are low acid foods and may only be processed safely in a pressure canner. Lemon juice or vinegar is recommended to acidify tomato products for safe water bath processing. Think of it like smoking. We all know someone who smoke their entire life and lived to be 90. But the cemeteries are filled with the vast majority who didn't. You'll hear people say "my grandmother did it that way for 20 years". But of course, the people who died from food poisoning aren't around and often didn't have descendants to tell their tale...

Violent Lips (Candy Dots) A pair of scissors, a mirror, cotton balls, water, and your Violent Lips. The biggest difference between applying the Glitteratti Collection, and the existing line of Violent Lips Appliqués is that you must measure and apply the lips with your mouth open to a relaxed "oh" shape. 1. Remove desired shape from the stencil. 2. Measure the appliqué to your eye, starting from the outside corner in. 3. If needed, cut the inner eye corner of the appliqué to your eye width measurement according to the guidelines. 4. Peel the plastic film off of the appliqué. 5. Slightly wet the paper backing of the appliqué with a moist cotton tip to make the appliqué flexible. 6. Handle the corners of the appliqué carefully and apply the sticky side of the appliqué to your eyelid, placing it as close as you can to your lash line. Continue to soak the paper backing in water with the tip until the paper backing slides off easily. 7. Seal and smooth the appliqué with the wet cotton tip. Repeat steps for the other eye.

In a world of bustle and change there is always stillness Outside, it has been a mild day: mild but moist. The air scarcely breathes: a stark contrast to yesterday’s winds. But whilst yesterday was wild and spirited, today seems damp and tired. Listless. As I approached the post box at the top of the hill this morning, I met Peter, our farming neighbour, and his son, Edward. There was clear evidence on the road of their most recent task: the cows had been brought in. Were they coming in for the winter? Out of sight a cow bellowed mournfully. If she has begun her winter incarceration, it will be many months before she and her sisters are once again on the valley slopes. The view from here will have emptied. Our view is never quite in harmony when the cows have gone. Continue reading “The view from here: a Tuesday in October” After all, I only get one crack at this next decade! I’ve been in a dilemma. I want to write a birthday blog yet why would anyone want to read it? I remind myself that essentially one blogs for oneself. But the purpose of publishing is that others should read what is published, and if there is an audience, then surely the audience deserves consideration. And really – can I expect anyone to want to read about my birthday? So with the subject matter made clear, feel free to move along if birthdays aren’t your thing. Continue reading “The View from Here: when life doesn’t quite go as planned” To walk along a harbour wall is always to walk with history While others talk of signs of spring, I’m still in the throes of winter. I may be revelling in the birdsong and the sturdy, bright friendliness of the têtes a têtes; I may be delighted by the sight of scudding clouds in a bright blue sky and the clump of bashful purple crocus and the single bluebell I discovered this week (yes, really). But I’m not yet ready to let winter go. Shy pale primroses, shiny bright celandines and bold lemon and yellow daffodils have already burst upon the garden and the lanes here, and I welcome them. But winter shall have her time in the spotlight too. Continue reading “The View from Here: Of Winters Past …” Turning away, I returned to the robins in the sunshine and pondered for a while on the lives playing out around me… We intersect, but how rarely we connect. We parked away from the main car park on our last visit to Lanhydrock, opting instead for the smaller and nearer car park at Respryn. It was a sparkling bright winter’s day. The holly was polished to perfection and there were robins in abundance. This bold little fellow caught my eye. Continue reading ““You reading this, Be ready”” The mud maid greeted us on our Hallowe’en hike. Not that we were seriously hiking. More of a Saturday afternoon stroll if truth be told. But Heligan appears to be hauntingly beautiful whenever we visit and this was no exception. Continue reading “Hallowe’en at Heligan” …the sky streaks with softest blush and ribboned strands flutter out across the heavens. The bright moon bathes in a sky-bath of pink roses. Living just a few hundred miles further west than we were means the sun rises and sets about 15 minutes later than I’ve been used to. I wouldn’t have expected this to make much of a difference but it does. Already the mornings seem very much darker than I remember in autumns past. And I like it. I’m enjoying waking up in the dark; the bed warm and cosy; the bedroom chilly, making it that little bit easier to stay wrapped in the duvet. If I’m lucky, Harri will be still sleeping quietly somewhere on the bed. It’s a good time for letting my thoughts drift drowsily; a good time for gratitude. The world is waking up; the whole day stretches before me: Continue reading “The View from Here: mist and morning moons” The view from here is wide open It is the first day of September and I have climbed the stairs to a perfect, golden, early-autumn morning. The cows are back; they’ve returned overnight and are strung lazily across the valley: sturdy calves quieter now: smaller forms of their placid mothers. Their burnished hides glisten as the sun warms them; their shadows long across the pasture. Continue reading “The View from Here: new day, new month, new year”

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Most of the Cairngorm Munros accessible from Deeside involve long track approaches along wide open glens. Braemar, conveniently located on the elbow of the A93 Perth to Aberdeen road acts the gateway village to a vast swathe of Scottish upland. After a busy few weeks, Imogen and I were up for some remoteness and the forecast was for heavy downpours in the West Highlands. The only solution was a good bit of Munro bagging out on the dry, eastern hulks of Ben Avon and Beinn a’Bhuird. These two summits tucked away on the far Eastern extremity of the Cairngorm massif form together an impressive expanse of granite plateau above 1000 m. The prospect of heading out on multi-day expeditions from Braemar always conjures an exciting, exploratory feeling; a rarity for outings in the UK mountains. In these parts, unless you’re up for epic 12-hour + days with long track based trudges sandwiching the high ground experience in the middle of the day, you’re forced to overnight somewhere out in the wilds. We arrived at a damp and windy Linn of Dee carpark just as dusk was setting in on Friday. It was the first time we had hit Deeside outside of the Scottish winter season so we were surprised at the number of vehicles in the car park (which is usually deserted when we turn up late on a Friday). Some were inhabited, but most were locked up for the weekend, their owners no doubt out frequenting the bothies and heather moorland of the inner Cairngorms. The starting point for our route was the Linn of Quoich, so after an early breakfast in the car to escape midges at Linn of Dee, we trundled eastwards a few kilometres along the north side of the Dee to the small carpark at the road-end. At this point, the track leading along Glen Quoich departs. Once booted and saddled, we were soon getting into a warming rhythm heading upstream along the attractive, mostly forested glen. After about 8 km, the Quoich Water swings east and then north around the bulk of high ground forming Beinn a’Bhuird. We continued upstream until the fine cropped heathery hillside of Carn Eag Dhubh gives access onto the Ben Avon plateau at its southernmost end. After a largely dry morning with sunny intervals, the promised afternoon showers began to build as we gained height. Upon reaching the 1000 m contour near Carn Eas (1089 m) we were shrouded in drizzle and mist, with the brisk westerly just adding that full-on Cairngorm experience. There was something a little more benign about the whole experience compared with most of our winter outings in the area, despite us wearing almost similar quantities of clothing. Luckily, the showers and cloud were short-lived and by the time we had completed the long trudge over the open plateau to the corrie rim of Ben Avon’s north face, blue sky featured once more. Indeed, the granite-t0r featuring the true summit of Ben Avon; Leabaidh an Daimh Bhuidhe (1171 m) looked very fine indeed against the clear air. Unfortunately, the very highest point would have involved some rather delicate scrambling along the summit rocks. Not a great idea given the 60 mph gusts that were blasting through the many crevices in the tor. We did just manage 5 minutes of shelter on the eastern side for a quick snack looking out over Royal Aberdeenshire and southeastwards towards Lochnagar. After retracing our steps for a kilometre or so, we descended gravelly slopes into ‘The Sneck’, the high, 980 m watershed between the Quoich and Avon waters. From this point, there are great views of the high, glacially scoured corrie of Garbh Choire on the east face of Beinn a’Bhuird; a feature that must contain many fine and relatively unfrequented winter snow gullies. A short push up the other side, leads to the equally vast, twin plateau of Beinn a’Bhuird. The first top, Cnap a’Chleirich, 1174 m, is little more than a pile of boulders and staging point for yet more vast, featureless upland. The benefit of walking on these plateau in mostly clear weather is that ground can be covered relatively rapidly. Our next point of interest, was the true summit and ‘North Top’ of Beinn a’Bhuird, 1197 m. The rather uncelebratory cairn is located around 150 m back from the corrie rim of Coire nan Clach; one of a series of perfectly formed scoops hanging high on the mountainside above the broad breach of the Water of Quoich. We reached the summit of our second munro of the day around 17:30 and at this key point were faced with a key decision – where to head to strike camp? Our original plan had been to descend via a broad stream gully to the Dubh Lochan, nestled high on the east flank of Beinn a’Bhuird, however the weather was showing no signs of improving that evening and the prospect of a draughty, drizzly session with the camping stove was not particularly appealing. Instead of this, we opted to continue southwards along and off the plateau in the direction of a long hill track that leads off the high ground back down towards the Quoich Water, around 8 km away. This lead us at long last to some rather sheltered, sweet and mature pine forest sometime just after 20:00. After a session of pumping and filtering down at the Quoich, we were re-stocked with several litres of water; sufficient to replenish ourselves with pasta and hot chocolates after our wonderful 31 km outing. Despite the pitch being on a slight slope, we slept very well indeed. The unrivalled comfort of the Therm-a-Rest NeoAir mattresses are just what you need after a long day on the hill! Who needs a hotel bed? Given that we had made it back down into Glen Quoich on Saturday evening, Sunday morning simply presented us with a leisurely stroll back down the track leading to the Linn of Quoich. The blustery, moist weather still prevailed but at glen level, it was reasonably mild. July after all! Our gradual downhill track trudge passed with ease and the pleasant sign of young Scots Pine, Mountain Ash and Birch trees rounded of a perfect weekend in the wilderness. Glen Quoich falls within the Mar Lodge Estate, managed by the National Trust for Scotland. With a progressive policy on reducing deer numbers and replanting native Caledonian forest. The landscape is beginning to take on a more primeval feel, with restored natural processes. The results are clear, not a red deer in sight all weekend, no ticks found crawling on our trousers or tent and a good variety of forest birds inhabiting the rapidly reforesting Glen Quoich (beautiful Bullfinches seen fluttering around the trees on the final slope back down to the carpark). Now all that is needed is the restoration of the natural top predators to release full trophic diversity. Upon return from this trip, I note with interest via the Mar Lodge Estate website that the first successful breeding attempt of a Hen Harrier in decades has been confirmed over the weekend. Great news for raptors, I hope this is just the start of further rewilding in the Cairngorms. Postscript – I’m just adding the final touches to this blog at 21:00 on Tuesday 19th July and just two days after the trip I’m in the back yard with the laptop, shorts and shirt, 28 C! It feels several seasons away from the cool, blustery weather in the north over the weekend. Even the Dachstein mitts had to come out at times!

By George Papadelis Brunnera (Brunnera macrophylla) is an outstanding perennial for the shade garden. Its common names are Siberian bugloss, heart-leaf brunnera and perennial forget-me-not. The word “perennial” is important to note here because there is another forget-me-not that is not a true perennial. Myosotis is the biennial forget-me-not. Its flowers are usually soft blue in spring on plants only about 6 to 8 inches tall. After flowering, that forget-me-not will usually die, but only after it drops seeds everywhere. The seeds will usually grow and form plants that will bloom the following spring. Brunnera macrophylla, the perennial forget-me-not, will last for years and years, promising beautiful flowers and foliage season after season. Brunnera produces clouds of baby blue flowers each May. Each flower only measures about 1/4 inch across and has a tiny white eye in the center. The flowers rest above furry green, heart-shaped leaves measuring up to 8 inches across. As the flowers fade, the leaves grow larger and form attractive rounded mounds that grow about 12 to 15 inches tall and spread 24 inches wide. Several years ago, a variegated version of Brunnera came along. The wide white edge of Brunnera macrophylla ‘Variegata’ made this plant a collector’s item almost immediately. This mound of striking foliage looks exceptionally attractive when topped by the baby blue flowers. After the spring blooms, the foliage flourishes and persists until late in fall. A less common cultivar called ‘Dawson’s White’ has similar bicolored leaves with a slightly more creamy margin. ‘Hadspen Cream’ has lighter green leaves with creamy white edges. Another interesting variety called ‘Langtrees’ has dark green leaves with silver spots along the border. All this foliage looks wonderful when contrasted with fine-textured leaves (such as sedges, astilbes, and ferns) or sword-like leaves (like Siberian iris). There is also a beautiful silver-leaved version of the perennial forget-me-not called ‘Jack Frost.’ The green-veined leaves are very unusual and provide an excellent source of silver in the shade garden. A newer variety called ‘Looking Glass’ has even less pronounced green veins and slightly cupped leaves. Only a few perennials such as dead nettle (Lamium), Japanese painted fern, and lungwort can provide silver in the shade. Try these silver leaves against a big blue hosta, a bright green maidenhair fern, a black-leaved snakeroot (Cimicifuga ramosa ‘Hillside Black Beauty’), or a purple-leaved coral bells (Heuchera). Even without flowers, the leaves of the silver-leaved brunnera will steal the show. The perennial forget-me-not will thrive in moist soil and should have less than about six hours of sun, preferably in the morning. Soil that is filled with moisture-stealing tree roots will probably prove to be too dry. Amend sandy or clay soil with organic matter such as aged pine bark, compost, or peat moss. Trim back the dead leaves in fall, and await the showy spring blooms. No matter how you use it, the perennial forget-me-not is a shade garden favorite with its excellent foliage and showy flowers. George Papadelis is the owner of Telly’s Greenhouse in Troy, MI. At a Glance: Brunnera Common names: Siberian bugloss, heart-leaf brunnera, perennial forget-me-not Botanical name: Brunnera macrophylla (BRUN-er-uh mak-ro-FY-luh) Plant type: Perennial Plant size: 12-15 inches tall, 24 inches wide Hardiness: Zone 3 Flower color: Light blue Flower size: 1/4 inch wide Bloom period: May Leaf color: Green, variegated (green/white, green/cream), silver Leaf size: Heart-shaped, up to 8 inches wide Light: Part shade to shade Soil: Moist, well-drained Companion plants: Hostas, ferns, sedges, snakeroot, coral bells Remarks: Great foliage plant for the shade garden. Should have ample moisture and not too much sun—otherwise, on the variegated brunneras, the lighter leaf edges can scorch and turn brown.

Front the fhiltlrsimi l'"i't. cr.N n.NMC.M (if ri:oiu;m. Our promising yoiiiio sirler was horn on , contrast I It is run irnsifuljuict tl,e P’ cefc ^' li S iiC ' , count was furnished by Gen, Oglethorpe. I Oor sister sliiniM in February next, prepare her Centennial festival. It would be an nmus- i in" illus!ration of her sudden magnitude, to tber io their lives, been, of uli* thu l*,bes oijseolte iotcroal, except the recollect.ons tvhicu min, the most keenly susceptible to love i i must crowd upon tho mind, while contempla- their solitude feed* their passion ; when lo.vo I ting the birth place of Washington, is once admitted to their lienrl*' there is nn J “ In 1816, immediately after the ratilicatior countercheck t« its emotions, and no escape i of the Treaty ol peace, Mr. Cuatis repaired ii 1 Friday, Utli February, 1733, and therefore is; .1 plentiful Dinner far | now in her hundredth year, yet though of litis j Colony in 1733. From the New York Mirror. TO FITZ-GBEENE IIALLCCK, KSQ BY THfc LATt JOSEPH n. PIUKP. M. t’. “You damn ine with lain t praise.” Yes*, flint wan my applause ami cold tnv prni.w*. Tunnel soul wan glowing in each poli.-lird liner ; Hi t notih*r euhjecU claim tin? poet’s lavs — A^hfighter glory waits a muse like thine j . J.et nmoroua fools in love-nick men ore pine, J.ct Strangford whimper on in fancied pain, • And leave to*Moore the hacknied rop.* and vine , i 11** thine the tank a higher cr iwn to gain— The envied wreath that decks the patriot’s holy etrmu f j ago amlrnhoupoittl in uppt*nriiurc,Hlie 1ms not | 4 fit Hogs - ,yet reached uhove u fourth of her growth. i ® |(h' 1 | ll «r i'ancl, i Tim following doscrip'ion of ‘her christen- | , i.'imI." (leer, &ic.’ j ing will interest equally,Carolinians and Geur- j tfo|| . M ubo(|od up „„ vvhic |, , icr Centenial Orators might insidt with justifiable pride: Wirh a scanty Dinner for the Slate ill 1S33. •J 1,000 Turkics 3,0(10 'ihils. if Punch, 3,000 lidJs. Beer, Ua. from its excitation. j Woman, whoso love is so much tho crea- | i U re of her imagination, always asks some, j thing of mystery and conjecture in the object oflier affection. It is a luxuty to her to .per- Iplex herself with a ihnusand apprehensions; and tho more restlessly her lover occupies her mind, the more deeply he enthrals it. Tho consciousness of how little individual Yet not in proud triumphal song a In Or martial ode. or.ad sepulchral dirge ; There needs no lay to make our glories known f There needs no song the warrior's son! to urge To iread the hounds of danger's stormy verge ; Columbia siill shall win thchaittu's pri/.o ! Itof lie it thine to biJ her mind emerge ; T.i .trike her harp until its soul ariso Finn 11 lie neglected shade where low in dm it lies! Are iheru nn scenes to touch the poet’s soul ? No leedsof arms to wake the lordly strain ? Shall Hudson’s billows unregarded roll 1 IVhilinarsli's S. ('. (inzrttc, March 31. 1733. j Among others, they ntuy with safety assert FIRST [ilvNF.lt, FIRST SF.IIMON, AND ! tint! she hud surpassed every otto of tho old FltlST IldOF. !thirteen in tho tapidily ol her growth. Penn- Account nfilic progress of tin: first Colony jsvlvoniu, whoso progress during her first ceil- sent to Georgia. j tnrv exceeded that of ull the others, possessed “ We set sail from Gravesend nn Iho 17th ! •** 1790, which was 110 years alter her settle- November, 17:12. in tho ship Artnc, of two'ment, a population of 435,000. Georgia, tie red tons, .John Thomas, master—luting! for* she Ita* completed her first century has Hh» Warren (ought, Montgomery died, in vain ? Shame ! that while ovary mountain, atreuin, nod plain . Hath tlieme fur trutti'a proud voice or fancy's wand, i m the bar ol the No native hard the patriot harp halli*la’en, I miles from llcailforl. But left to minstrel of a foreign at rand I On the 18lh lie went oil shore upon French To aine the beauteous scenes of nature's loveliest i. , , , , ~ , - . , ' land! j Island, and left a guard of eight men upon John’s, being n point of that Island wiiicli nhout one hundred anil thirty pet,-suns, and nr- [reached 516,000. Again, those of the old rived off the bar of Charleston on the 13ilt I thirteen who ara beyond tho Potomac,indulge January following. Mr. Oglethorpe went on j much self-complacency in the delusion that shorn to wait upon the governor; was received j their movement is nil celerity, and that the with great marks of civility and satisfaction ; j .South is sluggish, stationary, and rather acP obtained nn order for Middleton, tins king’s t rancing backwards. Now, so far from this pilot to carry the ship into Port Royal, nnd jbeing the fact, Guorgia lots dislaaccd every for small craft to carry lit" colony from thence jono of them in her increase, except N. \ork, to Snvnnnal), with a promise of further nssis- and her she Inis dearly heal. I he popula- tanco from'the province, lie returned on ! lion of Pennsylvania at present is but sonte- ard the 1 Ilk day, and canto to anchor with- j what more than three limes its amount forty his own vessel to the birth place, having pre pared a stono with a suitable inscription, to bn deposited on the ruins of tho Mansion. Mr C. was accompanied in the execution of this' pious duty by Samuel Lewis, Esq. great neph ew of Washington, and the late Wm. Grymes, Esq. tho son of an officer of the revolution, who hold a command in the body guard. The party landed at Wakefield, bearing in their genius can do to relievo the mass grinds out, j arms tho stone, encircled by tho slar spangled as with a stone, all that is generous in uinbi-! banner, and having gathered together as much tion; and to aspire from iho level of lilb is but I materials from the remains of the ancient to he more graspingly selfish. | mansion, bb would serve for a rude pedestal, Even the dreams of the philantrhopist on- they deposited the stone thereon, with this in- Oli! for a neat on Appalarlin’s brow, That I might Mean tlief'lorion* prospect found ! Wild waving woods and rolling flood* Smooth levplplodca and fields with grain crtihrownM ; High heaving hill* with tufted forest* crown'd. Urnring their proud tops to the heaven’s blue dome ! And cmctald isles like banners green unwound. Seen floating o’»?r the lake, while round them roam blue billowy helms and dancing plumes of foam. 'Tia trno, no fairies haunt our “ verdant mend:*,” No grinning imps deform our blazing hr irfh; Heueath the kelpies’ fangs n«» traveller blued.-*, No gory vampy res taint our holy eurtli, No spectres stalk to frighten harmless mirth, Nor tortured demon howl* amid the gale ; Tair reason checks these monsters in their inith; Yet have we lay oflove and horrid tale, Would dim the manliest cyo anu make tho bravest Where ia the sterile eye that hath not fin'd, Compassion’s dew-drops o'er the sweet .M’Crea 7 Through midnight wilds by savage bandit led , “ Her heart ia sad- her lovo is far away l.lntethat lover waits the promised da v. When tie snail rlanj* his blooming bride again • tihine on, sweet visions! dreams of rapture play l Soon tho cold corse of her he loved In vain fchall blight Ills withering heart und fire his frenzied Homantie Wyoming / could none ho found, ttCailthut roam thy Edcn-bowers among, To wake a nutivo harp’s untutored soumh And give thy tale of woe the voice of nong? Ob ! if description’s cold and nerveless tongue l'rom stranger harp such hallowed strains could call, Mow doubly sweet the dcsv.awt wdd Ivol rung, From one who lingering o'er “ thy ruin’d w all,” Had pluck’d thy mourning (lowers and wept thy time -The Ifurrfn chief escaped from fjemen nigh, His frail bark launches on Niagara’s tides; V Pritle in' his port! defiance in his eye!” Pinging his song of death t[tc warrior glides; Tu vaiti they yell along the river's aides ; In vatu the arrow from it* sheaf is torn ; Calm to his doom the willing \ iclini ridi s, And till ndown the roaring torrent borne, Mocks them with gestures proud, und laughs their rugc to scorn f Arou«e} my friend—let vivid f.»ney*onr; 1.ook with creative eve mi nature’s fare— Ilnl ” pohlinadatnn’d” ill wild Niagara roar, And view in every lichl u fairy race! Spur thy good juirolft to speed apace, And spread a train of nymphs on every rhorr ! Or if thy muse would woo n ruder grace, The Indian’s evil maniloes e.tpf'»ie, And rear the wondrous tale of legendary lore. Away! to Susuuehunr.a's utmost spring** >\ here throned in mnuntuiu mist Aromki reign ’, Slimudiug in lurid clmicls hi» plumetesa wings, And sternly sorrowing o’er Ids tribe’s remains ! lhs was the arm, like comet ore it wanes. That tore the streamy lightning from the shies, And smote the mammoth of the southern plains! Wild with dismay the Creek nftiiglited flies, While in triumphant pride Kencava’s eagles rise. <)i westward far where dark Miami wends, Seek that fair spot as yet to fame unknown, Wlrero when tho vesper clew of heaven descend j, Poll inflate breathes in utility uinching tone ; At times so sadly sweet it seems tlio moan Of Home poor Artel penanced in the rock— Anon a louder hurst—n scream! a groan ! And now amid the tempest’s reeling shock, Gibber, and sluick, und wail, and fiendish laugh, and ; mock. , j Or climb the palisado’s lofty brow.« f Where dark Oinanaa waged tho war of hell, 'Till roused to wrath the mighty apirit rose J And pent tho demons in their primn cell: Full on their bead* the uprooted mountain fell, **- Enclosing all within its horrid womb! Straight from tho teeming earth the waters swell, -And pillar’d rocks arise In c'tceiless gloom. Around the them abode, their lust, eternal tomb. He then*? your lofty lliomm! but ne’er resign Tho smil of song to laud your lady’s ryes; <io kneel a worshipper at nature’s aiinne ! For you her rivers flow. Iter bills arise; For yon Iter fields,fro green and fair Iter skies ; And will yon scorn them nil to pour your tamo And heartiest lays ol forced or fancied sighs ? Still will you wrong the mu**, nor blush for shamo, To'cast away renown and hide your bend from fame! * Come! shake your trammel* off! let fool* rehearse Their love* and raptures in unmeaning chime ; Cram close their ijrudc conceits in maw kish verse, And torture Itacknied thoughts in timeless rhyme: lint thou shall 8oar *" tth>ri«»n* verse subliitio ! With heavenly voice of music, strength, and fire, Waft wide the wonders of thy native clime , With patriot pride each patriot heart inspire. Till Europe’s bards arc .mute before Columbia's lyre. ay, nnd rnrno to anchor with- j wliat more than throe timon Fort Itoyal at about sixteen years ago. that ol’ New York loss than six lirncH, whereas that of Georgia approaches sevenfold its 1 amount in 1790. Another truth, wliirlt a Georgian may he excused in rontemplaiing with satisfaction, may ho specified : it is ihis, that while the “ Old Dominion'’ is yielding In an inexplica ble infatuation which will destroy herself, and is already shaking the foundation of Southern prosperity, this young member of the Ameri can family, cherishes ike spirit, and resolutely adheres to tho institutions of tho I'lantalion Stales. We admire her fidelity. May she ever combine Hie profitable contest of seeing which etui do the other the most good, with her sister und friend, mmands the channel, and is about half way between Beaufort and the river Savannah.— They had orders to prepare lints for the ro- caption of tho colony against they should he there in their passage. From thence ho went to Beaufort town, where ho arrived uliout one o’clock in the morning, and was saluted will) a discharge of all the artillery, and had tho mUv barracks fil led up where the colony landed on tho 20th day, and were in every respect cheerfully as- aisled by Lieut, Walls, Ensign Farrington, nnd lltn other officers of Ins Majesty’s inde pendent company, us also by Mr. Dclnharr, and other gentlemen of tho neighborhood While the Colony refreshed themselves there, Mr. Oglethorpe went up the river, and chose a situation fora town, and entered into it treaty with Temo Chi Chi, the Alien, or chief of the only nations of Indians living nvar lie returned on the 21th day and they cclo braied the ISunday following (viz : 28th Juttu ary, 17*53) nn n datj of thanksgiving for their safe arrival, and it sermon was preached by the Rev. ATr. Jones, (the Rev, Dr. Herbert, who came with tho colony preaching thnt day at Beaufort town.) There was a great rest of tho gentlemen of that neiglibothooj and their families, and a plentiful dinner provided for the colony, and ull that came, by .Mr. Ogle thorpe, being four fat hogs, eight turkeys, be sides fowls, English beef, and other provis ions; a hogshead of punch, a hogshead of beer, and a large quantity of wine; nnd till wus disposed in so regular a manner, that no per son was drunk, nor any disorder happened. On the HOlh, the Colony embarked on board a sloop of seventy tons, nnd tivo pcriuugcrs, and made sail, hnt were forced bv a storm to pul in a place called the l.ook-Out, and to lay there ull night. The next day they arrived at John’s, where they round huts capable to conluin them all, and it plentiful supper of venison. They re-embarked the next day, and jn the nffornuun arrived at the place in tended lor the town. Being arrived on the fir.it o] February 1733, at Iho intended town, before night they erect ed four large tents sufficient to hold all tho people, being one for each tytliing; they land ed their bedding, and other littlo necessaries, and all the people lay ntt tho shorn. The ground encamped upon, is the edgo of tho riv er where tho key is intended to he. Until tho 7tlt was spent in making a cratte and unlading the goods, which done, Mr. Oglethorpe divided tho people, employing part in clearing land for seed, part in beginning the palisade, and the remainder in fulling of trees whero ilia town is to stand. Col, Bull arrived hero with a message from die General Assembly (of South Carolina) to Mr. Oglethorpe, and a letter from his F.xccl- lincy Governor Johnson and the Council, ac-1 /udion Curiosiliet.—The Cherokee Phcp- riix, in a laic issue, gives, in a communication from a correspondent, it curious account of certain mining appearances of an ancient cha racter to ho found in that nation. The writer reports himself to liavo visited Valley River, in search of gold, where from reports which lie had heard, lie felt disposed to visit some cortam location upon the north .side of this river, in which those appearances ore rnet. The ridge in which they appear, is covered with Indian tumuli, the skeletons •nly partially conccnlcd by loose rocks from the eye. In the immediate m ighhorhond,large bodies of curt It have been thrown, evidently, says our visitor, for the purposes of mining, and ill search of some metal, lit supputt of • his, n well of antique construction makes its appearance near thirty Icet in depth—hern too through tho ridge ur hill, runs a canal, six or eight feet deep, about ten wide, utd thirty vurds long. Two or three hundred yards dis tunt and the mining evidences, broken by the numerous t mult, re appear. Here we have a pit of considerable depth; calculated to men sure 30 feet in diameter. The earth is thrown up around it, in such a manner und quantity, as proves it to havo been tho result of human labor. At a little distance, tho remnins of a furnace ore found, convenient to a small foun tain ul the head of n rnvino; nnd supposed to havo been erected for the purpose of separat ing the gold or silver or less valuable metals Irout Iho rocks. Tltoso works are all antique in their nppearunec, and resemble nothing of their supposed nature, employed in modern times. 'Flic mid,tinn of tho natives uniformly agree, that about one hundred yenrs ago. n company of white people came over the great waters in pursuit of gold and silver ; and that they spent several months nt the above named places.’ An old Indian who resided'within a low miles of the place, says that he is one hundred yours old; nnd that whon he was a very little hov, it large company of white men manufactured lead and gave to the inhabitants. This company it is stated took their departure, pruhahly finding their labors unproductive,anti huvo been traced, snys tho.writer, back to Eli ropo from whence nnd whom letters in rein tion to these relies, have been received. He docs not tell us flom what quarter of Europe they came, or to what quarter they went. The article is devoted to a good deal of tho local politics of tlm Cherokee nation us it now ex ists; und the preceding statements have been sifted from it at intervals, hero and there.— From the Seme. Tlic MERIDIAN OF UFP„ Th« sparkling jov« that bubbled on tho sirtsm Ot iftrly days, have vanished as a dream. ThelaugtiiULr hoy, and ardent youth,give placo “it to sober manhood's thoughtful lace: The tile, t' at secned one joyous day of-piing, VVithbu ivan' spirits, ever tin the wine, Vroin idle flights has been compelled to bow— The tl -wers that atrew’d y,.•« path aie faded now. r . Thus I 'I iW tn die, that we may souner soar To Ir p, s ab.it" ihis earth, not 'sought before. f , No ■. while th" noon,of lii'« may give ns nine, Krc evening's shadows nn our until decline; Thu wlieu our win haa set, and hie is o'er, Aa endless morn ooy nte, and vain regrets no mete. ■ 1 ' i * quninting him that the two Houses, upon a conference, luid ugrecd to give twenty barrels of Rice, and n hundred head of Cattle, besides Hogs, to the Trustees; .nnd tliul they had roinnmmlcd a detachment of the /fniigera, (which nro horse kept in the pay of Iho Pro vince fur the scouring the frontiers) and tlic Scout Rout, (which is nn armed barque em ployed for the snino purpo.su by water) to at tend him, and take his orders. Col. Bull brought with him four of his ne groes who wero sawyers, to assist the Colotiv and also brought provisions for them, being resolved ro pul the trust to no expense, nnd by this nteatia to bestow his beneluctioii in j tho most noble and useful rnnnner. On the Off, day, Mr. Oglethorpe and Col, Bull marked out the square, the streets, nmi 40 lots fur houses fur the town; und the first house which was ordered tu he mndo of clapboards, was be gun on that day. Tho Town lies on the south side of the riv er. Satnnnah. upon n Hut on Iho top of a hill, and 00 yards of it is reserved between it and the Key. The river washes the foot of tho hill, which stretches along the side of it about u mile, und forms a terrace forty feet perpen dicular above high water. From the Ivey, looking eastward, you innv discover the river a* far as tho islands in tho sea; nnd westward, ono may sen it wind thro’ the woods above six mile*. . The river is a ihnusand feet wide, the wa ter fresh, and deep enough for sloops of 70 Ii may be noted the' the enthusiasts oi tons, to come up closo to the sido of tho Key. learning and revery h- e, ct er.o lima or nno- Sayfrtgj from Eugene Aram.—It has been observed, that wherever you see a flower in a cottage garden, or u birdcage at iho window, you may feel sure that tho cottagers are bet ter nnd wiser than thoir neighbours. The colours of our existence were doomed before our birth—our sorrows and our crimes ; millions of ages hack, when this henry earth was peopled by other kinds, yea! ere ils atoms had formed one layer of its present soil, the cteinal and the nll-seoing Ruler ol iho universe, had hero lived the moment of our birth and the limits of our career. “ It is a hard life wo bookmen lend. Our enjoyments nro few and calm ; our labour constant. Wo grow old before our time ; wo wither up ; the sap of youth shrinks from our veins; there is mi bound in our step ; itis’n bitter life—a bitter life—a joyless life. I would I had never commenced it. And i/et llte harsh world scowls upon us : our nerves aro broken, and they wonder wo are queru lous ; our blood curdles, and they ask whv wc are not guy ; our brain grows dizzylnid in distinct, and, shrugging thetv shoulders, they whisper their neighbours the' wo arc mad " ly tend towards equality ; and whero is equali ty to be found but in tho state of tho savage ? No : I thought otherwise once : hut I now re gard the vast Inznr-houso around us without Hope of relief: Death is the solo physician !” “ How poor, even in this beautiful world, with the warm sun and fresh air about us, that alone ure sufficient to make us glad, would ho life, if we could not mako the hap piness of others I" Youth, beauty, potnp, what are these, in point of attraction, to a woman’s heart, when compared to eloquence!—the magic of the tongue is the most dangerous of all spells! There is a curtain charm about greut supe riority of intellect, that winds into deep affec tions, which a much more constant and oven amiability of manners in lesser men,often fails A Socrates may claim it to-day—a Napo leon to-morrow ; nav, a brigand chief, illus trious in the circle in which he lives, may cull it forth no less powerfully than the generous failings of u Byron, or the sublime excellence of the greater Milton. " This, to my mind,” said Arum at length, " is Iho most pleasing landscape ill the whole country- Observe the bashful water stealing awuy among the woodlands. Methinks the wave is endowed with an instinetivo wisdom, that ii situiis the world ” Ihe sterner powers that wo arouse within us to combat a- passion that can no longer bo j worthily indulged are never afterwards wholly] alluycd. Like the allies which a nation sum mons to its bosom to defend it front its foes, they expel the enemy only to find a sottlemcnl In t ii pure heart of a girl loving lor Ihe first time, I ve is for more ecstatic than in man, inasmuch us it is unlevered by desire—love then and there makes tlic only state of human existence which is at once capable of calmness Menial activity and moral quietude are tho two states which,were they perfected and uni ted, would constitute perfect happiness. It is sue It a union which constitutes ull we imagine of heaven, or conceive of the majestic felicity of a God! We do indeed cleave iho vast heaven of Truth with a weak und crippled wing : and often wo uro appalled in our way by a dread sense of ihe immensity around its, und of Iho inadequacy ol our own strength.” ‘ As you see the spark fly upward,—some times not fulling tu the earth till it lie dark and quenched,—thus soars, whither it reeks not,-so that the direction tm above, the lumi nous spirit of him who aspires to Truth ; nor will it hack to tho vtlo and heavy clay from which it sprang, until the light which boro it upward be no mori ” The susceptibilities that wo create or re fine by the pursuit of one object, weaken our general reason ; and I ntay compare with some justice Ihe powers of the mind to the faculties ol the body, m which squinting is occasioned by an inequality of strength in tho eyes, nnd discordance of voice by tho samo inequality in There are seasons, when wo aro suddenly called from ourselves, by the remembrances ol early childhood : something touches tho electric chum, and, lo ! a host of shadowy null sweet recollections steal upon us. VVe are born ogam und live anew. As tho sccrot pugo in which tiie characters once written seem for ever effaced, but which, if breathed upon, gives them ugnin into view ; so the memory can re vive the images invisible for years; but while wo gazo, the breuth recedes from the surface, und all one moment so vivid, with Iho next moment has become once more a blank ! 11 W hat is tho world which wc ransack, but a stupendous cknriiel-houso I Every thing thut wo deem most lovely, ask its origin— Decay ! When wo rifle Mature, nnd collect wisdom, nro wo not like tho hags of old, cul ling simples from Iho rank grave, and extract ing sorceries from the rotting bones of tho dead ? Every thing around us is fathered by corruption, fattened by corruprion, nnd into corruption returns at last. .Corruption is at once the womb and grave of nature, and the very beauty on which we gaze nnd hang,— the cloud, und tree, and Ihe swarming waters, —all are one vast panorama of death I" scription “ Here the 22d of February, 1732, Washington was born.” Tho duty performed, the party rc-umbarked, and, hoisting their co tors, fired a salute from the vessel, thus com plcting the interesting, nnd surely not unirr. pressive ceremonial, of placing the first stone of tlie monument.” Too Drunk for a Bargain.—Tom tlobb: lived at a period when there wero no temper ance societies, or ho might have been a sober rnan. As it was, Tom was sadly addicted to the bottle, and was six days in the week most gloriously drunk by the timo he had dined, so that he was unfit for business till the next morning. Tom was well aware of his infirmi ty, and would never suffer himself to make e. bargain, while in his cups. One afternoon, a stranger called upon Tom for tho purpose of purchasing a fine horse, of which ho was tho owner. The gentleman in troduced himself as Mr. Jcremtah Johnson, and announced his business. “ Mr. Jeremiah Johnson,” said Tom loek- ing him full in the faco, “ you have a notion after my hor-hor horse, have you “ I havo,” replied Johnson. “ You are perfectly responsible, Mr. John son, nro you I” 11 I am.” “ And cun pay a pret-pretty good round pri- “ I can.” “ Well, Mr. Jeremiah Johnson, if you will call to-morrow morning at nino o’clock, I’ll tell you what I’ll toko for him,—I am too— too drunk this afternoon to make a bargain.- A", Y- Cons. A Matrimonial Tale.—A fiddler and his wife, who rubbed through life ns most couples usually do—somolimas good friends, at other times not quite so well—happoned one duy to havo a dispute, which was conducted with be coming spirit on both sides. The wife was sure to be right, and the husband was resolved to havo his own way. What was to be done in such a case l The quarrel grew worse bv their explanations, and at last their fury rnsc *.o such a pitch, that each made a vow never to sleep in the samo bed with the other for tho future. This was the most rash vow that could he imagined ; for they were siill friends, nt bottom, and besides, they had hut one bed in the house. However, resolved they wero to go through with it, and as thoy had not se parate hods, at night the fiddle caso was laid between them; in order to make a separation. In this manner thoy continued three weeks- ■ every night Ihe fiddle case being placed ns t. harrier to separate them. By this time, how ever, each repented of their voty—their re sentment was at a:t end, and their love began to return. They both wished tho fiddlu case away, but eqclt had too much spirit to sumbit. Ono night, however, as they were built lying awake, with the detested fiddle case between thorn, tho huahund happened to sneeze. To this the wife, us usual in such cases, hid, Dear bless hint!—Aye, but, replies tho husband, “ do you say that from your heart, Jenny 1” “ Indeed I do, my love, Nicholas.” “ If so,” said tho husband, “ I fancy wo might as well remove the liddlo case.” Brunswick Jelly Cetkc.—Stir together. ItaU a pound of powdered white sugar, and half a pound of fresh butter, till -perfectly light.— Beat tlireo eggs till very thick and smooth, omitting tho whites. Sift three quarters of n p'ound nf flour and pour it into the beaten eggr and butter and sugar. Add a tea-spoonful ot mixed spico (nutmeg, mace, and cinnamon and halfu glass of roso-water. Stir the wholo very well, and then lay it on your paste-board, which must first he sprinkled with flour. It will he a soft dough ; hut if you find it so moist ns to ho umnanngcnblo, thrqw on a littlo more flour. Spread the dough into a sheet about halt an inch thick, and cut it out i:t round cakes with (lie edge of a tumbler.* Lay them in bullcrcd pans and bako them about ftvo or six minutes. When they aro cold spread over, tho surface of each cake a liquor of fruit-jelly or marnteladc. Beat iho white of three or four eggs till it stands alone. Tiietl heat into it by dogrecs a sufficiency of powder ed loaf-sugar to make it as thick as icing.— h lavor it with a few drops of strong essence of lomon, and with a spoon heap it up on each cake, making it high in the centre. Put tho cakes into a coal oven, nnd ns soon us iho tops aro eolorod of a pale brown, tako them out. These cakes aro delicious. Washington's Birlli Place.—At a titno when all that relates to Washington attracts so much attention, and whon his tomb is made the subject of n Nation’s anxiety, a notico of the Birth Place of tho Father of his Country will not be deemed inappropriate. We have a noto front Mr. Guslis, of Arlington, which contains the memoranda of sumo incidents re- j Pumpkin Pi c.—Cut up the half of a smafl lalive to this subject which have not beforoj dark colored pumpkin, and stew it till dry. been published.—Alex. Gat. II hen ruk it through a cullender and set it Gen. Washington was horn on a Plantation ] away to cool, ndding to it sugar and snlt to ii..j w..i—r. n i.. -e v-. yotir tasto, and a largo spoonful of ginger or beaten cinaa ‘.on. Having boiled a quart of rich milk, Set that also nway to get cold. Bent four eggs till very light, and mix them with the milk und stewed pumpkin, a little at a lime. This quantity of the mixture is sufficient for two pies which must bo without lids. Cream if you can procure it,ia for this rurpose prefer able to milk. called Wakefield, now the properly of John Gray, Esq. of Travellers Rest, lying on Pope’s Creek, in Westmoreland county, (Va.) The house in winch he first saw the light was about 300 yards from the Crock, half a mile trout its enlranro into the Potomac. The mansion ha* long since fallen to ruins. Some ■it the trees of “ olden day*,” arc yet stand ing nroeud ti. Y*'"ro i* cotbinpthe-n at pre- r. \ •'.

Succulent with clump-forming habit. Basal rosettes of gray-green to brown, leaves have bronze tubercles. Yellow flowers bloom late fall.Important Info : Grow in desert garden in warm climates or in greenhouse where not hardy. Google Plant Images: click here! Size:Height: 0 ft. to 0.08 ft. Width: 0 ft. to 0.17 ft. Plant Category:cacti and other succulents, Plant Characteristics:low maintenance, Foliage Characteristics:small leaves, Tolerances:drought, heat & humidity, Bloomtime Range: Late Fall to Late Fall USDA Hardiness Zone:11 to 11 AHS Heat Zone:Not defined for this plant Light Range:Full Sun to Full Sun pH Range:7.5 to 8.5 Soil Range:Sand to Mostly Sand Water Range:Dry to Dry FertilizingHow-to : Fertilization for Established Plants Established plants can benefit from fertilization. Take a visual inventory of your landscape. Trees need to be fertilized every few years. Shrubs and other plants in the landscape can be fertilized yearly. A soil test can determine existing nutrient levels in the soil. If one or more nutrients is low, a specific instead of an all-purpose fertilizer may be required. Fertilizers that are high in N, nitrogen, will promote green leafy growth. Excess nitrogen in the soil can cause excessive vegetative growth on plants at the expense of flower bud development. It is best to avoid fertilizing late in the growing season. Applications made at that time can force lush, vegetative growth that will not have a chance to harden off before the onset of cold weather. How-to : Fertilization for Annuals and Perennials Annuals and perennials may be fertilized using: 1.water-soluble, quick release fertilizers; 2. temperature controlled slow-release fertilizers; or 3. organic fertilizers such as fish emulsion. Water soluble fertilizers are generally used every two weeks during the growing season or per label instructions. Controlled, slow-release fertilizers are worked into the soil ususally only once during the growing season or per label directions. For organic fertilizers such as fish emulsion, follow label directions as they may vary per product. LightConditions : Light Conditions Unless a site is completely exposed, light conditions will change during the day and even during the year. The northern and eastern sides of a house receive the least amount of light, with the northern exposure being the shadiest. The western and southern sides of a house receive the most light and are considered the hottest exposures due to intense afternoon sun. You will notice that sun and shade patterns change during the day. The western side of a house may even be shady due to shadows cast by large trees or a structure from an adjacent property. If you have just bought a new home or just beginning to garden in your older home, take time to map sun and shade throughout the day. You will get a more accurate feel for your site's true light conditions. Conditions : Light and Plant Selection For best plant performance, it is desirable to match the correct plant with the available light conditions. Right plant, right place! Plants which do not receive sufficient light may become pale in color, have fewer leaves and a "leggy" stretched-out appearance. Also expect plants to grow slower and have fewer blooms when light is less than desirable. It is possible to provide supplemental lighting for indoor plants with lamps. Plants can also receive too much light. If a shade loving plant is exposed to direct sun, it may wilt and/or cause leaves to be sunburned or otherwise damaged. Conditions : Full Sun Full Sun is defined as exposure to more than 6 hours of continuous, direct sun per day. WateringProblems : Waterlogged Soil and Solutions Waterlogged soil occurs when more water is added to soil than can drain out in a reasonable amount of time. This can be a severe problem where water tables are high or soils are compacted. Lack of air space in waterlogged soil makes it almost impossible for soil to drain. Few plants, except for bog plants, can tolerate these conditions. Drainage must be improved if you are not satisfied with bog gardening. Over-watered plants have the same wilted leaves as under-watered plants. Fungi such as Phytophthora and Pythium affect vascular systems, which cause wilt. If the problem is only on the surface, it maybe diverted to a drainage ditch. If drainage is poor where water table is high, install an underground drainage system. You should contact a contractor for this. If underground drains already exist, check to see if they are blocked. French drains are another option. French drains are ditches that have been filled with gravel. It is okay to plant sod on top of them. More obtrusive, but a good solution where looks aren't as important, think of the French drain as a ditch filled with gravel. Ditches should be 3 to 4 feet deep and have sloping sides. A soakway is a gravel filled pit where water is diverted to via underground pipes. This works well on sites that have compacted soil. Your soakway should be about 6'wide and deep and filled with gravel or crushed stone, topped with sand and sodded or seeded. Keep in mind that it is illegal to divert water onto other people's property. If you do not feel that you can implement a workable solution on your own, call a contractor. Tools : Watering Aides No gardener depends 100% on natural rainfall. Even the most water conscious garden appreciates the proper hose, watering can or wand. - Watering Cans: Whether you choose plastic of galvanized makes no difference, but do look for generous capacity and a design that is balanced when filled with water. A 2 gallon can (which holds 18 lbs. of water) is preferred by most gardeners and is best suited for outdoor use. Indoor cans should be relatively smaller with narrower spouts and roses (the filter head). - Watering Hose: When purchasing a hose, look for one that is double-walled, as it will resist kinking. Quick coupler links are nice to have on ends of hoses to make altering length fast. To extend the life of your hose, keep it wound around a reel and stored in a shady area. Prior to winter freezes, drain hose. - Sprayers: Are commonly thought of as devices for applying chemicals, but can really be a step saver for watering houseplants or small pots of annuals rather that dragging out a hose or making numerous trips with a watering can. The backpack sprayer is best suited for this. Take care not to use any kind of chemical in tanks used for watering! - Sprinklers: Attached to the ends of garden hoses, these act as an economical irrigation system. Standing Spike Sprinklers are usually intended for lawns and deliver water in a circular pattern. Rotating Sprinklers deliver a circle of water and are perfect for lawns, shrubs and flower beds. Pulse-jet sprinklers cover large areas of ground in a pulsating, circular pattern. The head usually sits up on a tall stem, except for when watering lawns. Oscillating sprinklers are best for watering at ground level in a rectangular pattern. Conditions : Dry Dry is defined as an area that regularly receives water, but is fast draining. This results in a soil that is often dry to a depth of 18 inches. Conditions : Dry Plants Dry plants do not tolerate water logged soils and require very little water. Many cacti and succulents fall into this group. Water only when soil becomes completely dry. When watering, do so slowly for a long period of time so that topsoil does not wash away and so that soil has ample time to become moist enough to accept water. It is much better to water for a long time and less frequently allowing soil to dry out completely between waterings. PlantingHow-to : Preparing Garden Beds Use a soil testing kit to determine the acidity or alkalinity of the soil before beginning any garden bed preparation. This will help you determine which plants are best suited for your site. Check soil drainage and correct drainage where standing water remains. Clear weeds and debris from planting areas and continue to remove weeds as soon as they come up. A week to 10 days before planting, add 2 to 4 inches of aged manure or compost and work into the planting site to improve fertility and increase water retention and drainage. If soil composition is weak, a layer of topsoil should be considered as well. No matter if your soil is sand or clay, it can be improved by adding the same thing: organic matter. The more, the better; work deep into the soil. Prepare beds to an 18 inch deep for perennials. This will seem like a tremendous amount of work now, but will greatly pay off later. Besides, this is not something that is easily done later, once plants have been established. How-to : Pinching and Thinning Perennials Once you plant a perennial, it does not mean that you will enjoy years of maintenance-free gardening. Perennials need to be cared for just like any other plant. One thing that distinguishes perennials is that they tend to be active growers that have to be thinned out occasionally or they will loose vigor. As perennials establish, it is important to prune them back and thin them out occasionally. This will prevent them from completely taking over an area to the exclusion of other plants, and also will increase air circulation thereby reducing the incidence of diseases like botrytis and powdery mildew. Many species also flower abundantly and produce ample seed. As blooms fade it is advisable to deadhead your plant; that is, to remove spent flowers before they form seed. This will prevent your plants from seeding all over the garden and will conserve the considerable energy it takes the plant to produce seed. As perennials mature, they may form a dense root mass that eventually leads to a less vigorous plant. It is advisable to occasionally thin out a stand of such perennials. By dividing the root system, you can make new plants to plant in another area of the garden or give away. Also root pruning will stimulate new growth and rejuvenate the plant. Most perennials may be successfully divided in either spring or fall. Do a little homework; some perennials do have a preference. How-to : Preparing Containers Containers are excellent when used as an ornamental feature, a planting option when there is little or no soil to plant in, or for plants that require a soil type not found in the garden or when soil drainage in the garden is inferior. If growing more than one plant in a container, make sure that all have similar cultural requirements. Choose a container that is deep and large enough to allow root development and growth as well as proportional balance between the fully developed plant and the container. Plant large containers in the place you intend them to stay. All containers should have drainage holes. A mesh screen, broken clay pot pieces(crock) or a paper coffee filter placed over the hole will keep soil from washing out. The potting soil you select should be an appropriate mix for the plants you have chosen. Quality soils (or soil-less medias) absorb moisture readily and evenly when wet. If water runs off soil upon initial wetting, this is an indicator that your soil may not be as good as you think. Prior to filling a container with soil, wet potting soil in the bag or place in a tub or wheelbarrow so that it is evenly moist. Fill container about halfway full or to a level that will allow plants, when planted, to be just below the rim of the pot. Rootballs should be level with soil line when project is complete. Water well. How-to : Planting Perennials Determine appropriate perennials for your garden by considering sun and shade through the day, exposure, water requirements, climate, soil makeup, seasonal color desired, and position of other garden plants and trees. The best times to plant are spring and fall, when soil is workable and out of danger of frost. Fall plantings have the advantage that roots can develop and not have to compete with developing top growth as in the spring. Spring is more desirable for perennials that dislike wet conditions or for colder areas, allowing full establishment before first winter. Planting in summer or winter is not advisable for most plants, unless planting a more established sized plant. To plant container-grown plants: Prepare planting holes with appropriate depth and space between. Water the plant thoroughly and let the excess water drain before carefully removing from the container. Carefully loosen the root ball and place the plant in the hole, working soil around the roots as you fill. If the plant is extremely root bound, separate roots with fingers. A few slits made with a pocket knife are okay, but should be kept to a minimum. Continue filling in soil and water thoroughly, protecting from direct sun until stable. To plant bare-root plants: Plant as soon as possible after purchase. Prepare suitable planting holes, spread roots and work soil among roots as you fill in. Water well and protect from direct sun until stable. To plant seedlings: A number of perennials produce self-sown seedlings that can be transplanted. You may also start your own seedling bed for transplanting. Prepare suitable planting holes, spacing appropriately for plant development. Gently lift the seedling and as much surrounding soil as possible with your garden trowel, and replant it immediately, firming soil with fingertips and water well. Shade from direct sun and water regularly until stable. ProblemsPest : Aphids Aphids are small, soft-bodied, slow-moving insects that suck fluids from plants. Aphids come in many colors, ranging from green to brown to black, and they may have wings. They attack a wide range of plant species causing stunting, deformed leaves and buds. They can transmit harmful plant viruses with their piercing/sucking mouthparts. Aphids, generally, are merely a nuisance, since it takes many of them to cause serious plant damage. However aphids do produce a sweet substance called honeydew (coveted by ants) which can lead to an unattractive black surface growth called sooty mold. Aphids can increase quickly in numbers and each female can produce up to 250 live nymphs in the course of a month without mating. Aphids often appear when the environment changes - spring & fall. They're often massed at the tips of branches feeding on succulent tissue. Aphids are attracted to the color yellow and will often hitchhike on yellow clothing. Prevention and Control: Keep weeds to an absolute minimum, especially around desirable plants. On edibles, wash off infected area of plant. Lady bugs and lacewings will feed on aphids in the garden. There are various products - organic and inorganic - that can be used to control aphids. Seek the recommendation of a professional and follow all label procedures to a tee. MiscellaneousGlossary : Low Maintenance Low maintenance does not mean no maintenance. It does mean that once a plant is established, very little needs to be done in the way of water, fertilizing, pruning, or treatment in order for the plant to remain healthy and attractive. A well-designed garden, which takes your lifestyle into consideration, can greatly reduce maintenance. Glossary : Sand Sand in the purest sense, has no organic matter, a large particle size between 1.0 - 2.0 mm, and drains rapidly, with no water holding capacity. White to light gray in color. Does not form a ball when squeezed in hand, unless damp or wet, easily falls apart. Glossary : Mostly Sand Mostly Sand is soil that: drains rapidly, has some organic matter, and a particle size between .50 - 1.0 mm. Light gray to gray in color. Rarely forms a ball when squeezed in the hand unless damp or wet. Glossary : Cacti and Succulents Cacti and Succulents are considered to be one of the most specialized groups of plants that exists. Everything about their form, roots and lack of leaves is aimed towards conserving water. Some cacti and succulent roots are shallow, barely beneath the soils surface, others deeply penetrating. Glossary : Herbaceous Herbaceous refers to a non-woody plant that dies back at the end of its growing season, generally after frost or during the fall of the year. The rootstock of perennials will overwinter, providing the plant is hardy in that area, and resume growth in the spring. Glossary : Perennial Perennial: traditionally a non-woody plant that lives for two or more growing seasons. Glossary : pH pH, means the potential of Hydrogen, is the measure of alkalinity or acidity. In horticulture, pH refers to the pH of soil. The scale measures from 0, most acid, to 14, most alkaline. Seven is neutral. Most plants prefer a range between 5.5 and about 6.7, an acid range, but there are plenty of other plants that like soil more alkaline, or above 7. A pH of 7 is where the plant can most easily absorb the most nutrients in the soil. Some plants prefer more or less of certain nutrients, and therefore do better at a certain pH. Glossary : Soil Types A soil type is defined by granule size, drainage, and amount of organic material in the soil. The three main soil types are sand, loam and clay. Sand has the largest particle size, no organic matter, little to no fertility, and drains rapidly. Clay, at the opposite end of the spectrum, has the smallest particle size, can be rich in organic matter, fertility and moisture, but is often unworkable because particles are held together too tightly, resulting in poor drainage when wet, or is brick-like when dry. The optimum soil type is loam, which is the happy median between sand and clay: It is high in organic matter, nutrient-rich, and has the perfect water holding capacity. You will often hear loam referred to as a sandy loam (having more sand, yet still plenty of organic matter) or a clay loam (heavier on the clay, yet workable with good drainage.) The addition of organic matter to either sand or clay will result in a loamy soil. Still not sure if your soil is a sand, clay, or loam? Try this simple test. Squeeze a handfull of slightly moist, not wet, soil in your hand. If it forms a tight ball and does not fall apart when gently tapped with a finger, your soil is more than likely clay. If soil does not form a ball or crumbles before it is tapped, it is sand to very sandy loam. If soil forms a ball, then crumbles readily when lightly tapped, it's a loam. Several quick, light taps could mean a clay loam. Glossary : Tolerant Tolerant refers to a plant's ability to tolerate exposure to an external condition(s). It does not mean that the plant thrives or prefers this situation, but is able to adapt and continue its life cycle. Glossary : Drought Tolerant Very few plants, except for those naturally found in desert situations, can tolerate arid soils, but there are plants that seem to be more drought tolerant than others. Plants that are drought tolerant still require moisture, so don't think that they can go for extended period without any water. Drought tolerant plants are often deep rooted, have waxy or thick leaves that conserve water, or leaf structures that close to minimize transpiration. All plants in droughty situations benefit from an occasional deep watering and a 2-3 inch thick layer of mulch. Drought tolerant plants are the backbone of xeriphytic landscaping. Glossary : Fertilize Fertilize just before new growth begins with a complete fertilizer.

Game and lean meats are making a come-back, hundreds of years later. Current knowledge about the effects of food on health is motivating people to look back at meats that were available long before the modern industrialization of agriculture. Cooking and eating these meats can be a very enjoyable and rewarding experience to both body and pallet, if a few considerations are taken during preparation. Due to the very low fat content of lean meats, they must be cooked with extra care to avoid overcooking that can result in dry, tough and tasteless meals. There are three main guidelines to follow in order to achieve the best results: Low & Slow cooking methods and temperatures, close monitoring of internal temperature of meat, and steps to take for maximum retention of moisture within the cooked meat. Low and Slow are the key cooking principles with lean meats. Reaching the same internal temperature for conventional meats is important, but it should take a bit longer to get there. Grilling – Gas: Keep low to medium flame. Grilling – Coals: Raise rack up or heat tray down a notch. Oven: 275-300°F setting is common for lean and game meats. Pan: Use a lid to retain moisture and keep flame low. Slow Cooker: Low setting for long cook and liquid moisture. Always use a Meat Thermometer. This is the best investment you can make if you care about your dining experience. Any meat thermometer will work. There are many inexpensive options that can be purchased at any grocery store. The best meat thermometer is the electronic instant read with digital display that provides a cable to allow the display to sit outside your oven or grill while cooking. You can even set the display to notify you when the desired internal temperature is reached. Always remember that meats continue to cook after you have removed the heat source. Count on about 5 more degrees Fahrenheit on average. This means that you should remove the meat from the oven, grill or stove when the internal temperature of the meat is at your target, less 5 degrees. It is always best to let the meat sit for a couple minutes on the cutting board with the meat thermometer still in position and continued monitoring. The time it takes for the meat to arrive at the target temperature also allows the juices of the meat to travel back into the outer surface layers for a uniformly moist final product. Recommended Internal Meat Temperatures Since game and lean meats have little to no intramuscular fat (marbling), these meats can very quickly and easily dry out if steps are not take to ensure that juices are retained. Moisture Retention can be achieved many ways using the following variety of cooking methods.

so what is Herbal Energetics ? In many of the individual medicinal plant profiles on this blog I often include a small section on the plant energetics. So exactly what is herbal energetics ? Well, at the very basic level, it is how to best match a herb or selection of herbs to an individual patient rather than solely looking at the disease state. Putting this in very simple terms. Lets make up a person called Joe Blog. Joe has painful joints. He is always cold. Joe never leaves the house without a jacket or warm layer, even in summer. He prefers summer and hates the winter. Joe needs warming herbs. He needs spices such as black pepper, ginger or even chilli to warm up those cold joints. Our second made up person is Joan Blog. Joan also has painful joints. She likes the cool, fresh winter. Joan switches off the central heating after Joe has switched it on. She prefers the bedroom window open at night. Her painful joints are hot to touch and she describes them as burning. She needs cooler herbs like willow bark and comfrey. Whether a person is warm or cold, dry or moist is part of their constitution. Their vitality, strengthen and very nature are all important in correct herb selection. Equally the energy of the herbs chosen is important. In the example above black pepper and ginger are warming and chillies especially so! There are several constitutional frameworks recognised worldwide. You may have heard of humoral medicine, Ayurvedic medicine or traditional Chinese medicine. They all have similarities and, of course, differences. As a student herbalist we undertook a module on each of these three systems. We were very fortunate to have three incredible teachers. All medical herbalists and all experts in their chosen system. The following is a brief description of each of these. Relates to the four bodily humors – phlegm, black bile, blood and yellow bile. Phlegmatic constitution is moist and cold whereas Melancholic is dry and cold. Sanguine is moist and warm and Choleric dry and warm. Sanguine relates to Air, Melancholic is Earth, Choleric is Fire and Phlegmatic naturally, is water. An individual may predominate in one constitution, although they may have elements of others. This system is of Greek origin. It is the basis of Unani Medicine. Often astrological influences are incorporated. If we look again at Joan Blog above Salix alba (willow bark) is a herb of the moon. Where does it grow? Frequently found growing by the water. Willow bark is cool and moist. The London herbalist Nicholas Culpeper followed this method. I have a personal preference for humoral medicine. Whereas humoral medicine has four constitutions, Ayurvedic looks at three doshas and most importantly your prakruti. The three doshas are Pitta, Kapha and Vata. Your prakruti is the balance of these three doshas when you were born into the world. This system is of Asian origin, popular in India. There are similarities with both humoral medicine and TCM. The Pitta constitution is warm, Vata is cold and dry and Kapha is moist. If we look at ginger, black pepper and chilli, mentioned above for Joe, in Ayurvedic medicine they all reduce Vata and Kapha and increase Pitta. Furthermore, if we incorporate preparation in more detail you can enhance specific qualities. For example dry ginger is hotter and drier than fresh ginger. Going back to Joe. If he is slightly more Kapha than Vata and has fluid accumulation in the joints dried ginger would be preferred. However, if Joe is more Vata than Kapha, perhaps with dry scaling skin around the painful joints, he would fair better with fresh ginger root. Ayurveda is probably the most popular method. Of the three here, I believe it is possibly the more straightforward and easiest to grasp. Traditional Chinese Medicine TCM has a wider range of ‘constitutions’. Everyone has heard of Yin and Yang. Yin is cold whereas Yang is warm. A Yin deficient person tends to prefer cold drinks, often complains of warm hands or feet. They are uncomfortable in a hot and dry environment. They don’t have enough cold. The menopause is often considered Yin deficient. I mention Yin deficiency in the red clover profile. The Yang deficient person has a dislike for wind and cold. They have cold hands and feet. They don’t have enough warm. There are many more terms in TCM such as Qi stagnation and Qi deficient. Diseased states also have descriptions and may be described as due to wind heat or kidney Qi stagnation. This method is naturally of Chinese origin. Although I find TCM fascinating it is the one I find most difficult to understand. I find it quite a complex system. So what is herbal energetics ? Often, I feel, we are bogged down by science. While it is interesting to know salicin, a constituent of willow bark, is pain relieving no individual constituent within a plant can give the full picture or true nature of that plant. The above is simply a basic guideline in answer to so what is herbal energetics. If you are interested in learning a little more please do contact me. If this subject is of particular interest I offer a half day course looking at herbal energetics in a little more detail. Please feel free to contact me for further information.

If you’re making an attempt to determine the reason for a leak, but the issue is not apparent, it’s best to take a look at the shingles within the space very intently. If they are nailed down incorrectly, aren’t safe or are even simply barely cracked, they could be the reason for the leak. Once you set up a steel roof on your property, be sure gathered snow will not slide off over a doorway. You or a visitor might be surprised when a big clump of snow slips off the roof onto your head. Use special crosswise items to direct the snow off to either aspect as a substitute. Do not ask your roofer to work on your gutters. This isn’t their area of expertise and they are prone to mess up. Due to this fact, simply concentrate on having them do your roof, and in case your gutters need to be replaced as a result, find somebody to do that job that specializes in it. If in case you have a contractor coming to remove your previous roof, make sure to minimize the grass beforehand. It will will let you have an easier time finding nails that fall on the ground so you can pick them up later. Even if your contractor has a nail finder, it will work higher with clipped grass. Put money into the best high quality roofing tiles your cash can purchase. This is especially necessary if you’re residing in the house you might be transforming. The perfect roofing supplies in your home rely upon the local weather of your location, so be sure to research the most effective roofing tiles on your climate. Only ever rent a roofer who has a license and is absolutely insured for the job. If anything happens whereas they’re working, be it a worker who falls off the roof and is injured or a employee who falls by your roof and destroys your valuables, you may be happy you held out for the precise company! They are not a must have, but the distinction is noticeable. Do not discuss to only one roofer. Your co-employee might have raved over a contractor, and you will have been provided an incredible deal, however that does not imply you shouldn’t get multiple estimates. Encourage multiple contractors to place in bids for the job. When people are competing for the work, you are going to get better provides. To guard the integrity of your roof, clear the gutters recurrently. Many roof problems, reminiscent of leaking, are brought on by again-ups in the gutter system. Having a clogged gutter means that rain and snow can not adequately drain and that places an additional burden on your roofing materials. Purchase tools to make cleaning the gutters faster and easier on you. Control your roof’s coloration. For those who spot streaks, this could mean that your roof is infested with algae or mildew. Your roof can recuperate if this is addressed right away, but when you let the problem fester, your roof’s lifespan might be significantly shortened. Infestations like this could additionally trigger leaks. Each time the weather is dangerous, you need to by no means get on prime of your roof. In case your roof is slippery and moist, it’s possible you’ll fall, inflicting bad accidents or perhaps death. It’s in your best curiosity to deal with your challenge on a dry, sunny day. Using the web will typically reveal many services that seem perfect for the job, however are situated out-of-state: these must be prevented! All the time hire regionally and use a contractor with a historical past within the local community. Non-local options will all the time value considerably extra and you run a higher danger for encountering fraudulent providers. In case you are inquisitive about turning into extra green, you can use environmentally safe materials for roofing. Recycled materials consisting of used plastic, rubber and wood waste can be a nice possibility, in addition to solar panels. This may also prevent money on preliminary prices or power charges in the residence. From what type of roof to hiring the precise man, you want to know some recommendation that will help you navigate your method. Continue studying to search out out some useful details about roofing.

Aqui Es Texcoco Aqui Es Texcoco, known for their lamb barbecue (barbacoa), has drawn the attention of many food media outlets and was even featured on Andrew Zimmern’s Bizarre Foods a few years ago. Texcoco is a region in Mexico where lamb barbacoa originated. Traditionally, the meat is slow roasted for hours in an underground fire pit covered with maguey leaves. Because of US restaurant regulations, this process is not done here, but according to many, Aqui Es Texcoco’s is the best you’ll taste in the US and closely resembles the traditional version. I’ve personally never tasted the Texcoco version, but I do enjoy the lamb barbacoa here. We recently visited this weekend and there was actually a crew from the Cooking Channel filming a taco segment. Luckily, we were still able to grab a table. Aqui Es Texcoco specializes in lamb barbacoa and it’s basically what you should order when you are here. A good choice is the barbacoa plate which comes with a variety of lamb parts along with soft tortillas and taco fixings so you can make your own lamb tacos. However on this visit, we decided to get the lamb tacos, served with grilled tortillas. You can choose from lean meat, rib, tripe, brain or head. We chose to get one of each. The folded tortillas came out hot, golden and crispy. Each one was stuffed with lamb and accompanied with fresh papalo, an herb similar to cilantro that is common in Mexico. We also were provided with other garnishes and sauces to add to our tacos. I tend to favor the rib meat, tender and moist with slightly crispy edges. For those unafraid of a little fat, the head is probably the most flavorful of all the parts. While the barbacoa plate comes with lamb broth, the tacos do not, so we ordered a small cup. The thin clear broth is rich and hearty. At the bottom you’ll find garbanzo beans and bits of rice. Enchilada, Rolled Taco, Sope Combination We usually stick to just the lamb barbacoa and tacos but decided to try some of their other offerings. We ordered the lamb version of this combination plate. While everything tasted fine, I didn’t quite enjoy this as much. Covered in so many ingredients, the lamb meat didn’t get a chance to shine. Next time we’ll stick to the bbq plate or lamb tacos. Overall, we enjoyed our visit here. The staff is extremely friendly and will take the time to explain things to first time visitors. The restaurant is a little small, but you can always order your food to-go and you can even place orders online. You can check out the full menu here. Aqui Es Texcoco (also locations in LA and Tijuana) Chula Vista, CA 91911

Outdoor white LED strip This LED strip has a pleasant warm-white colour. It shines with an intensity per metre corresponding to an approx. 20W incandescent bulb. This LED strip is suitable for places where you wish an indirect lighting outdoor or in moist places such as kitchen and bathrooms. Use it outdoor under eaves, along a wall, along the roof or along the entrance etc. The strip has self-adhesive tape on the rear and can therefore be fastened on smooth surfaces. If the strip is to be glued to wooden surfaces, we advise to use aluminium rails between the strip and the surface. Accessories (Click the accessory to add to basket) This is included when ordering the LED strip - Plastic fittings for mounting of the LED strip. |Number of LEDs: ODSIF's telephone number: +45 45 81 22 11. Or send us an email:

Baby, it’s cold outside! Keep warm with a bowl of delicious southern-style Chicken and Dumplings made with light, fluffy dumplings in a rich broth loaded with chicken, vegetables, and fresh herbs. It’s pure southern comfort in a bowl. 6 tablespoons butter 1 large onion, small dice 6 medium carrots, peeled, cut crosswise into thin rounds 2 ribs of celery cut into small dice 2 tablespoons fresh thyme, divided 2 ¼ cups flour, divided 2 boxes sodium free chicken stock Kosher salt and freshly ground pepper 8 boneless, skinless chicken thighs, cut into thin strips 2 tablespoons chopped fresh parsley 2 teaspoons baking powder 4 tablespoons chilled vegetable shortening, cut into cubes 1 cup whole milk In a 5- to 6-quart heavy pot with a tight-fitting lid, heat butter over medium. Add onion, carrots, celery and 1 tablespoon of fresh thyme. Cover and cook, stirring occasionally, until onion is soft, about 5 minutes. Add 1/4 cup flour and cook, stirring, 30 seconds. Add broth and bring to a boil, constantly stirring; season with salt and pepper. Nestle chicken and parsley in pot; reduce heat to medium-low. Cover and cook, stirring occasionally, 20 minutes. To make the dumplings: In a medium bowl, whisk together remaining 2 cup flours, baking powder, and 1 teaspoon salt. Using a pastry cutter or two knives, cut in the shortening into the flour until the flour is just mealy. Gradually stir in the remaining thyme and milk until the dough just holds together to form a moist and soft batter. Drop the batter by rounded tablespoons in the simmering liquid, keeping them spaced apart. Simmer uncovered for 10 minutes, then cover and simmer until chicken is tender and dumplings are firm 10 minutes. Makes 10 servings.

Table of Contents - When the air remains over a homogenous area for a sufficiently longer time, it acquires the characteristics of the area. The homogenous regions can be the vast ocean surface or vast plains and plateaus. - The air with distinctive characteristics in terms of temperature and humidity is called an air mass. It is a large body of air having little horizontal variation in temperature and moisture. - Air masses form an integral part of the global planetary wind system. Therefore, they are associated with one or other wind belt. - Pressure Belts – Equatorial Low, Sub-Tropical High, Sub-Polar Low and Polar High - Wind Movement – Factors Affecting Wind – Coriolis Force - Winds – General Circulation – Permanent, Secondary, Local Winds - They extend from surface to lower stratosphere and are across thousands of kilometers. - The homogenous surfaces, over which air masses form, are called the source regions. - The main source regions are the high pressure belts in the sub tropics (giving rise to tropical air masses) and around the poles (the source for polar air masses). - Source Region establishes heat and moisture equilibrium with the overlying air mass. - When an air mass moves away from a source region, the upper level maintains the physical characteristics for a longer period. This is possible because air masses are stable with stagnant air which do not facilitate convection. Conduction and radiation in such stagnant air is not effective. Conditions for the formation of Air masses - Source region should be extensive with gentle, divergent air circulation (slightly at high pressure). - Areas with high pressure but little pressure difference or pressure gradient are ideal source regions. - There are no major source regions in the mid-latitudes as these regions are dominated by cyclonic and other disturbances. Air masses based on Source Regions - There are five major source regions. These are: - Warm tropical and subtropical oceans; - The subtropical hot deserts; - The relatively cold high latitude oceans; - The very cold snow covered continents in high latitudes; - Permanently ice covered continents in the Arctic and Antarctica. - Accordingly, following types of airmasses are recognised: - Maritime tropical (mT); - Continental tropical (cT); - Maritime polar (mP); - Continental polar (cP); - Continental arctic (cA). - Tropical air masses are warm and polar air masses are cold. - The heat transfer processes that warms or cools the air takes place slowly. Cold Air Mass - A cold air mass is one which is colder than the underlying surface and is associated with instability and atmospheric turbulence. Cold source regions (polar air masses) - Arctic Ocean – cold and moist - Siberia – cold and dry - Northern Canada – cold and dry - Southern Ocean – cold and moist Warm Air Mass - A warm air mass is one which is warmer than the underlying surface and is associated with stable weather conditions. Warm source regions (tropical air masses) - Sahara Desert – warm and dry - Tropical Oceans – warm and moist Influence of Air Masses on World Weather - The properties of an air mass which influence the accompanying weather are vertical distribution temperature (indicating its stability and coldness or warmness) and the moisture content. - The air masses carry atmospheric moisture from oceans to continents and cause precipitation over landmasses. - They transport latent heat, thus removing the latitudinal heat balance. - Most of the migratory atmospheric disturbances such as cyclones and storms originate at the contact zone between different air masses and the weather associated with these disturbances is determined by characteristics of the air masses involved. Classification of Air Masses - Broadly, the air masses are classified into polar and tropical air masses. - Both the polar and the continental air masses can be either of maritime or continental types. Continental Polar Air Masses (CP) - Source regions of these air masses are the Arctic basin, northern North America, Eurasia and Antarctica. - These air masses are characterized by dry, cold and stable conditions. - The weather during winter is frigid, clear and stable. - During summer, the weather is less stable with lesser prevalence of anticyclonic winds, warmer landmasses and lesser snow. Maritime Polar Air Masses (MP) - The source region of these air masses are the oceans between 40° and 60° latitudes. - These are actually those continental polar air masses which have moved over the warmer oceans, got heated up and have collected moisture. - The conditions over the source regions are cool, moist and unstable. These are the regions which cannot lie stagnant for long. - The weather during winters is characterized by high humidity, overcast skies and occasional fog and precipitation. - During summer, the weather is clear, fair and stable. Continental Tropical Air Masses (CT) - The source-regions of the air masses include tropical and sub-tropical deserts of Sahara in Africa, and of West Asia and Australia. - These air masses are dry, hot and stable and do not extend beyond the source. - They are dry throughout the year. Maritime Tropical Air Masses (MT) - The source regions of these air masses include the oceans in tropics and sub-tropics such as Mexican Gulf, the Pacific and the Atlantic oceans. - These air masses are warm, humid and unstable. - The weather during winter has mild temperatures, overcast skies with fog. - During summer, the weather is characterized by high temperatures, high humidity, cumulous clouds and convectional rainfall.

Many people do not know that shaving with a disposable razor is the actual CAUSE of shaver bumps and ingrown hairs and over time, skin darkening and discoloration too. The problem is the blade scrapes away the outer protective layer of skin as well as the hairs and this is the cause of all the irritation problems. Waxing and epilating also cause ingrown hairs and laser can seriously burn the skin. Look on the Internet for a good personal electric shaver and shave dry. The wet/dry shavers are not worth the money and you can never get a long lasting smoothness when the skin is wet. Added to this you have to throw away the shaver when the battery no longer accepts a charge as you cannot put in a new battery without destroying the vacuum seal which makes it watertight. Always shave when the skin is clean and dry. If wet, the skin cells swell up with water and conceal the base of the hair so no shaver blade can get close down the hair shaft. When the skin dries the cells deflate, the hair become visible again. This is why so many believe the old wives tale that shaving causes hair to re grow thicker and faster. It simply cannot. If you shave dry with a personal shaver you do not have this problem and you can get smoother skin than with a naked blade. Never use talc to shave with as this is a known carcinogen. Cornstarch in contact with a warm and moist environment as in you private parts can deteriorate causing yeast infections. You may also want to wipe the shaver foil frequently with peroxide or rubbing alcohol to remove and bacteria that accumulates. Cleaning out the hair residue from an electric shaver is also very important. When held upside down the hair particles, which have sharp edges, fall through the shaver foil onto the skin and this irritates it causing a rash. An electric face shaver, even if colored pink, is not the same as a personal shaver or pubic shaver. The foil holes are usually too large and allow the skin to poke through the foil along with the hair into the path of the blades, which then scrape and injure the skin. The specialized personal electric shaver has smaller graduated holes which do not irritate and damage the skin. The result is smooth skin but you will no longer have to waste money on cremes, lotions and potions or moisturizers to get rid of shaver bumps and skin dryness.

Biscuits are my favorite. When I moved to New Mexico, the altitude put a major damper on my biscuit-making abilities. One year, I made a pact to myself: I was going to master high-altitude biscuits! (It's good to have goals.) I tinkered with my tried-and-true sea level recipe and ended up with these. They are quick enough that I can whip up the dough and have the biscuits ready to go by the time my oven preheats, buttery, and moist and flaky all at once. I make these nearly every Sunday morning - such an easy, delicious treat. High Altitude Buttermilk Biscuits I live about a mile above sea level and this recipe should work well without adjustments for anyone in the 4,000 - 6,000 feet range. Higher or lower than that and you may need to make adjustments - for lower altitudes, try increasing the baking powder by 1/2 tsp. For higher, decrease it by 1/2 tsp. I'd also recommend increasing the buttermilk a TBSP at a time for higher altitudes. takes: 22 minutes makes: 6 biscuits - 1 3/4 cups all-purpose flour - 1 TBSP sugar - 2 tsp baking powder - 1 tsp baking soda - 1 tsp salt - 5 TBSP butter - very cold and cut into cubes (I slice into tablespoons then quarter. Keep it cold!) - 3/4 cups buttermilk (if it's extra dry you may need a few TBSP more) - Preheat oven to 425 degrees F - In a large bowl, mix together flour, sugar, baking powder, baking soda, and salt. - Crumble in the cold, cubed butter - I dump the cubes into the flour mix and quickly crumble with my hands. - Gently stir in buttermilk - start with 3/4 cup and add more a TBSP at a time until the dough has just come together. - Turn out dough onto a floured, flat surface and lightly press into a ball to make sure that it's sticking together. Dust the top with flour and then lightly press into a 1" thick round. - Cut out biscuits - I use a wide-mouth ball jar. You'll likely be able to cut out about five biscuits from your initial round, and then you can gently form the scrap edges into your sixth biscuit. Place onto a baking sheet. - Bake for 12 minutes, until top of biscuits are lightly golden brown. Whether you top these with butter and jam, or a sausage gravy, or slice them in half and make a little breakfast sandwich, or just eat them plain (I've happily done all of the above). Enjoy!

The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Essence of Buddhism, by Various. This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org Title: The Essence of Buddhism Editor: E. Haldeman-Julius Release Date: April 21, 2006 [EBook #18223] Produced by Marilynda Fraser-Cunliffe, Sankar Viswanathan, and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at TEN CENT POCKET SERIES NO. 325 Edited by E. Haldeman-Julius The Essence of Buddhism HALDEMAN-JULIUS COMPANY, GIRARD, KANSAS, Copyright, 1922. Haldeman-Julius Company. I am glad to be permitted thus to say, in a few words of introduction to this well-meditated little volume, how pleasant and how profitable an idea it must be considered to have designed and compiled a Buddhist anthology. Selecting his cut and uncut jewels from very various Buddhistic sources, Mr. Bowden has here supplied those who buy and use the book with rubies and sapphires and emeralds of wisdom, compassion, and human brotherhood, any one of which, worn on the heart, would be sufficient to make the wearer rich beyond estimation for a day. The author disclaims any attempt to set forth a corpus of Buddhistic morality and doctrine, nor, indeed, would anything of the kind be possible within such narrow limits; but I rejoice to observe how well and faithfully his manifold extracts from the Sacred Books of India and the East exhibit that ever-pervading tenderness of the great Asiatic Teacher, which extended itself to all alike that live. This compassionateness of Gautama, if nothing else had been illustrated by the collection, would render it precious to possess and fruitful to employ; but many another lofty tenet of the “Light” of Asia finds illumination in some brief verse or maxim as day after day glides by; and he who should mark the passage of the months with these simple pages must become, I think, a better man at the year’s end than at its beginning. I recommend this compilation without hesitation or reserve. E. M. BOWDEN. In this compilation no attempt has been made to present a general view of Buddhism as a religious or philosophical system. The aim has rather been to turn Buddhism to account as a moral force by bringing together a selection of its beautiful sentiments, and lofty maxims, and particularly including some of those which inculcate mercy to the lower animals. On this point a far higher stand is taken by Buddhism than by Christianity—or at any rate than by Christianity as understood and interpreted by those who ought to know. Not only is the whole question of our duties to the lower animals commonly ignored in Christian works as, for instance, in the famous Imitation of Christ, and scores of others; but, as if this were not enough, a reasoned attempt has actually been made, on the strength of Christian teaching, to explode the notion that animals have any right (e.g., in Moral Philosophy, by Father Joseph Rickaby). Very different in this respect is the tone of the average Buddhist treatise, with its earnest exhortations, recurring as a matter of course, to show mercy on every living thing; and this difference alone is an adequate reason for compiling a Buddhist anthology. In regard to the sources quoted from, considerable latitude seemed allowable. They do not all, by any means, possess canonical authority. But they are all distinctly Buddhist in character. The supposed dates of the originals range from at least the third century B. C. to medieval and later times. Hence, it is clear that, should any one think to make use of quotations from this work for controversial purposes, a certain degree of caution will be necessary. The context of the passage, and the date and the authorship of the original work, may all need to be taken into account; while it must also be borne in mind that the religious terms, such as “heaven” and “sin,” which have to be employed in English, do not always correspond exactly to the Buddhist conception. Of the numerous Buddhist works which have now been translated from some eight or ten eastern languages, the greater number, when regarded purely as literature, occupy a very low level. At times they are so remarkably dull and silly that the reader is inclined to ask why they were ever translated. But the one redeeming feature in the voluminous compositions of Buddhist writers is the boundless compassion which they consistently inculcate. The insertion of a passage in these pages does not necessarily imply that the compiler accepts in its entirety the teaching it conveys. Concerning that oft-repeated injunction, not to kill any living creature whatsoever, we can hardly doubt that there are many cases in which to take life, provided it is taken painlessly, not only is not on the whole an unkindness, but is an act of beneficence. If we sometimes give to this injunction the sense of extending our sympathy to the lowest sentient being, and not causing pain to living creatures while they live, we shall perhaps not be doing violence to the spirit of mercy by which it was prompted. There are many passages in Buddhist works which advocate preference for the spirit over the letter, or the exercise of judgment in accepting what we are taught. A few passages, though not many, have been included more because they are striking or poetical than for the sake of their moral teaching. As the references given are mostly to the Oriental origins, it is only fair to insert here a list of the English and French translations which have been principally used in compiling this book. The following works comprise most of those which have proved directly of service for the purpose—”Sacred Books of the East,” namely: Vol. 10. Dhammapada, by F. Max Muller; and Sutta-Nipata, by V. Fausboll. Vol. 11. Buddhist Suttas, by T. W. Rhys Davids. Vol. 13. Vinaya Texts, part 1, by T. W. Rhys Davids and H. Oldenberg. Vol. 17. Vinaya Texts, part 2, by T. W. Rhys Davids and H. Oldenberg. Vol. 19. Fo-sho-hing-tsan-king, by Rev. S. Beal. Vol. 20. Vinaya Texts, part 3, by T. W. Rhys Davids and H. Oldenberg. Vol. 21. Saddharma-pundarika, by H. Kern. Vol. 35. Questions of King Milinda, part 1, by T. W. Rhys Davids. Vol. 36. Questions of King Milinda, part 2, by T. W. Rhys Davids. Vol. 49. Buddhist Mahayana Texts, by E. B. Cowell, F. Max Muller, and J. Takakusu. “Sacred Books of the Buddhists,” namely: Vol. 1. Jatakamala, by J. S. Speyer. Vol. 2. Dialogues of the Buddha, by T. W. Rhys Davids. The Jataka, or Stories of the Buddha’s Former Births, translated under the editorship of Professor E. B. Cowell. Buddhism of Tibet, by L. A. Waddell. Buddhism in Translations, by H. C. Warren. Travels of Fa-hien, by James Legge. Selected Essays, by F. Max Muller. Buddhist Birth Stories, or Jataka Tales, by T. W. Rhys Davids. Hibbert Lectures for 1881, by T. W. Rhys Davids. Buddhism, by T. W. Rhys Davids. Catena of Buddhist Scriptures from the Chinese, by Rev. S. Beal. Abstract of Four Lectures on Buddhist Literature in China, by Rev. S. Beal. Romantic Legend of Sakya Buddha, by Rev. S. Beal. Texts from the Buddhist Canon known as Dhammapada, by Rev. S. Beal. Udanavarga, by W. W. Rockhill. Lalita Vistara, by Rajendralala Mitra. Sanskrit Buddhist Literature of Nepal, by Rajendralala Mitra. Mahavamsa, by L. C. Wijesinha. Attanagalu-vansa, by James D’Alwis. Archaeological Survey of Southern India (new series of reports), vol. 1, by James Burgess, with translations by Georg Buhler. Archaeological Survey of Western India, vol. 4, by James Burgess. Sutta-Nipata, by Sir M. Coomara Swamy. Katha Sarit Sagara, by C. H. Tawney. Grammar of the Tibetan Language, by A. Csoma de Koros. Nagananda: a Buddhist Drama, by Palmer Boyd. Buddhaghosa’s Parables, by Capt. T. Rogers. Light of Asia, by Sir Edwin Arnold. Ancient Proverbs and Maxims from Burmese Sources, by James Gray. Jinalankara, or Embellishments of Buddha, by James Gray. We-than-da-ya: a Buddhist Legend, by L. Allan Goss. The English Governess at the Siamese Court, by Mrs. A. H. Leonowens. The Catechism of the Shamans, by C. F. Neumann. View of the History, Literature, and Religion of the Hindoos, by Rev. W. Ward. Horace Sinicae: Translations from the Popular Literature of the Chinese, by Rev. Robert Morrison. Contemporary Review for February, 1876. Cornhill Magazine for August, 1876. The Buddhist, vol. 1. Journal of Pali Text Society for 1886. Journal of Buddhist Text Society of India, vols. 1, 3, 4 and 5. Journal of Royal Asiatic Society, new series, vol. 2; also vol. for 1894. Journal of Ceylon Branch of Royal Asiatic Society, No. 2. Journal of Asiatic Society of Bengal, Vol. 36. Transactions of Asiatic Society of Japan, vol. 22. Journal of American Oriental Society, vol. 4. Journal Asiatique, septieme serie, vols. 17, 19 and 20. Lalita Vistara, by P. E. Foucaux. La Guirlande Pricieuse des Demandes et des Responses, by P. E. Foucaux. Sept Suttas Palis, tires du Dighanikaya, by P. Grimblot. THE ESSENCE OF BUDDHISM. All beings desire happiness; therefore to all extend your benevolence.—Mahavamsa. Because he has pity upon every living creature, therefore is a man called “holy.”—Dhammapada. Like as a mother at the risk of her life watches over her only child, so also let every one cultivate towards all beings a boundless (friendly) mind.—Metta-sutta. Hurt not others with that which pains yourself.—Udanavarga. I cannot have pleasure while another grieves and I have power to help him.—Jatakamala. With pure thoughts and fulness of love, I will do towards others what I do for myself.—Lalita Vistara. If you desire to do something pleasing to me, then desist from hunting forever! The poor poor beasts of the forest, being … dull of intellect, are worthy of pity for this very reason.—Jatakamala. You will generously follow the impulse of pity, I hope.—Jatakamala. For that they hated this poor slender boy, That ever frowned upon their barbarous sports, And loved the beasts they tortured in their play, And wept to see the wounded hare, or doe, Or trout that floundered on the angler’s hook. Good men melt with compassion even for one who has wrought them harm.—Kshemendra’s Avadana Kalpalata. Though a man with a sharp sword should cut one’s body bit by bit, let not an angry thought … arise, let the mouth speak no ill word.—Fo-sho-hing-tsan-king. Them who became thy murderers, thou forgavest.—Lalita Vistara. Overcome evil by good.—Udanavarga. Conquer your foe by force, and you increase his enmity; conquer by love, and you reap no after-sorrow.—Fo-sho-hing-tsan-king. This great principle of returning good for evil.—Sutra of Forty-two Sections. The member of Buddha’s order … should not intentionally destroy the life of any being, down even to a worm or an ant.—Mahavagga. Whether now any man kill with his own hand, or command any other to kill, or whether he only see with pleasure the act of killing—all is equally forbidden by this law.—Sha-mi-lu-i-yao-lio. My teaching is this, that the slightest act of charity, even in the lowest class of persons, such as saving the life of an insect out of pity, that this act … shall bring to the doer of it consequent benefit.—T’sa-ho-hom-king. He came to remove the sorrows of all living things.—Fo-sho-hing-tsan-king. “Now (said he) I will see a noble law, unlike the worldly methods known to men, … and will fight against the chief wrought upon man by sickness, age, and death.”—Fo-sho-hing-tsan-king. To a righteous man death must bring gladness. For no fear of mishap exists for him who is devoted to a holy life.—Jatakamala. He lives only to be a help to others.—Questions of King Milinda. Why should we cling to this perishable body? In the eye of the wise, the only thing it is good for is to benefit one’s fellow-creatures.—Katha Sarit Sagara. Is not all I possess, even to my very body, kept for the benefit of others?—Nagananda. All men should cultivate a fixed and firm determination, and vow that what they once undertake they will never give up.—Fo-pen-hing-tsih-king. Rather will I fall headlong into hell … than do a deed that is unworthy.—Jataka. May my body be ground to powder small as the mustard-seed if I ever desire to (break my vow)!—Fo-pen-hing-tsih-king. Happy is he that is virtuous—Dhammapada. To make an end of selfishness is happiness.—Udanavarga. There is no happiness except in righteousness.—Attanagalu-vansa. Full of love for all things in the world, practicing virtue in order to benefit others—this man only is happy.—Fa-kheu-pi-u. He that loveth iniquity beckoneth to misfortune.—Jitsu-go-kiyo. Watch your thoughts.—Dhammapada. Control your tongue.—Dhammapada. Have a strict control over your passions.—Story of Sundari and Nanda. The higher life maketh he known, in all its purity and in all its perfectness.—Tevijja-sutta. So imbued were they with lovingkindness that all the birds and animals loved them and harmed them not.—Sama Jataka (Burmese version). Compassionate and kind to all creatures that have life.—Brahma-jala-sutta. The birds and beasts and creeping things—’tis writ— Had sense of Buddha’s vast embracing love, And took the promise of his piteous speech. —Sir Edwin Arnold. He cherished the feeling of affection for all beings as if they were his only son.—Lalita Vistara. Closely as cause and effect are bound together, So do two loving hearts entwine and live— Such is the power of love to join in one. That thou mayst know— What others will not—that I love thee most Because I loved so well all living souls. —Sir Edwin Arnold. Always give in charity to people of good conduct.—Jatakamala. With every desire to do good, the ignorant and foolish only succeed in doing harm…. ‘Tis knowledge crowns endeavor with success.—Jataka. There is no sweet companion like pure charity.—Fo-sho-hing-tsan-king. Almsgiving, it is said, constitutes the value of riches.—Jatakamala. Good is restraint in all things.—Dhammapada. Unselfishness, true, and self-control.—Jataka. The religious mendicant, wisely reflecting, is patient under cold and heat, under hunger and thirst, … under bodily sufferings, under pains however sharp.—Sabbasava-sutta. Though a man conquer a thousand thousand men in battle, a greater conqueror still is he who conquers himself.—Udanavarga. Root out the love of self.—Jataka. The man of honor should minister to his friends … by liberality, courtesy, benevolence, and by doing to them as he would be done by.—Sigalovada-sutta. Practice the art of “giving up.”—Fo-sho-hing-tsan-king. Speak not harshly to anybody.—Dhammapada. May I speak kindly and softly to every one I chance to meet.—Inscription in Temple of Nakhon Vat. Offensive language is harsh even to the brutes.—Suttavaddhananiti. Courtesy is the best ornament. Beauty without courtesy is like a grove without flowers.—Buddha-charita. He knew not the art of hypocrisy.—Jatakamala. Let a man say that which is right, not that which is unrighteous, … that which is pleasing, not that which is unpleasing, … that which is true, not that which is false.—Subhasita-sutta. As he who loves life avoids poison, so let the sage avoid sinfulness.—Udanavarga. He sees danger in even the least of those things he should avoid.—Tevijja-sutta. Sin easily develops.—Rock Inscriptions of Asoka. May I never do, nor cause to be done, nor contemplate the doing of, even the most trivial sin!—Attanagalu-vansa (conclusion). Let not one who is asked for his pardon withhold it.—Mahavagga. ‘T is wrong to conquer him who sues for mercy.—Lalita Vistara. Let none out of anger or resentment wish harm to another.—Metta-sutta. Let us then live happily, not hating those who hate us. In the midst of those who hate us, let us dwell free from hatred.—Dhammapada. For hatred does not cease by hatred at any time; hatred ceases by love; this is an old rule.—Dhammapada. (To the) self-reliant there is strength and joy.—Fo-sho-hing-tsan-king. Let him not grieve for that which is lost.—Attadanda-sutta. Not from weeping or grieving will any obtain peace of mind.—Salla-sutta. At first my sorrowing heart was heavy; but now my sorrow has brought forth only profit.—Fo-sho-hing-tsan-king. Give to him that asketh, even though it be but a little.—Udanavarga. He delights in giving so far as he is able.—Questions of King Milinda. Your guileless heart loves to exercise its charity.—Fo-sho-hing-tsan-king. Always intent on bringing about the good and the happiness of others.—Jatakamala. Earnestly practice every good work.—Fo-sho-hing-tsan-king. If they may cause by it the happiness of others, even pain is highly esteemed by the righteous, as if it were gain.—Jatakamala. When pure rules of conduct are observed, then there is true religion.—Fo-sho-hing-tsan-king. Wherein does religion consist? In (committing) the least possible harm, in (doing) abundance of good, in (the practice of) pity, love, truth, and likewise purity of life.—Pillar Inscriptions of Asoka. (Not superstitious rites, but) kindness to slaves and servants, reverence towards venerable persons, self-control with respect to living creatures, … these and similar (virtuous actions are the rites which ought indeed to be performed.)—Rock Inscriptions of Asoka. The practice of religion involves as a first principle a loving, compassionate heart for all creatures.—Fo-pen-hing-tsih-king. Shall we in worshipping slay that which hath life? This is like those who practice wisdom, and the way of religious abstraction, but neglect the rules of moral conduct.—Fo-sho-hing-tsan-king. How can a system requiring the infliction of misery on other beings be called a religious system?… To seek a good by doing an evil is surely no safe plan.—Fo-pen-hing-tsih-king. Unto the dumb lips of his flock he lent Sad pleading words, showing how man, who prays For mercy to the gods, is merciless. —Sir Edwin Arnold. I then will ask you, if a man, in worshipping … sacrifices a sheep, and so does well, wherefore not his child, … and so do better? Surely … there is no merit in killing a sheep!—Fo-pen-hing-tsih-king. Nor [shall one] lay Upon the brow of innocent bound beasts One hair’s weight of that answer all must give For all things done amiss or wrongfully. —Sir Edwin Arnold. Doing no injury to any one, Dwell in the world full of love and kindness. —Questions of King Milinda. Ministering to the worthy, doing harm to none, Always ready to render reverence to whom it is due. Loving righteousness and righteous conversation, Ever willing to hear what may profit another. Scrupulously avoiding all wicked actions; Reverently performing all virtuous ones; Purifying his intention from all selfish ends: This is the doctrine of all the Buddhas. Instruct yourself (more and more) in the highest morality.—Nagarjuna’s “Friendly Epistle.” May my thoughts, now small and narrow, expand in the next existence, that I may understand the precepts … thoroughly, and never break them or be guilty of trespasses.—Inscription in Temple of Nakhon Vat. Religion he looks upon as his best ornament.—Fo-sho-hing-tsan-king. The sinner is never beautiful.—Lalita Vistara. Use no perfume but sweetness of thoughts.—Siamese Buddhist Maxim. Wealth and beauty, scented flowers and ornaments like these, are not to be compared for grace with moral rectitude!—Fo-sho-hing-tsan-king. He who … cannot feel joy to see merit in others is stained with the darkness of sin.—Story of Pratiharyya. Ask not of (a person’s) descent, but ask about his conduct—Sundarikabharadvaja-sutta. The young man Vasettha said: “When one is virtuous and full of (good) works, in this way he becomes a Brahman.”—Vasettha-sutta. Not by birth does one become low caste, not by birth a Brahman; by his deeds he becomes low caste, by his deeds he becomes a Brahman.—Vasala-sutta. Whosoever strikes, or by words annoys, mother or father, brother or sister, … let us know such as a “base-born.”—Vasala-sutta. Causing destruction to living beings, killing and mutilating, … stealing and speaking falsely, fraud and deception, … these are (what defile a man).—Amagandha-sutta. Whosoever … harms living beings, … and in whom there is no compassion for them, let us know such as a “base-born.”—Vasala-sutta. In whom there is truth and righteousness, he is blessed, he is a Brahman.—Dhammapada. Whoso hurts not (living) creatures, whether those that tremble or those that are strong, nor yet kills nor causes to be killed, him do I call a Brahman.—Vasettha-sutta. Whoso is (entirely) divested of sin, as is the heaven of mire and the moon of dust, him do I call a Brahman.—Udanavarga. Him I call indeed a Brahman who, though he be guilty of no offense, patiently endures reproaches, bonds, and stripes.—Dhammapada. We will patiently suffer threats and blows at the hands of foolish men.—Saddharma-pundarika. Who, though he be cursed by the world, yet cherishes no ill-will towards it.—Sammaparibbajaniya-sutta. Persecutions and revilings, murders and numberless imprisonments, these hast thou suffered in thousands from the world, verily delighting in long-suffering.—Lalita Vistara. At the end of life the soul goes forth alone; whereupon only our good deeds befriend us.—Fo-sho-hing-tsan-king. The wrongdoer, devoid of rectitude, … is full of anxiety when death arrives.—Mahaparinibbana-sutta. He who has done what is right is free from fear.—Udanavarga. No fear has any one of me; neither have I fear of any one: in my good-will to all I trust.—Introduction to the Jataka. Our deeds, whether good or evil, … follow us as shadows.—Fo-sho-hing-tsan-king. He who now gives in charity Shall surely reap where he has given; For whosoever piously bestows a little water Shall receive return like the great ocean. Covetous desire is the greatest (source of) sorrow. Appearing as a friend, in secret ’tis our enemy.—Fo-sho-hing-tsan-king. That which is given in charity is rich in returns; therefore charity is a true friend; although it scatters it brings no remorse.—Fo-sho-hing-tsan-king. He who stints the profit he has made, his wealth will soon be spent and lost.—Fo-sho-hing-tsan-king. The (real) treasure is that laid up … through charity and piety, temperance and self-control…. The treasure thus hid is secure, and passes not away. Though he leave the fleeting riches of the world, this a man carries with him—a treasure that no wrong of others, and no thief, can steal.—Nidhikanda-sutta. Think of all sentient beings as thy children.—Tenets of the Soto Sect. Though exalted, forget not the lowly.—Jitsu-go-kiyo. Be kind to all that lives.—Fo-sho-hing-tsan-king. Filled with compassion for all creatures.—Saddharma-pundarika. Of all possessions, contentedness is the best by far.—Nagarjuna’s “Friendly Epistle.” A contented mind is always joyful.—Fo-sho-hing-tsan-king. Let us then live happily, though we call nothing our own.—Dhammapada. Not the whole world, … the ocean-girt earth, With all the seas and the hills that girdle it, Would I wish to possess with shame added thereto. —Questions of King Milinda. Let none be forgetful of his own duty for the sake of another’s.—Dhammapada. The faults of others are easily seen; one’s own faults are difficult to see.—Udanavarga. Self-examination is painful.—Pillar Inscriptions of Asoka. A man winnows his neighbor’s faults like chaff: his own he hides, as a cheat the bad die from the gambler.—Dhammapada. She orders her household aright, she is hospitable to kinsmen and friends, a chaste wife, a thrifty housekeeper, skilful and diligent in all her duties.—Sigalovada-sutta. The wife … should be cherished by her husband.—Sigalovada-sutta. Were I not ready to suffer adversity with my husband as well as to enjoy happiness with him, I should be no true wife.—Legend of We-than-da-ya. It is better to die in righteousness than to live in unrighteousness.—Loweda Sangrahaya. Better to fling away life than transgress our convictions of duty.—Ta-chwang-yan-king-lun. Better for me to die battling (with the temper) than that I should live defeated.—Padhana-sutta. The loving Father of all that lives.—Tsing-tu-wan. Our loving Father, and Father of all that breathes.—Daily Manual of the Shaman. Even so of all things that have … life, there is not one that (the Buddhist anchorite) passes over; … he looks upon all with … deep-felt love. This, verily, … is the way to a state of union with God.—Tevijja-sutta. Doubts will exist as long as we live in the world. Yet, pursuing with joy the road of virtue, Like the man who observes the rugged path along the precipice, we ought Gladly and profitably to follow it. To feed a single good man is infinitely greater in point of merit, than attending to questions about heaven and earth, spirits and demons, such as occupy ordinary men.—Sutra of Forty-two Sections. What is goodness? First and foremost the agreement of the will with the conscience.—Sutra of Forty-two Sections. If you remove (from conduct) the purpose of the mind, the bodily act is but as rotten wood. Wherefore regulate the mind, and the body of itself will go right.—Fo-sho-hing-tsan-king. Keep watch over your hearts.—Mahaparinibbana-sutta. Let no evil desire whatever arise within you.—Cullavagga. So soon as there springs up within him an angry, malicious thought, some sinful, wrong disposition, … he puts it away, removes it, destroys it, he makes it not to be.—Sabbasava-sutta. With not a thought of selfishness or covetous desire.—Fo-sho-hing-tsan-king. Covetousness and anger are as the serpent’s poison.—Fo-sho-hing-tsan-king. They who do evil go to hell; they who are righteous go to heaven.—Dhammapada. He who, doing what he ought, … gives pleasure to others, shall find joy in the other world.—Udanavarga. The virtuous (when injured) grieve not so much for their own pain as for the loss of happiness incurred by their injurers.—Jatakamala. He truly must have a loving heart, For all things living place in him entire confidence. Ofttimes while he mused—as motionless As the fixed rock his seat—the squirrel leaped Upon his knee, the timid quail led forth Her brood between his feet, and blue doves pecked The rice-grains from the bowl beside his hand. —Sir Edwin Arnold. Those who search after truth should have a heart full of sympathy.—Story of Virudhaka. This (prince) feels for the welfare of the multitude.—Nalaka-sutta. The Royal Prince, perceiving the tired oxen, … the men toiling beneath the midday sun, and the birds devouring the hapless insects, his heart was filled with grief, as a man would feel upon seeing his own household bound in fetters: thus was he touched with sorrow for the whole family of sentient creatures—Fo-pen-hing-tsih-king. This king felt the weal and the woe of his subjects as his own.—Jatakamala. What is a true gift? One for which nothing is expected in return.—Prasnottaramalika. There is a way of giving, seeking pleasure by it (or) coveting to get more; some also give to gain a name for charity, some to gain the happiness of heaven…. But yours, O friend, is a charity free from such thoughts, the highest and best degree of charity, free from self-interest or thought of getting more.—Fo-sho-hing-tsan-king. ‘Tis thus men generally think and speak, they have a reference in all they do to their own advantage. But with this one it is not so: ’tis the good of others and not his own that he seeks.—Fo-pen-hing-tsih-king. Above all things be not careless; for carelessness is the great foe to virtue.—Fo-sho-hing-tsan-king. You say that while young a man should be gay, and when old then religious…. Death, however, as a robber, sword in hand, follows us all, desiring to capture his prey: how then should we wait for old age, ere we turn our minds to religion?—Fo-sho-hing-tsan-king. If you urge that I am young and tender, and that the time for seeking wisdom is not yet, then you should know that to seek true religion, there never is a time not fit.—Fo-sho-hing-tsan-king. Work out your own salvation with diligence.—Mahaparinibbana-sutta. No man can purify another.—Dhammapada. The good man’s love ends in love; the bad man’s love in hate.—Kshemendra’s Kalpalata. He who holds up a torch to (lighten) mankind is always honored by me.—Rahula-sutta. Where there is uprightness, wisdom is there, and where there is wisdom, uprightness is there.—Sonadanda-sutta. Liberty, courtesy, benevolence, unselfishness, under all circumstances towards all people—these qualities are to the world what the linchpin is to the rolling chariot.—Sigalovada-sutta. Let us be knit together … as friends.—Fo-sho-hing-tsan-king. Since even animals can live together in mutual reverence, confidence, and courtesy, much more should you, O Brethren, so let your light shine forth that you … may be seen to dwell in like manner together.—Cullavagga. Trust is the best of relationships.—Dhammapada. Faithful and trustworthy, he injures not his fellow-man by deceit.—Tevijja-sutta. Worship consists in fulfilling the design (of the person honored), not in offerings of perfumes, garlands, and the like.—Jatakamala. Compassion for all creatures is the true religion.—Buddha-charita. The wise firmly believe that in Mercy the whole of Righteousness is contained. What virtue … does there exist which is not the consequence of Mercy?—Jatakamala. Even if a man have done evil a hundred times, let him not do it again.—Udanavarga. He who, having been angered, gives way to anger no more, has achieved a mighty victory.—Udanavarga. Better than sovereignty over this earth, … better than lordship over all worlds, is the recompense of the first step in holiness.—Dhammapada. Now many distinguished warriors thought: we who go (to war) and find our delight in fighting, do evil…. What shall we do that we may cease from evil and do good?—Mahavagga. Victory breeds hatred.—Dhammapada. Therefore has this pious inscription been carved here (on the rock), to the end that posterity may not suppose that any further conquest ought to be made by them. Let them not hold that conquest by the sword is worthy the name of conquest; let them see in it only confusion and violence. Let them reckon as true conquests none save the triumphs of religion.—Rock Inscriptions of Asoka. He walks not in religion in a quarrelsome spirit.—Questions of King Milinda. Nay, … let not quarrel arise, nor strife, nor discord, nor dispute.—Mahavagga. Thus he lives as a binder together of those who are divided, an encourager of those who are friends, a peace-maker, a lover of peace, impassioned for peace, a speaker of words that make for peace.—Tevijja-sutta. It is not as a means of procuring my own happiness that I give in charity, but I love charity that I may do good to the world.—Jatakamala. Benevolence is the doing of righteous acts of help to living creatures whether of high or low degree; as when we help a tortoise in trouble, or a sick sparrow, without looking for any reward.—Tenets of the Soto Sect. ‘Tis out of mercy, not with the desire of gain, that the virtuous take care of a person in distress, nor do they mind whether the other understands this or not.—Jatakamala. Let him that has a merciful character be my friend.—Bhakti Sataka. If a man thus walks in the ways of compassion, is it possible that he should hurt anything intentionally?—Sha-mi-lu-i-yao-lio. Living in the world, and doing no harm to aught that lives.—Fo-pen-hing-tsih-king. As he said so he acted.—Vangisa-sutta. Those who have sin at heart, but are sweet of speech, are like a pitcher smeared with nectar, but full of poison.—Lalita Vistara. Like a … flower that is rich in color, but has no scent, so are the fine … words of him who does not act accordingly.—Dhammapada. The mind must be brought under perfect subjection.—Inscription on Votive Images. He whose mind is subdued and perfectly controlled is happy.—Udanavarga. If only the thoughts be directed to that which is right, then happiness must necessarily follow.—Fa-kheu-pi-u. Evil he overcame by righteousness.—Questions of King Milinda. He felt compassion towards those who tormented him.—Attanagalu-vansa. The bearer of ill-will towards them that bear ill-will can never become pure; but he who bears no ill-will pacifies them that hate.—Udanavarga. The man who foolishly does me wrong, I will return him the protection of my ungrudging love.—Sutra of Forty-two Sections. Whether of the higher class of beings, as … a perfect man, … or of the lower class of beings, as a grasshopper or the smallest insect—in one word, whatever hath life thou shalt not kill.—Sha-mi-lu-i-yao-lio. To whom even the life of a serpent is sacred.—Lalita Vistara. I love living things that have no feet, … four-footed creatures, and things with many feet…. May all creatures, all things that live, all beings of whatever kind, may they all behold good fortune.—Cullavagga. You do not well enticing me to a sinful act. And what you say, that “nobody else will know of it”—will it be less sinful for this reason?—Jatakamala. There is no such thing as secrecy in wrongdoing.—Jataka. Even could she have kept it secret from men, … could she have kept it secret from spirit, … could she have kept it secret from the gods, yet she could not have escaped herself from the knowledge of her sin.—Questions of King Milinda. Clad in garments pure as the moonbeams, … her ornaments modesty and virtuous conduct.—Ajanta Cave Inscriptions. If you speak … to a woman, do it with pureness of heart…. Say to yourself: “Placed in this sinful world, let me be as the spotless lily, unsoiled by the mire in which it grows.” Is she old? regard her as your mother. Is she honorable? as your sister. Is She of small account? as a younger sister. Is she a child? then treat her with reverence and politeness.—Sutra of Forty-two Sections. Gentle and true, simple and kind was she, Noble of mien, with gracious speech to all, And gladsome looks—a pearl of womanhood. —Sir Edwin Arnold. Do not have evil-doers for friends…. Take as your friends the best of men.—Dhammapada. Briefly I will tell you the marks of a friend— When doing wrong, to warn; when doing well, to exhort to perseverance; When in difficulty or danger, to assist, relieve, and deliver. Such a man is indeed a true and illustrious friend. His friendship is prized by the gentle and the good.—Fo-sho-hing-tsan-king. Living … without cruelty among the cruel.—Udanavarga. The Scripture said: “Be kind and benevolent to every being, and spread peace in the world…. If it happen that thou see anything to be killed, thy soul shall be moved with pity and compassion. Ah, how watchful should we be over ourselves!”—Sha-mi-lu-i-yao-lio. I desire to produce in myself a loving heart towards all living creatures.—Fo-pen-hing-tsih-king. Let us then practice good works, and inspect our thoughts that we do no evil.—Fo-sho-hing-tsan-king. Now, therefore, it behooves me to examine into my faults; and if I find anything wrong in me, to put it away, and practice virtue only.—Jataka. Therefore … we would humble ourselves and repent us of our sins. Oh! that we may have strength to do so aright!—Liturgy of Kwan-yin. If we know that we have done wrong, and yet refuse to acknowledge it, we are guilty of prevarication.—Chinese Pratimoksha. From the very first, … having no wish to benefit others, or to do good in the least degree, we have been adding sin unto sin; and even though our actual crimes have not been so great, yet a wicked heart has ruled us within. Day and night, without interval or hesitation, have we continually contrived how to do wrong.—Liturgy of Kwan-yin. Accept the confession I make of my sin in its sinfulness, to the end that in future I may restrain myself therefrom.—Cullavagga. He who offends an offenseless man, … against such a fool the evil reverts, like fine dust thrown against the wind.—Kokaliya-sutta. May wisdom be with me always.—Inscription in Temple of Nakhon Vat. The fool who knows his foolishness is wise at any rate so far. But the fool who thinks himself wise, he is a fool indeed.—Dhammapada. He who holds back rising anger like a rolling chariot—him I call a real driver: other people are merely holding the reins.—Dhammapada. Anger, alas! how it changes the comely face! how it destroys the loveliness of beauty!—Fo-sho-hing-tsan-king. The fool who is angered, and thinks to triumph by the use of abusive language, is always vanquished by him whose words are patient.—Udanavarga. He who lives far from me yet walks righteously, is ever near me.—Fo-sho-hing-tsan-king. He sought after the good of those dependent on him.—Questions of King Milinda. Who, though he be lord over others, is patient with those that are weak.—Udanavarga. Loving her maids and dependents even as herself.—Lalita Vistara. Loving all things which live even as themselves.—Sir Edwin Arnold. Hear ye all this moral maxim, and having heard it keep it well: Whatsoever is displeasing to yourselves never do to another.—Bstanhgyur. Then declared he unto them (the rule of doing to others what we ourselves like).—San-kiao-yuen-lieu. From henceforth … put away evil and do good.—Jataka. At morning, noon, and night successively, store up good works.—Fo-sho-hing-tsan-king. Always doing good to those around you.—Fo-pen-hing-tsih-king. In order to terminate all suffering, be earnest in performing good deeds.—Buddhaghosa’s parables. Compassion alone sanctifies the good.—Kshemendra’s Avadana Kalpalata. Religion means self-sacrifice.—Rukemavati. O Buddha, the worship of thee consists in doing good to the world.—Bhakti Sataka. Persist not in calling attention to a matter calculated to cause division.—Patimokkha. Dwell together in mutual love.—Brahmanadhammika-sutta. Let us now unite in the practice of what is good, cherishing a gentle and sympathizing heart, and carefully cultivating good faith and righteousness.—Travels of Fa-hien. May I obtain wealth, and … may the wealth … obtained by me be for the benefit of others.—Jinalankara. Feeling deep compassion for the poor, grudging nothing which he possessed.—Phu-yau-king. Humble in mind, but large in gracious deeds, abundant in charity to the poor and helpless.—Fo-sho-hing-tsan-king. Full of modesty and pity, … kind and compassionate to all creatures that have life.—Tevijja-sutta. He who … is tender to all that lives … is protected by heaven and loved by men.—Fa-kheu-pi-u. Day and night the mind of Buddha’s disciples always delights in compassion.—Dhammapada. Let him not think detractingly of others.—Sariputta-sutta. But offer loving thoughts and acts to all.—Sir Edwin Arnold. Never should he speak a disparaging word of anybody.—Saddharma-pundarika. Whatever I understand (to be right) … I desire to practice.—Rock Inscriptions of Asoka. Lightly to laugh at and ridicule another is wrong.—Fa-kheu-pi-us. Virtuous deeds should be practiced today; for who can say but we may die tomorrow?—Temee Jatu. May I be thoroughly imbued with benevolence, and show always a charitable disposition, till such time as this heart shall cease to beat.—Inscription in Temple of Nakhon Vat. Born to give joy and bring peace to the world.—Fo-pen-hing-tsih-king. The whole world of sentient creatures enjoyed … universal tranquility.—Fo-sho-hing-tsan-king. Enmity and envy gave way to peace; contentment and rest prevailed everywhere; … discord and variance were entirely appeased.—Fo-sho-hing-tsan-king. Creatures of every variety were moved one toward another lovingly; fear and terror altogether put away, none entertained a hateful thought; the Angels, foregoing their heavenly joys, sought rather to alleviate the sinner’s sufferings.—Fo-sho-hing-tsan-king. The virtuous retain in their mind the good done to them, whereas the evil they experience drops from their mind, like water from a lotus-petal.—Jatakamala. Vice, O king, is a mean thing, virtue is great and grand.—Questions of King Milinda. I deem … unrighteous actions contemptible.—Mahavagga. Like food besmeared with poison, I abhor such happiness as is tainted with unrighteousness.—Jatakamala. As men sow, thus shall they reap.—Ta-chwang-yan-king-lun. Actions have their reward, and our deeds have their result.—Mahavagga. Our deeds are not lost, they will surely come (back again).—Kokaliya-sutta. Reaping the fruit of right or evil doing, and sharing happiness or misery in consequence.—Fo-sho-hing-tsan-king. Your evil thoughts and evil words but hurt yourself.—Fo-sho-hing-tsan-king. Hell was not created by any one…. The fire of the angry mind produces the fire of hell, and consumes its possessor. When a person does evil, he lights the fire of hell, and burns with his own fire.—Mulamuli. People grieve from selfishness.—Jara-sutta. Doing good we reap good, just as a man who sows that which is sweet (enjoys the same).—Fa-kheu-pi-us. He who does wrong, O king, comes to feel remorse…. But he who does well feels no remorse, and feeling no remorse, gladness will spring up within him.—Questions of King Milinda. Morality brings happiness: … at night one’s rest is peaceful, and on waking one is still happy.—Udanavarga. If, then, you would please me, show pity to that poor wretch.—Nagananda. Oppressed with others’ sufferings.—Fo-sho-hing-tsan-king. A loving heart is the great requirement! … not to oppress, not to destroy; … not to exalt oneself by treading down others; but to comfort and befriend those in suffering.—Fo-sho-hing-tsan-king. He cares for and cherishes his people more than one would a naked and perishing child.—Fo-pen-hing-tsih-king. The acts and the practice of religion, to wit, sympathy, charity, truthfulness, purity, gentleness, kindness.—Pillar Inscriptions of Asoka. Go ye, O Brethren, and wander forth, for the gain of the many, the welfare of the many, in compassion for the world, for the good, for the gain, for the welfare of … men…. Publish, O, Brethren, the doctrine glorious…. Preach ye a life of holiness … perfect and pure.—Mahavagga. Go, then, through every country, convert those not converted…. Go, therefore, each one travelling alone; filled with compassion, go! rescue and receive.—Fo-sho-hing-tsan-king. Have you not heard what Buddha says in the Sutra (where he bids his followers), not to despise the little child?—Ta-chwang-yan-king-lun. In this mode of salvation there are no distinctions of rich and poor, male and female, people and priests: all are equally able to arrive at the blissful state.—From a Chinese Buddhist Tract. Even the most unworthy who seeks for salvation is not to be forbidden.—Ta-chwang-yan-king-lun. Look with friendship … on the evil and on the good.—Introduction to Jataka Book. Should those who are not with us, O Brethren, speak in dispraise of me, or of my doctrine, or of the church, that is no reason why you should give way to anger.—Brahma-jala-sutta. Why should there be such sorrowful contention? You honor what we honor, both alike: then we are brothers as concerns religion.—Fo-sho-hing-tsan-king. No decrying of other sects, … no depreciation (of others) without cause, but on the contrary, rendering of honor to other sects for whatever cause honor is due. By so doing, both one’s sect will be helped forward, and other sects benefited; by acting otherwise, one’s own sect will be destroyed in injuring others.—Rock Inscriptions of Asoka. But if others walk not righteously, we ought by righteous dealing to appease them: in this way, … we cause religion everywhere to take deep hold and abide.—Fo-sho-hing-tsan-king. Who is a (true) spiritual teacher? He who, having grasped the essence of things, ever seeks to be of use to other beings. Tell him … I look for no recompense—not even to be born in heaven—but seek … the benefit of men, to bring back those who have gone astray, to enlighten those living in dismal error, to put away all sources of sorrow and pain from the world.—Fo-pen-hing-tsih-king. I consider the welfare of all people as something for which I must work.—Rock Inscriptions of Asoka. Then the man … said to himself: “I will not keep all this treasure to myself; I will share it with others.” Upon this he went to king Brahmadatta, and said: … “Be it known to you I have discovered a treasure, and I wish it to be used for the good of the country.”—Fo-pen-hing-tsih-king. The sorrow of others enters into the hearts of good men as water into the soil.—Story of Haritika. With no selfish or partial joy … they rejoiced.—Fo-sho-hing-tsan-king. If thou see others lamenting, join in their lamentations: if thou hear others rejoicing, join in their joy.—Jitsu-go-kiyo. My son, tell me thy sorrow, that it may become more endurable by participation.—Nagananda. Every variety of living creature I must ever defend from harm.—Ta-chwang-yan-king-lun. To think no evil and do none: on the contrary, to benefit all creatures.—Fo-pen-hing-tsih-king. Let the wise man guard his thoughts, for they are … very artful and rush wheresoever they list.—Dhammapada. When thou seest righteousness, quickly follow it: when thou seest iniquity, instantly flee.—Jitsu-go-kiyo. Like as the lotus is untarnished by the water, so is Nirvana by any evil dispositions.—Questions of King Milinda. May I never, even in a dream, be guilty of theft, adultery, drunkenness, life-slaughter, and untruthfulness.—Attanagalu-vansa. Spotless even as the moon, pure, serene, and undisturbed.—Vasettha-sutta. Practice the most perfect virtue.—Udanavarga. To attain perfection that he may profit others.—Fo-pen-hing-tsih-king. The present is an imperfect existence: … I pray for greater perfection in the next.—Inscription in Temple of Nakhon Vat. Fulfil the perfection of long-suffering; be thou patient under … reproach.—Introduction to Jataka Book. My duty is to bear all the insults which the heretics launch against me.—Buddhaghosa’s Parables. Silently shall I endure abuse, as the elephant in battle endures the arrow sent from the bow.—Dhammapada. Let not the member of Buddha’s order tremble at blame, neither let him puff himself up when praised.—Tuvataka-sutta. The end of the pleasures of sense is as the lightning flash: … what profit, then, in doing iniquity?—Fo-sho-hing-tsan-king. He speaks truth unmixed with falsehood.—Samanna-phala-sutta. There is guilt (calling for repentance) in prevarication.—Patimokkha. He that praises him who should be blamed, or blames him who should be praised, gathers up sin thereby in his mouth.—Kokaliya-sutta. The member of Buddha’s order should abstain from theft, even of a blade of grass.—Mahavagga. From bribery, cheating, fraud, and (all other) crooked ways he abstains.—Tevijja-sutta. The Scripture moveth us, therefore, rather to cut off the hand than to take anything which is not ours.—Sha-mi-lu-i-yao-lio. Let him not, even though irritated, speak harsh words.—Sariputta-sutta. From this day forth, … although much be said against me, I will not feel spiteful, angry, enraged, or morose, nor manifest anger and hatred.—Anguttara-Nikaya. Upright, conscientious and of soft speech, gentle and not proud.—Metta-sutta. Even as the lily lives upon and loves the water, So Upatissa and Kolita likewise, Joined by closest bond of love, If by necessity compelled to live apart, Were overcome by grief and aching heart. (The true friend) forsakes you not in trouble; he will lay down his life for your sake.—Sigalovada-sutta. In grief as well as in joy we are united, In sorrow and in happiness alike. * * * * * That which your heart rejoices in as good, That I also rejoice in and follow. It were better I should die with you, Than … attempt to live where you are not. When first I undertook to obtain wisdom, Then also I took on me to defend (the weak). All living things of whatsoever sort Call forth my compassion and pity. Fault is not to be found unnecessarily—Ta-chwang-yan-king-lun. Judge not thy neighbor.—Siamese Buddhist Maxim. What is it to you … whether another is guilty or guiltless? Come, friend, atone for your own offense.—Mahavagga. Even a king may be full of trouble; but a common man, who is holy, has rest everlasting.—Fo-sho-hing-tsan-king. This world is afflicted with death and decay; therefore the wise do not grieve, knowing the terms of the world.—Salla-sutta. Who that clings to Righteousness should be in fear of death?—Jatakamala. Ye, then, my followers, … give not way … to sorrow; … aim to reach the home where separation cannot come.—Fo-sho-hing-tsan-king. Loving and merciful towards all.—Fo-sho-hing-tsan-king. Filled with universal benevolence.—Fa-kheu-pi-u. A friend to all creatures in the world.—Saddharma-pundarika. Bent on promoting the happiness of all created beings.—Lalita Vistara. Conquer thy greediness for sensual pleasures.—Jatukannimanavapuccha. Therefore should we encourage small desire, that we may have to give to him who needs.—Fo-sho-hing-tsan-king. Justly I seek for riches, and having sought for riches justly, I give of my … justly acquired wealth to one, to two, to three, … to a hundred.—Magha-sutta. They sought their daily gain righteously; no covetous, money-loving spirit prevailed; with pious intent they gave liberally; there was not a thought of any reward.—Fo-sho-hing-tsan-king. There is in charity a proper time and a proper mode.—Fo-sho-hing-tsan-king. Better would it be to swallow a red-hot iron ball than that a bad, unrestrained fellow should live on the charity of the land.—Dhammapada. Our duty to do something, not only for our own benefit, but for the good of those who shall come after us.—Fo-pen-hing-tsih-king. Have respect for the aged as though they were thy father and mother; love the young as thy children or younger brethren.—Jitsu-go-kiyo. All the people were bound close in family love and friendship.—Fo-sho-hing-tsan-king. Happy … is the man that honors his father: he also that honors his mother is happy.—Udanavarga. How should I be capable of leaving thee in thy calamity?… Whatever fate may be thine I am pleased with it.—Jatakamala. He is my husband. I love and revere him with all my heart, and therefore am determined to share his fate. Kill me first, … and afterwards do to him as you list.—Fo-pen-hing-tsih-king. A heart bound by affection does not mind imminent peril. Worse than death to such a one is the sorrow which the distress of a friend inflicts.—Jatakamala. This good man, moved by pity, gives up his life for another, as though it were but a straw.—Nagananda. Sprinkle water on the seeds of virtue.—Story of Pratiharyya. The fool thinks himself alone and commits sin. But I know of no lonely place at all…. Of a bad action my “Self” is a witness far more sharp-sighted than any other person.—Jatakamala. What has been designated “name” and “family” … is but a term.—Vasettha-sutta. Reverence … is due to righteous conduct.—Fo-sho-hing-tsan-king. The wise man … regards with reverence all who deserve reverence, without distinction of person.—Ta-chwang-yan-king-lun. For if virtue flags and folly rules, what reverence can there be … for a high name or boast of prowess, inherited from former generations?—Fo-sho-hing-tsan-king. Fools of little understanding have themselves for their greatest enemies, for they do evil deeds which cannot but bear bitter fruit.—Dhammapada. There is not a spot upon earth, neither in the sky, neither in the sea, neither … in the mountain-clefts, where an (evil) deed does not bring trouble (to the doer).—Udanavarga. Surely if living creatures saw the consequence of all their evil deeds, … with hatred would they turn and leave them, fearing the ruin following.—Fo-sho-hing-tsan-king. Exercising love towards the infirm.—Fa-kheu-pi-us. Ever inspired by pity and love to men.—Fo-sho-hing-tsan-king. He lived for the good of mankind.—Jatakamala. Whatsoever living beings there are, feeble or strong, small or large, seen or not seen, may all creatures be happy-minded.—Metta-sutta. Yield not (one moment) to the angry impulse.—Fo-sho-hing-tsan-king. Overcome anger by love.—Dhammapada. A wise man never resents with passion the abuse of the foolish—Ta-chwang-yan-king-lun. In agreement with all men, and hurting nobody, … he, as far as possible, does good to all.—Fo-pen-hing-tsih-king. Reverently practicing the four gracious acts— Benevolence, charity, humanity, love; Doing all for the good of men, and that they in turn may benefit others. They also, resigning the deathless bliss within their reach, Worked the welfare of mankind in various lands. What man is there who would be remiss in doing good to mankind? —Quoted by Max Muller. Buddhist missionaries. He identified himself with all beings—Jatakamala. Because the dove fears the hawk, With fluttering pennons she comes to seek my protection. Though she cannot speak with her mouth, Yet through fear her eyes are moist. Now, therefore, I will extend (to this poor creature) My own protection and defense. How indifferent he was to his own welfare!… How intolerant of the suffering of others!—Jatakamala. In every condition, high or low, we find folly and ignorance (and men), carelessly following the dictates of … passion.—Fo-sho-hing-tsan-king. Neither is it right to judge men’s character by outward appearances.—Ta-chwang-yan-king-lun. The body may wear the ascetic’s garb, the heart be immersed in worldly thoughts: … the body may wear a worldly guise, the heart mount high to things celestial.—Fo-sho-hing-tsan-king. Full of truth and compassion and mercy and long-suffering.—Jataka. Uprightness is his delight.—Tevijja-sutta. Making … virtue always his first aim.—Fa-kheu-pi-u. An example for all the earth.—Fo-sho-hing-tsan-king. What he hears he repeats not there, to raise a quarrel against the people here.—Tevijja-sutta. He injures none by his conversation.—Samanna-phala-sutta. Walk in the path of duty, do good to your brethren, and work no evil towards them.—Avadana Sataka. Aiming to curb the tongue, … aiming to benefit the world.—Fo-sho-hing-tsan-king. Intent upon benefiting your fellow-creatures.—Katha Sarit Sagara. Health is the greatest of gifts, contentment the best of riches.—Dhammapada. If thou be born in the poor man’s hovel, yet have wisdom, then wilt thou be like the lotus-flower growing out of the mire.—Jitsu-go-kiyo. He that is rich but is not contented endures the pain of poverty.—Fo-sho-hing-tsan-king. The words of Buddha, even when stern, yet … as full of pity as the words of a father to his children.—Questions of King Milinda. Overcoming all enemies by the force (of his love).—Fo-sho-hing-tsan-king. How great his pity and his love toward those who opposed his claims, neither rejoicing in their defeat, nor yet exulting in his own success!—Fo-sho-hing-tsan-king. The Buddha has mercy even on the meanest thing.—Cullavagga. He that … would wait upon me, let him wait on the sick.—Mahavagga. The Buddha, O king, magnifies not the offering of gifts to himself, but rather to whosoever … is deserving.—Questions of King Milinda. If you desire to honor Buddha, follow the example of his patience and long-suffering.—Fo-sho-hing-tsan-king. Radiant with heavenly pity, lost in care For those he knew not, save as fellow-lives. —Sir Edwin Arnold. Who that hears of him, but yearns with love?—Fo-sho-hing-tsan-king.

My wonderful oldest sister, Tika, invited me on a Portland Foodie Walking Tour today. After the long walk and samples of some of the great variety of edible treats available, I gained a rather large hunger that could only be sated by ramen. About two weeks ago, I read Emily Burnham’s review of Pai Men Miyake and it just so happened that I ended up there for a late lunch, accompanied by my boyfriend Paul. It was about fifty degrees Fahrenheit in downtown Portland — but the warm, moist air of the noodle shop immediately fogged up my glasses. As they cleared, I saw a very inviting ramen-ya with a generous bar, comfortable seating for couples and groups, and some of the coolest wall materials I’ve seen. The waitstaff was quiet, yet attentive, and soon Paul and I had settled on the following: - Appetizer: Pork Gyoza and Pork Buns - Main: Paitan Ramen The pork buns ($9 for two) were served first. The unctuous pieces of braised pork belly floated on delicate steamed buns with a slightly hot pepper relish on top. I’ve not had pork belly so rich in flavor and so amazingly tender. The whole plate was consumed in less than a minute and I could have had four more, but I knew I needed to keep room for the coming bowl of ramen. I enjoy gyoza, making them and consuming them, and they’re a good measure of the sensibility of the chef. This set was perfectly constructed and cooked — the sear on the bottom was uniform and crispy and the tops were pleated professionally. The taste, though, was understated. I like my gyoza to have a bit of a gingery punch, these gyoza were mild enough to require the use of a dipping sauce. Perhaps the chef intended these to be a counterpoint to the over-the-top richness of the pork buns and, if that is true, they provided that counterpoint appropriately. Or perhaps the gyoza were the counterpoint to the ramen. Oh! The ramen! The paitan ramen ($9.50) arrived in wide mouthed bowls allowing the scent of pork and chicken to waft out in waves of wondrous goodness. The broth was thick with well emulsified fat and surrounded a generous helping of noodles, topped with a chilled, soy-marinated hard boiled egg, pork belly, spring onions, and nori. As I rearranged the components of the ramen with my chopsticks, it was easy to appreciate the thought that went into composing this dish. The broth, as noted above, was even and the perfect temperature for immediate consumption. The yolk of the egg stood out, a bright orange yellow, in the surrounding drab white. And the pork belly seemed to slowly melt while I watched. Lastly, the noodles — kinky and yellow and in reasonable lengths — were exactly as they should be: firm to the caress of the chopsticks and al dente in the mouth. A great slurping commenced as the noodles became fodder for my eager mouth. Yes, these are what good noodles should be. Somehow, they transport the broth’s essence along with them, like… like… well, like something awesome. Maybe it’s a kind of capillary action or velvet highway. Anyway, the noodles were great! The egg, chilled and waiting, provided a little break from the slurping and the pork belly continued to exude a serene porkiness into the bowl. Paul struggled with the noodles for a bit, but once he switched to using the provided soup spoon, he had much better luck. I finished my bowl quickly, adding chili garlic paste ($1.50) half way through to mix things up. I didn’t get as much heat from the paste as I expected, but I received a generous portion on the side and could likely have reached a fiery pinnacle if I mixed it all in at once. Will I return to Pai Men Mikayke? Yes, certainly. There are more variations of ramen and soba to try and a variety of appetizers that definitely require sampling. It’s great to know that delicious ramen is just around the corner in Portland.

Everything bagel-lovers are going to fall in LOVE with these soft everything bagel breadsticks! The dough is no-knead and made conveniently overnight for easy baking the next day. The bagel freak in me is going a teensy bit insane today, guys. Sarah 101: I have a huge freaking thing for bagels. Don’t ask me how […] These overnight refrigerator bread and butter pickles are made ENTIRELY in the fridge overnight and you won’t believe the amazing sweet, tangy flavors that develop. Make a big batch! This recipe is brought to you courtesy of my mother’s numerous-and-simultaneously-exploding cucumber plants. Right now it’s literally us vs. cukes in a battle to use them […] Classic cafe-style cold brew coffee is SO unbelievably easy to make at home you’ll never go back to buying it! This overnight cold-brew coffee is truly a keeper recipe for any coffee lover! Meet the current obsession amongst all the coffee-drinkers in my family, you guys. The coffee I’m personally gonna be gulping on repeat […] The dough for this soft, authentic Parmesan herb foccacia is made the night before and no kneading required! You won’t believe how much amazing flavor develops in the dough overnight. AKA, the most life-changing bread you will ever have in your life. Seriously, Parmesan + herbs + OVERNIGHT + NO KNEAD. Seriously, don’t ask me […] Caramel macchiato coffee-lovers will be instantly hooked on these caramel macchiato banana overnight oats! So easy to prep the night before and a quick on-the-go breakfast. I’m sorry, are you telling me that you DON’T have your caramel macchiato stuffed into your overnight oats??? Breakfast life must be rough over in your neck of the […] Super-creamy and layered with vanilla greek yogurt and tons of mixed berries, these mixed berry overnight oats are a CINCH to throw together the night before and a perfect morning boost. Legit been eating nothing else besides these mixed berry overnight oats for like a week now, guys. The obsession with lazy overnight breakfasts is […] French toast made SO easy and personal-sized! This caramel apple french toast bake is made the night before for ultimate ease the next morning! The secret is in the homemade caramel sauce. Really, the whole “secret” is that this is just a french toast bake from your wildest DREAMS. >>> Repeat after me: CARAMEL.freaking.APPLE french toast bake. Made overnight and mini-sized. Did I mention the caramel? Any other week morning breakfasts are looking pretty wimpy and sad right about now, yes? Literally. ANY other breakfast is gonna look sad if it’s sitting next to these freaking awesome french toast bakes. Gimme a HECK YES for all the mini foods covered in caramel sauce!! Caramelized apples and cinnamon roll flavors take over your morning oatmeal! These overnight oats are unbelievably simple to make and so amazing for a grab-and-go breakfast, you’ll be making them all week! I’m thinking it’s time to get real as far as fall breakfasts go, you guys. Yesterday we did pumpkin bread for the first […] Light and unbelievably crispy yeast waffles where the batter is made overnight, cooked in the morning, then topped with a warm pineapple pina colada topping and plenty of whipped cream! So I can put your name down for 200 dozen pina colada waffles, yes guys? I’m positive I just heard an assortment of HECK YEAAAAHS, so […] Bananas and chai spice are a match made in heaven in these SUPER-easy overnight oats.—The tastiest and the easiest way to start the day! YOU GUYS! My boring, hum-drum morning oatmeal just got a huge-ish and desperately-needed kick in the pants. In the direction of chai. And banana. And once again, the word overnight because […] Classic sticky buns covered in an irresistible caramel-y pecan topping make the absolute best weekend breakfast ever! You won’t believe how good these are. So three things, guys… One, happy, happy, haaaaaaaappy FRIDAY! Two, this has been the longest week ever. Seriously, it crawled. Three, I brought along celebratory sticky buns because we all made it in one piece […] You’ve just found your new favorite breakfast! This simple overnight blueberry french toast bake is unbelievably moist inside, loaded with berries and covered every inch in an irresistible buttery streusel! The time has come for me to reveal my latest breakfast obsession to you guys. (!!!) Step aside strawberry shortcake in pancake form. Move over perfect […] Swirled with a citrus-y orange-cinnamon sugar filling and drizzled with tons of cream cheese icing, these bright, cheerful cinnamon rolls are ideal for any spring brunch! Well, it happened. I finally found a cinnamon roll so honkin’ huge and wonderful, I met my match. A worthy opponent, but never too big to take down Sarah […]

Geung, Khing, Shoga Asia, South America, and the United States. Keep cool, 40°F, and dry. Do not mist Ginger has so many uses and flavors both fresh and dried. Fresh ginger should be peeled down to the light brown moist meat. It can then be crushed, chopped or sliced into meat dishes or marinades. Its flavor is clear, spicy and robust. It is also available pickled, young and crystallized. Dried forms are best suited for baked goods.

This post brought to you by Campbell’s Soup Company . The content and opinions expressed below are that of Hungry Happenings. Football fans will cheer when you serve these fun French Fry Footballs and you’ll be happy to see how easy they are to make using potatoes and Swanson® Broth. For those of you who are looking for a fun side dish to serve before the big game, these cool looking fries are perfect. Imagine serving up some juicy burgers, brats or BBQ alongside a generous helping of these crispy little football shaped French fries. What football fan wouldn’t love them? Making these fries is pretty simple, but I found the trick to keeping them crispy on the outside, fluffy on the inside, and full of flavor. I blanched them in some Swanson® Chicken Broth before pan frying them. Wow, what a difference it makes. To make your own batch of Football French Fries, you’ll want to slice russet potatoes about 1/4 of an inch thick then use a small oval cookie cutter to create the football shaped potatoes. I actually bent the ends of my oval cutter so that it had a better football shape. Then to really make the potatoes look like footballs, you’ll want to use a toothpick to carve lines that look like the laces. Dig deep enough that you see the laces well, but not so deep that you cut through the potato slice. Being these fries and fairly thin and pretty small they could have easily gotten very dried out, but by blanching them in some Swanson® Chicken Broth first, they really stayed moist and tender. Plus, being the broth is made with chicken, vegetables, herbs and spices, it really adds a wonderful flavor to the fries. Have you seen the new containers of Swanson® Broth? They have screw top caps which close tightly so you can store the box in the refrigerator without worrying about spilling broth all over and they have measuring strips along the side so you easy judge how much broth to pour into the pan. I used about 2 cups of broth so that I could fill my pan and cover the potatoes completely. You’ll want to add the broth to the pan, then add the potatoes and bring it to a boil. Then lower the heat to low and allow the potatoes to cook for 10-15 minutes until firm but tender. Remove the potatoes and pat them dry with paper towels. Melt a tablespoon of butter along with 1 1/2 tablespoons oil in a large skillet then add one layer of potatoes. Cook for about 4 minutes on each side until golden brown. Remove and set on a paper towel. Sprinkle with salt and they are ready to serve. If you want to make these in advance of your party, just reheat them at 400 degrees Fahrenheit until warmed through, about for 6-10 minutes. I was given product samples and compensated by Campbell’s Soup Company in order to create and share this recipe with you. I hope you give it a try and let me know how you like these fun Football French Fries. Be sure to check out other delicious Campbell’s recipes at Campell’s Kitchen. You can follow Campbell’s Swanson Broth on Facebook and Instagram @SwansonBroths. - 2 large russet potatoes - 2 cups Swanson® Chicken Broth - 2 tablespoon butter - 3 tablespoons vegetable oil - salt to season Peel and slice potato into 1/4 inch thick slices. Cut into small 1 1/2 - 2 inch long footballs (ovals.) Use a toothpick to carve the football laces in each potato. Pour Swanson® Chicken Broth into 3 quart pan. Heat on high until the broth comes to a boil then lower heat to low and simmer for 10-15 minutes until the potatoes are tender. Remove and pat potatoes dry with a paper towel. Melt 1 tablespoon butter and 1 1/2 tablespoons oil in a 12 inch skillet set over medium heat. Add a single layer of potatoes to the pan and cook for about 4 minutes on each side until golden brown. Season with salt immediately. Repeat, heating the remaining butter and oil and frying the remaining potatoes. If needed, reheat in a 400 degree oven for 6-10 minutes. be sure to check out my Football Party Food ideas.

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The patrons and designers have completed the first drafts of the The Lost City of Kadralhu patronage project, and now is a great time to jump on if you’re curious but haven’t yet signed up. This week, we present pages from Logan Bonner, Michael Furlanetto, Tracy Hurley, and Quinn Murphy. We tried to choose sections that were as spoiler-free as possible, but if you’re planning to play this adventure, you should probably not peek. Now, we present a few details of the tainted plant malsalix. Originally found in the dark recesses of the fey realms, the malsalix is well known in certain circles for its penchant for stealing abilities. Since its introduction to the waterworks, the plant has grown quite comfortable in the dark environs… Spores:The plant begins its life as small spores. The spores interfere with the ability to remember things, especially positive emotions such as friendship and love. Slime: When the spores settle in a nice moist place, they grow into sheets of interwoven strands. These slimes can steal abilities, such as powers. Seedlings: The strands grow thicker and take on a wood-like appearance. They stretch upward, and the plant appears much more humanoid and can even walk upright. Mature Plant: The original vines harden, and the number of tendrils increases. Elder Plant: If the plant lives long enough, it can join with others of its kind to create an elder. Their vines intertwine, and they use each other as support to grow much larger. Clearing the Taint (Skill Challenge) Level: 15 (6,000 XP) Complexity: 5 (12 before 3) Kadralhu’s water is full of spores and other bits of the tainted plants. Unless the water is cleaned, the plants always re-establish themselves, and the madness will, eventually, strike again. As the PCs travel through the city and deal with the malsalix infestation, their actions determine if they eradicate the plant or just buy themselves some time. Approach 1: Filter the water (max 4 successes). The waterworks has a series of filters. Excess plant material clogged these filters, and the crash broke a few. Fixed filters help the PCs clear the water. Primary skills: Arcana, Dungeoneering, Thievery Arcana (DC 15)—You know the filters use arcane magic to work. Dungeoneering (DC 22)—You find materials to help fix the filters. Thievery (DC 22)—You apply the fixes. Secondary skills: History, Thievery History (DC 20)—You recall a contraption or story from elsewhere that may help. Gives a +2 bonus to a primary skill. Approach 2: Defeat mature plants. Special—Each successful encounter against one or more mature plants counts as 1 success. Special—The encounter against the elder plant counts as 4 successes. PCs can use the successes from that battle to buy back failures. If they do not defeat the elder plant but are successful in the overall challenge, count it as a failure but with 8 successes, and tell them which faction is planning this. Special—Deciding to help or ignore certain NPCs of the lost city counts as successes or failures. In particular, see the Waterworks Master and the Kidnapped Artificer sections. Success: The plant is eradicated from Kadralhu. Failure: Effect determined by number of successes: 8 or More Successes—A faction recognizes what the PCs are doing and attempts to save part of the plant for re-infection in 1d4+12 months. 6–8 Successes—A plant is successful at leaving its spores behind. Re-infection will occur in 1d4+6 months. Less than 6 Successes—Some of the plants find a crevice to hide in and will re-infect the city in 1d4 months. Trying again: If they try again after re-infection, they keep half of their previous successes as a starting point. Skilled artificers and arcane casters use the malsalix plant to craft certain magical items. Two of the best known are paralyzing nets and memory pots. Woven from malsalix vines, these nets both immobilize their victims and remove the ability to think clearly. Level: 16 (+4) Price: 45,000 gp Enhancement: Attack rolls and damage rolls Critical: +1d6 damage per plus Property: On a hit, the target is immobilized (save ends). Power (Encounter): While entangled in the net, the creature cannot use any powers other than basic attacks. These ordinary-looking clay pots hide malsalix slime, allowing the user to steal powers from afar. Level: 14 (+3) Price: 800 gp Property: The user of a memory pot must first create a psychic connection with the pot, requiring 5 minutes, and can be connected to only one pot at a time. Power (Consumable): Standard Action. Make an attack: Ranged 5/10; Targets one creature; +17 vs. Will; on a hit, steal one power from the creature. Determine the highest level of power that may be stolen using the attack die roll and these guidelines: Natural 2–14—At-will power. Natural 15–19—Encounter power. Natural 20—Daily power. You gain the stolen power and use it with the statistics for the power from the originating creature. After an extended rest, the ability returns to the originating creature. Miss—Area burst 1, centered on the creature; +17 vs. Reflex; on a hit, the target… Find your way to The Lost City of Kadralhu today by becoming a patron—and perhaps a playtester as well!

Negative Example: Mr X crooked his wrist and slumped his head sideways, crashing it into the open palm of his right hand. Positive Example: Mr X came around from behind his desk walking boldly towards his visitor. The barrier of furniture had been dissolved and Mr X met the gaze of the salesman with a disarming confidence. Body language can betray or confirm your words. An employee can leave his hopes of a pay rise at the door if during the review he sits slouched with his legs strewn out under his boss’ desk or even in more discreet ways fails to present himself as assertive and capable. Fortunately one can boost their chances with a few tips. 1) Don’t touch your neck The neck is a vulnerable area. So don’t touch it. If you are rubbing the back of your neck, lightly pinching your Adam’s apple or doing other inventive neck activity this is likely to lead someone to mistrust you or communicate that obvious fact that you are uncomfortable. You will be unable to strong arm that cockney car salesman as he will jump at the signal his helpless prey has just fired off. 2) Firm handshake This is essential. There are few things far worse, excluding flatulence, than a flimsy moist handshake. Bill Clinton claimed he always endeavored to meet the web between the thumb and index finger. This is usually a reliable technique. However a firm handshake is not a vice grip. It is about being expressive not aggressive (not physically at least) 3) Mr. Mime Professor Michael Wheeler from Harvard Business School observed that “after two or more people have been in each other’s presence for just a few minutes, their behavior begins to subtly converge…breathing patterns and heart rates sync up, and they also tend to mimic each other’s posture and hand gestures.” Emulation is a sign of flattery. It shows the other party you are at ease and are subconsciously in agreement with them. This is a useful negotiating tool as often it is about aligning your interests with that of another. During the presidential debate between Barack Obama and Mitt Romney both men made use of physical contact. Obama shook hands with Romney and placed his other hand high on Romney’s shoulder. Analysts speculate that this is a gesture of control. It is also one of affection and can melt the corporate armour of the suit jacket. We touch a persons arm to guide them, to show pity, to reassure them. By doing the same in negotiation we tap into all such associations at once. To be a good negotiator implies control over a situation. You cannot be in a position of control if you’re twiddling your thumbs, licking your lips whilst impatiently waggling your feet. It will put the other person on edge and scream incompetence. Relax and sit calmly. If you’re going to make any gestures, time them and execute them with conviction. If you’re sitting down, sit up and look interested. While you might not need to lunge across the table attacking the space with your elbows it is equally bad to tilt your head back and gaze at the ceiling. If you’re standing, pin those shoulders back to avoid the slouch, pronounce that chest and revert back to a primitive form of masculinity. Just don’t bash on your chest or make any gorilla roars. You’re a warm approachable and honest person. Well if you’re not that, at least this should help create that image. One part of business is about transparency, it is simply not desirable to enter any negotiations with a deceitful agent, and people prefer to be assured of credibility. A smile goes a long way here: it tells the other party that you are at ease, unstressed, and personable. In turn they may feel at ease and negotiations can continue untrammeled. A last note on body language is that all the above can never look too contrived. Body language must be natural otherwise you risk walking around like a creepy robot or unnerving people with mistimed touchy feely gestures. This article was supplied by Josh Hervall, a keen blogger and negotiation enthusiast. He writes for www.thegappartnership.com, experts in Business Negotiation Training.

Solar Sapphires, Planetary Antipathies, and Substitutions The Picatrix, De Radiis Stellarum, and Three Books of Occult Philosophy are closest to broad textbooks of this tradition of astrological magic, but they are not meant to be used entirely by themselves. Both canonical texts of astrological magic and their partners, the manuals of traditional astrology, repeatedly state that the student must go beyond a mere rote understanding of formulae and considerations. The following step is the internalization of celestial functions, then a series of flashes of insight revealing why things are as they arranged, and finally the integration of the practitioner into their proper spiritual hierarchy by the attainment of Perfect Nature and the maximization of their unique potential. Authors are quite evasive about the aforementioned epiphanies for good reason; they allow teachers to recognize genuine insights arising from their better students that stand apart from the shallow mimicry that is the hallmark of pseudo-intellectualism, and they protect the secrets of the art from immature people who are at high risk of abusing it. The Science of Images has reputed power within it so vast that it can collapse entire civilizations if deployed with precision and ill intentions. Based on some of my experiences, I am certain that this is no idle boast. Some of the difficulty is deliberate in these texts, because of the gravity of that power falling into the wrong hands. It was the reasonable hope of the guardians and transmitters of this tradition that intellectual mastery developed roughly in tandem with emotional stability and personal responsibility. Nevertheless, this has led to an incredibly steep learning curve for mastery of Scholastic Image Magic for modern students. Some of this is accidental and needs to be remedied, and some of this is very appropriate. As an example of the latter, it’s critically important that a student be fully immersed in the traditional worldview, and at least provisionally set aside the modern worldview, so they may navigate deeply within this paradigm. This commentary is, I hope, an additional guide through one of the more important winding passages deeper into the heart of this complex system of magic and mysticism. Let us begin with something highly counterintuitive and use it as a pretext to dive into some of the more practical and mystical secrets of the operations of celestial magic. Solar Sapphire Talismans During the latter Solar talismanic election I covered in the preceding post, I alluded to a second set of talismans which were created at the same time. In addition to the bloodstones, I created two sapphire talismanic rings and a loose gemstone sapphire talisman. The herbs when applicable and suffumigations were identical. One of the rings is mine, and one ring and the loose gemstone will eventually be sold to clients or given to friends. The inspiration for this talismanic project came from Eric Purdue’s masterful new translation of Cornelius Agrippa’s Book One of Three Books of Occult Philosophy. Agrippa frequently has long lists of gemstones, materials and animals which belong to the various celestial hierarchies but less frequently highlights the particular powers attributed to each within that particular hierarchy’s context. Agrippa gave very special attention to the gemstone he calls heliotrope that we believe is modern bloodstone, but also gave great attention to a gemstone called hyacinth in the J.F. translation. Eric Purdue, I believe correctly, provisionally identified hyacinth as modern sapphire. And with it come a list of powers which only apply in a Solar context; they are only activated when made into Solar talismans. “Sapphires also have a solar virtue against poisons and pestilential vapors. When carried [the person] is rendered safe and acceptable, brings wealth and talent, and strengthens the heart. When held in the mouth, [sapphires] exceedingly cheer the mind.” –TBOC, Agrippa I:23, Eric Purdue trans. Before I break down the rather long and fascinating list of powers attributed to Solar sapphire talismans, I must make mention of something of which most traditional (and Vedic) astrologers and readers of medieval lapidaries are quite aware. Sapphires have an extremely ancient and strong association with the planet Saturn, vastly more than the Sun. The association between sapphires and Saturn is so strong that due to what appears to be a confusion with lapis lazuli, the latter is associated with Saturn among other planets—sapphire appears to mean blue stone in Sanskrit and lapis lazuli means the same in Latin. Though the Sun and Saturn do rule a few things in common, such as the metal gold and kingship, they are in most other ways complete opposites. There’s nothing obviously Solar about sapphires; they are hard and usually dark stones—an obvious choice for the harsh, implacable, and dim Greater Malefic. Materials having multiple rulerships are not unusual, but this instance stands apart. The Secrets of Antipathy So is it a mistake? I’m quite sure it isn’t. It’s a phenomenal example of celestial antipathy which is described in Picatrix in more general terms about talismans which attract and repel animals. “The effects upon animals are twofold—that is, one is to gather them and increase their number, and the other is to disperse and repel them. These are appropriate for different times, as they involve different motions—that is, there is a time for gathering and growth, and a time for dispersing and repelling. This may be considered under the heading of the opposition of degrees. In stones a certain supreme secret is hidden, that is, when any animal—that is, if you want it to depart—is hot in its nature, the stone ought to be cold; if the animal is moist, the stone ought to be dry, and vice versa. From this it should be understood that if you wish vipers and wasps to flee, the work ought to be done in cornelian and diamond and the like; but if they are cold by nature, such as scorpions, beetles, flies, lice, and things similar to them, work with hot stones such as malachite and crystal, and in bronze and gold and the like. “This is for the working to make them flee. Workings to draw and increase them ought to be done with things that are harmonious and pertinent to them, as in working with vipers, you should work with gold and bronze and similar things. All this happens because of the harmony of complexion, the direction of movement, and the diversity of conjunctions and substances. The figure and form ought to be in the form and figure of the animal for which it is made, as a figure for mice in the shape of a mouse, one for serpents in the shape of a serpent, or one for scorpions in the shape of a scorpion.” –Picatrix IV:4, Greer-Warnock trans. When Picatrix uses phrases like “a supreme secret” it’s not just talking about talismans that act as mosquito repellant. It’s an attempt to draw the discerning reader to a very important general principle that can be applied to a much wider set of circumstances. Picatrix uses language like this in other sections, such as the chapter on the manufacture of the thirty-six talismans of the Faces, to hint at a fairly radical reinvention of Neoplatonic cosmology that I have lectured upon previously. It is a test, an attempt to challenge the reader to learn a deeper lesson that is both mystical and extremely useful. One of the concepts Picatrix describes elsewhere is what it sometimes calls reception; the capacity of a material to absorb celestial rays of a particular type. Some materials are receptive to the rays of many hierarchies. Emerald is receptive to Spica, Jupiter, Mercury and Moon. Silver is highly receptive to nearly every hierarchy because of the virtually ubiquitous and special role of the Moon in talismanic elections. Others are mostly inert, like clay and to a lesser extent human flesh. (Clay talismans really do not work, and in spite of the obvious allure talismanic tattoos aren’t especially viable.) Parallel to reception is temperament or temperateness; in modern expressions, the capacity for something to manifest normalcy in contrast with manifestations which are abnormal and disruptive. Jupiter is the most temperate planet and usually signifies positive normalcy and health, and Mars is probably the least temperate planet and usually signifies disruption and injury. Materials belonging to each of these hierarchies often share these attributes, but can increase or decrease them or channel them in a particular direction. Related to the preceding are sympathy and antipathy; some materials attract and repel species based upon their inner natures. But what Picatrix is hinting at is that it isn’t just animals that can be attracted by gemstones of one type and repelled by another, but also types of people, and finally even types of events. That’s where it gets really interesting. And that is how we return to sapphires. Analyzing the Solar Virtues of Sapphires Solar sapphire talismans have the following powers: - They neutralize poisons. - They protect against contagious diseases i.e. “pestilential vapors.” - They render the bearer safe from harm. - They render the bearer inoffensive and pleasant. - They attract riches. - They magnify skills. - They grant courage and health or “strengthen the heart.” - They act as antidepressants, especially if sucked upon. Now you can tell why I prize these talismans at least as much as the bloodstone ones I created along with them. Fame, glory, constancy, invisibility, and restored youth are really great but the eight powers listed above are possibly even more valuable for the average person. What’s even more interesting is what these powers tell us about sympathy and antipathy in celestial magic. Generally speaking, the Sun is not the planet one would expect a cure for poisons from; that’s more often associated with Jupiter. The Sun is nearly as temperate as Jupiter and they both grant vigorous health and presumably a resistance to contagions. The Sun often can accomplish the works of Mars and vice versa, so the Sun can protect—especially from witchcraft and evil spirits. The Sun co-rules gold, which for most of history was currency and thus can attract riches. The increase of skills may make sense because the Sun is fiery and fire quickens as it illuminates. The Sun definitely can grant courage and often is associated with the heart. Finally, the Sun can certainly act as an antidepressant; St. John’s wort has been known to be ruled by the Sun since at least medieval times because of this property. However, in spite of a temperate planet endowing a quality of normalcy, the Sun is less associated with blending in than standing out; often in a highly aggressive manner. The Sun is the king, and the king likes to conquer. I believe there’s something else at work here: - Saturn rules poisons - Saturn rules contagious diseases. - Saturn rules infirmity. - Saturn rules ugliness and things which are essentially unpleasant. - Saturn rules poverty and desperation, in spite of the co-rulership of gold. - Saturn rules senility and stupefaction. - Saturn rules fear and cowardice. - Saturn rather famously rules melancholia. I think what makes far more sense is that the function of a Solar sapphire talisman is to ward against many of the negative attributes of Saturn, because of the fundamental disagreement of natures between the hierarchies of the Sun and Saturn. The Sun is hot; Saturn is cold. The Sun governs all that is light and bright; Saturn rules all that is dark and shadowy. It’s a fantastic example of how one can use the materials of a dissimilar hierarchy to neutralize the negative effects of a planet or star. And it’s one of the greater secrets of this system of magic. The seven traditional planets often have peculiar relationships with each other, as illustrated in the 45 aphorisms that are said to be derived from the Secretum Secretorum: “38. The Sun abhors those things that pertain to Saturn, and the things that pertain to the Sun are abhorrent to Saturn.” –Picatrix IV:4 There’s a long list of substitutions and antipathies in this chapter that are less pertinent, but must be memorized to attain mastery in this art. There are no shortcuts on this one. This system of planetary pairings appears in the passages on planetary petitions as well. “If you find yourself in contemplation and sorrow, or in melancholy or grave illness, in anything just named, or in any thing that has already been mentioned as belonging to Saturn, and you ask for something that belongs to his nature, you may seek it from him in the manner we describe below, and you may also help yourself in your petition by means of Jupiter. The essence of all these petitions is that you should not seek anything from any planet unless it belongs to his dominion… “Seek from Mars what is consistent with his nature, such as petitions against soldiers, officials, fighters, and those who busy themselves with warlike acts; and on behalf of friends of kings, and those who destroy homes and citizens, and do evil to humanity, killers, executioners, those who work with fire or in places such as stables, litigators, shepherds, thieves, companions on the road, liars, traitors, and the like. Similar, ask him concerning infirmities of the body from the groin downwards, and also for phlebotomy, accumulation of gas, and the like. In these latter petitions you may also help yourself with Venus, for the nature of Venus dissolves what is closed up by Mars, and repairs what he damages… “Seek from Venus all things that pertain to her, such as petitions of women, boys, and girls, daughters, and generally everything pertaining to the love of women and carnal copulation with them, art, vocal and instrumental music, telling jokes, and all those who give themselves over to worldly pleasures, those who engage in vices, male and female servants, brides and grooms, mothers, friends, sisters, and all those similar to them, and in these petitions you may also help yourself with Mars.” –Picatrix III:7 It also should be observed at this point that Jupiter and Saturn are oppositional in nature but are (slightly counterintuitively) “friends” with each other. The same is true of the hierarchies of Mars and Venus. The cliché of opposites attracting is reflected in celestial symmetries or harmonies. I believe that this system of substitutions using planets of oppositional nature but mutual amity goes even further than what Picatrix states explicitly. It says that Jupiter can substitute for Saturn but not the reverse; it may be a somewhat reasonable assumption, however. To learn more about planetary substitution, we must look elsewhere. For that, we turn our attention to the other Luminary: the Moon. The Moon Serves the Sun In Picatrix II:10 there’s a wonderful miscellany of planetary talismanic recipes, one of which I’ve made but never quite understood until fairly recently. “If, under the influence of the Sun, you write the figures below in a sedina stone with the Sun rising in the first face of Leo, whoever carries this stone will be protected against the lunar illnesses that come from the combustion of the Moon.” Combustion (a close conjunction of a planet with the Sun) is deemed to be the worst planetary affliction according to William Lilly and is generally accepted as such in traditional astrology, with some uncommon exceptions. The combustion of the Moon is especially dire; it often signifies death and destruction in elections, and a variety of challenging health concerns in natal charts. The more conventional suggestion would be to use a talisman of an afflicted planet in a person’s natal chart as a remedy, but here we see something very different. Here the suggestion is to double-down on the influence of the Sun. It seems counterintuitive because the Sun is overwhelming the native’s Moon, but it is logical if the Sun and the Moon have a similar relationship as Jupiter and Saturn have, and Mars and Venus mutually share in the petitional instructions cited above. Indications that this is the case between the Sun and Moon are scattered throughout Picatrix. (As I am writing this, Echo & The Bunnymen’s “The Killing Moon” just began to play on Pandora. Everything is connected.) “The Nabatean sages have said that the power and works of the heavens and stars are from the Sun originally, and this is because they see and understand that the Moon helps him (that is, as much as is in her power), while the Sun does not need her effects, nor those of the other planets; and similarly, the five other planets follow the Sun in their effects and obey and are humbled by him, and proceed in their aforementioned effects according to the dispositions of the Sun. In the same way, according to their opinion, all their effects are primarily rooted in the Sun, and the other six planets help him by their effects. Similarly, the fixed stars are the Sun’s handmaidens, and serve, obey, and are humbled by him, and while they help him with their effects, this is not because of any need that he has of them.” –Picatrix III:8 “Our sages say likewise that the virtue of the fifth quality [the Moon in a perfected conjunction with the Sun] has a similar effect to the effect of the Sun, and this is a very great thing and a noble quality. They say that all composite bodies receive from this the virtues that they ought to have, nor should it be understood from the foregoing that the Moon causes virtues and workings differing from those of the Sun; rather, the Moon reveals the Sun’s influence and brings forth works accomplished by the Sun; nor do these appear until the Moon manifests those things that were previously concealed, and illuminates what had previously been in obscurity.” –Picatrix II:3 One of the ways Picatrix conceals secrets of talismanic magic is by describing electional considerations and the composition of talismans and suffumigations in what superficially appear to be abstract cosmological relationships. To a person immersed in the worldview espoused by the author, ultimately there is no difference between these things; or at least there is a profound sympathy. What Picatrix is saying here is pretty radical. While most talismanic and petitional elections depend strongly upon the condition of the Moon and to some extent the planet on or ruling the Ascendant, if a major significator in the election is the Sun the role of every other planet is greatly diminished. The manifestation might be subtler with a weak Moon, however. In theory, one could create a benevolent Solar talisman even if the Moon was afflicted catastrophically. I personally wouldn’t take that chance unless it were an emergency, but in the earlier of the two Sun in Aries elections I described in the last post the Moon was slightly afflicted. It is because of Picatrix that I felt this was inconsequential. This is a special case regarding the Sun and the Sun only. Tropical astrology is not heliocentric; it is geocentric. But it is what I call heliophilic. It gives a very special significance to the role of the Sun, and it has powers unique among all the planets. It is not merely the strongest planet—something seldom stated in canonical texts because it really is taken for granted—but it has a central role in the cosmos as the bringer of order, the primary source of visible and astral light, the liminal mediator between the world of Forms and the Sublunar sphere, and of the four seasons that sustain all life. Thus, through the Sun, the equinoxes and solstices define the positions and properties of the Zodiacal Signs and the essential architecture of the universe and time itself. I hope that you’ve enjoyed this somewhat serpentine journey through the world of Scholastic Image Magic which started with Agrippa’s Solar sapphires, has taken us through the complex relationships of planetary pairings, and finally to the fundamental supremacy and centrality of the Sun. Traditional celestial magic conceals a lot of secrets of both a practical and spiritual nature, and as we solve the puzzles it sets before us in the canonical sources, the aspiration is that our own personal disjointedness is transformed into a more coherent spiritual being. I’m cheating a little by letting you in on some of the glimpses of the treasures that I’ve uncovered. I’m hoping that you’ll forgive me for bending the rules a little; that you’ll return the favor someday to myself and others, and that you’ll use this knowledge wisely. No one can perfect any of the works of traditional astrological magic without passing on some of the illumination that one receives, much like the Sun illuminates each of the planets and they transmit their light and fill all of their hierarchies with vitality and power. It’s more than a metaphor; it’s the essential connection between consciousness and cosmos that produces magic and our experience of reality itself.

I have been seeing these white flowers on the first floor all over the place. To continue in a state of ignorance is obviously unacceptable when it comes to something you encounter in every forest you visit. Sure enough, they were not difficult to identify. These are Bunchberries (Cronus canadienses), also known as Bunchberry Dogwood, a common plant carpeting moist forest floors throughout Canada. This unassuming plant has been referred to as the fastest moving plant in the world due to the curious way in which the plant spreads its pollen. The stamens in the Bunchberry are like miniature medieval trebuchets and, when triggered by an insect, launch the pollen into the air to coat the unsuspecting insect. If I would have known about this I would have definitely tried it out by poking at the flower. This is just a botanical ballistic experiment that I have to do next time I come across these plants. The original study reporting this remarkable pollen spreading strategy was published in the journal Nature in 2005. Here is a link to the paper, but you need a subscription to access the article. There is, however, a freely available PDF here and there is also lots of information, including videos of the process, on the website of the author. Another nature walk and another muskrat sitting in the bath going to town with its vegetables. It seems that every time I come across muskrats they seem to be eating. Maybe they are just more conspicuous when they are eating…, or maybe they are just always eating, just like human teenagers. I imagine one would have to chomp down quite a bit of vegetables to get your daily nutrient requirements. Just like me, muskrats are facultative herbivores which means that they prefer to eat plants but, if necessary, can also consume animal such as fish, frogs and insects. The other day as I was out by a lake with some young ones we spotted a muskrat swimming around and, too my surprise, not eating (but it was probably looking for food). When the kids saw it they immediately identified it as a beaver. To be entirely honest, the first time I saw a muskrat I also mistook it for a beaver. The muskrat is like the lesser known cousin of the superstar beaver in that everyone recognizes a beaver (even if they have never seen one) while few people recognizes the muskrat (even if you might be looking at one). Perhaps the easiest way to tell these semi-aquatic rodents apart, particularly if it is your first time seeing one, is the tail. Beaver with its tell-tale flat and paddle-shaped tail while the muskrat has a long, skinny tail with flat sides. If you can see the tail there really is no way of mis-identifying a muskrat for a beaver. In the picture below you can clearly see the long skinny tail of the muskrat. Once you become a more seasoned muskrat aficionado you realize that there are a few other distinguishing characteristics as well. Perhaps the most obvious difference (if you know about it) is the size difference. Beavers are huge weighing in at between 35 and 60 pounds while muskrats are puny in comparison topping out at about 4 pounds. Another difference is that with muskrats you can usually see its whole body when it is swimming while with beavers you typically only see their large wedge-shaped head. While I have not seen a beaver at the creek for a while the musk rats are out in full force. As I crossed the pedestrian bridge across the Whitemud Creek a lone female Common Goldeneye (Bucephalus clangula) was swimming around in the creek eyeing me curiously. Common Goldeneyes are medium-sized diving ducks where the females are brunettes with a piercing golden-yellow eye. There are two species of goldeneyes, the Common Goldeneye, which as the name suggests is more common, and, the more rare, Barrow’s Goldeneye. While the males of the two species are easy to tell apart, the females are more difficult to distinguish as they appear nearly identical. According to Sibley the Barrow’s Goldeneye female has a darker brown head than the Common Goldeneye which does not help me at all since I did not have the two species next to each other for comparison. Perhaps the best distinguishing characteristic between the females of the two species for someone like me that has only seen a handful of these species is the bill color. According to Sibley the female Barrow’s Goldeneye has a “usually mostly yellow” bill while the female of the Common Goldeneye has a “usually mostly black” bill. Looking at the picture I would say that her bill is definitely in the category “mostly black”; ergo, it is a Common Goldeneye. Yesterday I went for a nature walk to a part of the Whitemud Creek that is located south of the 23rd Avenue. I have not been to this location previously and I just happened to run some errands in this neighbourhood so I decided to “kill two birds with one stone” and squeeze in a short nature walk in-between errands. As it turns out this part of the creek flows through the Mactaggard Sanctuary, a 104 hectares nature sanctuary, part of which was donated to the University of Alberta in 1980 by Sandy A. Mactaggard, a developer and philanthropist. The sanctuary has a interesting history, which also explains why it is called a “sanctuary” and not a “park”. There is a video where the late Mr. Mactaggard tells the story behind the sanctuary. In short, the sanctuary used to be located outside of Edmonton when Sandy Mactaggard originally purchased the land for housing development, but only after promising the previous owner of the land that he will preserve it to benefit the citizens of Edmonton. The purpose was not to turn it into another park, but rather keep it pristine and let it remain the way it always had been. That is why it became a sanctuary. The trails along this part of the creek are more untamed and rough with less traffic. I did not have much time for my nature walk so I had to move quick and as a result did not get much birding done. My main aim was to find a large oxbow lake situated in the sanctuary and do some preliminary scouting to figure out how to access the lake. Oxbow lakes are often enveloped in dense vegetation and can be difficult to find and access. The benefit of this is that many animals use these lakes for raising their young. I did not have any trouble finding the lake as the trail briefly passes right along side of it, but just as I suspected most of the lake is surrounded by dense vegetation. Accessing the more remote parts of the lake (the ones where the trail did not go) proved, however, to be even more difficult than I had anticipated as the entire outside rim of the lake is surrounded by a high and very steep bank (almost like an overgrown cliff) and there was not obvious way of accessing the shoreline. There is a trail, the Mactaggard sanctuary loop trail, that loops around the lake ascending the steep bank. Although this quick exploration gave me some ideas of how one might be able to access some of the more remote parts of the lake, I did not have time to look into the feasibility of any of these possibilites. That will have to be another excursion. On a different note, the mosquitos were voracious and I did not bring any repellent so, this is a reminder to myself not to forget the repellent next time. The first time I ran into the conundrum of how to quantify the number of individuals in a large flock of birds was as at the edge of the Pacific Ocean at Boca Budi in southern Chile. On the cliff face overlooking the Pacific Ocean we encountered a colony of nesting Red-legged Cormorants (Phalacrocorax gaimardi). Our best estimated was that the visible portion of their cliff had a minimum of 300 individuals, a number that was likely an underestimate. Here is a link to the eBird checklist. The second time I ran into the same problem, albeit on a different magnitude, was at a small pond outside of Tofield (Alberta) full of snow geese (Anser caerulescens). Our best estimate was that there were 15000 geese on the water and in their air. Here is a link to the eBird checklist. Both times we had no particular estimation strategy, but rather we based our estimates on eyeballing and whatever “common sense” we had (whatever that means in this context). A few weeks ago we encountered a large flock of Canada Geese taking off from a farmer’s field outside of Camrose, this time I decided to go about the estimation more systematically by using one of the photos I took of the fleeing geese. Once I had the photo on my computer screen I proceeded by according to the following steps: I started by dividing up the image into a grid (see image below). I counted each bird in the grid cell with a green outline. There were 23 individuals in this cell. I used the patter from this cell to estimate the number of individuals in every other cell. The estimates are in yellow and fall into four categories, “looks like 23”, “looks like half of 23, i.e. 12”, “looks less than half, i.e. 5” or “no birds = 0”. I added up the estimates (the yellow numbers) and got an estimate of 436 geese. To check how good my estimated was I then counted the actual number of individuals in each grid cell (note the blue dots), indicated in blue numbers, and added it up. There are exactly 422 geese in the picture. The estimate is not to shabby but obviously begs the question how one would (could) modify this approach to do “live” estimates in the field. I guess doing a “posts-observation” estimate like this is also fine to as long as all the birds are in the picture to start with. The main issue with this estimate is that the image does not include all the geese. There were plenty more geese both to the right and left of the picture. This estimate was more a proof of concept exercise that still needs to be refined to be useful in the field when you have a gaggle of geese flying by in a matter of seconds. Along a forested section of the trail looping around the First Lake on the Valley of the Five Lakes trail we encountered these small purple flowers poking through the thick moss cover. They had an “orchidy” sort of look to them but at the time I did not know what they were. It turns out they they are indeed orchids known by various names, including, Calypso Orchid, Venus’ Slipper or Fairy Slipper (Calypso bulbosa var. americana). It is a circumpolar perennial orchid found in undisturbed montane forests. They belong to the genus Calypso, which only contains this one species, which takes its name from Greek signifying concealment, as they tend to favour sheltered and undisturbed areas of conifer forest floors. Although it is wide spread globally it is considered threatened or endangered in some part of the world (e.g. several U.S. states and in Sweden and Finland) as it is sensitive to disturbances and has a rather finicky reproductive strategy. It relies on visits by pollinating insects, specifically bumblebees here in Alberta, by deception as it does not produce any nectar to reward its pollinators. As a result insects quickly learn not to visit it again. Talk about burning your bridges reproductively. Something was definitely moving along the water’s edge, we just could not immediately focus in on it. It took us a while to adjust our eyes and calibrate our brain to pick up the small stealthy bird scurrying around on the sandy shore on the opposite side of the creek. It was a small shorebird with spotted underparts and sand brown upper parts. If it would not move around it would be nearly impossible to see against the sand and pebbles along the shoreline. I have not seen many shorebirds in my life and this one was definitely a new one. While it was working the shoreline for a morsel to eat its tail was continuously bobbing up and down. Ultimately, this is what gave it away…, it was a Spotted Sandpiper (Actitis macularius, Lifer #162, AB Big Year #114). The Spotted Sandpiper is a true American as it can be found from the Canadian high arctic during the boreal summer down to the shorelines of Chile during the austral summer.

Let’s set the scene: The stockings are hung, the menorah is lit, and the cinnamon candle’s scent is wafting through the house. Then the smell of freshly baked cookies emerges from the kitchen, and everyone gathers round to enjoy a batch of homemade holiday cookies. But the real Christmas miracle is that these sweets are healthier than usual. We understand it’s totally time to splurge and enjoy a holiday treat (or seven), so we’re making it a bit easier by providing some better-for-you options. From the classic sugar cookie and gingerbread man to raspberry thumbprints and lemon drops, here are 48 cookie recipes that won’t do damage to those healthy habits. We can’t not include this classic. This recipe is vegan—filled with nut butter, oats, and almond meal—but we promise it puts Nabisco to shame. Grab a glass of milk and dunk, dunk, dunk away. This gluten- and dairy-free recipe is a healthier twist on the childhood classic. Since it’s easy to grab on the go and full of fruit and nuts, you can eat as a breakfast, snack, or dessert (or all three). With whole-wheat flour, just 1/4 cup sugar, and a butter substitute, these guys are a healthier version of the tasty cinnamon-sugar treat. The blogger says these little guys are made to be super soft and gooey, so we bet they’d be best right out of the oven. If you don’t frost cut-out sugar cookies, is it really the holiday season? This version gives everyone’s favorite tradition a healthier update by using dairy-free butter and milk. There is even some pumpkin purée tucked inside. If you love peppermint hot cocoa, you’ll love these cookies. The Paleo recipe uses a combination of almond meal and coconut flour for a healthier treat. Did we mention they taste amazing dipped in coffee? Pumpkin season isn’t over till we say it’s over. (And it’s not over.) Filled with oats and nuts, one or two of these will keep anyone satisfied ’til the New Year. These lemon and coconut cookies will make you dream of summer when you’re all curled up in your holiday sweater. The creamy filling works well as a frosting on some of your other cookies too. This no-bake recipe is one of the easiest on our list. With just three ingredients (dates, oats, and chai spice), this recipe is the perfect on-the-go snack or dessert. Dressing up little gingerbread men with frosting and sprinkles has to be one of the best parts of the holiday season. This recipe swaps out sugar, flour, and butter for healthier ingredients, making them both Paleo friendly and dairy-free. Cavemen need cookies too, right? This Paleo recipe uses almond flour, coconut sugar, and coconut oil; a basic holiday dessert just got real fancy. This vegan recipe is kind of like a chewier version of a biscotti—and we’re all about it. These babies taste amazing fresh out of the oven. We dare you just to have one. Cookies that taste like hot chocolate? We went there. These bad boys are made with cocoa powder, light brown sugar, and mallow bits (yes, those are a thing). You’ll never need to drink the liquid stuff again. For something with a bit of extra crunch, whip up a batch of biscotti using almond flour, honey, and almonds. It’s totally cool to reach for seconds (or thirds). These vegan, gluten-free cookies are loaded with classic holiday flavor thanks to ground ginger, cinnamon, molasses, and vanilla. Coconut oil makes these spicy treats nice and moist while adding a touch of healthy fat. Grab someone you love and enjoy this kiss under the mistletoe. It’s hard to pick a favorite holiday cookie, but this may be our winner. This festive flavor combination isn’t just for Thanksgiving. To make these cookies, just top basic thumbprint cookie dough (made with almond flour, coconut oil, almond milk, and maple syrup) with a spiced pecan filling. Sometimes peanut butter straight from the spoon isn’t enough. These treats are made from just four ingredients (peanut butter, vanilla protein, coconut sugar, and eggs), so you can whip them up on a moment’s notice. And don’t be afraid to throw in some dark chocolate chips for a lil’ extra sweetness! Yep, shortbread cookies don’t always have to be full of butter. This recipe cuts out part of the fat with applesauce, still yielding a recipe that’ll satisfy any taste bud. Using inspiration from the classic candy bar, this recipe combines chocolate, coconut, and almonds into an oatmeal cookie. Just mix all the ingredients together, and they’re ready to eat in 12-15 minutes. These amazing thumbprint cookies are filled with a dollop of homemade raspberry jam (trust us, it’s easy). Paleo, dairy-free, tasty, and Instagram-worthy? Sign us up. Add a spicy bite to your next holiday kitchen creation. These cookies are soft, chewy, and made with fresh ginger for some extra superfood love. This spin on a delicious dessert has a secret ingredient: garbanzo beans. But trust us on this one—you’ll never know the difference, and your guests will never guess. Filled with fruit jam and surrounded by cashews, this is a classy cookie perfect for any holiday party. Plus, it’s super easy to make with only seven ingredients total. For a sweet and sour treat, try these brightly flavored baked goods. Lemons, honey, and almond flour are the stars and make this cookie a real (healthier) winner. Need we say more? When the chocolate craving hits, grab one of these brownies. No flour necessary. What’s a holiday season without some peppermint? Swapping out some butter for plain yogurt lightens the cookies up a bit, and crushed candy canes make them worth going back for more. Nuts, seeds, and coconut make this a superfood special in dessert form. Customize these bars with dried fruit and favorite nuts, or sprinkle in some chocolate chips for extra sweetness. Crispy on the outside, chewy on the inside, and filled with coconut—what else could we ask for in a cookie? Fresh raspberries add some extra sweetness (and fiber), and rolled oats keep all the ingredients together. The secret to a perfect cookie? Make it no-bake! This recipe is super easy to prep and even easier to enjoy. Hurry, your kitchen is calling. With grated carrots and rolled oats as two of the major ingredients, this soft, spicy cookie is a good balance between healthy and indulgent. If butterscotch chips aren’t your fave, sub in dark chocolate. We’re not kidding! Just five ingredients and you’re good to go with this tasty treat. Almond meal, almond butter, dates, oats, and bananas are all you need. Blend them up, mix, and serve. Whole-wheat flour, a little flax, and a lotta pumpkin and dark chocolate make this a crowd-pleaser—especially around the holidays. Need a quick, easy dessert to bring to that last-minute, unexpected holiday party? This five-ingredient, no-bake dessert fits the bill. Enjoy as a late-night snack or as the perfect start to any morning. The raspberries and oatmeal are a perfect combo for maximum sweetness with a touch of savory. Egg whites are useful for more than just omelets. For a light, sweet treat after a big meal, one of these festive meringues should do the trick. These no-bake treats are practically a health food (practically… ). Not-so-unhealthy ingredients include unsweetened coconut, pecan flour, pumpkin purée, cocoa powder, vanilla, and cinnamon. Fresh cranberries, Greek yogurt, and orange rind give these gooey bars plenty of flavor. Whole-wheat pastry flour and rolled oats add a bit of fiber too. Vegan and gluten-free cookies don’t have to be dry, flavorless, and boring. These tiramisu sandwich cookies feature tasty ingredients like rum, vanilla, amaretto, coconut cream, and instant coffee. Since Oreos are milk’s favorite cookie, they’re probably Santa’s too. These homemade sandwiches are raw, gluten-free, and dairy-free. Pro tip: You definitely need a food processor to whip up these allergen-free bad boys. Here is the classic oatmeal raisin cookie with some holiday spice: Applesauce instead of butter, whole-wheat flour, and oats make this an A+ offering. Got an almond-butter lover in the house? These totally DIY treats are bound to be a major hit. Grind up some almonds, then mix the butter with coconut flour, lemon zest, brown sugar, and vanilla. They’re simple, gluten-free, and guaranteed to be gone in less than an hour. Old-fashioned rolled oats, coconut flakes, and zucchini give these bite-size treats plenty of flavor and texture. Vanilla, chocolate chips, and brown sugar make them taste holiday-worthy. The name might be a mouthful, but this recipe is actually pretty straightforward. The cookies are made with quinoa and almond flour, so they’re safe for gluten-free friends. Make them into sandwich cookies by adding the spicy almond butter or eat ’em plain. If the words “salted caramel mocha” don’t have you running to the kitchen, you might not be human. With whole-wheat flour, apple butter, and plenty of antioxidant-rich dark chocolate, these treats are a relatively healthy way to indulge your sweet tooth. Everyone’s favorite elementary school lunch gets dessert-ified in these fun, no-bake cookies. Make a basic bar cookie from ground nuts and coconut, then chill the dough and slice to form “bread.” Fill the mini PB&Js with your favorite nut butter and jam. Filled with almonds, olive oil, and cinnamon, then drizzled with dark chocolate, these crunchy cookies are perfect for an afternoon coffee break. Sub in whole-wheat flour to add some fiber. There are peanut butter cookies, and then there are ridiculously good peanut butter cookies. These treats, which are made with powdered peanut butter (such as PB2), creamy peanut butter, and peanut butter chips, definitely fall in the latter category. Originally posted December 2014. Updated November 2016. Want More? How to Keep Cookies Soft

Joan Toole, author of two microwave cookbooks, pairs her microwave oven with the range-top, conventional oven, barbecue grill and food processor to achieve the best of all cooking worlds in half the time with half the clean-up. The benefits of microwave cooking match the lifestyle of Toole, a California career woman, wife, mother and avid runner involved in myriad professional and social activities. Amid her hectic schedule, Toole was able to write ''Cooking With Microwave Magic'' and ''Cooking En Concert With Microwave.'' Because of the varied activities of her family, Toole often cooks one meal, dishes it onto individual plates and refrigerates them. Her family members later reheat their dinners in a matter of seconds leaving only the plates and eating utensils to be cleaned. A microwave oven`s capacity to reheat foods with absolutely no ''leftover'' taste is unmatched by any other kitchen appliance. Some of Toole`s tips for reheating include: -- Two cups of cooked frozen rice in covered dish reheats in 4 to 5 minutes on high (100 percent) power. Stir several times for even thaw and heat. -- Three pancakes, waffles or slices of french toast taken directly from the refrigerator will reheat in 30 seconds on high power. -- Two cups of cooked vegetables in covered dish reheat in 2 to 3 minutes on high power. Another example of Joan Toole`s cooking ''en concert'' is to bake a pie crust conventionally, meanwhile cooking the pie filling in a mixing bowl in the microwave oven. Two-crust fruit pies also are candidates for microwave and conventional oven combination cooking. A 9-inch two-crust fruit-filled pie is first cooked in the microwave oven on high power for 8 to 10 minutes or until bubbles begin to show under the slits in the top crust. The partially baked pie is then transferred to a preheated 425-degree oven to bake for 15 minutes longer or until golden brown. Joan and husband, Jerry, are avid runners whose diets support their daily eight-mile runs. They consume a lot of carbohydrates but not more than 25 percent fat in their daily calorie intake. Potatoes have become a specialty of the house. Joan`s tips for cooking potatoes ''en concert'' are: -- For extra crispy potato skins, microwave each large potato for 3 minutes or until firm but not hard. Pop them into a 400- to 500-degree oven for about 10 minutes. The skins become crisp but the interior remains tender and moist. -- Rub potato skin with very small amount of butter before microwaving. Wrap in paper towel upon removal from microwave oven to keep skins from getting soggy. -- Baked potatoes will keep hot up to 30 minutes if wrapped in foil or a towel upon removal from the microwave oven. -- Always microwave potatoes on a meat rack for more even cooking. -- For the best cottage fries, microwave whole, unpeeled potatoes on high for 4 to 5 minutes each depending on size. Slice potatoes like cottage fries. Brown in butter in cast-iron skillet until golden brown; season to taste with salt and pepper. -- To make the best of hash browns, microwave potatoes the night before. Chop into small pieces the next day and fry in butter or bacon fat in cast-iron skillet. Chopped onions or peppers can be added; season to taste. A favorite potato recipe uses a food processor and microwave oven. Slice raw potatoes in food processor, coat with scalding hot milk then cook in less than 15 minutes in the microwave oven. The vegetable recipe can be turned into an entree with the addition of thinly sliced ham or prosciutto, grated cheddar cheese and chopped onions. Toole`s two books are available by sending a $12 check or money order to P.O. Box 587, Lake Forest, Ill. 60045. ''Cooking En Concert with Microwave'' also is available at Neiman-Marcus in Northbrook Court. Toole will teach a series of three lessons on microwave cooking March 5, 12 and 19 at Neiman-Marcus in Northbrook Court. Call the Epicure manager at 564-0300 for more information. JOAN TOOLE`S SCALLOPED POTATOES Preparation time: 15 minutes Microwaving time: 15 minutes 1 1/4 cups milk 5 medium potatoes, sliced about 1/8-inch thick 3 1/2 tablespoons flour 1 teaspoon salt 4 tablespoons butter 1. Scald milk in microwave oven in 2-cup glass measuring cup on high power for 1 1/2 minutes. 2. Put half the potatoes in a deep 2-quart glass dish that has straight sides. (If you use a dish that is too small the milk may boil over). Mix flour and salt and sprinkle half of it over potatoes. Dot top with 2 tablespoons of the butter. 3. Put remaining potatoes in dish. Sprinkle remaining flour mixture over the top. 4. Pour scalded milk over all. Dot with remaining 2 tablespoons butter and sprinkle paprika over top. 5. Cover with lid or plastic wrap vented at one corner. Microwave on high (100 percent) power for 12 to 14 minutes or until potatoes are fork-tender. (Rotate dish a quarter turn after 6 minutes.) Variation: Layer about 1/2 pound thinly sliced ham or prosciutto between layers of potatoes. Sprinkle 1/4 cup each of shredded cheese and chopped onion over ham. Top with remaining layer of potatoes and milk.

Today’s recipe is a moist take on the traditional ‘thumbprint’ cookie, made even better with the addition of salt free peanut butter! As originally written it calls for jam in the center of each cookie. PB & J cookies? Mmmm. But peanut butter goes well with so many things.. apple butter, mashed up banana, or (my personal favorite) Nutella. NOW we’re talking! Although these cookies may look and sound decadent, don’t be fooled. The only fat comes from the peanut butter itself, and the egg yolk has been eliminated altogether. They’re health food, through & through. And I’m sticking to that! Adapted from the American Medical Association Healthy Heart Cookbook. Yields about 2 dozen cookies. SODIUM CONTENT: 9 mg per cookie 3/4 c. no-salt-added peanut butter, creamy or chunky 1/2 c. honey 1/2 c. nonfat vanilla yogurt 1 egg white 1 1/2 t. pure vanilla extract 1 c. all-purpose flour 1/2 c. whole wheat flour 1 c. oats 1/2 t. Featherweight sodium free baking powder 1/4 c. filling of choice (jam, jelly, preserves, apple butter, mashed fruit, nutella, etc.) Preheat oven to 300 degrees. Lightly grease two baking sheets with cooking spray and set aside. Using a hand-held or stand mixer, combine the peanut butter, honey, yogurt, egg white and vanilla; beat on medium speed 3 minutes. Add the flours, oats and baking powder and stir until combined. Drop cookies by 2-tablespoonfuls onto the prepared baking sheets and flatten slightly. Make a thumbprint in the center of each cookie and spoon 1/2 teaspoon filling into each. Bake on middle rack in oven until cookies are just lightly brown on the edges, 12 minutes. Remove from oven and transfer cookies to a wire rack to cool.

Stories by Foreign Authors (French III)/Laurette or the Red Seal LAURETTE OR THE RED SEAL ALFRED DE VIGNY I. The Meeting on the Highway. THE road from Artois to Flanders is a long and dreary one. It extends in a straight line, with neither trees nor ditches along its sides, over flat plains, covered at all seasons with a yellow clay. It was in the month of March, 1815, that, as I was passing along this road, I met with an adventure I have never forgotten. I was alone; I rode on horseback; I had a good cloak, a black casque, pistols, and a heavy sabre. It had been raining in torrents during four days and four nights of my journey, and I remember that I was singing the "Joconde" at the top of my voice—I was so young. The bodyguard of the king, in 1814, was filled up with old men and boys; the empire seemed to have seized and killed off all the men. My comrades were on the road, somewhat in advance of me, escorting Louis XVIII.; I saw their white cloaks and red coats on the very edge of the northern horizon. The Lancers of Bonaparte, who, step by step, watched and followed our retreat, showed from time to time the tri-colored pennons of their long lances at the opposite horizon. A lost shoe had somewhat retarded my horse; but he was young and strong, and I pushed him on, to rejoin my squadron. He set off on a quick trot; I put my hand to my belt—it was well furnished with gold; I heard the iron scabbard of my sword clank upon my stirrup, and I felt very proud and perfectly happy. It rained on, and I sang on. However, I soon ceased, tired of hearing nobody but myself, and I then heard only the rain and the feet of my horse as they plashed in the ruts. The pavement of the road gave way; I sank down; and was obliged to have recourse to my feet. My high cavalry boots were covered on the outside with a crust of mud, yellow as ochre, and inside they were fast filling with water. I looked at my new epaulettes, my happiness and my consolation—they were ruined by the rain. That was no slight affliction! My horse hung his head, and I did the same. I began to reflect, and for the first time asked myself where I was going. I knew absolutely nothing about it; but that did not trouble me long; I knew that my squadron was there, and there too was my duty. As I felt in my heart a profound and imperturbable tranquillity, I thanked that ineffable feeling of duty, and tried to explain it to myself. Seeing every day how gayly the most unaccustomed fatigues were borne by heads so fair or so white, how cavalierly a well-assured future was risked by men of a worldly and happy life, and taking my own share in that wonderful satisfaction which every man derives from the conviction that he cannot evade any of the obligations of honor, I saw clearly that self-abnegation was a far easier and more common thing than is generally imagined. I asked myself whether this abnegation of self was not an innate sentiment? what was this need of obeying, and of placing one's freedom of will in the hands of others, as a heavy and troublesome burden? whence came the secret pleasure of being rid of this burden? and why the pride of man never revolted at this? I perceived this mysterious instinct binding together, on every side, families and nations into masses powerful in their combination; but I nowhere saw the renunciation of one's own actions, words, wishes, and almost thoughts, so complete and formidable as in the army. In every direction I saw resistance possible and habitual. I beheld the citizen rendering an obedience that was discriminating and intelligent, examining for itself, and liable to stop at a certain point. I beheld even the tender submission of woman reach its limits, the law taking up her defence, when the authority she obeys commands a wrong. But military obedience is blind and dumb, because at the same time passive and active—receiving its order and executing it—striking with eyes shut, like the Fate of antiquity. I followed out, through all its possible consequences, this abnegation of the soldier, without retreat, without condition, and leading him sometimes to tasks of illest omen. Such were my reflections as I walked on at my horse's own pleasure; looking at my watch from time to time, and beholding the road as it stretched along for ever in a straight line, varied neither by house nor tree, and intersecting the plain as far as the horizon, like a yellow stripe on a gray cloth. Sometimes the liquid line was lost in the liquid ground that surrounded it; and when a little brightening of the dull and pale light of the day spread over that most melancholy expanse of land, I saw myself in the midst of a muddy ocean, following a current of clay and plaster. Examining attentively the yellow line of the road, I observed upon it, at the distance of about a mile, a little black point, which was in motion. I was delighted with the sight,—it was somebody. I kept my eyes steadily fixed upon it. I saw that the black point was going in the same direction with myself, toward Lille, and that it went with a zigzag motion, as though with painful toil. I quickened my gait, and gained ground upon the object, which began to lengthen a little and increase in bulk to my sight. Reaching a firmer soil, I resumed a trot, and soon fancied that I could distinguish a little black wagon. I was hungry, and hoped that it was the wagon of a sutler; and, looking upon my poor horse as a vessel, I crowded all sail to arrive at that fortunate island in this sea of mud, where he sometimes sank down above his knees. When about a hundred yards off, I at last distinguished plainly a little wagon of white wood, covered by a black oilcloth stretched over three hoops. It looked like a little cradle mounted on two wheels. The wheels sank down to the axletree; the little mule which drew it was wearisomely led by a man on foot, who held the bridle. I drew near, and took an attentive look at him. He was a man of about fifty, moustachioed, tall and strong, and his back rounded, like that of the old infantry officers who have carried the knapsack. He had also their uniform; and you could see, from under a short and well-worn blue cloak, the epaulette of a chef-de-bataillon. His face was rough and hard, but good, as you so often see in the army. He looked at me sideways from under his heavy black eyebrows, and drawing a musket quickly out of the wagon, he cocked it, passing to the other side of the mule, of which he thus made a rampart. Having seen his white cockade, I simply showed him the sleeve of my red coat, when he replaced the musket in the wagon, saying: "Oh; that's another matter. I took you for one of those coneys who are running after us. Will you take a drop?" "With all my heart," I answered, drawing near; "it is four-and-twenty hours since I have tasted one." He had round his neck a cocoa-nut, beautifully carved, and made into a bottle, with a silver neck, of which he seemed a little vain. He reached it to me, and I drank a little poor white wine with a great deal of satisfaction, and returned him the cocoa-nut. "To the health of the king!" said he, drinking; "he has made me an officer of the Legion of Honor, and it is but right that I should follow him to the frontier. And as I have only my epaulette by which to live, I shall then rejoin my battalion. That's my duty." As he thus spoke, to himself as it were, he set his little mule in march again, saying that we had no time to lose; and as I was of the same opinion, I resumed my route two or three steps in his rear. I still kept looking at him, but without asking any questions, as I never liked that talkative indiscretion which is so common among us. We went on in silence for about a mile. As he then stopped to rest his poor little mule, which it was really painful to see, I halted too, and tried to press out the water which made my riding-boots like two reservoirs in which my legs were soaking. "Your boots begin to stick to your feet?" said he to me. "It is four nights since I have taken them off." "Bah! in a week you will think no more of it," he replied, with his hoarse voice. "It is something to be alone in times like these, I can tell you. Do you know what I have got inside there?" "No," said I. "It is a woman." "Ah!" was my answer, with no particular astonishment, as I quietly resumed my route at a walk again. He followed. "This wretched covering here did not cost me very dear," he resumed, "nor the mule neither; but it is all that I need, although this road here is rather a long queue ribbon." I offered him my horse to mount when he should be tired; and as I only spoke gravely and simply of his equipage, of which he feared the ridiculous appearance, he became suddenly quite at his ease, and approaching my stirrup, gave me a slap on the knee, and said: "Come, you are a good fellow, though you are one of the red." I felt in the bitterness of his accent, as he thus designated the four red companies, how many angry prejudices the luxury and rank of these corps of officers had created in the army at large. "However," he added, "I will not accept your offer, considering that I do not know how to mount a horse, and that, for my part, that is not my business." "But, commandant, you superior officers are obliged to." "Bah! once a year for inspection, and then a hired hack. As for me, I was always a sailor, and afterwards in the infantry; so that I know nothing about riding." He went on for about twenty steps, looking sideways at me, as if expecting a question; but as he heard none, he presently continued himself: "You are not very inquisitive, that's a fact! That ought to astonish you a little, what I said there." "I am not often astonished," said I. "Ah, but if I were to tell you how I came to quit the sea, then we should see." "Very well," I answered, "why don't you try? That will warm us, and make me forget the rain that is pouring in at my back, and only stopping at my heels." The good chef-de-bataillon prepared himself deliberately to speak, with all the pleasure of a child. He adjusted his shako on his head, which was covered with black oilcloth, and gave that peculiar shrug of the shoulders, which none can imagine who have not served in the infantry,—that shrug of the shoulders which the soldier gives to raise his knapsack, and ease its weight for a moment. It is a habit of the soldier, which, when he becomes an officer, remains as a trick. After this jerking movement, he drank a little wine from his flask, administered a kick of encouragement to the little mule, and began. II. Story of the Sealed Order. "You must know then, in the first place, my boy, that I was born at Brest. I began by being troop-boy, gaining my half-ration, and my half-pay, at the age of nine years, as my father was a soldier in the Guards. But as I had a liking for the sea, one fine night when I was at Brest on leave of absence, I hid among the ropes of a merchant-ship bound to the Indies, and was not found until they were out at sea, when the captain preferred making a sailor-boy of me, to throwing me overboard. When the Revolution came on, I had made some headway, and was captain of a neat little trading vessel, having been tossed about the sea, like its foam, for fifteen years. As the old royal navy—a good old navy, faith, it was—found itself suddenly depopulated of its officers, they took their captains from the merchant service. I had had some little brushes with the pirates which I will tell you about some other time, and they gave me the Command of a small brig-of-war, named the Mara." "On the 28th of Fructidor, 1797, I received orders to get ready for a voyage to Cayenne. I was to transport there sixty soldiers and a déporté, who had remained behind, of the one hundred and ninety-three which the frigate La Decade had taken on board some days before. I had orders to treat this individual with kindness, and the first letter of the Directory inclosed the second, sealed with three red seals, the middle one of which was of enormous size. I was forbidden to open this letter before reaching the first degree north latitude, and between the 27th and 28th of longitude—that is to say, when about crossing the line. This big letter was of a shape altogether peculiar. It was very long, and so tightly closed that I could not get at a word, either in at the corners or through the envelope. I am not superstitious, but it frightened me, that letter. I placed it in my cabin, under the glass of a poor little English clock, which was nailed up over my berth. Mine was a real sailor's bed, if you know what that is. But what am I talking about?—you have lived at most but sixteen summers; you can never have seen anything of that kind. A queen's chamber cannot be so neatly arranged as a sailor's cabin—be it said without boasting. Everything has its own place, and its own nail; nothing can move. The vessel may toss as much as she chooses, without putting anything out of order. The furniture is all made to fit the form of the vessel, and of one's own little room. My bed was a chest; when it was opened, I slept in it; and when it was shut, it was my sofa, and there I smoked my pipe. Sometimes it was my table, and then I sat on one of the little casks in the cabin. My floor was waxed and rubbed like mahogany, and shone like a jewel. A real looking-glass! Oh, what a sweet little cabin it was!—and my brig, too, was not to be sneezed at. There was some fine fun on board there, and the voyage began this time pleasantly enough, but for— But I must not anticipate. "We had a fine breeze from the N. N. W., and I was busy putting away this letter under the glass of my clock, when my déporté entered my cabin; he had by the hand a beautiful little girl of about seventeen, and he told me that he himself was only nineteen. A handsome fellow, though a little too pale, and too fair for a man. He was a man though, and a man who behaved better on this occasion than many an old one would have done—you will see. He had his little wife under his arm: she was as fresh and gay as a child. They looked like two doves. It really was a pleasure to see them. "So said I: "'Ah, well, young ones, you come to pay a visit to the old captain, eh? That's kind of you. I am taking you rather far away: but all the better, for we shall have the longer to make one another's acquaintance. I am sorry to receive madame with my coat off, but you see I am nailing this big scamp of a letter up here. If you would only help me a little?'" "They were really good little children. The little husband took the hammer, and the little wife the nails, and they would hand them to me, as I asked for them: and she would say, 'To the right—to the left—captain!'—all the time laughing, because the knocking made my clock swing. I think I hear her yet, with her little voice, 'To the right—to the left—captain!" She was making fun of me. 'Ah, ha,' said I, 'you little puss, I'll make your husband scold you, you'll see.' Then she jumped upon his neck and kissed him:—they were indeed a charming pair, and so our acquaintance began. We were all at once good friends. "We had a fine passage, too. The weather seemed always made on purpose for us. As I had never had anything but dark faces on board my vessel, I made my two little lovers come to my table every day. It put me in spirits. When we had eaten our biscuit and fish, the little wife and her husband would sit looking at one another, as though they had never seen each other before. Then I would set to laughing with all my might, and making fun of them. They would laugh, too, with me. You would have laughed to have seen us there like three imbeciles, not knowing what was the matter with us. The fact is, it was really pleasant to see them so fond of one another. They were contented anywhere: they found anything which was given them good. Still they were on allowance, like the rest of us. I only added a little Swedish brandy when they dined with me; only a little glass, just to keep up my rank. They slept in a hammock, where the vessel rolled them about like those two pears I have here, in this wet handkerchief. They were lively and contented. I did like you, I asked them no questions; what use was there for me to know their name and their business—me, a traverser of the waves? I carried them from one side of the ocean to the other, as I might have carried two birds of paradise. "After a month I came to look upon them as my children. Every day when I called them, they came and sat near me. The young man wrote on my table (that is to say, on my bed), and when I wished it, he helped me to take my observation; he soon knew how to do it as well as myself,—I was quite astonished sometimes. The young woman would sit down upon a barrel and sew. "One day, when they were fixed so, I said to them: 'Do you know, my little friends, that we make quite a family picture as we now are? I don't wish to ask you any questions, but you probably have not any more money than you need, and you are very delicate, both of you, to dig and work, as the convicts at Cayenne do. It's a wretched country, I can tell you, from the bottom of my heart; but as for me, who am already an old wolf's skin dried in the sun, I could live there like a lord. If you have, as I rather fancy you have (without wishing to catechise you), ever so little regard for me, I would willingly leave my old brig, which is at best but an old wooden shoe, and establish myself there with you, if you liked it. I have no more family than a dog, and I am tired of it. You would make a nice little company for me. I could help you to many things, and I have got together, honestly enough, quite a snug little affair in the contraband way, on which we might live, and which I would leave to you, when I should come to kick the bucket,—to speak politely.' "They looked, at each other with quite a bewildered air, as if they did not think I spoke the truth; and then the little one ran, as she always did, and threw herself on the neck of the other, and sat upon his knees all crimson and weeping. He pressed her very closely in his arms, and I saw tears in his eyes too. He gave me his hand, and became even paler than usual. She spoke in a low voice to him, and her long fair hair fell loose upon his shoulders. Its twist had got loosed like a cable suddenly unrolling, for she was as lively as a fish. That hair, if you had seen it!—it was just like gold. As they continued to speak together in a low voice, he kissing her forhead from time to time, I became impatient: "'Well, does that suit you?' said I at length. "'But—but—captain—you are very good, but you cannot live with convicts,—and—' He cast his eyes down as he spoke. "'As for me,' said I, 'I don't know what you have done to be transported for. You will tell me that some of these days or never, if you choose. You don't look as if you had a very heavy conscience, and I am sure that I have done many a worse thing than you, in my life, my poor innocent little souls. Now, so long as you are under my guard, I shall not let you go, you may be sure of that; I would rather wring your necks like two pigeons. But the epaulette once off, I know no longer admiral nor anything else.' "'The fact is,' he answered, mournfully shaking his brown head, though a little powdered, as was still the fashion of that day,—'the fact is, I think it would be dangerous for you, captain, to seem to know us. We laugh because we are young; we look happy because we love one another; but I have many a miserable moment when I think of the future, and I know not what will become of my poor Laura.' And he again pressed the head of his young wife to his bosom. "'That was what I ought to say to the captain,' added he, 'was it not, my child? You would have said the same thing, would n't you?' "I took my pipe, and rose, because I felt that my eyes were becoming somewhat moist, and that does n't become me very well. "'Come, come,' said I, 'this will all clear up by and by; if the smoke of my pipe incommodes madame, she must go away.' "She raised her face all scarlet and wet with tears, like a child which has been scolded. "'Besides,' said she, looking at my clock, 'you forget that there—the letter?' "I felt something that struck home to me at these words—something like a sudden pain at the roots of my hair as she spoke. "'Pardieu! I did not think of that,' said I. 'This is a pretty piece of business, to be sure. If we had only crossed the first degree of north latitude, nothing would be left for me but to jump overboard. Can't I get tolerably happy, but this child here must remind me of that big scamp of a letter!' "I looked quickly at my sea-chart, and when I saw that we had yet a week to sail, my head was relieved, but not my heart—I knew not why. "'It's no joking matter with the Directory about the article obedience,' said I. 'Well, I am all straight this time. Time has passed so quickly, that I had completely forgotten that.' "Well, sir, there we remained, all three of us, with our noses in the air, looking up at that letter, as if it could speak. What struck me forcibly was that the sun, as it shone through the bull's-eye, fell upon the glass of the clock, and lighting the spot, made the great red seal and the other small ones appear like the features of a face in the midst of fire. "Would n't one say that its eyes were coming out of its head?' said I, to amuse them. "'Oh, dearest!' said the girl, shuddering, 'they look like spots of blood!' "'Nonsense,' said her husband, taking her in his arms, 'you deceive yourself, Laura; it looks like a wedding invitation. Come and rest yourself—come! Why do you trouble yourself about that letter?' "They hurried off as if a ghost were after them, and went on deck. "I remained alone with the big letter, and I remember that, as I smoked my pipe, I kept my gaze fixed on it as if it had riveted my eyes by meeting them, like those of a snake. Its great pale face—that third seal, larger than the eyes—open, ravenous, like the jaws of a wolf all that put me in a very bad humor. I took my coat and hung it over the clock, that I might see neither the hour nor that d—— of a letter. "I went to finish my pipe on deck, and remained there till night. We were then about on a line with the Cape de Verd islands. The Marat cut through the water, wind astern, over ten knots with ease. The night was the most beautiful one I have ever seen near the tropic. The moon was just rising at the horizon, large as a sun; the sea divided it in the middle, and became all white, like a sheet of snow covered over with little diamonds. I looked at it all from the bench where I sat smoking. The officer of the watch and the sailors did not speak, and, like me, were looking at the shadow of the brig on the water. I was glad to hear nothing; I like silence and order. I had forbidden all noise and all fires. Nevertheless, I perceived a small red streak almost under my feet. I should immediately have put myself in a passion, but as it came from the cabin of my little convicts, I wished to satisfy myself what they were about before I got angry. I had only to lean over and I could see through the skylight of the little cabin, and I looked down. The young girl was on her knees at her prayers. There was a little lamp which cast its light upon her. She was in her night-dress, and I saw from above, her bare shoulders, her little naked feet, and her long fair hair all afloat. I thought I would retire; but, nonsense! said I to myself—an old soldier like me, what harm is there?—and so I remained. "Her husband was seated on a small trunk, his head on his hands, watching her as she prayed. She raised her face as though to heaven, and I saw her large blue eyes wet like those of a Magdalen. Whilst she was praying he took the ends of her long hair and kissed them without disturbing her. When she had finished she made the sign of the cross, smiling as though she were just going to Paradise. I saw him also make the sign of the cross after her, but as if he were ashamed of it. And, indeed, for a man, such a thing is a little singular. "She rose, kissed him, and stretched herself the first in the hammock, where he threw her in as they put to bed a child in a cradle. The heat was stifling, and she seemed to find pleasure in the rocking motion of the vessel. Her tiny white feet were crossed and raised to the level of her head, and her whole person wrapped in her long white dress. Oh! she was a perfect little love. "'Dearest,' said she, already half asleep, 'are you not sleepy? Do you know it is very late?' "He remained still with his head in his hands, without answering. This made her a little anxious, the sweet child, and she raised her pretty head out of the hammock, like a bird out of its nest, and looked at him with her lips parted, not venturing to speak again. "At last he said: 'Oh! dear Laura! the nearer we approach to America, I cannot help it, but so much the sadder I become. I know not why it is, but I feel as if this voyage will have been the happiest part of our life.' "'And so it seems to me,' said she, 'and I wish we might never arrive.' "He looked at her, pressing his hands together with an expression of feeling you cannot imagine. "'And yet, my angel, you always weep when you pray to God,' said he, 'and that distresses me sadly, for I well know whom you are thinking of, and I fear you are sorry for what you have done.' "'I sorry!' said she, with a look of much pain,—'I sorry to have followed you, dearest! Do you think that because I had been yours so short a time, I loved you the less? Is one not a woman and does one not know one's duty at seventeen? My mother and my sisters, did they not say that it was my duty to follow you to Guiana? Did they not say I was doing nothing wonderful? I am only surprised that you should have been so touched by it, dearest: it was all perfectly natural. And now I do not know how you can imagine that I regret anything, when I am with you, to help you to live, or to die if you die.' "She said all this with so sweet a voice, one would have thought it was music. I was a good deal moved by it, and said to myself: 'Good little wife—yes, indeed!' "The young man sighed with grief as he stamped on the floor with his foot, and kissed a pretty little hand and a bare arm which she extended to him. "'Oh, Laurette, my own Laurette!' said he, 'when I think, that if we had only delayed our marriage for a few days, I should have been seized alone, and sent off alone, I cannot forgive myself.' "Then the beautiful girl stretched her beautiful white arms, bare to the shoulders, out of the hammock, and caressed his brow, his hair, his eyes, taking his head between her hands as though to carry it away and hide it in her bosom. She smiled like a child, and said a thousand sweet little womanly things, such as I, for my part, had never heard anything of the kind before. She shut his mouth playfully with her fingers, so as to have all the speaking to herself, and wiping his eyes with her long hair, as with a handkerchief, she said: 'And is it not a great deal better to have a wife with you who loves you—say, dearest? I am perfectly content to go to Cayenne; I shall see savages and cocoa-nut trees, like those of "Paul and Virginia," sha'n't I? We will each plant our own. We shall see who will be the best gardener. And we will make a little hut for us two. I will work all day and all night, if you wish. I am strong; see—look at my arms; see, I could almost lift you. Don't laugh at me. And besides, I am excellent in embroidering, and is there not some city thereabouts where embroiderers are wanted? And then I will give lessons in music and drawing, if they choose; and if they know how to read there, you can write, you know.' "I remember that the poor fellow was in such despair that a loud cry escaped him as she spoke thus. 'To write!' he exclaimed, 'to write!' and he seized his right hand with his left, pressing it tightly at the wrist. 'Ah! to write! Why have I ever known how to write! To write! it is the trade of fools. I believed in their liberty of the press—where were my senses? And, to do what? To print five or six poor ideas, common-place enough, read only by those who like them, and thrown into the fire by those who hate them, serving no other end but to bring persecution upon us. As for me, it is of little consequence; but you, beautiful angel, scarcely four days a wife, what had you done! Tell me, tell me, I entreat of you, how I came to suffer you to carry your goodness so far as to follow me here! Do you know where you are, poor girl? and whither you are going? You will soon, my child, be sixteen hundred leagues away from your mother and your sisters. And for me! all this for me!' "She hid her head for a moment in the hammock, and I, from above, could see she was weeping; but he from below did not perceive it, and when she uncovered her face it was already brightened by a smile, to enliven and cheer him. "'In truth we are not very rich just now,' said she, bursting into a laugh; 'see, here is my purse, I have only one single louis. And you!' "He began also to laugh like a child: 'Faith! I had a crown left, but I gave it to the little boy who carried your trunk.' "'Oh, well! what difference does that make?' said she, snapping her little white fingers like castanets; 'people are never so merry as when they have nothing; and besides, have I not yet in reserve the two diamond rings that my mother gave me? Those are good everywhere, and for everything, are they not? Whenever you choose we will sell them. And besides, I am sure that that dear old soul, the captain, does not tell us all his good intentions for us, and that he knows very well what is in the letter. I am sure it is a recommendation for us to the Governor of Cayenne.' "'Perhaps so,' said he, 'who knows?' "'And then,' added his little wife, 'you are so good that I am sure the government has only exiled you for a short time, but has no thought of harm against you.' "She had said that so sweetly, when she called me 'that dear old soul the captain,' that I was quite touched and melted, and I rejoiced in my very heart that she had perhaps guessed truly. They began anew to embrace one another; and I stamped loudly on the deck to make them stop. "'Eh! how now, my little friends,' I cried, 'the order is to put out all the lights on board the ship; blow out your lamp if you please.' "They obeyed, and I heard them laughing and talking below, in the dark, like school-children. I, for my part, relit my pipe and walked the deck by myself. All the tropical stars were at their posts, large as little moons. I watched them, and breathed an air which seemed fresh and sweet. I said to myself that the good little folks had certainly guessed the truth, and my spirits mounted at the thought. I would have wagered anything that one of the five Directors had changed his mind, and recommended them to my care. I did not very well explain to myself the how or the why of the matter, because there are affairs of state which I for my part never understood; but I fully believed it, and without knowing why, I was made happy by it. "I took my little night lantern and went to look at the letter under my old uniform. It had altogether a different air now; it seemed to smile, and the seals to be the color of roses. I had no longer any suspicion of its good intentions, and gave it a little nod of friendship. "However, notwithstanding all that, I hung my old coat over it; I was tired of it. We thought no more of looking at it for some days, and we were very merry. But as we approached the first degree of latitude, we began to leave off talking. "One fine morning I awoke, surprised enough to feel no motion of the ship. The fact is, I sleep with only one eye shut, as they say, and as I missed the tossing, I opened them both. We had got into a dead calm, and it was under the first degree of north latitude and the twentieth of longitude. I put my head on deck; the sea was as smooth as if it were of oil, and the open sails hung down glued to the masts, like empty balloons. I immediately said to myself, as I gave a sidelong glance at the letter: 'Very well, I shall have plenty of time to read you,' and waited till the evening, till sunset. But it had to be done sooner or later, so I uncovered the clock, and drew from under it the sealed order. Well, sir, I held it in my hand for a quarter of an hour, without being able to open it. At last I said, This is too bad! and broke the three seals with one movement of my thumb, and as for the big red seal, I rubbed it to powder. When I had read it, I rubbed my eyes, thinking they must have deceived me. "I read the letter over again from the beginning to the end; I read it through; I read it all over again and again. I began again at the last line and went up to the first; I could not believe it. My legs shook a little under me; I felt a peculiar quivering of the skin of my face, and I rubbed my cheeks with rum, and put some in the hollow of my hands. I was really ashamed of myself for being such a child—but it was only the affair of a moment. I went on deck to take a little air. "Laurette was that day so pretty, that I would not go near her. She had on a little simple white dress, her arms bare to her neck, and her long hair flowing, as she always wore it. She was amusing herself with dipping her other dress into the sea, from the end of a cord, and laughed to see that the ocean was as tranquil and pure as a spring of which she could see the bottom. "'Come and see the sand! come quick!' she cried, and her husband leaned upon her and bent over, but did not look at the water, for he was looking at her with a touching air of tenderness. I made a sign to the young man to come to speak to me on the quarter-deck. She turned round,—I don't know how I looked, but she let her rope drop, and grasped him convulsively by the arm, saying, 'Oh, don't go! he is so pale!' That might well be; it was enough to make one turn pale. Still he came toward me on the quarter-deck. She stood leaning against the main-mast, following us with her eyes, as we walked up and down without a word. I lit a cigar, which I found bitter, and spit it out into the water. He watched my eye; I took him by the arm—I was choking—upon my word I was choking. "'Come, come, now,' said I at length, 'my little friend, tell me something of your history. What the d—— have you done to those five hounds of lawyers, who are there like five pieces of a king. They seem to owe you a heavy grudge. It's very queer.' "He shrugged his shoulders, bending his head down—with such a sweet smile, poor boy!—and said: "'Oh! captain, nothing much, depend upon it. Three satirical verses upon the Directory, that is all.' "'It is n't possible!' said I. "'Oh, yes, indeed! and the verses were not even very good ones. I was arrested the 15th of Fructidor, and taken to La Force; tried on the 16th, and sentenced first to death, then, through clemency, to transportation.' "That's queer,' said I; 'these Directors must be very susceptible fellows, for that letter you know of orders me to shoot you.' "He did not answer, and smiled with a manly face enough for a boy of nineteen. He only looked at his wife, and wiped his forehead, on which stood big drops of sweat; I had as many on my face, too, and others in my eyes. I continued: "'It seems those citizens did not wish to do your business on shore; they thought that at sea it would not be so much noticed. But it's very hard for me! It's all of no use that you are such a fine fellow, I can't escape from it; the sentence of death is there complete, and the order for the execution signed and sealed; there's nothing omitted.' "He bowed very politely, though his face was crimsoned, and said, with a voice as sweet as usual: 'I ask for nothing, captain; I should be grieved to make you fail in your duty. I should only like to speak a moment to Laurette, and to entreat you to protect her, in case she should survive me,—which I do not think she will.' "'Ah! as for that, it is but right, my boy; and, if you have no objections, I will take her to her own family, on my return to France, and only leave her when she wishes to see me no more. But it strikes me you need not fear that she will recover from this blow—poor little soul!' "He took my two hands, pressed them, and said: "'My dear captain, you suffer more than I do, from what yet remains to be done. I feel it indeed, but it cannot be helped. I rely upon you to preserve for her the little that belongs to me, to watch over her, and to see that she receives whatever her aged mother may leave her, will you not? to guard her life, her honor; and that her health is also always well taken care of, will you not? You see,' he added, in a lower voice, 'I must tell you that she is very delicate, and often so much troubled by her breast as to faint several times a day. She must always keep herself well covered. In a word, you will take the place, as much as possible, of her father, her mother, and me, will you not? I should be glad if she could keep the rings her mother gave her. But, if it is necessary that they should be sold for her, be it so. My poor Laurette!—see how beautiful she is!' "As this began to be a little too tender, I became tired of it, and set to knitting my brows. I had spoken cheerfully to him so as not to weaken him, but I could stand it no longer. 'Enough,' said I, 'we understand each other. Go and speak to her, and let us make haste.' "I pressed his hand as a friend, and as he did not let it go, but kept looking at me with a singular expression, I added: 'I'll tell you what it is, if I had any advice to give you, it would be to say nothing to her about that matter. We will arrange the thing without her expecting it, nor you either; make yourself easy—that's my affair.' "'Ah!' said he, 'I did not know that. That will certainly be better. Besides, those farewells!—those farewells!—they weaken one.' "'Yes, yes,' said I, 'don't make a child of yourself, that's much the best way. Don't kiss her, if you can help it; if you do, you are lost.' "I gave him another good grasp of the hand, and left him. Oh! all this was very hard for me! "He seemed to me to keep the secret well; for they walked arm in arm for a quarter of an hour, and then returned to the edge of the water to take the rope and the dress which one of the cabin boys had fished up. "Night came on suddenly. It was the moment I had resolved to seize. But that moment has lasted me till the present time, and I shall drag it along all my life, like a cannon-ball." Here the old commandant was obliged to stop, and I took care not to speak, for fear of turning his ideas out of their channel. He began again, striking his breast: "That moment, I assure you, I can't understand it yet. I felt the deepest rage seize upon my whole heart, and at the same time something or other, I don't know what, was forcing me to obey, and pushing me forward. I summoned the officers and said to them: "'Come! a boat in the water, since we are now executioners. Put that girl into it, and keep rowing off until you hear the report of firing; you will then return.' "The idea of obeying a piece of paper that way!—for after all it was but that. There must have been something in the air which forced me on. I caught a glimpse of that young man—oh! it was horrible to see!—kneeling before his Laurette, and kissing her knees and her feet. Was n't it a hard case for me? I shouted like a madman, 'Separate them!—we are all a set of wretches—separate them! The poor Republic is a dead body—Directors, Directory, vermin all! I quit the sea for ever! I'm not afraid of all your lawyers! Let them tell them what I say—what do I care?' Oh! but I did care for them! I would have wished to have held them in my grasp, and shot them all five, the scoundrels! Oh, yes! I would have done it. I cared for my life about as much as for that water that's pouring there—yes, indeed,—as if I cared for that—a life like mine—ah, yes, indeed—mere life—bah—" And the voice of the commandant gradually went out, and became as indistinct as his words; and he walked on biting his lips and knitting his brows in a terrific and fierce abstraction. He had little twitching movements, and gave his mule knocks with the scabbard of his sword, as if he wished to kill it. And what astonished me was to see the yellow skin of his face flush to a deep red. He undid his coat on his breast, and threw it violently open, baring it to the rain and the wind. "I can well understand," said I, as though he had finished his story, "how, after so cruel an adventure, you should have taken an abhorrence to." "Oh! as for the business, are you crazy?" said he, quickly; "it is not the business. No captain of a vessel will ever be forced to turn executioner, except when governments of assassins and thieves get on foot, who will take advantage of the habit a poor man has of always obeying, blindly obeying with a miserable mechanical compulsion in spite of his very self." At the same time he drew out of his pocket a red handkerchief, and began to weep like a child. I stopped for a moment, as if to arrange my stirrup, and hanging back behind his wagon, walked some time after him, for I felt that he would be mortified if I perceived too plainly his streaming tears. I had judged rightly, for in about a quarter of an hour he also came behind the poor little wagon, and asked me if I had any razors in my portmanteau; to which I simply answered, that, as I had no beard yet, they would be very unnecessary to me. But he did not care about that; it was to speak of something else. I soon was glad to see that he was returning to his story, for he suddenly said: "You never have seen a ship, have you?" "I never have," answered I, "excepting in the Panorama of Paris, and I would not trust much to the nautical science I derived from that." "Then you do not know what the catheads are?" "I have not the least idea," said I. "They are a kind of beams projecting in front from the bows of the vessel, from which the anchor is thrown off. When a man is to be shot, he is usually placed there," he added in a low tone. "Oh! I understand, so that he then falls into the water?" He did not answer, but began to describe the small boats of a vessel. And then, and without any order in his ideas, he continued his tale, with that affected air of unconcern, which a long service in the army invariably gives, because you must show your inferiors your contempt of danger, your contempt of men, your contempt of life, your contempt of death, and even your contempt of yourself. And all this generally hides, under a rough envelope, very deep feelings. The roughness of a soldier is like a mask of iron over a noble face; like the stone dungeon that incloses a royal prisoner. "These boats hold more than eight rowers," he continued. "They seized Laurette and placed her in one, before she had time either to cry or to speak. Ah! this is a thing which no honest man can ever find comfort for when it has been his doing. You may talk as you please, one never forgets such an affair. Ah, what weather this is!—what the d—— could have possessed me to tell you all this? Whenever I begin this, I can't stop. It is a story which makes me fairly drunk like the Jurançon wine. Ah, what weather it is! My cloak is soaked through! "I was telling you, I believe, still about that little Laurette! Poor girl!—What clumsy people there are in the world! My sailors were so stupid as to take the boat straight ahead of the brig. After all, it's true one cannot foresee everything. For my own part, I had counted on the night to hide the matter, and did not think about the flash a dozen muskets would make, fired at once. And the fact is that from the boat she saw her husband fall into the water—shot. If there is a God up there, He only knows how what I am going to tell you took place; as for me, I know nothing about it, but it was seen and heard, as I see and hear you. At the moment of the fire, she raised her hand to her forehead, as if a ball had struck her there, and sat down in the boat without fainting, without screaming, and returned to the brig just when they wanted her, and just as they wanted her. I went to her, and talked to her a long time, the best I could. She seemed to be listening to me, and looked me in the face, rubbing her forehead with her hands. But she did not understand; and her face was quite pale, and her forehead red. She trembled all over, as if she was afraid of everybody. She has remained so ever since—in just the same state, poor little soul!—an idiot, or imbecile, as it were, or crazy, or whatever you please. Nobody has ever drawn a word out of her, except when she asks to have what she has in her head taken out. "From that hour I became as melancholy as herself, and I felt something in me which said: 'Stand by her till the end of thy days, and watch over her.' I have done it. When I returned to France, I asked leave to pass with my rank into the army, having taken an aversion to the sea, for the innocent blood I had cast into it. I sought out Laurette's family. Her mother was dead, and her sisters, to whom I brought her crazy, did not want the trouble of her, and offered to place her at Charanton. I turned my back upon them, and kept her with me. "If you want to see her, comrade, you have only to say the word. Here—hold on. Ho!—ho!—you beast!" III. How I Continued my Journey. And he stopped his poor mule, who seemed delighted that I had asked that question. At the same time he lifted the oilcloth cover of the little wagon, as if to arrange the straw, which nearly filled it, and I saw something very mournful. I saw two blue eyes, of enormous size, indeed, but of admirable shape, starting out from a face that was thin and lengthened, covered over with waves of loose, fair hair. In fact, I saw nothing but those two eyes, which seemed the whole of that poor woman, for all the rest was dead. Her forehead was red, and her cheeks hollow and pale, with a bluish tinge. She was bent double in the midst of the straw, so that only her two knees were seen out of it, on which she was playing dominoes all by herself. She looked at us for a moment, trembled for a long time, smiled a little at me, and went on with her game. She seemed to be trying to see how her right hand could beat her left. "You see, she has been playing that game for a month," said the chef-de-bataillon, "to-morrow it will, perhaps, be another game, which will last a long time. It's queer, eh?" At the same time he set about arranging the oilcloth of his shako, which the rain had somewhat disordered. "Poor Laurette!" said I, "ah, you have lost the game for ever!" I neared my horse to the wagon, and stretched out my hand to her; she gave me hers mechanically, and smiled with a great deal of sweetness. I observed with surprise two diamond rings on her long, thin fingers. I supposed they were still her mother's rings, and wondered how their poverty had left them there. For the world I would not have made a remark upon it to the old commandant, but as he followed my eyes, and saw them fixed on Laurette's fingers, he said, with a certain air of pride: "They are pretty large diamonds, are they not? They might bring a good price if necessary. But I was never willing that she should part from them, poor child! If you but touch them she weeps; and she never leaves them off. Otherwise she never complains; and now and then she can sew. I have kept my word to her poor young husband, and, to tell the truth, I have never repented it, I have never left her, and have always said she was my crazy daughter. As such she has always been respected. These things are managed better in the army than they imagine in Paris. She went through all the wars of the Emperor with me, and I have always kept her out of harm's way. She has always been kept warm; with straw and a little wagon that is never impossible. She has had pretty comfortable things about her; and as I was a chef-de-bataillon, with good pay, my legion of honor pension, and the Napoleon month, the pay of which was double in those times, I was always well off, and she gave me no trouble. On the contrary, her pretty childish ways often amused the officers of the light 7th." He then approached her, and slapped her gently on the shoulder, as he would have done to his little mule. "Well, now, my daughter, talk a little to the lieutenant. Come—let's see—a little sign of the head!" She busied herself anew with her dominoes. "Oh!" said he, "she is a little cross to-day, because it rains. However, she never takes cold. Crazy people never get sick, you know; it's very convenient in that respect. At the Beresina, and through all the retreat from Moscow, she went bare-headed. Come, my dear child, play on, play on—don't let us disturb you; take your own way, then, Laurette." She took hold of the coarse, black hand which he rested on her shoulder, and carried it timidly to her lips, like a poor slave. I felt my heart sink at that kiss, and turned my bridle quickly away. "Shall we not resume our march, commandant?" said I, "it will be night before we reach Bcthune." The commandant carefully scraped the mud from his boots with the end of his sword; he then mounted on the step of the wagon, drew forward over Laurette's head the hood of a little cloak she had on, took off his own black silk cravat, and put it round the neck of his adopted daughter; after which he gave a kick to his mule, and saying, "Get along, you lazy beast!" we continued our journey. The rain was still falling gloomily; we found on the road only dead horses, abandoned, with their saddles. The gray sky and gray earth stretched out without end; a sort of dead light, a pale wet sun was sinking behind some large windmills, which did not turn, and we fell back into a long silence. I looked at the old commandant; he walked on with long strides and untiring energy, whilst his mule could hardly keep along, and even my horse began to droop his head. The brave old fellow took off his shako from time to time, to wipe his bald forehead and the few gray hairs on his head, or his white moustache from which the rain was dripping. He did not think anything about the effect his recital might have produced on me; he had made himself out neither better nor worse than he was; he had not deigned to draw himself; he did not think of himself; and at the end of a quarter of an hour, he began on the same key a much longer story of a campaign of Marshal Massena, in which he had formed his battalion in a square against some cavalry or other. I did not listen to him, although he grew quite warm, in endeavoring to prove to me the superiority of infantry over cavalry. Night came on; we did not get along fast; the mud became thicker and deeper. Nothing on the road, and nothing at the end of it. We stopped at the foot of a dead tree, the only tree on the road; he bestowed his first cares on his mule, as I did on my horse; he then looked into the wagon, as a mother would have done into the cradle of her child. I heard him say: "Come, my dear, put this overcoat on your feet, and try to sleep. Come, that is right! she has not been touched by a drop of rain. Ah, the d—— she has broken my watch which I had left round her neck. Oh, my poor silver watch! Come, come, it's no matter, my child, try to sleep. The fine weather will soon come back again. It's queer, she always has a fever—that's the way with crazy people—see, here is some chocolate for you, my child." He rested the wagon against the tree, and we sat down on the wheels, under cover from the everlasting rain, each with a little loaf,—a poor supper. "I am sorry we have nothing but this," said he, "but it is better than horseflesh baked under ashes, with powder for salt, such as we had in Russia. The poor little soul, I must always give her the best I have; you see, I put it on one side for her; she cannot bear to suffer the vicinity of a man, since the affair of the letter. I am old, and she seems to fancy me to be her father; yet she would strangle me, if I attempted to kiss her, even upon her forehead. Their early education must always leave some impression on them, for I have never seen her once forget to veil herself like a nun. It's queer, eh?" Whilst he was thus talking to me, we heard her sigh and say: "Take away this lead! take away this lead!" I rose in spite of myself; he made me sit down again. "Stay, stay," said he; "it is no matter. She says that all her life, because she always fancies she feels a ball in her head. That does not hinder her doing all that she is told to do, and that with the greatest sweetness." I listened mournfully to him, but without any reply. I calculated that, from 1797 to 1815, eighteen years had thus passed with this man. I remained a long while in silence by his side, trying to explain to myself such a character, and such a fate. I then abruptly gave him an enthusiastic shake of the hand; he did not know what to make of it. "You are a worthy man," said I. "What for?" he answered. "Because of this poor woman? You see perfectly well, my boy, that was a duty." And he began to talk again about Massena. The next morning, by daylight, we arrived at Béthune, an ugly little fortified town, the ramparts of which, in narrowing their circle, seemed to have squeezed the houses together upon each other. All was in confusion; it was the moment of an alerte. The inhabitants were taking the white flags from the windows, and sewing the tricolors to their houses; the arms were beating the générale, and the trumpets sounded to horse! by order of the Duc de Berry. The long Picard wagons carrying the Hundred-Swiss and their baggage, the cannons of the Body-Guard hurrying to their ramparts, the carriages of the princes, the mustering the squadrons of the red companies, blocked up the town. The sight of the Gens-d'armes of the king, and the Mousquetaires, made me forget my old travelling companion. I rejoined my company, and lost sight of the little wagon and its poor occupant in the crowd. To my great regret, it was for ever that I lost them. It was the first time in my life that I had read the depths of the true heart of a soldier. This adventure revealed to me an aspect of human nature, which I had not seen before, and which the nation little knows and ill rewards. I placed it from that time high in my esteem. I have often since sought around me for a man like that one, and capable of such an entire and careless abnegation of self. During the fourteen years I have lived in the army, it is only there, and above all in the poor and despised ranks of the infantry, that I have found those men of an antique stamp carrying out the feeling of duty to all its possible consequences; knowing neither remorse for obedience, nor shame for poverty; simple in their manners, and in their speech; proud of the glory of the nation, but careless of their own; shutting themselves up cheerfully in their own obscurity, to divide with the unfortunate the black bread they pay for with their blood. I remained long ignorant of what had become of my poor chef-de-bataillon, especially as he had not told me his name, and I had not asked him. One day, however, at a coffee-house, I believe in 1825, an old captain of infantry to whom I was describing him, as we were waiting for parade, said: "Eh, pardieu, I knew that poor devil! He was a brave fellow,—he came down by a ball at Waterloo. And he had, in fact, left a crazy girl with the baggage, whom we took to the hospital at Amiens, as we went to the army of the Loire, and who died there raving mad, at the end of three days." "I can readily imagine it," said I, "she had lost her foster-father."

2013 $50 Weekly Menu Plan Week#40: Pumpkin, Pumpkin everywhere! Autumn is our favorite time of year, there’s a chill in the air and we get to finally bake scrumptious recipes that fill the house with […] Looking for a dish with Wow- Factor? Sausage and Eggplant-Stuffed Shells in a Tomato-Basil Cream Sauce is just the thing! This dish isn’t for beginner cooks, but it’s certainly worth the effort . . . This delicious, moist bread offers tons of flavor, low fat content and disappeared within seconds of coming out of the oven because the family just couldn’t keep their hands off it! A little bit of heat coupled with cilantro, scallions and loads of flavorful seasonings, these Juicy turkey burgers will hit the spot with even the pickiest of eaters! 2013 $50 Weekly Menu Plan Week#38: Autumn is the perfect time of year for us, cooler weather means hearty crockpot dishes for dinner, apple picking, pumpkin picking and so much more. This weeks menu plan […] These savory sweet potato fries are an excellent way to take advantage of a healthy vegetable that is loaded with vitamin A, fiber and potassium. They have an additional benefit as well, they’re cheap & […] Bring the flavors of fall into your own kitchen with this amazingly easy Apple Cider Donut recipe that can be baked or fried, depending on your personal preference. A richly decadent pumpkin ice cream that tastes like sweet pumpkin pie with every bite! It makes delicious ice cream sandwiches when paired with vanilla sugar cookies . . .

First Honeybush Farming Guide Launched A new guide that will help small and emerging farmers to get started with this indigenous crop has been launched by the Agricultural Research Council. 1 August 2012, Stellenbosch Researchers at the Agricultural Research Council (ARC) have developed a stepby-step guide on how to farm with honeybush tea. The guide provides practical tips – illustrated by photos – on topics ranging from how to prepare the soil through how to harvest the bushes. The research team hopes that this guide will encourage interest in honeybush farming and help farmers to farm more profitably, since there is a growing global demand for this unique tea that only grows in South Africa’s Southern and Eastern Cape. This honeybush research project was led by Prof. Lizette Joubert, with technical research done by Marlise Joubert – both at the ARC’s Infruitec-Nietvoorbij research institute outside Stellenbosch. “We hope that this guide will help to boost South Africa’s current honeybush crop of about 200 tonnes per year, and that future growth in this industry will come from commercial honeybush plantations (farming) instead of wild harvesting,” explains Marlise Joubert. “Currently, about 80% of South Africa’s honeybush crop is wild harvested and only about 20% is cultivated. We must reverse this ratio in order to relieve unsustainable pressure on wild honeybush populations. Honeybush farming must be profitable, but we also have a responsibility to ensure that honeybush farming is sustainable in the long term and environmentally friendly. |Emerging farmers were given the opportunity to comment on the honeybush farming guide during a focus group held at Genadendal on 23 July 2012. From left to right: Jocubus Pernell, Ernest August, Rosalynn le Roux, Abraham Joorst and Gertrude Olivier. “The guide is based on ten years of research and bits of information that we have gathered from honeybush farmers,” Marlise Joubert adds. “We don’t have all the answers yet, but this guide should go a long way towards helping newly interested farmers to farm honeybush sustainably and profitably. “Despite the fact that honeybush is part of the fynbos vegetation that occurs naturally in the area from Piketberg to Port Elizabeth, it can be tricky to cultivate. There are several species that are farmed commercially and farmers need to understand the unique requirements regarding the area, soil and climate of each one in order to farm successfully with this crop.” Using the first draft of the honeybush farming guide, a team from the ARC held discussions with established and newly interested farmers in order to make sure that the guide is easy to understand and that it provides answers to farmers’ questions about cultivating this crop. The first focus group involved emerging farmers from Genadendal, Bereaville and Spanjaardskloof, while the second focus group targeted farmers and processors in the Overberg, Tsitsikamma and Langkloof. |Fritz Joubert, one of South Africa’s pioneer honeybush farmers with Karina Gerber, a new farmer potentially interested in the crop. “I am sure this guide will be invaluable to new farmers and I wish I had this information available when I first started farming with honeybush,” said Mr Fritz Joubert, one of South Africa’s pioneers in honeybush farming who has been cultivating this crop near Pearly Beach since 1996. With an estimated 30 ha of honeybush plantations, Fritz Joubert is currently also one of the largest honeybush producers in the country and he still has plans to expand his honeybush plantations. The guide is available free of charge from the ARC. Contact Marlise Joubert: SMS 083-3888-312 / Tel: 021 809 3331, email: The development of the guide was co-funded by the project on indigenous knowledge systems of the Department of Science and Technology via the National Research Foundation. More information on honeybush: Notes for editors - SA Honeybush Tea Association (SAHTA): www.sahoneybush.co.za - Agricultural Research Council: http://www.arc.agric.za/home.asp?pid=4045 - High-resolution honeybush photos: http://www.sahta.co.za/photos/general-honeybush-photos.html - To get hold of the images used in this media release, email - For media interviews, contact Marlise Joubert: Mobile: 083-3888-312, email: - Like rooibos, honeybush is a uniquely South African herbal tea. - It is made from the leaves and stems of the indigenous Cyclopia shrub that grows naturally in specific fynbos regions in an area ranging from Piketberg in the Western Cape to Port Elizabeth in the Eastern Cape. - The 23 known honeybush species – all belonging to the genus Cyclopia – each has a characteristic distribution in nature. Some species prefer sandy coastal plains, while others flourish on cool, moist mountain slopes. - Most of South Africa’s honeybush crop comes from people harvesting wild-growing honeybush – especially Cyclopia intermedia (“bergtee”). A small, but growing number of farmers grow specific species, such as Cyclopia subternata (“vleitee”) and Cyclopia genistoides (“kustee” or “coastal tea”) commercially. - South Africa currently exports about 150 tonnes of honeybush tea per year to more than 25 countries, but the demand for honeybush far outstrips the supply. Consumers around the world are increasingly interested in honeybush tea, because of its unique flavour and health properties. Honeybush can also be used in value-added foods, medicines and cosmetics. - The ARC encourages sustainable honeybush farming – rather than the harvesting of wild honeybush – as the key to realising the significant growth potential of this young industry. Ongoing ARC research focuses on sustainable and profitable honeybush farming, specifically for emerging farmers. Issued by: Southern Science ( ) on behalf of the Agricultural Research Council (Honeybush Tea Indigenous Knowledge Project). |A group of emerging honeybush farmers from Genadendal, Bereaville and Spanjaardskloof with copies of the new honeybush farming guide released by the ARC, 23 July 2012

Next time you are waiting in a grocery store checkout line, pay attention to the magazines in the rack nearby. Particularly, notice the specialty magazines focused on health and weight loss, the ones with a seemingly endless supply of articles with titles like “The Guilt-Free Way to Shed Fifteen Pounds” or “Lose Inches in Just Ten Days!” I’ve done this and observed how the articles listed and the cover photos often directly contradict one another. That is, the article may say you can “Lose Inches in Just Ten Days”, but next to it, you’re likely to find a picture of a cake or a pie, some frosted cupcakes or a fruit-filled pastry, the very kinds of foods that we all know pack pounds on with unforgiving efficiency. We may know very well that these are guilty pleasures, but the presentation here is meant to make us forget or downplay what we know. Can you believe that? They actually try to sell us on weight loss with the kind of fatty and calorie-rich food that caused us to gain weight in the first place. And they have no better weapon than that photogenic classic, the chocolate cake with chocolate frosting, so moist, and with such creamy, rich frosting. It’s the most seductive image in the baking world (which is why it’s on the cover more often than any other thing). These magazine covers are a total come-on, an illogical, completely emotional, and semi-subliminal messaging which nonetheless is wickedly effective (judging by their sales figures). These guys aren’t fools. They know just how to play on our gullibility and hopefulness, and the money rolls in (to them) when we do. Think of all the suspect messages we are given in our culture. Here are a few: 1. You can be anything you want! – Not true, since your natural skill, among other things, limits how far you will progress with any endeavor. 2. Don’t be afraid of a risk. – Oprah can say this because she has a wide skill set and a bazillion dollars in the bank, but most of us have to work hard to build any security, and can’t afford to jeopardize it on a dream that isn’t pretty much guaranteed to pay off. 3. Always be yourself and say what you think. – Some people who do this are just jerks! Well, I certainly don’t want to be discouraging and defeatist. The point would really be that we all need to be pretty aware of the messages we are given, and to challenge them. Not to do so leaves us open to manipulation because these messages are strong, and like I pointed out earlier, get us right where we are vulnerable – in our sense of ourselves, our desire to improve, and the wish to achieve this without too much pain. And the next thing you know, you are on a Chocolate Cake Diet and wondering why it doesn’t work out.

Perdue Foods is part of Perdue Farms, a family-owned company heading into it's second century of growth and innovation. With a goal of becoming the most trusted name in premium proteins, we create products for consumers and for retail and foodservice customers around the globe, while changing the way animals are raised for food. This production position works in a production area processing poultry products. Requires working with live poultry, raw and/or cooked products. Typical assignments may include live hang, debone, cut up, evisceration, marination, stack off, Multivac, overwrap and/or sanitation. Usually works five to six days a week ; overtime may be required based on production needs. Principal and Essential Duties & Responsibilities Works at various stations along the production line processing poultry food products. Adheres to all safety requirements including PPE (Personal Protective Equipment), preventing and reporting unsafe acts and conditions, Lockout-Tagout procedures and Process Safety Management related matters. Maintains clean and safe working environment. Participates in Company and department safety programs. High School or equivalent not required but beneficial. Worked a minimum of 6 months of consecutive work history with one employer within the past 3 years. Experience in poultry processing/manufacturing environment preferred. Environmental Factors and Physical Requirements When in a plant environment: Exposure primarily consists of wet and moist floors which include metal and plastic grating surfaces. May be exposed to temperatures of 28 degrees to 100 degrees Fahrenheit with both ambient and 100% humidity. May handle product 25 degrees to 50 degrees Fahrenheit. May be exposed to noise ranges of 50 db to 110 db. May be exposed to dust, feathers and all chemicals used in poultry, food, processing facility. Must wear and use protective and safety equipment required for the job as directed by the Company. Occasional exposure to carbon dioxide vapors 10ppm and chlorine less than 20 ppm. Able to stand for several hours. Work may include lifting (up to 50 lbs), reaching, bending, pushing boxes on conveyor assembly. Perdue Farms, Inc. is an Equal Opportunity / Affirmative Action employer. All qualified applicants will receive consideration for employment without regard to race, color, religion, sex, sexual orientation, gender identity, national origin, disability, or protected veteran status.

For those of you who don’t have time to read a long post, here’s a summary so you can decide what’s relevant to you: - Don’t clean your lens unless you’re actually seeing spots, areas of low contrast or fuzziness in your images. The first part of this post provides an example and links to other examples on what it looks like when stuff on your lens shows up in your images. - If you do clean your lens, be gentle to avoid doing more harm than good. Take the time to go to the second part of this post and read the referenced article before you start cleaning. - Before you have your sensor cleaned, make sure your problem really is dirt on your sensor. The last part of this post provides a tip and a link to step-by-step instructions on testing whether your sensor is dirty. Recognizing When You Need to Clean the Lens It always amazes me how much debate there can be over seemingly simple topics in photography. However, most experienced photographers tend to agree on this one: your lens doesn’t usually need to be all that clean. I confess, I hate to clean a lens. I don’t do it unless I really have to. When it comes to my lenses, when I first started getting “serious” about photography, one of my mentors warned me that cleaning a lens too vigorously could damage the coatings on the lens and cause more problems than the dirt. This made me so paranoid that I was afraid to clean my lenses. What I discovered was that the crud on my lens didn’t show up in my images, so I was convinced it really wasn’t worth risking damaging the lens to clean it. Then, a few years ago, I found myself shooting outdoors in the middle of the day a lot more frequently than I would prefer. When this led to experimenting with more shots that include a lot of bright sunlight, I suddenly started getting images with blurry flare spots all over the place. Advised that I had a dirty sensor, I took my camera in and had the sensor cleaned. But that didn’t solve the problem. My problem was the dust on my lens. Since then, I’ve learned a few things about troubleshooting spots in your images. First, there’s lens flare, which can occur regardless of how clean your equipment is. But, when you have dust on your lens, if light strikes the front lens at the wrong angle, the dust can also contribute to seeing lots of flare spots in your image. In the following example, some of the flare is not attributable to dust, but the large number of large, bright blurry spots indicate there was dust on my lens and the sun was hitting them just right: One of the challenges of this problem is that it may occur quite infrequently. This was shot at 28mm and f/20–both the wide angle and the stopped down aperture make it more likely that flare will turn up in the image. The inclusion of the sun in the image also meant my lens hood wasn’t going to block direct light from hitting the front lens element, which is the root of flare problems. However, in this case, I wanted lens flare to show in the image. I wasn’t, however, bargaining for an entire sky full of blurry bright spots! Since cleaning the lens, the problem has been reduced to “normal” lens flare. But the caution I received so many years ago remains true–over cleaning your lens is more damaging than under cleaning–you really only need to clean the lens if your images are affected. Here is an amazing article that shows just how little stuff on your lens may show up in your images–it’s definitely worth the read: Dirty Lens Article. In spite of what the Dirty Lens Article demonstrates, this is not a justification for abusing your lens. First, just like the dust on my lens did not show in my images the vast majority of the time, damage to the lens will also show up under different circumstances. Note that Munger’s examples with named aperture settings were all at f/5.6. As mentioned earlier, flares are more likely to show up when you’re stopped down. Second, even if you don’t care if your lens is in pristine condition, should you ever want to sell your lens, your buyer probably will. How to Clean the Lens When you do clean your lens, remember that less is more. You don’t want to rub at the lens like you’re cleaning a window. Instead, try starting with a fun little toy called a blower. I particularly like the Giottos Rocket Air Blaster. It doubles as a fascinating conversation piece should you decide to keep it on display in your living room. By using a blower, you can shoot dry air (unlike when you blow with your mouth) across the lens to blow away any loose dust on the lens. Dry air does a better job lifting away dust than moist air. Plus, do you really want to know how much spit you spray when you blow on something? Some people like to use a very soft brush after the blower to brush away more stubborn dust. The idea is to remove anything that might be abrasive gently so that it doesn’t scratch the lens or the coatings on the lens. When you start rubbing at the lens with a cloth, you can effectively turn dust particles into sand paper, abrading those special coating that do things like reduce flare. I skip the brush step and do the next step very, very gently. When I first attempted lens cleaning, I bought fancy lens cleaning fluid and cleaning papers. I put a few drops of cleaning fluid on the paper and gently wiped the lens. Later, I adopted Ken Rockwell’s approach of breathing on the lens to fog it up instead of using cleaning fluid. (That article is still available and includes additional tips for using methyl alcohol to clean stubborn spots: How to Clean Lenses, Monitors, Filters and CCDs.) I also switched from using cleaning papers to microfiber chamois clothes–the main problem with the paper for me was gently getting rid of streaks without having my fingers slip off the paper and create new fingerprints. But then, I have below-average coordination. If you are going to go to the trouble of cleaning your lens, clean the back element as well as the front (at the end that attaches to the camera). According to Nasim Mansurov, rear element dust shows up as dark specks in the out-of-focus portions of the image. He shows an example in this article. Dust on the Rear Element vs Dust on the Sensor Since dust on the sensor also shows up as dark spots on images, it’s probably worth cleaning the rear element before having your sensor cleaned (or cleaning it yourself). If you want to be positive whether it’s the lens or the sensor, take test shots using two different lenses based on the instructions in this article from Jeff Guyer, Got Sensor Dust? Check. See if the spots show in the same places even when you switch lenses. This will guarantee there’s no confusion between lens dust and sensor dust.

Amazon related products Zojirushi NS-LAC05 Rice Cooker – A Fine Choice Price Range: High Rice Quality: Excellent Benefits & Features: Several Pros vs. Cons: Pros Outweigh Cons Overall Rating: Excellent The only two major cons this Zojirushi NS-LAC05 rice cooker has working against it is its small cup capacity and no steaming feature. Other than that, this Zojirushi 3 cup rice cooker excels in almost every area and is worth the high price tag, (granted folks plan to use it to cook rice often). If not, perhaps a less expensive rice cooker is a better choice. Having stated that, for daily use the NS-LAC05 is perfect for making white rice, brown rice, mixed rice, oatmeal, and porridge. The cooker uses Fuzzy Logic technology which explained on other pages monitors how the rice is cooking adjusting temperature and cooking time instead of just rapidly boiling it until there is no more water left. This means that every batch of rice will be consistent every time. The easy to use digital interface features a large LCD panel which allows folks to select the grain type as well as programming a start/finish time for added convenience. When the rice is finished the Zojirushi NS-LAC05 will play a little jingle and switch into a warm mode keeping the rice moist, fluffy, and at a ready-to-eat temperature until the user is ready to serve. The inner bowl is non stick and is easy to clean using a soft sponge with mild soap. The unit comes with a manual, measuring cup, and plastic rice spatula for scratch proof serving. Overall, this Zojirushi rice cooker is worth the investment as it takes the guess work out of cooking rice and was specifically designed to be as fool-proof as possible! The only thing folks will have to bear with is the long cooking times (especially for brown rice). Remember that this cooker is not only soaking the rice before fully cooking it, but is also using technology to sort of “slow cook” the rice so that it has the best texture and flavor possible. But let us mention again that there is a programmable timer on this Zojirushi NS-LAC05 unit. - easy to use - non stick & easy to clean - multiple rice settings & great rice quality - attractive design - maintains consistency (using correct water measurements) - timer function - fits snug on counter tops and has a clutter free retractable power cord - no food steaming feature - long cook times (40 to 120 minutes depending on rice type) - cup size not ideal for larger households - high price tag Where to Buy a Zojirushi Rice Cooker To conclude, another important thing for us to mention is that if folks are considering the Zojirushi NS-LAC05 for making mostly white rice, there really isn’t going to be a major difference in quality compared to less expensive micro-computerized units. While it is true that white rice will have greater texture and flavor when compared, this unit should be purchased for its diverse benefits as well. We have heard several customer feedback comments that state this Zojirushi 3 cup rice cooker makes brown rice to near perfection which is sometimes challenging to get just right. Overall, another great model in the Zojirushi rice cooker line up! Tip: to prolong the internal battery life keep the unit plugged in. Keep in mind that the cooker will still perform properly without the battery as it just runs the clock when the unit is unplugged. Life of battery is approx. 4 yrs. Measurements: 12 x 9 x 8 Inches | 3 Cup Capacity (9 Cups Cooked Rice)

2018 SnowEx SP-9300XH Call for Price Offering huge capacities up to 6 cubic yards, Super Maxx™ II Series spreaders keep you out on the road for longer application intervals on the largest jobs. Super Maxx II models are equipped with a wide variety of original features that contribute to a simplified user experience, from setup and maintenance to operational efficiency. - Empty Weight: 989 lb. (448.6 kg) - Overall Length: 144 in. (365.6 cm) - Overall Height: 43 in. (109.2 cm) - Overall Width: 54 in. (137.1 cm) - Floor Length: 144 in. (365.6 cm) - Floor Width: 54 in. (137.1 cm) - Hopper Length: 108 in. (274.3 cm) - Hopper Width: 54 in. (137.1 cm) - Capacity (Volume): Struck 3.2 cu. yd; Rounded 3.5 cu. yd. (Struck 2.6 cu. m; Rounded 2.8 cu. m) - Capacity (Weight): 7,700 lb. (3,493 kg) - Spreading Width: Up to 40 ft. (Up to 12.2 m) - Speed Control: Digital, self-diagnosing dual variable-speed control with auto reverse - Wiring Harness: Multiple gauge wiring harness with weather-tight plugs and connectors - Frame: Heavy-duty steel with enhanced corrosion control finish with unique 6-part organic top coat process - Hopper: One-piece LLDPE safety yellow poly with integral vertical rib construction - Motors: Hydraulic - Spinner Drive Assembly: Compact, independent weather-resistant (spinner assembly is stowable for transport - Spinner: 12 in. heavy-duty stainless steel adjustable cu.pped fin spinner (for varying spread pattern) (30.5 cm heavy-duty stainless steel adjustable cupped fin spinner (for varying spread pattern)) - Auger Drive Assembly: Heavy-duty solid steel construction with maximum-torque motor transmission drive - Auger: 7 in. heavy-duty variable pitch steel flighting (17.8 cm heavy-duty variable pitch steel flighting) - Mounting: Truck bed mounted with tie-down straps and controls - Top Screen: Hinged heavy-duty steel rod construction with grid pattern - Cover: Fitted tarp - Vibrator: Standard heavy-duty 12-volt DC - Inverted: Patented vibrating inverted "V" to maximize material flow - Brake Light: Yes - Work Light: Yes - Wet/Dry Delivery: Within a unique pre-wet chamber, the auger feed system mixes brine with the spreading material before delivering it to the spinner. - Cab Forward Design : The cab forward hopper delivers better payload distribution to reduce stress on the truck. - Stowable Spinner Housing : When not in use, the low-profile spinner assembly can be flipped into the upright position for easy storage, providing full hitch access for towing. - Adjustable Spinner : The 12-inch stainless steel spinner contains adjustable cups and a deflector for maximum control over spread pattern. - Digital Speed Control : The integrated pendant-style control has a digital readout and dials for independently adjusting the variable-speed spinner and auger. - Heavy-Duty Auger Transmission : Each spreader's heavy-duty auger transmission powers material through the spreader easily and efficiently. - Pre-Wet Integration : Users can choose to have the spreaders equipped with an optional pre-wet liquid tank system. - Frame Coating : Durable steel frame includes enhanced corrosion control finish with 6-part organic top coat process. - Fitted Tarp: A tarp fitted to the spreader's dimensions protects material from outside weather elements. - Top Screen: Top screen ensures material that enters the hopper is consistent size by breaking up any clumps and filters out large debris to ensure proper operation. - Vibrator: Attached vibrator reduces material clumping for continuous material flow. - Inverted “V" : Patented vibrating baffle configuration maximizes material flow. - Lighting: FMVSS 108 rated brake light and LED safety strobe work light offer better equipment visibility in dark or snowy conditions. (Strobe light feature NOT included on the 9300 models.) - Salt Traxx®: Records useful jobsite data, such as the amount of time and material spent on each job. Integrates with select spreader controls. - Vibrator Kit: Assists in material flow. Ideal for non free-flowing material, such as salt/sand mix, bulk salt or moist material (wiring harness included). - 989 lb. (448.6 kg) - Hopper Capacity - Struck 3.2 cu. yd; Rounded 3.5 cu. yd. (Struck 2.6 cu. m; Rounded 2.8 cu. m)

Intensely-pigmented cream lipstick formula. The moisture-rich formula helps make lips feel comfortable and soft. brown with a warm, yellow undertone Argan, Olive, Meadowfoam, Camelina, Grape Seed, Murumuru & Macadamia Seed Oils help keep lips healthy and moist. Mango and Shea Butter hydrate and condition lips. The full list of ingredients is available upon request.

N Busen, M Tompkins education, genital, medicine, mucosal lesions, nursing, nursing school, patient care, surgery, white plaques, white sponge nevus N Busen, M Tompkins. Perianal White Sponge Nevus In A Hispanic Female: A Case Study. The Internet Journal of Dermatology. 2000 Volume 1 Number 1. This article presents a case history of white sponge nevus (WSN) in the perianal area of a 23-year-old Hispanic female. WSN is a rare, autosomal dominant disorder that affects the noncornified stratified squamous epithelia. Clinically, the lesions are characterized by the presence of white, spongy plaques in the oral cavity. Extraoral lesions are found in other mucosal sites but are relatively uncommon in the absence of oral manifestations. Because WSN is rare, the differential diagnosis of this lesion may be difficult and the diagnosis is best made by a tissue biopsy performed in the context of a detailed patient and family history. The problems associated with differential diagnosis are addressed. Diagnosing lesions in the genital area by appearance can sometimes prove elusive as illustrated by the case of a 23-year-old Hispanic female who presented to an urban college health clinic with a long-standing complaint of a pruritic, white lesion in the anogenital area. Although the patient had numerous diagnoses and treatments over a five year period, the lesion remained unchanged. The patient is a 23-year-old Hispanic female who presents to a college health clinic for the diagnosis and management of a “white, itchy spot” in her genital area. In the past five years, she states that she has been evaluated, diagnosed, and treated for the same condition at several other clinics and private practices. She was previously diagnosed and treated for a yeast infection and anal warts, for this same complaint, with no resolution of symptoms. She has looked up these conditions, for which she was treated, on the internet and does not feel that she was appropriately diagnosed. Past Medical History The patient’s general health is reportedly good. The patient was successfully treated for chlamydia in 1994 and has had no other sexually transmitted diseases. She started menstruating at age 12 and became sexually active in her late teens. She has been taking oral contraceptive pills (OCPs) intermittently for the past 5 years when sexually active. She reports a monogamous relationship at present. She infrequently uses condoms for contraception and would like to start on OCPs again. She does not smoke and denies use of alcohol. She states that her mother (aged 48 years) is currently being treated for an aggressive cervical cancer, a fact that makes her more anxious about her condition. She denies that any other immediate family members have a similar condition or that she has any similar lesions elsewhere on her body. In a lithotomy position, the lesion is easily visible. The patient has a 3-4 cm diameter lesion around her anus. The lesion is a white, lichenified, well-defined plague with a ruggated or corrugated surface (See figures1 and 2). A small amount of scar tissue is visible around a partial perimeter of the lesion, which could be a result of past treatment for anogenital warts. There are no other lesions in the genital area on both internal and external exam. There are no other lesions that extend into the anal canal or the vaginal vault. The physical and pelvic exam are completely within normal limits. There are no nail or skin abnormalities and no lymphadenopathy. The oral cavity is clean and the teeth are in good condition. No lesions are noted in the nose or throat. The Pap smear obtained shows inflammation for the second time in 15 months. The lesion appeared somewhat dystrophic and was initially thought to be a dystrophic condition, lichen planus, or lichen sclerosis. Given the mother’s problems with cervical cancer, and the patient’s five-year history of this lesion, the patient was referred. Referral, Clinical Diagnosis and Treatment The nurse practitioners who examined this patient felt that she would benefit from an evaluation by a dermatologist who could more definitively diagnose the lesion by biopsy. Although the patient had no insurance and little money, she was evaluated at a local university dermatology service and a 4 mm punch biopsy of the lesion was obtained. The preliminary diagnosis was white sponge nevus. The pathology report noted parakeratosis, acanthosis and papillomatosis consistent with a diagnosis of white sponge nevus. The patient was informed of the diagnosis and encouraged to keep the area as dry as possible and to use an antipruritic cream such as Aveeno anti-itch cream. She was instructed to monitor the lesion and consult dermatology for any changes. Because the condition is considered benign, no additional treatment was necessary. A search of dermatological and gynecological literature revealed very little about white sponge nevus in the genital area. More information was available on this lesion in the oral cavity and was retrieved from the dermatological and dental literature. White sponge nevus (WSN) is a relatively rare, autosomal dominant abnormality of the squamous epithelia 1,2,. If one parent demonstrates this condition, 50% of future progeny could demonstrate the condition as well. The lesions were first described by Hyde in 19033 and then in 1935, Cannon discussed the clinical and histological aspects and coined the term “white sponge nevus”4. The condition is congenital, although it may not present (or be discovered) until childhood or adolescence 2. Males and females are equally affected. Mutations in keratin 4 (K4) and keratin 13 (K13) genes have been shown to be responsible for WSN1. The disease occurs most commonly as mucosal lesions in the oral cavity and is typically found in family members. Penetrance (the percentage of individuals with a mutation that actually demonstrate the phenotypic change) is high (87%) 5 with family involvement reported through five generations 6. Patients who report no family history of WSN most likely represent a sporadic genetic mutation, and their off-spring would be no more likely to demonstrate the condition than would occur by chance mutation 7. Less frequently, extraoral sites are involved that include the mucous membranes of the nose, esophagus, rectum, and vulvovaginal area. Rarely, do extraoral lesions occur without oral manisfestations 6. There is a wide variability in size and location but anogenital lesions are relatively rare, with only two cases reported by the current literature review 6,7. Clinically, the lesions of WSN present as bilateral, soft, white, spongy plaques on the oral mucosa and extraoral sites and plaques have a folded or corrugated appearance. The plaques are frequently described as having a velvety or rugose surface 2,5,8. The buccal mucosa is most frequently affected, followed by the labial and gingival mucosa, and the floor of the mouth 5. Plaques may also be present along the lateral borders of the tongue 2. The plaque is thick and may peel away from the mucosal surface. The white color does not diminish when the tissue is stretched in any mucosal site 2. The clinical presentation of WSN varies among individuals. Different areas of the oral mucosa and extraoral sites will vary from patient to patient, and the distribution of lesions can change with time in the same patient, although generally lesions remain unchanged 1,9. Although one case of squamous cell carcinoma was reported arising in a WSN 10, the disease is believed to have a benign clinical course1. The lesions of WSN are generally painless and asymptomatic, although some patients have complained of pruritis (as did our patient), burning (especially after contact by an irritant), and, with oral involvement, dry mouth and roughness of the mouth and tongue 6,7,11. Diagnosis and Management The diagnosis of WSN is made by patient history, family history, and tissue biopsy using a Papanicolaou-stained smear and/or light and electron microscopy1. DNA and RNA extraction may be done with blood from the patient and family members and reverse transcriptase-polymerase chain reaction (RT-PCR) and direct sequencing may be done to detect the exact genotype1,2. Features such as epidermal hyperplasia, acanthosis (hypertrophy of the prickle cell layer), hyperkeratosis, parakeratosis, and intracellular edema (within the cells of the spinous layer of the squamous epithelia) are diagnostic of WSN 2,5,8. There also may be extensive cytoplasmic vacuolization (excessive formation of spaces among the cells), the cell nuclei may be pyknotic (with thickening and shrinkage of the nuclei), and the adjacent tissue normal 5,12. The differential diagnosis of oral WSN includes consideration of inherited and acquired conditions (See table 1). Pachyonychia congenita, hereditary benign intraepithelial dyskeratosis and Darier disease are inherited mucosal syndromes characterized by white oral plaques but have clinical features that distinguish them from WSN 2,8,12. Pachyonychia congenita and Darier disease are characterized by nail dystrophy and skin involvement; pachyonychia congenita causes hyperkeratosis of the palms and soles, follicular keratosis of the knees and elbows, and hyperhydrosis of the hands and feet 2,8,12. Patients with hereditary benign intraepithelial dyskeratosis develop foamy, gelatin-like plaques on the bulbar conjunctiva that may eventually lead to blindness as a result of vascularization of the cornea 2,12. Nonhereditary white lesions of the oral cavity are numerous. The most common lesions that may be confused with WSN are leukoedema, leukoplakia, candida, cheek biting and lichen planus2. Leukoedema has no familial history, a late onset, an intermittent course, is found on the buccal mucosa and occurs primarily in blacks (90%)2. There are no extraoral lesions with leukoedema. A clinically diagnostic feature that distinguishes leukoedema from WSN, is that the white lesions disappear when the mucosal tissue is stretched2. Leukoplakia, a milky white, slightly elevated plaque, occurs on the buccal mucosa and is firm in consistency13. Leukoplakia generally occurs in adults (40-70 years) and is usually localized to one site. Leukoplakia can be confirmed by biopsy, which shows atypical keratinocytes, abnormal mitosis, cell and nuclear pleomorphism, and enlarged or multiple nucleoli13. Candidiasis involves white “curd-like” lesions, which are easily scrapped off the tongue and bucccal mucosa, and a potassium hydroxide (KOH) preparation demonstrates budding yeast and pseudohyphae14. Cheek biting displays macerated tissue and occurs only in areas of the mouth where the teeth can make contact with the mucosa. Oral lichen planus involves the buccal mucosa bilaterally but presents as an interlacing network of white striae, which differentiates the lesions from WSN; the diagnosis is generally based on clinical presentation13. As in most cases, a good patient history provides the clinician with the best diagnostic clues when distinguishing WSN from other conditions. The diagnosis of WSN in extraoral sites, such as the anogenital area, requires a differential diagnosis of inherited, acquired and/or infectious conditions (See table 2). Like WSN, psoriasis is an inherited skin disorder, but psoriasis is characterized by salmon-pink plaques covered by loose silvery-white scales. Unlike WSN, the scales of psoriasis are easily epilated, leaving miniscule blood droplets (Auspitz phenomena) and psoriasis has a widely variable course with multiple exacerbations and remissions13. Another recurrent genital rash, which is inherited as an autosomal dominant trait, is familial benign pemphigus (Hailey-Hailey disease)15. Onset is usually in adolescence and the disease is characterized by exacerbations and remissions that fluctuate with the seasons. The disease is worse in summer months and can be extremely pruritic. The lesions present as vesicles that rupture easily, leaving crusty erosions resembling white vegetative plaques, particularly in areas such as the axilla and groin15. Benign lesions which could be confused with WSN include lichen planus. Lichen planus is an inflammatory condition of the skin and mucous membranes of unknown etiology characterized by violaceous, shiny, pruritic, flat paules with white lines (Wickham’s striae)13. Anogenital lichen planus usually presents in adults and is extremely pruritic and sometimes painful16. Patient history, clinical presentation and histology differentiate anogenital lichen planus from WSN. Acquired conditions such as lichen sclerosis, and infectious conditions such as condylomata acuminata, condylomata lata, and candidia have patient history and clinical features that distinguish these conditions from WSN. Lichen sclerosis is a chronic atrophic, mucocutaneous disorder of unknown etiology that can occur in children, but the mean age of onset is between 40 and 50 years13. Females are most frequently affected, with characteristic lesions of pearly white, angular, indurated papules and plaques primarily in the vulvar and perianal area. Males may have lesions under the surface of the prepuce and glans penis13. Genital symptoms may vary from painful erosion to severe atrophy of anatomical structures, such as vulvar atrophy13,16. The terms “dystrophy” and “leukoplakia” in the vulvar area have been replaced with “vulvar atypia-intraepithelial neoplasia” 16. Vulvar atypia-intraepithelial neoplasias are staged from mild dysplasia (VIN I) to moderate dysplasia (VIN II) and to severe dysplasia (VIN III) depending on which level of the squamous epithelium is involved16. Carcinoma in situ involves the full thickness of the epithelium. The tissue in the vulvar area may appear white or reddish and patients may complain of pruritis. Vulvar atypias can be definitively diagnosed by biopsy and differentiated miscrospically from WSN by the size and variation of the nuclei16. Condylomata acuminata and condylomata lata are infectious conditions caused by human papilloma virus (HPV) and T. pallidum (a spirochete) respectively13,14. Condylomata acuminata usually present as small flesh colored papules, or groups of papules, that have a cauliflower-type appearance. Microscopic features of condylomata acuminata may have some similarities with WSN, but WSN can be differentiated by the lack of binucleation and nuclear hyperchromasia typical of condylomata acuminata7. Condylomata lata is characterized by large clusters of brownish-red or pink, moist papules and is easily diagnosed based on history, presentation and a serologic test for syphilis13,14. Mucous patches on the oral or genital mucoa may also characterize secondary syphilis. These lesions are flat macules and papules covered by a white-gray membrane14,16. Mucocutaneous candidiasis in the anogenital area is caused by candida albicans which shows branching peudohyphae and budding yeast on a KOH preparation which easily distinguishes this condition from WSN13. The lesions are usually bright red, confluent plaques with red satellite papules and a fine white collar13. Candida can occur at any age and may be associated with a thick, creamy white, curd-like discharge in the mouth and vaginal areas. The plaques of WSN are considered benign and no treatment is usually indicated because the lesions are generally asymptomatic6,11,17. In some individuals, where the lesions interfere with normal function and/or cause sufficient discomfort, treatment may be instituted. Treatment of oral WSN includes the use of topical 0.05% tretinoin and/or topical antibiotics, such as 0.25% tetracycline or penicillin, although results are variable5,8,11. In one documented case, surgical removal of a small discrete WSN from the labia minora was successful6. Comfort measures, such as mouth rinses, are helpful with associated symptoms of WSN in the oral cavity and anti-pruritic creams may be applied to anogenital lesions. Cotton underwear and loose fitting clothing help to decrease warmth and moisture in the genital area. Keeping the area clean and dry also decreases irritation that may contribute to pruritis and burning. Although WSN more frequently involves the oral cavity, and rarely affects extraoral sites, the diagnosis of WSN should be considered in cases where more typical genital lesions are not suspected. A detailed patient and family history will provide good diagnostic clues for the practitioner, especially if other treatments fail to improve the clinical condition. Referral for more definitive testing is generally an option and certainly proved to be helpful in the diagnosis of this case. The authors wish to thank Gloria Mendoza, The University of Texas-Houston School of Nursing, for typing this manuscript. Great appreciation is expressed to our patient, who graciously shared her history, and allowed us to photograph her lesion and to use the pictures for educational purposes. We also wish to acknowledge Dr. Adelaide Herbert, The University of Texas-Houston Health Science Center, Department of Dermatology, who diagnosed the lesion of WSN in this patient. Table 1. Causes of Oral Leukoplasia 2,8,12 Table 2. Causes of Genital Leukoplasia 9,13,14,,

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Plant of the month: July Leptospermum scoparium belongs to the Myrtaceae family of shrubs, and can be found on the Loudon Terrace. This gorgeous evergreen shrub with small aromatic leaves comes from New Zealand. It is commonly known as the Manuka or Tea Tree from which Manuka honey is produced. When the shrub is in full flower and it is smothered with small white rose like flowers – you can hear it buzzing with the honey bees! Manuka honey is famed for its potent anti-bacterial and anti-viral properties and as such, carries a hefty price tag. Whilst establishing itself, the shrub is best planted in a sheltered site, facing South or West, where the soil is moist. It can also be less hardy in its first few years so some winter protection is advisable, after its fifth year it should be hardy to minus 5° C. It flowers from June to July with maybe a second flush in the autumn. The shrub may reach 4m in height and needs no formal pruning.

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A Nice Irish Tea Bread It's after St. Patrick's Day, so I can safely post this recipe without the nasty emails from the Irish Soda Bread purists! REAL Irish soda bread has no sugar, and has caraway seeds.....I know, I know. I love it. It gets rock hard the next day and is great toasted with butter. I have been making my husband's godmother's recipe (Mrs. Dale, a good Irish woman) for years.......it's tried and true....and always round. Make one for me, and one to give away. I like my soda bread on the sweet side....more like a cake.....we know I love cake. I was attracted to this recipe on the King Arthur Flour website called an "American Irish Soda Bread".....made American by adding the sugar, I guess. I don't want to fight with any lasses this week, so am calling this a "tea bread"! That's what it is in my book....a nice moist loaf with raisins and currants, perfect for afternoon tea or anytime. I did not have sparkling sugar for the top, but I did have confetti sparkling sugar! So made it flashy! *Regarding buttermilk....you don't have to run out and buy a carton for this easy recipe.....just use this formula: 1 cup of milk to 1 tbsp of fresh lemon juice Let the curdled milk sit for 15 minutes on the counter (the recipe uses 1 3/4 cup of buttermilk, so I used 2 tbsp lemon juice) Irish Tea Loaf (adapted from King Arthur Flour website): 3 cups Pastry Flour Blend or King Arthur Unbleached All-Purpose Flour 1 tablespoon baking powder 1/4 teaspoon baking soda 3/4 teaspoon salt heaping 1/2 cup granulated sugar 1 cup currants or raisins (I mixed 1/2 c golden raisins + 1/2 c Zante currants) 1 tablespoon caraway seeds, (optional) 1 large egg 1 3/4 cups buttermilk* 4 tablespoons butter, melted 1 tablespoon milk 1 tablespoon coarse white sparkling sugar (use turbinado sugar if you don't have "sparkling" sugar) Preheat the oven to 375°F. Lightly grease a 9" x 5" loaf pan. In a large bowl, whisk together the pastry blend or flour, baking powder, baking soda, salt, sugar, currants, and caraway seeds. In a separate bowl, or in a measuring cup, whisk together the egg and buttermilk (or milk and lemon juice). Quickly and gently stir the wet ingredients into the dry ingredients. Stir in the melted butter. Spoon the batter into the prepared pan. Using a pastry brush, brush the milk or cream over the top and sprinkle with the coarse sugar. Bake the bread for 50 minutes to 1 hour, or until a cake tester inserted into the center comes out clean. Remove the bread from the oven, loosen its edges, and after 5 minutes turn it out onto a rack to cool. Cool completely before slicing. Wrap airtight and store at room temperature. When it gets stale (after a few days), just put the slices in a pan with a tablespoon of butter. Even better! This is a WONDERFUL LOAF!

How are we all getting on with the last minutes preparations for Christmas! I know I’m definitely not ready! If you are thinking of what dessert to make for Christmas that isn’t your usually fruit cake or Christmas pudding or even ginger bread men, you should totally try this brownie recipe. I’m often reluctant to share recipes because I’m skeptical someone would try it and think it’s not as nice as I claim it to be. However… I have come to accept that people are entitled to their opinions and so am I. On that note, in my opinion, this recipe makes very yummy brownies. They are not studgy, hard or cakey, so if you do not like very moist brownies then this recipe is not for you. These brownies simply melt in your mouth with every bite. This means that find yourself eating more and more and more! I assure you that your waistline won’t thank you, but it’s yummy and so worth it as a cheat snack or a quick dessert to make when you have guests coming over. I have made them so many times, particularly as part of a three course meal for friends who visit, and they have loved them. I also recently took a batch to a birthday party and of the three desserts I baked, these brownies were the first to run out with gushing positive compliments. I will stop going on about how great they are and just share the recipe! Take this as a Christmas present from me to you! This recipe is adapted from my take on trying various brownie recipes. Yummy melt in the mouth chocolate brownies - 3 eggs - 240 grams caster sugar - 180g dark chocolate - 180g butter - 100g plain flour - 100g white chocolate (or 50g white chocolate and 50g dark chocolate) - Preheat your oven to 160C for fan ovens, 180C otherwise. Also line your brownie tin. I used a 34 X 20cm tin. - Break your dark chocolate into small pieces and place in a microwaveable bowl with all of the butter. Cover the bowl with cling film and put it in the microwave for two minutes. Use a spatula or other suitable crockery to mix the chocolate with the melted butter, this should help the rest of the chocolate melt. Leave aside to cool. - Crack your eggs into a separate clean and dry bowl and pour in the caster sugar. Whisk the two together at high speed until it looks thick and the colour of the mixture is paler than you started. This is to incorporate a lot of air into your brownie mixture. This can take some time. If when you switch off your whisker, the drops of the sugar and egg mixture leaves a trail for a few seconds, you can stop whisking then. - Break your white chocolate into a small pieces in a separate bowl. By preference, I use only white chocolate because I like the colour contrast between the dark chocolate for the brownies and the white chocolate inside the brownies. You could choose to use half milk chocolate and half white chocolate if you wish. - Carefully pour your melted butter and dark chocolate mixture from step 2 above into the egg sugar mixture and mix it gently, being careful not to knock out all the air you incorpirated in step 3. After incorporating the two mixtures, the colours should be like a dull milk chocolate shade. - Incorporate the sifted flour into the mixture, being careful not to knock out too much air. - Incorporate the broken pieces of white chocolate (or half and half milk and white chocolate). - Carefully pour your mixture into a brownie tin and bake in the middle shelf for 25 minutes. - Once ready, the top of the brownie should be shinny with some cracks. Leave it to cool completely before cutting. Enjoy your brownie by itself, or warm with some good quality vanilla icecream. Please let me know how you get on, whether or not you agree with me that they are yummy!

Excerpt: 'Tender Buttons' by Gertrude Stein Cheese with Three Crackers, Raphaelle Peale, 1774 – 1825 ROAST BEEF; MUTTON; BREAKFAST; SUGAR; CRANBERRIES; MILK; EGGS; APPLE; TAILS; LUNCH; CUPS; RHUBARB; SINGLE; FISH; CAKE; CUSTARD; POTATOES; ASPARAGUS; BUTTER; END OF SUMMER; SAUSAGES; CELERY; VEAL; VEGETABLE; COOKING; CHICKEN; PASTRY; CREAM; CUCUMBER; DINNER; DINING; EATING; SALAD; SAUCE; SALMON; ORANGE; COCOA; AND CLEAR SOUP AND ORANGES AND OATMEAL; SALAD DRESSING AND AN ARTICHOKE; A CENTRE IN A TABLE. In the inside there is sleeping, in the outside there is reddening, in the morning there is meaning, in the evening there is feeling. In the evening there is feeling. In feeling anything is resting, in feeling anything is mounting, in feeling there is resignation, in feeling there is recognition, in feeling there is recurrence and entirely mistaken there is pinching. All the standards have steamers and all the curtains have bed linen and all the yellow has discrimination and all the circle has circling. This makes sand. Very well. Certainly the length is thinner and the rest, the round rest has a longer summer. To shine, why not shine, to shine, to station, to enlarge, to hurry the measure all this means nothing if there is singing, if there is singing then there is the resumption. The change the dirt, not to change dirt means that there is no beefsteak and not to have that is no obstruction, it is so easy to exchange meaning, it is so easy to see the difference. The difference is that a plain resource is not entangled with thickness and it does not mean that thickness shows such cutting, it does mean that a meadow is useful and a cow absurd. It does not mean that there are tears, it does not mean that exudation is cumbersome, it means no more than a memory, a choice and a reëstablishment, it means more than any escape from a surrounding extra. All the time that there is use there is use and any time there is a surface there is a surface, and every time there is an exception there is an exception and every time there is a division there is a dividing. Any time there is a surface there is a surface and every time there is a suggestion there is a suggestion and every time there is silence there is silence and every time that is languid there is that there then and not oftener, not always, not particular, tender and changing and external and central and surrounded and singular and simple and the same and the surface and the circle and the shine and the succor and the white and the same and the better and the red and the same and the centre and the yellow and the tender and the better, and altogether. Considering the circumstances there is no occasion for a reduction, considering that there is no pealing there is no occasion for an obligation, considering that there is no outrage there is no necessity for any reparation, considering that there is no particle sodden there is no occasion for deliberation. Considering everything and which way the turn is tending, considering everything why is there no restraint, considering everything what makes the place settle and the plate distinguish some specialties. The whole thing is not understood and this is not strange considering that there is no education, this is not strange because having that certainly does show the difference in cutting, it shows that when there is turning there is no distress. In kind, in a control, in a period, in the alteration of pigeons, in kind cuts and thick and thin spaces, in kind ham and different colors, the length of leaning a strong thing outside not to make a sound but to suggest a crust, the principal taste is when there is a whole chance to be reasonable, this does not mean that there is overtaking, this means nothing precious, this means clearly that the chance to exercise is a social success. So then the sound is not obtrusive. Suppose it is obtrusive suppose it is. What is certainly the desertion is not a reduced description, a description is not a birthday. Lovely snipe and tender turn, excellent vapor and slender butter, all the splinter and the trunk, all the poisonous darkening drunk, all the joy in weak success, all the joyful tenderness, all the section and the tea, all the stouter symmetry. Around the size that is small, inside the stern that is the middle, besides the remains that are praying, inside the between that is turning, all the region is measuring and melting is exaggerating. Rectangular ribbon does not mean that there is no eruption it means that if there is no place to hold there is no place to spread. Kindness is not earnest, it is not assiduous it is not revered. Room to comb chickens and feathers and ripe purple, room to curve single plates and large sets and second silver, room to send everything away, room to save heat and distemper, room to search a light that is simpler, all room has no shadow. There is no use there is no use at all in smell, in taste, in teeth, in toast, in anything, there is no use at all and the respect is mutual. Why should that which is uneven, that which is resumed, that which is tolerable why should all this resemble a smell, a thing is there, it whistles, it is not narrower, why is there no obligation to stay away and yet courage, courage is everywhere and the best remains to stay. If there could be that which is contained in that which is felt there would be a chair where there are chairs and there would be no more denial about a clatter. A clatter is not a smell. All this is good. The Saturday evening which is Sunday is every week day. What choice is there when there is a difference. A regulation is not active. Thirstiness is not equal division. Anyway, to be older and ageder is not a surfeit nor a suction, it is not dated and careful, it is not dirty. Any little thing is clean, rubbing is black. Why should ancient lambs be goats and young colts and never beef, why should they, they should because there is so much difference in age. A sound, a whole sound is not separation, a whole sound is in an order. Suppose there is a pigeon, suppose there is. Looseness, why is there a shadow in a kitchen, there is a shadow in a kitchen because every little thing is bigger. The time when there are four choices and there are four choices in a difference, the time when there are four choices there is a kind and there is a kind. There is a kind. There is a kind. Supposing there is a bone, there is a bone. Supposing there are bones. There are bones. When there are bones there is no supposing there are bones. There are bones and there is that consuming. The kindly way to feel separating is to have a space between. This shows a likeness. Hope in gates, hope in spoons, hope in doors, hope in tables, no hope in daintiness and determination. Hope in dates. Tin is not a can and a stove is hardly. Tin is not necessary and neither is a stretcher. Tin is never narrow and thick. Color is in coal. Coal is outlasting roasting and a spoonful, a whole spoon that is full is not spilling. Coal any coal is copper. Claiming nothing, not claiming anything, not a claim in everything, collecting claiming, all this makes a harmony, it even makes a succession. Sincerely gracious one morning, sincerely graciously trembling, sincere in gracious eloping, all this makes a furnace and a blanket. All this shows quantity. Like an eye, not so much more, not any searching, no compliments. Please be the beef, please beef, pleasure is not wailing. Please beef, please be carved clear, please be a case of consideration. Search a neglect. A sale, any greatness is a stall and there is no memory, there is no clear collection. A satin sight, what is a trick, no trick is mountainous and the color, all the rush is in the blood. Bargaining for a little, bargain for a touch, a liberty, an estrangement, a characteristic turkey. Please spice, please no name, place a whole weight, sink into a standard rising, raise a circle, choose a right around, make the resonance accounted and gather green any collar. To bury a slender chicken, to raise an old feather, to surround a garland and to bake a pole splinter, to suggest a repose and to settle simply, to surrender one another, to succeed saving simpler, to satisfy a singularity and not to be blinder, to sugar nothing darker and to read redder, to have the color better, to sort out dinner, to remain together, to surprise no sinner, to curve nothing sweeter, to continue thinner, to increase in resting recreation to design string not dimmer. Cloudiness what is cloudiness, is it a lining, is it a roll, is it melting. The sooner there is jerking, the sooner freshness is tender, the sooner the round it is not round the sooner it is withdrawn in cutting, the sooner the measure means service, the sooner there is chinking, the sooner there is sadder than salad, the sooner there is none do her, the sooner there is no choice, the sooner there is a gloom freer, the same sooner and more sooner, this is no error in hurry and in pressure and in opposition to consideration. A recital, what is a recital, it is an organ and use does not strengthen valor, it soothes medicine. A transfer, a large transfer, a little transfer, some transfer, clouds and tracks do transfer, a transfer is not neglected. Pride, when is there perfect pretence, there is no more than yesterday and ordinary. A sentence of a vagueness that is violence is authority and a mission and stumbling and also certainly also a prison. Calmness, calm is beside the plate and in way in. There is no turn in terror. There is no volume in sound. There is coagulation in cold and there is none in prudence. Something is preserved and the evening is long and the colder spring has sudden shadows in a sun. All the stain is tender and lilacs really lilacs are disturbed. Why is the perfect reëstablishment practiced and prized, why is it composed. The result the pure result is juice and size and baking and exhibition and nonchalance and sacrifice and volume and a section in division and the surrounding recognition and horticulture and no murmur. This is a result. There is no superposition and circumstance, there is hardness and a reason and the rest and remainder. There is no delight and no mathematics. A letter which can wither, a learning which can suffer and an outrage which is simultaneous is principal. Student, students are merciful and recognised they chew something. Hate rests that is solid and sparse and all in a shape and largely very largely. Interleaved and successive and a sample of smell all this makes a certainty a shade. Light curls very light curls have no more curliness than soup. This is not a subject. Change a single stream of denting and change it hurriedly, what does it express, it expresses nausea. Like a very strange likeness and pink, like that and not more like that than the same resemblance and not more like that than no middle space in cutting. An eye glass, what is an eye glass, it is water. A splendid specimen, what is it when it is little and tender so that there are parts. A centre can place and four are no more and two and two are not middle. Melting and not minding, safety and powder, a particular recollection and a sincere solitude all this makes a shunning so thorough and so unrepeated and surely if there is anything left it is a bone. It is not solitary. Any space is not quiet it is so likely to be shiny. Darkness very dark darkness is sectional. There is a way to see in onion and surely very surely rhubarb and a tomato, surely very surely there is that seeding. A little thing in is a little thing. Mud and water were not present and not any more of either. Silk and stockings were not present and not any more of either. A receptacle and a symbol and no monster were present and no more. This made a piece show and was it a kindness, it can be asked was it a kindness to have it warmer, was it a kindness and does gliding mean more. Does it. Does it dirty a ceiling. It does not. Is it dainty, it is if prices are sweet. Is it lamentable, it is not if there is no undertaker. Is it curious, it is not when there is youth. All this makes a line, it even makes makes no more. All this makes cherries. The reason that there is a suggestion in vanity is due to this that there is a burst of mixed music. A temptation any temptation is an exclamation if there are misdeeds and little bones. It is not astonishing that bones mingle as they vary not at all and in any case why is a bone outstanding, it is so because the circumstance that does not make a cake and character is so easily churned and cherished. Mouse and mountain and a quiver, a quaint statue and pain in an exterior and silence more silence louder shows salmon a mischief intender. A cake, a real salve made of mutton and liquor, a specially retained rinsing and an established cork and blazing, this which resignation influences and restrains, restrains more altogether. A sign is the specimen spoken. A meal in mutton, mutton, why is lamb cheaper, it is cheaper because so little is more. Lecture, lecture and repeat instruction. A change, a final change includes potatoes. This is no authority for the abuse of cheese. What language can instruct any fellow. A shining breakfast, a breakfast shining, no dispute, no practice, nothing, nothing at all. A sudden slice changes the whole plate, it does so suddenly. An imitation, more imitation, imitation succeed imitations. Anything that is decent, anything that is present, a calm and a cook and more singularly still a shelter, all these show the need of clamor. What is the custom, the custom is in the centre. What is a loving tongue and pepper and more fish than there is when tears many tears are necessary. The tongue and the salmon, there is not salmon when brown is a color, there is salmon when there is no meaning to an early morning being pleasanter. There is no salmon, there are no tea-cups, there are the same kind of mushes as are used as stomachers by the eating hopes that makes eggs delicious. Drink is likely to stir a certain respect for an egg cup and more water melon than was ever eaten yesterday. Beer is neglected and cocoanut is famous. Coffee all coffee and a sample of soup all soup these are the choice of a baker. A white cup means a wedding. A wet cup means a vacation. A strong cup means an especial regulation. A single cup means a capital arrangement between the drawer and the place that is open. Price a price is not in language, it is not in custom, it is not in praise. A colored loss, why is there no leisure. If the persecution is so outrageous that nothing is solemn is there any occasion for persuasion. A grey turn to a top and bottom, a silent pocketful of much heating, all the pliable succession of surrendering makes an ingenious joy. A breeze in a jar and even then silence, a special anticipation in a rack, a gurgle a whole gurgle and more cheese than almost anything, is this an astonishment, does this incline more than the original division between a tray and a talking arrangement and even then a calling into another room gently with some chicken in any way. A bent way that is a way to declare that the best is all together, a bent way shows no result, it shows a slight restraint, it shows a necessity for retraction. Suspect a single buttered flower, suspect it certainly, suspect it and then glide, does that not alter a counting. A hurt mended stick, a hurt mended cup, a hurt mended article of exceptional relaxation and annoyance, a hurt mended, hurt and mended is so necessary that no mistake is intended. What is more likely than a roast, nothing really and yet it is never disappointed singularly. A steady cake, any steady cake is perfect and not plain, any steady cake has a mounting reason and more than that it has singular crusts. A season of more is a season that is instead. A season of many is not more a season than most. Take no remedy lightly, take no urging intently, take no separation leniently, beware of no lake and no larder. Burden the cracked wet soaking sack heavily, burden it so that it is an institution in fright and in climate and in the best plan that there can be. An ordinary color, a color is that strange mixture which makes, which does make which does not make a ripe juice, which does not make a mat. A work which is a winding a real winding of the cloaking of a relaxing rescue. This which is so cool is not dusting, it is not dirtying in smelling, it could use white water, it could use more extraordinarily and in no solitude altogether. This which is so not winsome and not widened and really not so dipped as dainty and really dainty, very dainty, ordinarily, dainty, a dainty, not in that dainty and dainty. If the time is determined, if it is determined and there is reunion there is reunion with that then outline, then there is in that a piercing shutter, all of a piercing shouter, all of a quite weather, all of a withered exterior, all of that in most violent likely. An excuse is not dreariness, a single plate is not butter, a single weight is not excitement, a solitary crumbling is not only martial. A mixed protection, very mixed with the same actual intentional unstrangeness and riding, a single action caused necessarily is not more a sign than a minister. Seat a knife near a cage and very near a decision and more nearly a timely working cat and scissors. Do this temporarily and make no more mistake in standing. Spread it all and arrange the white place, does this show in the house, does it not show in the green that is not necessary for that color, does it not even show in the explanation and singularly not at all stationary. A violent luck and a whole sample and even then quiet. Water is squeezing, water is almost squeezing on lard. Water, water is a mountain and it is selected and it is so practical that there is no use in money. A mind under is exact and so it is necessary to have a mouth and eye glasses. A question of sudden rises and more time than awfulness is so easy and shady. There is precisely that noise. A peck a small piece not privately overseen, not at all not a slice, not at all crestfallen and open, not at all mounting and chaining and evenly surpassing, all the bidding comes to tea. A separation is not tightly in worsted and sauce, it is so kept well and sectionally. Put it in the stew, put it to shame. A little slight shadow and a solid fine furnace. The teasing is tender and trying and thoughtful. The line which sets sprinkling to be a remedy is beside the best cold. A puzzle, a monster puzzle, a heavy choking, a neglected Tuesday. Wet crossing and a likeness, any likeness, a likeness has blisters, it has that and teeth, it has the staggering blindly and a little green, any little green is ordinary. One, two and one, two, nine, second and five and that. A blaze, a search in between, a cow, only any wet place, only this tune. Cut a gas jet uglier and then pierce pierce in between the next and negligence. Choose the rate to pay and pet pet very much. A collection of all around, a signal poison, a lack of languor and more hurts at ease. A white bird, a colored mine, a mixed orange, a dog. Cuddling comes in continuing a change. A piece of separate outstanding rushing is so blind with open delicacy. A canoe is orderly. A period is solemn. A cow is accepted. A nice old chain is widening, it is absent, it is laid by. Could there not be a sudden date, could there not be in the present settlement of old age pensions, could there not be by a witness, could there be. Count the chain, cut the grass, silence the noon and murder flies. See the basting undip the chart, see the way the kinds are best seen from the rest, from that and untidy. Cut the whole space into twenty-four spaces and then and then is there a yellow color, there is but it is smelled, it is then put where it is and nothing stolen. A remarkable degree of red means that, a remarkable exchange is made. Climbing altogether in when there is a solid chance of soiling no more than a dirty thing, coloring all of it in steadying is jelly. Just as it is suffering, just as it is succeeded, just as it is moist so is there no countering. A white egg and a colored pan and a cabbage showing settlement, a constant increase. A cold in a nose, a single cold nose makes an excuse. Two are more necessary. All the goods are stolen, all the blisters are in the cup. Cooking, cooking is the recognition between sudden and nearly sudden very little and all large holes. A real pint, one that is open and closed and in the middle is so bad. Tender colds, seen eye holders, all work, the best of change, the meaning, the dark red, all this and bitten, really bitten. Guessing again and golfing again and the best men, the very best men. Climb up in sight climb in the whole utter needles and a guess a whole guess is hanging. Hanging hanging. Kind height, kind in the right stomach with a little sudden mill. Cunning shawl, cunning shawl to be steady. In white in white handkerchiefs with little dots in a white belt all shadows are singular they are singular and procured and relieved. No that is not the cows shame and a precocious sound, it is a bite. Cut up alone the paved way which is harm. Harm is old boat and a likely dash. Apple plum, carpet steak, seed clam, colored wine, calm seen, cold cream, best shake, potato, potato and no no gold work with pet, a green seen is called bake and change sweet is bready, a little piece a little piece please. A little piece please. Cane again to the presupposed and ready eucalyptus tree, count out sherry and ripe plates and little corners of a kind of ham. This is use. Cold pails, cold with joy no joy. A tiny seat that means meadows and a lapse of cuddles with cheese and nearly bats, all this went messed. The post placed a loud loose sprain. A rest is no better. It is better yet. All the time. Luck in loose plaster makes holy gauge and nearly that, nearly more states, more states come in town light kite, blight not white. A little lunch is a break in skate a little lunch so slimy, a west end of a board line is that which shows a little beneath so that necessity is a silk under wear. That is best wet. It is so natural, and why is there flake, there is flake to explain exhaust. A real cold hen is nervous is nervous with a towel with a spool with real beads. It is mostly an extra sole nearly all that shaved, shaved with an old mountain, more than that bees more than that dinner and a bunch of likes that is to say the hearts of onions aim less. Cold coffee with a corn a corn yellow and green mass is a gem. A single example of excellence is in the meat. A bent stick is surging and might all might is mental. A grand clothes is searching out a candle not that wheatly not that by more than an owl and a path. A ham is proud of cocoanut. A cup is neglected by being all in size. It is a handle and meadows and sugar any sugar. A cup is neglected by being full of size. It shows no shade, in come little wood cuts and blessing and nearly not that not with a wild bought in, not at all so polite, not nearly so behind. Cups crane in. They need a pet oyster, they need it so hoary and nearly choice. The best slam is utter. Nearly be freeze. Why is a cup a stir and a behave. Why is it so seen. A cup is readily shaded, it has in between no sense that is to say music, memory, musical memory. Peanuts blame, a half sand is holey and nearly. Rhubarb is susan not susan not seat in bunch toys not wild and laughable not in little places not in neglect and vegetable not in fold coal age not please. Single fish single fish single fish egg-plant single fish sight. A sweet win and not less noisy than saddle and more ploughing and nearly well painted by little things so. Please shade it a play. It is necessary and beside the large sort is puff. Every way oakly, please prune it near. It is so found. It is not the same. Cake cast in went to be and needles wine needles are such. This is today. A can experiment is that which makes a town, makes a town dirty, it is little please. We came back. Two bore, bore what, a mussed ash, ash when there is tin. This meant cake. It was a sign. Another time there was extra a hat pin sought long and this dark made a display. The result was yellow. A caution, not a caution to be. It is no use to cause a foolish number. A blanket stretch a cloud, a shame, all that bakery can tease, all that is beginning and yesterday yesterday we had it met. It means some change. No some day. A little leaf upon a scene an ocean any where there, a bland and likely in the stream a recollection green land. Why white. Custard is this. It has aches, aches when. Not to be. Not to be narrowly. This makes a whole little hill. It is better than a little thing that has mellow real mellow. It is better than lakes whole lakes, it is better than seeding. Real potatoes cut in between. In the preparation of cheese, in the preparation of crackers, in the preparation of butter, in it. Roast potatoes for. Asparagus in a lean in a lean to hot. This makes it art and it is wet wet weather wet weather wet. Boom in boom in, butter. Leave a grain and show it, show it. I spy. It is a need it is a need that a flower a state flower. It is a need that a state rubber. It is a need that a state rubber is sweet and sight and a swelled stretch. It is a need. It is a need that state rubber. Wood a supply. Clean little keep a strange, estrange on it. Make a little white, no and not with pit, pit on in within. END OF SUMMER. Little eyelets that have hammer and a check with stripes between a lounge, in wit, in a rested development. Sausages in between a glass. There is read butter. A loaf of it is managed. Wake a question. Eat an instant, answer. A reason for bed is this, that a decline, any decline is poison, poison is a toe a toe extractor, this means a solemn change. Hanging. No evil is wide, any extra in leaf is so strange and singular a red breast. Celery tastes tastes where in curled lashes and little bits and mostly in remains. A green acre is so selfish and so pure and so enlivened. Very well very well, washing is old, washing is washing. Cold soup, cold soup clear and particular and a principal a principal question to put into. What is cut. What is cut by it. What is cut by it in. It was a cress a crescent a cross and an unequal scream, it was upslanting, it was radiant and reasonable with little ins and red. News. News capable of glees, cut in shoes, belike under pump of wide chalk, all this combing. WAY LAY VEGETABLE. Leaves in grass and mow potatoes, have a skip, hurry you up flutter. Suppose it is ex a cake suppose it is new mercy and leave charlotte and nervous bed rows. Suppose it is meal. Suppose it is sam. Alas, alas the pull alas the bell alas the coach in china, alas the little put in leaf alas the wedding butter meat, alas the receptacle, alas the back shape of mussle, mussle and soda. Pheasant and chicken, chicken is a peculiar third. Alas a dirty word, alas a dirty third alas a dirty third, alas a dirty bird. Alas a doubt in case of more go to say what it is cress. What is it. Mean. Potato. Loaves. Stick stick call then, stick stick sticking, sticking with a chicken. Sticking in a extra succession, sticking in. Chain-boats are merry, are merry blew, blew west, carpet. Cutting shade, cool spades and little last beds, make violet, violet when. In a plank, in a play sole, in a heated red left tree there is shut in specs with salt be where. This makes an eddy. Necessary. Cream cut. Any where crumb. Left hop chambers. Not a razor less, not a razor, ridiculous pudding, red and relet put in, rest in a slender go in selecting, rest in, rest in in white widening. Not a little fit, not a little fit sun sat in shed more mentally. Let us why, let us why weight, let us why winter chess, let us why way. Only a moon to soup her, only that in the sell never never be the cocups nice be, shatter it they lay. Egg ear nuts, look a bout. Shoulder. Let it strange, sold in bell next herds. It was a time when in the acres in late there was a wheel that shot a burst of land and needless are niggers and a sample sample set of old eaten butterflies with spoons, all of it to be are fled and measure make it, make it, yet all the one in that we see where shall not it set with a left and more so, yes there add when the longer not it shall the best in the way when all be with when shall not for there with see and chest how for another excellent and excellent and easy easy excellent and easy express e c, all to be nice all to be no so. All to be no so no so. All to be not a white old chat churner. Not to be any example of an edible apple in. Dining is west. Eat ting, eating a grand old man said roof and never never re soluble burst, not a near ring not a bewildered neck, not really any such bay. Is it so a noise to be is it a least remain to rest, is it a so old say to be, is it a leading are been. Is it so, is it so, is it so, is it so is it so is it so. Eel us eel us with no no pea no pea cool, no pea cool cooler, no pea cooler with a land a land cost in, with a land cost in stretches. Eating he heat eating he heat it eating, he heat it heat eating. He heat eating. A little piece of pay of pay owls owls such as pie, bolsters. Will leap beat, willie well all. The rest rest oxen occasion occasion to be so purred, so purred how. It was a ham it was a square come well it was a square remain, a square remain not it a bundle, not it a bundle so is a grip, a grip to shed bay leave bay leave draught, bay leave draw cider in low, cider in low and george. George is a mass. It was a shame it was a shame to stare to stare and double and relieve relieve be cut up show as by the elevation of it and out out more in the steady where the come and on and the all the shed and that. It was a garden and belows belows straight. It was a pea, a pea pour it in its not a succession, not it a simple, not it a so election, election with. It is a winning cake. What is bay labored what is all be section, what is no much. Sauce sam in. It was a peculiar bin a bin fond in beside. Why is a feel oyster an egg stir. Why is it orange centre. A show at tick and loosen loosen it so to speak sat. It was an extra leaker with a see spoon, it was an extra licker with a see spoon. A type oh oh new new not no not knealer knealer of old show beefsteak, neither neither. Build is all right. Go lack go lack use to her. Cocoa and clear soup and oranges and oat-meal. Whist bottom whist close, whist clothes, woodling. Cocoa and clear soup and oranges and oat-meal. Pain soup, suppose it is question, suppose it is butter, real is, real is only, only excreate, only excreate a no since. A no, a no since, a no since when, a no since when since, a no since when since a no since when since, a no since, a no since when since, a no since, a no, a no since a no since, a no since, a no since. SALAD DRESSING AND AN ARTICHOKE. Please pale hot, please cover rose, please acre in the red stranger, please butter all the beef-steak with regular feel faces. SALAD DRESSING AND AN ARTICHOKE. It was please it was please carriage cup in an ice-cream, in an ice-cream it was too bended bended with scissors and all this time. A whole is inside a part, a part does go away, a hole is red leaf. No choice was where there was and a second and a second. A CENTRE IN A TABLE. It was a way a day, this made some sum. Suppose a cod liver a cod liver is an oil, suppose a cod liver oil is tunny, suppose a cod liver oil tunny is pressed suppose a cod liver oil tunny pressed is china and secret with a bestow a bestow reed, a reed to be a reed to be, in a reed to be. Next to me next to a folder, next to a folder some waiter, next to a foldersome waiter and re letter and read her. Read her with her for less. Excerpted from Tender Buttons by Gertrude Stein. First published in 1914.