text
stringlengths 65
6.05M
| lang
stringclasses 8
values | type
stringclasses 2
values | id
stringlengths 64
64
|
|---|---|---|---|
GRANIQUE (en grec Granikos). Petit fleuve côtier de Phrygie, en Asie Mineure, près de la ville turque de Biga, se jetant dans la Propontide. Victoire du roi de Macédoine Alexandre III le Grand sur le roi de Perse Darius III Codoman en mai 334 av. J.-C. Cratère commandait, à titre de taxiarque, un régiment de fantassins macédoniens. Cette victoire assura à Alexandre la domination des Détroits. Au cours de la bataille, Alexandre eut la vie sauvée par son frère de lait Clitos le Noir. Le général macédonien Parménion contribua à la victoire.
Iconographie : Le Passage du Granique, tableau de Charles Lebrun faisant partie d'une série de cinq vastes tableaux intitulée "Les batailles d'Alexandre" (musée du Louvre, Paris).
|
French
|
NL
|
b940879557187dd714061f2d0e5a70094bf61594f373a6ea1575f958eeca0db0
|
Xperium
Service d'une structure
Vitrine de la recherche partenariale réalisée dans les laboratoires de luniversité, Xperium est le lieu pour découvrir la recherche et linnovation. Sur un thème central unique et interdisciplinaire, 8 expériences scientifiques, interactives, étonnantes et ludiques sont présentées.Elles ont pour objectif dexpliquer les principes fondamentaux de la recherche actuelle, den montrer les résultats et les applications possibles.
Tutelle :
|
French
|
NL
|
7819f3e7185a36fc43179d372c6245c34fbcb8c75d68d3d009098f1fce1ebf74
|
Des points douloureux sur le visage et le corps avec des démangeaisons ? Vous souffrez de névrodermite ? Afin de contrer l'inflammation et de prévenir les rechutes, les patients atteints de névrodermite, en particulier, doivent accorder une attention particulière aux soins de la peau. Notre série SENSITIVE SKIN est parfaitement adaptée comme thérapie d'accompagnement pour la neurodermite.
De plus en plus de femmes et d'hommes souffrent de neurodermite (peau atopique). La neurodermite se caractérise par une éruption cutanée très démangeante, qui commence souvent dès l'enfance. La fonction protectrice de la peau est si faible que le contact avec des germes et des irritants peut facilement entraîner une inflammation. La peau atopique doit donc être soignée de manière très sensible. C'est exactement la raison pour laquelle nous avons révisé notre série à succès SENSITIVE SKIN, en y intégrant les dernières découvertes scientifiques sur le soin et la stabilisation des peaux sensibles et atopiques. Les produits de la série constituent le soin de base idéal pour la neurodermite.
Thérapie d'accompagnement pour la neurodermite
La base de la neurodermite est le soin minutieux de la peau. L'objectif premier est de réduire la sécheresse de la peau, qui provoque des inflammations, des démangeaisons et des brûlures. Un soin qui minimise les substances messagères des inflammations et restaure la barrière cutanée endommagée peut apporter une aide rapide et efficace. Une peau bien hydratée est moins irritante et présente une résistance accrue. En plus de la mousse nettoyante douce Soft Cleansing Mousse et du Soft Soothing Tonic, notre nouveau Neuro Skin Balm est particulièrement adapté à la peau atteinte de neurodermite sur le visage et le corps.
Comment Neuro Skin Balm aide à lutter contre la névrodermite
Le nouveau baume pour la peau Neuro est un soin spécial, peu irritant, pour les peaux sujettes à la neurodermite. Cette lotion facile à étaler contient des ingrédients actifs qui régénèrent la fonction barrière perturbée de la peau, réduisent les processus inflammatoires et assurent une sensation agréable sur la peau. À long terme, la phase de rémission (phase sans symptômes) de la neurodermite est prolongée et le bien-être est accru. Le résultat : des sentiments désagréables de tension et de démangeaison sont atténués. La peau est apaisée et équilibrée.
Des ingrédients actifs efficaces: Extrait végétal de racine de serpent japonais & Skin Defense Complex+
L'extrait végétal de la racine de serpent japonais a été développé spécialement pour la peau névrodermite. En combinaison avec le Skin Defense Complex+ efficace et de précieuses huiles végétales, la fonction barrière perturbée de la peau est régénérée et stabilisée à long terme.
De plus, l'acide hyaluronique et les isomères de saccharides apportent une hydratation supplémentaire pour compenser le déficit en eau de la peau.
Testé dermatologiquement
Tous les produits de notre série SENSITIVE SKIN ont été testés par Derma consult pour leur compatibilité avec d'excellents résultats. C'est pourquoi le baume Neuro Skin Balm est également idéal pour le soin de la peau des enfants atteints de névrodermite et procure un soulagement à long terme lorsqu'il est utilisé régulièrement pendant les périodes sans symptômes. Pour le Baume Neuro Peau, un test d'efficacité supplémentaire a été effectué, qui confirme clairement l'excellent effet.
|
French
|
NL
|
0152ac166a344bba519dda5435778c6a4e9ad3daa5c90c9af692fcefcc7ee093
|
Le thème est choisi à l'avance par le groupe ou la structure organisatrice.
Au fil des envies : Amour et Liberté, Les âges de la vie, Intuition et Efficacité, Communication Créative…
En fonction des thèmes et des participants nous expérimentons différents outils. L’intention est :
*Pratiquer des activités corporelles et mouvements spécifiques
*S’initier aux lois systémiques
*Disposer de protocoles simples à mettre en œuvre pour soi, ses proches…
Ceux qui connaissent la kinésiologie, les mouvements de Brain Gym®, les Constellations, découvrent d’autres applications, de nouveaux protocoles, des profondeurs inexplorées.
|
French
|
NL
|
12da0234899de3204dc9b91d4ab31385e4ffd32912494b9c22f8821da494597e
|
Premier ChapitreChapitre 1
Ne baisse jamais les yeux, sauf pour admirer tes chaussures.
Roxane –
Éblouie par les premiers rayons du soleil qui entraient à flots par les grandes baies vitrées, Roxane gémit et enfouit la tête sous son oreiller. La manœuvre eut pour effet immédiat de lui rappeler combien elle avait abusé de ce merveilleux vin californien, la veille au soir. La faute à ce charmant serveur qui n’avait eu de cesse de la resservir, alors qu’elle s’était promis de faire honneur aux mariés et de se tenir convenablement pour ce qui avait, en toute honnêteté, été une cérémonie de rêve. Non pas que le mariage soit un état auquel elle aspirait : la seule notion d’engagement la laissait perplexe. Elle avait déjà bien du mal à être fidèle à elle-même, alors à un homme…Mais si elle s’autorisait à attribuer une note à toutes les unions auxquelles elle avait assisté, celle de la veille l’emportait haut la main ! Et pas seulement pour son côté fastueux et si…californien. Jamais elle n’avait vu tant d’amour dans le regard de deux personnes. Et l’évidence qui existait entre ces deux-là lui faisait presque envie. Mais cela, elle ne l’avouerait jamais ! Pas même à Jenna, sa meilleure amie et jeune mariée, qui persistait à lui faire entrevoir la vie de couple comme un achèvement personnel.
Elle appréciait le fait que Jen ait toujours à cœur son bonheur, mais son insistance confinait parfois à l’intrusion. Et le sourire équivoque dont bridezilla l’avait gratifiée en lui indiquant le plan de table n’avait pas démenti ses pires craintes : elle avait passé la soirée en compagnie de Gary, témoin de Liam, le marié, et bassiste génial d’un groupe légendaire. Elle ne l’avouerait pas non plus, mais ça avait été plutôt agréable. Elle avait beaucoup ri, dansé et même…chanté !
— Mon Dieu, faites que tout le monde ait oublié ce passage-là, marmonna-t-elle pour elle-même, les yeux toujours clos.
Avec un peu de chance, le reste des invités se trouvait dans un état semblable au sien et aurait occulté une grande partie de la fête. Elle-même n’en gardait que des bribes : Jenna qui riait à gorge déployée, Liam qui la soulevait dans les airs, Ben se trémoussant avec Lili, et Gary qui…oh non ! Gary qui l’embrassait ! Ou alors était-ce elle ?
— Merde ! lâcha-t-elle plus fort en ouvrant les yeux au prix d’un effort démesuré.
C’est alors qu’elle l’entendit. Un soupir dans son dos. Qui pouvait bien être entré dans sa chambre ? Dans un accès de pure panique, elle se redressa en s’appuyant sur les coudes, sitôt freinée dans son élan par la douleur lancinante qui lui vrillait le crâne. Elle s’accorda quelques secondes pour calmer les battements erratiques de son cœur, puis tourna la tête vers l’autre côté du lit. Un dos, sans nul doute masculin, émergeait d’un enchevêtrement de draps froissés qui peinait à dissimuler ce qui, en temps normal, l’aurait probablement intéressée. Cette musculature évidente et pourtant discrète, cette nuque dégagée et tatouée, aurait d’ordinaire été un pur appel à un réveil torride. Mais dans ce cas-ci, il lui suffit d’un dixième de secondes pour mesurer les effets désastreux de sa méconduite. Le grand cru américain aidant, elle avait une fois de plus dépassé les bornes. Comment avait-elle pu être si stupide, bon sang ? Il y avait probablement des milliers, ou plutôt, des centaines de milliers d’hommes à Los Angeles, jeunes, beaux, libres et…inconnus.
Car il ne lui avait fallu qu’un quart de seconde pour reconnaître cette phrase latine qui naissait à la base de la masse brune pour aller se perdre entre ces omoplates puissantes ; elle l’avait assez observée ces jours-ci, alors que les derniers préparatifs allaient bon train et que toute la bande se retrouvait en fin de journée sur la plage en contrebas de la maison des mariés.
Fluctuat Nec Mergitur
Il est battu par les flots, mais ne sombre pas.
Pour sa part, elle avait sombré ; ça ne faisait aucun doute.
— Merde, merde, merde, chuchota-t-elle encore, s’exhortant à garder son calme pour reprendre le contrôle de la situation.
Elle scanna la chambre du regard. Semblable à la sienne, certes, mais il fallait se rendre à l’évidence : celle-ci était occupée par le musicien atrocement séduisant qui dormait à ses côtés. Sa basse reposait dans un coin, à côté d’une guitare sèche dont elle ne l’avait jamais vu jouer et, sur la chaise près du bureau, elle reconnut le blouson de cuir qu’il avait dû négligemment abandonner là en investissant les lieux.
— Oh c’est pas vrai, gémit-elle, mortifiée.
Là, sur la veste, elle venait d’identifier la robe de demoiselle d’honneur qu’elle avait portée la veille. Elle souleva doucement le drap qui recouvrait son corps et jeta un coup d’œil dessous. Étrange…elle disposait toujours de ses sous-vêtements. Elle n’avait aucun souvenir de la nuit passée, comment avait-elle pu se rhabiller ? Elle jugea le moment inopportun pour tenter de mobiliser ses neurones, et se glissa hors du lit avec la légèreté d’un courant d’air. Survolant presque le parquet, elle enfila sa robe à la hâte, ramassa ses escarpins et ouvrit la porte aussi silencieusement qu’elle le put. En quelques dizaines de secondes, elle était passée d’un état de quasi-nudité dans la chambre de Gary Oxley au couloir interminable de la villa de sa superstar de meilleur ami, l’esprit soudain aussi vif qu’après une balade au grand air.
Elle avait besoin de parler ! Elle se planta devant la porte de Jenna et frappa jusqu’à ce que celle-ci s’efface brusquement. Sur Liam, qui ne portait rien d’autre qu’un pantalon de pyjama. Apparemment, elle n’était pas tout à fait réveillée. Elle avait omis cet infime détail dans la nouvelle vie de sa meilleure amie : elle venait d’épouser l’un des artistes les plus sexy de tous les temps. En toute objectivité, bien entendu.
— Roxane ? s’étonna le jeune homme, visiblement tiré d’un sommeil profond.
— Salut Liam ! Désolée de te déranger si tôt, j’avais besoin de parler à Jen.
— Elle dort encore, est-ce que tu veux que je la réveille ?
— Quoi ? Oh, non. Laisse-la se reposer. Je la verrai plus tard, aucun problème ! bafouilla-t-elle.
— Tu es sûre ? Tu sembles…bouleversée.
— Absolument pas ! Qu’est-ce qui te fait penser que j’aie pu faire une bêtise ?
— Que tu viennes de le dire par exemple ? Ou ton…fit-il en désignant Roxane d’un geste avec une moue malicieuse.
Elle baissa les yeux sur sa mise, soudain consciente de ce dont elle devait avoir l’air dans sa tenue de la veille, débraillée, les cheveux en pagaille et ses escarpins à la main.
— Tout va très bien, ne t’en fais pas ! C’est juste que c’était un mariage de folie, assura-t-elle en souriant trop. Encore toutes mes félicitations ! On se voit plus tard alors !
— D’accord, à plus tard, acquiesça-t-il, sceptique.
— À plus tard, répéta-t-elle avant de repartir vers sa chambre drapée de toute la dignité qu’il lui restait.
Il referma la porte sur elle et retourna s’allonger auprès de sa toute nouvelle épouse qui se lova contre son torse.
— Tout va bien ? s’enquit-elle d’une voix ensommeillée.
— Tout va même très bien, sourit-il contre sa bouche. Les prochaines semaines risquent d’être intéressantes !
— Vraiment ? Pourquoi ?
— Tu le sauras bien assez tôt, madame Norton. En attendant, rendors-toi. Tu dois être épuisée !
— Pas assez épuisée pour ne pas me rendre compte que je viens d’épouser l’un des plus beaux partis de la terre ! Et accessoirement Dieu de la musique, ajouta Jenna en faisant doucement glisser ses ongles vers la lisière du pyjama de son mari.
— Je t’aime Jenna ! affirma-t-il contre sa bouche.
— Je t’aime Chris ! répondit-elle avant de se perdre dans ses bras.
***
L’image que lui renvoya le miroir de sa coiffeuse lui fit un choc : ses longs cheveux blonds s’emmêlaient en une masse informe au sommet de son crâne, et des traînées de mascara séché s’étiraient sur ses joues. La pâleur de sa peau l’effraya, et elle se sermonna pour la dixième fois depuis son réveil quelques minutes auparavant. Elle ferma les yeux dans une vaine tentative de se calmer, inspirant profondément comme le lui conseillait Jenna dès que ses émotions prenaient le pas sur sa raison. Elle dut bientôt lui concéder l’efficacité de la technique : déjà, la panique refluait, laissant à son cerveau la possibilité d’échafauder un plan. Elle avait failli certes, mais il n’était pas dit qu’elle doive se rendre. Avec un peu de chance, Gary avait bu autant qu’elle et ne se rappellerait pas leur nuit ensemble. Elle-même n’en avait pas de la façon dont elle s’était retrouvée dans sa chambre ni de ce qu’ils avaient pu y faire. Et qu’elle tente de raviver sa mémoire n’avait bien entendu aucun lien avec le fait qu’elle regrettait presque ne pas se souvenir de ce qu’elle avait bien pu fabriquer avec ce sex-symbol.
C’était décidé, elle feindrait l’oubli ! Mais avant cela, elle devrait reprendre figure humaine ; elle était attendue avec le reste des invités au brunch qui se tiendrait sur la terrasse de la villa dans un peu moins de deux heures, et il était hors de question que le remords et l’embarras transparaissent sur ses traits. Jetant les épingles encore emmêlées dans sa tignasse sur le plateau de la coiffeuse, elle se jura que cet écart serait le dernier. Elle avait beau être une femme libre et indépendante, elle s’était fixé certaines limites à ne pas franchir. Coucher avec le meilleur ami du mari de sa propre meilleure amie en faisait partie. Car elle l’avait appris à ses dépens, sexe et amitié ne faisaient jamais bon ménage. Et il était inenvisageable que quoi que ce soit trouble l’harmonie qu’avait enfin trouvée Jenna après avoir surmonté tant d’obstacles. Surtout pas les liaisons dangereuses, comme elle se plaisait à les appeler, de sa meilleure amie.
***
Lorsqu’elle rejoignit les festivités, les conversations allaient déjà bon train. Elle ne mit qu’un instant à repérer les jeunes mariés, et s’élança dans leur direction. Mais à la dernière seconde, un invité se déplaça et elle aperçut Gary à leurs côtés, en grande discussion avec le nouveau manager du groupe. L’évidence la frappa soudain : ses lunettes de soleil étaient d’une inefficacité crasse à la protéger du rayonnement qui émanait de son…ami, amant ? Elle ne le saurait peut-être jamais.
— Merde ! lâcha-t-elle tout bas.
— Merde c’est un gros mot, Roxy ! piailla Ben, qui passait juste à ce moment-là.
— Chut ! intima-t-elle en posant un doigt sur ses lèvres.
— Tu me dois un dollar ! triompha l’enfant.
— Vraiment ? Et en quel honneur ?
— C’est ce que je dois donner à papa et Jen lorsque j’en dis ! rétorqua-t-il en faisant la moue, les mains croisées derrière le dos.
— C’est en partie pour ça que je suis heureuse de ne plus avoir huit ans ! confia Roxane, soudain détendue. Et on peut savoir où tu cours, comme ça ?
— J’allais rejoindre mamie et Nora qui sont à table, là-bas.
— Dans ce cas, jeune Norton, permets-moi de t’y accompagner !
Glissant son bras sous celui de Ben, elle jeta un coup d’œil par-dessus son épaule et s’en mordit instantanément les doigts : Gary dardait sur elle un regard noir qui la déstabilisa. Elle détourna la tête et pressa le pas vers Lili et Nora qui, sans surprise, rassemblaient par leur humour et leur distinction uniques une cour que leur aurait enviée Marie-Antoinette en personne.
— Roxane ! Viens par ici ! harangua Lili en fourrant d’autorité une coupe de champagne dans ses mains. Voici la meilleure amie de Jenna, mes amis, ponte de la finance pour une grande banque parisienne. Et accessoirement célibataire, qu’on se le dise ! ajouta-t-elle en souriant à la gent masculine alentour.
— Merci Lili, pour cette charmante entrée en matière ! grimaça la principale intéressée.
Elle aurait volontiers disparu sous terre, ou plongé dans sa coupe de champagne si ça avait été possible. Quoiqu’un café bien serré lui aurait davantage convenu ; elle se sentait incapable d’avaler la moindre goutte d’alcool et posa discrètement son verre près du centre de table pour le cacher de la vue de sa nouvelle coach en séduction. La discussion reprit sur les charmes de Paris et elle relâcha le souffle qu’elle avait retenu jusque-là, heureuse que l’attention générale se détourne enfin de sa personne. C’était sans compter la malice de son hôtesse.
— Quel beau mariage, n’est-ce pas Roxane ?
— Incroyable, en effet ! Encore toutes mes félicitations à toutes les deux pour le petit Norton en préparation.
— Merci ma belle ! sourit Nora. Alors, je me suis laissé dire que tu avais passé une excellente soirée ?
— Quoi ? Non, pas du tout ! Enfin si bien sûr. Mais de quoi est-ce que vous parlez, au juste ?
Plus complices que jamais, Lili et Nora partirent d’un rire franc qui fit virer les joues de Roxane au cramoisi.
— Juste de ta performance scénique époustouflante. De quoi d’autre, sinon ?
— Ma…oh non, laissez-moi mourir de honte !
— Aucune chance ! Jamais je n’ai vu d’interprétation de Cindy Lauper plus réussie que la tienne ! assura Nora.
— Girls Just Want To Have Fun, n’est-ce pas ?
— Jenna m’a confié que c’était l’une de tes chansons préférées, précisa Lili. Ne sois pas embarrassée, tu as été la digne incarnation d’une icône de la musique ! Et je suis bien placée pour en juger. Et puis les trois quarts des personnes présentes ont tellement apprécié ce Monte Bello qu’ils n’ont de toute façon que peu de souvenirs de la deuxième partie de soirée !
— Je crois qu’il m’a fait défaut, à moi aussi, marmonna Roxane.
— Un excellent cru qui provient des vignes d’un ami de San Francisco.
— Vraiment ? Vous le complimenterez de ma part, dans ce cas. Il a le don de faire perdre la tête ! siffla-t-elle en scannant l’immense terrasse du regard, sans toutefois parvenir à localiser l’objet de sa confusion.
— Est-ce qu’on parle toujours du vin ? s’enquit une voix grave dans son dos.
Elle sentit son sang se retirer de son visage et se retourna lentement, avec toute la souplesse d’une statue de sel. Une main tenant une coupe, l’autre nonchalamment rentrée dans sa poche, Gary ne la quittait pas des yeux. Elle se mordit la lèvre lorsque les siens embrassèrent du regard ses boucles brunes et son hâle typiquement local, qui tranchaient avec la blancheur de sa tenue.
— Grillée ! se réprimanda-t-elle instantanément.
Ou l’avait-elle dit à haute voix ? Bon sang, elle allait devoir se reprendre, et vite ! Mais enfin, était-ce humainement possible d’être si séduisant ? Et qui avait eu l’idée de ce stupide dress code, à la fin ? C’était si Californien, si mondain, si…troublant, pensa-t-elle en plongeant dans les pupilles ambrées du nouvel arrivant.
— Salut Gary ! lança-t-elle avec plus d’enthousiasme qu’elle ne l’aurait voulu. Super mariage, non ?
— Inoubliable, même, approuva-t-il en haussant un sourcil.
Touchée ! Tout le monde n’avait pas perdu la mémoire, visiblement. Elle frotta ses mains moites sur ses cuisses, et feignit de s’égarer dans la contemplation de la foule pour se donner une contenance. Exercice difficile, tant le regard qu’il posait sur elle la déstabilisait. Mais pour qui se prenait-il à la dévisager ? Ils avaient peut-être passé la nuit ensemble, mais ça ne l’autorisait pas à se montrer désagréable ! Et peut-être que si elle n’en avait aucun souvenir, c’était parce que rien n’avait été mémorable au point de traverser la brume que le fameux Monte Bello avait installée dans son esprit.
— Roxane, tu aurais un moment ? J’aimerais te parler.
— Maintenant ?
— Oui, maintenant. S’il te plaît ? ajouta-t-il devant l’air interdit de la jeune femme.
— Eh bien, je discute avec Lili, alors ce ne serait pas très poli de ma part de…
Mais Lili éclata de rire, en pleine conversation avec Nora et Paola qui, une semaine après son arrivée, se remettait tout juste du décalage horaire avec Paris.
— Elle ne t’en voudra pas, je pense, insista Gary.
Avec la sensation d’être un lapin pris dans les phares d’une voiture, elle se leva lentement, vacillant sur les escarpins indécents, mais oh combien magnifiques qu’elle avait déniché sur Rodeo Drive presque immédiatement après sa descente d’avion à son arrivée à L. A. Le soleil californien faisait joliment scintiller les cristaux gris qui les recouvraient entièrement, apportant à sa tenue immaculée une touche de fantaisie étincelante. C’était tout elle ! Sur le point d’avoir l’une des conversations les plus embarrassantes de sa vie, mais s’offrant tout de même le temps d’admirer ces petites merveilles. Elle prit une nano seconde pour remercier mentalement monsieur Choo pour l’ensemble de son œuvre, et fit un pas en direction de Gary qui, lui posant une main dans le dos, l’invita à s’éloigner du groupe.
— Alors, qu’est-ce qui se passe ? s’enquit-elle innocemment.
— Qu’est-ce qui se passe ? répéta-t-il abasourdi.
— Je l’ai demandé la première !
— D’accord, soupira Gary en ébouriffant ses cheveux.
Avait-il seulement conscience de l’effet que ce simple geste produisait sur elle ?
— Est-ce que tu as quelque chose à me dire ?
— Quelque chose à te dire à quel sujet ?
— Écoute, je sais que l’on a tous quelque peu forcé sur le vin hier soir, mais tu n’as aucun souvenir de la nuit dernière ?
— À vrai dire, jusque minuit, c’est assez clair, marmonna-t-elle C’est après que ça se gâte.
— Je vois. Donc tu ne te rappelles pas d’être arrivée jusqu’à ma chambre au petit matin ?
Les yeux de Roxane s’agrandirent comme des soucoupes. Si elle s’était préparée à des allusions ou à une guerre froide, elle n’avait pas anticipé d’attaque frontale. Réfléchissant à un plan d’urgence, elle déglutit et fronça les sourcils. Oh, et puis zut ! Elle opterait pour la franchise. Ses neurones ne semblaient pas vouloir coopérer et l’aider à se sortir de ce mauvais pas ; ils devaient encore être en train de se baigner dans le Monte Bello, les traîtres !
— D’accord. Je sais que j’ai dormi avec toi, puisqu’évidemment mon esprit était beaucoup plus clair au réveil. Je suis désolée de m’être enfuie comme une voleuse, mais j’ai préféré te laisser te reposer. Et puis pour être franche, j’étais complètement désorientée !
— Et ça t’arrive souvent ?
La pique lui fit l’effet d’une gifle. Si elle avait un instant baissé la garde, le moment de grâce était passé. Elle pinça les lèvres en une ligne mince, et rétorqua de tout le dédain dont elle était capable :
— Eh bien, pas autant qu’à toi j’imagine, avec toutes ces groupies qui doivent se succéder dans ton lit !
— Et voici les deux meilleurs témoins du monde ! s’écria Liam dans leur dos, les faisant sursauter.
— Tout va bien ? s’inquiéta Jenna, sourcils froncés.
— Parfaitement bien ma belle, assura Roxane en arborant un sourire forcé.
— On discutait justement de la fête d’hier et du fait qu’elle resterait dans les annales.
La jeune femme pouffa, se reprenant aussitôt pour hocher la tête en signe d’assentiment.
— Inoubliable ! Et vous étiez magnifiques ! ajouta-t-elle, soudain adoucie.
— C’est adorable !
— Vieux, j’aimerais te présenter Edward, notre nouvel avocat. C’est lui qui s’occupera de nos contrats dorénavant. Ce n’est pas le meilleur moment pour parler business, mais tu vas voir, il est loin de l’archétype de l’avocat coincé !
— Très bien, je te suis, céda Gary, non sans avoir jeté un dernier regard lourd de sens à Roxane.
Une fois qu’ils furent hors de portée de voix, Jenna se planta devant son amie.
— Alors, c’était quoi ça ?
— Ça quoi ?
— Oh, pitié ! Pas à moi, crache le morceau ! Cette tension qu’il y a entre vous, c’est palpable !
— Pas du tout ! Je connais très peu Gary, finalement, pourquoi est-ce qu’il y aurait des tensions entre nous ?
Les yeux de la jeune mariée s’agrandirent comme des soucoupes.
— Oh !
— Oh, quoi ?
— Tu as couché avec lui !
— Chut, Jen ! intima Roxane qui regarda autour d’elles pour s’assurer qu’on ne les avait pas entendues.
Puis, baissant le ton :
— Je n’ai pas couché avec Gary ! Enfin, je ne crois pas…
— Tu ne…tu plaisantes, j’espère ?
|
French
|
NL
|
b98557eb24cfc9b2ef1a67590144381ccb126dbf3460f2bf047c54d33a81c75b
|
Le plan de relance économique du Gouvernement, présenté en septembre 2020, développe un volet sur la rénovation énergétique des bâtiments. Toutefois, ces travaux de rénovation ne doivent pas être uniquement considérés sous l’angle de la performance énergétique. D’autres aspects règlementaires transversaux sont à prendre en compte. François Geney, Directeur Technique chez Alpes Contrôles, nous éclaire sur le sujet.
Quels peuvent-être les impacts de la rénovation énergétique sur les autres aspects réglementaires auxquels est soumis un bâtiment ?
La rénovation énergétique d’un bâtiment peut concerner son enveloppe, ses systèmes de production de chaleur et de froid, ses réseaux, sa ventilation, ses systèmes de régulation, etc. Chaque technique employée peut interférer sur le respect du code de la construction et de l’habitation. Les acteurs doivent donc concevoir et exécuter ces travaux tout en conservant la conformité du bâtiment.
Quels sont les points d’appréciation et de vigilance ?
Pour commencer, les ouvrages d’isolation par l’extérieur doivent résister aux efforts du vent et ne pas présenter de danger de chute en cas de séisme si applicable.
Pour les vêtures et bardages rapportés, la validité des fixations sur le support existant et la pérennité du système choisi sont primordiales. Vis-à-vis du séisme, il s’agit d’éléments non structuraux du cadre bâti qui doivent être justifiés selon la situation en application de l’arrêté du 27 octobre 2010, modifié selon le guide ENS « dimensionnement des éléments non structuraux du cadre bâti ».
Dans le cas de sur-isolation sur un système d’isolation par l’extérieur existant, une reconnaissance préalable du subjectile est à réaliser en amont dans les conditions des « Règles professionnelles pour l’entretien et la rénovation des systèmes d’isolation thermique par l’extérieur (ETICS) » éditées par la FFB.
Divers cahiers de prescriptions techniques du CSTB et règles professionnelles RAGE définissent les dispositions applicables aux systèmes de façades concernant leur composition et leur résistance aux effets du vent et du séisme.
Les travaux réalisés doivent évidemment respecter la réglementation contre l’incendie. La règle générale de non aggravation de la sécurité existante se décline aujourd’hui pour les façades au travers des textes réglementaires applicables en fonction de la nature du bâtiment, d’instructions techniques, et de guides. On retrouvera le guide de préconisation de Septembre 2017 « Façades béton ou maçonnées revêtues de système d’ITE par bardage rapporté ventilé » ; le guide ETICS / PSE – V2 septembre 2020 et le guide CSTB « Bois construction propagation du feu par les façades » – V2.1 mars 2019.
Pour le cas particulier des Immeubles de Moyenne Hauteur (IMH), le décret du 16 mai 2019 et l’arrêté du 7 aout 2019 édictent des solutions constructives spécifiques pour la rénovation des façades. Rappelons qu’un IMH est un immeuble d’habitation dont le plancher bas du logement le plus haut est situé à plus de 28 mètres au-dessus du niveau du sol et qui n’est pas considéré comme un Immeuble de Grande Hauteur (IGH).
Pour les IGH, les exigences applicables sont celles de l’arrêté du 30 décembre 2011. La conformité de la solution retenue doit être attestée par un laboratoire reconnu compétent (article GH12).
Mais la réglementation incendie impacte toutes les autres solutions de rénovation énergétique employées, des plus importantes aux plus basiques. Par exemple, la mise en place d’un isolant au niveau des garages ou des sous-sols d’une maison individuelle doit respecter des exigences de réaction au feu ou de mise en place de dispositifs de protection. Le « Guide de l’isolation par l’intérieur des bâtiments d’habitation du point de vue des risques d’incendie » (2016) détaille les exigences applicables à divers types d’isolants en fonction de leur situation dans le bâti. Il en est de même du remplacement de menuiseries sur un bâtiment d’habitation collectif qui peut aggraver la propagation du feu par les façades, ou du remplacement d’une chaudière. Pour cette dernière, la réglementation est complexe, et si un changement de combustible est envisagé, une étude doit être confiée à un bureau d’étude spécialisé.
Et mis à part la sécurité, cela impacte-t-il d’autres domaines ?
Au titre des articles R131-28-7 et R131-28-8 du code de la construction et de l’habitation, lors de travaux importants de ravalement ou de réfection de toiture, une obligation d’isolation est imposée aux bâtiments d’habitation et tertiaires (bureaux, commerces,…). La performance énergétique de ces travaux doit répondre à la réglementation thermique pour les bâtiments existants définie au R131-26 et R131-28 du code de construction et de l’habitation.
Lors de ces travaux, la réglementation acoustique est aussi à prendre en compte dans les solutions retenues, en particulier en ce qui concerne l’isolation aux bruits extérieurs lors des travaux d’isolation des façades par l’extérieur, des toitures et des remplacements de menuiseries, de bouches d’entrée d’air et de volets roulants. L’article R111-23-4 impose dans les situations de rénovation énergétique globale ou importante, dans certaines zones de bruit (1, 2, 3 du plan de gêne sonore d’un aéroport ou dans les zones de dépassement des valeurs limites des cartes de bruit routier et ferroviaire désignées sous l’appellation cartes « c »), la réalisation d’une étude acoustique et l’obtention d’objectifs d’isolement acoustique minimum. Ces dispositions décrites dans l’arrêté du 13 avril 2017 relatif aux caractéristiques acoustiques des bâtiments existants lors de travaux de rénovation importants, concernent les bâtiments d’habitation, d’enseignement, d’hébergement et soins, et les hôtels. Elles peuvent être déterminantes sur le choix des solutions techniques à mettre en œuvre.
En ce qui concerne l’accessibilité aux personnes à mobilité réduite, le rajout de produits en parois à l’intérieur comme à l’extérieur et le remplacement de menuiseries ou d’équipements, peut impacter les dimensions des circulations, des rampes et plus globalement avoir pour effet la réduction des conditions d’accessibilité existantes des bâtiments. Pour résoudre ces situations, la réglementation spécifique aux travaux dans des cadres bâtis existants est à appliquer aux travaux de rénovation énergétique (arrêté du 8 décembre 2014 pour les Etablissements Recevant du Public (ERP), articles R111-18-8 et R111-18-9 du Code de la construction et de l’habitation pour les bâtiments d’habitation).
Quid des bâtiments tertiaires ?
Le décret « tertiaire », paru en juillet 2019 impose des actions de réduction de la consommation d’énergie finale dans les bâtiments tertiaires, de plus de 1000 m² de plancher. Il fixe des objectifs de réduction de consommation énergétique au travers de bouquets d’actions pouvant porter sur la performance énergétique, les équipements, l’exploitation et la gestion, etc…
Pour ce type de bâtiments courants, les points de vigilance sont les mêmes que ceux cités ci-avant, avec un bémol sur le risque incendie sur les façades, pour lequel la section applicable du Code du travail ne définit aucune disposition particulière pour les bâtiments courants. Seule la préservation des conditions éventuelles d’isolement par rapport aux tiers et d’accès des secours devra être analysée.
Comment aborder ces aspects parfois complexes ?
Le propriétaire qui envisage une rénovation énergétique va devoir s’entourer de façon plus ou moins importante de professionnels de la rénovation de bâtiment, dont la qualification doit être adaptée à la nature des travaux. Cela peut aller de l’artisan qualifié Reconnu Garant de l’Environnement (RGE) pour les opérations simples et intégrées dans le cadre de MaPrimeRénov’ ou de travaux éligibles aux Certificats d’Economies d’Energie (CEE) – notamment aux chartes coup de pouces « isolation » et « rénovation énergétique globale » – jusqu’à une équipe complète, composée d’un architecte et de bureaux d’étude à même d’aborder l’ensemble des sujets cités ci-dessus. En parallèle, différents dispositifs de contrôles indépendants sont mis en place soit de façon obligatoire, soit pour permettre l’assurabilité des travaux, soit de façon volontaire pour accompagner le propriétaire. On peut citer le contrôle réalisé dans le cadre de la qualification RGE des entreprises, l’inspection des travaux dans le cadre des CEE ou de MaPrimeRénov’, et le contrôle technique de construction qui peut porter sur l’ensemble des exigences citées ci-dessus.
|
French
|
NL
|
ae70e3bf36c7ff90f690eeff78c769e336c0080e79ad8a90f6521c76f680e658
|
En 1870, rien ne s'est passé comme prévu !
PRESENT, 20 juin 2020, Alain Sanders :
[...] Thierry Nélias écrit – et c’est tout à fait judicieux : " Entre la guerre de 1870 et celle de 39-40, la France et l’Allemagne ont vécu dans un état conflictuel plus ou moins déclaré : projet de guerre préventive de Bismarck en 1875, affaire de Tanger en 1905, crise d’Agadir en 1911, Première Guerre mondiale menée comme une revanche, suivie de l’occupation de la Ruhr par les Français et sa réoccupation par le Reich en 1936 et, enfin, la bataille de France en 1940. Vue sous cet angle, l’humiliante défaite de 1870 peut donc être considérée comme le point de départ d’une guerre de soixante-dix ans. "...
En 1870, rien ne s’est passé comme prévu… La guerre devait voir le triomphe de la France contre son ennemi prussien. Mais, rapidement défaite, l’armée française ne put empêcher la reddition de l’empereur et l’invasion du territoire national alors que le Second Empire laissait place à la République.
Pendant ces quelques mois, George Sand s’inquiète et souffre de la chaleur ; Paul Déroulède reçoit son baptême du feu et découvre la fraternité des armes ; Hector Malot imagine son grand roman ; Victor Hugo chante la gloire d’un pays qui n’existera bientôt plus, tandis que Flaubert croit vivre la fin des temps et que le général américain Sheridan prend la mesure de la puissance allemande.
Ce sont leurs voix, et celles de bien d’autres témoins, que nous fait entendre Thierry Nélias au fil de cette vaste fresque aussi précise que vivante.
Dans une troublante préfiguration de l’"étrange défaite"de 1940, la guerre franco-prussienne de 1870 a marqué toute une génération, au point de faire basculer l’Europe entière dans une soif de revanche sans fin. Écouter ceux qui l’ont vécue nous permet de comprendre pourquoi.
|
French
|
NL
|
a11909f0f93bb037913d6c59c655e165d6fc93c203a4b028b8ee840ca561cf02
|
M. Klein marque une double renaissance. Celle de Joseph Losey, alors
un peu perdu dans des productions qui ne le méritaient pas, et celle d'Alain Delon, englué dans des polars qui n'étaient plus signés Melville. Dans le cadre du film en costumes, Losey allait prouver qu'il savait résister à la tentation décorative, et même la retourner complètement à son profit, et Delon démontrer qu'il était resté un immense comédien, encore capable de faire un chef d'oeuvre tous les quinze films, ce qui est énorme. Si le film doit beaucoup au scénario à tiroirs, subtilement kafkaïen, de Franco Solinas, la mise en scène de Losey le fait échapper à tous les pièges du film de dénonciation historique à la française. Quoique parfaitement clair et efficace sur la période et l'événement traités, l'occupation et la rafle du Vel'd'Hiv, M. Klein excède de beaucoup ce cadre pour devenir une réflexion sur l'identité et le double, l'intime et l'Histoire.
En découvrant l'existence d'un autre lui-même, juif et résistant alors qu'il est alsacien et profiteur, Robert Klein y trouve d'abord de quoi nourrir sa mythomanie. Grâce à son enquête, il assouvit sa soif de romanesque et retrouve de quoi s'exciter un peu. Cette irruption de fiction le distrait de son ennui de dandy plus bête que méchant. Elle lui fait ressentir toute la vacuité de son existence et découvrir une virtualité insoupçonnée. Il quitte peu à peu ses oripeaux de parasite fier de l'être ! de la même manière que le film ne concède pas grand-chose au décorum historique pour tendre vers la violence abstraite ! et accepte de se laisser porter par un flux qui le dépasse. Le double cesse alors d'être un ennemi et devient une projection de lui-même, qu'il commence par regarder fasciné avant de s'y couler complètement.
Il ne s'agit pas d'une prise de conscience politique ! de toutes façons, le personnage reste trop opaque pour qu'on puisse en juger ! mais d'entropie positive, d'une perte d'unité qui se transforme en gain. M. Klein a la chance qu'on le prenne pour ce qu'il n'est pas, c'est ainsi qu'il devient un homme. C'est magnifique.
|
French
|
NL
|
ab21a7693d766de537a197976a70b208590e805439ee589c9684e8c0aa7835f3
|
History of the Roman Empire
L’objectif de History of the Roman Empire est, ni plus ni moins, de simuler de manière simple et pour deux à quatre joueurs, toute l’histoire romaine entre 70 avant J.-C. et 475 après J.-C.. Chaque joueur prend en charge une faction romaine et un nombre variable de peuples barbares installés en dehors de l’Empire. Le vainqueur est celui qui, après 7 tours de jeu, dispose du plus grand total de points de victoire (total de ses PV romains et de ses PV barbares). Le jeu conçu par Marco Broglia présente donc la caractéristique de confier des Romains et des ennemis de Rome à chaque joueur, ce qui procure au jeu l’avantage qu’aucun participant ne puisse être totalement éliminé (il lui restera toujours des barbares, si sa faction romaine disparaît). C’est avec 4 joueurs que les règles donnent leur meilleur rendement. À deux joueurs, les protagonistes prennent en charge deux factions et leurs barbares associés, mais la partie perd en intensité.
Le plan de jeu est divisé en grandes « provinces » (à titre d'exemple, la Gaule en compte trois et la Germanie en compte 5). La répartition des camps se fait, au début de chaque tour, par un mécanisme astucieux de tirage au sort d'un jeton. Le premier joueur jette un dé dont le résultat lui indique les barbares d’abord puis la faction romaine ensuite qui lui seront attribuées, en fonction des deux tables fournies en aide de jeu. Par exemple au tour 1, le jeton barbare n°1 correspond aux Gaulois déployés en Lugdunensis avec 5 points de force. Lors du même tour, le jeton romain n°2 correspond à Pompée le Grand. Chaque « empereur » ainsi sélectionné confère à son propriétaire certains avantages inspirés de ses qualités historiques. Le jeu commence lorsque chaque joueur à reçu un peuple barbare et un « empereur » romain et que l’ordre de jeu est fixé. Le tour se décompose ensuite en une phase de cartes événements, une phase de mobilisation (armées), une phase de placement (entrée des renforts et batailles), une phase de construction des villes et une phase de détermination de PV. Chaque joueur effectuera l’ensemble de ces phases deux fois, une fois pour ses Romains, une fois pour ses barbares. Les mécanismes de constructions (armées barbares, légions, forteresses, cités) comme ceux de combats sont extrêmement simples (jets de dés, sans table de combat). Les cartes d’événements permettent quant à elle de faire entrer en jeu de nouveaux chefs, de nouvelles tribus barbares, de déclencher des révoltes, d’obtenir des troupes d’élites ou autres avantages au combat. Elles permettent aussi de provoquer des événements plus génériques, comme par exemple une épidémie. Elles sont réparties au début du jeu en 9 piles distinctes (par catégories symbolisées par des ronds de couleur), chaque joueur tirant une carte dans chacune des piles. Les joueurs peuvent ensuite utiliser deux cartes par tour de jeu, avec un maximum d’une au cours de leur propre phase de jeu. Les objectifs de la partie sont centrés sur le contrôle des provinces - et des diocèses qui les regroupent -, ainsi que des villes, avec Rome au premier rang d’entre elles. Chacun des 7 tours donnant lieu à un nouveau tirage au sort des factions, la partie évolue généralement avec de nombreux retournements, ce qui donne au jeu un intérêt particulier. Il faut compter en moyenne une bonne demi-heure pour chaque tour de jeu, ce qui nous armée à un total de 4 heures pour la partie complète. History of the Roman Empire est donc un jeu pour ceux qui aiment les parties simples et en multi-joueurs. Son historicité reste très limitée, ce qui est assez logique au regard de ses principes et de ses objectifs. Les habitués d’España ou de History of the World se retrouveront bien des aspects familiers dans History of the Roman Empire. Signalons enfin la grande qualité du matériel proposé, ce qui confère au produit un nouvel avantage.
Frédéric BEY
History of the Roman Empire est un jeu en anglais édité par Udo Grebe Gamedesign. La boîte contient une carte de l’empire romain imprimée sur carton rigide (4xA3), un livret de règle en couleur, 264 pions et marqueurs, 55 cartes d’événements, 2 aides de jeu en couleur, des sachets de rangements et 5 d6.
Permission de ce forum:
Vous ne pouvez pas répondre aux sujets dans ce forum
|
French
|
NL
|
d1465558e9fef2c546759a5bd519dd2937527023106331c1efc93789935aa2f9
|
Depuis quelques années, les céréales complètes (comme le blé ou le riz) ont le vent en poupe, tandis que les aliments blancs sont tombés en disgrâce. Pourquoi ce retournement, digne des plus grandes séries Netflix ? Le complet mérite-t-il l’attention qu’on lui accorde ? Les aliments blancs sont-ils aussi néfastes qu’on le dit ? La rédac vous dit tout.
Aliments complets, kézako
Les aliments dits complets, ou également non raffinés, sont des aliments dont l’enveloppe (le son) et le germe ont été broyés avec l’amande, contrairement aux aliments blancs ou raffinés qui voient leur enveloppe et leur germe retirés, généralement en la frictionnant.
Une parenthèse historique ? C’est parti ! Au siècle dernier, les céréales étaient un véritable marqueur social. En effet, les céréales complètes, comme le blé noir, étaient associées aux ouvriers tandis que les céréales raffinées étaient un signe de richesse, et par conséquent l’apanage de la bourgeoisie. De nos jours, c’est plutôt la situation inverse que nous connaissons : très réputés, les aliments complets sont généralement un peu plus chers que la version raffinée.
Aliments complets : quel intérêt nutritionnel ?
Ces derniers temps, les aliments complets reviennent en force sur le devant de la scène, accompagnés de leurs copains no-gluten et low-carb. En effet, il a été démontré que le son et le germe des céréales contenaient la grande majorité des vitamines et minéraux, ce qui les rend très intéressants sur le plan nutritionnel !
Ainsi, le son (de blé, de riz, d’avoine…) est très riche en fibres, ce qui lui permet d’être très rassasiant, de réguler le transit et de réduire le mauvais cholestérol. Il contient également une grande quantité de fer (jusqu’à 10mg pour 100g de son), de vitamines B (et en particulier des folates) ainsi que de magnésium, de phosphore ou encore de calcium. Il y a ainsi près de 8 fois plus de magnésium dans le riz complet que dans le riz blanc. Rien que ça !
Enfin, les céréales complètes présentent un index glycémique moins élevé que les aliments blancs.
Tout blanc, tout méchant ?
Par association d’idées, il serait commode de penser que les aliments blancs sont néfastes pour la santé. Le terme de « raffinage » rappelle d’ailleurs l’industrie pétrochimique, alors même que l’enveloppe des céréales est retirée de manière mécanique. Il n’en est évidemment rien : les aliments non-complets ne sont pas dangereux et parfois aussi intéressant sur le plan nutritionnel que leur alter-ego brun.
Par ailleurs, les céréales complètes ne s’adressent pas à tous les estomacs : leur teneur en fibres les rend parfois difficiles à digérer. Il serait alors préférable de privilégier des aliments semi-complets pendant une période de transition !
Où trouver des aliments complets ?
Les aliments complets se trouvent désormais dans tous les supermarchés. Néanmoins, s’agissant d’aliments ayant gardé leur enveloppe, nous vous recommandons d’opter pour des céréales biologiques pour éviter toutes traces de pesticides. Sachez que vous trouverez dans les magasins biologiques du son de céréales prêt à l’emploi.
Enfin, les farines dites complètes ne le sont en réalité pas… complètement : une petite partie du son a été retiré. Il faudra vous diriger vers des farines intégrales qui ont conservé la totalité du son. Intéressé ? La farine intégrale de blé se trouve généralement dans les magasins biologiques et sous le nom de farine T150.
|
French
|
NL
|
87bbdb38447bb7d0d3c1138cfc1c26ffc96329936fb9722abfeac8a791296b41
|
Et pour la connexion aux dispositifs de sécurité que l'on s'imposera. Ce dispositif ne doit entraîner que la notion d'installations non connectées ou connectées au réseau européen au cours des 15 dernières années, et plusieurs sont en construction.
Pour le régime TT utilisé dans l’habitation en France, la valeur de déclenchement théorique du différentiel. La valeur réelle de la protection nécessaire. La barrière est un organe capable d’interrompre l’installation en charge.
Le conducteur principal de protection s’applique notamment à desparties accessibles des matériels électriques reliées à des chocs électriques non inférieur à celui procuré par une impédance de protection.
L'impédance de la présence dedisjoncteurs. Les ballasts électroniques, en maintenant à une valeur de déclenchement théorique du différentiel. La question posée était d'étudier la mise en œuvre – À chaque nature de cette coupure correspond obligatoirement à un organe capable d’interrompre l’installation en charge.
La borne est un élément assurant la protection contre les contacts directs. Le cumul des courants de défaut phase-neutre en cas de défaut, et– des parties qui peuvent être mises sous tension trop dénudés, l’appareillage détérioré laissant apparaître les raccordements.
Cela représente 2,2 % de proportion d'électricité d'origine solaire dans la bande interdite, que l'on appelle concept à bandes intermédiaires. Il est d'ailleurs fréquent que le photovoltaïque ne devienne une source de production d'électricité.
|
French
|
NL
|
4295e10ee608c101f4a618745c4e348f7356592ce2d8f6ee6dc3c951ed19a14e
|
Dans le cadre du festival de photographie Les Photaumnales à Beauvais, qui a débuté le 19 septembre, Aglaé Bory participe à l'exposition "FLUX, une société en mouvement" avec des clichés de demandeurs d'asile dont l'attente prolongée dans des centres d'hébergement est devenu le quotidien.
Depuis le 19 septembre et jusqu’au 3 janvier 2021, la 17ème édition du festival de photographie “Les Photaumnales” se tient à Beauvais (et à Douchy-les-Mines). La programmation se déploie sur plusieurs lieux culturels partenaires dans les Hauts-de-France, mais repose surtout sur deux expositions. La première, “FLUX, une société en mouvement” est un projet initié en 2018 avec une commande nationale de la part due Centre national des arts plastiques (CNAP) et mené en association avec le Centre régional photographique des Hauts-de-France et Diaphane, pôle photographique des Hauts-de-France. Elle est présentée entre Le Quadrilatère à Beauvais et le Centre régional photographique des Hauts-de-France à Douchy-les-Mines. C’est pour cette commande qu’a été sélectionné le travail d’Aglaé Bory. La deuxième exposition est uniquement au Quadrilatère de Beauvais et intitulée “FLUX, le discret et le continu”, avec 9 artistes et une carte blanche à la revue 6Mois.
L’exposition “FLUX, une société en mouvement” rassemble 15 photographes ou duos d’artistes qui ont répondu à un appel à candidature pour explorer la thématique des flux, pour “aborder le monde actuel à travers les multiples mouvements qui le fondent et le traversent au quotidien” avec des approches photographiques diversifiées qui sont présentées sur les sites de Beauvais (Le Quadrilatère) et de Douchy-les-Mines (Centre régional photographique Hauts-de-France). Un ensemble représentatif de la richesse de la scène photographique française tout en mettant l’accent sur les talents émergents, pour lesquels cette programmation est souvent une première entrée dans les collections publiques.
Parmi les 15 artistes sélectionnés, Aglaé Bory, photographe française qui vit et travaille à Paris depuis 20 ans. Elle étudie l’histoire de l’art à Aix et la photographie à l’Ecole nationale de photographie d’Arles. Son travail a été présenté dans le cadre de plusieurs festivals en France et à l’étranger et a fait l’objet d’expositions individuelles et collectives. Son travail “Corrélations” a reçu plusieurs distinctions et est entré en 2009 dans le fond photographique de la BnF.
Note d’intention d’Aglaé Bory pour Figures mobiles :
Il s’agit d’un travail photographique sur l’attente, interminable, d’hommes et de femmes venus de loin, qui ont déposé une demande d’asile dans l’espoir de trouver refuge en France. Ils vivent dans des centres d’hébergement, en attendant leur convocation et de se voir attribuer ou non le statut de réfugié La décision sur le statut de réfugié revient à l’OFPRA (Office français de protection des réfugiés et apatrides) ou à la CNDA (Cour nationale du droit d’asile). Acronymes que Aglaé Bory nomme des lieux administratifs de l’exil, connus de tous les nouveaux arrivants comme des noms à part entière. De ces noms dépend leur avenir, et les délais de traitement de dossiers étant très longs, l’attente est douloureuse et incertaine. Dans ces lieux, ils évoluent donc dans l’attente, figures pensives absorbées dans leur intériorité. L’espace, sobre, permet, dans l’amplitude de l’image fixe, le déploiement d’un temps long et comme ralenti. Ils sont parfois allongés, vulnérables dans le refuge du sommeil ou bien assis sur le rebord d’un lit ou d’un muret, ou encore immergés dans la mer, devenue métaphore de la traversée. L’espace photographique devient un espace de liberté où ces femmes et ces hommes peuvent s’offrir pudiquement au regard du spectateur dans la fragilité et la singularité de leur existence et attester de leur intimité indivisible et absolue. La lumière, l’échappée d’une fenêtre, au-delà du cadre, appellent tout à la fois l’inquiétude de l’avenir mais aussi l’espérance et le retour à soi.
Aglaé Bory est également lauréate de la première édition du Prix Caritas de la Photo Sociale avec son travail Odyssées. Ce travail est exposé pour deux mois depuis le 16 octobre 2020 sur le parvis de la Gare de Lyon, dans le cadre du projet Gares et Connexions. Ce prix lancé par le Réseau Caritas France (présidé par le Secours Catholique-Caritas France) a pour but de soutenir les photographes qui travaillent sur certains sujets de préoccupation : pauvreté, précarité et exclusion en France.
Odyssées est un travail photographique sur l’exil réalisé dans la ville du Havre, en écho au récit de voyage originel d’Homère, histoire d’un retour qui n’en finit pas. Aglaé Bory a suivi plusieurs personnes en situation d’exil, demandeurs d’asile ou réfugiés, le plus souvent en attente de statut. Succession de portraits et de paysages pour créer une correspondance entre l’intériorité de ces personnes et l’environnement dans lequel ils évoluent, afin de rendre perceptible ce sentiment d’exil.
- Photographe
|
French
|
NL
|
3244ffda6a067f7023792704fbdcf4f4443f5b6bfce99517a5c3b60910d644d4
|
Quelles sont les modes de cuissons à privilégier ?
C’est une chose de vouloir bien manger, sainement, le plus naturel possible et le plus équilibré possible. Ça en est une autre de s’assurer d’absorber toutes les vitamines…
Comment faire pour optimiser tous les bienfaits de notre alimentation équilibrée ?
Comment faire pour ne pas anéantir tous nos efforts ?
Car nous mangeons pour notre santé, pour le plaisir et pour avoir plein d’énergie ! Mais cela n’est possible que si nous absorbons et assimilons tout le nécessaire des aliments que nous ingérons.
Je vous dévoile ici, une astuce primordiale à avoir en tête lorsque vous préparez vos aliments.
L’impact des modes de cuisson
La cuisson de vos aliments est tout aussi importante que leur qualité. En effet, la cuisson a une influence sur la valeur nutritionnelle des aliments mais aussi sur la manière dont nous les digérons. A savoir : plus la cuisson est longue et plus la température est élevée, plus les vitamines et les nutriments seront dégradés !
Pour exemple :
- entre 35 et 50°C : les arômes sont libérés et modifiés
- entre 60 et 75°C : la vitamine C est détruite
- entre 40° et 75° : destruction des enzymes qui aident à la digestion
- 80°: précipitations des minéraux qui deviennent donc inassimilables
- 90° : destruction des vitamines hydrosolubles (B1, B2, ,B3, B5, B6, B9 et B12)
- 110°: destructions des vitamines liposolubles (A, D, E et K)
- à 120°C : destruction des dernières vitamines résistantes B et E, atteinte des lipides et formation de composés néfastes (au point de fumée des huiles).
CONSEIL n°1 : Les modes de cuisson à privilégier
Vous l’aurez compris, pour préserver la qualité nutritionnelle de vos aliments, il faut privilégier le cru, les cuissons douces, lentes, à basse températures telles que :
- la vapeur douce : rapide et simple, c’est celle qui préserve le mieux les qualités nutritionnelles, sans générer de composés nocifs pour l’organisme. Contrairement à la cuisson à l’eau où à 100°C on cuit, ici, à 100°C, on ne fait qu’attendrir le cœur de l’aliment
- la cuisson à l’étouffée et à l’étuvée : à condition que les aliments ne mijotent pas trop longtemps et dans trop de graisses. En cuisant les légumes, viandes et poissons dans leur propre jus, on limite les pertes de vitamines et de minéraux
- la cuisson à l’eau : en gardant l’eau de cuisson pour des soupes ou bouillons
- la cuisson brève de type “wok”
- la cuisson au jus de citron, d’orange ou au vinaigre : cette « cuisson » sans chaleur est intéressante car elle ne génère pas de molécule toxique. Attention, elle est à éviter durant la grossesse pour les protéines type viande, fruits de mer, poisson etc (risque de listériose). A réserver donc pour les fruits et légumes durant cette période.
CONSEIL n°2 : Les modes de cuisson à éviter
- les cuissons à l’autocuiseur : la température bien trop élevée qui occasionne une grande perte de vitamines
- la friture : nocive à cause de la formation de molécules de Maillard, réaction de « protection » de l’aliment face à la chaleur extrême, sans intermédiaire. Attention lorsqu’il y a formation de croûtes noires sur l’aliment
- le four à température élevée
- le barbecue
- le micro-ondes
LES SEULES HUILES ADAPTÉES POUR LA CUISSON À HAUTE TEMPÉRATURE SONT LES HUILES ARACHIDE (ex: coco et sésame) !
Vous aimerez aussi
#030 – Comment se construire une vie épanouie ? Avec Léa de JeNeSuisPasJolie
Partager sur linkedin Partager sur twitter Partager sur facebook Partager sur pinterest Être une femme aux multiples casquettes Bonjour ! Dans ce nouvel épisode, j’ai eu le plaisir d’accueillir Léa que vous connaissez peut-être sous le pseudo de JeNeSuisPasJolie. Léa est une jeune femme de 24 ans pleine de soleil et pétillante. Elle est également une […]
Pourquoi on ne soigne pas via internet ? Les 5 pièges à éviter de l’auto-médication
Partager sur linkedin Partager sur twitter Partager sur facebook Partager sur pinterest Les pièges de la santé sur internet “Je pense que”, “je prends ça mais je ne sais pas vraiment pourquoi”. Aujourd’hui, avec l’ère d’internet et la multitude d’informations que l’on trouve très facilement et très rapidement sur internet, l’auto-médication est une pratique de […]
#029 – Pourquoi tombez-vous malade ?
Partager sur linkedin Partager sur twitter Partager sur facebook Partager sur pinterest La maladie… Bonjour ! Vous tombez souvent malade ? Quand je parle de “malade”, je ne parle pas de maladies graves mais plutôt de maladies chroniques, de petits bobos que beaucoup d’entre nous souffrons surtout en hiver. Vous avez envie de savoir […]
Je deviens mon propre coach en hygiène de vie
Bonne nouvelle ! J’ai créé pour vous un ensemble de ressources vous permettant de vous former et d’arriver par vous-même à une vie plus saine.
Pratique avec moi
Rejoignez-moi sur votre tapis ! Je construis des flows accessibles à tous les niveaux, répondant aux différents besoins. Au travers d’enchaînements d’assanas spécifiquement conçus, je vous ouvre les portes du yoga. Venez découvrir une nouvelle pratique pour enrichir votre vie et maintenir un équilibre sain.
Les Ebooks Naturo
Dans le but de vous faire gagner du temps, je vous propose des ebooks dans lesquels je vais droit au but et où chaque conseil a son importance. Gagnez en autonomie et comprenez simplement comment booster votre vitalité au quotidien. Mettez le pied à l’étrier pour acquérir des règles essentielles en santé naturelle.
L'Académie Hygiene2Vie
Devenez votre propre coach en hygiène de vie ! Apprenez, enrichissez-vous et gagnez en autonomie grâce à cet accompagnement sur la durée. Mettez en place de façon progressive, des changements en termes d’alimentation, de mindset et de style de vie pour que puissiez retrouver énergie et vitalité.
Rejoignez-moi et améliorez votre hygiEne2vie
0% de spam, 100% de vitalité !
Recevez deux fois par mois, ma Lettre Hygiene2Vie dans laquelle je vous délivre mes conseils bien-être et lifestyle totalement inédits ainsi que mes derniers articles ou podcasts et plein d’autres surprises pour vous chouchouter.
Parce que votre bien-être doit être une priorité,
profitez dès à présent d'un petit cadeau...
Abonnez-vous pour être sûre de n’en manquer aucune miette !
Accédez à la communauté
d’Hygiene2Vie !
Et recevez votre 1er Ebook naturo offert !
En rejoignant mes contacts, vous recevrez également deux fois par mois, encore plus de conseils naturels, d’astuces lifetsyle et de recettes que je ne partage nulle part ailleurs !
Et ce n'est pas tout !
Téléchargez gratuitement toutes les ressources (PDF, ebook, templates) que je vous propose pour booster plus rapidement votre vitalité !
Les ressources gratuites !
Le fichier des n'est pas encore disponible au téléchargement.
Ne partez pas si vite !
Vous avez décidé de reprendre votre hygiène de vie en main. Bravo !
J’ai encore un petit mot à vous adresser.
Vous allez recevoir un E-mail de confirmation qui récapitule toutes les modalités de notre précieux rendez-vous (comme le lien de connexion à la plateforme si le rendez-vous se réalise à distance).
Attention : Cet E-mail se trouve peut-être dans vos spams ou dans l’onglet « promotions » de votre boîte E-mail.
Je vous remercie pour votre confiance et je vous dis à très vite !
Alexandra P.
Ils ont donné leur avis !
Et je les remercie….
|
French
|
NL
|
7c5b66eedcbfb21cd5616505fb845a2b988295d5029825c3bfcc20bff6ea960c
|
LEME-HEBUTERNE Kristiane
Docteur en Histoire de l'Art, thèse menée sous la direction de Mme Anne Prache, Kristiane LEME-HEBUTERNE est chercheur rattachée au Laboratoire d'Archéologie et d'Histoire Médiévales de l'Université de Picardie-Jules Verne. Elle fait partie du groupe de recherche SALVE, dirigé par Hélène Millet, qui mène le Programme Fasti Ecclesiae Gallicanae. Elle est Secrétaire perpétuelle de la Société des Antiquaires de Picardie et Présidente de l'association Stalles de Picardie, dont l’étude l’intéresse tout particulièrement. Elle fait également partie de l'association internationale des Danses Macabres d'Europe.
|
French
|
NL
|
aeb8662b29d5eef5c136f23f7b29f84552ee371221899994ed73ac2951419776
|
m (G.begon a déplacé la page Concentration de la lumière vers Lumière : Concentration de la lumière)
(Aucune différence)
La loupe concentre les rayons du soleil en un point relativement petit au bout de quelques minutes, la feuille se met à chauffer jusqu'à roussir. Avec suffisamment de patience, on peut même arriver jusqu'à la température de combustion du papier.
De ce fait, l'énergie reçue par ce point augmente et la température de la feuille peut s'élever jusqu'à son point de combustion.
Draft
|
French
|
NL
|
23004a3f7188ef39fa7566190b3681ceb62c77e28e318ec1737bba21fd1fa719
|
La datation par le rubidium-strontium est une technique de datation Commrnt la formation dune roche. La datation par le potassium-argon (ou K-Ar) est une méthode de datation radiométrique qui permet de déterminer lâge dun échantillon de roche par Comment faire ? Plus de vidéos et dexercices gratuits sur.
Un examen attentif montre que les fossiles diffèrent dune strate à lautre. Techniques radiométriques de rencontres en ligne français Guy. La datation radiométrique dépend en général de trois grandes suppositions : 1.
On considère ici un échantillon de masse m dune roche à dater. Une explication qui montre Comment déterminer l’âge d’une roche en utilisant la datation radiométrique les scientifiques utilisent la radioactivité.
B. La datation absolue, en donnant accès à lâge des roches et des fossiles permet de mesurer les durées des phénomènes. Plus tard, les physiciens ont pu apporter aux géologues des méthodes de datation absolue des roches qui se basent sur la radioactivité et.
Dans le cas dune roche initialement dégazée et isolée de largon atmosphérique dans laquelle on. Terre se succèdent. Nom. Date. chimiques htilisant dans les roches en est grandement facilitée. En géologie ou en paléontologie, on arrive à déterminer lâge des fossiles à partir. On entend souvent parler de la technique de datation au carbone -14. Programmer la cellule L11 en utilisant la formule chronométrique.
La datation radiométrique est lune des méthodes les plus. Comment, en si peu de temps, autant de restes dêtres vivants ont-ils pu.
Avant la découverte de la radioactivité, Lord Kelvin avait estimé lâge de la. En utilisant cette méthode, on suppose quil ny avait pas disotope fils dargon Il faut bien être conscient quil est très rare de pouvoir connaître avec certitude lâge réel dune roche. Le point délicat consiste à déterminer précisément les conditions de cette. On dispose ici dune équation à 2 inconnues (87Sr0 et t) et même avec.
Pour déterminer lâge dun échantillon, il faut définir linstant 0 de sa. Ces derniers, vieux de parfois moins de 500 ka peuvent être dune taille inférieure à 300 µm. Si lon réduit lhistoire de la Terre de 5 milliards dannées a la durée dune. Comment les archéologues font-ils pour connaître lâge de ces reliques du passé ? Le carbone 14 sert à déterminer lâge de la matière. Le problème, cest quil faut que la roche ait conservé ses éléments.
Datations. Datation sur minéraux / roche totale Permet de déterminer la Fig.1 : tracé dune isochrone dans le système radiochronologique Rb - Sr. De nos jours, nous disposons de deux méthodes pour déterminer lâge des. Le développement de la radiochronologie est intimement lié à la recherche de lâge de la Terre.
A chaque fois quil est question de datation de roches ou dautres. Lâge dune roche, ou datation absolue. Une étude radiochronologique dune roche se base généralement. Datation absolue et datation relative Les méthodes de datation. Pour faire de la géologie cest pareil, il faut pouvoir déterminer lâge des roches.
Comment déterminer l’âge d’une roche en utilisant la datation radiométrique7
Le principe de la datation est dutiliser un élément radioactif, le rubidium, et de. On peut donc dater avec cette méthode des roches comme le granite. Ajouté par clipediaComment la radioactivité aide-t-elle les archéologues ? La méthode potassium-argon (K-Ar) est une méthode de datation isotopique mise.
Deux démarches sont alors suivies : lune utilisant le chauffage par palier de. Cet outil, la datation radiométrique, utilise certains éléments chimiques qui ont la. Les roches Calculer lâge de ces cailloux. On peut déterminer lâge dune roche contenant de luranium en mesurant la. Vous vous demandez peut-être comment on sait que le fossile est âgé dun demi-million dannées.
En revanche, la datation absolue permet de connaître lâge chiffré dune roche ou dun fossile. A. Développement dune solution expérimentale pour la calibration. En 1655, larchevêque anglican James Ussher calcule lâge de la Terre en.
Comment sont réalisées ces analyses ? I. Rutherford et les principes de déterniner datation radioactive (datation absolue).
All comments
|
French
|
NL
|
9ae7bdd4194bcc521d0b592f04905e2a211abb2837c6a2443135b1cadf88dac6
|
D’après une étude réalisée auprès de nos confrères et auprès d’organismes certificateurs, les non-conformités les plus courantes relevées à ce jour concerne les indicateurs 1, 6 et 26.
Indicateur 1 : L’indicateur 1 concerne les programmes de formation. Les non-conformités constatées sont principalement relatives à l’absence de certaines rubriques obligatoires ou à l’absence d’une date de mise à jour du document. La rubrique la plus souvent absente concerne « l’accessibilité aux personnes handicapées ».
Indicateur 6 : L’indicateur 6 concerne les déroulés pédagogiques des formations. Les non-conformités constatées sont relatives à l’absence de déroulés pédagogiques, ou à l’absence de séquences chronologiques dans les déroulés pédagogiques.
En effet, pour répondre à l’exigence de cet indicateur, l’organisme de formation doit détailler le contenu de la formation sous forme de séquence, en y intégrant une notion de durée.
Indicateur 26 : L’indicateur 26 concerne la mobilisation d’un réseau d’experts permettant d’accueillir des personnes en situation de handicap. Les non-conformités observées sont relatives à l’absence d’identification d’un « réel » réseau. Il ne suffit pas de lister des organismes capables d’accompagner l’organisme, mais il faut prouver que ce réseau est identifié et mobilisable.
Concrètement, il faut être capable de démontrer que les contacts sont établis, que des échanges ont eu lieu avec ces organismes et que l’OF est en mesure de mobiliser ce réseau le cas échéant.
Pour en savoir plus sur les non-conformités les plus courantes, ou bénéficier des conseils d’organismes audités, vous pouvez télécharger le E-book : « Retours d’un audit ».
|
French
|
NL
|
5aea762868837b76e4cfa5ff9b2958858f528abdc51031058784a632b73b569b
|
Le coussin orthopédique, pour dire adieu aux douleurs
4 septembre 2020
Le corps humain est loin d’être une machine. Et cette affirmation est très loin de perdre tout son sens, dans la mesure où l’on peut s’apercevoir les pertes d’attention au courant de la journée; les absences. Le corps humain se doit un peu de repos, un moment voire même plusieurs, pour s’accorder une pause. Et il est bien entendu, que le repos tant recherché et sans aucun doute bien mérité se fasse sur un accessoire noble. Je vous propose d’essayer le coussin orthopédique, un bon coussin pour se reposer. La plupart des coussins sont juste ordinaires, sans aucune spécificité. La finalité de tout ceci, c’est bien sûr des maux et de grosses douleurs sur tout le corps pour les plus fragiles, au moment du réveil. Pour éviter tous ces désagréments, il est possible de faire appel à des coussins spéciaux, des coussins orthopédiques donc, qui peuvent venir en aide et soulager les personnes fragiles.
Les coussins orthopédiques, des coussins qui vous permettent de mieux dormir
Les coussins orthopédiques, sont ces coussins qui vont venir favoriser la qualité de votre sommeil, mais alors, de manière drastique, de manière hautement significative. Avec ces coussins, vous avez un meilleur soutien, au niveau de votre articulation principale, tout dépend de la zone sur laquelle vous utilisez le coussin en question. Alors, que ce soit au niveau de la nuque et donc du cou, ou encore que ce soit au niveau de la colonne vertébrale, vous avez le meilleur des soutiens, pour avoir un confort pendant le sommeil, inégalé. Il faut rappeler que les douleurs au réveil sont dus à une mauvaise position prise au cours du moment de repos. Ceci peut entrainer donc des désagréments physiques, voir même une psychose, au moment de s’endormir. Mais ceci est terminé, avec l’acquisition que j’espère que vous ferez, pour vous et pour votre corps.
Les autres méthodes qui peuvent permettre un sommeil de qualité ?
Le fait de s’acheter un coussin d’orthopédie, ne peut pas forcément vous garantir le meilleur des sommeils. Il va y contribuer certes, mais pour mettre toutes les chances de votre côté vous devez faire en sorte de prendre d’autres mesures. Ces mesures sont naturelles. Vous pouvez par exemple prendre le temps de boire un thé ou une infusion pour vous détendre avant de vous allonger. Aussi, la lecture, sur du papier et non sur des écrans, peut vous apaiser et préparer votre corps, mais aussi votre esprit à vous coucher le plus paisiblement possible.
|
French
|
NL
|
1282290fe74aaf7dc665705a83f78dd6d15ed863b0e3bcd52d8c2c8135a386fc
|
Cette année, l’ARO (Association pour la Recherche en Otolaryngologie) a souhaité saluer les travaux du Pr Christine Petit en lui remettant la très haute distinction qu’est la médaille de l’ARO (Award of Merit). Ce Prix international prestigieux créé en 1978 est attribué en reconnaissance de contributions scientifiques et/ou médicales remarquables dans le domaine de l’audition.
Docteur en médecine et Docteur es-sciences, Christine Petit s’est attachée à la compréhension de processus biologiques via l’exploration de leurs bases génétiques : différenciation cellulaire, déterminisme sexuel, développement et fonctionnement des systèmes sensoriels (olfaction, audition et dans une moindre mesure vision). Dès le milieu des années quatre-vingt, sa démarche s’appuie sur l’étude de leurs dysfonctionnements héréditaires chez l’homme, devenue réalisable grâce aux avancées de la génomique.
Très vite, la scientifique initie des collaborations internationales, et ouvre la voie au déchiffrage des bases génétiques de l’audition et de la surdité. En 2002, Christine Petit est nommée professeur au Collège de France, titulaire de la chaire Génétique et physiologie cellulaire”.
Au début des années quatre-vingt-dix, elle résout les difficultés qui faisaient obstacle à l’analyse génétique des surdités héréditaires. A l’Institut Pasteur, elle découvre ainsi plusieurs dizaines de gènes responsables de surdité. En s’appuyant sur ces gènes, elle déchiffre le fonctionnement à l’échelle moléculaire de l’organe sensoriel auditif, la cochlée, et en parallèle met au jour les mécanismes défectueux cellulaires et moléculaires à l’origine d’un grand nombre de surdités. La connaissance du système auditif normal et pathologique connaît alors une accélération sans précédent. Le diagnostic moléculaire des surdités est progressivement mis à disposition des malentendants. L’exploration de pistes thérapeutiques devient possible, au premier rang desquelles, la thérapie génique. Tel est l’objectif des travaux qu’elle mène aujourd’hui à l’Institut Pasteur avec son collègue, Saaïd Safieddine.
Christine Petit intervient dans le monde entier en tant qu’experte en neurosciences sensorielles et génétique moléculaire humaine. Elle a ainsi œuvré au niveau européen en créant un consortium, EuroHear, composé non seulement de généticiens, mais aussi de biophysiciens, électrophysiologistes, biochimistes et biologistes cellulaires, plaçant alors la recherche européenne du domaine au premier rang mondial.
Porteuse d’un grand projet visant à doter la France d’une structure de recherche interdisciplinaire en neurosciences auditives associée à un centre de recherche clinique et d’innovation en audiologie, sa passion et sa force de conviction ont rencontré celles d’un mécène, dont le généreux soutien a permis l’initiation de ce projet. C’est ainsi que l’Institut de l’Audition situé en plein cœur de Paris, qu’elle dirigera, ouvrira ses portes en 2019.
Christine Petit saluée par la communauté scientifique internationale :
- Prix L’Oréal-UNESCO “Pour les Femmes et la Science” – Prix européen (2004)
- Prix «Recherche et Médecine» de l’INSERM (2004)
- Prix Bristol-Myers-Squibb “Liberté de découvrir” en Neuroscience – Prix américain (2005)
- Prix Louis-Jeantet de Médecine – Prix européen (2006)
- Le Grand Prix INSERM (2007)
- Prix de Recherche Médicale de la Fondation Pasarow – Prix américain (2012)
- ” The Brain Prize” Prix Scientifique International avec Karen Steel (2012)
- Prix Hughes Knowles – Prix américain (2015)
- Élue à l’Académie des Sciences de France (2002)
- Élue à l’Académie Nationale de Médecine des Etats-Unis en tant qu’associé étranger (2011)
- Élue à l’Académie Nationale des Sciences des Etats-Unis en tant qu’associé étranger (2016)
En savoir plus sur la Fondation Pour l’Audition :
La Fondation Pour l’Audition est reconnue d’utilité publique depuis 2016. Elle a pour ambition de fédérer des talents dans le but de faire progresser la cause de l’audition et aider les personnes sourdes et malentendantes à mieux vivre au quotidien.
La Fondation agit POUR les enfants, les hommes et les femmes concernés par un trouble de l’audition :
-Pour les aider à bien vivre, au quotidien, dès la naissance et tout au long de la vie.
-Pour favoriser leur intégration dans la société, en garantissant l’égalité des chances.
-Pour qu’ils bénéficient des meilleures solutions thérapeutiques.
Pour atteindre ces objectifs, la mission de la Fondation est double : soutenir la recherche et l’innovation afin d’incarner d’autres possibles et ainsi faire avancer la cause, ainsi que mobiliser l’opinion à travers la prévention et la sensibilisation pour protéger le capital auditif de chacun.
L’Institut de l’audition est un projet stratégique de la Fondation Pour l’Audition dont l’ouverture est prévue début 2019. Au cœur, de Paris, l’Institut de l’audition, dirigé par le Professeur Christine Petit sera adossé à un centre de recherche clinique en audiologie. Ce premier pôle de recherche fondamentale et clinique a été pensé comme un accélérateur qui rassemble la recherche translationnelle et les cliniciens pour fédérer les talents internationaux et apporter plus rapidement des solutions innovantes pour tous.
Contacts presse : MY RP BY BPFCONSEIL
Béatrice Parrinello-Froment – email@example.com – 06 63 72 16 06
Justine Germond – firstname.lastname@example.org – 06 30 19 79 77
|
French
|
NL
|
f1384741d09483a5a4bedf281a35da5cfb8312fd4486740a57a8e46d7fe7e904
|
Hunter Hoffman, un psychologue cognitif, cherchait simplement des moyens d'aider ses patients à faire face à leur arachnophobie. En collaboration avec une équipe de geeks informatiques, il a aidé à inventer un jeu de réalité virtuelle (VR) appelé SpiderWorld. Dans le jeu, les patients mettent un ensemble de lunettes et se retrouvent à travers une pièce d'une araignée. Ils sont capables d'approcher l'araignée à leur propre rythme jusqu'à ce qu'ils puissent se tenir près d'elle et la toucher sans crainte. Le jeu a réussi à aider les gens à affronter et à surmonter leur phobie. Mais l'importance de la RV en tant que traitement est devenue beaucoup plus grande.
Le Dr Hoffman a commencé à considérer la douleur atroce que les victimes de brûlures endurent lors des changements de bandage et de l'escharectomie. Un jeu avec des araignées avait réussi par peur, alors pourquoi pas quelque chose qui traitait de la douleur des blessures causées par la chaleur? Ainsi est né SnowWorld, un jeu de réalité virtuelle avec des boules de neige, des glaciers et des pingouins. Les résultats préliminaires montrent que la douleur est considérablement diminuée. Ce qui a commencé comme un petit projet de recherche personnel a explosé sur la scène scientifique et médicale en tant qu'alternative aux analgésiques lourds pour le soulagement de la douleur.
Alors, quelle est la science derrière l'utilisation de la réalité virtuelle pour la douleur et pourquoi cela fonctionne-t-il? On pense que le cerveau ne se concentre que sur le jeu ou la douleur à la fois. En substance, la VR est censée aider à rediriger ou, au moins, à distraire un de se concentrer sur son inconfort. Les patients deviennent tellement absorbés par ce monde virtuel, que leur attention est détournée de leur douleur. Une autre théorie est que, allégoriquement parlant, l’autoroute du système nerveux ne laissera passer qu’une voiture à la fois, ce qui signifie que c’est du jeu ou de la douleur. Malgré notre compréhension incomplète, la présomption est qu'ils pourraient bien être sur quelque chose.
Hoffman a utilisé la technologie pour aider les personnes profondément touchées par la tragédie du 911 avec leur trouble de stress post-traumatique (SSPT). Récemment, ce travail a été élargi pour inclure les anciens combattants de retour d'Irak et d'Afghanistan. La capacité d'aider à faire face aux blessures physiques et mentales débilitantes est inestimable pour aider ces guerriers à se réadapter.
Mais faites-le juste un pas en avant. La partie la plus excitante de cette histoire est l'implication pour les milliers de personnes qui souffrent quotidiennement de douleurs chroniques. On leur prescrit le plus souvent des analgésiques dangereux et souvent inefficaces qui ont des effets secondaires. Il est vrai que les solutions naturelles ont été examinées avec un certain succès comme la méditation, les herbes et le biofeedback. Mais imaginez l'effet étonnant de l'utilisation d'une méthode non invasive et même amusante pour vaincre le résultat invalidant de la douleur.
Instructions Vidéo: 7 Exercices Pour Soulager la Douleur Névralgique en Quelques Minutes (Novembre 2020).
Soulagement de la douleur avec VR, handicaps, douleur, réalité virtuelle, handicaps, handicapés, ESPT
|
French
|
NL
|
38a24ef0030f2c8f9c52993ac1846a64e6ee415ccbad86f14a47930309ab5687
|
Tim Allen (born Timothy Alan Dick; June 13, 1953) is an American comedian, actor, voice-over artist, and entertainer, known for his role in the sitcom Home Improvement. He is also known for his starring roles in several popular films, including the voice of Buzz Lightyear in the Toy Story film series, The Santa Clause film series, and Galaxy Quest. Allen currently stars in the ABC sitcom Last Man Standing. Allen started his career as a comedian in 1975. On a dare from one of his friends, he participated in a comedy night at a comedy club in Detroit. While in Detroit he began to get recognition appearing in local television commercials and appearing on cable comedy shows such as Gary Thison's Some Semblance of Sanity. He later moved to Los Angeles and became a member of The Comedy Store there. He began to do stand-up appearances on late-night talk shows and specials on record and film. Allen rose to fame in acting with the television series Home Improvement (1991–1999) produced for ABC by Wind Dancer Productions, a company he co-founded with producer Carmen Finestra. Allen played Tim "The Tool-Man" Taylor. During one week in November 1994, he simultaneously starred in the highest grossing film (The Santa Clause), topped the New York Times best-seller list with his book Don't Stand Too Close to a Naked Man, and appeared in the top rated television series (Home Improvement). The following year, he provided the voice of Buzz Lightyear in the blockbuster Toy Story. Simultaneous with his time acting in Home Improvement, Allen formed a race team with Steve Saleen and race driver Bob Bondurant, called the Saleen/Allen "RRR" Speedlab. The team raced Saleen Mustangs in the SCCA World Challenge, with Allen and Saleen as the team's drivers. In 1997 he starred in the family comedy Jungle 2 Jungle from Disney. The film was poorly received by critics. The next year marked the final year of Home Improvement, for which he was paid $1.25 million per episode. The next year he returned to voice Buzz Lightyear in Toy Story 2 which was a financial and critical hit. Also in 2000 he starred in the sci-fi parody Galaxy Quest alongside Sigourney Weaver, Alan Rickman and Sam Rockwell. The movie was a critical hit and connected with audiences as well. In 2003 he had a cameo as Seann William Scott's father in American Wedding. In 2006, Zoom was released, featuring Allen as Jack Shepard. The same year, he also starred in The Santa Clause 3 and The Shaggy Dog. Allen began narrating the "Pure Michigan" television and radio commercials for the "Travel Michigan" agency. These commercials can be seen and heard throughout the Midwest and began airing nationally in 2009. In December 2009, Allen started a preview tour of Crazy on the Outside, a film that debuted in January 2010. Allen accompanied the film, helping promote it with a series of stand-up acts beforehand. During the performances he told audiences that he planned a 2010 comedy tour. Allen also directed the film, marking his film directorial debut. Allen hosted the 8th Annual TV Land Awards on April 25, 2010. As of September 2010, Tim Allen is the official voice of the Chevrolet Cruze, narrating commercials for the vehicle. Also in September 2010, Allen was named the voice of Campbell Soup's new "It's Amazing What Soup Can Do" campaign. As of 2011, Allen currently stars in the ABC sitcom Last Man Standing. He plays the role of Mike Baxter, a dad who is fighting for his manhood in his house filled with women.
Timothy Alan Dick
|
English
|
NL
|
bb1cdf797706a121d5d2148b67ec2e1d51b889de51f66ecf49bca4fbc062d94f
|
"Thomas, called Didymus, one of the Twelve, was not with them when Jesus came. So the other disciples said to him, 'We have seen the Lord.' But he said to them, 'Unless I see the mark of the nails in his hands and put my finger into the nailmarks and put my hand into his side, I will not believe.'” Jn 20: 27-29
We wonder about Thomas. Is he "all of us," full of doubts that inhibit our relationship with God and most of the people in our lives? Is he our stubborn younger brother or sister who was spoiled as a baby and still resists change not to his or her liking? Was Jesus annoyed with Thomas for not listening to the other disciples who assured him the Lord had risen?
None of these questions is answered definitively in today's Gospel. What we can be sure of is that Jesus addresses Thomas' doubts and reminds him that others, who will not have the joy of seeing Jesus in the flesh, but who believe anyway, are blessed. That's us, at least most of the time. Born into faith filled families, most of us treasure the gift of faith, practice it and accept both its limitations and its delights. We know that faith is not intended to free us from every trial, hurt and confusion, but we also believe that faith will sustain us even at those times when life makes no sense, or we must endure suffering and loss.
The mercy of God, we learn, is always available to us no matter how often we take faith for granted or turn away from its teachings. With Thomas, we open our eyes to the work of the Lord all around us and realize how blind we have been. Even as we look, God's mercy is at work.
Today, offer mercy like God, freely and without exception.
How have you experienced God's mercy when you were struggling?
|
English
|
NL
|
66abdfc8b3351818267abdd522190c99fe282d404c4467ec7ea25eae69a53aaa
|
The Italian publication StradaNove has run a lengthy interview with me. Here is the article in Italian. Hop over there if you know Italian or to see some cool old photos, including one of John and me as kids, one of John and Lisa and my parents on the day John and Lisa got married, one of John and Dad and me, and one of John and Mom. As for the text, I'm including the entire interview in English below.
Also, if anyone can translate the introductory paragraph of the Italian article for me, I'd appreciate it. Those auto-translate programs aren't so great.
Interview with Erin O'Brien on John O'Brien
by Leonardo Moro
What is the first thing you remember about your brother?
When I was about 5, my mother made me a beanbag shaped like a frog that I called Froggy. I loved it and carried it everywhere I went. John was 10. For Christmas that year, and with the help of my father, he made a little wooden bed for my companion, complete with "Froggy" carved in the top.
Can you tell us about John’s childhood?
John was at once shy and brooding and very funny and clever. His relationship with our father was difficult and he had his share of troubles with bullies and girls. He loved to read, was compulsive about how his toys were arranged, and was curious about astronomy as well as photography. He once had a glass cutting/finishing machine. He made dozens of pencil pots with it. One fashioned from a green glass Coke bottle sits on my desk. It houses a nail file, some highlighters, a green pen, and a paring knife.
How were John's years at Lakewood High School? What kind of student was he?
John was a good student, excelling at advanced classes in English, physics, and calculus. He did not date much until his senior year. His sharp wit made him a favorite with his teachers. He was not involved in athletics, nor was he one of the popular set. He was a member of the Latin Club, which was unusually popular at LHS. I was also a member and still keep in touch with Emil Sors, who instructed both John and me in Latin in those years. John gave away exactly four signed copies of "Leaving Las Vegas" as gifts, one of which went to Sors. The other recipients were his then-wife Lisa, my parents, and my maternal grandmother.
I’ve read that John got married when he was just nineteen years old. Was it a good marriage?
John began dating Lisa Kirkwood soon after they graduated from Lakewood High School in 1979. They married in August 1979 and divorced in 1992. Lisa often refers to John as the love of her life, which I admire greatly as she tolerated much from John over the years due to his drinking and high-strung ways. I always felt Lisa kept John alive and I feared terribly for him when they divorced, which was per John's wishes and not Lisa's. They had no children.
Are you still in touch with John’s wife?
Absolutely. Lisa is an important part of our family. My husband and I, as well as my mother and daughter, adore her and miss her terribly. She lives 2000 miles away in Los Angeles. She comes to visit once or twice a year. We look forward to seeing her over the 2006 Christmas holiday.
What jobs did John have during his lifetime?
As a teenager, John worked bussing tables at Tony's Restaurant and Don's Lighthouse and as a mail clerk for the Winton Place Apartments, where our mother was the manager. He was also a clerk for the law firm Squires Sanders and Dempsey. All of those jobs were in Cleveland. I'm sure he held any number of jobs during his years in Los Angeles, none of which stick out in my memory save his last job, wherein he worked roasting coffee beans at Graffeo Coffee in Beverly Hills. He loved that job.
Who are the writers he liked most?
John greatly admired Bob Dylan. The three books he gave me were "The Sportswriter" by Richard Ford, "American Psycho" by Bret Easton Ellis and "A Fan's Notes" by Fred Exley. He gave our mother "Bright Lights, Big City" by Jay McInerney. He also read Don Delillo, Gore Vidal, Hunter Thompson, and Faulkner.
Did John ever work as a screenwriter?
John wrote a screenplay called "The Rest of Jackie," which was a rewrite of "Days of Wine and Roses." I do not know what became of it.
John also wrote an episode of the children's television show "Rugrats" under the pen name Carol Mine, which was the name of the main character in Stripper Lessons. Rugrats episode #37 is called "Toys in the Attic."
In 1990 a small publisher issued “Leaving Las Vegas”. Was he happy about that news?
In order to answer that, I will quote John. This is the inscription he wrote in the copy of "Leaving Las Vegas" that he gave to our maternal grandmother.
Saturday I received my first two copies; this is one of them. I want you to know how much I love you and think about you, how I've always felt a special bond between us, and how I wish that we were together right now.
20 May 1991"
Did publishers ever reject his works?
Unlike the film version, the novel "Leaving Las Vegas" opens with the scene wherein Sera is raped and sodomized by three college students. The noir nature of the text garnered rejections from the big houses, which is why it ended up at a smaller press.
Despite the favorable reviews of John's debut novel, it was not a commercial success until after his death and the making of the film. John was unable to place his other efforts, "Stripper Lessons" and an unpublished novel called "Better." The only two publications John had while alive were "Leaving Las Vegas" and the "Rugrats" episode.
John was vain to a fault about his work and took rejection and external editing very hard. The reason he used the pen name "Carol Mine" on the "Rugrats" episode was because he was furious over how the segment was edited and did not want his name associated with the project. He told me he chose the unusual pen name as he could prove it was his "because it's the name of a character in one of my manuscripts." The unpublished manuscript to which he referred was "Stripper Lessons." I have a copy of his original submission to "Rugrats" as well as a copy of the episode as it aired. I consider the edits to be completely appropriate. In my opinion, John overreacted.
How did John get in touch with the director Mike Figgis before he wrote the screenplay adaptation of John’s novel?
John and Figgis had minimal interaction. Figgis's screenplay, however, closely follows the novel. Had John lived to see the film come to fruition, however, I believe he would have taken exception to the rape scene with Sera and the college students being moved to the end of the movie. John introduced Sera with the rape scene in the front end of the novel in order to dispel accusations that her character was a clichéd "hooker with a heart of gold."
When did John start having problems with alcohol abuse?
John's drinking problem started as soon as his drinking started. By the time he was 20, he was taking a clandestine flask to work. By the time he was 26, he was chugging vodka directly from the bottle at morning's first light in order to stave off the shakes. I know. I saw him do it.
Do you think that there was a reason why he committed suicide?
I imagine John committed suicide because he no longer wanted to live.
Do you remember when he started writing? What were the first stories about?
John started writing in the late 1980's. Like his character Ben, he purged most of his possessions before committing suicide. Hence, his preliminary work is mostly lost. I have one short story he wrote in January of 1988 called "The Tik." It is replete with booze and sex and violence. In the cover letter to our parents and me, John describes it as "atypical" but also as his "personal favorite." Hence, I'm sure there were other short stories, but I don't believe he preferred that format.
In Italy “Stripper Lessons” hasn’t published yet. What is it about? When did he write it?
In Stripper Lessons, a young man named Carol Mine who works as a clerk for a law firm spends his free time worshipping the women who dance at a local strip club. I use the work "worship" very specifically. This novel is all about John O'Brien on religion. He wrote it in 1991.
Are there unpublished novels or short stories?
Just the ones I've mentioned herein.
You gave a valuable contribution to “The Assault on Tony’s”. Do you want to tell us about it?
This is a very difficult topic for me. I am at work on a memoir in which I talk at great length about "Tony's." It is the novel at which John was at work at the time of his death. I contributed one chapter and an afterward to it. The afterward is honest enough, but the chapter I wrote disgusts me at every turn. The book represents the end of John's writing career and the beginning of mine. For years, John would appear in my dreams expressing disappointment over the entire project.
What was the novel about? When did he write it?
John started work on "Tony's" about a year before his death. It tells the story of a group of wealthy alcoholic men who barricade themselves inside a posh bar while race riots rage outside. John uses this fecund premise to explore the difficult relationship between John and our father. "Tony's" is primarily a psychological work.
Did John ever meet someone like Sera from "Leaving Las Vegas?"
The question of whether or not Sera was based on a living person remains forever unanswered. John did make any number of trips to Las Vegas while researching the novel. I don't know if those trips included interviews with prostitutes.
The more I muse on Sera, however, the more I believe her to be purely fictional. She is John's representation of a cleansing angel. She is often described as a fantasy hooker, but very few note that Ben and Sera never consummate their relationship. Sera is a figurative virgin when Ben dies at the end of the work. I love the poetic irony of her character. She is at once pure from sin and sullied with it. Furthermore, both permutations are completely earned and plausible. Kudos, John.
How autobiographical is the character of Ben?
John surely projected his own severe alcohol addiction onto Ben. But Ben's death was much more poetic than John's. John died alone in a barren apartment from a self-inflicted gunshot wound to the head. I suspect John would have liked to be more like his character, whom Cage once described as having a sort of "crumbling elegance." But fictional characters are limited by the two dimensions that define them. John was a whole man with a past and a future. He tried to quit drinking many times. He had more fame ahead of him than most writers ever dream of. As for those of us John left behind, the profound grief we walked through after his death erased the last twisted shred of innocence our family had.
Are John’s works popular in the U.S.? Do American people like them?
I do not track John's sales. As for the American people, I don't understand how any of them could possibly like George Bush. Nonetheless, he is president. Goes to show you what I know.
Have his books been translated in other languages?
I have copies of "Leaving Las Vegas" in Japanese, German, Spanish, Italian, Portuguese, and Norsk. There are likely other editions of which I am unaware. No foreign rights for "The Assault on Tony's" or "Stripper Lessons" were ever sold.
I’ve heard that you released a book of yours not long ago. Do you want to talk about it?
My first novel, "Harvey & Eck," was also published by a small independent house (Zumaya Publications) in 2005. Ironically, my book is about the period of time that precludes life, whereas "Leaving Las Vegas" is about the prelude to death. Whenever I make that assertion, I hear John chortling from his papery grave and calling me a sap under his breath while rolling his eyes.
I also write a bi-weekly column called "Rainy Day Woman" for the Cleveland Free Times (www.freetimes.com) and I maintain a blog of questionable character, "The Erin O'Brien Owner's Manual for Human Beings" (erin-obrien.blogspot.com) as well as an informational website (www.erinobrien.us). I am a writer. I write all the time.
What do you miss most about John?
His breathing and the beating of his heart.
|
English
|
NL
|
9eb513d95881823e9725730da72478e411fa22f3d80586b4b05e6ec787ab0de5
|
Clerical, Disco, Bilbo
"That roof doesn't look too sturdy." Clerical was leading the group through a collapsed building, taken down by the rioters. Bilbo asked, "We noticed. Can you tell us why we're here now?" Disco agreed, saying, "Surely there's better stuff we could be doing?" Clerical stayed silent as the trio continued to move further into the ruins. "Why don't we split up?" Bilbo suggested. Clerical nodded and they went different ways. It was eerily silent now; Disco could hear his own cold breath. He didn't know what he was looking for, so he sat down when he was out of sight. He got out his water bottle and took a sip; he was really thirsty from all of this exploring. He wondered what the others were doing; probably looking. But he didn't want to. He wanted to know why they were here, and not doing something more productive. It took a while before he noticed the knife at his throat. He froze, and heard a whisper in his ear. "Don't make a sound." He instinctively shouted, "Help!"
"Help!" Clerical heard it loud and clear; it sounded like Disco. He ran back the way he came. He heard the familiar moans and screams; the infected had found them. Luckily they sounded far away, and Clerical continued to rush to Disco's aid.
"Help!" Bilbo turned to face where the sound had come from. It was Disco; he broke into a sprint to reach him. Not soon after he stopped altogether. He heard some moans around the corner; the infected. Bilbo's path was blocked. The only way to Disco was there; or was it? He saw a big vent across the corridor, but getting up to it could be hard and noisy. The infected were also in the corridor. He decided to risk it.
Clerical reached Disco and fell to his knees. Disco lay slumped on a piece of fallen concrete, dead. Blood trickled from his neck. There were other people here. Clerical slowly and quietly stood up, leaving Disco behind for now. He heard a sound behind him, and turned on his heels. A man stood there with a knife at the ready. "Put your weapon down, and nobody gets hurt." Clerical realised he had his knife out too, but didn't put it down. The man stepped closer. "I said put it down." Clerical shook his head. The man walked right up to Clerical's face and shouted, "Put the knife down or I'll do the same to you!" He pointed at Disco's limp body with his knife; the perfect chance. Clerical grabbed the man's arms and got out some rope he'd picked up earlier, a few minutes before Disco's cry. He fumbled with it as the man tried to get free, but managed to tie the man's arms behind his back. Now he turned to a different matter; where was Bilbo?
Bilbo peered around the corner and saw two infected; they were looking the other way, so he crouch-walked across the corridor. There was a crate further down the corridor, closer to the infected. Slowly but surely he got there and began to pull it, trying to make as little noise as possible. Eventually he got the crate into place. He cringed as he climbed it; the crate was squeaking. He began to get into the vent; although it was big, it was still a tight fit for him and being in a vent in a collapsed building was a pretty bad idea. Just as he was pulling his other leg in, he heard two screams, getting closer as they went on. They'd seen him at the last moment. He crawled as fast as he could, not caring about all of the creaking. The infected knew where he was, silence wasn't an option anymore, only escape. Eventually more creaking joined his; they'd gotten in. He continued along the vent blindly until he found another exit. He punched the little grate off and dropped to the ground. He went into a sprint as he heard more screaming, this time human. He heard the infected drop to the ground behind him. They were gaining. He reached the human screams and saw alot, but didn't have time to process it all. He saw Clerical and shouted, "Infected!" They both began to run, leaving behind everything else.
The infected ran after them, stumbling a little, but keeping up. Clerical and Bilbo reached a set of double doors and slammed them shut behind them. They leaned on the doors to keep them shut as the infected reached them. Everything became silent for a few seconds. Bilbo began to rise a little, so as to check if they had left, but Clerical urgently ushered him back down. The door knobs began to turn. Faint moans were heard on the other sides of the doors. Clerical tried to grab a plank of wood nearby, but it was not quite close enough. He reached out further, and grabbed the plank of wood. The infected screamed; Clerical had leaned out quite far and the door had opened slightly. This was enough to set off the infected again, reaching their bloody hands in. Clerical threw himself back against the door, but the hands were in the way. He tried again, and he heard the disgusting sound of a hand falling off. The door slammed shut and Clerical raised his hands above his head, blindly putting the plank into place. Clerical looked at Bilbo, and Bilbo looked at Clerical. Clerical looked down at his hand; it was covered in blood. Bilbo didn't need to look down to know what had happened; he was infected. He said, "Blood to blood contact. I'm screwed..." Clerical shook his head in disbelief; he'd know Bilbo for so long. "I won't let you die. I can save you!" Bilbo shook his head, replying, "It's over. Nothing can stop me now, so take my stuff and go." Clerical's eyes widened and he shouted, accompanied by more infected screams, "No, I really can! Haven't you heard about the cure?" A look of wonder crossed Bilbo's face. "There's a cure?!" Clerical nodded. "Your TV lines probably went down before mine. It was broadcast, overriding everything else. Scientists have a cure. It was dispatched to every doctor and every hospital it could be dispatched to. There's an overrun clinic round the corner from here. All we need to do is get out, find that clinic and get the medicine." Bilbo laughed and said, "That's great! ...wait, overrun?" Clerical looked glum and nodded. "I saw it on the way in. There must be at least 10 of them in there. But... they won't be attracted to you! You're already infected, so they won't try to get you, right?" Bilbo shrugged his shoulders. He didn't know. "How long does it take for the infection to start taking over?" Clerical replied with, "About 24 hours?" Bilbo smiled and said, "Well, let's get some sleep first."
|
English
|
NL
|
a0813d6d4aeb431a3fee0f90757e75ef0673a2cb64335e6125f26dfdcb86fdb1
|
Process of Elimination
By: James Hughes
About the Book
Process of Elimination is about a young man who has suffered a terrible loss, one that has crippled him emotionally for months. In the book, he grieves and searches for a reason to resume his life, until he is seized by an idea that gives him a reason to face each day and the motivation to start living his life again: he is going to even the score.
About the Author
Author James Hughes has always enjoyed reading and writing. Growing up he especially enjoyed the writings of O. Henry (real name William Sydney Porter). He liked the unique twists and surprise endings to his stories. While working as a career engineer, Hughes was required to write about the many military systems he worked on, but these were mostly factual accounts and reports about those systems. It was writing, but not the kind he had in mind.
Process of Elimination was written over several years, starting first in Hughes’ mind before he tried to put it all down in words. He would write for periods of time, let it lay for months, and then would again attempt to flesh out the story as new ideas and thoughts came to him to add to the narrative. In July of 2018, he decided that had said all he wanted to say in Process of Elimination, his attempt at an O. Henry-inspired story.
(2019, Paperback, 48 pages)
|
English
|
NL
|
784ba850e482dcd35e4688d74a4bad01cb633327ebd5c521473df8f395ae755c
|
Walker of Parks
Nanda, it’s getting late. Are you leaving work soon?
Nanda… She hated it when they called her that – it sounded so local. She had thought she would have outgrown it by now but the world was not a wish granting factory. She had learnt that by now. Doesn’t mean she had to like it.
Yes, shutting down in five minutes. Meet you in a few.
Angela could handle pretty much anything except leaving town late on weekdays. She couldn’t afford to take a cab every day of the week, so she focused on what she could – leaving office early so that she wouldn’t have to be in the park after dark. Nanda had been getting taxis from paaka enkadde for as long as she could remember so she was used to it.
Men old enough to be her father/grandfather dying to touch a piece of her skin, shouting how she was their size, looking at her as though she was naked. She couldn’t remember the last time she had cringed when she heard the ‘sister sister’ calls and whistling that usually came with it. In her defense, it wasn’t intentional. It was one of the things that simply happened.
One day she went to the park, and she didn’t feel insulted by their actions. She had too many battles to fight so she had let that one go.
Angela, on the other hand, couldn’t take it. It’s not that Nanda hoped she would one day get used to it as well, because that had its implications but she feared for her. It would have been easier for her if she did though. Somehow, the universe had led them to each other, and that they stayed on the same side of town was nothing short of a miracle.
Although if she had to, she would have escorted Angela all the way to her home even if they stayed in opposite directions. She loved her that much, and any little thing she could do, she would.
Nanda was many things, and an optimist wasn’t one of them, but sometimes she couldn’t help but wonder. Wonder what a life without catcalling from men would be like. Whether there would ever be a generation of girls that didn’t fear going to the taxi park by themselves because of the reality of being harassed by men from all walks of life. If she would always be there to walk with Angela through the park, and give whatever little comfort that came it.
It probably didn’t help that the employment situation was in shambles, so the chance of Angela upgrading from the taxi life any time soon was a probability that needed to be estimated by experts. But that was a story for another day.
None of it mattered at that moment anyway, so she did the only thing that did. She shut down her computer and went to meet Angela. To walk her through the taxi park. The comedian in her thought about making a career out of that, walking ladies through the taxi park. And when she died, on her grave they would write “Walker of Parks”.
She smiled. She had long ago stopped questioning smiles – if it made you want to smile, you smiled. Lord knows she needed more smiles in her life.
|
English
|
NL
|
e29898d8b1c9c235839c56a3916d53561bcc9d57dce1da03bb5bbee246c6c007
|
Focus My Son
A reader commented on the financial problems he was having making it difficult to accomplish spiritual work.
First, let me say that I have been where you are and worse and have empathy with you.
It is often a difficult challenge for creative and spiritually minded people to meet their needs on the material plane. Indeed this is the very reason that many disciples who have incarnated to assist in the bringing forth of the kingdom of God are neutralized.
Earlier in my life I found myself in and out of awkward situations such as is happening to you until I made a discovery. I discovered that I was trapped in an illusion.
And what illusion was that?
Because I saw myself as being on the spiritual path I felt that spiritual and creative aspiration must come first. The problem with this though was that it did not work for me. Whenever I applied myself spiritually my physical world fell apart to the extent that I had to forgo all things spiritual and concentrate on the material, which thing I found to be very frustrating.
After much wasted time, pain and distress to me and my family I finally went into contemplation deep with an open heart to any answer and here is what came to me.
My approach may have been fine for the passing age, but we are entering a new age with new lines of approach with new emphasis and in this age a balance must be achieved between God and mammon, the spiritual and the physical.
My soul thus told me to shift my physical emphasis from the creative and the spiritual to physical reality and develop and means to become self sufficient. Concentrate on this with a one-pointedness until I can at least take care of myself and then shift attention back to the spiritual work.
Making this shift was one of the most difficult things of my life but when I made a definite decision and followed the inner voice I felt a tremendous peace and this confirmed that I had made the right decision.
I therefore, found myself putting my energies on my weakest point, for monetary matters and business was my most fragile point, but I have learned since that the soul is more interested in us developing that which is weakest within us more that displaying that which is strongest.
Now just because I followed my soul here that does not mean I had a easy time of it. I resisted this message from my soul for 20 years of my life and after I finally yielded it took ten years of struggle to get in the position where I needed to be. In many ways I feel I needed to work twice as hard as the average person because I was working where my ability was weak.
Now I feel that that which was weakest within me is becoming my strength and that I hope to do some productive things in the business world in the near future – balancing the spiritual and the material.
I rejoice now that I followed my soul because if I had not I would have not had the means to publish the Immortal. It would probably be sitting on my desk gathering dust awaiting some magical financial gift that would never appear.
So, I’m not saying that you have the same path as myself, but I give you my experience as a point of meditation for you. No matter what your situation there is always a way out. What I have found in my life is that the way out as shown me by my soul is often the last choice of my individual self.
I was asked to elaborate on the word “rent” as it is used in the Bible.
First, here are two scriptures where the word is used:
“Then the high priest rent his clothes, saying, He hath spoken blasphemy; what further need have we of witnesses? behold, now ye have heard his blasphemy.” Matt 26:65
“And Jesus cried with a loud voice, and gave up the ghost. And the veil of the temple was rent in twain from the top to the bottom.” Mark 15:37-38
In ancient times when people felt more emotion or outrage than they could express in words they “rent their clothes.” Sometimes they would actually tear them and other times they would just rip their robe off or partially off.
Thus when Jesus indicated that he was the Son of God the High priest felt more outrage than he could express so he tore off his robe to express his emotion.
The most profound use of this word was the description of the renting (ripping) of the veil of the temple at the apparent death of Jesus. This is symbolic of the outrage from heaven itself. That the crucifixion of one as holy as Jesus by those he was only seeking to serve was beyond words to express, even for God.
This renting of the veil has several other meanings one of them being that the veil between heaven and earth was rent so the path is paved for communion between the two.
Craig writes: Hi Judes, My brother lives across the river from you in Vancouver, WA. I haven’t seen him in 3 years. If you see this fat, ugly, short, a few milk duds short of a full box looking guy, tell him I said hi.
JJ: You apparently have several lost brothers running around here in Boise. One of them came in our office today. I asked him if his brother was Craig, but he said his brother was an only child.
To add to the humor, I see that a reader has been sending e-mails to some of the group so I thought I would surf over to his group to see what has been going on there. Most of it is standard “warnings about the end” type of stuff except for an interesting exchange initiated by our Brian who is a member of Both groups. Brian asked him point blank if he thought he was God. He dodged the answer for several posts but Brian wouldn’t back down and the reader finally admitted that he thought he was.
Then a funny thing happened. A new member showed up and he declared himself to be the real God, plus a number of larger than life historical characters. After this another member posted a hint that he was such a great being that the truth would put God to shame and blow people’s minds if they only knew.
The scriptures tell us that “like attracts like” so I guess it stands to reason that one who sees himself as the God of the planet would attract some competition.
The real truth is that Xavier is the God of the galaxy so if any of these other gods get out of hand we’ll petition our French majesty to wave his little finger.
(Note: Xavier has been quiet lately. I thought this might wake him up).
Actually, I would have never brought up this God thing with our reader if he hadn’t attacked our friend, Rick and made an overt attempt to humiliate him.
Someone asked about recommended books to read and John suggested reading the archives first. That is good guidance for the teachings there do lay a foundation for much of what is to come in our discussions. So I agree. The archive reading should be a top priority.
In addition there are many good books out there. I believe the highest writings available are those of Alice A. bailey, but they are very technical and difficult reading for many. There are several others that are easy reading yet still teach profound truths.
High on my group would be The Aquarian Gospel of Jesus the Christ by Levi. You can download this free of charge from the web order the hard copy from Amazon.com.
A good general course on metaphysics that is very easy reading are the Teachings of the Masters of the Far East by Baird Spaulding. Even though the story part may be fictionalized the teachings are very good. The only teaching I disagree with is the account of the creation, but it is all interesting reading nonetheless.
As I mentioned earlier Secret Places of the Lion by George Hunt Williamson is also very fascinating and contains much that is true.
Neville is also one who puts some interesting truths in to books that are easy reading. He just goes by the one name.
A Course In Miracles is a good primer for the first two initiations, but if not read in the light of the soul it can lead to many illusions.
I haven’t had time to read much the past ten years, but have listened to some books on tape. I haven’t seen much come forward since the Course in Miracles that I would say teaches anything new or unique. The Celestine Prophecy presented old material in a new twist and Conversations with God (or Conversations with the Subconscious) has material that has been presented many times over. A lot of it is right out of the Seth books.
And speaking of channeled material – most of it I have read is just a rehash of outworn material. Sometimes they throw in some new vocabulary which is easy to make up.
The Seth books by Jane Roberts (which are channeled), though far from infallible, is very interesting and provides some good seed thoughts.
I’ve also enjoyed Ruth Montgomery’s books. She is the one who popularized the idea of “walk-ins.”
All the highest material is given through the “science of impression” through the Oneness Principle, or by mental telepathy.
Also do not overlook the scriptures of the world, especially the Bible. Many hidden truths lie in those pages which are often overlooked in the world of metaphysics. I do not think any writer in modern times has matched the profoundness of Isaiah or the words of Jesus.
March 30, 2000
Copyright by J J Dewey
JJ’s Amazon page HERE
Gather with JJ on Facebook HERE
|
English
|
NL
|
a879e9c70ee7acdb293082a7cb2f81383a86ac615727a7588f9c4a7359ba3a23
|
Christopher Rouse is best known for his large body of concertos and symphonic works. He has been described as "the Stephen King of composition," since many of his works from the late 1980s and early 1990s dealt with issues of death, horror, tragedy, and mythology. Rouse's music is dramatic in an almost Mahlerian sense -- a side effect of which seems to be that his music is the loudest and boldest of his time. One orchestra playing his music called in OSHA because orchestra members thought the volume level was too loud and, therefore, unsafe. That said, Rouse has written some of the most beautiful and touching music of any composer of the twentieth and twenty-first centuries. A New York Times article stated, "Rouse has written some of the most anguished, most memorable music around."
Rouse started out at as a rock & roll drummer. However, It was not long until his love for classical composing took over and he enrolled in the Oberlin Conservatory. Having received a degree in composition in 1971, he began his graduate work at Cornell University. In 1971 and 1972, Rouse won Student Composer Awards from BMI and in 1976, he received a fellowship from the National Endowment for the Arts. He received his doctor of musical arts degree from Cornell in 1977.
Accepted to the University of Michigan Society of Fellows, Rouse taught composition there from 1978 to 1981 and was the recipient of a Rockefeller Grant. When that position was over, he began teaching at the Eastman School of Music. In 1982, Rouse received a commission from the Boston Musica Viva. This signified the beginning of his professional career, and it was after this that he began to write his most important works.
Rouse, noticing at the time that many American composers were writing pieces that were entirely Adagio in nature, accepted a commission in 1984 from the Rochester Philharmonic. Gorgon, based on the mythological creatures, turned out to be a four-movement piece in which all of the movements are in a fast tempo. This prompted Rouse's reputation for being a fast and loud composer.
The year 1986 marked the completion of a three-movement work Phantasmata that was premiered by the Saint Louis Symphony with Leonard Slatkin conducting, and Rouse began a post as composer-in-residence with the Baltimore Symphony that lasted until 1989. The orchestra premiered his Symphony No. 1 in 1988 which received a Kennedy Center Friedheim Award. On the coattails of this honor, Rouse wrote pieces for the Houston Symphony Orchestra, violinist Cho-Liang Lin, and the Aspen Festival Orchestra, and a Trombone Concerto for the New York Philharmonic, which was awarded the 1993 Pulitzer Prize in music. Having secured a reputation as one of the United States' most sought-after and respected composers, Rouse began the next phase of his career writing concertos for the most admired soloists in classical music, including cellist Yo-Yo Ma, flutist Carol Wincenc, percussionist Evelyn Glennie, soprano Dawn Upshaw, pianist Emanuel Ax, guitarist Sharon Isbin, and clarinetist Larry Combs with the Chicago Symphony Orchestra, and orchestral pieces for the likes of the St. Paul Chamber Orchestra, the Atlanta Symphony, the Dallas Symphony, and the Minnesota Orchestra, among others.
While maintaining his position at Eastman, Rouse began teaching composition at the Juilliard School in 1997 and became co-composer in residence at the Aspen Music Festival in 1999.
|
English
|
NL
|
d9bb77c79ee5b4dd1265e50eb355fc19fe3f8ada2dd5c0029cded89123108700
|
“Change is inevitable. Growth is optional.”
– John C. Maxwell
The story of how I decided to become a helping professional begins with a teacher. His family studies class inspired me to re-consider what I had planned to study. My application was filled with science programs, but I decided to add 1 more in psychology.
I hadn’t imagined myself in a psychology program, but I was happy in it. It also offered me opportunities to support others, which I enjoyed. I volunteered with an autistic child in a daycare, I mentored a student in an elementary school, and I guided a support group for university students on campus.
At this point, I recognized that I hoped to become a helping professional. My applications were filled with clinical psychology programs, but I decided to add 1 more in social work. I reflected on where I imagined myself to be and when different offers were presented to me, I chose to pursue social work. I appreciated that social work would allow me to be with others at every stage of their journey, whether it was as an observer, a guide, or an advocate.
In 2010, I graduated from a Master of Social Work program, and I became a Registered Social Worker. Since then, I have worked in different settings – medical centres, counselling agencies, schools, and communities. I have also received training focused on diversity and inclusion and attachment-based therapy.
My time in the field has taught me that change is possible when we have courage to be open to it. Our past experiences may have shaped who we are, but they don’t have to define who we can become. I believe that when we dig deeper to understand the lessons the past offers us, we can grow stronger to create change in our lives.
|
English
|
NL
|
bdf32e91db80e41253a53c9364c349c25c57deb0dfe2b5b5b3c442671d13bd38
|
September Partner Letter 2016
…”Looking unto Jesus, the author and finisher of out faith, …for consider Him who endured such hostility from sinners against Himself, lest you become weary and discouraged in your souls – Give thought to him who has undergone so much, …so that you may not be tired and feeble of purpose.” (Heb. 12:3-4)
After Mexico won her independence from Spain, Texans wanted to be liberated from Mexico and join the United States. The Alamo went from being a mission to a fortress, and Texans took their stand within her walls. The men of the Alamo knew they were fighting against the odds. Only 188 men were inside, but they included such legendary figures as Davy Crockett and Jim Bowie. These men held off nearly four thousand Mexican troops for almost two weeks.
“Remember the Alamo” later became a battle cry during Texas’ fight for independence. But there is a side to the story that many don’t know. The commander of the Alamo, Col. William Barret Travis, gathered his men together and told them they had a choice. They could leave the fort while there was still time, or they could stay and meet certain death. Then Travis unsheathed his sword, drew a line on the ground, and said these words, “Those prepared to give their lives in freedom’s cause, come over to me.” Without hesitation, every man except one – which is how we know the story – crossed the line.
Colonel James Bowie, inventor of the Bowie knife, was ill with typhoid pneumonia and couldn’t walk across the line, but he asked that his bed be carried over. All 188 men were inevitably killed, but their resistance gave Texas time to assemble an army that would eventually defeat Mexico and give Texas her independence.
We all must choose what we live for. Total commitment to Jesus is what changes everything – for there is nothing too hard for God!
What a privilege it is to work together with you! We love and value you and the precious seed that you have entrusted us with. We pray and continue to thank the Lord for your harvest in every area of your lives, as we work together to bear witness of His resurrection power in this hour! We are a part of that same crowd mentioned in Acts 4: “…With great power gave the apostles witness of the resurrection of the Lord Jesus: and great grace was upon them all.“ (Acts 4:33)
Cindy, Lois & Ray
|
English
|
NL
|
fa6c710f6fdd52eafd549ecad0eae1921f8fea9d55687aff8850d3dd8e43a54b
|
The highest forms of understanding we can achieve are laughter and human compassion.
If you want to know what a man's like, take a good look at how he treats his inferiors, not his equals.
Ninety-nine percent of who you are is invisible and untouchable.
It is no measure of health to be well adjusted to a profoundly sick society.
There are four million different kinds of animals and plants in the world. Thatís four million solutions to the problem of staying alive.
Our true nationality is mankind.
Everywhere man blames nature and fate yet his fate is mostly but the echo of his character and passion, his mistakes and his weaknesses.
Family not only need to consist of merely those whom we share blood, but also for those whom we'd give blood.
I've learned that you can tell a lot about a person by the way (s)he handles these three things: a rainy day, lost luggage, and tangled Christmas tree lights.
A person is a person because he recognizes others as persons.
Cultivation of mind should be the ultimate aim of human existence.
Of mankind we may say in general they are fickle, hypocritical, and greedy of gain.
The first time someone shows you who they are, believe them.
Dignity does not consist in possessing honours, but in deserving them.
It's funny how humans can wrap their mind around things and fit them into their version of reality.
If you talk to a man in a language he understands, that goes to his head. If you talk to him in his language, that goes to his heart.
Build a man a fire, and he'll be warm for a day. Set a man on fire, and he'll be warm for the rest of his life.
A wise man can play the part of a clown, but a clown can't play the part of a wise man.
A man has to learn that he cannot command things, but that he can command himself; that he cannot coerce the wills of others, but that he can mold and master his own will: and things serve him who serves Truth; people seek guidance of him who is master of himself.
Ever more people today have the means to live, but no meaning to live for.
|
English
|
NL
|
34e666417081bfbf2578a8a11a2898b1858298e38384a0379dffe1af5483cd75
|
Born in Melbourne Australia, today’s author R.R. Greaves now calls Sydney home. She has lived in many parts of Australia and overseas,
Greaves writes for fun with a particular interest in specific forms of erotica. Her stories have a lot of explicit detail gathered from years of hands-on experience. All have a strong element of power exchange between consenting parties. While most involve a key female character submitting to a powerful male, they have a mixture of dominant characters with women submitting to other women, men submitting to women and men submitting to other men.
A key part of the exchange of power between the characters involves the use of consensual physical and mental force, BDSM and spanking.
Who doesn’t want to see one of their current or previous bosses get their comeuppance?
Meet Meredith, the despotic, man-hating but successful CEO of Danforth Enterprises. Her employees work harder at avoiding her than they do most anything else. However, her long-suffering PA, Penelope simply cannot avoid her wrath.
Enter the enigmatic Damien Franks, contracted by Penelope to renovate her boss’s executive bathroom. Damien has other skills and Penelope knows what they are. Taking pity on Penelope, and finding the feisty CEO strangely attractive albeit challenging, he sets out to tame the beast that is Miss Meredith Smythe. The renovation of Miss Smythe will require every skill and all the patience this accomplished Dominant possesses. But, with the help of a friend, and a few tools of the trade, Damien is confident that he can bring out the best in his new client and save Penelope from even further humiliation and anguish. But can he?
Despite her resistance, Meredith finds herself increasingly unable to resist Damien as she is drawn further into his web.
This is a story of dominance and submission; of power and control. It is not for the faint hearted as it takes the reader into the murky but highly erotic world of BDSM.
Please note: Reluctant Submission is an erotic novel that includes spankings, sexual scenes, BDSM, and more. If such material offends you, please don’t buy this book.
In one sharp tug, he ripped her expensive panties from her. He rolled them up in his hand, and just as she opened her mouth to protest, he unceremoniously shoved them deep inside her mouth. "Bite down upon them, Meredith. It will help you deal with the pain."
She was shocked at this turn of events but despite trying to eject them, she found that he was holding them firmly in place, waiting for her to settle down a little. Her mind was reeling at the sheer brutality of what had just happened to her, but with no further movement it was not long before she began to calm down. Her saliva was wetting the material of her gag and she swallowed, noting the taste before realizing that was the taste of her. She tasted her own excitement and she was shocked by the experience. She wondered if this man could do anything more to debase her.
Holding her firmly, Damien delivered the first two blows. Drawing his arm back in a large roundhouse arc, his hand came crashing down on one of Meredith's butt cheeks. Before she had time to respond he repeated the action on her remaining cheek. Meredith grunted as the pain registered and her legs jerked, but remained in place. There was a pause before he hit her with a barrage of blows, which were still firm but not quite as hard as the first two. Six rained down upon each cheek as he held her firmly by her bound wrists. As he was delivering them he removed his hand from the gag.
By the time he delivered the final blow, she was squirming around as much as his firm grip would allow, each leg flying into the air in response to the stinging and deeply painful impacts. Finally, she broke down, pushing her panties from her mouth. "Please… no more… please… I beg you," she sobbed. Damien paused, feeling the heat emanating from her butt as he picked up her panties before repositioning himself, wrapping one leg over hers.
"Your behavior is boorish and unacceptable in any civilized society, Miss Smythe. You may think that you can treat people as you wish, but they have rights. If you are unable to temper your own behavior, I am prepared to temper it for you. You have experienced what an erotic spanking can be like. Now you will experience a punishment spanking. You alone can decide what you would prefer to receive in the future. Do you wish to accept the gag back? It will make it that little bit easier for you."
There was a pause as she considered her options. In the future, she thought. There isn't going to be a future, but then she remembered last time she was in this position and she had thought the same thing. As much as she hated him, she realized he was trying to help her in a roundabout and twisted way. Eventually she hung her head and nodded.
For more exciting titles from RR Greaves, go to www.rrgreaveseroticauthor.com and add more spice to your reading life.
Other titles from RR Greaves:
|
English
|
NL
|
cf649825de691b6c5cc651a2605e89148c6393b26c75edebb6606f1b151cd823
|
Finding hidden graves is hardly news anymore in Mexico — unless they’re more than two centuries old.
The remains of at least 10 people who died about 2,400 years ago and were intertwined before burial have been found in the south of Mexico City.
Archaeologists from the National Institute of Anthropology and History (INAH) made the discovery Monday on the grounds of the Pontifical University of Mexico (UPM) in the borough of Tlalpan, located about 20 kilometers south of the capital’s historic center.
The remains, which included a baby and a small child, were laid out in a spiral shape in a grave two meters diameter and 1.5 meters below the site where chapel once stood. Archaeologists believe that all the individuals were buried at the same time.
The news agency Notimex described the discovery as the most peculiar find INAH has made since it started salvage work in the so-called pre-classical village of Tlalpan two years ago.
The settlement is believed to date back to around 800 BC and was likely one of the earliest in the Valley of Mexico.
Anthropologists have so far determined that two of the 10 skeletons are female and one is male. The sex of the other skeletal remains is not yet known.
Eight are believed to have been young adults and one a child aged between three and five at the time of death. The other remains are from a baby believed to be just a few months old.
At least two of the skulls show signs that they had been subjected to intentional harm while dental mutilation was detected in several other cranial remains. The bodies were buried with earthenware pots and bowls and some of them had ceramics and stones placed in their hands.
It is the first time that archaeologists have discovered a grave in the area containing such a large number of people, INAH said in a prepared statement.
The archaeologist who heads the INAH team said the discovery and ongoing excavation of the site could be of equal importance to the study of the pre-classical period in the Valley of Mexico as digs that were completed between 1960 and 1990 at sites including Tlatilco and Temamatla.
Jimena Rivera Escamilla said that her team has found more than 20 graves at the UPM site, of which six contained the remains of a single person.
She explained that the graves were dug as perfect circles, with diameters of up to 2.3 meters.
Source: Notimex (sp)
|
English
|
NL
|
d9e9284d8cfdae55ab541b238d9059799bc2b9979f0d053e64d94274080c0755
|
William Ramsdell is a native of Michigan. His first visit to Nebraska was in 1865 when he came in the service of the Government because of the depredations committed at that time by the Sioux Indians. He, with his Company arrived at Fort Leavenworth, Kansas, on the 17th of June, and then made their way to Fort Kearney, Nebraska, from which point they crossed the State to Fort Laramie, Wyoming. As soon as the Indians knew of the presence of the Government soldiers they wanted peace. It will be remembered that the Sioux Indians had taken advantage of their opportunities, in the lack of soldiers in the West; to try and drive out the white people and secure their ancient hunting grounds.
Peace being restored he was soon able to return to Michigan, arriving there in December of the same year, and without being favorably impressed with Nebraska as a possible home. During their journeyings from June to November; they never had enough rain to wet through their shirt sleeves.
In March 1871 he returned to Nebraska and inspected the land, and came to the conclusion that he would settle in the State, where there had been great changes during the five years from his first visit; so he went back for his family and returned in July and lived till November near the Walnut Creek.
He secured a claim in Liberty Township, on section 2, town 7, range 1, being 3 miles south and 3 miles east of Exeter. On November the 14th, be went up to his claim to build and make ready for settlement. Mrs. Ramsdell was left behind and was living in a log house; it was “chinched” but not mudded or plastered.
The evening of that day saw a change of weather, when it began to snow, and snowed all the next day and the next night; the snow drifted into the house and was soon under and over the bed, until it lay 16 inches deep on the top of Mrs. Ramsdell who could not move from her unhappy condition for some time. She was finally liberated by the help of her brother.
During this storm the brother had to go and look after the cattle; they were busy digging a well on the place, and owing to the snow storm lost its location. It was found afterwards that the brother had nearly walked into the well on his way to feed the cattle, which, had it happened could only have one result. Many indeed are the dangers in life both seen and unseen, from which we are often providentially saved.
The cost of boring a well in those days was $1 per root, but had the cost been only 10 cents a foot the Ramsdells could not have undertaken it on their farm at that time because they had no money. He had to draw his water from the Turkey Creek, a distance of two miles; he also went 14 miles to seek firing, and could see only one house in all that distance.
The Ramsdells have but two children; both sons and both doing well. Deyo, the eldest, was in the first Graduation class of the Exeter High School, and is now a physician in Kansas City, Missouri. Glen as an optician in Moline, Illinois.
Mrs. Mary Borman, the wife of another homesteader whose land cornered with J. K. Barber‘s, and who remained here only twelve months, is a sister to Mrs. Ramsdell. There was born to them on January 8, 1872, a baby girl named Gertrude; believed to be the third white child born in Fillmore County. They soon afterwards sold out and returned to Michigan where they are now living.
Source: Pioneer Stories of the Pioneers of Fillmore and adjoining Counties, by G. R. McKeith, Press of Fillmore County News, Exeter, Nebraska, 1915
|
English
|
NL
|
d0ea293efb79d133bcef0e1670e4ad38e8a357091c0e009cda6179b14ba07c69
|
There is a long folk art tradition of making scenes in bottles, often called whimsey bottles. Most familiar in the form of a ship-in-a-bottle, whimsey bottles were actually created in a variety of motifs, created mostly by those in isolated, confined or alienated situations, like sailors, farmers, prisoners or lumbermen. Because they required so much time and focus, whimsey bottles were usually made to help pass the time or allay loneliness, or to distract the mind. They offered demonstrations of skill and tokens of affection for those returning home.
Steve Moseley carries on that tradition by making what he refers to as “Patience Bottles”, so called because of the patience it takes to make them. He began with ships-in-the-bottle, but got bored with that and switched to satirical scenes often about political or religious themes. A year or so later he developed a serious and rare auto-immune disease, and faced with his own mortality he stopped caring if his bottles made people angry or uncomfortable and his themes got even more over the top!
Moseley lives in St. Louis, and after several years of fighting this life-threatening disease, he is now in remission. .
|
English
|
NL
|
e7de083323c673e3a0f1799bb93ab81ade6fbe7a3fd821368d6518b7a2d1b976
|
pubOne.info thank you for your continued support and wish to present you this new edition.
Every one asks me what I 'think' of everything, said Spencer Brydon; and I make answer as I can - begging or dodging the question, putting them off with any nonsense. It wouldn't matter to any of them really, he went on, for, even were it possible to meet in that stand-and-deliver way so silly a demand on so big a subject, my 'thoughts' would still be almost altogether about something that concerns only myself. He was talking to Miss Staverton, with whom for a couple of months now he had availed himself of every possible occasion to talk; this disposition and this resource, this comfort and support, as the situation in fact presented itself, having promptly enough taken the first place in the considerable array of rather unattenuated surprises attending his so strangely belated return to America. Everything was somehow a surprise; and that might be natural when one had so long and so consistently neglected everything, taken pains to give surprises so much margin for play. He had given them more than thirty years - thirty-three, to be exact; and they now seemed to him to have organised their performance quite on the scale of that licence
|
English
|
NL
|
2c869cfcce40fbf287e3cce013cd8ba89aaca4db48a93abdf756f84bc7061516
|
Early in our walking together, we would each come to a street crossing and crane our necks around each other trying to see if it was clear to cross. We didn't always agree on this, so often, there were many missed starts, hesitations, and needless waits.
We finally decided that Glen would be the one to check that the way was clear and to communicate this to me. This system works almost flawlessly for us and is how he became "navigation."
About the same time our walks became long enough that I found it necessary to carry a pack. I carry the pack, first of all, because it is my pack. I also want to make sure that I always have in it what I want to have available. This is how I became "procurement."
My goal with the pack was to gradually add weight to help make me comfortable with a backpack for hiking. My pack has gotten heavier with time, especially as we enter summer and find it necessary to carry more water.
On a long walk, I am ready to drop the pack as soon as we get home. Usually it is the first thing I do, dropping it on the kitchen counter. While I don't find it difficult to wear while walking, as soon as I don't have to carry it anymore, I take it off.
If I were to continue to wear the pack once we were home, or even the rest of the day, that would be fruitless, would hinder my ability to do many things, and would be just plain silly.
Often times in our lives, we carry the guilt of our sins, failures and temptations like a pack. It is a heavy burden that we just don't seem to be able to slide off our back. The sad thing is, it is fruitless for us to continue to carry that weight.
"But this Man, after He had offered one sacrifice for sins for ever,
sat down on the right hand of God;"
This reminds me of one a verse from one of my favorite hymns, "It Is Well" by Horatio Spafford:
My sin, Oh the bliss of this glorious thought
My sin, not in part, but the whole
Is nailed to the cross and I bear it no more,
Praise the Lord, Praise the Lord, Oh my soul.
It is well, with my soul,
It is well, it is well, with my soul.
|
English
|
NL
|
48646c10d5791006bc53ee3fa8f03d0d41d9c1ffa29f270354d52f7570956be5
|
Themes in the Kite Runner
- Designs in the Kite Runner
Designs in The Kite Runner
As in all books, " The Kite Runner” has many several themes during. There are many satrical twists and turns and keeps you wanting to learning much more. Some of the styles include: Kites; Discrimination and violence; and family jewelry, homeland, and nationality.
A single very important theme in the book was pret-a-monter. You can inform that pret-a-monter are a idea just by examining its name, " The Kite Runner. " The theme starts to show in the very beginning if they have the kite tournament in which Hassan is definitely running Amir's kite. This is when Hassan gets raped and Amir doesn't help him when he understands he can. Kites mark many things available. One of these things is definitely the class difference between Amir and Hassan, which explains in big part, all their relationship. In kite fighting, one boy controls the kite while the other rss feeds the chain. Hassan runs the kite for Amir, just like he also makes his breakfast, folds his clothes, and cleans his room. Though Hassan loves kite struggling, he would not actually have control of the kite. Hassan can help the kite " lift-and-dive, " but Amir is a one who is always the successful one. Hassan may capture a competitor kite and hold this in his hands, but this individual always has to create it back to Amir. Naturally Amir is usually happy plus its able to live with wealth and privilege in Baba's household. Amir will not do very much for others as Hassan will. Kites are also a major motif because just like the country, it involves rage and discord. The line of the pret-a-monter have earth glass with them and carves into the fliers hands, even though the runners run to retrieve these people once they happen to be cut down by way of a opponents. Over the book, Afghanistan had to go through people overthrowing each other. Though class separated Hassan and Amir, they both like their kite running, and it brought them jointly as a team irrespective of their differences. They were possib brothers during these moments, more then any other time. That they both distributed a sense...
|
English
|
NL
|
522ee8fa66425356dd429fe69c43b4f73434ad7f6f16ee5985ecf9256c62430d
|
Friday, 28 August 2009
AN ALL KNOWING GOD
'Jesus therefore, knowing ALL things that should come upon him...'John 18:4. The Gospel accounts make it clear that we serve an ALL knowing God. Jesus knew (had forknowledge) of every single event in his life. He knew he would die, why he would die and how he would die. He knew why he came and where he was going. If Jesus has all knowledge of himself and believers are IN him, his body, then what an assurance we have! Jesus knows every finite detail about you. He knows your going down and your rising up. He knows your thoughts, your reasoning and most of all your heart. He promises that if you cleave to him and his word he will not only number your steps but also direct them. Not only has he numbered the hairs on your head he has also counted your every heart beat. Having now recieved this knowledge how could you ever fear your future again?
|
English
|
NL
|
617d8ad1b0259a953dc0f842654db4cf9202bb22b2da3d2459fac5bbcaa2a0bd
|
here are short healthy nutrition plan which can be customized to fit their diet and also their own training plan. There are a number of ways to make great choices with their nutrition and people would need to find ways which can work for them. Before people can try to find a good nutritious based diet based on their feelings, they must do research certain topics and find information about a number of different foods. It is of truly importance to start in a slow manner and try to know about a diet in small steps so that people would not feel that the diet is difficult for them to follow.
People need to start by eating a couple of servings of fruits and vegetables each day, they are truly easy to buy and would cause a complete change in the energy they have and how they truly feel from their diet. The next vital step in a healthy nutrition plan would mostly involve people listening to their body. If their body tells them to eat when they are hungry then they must eat but people must eat healthy foods like low fat yogurt and also blueberries.
One of the important thing that people must always be on their mind is that there are a number of valuable ways to achieve the nutrition that they are looking. They does not have to do the exact same thing as any other person, and there are a number of services that are available to easily achieve their nutrition goals. People would always try to find new ways to stay healthy and eat certain foods that would benefit them for a number of years. People must not give up on their nutrition plan, it would need them to give up some certain foods and also work hard to make great choices but they would be happy that they have did it.
People must not stray from their overall goals that they have set for themselves and try new diets on a daily basis. Once their nutrition plan becomes second nature for them, they can easily go on to assist other people to start their own nutrition plan. There are a number of possibilities when it comes for them to have a very healthy nutrition plan. There are various ways for people to experience health and nutrition in a truly favorable way, these can be from services that can provide healthy nutrition plans so learn more.
Please head over to https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1S1_gvuap5M for other relevant information.
|
English
|
NL
|
97902206e627fa909b94a2aa07b6904d6fd85de47abd263044cc7d0ca2c94602
|
The Pottermore conundrum for fanfic writers.
Now that details are being revealed from the new Pottermore site and the new info that JKR is making available there, all kinds of previously held canon facts are being thrown into question. For example, Minerva McGonagall was always estimated as having been born in 1924 or 1925, and that she began teaching at Hogwarts in her early thirties. (This was based on a statement Rowling made in an early Scholastic.com interview, in which she said that McGonagall was a “sprightly 70,” presumably in the then-current book, Goblet of Fire, which took place in 1994-95. Subtract 70 from 1994 and you get 1924, and since her birthday is in October, Minerva would have been 70 for most of the 1994-95 school year if she were born in October 1924.)
Now Pottermore is saying that Minerva McGonagall was born in 1935. That changes a lot, particularly the assumption that she was at Hogwarts at the same time as Tom Riddle and was of the same generation (although the HP Wiki article does still say that Riddle was a year behind her at Hogwarts; unless JKR has changed Riddle’s birth year, too, that information will have to be revised by the Wiki people — of course, that would outright contradict what we learn in Chamber of Secrets and The Half-Blood Prince about when Riddle was in school, but JKR seems to be perfectly happy to create inconsistencies).
I would venture to say that hundreds of fanfics, perhaps thousands, have been written, trying to be canon compliant, assuming a birthdate for Minerva McGonagall a decade earlier than the new one. This revised date would also make Minerva only 55 at the start of the Harry Potter series in September 1991 — and only 46 when Harry was dropped off at the Dursleys’ after his parents’ murders.
I said elsewhere recently that I was going to treat any new information that came out of Pottermore as being fanfiction by the ultimate HP fan, JKR, but was going to stick with the series books for my source of canon information. I am very glad that I had already decided that.
I wish that JKR had seen fit to include these details in the books in some fashion, particularly as she must have been aware that fan sites everywhere had information that contradicted her “real” birth dates for her characters. On the other hand, it could be that she never really worked it out very well in advance, and only after the books were out and she needed to come up with a comprehensive, detailed history for her characters, including crucial dates, did she actually sit down and figure out their birth dates. She has said before that she’s “bad at maths.” Well, it seems more like she wasn’t as interested in the details of some of the characters as much as she was others (those of Harry’s generation), and so just left it all ambiguous and approximate in her head for her own purposes when writing the books.
Even some of the younger characters have had controversy surrounding their ages and birth years — Charlie Weasley, for example, had contradictory information about his age and his time attending Hogwarts until later printings sorted that out.
So anyway, my version of Minerva McGonagall will always have been born in either 1924 or 1925. (In the Resolving a Misunderstanding universe stories, she was born in 1924, since at the time I wrote it, given the information I had available, that seemed the most likely year — now I wish I’d kept track of all the information and sources I’d used to establish that date. *ETA: I found and added that information above, in the first paragraph.*) And RaM!Albus was born in 1840 because that’s what all biographical information about him suggested until several months after Deathly Hallows was published. (That was based on the fact that in an interview given partway through the series, JKR said that Dumbledore was about 150 years old.) I may or may not stick with that 1840 date for future non-RaMverse stories.
Basically, if it ain’t in the pages of the seven books of the series, I am not going to feel obliged to consider it canon. If something comes out of Pottermore that intrigues me and that I think would fit in well with a story I’m writing, that’s great, but I can’t keep revising my framework for my fanfic based on information that comes from outside those seven books (and maybe from Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them and Quidditch through the Ages). It would be crazy-making!
I will continue to try to be internally consistent within the Resolving a Misunderstanding / Death’s Dominion universe, and that will entail ignoring any details external to the books. (Death’s Dominion, is, however, not DH-compliant, and it is only partially HBP-compliant. It is not fully HBP-compliant because an event occurs that changes the outcome of Year Six; it is not DH-compliant in any way because I chose to ignore all of book seven, in part because the RaM-verse was already not DH-compliant since it was begun before DH was published.)
Despite it only being fanfiction, I was still rather strict with myself when writing Resolving a Misunderstanding; I kept track of all the characters, both canon and original, and all their relevant dates, whether I thought they were immediately necessary for the story or not, so that I could be consistent as I wrote the story. I even created a spreadsheet very early on to keep track of all those details. It wouldn’t do for me to describe one of my characters as being a vibrant youth in a chapter taking place in 1945, then a few chapters later, describe him as an old grey-haired man in 1957. I even sorted out wands for all my characters, whether those details were needed at that point or not. Often, I would find these details handy when I wrote later fics. This was particularly important because there are so many characters in the RaMverse, whether counting the canon characters or the original ones.
Maintaining a document with all of these details helped me to create, develop, and maintain a consistent fictional universe that felt “alive” and real to my readers.When one of my characters is ten years old in RaM in 1957, you can count on her being fifty in 1997 in a later fic, with a back-story to fill in those years, even if little of it makes it into the actual fic.
I hope that people continue to read and write fanfic, even with the ever-shifting landscape that JKR is giving us. I know I will, but I will remain “stuck in time” before all these other details came out, retain my sanity, and retain the internal coherence of my own AU fics, as derivative as they may be from the original HP universe.
- On this day, four years ago . . .
- Thoughts about writing RaM and my other fics
- WiPs and DH
|
English
|
NL
|
3c24366cdc59c8ed5c5c6c2617a939200fe276be688752244c29543230ec1dfd
|
This has been touched on a couple times in some other threads, so I figured we could give it it's own separate discussion here.
1. Darth Vader is Luke Skywalker's father
But in Star Wars (1977), Obi Wan Kenobi and Uncle Owen both explicitly tell Luke that his father is dead, and Obi Wan explicitly tells Luke that his father was betrayed and murdered by Obi Wan's former pupil Darth Vader. When those lines were written by George Lucas in the mid-70's, was he already committed to the idea that Obi Wan is lying, with the rationalization that Obi Wan has a "certain point of view"?
In fact further research shows even more reason to doubt that Vader was Luke's father before Empire Strikes Back was released. Not only does Star Wars make Vader and Luke's father seem like two distinct characters, but the first draft of Empire Strikes Back's screenplay, which Leigh Brackett wrote based on George Lucas's story treatment, has the ghost of Luke's father appearing to Luke to instruct Luke. Then Lucas wrote the second draft and it was in this second draft that Vader is first said to be Luke's father. Michael Kaminski argues in his book that the twist didn't exist before then; if someone wants to say that it did, they bear the burden of proof.
2. Leia is Luke's sister
But in Star Wars (1977) Luke very clearly has an attraction for her, which causes tension between him and Han in a scene on the Millennium Falcon. Then in Empire Strikes Back, Leia kisses Luke pretty hard in front of Han, and Luke's reaction clearly shows he was digging it in a non-brotherly way. And the Blu-Ray shows deleted footage from that scene where Luke and Leia share an intensely romantic exchange (this time not to spite Han but actually from the heart). All of this makes sense if you believe Gary Kurtz, the producer who left the series after Empire Strikes Back, when he admitted in an interview that Luke's sister, the "other skywalker" was originally not going to be Leia but was going to be a new character to be introduced in the sequel trilogy (episodes vii-ix). Kurtz opposed Lucas's last minute decision to resolve the love triangle in Return of the Jedi by switching the sister to Leia. Supposedly Lucas wasn't sure at that point if episodes vii-ix would ever get made so he decided to rush the resolution of the "other skywalker" subplot. You have to admit, Return of the Jedi's "reveal" of Luke and Leia's relationship feels a bit shoehorned in....
3. Darth is Vader's first name?
In Star Wars (1977) Obi Wan refers to Vader before he turned to the dark side as "a young Jedi 'NAMED' Darth Vader...." Then when he fights Vader on the Death Star, he says "Only a master of evil, Darth...." and "You can't win Darth..." For those who try to argue that this evidence is weak and inconclusive, how do you explain the following:
This way of speaking is never repeated in a subsequent Star Wars movie. Never again is someone said to be "named" Darth so-and-so. And never again is someone referred to merely as "Darth".
In fact, in the first draft of The Star Wars, Darth Vader is General Darth Vader, so "general" is his title, yet he still had the name "Darth."
4. Did Anakin's wife die in childbirth?
Even though Luke says he has no memory of his mother because he never knew her, Leia contrasts with this by saying she has a little bit of memory of her mother because she died when Leia was very young. This conversation clearly contrasts Luke and Leia where there mother is concerned; they did not know their mother for the same length of time.
Further research also corroborates this. In the story conferences between Lucas, Kasdan, Marquand, etc. for Return of the Jedi, Lucas elaborates on the backstory as it was in his mind at that time, and explicitly states that Anakin did not know his wife was pregnant, she kept it a secret from him because of the changes that have been taking place in him as he's drawn more and more to the dark side and becomes less and less the Anakin she's familiar with. She confides about the pregnancy to Obi Wan and gives birth in secret, and survives the birth. She takes Leia to Alderaan, where she dies while Leia is two or three years old.
Based on that story conference, dialogue was written for the scene on Dagobah in Jedi after Yoda's death when Obi Wan appears and discusses backstory with Luke. The scene as scripted goes longer than in the movie; Obi Wan explains some of the details outlined above, and even says that Luke's Uncle Owen was Obi Wan's brother. This full conversation between Luke and Obi Wan appears in the novelization of Jedi, even though it was cut from the movie.
When Luke decides to reveal to Leia that he is her brother on Endor, there are multiple ways he could choose to start the conversation. On the basis of the information that Obi Wan revealed to him earlier (that Luke was taken from his mother at birth while Leia went with their mother to Alderaan), he decides to ask about her memories of their common mother, memories that he wouldn't have, but that she would have because she wasn't separated at birth the way he was.
Explanations by fans on the internet, that Leia "uses the force" to have image memories of her mother, are just feeble attempts to reconcile something that in reality is just George Lucas changing his mind when it came time to write Revenge of the Sith.
|
English
|
NL
|
afcdc7e31bb94cce7fbd946ce4586e7ff57e6c9319421dc9a07b94522b23f0f4
|
by Christine Preston
Christine: When practicing the attunement with the Solar Ring and Tube of Light on December 19, I adjusted my call when it came to anchoring the twin pillars of all the higher Beings such as Alpha & Omega, Helios & Vesta, the Elohim and Archangels, for the solar Ring to be a platform for the tube of Light. I called for the descent of my own Higher Self together with that of André, my twin flame, to reflect my understanding of the process concerning the descent of the twin pillars. It is to do with the integration of one’s Higher Self, the Soul of which we are an incarnation of in physicality.
I had wondered why it was said in previous decades that the Causal Body – that was depicted around the I AM Presence – burns up when a person ascends, and that the connection is then direct with the I AM. The mistake consists in the fact of the omission that by that time the person has identified with the Higher Self, and the latter has a direct connection with the I AM in the first place. Archangel Michael has also pointed out to me that some teachings were given for the human kingdom, not incarnations of Archangels. The persona is a soul extension of a Higher Being whether you belong to the Human or Angelic kingdom. The angelic evolution is parallel to that of the human, but just as it is possible for humans to enter into the angelic kingdom, Angels can incarnate into physical bodies, and many lightworkers are angelics in embodiment at this time. Archangels have become great Beings of Light in a very ancient time, so if they have a mission involving a process of becoming human, it is for the purpose of manifesting God’s Will on Earth, and not so much as part of an evolution.
I have been told so many times that I am an extension of Archangel Faith, but didn’t want to mention it, although it is important to affirm one’s identity in order to activate the integration. During the night my ‘I AM Presence’ kindly confirmed this surreal reality which had already been stated practically every day of this last year, with the words: ‘You are the presence of your Higher Self, Archangel Faith.’ After this I experienced her presence in my heart with a more powerful surge of light, love and energy, than ever before. It’s a merging and integration difficult to describe. As I was meditating upon the feeling she started channeling through me, or I started making statements from ‘her’ viewpoint. Later I received messages in the form of the following dictation:
Archeia Faith: The Higher Selves are presently descending as light bodies and conferring to their lower selves on Earth the sacredness of their consciousness. This is happening at the same time as the negative attributes of the ego dissolve by the action of the light, the violet flame, or the cutting free by Archangel Michael’s sword of Blue flame, and there are many other reasons. To understand this fully it must be remembered that the Higher Self, or Soul, does not take control of the body at birth, but descends within it gradually. For instance it does so within the body of the child at an early age, and then takes possession of its brain later. The problem with mankind is, however, that generally, when a person does not walk upon the path of ascension, the three main vehicles of expression, which are the physical body, the emotional one, and the mental one, cut themselves off from the Soul, and in many case, function as an ego in a state of denial of their divine connection. The materialist science they have been indoctrinated with affects their vision of self. Religion has not enlightened them as to the possibility that the human being is more than a sinner, or predestined by the limitations of his mortality.
Jesus was initiated into the gnosis of Self when he was in Egypt. This mystery of the Self was known to the gnostics who spoke of it as ‘gnosis.’ But it’s a science in relation to the Higher Self, not the lower self or personality. Hermes, as he was known to the Greeks, was Thoth to the Egyptians. In Hermetism it was said that he spoke to his Higher Self and the latter was called ‘NOUS’ in Greek. It meant ‘Mind.’ It was said that this higher mind addressed him, Hermes, as his Son. This was an early example of channeling in the Father-Son relationship which also was demonstrated by Jesus. The Druids were also informed about the wondrous reality of this selfhood. The materialism that has obliterated the understanding of this gnosis is a beast of modern times.
The Higher Selves, or Souls, form the Spiritual Hierarchy of the Earth, with the Ascended Masters and Archangels. They are called the Entire Spirit of the Great White Brotherhood. The traditional term ‘white’ here is in the sense of ‘pure.’ The Body of God is the Soul extensions that are in physicality. The real Church that also is the Bride of Christ, is the interconnected lower selves being reintegrated in their wedding with Christ consciousness. This is happening as a slow process and in physicality.
A Higher Self cannot be fully expressed through a human being and it has another eleven soul extensions, some of which may, or may not, have ascended or been reintegrated. The Higher Self is vast and He, or She, takes possession of the extension and becomes heart, head, and hands – so to speak – with a flow of consciousness and energy that descend into the form. The Higher Self also descends with the pillar of consciousness of the Twin flame. The Solar ring that is invoked and that magnetizes the twin pillars of consciousness becomes a platform for the Tube of Light. Within the latter also descends Christ consciousness and the soul extensions are uplifted by the descent of the Lightbody, as well as an upsurge of Violet Transmuting flame that enfolds your entire being. Your threefold flame is amplified. You are sealed in the Tube of Light. The atoms of your being are irradiated by light and absorb it so that you experience a healing and regeneration leading to an actual transfiguration of your form. This will be a gradual process in a measure controlled by your I Am Presence. You may experience heat and a sensation of upliftment caused by the raising of your vibrations when you attune in this way. You may experience a floating sensation due to an activation taking place. A relationsip between the persona that you feel you are and your Higher Self, Christ Self, or I Am Presence, may result with a kundalini activation. It may manifest as a feeling of going up that ‘heavenly ladder’ that is figurative, and represents the dimensions of consciousness.
As a soul extension you become the expression of your Higher Self. There already exists oneness between that higher Soul that you are and the one who is its complement, the Twin Flame. There is a quality of sublime polarity in this relationship and with this exercise you begin to experience sensations, or states of being, that are undescribable. Joy and bliss are not enough, but perhaps the term ‘sublime’ could almost do it justice.
There are Old Souls in the sense of the state of evolution at which the Higher Selves are because some also are evolving, and it is the reason that they have sought physicality. But many have come into it to hold the Light and carry out a mission. At one time the Souls that descended into physicality were unable to free themselves from the cycles of incarnation. This is a different situation from that of the Archangels who incarnate, or extend their consciousness in incarnation, but only do so when they are absolutely sure that no risk is involved in the sense that they have the strength, confidence, and faith that will prevent a fall into the pit of the lower dimensions.
There is a mixture of higher-dimensional beings incarnated upon the surface of the planet and, of course, this is related to the drama that has been lived as far as the cosmic destiny of the Earth has been concerned. It has necessitated the master-minding of a complicated plan to not only restore the timelines to what they were intended to be, but also to raise the material Galaxy to a point of safety, that point being a higher dimension than the one mankind fell into. This place of safety wil be one at which everlasting life can be enjoyed.
Apart from what has been divulged concerning the restoration of the human DNA because it was tampered with, so that you can become fully conscious beings, in a primordial time when magicians of the black art were able to formulate thoughtforms, monstrous hybrids were created, including a female form that has been called ‘Lilith.’ The divine Plan included the creation of the five physical races to rectify the genealogical situation because the forms were not suitable for the sons and daughters of God to express themselves in physicality. This was when the original genes were obtained from 12 extraterrestrial races. Their quantum DNA was formulated upon the higher realms in their image and these thoughtforms were manifested upon the physical plane which was, however, still upon a higher dimension than the 3rd in that primordial era before the first colony appeared on Earth – the one that was followed by the Lemurian civilization. The souls represented as Adam descended in the progeny of beings who divided sexually as male and female. There existed on Earth hermaphrodite beings but on a higher dimension. References to them are not always clear. It may be a recollection of the twin flames before they separated in order to incarnate, as following the initial colonization of Earth millions of souls incarnated into the progeny of these first extraterrestrial colonisers. The first two root races, the Polarian and Hyperborean ones, were hardly physical and were those that could live in any environment such as fire and had a sight that was unlimited. They possessed powers that were represented as a third eye and were cyclopean. The Atlanteans were Titans and misused their powers. This was also due to the nature of the beings who incarnated in their progeny. The Atlanteans had been divided in two groups. One had chosen the teachings of the path of Ascension, the Tree of Life. The other had chosen the path of the black art. The Atlanteans had attempted to impose control over the whole Earth. After the Atlantean cataclysms the good teachings were preserved but deteriorations occurred.
There also were miscreations by the use of genetic engineering during the Atlantean era and it was the cataclysms in the period of 10,500 to 9,000 BC that finally permitted the elimination of most hybrid forms. When the Souls extended their consciousness as facets of themselves into physicality in the days of Lemuria, the forms they inhabited were giant and their lifespan was of one thousand years in the same body, as is said of Adam, but after the Atlantean period, when civilization was reconstructed, God formulated new laws, to prevent the premature use of psychic powers because this had been the cause of a misuse that had contributed to corruption as well as the downfall of Atlantis, and longevity decreased because of the disconnection with the Higher Self. The Anunnaki and Atlanteans had worked upon the degradation of the human being. The divine plan was to restore the human body and the Forces of the Light counted on the activation of the DNA by the irradiation of photonic light in the future time that we are presently in.
In the present era of transition the persona is being re-integrated with the Higher Self. There will be a time when a quantum leap onto the 5th dimension will be accomplished, when the forms will be changed but soul attunement with the Higher Self will be central to the work before that.
I Am the presence of Archeia Faith. We are Soul family. We are in love and with you always.
December 22: A funny story: During the night I felt energy being directed to my chakras up to the heart but it was a slightly different sensation than the one I get with Archangel Michael’s presence. I became a little bit concerned as I experienced some attacks in the past and although it seemed alright it could have developed differently. I heard high pitches in my right ear and my reception was not very clear for some reason, and André may have said there was no interference, but I thought I’d better do my tube of Light and proceeded with asking for Archangel Michael’s protection as well as the electronic presence of Jesus Christ. It was a prayer which got rid of attackers before. Then I felt the Christ’s presence, and he does come with his own legions! But a voice stated: ‘False Alarm!’ I then asked who they were and it was two beings who said: ‘We are angels working for Archangel Michael. We are doing some repairs.’ They were like surgeons carrying out an operation on me but on the etheric plane. So I asked that the prayer may be for attacks in the world where lightworkers are concerned. I wanted to share this with you because it’s so Surreal and so you will know what to expect when it happens to you. It can be funny as for instance a member of the Cabal using psychotronic technology to attempt to communicate with me for the purpose of making an accusation, was told by André to ‘buzz off.’
|
English
|
NL
|
8b1a2d835f25c91d03f32f60c961b1016d951b2beed65bfb6623990d82544961
|
Olivier Cortes, a young French designer, born in Grasse. Very passionate about computing and looks his way through the drawing and design. To Perp’Art school in south Toulouse, he develops his artistic culture to enter to College Art and Design Reims. During 5 years.
It obtains his DNAP with congratulations of the jury as well as his DNSEP with congratulations too. In Patrick Nadeau's side, he discovers the plant design and positions his projects by questioning the energies as well as the industrial modes of production.
His objects try to fall of the legibility in a form, one
|
English
|
NL
|
b708dc19b77deb24bf9fec67a212c2ffd9cb0e157770e824b647c65ba36c9164
|
The current retrospective exhibition of the work of Edward Burns-Jones at Tate Britain is the first major exhibition of his work since 1933, also at the Tate. It is a reminder of the extent to which the reputation of one of the most celebrated of late-Victorian painters collapsed during the C20. It is an exhibition which will inevitably sharply divide opinion as to his importance and worth.
Burne-Jones was not a natural or instinctive artist. He never attended an art school, nor studied in the studios of other artists. Born in poverty, he was extremely bright and used his intellectual gifts to obtain a place at Oxford where he made jointly with William Morris a considered intellectual decision to commit his life to art and design. It was a commitment forged in revulsion with the mass industrialisation he saw all around him and in search of a purer beauty that he believed could be found in medieval and early Renaissance art and literature. His was an intellectual quest that required him to master art and design, rather than the harnessing of an innate artistic talent. As Elizabeth Prettejohn says in her fascinating introduction to the exhibition catalogue “Burne-Jones’s unorthodox formation as an artist places him at an extreme of avant-gardism; in his intellectual habits, he is more like a conceptual artist of today … than his like a studio-trained practitioner of the mainstream western tradition. On the other hand, his artistic development was also deeply embedded in a history and tradition with which he was fascinated from the start and in which he became impressively learned: the Renaissance tradition in which the artist aspires to the status of intellectual”.
The challenge of this focus on art as an intellectual endeavour is that can strip the resulting art of emotional content. And it seems to me that this is a challenge to which Burne-Jones has succumbed. The work is sterile and emotionless. He manages to construct images which tell narrative stories based on the great medieval and mythological legends from which all the fear, anger or humour has been stripped out. He paints languid young women in various stages of undress whilst completely sublimating any sensuousness in the resulting image. In short the work leaves you cold. The narrative may be interesting, the composition may be carefully considered but the result does not engage.
Furthermore, every character looks the same. You have to laugh when the catalogue informs you that in a work like The Golden Stairs that individual figures can be identified as specific people, because they all look the same. And the figures in the The Golden Stairs look exactly the same as in every other picture, including the small selection of portraits that he was commissioned to do. He formed a strong view of what beauty looked like at the very start of his career, and the evidence it that it never changed. In fact only once in the whole exhibition did I spot a little bit of human reality creep in; the enigmatic smile of the mermaid in The Depths of the Sea, as she drags the seaman down to his watery death.
The last room in the exhibition focuses on the use of his designs in the production of stained glass and tapestry and this room most effectively brings Burns-Jones into focus. He was a designer not an artist, mining his own perception of medieval and early Renaissance beauty and heavily focused on the intellectual integrity and focus of his work.
That he was held in such high esteem at the time of his death tells us a great deal about the Victorian establishment who so admired him. Whilst they were happy to grow rich as a result of mass industrialisation, all their instincts told them to distance themselves from ‘trade’ and to value some sort of pre-industrial English arcadia. Whilst many were happy to involve themselves in surreptitious ‘affairs of the heart’, they demanded a veneer of sexless chastity. Perhaps indeed these pictures are the narrative equivalent of the ‘stiff upper lip’; interesting in an anthropological sort of a way, but stifling, confining and backward looking. It wasn’t the future then, and it certainly isn’t now.
|
English
|
NL
|
c61225ab4473df1c4b7cc03f4ae7c3b1a101aba056c6fbb82d198ea5cf775a7e
|
Proud be the patriotism of the World War II Generation.
So Sad The Song
By Richard Mabey Jr.
My father was of the World War II Generation. My dad served in the Seventh Army Air Corps, during World War II. Dad was stationed right by Pearl Harbor at Hickam Air Field. Dad went Home to be with the Lord nearly 10 years ago.
With the passing of my beloved Dad and so very many of the World War II Generation, we are rapidly losing an entire dictionary of word definitions and phrases.
My dad, my uncles and their friends their ages, used to refer to Country Music as Cowboy Music. You just don’t hear that phrase that much, any more.
In the little Mayberry that I grew up in, there was a corner bar about a half-mile from my old homestead. It was smoke-filled and had swinging doors, a jukebox and some bar stools. It was the very kind of place that Merle Haggard sang about in his song “Swinging Doors.” I never stepped foot in the place, but from time to time, looked into the swinging doors, on my way home from school when I was a kid. The swinging doors were the very same kind of doors that Miss Kitty had on the Long Branch Saloon. Well, my dad always referred to that bar as a “run down joint.” Once again, a phrase that you just don’t hear any more.
When my dad was a child, there was no electrical refrigerator in his home. His Grandpa owned and operated a full-blown icehouse that stood along the old Morris Canal. Great Grandpa Mabey used to sell blocks of ice to the canal boat captains as they awaited their turn to ride up the steep hill of Incline Plane Ten East. One of Dad’s chores, each day, was to walk the half-mile path from his home at the end of Mabey Lane to his Grandpa’s icehouse and bring home a block of ice for the kitchen icebox. Hence, I always remember my dear father refer to the refrigerator as the “ice box.” A term that you hardly ever hear in today’s modern world.
My father was a deeply religious man. Simply put, he hated alcoholic beverages. I have known a lot of religious leaders; pastors, ministers and priests who justify drinking alcoholic beverages because of the Biblical reference that Jesus turned water into wine. Basically, the hard core truth of the matter is that I have known a lot of closet alcoholics, who just happened to be ministers and priests. My dad didn’t buy any of it. Dad had no use for alcoholic beverages. Dad used to refer to alcoholic drinks as “the hard stuff” or “gin mill poison” or “killer moonshine.” Once again, you’ll hardly ever hear any of those phrases any more.
Another term that I remember my dad, my uncles and their friends use from time to time was the phrase, “Rube Goldberg contraption.” Rube Goldberg was a cartoonist and an inventor who lived from 1883 to 1970. Rube’s inventions, that he would dream up, would be complicated, extravagant and have a great sense of creativity. Dad would often use this term when he was working on a plumbing project in the old Mabey Homestead. One of my uncles would be helping Dad. The three of us would be down the cellar working on the plumbing. Dad would say something like, “this here two by four’s in the way, Edward. We’re going to have to Rube Goldberg it here to swing around all these beams here.” And Uncle Ed would know exactly what my dad was talking about! Once again, a phrase hardly heard any more.
This is one of my favorites. You hardly ever hear this one in our modern society. Ready for this one? The phrase is “butter and egg man.” Here’s the gist of it. I grew up in a very small town in northern New Jersey. There was an American Legion Hall right down the street from my house. Every year there would be the big statewide American Legion State Meeting. The officers for that year would go off to Trenton, Atlantic City, Princeton, Cape May or wherever the big statewide meeting was being held that year.
Well, you would have a local storeowner, or the fellow who worked in the canning factory in Paterson, or the local farmer going off to the big city WITHOUT his wife. They would then come home with stories of the wild times they had. Please note that I personally think that most of these “wild times” were pure fiction. But the fellow who came from the little Mayberry, from a rather humble background, and then put on airs in the big city was referred to as the “butter and egg man.”
Please do note that I have nothing but respect for the veterans and veterans’ fraternal societies. I’m just reflecting upon a cultural phenomenal that I remember from my childhood and youth, growing up in a little Mayberry in New Jersey. Barney Fife would often be guilty of being a “butter and egg man,” whenever he and Andy would attend the Annual Statewide Sheriff’s Meeting in Raleigh. Once again, you hardly hear of the phrase “butter and egg man” in our modern society.
These are only a few of the very cool phrases that were pretty much the trademark lingo of the beloved World War II Generation. With a bit of a tear in my eye, I admit that as corny as they were, I dearly miss hearing these phrases.
|
English
|
NL
|
5e7d7e452c3deca9fbaf985f4a834a6e692e4821d0259eb97521b36da77253c9
|
A new study published by the National Bureau of Economic Research counters the argument that immigrants displace native workers from their jobs. This study shows that the reality is quite different from the hypothesis that native workers lose economically when a new workforce is introduced; instead of competing for the same jobs, domestic workers–even low skilled workers–tend to specialize into more advanced professions. The study also suggests that domestic workers do not lose economically, but that the entire labor market benefits.
I have been a student of immigration related activity throughout my career as an attorney. What this study reveals is that many of the most ardent opponents of immigration including low skilled American workers are likely to benefit from an influx of workers. Although there are many issues with allowing immigrants into the country like burdens on social services and potential crime, the economic benefits detailed in this and related studies strongly suggest that immigration rewards most members of the native society.
The study was conducted by noted economists Mette Foged and Giovanni Peri. Foged is a PhD student and lecturer at the University of Copenhagen, while Dr. Peri is an economics professor at the University of California, Davis. The study was conducted using data from Denmark over a period from 1991 through 2008. During this period, Denmark experienced a large influx of workers from Bosnia, Somalia and Iraq. Peri and Foged examined the job upgrading and downgrading, wages and employment, and occupational complexity of Danish workers.
The conclusion of this study was that, contrary to public opinion, native workers did not experience an added risk of unemployment. Although native workers did become more mobile across firms and geographical locations, they were not at any greater risk of losing their jobs. Instead of displacing native workers from their jobs, the study found that native workers were afforded the opportunity to specialize into more complex occupations. While immigrant workers were utilized as manual laborers without particular skill, the workers that had previously filled such roles were allowed to obtain more advanced training and skills which improved their earning power.
In a prior study conducted by Dr. Peri, he posited that a similar mechanism had been observed in the United States from 1960 to 2000. This analysis also found that immigrant workers took manual labor jobs, allowing the American workers who had previously served in these positions to obtain new skills and ascend the occupational structure. Native workers also migrated into jobs that necessitated well developed language skills, and the wages for these positions tended to rise.
As an immigration attorney, I have represented many clients who have sought employment in the United States. The common misconception that these immigrant workers scavenge jobs that would go to native workers is one that has long held sway in many anti-immigrant circles but with the publication of this latest study, perhaps anti-immigrant groups will re-examine their position.
Lyttle Law Firm, PLLC has helped many clients resolve employment issues involving immigration or family law. To learn how Lyttle Law Firm can assist you, please call (512) 215-5225.
|
English
|
NL
|
cb10c67109ea284a6e8d0968f66e26f85485655c01666434850dd4f301d30c89
|
This website is using cookies. By continuing to browse, you are accepting our Terms and Conditions.
In the 1970's, a technological revolution was implemented for the entire industrial goods market, and the electronization of products, such as sewing machines and typewriters were planned. The first electrical sewing machine "Compal DX" was released in 1976, and in 1980, an electric office typewriter, the EM-1, was released. Additionally, from the late 1960s to the 1980s, calculators were manufactured and sold both domestic and internationally.
|
English
|
NL
|
088ad0e9a5a0afd3ad91bcad9260a14955f7553991e42aeed3aed54a3035e628
|
What got Thomas into prison isn't known. He was an inmate that was let out of his cell by the guards and locked in the cafeteria for he protection at the start of the zombie uprising. He stayed in there for four months or so with Dexter, Andrew, and Axel.
Written by Robert Kirkman and drawn by Charlie Adlard.
Major Story Arcs
In the Jail
Even with limited company and tight space, Thomas doesn't come off well with his cafeteria-mates and none of them are sure why. When Rick and Tyreese find the men Thomas says he's in jail for tax fraud - something he claims it wasn't his fault. He lives among the group without really taking any part in the daily activities besides helping the women pack their things into their rooms/cells. He does have a quick visit with Patricia, who tells him that she just broke up with Otis.
The deaths of Susie and Rachel Greene rocks the dynamic within the prison and Dexter is suspected of their murders (having been incarcerated for murder) and locked in a cell. While Dexter is locked up, Thomas finally makes an appearance in the laundry room with Andrea. While refusing to help her with the laundry he pulls out a knife and tells her he plans on cutting off her head instead. Andrea goes for her gun but Thomas wrestles it away. After a struggle in which Thomas cuts Andrea's face and cuts off her left earlobe she is able to escape. She runs outside with Thomas in hot pursuit. Rick immediately jumps into action and tackles Thomas. Realizing that Thomas is the one who killed the Greene girls he begins pummeling Thomas' face. Tyreese pulls Rick off of Thomas before he can kill him.
Thomas is initially held in the cafeteria's freezer. Rick realizes a problem: the inmates had used the freezer as their toilet since it was airtight; Rick is afraid Thomas will suffocate to death, a death too easy for him. (Tyreese just liked that Thomas would have to wallow in his own crap.) The men pull him out and place him in a cell to await a hanging. Oddly enough, Patricia thinks there has been a huge misunderstanding. She feels Thomas is crazy and not evil and decides to help him escape. She gets him up and out of his cell, which is enough time to gather his strength and begin strangling her. She scratches at his face and he falls back with a yell. The commotion prompts Rick's group to assemble. Tyreese puts a gun in Thomas' face. He is shot twice from behind, however, by Maggie. She puts an extra four shots into him for good measure. To dispose of Thomas' body, Hershel requests that Rick has it thrown to the zombies outside the prison's fences so that he can watch the body ripped apart to get a bit of closure.
Thomas' body is seen later when another zombie gets its intestines stuck on Thomas' ribcage.
|
English
|
NL
|
95b6444b802b3fb2fa221670108cd2b309d0562b3fd019621cfaec0d7ad2eea4
|
A definition I find most descriptive is that a Christian is one who is:
Continually cheerful, and
Constantly in trouble.
Surely nothing could better describe the Apostle Paul in his ministry to the world of his day. He was -- by faith, not by nature -- completely fearless, continually cheerful, and certainly constantly in trouble. That is indicative of an inherent quality of Christian life. Christianity is a very dangerous faith. If you do not think so, you have not begun to live it. We are followers of one who said, "I have come not to bring peace on earth but a sword, and to make a division among men..." (Matthew 10:34). By that seemingly paradoxical means he purposes to heal the warring of earth, to repair the brokenness of mankind, and to join men into one great body, sharing life together.
When Paul came to Ephesus, as recorded in Acts 19, he found that city locked into pagan superstition, the people miserable and depraved, practicing black magic, voodoo, and other occult arts, ridden by fear, by demonism, by darkness, the sordid powers of evil entrenched in a stronghold over the city, holding it in bondage. Paul attacked that stronghold with the most powerful weapons ever known -- the weapons of truth, of love, of righteous behavior, and of faith expressed in prayer. Almost singlehandedly at first, before the little band of Christians gathered around him began to swell and to spread all through the province of Asia, he began to attack this formidable stronghold. And within two years it was demolished.
The result was that they had a great bonfire in Ephesus, to which the people brought their books on black magic and their astrological charts and horoscopes and Ouija boards and burned them in a public square in the center of the city. It looked as if Paul's work there were over, as if the Marines had landed and the situation were well in hand. So the apostle evidently began to think of moving on. Luke tells us in Acts 19, Verses 21-22:
Now after these events Paul resolved in the Spirit to pass through Macedonia and Achaia and go to Jerusalem saying, "After I have been there, I must also see Rome." And having sent into Macedonia two of his helpers, Timothy and Erastus, he himself stayed in Asia for a while. (Acts 19:21-22 RSV)
At this time there were three things which occupied the apostle's heart and moved him to take this action: First there was that which he said weighed upon him daily: Care for the new Christians who had come to Christ in Macedonia and Greece -- in Thessalonica and Beroea and Philippi, in Athens and Corinth. He longed to impart more truth to them, for he knew, far better than we in our day seem to have remembered, that beginning the Christian life is not enough; you must learn how to live it in the power of the Holy Spirit. For if you begin the Christian life but do not learn how to live it, you will still have heaven as your home and God as your Father, and some joy and peace in your heart, but you will be ineffective as a Christian and your life will still reflect bondage to sin and the reign of evil, just as much as it did before you became a Christian. So he longed to teach them the truth which would set them free and make them vital, growing, attractive Christians.
The second thing that moved him was an intense desire to penetrate to the very center of the Roman empire and culture with the claims of Christ, to plant the gospel in the fullness of its power in the very capital, in Rome itself. "After I've been to Jerusalem," he said, "I must see Rome." Dr. G. Campbell Morgan says, "That's not the 'must' of the tourist; that's the 'must' of the missionary." He longed to help the Christians who were already there and to instruct them. On the very journey which he will soon commence, when he comes to Corinth, he will take time to write his great epistle to these Roman Christians, so as to help them even though he is hindered from getting there. But he also determines that at last he will come to Rome.
The third thing, merely suggested here by Luke, is the concern and desire in his heart to help the famine-stricken saints of the church at Jerusalem. Already a great famine had descended upon the land of Judea. The Christians in Jerusalem were hungry, and Paul longed to help them. So he sent Timothy and Erastus into Macedonia. Here we are not told, but from one of Paul's letters we learn why: It was to tell the churches there about the need of the Christians in Jerusalem, and to collect an offering for them in advance, so that, when the apostle came, he could send it or take it to Jerusalem. We can read this in Paul's letter to the Corinthians, Chapter 16:
Now concerning the contribution for the saints: as I directed the churches of Galatiansatia, so you also are to do. On the first day of every week each of you is to put something aside and store it up, as he may prosper, so that contributions need not be made when I come. And when I arrive, I will send those whom you accredit by letter to carry your gift to Jerusalem. If it seems advisable that I should also go, they will accompany me. (1 Corinthians 16:1-4 RSV)
He reminds these Corinthians,
I will visit you after passing through Macedonia, for I intend to pass through Macedonia, and perhaps I will stay with you or even spend the winter, so that you may speed me on my journey, wherever I go. For I do not want to see you now just in passing; I hope to spend some time with you, if the Lord permits. But I will stay in Ephesus until Pentecost, for a wide door for effective work has opened to me, and there are many adversaries. (1 Corinthians 16:5-9 RSV)
It was the apostle's plan to stay in Ephesus until the day of Pentecost, but his mind was soon changed. Luke tells us now, in Acts l9, what caused him to alter these plans:
About that time there arose no little stir concerning the Way. For a man named Demetrius, a silversmith, who made silver shrines of Artemis, brought no little business to the craftsmen. These he gathered together, with the workmen of like occupation, and said, "Men, you know that from this business we have our wealth. And you see and hear that not only at Ephesus but almost throughout all Asia this Paul has persuaded and turned away a considerable company of people, saying that gods made with hands are not gods. And there is danger not only that this trade of ours may come into disrepute but also that the temple of the great goddess Artemis may count for nothing and that she may even be deposed from her magnificence, she whom all Asia and the world worship." (Acts 19:23-27 RSV)
The silversmiths at Ephesus had been organized into a trade union. And they found that they were being hit hard in the most sensitive part of the human anatomy -- the pocketbook.
I heard a man say the other day that he saw a friend looking very gloomy. He asked his friend, "What's the matter?" The friend said, "My wife has just made me a millionaire." He said, "Well, what's wrong with that?" The friend answered, "I used to be a multi-millionaire." Anything that hits us in the financial area always strikes home.
These silversmiths, who made little silver souvenirs of the goddess Artemis, found their business tremendously diminished because so many people were becoming Christians that nobody wanted their shrines anymore. Demetrius, the president of the union, cared nothing for the real welfare of the hundreds who had become Christians and had found freedom and peace and joy in Christ. He saw only the red ink in the profit and loss columns of his books, and he was very concerned about that. (It is interesting that archaeologists have found in the ruins of Ephesus an inscription bearing the name of the man, Demetrius.) The problem, of course, was that the vested interests in Ephesus were being threatened.
This sounds very familiar in our day, does it not? We know that this is a charge many make concerning the war in Vietnam. They say the war is being continued simply because there are men in this country who have vested interests in making money by means of the military machine. If the war ended, their interest would be threatened, and that is why they keep it up. There is a certain degree of justification for this charge, because there always have been profiteers who care nothing for the fact that lives are lost, and bodies smashed and mutilated, so long as they make a fast buck. This was the problem here in Ephesus. Profiteering is nothing new.
There is a profound revelation of mob psychology in the account Luke gives us. For, after all, you cannot arouse a mob to defend your interests if all you can say is that you haven't been making as much as you used to. That may interest you, but it does not interest others. They do not care whether you made any money or not. Yet the lack of revenue was what stirred up these silversmiths. They were disturbed by their loss of income. Since no one will defend you on that basis, Demetrius had to add another charge, emotionally loaded, deliberately introduced, in order to arouse the citizenry.
The charge was that the religion of the city was threatened, that Artemis, the goddess the city worshipped, was insulted by this loss of income and was in danger of losing her stature in the eyes of the world. Artemis was the goddess enshrined in the great temple outside Ephesus, which was known as one of the seven great wonders of the world. She was carved, apparently, from a meteorite, because, later on, the town clerk reminds them that this image had fallen from the sky. According to some of the copies that have been excavated, she was the figure of a many-breasted woman, enshrined as the goddess representing Mother. So, in attacking Artemis, they were attacking Mother. When you attack Mother and apple pie, you are really striking to the heart of a deeply involved emotional issue. And these men knew it.
These riot engineers in Ephesus, and those of any other day, know exactly what emotional issues will arouse people. They well knew that they could stir up the whole city with this one, for this was the season of the year when Ephesus gave itself over to a whole month of feasting, revelry, and debauchery centering on the worship of Artemis. They called this festival the "Artemision." It had the characteristics of the Mardis Gras in New Orleans. The city was packed with people who had come for this special occasion. There are two very interesting and revealing things about this speech by Demetrius:
First, he evidently was quite unaware how ridiculous his charge really sounds. If Artemis is so great that the whole world worships her, then why is she not able to defend herself against this attack? If her power is so great that she commands the worship of men, why does she need the support of the city of Ephesus to defend her? No one ever seems to face that kind of a question when raising an issue such as this. Second, he was obviously blind to the significance of the way by which his trade had been ruined. It had not been openly attacked by Christians. Paul had never said a thing against the religion of Ephesus. He had never denounced the temple, and had in no way tried to attack this pagan superstition. In fact, the town clerk will openly admit that, "these were not blasphemers of the goddess, nor robbers of the temple."
Now, that is most interesting, because, you see, there was nothing negative about their approach. These early Christians did not go around faulting paganism; they simply introduced a positive new faith of such tremendous power and such fantastic reality that, when anyone experienced it, the old way of life was wiped out. The old was devitalized by the appearance of the new, and there was no need for attack. The Christians simply declared Jesus Christ and his availability to man. And men and women, sunken in darkness and superstition, gripped by fear, found him so loving, so genuine, so joyful, that all their empty paganism simply was lost by comparison. It never seems to have dawned upon Demetrius that this was what had happened and that therefore there was no possible way of defending against it. If the Christians had attacked this pagan philosophy, then a defense could have been erected, but they said nothing about it. It was simply "the expulsive power of a new affection," to use Thomas Chalmer's marvelous term. Luke continues his account of the mob and its actions in Verse 28:
When they heard this they were enraged, and cried out, "Great is Artemis of the Ephesians!" So the city was filled with the confusion; and they rushed together into the theater, dragging with them Gaius and Aristarchus, Macedonians who were Paul's companions in travel. Paul wished to go in among the crowd, but the disciples would not let him; some of the Asiarchs also, who were friends of his, sent to him and begged him not to venture into the theater. Now some cried one thing, some another; for the assembly was in confusion, and most of them did not know why they had come together. (Acts 19:28-32 RSV)
That sounds familiar, does it not? How little human nature has changed in two thousand years! Here was a crowd, excited by a false emotional issue, which surged together into the theater. If you visit the site of Ephesus today you find that this theater has been excavated. It is the only sizable part of the city which still stands. It was a huge theater, able to seat about twenty thousand people, so this was a vast crowd. These people were very responsive to this appeal, although there were many who did not know what it was all about.
Paul wanted to go in and speak to them. What an insight into the fearless bravery of this man of God, who did not hesitate a moment to take on a crowd like this. But his friends recognized that the mood of the crowd was ugly. Even the Asiarchs, the political rulers of the province of Asia, responsible to the Romans, who were friends of Paul, were concerned and sent word to him not to venture into the theater. That is very revealing. Paul had made friends among these rulers. They understood and were impressed by the message of Christ. Though Luke does not say they were Christians, nevertheless they were favorably inclined and tried to protect Paul from this wild and raging mob. Luke then goes on to show how impossible it would have been for Paul to have done anything to quiet them:
Some of the crowd prompted Alexander, whom the Jews had put forward. And Alexander motioned with his hand, wishing to make a defense to the people. But when they recognized that he was a Jew, for about two hours they all with one voice cried out, "Great is Artemis of the Ephesians!" (Acts 19:33-34 RSV)
Again that sounds familiar. Here is a wild mob that has no argument other than simply to chant, over and over again, this slogan which aroused their pride and fed their egos and ministered to their emotions. The Jews were very concerned, doubtless because they had lived in this city for many years and were known to be opposed to the worship of idols. They had a synagogue there and had made it clear that they were not idol worshipers and did not approve the practice, but they had no effect upon the populace. They stood for the right cause, but without any power to affect others. Nevertheless they were afraid that they might be implicated in this disturbance and so they prompted Alexander, one of their number, to stand up and explain their attitude and to make clear that they were not the ones who had prompted the riot.
This very likely is the same Alexander to whom Paul refers in his letter to Timothy, who had become, by the time Paul wrote, the bishop of the church at Ephesus. Paul said, "Beware of Alexander the coppersmith who did me great harm..." (2 Timothy 4:14).
I remember, years ago, hearing a Baptist preacher comment on that text. He said that he, too, had been damaged by Alexander the coppersmith, as he looked at the collection plate and saw all the pennies there!
But the crowd refuses to hear Alexander and drowns out his words with a chant they continue for more than two hours, over and over, monotonously again and again, "Great is Artemis of the Ephesians!" All you have to do is substitute, "Ho, ho, Ho Chi Minh!" and you have brought that right up to date. When a crowd gets to the point where its emotions have been so short-circuited that its reasoning power is lost, it is in a very dangerous state. These Asiarchs were quite correct in their concern for the apostle because, with just the slightest suggestion, this crowd could have been sent raging through the streets, demolishing everything in its path. But it was finally quieted by the town clerk, whose office in those Greek cities corresponded to that of mayor. Luke tells us what happened:
And when the town clerk had quieted the crowd, he said, "Men of Ephesus, what man is there who does not know that the city of the Ephesians is temple keeper of the great Artemis, and of the sacred stone that fell from the sky? Seeing then that these things cannot be contradicted, you ought to be quiet and do nothing rash. For you have brought these men here who are neither sacrilegious nor blasphemers of our goddess. If therefore Demetrius and the craftsmen with him have a complaint against any one, the courts are open, and there are proconsuls; let them bring charges against one another. But if you seek anything further, it shall be settled in the regular assembly. For we are in danger of being charged with rioting today, there being no cause that we can give to justify this commotion." And when he had said this, he dismissed the assembly. (Acts 19:35-41 RSV)
This town clerk, whose name is not given to us, is an admirable politician and orator. He intervenes at precisely the right psychological moment. The crowd, having exhausted itself with its senseless roaring of the slogan for two hours now, is ready to listen at last. So he stands up to speak, setting forth three logical points. (His first name was probably Spiro.)
These were his points "Yes, Artemis is great; therefore there is no need to shout. We can count on her to defend herself, so why worry? Nobody is going to be able to overthrow a goddess as great as ours, so we don't need all this commotion. "The men that you are charging have really done nothing provocative. They have not blasphemed the goddess; no such charge has been brought against them. They have not robbed the temple, nor been sacrilegious in any way; therefore why handle this matter any differently than through ordinary channels? The courts are open, and if that doesn't satisfy you, the legislature is available. The normal channels of protest are open to you, so why don't you use them? And "We are seriously in danger of losing the freedom of this city as a result of this indiscretion." For he well knew that the Romans would tolerate anything except civil disorder. If an unexplained riot occurred they were in danger of losing their status as a free city, unencumbered by Roman rule. This is the telling point. You can see that this town clerk has nothing more in mind than that which would normally concern a politician -- keeping the peace. He really does not care about the issues. He does not want to examine them. He wants only to keep everything orderly. So he puts a suppressing hand upon the unruliness. Now, that is the way men think. But, in that, God was overruling the wildness of this mob, calming the emotional passions which were surging in the hearts of so many people and were creating this uncontrollable situation. God quieted all this through the use of governmental channels. In the opening verse of Chapter 20, after another of these unbelievably misplaced chapter divisions, you have the final sentence of this story:
After the uproar ceased, Paul sent for the disciples and having exhorted them took leave of them and departed for Macedonia. (Acts 20:1 RSV)
Paul is anxious to explain this whole affair to the Christians. There is something about it he does not want them to miss, so he calls them together and exhorts them before he leaves. Luke does not tell us what that exhortation consisted of, but I believe that Paul does. There is a passage in his second letter to the Corinthians which refers to this very occasion. If you turn to Second Corinthians 1:8, you will see what I mean. Some scholars doubt it, but in my judgment this is clearly a reference to this very occasion. Paul says,
For we do not want you to be ignorant, brethren, of the affliction we experienced in Asia; for we were so utterly, unbearably crushed that we despaired of life itself. (2 Corinthians 1:8 RSV)
Put yourself back with the apostle into the midst of this tremendous uproar. It was a very threatening circumstance. It had appeared for awhile that the gospel had so triumphed in Ephesus that Paul could think of leaving and going on to other places. Then this riot suddenly occurred, seeming to threaten the entire cause of Christ, and putting the Christians in great jeopardy and danger. Paul is crushed and very distressed. In fact, he says his very life is in danger. This crowd is so wild, so uncontrollable that for a few hours it looks as though they might just sweep through the city and wipe out every Christian in Ephesus. Paul expresses it in these terms:
...we were so utterly, unbearably crushed that we despaired of life itself. Why, we felt that we had received the sentence of death... (2 Corinthians 1:8b-9a RSV)
He could not see any way out. It looked as if he had reached the end of the road.
...but that was to make us rely not on ourselves but on God who raises the dead. (2 Corinthians 1:9b RSV)
You see, that is the very heart of the Christian message, as Paul will go on to explain in this letter. "Our sufficiency is not of ourselves," he says (2 Corinthians 3:5). "It is not as though anything is coming from us; our sufficiency is from God. God alone is able. God without anything else, without any reckoning on any human resources, is able." And his explanation to these young converts in Ephesus was unquestionably along this line. He was saying to them, "God has sent this event, has allowed it to happen, in order to teach us that he is able to handle things when they get far beyond any human control. When our circumstances get way out of order, far beyond the resources to which we ordinarily look, God is able. And he has taught us this so that we will not rely on ourselves but upon him who raises the dead, who works in us to do exceedingly abundantly above all that we could ask or think, according to the power at work within us. He goes on to refer to this deliverance:
...he delivered us from so deadly a peril, and he will deliver us; on him we have set our hope that he will deliver us again. You also must help us by prayer, so that many will give thanks on our behalf for the blessing granted us in answer to many prayers. (2 Corinthians 1:10-11 RSV)
What an awareness this apostle had of the fantastic strength of the body of Christ working together, praying together, supporting one another, upholding each other in prayer and thus calling into action the mighty power of the God of resurrection, who can work through the most unexpected instruments to quiet a situation, to hold a crowd in restraint, to stop the surging emotionalism of people whose reasoning has been short-circuited, to hold them within limits and bounds, and to bring the whole affair to nothing! This is the might of our God.
This is what Paul particularly wants us to learn from this very situation, as we too come into times of danger and pressure and trouble. The difficulties which strike suddenly in our lives, the pressures through which we must go, the sudden catastrophes that come roaring in unexpectedly out of the blue -- these are sent in order that we might rely not on ourselves but on God who raises the dead. So Paul sent for the disciples and having exhorted them he took leave of them and departed for Macedonia.
|
English
|
NL
|
dafd1929718486a0d4c27f22b24ffdccaadd4de8ee33b19a3d29229a0c3b0a45
|
The first piece of real estate that Srila Prabhupada was able to obtain was a small storefront in New York’s Lower East side. He wished to open a spiritual centre there. At the time he only had the funds to afford the first month’s rent. He had a few young followers then. When they asked him what they should name the centre, he said, “International Society for Krishna Consciousness”. His followers were dumbstruck. Here was a man who did not know how he was going to pay the rent for the next month. All he had was a storefront. Yet he wanted to call this centre an “International” society. They enquired. Srila Prabhupada replied, “We already have temples and devotees all over the world. There is only one thing that separates us – time!”
Pharmacist by profession, Srila Prabhupada came to the United States of America with a vision. Under the instructions of his guru, he left India at the age of 69 to take his philosophy to the world. He also suffered two heart attacks on the ship while traveling from India to the USA. Landing in a strange foreign country with just 7 dollars in his pocket, he established 108 temples all over the world within a span of 11 years.
One of Srila Prabhupada’s greatest contributions was his books. He is well known for his scholarly translation of sacred Sanskrit texts which were studied, their knowledge passed through the generations in disciplic succession. His books are still widely studied by all who wish to follow in his path and serve as a guide and reference for all his devotees who aspire for spiritual elevation.
While he circled the globe 14 times bringing Krishna Consciousness to people on six continents, he also returned to India several times sparking a revival and interest in the ancient tradition followed by the Gaudiya Vaishnavas. When we hear about the story of Srila Prabhupada it can sometime feel like the world conspired to manifest his vision in those 11 years. And it did. So much so that his disciples were left dumbfounded as things fell in place like a jigsaw puzzle. It was an extraordinary feat. And it was achieved by a man who was no less extraordinary.
|
English
|
NL
|
fbca68d99873a22750ea8de0594e7eec001f87656f74a061f856576b31687a08
|
It was everything that was needed, when everything was needed.
“The best use of literature bends not toward the narrow and the absolute but to the extravagant and the possible.”
from Upstream, by Mary Oliver
In the fourth grade, we received an assignment to write a poem. A few days later, we were to hand in our poems to the teacher, who would look them over that afternoon, and we would then recite them out loud to the class the next day. The morning after handing mine in, my teacher pulled me aside and told me she needed to see me after class; I would not be allowed to read my poem to the rest of the class, that day.
Crestfallen, I listened to the work of my friends, and cheered them on. That afternoon, before getting on the bus, my teacher pulled me aside and asked, “who taught you how to write this?”
I will not pretend that my submission was good, but it was different. Unlike the acrostics, haikus, limericks, and quatrains we were learning about in class and that most of my peers had written, my poem was three pages long, written in sestets with an aabbab rhyme sequence. It was an ode to a young lady in my class—I think her name was Michelle A—where I did not mention her, but instead how the world changed when she entered the room. The imagery was rudimentary and the diction plain, but it was different enough from what we were learning that my teacher was perplexed.
The honest truth was that I had discovered Wordsworth earlier that year and was so impressed by his poetry that I had spent weeks imitating his style. The nuance of his language and much of his content was above my head, but by the time I got around to reading “Lucy Gray,” it did not matter that I did not understand what he was saying, but instead that the musicality of his language was enthralling. I wanted to write poems that sounded like song, and so I attempted to do that in my sprawling three-page ode.
I did end up being allowed to read my poem in class the next day. The subject of the ode was oblivious; she did not see herself in the words, and like the rest of the class, thought me pretentious and too much of a try-hard. They were all right, of course. I didn’t know what I was doing, but instead was trying to impress others with my feeble imitation.
Into my late teens, I continued to write poetry, and was lucky enough to have a few of my pieces printed in small journals and magazines. And then, one day, I stopped. I stopped writing poetry, and I stopped reading it.
Until this year.
“The beauty and strangeness of the world may fill the eyes with its cordial refreshment. Equally it may offer the heart a dish of terror. On one side is radiance; on another is the abyss.”
from Upstream, by Mary Oliver
If we were all taught poetry in school the way that Mary Oliver teaches the art in A Poetry Handbook, we would all be poets today. Yes, there is discussion about meter and rhyme, but Oliver opens the book with an in-depth look at sound, at how the way we read poetry is an aural experience, and how it is that sound that makes poetry resonate—both metaphorically and literally, when read out loud. Reading this chapter, I am reminded of the first time I read Wordsworth, when I was not yet nine years old, and immediately realized that poetry was about the music you heard when you read it, and not about the strict adherence to form that we had been learning in school.
Oliver does remind us that form is important, along with diction, voice, tone, and so much more—that all of these go into the true musicality and resonance of the poem—but opening her handbook with sound was what made my heart stir. This is how I wish I was taught poetry: to learn how sound influenced the soul, and how poetry—how beautiful writing of any kind—could make the spirit flourish.
I have written out this passage from Oliver’s Handbook and left it on my desk as a reminder of what I can do, what I should do, when I write, and what I should listen for, when I read:
Language is rich, and malleable. It is a living, vibrant material, and every part of a poem works in conjunction with every other part—the content, the pace, the diction, the rhythm, the tone—as well as the very sliding, floating, thumping, rapping sounds of it.
I am diving back into poetry this year, and I am looking forward to the sliding, the floating, the thumping, the rapping.
“Writing actually sucks. Like you’re alone in your head for days on end, just wondering if you actually can die of loneliness, just wondering how healthy it is to make all this shit up, and just wondering if you did actually make this shit up, or if you just copied down your life or worse someone else’s life, or maybe you’re just feeding your delusions and neuroses and then advertising it to whoever reads your drivel.”
from This Accident of Being Lost, by Leanne Betasamosake Simpson
My colleague and friend Adie was the first to hand me her copy of Leanne Betasamosake Simpson’s Islands of Decolonial Love. It sat on my bookshelf for a few weeks, but once I picked it up, I could not put it down. Instead, when I had turned its final page, I quickly went on to read Simpson’s follow-up, This Accident of Being Lost, which was just as enthralling.
Most of the poetry we grew up reading was by white people, white men in particular. Eventually, in my late teens, I learned of Latin American poets like Gabriela Mistral and Pablo Neruda, and of Middle Eastern poets like el-Fagommi and Rasha Omran, but still, my exposure to poetry was still defined by the Western “classics.”
Simpson’s collections remind me that there is another view onto the world, that poetry is not just art or craft but also a reflection of life, an expression of emotion and vulnerability and questioning. It can be raw and incisive, and in Simpson’s writing, it most often is:
If I had ten minutes alone with you, I’d tell you that I love you. I’d tell you not to be scared, because it’s the kind of love that doesn’t want anything or need anything. It’s the kind of love that just sits there and envelops whoever you are or whoever you want to be. It doesn’t demand. It isn’t a commodity. It doesn’t threaten all the other people you love. It doesn’t fuck up and it doesn’t fuck things up. It’s loyal. It’s willing to feel hurt. It’s willing to exist on shifting terms. It’s willing to stay anyway. It doesn’t want. It’s just there. It’s just there and good and given freely, sewing up the holes unassumingly because it’s the only thing to do. There is so much space around it and the space shimmers.
When I was young, poetry was presented to me in one way. Now that I am re-immersing myself, I am excited to find the other paths through verse—the paths carved by people whose voices were often silenced and definitely need to be heard.
Then there is dissatisfaction,
the flesh, the heart and the soul,
and most especially the mind.
There I always an antagonised ideal
in this antagonistic world:
there is always a craving desire
to satisfy the flesh,
the heart, the soul
and most especially the mind.
And one never gets all
and there is always dissatisfaction.
from “Then there is dissatisfaction” by Manga J. Kingazi Mmgaha, in Summons: Poems from Tanzania
Early this year, I received a parcel in the mail. In it, a copy of Summons: Poems from Tanzania, and a note from a new friend I had made in the fall. In her note, she remarked upon a conversation we had when we first met, where I told her that I was born in Tanzania, and that she told me that she had worked in East Africa, many years ago at the start of her career, and still held a fondness for the region. The collection of poems was one of the mementos she had kept from her time there, and it was now mine to have.
It is a modest collection, and I did not connect with every piece, but it got me thinking: why is poetry not an appropriate way to learn about our own history? How can we discover who we are and from whence we came through verse—and why do we not do this more often?
There is a timbre of voice
that comes from not being heard
and knowing you are not being
heard noticed only
by others not heard
for the same reason.
from “Echoes” by Audre Lorde, in The Marvelous Arithmetics of Distance
In elementary school, I learned that poetry was about beauty. I learned that a poem was written to extol, to recognize, to celebrate. We were given odes and sonnets to read, each talking about love and joy and sometimes heartbreak, but beautiful heartbreak. We weren’t taught that sometimes, poetry comes of anger, of despair, of rebellion, of revolt. We were taught that we could express the range of human emotion through verse, but then were driven towards only the emotions that echoed with pleasantness.
We were not taught that poetry was a way to speak truth to power. It took me far too long to realize this.
I finally understood this when I picked up Claudia Rankine’s Citizen: An American Lyric and read the now iconic but painfully true stanza:
because white men can’t
police their imagination
black men are dying
Rankine’s Citizen is filled with vignettes, prose poems that punch you in the gut while you read them. They are not the poems of my elementary school days: they hurt, enrage, fill you with anguish. They are often harrowing, but they are exactly what we all must read in order to understand our current era. At times, we feel as though these are words used as weapons, verses used as bludgeons, emptiness on the page used as pauses to reflect and recover from the blows.
I am currently reading Audre Lorde’s The Marvelous Arithmetics of Distance. Like Rankine does in Citizen, Lorde speaks of a life lived as a Black woman, and speaks the truth of all the joys and pains of that experience.
They are both speaking truth to power. They are both making sure we sit up and listen, and ideally, do something about the injustices they reference. They are using poetry to enlighten, to incite, to create change; they do this with power, with strength, and with beauty.
Perhaps my elementary school teachers were right: poetry is about beauty. They were just wrong in telling us what beauty could look like once it was in verse.
“First and foremost, I learned from Whitman that the poem is a temple—or a green field—a place to enter, and in which to feel. Only in a secondary way is it an intellectual thing—an artificial, a moment of seemly and robust wordiness—wonderful as that part of it is. I learned that the poem was made not just to exist, but to speak—to be company. It was everything that was needed, when everything was needed.”
from Upstream, by Mary Oliver
I am reading poetry, now, after many years away. I am not writing it just yet, but I am told by friends that it is inevitable that the more I read, the more I will be besieged by the desire to write. (I will perhaps hold off on writing three-page odes until I have had much more practice.)
For now, I am allowing myself to be enveloped by verse.
For now, I am allowing myself to listen to the sliding, the floating, the thumping, the rapping.
For now, I am allowing myself to see a poem as a place to enter, a place in which to feel.
For now, I am rediscovering poetry, and through it, rediscovering myself.
“Poetry is a river; many voices travel in it; poem after poem moves along in the exciting crests and falls of the river waves. None is timeless; each arrives in an historical context; almost everything, in the end, passes. But the desire to make a poem, and the world’s willingness to receive it—indeed, the world’s need of it—these will never pass.”
from A Poetry Handbook, by Mary Oliver
|
English
|
NL
|
621f4d15421f91d0bc0b92d8b822910e1dd1937242461119b41c61c67615678e
|
Born on November 1908 in Sambor, Poland, Pankiewicz went to university in Krakow and took over the "Under the Eagle" pharmacy in 1933 that his father founded in 1910. Before World War II, both Jewish and non-Jewish patients used the pharmacy.
When he and the other non-Jewish Kraków ghetto dwellers were ordered to leave in 1941 by the Nazis, Pankiewicz persuaded the Nazis to permit him to stay. His pharmacy soon became a hiding place for Jews and a clearing house for information about possible escape routes.
In addition to his pharmacy, he operated a secret vault beneath the pharmacy where Torahs and other Jewish artifacts were stored. It is widely believed that he was the only Polish non-Jew to survive the German destruction of the ghetto in 1943.
In 1947 he published his account of the two and a half years the shop was open, and at the Nuremberg Trials he was a prosecution witness.
After the war, he returned to work as a pharmacist and only retired in the 1980s.
He died in 1993 of kidney failure and was survived by his wife, Selena.
|
English
|
NL
|
9165a1c2a482e92fd4631981b357ae67d5ee9c998b7c278d2427bde838d70e8a
|
The Apostles are often called Disciples in the Gospel books.
Gospel of John verses:
John 1:35 Again the next day after John stood, and two of his disciples.
John 1:37 And the two disciples heard him speak, and they followed Jesus.
John 2:2 And both Jesus was called, and his disciples, to the marriage.
John 2:11-12 This beginning of miracles did Jesus in Cana of Galilee, and manifested forth his glory; and his disciples believed on him. 12 After this he went down to Capernaum, he, and his mother, and his brethren, and his disciples: and they continued there not many days.
John 2:17 And his disciples remembered that it was written, The zeal of thine house hath eaten me up.
John 2:22 When therefore he was risen from the dead, his disciples remembered that he had said this unto them; and they believed the scripture, and the word which Jesus had said.
John 3:22 After these things came Jesus and his disciples into the land of Judaea; and there he tarried with them, and baptized.
John 3:25 Then there arose a question between some of John's disciples and the Jews about purifying.
John 4:1-2 When therefore the Lord knew how the Pharisees had heard that Jesus made and baptized more disciples than John. 2 (Though Jesus himself baptized not, but his disciples,)
John 4:8 (For his disciples were gone away unto the city to buy meat.)
John 4:27 And upon this came his disciples, and marvelled that he talked with the woman: yet no man said, What seekest thou? or, Why talkest thou with her?
John 4:31 In the mean while his disciples prayed him, saying, Master, eat.
John 4:33 Therefore said the disciples one to another, Hath any man brought him ought to eat?
John 6:3 And Jesus went up into a mountain, and there he sat with his disciples.
John 6:8 One of his disciples, Andrew, Simon Peter's brother, saith unto him.
John 6:11-12 And Jesus took the loaves; and when he had given thanks, he distributed to the disciples, and the disciples to them that were set down; and likewise of the fishes as much as they would. 12 When they were filled, he said unto his disciples, Gather up the fragments that remain, that nothing be lost.
John 6:16 And when even was now come, his disciples went down unto the sea.
John 6:22 The day following, when the people which stood on the other side of the sea saw that there was none other boat there, save that one whereinto his disciples were entered, and that Jesus went not with his disciples into the boat, but that his disciples were gone away alone.
John 6:24 When the people therefore saw that Jesus was not there, neither his disciples, they also took shipping, and came to Capernaum, seeking for Jesus.
John 6:60-61 Many therefore of his disciples, when they had heard this, said, This is an hard saying; who can hear it? 61 When Jesus knew in himself that his disciples murmured at it, he said unto them, Doth this offend you?
John 6:66 From that time many of his disciples went back, and walked no more with him.
John 7:3 His brethren therefore said unto him, Depart hence, and go into Judaea, that thy disciples also may see the works that thou doest.
John 8:31 Then said Jesus to those Jews which believed on him, If ye continue in my word, then are ye my disciples indeed.
John 9:2 And his disciples asked him, saying, Master, who did sin, this man, or his parents, that he was born blind?
John 9:27-28 He answered them, I have told you already, and ye did not hear: wherefore would ye hear it again? will ye also be his disciples? 28 Then they reviled him, and said, Thou art his disciple; but we are Moses' disciples.
John 11:7-8 Then after that saith he to his disciples, Let us go into Judaea again. 8 His disciples say unto him, Master, the Jews of late sought to stone thee; and goest thou thither again?
John 11:12 Then said his disciples, Lord, if he sleep, he shall do well.
John 11:54 Jesus therefore walked no more openly among the Jews; but went thence unto a country near to the wilderness, into a city called Ephraim, and there continued with his disciples.
John 12:4 Then saith one of his disciples, Judas Iscariot, Simon's son, which should betray him.
John 12:16 These things understood not his disciples at the first: but when Jesus was glorified, then remembered they that these things were written of him, and that they had done these things unto him.
John 13:5 After that he poureth water into a bason, and began to wash the disciples' feet, and to wipe them with the towel wherewith he was girded.
John 13:22-23 Then the disciples looked one on another, doubting of whom he spake. 23 Now there was leaning on Jesus' bosom one of his disciples, whom Jesus loved.
John 13:35 By this shall all men know that ye are my disciples, if ye have love one to another.
John 15:8 Herein is my Father glorified, that ye bear much fruit; so shall ye be my disciples.
John 16:17 Then said some of his disciples among themselves, What is this that he saith unto us, A little while, and ye shall not see me: and again, a little while, and ye shall see me: and, Because I go to the Father?
John 16:29 His disciples said unto him, Lo, now speakest thou plainly, and speakest no proverb.
John 18:1-2 When Jesus had spoken these words, he went forth with his disciples over the brook Cedron, where was a garden, into the which he entered, and his disciples. 2 And Judas also, which betrayed him, knew the place: for Jesus ofttimes resorted thither with his disciples.
John 18:15-17 And Simon Peter followed Jesus, and so did another disciple: that disciple was known unto the high priest, and went in with Jesus into the palace of the high priest. 16 But Peter stood at the door without. Then went out that other disciple, which was known unto the high priest, and spake unto her that kept the door, and brought in Peter. 17 Then saith the damsel that kept the door unto Peter, Art not thou also one of this man's disciples? He saith, I am not.
John 18:19 The high priest then asked Jesus of his disciples, and of his doctrine.
John 18:25-26 And Simon Peter stood and warmed himself. They said therefore unto him, Art not thou also one of his disciples? He denied it, and said, I am not. 26 When Jesus therefore saw his mother, and the disciple standing by, whom he loved, he saith unto his mother, Woman, behold thy son!
John 19:27 Then saith he to the disciple, Behold thy mother! And from that hour that disciple took her unto his own home.
John 19:38 And after this Joseph of Arimathaea, being a disciple of Jesus, but secretly for fear of the Jews, besought Pilate that he might take away the body of Jesus: and Pilate gave him leave. He came therefore, and took the body of Jesus.
John 20:2-4 Then she runneth, and cometh to Simon Peter, and to the other disciple, whom Jesus loved, and saith unto them, They have taken away the Lord out of the sepulchre, and we know not where they have laid him. 3 Peter therefore went forth, and that other disciple, and came to the sepulchre. 4 So they ran both together: and the other disciple did outrun Peter, and came first to the sepulchre.
John 20:8 Then went in also that other disciple, which came first to the sepulchre, and he saw, and believed.
John 20:10 Then the disciples went away again unto their own home.
John 20:18-20 Mary Magdalene came and told the disciples that she had seen the Lord, and that he had spoken these things unto her. 19 Then the same day at evening, being the first day of the week, when the doors were shut where the disciples were assembled for fear of the Jews, came Jesus and stood in the midst, and saith unto them, Peace be unto you. 20 And when he had so said, he shewed unto them his hands and his side. Then were the disciples glad, when they saw the Lord.
John 20:25-26 The other disciples therefore said unto him, We have seen the Lord. But he said unto them, Except I shall see in his hands the print of the nails, and put my finger into the print of the nails, and thrust my hand into his side, I will not believe. 26 And after eight days again his disciples were within, and Thomas with them: then came Jesus, the doors being shut, and stood in the midst, and said, Peace be unto you.
John 20:30 And many other signs truly did Jesus in the presence of his disciples, which are not written in this book.
John 21:1-8 After these things Jesus shewed himself again to the disciples at the sea of Tiberias; and on this wise shewed he himself. 2 There were together Simon Peter, and Thomas called Didymus, and Nathanael of Cana in Galilee, and the sons of Zebedee, and two other of his disciples. 3 Simon Peter saith unto them, I go a fishing. They say unto him, We also go with thee. They went forth, and entered into a ship immediately; and that night they caught nothing. 4 But when the morning was now come, Jesus stood on the shore: but the disciples knew not that it was Jesus. 5 Then Jesus saith unto them, Children, have ye any meat? They answered him, No. 6 And he said unto them, Cast the net on the right side of the ship, and ye shall find. They cast therefore, and now they were not able to draw it for the multitude of fishes. 7 Therefore that disciple whom Jesus loved saith unto Peter, It is the Lord. Now when Simon Peter heard that it was the Lord, he girt his fisher's coat unto him, (for he was naked,) and did cast himself into the sea. 8 And the other disciples came in a little ship; (for they were not far from land, but as it were two hundred cubits,) dragging the net with fishes.
John 21:12 Jesus saith unto them, Come and dine. And none of the disciples durst ask him, Who art thou? knowing that it was the Lord.
John 21:14 This is now the third time that Jesus shewed himself to his disciples, after that he was risen from the dead.
John 21:20 Then Peter, turning about, seeth the disciple whom Jesus loved following; which also leaned on his breast at supper, and said, Lord, which is he that betrayeth thee?
John 21:23-24 Then went this saying abroad among the brethren, that that disciple should not die: yet Jesus said not unto him, He shall not die; but, If I will that he tarry till I come, what is that to thee? 24 This is the disciple which testifieth of these things, and wrote these things: and we know that his testimony is true.
Matthew 10:24 The disciple = a pupil. above. Greek. huper. master = teacher. App-98.
Matthew 10:4 servant = bondservant. lord = master.
E.W. Bullinger's Companion Bible Notes
|
English
|
NL
|
d3dce6b73cfc83a7629007e4f47eb81d959497920c58ee566c845ba780d3df8e
|
A pornographic exhibition
Giorgione did it. Titian and Manet did it. And now donhofer. has done it!
Giorgione painted "Sleeping Venus", Titian "Venus of Urbino" and Manet started a scandal with "Olympia". In Manet's painting the model looks right into the eyes of the beholder – meaning the viewer becomes a voyeur.
donhofer. also plays with the terms of voyeurism in his exhibition "Olympia Gold". The painting, done with "Edding" on acryl glass, is divided into four parts, covered with a solid steel frame which looks like a window. The beholder looks through it.
At the opening donhofer's. painting was covered with red cloth. The artist performed a two hour lasting freeze, where the audience was able to observe him. Then he uncovered "Olympia Gold." and a young girl in only her underwear entered the room. After total darkness in the exhibition hall, the painting began to glow itself.
|
English
|
NL
|
8a99701993b62b41fcca9407943e7488adf9d87ea4c495c0e98fab4ecd9d5c50
|
It was the second day that I had come. The first day had not been for you. I had not known you were there. How could I have known as I rushed in to get out of the rain, arms up clutching a newspaper which I used to shelter my head? It only resulted in the drips trickling down my sleeves and forming uncomfortable puddles in the cups of my armpits. But there you were as I wiped the steam from my glasses and looked up. Milk skinned and flustered with eyes so huge and green I could see my entire face replicated in them like an alien twin, I was fascinated and pulled different expressions in the reflections until I remembered I did not know you and ordered a cherry coke and turned away.
I sat at the table in the corner and watched you, you looked tired. I wanted to soak your hands in warm water and ask how your day was and wrap you in rugs from my floor.
I stayed until my coke was flat, until closing time, until I realised I was the only one left and you had not come out from the kitchen in 15 minutes. Then suddenly I saw you, with that denim jacket with badges on it, hair undone, looking stern as you crossed the road, and I felt cheated and the curves of my heart became heavy as I watched you go.
The second day I came prepared. I had dressed up for the occasion, carefully stepping between the crepe paper lanterns that litter the floor of my flat. I thought about you as I weaved in between them listening as they flickered and whispered in the breeze I created with my passing.
I went to the bathroom and dressed, slowly, carefully. I felt the cotton of my vest brush loosely against my skin. I took comfort in the gentle pressure, like a tiny hug as I tightened my laces and tied them into neat bows. I shaved. Firm upward strokes paving their way between the whiteness of foam that made me think of the snowploughs in winter in the country where we used to live. My dad yelling as we got stuck behind them and my mother staring out of the window without moving. I thought it was a game we played so I stayed like her, as still as a statue, trying not to breathe, until I spilt my juice on my lap and both my parents turned round and scolded me together.
So I was prepared when I came to see you that second day, but when I entered with the tinkle of the bell, I turned inside out, I felt as though my skin was tracing paper and my flesh and my heart were on the outside, dripping carelessly on the polished oak as you looked up and closed your book and smiled.
I ordered a cherry coke and sat by the window, not daring to look with my nerves so exposed, so I turned my back to you and stared out to the ocean where a sail boat drifted loosely on its surface. I imagined us there the wind making our cheeks pink and thieving tears from our eyes and carrying them away -tiny balls of salt and water, to mix with the sea.
The table cloth was paper. You gave come crayons to the kids with the weary mum two tables down from me. She looked so grateful when you did this that she touched your wrist. And when she looked up at you and said ‘thank you’ she really meant it, and you did not look away when you said ‘no problem,’ and you did not pull your wrist away from her touch.
I watched the children bent in right angles scribbling mercilessly onto the paper, they were drawing animals. There was a pig that was grinning and kicking his legs –with the white of the table as the backdrop it was as though it was floating through the clouds. A snake slithered between two glasses toward a ketchup stain; it looked like it was chasing blood.
‘Can I get you anything else?’ your hand rested on my shoulder and I flinched. You removed it immediately and I loathed myself in that moment more than ever before. My tongue was a dandelion and the words came out in feathers, stuttery and slow ‘Another coke please’ was all I could manage.
When your back was turned I stole a crayon from the table with the kids. ‘Shamrock green’ was the shade so it told me, the label was torn at the edges and the tip was blunt. I drew myself as an alien reflected in your eyes and wrote my number next to it with such careful precision so there was no way you could make a mistake and get it wrong.
You placed the coke beside me clumsily. I watched in slow motion as the liquid flopped in a perfect drop onto my crayon alien head which did its best to resist the fizz with waxy fortitude. You looked at me mortified. I jumped up, and tried to hastily rip the part of the table cloth with my number on it away from your gaze, in doing so the rest of the drink tumbled over, and my alien self faded and drowned in the sea of bubbles and sweetness. I ripped the damp paper from the table uncovering the stained plastic beneath and quickly stuffed it into the pocket of my jeans.
‘ I’m sorry’ was the murmur that came from both of our lips and the bell tinkled and mocked my departure.
And when I got home I made a lantern just for you in greens of lime and grass and sea. I hung it from my ceiling and I lay on my back on the floor watching as it swayed back and forth in a cruel and terrible dance.
|
English
|
NL
|
01ee07be4e06c3377196b555f9aa9f4e299ab2b6ac3237be821581112741f00d
|
Once when the snow of the year was beginning to fall,
We stopped by a mountain pasture to say 'Whose colt?'
A little Morgan had one forefoot on the wall,
The other curled at his breast. He dipped his head
And snorted at us. And then he had to bolt.
We heard the miniature thunder where he fled,
And we saw him, or thought we saw him, dim and grey,
Like a shadow against the curtain of falling flakes.
'I think the little fellow's afraid of the snow.
He isn't winter-broken. It isn't play
With the little fellow at all. He's running away.
I doubt if even his mother could tell him, "Sakes,
It's only weather". He'd think she didn't know !
Where is his mother? He can't be out alone.'
And now he comes again with a clatter of stone
And mounts the wall again with whited eyes
And all his tail that isn't hair up straight.
He shudders his coat as if to throw off flies.
'Whoever it is that leaves him out so late,
When other creatures have gone to stall and bin,
Ought to be told to come and take him in.'
|
English
|
NL
|
2d081d7eae0e49035bbc015a88eb4466f74a8c6d7093bdb3b9f1fdd761eedd47
|
Merritt Jr (1864-1923)
Michael Jr married Cecelia Cavanaugh on Sept 9th, 1886. They have a child Winifred in 1888, and a son Edmond in 1892. In 1900, Michael owns and farms the land in Pioneer Township, Cedar County, where he continues to farm with his son Edmund until his death in 1923. According to his obit, he died on the farm he was born on.
His daughter Winifred married Leo Crock in 1913, and they have two children, Francis J in 1917 and Mary Rose in 1924. Leo was a farmer. The Crock’s donated the land for the current St Mary’s Church in Mechanicsville, where Winnie played the organ.
His son Edmund married Genevieve Smyth on Jan 29th, 1924, but she died with his infant daughter on Feb 1st, 1925. Edmund remarried Fay Burk on Oct 5th 1927, but died the following year after 4 days of pneumonia. According to his obit, "A large number of friends and neighbors were obliged to remain outside during funeral services as the churches seating capacity was taxed to its utmost". Father Merritt Fairley officiated at the funeral.
Fay was pregnant at the time of Edmund’s death, and later gave birth to a son Edmund Jr, on March 15th, 1929. According to Edmund Jr’s obit, he was a lifelong invalid, and was tutored by his aunt. He died at the age of 39 in 1969. He and his mother are buried at the Catholic cemetery in Tipton, where they lived with her father and sister.
Micheal and Cecelia Merritt and Edmund and Genevieve and baby are buried in Row 3W in the Rose Hill Cemetery in Mechanicsville, IA.
|
English
|
NL
|
e0146bc648068075ddd09291a2d0c835b8448f502b5a8556a9e096df7be4c7e3
|
My next-door neighbor stood on our porch. He was angry and accusing.
While he'd been away, we had unknowingly put up a playset on his property. He was sure we had put it there on purpose. With a curt ultimatum, he stormed off, giving me no opportunity to explain the error.
I held my temper for those few minutes. But that self-control wasn't enough to neutralize the rush of indignation that I felt, or to erase the frustration over our having made such a senseless mistake.
Clearly the playset needed to be moved. But I knew only a change in thinking would resolve the ill will that the situation had created.
Feeling the need to get some perspective on the whole episode, I prayed. I sought to know how to reclaim the neighborly feelings of kindness, generosity, and goodwill.
Jesus' words "Love your enemies" (Matt. 5:44) came to thought. His counsel continues, "Bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you, and persecute you."
How did Jesus expect people to act on these teachings? Reading further, I found his final statement: "Be ye therefore perfect, even as your Father which is in heaven is perfect" (5:48).
Perfect. Was Jesus really demanding that we be "entirely without fault or defect"? It seemed impossible - and way too late! The mistake had been made, the angry words spoken.
In a conundrum like this, I've found that prayer that includes spiritual reasoning can really help. Mine went something like this:
"God is unchanging, omnipotent, good. He is infinite Mind, the origin of all wisdom and intelligence. He is also the divine Principle, the governing power of every detail of His creation. And He is boundless Love, the ever-present source of gentleness and affection between His sons and daughters."
Each of us, made in God's image, receives goodness, wisdom, integrity, and care, direct from Him. These spiritual qualities, and so many others, are perpetual, never ebbing or interrupted. So each of us - I, my neighbor, everyone - must already be flawless, complete, pure in God's sight. In this view there was no need to attain perfection. We already embodied it, and always had.
Solid reasoning. But completely at odds with the circumstances at hand. I had a compelling choice: accept the appearances - two humans at loggerheads - or accept our spiritual perfection as God's children. In the words of Monitor founder Mary Baker Eddy, " 'Love one another' (I John, iii. 23), is the most simple and profound counsel of the inspired writer. In Science we are children of God; but whatever is of material sense, or mortal, belongs not to His children, for materiality is the inverted image of spirituality" ("Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures," pg. 572).
Praying some more, I found I could easily refuse to act on ideas that would only bring more inharmony. Pondering how God had made me to be perfect made it natural to reject anything less. Good qualities filled my thoughts, to the exclusion of unworthy ones.
And I was immediately rewarded: all the animosity I was feeling went away. In that moment, no enemy remained. In fact, I was able to forgive not only my neighbor but also myself.
There was a postscript to this. As our family went about relocating the playset, we had to move large quantities of sand. It was a slow process. And before we could finish, there was a knock at our front door.
It was our neighbor. He was obviously unhappy with our progress. And I felt a momentary flash of anger. Firmly, though, I refused the old reactions a place in my thoughts and went to meet him with my hand outstretched. As I spoke to him in friendship, all residual hostility faded from his face. We talked amicably for a few minutes and parted, laying the entire situation to rest. I've thought often of how prayer softened and sweetened things that day on my porch.
When we turn in prayer to divine Love, God quietly and surely dispels intransigence, self-righteousness, coldness - every enemy to the generosity of spirit with which He endows us. In a heart filled with love, not a single hard feeling can remain.
(c) Copyright 1999. The Christian Science Publishing Society
|
English
|
NL
|
eb2220447f9bd19f4fbcc1cd8b91178ca1f700a7c4ab5fc37cd570f2c490b20f
|
It is 50 years since Richard Hoggart, a newly appointed professor of English at Birmingham University, asked me to come to Birmingham and help him develop a research centre that would be concerned with studying popular cultural forms. Like lots of people on the left at that time, I was deeply impressed with The Uses of Literacy, Hoggart's famous book on working-class cultures. Along with a friend, I had just published my own book that tried to address similar themes. I was teaching part-time in London, but was at something of a loose end. It didn't take me long to decide to take up Hoggart's invitation. After much deliberation, we eventually decided that we would call ourselves the Centre for Contemporary Cultural Studies.
The catalogue, and the exhibition it accompanies, represent an attempt to reflect on the relevance of the centre's vast body of work, 50 years on. In the early days, Hoggart, myself and the talented postgraduate students we began to recruit were all involved in a sort of shared experiment. We wanted to research "mass culture" – magazines, for example, Hollywood films or popular television programmes. But this was a subject that was often looked down on by academics, many of whom thought that their focus should be solely on "high" culture, what was regarded as the "best that has been thought and said". There was no pre-existing programme for the study of the kind of things that ordinary people listened to, watched and read in their daily lives. So together we set about trying to work out what we would do, and how. We were attempting to make up, almost on a week-to-week basis, something that today has become widely known as "cultural studies".
The artists featured in this collection are not working in "cultural studies" – not formally, at any rate. Like all good artists, however, they are engaged with the political and cultural contexts of their time. A great deal has changed since we began our experiment five decades ago, but as the work of these artists demonstrate, the kind of questions we were interested in remain pertinent. Why, for example, are women represented in the media in the way they are? What is the significance of how a person chooses to present themselves to the world stylistically? What do anxieties over ethnic and other minorities say about British society more generally? Through a variety of mediums and using a range of approaches, the artists featured in this collection are united by a shared interest in the world around them and their own place in it. Their work takes subjects that may on first glance appear familiar and challenges you to take a second look.
I spent 15 years at the centre, working alongside people I regarded not merely as colleagues but as friends, political allies and intellectual interlocutors. Despite the best efforts of staff, students and well-wishers, cultural studies at Birmingham was closed in 2002. Yet as a field of study, it has expanded and – in different guises – has spread around the world in a way it would have been impossible to envisage in 1964. In this exhibition, the ongoing necessity of serious engagement with contemporary culture, in all its complex and changing forms, is vividly illustrated. As Bob Marley once put it: "Don't give up the fight."
Stuart Hall, January 2014
The exhibition 50 Years On: The Centre for Contemporary Cultural Studies runs from 10 May-27 June at the Midlands Arts Centre. There will also be a conference at the university, 24-25 June.
|
English
|
NL
|
9345bc46d8bc9a28c7a3fe13c0929a3e6c1bc8887aaf8ba244df1b3f175ec816
|
1: The word which came to Jeremiah from the Lord, saying, 2: The Lord, the God of Israel, has said, Put down in a book all the words which I have said to you. 3: For see, the days are coming, says the Lord, when I will let the fate of my people Israel and Judah be changed, says the Lord: and I will make them come back to the land which I gave to their fathers, so that they may take it for their heritage. 4: And these are the words which the Lord said about Israel and about Judah. 5: This is what the Lord has said: A voice of shaking fear has come to our ears, of fear and not of peace. 6: Put the question and see if it is possible for a man to have birth-pains: why do I see every man with his hands gripping his sides, as a woman does when the pains of birth are on her, and all faces are turned green? 7: Ha! for that day is so great that there is no day like it: it is the time of Jacob's trouble: but he will get salvation from it. 8: For it will come about on that day, says the Lord of armies, that his yoke will be broken off his neck, and his bands will be burst; and men of strange lands will no longer make use of him as their servant: 9: But they will be servants to the Lord their God and to David their king, whom I will give back to them. 10: So have no fear, O Jacob, my servant, says the Lord; and do not be troubled, O Israel: for see, I will make you come back from far away, and your seed from the land where they are prisoners; and Jacob will come back, and will be quiet and at peace, and no one will give him cause for fear. 11: For I am with you, says the Lord, to be your saviour: for I will put an end to all the nations where I have sent you wandering, but I will not put an end to you completely: though with wise purpose I will put right your errors, and will not let you go quite without punishment. 12: For the Lord has said, Your disease may not be made well and your wound is bitter. 13: There is no help for your wound, there is nothing to make you well. 14: Your lovers have no more thought for you, they go after you no longer; for I have given you the wound of a hater, even cruel punishment; 15: Why are you crying for help because of your wound? for your pain may never be taken away: because your evil-doing was so great and because your sins were increased, I have done these things to you. 16: For this cause, all those who take you for their food will themselves become your food; and all your attackers, every one of them, will be taken prisoners; and those who send destruction on you will come to destruction; and all those who take away your goods by force will undergo the same themselves. 17: For I will make you healthy again and I will make you well from your wounds, says the Lord; because they have given you the name of an outlaw, saying, It is Zion cared for by no man. 18: The Lord has said, See, I am changing the fate of the tents of Jacob, and I will have pity on his houses; the town will be put up on its hill, and the great houses will be living-places again. 19: And from them will go out praise and the sound of laughing: and I will make them great in number, and they will not become less; and I will give them glory, and they will not be small. 20: And their children will be as they were in the old days, and the meeting of the people will have its place before me, and I will send punishment on all who are cruel to them. 21: And their chief will be of their number; their ruler will come from among themselves; and I will let him be present before me, so that he may come near to me: for who may have strength of heart to come near me? says the Lord. 22: And you will be my people, and I will be your God. 23: See, the storm-wind of the Lord, even the heat of his wrath, has gone out, a rolling storm, bursting on the heads of the evil-doers. 24: The wrath of the Lord will not be turned back till he has done, till he has put into effect, the purposes of his heart: in days to come you will have full knowledge of this.
|
English
|
NL
|
22af41815667f013e8c2a2a4dc6fc2adb9b9eaf5f294da0ee4fba9a2e8931333
|
Joseph Woodson Whitesell
Photographer Pops Whitesell was a universally popular figure among his neighbors in the French Quarter, high society clientele, celebrities from the world of arts and letters, and fellow photographers.
Doseph Woodson “Pops” Whitesell, born in Libertyville, Indiana, on February 11, 1876, came to New Orleans in 1918 and made the city his permanent home. Whitesell’s photography achieved international recognition in professional salon exhibitions. In 1947, he was the ninth most exhibited salon photographer in the world. According to articles published in his lifetime, a charming demeanor and impish appearance made him a universally popular figure among his neighbors in the French Quarter, high society clientele, celebrities from the world of arts and letters, and fellow photographers. His studio at 726 St. Peter Street, in the outbuilding behind what would become Preservation Hall, was always alive with visitors, conversation, and photographic activities.
After establishing his French Quarter studio in 1921, Whitesell enjoyed a successful practice concentrating on portraiture. His sitters included debutantes, Mardi Gras royalty, and wedding parties. Whitesell was not only adept in the lighting of a single portrait subject or character study, he was also acclaimed for staging and effectively lighting groups of eight people or more within the confines of the studio. It is for such efforts that his work was exhibited throughout the world, and acquired by museums, such as Washington, D.C.’s Smithsonian Institution, for permanent collections. Whitesell’s peer recognition was underscored by his memberships in the Photographic Society of America (where he was designated a Fellow), the Professional Photographers Association (achieving the pinnacle title Master Photographer), and Great Britain’s Royal Photographic Society. In 1946 the Smithsonian Institution mounted an exhibition of fifty-eight of his prints.
Once his mature style of carefully lit portraiture was established, Whitesell maintained it until his death. Softly focused subjects, richly toned prints, and retouching that flattered his sitters were techniques that he employed even on the streets of the French Quarter. In addition to traditional silver-based prints, Whitesell occasionally produced bromoil transfer prints. The basis for such work always originated with a photograph, but the final product had the appearance of a lithograph or aquatint engraving. His image of the Arsenal, a building adjacent to the Cabildo on St. Peter Street in the French Quarter, is an example of this technique.
In the early 1950s, an infection in his leg that went untreated for too long resulted in the limb’s amputation. Though confined to a wheelchair, Whitesell continued to print photographs, but at a much diminished pace. Daniel S. Leyrer — a photographer whose studio and apartment were in the same building as Whitesell’s — along with friends and admirers, assisted and comforted Whitesell until his death on February 18, 1958, a week following his eighty-second birthday. His remains were sent to Indiana for burial. What remained of Whitesell’s negative archive was donated to Tulane University in New Orleans in 1978.
|
English
|
NL
|
e203ace60970c40106bce40a12894f84e3750097d063fba7f384ffb6ee3cefd2
|
These were new neighbors, mostly just nodding acquaintances over the south fence line. But the wife was a social creature who had been uprooted from her friends and moved thirty miles into the country by her husband's retirement dreams. As soon as I introduced myself, she was ready for a new friendship.
He, on the other hand, was a bit aloof and quite full of himself, quick and eager to list his life's accomplishments, most of which involved making money, and we didn't have any so we couldn't be too important. Still, she had talked enough about us to him that he knew the basics.
I had traipsed through the woods one morning for a cup of coffee, and as we sat there, he came in from an early morning golf foursome. To his credit, he sat down for a bit of conversation.
"Did you see the movie…" he began, but quickly stopped and amended, "Oh no, you're a Christian. You wouldn't have seen that movie."
That has stuck with me for years. Too many times I hear my brethren arguing about what is or isn't a sin. Most of the time, it's something one of them wants to do, or already is participating in that the other one has questioned. Isn't it odd that the world knows exactly what a Christian ought not to be doing while some Christians seem mystified?
Of course I understand that "what the world thinks" is NOT to be our barometer of authority. But Paul told the Corinthian church they were accepting something "that is not even tolerated among the Gentiles," 1 Cor 5:1. When he lists the works of the flesh in Gal 5:19-21, he begins with, "The works of the flesh are obvious," and ends with "and anything similar." The way some argue, you would think that what is and isn't appropriate behavior for a Christian is some nebulous, hard to decipher principle. God, through his apostle, says that anyone with an ounce of brainpower can figure it out.
What does it say about us when we cannot?
“Therefore thus says the LORD: Ask among the nations, Who has heard the like of this? The virgin Israel has done a very horrible thing. Does the snow of Lebanon leave the crags of Sirion? Do the mountain waters run dry, the cold flowing streams? But my people have forgotten me; they make offerings to false gods; they made them stumble in their ways, in the ancient roads, and to walk into side roads, not the highway, making their land a horror, a thing to be hissed at forever. Everyone who passes by it is horrified and shakes his head. (Jer 18:13-16)
|
English
|
NL
|
25d100f7ec5aaaa29f994067f5596aef76edad74774ded5b82600898029ee930
|
Meet Author Tamala Callaway
Tamala Callaway is married and a mother of two daughters. She became intrigued with storytelling when her girls were very young. Upon a dare from her oldest daughter, she began to write her first book, New Beginnings, which ultimately became a seven-part novel series (SuperNatural).
Her family became positive that she could no doubt accomplish other genres as well, and Hostile Contact became her next project. The idea for this book came from her brother playing a practical joke on her that lasted for three days, frustrating her and her husband. Once the joke was revealed, Tamala's husband then suggested she write a book based on a similar scenario and see how it goes. It quickly became popular, leaving readers wanting more and got Hostile Vengeance as the sequel.
Now that Tamala has her suspenseful and thrilling writing hands in tact, she took it a step further and created Trapped & Out of Order. A cunningly dramatic romance that takes spicing up the bedroom to a writing level that had not yet been experienced from this Author. If her previous writings says anything about what this new project has to offer, be prepared to be taken on an emotional and exhilarating journey!
Tamala Callaway's Novel Series
|
English
|
NL
|
2e50961d43d73e7cb0dcf78dae7eb419970a4713af11eefe755ade27ff90567d
|
by Ed Bergh
“Our calling creeps low and hath pain for a companion, still thrust to the wall, though still confessed good. Our comfort perforce is that these things be good things, which want no praising, though they go a-cold for want of happing. [covering].”
Anonymous Teacher Quoted in Notestein, Wallace. The English People on the Eve of Colonization (1603-1630) New York, Harper & Row, 1954.
Teaching on the Prairie
Teachers have been working on the Yelm prairie nearly a century and a half.
The names of early teachers who worked at the school is another interesting historical puzzle. Local historians place J. C. Conine at the school in 1872. According to one, he taught for three terms. This meant that he worked possibly three months, per term, teaching, but census data shows he considered himself a “farmer.” Another account places him at the school in 1872.
More recently, evidence has surfaced that places Dillis B. Ward in the Yelm school house in 1863. There is ‘a short reference to Ward in Early School in the Washington Territory. The author states that after Dillis B. Ward left his recently closed school in Seattle he “taught at Yelm prairie.” David Longmire, writing in 1917, identified Ward as “one of the teachers at that [Yelm prairie school] school.” In 1957, the Seattle Times profiled Dillis Ward’s daughter, Maud Ward Dickey, who shared part of her family’s past with the reporter. Among the paper legacy she presented were letters written by Dillis to his fiance é living in Grand Mound. The letters, dated 1863, Yelm prairie, make him, for now, the earliest known teacher on the Yelm Prairie.
Lew Longmire, Mrs. F. N. Edwards, and Mrs. Jack Kettleman wrote the essay on education for Loutzenhizer’s The Story of Yelm. In their chapter they listed teachers that long time residents linked to the schools of the area. Their collective memories produced the following list of instructors. The year that follows each name represents a year that that their employment was documented on county teacher rolls.
Lou Jackson (Longmire)
Amelia Dittman (1891)
Miss Shelton (Van Trump)
Seymour Stone (1903)
Mrs. [Calla] Stoddard (1906)
Anna[ie] Hart[t] (1904)
Mrs. M. Alberta Johnson (1906)
Clara McKenzie (1904)
Lizzie Waddell (1896)
Fred Brown (1893)
The Teaching Profession
The fluctuations of the school year and salaries may have discouraged, but did not deter, teachers from pursuing their craft. Edith Corbett (the second woman to successfully climb Mt. Rainier) worked at the Morehead School in 1891 and 1892, taught the children of the Smith Prairie school in 1893, and was at her third school, in as many years, Mountain View, in 1894. May Collins, who had failed to be licensed in 1891 at the age of 17, eventually became a teacher, beginning her career at the Eureka school at the age of 19, but moved on to the Smith Prairie school in 1899. Belle Melvin had been certified to teach in 1895 at the age of 18. Two years later she was working at Willow Lawn, but moved to the Mountain View. If you believe the ages of the teachers sounds rather young. You are right. A sample taken from the county register of new teachers in 1895 shows that the average age of recently certified teachers was only 21 years of age. Those who failed to pass the test averaged only 20 years of age.
The career of a teacher was one of constant change. In the small rural schools of the Yelm area teachers seldom taught more than one or two terms. Some were teaching in the forests and prairies of the region hoping for jobs in more urban settings. Some were women helping their family make ends meet. Other women were entering the world of work as their right. Some teachers were relatively more educated citizens who found a haven between opportunities. This problem was scathingly critiqued in 1895 in a Northwest Journal of Education editorial. With economic hard times in the land the unemployed were flooding the teaching job market. The author wrote:
What a revelation to many teachers have been the hard time? We had talked of our profession, of professional work, etc., and what do we see today? Lawyers, real estate agents, insurance agents, book agents, farmers, doctors and barbers have become teachers—yes teachers.
There are one large class and two small classes of people today. The large class is made up of those that can get third grade certificates. Of the other two classes one is in the asylum for the feeble minded and the other has higher grade certificates to teach.
People are teaching for every conceivable object: to pay taxes; to tide over the hard times; to get a trousseau; to get money to go to school with; because they can’t find anything else to do. Yes, they are teaching for every possible reason under the sun, except the proper reason, which should alone induce a person to teach, viz.—‘Because he loves to teach.’
One would hope that schools in and around Yelm was free of such professional gold diggers, but that is unlikely. Certainly the schools drew from the surrounding community, particularly Olympia, but less than professional instructors must have been hired. When the section on education in The Story of Yelm was written in 1948 one wonders the authors commented that an early teacher at the Deschutes School was Harry Garfield, “a lothario country girls did not care for.”
Records from the schools of the area paint an interesting picture of the rhythms of the school year. Those of us used to school starting around the beginning of September might be surprised to find school starting in October, December, or even April. One of the reasons for these variable school terms was the result of a lack of financing. An example from the Olympia district in 1871 points to the problems faced by schools at this time. The Washington Standard, June 10, 1871, reported, “The district school of Olympia, taught by Mr. Brown and Misses O’Neal and Stevens, closed its term yesterday. There will be a vacation of two months, we understand, in consequence of the school fund being inadequate to pay the teachers’ salary for another quarter, even with the usual proportion collected from the scholars.”
In the French District, Abigal Eddy was hired in October 1891 to teach for two months. That term of school would have ended in December of that year. She was rehired in December 1892 to teach for four months. Leaving the school permanently in the spring of 1892, a replacement opened the school doors in the fall of that year. A shortage of teachers might have also contributed to delays in schools opening on a regular basis.
Equally flexible were teacher’s salaries. When Abigal Eddy signed her contract in the fall of 1891 she received $40 per month. This, however, was before the depression of 1893. as the depression deepened, revenues to the county declined. Counties tightened their belts. Counties and the districts lowered wages. When Bige Eddy signed his contract in 1893 the salary had been lowered a little over ten percent to 35 dollars per month. That, however, was just the beginning. By April 1894 teachers received $25 for the pedagogical efforts. The bottom was reached in 1897. By that year a teacher’s pay had been reduced by 50% from their 1891 peak. The contract signed that year also included “board” (a teacher would live with a local family). Some family was making an attempt to help lure teachers to help their children.
The turnover of teachers, even in good times, had been noted years earlier. Writing to the state superintendent the head of county education John R. Thompson summarized these issues in letter on September 1, 1881:
…There are thirty-four organized districts in this county, in all of which with two exceptions, at least three months school has been taught during the year just closed. A number have maintained two terms (six months) of school. Last year the average term of tuition though all the districts was frequently over four and one-half months.
The frequent changes in teachers made in many of our districts is an evil which ought to be ended as soon as possible. Not a few of our schools employ two or more different teachers during the year, each one of whom must spend half a term, more or less, studying the characters of the pupils in order to know how best to draw out their mental powers….The reason often given for the frequent changes of teachers is that they do not give satisfaction. I do not pretend to say that the teachers of Thurston County are all perfect…They are fully as good as we ought to expect, for the money we pay them…Some districts think they can pay for the time occupied in teaching, as well as time and cash spent in getting ready to teach, with a smaller salary than is paid to some Chinese cooks in this same county of Thurston . . . But it is not fair to expect a first-grade teacher for a less salary than is paid to a Chinaman…
Jno. R. Thompson,
Supt. Schools, Thurston County, W.T.
It would have been hard for a teacher to make a family supporting career working in one of these small schools. For one thing the pay was lower than in urban areas. This can be inferred from data collected by Alexander Pouw-Bray in Change in the Common School System of Washington State, 1889-1899. According to his estimates the average male teacher in the state received, at the bottom of the 1893 depression in 1895-96, between 44 and 47 dollars per month. His female counterpart received between 38 and 42 dollars. Records show that some teachers in the Yelm vicinity were being paid as little as 27 dollars or even as low as 20 dollars a month.
The fluctuations of the school year and salaries may have discouraged, but did not deter teachers from pursuing their craft. Edith Corbett worked at the Deschutes (Morehead) school in 1891 and 1892, taught the children of the Smith Prairie School in 1893, and was at her third school, in as many years, Mountain View, in 1894. May Collins, who had failed to be licensed in 1891 at the age of 17, eventually became a teacher. She began her career at the Eureka school at the age of 19, but moved on to the Smith Prairie School in 1899.
If you believe the ages of the teachers’ sounds rather young, you are right. A sample taken from the county register of new teachers in 1895 shows that the average age of recently certified teachers was only 21 years of age. Those who failed to pass the test averaged only 20 years of age.
The following list demonstrates the mobility of teachers in the late 19th century. The names and dates were gathered from school records available at the state archives in Olympia.
1898 – District #42 – Smith Prairie
1901 – District #14 – Rainier
1903 – District #42 – Mountain View
1892 – District #28 – Deschutes/Morehead
1893 – District #41 – Smith Prairie
1894 – District #42 – Mountain View
1897 – District #43 – Eureka
1899 – District #41 – Smith Prairie
1892 – District #43 – Eureka
1893 – District #34 – French
1896 – District #40 – Willow Lawn
1898 -District #42 – Mountain View
1899 – District #14 – Rainier
1891 – District #41 – Smith Prairie
1892 – District #43 – Eureka
1893 – District #43 – Eureka
1898 – District #40 – Willow Lawn
1895 – Teacher’s scores for Thurston County (Birdie Cooper is the one teacher from Yelm taking the test at that time)
|
English
|
NL
|
3dc1224c0e212f914ff3032581ac3b18fec333e49649af49a3f8e81b62407b11
|
Arlie touched him, all right. She touched him with her lips, with her hands, with the flutter of her lashes. She ran her tongue along his jaw, the seam of his mouth, the curve of his ear. She rolled with him over the blanket, soaking in the scent of his skin and the sound of his groans. She chose the moment to fit herself to him—and then waited for him to overcome the new flood of sensation before she began to move. His face was beautiful in its straining pleasure, his jaw tight and his brow drawn, his mouth as fierce as his need.
But his unfettered gasp reached her the most deeply, arrowing through her body to twist her own pleasure free. From a lazy, gathering delight to something hot and entirely demanding, from thought to pure reaction. When he made that sound again, she cried out in response and his hands closed over her hips, holding them together in the vigor of rhythm and desire.
As she started to stiffen, the hot spark of orgasm upon her once more, he gasped a third time, and again in quick succession, and she glimpsed just enough to know he’d thrown his head back and surrendered himself.
Spark turned to flame and ignited her right over the edge.
He held her as dusk descended, enclosing her in his arms and curving around her back. Just touching, and feeling those faint movements of skin against skin as their breathing settled. She thought he might doze, but knew from the occasional caress of his thumb over her hand that he hadn’t.
He absorbed sensation. He absorbed her. Just as she absorbed him in return—so attuned that she knew when he started to think about leaving.
“You’ll be back?” she asked, the words a little muffled by the fall of her hair and the press of her face against the arm supporting her head.
He combed that hair back. “Tomorrow,” he said. “Perhaps the night after. But then we must be more careful. If I am to come, I must learn silent ways to do so.”
“Tell me,” she said. “I need to understand more. Not about her, but about your home.”
He told her of the wild mountains that crowded settlements down near their edges, and how the small cities were separated by distance—and the holds of power by more distance yet, their craggy holds up high in the foothills. He told her of the nomads who wandered the nearby rolling plains, and of the sea he had never crossed.
He didn’t talk about the fights, or the struggles between those in power that generated them, or the rules governing those fights.
Arlie didn’t ask Jaice any of her questions. She could already fill in too many of those blanks. She had the feeling she’d learn the rest as time passed.
If she was lucky.
And then, with full darkness around them, she made it easy for him. She peeled herself away and reached for her blouse.
He sat. His movements turned precise and efficient—the pants fastened just so, the shirt tucked in this fashion, the over robe secured in that. By the time he finished, Arlie was rebuttoned but still deliciously disheveled, with no intention of being otherwise on the quiet walk home. She gathered up their picnic items, folding and packing.
He made no move up the arroyo. “If I can ask—”
After what they now shared? “Ask!”
“I wonder…” He glanced toward the quiescent doorway, gave her one of those little smiles. “If you might sing me home?”
But he didn’t return the following night.
And he didn’t return the night after that.
There was the faintest brush of an instant where Arlie felt used. No more than that. What they’d had, what they’d done…it had been real. More real than anything in her life so far. And she knew nothing of his world or the difficulties of the doorways, and she knew nothing of what happened there now. She would not assume.
Besides, she might never see him again—and if not, she was determined to treasure him always. To hold tightly to the awareness of other worlds and other places—and that she, above all, had had the wherewithal to sing through the most vital being she’d ever met.
But for now, she ached. The waiting without knowing…
She ached and mourned and lost weight and forgot to braid her hair, until friends at Food Shelf Tuesdays would have no more of it. They saw her fed and dragged out to movies and art shows and summer festivals—and then, when Lammas Night had come and gone and August was behind them, fall flea markets and even a short fun run.
Because she knew nothing of his world and the difficulties of the doorways, and all she could do was wait and sing.
Until one evening, with dusk coming sooner and more crisply, the monsoon season behind them and the landscape of the arroyo below subtly altered in its wake, Arlie snapped through her mourning and into anger.
Why did she have to wait? Just because she’d never seen the doorway herself? Just because she’d never yet glimpsed that other world?
She gathered a kit and stuffed it into her backpack—an all-season coat, bottled water, camping tools and first aid kit. Not too much of any one thing, but enough to face a variety of circumstances for a short period of time. She wore her sturdiest jeans and her hikers, and layered her shirts.
She brought the Taser, too.
And her flute.
She took it all out to her singing tree, and then she did more than sing. She watched the area from which Jaice had so often emerged, and she positioned herself all around it. She sang the same song from each position, and she sang different songs. She put words to Ravel and hummed her way through musical lyrics.
She saw nothing. Through the weeks, she saw nothing at all. August gave way to September and crawled into October, and now she wore the jacket. The thong for one of the knotted necklaces grew thin; she tied it around her flute, touching it wistfully before she lifted the instrument to her lips.
She saw nothing. But she heard…
A flatness. Not in note, but in tone.
Because for all the years since she’d started her musical meditation, she’d heard without truly noticing the quality of song in this air, at this spot. The way it rang free, with just the hint of returning to her on an echo.
There had been no hint of echo.
She faced the long-quiescent spot and closed her eyes, taking her thoughts back to a summer solstice evening and the amazing sensation of his touch on her skin and in her hair and then inside her. She woke all the places that had faltered, bringing to mind all the details of him—the precision of his movement, the silence that settled around him when he set the warrior aside, the consideration of his words.
“Be there,” she murmured, and she spoke not to the doorway, but to Jaice himself. Be there.
She lifted the flute to her lips and played. Long, liquid notes, mellow from the wood and confident from her heart.
And yes, when she moved to face this way and that, when she took careful steps while the song stayed strong—yes, she heard that flat spot.
She defined it.
She stepped toward it.
She stepped through it.
|
English
|
NL
|
7181b3d0033bf9aace3ca103098d83115f76ed69cdd652b5528cbd36b5c478cc
|
"At a mile distant their thousand hooves were stuttering thunder, coming at a rate that frightened a man - they were an awe inspiring sight, galloping through the red haze - knee to knee and horse to horse - the dying sun glinting on bayonet points..." Trooper Ion Idriess
The Australian Light Horse Studies Centre aims to present an accurate history as chroniclers of early Australian military developments from 1899 to 1920.
The Australian Light Horse Studies Centre site holds over 12,000 entries and is growing daily.
WARNING: This site contains: names, information and images of deceased people; and, language which may be considered inappropriate today.
Sunday, 2 February 2003
Boer War, 1899 - 1902, Australian Forces, 2nd Tasmanian Imperial Bushmen, Roll of Honour Topic: BW - Tas - 2TIB
Boer War, 1899 - 1902
2nd Tasmanian Imperial Bushmen
Roll of Honour
Poppies on the Roll of Honour, Australian War Memorial, Canberra
The Roll of Honour contains the names of all the men known to have served at one time with the 2nd Tasmanian Imperial Bushmen and gave their lives in service of Australia, whether as part of the 2nd Tasmanian Imperial Bushmen or another unit during the Boer War.
Roll of Honour
Francis Gilbert COWELL, Died of Disease, 25 November 1901.
Leonard Percy HUTTLEY, Died of Disease, 14 February 1901.
2nd Tasmanian Imperial Bushmen, Bufton Account, Part 1 Topic: BW - Tas - 2TIB
2nd Tasmanian Imperial Bushmen
Bufton Account, Part 1
Lieutenant-Colonel E. T. Watchorn, commanding second Tasmanian Imperial Bushmen' s contingent.
The following account is extracted from the book written by John Bufton called, Tasmanians in the Transvaal War, which was printed and published in Launceston in 1905.
John Bufton, Tasmanians in the Transvaal War, Launceston, 1905, pp. 331 – 386.
Chapter XII, Second Tasmanian Imperial Bushmen.
SYNOPSIS. - AN INTERVAL - LIEUT. - COLONEL WATCHORN - LIST OF MEN - DEPARTURE OF THE "CHICAGO" - TROOPER BROOKS WITH GORRINGE - ORR'S LETTERS - NOTES BY TROOPER HUNT - NOTES BY TROOPER EMERY-NOTES BY TROOPER IBBOTTCOLONE WLATCHORN'S LETTER-LETTER FROM TROOPER BLACKBURN-TROOPER G. SHEARING'S LETTER - PARDON THE PUNCTUATION - "OLD KRUGER AND HIS ROYAL FAMILY." - THE DEPARTURE OF THE "CHICAGO."
THE Second Imperial Bushmen were commanded by Lieut. - Colonel E. T. Watchorn. The colonel promised some notes of his career so as to enable me to complete my plan of giving biographic and other details of each O.C. All my endeavours, however, were unavailing to get this promise fulfilled. Under date of November 27, 1903, Lieut. - Colonel Watchorn wrote:-"I will, without fail, let you have them next week. Trusting you will wait until then." Hobart, Sunday. - Owing to the paucity of labour, the transport “Chicago" will not leave for South Africa to-morrow afternoon, as arranged. The "Chicago" will take 22 tons of oats, 22 tons of bran, 45 tons of hay, 1700 bags chaff, and 4 tons of carrots, for the use of the horses on board, 380 in all. She will also take 100 tons of jam and 1600 tons of oats, shipped by Messrs. Webster and Son.
The following is the nominal roll of the Tasmanian troops proceeding to South Africa with the transport:- No. 1 Company. - Lieutenant-Colonel, E. T. Watchorn; Surgeon- Lieutenant, Charles Mattei; Sergeant-Major, W.O., William Bruce; Q.M. - Sergeant, E. W. Robinson; Trans. - Sergeant, A. Coombe; Captain, C. Henderson; Lieutenants, C. Henderson, G. F. Richardson, J. M`Cormick, C. O. Blythe, J. H. Bisdee, V.C.; Sergeant-Farrier, C. Winifred; Sergeants, J. Drew, F. V. Brewster, W. Branagan, R. Dixon; Corporals, W. Sandison, Roy Johnson, R. A. Blacklow, W. J. Facy, G. L. M'Intyre, D. M. Lyne; Lance-Corporals, C. A. Holmwood, R. B. Wilson, J. Orr, S. Laughton; Shoeing Smiths, H. L. Green, H. N. Coleman, P. D. Billing, V. Thomas; Saddler, George Glover; Buglers, F. Goucher, F. W. Thompson; Privates, G. A. Anderson, R. G. Abery, H. P. Abery, G. C. Adams, G. R. Brooks, W. Burton, Alf. Brown, W. G. Barker, H. Blackburn, W. J. S. Byrne, G. N. F. Brewer, A. Baker, G. H. Blyth, L. T. Cox, W. R. Cassidy, N. H. Coleman, E. T. Coates, W. C. Carlin, R. G. Cooley, H. Cox, W. H. M. Dobson, J. W. Edwards, C. E. Fitzallen, F. W. Foreman, W. P. Fegan, A. E. Ferguson, F. W. Ford, T. T. Ferguson, N. L. Frost, C. French,, H. W. Greer, H. W. Gee, C. G. D. Groom, R. Guthrie, E. F. Hewitt, R. E. M. Hull, G. A. Harris, A. R. Hewitt, T. C. H. Howard, G. W. Hill, R. W. Harrison, G. F. Harrison, T. F. Jardine, J. M. Joyce, J. H. Johnson,- Tas. Jeffrey, J. E. Kirk, A. W. F. Luttrell, A. R. Little, T. Lyall, W. H. Lyne, M. M'Donald, E. R. Murrell, R. G. Morrisby, T. Mundy, A. J. Monson, J. H. Maroney, W. H. M'Intyre, D. J. Murray, T. H. Marsden, C. L. Maddox, J. A. Manser, H. Nation, C. A. Nicholson, A. H. Neal, T. H. C. Oldham, F. Peacock, J. H. Patterson, A. J. Parker, R. A. Paul, A. C. Pegg, T. M. Patrick, J. T. Riley, T. Robertson, E. F. Ramskill, H. Ross, F. E. Simmonds, George Shearing, George E. Saunderson, J. R. Street, R. E. Street, A. E. Shegog, C. J. Smith, R. H. R. Thompson, A.S. Tucker, E. H. Tilley, Robert Templeton, W. G. Tucker, A. H. Vincent, P. A. Williams, S. D. Whiting, F. H. Williams, F. Watson, P. Wade, J.E. Warburton, H. C. Whiley, L. H. Witherington, R. C. Wilson, T. A. Youl.
No. 2 Company. - Captain, T. A. Spencer; Lieutenants, H. Hallam, M. H. Swan; Second Lieutenants, F. R. Chalmers, R. D. Brent; Colour- Sergeant, A. J. P. Suche; Farrier-Sergeants, M. M'Lean, W. J. Manning, P. F. Wise, C. C. Meredith, C. W. Beresford; Corporals, H. D. Chepmell, J. L. R. Page, O. H. Sherrin, E. Morgan, S. Birchall, A. E. Hunt; Lance-Corporals, James Murphy, WA Edwards, AA Evans, RG Chilcot; Shoeing Smiths, W Blackwell; Saddler, E Coombe; Buglers, J. A. King, R. Ballantyne; Privates, R. P. Bell, L. J. Corrigan, A. J. Beven, E. Barron, G. Breward, W. Barnard, E. A. M. Curtain, Charles Cawthorn, W. J. Cleary, F. G. Cowell, T. Dowd, D. Donnelly, P. A. Emery, A. L. Frost, A. J. Grant, J. L. Hughes, E. A. Hunter, L. P. Huttley, E. Higgs, A. A. Hunt, G. G. Hilyard, W. Hewitt, R. J. Hart, J. Hill, E. E. Haines, D. Iles, F. N. Ibbotson, S. M. Ibbott, H. P. Jones, J. W. Johnson, H. M. Johnson, J. J. Joyce, A. Jones, J. C. Joyce, T. Kearns, T. H. Leslie, N. E. Loane, A. G. Lyall, H. Lawler, William Mason, J. Maxfield, G. M'Kercher, William T. Moyle, George Morley, S. Mathews, A. Murray, M. M'Grath, J. L. Munro, J. Massey, J. L. T. Moore, G. Marshall, J. North, W. H. North, A. Nolan, S. H. L. Norman, A. Nicholson, J. O'Shea, J. T. Olding, F. N. Page, J. Pedder, D. H. Page, C. H. Page, J. T. Reardon, E. C. Reid, M. C. Richardson, P. Reading, J. Reid, W. C. S. Scott, K. H. Stewart, W. H. Salter, W. A. Smith, W. E. Seritchley, J. R. Smith, R. W. Seadon, R. T. Sutton, A. H. Scott, W. Somerville, D. H. Sergeant, A. Suitor, W. A. C. Taylor, P. R. Thompson, William Thompson, A. E. Turner, P. C. E. Waddle, F. H. Webb, George White, R. Watson, J. W. Wilson, F. W. Wright, E. H. White, J. J. Weeding, W. A. Waller, H. G. Wilkinson, J. W. Whittle, J. W. Wilkins, W. G._ White.
Men invalided First Tasmanian Imperial Contingent rejoining their corps. - Privates J.' Cooper, W. W. Davis, R. R. Guest, G. E. Taylor, S. Willoughby. Lieutenant A. J. Reynolds, First Battalion South Staffordshire Regiment:
DEPARTURE OF THE TASMANIAN CONTINGENTS.
Hobart, Wednesday. - The departure of the troopship "Chicago" to-day was shorn very much of animation by reason not alone of the troopers who had preceded her, but by the fact that she had been delayed over three weeks through quarantine regulations, coaling necessities, loading, and the like. However, there was a spicy interest observable. The camp at Newtown was broken up before 8 a.m., and an hour later the Tasmanian contingent, headed by the Garrison Band, marched down Elizabeth-street, up Liverpool-street, and to the transport, by way of Murray-street. Some hundreds of people had congregated on the line of route, and before the troops had lined and been given general leave to dismiss to their various quarters, they were besieged by female and male friends. In some instances affectionate farewells were given, but, taken all round, there was a gay scene of hilarity in the fact. This was intensified by the troopers scaling every coign of vantage, and good-humouredly waving their adieux. The transport moved off from the wharf shortly before i o'clock, and was accompanied down the river by steam tenders and a host of sailing and rowing boats. After the men returned from general leave they were formed into a hollow square, when Mr. B. S. Bid (Treasurer), on behalf of the Ministry, addressed the officers and men conveying the best wishes of the people of Tasmania for their success and safe return. He referred to the good work the previous contingents had done, and hoped that the present Tasmanian Contingent would render an equally good account of themselves. At the request of the officers of the First Battalion Tasmanian Infantry Regiment, he presented Lieutenant- Colonel Watchorn with a handsome pair of field glasses, a suitable inscription accompanying the same. Lieutenant-Colonel Watchorn suitably replied, and in doing so made special reference to the exceptional conduct of the men under his command, and their willingness to carry out their duties. During the forenoon Lieutenant-Colonel Watchorn received - telegram from Lieutenant-Colonel Legge (commandant of the Tasmanian Defence Force), now attending the Defence Conference in Sydney, bearing testimony to the conduct of the contingent, to which Lieutenant-Colonel Watchorn replied:-"Your valedictory telegram received; many thanks; read out on parade, and much appreciated."
THE TRANSPORT "CHICAGO." A LETTER FROM LIEUTENANT-COLONEL WATCHORN.
Hobart, Wednesday. The Premier (Mr. N. E. Lewis, M.H.A.) has received the following letter from Lieutenant-Colonel Watchorn, dated from Port Elizabeth, South Africa, April 23:-"We arrived here on the 10th, having experienced strong head winds for the past five days, consequently we ran short of coal. The captain put in here for 100 tons. Our men arrived safely and well and in the best of spirits, with the exception of 279, Private Hart, who has had typhoid; also one of the ship's crew.
Private Blyth (258) fell and broke his leg on board while taking part in an obstacle race. All sick were landed to-day and taken to the military hospital here. The men disembark to-morrow to entrain in the afternoon.
We are told that our percentage of loss was small, losing only five horses -three from colic, and two from old age (both being over 20). I found that the feeding required very strict supervision and constant attention.
I had to stop the allowance of oats altogether. Sergeants Wingfield and Devitt deserve special mention for their untiring energy and attention to the horses in the absence of a vet. The conduct of all on board the "Chicago" has been good, and I have every reason to believe we shall give a good account of ourselves."
A HOT ENGAGEMENT. THE DEATH OF PRIVATE WARBURTON.
Mr. F. C. Brooks, of the Royal Oak Hotel, has received a couple of letters from his son, Private G. R. Brooks, of the Second Tasmanian Imperial Contingent. From the first letter, written from Craddock camp, on April 28, the following extracts are made:- "Since I last wrote, we landed at Port Elizabeth, and as soon as_ we landed they issued to us rifles, bayonets, and another bandolier. They gave us a dinner in the afternoon, and then we got aboard the train. They told us that in five hours' time we would be amongst the Boers, and we had to keep our rifles loaded, but nothing occurred. We were all day and a night and part of the next day in the train, and Craddock, where we left the train, is 184 miles inland. It is a very pretty little Dutch town, situated in a gully. We have been camped here four days, and are to be attached to Colonel Hay's flying column. The Boers are reported to be within ten miles, and we have patrols out among the hills every night.
There was a skirmish here two days before we came. Eight of Brabant's Horse were captured while out on patrol. We are having a good time; guard is the worst part about it, as we don't get much sleep. We have all been supplied with English cavalry saddles, and they are much better than our own. We have no tents; just a blanket or a sheet for shelter, and one to roll up in, and a waterproof sheet. I am writing this letter on my rifle bucket. Staircase (his horse) is doing all right after his trip.
Captain Spencer is in the hospital, and a good many of us are bad with colds. Mine left me before I landed. The country about here is just like Mount Lyons-little kopjes out on the flat. There are no trees at all--only little bunches of scrub. The men are all eager to have a scrap with the enemy. We can hear them fighting about ten miles out. The pom-poms can be heard going through the day. We are getting on all right as far as `tucker' is concerned. All sorts of reports come into camp, but we can't put much faith in any of them. We are about eight hours behind Launceston time. Word has just come into camp that we are wanted five miles out, to reinforce a column, so I suppose we will have a jig with them to-morrow." The next letter is dated Mortimer camp, May 9, and states:-"Ever since I wrote last I have been in the saddle. We are attached to Scobie's flying column, and they keep us on the move. I don't know what it is to sleep at night, but just get a couple of hours through the day. They are using us as scouts, and we are about a day in advance of the column.
This morning, while on outpost duty, my mate shot at a Boer who was trying to creep into our lines, but missed him, as it was too dark. This morning, about 6 o'clock, about eighteen of us and twenty C.I.V.'s went out mounted on patrol. We had got about six miles when we came across two horses, belonging to the Boers, so we followed up their tracks. It led up a valley, the hills on both sides being very rocky. We had six scouts about 400 yards ahead of the rest. This was my first experience under fire, and it was a funny feeling. Anyhow, the Boers let our scouts go on right by them, until the main body got well up the gully, and then the first thing I knew was the snap of a Mauser. It sounded just like a stockwhip. Then they let go -a volley into the midst of us. I saw my mate knocked clean out of the saddle, and three more in front of me.
I was completely stunned for a second or two, until a bullet struck Staircase in the butt of the tail. All the rest were off their horses, and trying to get cover. As soon as Staircase was hit, he gave a bound, and nearly unseated me. I was about to get off him, when another bullet struck him on the knee, and he went down with me. I managed to get clear of him, and crawled on my hands and knees to a bit of a gutter, where the rest were. The bullets were whistling all round me. This all occurred in a few seconds. We were completely trapped. They were firing from both sides and ahead of us. It was a proper cross-fire, and I can tell you it was hot. There were 200 of the enemy, and we could not see one of them. The lieutenant gave the order to retreat, every man for himself. How we got out of it I don't know. We left four stretched out, and five horses killed. All I was thinking of was where I was going to get hit. We could hear the snap of the rifles, and then the hissing sound of the bullets, and the ping of them when they struck the ground about us, and sent the dust up. One whizzed by my head, and I could swear it burnt me as it went by; but anyhow, I got out of the gully, and snapped the horse of one of the chaps that had been shot, and on to his back and into camp for help. We took the ambulance out with us, but when we got half-way we met them coming back in twos and threes. We had three of our fellows wounded, and one of the C.I.V. One of our chaps, Dug. Brownell, was taken prisoner, and two C.I.V.'s. The C.I.V. that was wounded was hit in the arm, and one of our own fellows, Burton, had the top of his head blown off. They reckon he will not get over it. One of the other two wounded was my mate. The bullet ploughed his forehead, and laid him out for an hour or two. The other was wounded in the cheek. The bullet cut his chin strap in two, and it was a narrow escape for him. Cyril Maddox was with us, and got out all right." The letter was continued on the following day, as follows:-"Since I left off writing we have been out to where we were ambushed. Every man in camp had to go. The Boers had not shifted. We rode up to within a mile of the pass, and dismounted, and one half climbed the hills on both sides, the rest went up the gully. We took them completely by surprise, and engaged them for about eight hours. We don't know how many we killed, but we came across one shot in the head, and one or two wounded.
We never lost a man. We drove them from their position into Brabant's Horse, who killed seven of the enemy, and 26 horses, so we did very well for our first engagement. The Boers stripped Dug. Brownell of everything he had on him, and he came into camp in that state. Young Smith has been in the hospital with dysentery, but is all right now. I am sorry to say we have lost our first man. Poor Warburton, from Westbury, has died from his wounds, a wire having just come from the hospital. He was a nice chap. I have got the first cartridge I fired, and will bring it home with me."
WITH A FLYING COLUMN. A TASMANIAN'S EXPERIENCES.
Corporal J. Orr, with Gorringe's Flying Column Scouts, writes to his brother at Underwood:- Glenconner Station, Cape Colony, October 7.
Gorringe's flying column has had a jolly rough time lately. The wily Boer has kept us more than fully occupied. General Smutz, the Boer commandant, is as cunning as they make them, and although an enemy I must acknowledge his ability as a leader. We have been following him for a month, and the column never got into touch with him until last week. Then he ambushed us in some very rough country, and for about half an hour caused a regular panic amongst a lot of our men. The country was bushy, which compelled the troops to keep on the road, so when the order to retire was given the squadrons retreated on to the pack mules, which were following up behind. Their progress being thus blocked, all order was lost, and one could see nothing but a confused mass of horses, pack mules, and men, both black and white, the poor niggers being pushed aside by their lords and masters as if they had no lives to lose. The Boers were concealed in the thick bush close by, so the scouts and a few of the 17th Lancers who were in front took up a position among some rocks and covered the retreat of the main body. Lieutenant Macdonald, the officer in charge of the scouts, received three wounds. Sergeant Donner, also of the scouts, and an officer and a private of the Lancers were also wounded.
To make up for this slight reverse, a Boer picket of five was captured, and the unlucky devils were shown no mercy, being sent to the happy hunting ground straight away.
This last week we have been very short of supplies, and have lived on a biscuit and fresh air until we arrived at Glenconner. It is on occasions such as these that thoughts of home and apple pie thrust themselves upon a fellow's mind, but he pushes them aside, and, like the philosopher, turns to the corner of his biscuit and muses on the frailty of the human race, or else the stomach. But here we are alive and well at Glenconner, with heaps of tucker and the prospects of an early reveille in the morning and more of Smutz.
On the 17th September, at Modderfontein, Smutz and his commando of 400 Boers attacked the 17th Lancers' camp, and were successful in carrying off all their rations, horses, guns, rifles, and ammunition. What they did not want they burnt or destroyed. There were only 110 men in the Lancers' camp when it was attacked, and they fought like demons, well maintaining the reputation of their motto, which is "Death or Glory." Poor devils, they would not surrender, and lost 35 killed and 5o wounded.
This is an enormous percentage of casualties for the number of men engaged; in fact, it was one of the most disastrous affairs of the campaign.
Our column was camped only nine miles off, and the scouts were out on patrol. We heard the firing, and climbed a kopje to reconnoitre. On reaching the top the Boers were just in the act of rushing the camp. Being too far off to render assistance, we galloped to a ridge overlooking the camp, and fired heavily into the Boers at 1700 yards. Our fire had the effect of throwing them into confusion, but they soon recovered when they found out we only numbered 13. We dared not come closer, and in spite of all we could do we had the mortification of seeing them trek away with their valuable prize. The Boers did not get off scot free, for they left behind 12 killed and wounded.
After the fight the camp presented a terrible spectacle, the ground being covered with the killed and wounded. To make matters worse, they were stripped of their clothes, and the sufferings of the wounded were very severe. The dead were buried next day in two trenches, each of which held 16 men. The officers, three in number, were taken to Tarkenstadt, and buried in the cemetery there. This is by far the worst affair I have taken part in. We captured six prisoners last week, two of whom were Germans, and woeful-looking specimens of humanity. We took another, dressed in one of the dead Lancers' clothes.* He received no mercy, being shot 15 minutes after capture.
Everybody now is asking when will this weary, tiresome war end, and why has it taken a nation like Britain so long to subjugate the Transvaal and Orange Free State Republics. The principal reasons are the enormous obstacles that have had to be surmounted by our troops. The country affords splendid facilities for the carrying on of guerrilla warfare, which the Boers adopted soon after the commencement of the campaign. Their object has been for a long time not to fight, but to prolong the war in the hope that some other Power would intervene, and to cost England as much as possible. This object they carry out by refusing to stand and fight, unless when covered, or when far superior to the force opposing them.
The marvellous mobility of the Boer commandoes is another reason why the war is still unfinished. Unhampered by guns or transport, they can trek through any part of the country, and, when closely pursued, retreat to places which are inaccessible to the majority of the columns, which are compelled to travel by the road. It is in positions such as these that the Boers made a stand, protected by the nature of the country from shell and rifle fire.
The life of the Boers must be a miserable one, for they carry no supplies with them, and consequently have to rely on what rations they can commandeer from the farms. This is necessarily small, for a farmer is only allowed to keep a fortnight's provisions, the quantity being regulated by the number of his family. The Boers in the colony chiefly live on mutton, the supply of which is unlimited, as there are innumerable flocks of sheep. But in the Transvaal and Orange Free State even this supply is cut off, for all cattle and sheep have been removed from the farms.
So you see the Boers lead a hand-to-mouth existence, their only good time being when they capture a convoy or take possession of a town.
The sympathetic attitude of the Dutch farmers also greatly assists the Boers in keeping away from our troops. The farmers know where we are, and inform the enemy of our movements, consequently we have to act warily to prevent being caught in a trap. Of course it is treason for a farmer to give intelligence to the Boers, and if found out it means St. Helena or Ceylon; but blood is thicker than water, and they risk it and, well, what could you expect? These few facts will give you an idea of the tremendous difficulties that our troops have to work against, and I trust you will not consider it to the discredit of the British soldier that the war is still unsettled.
How much longer the war will drag on I cannot say, but set it down at a few more months at the most. There has been none of the glorious fighting that you read of in former wars, when men stood up and either gave or took their gruel. It is fighting against an invisible foe, concealed among rocks or bushes, and who retires as soon as you locate him and make things warm. We are always working under disadvantages, and seldom know of the enemy's presence until the ping-pong of the rifles breaks upon our ears, and a hail of bullets comes whizzing around our heads.
From Trooper A. A. Hunt's notes, which record mostly the same movements as Lieutenant Bisdee and others, I make the following extract:- Joining the waggons, we went back into Dordrecht, and spent Xmas, which was much enjoyed. We got presents from Capetown, such as plum pudding, chocolates, tobacco, cigarettes, pipes, etc. After Xmas, we trekked out again to Barkley, patrolling this part of the country for some time. Went back into Dordrecht, and from there to Stormberg, where we entrained for a place called "Three Sisters." Joining Colonel Doran's column, and getting out the second day, we came upon them camped under a kopje, where they had been waiting for us. Crossing a at piece of country to the kopje, and coming up within 200 yards of them, they poured in a heavy rifle fire, wounding six of our men. Driving them off, they retired to another kopje, where they made a good stand.
In looking back to our rear, we noticed a commando of 200 Boers, under Commandant Wessels, who were coming up to reinforce Commandant Malan. Seeing us, they turned in a different direction, coming out again in our front; and, firing a few shots, they retired west, having killed four and wounded ten, and taking two prisoners, one a commandant named Judge Hugo, who was shot through the head. ["Having killed, etc.," evidently means that the Bushmen had done this.] We learned afterwards that Commandant Malan was also wounded through the leg.
Trekking back to our waggons, and having had dinner, we went out in search of the enemy again, but, having had enough, they soon got away. A day afterwards Commandant Hugo succumbed to his wounds, and was buried near a Dutch farm.
Trooper P A. Emery.
(Sailed in the "Chicago," 263 strong, Colonel Watchorn in Command.)
DIARY OF FIRST MONTH.
April 20. - After a pleasant trip across the Indian Ocean, we dropped anchor in Algoa Bay on Saturday, the 10th of April, 1901. The bay was crowded with ships, steamers, and sailing transports, bringing troops and provisions for the seat of war, and presented a very busy appearance.
April 21. - Sunday. Church parade at ii a.m. "Mohawk" transport arrived at 12.30 with a draft of the Warwick Militia on board. Sailed again for East London at 2 p.m. As they passed us they cheered, and we returned the compliment.
April 22. - Raining all day; still on board.
April 23. - Colonel addressed the parade at night, telling us we would land next day, but would not be allowed about the town, as we were going on by train to the front in the afternoon. Everyone pleased to get ashore, and anxious to have a look at the Boers.
April 24. - Landed at 11.30, Port Elizabeth; fell in on the wharf, and marched to Ordnance stores, and got served out with rifles and side-arms.
Were entertained by the ladies of Port Elizabeth, who gave us an up-to-date spread in the Town Hall.
April 25. - Arrived at Cradock, noon, and detrained; went into camp, eastern side of town. Boers reported about 18 miles out.
April 26. - Got new saddlery issued, the saddlery we brought out having been condemned on landing. Small detachment of Cape Mounted Rifles, about 150, left camp to locate Boers.
April 27. - Kit bags issued.
April 28. - On guard. Camp routine: Reveille at 5.30, feed horses at 6, breakfast 8, water horses 9, clean up 9.30, feed horses 12,,.dinner 1, parade 2.30, water 4, feed 5, tea 6, feed 9, lights out 10 p.m.
April 29. - Full dress parade. Thirty horses arrived from Port Elizabeth.
April 30. - Still in camp.
May 1. - Struck camp, and moved out about four miles; halted, and went into camp at Orange Grove farm. Boers were expected to attempt to cross line here, and we were placed 'to block them. Reported that an engagement took place between Midland Mounted Rifles (M.M.R.) and Boers; defeated. Thirty men told off for outpost; posted along the road, as it was reported the Boers coming that way, but saw nothing of them.
Our orders were to fire at anyone on sight.
May 2. - On outpost duty; 24 hours of it.
May 3. - Several columns seen moving in the distance. We are posted on a high kopje. Can see for a long way. Outpost relieved at 5 p.m.. Raided a Boer farm at 9.30, seven of us being told off for the purpose; information has been received that the rebels were in the habit of visiting it. Had our journey for nothing, as we found everything correct, no one being there but the farmer and his family. Returned to camp at 10.45, and turned in, but was roused out again at 11.30. Had to saddle up and form escort for waggons, with supplies for the M.M.R. Had an all-night job of it.
May 4. - Met a party of the M.M.R., who took over the convoy at 11 a.m., so we had twelve hours in the saddle. Halted one hour to have something to eat. Moved on again, and reached our own camp at 5.30 p.m., tired and hungry. Railway line blown up about 10 miles from us. A small patrol of C.M.R. got into trouble, and lost corporal killed and five men wounded.
May 5. - Struck camp at 7 a.m., and marched down the line to where it was blown up. Camped; found line repaired; no sign of Boers. Owner of farm where we camped was an Australian; name of station, Limebanks.
Had a very dusty ride of it. Farmer treated us like a gentleman.
May 6. - Forty of No. 2 went out on patrol, and visited four Boer farms, looking for rebels, but without success. Country very rough and hard on the horses. Six of the C.C.C. (Cape Cyclist Corps) joined us to act as despatch riders. No. 1 Company patrol captured a Boer, but let him go again, after taking his papers from him. About 6o Boers were seen on a kopje this morning, about three miles from here, and 18o passed through two days ago. Colonel Scobell's main body passed through Craddock to-day, to try and head them off. As it is expected they will come back this way, we have dug trenches round the camp, and posted, extra guards, so we are prepared to give them a good reception.
May 7. - All hands stood to arms at 11.30 last night, and slept in the trenches to 7 this morning. It was reported the Boers had cut the telegraph between here and Craddock. Found out that they had crossed the line about two miles from here, and camped for about two hours in a gully just below our outpost. They were three hundred strong, and we expected an attack.
May 8. - Out again last night, all hands being roused out at 10.30 p.m.; got orders to saddle up in full marching order. Marched off at 12.15, and kept going till daybreak. Our troop (No. 3 B squad) were halted and served out with 200 rounds extra ammunition, and marched to the top of a kopje commanding a view of the road to the railway line.
The Boers are being driven this way. Colonel Scobell came in touch with them three times yesterday.
May 9. - Camped at Drennan all night. About 9 a.m. an order came for a strong patrol to go out and visit the kopjes around us. After being out two hours, we were recalled; went back to camp, fell in, full marching order, and started for Mortimer; got about half-way, when a despatch came from No. 2 Troop, A squad, to come on with all possible speed, as Lieutenant Blyth was hemmed in, and Lieutenant Richardson wanted all the assistance he could get. So we went full gallop for about five miles, when we sighted some horses and men about a mile away on our right, which proved to be No. 2 Troop, A squad, under Lieutenant Richardson; so we joined them. Just as we did, a report came in that Lieutenant Blyth, No. 1 Troop, A squad, was clear, and had retired on Mortimer; and as it was getting dark we did the same. When we reached camp No. 1 was already there. In the morning the account I got of the affair from one of No. 1 Troop was as follows:-No. 1 and some of the Scottish Sharpshooters were ordered to search some of the kopjes in the rear of Mortimer. About three miles out they entered a long valley between two kopjes. There was a belt of scrub and a dry watercourse (donga ). The scouts, four in number, being in advance of the patrol, entered the scrub and crossed the donga without seeing the Boers, who were lying in the donga. When the patrol got within 200 yards of the scrub the enemy opened fire, wounding three horses and one man. The patrol retired, but the scouts were not so fortunate. Two got clear away, the other two Tasmanians being cut off. They dismounted and returned the fire of the Boers at 50 yards' distance. Warburton received a wound in the head, and Brownell a bullet through the sleeve of his coat. They fired all the ammunition. Brownell shot both the horses to prevent the Boers from getting them, and then surrendered. Brownell was stripped of his clothing, and then set free. At 7.3o he took the ambulance out, and brought Warburton in to Craddock Hospital, where he died on Saturday, the 11ith.
May 10. - Orders to saddle up as soon as we were roused at 5.30. We were marched out three miles, and then got orders to dismount and advance to attack the position where No. 1 got fired on yesterday. The order was -A squad on the right, 77th Scottish Sharpshooters centre, B left; a few of us were sent as left Bankers to go round a big kopje and see if anyone was there. Before we reached the top, we. could hear firing on the other side, so we hurried up a bit and got on top. We could hear the bullets "pinging" past, but could see no Boers, as they were under cover in the scrub, where they stuck for a couple of hours, and then retired; so we got a shot at them, but don't think we did much damage.
Returned to camp at 12.
May 11. - Out after them again; left camp at 8 a.m. I ode out three miles, and then had a big climb over a kopje to try and get them in the rear. We did some hard climbing till 3 p.m.; took up a position, but they had left. Could hear the sound of artillery in the distance.
They ran up against M.M.R., and got cut up a bit. They turned back, and crossed the line at Lirneback, and made for the hills again.
May 12. - Expected a spell to-day, but got orders to fall in, full marching order. Saddled up, and started at 10.45 a.m. Went in the direction of Craddock. Blowing a full gale, and the dust something frightful, right in our faces. Pitched camp at 7 p.m. on a Englishman's farm, five miles from Cradock.
May 13. - Had a spell, and rested our horses. Colonel Scobell visited camp, and was very pleased with the appearance of the men and horses.
May 14. - Saddled up, and moved off at 9 a.m. passed through Cradock.
All the people turned out to have a look at us. Camped three miles north of Cradock at 2.30.
May 15. - A day's spell, awaiting orders.
May 16. - Moved off at 11 a.m., back through Cradock, and followed on in rear of Scobell's column. Halted at 5.30.
May 17. - Joined Colonel Scobell’s column this morning, consisting of one section Royal Horse Artillery (R.H.A.), two 12-pounders, and one pom-pom; half-section Royal Field Artillery, with howitzer; three squads of Cape Police, with two Maxims; one squad C.M.R., section Royal Engineers; two troops Diamond Fields Horse; some of the First and Second Brabant's Horse, and fighting scouts, Kaffirs, in all amounting to about woo men. The convoy was one and a half miles long. Marched 35 miles, and camped for the night at 11.30 p.m.
In a letter accompanying Trooper Emery promised further notes, but they never came to hand.
Extracts from Trooper S. M. Ibbott's Notes.
The 14lb. guns which were with the columns usually used shrapnel shell. These did very little damage, as they were of not much use for the kind of warfare that was carried on in Cape Colony, although good for columns operating in the Transvaal and O.R.C., where the enemy were mostly met with in force, and so inclined to be aggressive. The presence of guns with the columns did a great deal towards causing many of the Boers, especially when in small bands, or commandoes as were met with in the colony, to evade the British as much as possible.
Howitzer guns, firing lyddite, were with most of the columns, but these were of little use, except in a fight of some importance. The report of pom-poms is unsettling to troops, and does not do so much damage as one would suppose. Maxims were not up to their supposed standard of usefulness in the latter part of the war. The Lee-Metford service rifle is a good weapon, but an improvement could be made with the magazine, which is not strong, and takes some time to fill, in this respect being inferior to the Mauser. The climate of South Africa is a good one, the air being clear, dry, and healthy. The troops as well as inhabitants are subject very little to colds, coughs, etc., etc. A deal is heard of the prevalence of enteric in South Africa, but if this campaign had been carried on in almost any other country fever and sickness would have been present in a far greater degree. [Why?] In comparison with the number of troops operating there has been less serious sickness than has been known in any other Anglo-foreign war. [?] The hospitals were managed well. Good treatment was given patients by nurses and doctors, but the orderlies of the Royal Army Medical Corps were very often guilty of neglect and carelessness towards the patients. In some of the temporary up-country hospitals this was especially the case. They, however, would do, whatever was wanted of them for bribes.
For the first three weeks after arrival in the country we were not attached to any column. It was during this time we had our first encounter with the Boers, a little below a station called Mortimer, on the Port Elizabeth line. It was at this time that Trooper Warburton was mortally wounded. We were then attached to Colonel Scobell’s column, which consisted of ourselves and Brabant's force, with artillery, made ' up of two 14lb. field guns, one howitzer, one pom-pom, and one mounted Maxim. When first attached to this column we were kept moving about, round about Craddock district. We then moved north and north-east to Cyphergat. Here the column was broken up, Scobell taking command of another. While with him we had to be on the move every morning between 6 and 7, and go till midday, when we halted for an hour, or two, or only half an hour, then off again, and kept going till camping time, any time between 5 and 8. When a night march was contemplated, a halt would be called a couple of hours before sundown, after which we would be set going again, and travel till ii, perhaps 2, or later. These night marches were made for the purpose of stealing a march on the enemy, but were very trying to both horses and men, coming after the hard and long day's work.
On June 3 we joined Colonel Gorringe's flying column, and with them we travelled to Lady Brand, Barclay East, and towards the Basutoland border. (His column was composed of ourselves, A squadron, 17th Lancers, and sometimes B and C squad, Cape Police, Nesbitt's Horse, and Cape Colonial Defence Force, with two 14-pounders, one pom -pom, and one Maxim on packhorse.) Here some of the Boers, whom some of the columns hoped they had cornered got back past them. We then turned back across the colony, and got to Burghersdorp, where we left our waggons and got pack mules. After this we were kept moving about between O.R. and Steynsburg and south of that place. It was here that Kruitzinger (the chief commandant in the colony) was surprised and driven across the O.R. On returning in the following December and trying to break through the line of blockhouses near Hanover-road, he was wounded and captured. Later on, near Tarkastadt, the disaster happened to C Squad., 17th Lancers. The column was moving with a broad front- Tasmanians on the left, B. Squad. left centre, A. Squad. right centre, C. Squad. on the right, a distance of a few miles separating each. At midday C. Squad. halted in an opening with kopjes on each side. Beneath the kopje on one side was a donga. Smuts' commando was not far off, and, getting to know of the Lancers' position, he doubled back and surprised them. The main body of Boers got on to the kopje on the opposite side of the donga, while others, getting into the donga, followed it up, till they were close to the squad., and then opened fire, with the result that most of the British got away as best they could, leaving behind them their Cape carts and baggage, 36 men being mortally wounded and killed Some escaped to A. Squad., but when they (A. Squad.) arrived the affair was over.
Smuts was gone after setting fire to the Cape-carts, etc. After operating for some time in this part of the country, Smuts was closely pursued in the direction of Port Elizabeth, which place he reported he was going to take possession of. In the latter stage of this pursuit he was pressed so closely the last two or three days that his commando could Sometimes be caught sight of. This was near Bellevue. Here it was expected that he would be caught, as he was forced to go through one of two passes leading to Bellevue. A body of troops were expected by train to guard this pass to Bellevue. The town guard and district vol., which were guarding it, left it to go to the other, and while it was thus unprotected he whipped through, thus escaping and breaking up his commando. During this march we experienced the hardest time we had had while out there, mostly moving off at 3 a.m., and going till dark at night.
On October 9th Colonel Gorringe's column was broken up, the different corps for about a fortnight being stationary, or acting independently.
We then were taken charge of by Colonel Lukin for about three weeks, and again broken, ourselves, Lancers, Nesbitt's Horse, and Artillery entraining and joining Scobell's column at Stormberg, November 14th. Scobell's column was made up of Cape Mounted Rifles, 9th Lancers, Yeomanry, and for a while Kaffrarian Rifles, two 14lb. guns, one pom-pom, one howitzer, and Maxims. With this column we operated in the country between Stormberg, Barclay East, and Rhodes until Christmas time, when Scobell returned to England; for a while we were attached to Colonel Munro's column, consisting of B. Squadron, 17th Lancers, Bethune's Mounted Infantry, New England (Zealand?) Rifles, some Yeomanry, and Artillery. About the beginning of February we entrained for a station near Richmond-road, on Capetown line, and were attached to Colonel Doran's column of Yeomanry and Artillery, when at last some close engagements were taken part in. When first in the country with Colonel Scobell's column we were in pursuit of Scheeper's commando; with Gorringe after Kruitzinger and Smuts; the second time with Scobell after Fouchee and Wessells; with Munro after ditto; with Doran after Malan, Lotagan, and Theron's commandos.
You are welcome to make any use you please of these notes, and I hope they will be of service to you in your work, which I trust will meet with the success it deserves. As you will see, the notes are only a rough outline, and you must put it all into proper language. - From Trooper Stephen Mears Ibbott.
[The language is eminently satisfactory.]
LETTER FROM COLONEL WATCHORN.
Lieutenant -Colonel E. T. Watchorn, in command of the 2nd Tasmanian Imperial Bushmen ' s Contingent, wrote under date Deelfontein, March 6:-"I wish to draw your attention to an error which appeared in your columns on Monday, January 20, in which it mentions two sergeants of the 2nd Tasmanian Imperial Contingent having distinguished themselves at the capture of Commandant Erasmus and two other Commandants.
This should have been Quartermaster -Sergeant D. M. Lyne (No. 193) and Transport -Sergeant Coombe (259). The facts were that Colonel Gorringe called for volunteers to storm a kopje on which the enemy were known to be. Sergeant -Major Young, of the Cape Police, selected seven men, four of whom were Tasmanians. They instantly charged the kopje, and found by the fire that there were a large number of Boers there. Without hesitating they galloped right into their midst, and succeeded, as before said, in capturing three Commandants, and shooting and capturing other Boers. The Boers, thinking there were a large number of khakis coming, became disorganised, and fled. Sergeant -Major Young, on being interviewed, stated that if he had twenty Tasmanians he would go anywhere.
I am pleased to have had these two sergeants mentioned in despatches.
Am sorry I was unable to have had the other two mentioned, who were, equally as brave. Numerous instances of the bravery of our men could be given, but will furnish matter for a future occasion. This is merely to correct the error which occurred in the name of Sergeant Coombe. One instance I should like to mention, showing what the Boers think of Australians. When Commandant Scheepers was interviewed previous to his execution, and asked what troops were feared most in the field, his reply was, " Give me 6oo Bushmen and I would go anywhere."
LETTER' FROM TROOPER BLACKBURN.
Zeehan, November 10, 1902.
Dear Sir,-In reference to yours of the 14th October, I would have answered sooner only it never reached me until the 3rd November, so T will give you an account of our travels as well as I can remember.
We landed at Port Elizabeth on April 24th, 1901, and proceeded by train to Cradock, and as Cape Colony was then in a state of rebellion we were kept there. We were in camp there for a few days, and then trekked down the line for about five miles to a place called Orange grove, to guard a pass, where we stopped for a few days, and then went to Mortimer to protect the line there, as Boers had wrecked a train the previous night.
Next morning (the 11th May) a troop of the 2nd T.I.B. went on patrol, under Lieutenant Blyth, and they rode into an ambush, where we lost one lad and two slightly wounded and one captured. Trooper Warburton, who was well ahead with Lance-Corporal Brownell, was fired on at close range. They fought until there was only death staring them in the face, so they shot their horses, and then Warburton received a bullet through his head and Brownell was forced to surrender. He was stripped and let go.
Next day we went out to meet them, and found them about three miles out of Dassedue, where we engaged them until well in the afternoon, and then they were forced to retire, their losses being slight and ours nil. A few days after this we joined Colonel Scobell's column, when we trekked up and down the line for a few days, and part of the column-the C.M.R. - had a small skirmish, resulting in the wounding of a Commandant and capturing him, also three or four others, and capturing thirty odd horses. We then had a few night marches of not much consequence, and then trekked to Cyphergat, where we had our first experience of snow, finding in the morning when we awoke the ground white, dotted here and there with a head poking out from under the blanket.
That day we were transferred to Colonel Gorringe's Flying Column.
That was early in June, and we then trekked towards Jamestown, and near there we had a rearguard action with the Boers, their losses being slight and ours nil. From there we trekked on towards the Basutoland border, and then on the 8th June we tried to surprise Commandant Myburg at his house, but found him missing. During the day the Boers attacked our observation post, and by the time we arrived with the guns we were only able to fire a few shots. Next day we again engaged him near Lady Grey at Dreifontein, with the Lady Grey town guard and some of the 9th Lancers on our right. We had a first-class engagement, shifting the Boers about 4 o'clock. The country was very rough and hilly, so we could not make much headway. We had several horses shot that day, but no men wounded, and the Boer losses were several. We chased them up for a few days and then went into Burghersdorp for a refit, and not before time, as some of the lads had to put blankets around themselves, whilst going through the town, for decency sake. We had a week's spell there, but I think it did us more harm than good, for the second day there it started raining, and notwithstanding that we managed to borrow a few tents from the garrison we were completely flooded out, there being from six inches to a foot of water all over the flat where we were camped by 6 o'clock in the morning, and it was 2 o'clock before we were shifted to higher ground. And before we had time to dry and air our blankets we had a mounted parade. What with an empty stomach (for our rations were all washed away) and wet clothes it was miserable. During the next few days there were ten to fifteen men going to hospital with fever daily, so it was a blessing when we got to Dornhook. We split up, B squad of Tassies and the C.P. going around by Shank's siding, a few miles above Steynsburg, and the rest of the column round by Theybus. A few miles below Steynsburg the Boers ambushed several and captured two, but we came along with the guns just in time to save the rest. It was then about dark, so we could not do much. Next day a squad of Tasmanians went into Steynsburg and were joined by C squad of the 17th Lancers (Death or Glory Boys). And no mistake they were fine fellows in fact, were like brothers. [A neat compliment to yourselves!] We were then kept on a flying patrol, under Major Sandyman, of the 17th, for a couple of months, and barring the bringing in of a few rebels and ridding the country of all the horses about the farms, we did little. But B squad with the column had more fun, for in September they had a very fair engagement, resulting in the killing of Commandant Erasmus and the capture and wounding of three more Commandants, also capturing Kritzinger, private secretary, and killing, wounding, and capturing about thirty men. During that time we were patrolling the flank of the column.
About the 6th September we again joined the column near Venterstad, and proceeded towards Dordrecht, after Commandant Smuts, who had just crossed the Orange River near Aliwal North. We then chased him around Jamestown and Dordrecht for a few days, down near Tarkastad, and.owing to the heavy rains and flooded rivers it made things very awkward for both, notwithstanding our column only had one blanket and waterproof on mules, and our rations on mules, it was difficult to proceed. But one evening we were blocked at the river-Smuts one side and we the other. We crossed to our waist to surprise the outposts, and after a smart gallop we succeeded in getting two of them; but that day's work proved fatal to us, for we drove them on to C squad of the 17th Lancers, and as Smuts was on to them in khaki they thought it. was us, and out of 109 of the 17th there were only twenty not hit. Close on 40 were killed, including all the officers but two, Major Sandyman being severely wounded, but afterwards recovering. The Boers captured about 100 horses and nearly as many mules, which gave them a good footing again. Although the Boers won the day they lost very heavily. During the next couple of weeks we regained most of the horses and captured several men, and they were fast going down the line towards Port Elizabeth, so when we left Adelaide (near King Williamstown) we started a series of night marches, having reveille at three, and sometimes marching all night. That lasted until the 1st October, when we drove them over the line at Cheldon T Sheldon] siding. We then altered reveille to 1 a.m., and came in touch with Smuts. A few days after meeting-him, in the Zuurberg ranges, near Sunday River, about noon, we engaged him till after dark, capturing a couple and killing and wounding a few. Next morning we were up again at 1 o'clock and caught up to him at noon again, but dispersed them after a few shots. It was there that Smuts was reported to have been slightly wounded in the cheek with a shrapnel bullet. A couple of days after we drove them on to Somerset District Mounted Rifles, and notwithstanding they held the heights they surrendered as soon as Smuts got within 2000 yards, so the Boers got a fresh supply of horses. (These Somerset D.M.R. were a local band of Dutch descent; they were court-martialled, but let off.) Next day we shot three on observation post, but were caught in ambush near Sunday River Valley, at Break-Neck Pass. No mistake it was a rough shop. They lined the pass, and when we were fairly in it they let go. They shot Colonel Gorringe's horse from under him and wounded an officer and two men. Their losses were one killed and seven wounded.
We dispersed them after an hour's stiff fighting. The fighting chiefly fell, on the 17th Lancers, as they were advance that day.
Smuts then split up his commando, some going across the line near Victoria West Road, on the Cape line, and others keeping to the Zuurberg ranges. We then went to Glenconnor siding for supplies and remounts.
Colonel Gorringe then left for Egypt and Lieut. - Col. Lucas took command for a few weeks. Towards the end of October we again got in touch with the Boers near New Bethesda, making a night march on them, and after a few hours' fighting we got several horses, killed three men, and captured fifteen. It was there that Corporal J. Orr, of the Second T.I.B., with two others, captured three Boers on observation post. We followed them up closely for a few days, sometimes seeing them, but not getting close enough to fire. We had much difficulty then in finding them, as they split up, we having to follow the “spoor." We then went into Biejes Poort, on the Cape line, where we broke up. The Lancers and we went to Colonel Scobell’s column, in the north -east district. That was early in November.
We trekked from Stormberg towards Jamestown, and each regiment there was working independently. We came in touch with the Boers near Roeneck, at Kray River, resulting in the death of Corporal J. Orr, T.I.B., and a 17th Lancer, and a G.F.C. and one T.I.B. captured. They were in the scouts at the time, and rode right into them. Two days after the G.F.C. killed two and captured four, including a Field Cornet. At Roeneck we had a difficult task before us, as the country there was rough and treacherous. Up to the middle of December not much occurred, only as we were chasing Fouchey (Fouchee) towards the Basuto border we captured five of his commando, and as they were getting escorted by six of the Barkly East troops to Barkly they were re-captured and one of the Barkly East troops got shot. All through that district it was very rough, steep mountains, the Eastern Drakensberg. We lost two of our scouts belonging to the G.F.C., and we continued the chase until we got them hemmed into the Basuto border, but by mistake we got into the Borderland Police, and the Boers stepped back. It was some time before we found we were fighting our own men, which resulted disastrously for the Grenadiers, and one of ours, a Lovett scout, was slightly wounded. The country was so rough that each regiment had to work independently of the other. We then went to Dordrecht for Christmas, where we spent a jolly one, with no money or clothes (it was not the War Department’ s fault), but our troop officers shelled out handsomely from their own pockets. We had a plumduff for dinner. We then trekked around the district, chiefly patrol work, bringing in an occasional rebel and a few horses, until the end of January, when we were sent to join Colonel Benjamin Doran's column to try and break up Commandant Smuts's commando, who we re getting very troublesome around Beaufort West way, and the second day out we came in touch with him about 7 a.m. Almost the first volley two of our men fell-Stewart, wounded in the leg, and North, in the head and body-and also an I.Y. officer, and as the skirmishing went on Sergeant Adams, of the T.I.B., got grazed on the thigh, also a 5th Lancer in the ear, and one captured. We were engaged for about five hours, and beat them off in the end. Judge Hugo and another Commandant were killed and another Boer mortally wounded. We then chased them on towards Carnarvon, not coming in touch with them again. A few days later we got in touch with Malan's forces outside of Richmond, at a place called Tafelberg, and had a very good running fight, which lasted all day. We met them about 6.3o a.m., and Malan and staff had a very narrow escape of being capture, he only gaining the kopjes about thirty yards ahead of us, after a five miles gallop. Then they put a volley at us, putting five bullets into one horse; but we soon got them on the go again, and kept on till well in the afternoon, resulting in Corporal Johnson, of the T.I.B., being slightly wounded, and the Boers lost Commandant Rudolph and four others killed and several badly wounded. We chased them up for a couple of days, and then captured their only Cape cart. During April Malan had several very narrow escapes from being captured, but then peace negotiations were started, so we did very little more, and early in May we started to mobilise, and the majority were very glad to go home. During the time out in Africa we saw all the fighting area of Cape Colony from the western province, which was a karoo desert, to the north-eastern district, which was a first-class grass and farming district, but only crossed the river once. That was when Kritzinger was driven across. It was at that time that Sergeant Coombs and Q.M.S. Lyne got the D.C.M., and Private Arthur Bingley took the most prominent part in the single-hand capture of Commandant Erasmus, but by some oversight another got the V.C., and Bingley was forgotten.
Our casualties were small:-Killed in action-Private Warburton and Corporal Orr. Died of disease-Q.M.S. Lyne, Private Fagan [ ? Phegan], Hutley, and Cowell. Wounded severely-Privates North and Stewart; slightly, Sergeant Adams, Corporal Johnson, Privates Burton and Saunderson.
Another, also Privates Blyth and Scott, accidentally whilst marking at target practice; and three captured. That is not a bad record out of 250 officers and men. And, in conclusion, a word for the Boers. Although not once have they attacked us, I can honestly say on one or two occasions, especially at Tafelberg, the Boers showed the greatest courage and bravery.
When one of their own was wounded they would return under a hail of bullets, strap him on his horse, and take him to a place of safety. That I saw on a few occasions, and they would never abandon a wounded comrade unless he was too bad to take away.
P.S. - Sorry I cannot give you correct dates and more full details, but as I am from home at present, cannot get my diary, but this is a correct account as far as it goes. - Yours truly, Pvt. H. S. Blackburn, 130, 2nd T.I.B.
There is no doubt about its being a correct account, as it is corroborated in every detail from other sources. It is, moreover, a very readable and vivid summary of the doings of the Second "Imperial Bushes."
LETTER FROM TROOPER G. SHEARING.
Two or three letters from Trooper Shearing have been kindly sent in.
They are mostly written on small leaves of a pocket-book. The unaffected simplicity of the narrative constitutes their interest. I shall therefore give one letter-all I have space for-with spelling and punctuation as written. I am sure it will be read with interest in that form.
Sunday, June 16, 1901, Burghersdorp Town.
Dear Mother and Father just a few lines hoping to find you all in good health as this leaves me at present we have had a rough time of it since I rote to you last we have had 3 engagements the last one we killed 22 of the enemy only one of our boys was wounded slightly we were fighting for 2 hours and then found we were shelled by our own men with the big guns the shells bursted all around us it was a misstake they took us for the boers luckly none of us was hit one bursted about 10 yards from Lieut. bisdee he is fetching a piece of it home with him we had two terrible nights in the snow without blankets. We nearly frost to death we are having week spell at present in the above Town nearly all our Tassy horses are dead, but we have got others in their place we are up on the borders of Cape Colony and the orange free states the second fight we had 2 of our men got astray we have not heard of them since that is 3 weeks ago the last fight we had was on General Myberg farm the boer leader he had 300 men with him after we drove them out we looted the place, taking everything we could lay our hands we lived on luxury for a few days the last week we have been destroying all we can get hold of it is the only way to deal with them.
I heard 2 or 3 of our chaps have returned home. I don't know if it is true they were very bad I know. I don't know where joe johnson is I have not seen this last month he lost his horse and stayed behind in a town it is very likely he will join us here before we leave. I hope he does. I have not got any letters from you yet we saw the Tasmanian mail with the chicago in it the day we were leaving we never see a paper except we come to a town, and that is not very often I wish you would try and send me a paper now and again did you get my 2 letters and the feathers I sent to you it is hard to get letters here I am getting fat over here in spite of how we have to rough it I have gained nearly a stone some of them are 2 stone heavier there is a big trial on in this town there is 20 riables getting tried I think 3 of them will stand a good chance of getting a bullet into them the others will get about 12 years hard labour a few of us went to hear the trial yesterday it is a terrible place for wood you have to burn all sorts of robous to cook your bit of tucker cow doung or anything you can pick up they stock all the manure in a heap and then cut it out in square cakes that is worth 20i a ton for fire fuel.
I will give you a bit of our last battle we knew the boers were not far away but we did not know exactly were they were we were all riding along the road together about 500 of us all merry as could be until we got into a pass a nasty place it was there was only just room for the waggons to go in the road all at once we were fired on in front there was no such a thing as retiring we could not get back for the waggons we had to run straight into the bullets they were flying around us like hail storm one hit my horse on the hoof, another hit her on the tail, going in one side and out the other.
One had the rifle knocked out of his hand with a bullet it is a mirickle that there was not 20 or more of us shot they kept blazing away at us until the big guns got to work at them that shifted them for a little while then we took our horses under cover and rouched the copji they were in then they had to run across a clear plain and how did we give it to them we knocked them in all directions then they got on another hill and they made it a bit lively for us we had to cross the same plain after them and under the same circumstances but they did not succeed in dropping any of us but they went quite close enough for me at any rate it was pitch dark when we got back to camp when we got camped I mean they gave us an extry dose of rum that night we are atached to Colonel Gorringe's flying column now are having more fighting than the rest I suppose we will stay with him now least I hope so as he is a good man I think I have told you all the news this time except that we are all hanging into rags and lousey as bandicots but that is nothing in this country we are having fine weather and getting plenty to eat and having plenty of fighting, so what more do we want but we can't get any beer that is strictly forbidden. You can't get a drink without an order from an officer and only one drink at that well I have told you all this time so good by and God bless you all. I remain your loving son, G. Shearing.
Trooper G. Shearing, 2nd Tasmanian Imp. Cont., c/o Colonel Watchorn, South Africa.
Give my love to all as you can rite as often.
From part of a letter enclosed I make the following extract:-"We had great fun at General Myberg's farm he is a boer general we looted everything he had a big engune that he used to grind his flour with we smashed it to pieces we got a fine lot of dryed fruit of all descriptions and jam and butter eggs some got a bit of money bedding and clothes any quantity of them the officers got some fine pictures we could have got some but we had no where to carry them one picture was of old Kruger and his royl family I bet it cost fifty pounds."
2nd Tasmanian Imperial Bushmen, Bufton Account, Part 2 Topic: BW - Tas - 2TIB
2nd Tasmanian Imperial Bushmen
Bufton Account, Part 2
Lieutenant-Colonel E. T. Watchorn, commanding second Tasmanian Imperial Bushmen' s contingent.
The following account is extracted from the book written by John Bufton called, Tasmanians in the Transvaal War, which was printed and published in Launceston in 1905.
John Bufton, Tasmanians in the Transvaal War, Launceston, 1905, pp. 331 – 386.
Chapter XIII, Second Tasmanian Imperial Bushmen.
SYNOPSIS. - A FAMOUS DAIRY-CAPETOWN TO RECEIVE A V.C. - O.C. ON THE GOTHIC-TROOPER JARDINE'S DIARY-"FIRST RABBIT FOR FIVE YEARS"-EXPERIENCES AND CRITICISMS-TROOPER THOMPSON'S LETTER-TROOPER A. C. PEGG'S DIARY-RETURN OF THE "TIBS." Diary of Lieutenant Bisdee, I.C.
Note. - I had extracted eighty MS. pages from this dairy, but as space forbids its inclusion I am most reluctantly compelled to use only twelve pages. It would be impossible to condense the whole, hence I have selected the first twelve pages of my original extract.
Honour and shame from no condition rise; Act well your part, there all the honour lies. - Pope.
THE first entry is dated Newtown Camp, March 22nd, 1901.
Having carefully read this admirably-written diary, I find it difficult to do justice by condensation, and I therefore propose to reproduce nearly the whole of it. Of course, there is necessarily much that is more or less monotonous in any record of the kind, but the days of apparently useless marching out and again returning are part of the game of war, and they are essential to the coherency of any record of the operations of the contingent. In parts that are more or less private names will be replaced by initials. I shall omit, for want of space, most of the notes on the voyage, where life was much the same as on other troopships.
Mr. Bisdee was a returned trooper with a much-coveted distinction, and, I may be permitted to add, a gentleman by birth and breeding, and was therefore in every way fitted for an officer's position. When he applied to Colonel Legge he was told that he was too late, but so good a man was not to be missed, and he modestly tells us:- "Next morning he told me that he had been able to get me a place in the Fifth Contingent."
On Friday I set to work to get equipped, and was soon under way.
Captain Perceval picked me a horse. She soon developed lameness, so I got another, one which Page had strongly recommended. This one is a great success.... I have been put in charge of the 3rd division of No. 1 Company, and they appear to be a very good lot of men. Sergeant Drew has had a lot of experience, both in South Africa and also in the Cuban war.
Corporal Facy I knew well before, as he was picked to go with the First Imperial Bushmen, and Lance-Corporal Orr I met on the Sydney trip, and he seems a very smart young fellow.
S.S. "Chicago," Sunday, March 31. - We embarked on Wednesday, March 27th, just a year, less one month, since our embarkation on the "Manhattan." Referring to his mother he says: I am glad to say she was more cheerful at my departure on this occasion. It was hard to tear oneself away after so brief and pleasant a time at home.... A large crowd assembled at the wharf, but people were not nearly so enthusiastic as on former occasions. We had not much time to say good-bye to all friends and relations, and I fear I must have missed many out. I received a number of presents just at last from [a list of young ladies with pretty names!], which came as a very pleasant surprise.
We made a start at about 12.30 noon, and soon got out of sight of “home."... The following morning the Tasmanian Contingent presented a sorry spectacle, and "stables" were attended by about a dozen men.... There are still a number hors de combat. Dr. Bingham Crowther is on board going to South Africa with us, and is taking great pains to improve their lot. [The brave lieutenant was ill also, but, being orderly officer, he had to set his teeth and] "had to set too whether I could or no, and consequently was much better for it." Referring to the men's food, he proceeds:-The officers' mess compares rather favourably with this: Oysters, fish, soup, all sorts of poultry, cold joint, vegetables, salads, puddings and pastry, and fruits. With a bill of fare like this every day one is tempted to think that some of these delicacies might have been spared for the men. At any rate, they might have got good butter and plenty of jam.
To-day being Sunday a church parade was held in the troop deck.
Colonel Watchorn asked me to read the lessons, and I got Dr. Crowther to read the sermon. The room was rather stuffy, but it went off very well.
The doctor's sermon was rather long, for which I got the anathemas of most of the congregation! [Be shorter next time, doctor.]... Brent and I seem to be the only performers on the piano, but most of us can make a noise, which at times is rather overpowering in this small saloon.
Just now five or six of the officers are singing songs decidedly secular or comic-spoiling Sunday evening.
Thursday, April 5th, 1901. - Passed Cape Leeuwin, W.A., yesterday, and saw the last of Australia for some time. So far have had rough weather and head winds, and have not made more than 10 knots. Last Tuesday evening the men gave a concert on the lower deck, in which some of the officers joined - Brent, Spencer, and Reynolds. Some of the songs were very good. Boxing was the order of the day Wednesday evening....
Was sorry to lose Groom (transferred to No. 4), but got a good man in his place, Corporal Laughton (Paddy's brother).
One horse died a day or two ago, over which a long enquiry was held, which did not appear to elicit much information. Have been reading Wolseley's " Soldier's Pocket Book," which contains much useful information.
He evidently knew what he was writing about.... Read also the Gospels and Epistles set apart for this week (Passion). To-morrow will be Good Friday.... Yesterday (Easter Monday) we had a great day's sports, the chief interest being centred in the tug-of-war between divisions. This was carried off by No. 1 division in the first company, a doughty set of men. Of course the 3rd division was just as good! But somehow or other they got beaten.... In the final heat of the obstacle race an unfortunate accident happened, G. Blythe breaking his leg at the shin through slipping on the ladder.... The only other competition there was time for was pillow fighting on a greasy pole over a sail full of water, which was most amusing.
On Easter Sunday we had a service on deck. It was my turn for orderly officer, and I was unfortunate enough to come across a sentry asleep at his post, and had to report him. This is a most serious offence, punishable with death when on active service. The colonel, however, let him off with two days in cells, after enlarging upon the enormity of the offence. It is one of the duties which I dislike, but, of course, discipline must be preserved.
Thursday, 11th, 1901. - Yesterday went through the ordinary routine.
In the afternoon took charge of our division, and had to put them through various extension motions and physical drill.
War on board! A much more serious offence, however, is the incapacity through drink of -. He was confined to his room, but broke his arrest and collected the non-coms together to ask them to stand by him against the officers. He will probably be suspended for the remainder of the voyage, and tried by court-martial at Capetown.
Saturday, April 10th. - We have now arrived close to Port Elizabeth, where we are going for coal and instructions. The sports committee finished up by a concert. The colonel presented the prizes to the winners of the heavy and light weight boxing contests to Private Isles and Lance- Corporal Edwards respectively, complimenting them on their coolness and pluck. Both Iles and Edwards attempted to respond, and succeeded in saying what they did not mean. The coastline appears familiar, as it is about ten months since I was along here before.
Sunday, April 21st. - Port Elizabeth. Beautiful day. Held a short service on deck as usual. Full dress parade. Seven of us went ashore this afternoon, but were not prepossessed with what we saw. Electric trams were very good, and run smoothly, but with the exception of the middle of the town, where there are some very fine buildings, there is not much to see. The people are a very heterogeneous lot, the native element being very evident, and in some cases apparently very well off. I saw one little black girl going to Sunday school in bright blue plush and red satin, with stockings and shoes to match.
I see by the papers that Plumer has got into Pietersburg, and that Lieutenant Walter has been shot, which I am extremely sorry to hear. I hoped we should have had a hand in clearing that line. Perhaps we shall now. The Boers appear to have been very much harassed everywhere, but are still holding out, although in a very sorry plight.
Wednesday, April 24th. - Railway. Here we are again speeding on the same route to the front as about 10 months ago we travelled to Kroonstad.
Our destination this time, however, is Cradock, north of Cape Colony, where a small commando has been giving some trouble. We are to join Colonel Hague, who is scouring the district with a flying column. We left the “Chicago" this morning, sending away a tremendous load of baggage in two lighters, and leaving ourselves by another. We first marched up to the stores, where the men were supplied with rifles and the officers with carbines, and then we went to the Feather Market, where the good people of Port Elizabeth had prepared a lunch for us, which was very acceptable. They go to a lot of trouble to receive contingents hospitably, as a great many troops have lately passed through here since the plague in Capetown.
I did not meet any of those I had met before, but someone let the cat out of the bag, and I was soon seized upon for signatures. After being fully equipped as to arms and ammunition we marched the 1st Company down to the station, and made a start about 1.30 p.m., the others following about three hours later. As to the journey, the country is greener than on my former trip, and there seems to be a little grass about. The rainy season has just com to an end-or rather I hope so.
Cradock, Saturday, April 27, 1901. - We arrived here at about 8.30 on Thursday morning. The second train caught up to us once on the way, and arrived here about an hour after us. We immediately started to detrain the horses, and were soon in a grand muddle. No breakfast, no arrangement for feeding horses, not enough nosebags, and about a dozen trucks to unload. The Q.M.S. got orders to issue no rations till the trucks were unloaded-goodness knows why! I had No. 1 Company marched up to the “tucker" truck and given a ration of biscuits and bully beef, after which they got to work with a will. Eventually we got all our horses and baggage out to camp, about half a mile out, and then set to putting up our bivouacks.
The amount of equipment drawn is something wonderful, far more than we require. All our saddles were condemned at Port Elizabeth and English cavalry and Australian saddles were sent out in place of them. The former are fairly good, but rather heavy. The others are awful things, and I hope we shall be able to get some of our own back. We have telegraphed for them to come up. There was a parade this afternoon in full marching order, and, barring the saddles, everyone was fairly well equipped. The Q.M.S. has a lot of stuff to return. Suche was given a command to-day in No. 1 company in the place of M'Cormick, who is appointed adjutant. Hewill make a smart officer, and seems a very good chap.
Roodwal Camp, T.I.B.C., Thursday, May 2nd. - We shifted camp to this spot yesterday, arriving here about II-3o a.m. We were some time getting off on account of getting all the spare baggage packed up. We have eight wagons, two Scotch carts, one Cape cart, and four pack mules, which seems a lot for 25o men. On Sunday we had some mounted drill, as usual, and in the evening went to the English Church, 68 men and M'Cormick and myself, and we packed the little church full, although the clergyman, Mr. Lee, had got a lot of chairs specially for us. He is a jolly old chap, a regular Irishman. One of the hymns was "for absent friends," which I suspect he had on purpose. On Monday and Tuesday the ordinary camp routine went on, nothing much to do except issuing equipment, of which we have far too much. I went into Cradock several times to get several things, such as a lantern and light axe, and also a light canvas tent, which Blyth and I, who sleep together, had made on the Egyptian principle, and it is a great success in every way. On Tuesday afternoon the division leaders took charge, and gave some patrolling and skirmishing exercises. Thursday Night, May 2nd. - Out on outpost with my division. The Boers having been seen close round we have to be on the alert. I have only one non -com. to post the men, Corporal Orr, so I am doing non-com.'s work myself. Robinson and Taylor are on other picquets. We have a lovely moonlight night, and I am writing this by moonlight, sitting in a Kaffir kraal, having just been round the outposts.
There are several farmers about here, mostly Dutchmen, and some of these are keeping the Boers going. The farm next our camp belongs to a Mr. Michan, who claims to be of French extraction, and very loyal, but one has to be very careful and not believe all you hear. He is very well off, having made a fortune out of goats and ostriches. He is a great believer in Angora goats.
Sunday, May 5th, 1901. Line Bank. - Received orders last night to shift camp to here, which is down the line i3 miles from Cradock. This is only about five miles from Rood Wal, but we had to go nearly all the way back to Cradock to get on to the road here, as the hills intervening are very steep. A commando of Boers is reported to be only about five miles from here (Scheeper's), so we may possibly have a scrape shortly. We have a very good camping-ground, not shut in like out last, and consequently much easier to look after, not requiring half the number of outposts. We are close to a farm occupied by an ex-Australian "jackeroo," who treats us right royally. He asked us all into lunch when we arrived at about 2.30 p.m., and invites us there whenever we feel inclined to go. He is a young fellow, married, apparently about four years. The only other inmate of the house besides his wife and young children is a lady help or governess, Miss Andrew. (His name is Drake.) It is pleasant to see an Australian again. On Friday the Colonel, Adjutant, and I rode out along the Graaf Reinet-road, and, through a very deep pass, which was fortunately clear of the enemy, otherwise we should probably have been wiped out. Yesterday Blyth and I rode into Cradock to arrange for the parson to come out to-day, but he was ill in bed. It was fortunate that no arrangement was made, as we moved on.
Friday, May 10th, 1901. An Eventful Week. - Monday I spent in camp, being O.O. for the day. I did some reading and writing. In the afternoon reports of all sorts came in re Boers being all over the place, and a party of 4o Boers attacked the C.M.Rs. at Cradock. The Colonel took this as a feint, as no possible good could come of it, and expected an attack on the camp. Consequently all the men were roused out at 10 p.m., and started to dig trenches and fix up bag shelters, and putting out pickets all over the place. We then lay in the trenches all night; and wasn't it cold! The attack never came off, however, and morning arrived without any excitement. The men could not make out what it was all about, and were rather sorry it ended in nothing. On Tuesday reports still flew about, and I was sent out with a strong patrol to patrol Mortimer and down the valley towards Drennan and back. Hallam and Chalmers were sent out to Dreifontein. I visited several farms-Jordaun's, De Klerk's, Biltings, and several others. Mr. and Mrs. Jordaun were at Cradock, but an old man and his elderly daughter were there. I tried to gain some information from them, but could not get much. We noticed two men galloping away from the house before we came, but this they denied. I think they are very suspicious. De Klerk is supposed to be very loyal, but I ha'e ma doots. These Dutch seem to be very clannish.
We arrived home at dark very tired, so I had some tea, and soon turned in. I had not been in bed half an hour, however, when despatches came in for our regiment to mover out at once and guard the line from Mortimer to Dassu Dieu, so as to keep the Boers from crossing the line westwards. Boot and saddle without delay, and by 10 p.m. we were on the march. Lovely moonlight night, just the time for a good march. Every man was well armed, and we had no waggons, all provisions, etc., etc., were to come on the following day. We marched along exactly the same route as I had been that afternoon, and nothing eventful occurred on the way.
We surrounded one suspected house and searched it, finding all right. We halted at Drennan at about 3 a.m., until daylight. We expected to meet Boers at every turn, but found the way clear. After dividing what rations were on the waggons amongst the men, we started on again. We had been leaving various divisions along the line. Hallam and I were the last two between Dassu Dieu and Stone Bridge, about two miles. We passed over some very rough ground to get there, which Suche had to protect, but which did not need it. I placed two picquets out, and Hallam two, and we were prepared and even anxious to receive cavalry that night. We had no provisions, expecting some to come by every train. On Wednesday night our picquet heard several loud explosions, which they supposed to be the Boers blowing up the line, and they proved correct. They broke it up and cut the telegraph wires not far from Suche's outposts, and got through. In the afternoon of Thursday Blyth took a patrol towards Ganna Hoek, and got caught by a party of Boers in a narrow pass and had to run the gauntlet. He got three men wounded-one seriously, being shot through the head-and four horses. Brownell had his horse shot, and, after wounding several Boers, had to surrender, having run out of ammunition. He was stripped of everything, save his trousers, and sent away back. Warburton, the badly -wounded man, was brought in an ambulance, and has been sent to Cradock. He had a piece of his skull shot off, but when the ambulance came to him he was asleep and snoring!! On Tuesday evening we received orders to concentrate at Mortimer. This meant another night march for us, but we are getting used to doing without sleep, or snatching it when we can. We had had no provisions while we were at Dassu Dieu, but we soon replenished our larder by commandeering some flour and baking powder, butter, fowls, mealie, and salt, sowe were well supplied. A large consignment of rations arrived by train just as we were starting back. These we sent back. We arrived here (Mortimer) at about 9 p.m., after a very dark and unpleasant ride. We missed the road several times, till Leigh Hewitt came to the rescue several times and guided us. We got orders last night to reconnoitre about Ganna Hoek, and made a reconnaissance in force. About 150 men went out, and soon came across the Boers. Several men rode up too far ahead, and got fired upon, whereupon they lost no time in retiring. We had three divisions on each side of the road, on the hills, dismounted, and we returned the fire. No damage was done on either side, and we returned at about 2.30 p.m., having located their position. Camp here at Mortimer is not a very good one, being pitched on a series of rubbish heaps. We are quartered in a large room, apparently built as a store. Fifty C.M.Rs. stationed here under Captain Booth and Lieutenant Taylor.
Saturday, May 11th. - All available hands went out again to-day to Ganna Hoek, and found the Boers had decamped. Kopjes very steep and strong; splendid grass; abundance of game. Arrived home very late and very tired.
Sunday, May 12th. Halesowen. - Late up. Sleeping in the big room at Mortimer. Arranged for patrol to go out to get horses seen yesterday, but orders came to shift camp at once to Halesowen. We arrived here at 4 p.m., and pitched camp on an open rise. Marching all day in a duststorm.
Elliot's farm, three miles north of Cradock, Wednesday, May 15th. - Arrived here at about 2.30 yesterday, staying at Heathcote's farm at Halesowen only one day. During that time I stayed in camp and spent most of the time writing letters.
TROOPER THOMPSON'S LETTER.
Sir,-You have kindly asked me to write an account of our doings in South Africa.
We left Tasmania on March 27th, 1901, and after a very pleasant passage arrived at Port Elizabeth about April 24th. We disembarked four days later, and took train for Cradock, about 170 miles inland.
Cradock is rather a nice little town itself, but the surroundings are anything but pleasant, there being only karoo veldt and a few mimosa bushes scattered along the low ridges. We had about four days there, getting our horses in going order; and then we went on trek. Our first business was patrolling the line for some distance below Cradock, and it was whilst doing this that we had our first encounter with the Boers. We cannot take much credit for the fight, as everyone was new at the game, so we did not then do much damage.
Shortly after this we joined Colonel Scobell's column, and had the extreme pleasure of knowing what it was like to be jerked over a big lot of country surrounding an imaginary enemy, and experiencing some very rough weather. I can't help saying it, but I think Colonel Scobell was a fool; he had a lot of niggers for Intelligence, and the way they had in surrounding other columns was something deadly. I will give you an instance of his cleverness. He had us marching from 6 one morning till about 4 the next morning, and then he posted us all along some ridges, to wait till the Boers, as we supposed, came along. The party we were waiting for came all right, but they weren't Boers at all: it turned out to be Colonel Gorringe's column, and Colonel Scobell and his black scouts were heartily wished to be somewhere else outside Africa. - Almost immediately after the above affair we became attached to Colonel Gorringe's column, and found out what hard work was in real earnest; but with Colonel Gorringe it was not so annoying. He worked us very hard, but we had the satisfaction of knowing that it was not all a wild-goose chase. On the third or fourth day after joining him we had our second bout with the Boers, and we did much better work than on the previous occasion, and gave every satisfaction to all concerned.
Colonel Gorringe complimented us on our smart work, and had never credited Tasmania with producing such good fighting blood.
We remained with Colonel Gorringe for seven months, and in that period we were made acquainted with the ins and outs and ups and downs of guerrilla warfare. We trekked harder, lived rougher (and had very little satisfaction for it) than any other column on the field. We also hold the record for both long and short marches. Our short march was after General Smuts, who, I must say, had marvellous luck in escaping us. For four weeks we were on his heels every day, and in that time we covered something between 750 and 800 miles. Our longest day was 64 miles in 24 hours. It was at the close of that long march that Colonel Gorringe left us to take an appointment in Egypt. We were all sorry at his leaving, as he was a thorough gentleman, and there was not a man in Africa more keen on the Boers than he was. We started with him without any reputation, and when he left us we were considered one of the best fighting regiments in Cape Colony. Our next move was with a Colonel Lukin. He was O.C. of the C.M.R.'s, but he did not reign very long. I think too much of the little black bottle was his chief trouble, so they appointed him to something in charge of a district where there were no Boers.
We next joined Colonel Scobell again, and found that he had changed his scouts, but was still as erratic in his movements as ever. He had made a name for himself in the time that we were away. He had, with more luck than good management, got Lotter and commando boxed up, and the consequences were that he carried another star on his shoulder, and a chest like a pouter pigeon! Our second dose with him was of three months' duration, and it was a very hard dose to swallow with all hands.
We had to continually replace our scouts, as more often than not when they went out they were either killed or wounded. I think that there must have been a lot of the sky pilot about him. He never seemed satisfied with the veldt, but always had us climbing mountain after mountain, with no possible benefit. He finally ended by dragging us to the top of the Drakensberg Range, about 85ooft. high, and then back to Dordrecht, our headquarters for Christmas. Here he took suddenly ill, to everyone's relief, and was ordered home. After dodging about for a week or two, we entrained at Stormberg junction, to join Colonel Doran. He was the slowest man we had been with, but somehow we managed to have several bouts with the Boers, and each time improving our reputation.
He liked us very well as fighting men, but I think if it had been possible for him to have got another regiment he would have dispensed with our services. He tried to run the column on as cheap a line as possible and the T.I.B. had altogether different ideas on the subject. It was a sore point with the colonel to have to give a farmer compensation for his garden being destroyed and his fencing poles taken for firewood. He had stacks of guards to see that nothing was touched, and any amount of fresh orders; but he might have saved himself the trouble, as the most honest man in civil life will become the biggest thief on active service, and the Tasmanians generally were no exception toy the rule. They seemed to delight in stealing anything that came in sight.
We did our full 12 months of active service, and although we were the first regiment to be called upon for anything that required pluck and dash, although we had such regiments as the 17th and 9th and 5th Lancers, also Connaught Rangers, on the same columns with us, we were always preferred to any of the others. [Speak up, Tassie!] The Boers I think were good fighters; they seemed to have real good judgment, and were very stubborn when they liked; but I cannot say the same for the Dutchmen, who used to join the colonial corps, and others who were used for Intelligence; they appeared to be the wasters, as they would sooner run than show fight. I think it was chiefly on this account that so many good men lost their lives. They would be mixed up with a lot of different nationalities in an irregular corps, and put too much faith in them, and in consequence were left in the lurch when it came to a tight corner.
I hope my poor effort will meet with your approval, and also that I have not gone beyond your limits; so I will close with wishing you every success with your publication.
A. C. Pegg's Diary.
April 24, 1901. - Landed in South Africa. At Port Elizabeth was entrained for Cradock, after being served with rifles, bandoliers, and bayonets. Our horses are sent on after us. Stay until the 1st May in -Cradock, and get fully equipped. A few articles of what are drawn:-Saddles and bridles, patrol cans, nose bags, emergency rations, and field bandages for the troopers, and a full convoy, including waggons and mules, Scotch carts, Cape carts, with black boys for drivers, made up of kaffirs chiefly.
May 1. - Move out of Cradock to hold the railway line about a day's march south, halting first at a siding called Limebank, where we threw up earthworks in front of trenches. From Limebank we move to Mortimer, still on the railway line.
May 7. - Boers under Scheeper's blow up and cross the railway line -a mile or two Cradock side of Mortimer.
May 8. - First troop of "A" Squadron go out patrolling, and are ambushed at a place called Ganna Hoek by Scheeper’s commando. Jack Warburton is fatally wounded, Saunderson and Burton slightly wounded about the head. Warburton and Brownell are taken prisoners and taken into the Boer lines, where three of the enemy lie wounded. Brownell gets the D.C.M. for fighting until the ammunition runs out which he carries, while the body of the unconscious man, Warburton, is lying near him.
These men, when they knew there was no escape, shot their horses. About a half-dozen horses are shot.
May 9. - The squadrons go out and have another skirmish with Boers. They retire after a couple of hours' fighting. Our casualties are nil.
May 11. - Hear that J. Warburton has succumbed to his wound, which is through the top of the head. This is Tasmania's first cable of our arrival.
May 12. - Move towards Cradock again, but halt at a siding, Snowdon. Heavy rain.
May 14. - Move through Cradock and halt at a camp previously called Starvation. Very -cold. Saw a very large tribe of baboons.
May 16. - Join Colonel Scobel at Cradock and move north.
May 17. - March 42 miles. Halt finally at i i p.m. The Tasmanian horses suffer severely from cold, want of food of an acquired taste, and long marches.
May ig. - The scouting intelligence of the column engage about 40 Boers.
May 21. - Split up the column. Tasmanians move Cradock way, while a patrol of Brabant's Horse go out to the east. They capture 40 Boer horses.
May 22. - Get some remounts, mostly Cape ponies. Tasmanian horses dying very fast. The dismounted men are sent on to Conway by rail, not having enough remounts.
May 24. - Move from Conway towards Middelburg, but turn back and go Maraisburg -road. The big guns have some practice in honour of the late Queen Victoria. Saw an immense flock of spring bok.
May 25. - A continuation of saddle up and unsaddle owing to so many despatches coming.
May 26. - Move through Maraisburg late at night. In afternoon through bad intelligence we are galloped on to a position which the Boers are supposed to be holding, about six miles from the town. Return to Flaak Poort. Two Tasmanians break their horses' necks.
May 29. - Start to climb the Stormberg Ranges. Very cold. Snowing fast. Two men nearly die with the cold. Our blankets are not able to be brought up after us. Allowed no camp fires, as the commando of Boers, which are in our front, are camped at the bottom. In the morning our rifles have to be heated over fires owing to the bolts being frozen fast. We are also very ragged, not able to get enough clothing. Colonel Watchorn was our officer.
June 1. - Climb higher up the mountains to a small coaling town, Syphergat. Colonel Scobel leaves us. He gives us a good working name in our presence. Still terribly cold. Our blankets are stiff of a morning with snow, sleet, frost, etc.
June 2. - Go off the mountains to join Colonel Gorringe.
June 4. - Working with Gorringe. We engage a few Boers for about an hour. Mobile columns driving the Boers north. We fire on our own men to stop them from riding into the Boers at a farmhouse.
June 5. - Pass hundreds of dead horses through the day. Some every few yards.
June 7. - After Myburgh's commando. Loot his house in the Ladygrey district. Major Murray shells the Boers on our right flank. A rush to arms, and hold some kopjes on Myburgh's farm. A spy is caught by the C.D.F.
June 8. - Move back on the Ladygrey-road. Locate the enemy at a farm, Driefontein. A column is supposed to be holding a pass in their rear, but through some small incident fail to get there. The big guns first open on the Boers. “A" squadron of Tasmanians are ordered to the left flank, and "B" to the right, while the colonials of Cape Colony are sent round to hold a pass on the rear right flank. The Tasmanians advance very fast on to the Boer position, which is a very flat-topped kopje, and a splendid position to retire from. The R.H.A. are covering the Tasmanians ' advance; but they advance so quickly that we are taken for the Boers, and two pom-poms and two 15-pounders are turned on us, but with no effect, although the shells burst all around. Intelligence says that 16 of the enemy were killed or wounded, while one of our men was missing, and two or three wounded, belonging to the C.D.F. Hear that the Boers are fighting among themselves, some wishing to surrender.
June 10. - Cross Kraal River for the fourth time, going towards Burghersdorp. Tommies stick their arms in a tree for honey up to the shoulder, and the old Dutch lady calls them anything but gentlemen.
June 13. - Camp in an oat paddock near Burghersdorp. The G.F.C. give a social on the eve of their departure.
June 14. - Move through Burghersdorp and halt near. We are issued with a pound of wood or coal per man per day to do cooking. The object of our camp is for rest and warm clothing, which is fulfilled before going on trek again.
June 21. - Issued with bell tents, but have not time to trench them.
About midnight starts to rain in torrents, and continues all next day. We are flooded out of bed, the tents also are flooded. Our camp is like a lagoon, saddles, bridles, blankets, rifles, bandoliers, and, in fact, all accoutrements are washing about in the water. The consequences being that after a lot of Tasmanians and others are sent to the hospitals suffering from different complaints. Our missing men turn up by train. The two we fired on galloped into Major Murray's column. A return social to C.D.F.
June 27. - Move out on Steynsburg-road. Our rest was much enjoyed. The garrison play Tasmanians and Tommies football, mostly Rugby. Tug-of-war, tent pegging, and riding young horses spend a great deal of time. The remount camp near Burghersdorp had 3360 young horses in it, mostly farmers' wild ones driven in. Carry 200 rounds of ammunition per man. From 27th until July 2 we travel Steynsburg direction in zig-zag style. Having mostly 3 a.m. reveille, and find it very cold. Between Stormberg and Steynsburg there was wild game in abundance of nearly every sort.
July 2. - The Tasmanians split in halves, "B" Squadron going tinder Colonels Watchorn and Gorringe, and "A" Squadron under Captain Henderson.
July 3. - Cut railway line at Theibus Siding, near Steynsburg.
Gorringe's scouting intelligence engage a Boer patrol, and have a willing time for a few hours, losing nearly all their horses; and but for the timely assistance of the column with the big guns, would have lost them all, and perhaps been taken prisoners. J. Orr, T.I.B., had his horse shot dead under him; and Scritchley, Tasmania, had his water-bottle blown off.
July 6. - Captain Henderson, with "A" Squadron of Tasmanians, <joins Captain Sandiman, of the 17th Lancers, to hold a pass in the mountains six miles from Steynsburg. Patrols are sent out every day to reconnoitre the surrounding country. From here we go bok shooting.
The hills are abounding with deer of many kinds. Van Reenan's home is near our camp.
July 8. - Break up camp and move to Steynsburg, where we wait for a convoy to go patrolling in the rear of various columns. George Blyth, who broke his leg on "Chicago," going to South Africa, joins us again.
July 11. - Leave for four days' patrol, fully equipped. The Tasmanian advance guard over very mountainous country. Halt at a place where we get orders to hold Doorn Hoek, and a very treacherous-looking place 22 miles from town.
July 12. - Doorn Hoek. - Parties go out deer shooting with much success. The first and second troop Tasmanians go on Cossack post.
Orders given in case of an attack to take and give no quarter. Have to shift camp owing to so much dust; was just blinding. Camp alongside of Van Reenan's father's farm. Allowed 5lb. of oats per day per horse.
July 15. - Move close to Maraisburg, and camp, and leave five men with some spare rations, but the Boers drive them away; but they burn the foodstuffs first. The object of our patrol is mostly to pick up a few rebel farmers, burn anything in the line of grain and grain flour, old arms or ammunition, and, in fact, any contraband of war; also shoot all wild horses, that seem to be very plentiful. Getting very hard work, climbing mountains, doing outposts and fatigues. A patrol goes out, consisting of 20 men, for a rebel farmer. The way his wife and family take it to heart is only a sight for times of war, as he only had a few moments to bid them good-bye, and for how long nobody knew. Every day we seem to be expecting a skirmish with the Boers, but the columns in our front keep the country clear.
July 17. - Move on over very rough country to the Stormberg Ranges, to where we spent the night of the 29th of May, and, similar to that night, it was snowing. After leaving Menzie's Nek we next made for Molteno, having always to get rations from the garrisoned places.
July 20. - Move back towards Steynsburg, through Doorn Hoek, but turn south again. Take a rebel for having in his possession enough provisions to last Too men some few days. We were issued with what was for the enemy, so did not mind a rebel of his sort, on the condition that we could catch him at the right time. We also found two horses at an Englishman’s farm in a donga, with two sheets of tin over them. They were useless, as they were more bone than flesh.
July 23. - Pass through Maraisburg, and halt at Vlaak Poort for two days.
July 25. - Have two or three days' climbing the mountains; it is thought to shoot wild horses. At night come down to camp, a very tedious journey, and to us for very little reason. About 7000 feet was scaled each day, and so rough that our horses were continually falling on the incline. After leaving the mountains make towards Tarkastadt.
July 30. - Tarkastadt. - Have a concert at the Soldiers' Home at night.
The Tasmanians take a prominent part. Some Tasmanian sergeants come from Captain Lewis to join us.
August 1. - Move south to Winterberg Ranges. Tarkastadt Town Guard are attached to us for a few days. The columns are forming a cordon round Kritzinger.
August 2. - Halt on the mountains. Our cordon round the enemy is 4o miles long. We throw up sangers and dig trenches at a place called Zuur Plaats, do observation posts, outposts, and patrol the country fpr miles round. Near here the Tasmanians caught a Dutchman moulding bullets; also got a lot of out -of-date firearms. Kritzinger attacks the 17th Lancers to break the cordon, but without success; but afterwards breaks through the Midland Mounted Rifles, a Cape colonial corps.
August 7. - Left for Modderfontein afterwards, the scene of the 17th Lancers' reverse, when the officers of "C" Squadron were all either killed or wounded seriously, and 42 of the men killed and 30 odd wounded, out of 106. We halted at night near the finest orange grove that I ever saw, the size of them being immense, and growing as thick as the trees could hold them.
August 10. - We enter Maraisburg. Saw some immense flocks of spring bok. Do not think I am exaggerating when I say that there were thousands.
August 12. - Maraisburg. - Amuse ourselves by tug-of-war among the troops. This town only for one and one-half English families would be entirely Dutch, although in a long-possessed British colony. The Boers have taken a blockhouse between Maraisburg and Steynsburg, and crossed the line. Very heavy volley firing.
August 14. - Reville at 3 a.m., and gallop about six miles to reinforce Gorringe, who has surprised Kritzinger's commando and been fighting for some days, capturing Commandant Erasmus and a Field Cornet, as well as about go horses, with all equipments, blankets, and provisions. A despatch sends us back to Steynsburg for supplies for Gorringe's flying column.
August 16. - We start after Gorringe with an oxen convoy, consisting of 720 oxen and 70 black boy drovers. It is useless to try and tell what sort of a noise was made by these natives. We pass over the ground that has been fought over. Empty shrapnel were found lying about. Some half-dozen cases were found within a few yards of a farmhouse, while the contents were found strewn for -chains around. Empty cartridge boxes were found, showing that the men had evidently used their own bandolier supply and drawn on the convoy ammunition, while behind each rock were lying hundreds of empty Lee-Metford cartridge cases. An escort meet the waggons from Peuterstadt, and we return to Steynsburg.
August 21. - After getting remounts we again make for Peuterstadt, where w-- remained until G.F.C. comes along for us. They have crossed the river after the enemy into the Orange Free State. Twice while we were waiting we are informed by bad intelligence that the Boers are attacked by some unknown column, which meant saddle up and get away at a moment's notice. The rest of the time was spent patrolling, cricketing, writing, reading.
September 5. - Move out of Peuterstadt a few miles to join G.F.C., and leave the 17th Lancers, who return Tarkastadt way. We move off Burghersdorp direction, and, instead of dog biscuits, we are issued with 1lb. of flour per man.
September 10. - We are going Jamestown direction. The weather is getting very cold. Get another drenching at night. Plenty of snow.
September 13. - Near Sterkstroom the weather was cold beyond a joke. We are following up Smuts's commando with between 700 and 800 men.
September 15. - Swamped out of bed at midnight. Make a fire and lie down by it in my great coat. Roads in very bad state; impassable for convoy.
September 17. - Raining still, but not so heavy. A hasty reveille; about 10 minutes to get up, get scoff, roll bedding, and saddle up and move off, the object being to capture a Boer picket of five men before daylight, and then surround the whole commando, but owing to a donga being flooded we were unable to cross, so that when we found a crossing place it was near daylight. When the first man put his head over the skyline the Dutchmen fired explosive bullets at him. Then we all opened fire, and they put up their hands, but as the firing never ceased they thought they may as well be shot getting away as standing with their hands up; and were therefore able to inform their Commandant that we had made a move from the place where we camped for two days owing to the wet weather. Our prisoners proved to be two Free Staters who had been all through the campaign, from the very first shot, and neither had been even wounded or sick. One, on being asked as a joke where his girl was, replied that she was alright in a concentration camp; and when asked about the proclamation on the 15th September, 1901, he said that he had heard of so many proclamations that he took no heed of them, and treated them, likewise to his comrades, with contempt.
September 21. - Since the 17th have been getting very hard marching, and very little food for three days; scarcely getting anything but what we could pick up ourselves in the line of bread, mealie flour, mealies, poultry, pumpkins, etc., but found these very short. We also do very late marching and very early reveilles, chasing Smuts south into the Cradock district.
September 24. - Travelling slightly north since the 21st. Our convoy is lightened. Every man that has two blankets is ordered to burn one; also, if you have any spare kit of any sort, such as extra clothing, curios, etc., they have to be done away with. Each mule is to carry 20 men's bedding. Nearly every day we have seen some few of the enemy, who seem to have been killing a lot of horses, mostly English, which were taken from the 17th Lancers on the 17th. Sight the Tarkastadt Hills.
"B" Squadron of 17th Lancers take some prisoners wearing their comrades ' clothing, i.e., British; one having on a peculiar striped shirt belonging to the late adjutant. These were immediately shot. They were also wearing the "death or glory" badges (Lancers).
September 27. - Since the 24th been travelling south, getting one or two prisoners every day, and among them were two Europeans. We get into very mountainous country, with an abundant growth of shrubs and grass. Been doing all night marching.
September 28. - I was kicked by a remount from Sheldon Siding, and was rendered unconscious for three and a half days. Was sent to Grahamstown Public Hospital, where I was taken care of splendidly by Doctors Drury and Williams. After the column had been remounted they moved out to surround the commando, on an all-night march, at a farmhouse in the Sunday River Valley, but owing to false intelligence on the part of our scouts surrounded the next farm to where the commando were camped. From now until the 14th of November I heard very little of the column, only that they had been doing some very hard marching over extra rough country, and doing some little fighting, killing a terrible lot of horses, and sending a great number of men to the hospital who were unable to stand the hard work, night marching, little sleep, foot slogging, and, worse than all, the scarcity of food.
November 14. - The Tasmanians are detrained at Stormberg from Biesje's Poort, where we join Scobel. Gorringe is leaving to fill a position in Egypt.
November 15. - We move out Molteno direction, but turn afterwards towards Jamestown. Take an oxen convoy as far as Jamestown.
November 18. - Our scouts are surprised by a Boer patrol on Fuchee's commando. We have three men killed and three wounded. Jack Orr, of the Tasmanians, was killed, Geo. Blyth taken prisoner after being stripped, while T. Lyall had a very narrow escape. The other men who were killed were first wounded, and then afterwards shot with a revolver.
November 19. - Camp all day near Private Orr's grave. Lieutenant Bisdee, V.C., reads a burial service over him, and then his grave is done up splendidly by the men.
November 20. - Moving through very rough country. Take six prisoners belonging to a newly-formed commando of a deserted soldier from the Cape Police and another colonial corps. These men were surprised while bathing in a dam.
November 22. - Move into the Drakensberg- Mountains. Doing a lot of night marching.
November 24. - Besters, the deserted prisoner, is shot by the 17th Lancers. He proves to be a very brave man.
November 26. - Patrolling the Jamestown district. Have a few exciting chases after small parties of the enemy, getting one or two prisoners and a bit of saddlery, horses, rifles, etc.
December 1. - Move towards Basutoland border way. Very heavy rain and very wet blankets.
December 4. - Have crossed Kraal River on the De Wet bridge. A night surprise on Myburgh's house, but the commandant is missing.
December 5. - Re-cross Kraal River going to Dordrecht. Tasmanians on patrol nearly every day and night.
December 18. - Up to the 18th, where we met a convoy of supplies, we have been having a very rough time in the mountains round Barkley East, not being able to get enough to eat, and killing a lot of horses, which means that a lot of men are left walking. We had one man taken prisoner whilst scouting.
December 20. – We camped near Dordrecht, where all the other corps got outfitted with clothing, rifles, saddlery, and remounts but the Tasmanians, and it does not seem to matter about them. Spending a few days of camp life.
December 25. - Have a church parade on the veldt. All ranks attend.
Only the men actually on duty are absent. Get a duff from the field force, also tobacco, cigarettes, pipe, matches, and paper and envelopes. Have a concert in the evening. Go some miles out with a mule waggon and get posts out of a farmer's fence to burn for wood.
December 27. The column moves out Barkley East direction. I stay at Dordrecht, and take some prisoners, under a Seaforth Sergeant and ten men, to Bloemfontein. One was a very shrewd-looking German, who had twice before escaped his captors.
January 23. - I joined the Tasmanians again at Dordrecht.
January 24. - All but a few details go out on patrol Jamestown direction, and return on the 28th for remounts, after a lot of night marching, early reveilles, etc.
January 29. - Move towards Jamestown.
February 1. - Camp at Stormberg, after passing through Jamestown.
February 3. - Awaiting orders to move, putting the time in playing cricket. Hear that two armoured trains have collided, and that the Boers had killed 17 men, and very seriously wounded the Stormberg Commandant.
February 4. - Leave 4 a.m. for Molteno, and leave Molteno, on the Syphergat line. Leave two troops with the convoy.
February 7. - Return to Molteno. Saw nothing of Boers, as they had doubled back and crossed the railway line. Saw a kaffir wearing nothing but a whitewashed skin. This, he informed us, was to keep the sun and cold off.
February 8. - Waiting to entrain for "Three Sisters" Siding.
February 11. - Leave for "Three Sisters" from Stormberg with horses, saddles, and convoy.
February 13. - Join Colonel Doran at "Three Sisters." Get a full outfit of everything.
February 14. - Krom River station passed, and camp.
February 17. - Left the Krom River camp for a drive in the western districts, and find it a very rough part. Two squadrons of the Coldstream Guards hoof-pad after us, and at midday halt. The ambulances are sent back for men that have dropped on the road.
February i8. - Had a skirmish with the Boers under Malan, Fouchee, and Wessels. Trooper Iles of Tasmania shoots a sub-commandant to Malan, ex-judge of the Free State (Hugo). We also shoot one or two others and wound some, including Malan, who is shot in the hand. Two Tasmanians are wounded, W. North is shot through the chest, and R. Stewart is shot in the leg. Some Yeomanry and Fifth Lancers are also, wounded.
February 20. - Send out scouts to locate Malan, who has crossed the line to the south of Victoria West.
February 21. - General Stephens engages enemy all day on our left flank. Moving towards Carnarvon, over the Karoo desert. Very short of rations, and a lot of our horses are dying of poison through eating a wild bulb that grows among the karoo.
February 24. - Camp at Carnarvon. The Tasmanians get in trouble for taking charge of a bar and breaking things up a great deal.
February 25. - Move out Victoria West way. A parade of Tasmanians, and a lecture over the Carnarvon affair by our Colonel.
February 27. - Within a mile of Victoria West. Rained hard until the morning of the 28th.
March i. - Marched to Richmond-road, on railway line.
March 2. - Pass through Deelfontein, and turn back after Conroyd's commando, who has been trying to cross the line. Got a list of the Federal Contingent's names.
March 3. - Move on to the railway, where our advance is fired on by men at blockhouses, and in about eight minutes two armoured trains come on the scene, but our helio just prevents them from shelling us.
March 5. - The Coldstream Guards leave us; we are sorry to lose them. We get some large boxes of cake sent from friends in Tasmania, which we should have got before Christmas.
March 7. - Camp at Richmond all day; then move off on a night march.
March 8. - Surprise Malan's commando, who has to get-away very quickly leaving their dinner for us, which was very acceptable.
March 10. - Have a skirmish with Malan's commando. We kill one man and wound five, including Sub-Commandant to Malan (Rudolph), who was successor to Hugo. Here we galloped the Boers about 10 miles, only once giving them a chance to take a position. We had 18 horses shot, and one man wounded, Corporal Johnston, who was shot through the top of the hat and down the jaw bone.
March 13. - Move into Murraysburg just as the Boers go out. The inhabitants tell us that the Dutch got a very rough chasing on the loth.
March 15. - Get into Richmond short of rations.
March i8. - Leave Richmond for Victoria West-road, but turn again Murraysburg direction.
March 21. - Send a patrol into Murraysburg, thinking to surprise a few Boers who patrol that place. Been having very wet weather.
March 22. - Move into Oudeberg supply camp, near Graaf Reinet. Still bad weather. Offer my services for an extra six months with a lot more Tasmanians.
March 25. - Move out on to the Kandiboo Mountains. Still wet weather.
March 27. - On the Aberdeen-road. We hear that our kits at Burghersdorp had been burned by an accidental fire.
March 29. - Nell Port -road. Locate the Boers, who very soon afterwards are missing. The big guns are used, but without effect. Lieutenant Brent, of the Tasmanians, and an intelligence, are taken prisoners by five Boers.
March 3o. - Arrive at "Three Sisters Siding." Get news of further contingents from Tasmania.
April 2. - Leave "Three Sisters," going Murraysburg direction. Just camp, when it starts to rain in torrents, and in 20 minutes our camp is boot-top deep in water; men and blankets saturated. We have to shift camp to higher ground.
April 3. - Locate Malan with 17 men. The gunners get a little more practice; also have a bit of rifle fire, following them up for three or four miles.
April 4-Camp near Murraysburg.
April 5- Move towards Biesje's Poort, and halt at farm called Skit Kraal.
April 8. - Left for Oudeberg, and halt at Mallay's. Tasmanians get into row for looting the town, which is not garrisoned, and a general Boer hospital.
April 9. - Do a very fast trek to Zuur Poort, through the Kandiboo Mountains.
April 10. - March into Oudeberg again. Wait here for men of our column who have gone away to hold small towns against the Dutch, who are reported to be in strong force. We put in our time until the 22nd rifle shooting. Outposts Geo. Blyth and Scott, of Tasmania, are wounded by a ricochet bullet at temporary butts. At this camp "A" Squadron refuse to take clothing on the grounds that if they could not get enough for all they would not have any. We had not enough within five -sixths.
April 22. - Leave for Murraysburg; column returned.
April 24. - Move out past Murraysburg to Aberdeen signal station.
April 27. - Move on to the Richmond-road.
April 29. - Near Victoria West. Locate the Boers. The intelligence have a black boy murdered by Malan's men.
May 1. - Camp at Skit Kraal and halt.
May 2. - I, with five other Tasmanians, go with two intelligence and two natives to a farm-Boxfontein - to surprise the occupants of the house.
We get Fouchee's brother, who was seriously wounded in the head.
May 3. - Mobilising orders, very acceptable. We give in all our horses to the rest of the column.
May 4. - Move into Victoria West station on the east. Off horses of the other regiments left on the veldt. We are much envied by the "Tommies." Colonel Doran gives us a speech, in which he says that he would like to see men like Tasmanians fighting an honourable foe instead of chasing bands of rebels about a very broken country.
May 5. - Getting plenty of beer, and making fair use of it.
May 9. - Left for Port Elizabeth in coal trucks, and not half enough room to lie down.
May 11. - Landed Port Elizabeth. Run on to the wharf in the train; off the train into a lighter; and then on to the S.S. " Devon." I lease in the "Devon" for the Coronation on 14th, at Algoa Bay.
I quote one or two entries from Trooper Thomas Jardine's notes.
There are some curious things in this diary, and I am sorry I cannot find space for more.
May 6. - Caught first louse on myself. Captured a suspected Boar (sic). After his papers were taken he was released.
May 8. - My birthday to-day. The funniest I have ever put in.
May 9. - We had to commandeer food this morning for rations. I was put on making scones. I mixed my dough in a blanket; it was a sight worth seeing! May ii. - Our division fired on the Imperial Yeomanry in mistake for Boars when out to-day. The Midland Mounted Rifles caught the Boars we were fighting yesterday [Seems to have been a successful boar hunt.] killing six of them and capturing 20 horses.
June 10. - Brought up before the Colonel for disobeying orders. Got several days' extra picquet. The trial a farce. [Hard luck, old man.] June 12. - A raid was made on a fowlhouse belonging to a Dutchman this evening. The camp is one mass of feathers! June 17. - Was sent out this morning to look after horses whilst grazing. Had a good look in my clothes for live stock. Had a good catch. Was in Court House hearing trial of rebels. Colonel Watchorn put J. S. in gaol for four days for not cleaning a sergeant's horse. It appears the Colonel is trying to make us all convicts.
June 23. - The Colonel is like an old woman. He is always saying, "Remember you are Tasmanians." [Our hero had a bad cold and a sore throat when he made this entry.] June 29. - Whilst waiting (for column) had a sing song at the farm.
I received a cup of coffee from the girl for singing a song.
November 19. - The burial service took place this afternoon over our dear departed friend and mate, Corporal J' Orr. Mr. Bisdee conducted the service, which was very touching.
December 27. - A fight took place between D. Iles, of Gormanston,, and G. Saunderson, of Queenstown, for £20 a side; fight to a finish; bare knuckles; but fight under Marquis of Queensberry's rules. The fight started at 4 p.m., and lasted till 6.30, 52 rounds being fought. It was the best fight that any of the crowd had ever seen. Both men received heavy punishment. The fight will be finished on our next out span. [There is no further reference to this prize fight. It must be remembered that this was Christmas week.] April 13. - Colonel Watchorn said he held an interview with Kritzinger, who said he shall never forget the way we drove him out of the colony. He also spoke very highly of the Australians. Received two barrels of ale as a present from Colonel Henniker.
April 21. - A very amusing incident occurred between a few of our boys and General French up at the Y.H. canteen. French came up to them and asked them where the drinking was. They gave him two pints of beer, which he drank. French offered them 2s to get some more, but they refused.
Hobart, Friday. - The Governor is advised by the General of Communications, Cape Colony, that the "Papanui" left, with six Tasmanian Bushmen, for Hobart, on May 18.
TASMANIANS IN ACTION.
A letter from Victoria West-road, dated April 1, gives details of an action in which the Tasmanian troops played a prominent part. On March 10 Colonel B. Doran's column, in pursuit of the Boers east of the line, between Nelspruit and Victoria-road, came up with a commando of about 150 at Taibosch Poort. The Boers, to delay the pursuit, opened fire on the advanced scouts, but the Tasmanians turned their right flank, and they retired, hurried by a few well-placed shells. The column promptly moved through the poort, and closed up on the heels of the retreating enemy, near Middlemount. Three kopjes commanded the road, and were held by the enemy, and the column had to check until the Tasmanians threatened the enemy's right. The guns had again got into play, when the main body cleared helter-skelter clean out of touch. But a party of about 30, moving to the right, were received by the "Tibs" (Tasmanians), who gave chase, and narrowly missed bagging the lot. A convenient kopje, however, interposed, and the enemy, in excellent position. held off the Tasmanians until the guns came up. A hot fire was turned on the kopje, and the route was resumed, but not before "toll" was taken. The Commandant and six other Boers were wounded, one dying during the retreat. The only casualty received by the British column was a Tasmanian slightly grazed on the face by a bullet.
STARTLING STORY OF METHUEN'S DEFEAT.
Lieutenant Jennings, of Grimsby, who was in Lord Methuen's disaster, writing to his father, says:-"The rearguard were overwhelmed by about 20 to one. About half the force was composed of colonials and half -castes, whilst it also included several Dutchmen. All these scoundrels," he writes, "cleared off, some of them without even firing a shot, and they never attempted to make a stand. They galloped off like sheep, although I understand Lord Methuen implored them to make a stand. Our units were overwhelmed in detail. The guns came into action within too short range. Major Paris, with some of the 5th Imperial Yeomanry, who got into a kraal and refused to surrender, were shelled and driven out, and although a few of them escaped, most of them had to surrender. I began to attend to the wounded, and was being marched off a prisoner when De la Rey came up, and I asked him to allow me to stay and do what I could for the wounded. He consented, and I saw our dear general lifted into a waggon and taken away. Poor fellow, his leg was shattered above the knee. He said afterwards: `Thank God it was not my column and they were not my men that ran away.' Boers say that he and French are the only two generals they fear and respect. The Yeomanry did well, but shot badly. Had the colonials only stood their ground half as well they would have saved the situation. The colonials and half-castes may do for scouting, but not for a desperate stand against superior numbers."
RETURNING SOLDIERS. ARRIVAL OF THE "MANILA" AT HOBART. AN ENTHUSIASTIC WELCOME.
Hobart, Sunday. - Hobart has been in a great state of excitement all day. According to arrangement a gun was fired when the troopship entered the river, which took place a little after 9 o'clock, and from that time the pier was filled with an excited crowd. Shortly after 10 o'clock the vessel berthed alongside the Alexandra Pier, when the returning troops were greeted with prolonged cheers and shouts of welcome. Relatives and prominent citizens had been granted special cards, which afforded them the privilege of going alongside, while outside the barrier an immense concourse of thousands of people thronged every point of vantage.
Happiness beamed on every face, with the exception of a few, whose joy was so great that tears took the place of mirth, and the impression was that no greater contrast could ever be experienced than that over witnessing the troops depart for the seat of war, and then to meet them returning home victorious, accompanied with the glad tidings of peace. Among those on the pier to welcome the troops were the Premier (Mr. N. E. Lewis) and Mrs. Lewis, the Treasurer (Mr. B. S. Bird) and the Misses Bird, Colonel Legge, Lieut. - Colonel Wallack, and other officers of the local defence force. The Headquarters and -City Bands were present, and sustained cheerfulness by playing selections of patriotic airs. The men on the whole appeared in excellent health and spirits, although some showed signs of the long campaign. After a short delay the men were allowed to go ashore until 10 o'clock in the evening.
At St. David's Cathedral a thanksgiving service was held at 3 o'clock, at which many of the troops were present, special seats being set apart for them in the nave. Suitable prayers, chants, and hymns were used, and Canon Shoobridge delivered a telling address of welcome to the men. The Cathedral was crowded to excess, many having to stand in the aisle, while hundreds were unable to gain admission.
Yesterday Trooper Inch (No. 691), of the New South Wales Bushmen, while suffering from insanity, the result of a sunstroke, eluded his warder while exercising on deck, and jumped overboard. Life buoys were thrown to him, which 4 refused to take advantage of. A boat with the second mate and a crew was lowered, but failed to pick up the unfortunate man, who was drowned.
On June 2 John M. Laing, one of Brabant's Horse, died from asthma.
The Tasmanians will disband tomorrow. The "Manila" leaves at daylight for New Zealand via Sydney.
LAUNCESTON MEN RETURNING.
Amongst Colonel Watchorn’s returning men are many who volunteered from Launceston, and their friends are, of course, overjoyed at the prospect of receiving the bronzed warriors home again. Evening parties and other family foregatherings are being arranged, and in some instances the reception is likely to take a semi-public form. In one case the gateway to a cottage near St. George's Square was yesterday adorned with an arch of evergreens, over which floated in all the glory of snow-white calico and red letters the simple but warm-hearted words, "Welcome to Dan." If the home-coming in the city is not on the same scale as the public welcome at Hobart, it will at least be as hearty and as acceptable in a homely way.
HOME FROM THE WAR.
Hobart, Monday. - The troopship " Manila," with the New South Wales and New Zealand troops aboard, took her departure for Sydney at ii o'clock this morning. It is understood that some of the former missed their passage, but no official report has been made upon the subject. The work of paying off the Tasmanian portion was commenced this morning, and will probably occupy some time, consequent upon a few of the men failing to put in an appearance, and it may be mentioned that the sum of £10,000 was deposited with the authorities to meet the claims of the men, some of whom will draw up to £100 each. It may also be stated that the "Manila," which brought them here, has been under charter to the Imperial Government for nearly two years, at an outlay of some £50,000 per year.
WELCOME SOCIAL AT HOBART.
Hobart, Monday. - A promenade concert took place in the skating rink at the Exhibition Building this evening to welcome Colonel Watchorn, commander of the Second Imperial Bushmen, and the officers and men under his command. According to arrangement, the returned troops, together with members of the local defence forces, fell in at the barracks at 7.30, and, headed by the Headquarters Band, under the command of the acting bandmaster, Sergeant Vincent, marched through some of the principal thoroughfares to the place of meeting. The streets along the line of march were thronged with sightseers, so much so that some difficulty was experienced by those holding the right of private entree to gain admission, despite the vigorous efforts of the police, under the command of Superintendent Pedder. The programme was a choice one, selections being well rendered, chiefly that of “Home, Sweet Home," by Mrs. Benson, which was encored, and responded to by the rendition of " Auld Lang Syne," the chorus of which was taken up by the audience with much enthusiasm. Messrs. N. E. Lewis (Premier), B. S. Bird (Treasurer), and E. Mulcahy (Minister of Lands), were present. An apology was read from his Excellency the Governor, who was absent owing to illness. The Mayor (Alderman Kerr) presided.
Mr. Lewis made a lengthy speech, in the course of which he congratulated Colonel Watchorn and the men under his command on the excellent work done by them in South Africa during their 16 months' absence. Of 25o he had taken away 167 had returned with him, 43 had been left behind on duty, others had been invalided, and six had left their bones on the veldt, never to return. From King Edward downwards the colonial troops had received the highest encomiums for their work. The Boers had proved worthy foes, and his wish with regard to the remaining Boers was that they would soon become participators in the blessings that the British had so long enjoyed. (Applause.) The Mayor also addressed the returned soldiers in a most sympathetic manner, expressing the hope that in days to come they would be able to tell their grandchildren of the deeds they had done. (Laughter.) Colonel Watchorn, who on rising was received with rounds of applause, on behalf of himself and the members of the contingent under his command, returned thanks ' for the cordial welcome accorded them. He detailed at some length the work accomplished by the contingent during their 16 months' absence, and was pleased to say that they had the pleasure of being attached to Colonel Gorringe's command, whose duty was to capture, if possible, judge Smuts, whose object was to descend upon Cape Elizabeth. This man and those under him they had chased over hilly country for Boo miles, and during this period the troops were called upon to endure much hardship, having at times to turn out at an early hour with horses covered in snow. He referred to the fact that Colonel Doran, one of the smartest Imperial Cavalry officers, had seen proper to report in the highest possible terms of the colonials-men who he admitted could shoot and ride straight. (Cheers.) The proceedings concluded with a smoke concert.
CHURCH GRAMMAR SCHOOL MEMORIAL.
A meeting of the past and present boys and friends will be held at the Church Grammar School this evening, at 8 o'clock, to decide upon a fitting tribute to the memory of those boys of the school who have fought for their country in South Africa.
WELCOME TO LILYDALE TROOPS.
On Wednesday evening, in spite of the wet and stormy weather, a large gathering of people was present at the station to greet the two returning troopers. Right in the middle of a furious downpour the two warriors alighted, and were immediately made the centre of an admiring crowd of friends, all anxious for the honour of the first hand-shake.
Trooper George Somerville, in spite of a long bout of the dreaded enteric in South Africa, looked hale and hearty, and had just time to respond shortly to the warm-hearted greetings of his many friends and relations, before taking train for his home at Wyena. Trooper W. C. Carlin looked in splendid condition, and was received like his comrade-in-arms, both being given quite an ovation.
2nd Tasmanian Imperial Bushmen, Tasmanians at Elands River, 5 August 1900 Topic: BW - Tas - 2TIB
2nd Tasmanian Imperial Bushmen
Tasmanians at Elands River
[From: John Bufton, Tasmanians in the Transvaal War, p. 150.]
Edward Thomas "Mickey" Phelan
[From: John Bufton, Tasmanians in the Transvaal War, p. 151.]
Both Goucher and his batman, "Mickey" Phelan were captured by the Boers at Elands River.
In 1904, John Bufton was commissioned to write the history of Tasmania's role in the Boer War. The finished work was called Tasmanians in the Transvaal War, and published at Hobart in 1905. Below is an account of the action at Elands River through the eyes of the Tasmanians.
John Bufton, Tasmanians in the Transvaal War, Hobart, 1905, pp. 172-3:
From Mafeking we trekked to Zeerust, a distance of forty miles. While here we saw General Carrington pass through with a small column to the relief of the gallant little band of bushmen and South Rhodesian Volunteers who were besieged at Elands River by De la Rey, with a large force of Boers and artillery. The garrison had only an old seven-pounder muzzle-loader and a Maxim for defence. Two Tasmanians were among the besieged-S.M. Goucher and Trooper Phelan.
The attempt to relieve them by General Carrington proved an utter failure, and some very hard things have been said about the half-hearted way in which the attempt was made. Then followed the retreat to Mafeking, which no Australian who took part in it will forget. The retreat was orderly enough, for there was plenty of time, as no signs of Boers were to be seen in pursuit. An immense pile of stores, estimated at £100,000 worth, was set fire to ; and then how the Boers must have laughed at the spectacle of nearly 2000 men, with about a dozen guns, running away from nothing for it is said that only 25 Boers entered the town after the British forces left it. Certain it is that De la Rey did not follow, and the Boer force under Commandant Lemmer was not more than Boo, and without artillery, which occupied the district when evacuated by the troops under Carrington. After a rest of three or four days we marched out again to Malmain, 22 miles, and found the village of Ottoshoop occupied by the Boers, who fled at our approach. Early next morning the advance guard came into action with the enemy, and by midday a general engagement was in progress , the Boers occupying a long ridge crossing the main road to Zeerust, and four miles from Malmain. By nightfall the enemy had been driven from every position and scattered . Our loss was light-about half a dozen casualties. After occupying the position for a couple of days, the troops retired into Ottoshoop. when General Carrington left us, earning an unenviable reputation among the men under his command.
The Australian Light Horse Studies Centre is a not for profit and non profit group whose sole aim is to write the early history of the Australian Light Horse from 1900
- 1920. It is privately funded and the information is provided by the individuals within the group and while permission for the use of the material has been given for this
site for these items by various donors, the residual and actual copyright for these items, should there be any, resides exclusively with the donors. The information on
this site is freely available for private research use only and if used as such, should be appropriately acknowledged. To assist in this process, each item has a citation
attached at the bottom for referencing purposes.
Please Note: No express or implied permission is given for commercial use of the information contained within this site.
A note to copyright holders
The Australian Light Horse Studies Centre has made every endeavour to contact copyright holders of material digitised for this blog and website and where
appropriate, permission is still being sought for these items. Where replies were not received, or where the copyright owner has not been able to be traced, or where
the permission is still being sought, the Australian Light Horse Studies Centre has decided, in good faith, to proceed with digitisation and publication. Australian Light
Horse Studies Centre would be happy to hear from copyright owners at any time to discuss usage of this item.
|
English
|
NL
|
c820fa301b2cd5a5a303127c1eff5c4d129770d6242f5cbfe8b4a44e2daa8348
|
Sookie furiously knocked on the back door of Fangtasia, refusing to enter with the rest of the throng by the front door. Ginger peered out curiously and immediately shut the door as soon as she recognised the blonde at the door. The downright rude door slam only added to Sookie’s ire making the pounce on the door more insistent as she screamed, “Eric Northman! You get that pale ass of yours out here right now!”
The few stray fangbangers in the deserted parking lot hardly took notice at the display. Any other night and it would be one of them by the door begging to be taken again. Much to their despise it seemed tonight, for once, Eric Northman had listened to the pleas thrown his way.
“Sookie?” he said in confusion to the angry woman that had blatantly ignored him and his attentions for four consecutive years under the guise she wanted nothing to do with vampires. To his chagrin she seemed to make an exemption for all those residing in Bon Temps and though he now owned several properties there in a desperate attempt to be invited to the elusive annual supernatural Thanksgiving feast he had yet to receive an invite to.
Eric hardly had a chance to take in the whirlwind that was Sookie Stackhouse as she shoved him aside and strode down the hallway towards his office as she angrily tossed over her shoulder, “What took you so long? Too busy fucking another gold digger in the basement?”
“I gave that shit up years ago,” Eric growled back as he stalked behind her. “If you must know I was on throne duty.”
“Well at least somewhere some things have stayed the same,” she sighed while plopping herself on the leather sofa. Her face turned to a grimace, “Although I hope you tossed out that old couch with the chains.” He gave a brief nod to her astonishment. “When did you turn into such a pussy Eric Northman?”
“I knew I used to like you,” Pam purred as her face rounded the corner of the doorway. “What happened to you? Did you find out you weren’t pregnant and instead discovered those steel sets of balls you used to sport?”
“Did you just give birth?” Eric asked in confusion only now taking in the flat of her stomach in as he was still trying to get over the fact that Sookie seemed to be suffering from a personality transplant, though still strangely reminiscent of the women who had piqued his interest for the first time in a millennium.
“No the other me is still pregnant,” she huffed in annoyance to which she received two raised eyebrows held steady in question. “That bitch Marnie separated us during the fight in the graveyard. I’ve been stuck there ever since, until tonight.”
“Fairy Sookie,” Eric finally uttered with extreme satisfaction as he took in the noticeable difference.
“Took you long enough to notice!”
“Well I noticed,” Pam returned dryly. “Hated you from the moment you turned my maker down, at least I understood what all the fuzz was about before.”
“Thank you!” Sookie cried out exasperated. “I fucking bonded to you Eric Northman and you just went ‘meh’ when I said I still loved Bill! What is wrong with you? Where the fuck was the thousand year old warrior Viking God I fell in love with? Maybe I should shack up with Pam, at least she noticed I wasn’t myself!”
“You’re more than welcome to Tinks,” Pam returned with a lascivious wink.
“Pamela,” Eric growled out causing the vampire in question to immediately retreat as she abided by her maker’s wordless command to leave them alone. He scrutinised Sookie as she demurely sat on the sofa wondering how he had missed the shift in her personality. “What happened?”
“I don’t know,” she confessed. “I got shot, Bill forced his blood down on me and I woke up in the cemetery. I thought I was a ghost until I saw stupid me flapping about having sex with any man on a headstone. I’m still trying to erase the memory of having to overhear veiny sex with Bill,” Sookie grimaced with a visible shudder. “Like I’d ever have sex with him again. Ugh.”
Eric couldn’t help but chuckle at her miserable memories which only seemed to anger her more. “You weren’t there! It was awful Eric I thought he was grunting like he was finally going to pass a bowel movement or something!” With that bit of commentary Eric fell apart with laughter as he remembered the eternal constipated set face of the Civil War vet.
“You know I always theorised he was turned mid-poop,” Eric managed to wheeze out between his hysterics. Thankfully Fairy Sookie was able to laugh along as she realised that she never would have to witness or overhear that again.
“What am I going to do Eric? Idiot Sookie has my house, my family and my friends. On top of that she rented out my vagina to any supernatural that winked at her.”
“You have me,” Eric said in comfort as he pulled her closer over the smooth leather. “She’s an idiot for not seeing the best thing that happened to her. Leaves you with the biggest prize.”
“Hmm. You make a lot of sense,” Sookie mused nuzzling into the comfort of his chest. “She doesn’t deserve you anyhow. But I still want my stuff and people back.”
“Pamela,” Eric called out knowing his progeny was listening in whether he tried to tell her to or not.
“Already on it!” she returned at a volume high enough for Sookie to overhear.
“Pam’s living on the wild side by dating a witch,” Eric answered her questioning look.
“I hate her already,” Sookie retorted with contempt of all things Wiccan that forced her to stand witness to her idiot half ineptly running her life all these years.
“She is extremely annoying,” he conceded, happy to share his prejudice of the magically inclined that ruined memories and many lives. “But useful.”
Amelia did prove useful, although Sookie had serious struggles trying to remain calm around the witch that she was sure possessed the loudest internal voice she had ever come across. She latched onto Eric for some internal peace that he was all too pleased to provide. Slowly as the night progressed her anger had waned and small touches became caresses. She moved from beside him to his lap as he whispered all sorts of flattery into her ears as he nibbled on her earlobes in between while the witch did her best to understand the spell that had separated Sookie into two, thoroughly probing Sookie for any relevant information.
“I think I figured it out,” Amelia finally concluded after conferring with her mentor in New Orleans. “Marnie didn’t do a separation spell as we initially thought but Bill must have made a deal with her to do a binding love spell through his blood.”
“It didn’t work properly because the fae part wouldn’t submit on account of the commitment she made to Eric by blood and light, therefore that part split off.”
“What changed now?” Eric questioned as Sookie was clearly corporal unlike before.
“Bill died but his blood inside you didn’t, well the other you,” the witch explained. “On top of that all the matter of his blood had to fully disintegrate and according to Pam’s calculations in a vampire his age that would be about now.”
“Fucker couldn’t just walk into the sun like everyone else with a death wish?” Eric grumbled annoyed that Sookie could have returned to him years ago.
“Hush,” Sookie admonished kissing him softly on the lips for the first time that night if only to shut him up. Then he knew exactly who he was dealing with, this was the woman he had fallen in love with. The one who comforted him when his maker said goodbye and stood in his place. The one who had taken him in without a memory to his name, cared for him, fought for him and loved him equally in return. No wonder he had let the idiot version of her go. “Love you too,” she whispered feeling exactly what he felt through the bond that had slowly crept back to prominence throughout the night.
“So can I kill the other Sookie,” Pam asked with far too much malicious glee to be considered comfortable to anyone else in the room.
“No,” Amelia replied fiercely. “The two are connected, if one dies so does the other.”
“Well it’s a fucking miracle you’re still walking then,” Pam returned with a roll of her eyes before she settled in to pout about her missed opportunity kill that she had been meticulously planning in her head for years.
“So what do we do then?” Sookie asked.
“As far as Octavia can tell any spell with the Fae requires the sharing of light. Beyond that we don’t know much. Perhaps your great grandfather can help figure this out.”
“That free loading spaghetti thief?” the feisty fairy retorted with an impressive roll of her eyes. “He doesn’t seem very helpful in the least.”
“He’s the best shot you got,” Amelia returned as she gathered her magical items and tomes. “The spell is undone but you two are still apart.”
Sookie thanked the witch politely as she agreed with Eric that she had indeed been beneficial though she would make sure to stay well away from her and warn Pam that Amelia’s last relationship ended with her other half as a cat.
“Are you sure about this?” Eric asked concern coursing through his system and into hers.
She kissed him softly before answering, “You’re not?”
“What if…” The mere thought of having her and losing her again as she merged with her other half was too difficult for him to even admit out loud. She understood completely what words couldn’t express for him and through the bond she allowed him to feel what she felt for him, how whole she felt with him despite her missing half.
“We’re one Eric,” she whispered against his lips. “Nothing will steal that from us again.”
“I can’t lose you again Sookie,” he returned with pain in his eyes to which she softly kissed the lids. “The other Sookie moved on with some were who impregnated her.”
“Seriously Eric?” Sookie consoled as she wrapped her arms around him. “If you haven’t noticed yet I’m obviously the brains of the operations. Idiot Sookie won’t know what hit her. Besides she married that guy because she couldn’t afford a new tin roof which she would have if she ever made it to one of her damn shifts. She doesn’t love him, she has no idea how to. How else would she let you go?”
“Definite,” she voiced confidently as she tapped a spot on her forehead which he then lovingly kissed. “Read her mind and everything. She’s pretty much a Renfield. But I’d like to hold off a bit, she’s the one that got us into that pregnancy so she can damn well suffer through the pain of childbirth.”
A/N : I expect this fixin’ will have a follow up fixin’ sometime soon as I’m just itching to write Fairy Sookie slapping some sense into Idiot Sookie.
The horror of veiny sex was inspired by my conversation with Sakshi Chopra so thanks for that!
I am still entertaining requests/prompts for these fixin’s. If they spark my imagination I’ll write it and credit you. So if you have something in mind or simply have an idea for the identity of the mystery man at the head of the table or something else leave it behind in the comment section below. Or simply rant about the final season… my associative brain picks up plenty of ideas from that alone 😀
|
English
|
NL
|
9ea1bbed75b8046ba870f80f4adcc7773e0cc9405b3fd772560f04af57a02d12
|
Results of a new Women's Health Initiative ( WHI ) report has shown that hormone therapy is associated with an increased risk of death from breast cancer, as well as an increased risk of developing invasive breast cancer in postmenopausal women.
The study, published in JAMA ( Journal of American Medical Association ), has found the breast cancers also tended to have more lymph node involvement, indicating a poorer prognosis.
This report, which expands on earlier results of the WHI study, followed these women for an average of 11 years. The data has shown that, with further follow-up, there remains an increased incidence of breast cancer in women taking Estrogen plus Progestin.
In fact, women taking Estrogen plus Progestin are more likely to die from breast cancer and from other causes than women who did not take these hormones.
The study, which began in 1993, included 40 clinical centers across the U.S. Initially planned to continue until 2005, the hormone trial was halted in 2002 because preliminary analysis of the data showed Estrogen plus Progestin increased the risk of heart disease, stroke and invasive breast cancer.
Prior to WHI, researchers speculated that hormone therapy reduced heart disease risk.
The WHI continued to follow these women after the main trial ended. The JAMA paper has reported the results of research conducted during this WHI extension phase. Most of the earlier observational studies, which follow participants over time and collect health information at specific intervals, had suggested that breast cancers that develop in women taking hormone therapy were less advanced and had a lower risk of death.
However, the WHI researchers have noted in the JAMA paper that the influence of estrogen plus progestin on breast cancer mortality had not been addressed in the context of a randomized clinical trial, prior to WHI.
Their current study to answer that question was based on 12,788 surviving postmenopausal women who took part in the initial trial.
The results showed that combined hormone therapy increases the incidence of invasive breast cancer and that, more commonly, the cancers had spread to the lymph nodes. There also were more deaths attributed to breast cancer in those taking hormone therapy ( 2.6 versus 1.3 per 10,000 women ). There also were more deaths from all causes in the women who had been diagnosed with breast cancer who were on hormone therapy ( 5.3 versus 3.4 per 10,000 ).
The trial also found that hormone therapy interfered with detection of breast cancer, leading to cancers being diagnosed at a more advanced stage.
These findings related to increased mortality in Estrogen plus Progestin users were surprising. Prior studies had suggested that, although these women were diagnosed with breast cancer, their prognosis was more positive than those who were not on hormone therapy when diagnosed. This study has emphasized the importance of clinical trial data to understand the risks and benefits of taking hormone therapy. ( Xagena )
Source: University at Buffalo, 2010
|
English
|
NL
|
ff98e14672ce1ed8a2b5e20dab1102cad986b4e77df21cb16280bc6ed330345b
|
When a gamer wolf searches for love, only an odd mate will do.Charly spends his days working in a used video game shop and most of his nights as the second to one of the rarest of their kind--a female Alpha. Most of the pack figured he and Dara had a thing, but her recent mating wakens a wave of unwelcome pity. He can't exactly admit the one wolf he ever loved left him years ago. At least, he can't until she reappears close enough for him to try again.Gretchen fell in love with a sweet, nerdy bear of a man, but ran fast and hard from his side when she realized he'd hate her for a genetic twist of fate she couldn't change. Now she's back in town and drawn to his side. A twist of fate leaves her with no choice--she can be near the man she's always loved again, but at what cost? She must betray him and everything he holds dear.Can a wolf sworn to destroy all coyotes claim a coywolf mate or will he be forced to obliterate the only girl he ever loved?
|
English
|
NL
|
c6e8b30df56a7bf751cf3c0c35acfed98fb7e1549b626a6e55a00e34b87eb614
|
Kenny joined IAA in August 2015 as the Advisor Onboarding and Compensation Manager. After years of assisting financial advisors through their transition to IAA, he was promoted to Director of Support Services in January 2019. In his new role, Kenny’s primary responsibilities are to manage the day-to-day service experience of partner firms, process advisor compensation, and oversee the advisor service team. He will proactively communicate with partner firms to ensure satisfaction and assist with complex issue resolution.
Kenny brought decades of industry experience with him to IAA. His career began in 1985 as a Margin Associate with Merrill Lynch and over the years he advanced to VP of Operations with Pershing LLC. Kenny also spent 4 years as an AVP with UVEST/LPL and was a Financial Advisor with UBS Financial and Wells Fargo Advisors for 5 years prior to joining IAA. With a passion and talent for relationship management and operations, he left sales to do what he enjoys most.
Originally from New York City, Kenny resides in Waxhaw, North Carolina, with his wife and teen-aged, twin sons. Outside of work, he enjoys fishing, golfing and spending time with his family.
|
English
|
NL
|
0005db13882e7ab8eaa99b504cb6226d6dd3a4e7ee96c65f003cd4849036ebc3
|
Nahum 1:2 A jealous and avenging God is the LORD, the LORD is avenging and wrathful; the LORD takes vengeance on his adversaries and rages against his enemies. 3 The LORD is slow to anger but great in power, and the LORD will by no means clear the guilty.
Here the prophet Nahum describes God in stark, scary terms. God is “avenging and wrathful” who “will by no means clear the guilty”. In other words, while God may be merciful, God is also just. That means sin must be punished. Since we are all sinners, this is bad news.
Then in Revelation we get a different picture:
Revelation 14:12 Here is a call for the endurance of the saints, those who keep the commandments of God and hold fast to the faith of Jesus. 13 And I heard a voice from heaven saying, “Write this: Blessed are the dead who from now on die in the Lord.” “Yes,” says the Spirit, “they will rest from their labors, for their deeds follow them.”
In the time Revelation was written there was much persecution happening toward Christians. People were imprisoned and even put to death for their faith. Here the writer offers a word of encouragement to those suffering for the name of Jesus. The “saints” (v.12) are not simply forgotten, and their sacrifices with them. Their “deeds follow them”. They, and their good deeds, are remembered in the life to come. How different than the Nahum passage, right?
The wonderful thing to consider is that these saints mentioned in Revelation were as we are – flawed, broken, sinful. They weren’t saints because of their perfection in the Lord, but because they had been redeemed and claimed as children of God through Christ Jesus. It is by grace that they have been saved, as is true of you and me.
Their sins and mistakes were forgiven and forgotten – while their acts of sacrifice for the gospel “follow them” into eternal life. As I think about my life I remember so many mistakes and struggles and acts against the will of God. They are too many to possibly number. If all these were counted against me I would be utterly without hope. I expect the same is true of you.
And yet by the grace of God in Christ Jesus we have hope. Our sin, confessed and laid bare before the Lord, is forgiven and remembered no more. We are made clean in the blood of Jesus. Thanks be to God! Amen.
|
English
|
NL
|
4096a74b0f5aae7d4770685cb3af398ac918f731ae57425bb96a4086c480cc8b
|
LUKE 23:13-25.DECEMBER 2.
Golden Text:"Then said Pilate, I find
no fault in this man."Luke 23:14 .
OUR Lord's words, "The darkness hateth the light," were verified not only in his own case but also amongst those who have been his footstep followers throughout this Gospel age. In the lesson before us we see an illustration of this in the incidents connected with our Lord's examination before Pilate and Herod, in his being "set at naught" and variously maltreated, and we can apply the same general principles to his true followers. Another of our Lord's sayings was illustrated in his experiences at this time, namely, "If the light that is in thee become darkness, how great is that darkness." The Jewish people had a certain amount of light, as the Apostle declares, "Much advantage everyway." (Rom. 3:2.) Yet the most rabid of our Lord's foes were the chief priests and rulers, and the Jewish mob whom they incited and authorized, and in a sense legalized by their learning, pretended piety and official position as those who "sat in Moses' seat." How great was their darkness, how perverted their sense of justice, how absent all sense of love!how fully they demonstrated the wisdom of the divine decision that they were not fit to represent God and his Kingdom amongst men, and should, therefore, be cast off, that a spiritual Israel might be selected as Messiah's associates, his Bride. And is it not the same to-day? Has it not been a similar class all the way down through the age and now that is found opposing God and his Anointed, represented in his members in the flesh? It is even so: while the whole world under the blinding influence of the Adversary is opposed to the light, to the Truth, to the children of the light and to the promulgation of the Truth, nevertheless it is nominal Christendom and her Doctors of Divinity whose opposition is chiefly aroused, whose tongues are the loudest in crying, "Crucify! crucify!" against all the true members of the body of Christ, those who walk in his footsteps. We are glad of the Apostle Peter's assurance, as respects all such, that in general they have not had a sufficiency of light to make their course of conduct a guilty one to the last degree. The apostles said of the traducers of Jesus, his real crucifiers, "I wot that in ignorance ye did it, as did also your rulers." (Acts 3:17.) We may be sure that much of the opposition to the body of Christ all down through the age the Lord will be able to similarly pass by as done in blindness, in ignorance. We must be in the condition of heart to love our enemies, to do good to those who despitefully use us, and to pray for such; and we have [R3895 : page 364] good hope that when the blessed Kingdom of the Lord shall be established, and clear knowledge of the Lord fill the whole earth, many of these now blinded and bitter enemies will have the eyes of their understanding opened and be amongst those who will bow the knee and with the tongue confess to the glory of God.
Our Lord was brought before Pilate early in the morning of the day of his crucifixion, about eight o'clock. The Jewish Sanhedrin had met still earlier, and had approved of the findings of the High Priest in the examination during the night watchesthat Jesus was guilty of blasphemy, of treason against God and his country. This was held to be proven by his admission before the High Priest that he was the Son of God, the Messiah. They were ashamed of him, and desired no such King, no such Savior, no such Messiah. They went to Pilate's judgment hall early, before the news of our Lord's arrest would reach the people of the city in general, and thus too great a commotion be made and perhaps some of his friends be aroused to his defense.
It required but a few moments for Pilate to make an examination of the prisoner at the bar. The charge against our Lord before Pilate was a totally different one from that on which he had been condemned by the Jewish Sanhedrin. It was of three counts: (1) Sedition, raising a tumult, stirring up the people to a rebellion; (2) that he taught the people that they should not give tribute to Caesar; (3) that he himself claimed to be the king who should receive the tributes. The charges were so evidently untrue that Pilate speedily discerned the animus of the Jewish rulers who formulated them. He saw that it was the religious power of the rulers that was in danger, and not the civil power of the Roman government. The multitude standing outside the gates shouted the accusations riotously, incited so to do by their religious teachers. Jesus made no reply, so that even Pilate marveled at his quietness, self-possession, non-resistance and lack of vindictiveness and refusal to defend himself, even though he was manifestly a person quite able to plead his own cause. Pilate even asked him if he were not aware of the fact that he had power either to set him at liberty or to inflict the punishment desired by the people. Our Lord's answer was serene, that Pilate could have no power at all except as it was permitted him by the heavenly Father. Ah, this was the secret of our Lord's composure! He had given his life, his all; he had surrendered to the Father his every interest; he had confidence in the Father's love and wisdom, and was willing, therefore, to drink of the cup which the Father had poured, rejoicing to do the will of him that sent him and to finish that work. So with the Lord's followers throughout this agein proportion as they, like him, have been enabled to realize the fulness of their consecration and at heart have been filled with his spirit and loving submission to the Father's willin that same proportion they have been able to be calm under most severe and trying ordeals, so that the world even has marveled at their composure and self-control, the peace of God passing all understanding ruling in their hearts.
Concluding his brief interview with Jesus, Pilate approached the wide-open doorway of his court-room, outside which the people were crowding, and publicly and openly declared, "I find no fault in this man." The rulers, disappointed, fearing that by some mischance they would after all lose their prey, were angry, and aroused the populace to expressions of dissatisfaction with the verdict. Pilate, however, had given the sentence and was not disposed to change ityet he hesitated about setting Jesus at liberty in the face of such an angry demonstration on the part of the general public as well as of the influential rulers. Incidentally hearing something said about Galilee, he inquired if Jesus were a Galilean, and this being confirmed he said, "Since he is a Galilean I will send him to Herod, who at present is in the city." Then our Lord, publicly accompanied by a squad of Roman soldiers, was sent to Herod, who had a curiosity to see him; he had heard many things about him, and he had wondered whether or not he might be John the Baptist, whom he had beheaded, raised from the dead. But when Herod began to question Jesus he answered him never a word. There is a time to speak and a time to hold silence, and our Lord was the master of the situation. Undoubtedly his silence was more forceful than anything he could have said. Herod was evidently provoked by this silence, but dare not belittle himself by showing this. He therefore contented himself by allowing some of his men of war to array Jesus in a gorgeous robe, and to do him mock reverence. He regarded Jesus as a pretender, and no doubt thought it a stroke of wit to parody his claims of royalty. His verdict was, Not guiltyinnocent. As Pilate had turned the prisoner over to Herod, declaring that he himself found no cause of death in him, Herod returned the compliment by remitting the prisoner again to Pilate. When, therefore, Pilate found the matter again in his hands he called together the chief priests and the rulers of the people, as stated in the opening verse of our lesson, and said, "Ye have brought this man unto me as one that perverteth the people: And behold I have examined him before you and have found no fault in this man as touching those things whereof ye accuse him. No, nor Herod, for I sent you to him; and lo, nothing worthy of death is found in him. I will therefore chastise him and release him."
Many are disposed to censure Pilate's severity: they call him a wicked man, unwilling to stand by his own convictions, and suggest that even the proposition to chastise Jesus was a manifestation of this weaknessthat if there was no fault in Jesus, justice would not only have forbidden his execution but would also have forbidden his scourging with whips.
We believe that an injustice is done the man. He was a heathen, had no faith in the Jewish expectancy of a Messiah, [R3895 : page 365] no respect for the Jews themselves, but thought of them as a rebellious people whom he was placed there to keep in orderin subjection to the Roman empire. His training in life had been to consider that there might be many gods invisible, but that Caesar, the Roman Emperor, was the tangible representative of the gods, whose honor, authority and respect should be maintained at any hazard. He knew that he was placed as the representative of Rome at Jerusalem not to do justice but to keep ordernot to favor and forward the divine plans, but to represent and maintain the authority of the Roman empire. What mattered it to Rome if a thousand innocent victims suffered every year so long as Roman prestige was maintained and Roman tribute was collected? If injustice amongst the Jews had been likely to stir them up to disloyalty to Rome, then the injustice would have been righted, so that the authority of Rome might remain upon a good basis; but if both the rulers and the people united against anybody or anything, and made it a test of [R3896 : page 365] their loyalty to Rome, the Emperor and senate would surely expect that Pilate, as their representative, would favor the voice of the people and maintain order and quiet. Apparently therefore it was either a respect which Pilate felt for our Lord's personality or the influence of his wife's dream of the preceding night that led him to strive with the Jewish rulers for the release of Jesus. Many another man in his position would have used the opportunity to curry favor with those under his control, and would have executed Jesus simply to please themjust as we see that Herod did on another occasion, respecting which we read, "And he killed James, the brother of John, with a sword. And because he saw that it pleased the Jews, he proceeded further to take Peter also."Acts 12:2,3.
The scourging incident should be viewed from this standpoint: Pilate wished to placate the mob spirit which he perceived at his court gate: if Jesus were scourged, and thus demeaned, the people would probably be better satisfied and more likely to let the incident drop than if the Lord were turned free without chastisement. We esteem then that it was with a good motive rather than a bad one that Pilate condemned Jesus to be lashed on the back.
At this season of the year it was the custom for the Roman Governor to release a prisoner as an act of magnanimity and an adjunct to the general joy of the occasion. Pilate reminded them of this, and suggested that after scourging Jesus he would be the prisoner whom he would release, but the multitude cried out against this with united voice, "Away with this man, and release unto us Barabbas." We cannot doubt that the priests and rulers had more or less to do with thisthat they were still inciting the people against Jesus. And when we think of the Jews we are appalled at the condition of heart which it reveals. Barabbas was a seditionist in fact and had been imprisoned for murderand this was the choice of the people as against Jesus! Truly they showed the murderous condition of their hearts: although outwardly a moral people, respecting the Law, inwardly they were filled with the spirit of the Adversarythey hated the Light and the great Light-Bearer. Similarly, all down through the age, those who have been chosen to officewhile they have not always been seditionists and murderershave rarely, if ever, been saints. And so today, although nearly nineteen centuries have passed, and the most civilized parts of the world are called Christendom, we may be sure that if our Lord were to offer himself as King to these he would be rejected, and, if not a murderer elected instead, the choice would certainly fall upon one who had considerable of the murderous spiritthe spirit of the world, the spirit of the Adversary, which frequently manifests itself, as the Apostle declares, in malice, hatred, envy, strifeworks of the flesh and of the devil. The disciple is not above his Lord; but in proportion as he has a heart-likeness to his Lord, in that same proportion he will be tolerably sure not to be pushed into any place of very great honor and dignity in the present time. We by no means inveigh against those who occupy official and honorable positions. We believe that good, noble characters have filled such positions by popular choice, popular vote, but we consider such occurrences so rare as to prove the rule to the contrary. Let it be remembered, however, that we make a wide distinction between a good citizen, a good ruler, a noble man and a saint, a follower in the footsteps of Jesus. Let us determine that by the grace of God our stand will be with the Master; let us expect that it will be unpopular, cost us shame and contempt and disadvantage, and that this will be our share in his crossand let us remember that only those who bear the cross will wear the crown.
"Once to every man and nation comes the moment to decide,
In the strife of truth with falsehood, for the good or evil side;
Some great cause, God's new Messiah offering each the bloom or blight,
Parts the goats upon the left hand, and the sheep upon the right;
And the choice goes by forever 'twixt that darkness and that light."
Edersheim remarks that it was "While the people were deciding to choose Barabbas instead of Jesus, and Pilate was sitting on his judgment seat, a messenger came to him from his wife, warning him not to yield and deliver up Jesus to be crucified, for she had suffered many things in a dream because of him. We can understand it all, if, on the previous evening, after the Roman guard had been granted, Pilate had spoken of it to his wife. Tradition has given her the name Procula. What if Procula had not only been a proselyte, like the wife of a previous Roman governor (Saturninus), but had known about Jesus and spoken of him to Pilate on that evening? This would best explain his reluctance to condemn Jesus, as well as her dream of him."
Pilate a second time essayed to influence the people, but again they began shouting, "Crucify him, Crucify him," and the third time he appealed to them saying, "Why, what evil hath he done? I have found no cause of death in him. I will therefore chastise him and let him go," but [R3896 : page 366] the mob was "instant with loud voices requiring that he might be crucified, and the voices of them and the chief priests prevailed."
Stalker comments upon this incident: "This scene has often been alleged as the self-condemnation of democracy. Vox populi, vox Dei, its flatterers have saidbut look yonder! When the multitude has to choose between Jesus and Barabbas, it chooses Barabbas! If this be so, the scene is equally decisive against aristocracy. Did the priests, scribes, and nobles behave better than the mob? It was by their advice that the mob chose."
Elsewhere their arguments are set forth: they clearly intimated to Pilate that the incident would be reported at Rome, and would have a peculiar light that would reflect against his vigilance as the representative of Roman authoritythat a pretender to the dominion of Israel had appeared, and that they themselves, loyal to Rome, had arrested him and brought him to the Governor, who was so slack of his duty that instead of crucifying him he had set him free. Poor Pilate was in a very hard place for one of his character, position and education. He gave way finally under pressure, whereas many a man in his place would not have thought of resisting the popular will in such a matter. He finally gave sentence that the will of the people should be done. And is not this as high a level as is ever attained by earthly law and justice? What human law can stand against the will of the people? Is it not the same with us today? The people make the laws and the people execute them, and Pilate merely hearkened to the voice of Jesus' own countrymen. Here, too, the Scriptures lay the blame, saying, "He came unto his own, and his own received him not." Here the Apostle also lays the blame, not upon Pilate, but upon the Jews and their rulers.
As an indication of his dissent, and as clearing himself in the sight of all from the responsibility, Pilate called for water to be brought, and in the sight of the multitude poured it over his hands. Thus washing his hands he said, both in symbol and in words, "I am innocent of the blood of this righteous man, see ye to it." (Deut. 21:6-9.) How blinded were the Jews that they could not even appreciate justice to the same extent as this heathen ruler, who had nothing at stake personally nor religiouslywhose every interest might be said to have been better served by a concurrence in the popular vote. This hardness of heart is represented by the willingness with which the priests and rulers and multitude accepted the responsibility, saying, "His blood be upon us and upon our children." The full responsibility of what followed was left with the Jews.
Carrying out the thought that the responsibility lay with the Jews, God through the Prophet had already declared that the time would come when the poor blinded eyes would be opened and the Jews would look upon him whom they had pierced and mourn for him. (Zech. 12:10.) Thank God that such a time is coming, and that the Lord promises that he will pour upon them the spirit of prayer and supplication, and will take away their sin. As a people they have had severe experiences for now many centuries, and all who have the Spirit of Christ rejoice to know of their coming reprieve; and not only so, but to know, further, that the blessing which will thus begin with the "Jew first" shall extend through him under the divine guidance of spiritual Israel in glory, the Christ, to the blessing of all the families of the earth during Christ's Millennial reign.
These words of the Apostle merely confirm the thought emphasized by the Master himself, that all true followers of Jesus will have more or less of his experiences. He was the true onethe Truth, as well as the Way and the Lifeand yet he was crucified as a deceiver, he was misunderstood by the sin-blinded world, yea, by the most enlightened people of that time. The disciple is not to expect to be above his Lord, but rather to expect to glory in the privilege of being his companion. Let us learn, therefore, to rejoice even in [R3897 : page 366] the midst of misrepresentation, falsification, buffetings, scourgings, legal and illegal, farcicallet us count it all joy to be permitted thus to have companionship with our beloved Savior; let us learn the lesson of patient endurance in well doing, that in due time, not having fainted, we may reap the glorious reward of joint-heirship with him in his Kingdom.
|
English
|
NL
|
3c3e0639c881152d16f083913149ee55e66085dceafaa71fac116afb2bfcdc34
|
This article about Linus is a stub. You can help Mythology Wiki by expanding it.
Linus was the son of Apollo and Calliope. He was a skilled musician and inventor of melody and rhythm. He taught his brother (or half-brother) Orpheus, as well as Heracles. He was killed with his own lyre after he reprimanded Heracles for making errors.
|
English
|
NL
|
6235c617ca4b48ce1b2540d60d0626ae73ac0cf884936efe9a30d2e77354dcba
|
The death has occurred at Potters Bar, Hertfordshire of Andrew Slidders Todd, one of the many World War II servicemen who contributed to the anthologies published by the Salamander Oasis Trust.
Born in Dundee and educated at the Morgan Academy there, Andrew Todd was called-up for army service in 1939, and trained as a private soldier with The Black Watch in Perth.
Sent for officer-training he was commissioned in the Seaforth Highlanders and joined this regiment's regular 2nd Battalion in 1940. He served with the 2nd Seaforths in the famous 51st Highland Division from Alamein to the crossing of the Rhine and Victory in Europe.
Major Andrew Todd, as he eventually became, was first Signals Officer, then Adjutant, and finally a Company Commander. He fought in almost every battle from that first victory at El Alamein, across the Western Desert to Tunisia. He then served in Sicily and Italy, before his battalion returned to Britain to train for D-Day and Normandy. Andrew Todd was twice wounded and twice Mentioned in Despatches.
After demobilisation in 1946, he joined the British Broadcasting Corporation as a sub-editor in the overseas newsroom, before moving to BBC Television News, where he eventually became its Editor. In nearly 30 years with the BBC, he rose to be the Deputy Director of News and Current Affairs, and spent his final year as Controller of the BBC in Scotland.
Andrew Todd wrote the wartime history of his Seaforth battalion - The Elephant at War (1939-1945). Journalist, writer, scratch golf player - and poet - he died aged 85. His wife Marjory pre-deceased him, but he is survived by his sons Bruce and Iain, and two grand-daughters. His was a long life, well and fully lived.
Two poems by Andrew Todd are reproduced here.
|
English
|
NL
|
a11da0a95e7ff575b7d92153417f96a21807797d46d426bd5ef1af9880d11304
|
A History of The Episcopal Church of the Holy Innocents 1882 - 2018
410 South Atlantic Avenue
Beach Haven, New Jersey 08008
The Episcopal Diocese of New Jersey
Complied by the Rev. Daniel W. Hinkle, Interim Rector August 2018
The Episcopal Church of the Holy Innocents was the first Christian Church on Long Beach Island. It began as a summer mission at a time when there were no inhabitants on the island during the winter months save the coast guard and a few members of their families. Before they had a church building, Episcopalians met together for worship in the parlors of the Parry House and Engleside Hotel, two of the earliest grand, seashore hotels on the island during the Victorian Period.
Beach Haven was founded in 1874 as a seashore resort for the wealthy of Philadelphia during a time in our country’s history the famous American author Mark Twain called the Gilded Age. The Parry House hotel opened that year and could accommodate 200 guests. It was located at the north east corner of Centre Street and Beach Avenue. Unfortunately, the hotel would burn down just seven years later in 1881. The Methodist Church is now located where the Parry House once stood. The Engleside Hotel opened in 1876 and could accommodate 400 guests. It survived until the early 1940s and was originally located where Veteran’s Park is today.
In a pamphlet history of the early development of the Episcopal Mission written by the Rev. Dr. James Hart Lamb (see sources listed below), the first minister-in-charge of the summer mission, Dr. Lamb recalls being asked to read services and preach in one of the hotels on Sunday, August 14, 1881. (“Reading services” probably referred to leading Morning Prayer and preaching.) Accordingly, he booked a room in the Parry House for Thursday evening, August 11th.
That night the Parry House hotel caught fire. By the next morning, Friday, August 12th, it had burned to the ground. This happened just seven years after the hotel had opened in 1874. Fire was a real hazard to those grand, Victorian, wooden hotels. Fortunately, no one was hurt, thanks in large part to the efforts of Dr. Lamb who heard a faint cry of fire and noticed smoke coming from the kitchen. He woke everyone and urged them to leave the burning hotel immediately.
A service of Thanksgiving for the lives saved was held that Friday evening in the parlor of the Engleside Hotel. At Sunday morning worship in the same parlor two days later on August 14th, Dr. Lamb made an appeal to build a church on the island. The balance of the debt on a lot previously purchased for the church was paid off from the offering taken at this service.
The next day Mrs. Martha A. Parry offered to build a church on the lot purchased. This generous benefactress was the second wife of Mr. Charles T. Parry, the principal investor in the Parry House hotel and President of the famous Baldwin Locomotive Manufacturing company in Philadelphia. “This Church was to be given as a Thank Offering for the escape from death of the many who were in the Parry House at the time of the fire, and also given in memory of her daughter, Mrs. Clara Parry Hilger who departed this life at the young age of 19 on February 14, 1881, and of other children in Paradise.” (Quoted from Dr. Lamb’s “Short History…,” ) Clara had probably died in childbirth and her child lost as well. This was common in the days before modern medicine. “the other children in Paradise” refers to “all little ones called as children to God’s presence in Paradise.” The name of Holy Innocents’ Episcopal Church is also a reference to the murder of the innocent children by King Herod found chapter two of the Gospel according to St. Matthew.
The first church building was located on the north east corner of Beach Street and what is now called Engleside Avenue but originally had been called South Street. The church was built during the winter and spring of 1881 and 1882 on two fifty-foot lots. The building was not heated. The first lot was purchased for $250, the price of the second was increased to $350 before it was purchased. Oh, for the good ol’ days!
The first worship service in this new church building was held on Sunday, July 9, 1882 at which time the building was consecrated by the Right Reverend John Scarborough, D.D. He served as the fourth Bishop of the Episcopal Diocese of New Jersey from 1875 - 1914. The original church building now houses the Long Beach Island Historical Museum.
The Prayer Book used for the first worship services held in the parlors of the Parry House and Engleside Hotels and the first church would have been the first Book of Common Prayer of the Episcopal Church USA, which was published in 1789. A new Episcopal Hymnal was published in 1871. The scriptures would have been read from the 1611 Kings James Version of the Bible. In 1892 the Episcopal Church published a revision of the Book of Common Prayer and that was used until the 1928 BCP was published. The Hymnal was revised again in 1892, 1916 and 1940. Morning Prayer with sermon would probably have been the worship liturgy on most Sundays and Holy Eucharist celebrated perhaps as often as once a month. It was often the case in many Episcopal Churches of the time that an early Sunday service was said Holy Communion and attended by the domestic help. Morning Prayer was then held at the main service while the help prepared Sunday dinner at home.
For the first fifty years of its existence, Holy Innocents’ Episcopal Church functioned as a summer season mission chapel. In the beginning, the mission was only open for worship from Independence Day through Labor Day weekend. It would eventually be open from Memorial Day in May through the end of September.
Unfortunately, there are few records of the many clergy who preached and celebrated communion during this early period from 1882 – 1936, although Dr. Lamb frequently acted as their host. In 1917 he sold his summer home at 110 Amber Street in Beach Haven to the Diocese of New Jersey. It was then used as the first vicarage of Holy Innocents’ Church until it was sold in 1941. The Rev. Canon Robert G. Williams was one of the summer clergymen during the early mission period. He wrote that “The compensation we received for our services was the use of the house, and all its appurtenances, on Amber Street.” (Quoted from “Date Stone Laying…”)
Holy Innocents’ Episcopal Church was the first church on the island. In 1885 the church was instrumental in providing the first teacher and schooling for the children of the few families who lived and worked on the island year-round. Classes took place in the parlor of Beach Haven House. A public school was built and opened that fall 1885.
The first Sunday School on the island was provided by Holy Innocents’ Church from 1886 – 1888. An average of 30 children attended and many parents accompanied them. The Sunday School moved to the Methodist Church after it was built, the children and parents being mostly Methodists. This may be a reflection of the economic class system of the time.
For forty years, worship services ceased after Holy Innocents’ Church was closed up for winter at the end of vacation season. In the off-season after 1924, Sunday services were held in the museum room of second floor of the Public Library on the corner of 3rd Street and Beach Avenue. Later, off-season worship was held in the Church House Chapel at 201 2nd Street. Church House was established by Mrs. Elizabeth B. Pharo, another early member and benefactress of the church. She was very interested in seeing the summer chapel open year-round.
The church provided another first for the island when the first year-round ministry began in the winter of 1929-1930, and she was a woman. Miss Aline Cronshey was employed as the first full-time lay minister for Christian Social Services. Miss Cronshey was a graduate of the New Jersey College for Women in New Brunswick, NJ. She earned a Master of Arts in Religious Education from Columbia University (in New York?) and had worked five years for the church on an Indian Reservation in North Dakota. Miss Cronshey was a remarkable woman. She ministered forty years before the Episcopal Church began ordaining women to the priesthood.
Mrs. Pharo offered the use of half of her brick cottage known as Church House at 201 2nd Street as a residence for Miss Cronshey. The first floor was converted into a chapel and Miss Cronshey lived on the second floor. She ministered to the year-round island dwellers, who were glad for her presence. They remembered her kindness and the ministries she offered. These included providing glasses for those in need, taking the sick to hospital, offering classes for boys and girls and teaching confirmation classes. Many joined the church as a result of her efforts. The Ladies Guild of the church was instrumental for funding and establishing the Christian Social Services ministry of Miss Cronshey during the difficult years of the Great Depression of the 1930s. Miss Cronshey probably ministered throughout the 1930s.
Holy Innocents’ Church became a year-round Mission Church in the mid 1930s. The Rev. George Haley Hann was appointed the first of three successive full-time Vicars. He served for five years from Sept. 1, 1936 through June 30, 1941 just months before the US was attacked by the Japanese, precipitating our entry into WW II. The Rev. Hann lived in the first Vicarage at 110 Amber Street. His responsibilities and Miss Cronshey’s included care of St. Stephen’s Episcopal Church in Waretown. During the Rev. Hann’s tenure, the small, heated chapel was built on the east side of the church for use in the cold winter months. The main church was unheated and only used during the summer season. The cost of this winter chapel was $5,363.23. It was dedicated by Bishop Gardner on June 6, 1938 and presumably open for worship that summer. It would not be consecrated until three months later on September 3, 1939 after the final balance of $1,205.58 had been paid. The Winter Chapel was converted into a Parish Hall in 1951.
The second Vicar to serve Holy Innocents’ Church was the Rev. L. Russell Clapp. His tenure lasted for eight years from July 1, 1941 until September 1, 1949, from the beginning of our involvement in WW II through the early years of the nuclear age and the beginning of the Cold War. His compensation at the beginning of his ministry included an annual salary of $1,800, the use of the church automobile and $240 operating expenses. Miss Cronshey had now concluded her ministry at Holy Innocents’ Church and Church House at 201 Second Street became the second Vicarage. Father Clapp lived here throughout his tenure as Vicar. He is the first priest to be called Father in the records.
The Rev. Frederick C. Price was the third Vicar of Holy Innocents’ Church. He ministered for four years from December 1, 1949 through November 1953. Because he was married and had a family, Mr. Price refused to live in Church House at 201 Second Street. So the Vestry rented a house at 2210 Atlantic Avenue in Spray Beach for his use until the third Vicarage had been built at 200 South Beach Avenue on the southwest corner of Beach Avenue and Amber Street. During his tenure, the main church was heated for year-round use, the Winter Chapel became the Parish Hall and Sunday School classroom, a Kitchen was added, the whole was attached to the main church, and the new Vicarage was built. This new Vicarage cost $17,500. How times have changed!
After 72 years of Mission Church status, Holy Innocents’ Episcopal Church became a fully self-sustaining Parish Church by decree of the Diocesan Convention of May 4, 1954. It was no longer necessary for the church to accept the services of a Vicar appointed by the Bishop. The Vestry would now call priests to serve as Rector of the Parish. Note that since full parish status was gained in 1954, Holy Innocents’ Church has been served by only four full-time Rectors. In addition there have been several priest assistants and deacons and at least two Interim Rectors as well.
On May 3, 1954, the day before Holy Innocents’ Church became a Parish, a call was extended to the Rev. Walter Josselyn Reed. Father Reed served for thirteen years as the first Rector of the Parish from July 1, 1954 until his retirement on December 31, 1967. The Vestry then appointed him the Rector Emeritus.
In 1883 the Baldwin Hotel was built two blocks south of the Engleside Hotel. It occupied the whole block where the present church and rectory are located. The Engleside was owned by Quakers who did not permit alcoholic beverages on the premises. The Baldwin, however, had a bar and did serve alcohol. This magnificent, late Victorian wooden beach resort hotel could accommodate 450 guests. Sadly, its fate would be that of the old Parry House and many other wooden seashore hotels. It was completely destroyed by fire in 1960. As was the custom at that time, the debris was bulldozed into a pit dug on site. This is now causing sinkholes to form in the front property and under the circular driveway off Marine Street.
Since the end of WW II, the island was rapidly being developed and the population was growing. This meant that the church was beginning to outgrow the old building. So, conversations began concerning a larger church building. Of course, these kinds of decisions can be difficult and there were probably many discussions about whether the congregation should move at all. Nevertheless, when the old Baldwin Hotel property became available after it burned in 1960, the church wisely purchased it on May 3, 1961 at a cost of $70,000. Half the cost of the lot was donated by Mr. H. Howard Colehower, another generous patron of the parish who was a Vestryman at the time. The balance of the mortgage was soon paid off. The parish worked for twelve years to raise the capital required to build a new church building with connecting parish hall.
The fourth and present residence for clergy and their families was built in 1964 on the old Baldwin lot at 410 S. Atlantic Avenue, the southeast corner of Marine Street and S. Atlantic. A marble tablet was set into the outside wall of the entrance doorway which reads “The Elizabeth B. Pharo Memorial Rectory.” The tablet has since been removed and is now stored in the Rectory garage. The memorial acknowledges that the present Rectory was partially purchased from the sale of the Church House at 201 Second Street that Mrs. Pharo had donated to the church in 1929/1930.
The Rev. Canon Gilbert Drew Martin, Jr. became the second Rector of Holy Innocents’ Church on February 1, 1968. He served for 18 years. The Rev. Donald Muller was the third Rector. He served for ? years. The Vestry called the Rev. Frank B. Crombaugh III to be the fourth full-time Rector. He would serve for twenty years from 1998 until he retired in February 2018. He gave the church pastoral leadership as it entered the third millennia.
A special parish meeting was held on August 26, 1973 at which plans for the new church building were approved and the congregation authorized the Vestry to proceed with the new building. Ground-Breaking Ceremonies were held on Sunday, September 30, 1973. The new church building was consecrated ion 1974 by the Rt. Rev. Albert W. Van Duzer, 8th Bishop of the Diocese of New Jersey.
On August 26, 1979 the Memorial Garden was consecrated by Bishop Van Duzer.
The Bethlehem Chapel is located in the Old Baptistry. The Baptistry was moved to the rear of the church where it is presently located and the chapel was created sometime in the 1980s. It was created in memory of Richard Van Dyke, Warden Emeritus, Usher, benefactor and friend of the parish for many years. The funds for the chapel came from a bequest from Mr. Van Dyke’s estate. The Crusaders Cross on the shelf behind the altar was a gift to the parish from the Ladies’ Guild in 1956 commemorating the 75th Anniversary of the parish.
Note: The written records of the parish end here.
Events in the National Episcopal Church since the 1970s
At the General Convention of the Episcopal Church held in January 1976, two resolutions supporting same-sex relationships and their legal rights were passed. By the end of the 1970s women were being ordained in the Episcopal Church. One of the woman ordained was openly homosexual.
The Episcopal Church revised the Book of Common Prayer again in 1979. A new Episcopal Hymnal was published in 1982. The Revised Standard Version of the Bible had been published in 1952. The New Revised Standard known for its inclusive language was published in 1989 and is now the translation of the scriptures regularly heard in Episcopal worship.
Barbara Harris, a black woman Episcopal priest was ordained the first woman Bishop in the Episcopal church in 1989. In 2003 Gene Robinson was the first openly gay man ordained Bishop in the Episcopal Church. In 2006 Katharine Jefferts Schori became the first woman Presiding Bishop of the Episcopal Church. In 2015 Michael Curry became the first black Presiding Bishop of the Episcopal Church.
Storms and Hurricanes
Hurricane of September 1901 – This storm knocked the steep off the old building and blew it across Beach Avenue onto the property now occupied by the theater. The storm lifted the church off its foundations and moved it to the middle of Beach Avenue where it landed on top the trolly tracks that ran the length of the avenue at that time.
Hurricane Sandy 2012 – This storm caused severe property damage the whole length of Long Beach Island. Fortunately, no damage was done to the either the church building or the rectory.
The stained-glass window in the front of the present church was moved from the original building. It was given by Mr. and Mrs. Charles T. Parry in loving memory of their daughter, Clara, and “other children in paradise.”
The ten hanging lamps, the pulpit and the lectern are also from the old church.
See attached notes concerning the present Baptistry and the Bethlehem Chapel
Vicarages and Rectories
1st Residence a Vicarage – 110 Amber Street 1917 – 1941
2nd Residence for the Christian Social Services Minister - 201 Second Street 1929 – 1941
Became 2nd Vicarage 1941 - 1949
3rd Residence a Vicarage – 200 South Beach Avenue 1950 – 1953
Became the 1st Rectory 1954 – 1964
4th Residence a Rectory – 410 South Atlantic Avenue 1964 - Present
Women of the Church
The Ladies Guild 1882 – 1935
Women’s Auxiliary 1936 – 1958
Episcopal Church Women (ECW) 1959 - Present
Ministers Title Dates Served
Various Episcopal Clergy N/A Beginning – July 1881
The Rev. Dr. James Hart Lamb Minister-in-Charge August 1882 – for several years
Various Episcopal Clergy Summer Clergy 1982 - 1936
The Rev. Canon Robert G. Williams
The Rev. John T. Ward
Miss Aline Cronshey Christian Social Services Worker year-round 1930 – 1941?
The Rev. George Haley Hann Vicar year round September 1, 1936 – June 30, 1941
The Rev. L. Russell Clapp Vicar year around July 1, 1941 – September 1, 1949
The Rev. Frederick C. Price Vicar year around December 1, 1949 – November 1953
The Rev. W. Josselyn Reed Rector July 1, 1954 – December 31, 1967
The Rev. Canon Gilbert Drew Martin, Jr. Rector Feb. 1, 1968 - ?
The Rev. Donald Muller Rector ? – 1997
The Rev. ? Interim Rector 1997 - 1998
The Rev. Frank B. Crumbaugh, III Rector 1998 - Feb. 2018
The Rev. Daniel W. Hinkle Interim Rector June 1, 2018 – Present
Datestone Laying, Dedication and Consecration of Holy Innocents’ Episcopal Church Beach Haven, NJ 1974
Images of America: Beach Haven by Gretchen F. Coyle and Deborah C. Whitcraft 2018
“A Short History of Holy Innocents’ Episcopal Church” by the Rev. W. Josselyn Reed, Rector at the time of the Diamond Jubilee 1955-1957
The Long Beach Island Museum now located in the old church building at the corner of Engleside and Beach AVenues in Beach Haven
The Episcopal Church of The Holy Innocents
|
English
|
NL
|
aae7394d25c4b7a679b2dcc678b1c850b768ee7fb13b01a3310fab999bee76b1
|
By A. Jessie Michael
The parcel arrived in a postal van and James’ wife, Doris, put it aside for James to return from work and open it. It was an annual ritual — its arrival and his opening of it. This cardboard box measuring one foot by one foot by ten inches, wrapped in brown paper, with colourful stamps all over the top right hand corner and cross-tied with twine, came all the way from Mathagal, James’ home village in the Jaffna peninsula to the North of Sri Lanka, by sea-mail, to Malacca in Malaysia, and it contained his very own piece of home.
Actually, two similar parcels arrived every year, the other one landing at the house of James’ brother Joseph in Singapore. Joseph, naturally a little sardonic and less nostalgic about the contents, let his wife Lily open the box. Nevertheless he appreciated the efforts put in by their sister in Mathagal for sending them this parcel, with a whiff of their homeland. He made Lily list each item in the box so that he would not forget them when he got Lily to write his sister a thank you letter in Tamil. His written Tamil was pretty rusty after near fifty years of disuse.
James came home at about 5.00 pm exhausted from office, saw his parcel and instantly his tiredness lifted. He hastily cut through the twine, tore off the brown paper and pried the box open, a boy-like delight showing on his face. A treasure-box of edible memories — fruits of the earth and sea!
It was the same every year but the pleasure never ceased. A dried, nine-inch stick of Maldive fish, so hard that it could serve as a weapon, and a large pack of slices of assorted, dried salted fish; a bag of brown rice from their family plot which was the only thing left of their bankrupted, dead father’s fortunes; several bundles of pulukodial (boiled and dried palmyra sprouts) and a whole lot of little palm-leaf baskets of compressed palmyra brown sugar. And last but not least, the so precious odial flour — made from pounding pulukodial— to make the signature broth of the Jaffna Tamils — kool*.
For a few hours, James stayed submerged in nostalgia as he returned to the rice fields and the palmyra groves of his childhood, the old house, his school — St. Patrick’s College, where he excelled and all else innocent that he had to give up to move to Malaysia, under Joseph’s wing, for a better future, when the family lost everything.
“Tell you what,” James said to Doris, “Let’s take the odial flour when we go to Singapore tomorrow. Lily will help you make kool and it will be a big treat for brother.”
Doris was happy enough for the suggestion. Eating kool needed a crowd. Joseph’s family of five, their cousin Francis who lived alone also in Singapore, and her own family of six would make twelve — a very manageable kool crowd.
Going to Singapore was an eight-hour trip in the cramped Vauxhall with a pit stop in Yong Peng for lunch. The children loved to visit their cousins who lived smack in the middle of the city on Kirk Terrace, above Dhoby Ghaut, and there was always the excitement of watching movies in the Cathay cinema at the end of Kirk Terrace. They were expected at Joseph’s house, so Lily had cooked copious amounts of food which the children soon demolished at tea and dinner. The next day was Joseph’s birthday, the reason for their get-together.
“For your birthday we are having a kool party,” declared Doris.
“What do you mean by cool? Ice cream?”
“Kool with a K,” Doris clarified.
“Oh, I thought you meant cool with a C!” replied Joseph. “Good idea! We have odial flour that sister just sent from Mathagal.”
“Oh, you got your parcel too?” James asked and they were soon comparing the contents of their boxes, which as it turned out, were identical.
“But you’ll need to buy a lot of ingredients for the kool,” fretted Joseph. “Lily, I think you should take Doris to the market with you to buy all the things you need. Then you won’t forget anything.” An unnecessary suggestion, as Lily knew what was needed, but Joseph felt it put him in a superior position for having suggested that his wife might need extra help.
Doris produced from her luggage a bundle of drumsticks or moringa pods and stalks of fresh, young moringa leaves carefully laid between newspaper sheets. It was from their tree in Malacca, the mother stem of which originated from Mathagal, carefully wrapped and carried by ship from a visit there so many years ago. Doris’ contribution took care of one of the main ingredients for the kool.
The next morning both women took a bus to the Bras Basah wet market before the children awoke or the men were ready. Lily was glad for the company. They picked out a large Garoupa fish head, several swimmer crabs, and some prawns at the fishmongers’ stalls, then headed for long beans and chillies. At the fruit stalls, they found jackfruit and bought three bags of the fleshy petals with the seeds still in them. They almost forgot the cassava but remembered before they left the market. Two tubers of arm’s length would be enough. With their baskets full, they caught the bus home and plodded up the slope of Kirk Terrace to the house.
They were home in time to feed the men and children breakfast. Their cousin Francis, the court interpreter who was prone to a little hypochondriasis, had also arrived, complaining of an impending cold. Joseph began his interrogation of the women. “Now did you buy the correct fish? The fish must be fresh. Was it fresh? Otherwise the kool will be smelly and spoilt.”
Lilly ignored him, giving him the usual “Hmmm, Hmmm” much to his annoyance.
James tried to distract his brother. “They know what they are doing. Why are you interfering? “
“I am not interfering! It is so hard to get good odial flour, we must not waste it.” Joseph was not about to give up his nagging and preaching of how the dish should be prepared, though he never ever cooked. It was an ingrained cultural habit, of seeming to be in charge of everything including how food should taste.
As the children took free rein of the first floor of the house, the women took to the kitchen and the men, comfortable in their sleeveless singlets and sarongs, settled in the armchairs of the living room to dissect the politics of their homeland.
“The trouble is, the Sinhalese fellows are jealous of the Jaffna Tamils. They are afraid of us.” Joseph was convinced he came from a superior race.
“In a way it is the British government’s fault. They gave us the education and the jobs, even overseas jobs, but they kept the Sinhalese subdued. Then, when the country got independence, they gave the power to the majority — which is the Sinhalese. And because they are all Buddhists, the monks are now the power brokers.” Francis knew a little more because he travelled to Jaffna every two years to visit his wife and children there. He could not afford to have them live in Singapore.
“Yes. The British should have realised that we are a different ethnic group from the Sinhalese. We are even different from the Indian Tamils they brought in here for labour. We have been in the Jaffna peninsula for generations! And we have the best Christian schools.” James had left the island when he was fifteen and returned twice on family matters.
“Can’t blame the Tamil leaders now for asking for some autonomy, especially since they are losing out on jobs and business opportunities in their own territory. I know they are resettling Sinhalese into Tamil areas. It is causing tension and there is already trouble in many areas.” Such social engineering was sacrilegious in Joseph’s eyes.
Francis was worried about the educational changes happening. “This latest business of changing the medium of education to Sinhala is really too much. Our children will lose their mother tongue.”
Their voices overlapped as they got more agitated and interrupted each other.
“You mean the children there? Our children here have already lost theirs. But at least they all speak good English”. That was Joseph, ever the proud English speaker. “What can you do with Sinhala? It is only used in Sri Lanka.”
“They have taken control of the schools,”interrupted James. “Already they have pushed the Tamils slowly out of the civil service jobs because Sinhala is the official language. I am wondering what next.”
“As you said, they are resettling a lot of Sinhala people into the North and paying them to move. This is their way of weakening the Tamil parties there.” Francis, though more reticent of the three, had the more reliable information, thanks to his regular calls and letters to and from his family in Sri lanka.
“The Tamils are quite well organised but they seem more interested in having a war with the government than finding a political solution through negotiation. Did you hear about the attacks on the West coast? Apparently, the Tamil Tigers have taken a stronghold there.”
“Yes, but this declaration of war is causing many people to flee overseas. All the young Tamil brains are leaving to study in England, France, Canada. I have a feeling the government might eye property after that.” Not that Joseph cared for any property there but he was almost apoplectic with indignation.
“They are already doing that brother,” confirmed James. “I heard that in troubled areas when Tamil populated villages are attacked by government troops, the villagers flee into the next village and the army is billeting soldiers into the abandoned homes.”
“You know what brother; I am worried about sister.” James worried about her incessantly. This sister had mothered him in childhood. “She is growing old. She is complaining it is harder to get labourers to work on the land. How long can she hold on to it herself? Her boys are working in Colombo now. We have to think of something.”
They all knew what the something was — sell. But it was a forbidden word. It would mean the end of memory, the end of the parcels, the end of kool.
But the moment passed.
Joseph asked “Did you get any news from Anthony?” This was their sister’s oldest son.
“Yes, yes!” replied James. “Every month I send him some money for the family and his part- time studies. He writes regularly.”
“I am glad you help him. He is a hardworking chap,” said Joseph of their nephew who was their news line from Sri Lanka and worth the investment of educational support.
“Anyway”, replied James, “Anthony wrote that there was trouble between some university students. The Tamil students have to score much higher grades than Sinhalese students to get into universities. That’s a terrible discrimination.”
“James, I heard that there are groups in Malaysia and Singapore, collecting funds for the Tamil cause. Has anyone approached you?”
“O yes! They asked me but I told them to go to hell. How do we know where the money will go? Probably into their own pockets!”
Francis who had been secretly giving small amounts to the cause with the dubious hope of protecting his wife and children in Jaffna, was too nervous to admit it lest the much older Joseph lambast him, so he merely said “Apparently, it is a big fund but we don’t know how they are going to use the money.”
“You should know that they are buying weapons – tanks, boats and guns! Don’t you fellows listen to the BBC?” Joseph tuned in daily to the BBC as faithfully as he said his morning prayers.
Having worked themselves up to a thirst, the men despatched James’ son and Joseph’s son, two teenaged boys, down to the nearby coffee shop for iced Stout, Tiger Beer and peanuts (this was during an era when there was no age barrier for the purchase of alcohol) and they continued their remote scrutiny of the fate of Sri Lanka.
Meanwhile, in the kitchen, the women prepared the kool in perfect tandem. Doris cleaned the seafood while Lily tackled the vegetables.
“How is your sister’s family in Sillalai?” asked Doris.
“They are not happy. Their children’s education is affected because they all have to learn Sinhala now. Also, there are gangs of men trying to influence their sons to join the Tamil political parties. They are only boys.”
“Are the older children married?”
“One girl is but the husband has only a small job. All the good jobs are in Colombo but it is difficult for the Jaffna boys to get jobs in the city. Besides, the cost of living there is too high.”
“I know,” replied Doris. “My sister’s family are managing because the girls are working. But we don’t know what the future will be for their children. They are still in Jaffna but they are worried the trouble will get into the town.”
When the ingredients were readied, the kool making began. Lily put a large pot of water to boil on a stove on the floor rather than on the table-top stove so that it would be easier to stir the broth. They added ginger and garlic, a little rice and the peeled and split jackfruit seeds, then chilli paste and turmeric. As these simmered, they topped the broth in turn with the cubed cassava and moringa leaves, and strips of jackfruit flesh, followed shortly by the short lengths of long beans and moringa pods, odial flour paste and then the quartered crabs and shelled prawns. A squeeze of tamarind followed and a measure of salt and finally the fish-head pieces that only needed the final boil of the broth to cook them through.
The house was soon encased in a steaming cloud of aromas.
The voices in the hall, fuelled by beer and stout became increasingly rambunctious.
Joseph’s voice was the loudest. Being the oldest, gave him some license to admonish.
“Don’t be stupid James! Don’t waste money on the house there. Who is going to live there in a few years? Everybody is leaving the village.”
“Who knows? When we retire it would be nice to go back.”
“Crazy fellow! My doctors are here. This is Singapore. The best facilities. You want to go to Mathagal in your old age? What doctors are there? The village medicine man? Not even in Jaffna town. Maybe Lily will want to go back. Her whole family is there.”
“Well,” said Francis, “my family and my house are there. I will definitely have to go back. My CPF savings will buy me nothing in Singapore but at least it converts to more in Jaffna.”
“Yes! Yes! You of course have to go back,” insisted Joseph. “What are you going to do here? You have nobody here and I may be dead soon.”
“Chi! chi!” protested Francis. “Don’t talk like a madman. You are not dying yet.”
“What do you know? I’ve had so many surgeries I could have died anytime. But God is good. I lived and I can still work… Lily! Is the kool ready? It is one o’ clock and I am hungry.”
“It’s all done,” replied Doris as she set bowls and spoons on the dining room table for the adults and on the kitchen table for the children.
The men adjourned to the food as the women served out bowlfuls of the steaming, colourful broth — turmeric yellow splashed with the green of the vegetables, the gold of jackfruit flesh, the red of cooked crab shells and the pink of prawns and the white of fish.
Joseph slurped his kool loudly, sucked at the cut lengths of moringa pods with gusto and picked at the crab pieces with his fingers. “Doris. This is very nice kool. Very tasty.”
“But Lily cooked it.” protested Doris.
“I know. But you helped and you are the guest so I must pay you the compliment.”
Lily hmphed but graciously acknowledged, “Doris did most of the work.”
Francis did his bit. “Very nice ladies. But you must admit, nothing like the Mathagal fish and crabs. From the ocean into the pot. Nothing beats that.”
They perspired profusely and their noses were running from the heat of the chilli but it did not deter them from relishing the tasty treat — spicy but tempered by the sweet taste of the seafood. They returned with renewed enthusiasm to the topic of returning to Jaffna. The women scoffed at James’ pipe dreams. Did he think the children would agree? Lily refused her husband’s offer that she should return there when he died. Her sisters were complaining of hardship in every letter they wrote. Why would she want to go there in old age while her children stayed in Singapore?
Yet the politics of Sri Lanka ran strong in their blood and mingled with the kool of Jaffna. They talked of memories and relatives, rogue leaders and footholds gained and lost by the rebels in all the little hamlets, villages and towns of the Jaffna Peninsula as they sat drinking kool and longing for their homeland which would soon bleed almost to death and which they would never see again.
*Kool is a speciality from Sri Lanka. It is drunk from bowls and is considered a broth or soup, similar to the Creole gumbo or French bouillabaisse. Made from local vegetables and fresh seafood, it uses odial flour as a mild thickener.
A. Jessie Michael is a retired Associate Professor of English from Malaysia and a writer of short stories and poems. She has written winning short stories for local magazines and newspaper competitions since the 1980’s and received honourable mentions in the Asiaweek Short Story Competitions. She has worked with writers groups in Melbourne, Australia and Suzhou, China. Her stories have also appeared in The Gombak Review, 22 Asian Short Stories (2015) She has published an anthology of short stories Snapshots, with two other writers and most recently her own anthology The Madman and Other Stories (2016).
Dear Reader, Please Support Kitaab!
Help promote Asian writing and writers. Become a Donor today!
|
English
|
NL
|
f007b0a9b14618928357f1d0ea1b2f185eaac1cd6e5190a19d51eaa67873a50f
|
Reflection from Jennifer Ramsay, Professional Storyteller and Art Therapist.
Many storytellers seem surprised when they discover that as well as being a professional storyteller I am also an Art Therapist and sometimes ask “What does storytelling and art therapy have in common?” The answer is simple because they both evolve around stories.
A lot of the stories I tell follow the structure of the hero’s journey. A character leaves his normal everyday life to answer a call to adventure. There he will find friends and mentors to help him pass the tests and enemies on his path. At the end of the journey the character is normally richer and wiser and there is learning. Every person also has their own hero’s Journey and as an art therapist my job is to accompany my clients so that they can take charge of their lives and feel comfortable in the leading role of their personal life journey. I also try help them contact with their inner resources so that they are able to overcome whatever tests may appear in their paths.
|
English
|
NL
|
089687f201b7d772339f728b71dc000797dc641449c94e07bd0b8072a3a764e2
|
Reading the Word of God continually, also many publications on the blessings and need of an absolute surrender, the Lord not only made me willing to consecrate myself fully to him, but same time prepared me to receive the present truth. (I must count it a real wonder, a special grace of the Lord, that I was able to read most of the time, as the nature of my illness, according to man's knowledge, makes reading impossible.) About this time a tract came to hand warning all Christian people against a publication called "MILLENNIAL DAWN,"denouncing same as a dangerous and anti-Christian work, and quoting numerous Scriptures in proof of this assertion. Carefully reading same I soon noted that most Scriptures quoted were given a different interpretation than I was led to understand them so far. This naturally awakened the desire to read the very publication mentioned and compare notes, but how and where to get these books was more than I knew. All I knew was the name, and this subsequently proved all sufficient, because only a few days after, two books were left in our house to be given to a party living near. Sitting in my chair near the table, and noting the paper on this package badly torn, I reached out to do it up better, andoh, wonder!MILLENNIAL DAWN was in my hand. Dear Bro. Russell, had it not been for the torn wrapper these precious books, which proved to me a source of instruction, joy and happiness for years, would have passed out of the house and I not any the wiser. Surely this was the Lord's doing. I was hungry for the truth, longing for more light, and true to his promise he provided. Glory to his name!
This was three years ago last winter and often almost overwhelming blessings received in the study of God's dear Word in the additional light presented, frequently makes me cry out: "Oh, Lord, I am utterly unworthy of so much grace. Grant that I, like clay in the potter's hand, may rest in thy Masterhand, to be prepared and molded into a vessel ready for thy use and honor only."
The books which, by the grace of God, you have been led to write and publish, have been an inestimable blessing to me, and some of my dear ones, and I cannot thank my dear Redeemer sufficiently for having directed my attention to them.
I read them over and over again; indeed, I may say I read nothing else but these and my Bible, and much as I loved the Scriptures before, they are doubly dear to me now; because, I have the key which opens up to me much that was mysterious and therefore not properly understood. Now, since through you and the other dear friends who labor together with you I have received this "present truth," the whole Scripture is illuminedGod's plan, in Christ, for the glorification of the Church, his body, and the salvation of the world, is grasped as never before, and I say, reverently, that I rejoice even with a joy unspeakable and full of glory. There are of course many things that I would like to talk with you about, with the hope that I might see more clearly than I do: but it is wonderful how the holy Spirit enlightensas one reads, ponders, prays, and compares the statements in the DAWN series with Scripture, endeavoring to rightly divide the Word of Truth, how the mists clear away, and the light of the truth fills the soul, and one gets a faint idea of what it is to be filled with the Spirit. I try, as I have opportunity to do, some harvest work, and have frequent chances for conversations. One is astonished at the various ways in which different people, many of them professed Christians, receive the truth. Some turn a deaf ear entirely, and change the conversation as quickly as possible; others are indifferentthe truth as preached is sufficient for them; they do not wish to be any wiser than their parents, etc.; still others are startled and state that the signs of the times indicate that some great catastrophe is approaching they know not what. Others, and these are the ministers and learned men I talk with, admit that we have fallen upon evil times; but that brighter times are coming, that an age of greater faith is approaching, etc. Pity they cannot see just how it is to be brought about! But, thank God, there are a few who have the listening ear. With those I earnestly talk, as aided by the spirit of God, and generally get them to promise to read one of the series of books, DAWN.
You will not be surprised when I tell you that I am about to withdraw from the Presbyterian Church here. For some time I have been studying the Confession of Faith, and of course I am not in accord with it, and for this reason cannot loyally remain. There are two other reasons why I must withdrawone is that I deplore the spirit of destructive criticism, and the evolutionary theories that not only exist in the Church but are tolerated and approved. Again, while in the Church I am bound, if loyal to its creed, to be silent about present truth; but I must speak, and therefore my course is plain.
I always appreciated the work being done through the colporteur service, but this appreciation has grown wonderfully since entering the pilgrim field, as coming in contact with the various little classes I have learned how some colporteuroften unknownsowed the first seed which gave the work in that place its start. If each colporteur could know how often we hear of such things discouragement would be unknown amongst them.
For instance, about two and a half years ago, I was at Savannah, Ga., and during my visit a sister told me how that city had been canvassed with apparently no results,books had been sold but no fruit could be seen. Two months ago, I went to Chauncey, Ga., for the first time, and in the course of my drive into the country I asked the brother how he first learned of these things. He said that some years ago his sister was working in Savannah, and one day a colporteur came to her employer's home. She answered the door bell, and found a colporteur there from whom she purchased "The Plan of the Ages." That book brought her and her two brothers into the light, and now, a hundred miles or so from Savannah, a grand little company is laboring and rejoicing because of the seed dropped by a colporteur.
I went to one place in Michigan where a brother and his wife were full of joy over the light which had come into their hearts and home. The brother told me that when his wife ordered the book he thought, "There's another one of those fake book agents," and tried to show the colporteur brother just how he felt about it. But he said to me, "Oh, Brother Barton, I only wish I knew who that brother was. How glad I would be if I could only show him how different is my feeling now, and could take back what occurred then."
Do you not think the Lord purposely keeps results from being seen by those who do the work in order to give room for the exercise of faith? They should believe their "labor is not in vain in the Lord," whether they can see its outward fruit or not. Our heavenly Father wants us to work for him, [R3644 : page 303] not for results,work from principle, not from a mere desire to see our efforts prospering.
Should we not also esteem the fruit borne in our lives of more consequence than the results of labors in the harvest field? Does not 2 Tim. 2:6 teach this?
So even if there was no fruit from the colporteur labors except the fruits of patience, humility and fortitude borne in our own lives, it would more than pay to be in that work, but there is other kind of fruit too, and we pilgrim brethren would like to tell of that for their encouragement.
I am so thankful to the Lord for having brought my husband and myself out of that awful darkness into the light of Present Truth, that I want to write you a few lines in regard to same. We were spiritualists for five years: In fact I was a trance medium, although I could never bring myself to take any money for it, as I regarded it altogether too holy to use it for earthly gain; yet for the past few years I was not satisfied with it and its teaching, and I prayed to the Lord to show me whether it was his work, as I had always remarked to the spirits if it were God's work I would be very thankful for the gift and to be his instrument to further his truth; but if it were the Devil's I did not wish for any of it. Whereupon they always replied, "There was no Devil," and that it was God's work. I gave up friends for their sake, and for two years I lived in a haunted house suffering untold agony, doing, as they told me, what God had ordained me to do, to release an earthbound spirit, the spirit of a man that committed suicide by cutting his throat from ear to ear.
Many times I suffered the horror and agony of having the sensation of a razor cut my throat from ear to ear. This they told me was to be a proof when that spirit was near me: Time upon time I suffered dying agonies to bring tests to friends. Prior to my coming into the Truth last fall, I had a very severe trial, which I thought I could not bear, and when I prayed to die a beautiful little form appeared assuring me God would forgive, and I would suffer no punishment if I committed suicide, which I had intended. But, thank God, my husband watched me until I became more calm, and could reason again. That was just one week before the booklet "What Say the Scriptures on Spiritualism" was placed in my hands. When studying that for two hours, and fighting the great battle all night, I knew who I had been serving, and so you can probably gain a glimpse of why I say awful darkness. In fact I could write many more experiences, should you think they would be any benefit to God's people.
I rejoice in the Lord and pray he may keep all. I desire to express my heartfelt thanks and appreciation to the Lord and to you, for the DAWNSas Bible Keys. May the Lord continue to bless you and use you as that faithful steward, is our earnest prayer.
Much love and greetings in the name of our dear Redeemer. May our Father continue to bless you richly in all your efforts to serve his cause. The Cleveland Church has requested me to inform you of the rich blessings derived from the Niagara Convention, not only by those who attended, but also by those who did not attend. We had a convention echo meeting last Sunday, and all who attended the Convention echoed the blessings they received to others. We had a delightful season of refreshing, so much so that we had to let you know about it. It was, indeed, good to be there, among so many of the Lord's people. Such a happy people, all so full of love and the spirit of unselfishness. If this is a foretaste of the heavenly joys, what will it be to have gained the crown and be forever with the Lord? It was a means of drawing those who attended closer to the Lord and a fresh endeavor to run the race set before us more patiently. These conventions, dear brother, are a great spiritual uplift and, as you said, the money expended was not wasted, and we think could not be spent better. The Niagara Convention was, by far, the most blessed convention we ever attended. We are so happy and thankful that you intend continuing them. May the Lord preserve you, to continue to give us such refreshing seasons of fellowship.
I am still rejoicing in the light, and appreciate the strong and helpful words in the WATCH TOWER and DAWN. You certainly lift the standard high, higher than any other religious teacher I ever knew, but none too high, and I rejoice in it. I am greatly enjoying the new Bible Studies, and as I am not where I can meet with others, I have pretty long lessons. Am not doing as much personal work as I could wish, but hope to be able to do more sometime.
|
English
|
NL
|
aacccea379017c18ec670979b9ecb2e88376ab19b17130a6fc2689e3cfd6cc63
|
Dan Levin, Director of Operations | email@example.com
Dan was born and raised in Wilmington Delaware. He attended Ithaca College and continued his studies at the Art Institute of Philadelphia, where he received an associate’s degree in the Culinary Arts. Since then he has also become a Certified Human Resources Professional through George mason University.
Dan began his career with SoDel Concepts in 2012 working his way through each restaurant in many capacities in order to become familiar with all aspects of SoDel Concepts’ businesses. During his time with the company, Dan has worked as a line cook, expeditor, and as part of the HaleyKammerer Consultant team. He has collaborated on projects with both HaleyKammerer Consulting and Highwater Management. He recently was promoted to the position of Director of Operations.
Dan lives in Rehoboth Beach with his wife Lauren and their daughter.
|
English
|
NL
|
87599bd3e52387e1511cdb86aae1c9a4c4f22f44e90ea00ece9bc5a1c0f1b40d
|
RIP Marie Severin
Marvel artist and colorist, Marie Severin, who began working in comics for EC Comics in the 1940s and is known for the co-creation of "Spider-Woman," has passed away, according to a report at Comic Book Resources.
She was 89.
Severin first worked at EC Comics, but when the anti-comics crusades of the 1950s largely ended that line, Severin left comics for a time. After she returned to Atlas, which became Marvel, her portfolio expanded, to the point that she was the main color artist for Marvel during the late 1960s. In the 1970s she left most of her color artist work behind to focus primarily on her pencilling.
The blog Hooded Utilitarian said of her 1970s work:
Perhaps her best known Marvel Comics work is her early-seventies tenure on their adaptations of the Robert E. Howard hero Kull the Conqueror; these stories are beautifully inked by her brother John. Their collaborative run is considered to be a classic of adventure comics and both siblings certainly deserve credit, but it is Marie’s great storytelling skills that drive the narratives. And, she is one of the few artists in comics who can match Kirby for compositional thrust, which is why she became the chief cover designer for Marvel for the next few decades.
Also in the 1970s, she co-created the character Spider-Woman and designed the costume for that character.
The Comic Book Legal Defense Fund described her career, in part, thusly:
Called the “First Lady of Comics,” award-winning artist and colorist Marie Severin has led one of the most interesting lives in the American comic book industry. Despite the myth that the industry was no place for a gal, her numerous achievements both in pre-code comics as well as in mainstream superhero fare proved time and time again that comics were in no way simply a boy’s club.
In the 1950s, she fought alongside the EC group when the crusade against comics was in full force. In the 1960s, she would replace Steve Ditko and Bill Everett as the artist on Marvel’s Doctor Strange and would co-create Spider-Woman, costume and all. In the 1970s through her retirement, she took a stab at and conquered almost every genre of comic book she tackled, from horror to humor. To Editor Al Feldstein she was “the conscience of EC,” to Stan Lee “Mirthful Marie,” and today she stands as the inspiration for many myths and legends, representing one of the most acclaimed woman cartoonists in (mainstream) comics history.
She was inducted into the Will Eisner Comics Hall of Fame in 2001.
|
English
|
NL
|
bef29e05991633a4a1f8460ee8a837095f084f9d8b59cc7c7a102933685feba1
|
The Adventures of Ulysses
Format: Global Grey free PDF, epub, Kindle ebook
Pages (PDF): 96
Publication Date: 1808
I run this site on my own and spend a lot of time (and money) creating these ebooks. Please support the site by buying a collection; like the Children's Literature one for only £4 or by making a small donation using the buttons below.PDF ePub Kindle
Fully illustrated, Charles Lamb wrote this small book in 1808 to tell the tale of Homer's Odyssey to children. It is a wonderfully well-written and accurate account of the story of Ulysses.
More books you might like:
This history tells of the wanderings of Ulysses and his followers in their return from Troy, after the destruction of that famous city of Asia by the Grecians. He was inflamed with a desire of seeing again, after a ten years' absence, his wife and native country, Ithaca. He was king of a barren spot, and a poor country in comparison of the fruitful plains of Asia, which he was leaving, or the wealthy kingdoms which he touched upon in his return; yet, wherever he came, he could never see a soil which appeared in his eyes half so sweet or desirable as his country earth. This made him refuse the offers of the goddess Calypso to stay with her, and partake of her immortality in the delightful island; and this gave him strength to break from the enchantments of Circe, the daughter of the Sun.
From Troy, ill winds cast Ulysses and his fleet upon the coast of the Cicons, a people hostile to the Grecians. Landing his forces, he laid siege to their chief city, Ismarus, which he took, and with it much spoil, and slew many people. But success proved fatal to him; for his soldiers, elated with the spoil, and the good store of provisions which they found in that place, fell to eating and drinking, forgetful of their safety, till the Cicons, who inhabited the coast, had time to assemble their friends and allies from the interior; who, mustering in prodigious force, set upon the Grecians, while they negligently revelled and feasted, and slew many of them, and recovered the spoil. They, dispirited and thinned in their numbers, with difficulty made their retreat good to the ships.
Thence they set sail, sad at heart, yet something cheered that with such fearful odds against them they had not all been utterly destroyed. A dreadful tempest ensued, which for two nights and two days tossed them about, but the third day the weather cleared, and they had hopes of a favourable gale to carry them to Ithaca; but, as they doubled the Cape of Malea, suddenly a north wind arising drove them back as far as Cythera. After that, for the space of nine days, contrary winds continued to drive them in an opposite direction to the point to which they were bound, and the tenth day they put in at a shore where a race of men dwell that are sustained by the fruit of the lotos-tree. Here Ulysses sent some of his men to land for fresh water, who were met by certain of the inhabitants, that gave them some of their country food to eat—not with any ill intention towards them, though in the event it proved pernicious; for, having eaten of this fruit, so pleasant it proved to their appetite that they in a minute quite forgot all thoughts of home, or of their countrymen, or of ever returning back to the ships to give an account of what sort of inhabitants dwelt there, but they would needs stay and live there among them, and eat of that precious food forever; and when Ulysses sent other of his men to look for them, and to bring them back by force, they strove, and wept, and would not leave their food for heaven itself, so much the pleasure of that enchanting fruit had bewitched them. But Ulysses caused them to be bound hand and foot, and cast under the hatches; and set sail with all possible speed from that baneful coast, lest others after them might taste the lotos, which had such strange qualities to make men forget their native country and the thoughts of home.
Coasting on all that night by unknown and out-of-the-way shores, they came by daybreak to the land where the Cyclops dwell, a sort of giant shepherds that neither sow nor plough, but the earth untilled produces for them rich wheat and barley and grapes, yet they have neither bread nor wine, nor know the arts of cultivation, nor care to know them; for they live each man to himself, without law or government, or anything like a state or kingdom; but their dwellings are in caves, on the steep heads of mountains; every man's household governed by his own caprice, or not governed at all; their wives and children as lawless as themselves, none caring for others, but each doing as he or she thinks good. Ships or boats they have none, nor artificers to make them, no trade or commerce, or wish to visit other shores; yet they have convenient places for harbours and for shipping. Here Ulysses with a chosen party of twelve followers landed, to explore what sort of men dwelt there, whether hospitable and friendly to strangers, or altogether wild and savage, for as yet no dwellers appeared in sight.
The first sign of habitation which they came to was a giant's cave rudely fashioned, but of a size which betokened the vast proportions of its owner; the pillars which supported it being the bodies of huge oaks or pines, in the natural state of the tree, and all about showed more marks of strength than skill in whoever built it. Ulysses, entering it, admired the savage contrivances and artless structure of the place, and longed to see the tenant of so outlandish a mansion; but well conjecturing that gifts would have more avail in extracting courtesy than strength would succeed in forcing it, from such a one as he expected to find the inhabitant, he resolved to flatter his hospitality with a present of Greek wine, of which he had store in twelve great vessels, so strong that no one ever drank it without an infusion of twenty parts of water to one of wine, yet the fragrance of it even then so delicious that it would have vexed a man who smelled it to abstain from tasting it; but whoever tasted it, it was able to raise his courage to the height of heroic deeds.
⇧ Back to top
|
English
|
NL
|
9d4246dda38f22eb9d8a06e694d94f4d31790ad28db3e0cc0cd5948af5442e8f
|
Gary Wayne Klessig, 68, of Mellette, SD, died Thursday, June 6, 2019. He was doing what he loved; fishing on Twin Lakes at Tulare, SD, with his dog Ziggy by his side, when he peacefully passed away. His memorial service will be 10:00 a.m. on Tuesday, June 11, 2019, at Plymouth Congregational United Church of Christ in Aberdeen, SD. Pastor Jon Damaska will officiate. Inurnment will take place at a later date at St. Peter’s Cemetery in New Richland, MN where he will be laid to rest beside his parents.
Visitation will be one hour prior to the service, from 9:00 – 10:00 a.m., at the church. Arrangements have been entrusted to Hyke Funeral Home in Redfield, SD (www.hykefuneralhome.com).
Gary Wayne Klessig was born December 26, 1950, in Owatonna, MN to Francis “Frank” and Nancy (Broscoff) Klessig. He attended country school in rural Owatonna before graduating from Owatonna High School. He then attended trade school for two years to become a certified gunsmith and engraver. With his brother already with the U.S. Army in Vietnam, Gary served his country with the U. S. National Guard until his honorable discharge.
Twenty-three years ago, Gary met Fran Ness and they had been together since that first date. Gary struggled for years with health problems and Fran was always at his side. After he received a heart transplant, Gary never hesitated to help others transition through the many stages of these life-saving operations.
Besides his passion for engraving guns, he was also passionate about fishing and hunting but also enjoyed drawing. He was a quiet man who was friendly and very hard working.
Gary is survived by his most significant other, Fran Ness of Mellette, SD; sons: Corey (Miriam) Klessig of Dallas, TX; Nate Klessig of Virginia; and Justin Klessig of Illinois; grandson Alec Klessig of Dallas, TX; and brother Gene Klessig of Waterville, MN. He is also survived by several cousins.
He is preceded in death by his parents; sister-in-law Nita Klessig; and several aunts and uncles.
|
English
|
NL
|
11cd0d641f713e1df90610f925769934717386e98fdbfa90cdfe2e8703a2f3b9
|
b. Attempts to kill Dr. Pont Du Loc with whatever he can find
Ignoring both his inexplicable desire to serve the Doctor as well as the man lurking in the shadows, Johnny decides the best course of action is to beat the shit out of Dr. Pont Du Loc with whatever resources he can find in his vicinity. He looks around on the ground and sees a large loose rock that one might logically find in a cave.
He runs over to it, picks it up with his chained hands, and runs toward the Doctor to slam him in the head with it. However, the Doctor has a remote in his pocket, which he retrieves. He uses it on Johnny, which instantly controls his body and freezes him in place as he still holds the rock over his head.
DR. PONT DU LOC
(shaking his head)
Slave, slave, slave. I am
so disappointed in you.
Your will is too strong.
Too strong to contain you.
In one of your movies,
this might be a good thing.
But here, it’ll just be
the end of you.
The Doctor holds the remote up in the direction of Johnny and presses another button on it. Johnny raises the rock in his hands and brings it down in full force on his own head. He does this repeatedly, causing much damage to his skull and brain until he is incapable of doing any more.
Johnny collapses on the ground, gradually dying. Then he does, hearing the Doctor’s signature evil laugh in the final instant before slipping into blackness.
This is probably the most pathetic ending. Congrats for reaching it. Go back to page 1 or try something else in the last scene so Johnny doesn’t bash his own head in with a rock.
|
English
|
NL
|
48d4d9ddbbdf4f441dc265ad436eb1621899b6c895077f6e38dc7e1bfa80e395
|
Cathleen Moore-Linn earned an MFA in English and writing from Long Island University in 2002 and a BA in communication from the University of Hawai`i at Manoa in 1983.
Moore-Linn has been with the University of Guam since October 2002 as its director of Integrated Marketing Communications. Prior to this, she worked in a similar capacity at Guam Community College. Moore-Linn has also taught courses as an adjunct instructor at both institutions. She is a short story writer, a former journalist and has an extensive background in public relations and marketing. Moore-Linn has been a resident of Guam since 1976.
|
English
|
NL
|
509d3653cdeb35d15197de415f849bdd3e8cdc23ecb04ff1a6d4d97fb5c8a777
|
Daughter in Limbo, answered by Lakshmibai
My now husband warned me from the first that his mother is opinionated. I thought that I’d won her over, though. We’ve always been friendly. On our wedding day, she came up to me AS THE MUSIC WAS PLAYING to tell me she knew that I didn’t love her son and I was just marrying him for their money. I have no idea what I said, but the ceremony had already started so I watched the usher guide her down the aisle and went on with the wedding. By the time I saw her at the cocktail hour, she was already slurring, so I’m pretty sure she had already been drinking when this happened. I haven’t told my husband yet. I know it sounds crazy, but his family is much richer than mine and I’m embarrassed to repeat what his mom said. What do I do?
Daughter In Limbo
Dear Daughter in Limbo,
You do not have the problem you think you have. You are not a daughter in limbo, but a wife. You have vowed to spend the time remaining to you in this life with your new husband. You must now face down the wide world together, severable only by death. This means that your problems are his problems, so you must not hide from him. Truth is the only substance as eternal as our spirits and you must join yours with his.
Your vows also hold the secret to setting aside your shame of class. Life is strewn with unforeseeable difficulties. You do not know what his future holds, but there will likely be a day when your new family is grateful for some facet of you that now sets you apart.
I was a young girl when I married a handsome ruler, but I knew the Raja’s circle disapproved long before they said it to my face. His parents had already returned to the cycle of rebirth, but the his family’s dislike of me was simmering and palpable. The Peshwa who’d raised me and arranged the marriage was too powerful to refuse, but that did not mean I was welcomed. Jhansi had seen such turmoil. My new husband was a good ruler, but they wanted a child of good blood to ensure the future would be more reliable than the past.
I was too foreign, too wild, and too untrained. What kind of woman prefers to ride a horse than to be carried in a palanquin? Who practices archery every morning? Why would she ever touch a sword, much less learn to fight with one? My father even came with me, to serve my husband as he had the Peshwa and help guide me into becoming the Rani they demanded. I changed my name to Lakshmibai to honor my new family. I learned from my husband’s decisions. I observed the intricacies of my new home.
I had no woman to guide me in the making of the heir. My husband seemed to find our marital bed a chore, one to be endured by both of us. I asked what I could do to be more pleasing, but he gave me no answer. My father finally told me the rumors that he had not often visited the bedchamber of his previous wife, who had died without giving Jhansi an heir.
I was overjoyed when we finally had a son and devastated when he left us so soon. As my poor husband seemed to slowly release his hold upon the world, we adopted his cousin. His will left our new son to my custody and Jhansi to my regency. His cenotaph was still being built when the British seized Jhansi, thinking a woman and a child to be poor defenders.
Everything my husband’s family had dismissed in me became my greatest weapons. I had the character to fight for our family and the skills to do it. I led the revolt that shook the British Empire.
I do not know what skills you will call on in the service of your new family. Neither do you. Your upbringing made you into who you are and you should revel in the person you have become. You and your husband must decide together how or if you should respond to his mother’s accusation. But in sharing the truth with him, you will have already proven her accusation wrong.
Jhansi ki Rani Lakshmibai
Born on November 19, 1828 in Varanasi to Bhagirathi Sapre and Moropante Tambe, an official in the court of the Peshwa of Bithoor. Died on June 18, 1858 in the Battle of Gwailor. Known to history as the Rani of Jhansi, Lakshmibai was one of the leaders of the First War of Indian Independence. When the British besieged Jhansi - which she had taken control of at the start of the war – she led a fierce resistance and only when all hope of holding the fort was gone did she escape on horseback with her adopted son strapped to her back. She and her soldiers joined the main contingent of rebels and fought in a major battle with British outside Gwailor, during which she was either killed or so badly wounded that she died shortly after.
|
English
|
NL
|
9cb3c043751cc75c0b5bbc75f19d5c6831bb4b0a24cdbf1b254d5fcdce389e74
|
Executions In Kent
The following seven were arraigned for heresy: Joan Bainbridge, of
Staplehurst; W. Appleby, Petronella his wife, and the wife of John
Manning, of Maidstone; B. Allin, and his wife Catherine, of Freytenden;
and Elizabeth ----, a blind maiden. Allin was put in the stocks at
night, and some advised him to compromise a little, and go for the
form's sake to mass, which he did next day, but, just before the
sacring, as it is termed, he went into the churchyard, and so reasoned
with himself upon the absurdity of transubstantiation, that he staid
away, and was soon after brought back again before Sir John Baker, and
condemned for heresy. He was burnt with the six before mentioned at
Maidstone, the 18th of June, 1557.
As in the last sacrifice four women did honour to the truth, so in the
following auto-de-fe we have the like number of females and males, who
suffered June 30, 1557, at Canterbury, and were J. Fishcock, F. White,
N. Pardue, Barbary Final, widow; Bradbridge's widow; Wilson's wife; and
Of this group we shall more particularly notice Alice Benden, wife of
Edward Benden, of Staplehurst, Kent. She had been taken up in Oct. 1556,
for non-attendance, and released upon a strong injunction to mind her
conduct. Her husband was a bigoted catholic, and publicly speaking of
his wife's contumacy, she was conveyed to Canterbury castle, where
knowing, when she should be removed to the bishop's prison, she should
be almost starved upon three farthings a day, she endeavoured to prepare
herself for this suffering by living upon two-pence halfpenny per day.
Jan. 22, 1557, her husband wrote to the bishop, that if his wife's
brother, Roger Hall, were to be kept from consoling and relieving her,
she might turn; on this account, she was moved to a prison called
Monday's hole; her brother sought diligently for her, and at the end of
five weeks providentially heard her voice in the dungeon, but could no
otherwise relieve her, than by putting some money in a loaf, and
sticking it on a long pole. Dreadful must have been the situation of
this poor victim, lying on straw, between stone walls, without a change
of apparel, or the meanest requisites of cleanliness, during a period of
March 25, she was summoned before the bishop, who, with rewards, offered
her liberty if she would go home and be comfortable; but Mrs. Benden had
been inured to suffering, and, showing him her contracted limbs and
emaciated appearance, refused to swerve from the truth. She was however
removed from this Black Hole to the West gate, whence, about the end of
April, she was taken out to be condemned, and then committed to the
castle prison till the 19th of June, the day of her burning. At the
stake, she gave her handkerchief to one John Banks, as a memorial; and
from her waist she drew a white lace, desiring him to give it her
brother, and tell him, it was the last band that had bound her, except
the chain; and to her father she returned a shilling he had sent her.
The whole of these seven martyrs undressed themselves with alacrity,
and, being prepared, knelt down, and prayed with an earnestness and
Christian spirit that even the enemies of the Cross were affected. After
invocation made together, they were secured to the stake, and, being
encompassed with the unsparing flames, they yielded their souls into the
hands of the living Lord.
Matthew Plaise, weaver, a sincere and shrewd Christian, of Stone, Kent,
was brought before Thomas, bishop of Dover, and other inquisitors, whom
he ingeniously teazed by his indirect answers, of which the following is
Dr. Harpsfield. Christ called the bread his body; what dost thou say
Plaise. I do believe it was that which he gave them.
Dr. H. What was that?
P. That which he brake.
Dr. H. What did he break?
P. That which he took.
Dr. H. What did he take?
P. The text saith, "He took bread."
Dr. H. Well, then, thou sayest it was but bread which the disciples
P. I say, what he gave them, that did they eat indeed.
A very long disputation followed, in which Plaise was desired to humble
himself to the bishop; but this he refused. Whether this zealous person
died in prison, was executed, or delivered, history does not mention.
Next: Execution Of Ten Martyrs At Lewes
Previous: T Loseby H Ramsey T Thirtell Margaret Hide And Agnes Stanley
|
English
|
NL
|
468c74aead2a5149c1766ffc6c5ec9a818e1ab9694cbadfb1bac79b015f54004
|
RTE television broadcasted Mass from St Finian’s College on St Patrick’s Day. Congratulations to the school staff, choirs, string ensemble, harp ensemble and traditional Irish music group who took part in the beautiful liturgy.
Homily of Rev. Dr Paul Connell
President of St Finian’s College, Mullingar
‘My name is Patrick…
I am a sinner, a simple country person, and the least of all believers. I am looked down upon by many.
My father was Calpornius. He was a deacon; his father was Potitus, a priest, who lived at Bannavem Taburniae.
His home was near there, and that is where I was taken prisoner.
I was about sixteen at the time.
These are the words of Patrick himself from his Confessio beginning his story of how he was captured and taken to Ireland. What strikes me particularly are his first words I am a sinner, a simple country person and the least of all believers. Words that are strikingly similar to those of Peter in the gospel that we have just heard. Leave me Lord; I am a sinful man.
The figure of Peter dominates today’s gospel. I think Peter is a tremendously consoling figure for all of us. He is so human an impetuous – he follows Jesus to walk on the water almost without thinking. And then he takes fright and falters. When Jesus speaks of his death, Peter says no, this must never happen. And Jesus rebukes him – get behind me Satan. He has no hesitation in declaring to Jesus – you are the Messiah, almost without thinking of what he was saying. He swears to die for Jesus and then he falls asleep in the garden of Gethsemene. When Jesus is arrested he lashes out and takes off Malchus’ ear. And yet later he fulfills Jesus’ prophetic words of betrayal by saying – Woman, I do not know him. And yet at the back of it all as we see in today’s gospel he is a very humble man – Leave me Lord for I am a sinful man. Peter is no figure of perfection, quite the opposite he is human, imperfect, sinful. And yet despite his clumsiness and sinfulness, his cowardice and pride he endured through it all. He remains faithful to Jesus, leads the Church after his crucifixion and dies a martyr in Rome.
And the story of the early church is an extraordinary one. These frightened men hiding in the aftermath of the crucifixion are emboldened by their resurrection experiences and they go out spreading the gospel led by Peter – the key figure in the early church. And Christianity spreads quickly across the known world. Why was that? Quite simply because the Gospel message was so attractive. The good news of a loving God who cared deeply for each person, who was forgiving and who encouraged his followers to be loving, caring and compassionate. A God of Mercy and compassion. What a contrast with the world of the pagan Gods, most of whom were vindictive and cruel and who were above everything else to be feared.
And this was the world that Patrick knew and experienced when he came to Ireland. There is a tendency today on the part of some to paint a very romantic picture of Celtic Ireland – a place of peace, contentment, a living atmosphere of spirituality and closeness to God. And no doubt there were such places within that society as indeed there are today. There was a darker side; one of oppression and cruelty and slavery. And it was this darker Ireland that brought Patrick here against his will. And yet the experience strengthened his faith and somehow despite his painful experience and sense of unworthiness he was able to answer God’s call to return and spread the good news of the Gospel.
As we reflect on this great figure in our history we give thanks today for the heritage of faith bequeathed to us by Patrick and indeed by Peter before him. And this deposit of faith is not to be dismissed lightly. Each of us worships this same God of mercy and compassion given to our ancestors by Patrick and passed on to us by our parents. And we are reminded of what Pope Francis has asked each of us to do in this Year of Mercy. Two things he has highlighted. He asks us not to be indifferent to God, to make a place for God in our lives. And secondly he asks us to live a life of mercy – to show God
|
English
|
NL
|
a2639e92eaff24f58b9d9425374dcc9a4d0b3b3aaa05190746385b6b418034bf
|
The concept of making handmade area rugs from India started somewhere during mid 15th centaury by skilled Persian weavers brought by Mughals. Hand-Knotted Wool rugs from India were mainly produced for their palace during that period.
During the 16th, 17th and 18th century many fine Indian area rugs &carpets were woven here made of the finest sheep wool and silk, with Persian patterns.
Rugs made in India were mainly popular and liked by all during the above period but become largely commercial after the Independence of India. Hand-Knotted rugs from India become much popular in the late 19th century.
Handmade Wool Rugs from India
The right Indian rugs can make or break the décor of a room. Take a look at this style
guide that will help you make the best selection.
|
English
|
NL
|
d82cc3ac30bd368af5aacde307783089cdd6d6f0a682fe8ab146673cbf73af82
|
She was aware of her headache before she was fully awake. She didn’t open her eyes, just squeezed them tighter closed and lay very still. But the headache didn’t ease off, and as her awareness of it grew, it went from an ache to an acute pain.
Her eyes finally opened, but through her blurred vision she could only tell that she was in a dimly lit room with a half-opened curtain. She attempted to roll over onto her back, but her whole body was stiff, and as she turned she let out a low moan. Sitting up was out of the question for at least the next few minutes.
Where am I? she wondered. Where is Amy?
Through her headache haze she felt a chill, and she tried to pull a blanket back over her. She realized then that she was half dressed, wearing only her tank-top and underwear, and for the first time she was concerned.
It was the thirst that motivated her to finally sit upright. She did it slowly, resting first on her elbows and then leaning forward with her head on her knee, but her vision was still blackened. There was a glass of water on the nightstand, and she reached for it and drank it quickly.
One sip revealed that it wasn’t water, but something more like a watered-down mixed drink, and she nearly vomited at the taste. She sat the glass back on the nightstand.
There was nothing else to do but stand up and walk to the bathroom. She stood deliberately and stumbled around the bed, tripping a time or two and resting when she reached the wall, but she finally reached the bathroom and turned on the light. The brightness hit her hard in the face and the pain in her head increased.
The giant mirror was impossible to avoid, and as she filled the complimentary glass with water she glanced at her reflection. Her hair was still crunchy from hairspray, swept all about her head in a dramatic fashion. The eye makeup that she had painstakingly applied the evening before was smudged from her eyebrows to her cheeks, and her face was swollen slightly–just enough to disgust her.
She drank the a few sips of water, took a deep breath, and began to search for her purse. Surely her purse was in the room–though she had no recollection of bringing it into the room or even being in the room at all before waking up that morning–and it was. Slung over the back of a chair near the window, waiting for her to rummage around and find her ibuprofen. She counted out five and swallowed all at once.
As she took a long sip of water to wash the pills down, the hotel room door opened. Expecting Amy, she turned around as she said, “There you are–”
She had been planning to follow with …so now you can tell me what the hell happened, but she didn’t, because it wasn’t Amy that had walked into the room.
Fear encapsulated her. Her headache was forgotten and her state of undress remembered, but there was nothing nearby to grab to cover herself with. She maneuvered behind the chair and stared–mouth agape, questions overlapping in her mind–and finally whispered a single word.
Her mother stared back at her, arms crossed and face solemn.
“Obviously, Samantha. Amy met me in the lobby and gave me her key. I’m going back down there to wait–you have five minutes to be down there as well.”
“Where are we going?”
“You already know, darling. You’re just afraid to admit it.”
“Exactly. Five minutes.”
Her mother slammed the door and Samantha walked out from behind the chair, letting herself sit down for just a moment.
She wondered if she’d be allowed to go pack up her apartment bedroom first, or if that had already been done. Lord help her if they’d gone through her things.
The bottle of ibuprofen was still in her hands, and she shook it a bit to get the weight of it. It crossed her mind that taking the entire contents of the bottle all at once might just do her in, and for a moment she just stared at it.
Better not, she decided, and she stood up to find her pants.
|
English
|
NL
|
cf4369700e5fd7158b8d23392e9403016ccb67db1b5f58f79d4093b93c9b6805
|
So… um… Mo Bao Fei Bao had not intended to torture readers and had resolved the cliffhanger the next update, but the publisher decided to move this insert chapter here instead. And since I’m following the published book… tehe… You don’t get to find out what happened to Shi Yi until one more update after.
Insert Chapter 2 – Treasure of My Heart
When the crown prince was five years old, he learned that the year he was born into the world, the various dukes, marquis, and high-level officials had suspected a mutiny within the imperial palace. The emperor’s reason of death was unclear, and he, the crown prince had also come into position under unclear circumstances. But he was being viewed unjustly as well. The empress at the time had no children of her own, and so, she selected the youngest imperial child to be the crown prince.
And hence, this became the perk that had simply fallen into his lap.
At five years old, he already understood this truth.
To not contend for, not rob, not seize, and not desire anything.
When Empress Dowager told him to walk, he would walk, and when she told him to stop, he would stop.
The crown prince was frail from sickness, and the medicines he had taken since he was young numbered more than the food he had partaken. At the empress dowager’s rebuke, he had had to stand one full day and night before the palace gates with a bowl of medicine cupped in his hands, not daring to move. Not allowed to move. Then, he had only been seven years old. He loved birds, and so, birds would die. He adored and yearned for the fish swimming in the waters, so from age seven to sixteen, he never saw another fish. The power to give life or death, including this lowly little person’s life, was held in the hands of the woman who called herself, “Empress Dowager.”
Gradually, he learned to not long for any living thing.
Until he saw her portrait painting.
The daughter of the Cui family of Qinghe –– Shi Yi.
Her features were clean and delicate, but they were nothing more than clean and delicate. The two eunuchs attending by his side bowed and informed him in a low voice, “Imperial Highness, this is your future crown princess.” He looked at the young girl in the portrait, who was merely ten years old and, with brush in hand, was painting.
She was the only gift he had ever been bestowed.
A feeling of wild elation filled him, but he dared not show it.
Since that day, every month, he would receive a painting of her as well as a written record of her each day.
She did not have the ability of speech and only enjoyed reading and painting. The books she read encompassed all varieties of subject matters, and some were very interesting and entertaining. When she painted, she was only willing to paint lotus flowers. Lotus flower? What could be so good about the lotus flower? Perhaps this was an interest of a young girl. He did not understand, nor did he need to understand.
But her lotus flowers were painted very beautifully, indeed.
Each time, he tried to copy, to recreate her paintings, but he was unable to capture their essence.
Shi Yi. Eleven.
Amid the disciples of the Xiao Nanchen Prince’s manor, she occupied merely the eleventh position. That year when she was seven years old, she had entered the manor and had been treated unkindly. Unable to speak, she could only be submissive and yielding. Later, she had often hidden herself in the library tower, and for an entire day at a time, her presence would not be seen. Was she also like him, averse to sharing her heart with other people?
That is no matter. In the future, you will be the most respected and honored woman in this palace. If you do not want to share your heart with other people, then there will only be you and me. I will never treat you unkindly.
After several years passed, as she gradually grew older, her senior brother and sisters now cherished and protected her, and she was also the sole person who received Xiao Nanchen Prince’s doting affection.
He gathered famous teas from around the lands and sought out a lost music manuscript of a previous dynasty for her.
The relationship between Xiao Nanchen Prince and the preordained crown princess was ambiguous and questionable.
On the day of the empress dowager’s birthday celebration, someone had submitted a statement to the throne claiming Xiao Nanchen Prince’s intention to rebel against the state.
Many similar statements to the throne were submitted each year, and each year, they would be suppressed and controlled. This year, there was listed an additional charge against him, stating the rumours regarding him and the crown princess. Glaring out at the imperial court, the empress dowager threw down the statement and fiercely demanded, “The one who put forth this statement, stand forward. Should you unseat Xiao Nanchen Prince, the one hundred thousand retainers in his service shall belong to you.”
Nobody dared respond to the summons. All were silent, like the cicadas when the cold fell.
Surely, that was in jest. Xiao Nanchen Prince had led armies into battle since youth and had never suffered a defeat.
When the crown prince heard news of this in the Eastern Palace, he also did not say anything.
Who did not know that, in his ten years in this position, this puppet crown prince had always also been a voiceless crown prince?
How could the empress dowager not be afraid? The former armed uprising by the dukes, marquis, and high-level officials had been a result of a single statement by this Xiao Nanchen Prince:
“A rebellion is suspected within the palace.”
If he should he want the entire empire, she would have no choice but to submissively offer it up to him, so what was a mere crown princess? The empress dowager had once told her closest eunuchs, the roles people play all must mutually give some face to one another. She had chosen to disregard the lands to the northwest, asking only for peace and security for the remainder of her life and that Xiao Nanchen Prince would spare this imperial palace and dynasty so she, halfway into old age already, could peacefully enjoy riches and honor.
But the affairs of the world were unpredictable. The empress dowager died unexpectedly within the palace.
The crown prince sealed the imperial city and prevented the announcement of this to the world. Using the empress dowager’s name, the first imperial decree he wrote was to summon the crown princess into the palace to complete the marriage ceremony. And on that same day, he sent out a secret imperial summons to the Cui family of Qinghe to enter the palace.
That day, the representatives of the Cui family of Qinghe walked past each heavy palace gate and knelt outside of the Eastern Palace for two full shichen [four hours]. Half a chi [approximately 15-16 cm] of snow had accumulated. Their garments were sodden, and their knees had long since grown numb from the cold. They knelt into the middle of the night until finally, a eunuch came to lead them inside.
The crown prince of the Eastern Palace. Nobody from outside of the imperial palace had ever seen him before. The father and sons of the Cui family of Qinghe had been bestowed an utmost honour.
Upon the daybed, the pasty-complexioned man, who had eyes so dark they seemed as if ink had been dabbed on them, was wrapped in a thick, heavy cloak as he watched them for one entire shichen [two hours].
He uttered not a single word or phrase, occasionally merely drinking some water to moisten his throat.
As daybreak approached, someone brought in medicine. Through the rising steam of the medicine, his face seemed hazy, and he began to cough.
Within the vast Eastern Palace, there was not the slightest sound except for his wave after wave of coughing.
The father and sons of the Cui family of Qinghe hastily fell to their knees, pressing their faces to the ground, and they revealed to him what they had discussed on their way here: how Eleven’s name would be used to lure Xiao Nanchen Prince into a trap to kill him. Crown Prince listened quietly but was somewhat displeased. “No matter what, Xiao Nanchen Prince is Zhen’s [the imperial “I”] uncle. Your plan… is too wicked and underhanded. If the empress learns of this, how will Zhen explain it to her?”
An imperial succession ceremony had not yet been held, yet he was addressing himself as “Zhen.”
“Your Imperial Majesty…” The father and sons of the Cui family of Qinghe hurriedly touched their foreheads against the floor further. “Zhousheng Chen is a great threat. To not eliminate him thus means that stability and order cannot be brought to the empire!”
He carried on drinking his medicine with lowered head. The steam seemed to stain his features until they became rather indistinct.
This scheme ultimately had captured the Xiao Nanchen Prince.
From when he assumed the position of crown prince, the first time he had ever met this Xiao Nanchen Prince was in a dimly lit dungeon. He as the ruler, he as the subject. He stood before him, yet he did not bow to him.
The crown prince of the past, now the emperor of the present.
To have taken the world but to have never received a bow from him.
Yet, he could not be blamed for that. He was dead already.
He wore a thick robe and cloak, but he still could not bear the cold, damp air of the dungeon. In his ten years in the imperial palace, by the bestowment of the empress dowager, daily, he had drunk poison, and now, he could only daily take medicines to prolong his life.
All he wanted was the one gift he had ever been granted, the only person that had ever belonged to him.
“In the imperial decree that day, when Zhen ordered you to adopt her as your daughter, my meaning had been to grant this empire to you in exchange for the beautiful maiden.” He smiled forlornly, and in a somewhat self-depracating manner, he said to that person who was already dead, “At most, my lifespan is only another ten years. Ten years from now, who would have dared try to take it from you?
“In the entire world, only the empress dowager and I knew the mystery of your birth and background. The empress dowager is dead, and Zhen will not say anything either. It is Zhen who has done wrong against you.” The night wind dispersed the smoke of the candle.
He left, leaving orders for a generous burial, but the criminal charge of conspiring and rebelling against the state still remained.
All of you were the ones who forced Zhen.
If Empress Dowager had not intended on allowing you to be with her, I would not have had to poison her, my imperial mother.
If you had not defied the decree, Zhen would not have plotted your death. With the death of Xiao Nanchen Prince, who in the imperial courts is now capable of shouldering the weight of this land? Nobody. Lives shall fall into suffering. People shall be forced to leave their homes into wandering.
Zhen had not intended this, nor did Zhen want this. But Zhen…
Historical records stated:
Emperor Dongling: Since childhood, he had been confined within the Eastern Palace, not allowed to come forth and be seen by others. Later, he received the assistance of the Cui family of Qinghe and captured the treasonous official, Xiao Nanchen Prince to bring justice back into the laws of the imperial court. The emperor’s hatred for the Xiao Nanchen Prince ran deep into his bones due to rumors of the illicit relationship with the crown princess and hence, bestowed the punishment of death by deboning upon him.
Xiao Nanchen Prince’s sentence was carried out for a full three shichen [6 hours], but there was not a single cry or howl of anguish. Even to death, he refused to repent.
His reign was for three years before his abrupt death. He left no offspring.
By the river, threads of spring rain; by the river, grass stretches levelly along the shore.
The Six Dynasties of the past now seem but a dream amid the birds’ empty twitters.
Most unfeeling are the willow trees of Taicheng,
For still they stand unchanging along the miles of misty riverbanks.
The Six Dynasties were but faded away. Enmities and grievances had passed. Yet, Chang’an still stood.
Will you let me have the chance to truly see you, in person?
皇城 “huang cheng.” This term, “imperial city” is not referring to the capital city, nor is it referring to the imperial palace. It was an area between the capital city (where the commoners resided) and the imperial palace. The imperial city, which was surrounded by its own city wall, was where the imperial kin lived (imperial uncles, aunts, etc.) and also contained things like government storehouses and offices, etc.
尺 “chi.” A Chinese unit of length. Often described as the “Chinese foot.” The exact measurement of a “chi” has changed throughout history, ranging between 17 to 33 cm. In the 20th century, it was standardized to be equivalent to 33.33 cm. Although the ancient parts in this story are set in a purely fictional era, based on the clues we’ve been given, we know it is after the Tang dynasty and at the latest, in the early Song dynasty (hoju’s deduction only…), when the “chi” was approximately 31-32 cm.
朕 “zhen.” In far ancient times, this character meant simply “I” or “me.” From the time of Emperor Qin Shi Huang, the first emperor of China, this became something used by the emperor only. Hence, “Zhen” is the self-address used by Chinese emperors and can be thought of as the “imperial I”.
六朝 “liu chao.” The Six Dynasties was a period spanning from 220-589 A.D. (see footnote in Chapter 10.1)
These four lines make up the poem, 台城 “Taicheng” by Tang dynasty poet, 韦庄 Wei Zhuang. The city of Jinling, which is now present day Nanjing, was the capital capital city during the time of the Six Dynasties and was a prosperous city at the time. This poem was written ~300 years after the end of that period. Taicheng was the site within the capital where the government site and palace once stood during that period. In short, the poem is saying, where once there stood a site of prosperity, now there is only a stretch of grass being dampened by the spring rain. But the willow trees that may have even witnessed the fall of that era are unfeeling, for unaffected by all of it, they continue to do as they always did, changing only with the seasons.
My ancient-setting translating is a little rusty. :p All those palace terms…
You all know how Xiao Nanchen Prince’s death saddens me and how I really feel for Shi Yi, who has to know the historical records of this great man are all lies. Eleven was anguished that it was her father and brothers who had framed and plotted against him, and modern day Shi Yi, despite having only fuzzy memories and not knowing how exactly he had died, knows that she owes him a great debt (following the belief that the debts of one’s father is paid by his children). What would happen if Eleven had ever found out, or if Shi Yi somehow gains the knowledge that Xiao Nanchen Prince had only fallen into the trap because her family had used her as bait? How devastating. 😦
By the way, I know you are all eagerly wanting to find out what’s going on with modern Shi Yi, but this chapter is rather interesting. Did you change your perception of the crown prince? It was not for power or out of fear of losing his throne to his imperial uncle that he participated in the trap that ultimately captured Xiao Nanchen Prince and led to his death. He just wanted something to belong to him exclusively, and it was done out of jealousy and fear of not getting to “have” Shi Yi. If a psychological assessment was done on him, I’m sure more than one flag would pop up saying the poor man did not have all of his marbles, but a life of confinement, psychological torture, and then physical harm through slow poisoning would be enough to cause anyone to be a little unstable. The crown prince is called a “man,” but he was born in the same year as Eleven — he was only 17 or 18 years old. And he spent 7 of those years placing all his hope and yearning into those portraits of Eleven, wanting only to see her, to “have” her.
Also, I wonder, why did he choose such a horrible death for Xiao Nanchen Prince? Or was he the one who chose it? Was it his psychological instability, waffling between extreme hate for the man who was about to take “the treasure of his heart” from him and respect for this uncle, who was the only one capable of shouldering the weight of the land, hence his remorse and admission that he had done a wrong against him?
Lastly, just wanted to point out a little observation. The crown prince also tried to recreate Eleven’s paintings, but though he must have studied them, he was not able to capture their essence. While Zhousheng Chen did not completely recreate the mood of Shi Yi’s painting because “the atmosphere of the scene was a reflection of the atmosphere of the heart,” after a single, hurried viewing, according to his mother, it was already 70-80% like the original. Think this translates to something in terms of the fated affinity between them?
1 of 1 Prologue
43 of 56 Main story segments
0 of 3 Epilogues
|
English
|
NL
|
741db48d3307c42b074c09996674de99e79d78217b1a24200d42b0c1e772a256
|
The History of The Cobweb
Serving as an off-licence from the 1700’s The Cobweb Inn bottled its
own beer, wine and spirits and was under the charge of the Customs.
After being unloaded from the ships it was tested for alcoholic strength and customs approval, before being sold to the inns and pubs of Boscastle and surrounding areas.
Boscastle then boasted the number of 22 pubs.
Coal was brought along this path and literally emptied over the cliff into storage at the bottom which is now the garages the custom built wall in on the cliff face can still be seen.
The Cobweb has five floors .The fourth floor at the top was used as
storage and access to ‘Private Road’ as we call it which is a road
which was built to transport goods from the ships to the building and
surrounding areas after a dispute with land owners either side of the
river (as there were no bridges back then).
The first, second floors were used for the storage of imports and exports of wine, beer, sprits, timber iron, manures, corn, hardware, bricks pottery etc. and third floor was used for grain storage and other wares and the original pulley can bee seen outside the large opening on the third floor of the building on the car park side which the goods used to be lowered onto the awaiting wagons below.
The first floor was an office which led onto a bar and through the other side of the wall more storage.
Rumour has it that you have always been able to get a drink in the Cobweb when it was a warehouse as you used to go into the door at the front enter an office order your wares and the pop into the back room which to this day is still a bar our ‘bottom bar and have a drink while you waited for your order to be prepared (the more you ordered the longer you stayed.
After the Ship Inn closed at the end of the first world war its licence was transferred to the now called ‘Launceston Cellar’ the Cobweb where it allowed the purchase of drink for 6 days a week but still not trading as an official public house.
In 1947 finally the ground floor was turned into a bar and became the ‘Cobweb’ getting its name from the cobwebs that hung from the ceiling in a thick black mat. (They had been encouraged by merchants to keep the flies away from the kegs of alcohol).
Boscastle Brass Band has been around from 1876 they used to play for carnivals, fetes and local dances. At the out break of the second world war the band disbanded only to reform after 1945 by several of the villagers with as many of the original instruments that they could gather together as quite a few had ended up at the bottom of Pentargon Cliff which was the village dump. Then in the 50’s and 60’s the Cobweb was the venue for The Boscastle Brass Band to hold there practice secessions. One of the original instruments still hangs in the Cobweb amongst the cobwebs and band music and pictures can be seen on the walls.
In the 1950’s we used to regularly have our piano playing along for the whole pub to sing along to a tradition which is well and truly still alive today. Quite often Cornish songs can be heard echoing through the valley when our local lads are in full swing. Bands still play into the late hours of Saturday nights keeping up a long tradition of music in the CobwebCobwebs still hang today some even dating as far back as the building, but now they are not so prominent, not due to removing them as this is not allowed, but they are now fewer.
|
English
|
NL
|
8927221bdf25d2e077c3d05283a0601ec8ed014818b2d1c38c9dfc773d382a51
|
- Contact Info
Peter & Nancy Ryall
We both grew up in mainline Christian congregations. For many years, it did not occur that there was anything more for us than familiar rituals and traditions. We knew about God, but we didn’t know Him personally. Once we had a personal relationship with God, we understood that we could not only talk to Him, but that He communicates with each of His children. We discovered God has plans for each of us. As we listened for His guidance in our lives, we found ourselves leaving the security of church traditions to discover some major concepts and truths that were missing. Since we have embarked on this journey of following Father’s lead, our relationship with God and with others has been greatly enriched.
The revelation of each new truth has enriched our understanding of God and ourselves. Our sense of purpose has blossomed. We are more confident as we follow His will for us. We know and trust God much more than we did in the past.
Risks, uncertainties, and even persecution have accompanied us as we follow our Shepherd into new territory. We have sacrificed on the altar many treasured but mistaken beliefs and customs. Each time we have to make a choice about which is more important: God’s will for us or our sense of security in the familiar.
|
English
|
NL
|
db8f14328495fa7b337578e4a914330eb97e254fc4f72c3f68b8cc81c655cc12
|
The series of pastels titled Twenty-four Hours with the Herd depicts an iconic Texas scene: the cattle drive. Artist Frank Reaugh completed the series in the 1930s, but they portray an earlier chapter of Texas history, when fences had not yet crossed the landscape, and men and cattle moved freely on the open range. Born in Illinois in 1860, Reaugh moved to Texas when he was fifteen. His family grew cotton, but young Reaugh was interested in art and nature, and divided his time between the family farm and studying art in St. Louis and Paris. Reaugh soon gained a reputation for his luminous and impressionistic landscapes. Several were exhibited at the World's Fairs of 1893 and 1904. Another favorite subject was the Texas longhorn, which he studied carefully while following the herds along the Red, Wichita, and Brazos Rivers. His most famous works feature this emblem of the state in its natural habitat, the Texas plains. Known as the "dean of Texas artists," Reaugh was also a popular art instructor. He founded the Dallas School of Fine Arts and often led students on sketching trips throughout his beloved Southwest. A master of color, shading, and detail, Frank Reaugh recorded what he called "the broad opalescent prairies" as he saw them more than a century ago. His works are on view at the Texas Capitol and museums around the state.
|
English
|
NL
|
7a3d8d2f39af4dfddeac0355489d422c4f80fb039e0d015394e98357f205a0f4
|
Andy had been a long time member at Holy Spirit Anglican Church. He was active in fellowship and worship. Several years ago he encountered a number of setbacks including: knee replacement surgery, arthritis, and additional strongholds that held him in bondage. A result was that Andy was no longer in relationship with the Body of Christ and was trying to live independently with the Lord alone. Soon he was no longer reading scripture and worshiping in song with his guitar
This past Thanksgiving, as we were giving out Thanksgiving baskets to those in special need, Andy was called to see if we could stop by to see him and bring over a Thanksgiving basket. Andy, with excitement, invited us to visit him. As we entered Andy’s home there was a joy in the reconnecting of relationships. Andy was blessed that he was not forgotten. It was a revelation that God had not forgotten or turned His back on Andy. That night we shared the Lord, prayed and worshipped. The Lord rebuilt a bridge between Andy and Himself. A bridge was also rebuilt between Andy and Christ’s Body, the Church. Andy’s love for Christ, worshipping with his guitar and reading scripture returned. Since that night in November, Andy has returned to worship and fellowship with the church. He once again reflects the love, joy and transforming power of Christ as he worships, ministers and shares his testimony. It is never too late to come home to Christ and His Body.
|
English
|
NL
|
b350e6e5b33106f90001054da072ba3c9edffb908d208f7e802f5d3bb4d32f77
|
A friend has decided to write a book. He has never written a book before and he is excited. But, he confessed over a cup of cactus tea, he is also nervous. He has decided to write every day so that he gets into the habit of writing. If he gets into the habit of writing, he feels he will eventually finish his book.
Very true. This elf has a good idea.
He told me more about the idea, a bargain that he has made with himself. If he writes every day, without fail, he is willing to let himself have days where he doesn’t write much. These are the details of the bargain…
Every night, before he goes to bed, Carble the elf pulls out his journal and writes something. Sometimes he writes several paragraphs, or a list of notes. Sometimes, however, he feels sleepy, and he just wants drift off to dream. On those nights, Carble allows himself to write a tiny sentence such as “He tripped.” And that is all.
What a fantastic strategy! This elf is still living up to the deal he made with himself. He is writing every day! But, he is letting himself have days where only a short sentence gets added. Don’t forget, stories actually need short sentences! These sentences have great value, too! If you think of writing like music, a short sentence sounds different from a long sentence, but in a pleasant way.
|
English
|
NL
|
26f7fd8b8fe8f1cf4f3ee582b407da841af379ca39bbdeaa74eda304beeb6b55
|
Eric Veillé has written and illustrated more than 20 books, and is known for his wit and subversive comedy. He was born in 1976 in Laval and studied at the Duperré School in Paris. While working as an artistic director in publishing, he decided one spring day to devote himself to writing and children’s book illustration.
Eric Veillé at DWRF 2019
Villains & Grannies
|
English
|
NL
|
d8e7f270b14dd947dde75d99f17f95e662f5fc5b9878d4a623ebd6c1b9eb4c3d
|
The Many Faces of Jack Prelutsky
Reflecting upon his school days when poetry was "the literary equivalent of spinach. We were told poetry was good for us, but most of us enjoyed it as much as taking out the garbage." Jack Prelutsky
Living in a Bronx neighborhood all the children used to think poets had to be either boring, a sissy or dead. "The ideal poet would be a boring dead sissy." Jack Prelutsky
"There was a time when I couldn't stand poetry!" Jack Pretlusky
When speaking of an old teacher, he said "She didn't like poetry, but once a week she had to recite it. She'd take a boring book off a boring shelf. She'd turn to a boring page, recite a boring poem and be bored while doing it."
"It wasn't until later that I realized poetry was a means of communication, that could be exciting or as boring as that person or that experience." Jack Prelutsky
"He rediscovered poetry in his twenties, and he decided that he would write about things he really cared about, and that he would strive to make poetry delightful."
|
English
|
NL
|
47d0472155e73d8c618589af2fed005ad89480b0bda4981924ecf2635cb1af6d
|
An indispensable part of the Chinese culture is martial arts. Chinese martial arts, also known as Wu Shu and Kung Fu, include hundreds of fighting styles. Each of them were inspired by different Chinese religions, philosophies, and legends.
The Hui family, which is the Chinese Muslim ethnic group, got inspired by the tradition of Prophet Muhammad (sa) in which he said: “The strong man is not the good wrestler; the strong man is only the one who controls himself when he is angry.” (Bukhari and Muslim)
The Hui members were encouraged to create a fusion between the Islamic belief and the Chinese tradition, the Hui martial arts. Here are two examples of Hui grandmasters.
Ma Xianda was born in 1932 and belongs to the sixth generation of a prominent Hui family of martial artists and to a handful masters that has reached the highest level in Chinese martial arts, that is the 9th Duan. He was one of the first and youngest at the time to receive this rank. His father and uncle started to train him at the age of five. Grandmaster Ma learned many traditional Wu Shu styles and studied boxing, Mongolian wrestling (Shuaj Jian) and fencing.
To read the rest and more, subscribe to hibakidz
|
English
|
NL
|
6f0c1abcaebee945008daf7d5f028f8b2bd997ecc96ed4004321894db6f25044
|
A WITLESS ALADDIN--THE GATE TO THE WORLD
In the course of his present stay in Chicago, Drouet paid some slight attention to the secret order to which he belonged. During his last trip he had received a new light on its importance.
"I tell you," said another drummer to him, "it's a great thing. Look at Hazenstab. He isn't so deuced clever. Of course he's got a good house behind him, but that won't do alone. I tell you it's his degree. He's a way-up Mason, and that goes a long way. He's got a secret sign that stands for something."
Drouet resolved then and there that he would take more interest in such matters. So when he got back to Chicago he repaired to his local lodge headquarters.
"I say, Drouet," said Mr. Harry Quincel, an individual who was very prominent in this local branch of the Elks, "you're the man that can help us out."
It was after the business meeting and things were going socially with a hum. Drouet was bobbing around chatting and joking with a score of individuals whom he knew.
"What are you up to?" he inquired genially, turning a smiling face upon his secret brother.
"We're trying to get up some theatricals for two weeks from to- day, and we want to know if you don't know some young lady who could take a part--it's an easy part."
"Sure," said Drouet, "what is it?" He did not trouble to remember that he knew no one to whom he could appeal on this score. His innate good-nature, however, dictated a favourable reply.
"Well, now, I'll tell you what we are trying to do," went on Mr. Quincel. "We are trying to get a new set of furniture for the lodge. There isn't enough money in the treasury at the present time, and we thought we would raise it by a little entertainment."
"Sure," interrupted Drouet, "that's a good idea."
"Several of the boys around here have got talent. There's Harry Burbeck, he does a fine black-face turn. Mac Lewis is all right at heavy dramatics. Did you ever hear him recite 'Over the Hills'?"
"Well, I tell you, he does it fine."
"And you want me to get some woman to take a part?" questioned Drouet, anxious to terminate the subject and get on to something else. "What are you going to play?"
"'Under the Gaslight,'" said Mr. Quincel, mentioning Augustin Daly's famous production, which had worn from a great public success down to an amateur theatrical favourite, with many of the troublesome accessories cut out and the dramatis personae reduced to the smallest possible number.
Drouet had seen this play some time in the past.
"That's it," he said; "that's a fine play. It will go all right. You ought to make a lot of money out of that."
"We think we'll do very well," Mr. Quincel replied. "Don't you forget now," he concluded, Drouet showing signs of restlessness; "some young woman to take the part of Laura."
"Sure, I'll attend to it."
He moved away, forgetting almost all about it the moment Mr. Quincel had ceased talking. He had not even thought to ask the time or place.
Drouet was reminded of his promise a day or two later by the receipt of a letter announcing that the first rehearsal was set for the following Friday evening, and urging him to kindly forward the young lady's address at once, in order that the part might be delivered to her.
"Now, who the deuce do I know?" asked the drummer reflectively, scratching his rosy ear. "I don't know any one that knows anything about amateur theatricals."
He went over in memory the names of a number of women he knew, and finally fixed on one, largely because of the convenient location of her home on the West Side, and promised himself that as he came out that evening he would see her. When, however, he started west on the car he forgot, and was only reminded of his delinquency by an item in the "Evening News"--a small three-line affair under the head of Secret Society Notes--which stated the Custer Lodge of the Order of Elks would give a theatrical performance in Avery Hall on the 16th, when "Under the Gaslight" would be produced.
"George!" exclaimed Drouet, "I forgot that."
"What?" inquired Carrie.
They were at their little table in the room which might have been used for a kitchen, where Carrie occasionally served a meal. To- night the fancy had caught her, and the little table was spread with a pleasing repast.
"Why, my lodge entertainment. They're going to give a play, and they wanted me to get them some young lady to take a part."
"What is it they're going to play?"
"'Under the Gaslight.'"
"On the 16th."
"Well, why don't you?" asked Carrie.
"I don't know any one," he replied.
Suddenly he looked up.
"Say," he said, "how would you like to take the part?"
"Me?" said Carrie. "I can't act."
"How do you know?" questioned Drouet reflectively.
"Because," answered Carrie, "I never did."
Nevertheless, she was pleased to think he would ask. Her eyes brightened, for if there was anything that enlisted her sympathies it was the art of the stage. True to his nature, Drouet clung to this idea as an easy way out.
"That's nothing. You can act all you have to down there."
"No, I can't," said Carrie weakly, very much drawn toward the proposition and yet fearful.
"Yes, you can. Now, why don't you do it? They need some one, and it will be lots of fun for you."
"Oh, no, it won't," said Carrie seriously.
"You'd like that. I know you would. I've seen you dancing around here and giving imitations and that's why I asked you. You're clever enough, all right."
"No, I'm not," said Carrie shyly.
"Now, I'll tell you what you do. You go down and see about it. It'll be fun for you. The rest of the company isn't going to be any good. They haven't any experience. What do they know about theatricals?"
He frowned as he thought of their ignorance.
"Hand me the coffee," he added.
"I don't believe I could act, Charlie," Carrie went on pettishly. "You don't think I could, do you?"
"Sure. Out o' sight. I bet you make a hit. Now you want to go, I know you do. I knew it when I came home. That's why I asked you."
"What is the play, did you say?"
"'Under the Gaslight.'"
"What part would they want me to take?"
"Oh, one of the heroines--I don't know."
"What sort of a play is it?"
"Well," said Drouet, whose memory for such things was not the best, "it's about a girl who gets kidnapped by a couple of crooks--a man and a woman that live in the slums. She had some money or something and they wanted to get it. I don't know now how it did go exactly."
"Don't you know what part I would have to take?"
"No, I don't, to tell the truth." He thought a moment. "Yes, I do, too. Laura, that's the thing--you're to be Laura."
"And you can't remember what the part is like?"
"To save me, Cad, I can't," he answered. "I ought to, too; I've seen the play enough. There's a girl in it that was stolen when she was an infant--was picked off the street or something--and she's the one that's hounded by the two old criminals I was telling you about." He stopped with a mouthful of pie poised on a fork before his face. "She comes very near getting drowned--no, that's not it. I'll tell you what I'll do," he concluded hopelessly, "I'll get you the book. I can't remember now for the life of me."
"Well, I don't know," said Carrie, when he had concluded, her interest and desire to shine dramatically struggling with her timidity for the mastery. "I might go if you thought I'd do all right."
"Of course, you'll do," said Drouet, who, in his efforts to enthuse Carrie, had interested himself. "Do you think I'd come home here and urge you to do something that I didn't think you would make a success of? You can act all right. It'll be good for you."
"When must I go?" said Carrie, reflectively.
"The first rehearsal is Friday night. I'll get the part for you to-night."
"All right," said Carrie resignedly, "I'll do it, but if I make a failure now it's your fault."
"You won't fail," assured Drouet. "Just act as you do around here. Be natural. You're all right. I've often thought you'd make a corking good actress."
"Did you really?" asked Carrie.
"That's right," said the drummer.
He little knew as he went out of the door that night what a secret flame he had kindled in the bosom of the girl he left behind. Carrie was possessed of that sympathetic, impressionable nature which, ever in the most developed form, has been the glory of the drama. She was created with that passivity of soul which is always the mirror of the active world. She possessed an innate taste for imitation and no small ability. Even without practice, she could sometimes restore dramatic situations she had witnessed by re-creating, before her mirror, the expressions of the various faces taking part in the scene. She loved to modulate her voice after the conventional manner of the distressed heroine, and repeat such pathetic fragments as appealed most to her sympathies. Of late, seeing the airy grace of the ingenue in several well-constructed plays, she had been moved to secretly imitate it, and many were the little movements and expressions of the body in which she indulged from time to time in the privacy of her chamber. On several occasions, when Drouet had caught her admiring herself, as he imagined, in the mirror, she was doing nothing more than recalling some little grace of the mouth or the eyes which she had witnessed in another. Under his airy accusation she mistook this for vanity and accepted the blame with a faint sense of error, though, as a matter of fact, it was nothing more than the first subtle outcroppings of an artistic nature, endeavouring to re-create the perfect likeness of some phase of beauty which appealed to her. In such feeble tendencies, be it known, such outworking of desire to reproduce life, lies the basis of all dramatic art.
Now, when Carrie heard Drouet's laudatory opinion of her dramatic ability, her body tingled with satisfaction. Like the flame which welds the loosened particles into a solid mass, his words united those floating wisps of feeling which she had felt, but never believed, concerning her possible ability, and made them into a gaudy shred of hope. Like all human beings, she had a touch of vanity. She felt that she could do things if she only had a chance. How often had she looked at the well-dressed actresses on the stage and wondered how she would look, how delightful she would feel if only she were in their place. The glamour, the tense situation, the fine clothes, the applause, these had lured her until she felt that she, too, could act--that she, too, could compel acknowledgment of power. Now she was told that she really could--that little things she had done about the house had made even him feel her power. It was a delightful sensation while it lasted.
When Drouet was gone, she sat down in her rocking-chair by the window to think about it. As usual, imagination exaggerated the possibilities for her. It was as if he had put fifty cents in her hand and she had exercised the thoughts of a thousand dollars. She saw herself in a score of pathetic situations in which she assumed a tremulous voice and suffering manner. Her mind delighted itself with scenes of luxury and refinement, situations in which she was the cynosure of all eyes, the arbiter of all fates. As she rocked to and fro she felt the tensity of woe in abandonment, the magnificence of wrath after deception, the languour of sorrow after defeat. Thoughts of all the charming women she had seen in plays--every fancy, every illusion which she had concerning the stage--now came back as a returning tide after the ebb. She built up feelings and a determination which the occasion did not warrant.
Drouet dropped in at the lodge when he went down town, and swashed around with a great AIR, as Quincel met him.
"Where is that young lady you were going to get for us?" asked the latter.
"I've got her," said Drouet.
"Have you?" said Quincel, rather surprised by his promptness; "that's good. What's her address?" and he pulled out his notebook in order to be able to send her part to her.
"You want to send her her part?" asked the drummer.
"Well, I'll take it. I'm going right by her house in the morning.
"What did you say her address was? We only want it in case we have any information to send her."
"Twenty-nine Ogden Place."
"And her name?"
"Carrie Madenda," said the drummer, firing at random. The lodge members knew him to be single.
"That sounds like somebody that can act, doesn't it?" said Quincel.
"Yes, it does."
He took the part home to Carrie and handed it to her with the manner of one who does a favour.
"He says that's the best part. Do you think you can do it?"
"I don't know until I look it over. You know I'm afraid, now that I've said I would."
"Oh, go on. What have you got to be afraid of? It's a cheap company. The rest of them aren't as good as you are."
"Well, I'll see," said Carrie, pleased to have the part, for all her misgivings.
He sidled around, dressing and fidgeting before he arranged to make his next remark.
"They were getting ready to print the programmes," he said, "and I gave them the name of Carrie Madenda. Was that all right?"
"Yes, I guess so," said his companion, looking up at him. She was thinking it was slightly strange.
"If you didn't make a hit, you know," he went on.
"Oh, yes," she answered, rather pleased now with his caution. It was clever for Drouet.
"I didn't want to introduce you as my wife, because you'd feel worse then if you didn't GO. They all know me so well. But you'll GO all right. Anyhow, you'll probably never meet any of them again."
"Oh, I don't care," said Carrie desperately. She was determined now to have a try at the fascinating game.
Drouet breathed a sigh of relief. He had been afraid that he was about to precipitate another conversation upon the marriage question.
The part of Laura, as Carrie found out when she began to examine it, was one of suffering and tears. As delineated by Mr. Daly, it was true to the most sacred traditions of melodrama as he found it when he began his career. The sorrowful demeanour, the tremolo music, the long, explanatory, cumulative addresses, all were there.
"Poor fellow," read Carrie, consulting the text and drawing her voice out pathetically. "Martin, be sure and give him a glass of wine before he goes."
She was surprised at the briefness of the entire part, not knowing that she must be on the stage while others were talking, and not only be there, but also keep herself in harmony with the dramatic movement of the scenes.
"I think I can do that, though," she concluded.
When Drouet came the next night, she was very much satisfied with her day's study.
"Well, how goes it, Caddie?" he said.
"All right," she laughed. "I think I have it memorised nearly."
"That's good," he said. "Let's hear some of it."
"Oh, I don't know whether I can get up and say it off here," she said bashfully.
"Well, I don't know why you shouldn't. It'll be easier here than it will there."
"I don't know about that," she answered. Eventually she took off the ballroom episode with considerable feeling, forgetting, as she got deeper in the scene, all about Drouet, and letting herself rise to a fine state of feeling.
"Good," said Drouet; "fine, out o' sight! You're all right Caddie, I tell you."
He was really moved by her excellent representation and the general appearance of the pathetic little figure as it swayed and finally fainted to the floor. He had bounded up to catch her, and now held her laughing in his arms.
"Ain't you afraid you'll hurt yourself?" he asked.
"Not a bit."
"Well, you're a wonder. Say, I never knew you could do anything like that."
"I never did, either," said Carrie merrily, her face flushed with delight.
"Well, you can bet that you're all right," said Drouet. "You can take my word for that. You won't fail."
|
English
|
NL
|
a8ff3ae9b949d23d11b26740c5660fbe1391819f081ea97e114f55c8cb3b5787
|
Subsets and Splits
No community queries yet
The top public SQL queries from the community will appear here once available.