text:
Submission details
sofos1990`s XTU score - Elite League
4840 marks with Intel Core i9 7960X at 5750MHz
Ranking position
WR Rank:
38th out of 89475
Global 16x CPU rank:
9th out of 247
Core i9 7960X rank:
9th out of 64
Points earned for overclocker league
World Record Points
Global Points
9th using 16 CPU
Hardware Points
9th using Core i9 7960X
Points earned for team league
Global Team Power Points (GTPP) 7th in team using 16 CPU
32.3 Points
Hardware Team Power Points (HTPP) 7th in team using Core i9 7960X
5.1 Points
Media gallery
- BIOS/UEFI Settings Analyze Share XTU settings XTU hardware
Hardware details
CPU details
- Model: Intel Core i9 7960X 'Skylake-X'
- Cooling: Liquid Nitrogen
- Speed: 5,750MHz (+105.36%)
VGA details
- Speed: MHz / MHz (Stock)
Mainboard details
- Manufacturer: GIGABYTE
- Model: X299 SOC Champion
- Chipset: X299
Disk details
- Capacity: 120GB (IDE)
- Series: Neutron GTX SSD
Power details
- Manufacturer: Corsair
- Series: Professional Series Gold
- Power: 1,500 Watt
Recent Comments
sofos1990 commented on his own score:
Bad efficiency for now.
Gawl86 says:
Wow Man!!!
Wow Man!!!
caramba1 says:
soldered or not( ?
soldered or not( ?
amirhosein says:
Wow!comon man give some space to others
Wow!comon man give some space to others
Dinos22 says:
destroyed it
destroyed it
STORM1978 says:
Well done my fellow Teamate!
Well done my fellow Teamate!
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Περιγραφή Θέσης
Working together to develop future IT solutions for tomorrow's businesses : that's our goal, along with our colleagues worldwide.
Thanks to our innovative Technology services and solutions, we proudly lead our clients into the future. As part of our IT Advisory, we offer technology implementation proficiency and advice to world-leading clients.
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subset: commoncrawl


text:
or make 4 interest-free payments of
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The sort of trunk you want to fill with a 35mm camera, a day dress, and a pair of loafers and head off on a steam train for a new adventure. The Toaty Trunk is a vintage-inspired bag that is truly versatile, whether used for storage, toys, dress-ups, keepsakes, craft-supplies, a picnic basket or even a little weekender - we love this trunk and imagine it to be an heirloom piece in your family, for years and years to come.
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text:
Vision Ears VE3 Demo (SS15)
This listed unit is a custom. Reshell is required. Reshell fee is included in the listed pricing. Walk in only.
Round and analytic sound-signature.
Warm, detailed mids
Unexcited reproduction of bass
The VE3 are equipped with two-way-System with three drivers.
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Input Sensitivity: 118dB SPL at 1 mW
Impedance: 18 Ohms
30 days refit if feel not comfortable upon received.


text:
Sunday, September 20, 2009
35 degrees!
Seems a little early in the year for 35 degrees. I was just outside and it is FROSTY!
Anyway, yesteday was an arty day. I won 3 paintings fom Stacey, and aren't they wicked cute? They shall go above the counter. As you see, to the left of the toaster. You see a pic like that and realize you outta scrub the wall a bit before nailing up the fine art....
AND we went down to the Kitschen Sink gallery with a load of my pieces...what a wacky store....and finally I was making a covered dish and figurred I would probably put a bird atop the knob and it was outside drying in the sun, and I wish I had gotten a photo, but a bird landed on it for real!
Posted by Gary's third pottery blog at 6:40 AM
2 comments:
- Unknown said...
That is some cute kitchen art you won, what a cool shop that is, looks like it would be a great place to visit.
Love the bird pot, is is a crow?!
- September 20, 2009 at 12:43 PM
- Lynda said...
Wow! Love the bird on the covered dish...a LOT
- September 21, 2009 at 1:03 PM
Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)


text:
Day 205, June 11, 2012: It was VBS week this week. Eric spent the mornings helping in the rec department–playing games with all the kids.
Day 206: Janelle was in the skits for VBS. She played Mabel Magoo, and 80 year old lady who loved to ride roller coasters.
Day 207: One of my favorite photos from the week. Janelle and her friends at VBS.


text:
Respondent Erik Brunetti sought federal registration of the trademark FUCT. The Patent and Trademark Office (PTO) denied his application under a provision of federal law that prohibits registration of trademarks that "[c]onsist[ ] of or comprise[ ] immoral[ ] or scandalous matter," 15 U.S.C. §1052(a). Brunetti brought a First Amendment challenge to the "immoral or scandalous" bar.
Our amicus brief to the Supreme Court supported his view, which is that the government can't use its intellectual property registration system to disfavor certain ideas. (We took the same position, and were also successful, two years ago in Matal v. Tam [link here], the case about the band "The Slants," and the prohibition on "disparaging" trademarks.)
In June 2019, the Court held, consistent with our position, that the "immoral or scandalous" bar similarly discriminates on the basis of viewpoint. It permits registration of marks when their messages accord with, but not when their messages defy, society's sense of decency or propriety. This viewpoint bias in the law results in viewpoint-discriminatory application. The PTO has refused to register marks communicating "immoral" or "scandalous" views about (among other things) drug use, religion, and terrorism. But all the while, it has approved registration of marks expressing more accepted views on the same topics. Choosing favored viewpoints is impermissible under the First Amendment.


text:
Chapter- 4
The Mayor Parleys With The Grand Mufti-
The Mayor and Prince compare notes and Al-Wa'sik offers freedom on condition.
Prince Al- Wa'sik (meaning Terrible Eyes) was the grand mufti of the Turks. Never was he known to have laughed. He had always known that he was different from others. When he got angry he wore flaming red, which to any Turk meant bad news. It meant that some one would have to pay the price.
"Head will roll!" It was the case so far. Because of it he was also called Kismet or Fate.
On that day in April he discovered he could laugh. It was priceless. The discovery made him very happy. It had taken some forty years and the prince could not believe it would have come as it did, far away from home and in one of the strangest places. Laughter was not what his father the most dazzling figure of his age could give him. Having learnt many things from the sultan, of which duty was preeminent, he had kept going never realizing he lost what was of necessity a precious gift.
As a young prince he did not laugh; neither did he let himself go. Why? He did not like being thought as irresponsible. He had cultivated gravity, which he had been told by the so called wise men of his age, as appropriate for the movers and shakers of the world.
His tutor let him mix with other children of princely blood. They helped him hone up his skills in hunting and riding. Laughter wasn't one quality, which they cultivated. ( Isn't laughter at the right time and in right places sure sign of humanity in its pure form? In that spontaneity it seems to tell all,'Here I am with all defenses down!) The princes took themselves seriously. So did Al-Wa'sik.
So seriously the prince took himself that others for fear of displeasure could not have done otherwise. Had anyone in his suite was in the middle of telling a joke he would have instantly killed it hearing his master's foot steps. The prince allowed people come to him with their problems and they never laughed to show how he had relieved their distress. His seriousness must have given warning signal to all: "I am Terrible Eyes! Laugh at your own risk!"
In the process what had he become but a human machine to which men in fear paid their respects?
It took a scrappy but lively human being who was in no way his equal in form, advantages or in rank to undo the damage. That day he laughed hard before he could realize what had come over him. In the end he had to agree it was very pleasant.
So naturally he esteemed Calisthenics highly as someone special.
After having spent some time alone disposing of many supplicants and writing orders the prince whispered to his bodyguards to call the mayor. During their first round each wanted to know the other. So they chatted this and that. When it was time for his evening prayer he excused himself. Before parting the grand mufti asked," What makes a smile the same as a tear?" " By facing up to it, of course." the mayor replied with a laugh.
The next day the prince received the mayor and he was seated in a princely tent erected on the beach. Above the tent flew the prince's personal standard and around the tent were many janissaries who watched the crowd with suspicion. The grand mufti was still friendly and said," As a mayor what sort of problems do you face?"
"People are fine O grand Turk. It is just what they have to put up with is the problem. We are called the Sleepy Heads. Do I look sleepy?" The mayor asked. " No, not by any means." The prince said with a polite emphasis. "Do you know another joke?" the host asked eagerly.
"O Prince why does a peanut come in a pod?" The grand mufti thought for a while and gave up. "You tell me." The mayor replied, "Because there are too many nuts jumping the queue." The Turk laughed. 'You know what makes a Turk tick?' the mayor asked. The prince waited eagerly for a surprise. "Because he is Turkeyed up!"
In the meantime the admiral came in with letters of request from various officials.
The mayor took care not to distract Prince Al- Wa'sik while he worked. He could see so many people with different insignias were cooling their heels to have a moment to speak their cases. Having disposed of the letters the prince stroked his beard, which was neatly trimmed and he turned towards him. His face showed a touch of regret as if he could not call that moment as his own. The mayor was about to rise up and go but he restrained him. 'This shalln't take much time', he seemed to say. He beckoned his personal secretary to let the people come one after the other. Calisthenics had a new respect at the way he disposed them. A look said volumes; a gesture in place of so many words saved him time and effort; it put one in a dither and another cheery eyed. Where comfort or encouragement merited the prince spoke softly and as the mayor could hear, his voice acquired a peculiar timbre. His authority expressed with his proud gaze combined with such clear-cut enunciation of syllables so softly spoken was unmistakable. In him was power and gentleness. Even while walking tightrope between duty and mercy neither did betray the other. He had learnt how to perform as a prince who must at all times be just.
Each went off kissing his hand as if he were a holy relic. After he had sent the last man he turned to his guest and the seriousness, which had made his sharp features points of steel gave way to ease. His eyes seemed to say,"Where were we?"
Mayor Calisthenics began. He spoke concisely the history and cultural traditions, which he said if he should write it all down it could be done in one sitting. " But the Sleepy Heads are known for breaking all such classifications. We have a saying among us, which goes thus:' In a world of right-handed traditions we are left handed.' Even there they do not strictly adhere to the rule."
"Really?" the prince could not imagine such a lawless society did really exist." If the Sleepy Heads hate to work with me or my council it is the tradition of the ruling class to make the work simplified in a manner the people can understand."
"Must you descend to their level?"
"Yes," the mayor replied seriously," I am sent to bring order among the Sleepy Heads. Imposing it from the top I think is not a permanent solution."
The prince was sure an iron fist would make order among the lawless at which the mayor showed in mock-seriousness his agreement. "Only that my Venetian Masters themselves are losing their grip. What avails me then to mould the Sleepy Heads according to their ideals once power itself has changed hands?" After a pause he added," People friendly that is how the ruling class should be."
"So easily you give in to the mob?"
"No, not at all."the mayor was sure,"I can only work as one who respect the people who are governed. I govern better, so it seems to me, O prince, by turning their natural inclinations into something worthwhile. A catalyst perhaps."
He defended his people by saying they were yet to divide people according to haves and have-nots."He paused and the prince was impassive. "Yes it would seem so, we are backward not to let the things rule us." the mayor added.
"So the Sleepy Heads do not put things above the people?" Calisthenics nodded and said,"People come first. Always!"
"You rule and your power.."
The mayor replied," Our power is good up to a point. With such power as I have to hurt, will the ruled trust me freely?"
"But should you not correct those over whom you have authority by setting a good example?" "If I set an example to the one lower in rank all that benefits me would be his ill will. Who knows he may complain to the king that I am itching to stand in his shoes. Or some other report to damn me." "Come, come you are being cynical!" the prince said. "I said from what human nature is capable of,"replied Calisthenics simply, "I am only human, I am only a Sleepy Head' as our prayer to the Great One goes."
"I can appreciate you to some extent. But being good… " "Good in some parts and spoilt in some others ,sir. None of us are perfect. You shall not convince me, prince that you are perfect."
The prince solemnly admitted he was far from perfect. 'O Allah kerim!' and he was quick to add, " I will not think of using my power for any thing other than to correct…"
"By correcting do we change their basic nature or by arm-twisting do we achieve lasting results?" replied the mayor. The prince was deep in thought. Calisthenics asked," What makes you think you know better how a matter leads to? Did not your prophet, as you believe the truth is, speak the last word on the subject?"
" Yes Truth,"the grand mufti said reverentially, "Nabi-mursil (Prophet-apostle) spoke the truth."
"You revere his message. Don't you? If that be the case why Shi'ites or Sunnis?" The prince suddenly stiffened. " Surely we can keep the matters of religion out of our discussion?" The mayor bowed and he soft-pedaled to say, "Merely because I have the power, would it mean I can see the outcome of things better? Or what I say to be the truth will be the last word on it? You may win an argument at the sword point and make the 'infidel' retract his stand. He who so retracts does only because he sees some perceived advantages. He is only human."
"You may see it well, O prince," the mayor explained, "from the manner a thing is done." The prince heard him seriously. "You may teach your camel to carry you but he must stop whenever he has come to end of his tether. No amount of your truth or words of wisdom shall suit him if his legs are too tired."
"So human weakness in the end dictate truth?"
"Not really,"Calisthenics replied,"the one who dictate what is the truth is as human as the one who must show what it is to be true."
"Whom I rule have their own viewpoint as we who make rules," the prince said,"is it what you wanted to say?" The mayor nodded and explained by letting the people decide how they wish to be led 'makes my office easier and leaves me enough time for my own
things.' The prince frowned at times but he listened to him without interruption.
Somewhere along the line the topic about the Great One came up. Immediately the face of the prince lit up," We have something common there. Allah the compassionate, Merciful and Just!" The grand mufti spoke the name reverentially and with great wonder. "But I was given to understand we should keep religion out of our discussion?" Calisthenics asked with a mischievous glint in his eye. "Yes,"the grand mufti said, "My fault. I forgot myself for a moment." "No, "replied the mayor,"Belief is so essential part of our nature. As easy as we walk. Do we ever wonder if our legs are adequate enough? No, faith is sufficient. If we did not think our legs would hold up would we walk? It is faith."It surprised the prince. "That faith which we possess sometimes makes us just as you admitted a moment ago, forget ourselves. We are, as I said earlier, humans and imperfect too."
"That is why Allah has kept the paradise for those who trust in his mercy and do good." Al-Wa'sik declared. "Paradise is an idea." The mayor replied,"We have to think of what is so basic, in
terms of ideas. Whereas my dog will approach the same differently."
"Why bring a dog into discussion?" the prince snapped with a frown,"so many other examples would have equally fitted." Calisthenics excused and said he had a dog which he considered was his trustworthy companion. "I did not know it was a contemptible animal according to your beliefs."
"Where were we?"the mayor asked and he got back where he had been diverted," We make sense of our world in terms of ideas. If I do hold an idea others will also be at liberty to hold their ideas and of course some may hedge it with some special meanings."
"Touché." The prince said with a smile and added,
"Yes we are ready to fight for our faith and guard it with our lives." "Yes, your standpoint is different from mine. As different as your paradise." the mayor observed.
"Still such a vast difference? How is that possible? " Calisthenics had thought on such things and he explained, "If we believe we live on solid ground it shall lead us to an idea so we may make our house also permanent. Another who loves a life of the open spaces may only want to spend the night under a tree or snuggle into a cave and move on with the first light. My brother is a nomad whereas I love a laid-back and sheltered life style. If my brother cultivate a life devoid of all luxuries and I a sybarite, O prince our standpoint is yet again the cause. Each of us with each day, from cradle to grave, merely adds to that essential self. O prince!"
"Do not feel shocked. O prince," the mayor said.
"God is in the laws of Nature and in everything which serve a purpose. As proper for imperfect beings we are, we see Him as some one to serve our purpose. The Great One!"
The grand mufti imperiously waved his hand to desist the mayor from saying something awful. The guest took the hint and said, "In our respect and our love for one another we may still prove all such ideas as coming from one source."
The prince asked," The Great One?" The mayor nodded,"Or Allah, since we are calling names!"
"Love and other romantic notions serve for a brief wink of time,"the prince commented,"where shall you be hereafter?" "You talk of paradise as if it is not yet come. We believe in the present."
"We Sleepy Heads live for the day,"Calisthenics added," and we fear neither man nor their rank. For all that we do not consider ourselves as perfect or good. They pray to The Great One. So what? They pray for gifts. I expect their asking for gifts is not for improving their lot but merely a childlike curiosity. They seem to tell the Great One, 'Surprise me!' The gifts are for the present and not for hereafter as you believe." Al-Wa'sik heard him out patiently.
They talked of this and that. Calisthenics explained they had come to adopt customs on from hearsay. The mayor spoke about Santa Claus and of Sandman who came nightly to give them sound sleep and the prince thought were old wives tales. The mayor quoted Doctor Jerry Can who the prince thought was a dunce beyond belief.
Dismissing what the mayor said as something of a joke he could not understand, he moved to other things. At the end of their meeting he asked the mayor, "You shall dine with me tomorrow?"
At this point the mayor could hear a low roar, which came in waves from outside. It sounded as if people were all shouting and screaming. The grand mufti heard it too. He clapped once. A guard came to whom he spoke in whispers. After a while the same guard returned and spoke in whispers.
After he was dismissed the Turk laughed. " Do we look like angels sent by Santa Claus whoever he is?" Calisthenics explained, " Pardon me. Santa Claus is what we call our Great One. It is what our Doctor Jerry Can swears by."
" Outside your people are getting very restless. They want gifts." The grand mufti said. "If Santa is an angel and one of them happens to take your shape I could believe in Santa as I believe in you." the mayor answered. "Funny you believe in angels bearing gifts? And you expect me to give them gifts!" The Turk exclaimed.
"So what you propose to do?"
Calisthenics knew that the Turk had friendly feelings towards him. So he dared to ask him questions as if he were his equal. " You, my friend tell me. What sort of gifts you want some cash, clothes or freedom?" "Freedom of course " the mayor replied.
" You made an excellent choice." The Turk said," But no one is going to hand it over to you in a platter." The mayor nodded.
"I shall make it easier for you. Prove me your way of life has something good." " That is easy." Replied the mayor, " There was nothing to laugh for with your way of life. Was there?" The prince gravely nodded. " The fact that you could laugh now proves the point." After a pause Al- Wa'sik said, " Perhaps you are right. I shall make my intentions clear."
Prince Terrible Eyes wrote an order and folded it many times till it was no wider than an inch. Having folded it crosswise he sealed where the edges met. While the red wax was hot he pressed his signet ring. He instantly brought his guard to whom he commanded," Here take this to the admiral." "Hearing and obeying!" the guard went off quickly. The prince had let word around that the Sleepy Heads were under his personal protection.
That night the mayor on reaching home asked his son if he knew two boys of 14 with strange accents. "One is called Rufus and the other a twelve year old, Nevis is his name." His son replied they were as mysterious as the west wind. After a pause Maxim who was his firstborn wanted to know what was the matter with them. The father with a chuckle answered," My lips are sealed. Act of Official Secrets and all that."
He knew his son knew much more than he was willing to tell. So he played dumb in his turn. Like son, like father.
(To Be Cont'd)


text:
» Friday, September 25, 2009
Chief Executive of the APA
The Prime Minister s Spokesman (PMS) began by saying that today s appointment of Stephan Wilcke as the Chief Executive of the Asset Protection Agency was an important milestone in the implementation of the protection scheme, which was a central part of the Government s efforts to stabilise the financial sector and to promote the flow of credit in the economy.
Briefing took place at 11:00 | Search for related news
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The 317th Platoon
In Pierre Schoendoerffer's film adaptation of his own well-regarded novel — shot by the great Raoul Coutard — a platoon of French soldiers and Laotian allies fight their way through enemy territory and dense jungle to meet up with their compatriots as the Indochina War grinds to a halt. The New York Times hails "The 317th Platoon" as "a genuinely revelatory war movie," describing it as "a staggeringly engrossing and effective movie, its settings both beautiful and oppressive, its incidents tense and eye-opening."
The Guardian's Antony Beever boldly declares: "In my view, the greatest war movie ever made is 'The 317th Platoon.' This was the original 'platoon movie,' whose format later directors followed but failed to match in its portrayal of characters and their interaction, to say nothing of the moral choices and the corruption of combat." Director Bertrand Tavernier writes: "'The 317th Platoon' is a masterpiece. It's raw, real, gripping, laconic. Schoendoerffer caught, with the help of Raoul Coutard, the essence of this colonial war without being patronizing." And no less of an authority than Oliver Stone asserts that "The 317th Platoon" and Schoendoerffer's documentary "The Anderson Platoon" remain the only films that "seem to me to give a realistic image of the war in Indochina."
With an introduction and post-film discussion by Joshua Ray, film critic for Cinema St. Louis' The Lens.
Ann Repetto


text:
Boss Roommates Play Truth Or Drink And Get Real
Navigating the fine line of living with someone is always going to be a challenge; you are always calculating your responses and actions in order to preserve your roommate's feelings. Well, if you ever want to see that thrown out the window, you should watch this video where roommates play truth or drink. That's right. A no-hold-back game of questions, answers, and alcohol.
This reminded me a lot of the video of couples who have broken up, reuniting to talk about their relationships. The answers got brutally honest —in the best ways. This video combines the high stakes of real people and alcohol, two of my favorite things. As I watched the video I asked myself if I could have been as honest as the participants, given the right circumstances. I'd like to think that I would, but you never know. It's not that easy to tell someone you have to live with and see every day something negative about them. To their face! Which is what makes the video amazing in all the right ways.
No matter where you and your roommate met — whether it's Craigslist, school, Tinder, or by happenstance, this video is for you. Maybe you can grab a bottle of tequila and play this at your house. Don't tweet me if this whole thing goes sour, you did this to yourselves. I think I'll skip that last step and live in blissful ignorance. This video is enough for me. But if you are going to play this at home, get ready to get honest. Below are some things to consider before going on this journey of truth.
1. Get Mentally Ready
Don't expect this to be all fun and games. You will hear things you don't want to hear, and say things your roommate doesn't want you to say. So just be ready for the consequences of brutal honesty. You can always just get drunk instead...
2. Nothing Is Off Limits
Everybody poops. So don't be afraid to tell it like it is. Do not hold back. Also, toilet paper is really a reflection of you so do not buy really crappy see-through toilet paper when I come over. I will judge you.
3. Things Can Get Awkward, Quick
Unless you are using this is a crafty way of finding out if your roommate is a potential sexual partner, do not ask if they are sexually interested in you. It can only get weird.
4. Ask Important Questions
If there has been something on your mind that is weighing heavily, bring it up. I don't care if it's awkward finding out that that sex toy was your roommates. Just ask.
If you want to see the full video, you can do so below. Now go on and play this at home, you silly gooses!
Images: YouTube


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Author: Sarah Title
Title: Kentucky Home
Publisher: eKensington
Publish Date: April 18, 2013
Buy: Amazon
Review Copy Provided By: Net Galley & the publisher
Book Blurb:In this warm and witty new series, author Sarah Title introduces readers to the down home Kentucky hospitality of the Carson family and their Wild Rose Farm and Stables. It's a place where love is always possible—and sweeter than ever the second time around…
Mallory Thompson and Keith Carson are far from impressed with each other when she arrives at his family's horse farm, fleeing an abusive marriage. Mallory sees nothing but a gruff man who's as patronizing as her soon-to-be ex-husband, and Keith has no time for a city girl who's afraid of dogs. But the struggling Wild Rose is too small to allow anyone to keep their distance…
As one by one, Mallory wins the hearts of his family, from his cranky father to his headstrong younger sister and three-legged dog, Keith finds himself more than a little attracted to her stubborn charm. And the longer Mallory stays, the more she realizes Keith is nothing like the overbearing bully she married—and the more she fantasizes about being in his strong, loving arms. Maybe some folks get a second chance to make a first impression after all…
Review: I wanted to like Kentucky Home so much more than I actually did. I found it difficult to connect with Mallory, in fact, at the beginning of the story, I wasn't sure who she was or what part she was going to play in the story.
I really thought Luke was going to be more of character here, since the prologue is told from his point of view, so when it changes to Mal's and Keith's, I have to say I was a little confused.
The Carson family is really dysfunctional, but in an almost good/lovable way. It was easy to like Keith and Katie. I wish I could say the same for Mallory. She was very, meh.
I understand how women in abusive relationships get pulled back in to them, but Mallory just seemed so unbelievably stupid, especially when it came to leaving her husband, Michael, who was a total jerk. (to keep things clean)
Why does she not have an attorney?
And then there was her relationship with Keith. I liked how they came together, but I really found myself shaking my head after they had sex shortly after Keith's father had a heart attack.
Their romance was sweet as it developed, but it would have been nice to see some growth in Mallory. She had no strength at all, even at the end when she has more gumption, there's still no strength to her character and with the situations she was put in, some strength would have been a good thing.
Kentucky Home is the first book in a new series, and I'm not sure if this book leaves me feeling infested enough in the characters to try another book, maybe if Katie or Luke get stories, I may have a go at continuing this one.
Rating: 3 flowers


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The Ojibwe Community and Water in Minnesota
Story Narrative:
This story was collected as part of a collaborative effort to record the state of American lakes, rivers, and waterways as well an attempt to uncover what water means to Americans. Listen to other stories recorded by the Minnesota Humanities Center for the Stories from Main Street project, an initiative created by the Smithsonian Institution Traveling Exhibition Service for its traveling exhibition "Water/Ways."
Mille Lacs Band of Ojibwe community members:
Natalie Weyaus: I think we teach our children that we respect water because we were born in water and that's one of our teachings.
Mike Wilson: Villages up and down that river -- there were dozens of them.
Charles Lippert: (Native American language). But the Grindstone Lake is really unusual that it is a very, very, very deep lake and it's considered healing waters and people will go there and because of its secluded-ness it also provided shelter for people and it became one of the hub locations for villages.
Mike Wilson: When we first got plumbing on my Dad's Reserve, no one wanted it in their house. They argued against it, because they did not want to (expletive) in the water or pee in it or anything like that because it was unthinkable, I guess, at that time -- "Oh, no. That's not our way", so they put up outhouses and use the outhouses even though the animals go in the water all the time. We used to talk about that, too, "Don't drink any water near the beaver house!"
Fred Keller: Do people ever ask you or the Anishinabe community how to take better care of the water?
Terry Kemper: I think spiritual people do – they talk to us. We talk amongst each other all the time about these things, you know, and with other tribes and other nations, but I am not so sure that the mainstream society does or is concerned about it. I don't think they really realize where they are at right now because it's flowing so freely out of their faucets, you know. I think that a lot of Native American people realize that - where the water is at because we still remember a day when it was clear water out there – when you could go down there and scoop it right out and drink it out of the rivers and our people tell us stories about that, you know.
Asset ID #6732


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I first wrote Put a Filter On It: Instagram as Photojournalism in college after being inspired by David Guttenfelder's intimate photographs of North Korea on his Instagram. The piece explores the ethics behind publishing photographs taken in conflict areas…with filters.
I interviewed Koci Hernandez, an assistant professor for New Media at University of California, Berkeley Graduate School of Journalism; Charles Apple, the focus page editor of the Orange County Register; and Kate Knibbs, a contributing writer for Digital Trends.
The article now lives on Vantage, a Medium publication that focuses on photography, and has gotten over 1,500 views.
Featured images by Damon Winter.


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National Caretaker Appreciation Day
Published: May 17, 2018 2:59 pm ET
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Caretakers are the unsung heroes of harness racing, and are critical to the success of any horse in any stable and charged with the responsibility of making sure the horses they care for are happy and healthy, physically and emotionally.
Standardbred Canada is pleased to announce a new initiative to recognize and reward the caretakers in the Standardbred industry, National Caretaker Appreciation Day.
SC along with horsemen's associations and tracks across the country will partner on this event which will take place on specific race days during the weekend of July 20-22 at racetracks across the country.
The events will feature:
Recognition of all caretakers racing horses on the day's card
Awards for caretakers of winning horses
Refreshments and a gift for all caretakers racing on the day's card
Draw prizes and more
A meeting between trainer Sarah Lauren Scott, a former caretaker, and Kathy Wade Vlaar, Manager of Industry Marketing for SC, was the catalyst behind this program.
Scott, who has recently become a new breeder, also trains and owns trotter Fork along with two retired Standardbreds who were previously under her care. She worked as a caretaker full-time for 15 years including stints at the Meadowlands when she was just 16 years old, and fully understands the hard work that the role demands.
"Appreciation and acknowledgement will go a long way in whatever you do, each caretaker has responsibilities that deserve to be credited. The entry level position of being a caretaker needs to be updated and glorified to a degree so when the Millennials are seeking employment our industry is considered. Being a caretaker requires someone very driven and committed. Behind every great horse is a caretaker," she commented.
Sarah Lauren Scott (R) with Brian Sears, Rocknroll Hanover and Brett Pelling in the North America Cup winner's circle
Standardbred Canada President & CEO Dan Gall, and Wade Vlaar, met via conference call with industry associations and received unanimous support for the concept of this event prior to taking it to the racetracks.
"We are very excited about this initiative to recognize and reward the caretakers, the foundation and backbone of our industry. This gives us the opportunity to help people understand the importance of their job, and generate greater awareness of the entry level jobs in the industry," said Gall.
The caretaker's relationship with the horse is by far the closest. They provide the daily care and attention to the equine athletes, and are the behind-the-scenes people who help keep the show running. They will work seven days a week, and sacrifice their holiday and family time to make sure the horses are properly cared for.
Anyone interested in supporting this program through sponsorship or donations, can contact their local horseperson's association, Sarah Scott, or Kathy Wade Vlaar.
Racetracks who are not racing during the July 20-22 weekend will have the option of selecting a fall date for their National Caretaker Appreciation Day.


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General Question
Which is better, a 4 cylinder or a six cylinder car?
Asked by rowenaz (2431) July 18th, 2007
My car is 10 years old, and I have to invest in a new one. I was thinking 4 cylinder to save on gas, because I travel on the highway at least an hour a day. Then when I drove a six cylinder, it seemed smoother and quieter. Money is an issue.
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text: Move to our City June 6, 2014 • toad2015 Move to our City There are those immigrants move to the city whom have forgotten what a pitty! Those whom lived that go generation back memory short lived they've survived. Sad i would say they come most bringing nothing some do pay and i like it that way. You see i came from a slave family, Maria Mahoi of the island's this i learnt as very little boy. Five generation back i'm one would say part of the ground you walk on, so f**k y** take that! Share this:TwitterFacebookTumblrLike this:Like Loading... Related


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The Canadian Pallet Council provides low cost, competitive pallet services and an efficient pallet interchange system keeping competition alive in Canada and providing a voice for our diverse membership. With almost 1400 members representing the majority of the Canadian Grocery and Consumer Goods Industry, the CPC is undeniably the largest pallet pool in Canada, counting in excess of 7.6 million CPC pallets to its overall pool, with 2.0 million CPC pallets repaired and over 900,000 CPC pallets sold annually.
To keep CPC strong and viable, we welcome your membership! Any industry segment dealing with pallets, from distributors, wholesalers, manufacturers, suppliers, packaging, ingredient companies, brokers, transportation, warehouse, 3PL's, pallet companies and pallet service providers can become CPC members. Please refer to our Board of Directors as an example of industry representation in our distinctive membership base.
CPC: An association created by members, serving members by providing low cost, competitive pallet services.
Membership Fees:
CPC's 2005 membership fees for pallet-user members (typically, the grocery and consumer goods Suppliers and Retailers/Distributors) range from $585.00 – $6,800.00 (dependent on the sales volume of your company).
Transportation and Public Warehouse companies are also considered pallet-user members and are assessed at $620.00 per year.
The annual fee for pallet industry members, such as pallet manufacturers, repair, rental, brokers, retrieval and control companies range from $1,800.00 to $24,000.00, based on annual volume of CPC sales or repair activity. The annual fee for pallet industry members, in the pallet broker or pallet control category is $1,235.00. A one-time inspection fee of $2,730.00 applies to new members within the Pallet Manufacturing and/or Repair Membership category.
All of the above membership fees are in Canadian funds and subject to the Canadian GST of 7%.
Steps to become a CPC User Member:
- Complete the CPC User Member application form. Be sure to include the product being shipped as well as your actual or proposed CPC pallet inventory, on the application form.
- Complete and sign the CPC Trademark Licence Agreement.
- Forward the original forms to the CPC Office at 239 Division Street, Cobourg, ON K9A 3P9.
- Forward payment either by cheque or Visa to the CPC Office at 239 Division Street, Cobourg, ON K9A 3P9.
- When the CPC Office has received all the documentation, as well as payment for the membership, membership may be granted immediately on an interim basis, If so, The new member will be notified of their CPC code.
- A new member information binder will be shipped via Canada Post.
- CPC Bills of Lading will be shipped via Canada Post if ordered at that time.
- All new memberships are reviewed by the CPC Board of Directors at their regularly scheduled meetings for final approval.
If you have any further questions, please contact the CPC office and we will assist you with your CPC membership application.
Steps to become a CPC Pallet Industry Member:
Please contact the CPC office to discuss the requirements for this industry segment. CPC pallet industry members are required to meet specific equipment and business requirements in order to qualify for membership.


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The Little People of Manitoba (LPM) is a non-profit, charitable organization, dedicated to creating awareness about the prominent issues affecting people with dwarfism, and providing social support for Little People in Manitoba. We are just in the process of updating our webpage, so check in frequently to see what's new. Our Main Menu pages have all been... Continue Reading →
Frequently Asked Questions
Q: Why are little people so small? A: This question is the most common question asked to a little person. When asked by a child, the best answer to give is they were born that way. Inform the child that being small is the same reason of them having brown hair, or blue eyes. It... Continue Reading →
Sign our petition to improve Manitoba's Human Rights Code
We close Dwarfism Awareness Month with a video. Watch it here.
Watch our Dwarfism Awareness Video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4VinIxqCKAw
LPM on CJOB with Mackling and Megarry. October 24, 2018. Hear it here.
Samantha Rayburn-Trubyk, Connie Lidster and Avery Lindgren were on with Mackling and Megarry as part of Dwarfism Awareness Month programming. Listen to the full audio track here... https://youtu.be/LmOnbJxcvqE
Maybe it's time to be intolerant only of intolerance?
Our own Samantha Rayburn-Trubyk penned an insightful editorial for the Winnipeg Free Press as part of this year's October Dwarfism Awareness campaign. Read it here ... Free Press Oct 2018
October is Dwarfism Awareness Month. "A Person is a Person, no matter how small." – Dr. Seuss.
Did you know? Dwarfism affects bone growth, not cognitive ability. There are more than 200 different types of Dwarfism. The most common form of Dwarfism is Achondroplasia, which is characterized by disproportionately short arms and legs. In 2017 The Province of Manitoba officially declared October 25 to be annually recognized as "Dwarfism Awareness Day". (read... Continue Reading →
Province of Manitoba Officially Declares October 25th to be Dwarfism Awareness Day
October 25th is recognized as Dwarfism Awareness Day by the Little People of America (LPA). The LPA was started in 1957 with actor Billy Barty and 20 short-statured friends. The first LPA meeting was monumental for a group of people who were severely mislabeled and misunderstood by society. Today, various Little People organizations exist worldwide,... Continue Reading →


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Digital Reference DRDK7 7-Piece Drum Mic Kit
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The Digital Reference DRDK7 7-Piece Drum Microphone Set contains microphones optimized for every type of drum and cymbal. Proper recording means that...Click To Read More About This Product
Inexpensive collection of 7 microphones with clips and mounts for properly miking your drums.
The Digital Reference DRDK7 7-Piece Drum Microphone Set contains microphones optimized for every type of drum and cymbal. Proper recording means that each drum in your kit requires a specific miking approach, and the DRDK7 microphone set delivers. Included are a DR-K100 kick drum mic with clip, 4 DR-ST100 snare/tom mics with clips, and 2 DR-C100 condenser overhead mics.
The 7-piece microphone set provides the ideal punch, detail, and clarity for stage performance or studio recording. The low-profile mics mean minimum visibility, while the resilient microphone mounts reduce stage clutter with secure rim-mounting and versatile positioning. The Digital Reference mic set even includes a hardshell carrying case with die-cut foam compartments and an integrated handle.
- Deep bass reproduction with articulate snap captures the attack and tone of any kick from jazz to rock
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*Limitations and exclusions apply. See terms and conditions (Opens in new window) for program details
Term for New Gear begins on date of purchase but does not replace the store return policy or manufacturer coverage.


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In addition to the criteria for membership described above, members should have a minimum of 10-15 years of progressive human resource and/or leadership experience. Exceptional candidates for membership who don't meet the criteria will be reviewed on a case-by-case basis.
NY HR People & Strategy is a community of HR professionals and, in that spirit, we thank you for honoring our no solicitation policy.


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Rest Easy Sweet Lola
We have bittersweet news for you today. Lola (known as Bear when she was with us) has crossed over the rainbow bridge. When this sweet 13 year old girl found her way to us, we really worried it would be hard to find a home for her, due to her advanced age. But she lucked out and found an absolutely amazing family to love her until the end! They even kept us in the loop with how she was feeling along the way.
Lola's new family only had a short time with her, but we know they loved her dearly. They told us that when she came home with them, it was like she was meant to be there. It truly felt like she belonged with them. She was a fiercely loyal friend and a real smart cookie. While with them, Lola got to cuddle, play, learn, and experience the joy of boating!
We are thankful that Lola was able to spend the remainder of her life being loved, pampered, and treated like the princess she was. We are grateful to Lola's adopters for giving a senior gal a chance and spoiling her right until the end.
Rest easy sweet Lola. We love you! 💙
Category : Happy Tail
Tags: Happy Tail
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Terry ListonReply Cancel Reply
- April 17, 2019
bear was so sweet. she did not like water. she had an inground pool. would never go near it. I adopted her when she was 5 years old. Her name was Bear. I had her for about 9 years. I never would have given her up if I knew I would not have to move. When I asked to have her back she was already adopted. I'm very grateful she was adopted.
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The Christmas Tree
by Geron Kees
© 2018 Geron Kees All rights reserved.
This is a work of fiction. All characters and situations are imaginary. No real people were harmed in the creation of this presentation. Please observe the laws of your jurisdiction with regards to reading this material.
"What do you think of that one?" Ryan asked, tossing a thumb at a handsome Scotch Pine. It was seven feet in height if it was an inch, and probably taller.
John gave it a quick once-over, and then shook his head. "Too tall. My dad'll shit if the top bends against the ceiling. You know how he is."
Ryan sighed. "Most of the trees left here are either really tall or really short." He eyed the Scotch Pine again. "You could always cut a little off the bottom."
"Maybe. But let's keep looking. We'll find the right one."
They continued up the dirt path between the rows of trees, with Ryan stopping before each one and looking hopeful, and John frowning, and then shaking his head. They reached the end of the first row, and turned into the next one.
"A lot of the good ones are already gone," Ryan noted. "I knew we should have come in yesterday. The hordes have worked this place over pretty good."
They were at a lull in business, it seemed. When they had walked by the Christmas tree lot the day before, the place had been aswarm with people, so thick that it had deterred them - or at least, deterred John - from stopping, even though John's dad had expected them to come back with a tree. They had spent the afternoon at a get-together with other friends, and by the time they came by the tree lot it was already getting dark. John had decided to skip stopping for the tree, and his dad had not been happy about it.
"It's five days until Christmas, John," the man had said, after his son had come home empty-handed. "You were going to get this done last week. Your mom and I are depending on you. You really need to get on the ball here, you understand me?"
"Yeah, dad. I'm sorry. I'll do it first thing in the morning, I promise."
His dad had rolled his eyes and left it at that, but John had gotten the message plainly.
"Yeah, I know we should have stopped yesterday," he told his boyfriend. "It was dark, and this place isn't well lit, and..."
"You were making excuses," Ryan finished. "Just because you're fifteen now, and sour on Christmas, you think it's not important."
"I'm not sour on Christmas. I just don't believe in all that goody-goody stuff anymore." John offered up a small pout. "You're the same age as me - you should understand."
Ryan grunted, and cast an annoyed look at his boyfriend. "It's not about goody-goody stuff, John. It's not about Santa Claus, and reindeer, and all that. Christmas is about family, and friends, and enjoying some special time with both. Everyone's busy during the year, and they like that one day to relax and be together. That's the way your mom sees it, that's the way your dad sees it. And that's the way I see it, too." He gave a short sigh. "The holiday's about what you focus on, John."
John winced. "I'm trying."
"Then you could at least help with things, a little." Ryan went on. "Your dad is depending on you."
"I'm trying," John repeated. "I'm just kind of stuck. Christmas is just not fun anymore. It's..." he broke off, seeing the look on his boyfriend's face. "I'm trying," he repeated, a third time.
Ryan shook his head. "Well, try a little harder. Sometimes I think you don't care about anything."
John grinned, and stuck out his tongue. "I love you."
That brought a reluctant smile to Ryan's face, and he looked quickly about to make sure they were unobserved, and then leaned over and kissed John on the cheek. "Just shut up and keep looking."
John smiled, feeling forgiven. He knew he had been dragging his feet on Christmas this year, but...well, what of it? It wasn't like when he was little, with magic in every single day of the week leading up to the holiday itself. These days, it seemed all about Black Friday sales that lasted a week, and crowds at the mall, and people pushing, and grabbing at everything in sight. The rush to buy stuff and get it wrapped, to find a tree and get it decorated, to get the house lights up - all of it had become a pain. Dad was busy at the office, mom was busy at her job, and John was busy with school. But as the least busy, most of the work of getting ready for the holiday had fallen to him. It hadn't been terribly fun, either.
He'd climbed the old wooden ladder and strung the lights across the front of the house, and in the little firs at each end, just like his dad had asked. He'd braved the crowds at the mall and gotten a few of the things on his mom's list, and a few of the things on his dad's list, and a few of the things on his own list; and then he'd given up on the sheer madness of it, and gone online and bought the rest, and paid outrageous amounts for priority shipping. So much for the money he'd been saving for a new laptop.
The fun of the coming holiday was just not there, not anymore. What the heck had happened?
They continued down the row of trees, with John scarcely paying attention as he mulled over the problem of what had happened to Christmas. Ryan pointed at a few more likely candidates as they walked, but John just automatically shook his head, and kept going. Stupid Christmas trees.
When he had been young, he and his dad and his mom had all gone out together the weekend before the last full week before Christmas, to find a tree. It was ritual. The fun of that was that they did it together. It wasn't work, it wasn't a chore - it was an adventure. Parker was a small town, and there was only one place to buy a Christmas tree, at the little field by Jack Henderson's house where his dad sold garden supplies - azaleas and flowers and fill dirt and pine bark mulch - all year long. They would drive over in dad's pick up, and carefully tie their purchase in place in the back, and John would turn around in the seat and watch it through the rear window all the way home, to make sure that it didn't blow away, even though both his mom and his dad had told him that could never happen.
And then they had taken the tree into the house and set it up, and decorated it together, while Christmas music played on the stereo. After decorating the tree, they'd placed the gifts under it - the ones mom had bought, anyway. Santa would bring the rest, John thought back then. And when the magic morning came, he would get up and run downstairs, to find that the number of gifts beneath the tree had magically doubled in the night!
They would open them together, while a fire burned in the fireplace, and again music played in the background. They'd nibble on the chocolate chip cookies that John and mom had made together, and sip hot chocolate together, and it would be...it would be...Christmas. The day would be memorable, and by the end of it, he would be tired, and fall asleep with a smile on his face.
What had happened to all that? What had happened to the fun?
Ryan reached out and stopped him. "Look, man, if you walk past this one, I'm going home. It's too cold out here for farting around!"
John turned to look at the tree in question. This one was a Fraser Fir, about six feet tall, and it was perfect. How it had not already been snatched up was anybody's guess. But there it was, pretty as a picture, and John could already see it dressed up in lights and ornaments.
He found the tag hanging on it, and whistled, "Wow. Eighty-five bucks!"
Ryan blinked, looked at the tree again, and then laughed. "Holy crap. I thought ours cost a lot at seventy dollars!"
John nodded, and peered around the tree, then reached into the branches and felt the needles. They were long and soft - Mr. Henderson did a good job of keeping his trees fresh. No way dad could gripe at this one.
"Help me pull it out, and we'll take it up to the counter."
They leaned the tree towards them, and then dragged it out into the path. John held onto the bole of the tree about two feet down from the top, while Ryan went around and grabbed the base by the wooden stand. They hefted the tree, and both of them gave a grunt as they started towards the counter where Mr. Henderson stood.
"Crap!" Ryan groaned, "This thing is heavy!"
John laughed. "It's more bulky than heavy."
"That's 'cause you're on the light end! This end is heavy, dammit!"
They managed to get the tree to the counter at the edge of the field, where Mr. Henderson was standing, watching the few other customers looking over trees.
"Hi, John. Find what you want?"
The boys stood the tree upright again, and John came around to the counter. "Yeah. Not bad looking, is it?"
The man nodded. "I like Fraser Firs. The space between the branches makes them easy to decorate, and they hold onto their needles a long time." He pointed at the tree. "No mess on the floor around this one the day after Christmas."
John nodded. "Um...about the price. Is it negotiable?"
Mr. Henderson smiled. "You know, if you buy a tree like this in the city, it costs nearly double what I charge?"
John looked around at the few houses nearby, and then laughed. "We're a long way from the city. Sure you can't give me a deal?"
The man's smile broadened. "Maybe. How are you and Jack getting along these days?"
Jack Henderson was on the school soccer team with John, and he and John had butted heads a few times in the past year. Jack wasn't a bad guy, but he had a macho streak in him, and he was the type of personality that got wound up easily. In the heat of some of their intense practice games, he had made several inappropriate statements about John and Ryan being boyfriends, which John had refused to ignore. This had led to a couple of wrestling matches on the soccer field, after the third of which Coach Randall had lost his patience and given them both a week off to think about it. They each had thought about it, and there hadn't been any more problems after.
"Oh, we're buddies now. He said that all gay guys should play soccer."
Mr. Henderson's eyebrows went up, and he laughed. "Really? Well, that should be good for ten percent. How does seventy-six fifty grab you?"
John and Ryan grinned at each other. John's dad had given him a hundred dollars to cover the tree, and told them they could use whatever change was left for a pizza or something. Almost twenty five bucks was a pizza and a half!
"Sure, I'm good with that. Thanks, Mr. Henderson!"
John handed over four of the five twenties he had, and pocketed the change the man gave him. Then he and Ryan went back and hefted the tree.
Mr. Henderson looked around, and then waved at them. "Hold up, guys. You didn't come in a truck?"
John shook his head. "No, we walked. We'll just carry it back."
The man laughed. "Okay. But that tree weighs every bit of sixty pounds, and it's not exactly easy to handle." He looked at his watch. "My wife will be here in about a half hour to break me for lunch. If you want to wait, I'll run you home in the truck."
John grinned. "It's only about a half a mile. We'll be at my house in that half hour. Thanks, anyway!"
The man grinned, but nodded. "Don't forget I offered."
They hefted the tree, and moved it to the edge of the field.
"Hold up a minute," Ryan called, and they set the tree down again.
He came around to where John was standing, and frowned at him. "Why didn't we wait for the truck?"
John shrugged. "It's a tree, not a set of barbells. We can handle it."
"Yeah, but it's cumbersome. We have to hold it up to keep the branches on the bottom from dragging on the ground. And it is pretty heavy." He put his fists against his hips and grunted. "And what's this 'half a mile' crap? It's twice that distance to your place."
"Well..." John sort of looked the other way. "I thought we could cut through Felker's field. That will cut the distance in half."
Ryan's jaw dropped. "Felker's field! Are you nuts? The last time we did that, that stupid cow of theirs chased us all over the place."
John grinned. "She's just being friendly."
"Friendly! She knocked Billy Weston down and stepped on him! Broke his leg!"
John sighed. "So we'll be careful. Stop moaning and let's get going."
Ryan blew a frustrated breath of air between his lips, but relented. "I know we'll be sorry for this. I just know it."
"Come on!" John called, grabbing the top of the tree and swinging it towards him. Ryan mumbled some things under his breath, but returned to the base of the tree and took it up by the stand.
They left the lot, and made it a whole half a block before Ryan called a halt. "Set it down a minute, okay? My arm is starting to pull out of the socket."
They set the tree on its makeshift stand, and John went around to his boyfriend. "Come on. It's not that heavy."
Ryan rubbed his hands together, and smiled. "Okay, you carry the back end when we start again, and I'll carry the little end."
"Okay, ya crybaby." But John smiled when he said it, and gave Ryan's arm a fond little pat. "Wouldn't want you to get hurt right before the holiday."
Ryan sighed. "Okay - you're right. It's not that heavy. It's just hard to hold onto without having a face full of branches. I have to hold the stand, and have my arm extended out in front of me. That's what hurts."
John leaned forward. "Poor baby. I'll make it up to you when we get to my house. My folks won't be back for hours yet."
A slow smile spread across his boyfriend's face. "Yeah? What've you got in mind?"
John looked quickly about, and kissed the tip of Ryan's nose. "Oh, I can think of lots of stuff."
"We have to decorate the tree, remember?"
"Yes. But I have lights and balls enough for the both of you."
Ryan tossed his head back and laughed. "You're on. Let's go, then. But...you carry the back for a while, okay?"
They switched places, picked up the tree, and resumed their walk. It only took a few minutes for John to see what his boyfriend had meant: he had to walk along with the stand ahead of him, his arm extended, and that put most of the weight of the tree on him. His wrist started to ache first; and then his forearm; and then his shoulder. And then all of it started to complain more actively, and John was soon gritting his teeth at the stress. He tried holding the stand with both hands, but that took a lot of the give out of their motion, and their rhythm began to suffer for it.
"What are you doing back there?" Ryan called. "I feel like I'm dragging this thing!"
"Sorry." John went back to one hand, and then to gritting his teeth again.
They hadn't even reached the end of the second block when John called a halt.
"Okay, I see you your point. It's clumsy to handle."
Ryan smiled at him. "You're a little slow, but you do learn, eventually."
They set the tree on the stand, and looked around. Ahead of them, at the end of this block, was where the road curved off to the left. That was where they would need to leave the sidewalk and start heading into the wilds on the right side of the road. Well...Parker wasn't that rural, but there was plenty of tangle around once you got off the roads, and it was enough of a wild area to think that dragging a six-foot Christmas tree through it was not going to be easy.
The town of Parker had grown up around several long established farms, and was laid out in a sort of half-moon shape, where it skirted around the edges of two of the largest. One was the Felker farm, a great dairy operation in its heyday, but now mostly shut down as a working farm. Old man Felker had sold off some of the land on the other side of the farm, away from the town, and about a zillion townhouses had sprang up there. That had forced the county to build a new school, and in that respect, it had been a good move for the locals. There was also more business in the town's stores, and just the sense that the town had grown a bit in a good way.
People had long been cutting across the Felker's upper fields to get from one end of the arc of the town to the other. There was even a well-established path that left Borgnine Street at the curve ahead, cut through the tiny stand of woods surrounding the farm, and let out into the field beyond. It resumed again at the other side of the field, and let one out on Douglas Street, about a half a block from John's house. The savings in time were substantial compared to walking all the way around the arc.
Old man Felker seemed not to mind the traffic, either, though he did get annoyed if anyone bothered either of his two remaining cows. One of them, Josie, was a placid grazer that nothing seemed to faze. The other one, Jezebelle, was aptly named, had a fiery, intolerant disposition, and considered even the birds that sometimes landed in her field as trespassers worthy of chasing. Most of the time, both cows were penned in a smaller field outside the old barn, and it was quite safe to take the shortcut. But Mr. Felker also would let both cows out to 'stretch their legs' periodically, and you never knew when Jezebelle would be on guard duty or not. Taking the shortcut was always a little risky, though both cows tended to stay in the lower section of the field when let out to roam, and as the shortcut passed across the upper field, you generally had ample warning that Jezzy was out, and more than enough time to run across the field before she got to you.
"I think we should skip the shortcut," Ryan decided, after they had each caught their breath again. "That damn cow might be out, and we can't run carrying this tree."
John shook his head. "The cows were out loose the day before yesterday, remember? Old man Felker almost never lets them out but once a week, and this week ain't over yet."
"John...it's not a good idea."
John sighed, and moved closer to his boyfriend. "I know that. But it'll take us an hour to go by sidewalk - probably longer, because we'll have to keep stopping to rest. And then we have to set the tree up and decorate it...the whole damn day will be gone."
"What did you have to do today besides this?"
John pouted. "Well...nothing. Be with you. Try to find something fun in this Christmas."
Ryan looked pained, and moved a little closer. "John...just being with you is Christmas, for me. Don't you see that? Every day is Christmas for me. I have the best gift I could ever get. You."
John felt surprised, and then touched. "Well...I feel the same way."
"Then stop stressing over this. Stop looking for the meaning in it. There isn't one, except the one you give to it. You know?"
John considered that, and then nodded. "Maybe. Maybeso." He grinned then. "But I still want to take the shortcut. Stop worrying. We'll be fine.
Ryan squeezed his eyes closed and sighed. "You are so hard-headed."
John grinned, and patted his crotch. "It's not there yet, but just wait until I get you in my room."
Ryan looked startled, and then laughed. "You're crazy. But I love you, anyway."
"Yeah." John nodded. "I love you you, too, Ry. Now let's go."
They picked up the tree again, and reached the end of the block and crossed the street to the gap in the rusty barbwire fence that surrounded the upper end of the Felker place. The path started here, wound its way through a short section of woods, and then opened out into the field beyond. There was a drainage ditch by the side of the road, before you got to the fence, but it was dry and the ground hard, and they had only a little trouble wrestling the tree down into it and up the other side.
And then they were on the path.
"Home free now," John said, grinning.
They entered the path, being careful not to tangle the branches of the Christmas tree in the undergrowth to each side, which wasn't always easy, and made their way slowly to the edge of the field.
"Set it down a minute," Ryan said then. "I want to have a look, before we start across."
They stood the tree up again, and when it threatened to tip over on the uneven ground, John reached into the branches and grabbed the bole, to steady it. "Okay. Take a quick look."
Ryan nodded, and went out a few steps into the field, looking down the hill at the distant barn, a full half mile away. He frowned, scanned the field in both directions, and came back to his boyfriend. "I don't see anything."
John grinned. "See. We're good to go."
Ryan shook his head. "I mean, I don't see anything. I can see the small, fenced field by the barn, and the cows aren't in it."
"You see them anywhere else?"
John laughed. "There you go. They're probably in the barn today, cold as it is."
Ryan blew out a breath, watched the mist drift away on the morning air. "It is cold out, no doubt about that." He suddenly smiled then. "Feels like Christmas to me!"
"Let's go, then. Help me."
They got the tree again, and started across the field. The hard ground crunched under their feet, the grass feeling stiff and unyielding. How did cows eat this crap, anyway?, John wondered. Maybe they didn't. Maybe they ate-in in this kind of weather, and just roamed around outside to see the sights. Did cows get bored if they were stuck inside the barn?
- tinkle - tinkle - tinkle -
John slowed, forcing Ryan to slow. "Did you hear that?"
Ryan gave out an exasperated groan. "Yeah, I heard it. Keep going. We'll worry about what it is when we reach the trees!"
- tinkle - tinkle - tinkle -
John slowed even more, and turned his head, trying to get an idea where the sound was coming from.
And so made direct eye contact with the cow, which was charging up the hill, straight at them.
"Stop!" John hissed, setting down his end of the tree.
Ryan took a further step forward, and so almost lost his grip on the tree. "What -?"
John jumped at him, took the top of the tree from his grasp, and stood the tree upright on its stand. Then he grabbed his boyfriend and pulled him behind the tree. "Be quiet!"
They heard the cow then - both the grunting of its breathing as it ran, and the steady whoom-whoom-whoom-whoom of its hooves pounding the ground. Ryan froze, and John found himself holding the other boy protectively behind himself. "Don't move," John breathed.
- tinkle - tinkle - tinkle -
Gently, John parted some of the branches of the tree and peered through them. The cow appeared at the crest of the hill and stopped, obviously looking for them.
John took one look, and it was all he could do to stop himself from laughing out loud. It had to be Jezebelle, simply because Josie would never have bothered herself to come up the hill to confront them. That the cow beyond the Christmas tree was not in a good mood was plain, and John could certainly understand why.
She was wearing a red collar around her neck, which was laced round-and-round with what looked like holly, and from which little, merry bells were hung, which tinkled as the animal moved. The collar had white fur underneath it, probably making it very comfortable for the cow to wear, but no trade-off for the constant tinkling of the tiny bells, which simply had to be annoying as heck to the the cow.
As if that was not enough of an indignity, someone had strapped a pair of antlers to Jezebelle's head. It was a small deer rack, only about a four-pointer, but it simply looked comical atop the cow's head. That someone had made her up for the holiday was plain - maybe Mr. Felker's grandchildren were already visiting. This had the mark of their type of humor, from what John had seen of it in the past.
Behind him, Ryan gave out a tiny sputter, and covered his mouth with one hand. He had also seen the cow through the branches, and was also doing his best to be quiet about it.
Beyond the Christmas tree, Jezebelle stopped, turning her head this was and that, as if looking for them. John could almost imagine what the animal was thinking...
What? I could have sworn I saw a couple of knuckleheads up here in my field! But...that's just a tree, and trees don't move. Hmm.
The idea made him grin, and he had to cover his own mouth, too. Behind him, Ryan had pushed his face into the back of John's shoulder, and was laughing helplessly and silently, trying not to snort through his nose. The sound of it made John want to laugh, and he grinned madly and took one elbow and gently poked his boyfriend with it.
"Stop it. Be quiet."
Ryan nodded, but John could still feel him gently heaving for another thirty seconds before he got control of himself.
Poor Jezebelle. Her expression was just plain indignant, as if she could not believe what had been done to her. The cow did look like she was having a bad day. It was strange how animal expressions could translate into human ones in the eye. The cow looked like she was at the end of her last nerve, with nothing left but an explosion waiting to happen.
"What are we gonna do?" Ryan whispered into John's ear. "We can't stand here all day."
John shrugged, not sure yet what they could do. Jezzy was still watching the tree, and now her expression seemed almost startled. Hey...I don't remember a tree being there before...
"Maybe we can scare her off," John whispered.
"How are we gonna do that?"
John considered that a moment, and then had an idea. Quite suddenly, he stuck his arms out through the branches and waved them fiercely, and let out a holler in a piercing, high-pitched voice: "Whoo-whoo-whoo! Whoo-whoo-whoo!"
Jezebelle's head pulled back suddenly, her eyes grew huge, and the cow danced back from the tree. Encouraged, John waved his hands even more energetically, and let out another war yell.
The cow turned and ran back a distance, and then turned to look at the tree again.
"Well, go on, you big, dumb lump," John hissed. "Beat it!"
But Jezebelle had dropped her head, and now she stamped the ground with her fore hooves, her eyes locked on the unbelievably sassy tree. She shook her head from side to side, and looked far from ready to run for her life.
"Shit!" Ryan whispered hoarsely. "You just made her mad!"
It did look that way. Jezebelle's eyes looked hard now, as she pondered charging the tree.
"Run!" Ryan bellowed, and grabbed at John, trying to pull him from behind the tree. But John stayed put, trying to hold onto Ryan, to keep him from running.
But their hands slipped apart. Ryan stumbled out from behind the tree, took one look at the expression on Jezebelle's face - and took off running.
Except that he only made it about ten steps away from the tree. A tractor had been through here when the ground had been soft, leaving deep furrows in the ground. Now they were frozen hard. His eyes locked on the cow, Ryan stepped right into one, stumbled, and crashed to the ground.
Jezebelle took one look at the sprawled figure trespassing on her turf, and surged into motion, running right at Ryan.
John's whole world stopped in disbelief. Ryan was about to be trampled!
He didn't think, he didn't plan a thing. He just acted. John leaped out from behind the tree, raced to place himself between Ryan and the charging cow, turned to face her, held up both hands, and bellowed at the top of his lungs, the loudest he had ever screamed in his life: "Stop!"
And Jezebelle did just that, splaying her legs slightly before her as she dug into the hard earth. She stopped about five feet away from John, so close that he could feel the warmth of her breath on his hands. And then the cow and the boy just looked at each other.
John shook his head, feeling numb. "You can't," he said to the cow.
Jezebelle just watched him, looking unsure of herself for the first time.
"You okay?" John said over his shoulder.
John sensed movement behind him, and shook his head. "Don't get up yet. Just stay put."
Jezebelle snorted, but backed up a step. John frowned at her, and nodded. "I can see why you're pissed off. Somebody hung that junk all over you." He blinked then, surprised at his own thoughts.
What was Christmas to a cow?
Nothing, that's what. Cows did not know how to have Christmas. Only people knew how to do that.
Only people knew how to do that.
John gently lowered his hands, and took a step forward.
"What are you doing?" Ryan hissed, and John could hear the fear in his boyfriend's voice.
"Just stay there," he said, quietly. "Trust me."
He took another step towards Jezebelle, who eyed him with definite uncertainty now, as if thinking to herself, this is not the way this is supposed to go.
It only took a few steps to cross to the cow. John stopped right in front of her, while Jezebelle watched him uncertainly.
"Nice cow," John said, softly, and laid a hand on her muzzle. She immediately shook it off, but now her eyes were plainly wondering.
John nodded, laid his hand even more slowly on the cow's muzzle, and gave it a gentle rub. "See? I'm being nice."
This time, Jezebelle's eyes watched him, but she did not pull away from his touch.
Slowly, John slid his hand back, until it laid upon the buckle of the strap holding the antlers upon Jezzy's head. He fumbled with it, got it undone, and then Jezzy stepped back as the antlers fell from her head.
"Better?" John asked, holding up his hands. "I'm sure that's more comfortable."
He stepped closer, again gently rubbed the cow's muzzle, and then the top of her head. Jezzy stood still, and allowed him to do it. John rubbed the top of her head a moment, and then found the buckle holding the collar with the bells around her neck, undid it, and let it drop to the ground. Jezzy started at the last - tinkle - tinkle - tinkle - and looked down at the offending collar for a moment before looking back at John. And then she have a little grunt, and turned and started back down across the field.
"Merry Christmas," John breathed, relief flooding throughout his body.
He sensed his boyfriend getting to his feet behind him; and then Ryan had his arms around John's waist. He laid his chin on John's shoulder, and sighed. "You saved me."
John turned around within the other's embrace, and hugged him hard, and then hugged him more gently. "I thought I was gonna lose you."
They stood that way a moment, while thoughts whirled about in John's mind. Christmas is about people, Ryan had told him...
And it was true. And not just Christmas, either. Life was about people. Life was no good without others to share it with. He had been complaining that Christmas was no fun anymore. But...had he tried to make it fun? His parents had made it fun for him, once. But they were busier these days, trying to make ends meet. They were often too busy to be fun.
But John wasn't. They had left the few details of Christmas to him to handle this year, and he had goofed up every single one of them. Things were not fun because John had not seen anything but his own side of things. If his parents were too busy for the small things that made the holiday fun, then couldn't...couldn't John take up the slack for them? Couldn't he make it fun for them for a change? Didn't he owe them that much, in return?
And Ryan. He had been trying to be cheerful for the holiday - cheerful enough for the both of them - and John had done nothing but sour things down. He felt terrible now, knowing he owed his boyfriend much better than that.
John kissed Ryan, not once, but three times, before pulling back and grinning at him. "See how easy that was?"
Ryan gaped at him, and then swatted him. John took it with a grin, and then pulled Ryan back into an embrace. "Okay, I'm sorry. It was stupid to come this way. It could have ended badly." He let the smile slide away, and looked into Ryan's eyes. "I'm sorry."
Ryan simply nodded. "I don't blame you." He sighed. "I do love you, though."
John nodded. "Me, too."
Ryan watched him a moment, and then nodded. "I believe you." He looked over John's shoulder at the distant rear of Jezebelle, now back down in the lower field. "So let's get, while the getting is good."
They returned to the tree, hoisted it up again, and crossed the rest of the field. This time, they did not put it down again until they reached the safety of the woods, and stepped inside. And then they hugged again, as the adrenalin within them wore itself out.
"Do you think that cow really would have stepped on me?" Ryan asked.
John shrugged, playing it down, even though he remembered with crystal clarity the expression in Jezebelle's eyes as she had charged Ryan. "Probably not. She probably just wanted to scare us."
"She did that," Ryan said, smiling. "I'm still shaking."
John nodded, putting his arm around his boyfriend. "Yeah." He sighed. "I learned something, though."
Ryan laughed. "Yeah. Don't mess with crazy cows."
Some other things, too, John thought to himself. But he just nodded again, and kissed Ryan one more time.
They resumed their trek then, and this time did not stop again until they were able to set the tree down in John's living room. The stand was already there, in the corner of the room by the window. They knocked off the makeshift cross that had supported the tree at the lot, stood the tree up in the support base, added some water, and tightened the clamp. And then they stepped back to look at it.
"I think it's going to be worth the effort," John said, grinning.
Ryan nodded. "It's a pretty tree. What are we putting on it?"
John rubbed his hands together gleefully. "I'll get the stuff. But first --"
He turned on the stereo, and put in a CD of Christmas carols, and turned it down so it would be there in the background. And then he hauled out the big box of tree trimmings from the hall closet, and carried it over to the tree. John opened it, and began taking out smaller boxes of multi-colored ornaments, tinsel, and lights.
They set to work, stringing the lights, hanging the different decorations, and tossing bits of tinsel here and there among the branches. An hour went by, while they talked and laughed and worked on the tree. John found that he was having fun, and almost wished the moment would never end.
"It looks pretty good," Ryan finally said, stepping back and gazing at the decorated tree. Their Fraser Fir was aglow now with twinkling lights and baubles of every color, and draped generously with strands of gold and silver tinsel. If anything, it was slightly overdone - but to John it just looked beautiful. That Ryan was there to share it with him made all the difference.
John grinned then, and pointed at the carpeted floor. "I think you dropped a ball under there, though. Better get it, before my dad steps on it or something."
Ryan looked down. "What? I dropped one?"
"I heard it fall," John said, keeping his face straight. "I can see my dad stepping on it in his stocking feet now."
Ryan pursed his lips, but dropped to his knees and looked beneath the lower branches. "I don't see anything."
John dropped to his knees beside him, and pointed. "There, in the back."
Ryan sighed, and eyed him; but he leaned forward onto his hands and lowered himself to his belly. And then he was squirming under the tree.
John grinned, laid down, and squirmed in beside him.
"I don't see it," Ryan said, turning to look at him.
"I lied," John said then. "You didn't drop anything."
Ryan blinked at him, but then grinned as John pushed his face closer.
"So we're here for a reason?"
"Yes." John nodded, and kissed his boyfriend. "I just wanted to tell you what I learned today."
"And what was that?"
John sighed. "Well...you were right all along. Christmas isn't about Santa, and all that stuff. Or about presents. It's not even about the tree." He sighed then, and kissed his boyfriend one more time. "Christmas is about what's under the tree, I think."
Ryan grinned, and returned the kiss. "You did learn something. I'm happy about that."
John nodded. "I love you."
Ryan leaned his forehead against John's, and sighed. "I love you, too."
They stayed close, their eyes closed, until Ryan finally started to laugh. "We're not staying here until your parents get home, are we?"
John opened his eyes and grinned. "I'll say not. We have stuff to do!"
They inched backwards from under the tree, and got to their feet. Ryan looked it over, and shook his head. "What's left? It's done."
"Not that." John took his boyfriend's hand, and started to lead him towards the kitchen. "Do you know how to make chocolate chip cookies?"
Ryan stopped, and stared at him. "Are you serious?"
John nodded, his eyes twinkling. "Sure."
Ryan laughed. "Well...no, I don't know how to make chocolate chip cookies."
"That's okay. I do." John took his boyfriend's hand again and started forward. "Come on. I'll teach you."
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text:
Generex Biotechnology Provides Investor Conference Call Details Tuesday January 21, 2020 at 9:30 AM
MIRAMAR, Fla., Jan. 17, 2020 (GLOBE NEWSWIRE) -- Generex Biotechnology Corporation (www.generex.com) (OTCQB:GNBT) today announced Call-in details for the upcoming investor conference call on Tuesday January 21, 2020 at 9:30 AM Eastern time.
The access information for the investor conference call is as follows:
Domestic US/Canada – 1-(866) 342-8588
Direct Toll / International - 1-(203) 518-9865,
Program Title: Generex Biotechnology Announces Investor Conference Call
Conference ID – 3654
- Update on the 2:5 GNBT stock dividend and the 2:5 NuGenerex Immuno-Oncology (NGIO) stock dividend & the FINRA approval process
- Share price review: Impact of irregular & illegal trading and plans to address wrongdoing
- Go-forward plans to build and operate the Generex enterprise
- Update on the progress toward the NuGenerex Immuno-Oncology (NGIO) spinout
- Funding update
- ALTuCELL closing update
As always, Generex President & Chief Executive Officer, Joseph Moscato welcomes questions from shareholders during the call.
About Generex Biotechnology Corp.
Generex Biotechnology is an integrated healthcare holding company with end-to-end solutions for patient centric care from rapid diagnosis through delivery of personalized therapies. Generex is building a new kind of healthcare company that extends beyond traditional models providing support to physicians in an MSO network, and ongoing relationships with patients to improve the patient experience and access to optimal care.
In addition to advancing a legacy portfolio of immune-oncology assets, medical devices, and diagnostics, the Company is focused on an acquisition strategy of strategic businesses that complement existing assets and provide immediate sources of revenue and working capital.
Cautionary Note Regarding Forward-Looking Statements
This release and oral statements made from time to time by Generex representatives in respect of the same subject matter may contain "forward-looking statements" within the meaning of the Private Securities Litigation Reform Act of 1995. These statements can be identified by introductory words such as "expects," "plan," "believes," "will," "achieve," "anticipate," "would," "should," "subject to" or words of similar meaning, and by the fact that they do not relate strictly to historical or current facts. Forward-looking statements frequently are used in discussing potential product applications, potential collaborations, product development activities, clinical studies, regulatory submissions and approvals, and similar operating matters. Many factors may cause actual results to differ from forward-looking statements, including inaccurate assumptions and a broad variety of risks and uncertainties, some of which are known and others of which are not. Known risks and uncertainties include those identified from time to time in the reports filed by Generex with the Securities and Exchange Commission, which should be considered together with any forward-looking statement. No forward-looking statement is a guarantee of future results or events, and one should avoid placing undue reliance on such statements. Generex undertakes no obligation to update publicly any forward-looking statements, whether as a result of new information, future events or otherwise. Generex claims the protection of the safe harbor for forward-looking statements that is contained in the Private Securities Litigation Reform Act.
Generex Contact:
Generex Biotechnology Corporation
Joseph Moscato
Todd Falls
1-800-391-6755 Extension 222
Upcoming Life Sciences Events
- September 2020
- Washington: The World Vaccine Congress Washington
- Brussels: The Pharma Business Development Course
- October 2020
- Maryland Life Sciences Bio Innovation Conference
Latest company news
Generex Biotechnology Subsidiary NuGenHealth Contracts with Paradise Valley Family Medicine to Provide Chronic Care Management (CCM) and Remote Patient Monitoring (RPM) Services
APACMed hosts first ever hybrid conference
Cosmo PR and HekaBio Announce Strategic Partnership and Investment in HekaBio


text:
(General Information Release April 2005)
Effective from 1st April 2005 MMS has relocated its corporate headquarters from North Wales to South Wales. The company has taken up offices in The Maltings, a Grade II listed building in the Bay area of Cardiff. This historic building is one of the landmarks of Cardiff.
New contact details for Maelgwyn Mineral Services are:
The Maltings
East Tyndall Street
Cardiff Bay, CF24 5EA, UK
Tel: +44 (0) 29 2047 3700
Fax: +44 (0) 29 2047 3701