text:
23. To Rebuild Them (3019/3020)
The surgeon steps up to the door of the small neat house on the Fifth Circle. He stands there for what feels like a very long time before he forces himself to knock. In one of his hands is a pitifully small bundle; it contains a combination of the items that his apprentice left behind in the Houses, and the things that the Sixth Infantry soldiers took from his corpse on the ashy ground at the Black Gate. Some handkerchiefs and a deck of playing cards; a whetstone, a few spare tunics, and the grey surcoat that marked him for a surgeon, the white apprentice's stripe at the shoulder. There were letters; of course he left letters. They always do.
Anendil, the captain of the unit to which Laeron was attached, would have come to visit the family first. Valacar is mightily grateful that that responsibility did not fall to him; at the same time he reckons himself a coward for feeling that relief.
It's the mother who comes to the door. He's met her before. She was a youthful, handsome-looking woman, quick with a smile and a kind word. Now, her face is worn and lined. When she sees him, her expression goes blank with the wide-eyed emptiness that Valacar recognizes from the wounded men they lay on his table in the Houses.
He says her name, and then the only other thing that he can think to say: "I'm sorry."
She slaps him.
The shock stings more than the blow. Well, he thinks. Seems about right. It would appear that this is his season to be struck by women. He sets her son's things down at her feet, and leaves.
The next day she sends a message up to the Houses, asking to speak to him. They sit in her kitchen.
"I don't know what came over me," she says, staring into her teacup. Her skin is fair, like Laeron's was, and she is flushed now with shame and weariness. She glances up at him. "Will you forgive me?"
"Nothing to forgive."
"He always spoke well of you. He admired you very much, you know. He took great pride in his work." She smiles as much as she can manage. "Thank you for being so good to him."
Valacar nods. "He…" What could he say, that could possibly mean anything to this woman? He was a good boy? He was kind? He was brave? He did not die in vain? He wonders if that last one is true. The rest are.
"I couldn't have asked for a better apprentice," he says, finally. She closes her eyes.
With an abrupt movement, she gets up from her chair and goes into the next room. When she returns there is a familiar sheaf of folded papers in her hand.
"These were among the things you gave me," she says. "Perhaps you didn't see them. I didn't read any of them, only the one meant for me."
Tied together with string are a few letters. One of them has his name written on the front in Laeron's neat, cramped handwriting.
"Will you see to it that these go to whom they're addressed? I believe they're all in the Houses."
"Yes, of course." He glances through the names.
When he goes back up to the Sixth Circle, the girl who is to take Laeron's place as his apprentice is sitting in the kitchens, sewing and talking with a few of the other young women. They rest their elbows on the table, play with the handles of spoons and teacups. Seeing her, head bent over her needle and thread, he is struck with an odd mixture of grief and pride, both for her and for the young man who will not return.
He catches her eye and motions her over. She gets up and crosses to where he is standing, her sewing still clutched in one hand. He can see that the cloth is the same grey that he wears now: it's the surcoat that will mark her for a surgeon, a white apprentice's stripe on one shoulder. She must be hemming it up or taking it in, he thinks.
"I've been to see Laeron's mother," he says. "He left this for you." He holds out a letter, and she takes it in her free hand and stares at it. "Would you like me to read it out for you?" he asks.
She thinks for a moment, and then replies, "Thank you, no. I think I'll wait until I can read it, myself."
"Very well," he nods. He has seen her laboring over books and papers lately, quill in hand, brow furrowed in concentration. Sometimes he sits with her and helps. One of the other girls wanders over, teacup still in hand.
"Elloth," he says, and hands her a letter of her own. "That's for you. From Laeron."
"Oh." She takes it and puts it in her pocket with scarcely a look. He can't fault her, can't fault either of the girls. When he goes back to his own room, he will place his own missive, unopened, on the top of the bookcase, and pour himself a drink.
Finally, it's Coronation Day. Nearly Coronation Evening, by this time. The City smells of fresh flowers and sweet wine. Songs seem to waft from each courtyard and open window, and banners stream from the white walls on every circle. Young people drift through the revelries unchaperoned. Though at this point, Beren finds the very notion of a chaperone to be patently absurd. Insulting, even. He handled himself well enough on the City walls and at the Morannon without some doughty goodwife trailing behind him, thank you very much. With every watch and every rally, his captain trusted him with the lives of his fellows. Surely he can be trusted alone with a young lady; and she with him, for that matter.
"Did you get to see very much?" he asks the young lady in question. Her dress is the Dol Amroth blue that will prove to be most popular with the women of Minas Tirith this spring, not to mention with many of the men. This, along with the rich green of the Rohan banners, and the black and silver that Beren himself wears proudly on his dress uniform, will be most in demand when the weavers and dyers open their shop windows once more. The Season of the West, they will call it. Small white flowers are woven through her dark hair. She looks, he thinks, absolutely lovely.
"I did," she replies. "At first we were standing behind one of the éoreds, with their shields and their spears; you know how tall the Rohirrim are. But one of the young Riders took pity on us, and let us stand in front. What about you?"
"My company was fortunate—we had a fine view. Did you see Mithrandir?"
"The old man?" she smiles. "Wizard. Or, whatever he is, I suppose. Yes, I did."
"We did, too."
The sun is setting; all over the City, torches are being lit, meals laid out on tables, and the tempo of the music picks up, as if in anticipation of dancing. Beren thinks that if he does not get to sleep tonight, it will be quite all right. He wants to breathe in as much of this day as he can, hold it in his lungs for as long as possible. He smiles at the girl, and offers her his arm as they walk together. She takes it, leaning in to him slightly, and his heart speeds up a bit.
They're not exactly courting, and they're certainly not betrothed. He's not really sure what to call it. They've walked together through gardens and wreckage. They sit across from one another at tables, sipping strong tea—those long wooden tables built for healers, soldiers and kitchen girls, and all those people who keep the City safe and warm in their own small ways. He is careful with her—most of the time he won't so much as kiss her cheek without permission, spoken or implied. Sometimes he worries that his actions verge on a parody of affected chivalry, but she has never said anything.
On the Fifth Circle, where they now are, the festivities are concentrated in a series of honeycombed courtyards that branch off from the market square. They stop in one of these smaller spaces to listen to a particularly lively pair of musicians—a fiddler and a harpist. She puts her head against Beren's shoulder and drapes an arm about his waist. In response, he turns and plants a kiss on her brow. She sighs, her breath warm against his throat, and that about does it for him.
"Should we step out?" he whispers in her ear, and she nods, smiling. He likes this, too, this mixture of shyness and ardor that she seems to have.
He looks around, then leads them through a narrow archway, into the shaded corner of the next courtyard over. A low wall partially muffles the music and the chatter.
He puts his arms about her and leans in for a kiss. He can taste the honey-laced tea and the sugared cake she had at lunch time; sweetness seems to be the order of the day, at least in the kitchens. She hesitates for a moment, and then returns the kiss, twining her arms around his neck. She pulls away slightly to glance up at him, smiling, and then she stands on her toes to kiss him again.
His right hand trails down to brush her hip, and he bends his head to put his lips to her neck. She sighs again. Without thinking, he shifts his weight, backing her gently into the wall on the side of the archway.
As soon as her shoulders touch the stone, her body goes rigid and she pushes him away in one sharp movement. She stands with her arms folded tightly over her chest. The look on her face shocks him, her eyes wide with animal terror, perhaps a hint of rage lurking behind them.
Then she unfolds her arms and shuts her eyes. He thinks she is trembling.
"Sorry," she says.
"It's not your fault. It's me." She takes a breath, opens her eyes and looks at him again. "I suppose I don't like having my back to the wall," she adds, quietly.
"Oh," he says. Then: "Valar. I'm sorry." He feels ill.
She sinks down a low bench nearby. He sits beside her.
"I'm not what you'd call happy, Beren, even now." Her tone is plain, with no self-pity in it, as if she were passing on an unremarkable piece of information. "Not for more than a few hours at a time, at least."
"Me, neither, sometimes," he says. "But it's better than not at all. And you make me happy," he adds.
Her smile is wan, but, from what he knows of her, unforced. "And you, me." She pauses. They listen to the music and the noise of the crowd drifting over the wall. "Sometimes, I think I'm all in pieces," she says.
He responds, truthfully, "So do I."
She reaches for his hand. He closes both of his palms over hers, his skin roughened by sword calluses, and hers by endless soap and water.
With the fingers of her free hand she pulls down the neckline of her blue dress a little. "I've got a scar, here," she says, indicating a spot below her collarbone not far from where he kissed her a few moments ago. "Just a small one."
He leans over to look where she is pointing. It's the thinnest of marks, just paler than the rest of her skin. He wouldn't have known it was there if she hadn't told him.
"It's from a carving knife," she says.
"Valar," he repeats. He does not know what else to say, and so they are silent for a few moments. Then he says, "It's not so bad to have scars, you know."
She looks at him. "No?"
"It means you survived."
She tightens her grip on his hand. They sit quietly, and somewhere behind them the song changes, and a new one begins. A reel. Beren recognizes it; it's an old tune, but good, with a quick strong rhythm.
"Do you dance?" he asks her.
She smiles. "Not well," she admits.
"Lots of time to practice." Still holding her hand, he stands up and turns so he is facing her. She considers this for a moment, and then she rises to join him.
Spring passes into summer, and Ceorth lingers in the Houses of Healing. The people are kind enough, especially that girl, the healer, with whom he's struck an odd sort of friendship. Still, he feels out of place here; how could he not? The problem is that, somehow, he feels even more out of place among his own countrymen when they come to visit him. It is a comfort to be among his people, to slip back into the rhythms of his native tongue. But when they ask him to come back down with them to the éored-camps, he declines, for reasons he can't name to himself.
He does not presume to think that it's his grief that sets him apart; how could it be? He's far from the only one to have lost scores of kinsmen and friends, far from the only one to have given up a limb in battle. It still aches, all of it, and even when he does not look directly at the pain it is still there, like a bright thing just on the edge of his vision—but no matter. Surely they all feel that.
In a way the grief is easier to understand than what lies beyond it, an emptiness that he can't quite fathom. He is not at home, here, it's true, but neither would he be at home in Edoras, or back in the Westfold, for that matter. In all his life, there was only one small point on the map that he has ever called home. It is gone forever, now, and by all rights he should be lying in ash with it, with his brother and his wife and their little girl. With Maethwyn, for whose hand he had meant to ask, come harvest time. But he is not lying in ash. He is here, and he is alive.
The girl, his friend, has been learning to read. She tells him about the history of her people, the lists of cities and rulers, and the strange ways in which their lines diverged and came back together. When she tells these tales, her voice is formal, tentative; very different from the way the Éorlingas are given to chanting the names of their kings, the sounds rich and rolling. In many the ways the Gondorrim are a strange people to him, and yet he finds them intriguing. And he envies them, at least for the obstinacy of their stone City that withstood fire and volleys, crumbling though some parts of it may be. They know where their home is.
He is getting better on the crutches, going about the wards and careful to keep out of everyone's way as he does so. In the afternoon, he notices another one of the girls, the one who had sat beside him on the bench in the garden during the toasts. She had smelled of fresh herbs and lavender water. She's pretty—beautiful, he must admit to himself—but that is not the first thing he notices. It's her stillness, both of her body and her gaze as she stands in the dispensary, sleeves pushed up to reveal pale arms. She sees him looking, fixes him with steady grey eyes.
"Hello," she says.
There is much to do and much to prepare. Even so, the White Lady of Rohan has found time to return to the Houses of Healing now and again, particularly to the gardens. Some weeks ago, one of the surgeons here looked at her left arm one last time, pronounced it mended, and helped her slip it free of its sling. It is weak, but whole, and he assured her that it would grow strong again in time.
"Strong enough to bear a shield?" she asked him mildly. One must find a way to measure these things, after all.
To his credit, he smiled, and said, "If my lady wishes."
She visits, when she can, with the men of the Mark who yet remain in the Houses. She visits, too, with the Warden and with the surgeons and healers and herbalists who labor here. She would be a healer, she told Faramir. And so she will, after her own fashion. She is already acquainted with the uses of remedies and herbs, the necessities of splints and bandages, from her long years as lady of her uncle's house. More than that, she knows all too well the wages of battle and illness, the way they can sow rage and reap grief. What she has learned in these wards, is time.
She speaks to the healers as they work. She listens to what they have to say about the consistency of bone and the properties of a bitter draught, the blessing of patience. Of slowness. Time serves not merely to age and rot, to turn the seasons beyond our control. Time can heal, and temper. It can bring us about to the place in which we were meant to dwell. This is all good. It will all help.
She will return soon to Rohan, to lay her uncle in the earth beside his forbears. And, she hopes, to begin to help her land to heal, to aid her brother at the start of his long endeavor. There are crops to be sown, and later mares to foal, villages to rebuild. To glimpse these things, even if only their beginnings, will do her well. And then she will set forth once more.
For the time being she must say farewell, to Faramir and also to this strange City of his, which has claimed a piece of her heart in these intervening months. She sits with a young man from the Westfold; he lost his leg at the Pelennor, but is healing well. They speak in their own language.
Théoden-king's funeral party departs for Edoras in three days' time, she tells him. He may have passage with them, if he wishes.
When the young man is silent, she tries to alight on the source of his hesitation. He may very well harbor the doubts shared by many a wounded Rider.
"There is much to be done in the Mark," she says. "Be assured that you would have a place there, and work worthy of one still young and strong, if you wish it."
"Thank you, my lady," he says. "I know that's true. Forgive me," he continues, "but—I'm not yet decided." He pauses. "My heart will always be in the Mark, but there is something about this place that I like. I would see more of it, before I return to Rohan."
She thinks about this for a moment, and then she asks, "Reasons of your own?"
"Aye, my lady," he says, and then he smiles. "Reasons of my own."
"Very well," she says, and returns his smile. "You have time yet to decide. The Warden will send your message along to Éothain, should you change your mind." She pauses. "Next year I may also have need of men in Ithilien. If you think you may be willing, I will make a note of your name."
He considers this. "I may be. Thank you."
"Fare you well, Ceorth."
"And you, my lady."
Later in the afternoon, she sees the young girl who waited on her while she lingered in the Warden's rooms, facing East. Small and solemn, she seemed then. That time already seems grey and flat in her memory, now, a dream half-recalled. In April, Faramir told her about the girl's petition to the council. Later he told her about what he had found in the yellowed scrolls, about the thwarted Queen, the kingdom at war, and the rules that resulted from the Steward's choice.
"And your healers yet follow those laws, made for that time?" she asked him.
"It would seem they do," he replied. "What say you to that?"
She thought for a moment. "I say, let the maiden take up the knife, if you deem her worthy. You must change those laws and loose those bindings that constrain you for no good reason." She smiled. "You taught me that."
"And you, me." He kissed her, then. "My thoughts, exactly."
She sees now that the girl has indeed taken up the knife; she is wearing the grey of a surgeon.
"My lady," she says, dropping a curtsey. "I hear you're to take your leave of us soon."
"That's true. Though I hope soon to return, as well." She smiles. "My thanks to you and your people, for the aid and succor you have given us, here."
"And our thanks to you and your people."
She reaches into the plain cloth bag she carries at her side, draws out a small object, and gives it to the girl. "Our men and women craft them," she explains, "around the fire, and sometimes come festival-times. One of our men brought them to Éomer-king from Edoras, after the roads were made safe. We should like your people to hang them in your houses as we do ours, should it please you, to remember the friendship of the Éorlingas."
The girl looks at the item: a simple circle, woven of straw. She cannot tell where the strands begin and end. In her hand it feels light but strong. She smiles.
"Thank you. I will."
"Be you well."
"Wait—a moment, my lady?"
The girl looks to be thinking hard about something. "Might I—might I give you something, in return?"
Éowyn is surprised, but she nods. The girl reaches into the small satchel at her side, and brings out a simple knife in a leather sheath.
"It's—" She looks a bit anxious now. "It was given me by one of the men of my country, a captain, after the Siege but before the Hosts departed. He said we were to be armed, even the women. I thought it was so that we could defend ourselves, but later I learned it wasn't for that." She pauses. "We were to keep them, so that we could die by our own hands, rather than by those of the Enemy."
Éowyn is silent for a few moments. Then she says, quietly, "I have wondered what manner of people you were, at times. High and fair, yes, and proud. Your pride takes a strange form, now and again."
"Yes," says the girl, and she smiles. "But I no longer have need of it." She holds out the knife.
Éowyn raises her eyebrows. "And you think that I do?"
"I—no." The girl shakes her head. "Not like that. But I was here. I heard the cries of that fell beast. We all did. It made it seem as though the world could end, just with that sound. And then I heard—" Éowyn is studying her intently, now, and the girl shifts a bit under her gaze, but goes on. "I heard that you stopped it, my lady. I don't know that I'm explaining very well. But I would like you to have this."
Éowyn considers the girl for a few moments more: a strange people, and yet she will cross the river to dwell in their lands. Then she nods slowly, and takes the knife from her, instinctively hefting it in her palm with a warrior's judgment. A good balance.
"I will have it from you, if I may also have a promise," she tells the girl. "We should all hope for peace, with all our hearts. Yet should war ever again assail you," she goes on, "you go to your death standing up, or not at all."
The girl blinks, taken aback. But then she says, "I promise."
"Very well." The knife disappears into Éowyn's bag.
"Safe journey, my lady." The girl begins to curtsey again, but then she hesitates for a moment and straightens up. She gives a salute her in the manner of her people, right hand over her heart.
Éowyn smiles, and then places a palm over her own heart in response. "Fear no darkness," she says. "Waes thu hael."
The heat lies thick on the upper circles. Aradîr wipes his brow, loosens the collar of his surcoat. The surgery corridor is quiet, today. Valacar is alone, cleaning up. When Aradîr knocks on the doorframe, the surgeon turns around and gives a visible start—Aradîr can't say that he's sorry about that.
"Have you taken to doing rounds, now?" Valacar asks him, setting down his towel.
Aradîr does not rise to the bait. "I've only come down to make a few inquiries," he says. "How is your apprentice?"
"Doing well; she learns quickly, and she's seen her fair share of blood, already. It might not be a bad idea to start them a few years older than sixteen, from now on. They're steadier on their feet."
"That can be taken up with the Warden," Aradîr nods. "I suppose we need not ask them to begin so young, this next generation. And how do the other men treat her?"
"They know her. They're polite."
"I suppose you see to that."
Valacar shrugs. "So does she." He picks up his towel again, but Aradîr does not move. "Is there anything else?"
"I was very sorry to hear about your apprentice—Laeron, I mean. My condolences, though they are late."
A pause. "Thank you."
"Were you close, the two of you?"
The other man's grey eyes narrow, though when next he speaks his voice is still level. "I hope you aren't implying anything."
"No," Aradîr says. As a younger man, he recalls, Valacar was never one for a fight, at least not with him. Now, he's quick to the defense—not that Aradîr can fault him for that. "I am not. I always assumed you would be a good teacher, patient as you are. Not like me."
Valacar blinks. "Thank you," he repeats, surprise in his voice, this time. "I enjoy it."
"Is this what you wanted, Valacar?"
"What do you mean? This?" He opens his palms to indicate the things around him—the towels, the washbasin, the table and the knives lined up on their tray like an array of miniature weapons. Which they are, Aradîr supposes. "No, not really. You know that. But this is what I have, and so I make the best of it. And I'd thank you not to interfere with that."
Aradîr shakes his head. "No. Did you want to be as you are, now?"
"Mildly disappointed, you mean? Alone?"
"I hadn't much of a choice, there."
Aradîr smiles a little. "You had the same choice that I did." He pauses. "But I suppose you always had too much affection for women, to get married."
"Me? Too little affection, you mean."
"Too much. For if there were any woman whom you favored sufficiently to court, you would certainly befriend her. And if she were a friend to you, indeed, you would hardly care to—" He pauses, considering his choice of words, and goes ahead, anyway. "To subject her to such a union." He shakes his head. "Too much affection. I could see that about you, right away."
Valacar pauses at that, and Aradîr imagines that he is trying to work out whether or not to take that last as a compliment. He probably will not; he's always been conservative, that way. "I take it you never had that reservation?"
Aradîr shrugs. "I knew what my ambitions were. And my duties."
"And what would those be?"
"Then? To sire an heir, of course, and to sit at council, as my father had. And now, to watch over the Houses. To protect their interests, and see that those within them can go about their work, the best that they are able."
Valacar should know that this is as close to an apology as he will ever hear of him, and if he is wise he will not press it any further.
"Very well, then," he says, quietly. Wise. Then: "How is your wife, Aradîr?" If there is no particular warmth in this question, neither is there any malice.
"She's fine, thank you. Happy to be settled at home, again."
They fall silent. Valacar stares at the floor. Aradîr is able to study him at his leisure; he recalls him as a young apprentice from Dol Amroth, thin and coltish, bewildered and wide-eyed in the heat of a City summer not unlike this one. Not there by choice; a book always in his hand the only outward sign of his defiance. A memory of desire flares up in him once more, and he allows himself to hold it up to the light and examine it. But only for a moment. He submerges it, as he does with a great many things.
Valacar looks up at him again.
"Be you well," says Aradîr, and he turns and walks down the corridor to his next appointment.
Her daughter sits in the kitchen and practices writing, her hand growing steadier with each page. The mother wants to shake her head, sometimes, at the distance her girl seems to have gotten from her in this short time. Scarcely had she returned from the coast with the boys, when her daughter had announced she would be putting in for an apprenticeship as a surgeon—the only girl, and the first. She is proud for her, and a little afraid.
What's more, she sometimes seems a different girl, altogether. Her voice is lower, and there is a sharpness in her mannerisms that was not there before. At times she falls into strange half-haunted reveries. She starts easily, and seems to hope that no one will notice. Her mother notices.
But then she will shake her head in wonder and dismay at all this, and then the girl she left behind at the Great Gate will be there once more, resolute and sweet in equal measures when she needs to be. She will be twenty soon.
She goes to the kitchen and kisses the top of her daughter's dark head. She was out buying candles today, and smells, not unpleasantly, of beeswax. She peers over her shoulder at the words she is writing.
"What is it today, dear one?" she asks.
Her daughter smiles. "Nothing much. Only some things that happened today. Some things that I saw at market." She pauses. "I can teach you, if you want, Mother." It's an offer she makes often, and always with the same earnestness. "I'm teaching the boys."
The mother laughs gently, as she always does. "Thank you, but I'm quite sure I'm too old for that, now." She never learned; never needed to. "I'll leave that to younger, quicker minds."
Her daughter, as always, protests that her mother is as young and quick as anyone. After a while she goes back to her writing, lost in some world of her own.
Later she leaves the paper to dry on the table. The mother will glance at it as she starts that evening's supper; another set of signs that are beyond her knowledge.
The Dwarf watches as his crew fits stone to white stone, carefully carving and shaping. Over the past months he has been able to see it taking form before his eyes, this new birth of the City. He has grown to love this place; not only for his friend who sits on the throne, but also in its own right. Often has he been doubtful of the works of Men, at least those which he has seen in his lifetime. Many times their craftsmen don't seem to respect their materials, trying to work against their grain, building their towers too high. Insufficiently rooted to the earth, he thinks. But this Númenorean city of Aragorn's and Boromir's is different. He has come to appreciate the way it embraces the mountain, and the strength with which it withstood the onslaught. On the cracked pieces of masonry he sometimes finds intact sections of scrollwork, carved patterns and faces. He will find a way to restore them.
A young boy stands off to the side; he's been there for a while, now, watching intently. The Dwarf beckons the lad over.
"May I help you, young master?" he asks.
"I'm just watching, sir. I like to see you Dwarves work; how do you move so quickly, with those heavy stones?"
He smiles. "Practice, I imagine." He holds out a hand. "Gimli, son of Gloin. At your service."
The lad's handshake is firm. "Bergil, son of Beregond, at yours, as well."
"Bergil." Gimli searches his memory. "I know that name. A friend of Peregrin Took, I believe?" Bergil nods, grinning. "And so, a friend of mine, as well."
"Thank you, sir! I was wondering," Bergil continues. "What your plans for this courtyard might be? I have an interest in it," he adds, somewhat cryptically.
"Well, let us see." Gimli unfolds a paper upon which he has made a number of detailed sketches. "Yes. A large fountain, in the center. 'Twere up to me and my fellows," he indicates the other Dwarves with a gesture, "we'd have nothing but good solid stonework, here. However, my friend informs me that there ought to be more trees in this City. More gardens," he says, a mild edge of skepticism in his voice. "And so there will be some grass here. We'll lay sod in beds in the stone, like this. And young trees, as well, at least four or five. Though that is all under the charge of my friend and his folk, so for more say on that, you shall have to ask him." He glances at the boy. "Does that please you, Master Bergil?"
"It does. Very much!"
Gimli smiles. "I am glad of it."
And he is. A little green to break up the expanses of white cannot be so bad, after all. A few leaves and shoots among the stone. So long as there is something strong, to guard it.
There is a new crop of apprentices in the Houses. Standing before Ioreth in the atrium are four girls and two boys, each around twelve or thirteen. Too young to have stayed for the Siege—except for the boys, she supposes, who might have stayed as message runners. These two did not. So; too young to have stayed for the Siege, but more than old enough to remember the Shadow in the years preceding it. They are still war children, Ioreth think. She wonders when children will come to her free of that wide-eyed and watchful look. She hopes she will live to see that day. She should, after all—she saw the King return, and so anything is possible, now.
Kindness, she tells them. Kindness, most of all. We will need your cleverness and your bravery and your strength. But most of all your kindness. And you have that in abundance; I can tell.
The children look at one another. A couple of them smile, first at one another, and then at her.
Better, Ioreth thinks.
"So, the rumors are true," Valacar says. "You're leaving us?"
"I suppose you could put it that way," Fíriel replies. It is a bright morning and they are walking on the Second Circle, their feet crunching on fresh snow. Their breaths show in ghostly plumes before them. "Though it sounds dire, like that." She smiles. "I'm only getting married, after all."
After the Siege, one of the men she'd come to know in the Houses was an Ithilien Ranger, wounded during his company's retreat to the walls before the Black Captain. A few years older than she, and widowed when he was quite young. No children. Not much for talking; he preferred to listen, and he did so with a patience that got her attention. Fíriel is quiet, herself, and guarded in no small part. But he managed to draw her out just a bit. And then a bit more, before he had gone off to the Black Gate. His departure was a bright shard of pain in her heart among the greater worry that took her.
He fought there and survived, and came back to Minas Tirith, and back to the Houses again and again over the following months. At a certain point, in fact, he had drawn her out so much, and she him, that both realized that they were simply content to stand together from now on.
"I never thought I'd get married," she says.
Valacar smiles. "And with the trappings of aristocracy, no less."
She rolls her eyes. "Hardly. That would be embarrassing. Captain—that is, the Lord Steward, has always been uncommon close to the men under his command. Saelas still refers to him as 'Captain Faramir,'" she adds, by way of explanation. "It's not surprising that Saelas would want him to do the ceremony, like others of his fellows who will be wed, nor that the Steward would consent. That's all. You will come, won't you?" she asks.
"I don't suppose I have much of a choice?"
She gives him a little shove. "No. You really don't."
They walk a few more paces in silence. He is looking at her and smiling.
"What?" she asks.
"I'm just trying to picture you in Ithilien. In the woods. You could live in a tent; maybe a cave, if this Ranger of yours is extravagant."
"I've about had it, with you. They've got houses in Ithilien, you know. And just as much need for healers as anywhere else in Gondor, I would imagine," she adds. "Perhaps more."
"And they'll be lucky to have such a one as you."
"Thank you," she nods.
"What am I going to do without you?" he asks, rather abruptly.
"What kind of a question is that?" she replies. "You sound as if I'll be going to far Harad, not an easy ride south. But you'll do what you've always done, I imagine: work yourself to the bone. Make people angry. Also, you've your apprentice to look after."
"Or, she looks after me. I can't decide which it is." He pauses. "Where are we going, anyhow?"
"Nowhere important. You'll see." She looks around. "Ah, perhaps we're here already."
"I'll miss you," he says, looking at her. The hood of his cloak is down around his shoulders, and he's got snow in his hair. He's still rather handsome, she thinks. She can see in him a trace of the listless, funny young man who caught her eye in the dim tavern light when she was a girl. A girl old beyond her years, it was true, but a girl nevertheless.
"And I'll miss you," she replies. And she will.
"Thank you."
"For what?" she asks, taken aback.
He shrugs. "For everything."
She takes his arm. "Then I should thank you, too. For everything." She pauses. "Yes, I believe we're here."
They're standing on a stretch of stone, bare except for its blanket of snow, near the end of an alley, close to the walls. He looks at her quizzically.
"Don't you remember?" she asks. "This was where we met. Or, rather, this was the site of that tinderbox of a tavern where we met."
He furrows his brow. "Is it, really? That was a long time ago."
"A different age, practically," she smiles, but the smile quickly fades. "Valar," she murmurs. "What a year we've had of it." She shakes her head. "At times I didn't think we'd live to see it out, that's for sure."
"No, me neither."
She stares at the clean snow, and thinks about the course of her life, surely as obscure and twisting as any warren of alleys on the lower circles. And if any part of it fills her with regret, she still cannot say that she wished it hadn't happened; for it has all brought her here, after all. And that is something remarkable.
Valacar's mind must be in the distant past, as well, for he says, "I always thought it would have been too damp to be a tinderbox, though. What a wretched place that was."
"You don't need to remind me of that," she smirks.
"I recall that it pleased me to no end to imagine what my father's reaction would have been, had he known his only son was frequenting such ill-reputed watering-holes."
"I suppose that's why you and your friends went there, to begin with."
"That, and the drinks were cheap."
She snorts. "The drinks were poison."
"Ah, well. They were both, then." He pauses. "Though I suppose it was a tinderbox, at the end, wasn't it? It must have gone up in flames, like most of the buildings in this quarter."
She tries to picture that. "Good," she says, and she takes his arm again and leads him away. Their footsteps remain for a little while, but then are covered with snow.
In winter, Elloth takes to lingering in the dispensary late into the evening. She lights the torches and spreads her mixing bowls out on the table. She can work for hours in the silence, letting the fragrances of herbs surround her as she distills and crushes and mixes. She enjoys watching things set, taking their final form. She's been trying a few new things.
One night her friend comes in—she knows where to find Elloth. The other girl's hands are freshly scrubbed, and if she was wearing a smock, she has removed it. Still, there are telltale splotches of red-brown on the front of her surcoat. Without preamble, she sits on a stool by Elloth's table and slumps forward, her arms folded on the wooden surface and her face in her arms.
"Don't upset my things," says Elloth, at which her friend reaches out and pokes blindly at the bottle nearest her. Elloth chooses to ignore this, and asks, "What was it, this time?"
"A lady in her confinement." Her friend's voice is muffled by the cloth of her sleeves. "She was bleeding something awful. The midwife frighted, and sent to the Houses for help."
"Mother and babe are resting well enough, now, though both are quite weak. Valacar says that if they make it through the next few days, they will probably be all right." She takes her face out of her arms, then, and looks up at Elloth with shadowed, red-rimmed eyes. "I am never having children."
Elloth smirks. "Never say never." She leans over to check on a mass of leaves which are soaking nearby, dipping a finger into the bowl to try their texture. "Was it a boy, or a girl?"
"Was it—oh," her friend rubs her eyes. "It was a little boy. Her first child."
Elloth is silent for a few moments, then says, "I hear that in the Riddermark, it is custom to spread out a number of objects before a baby boy when he's six months of age. Seven, for girls. The first thing that the child reaches for is said to be his interest for life."
"Really?" Her friend considers this. "Where did you hear that?"
"Ceorth," Elloth says.
"Ceorth?" The other girl straightens up, interested. "When were you talking to him?"
"We talk quite often, actually."
"Do you?" her friend says. "I like him."
Elloth nods. "So do I. I daresay I might like him more than you do."
Elloth only smiles.
"So, what was the first thing he reached for when he was six months old?"
"Oh, a little wooden horse, I think it was. Most of them do, I would imagine." She pauses. "He's been spending a good deal of time with one of the stable-masters. He says they may yet devise some way to let him ride, again."
"That's good news." Her friend smiles, and takes a clean wooden cup from the shelf and helps herself to the pitcher of fresh water that the herbalists always keep handy in the dispensary. Normally, Elloth would take her to task for this presumption, but she is in high spirits.
"Ceorth," her friend repeats, still smiling. "I wouldn't have thought…" She stops herself.
"You wouldn't have thought what?"
"It's nothing."
"No. Say it."
Her friend shrugs, apologetic. "It's just that I wouldn't have thought you would like someone like him. You always seemed to—you want things to be…"
"Perfect?" Elloth finishes for her. There is no anger in her voice, only contemplation. The friend inclines her head in tacit agreement. "I still do," Elloth continues. "But perhaps I have different ideas about the meaning of the word, now. What does it matter to me that he's missing a leg, save that maybe it will take him longer to learn how to dance once more?"
Her friend nods, her smile wider, now, though her eyes are still tired. Elloth waits for her to raise her cup to her lips.
"Besides," she adds, "I can assure you that all the rest of him is quite sound." Then she watches, pleased, as the other girl struggles mightily not to spit out her drink.
In mid-morning, an overburdened pulley rope on the Fifth Circle snaps, and a heavy block of stone falls to the pavement and cracks. No one is hurt, but the sound can be heard all the way up on the next circle, in the surgery where an apprentice is sharpening a bone-saw. She starts at the noise, and the instrument slips, the teeth catching at the underside of her left forearm. Her whetstone falls to the floor, in echo of the greater accident that has just happened.
She tends to the cut, herself; when her teacher comes in, she has wrapped her arm in a clean cloth which is quickly turning red. She braces it awkwardly against her body for pressure. With her right hand she unwinds a roll of bandages.
"Valar, what happened?" he asks.
"The saw slipped," she says.
"Sit down. Let me see." She does, pressing on the cloth with her right hand even as he unwraps the portion closest to her wrist.
"It's mostly just the skin," she says.
"You're right," he says, after a moment. "Does it need stitches?"
She leans over, peers at the wound, and shakes her head. "Not deep enough. The edges are close together, too."
"Very good." He wraps the cloth again, holds it for her to maintain the pressure; it doesn't take much effort, her arm is so small in his hands. "As your surgeon, your pulse is a bit fast for my liking. What should I tell you to do?"
She takes a breath through her nose, deep and slow. Then another one. "That's right," he says. "Where should your hand be?" She bends her elbow and puts her forearm parallel to her body, her hand facing up. Together they wait for her heart to slow and for the bleeding to stop.
"What were you doing?" he chides her after a few moments. "That was close to your wrist. You have to be careful. You know that."
"There was a noise," she says, quietly. "I started."
"I still start easily, sometimes, after all this time. Especially when I'm alone." He says nothing.
She grimaces in pain. "Am I the sort of girl you trust with a knife, Valacar?"
The heel of his hand is smudged red. Soon they can clean the wound, and tie on a proper bandage. She might want to have a sling for it, for a little while, to keep it steady. Nevertheless, it is her left arm, so she will still be able to work, if she wants to. She will want to, he thinks. Even if she does not know it yet. He thinks he can see the young woman she is already becoming: unflinching, steady of heart and hand. Brave.
"You are," he says. "Believe me."
The young woman lifts her skirts to her ankles, then to her knees, and wades into the river. The young man who's with her says, "Be careful."
"Don't worry."
"Isn't it cold?"
"It's not too bad."
The banks of the Anduin are thronged with people; they are gathered here because one year ago today, there was a day with no dawn. Now it is dusk, and when the sun sets they harbor no fear that it will not rise tomorrow.
The young man lights a candle, and then lights a second off of its flame. All around him, the people of Minas Tirith are doing the same: then slowly lowering the lights inside lanterns. They are simple paper things, stretched over light wooden frames. Most important is the base.
The sides of the lanterns both mute the candlelight and enlarge its reach. The sides glow a soft yellow, like strange square moons you can hold on your palm.
"Now?" someone asks.
"I think so. Now."
One by one, they lower their lanterns to the surface of the river. They bob in the current, but stay afloat, flimsy as they are: most important is the base. They move along the water in groups, moving apart and then coming back together, casting their reflections downwards as if sounding the depths. The young woman watches them go by her knees.
"Do you want yours, now?" the man asks her. She says she does, and he hands her a lit lantern from his place on the bank. By now this part of the river is glowing. She holds her lantern by its edges and touches it to the water, feels the current moving beneath her hands. She holds it, and then she lets it go. She watches it as it drifts away, joining the others.
"Now yours?" she asks. To her surprise, he removes his shoes, rolls up his trousers and joins her.
He curses as his feet hit the river bottom. "You said it wasn't cold."
"I said it wasn't bad."
He takes his lantern from the bank. "This one's for Tarondor," he tells her.
"He'd like that," she says. That is how it goes, today. One candle for every life that the Darkness snuffed out a year ago. For the ones who will not move forward with the turning of the year; the ones, she thinks, who will be twenty years old forever.
Someone has been sitting in rooms and courtyards, counting, making sure the numbers are adequate. She's not sure who, but it's Minas Tirith, after all. That's how things work.
He places his lantern in the river. He keeps his gaze on it as it drifts away from him, as it masses with the others. He watches it as it grows smaller and smaller, and finally until it disappears around a bend. He is pleased to see that the light does not go out. He puts his arm around the woman beside him, holds her tightly against him. She leans into him, her head against his chest, listening to his heart beat.
Recently she's taken to studying maps; there's something about them that she loves. She tries to picture the course of the Anduin, and the journey of the lights. They will travel south, she knows, past the stark ruins of Osgiliath and the hills of Emyn Arnen, and from there through the forests of South Ithilien. And though she knows that the candles will all have burned down by this time, she also images them floating west, down past Pelargir and the Poros, winding through the braided mouths of the Anduin. And perhaps, just perhaps, a few solitary lights will make it to the sea, bobbing in salt water as the tide takes them out. They will pass out of the shore's sight.
And from there, who knows?
For now, they are here on this section of the river that runs through the Pelennor, and the water is crowded with lights. The people speak in hushed tones, their voices nearly overmastered by that of the current.
The man and woman climb out of the river and sit on the bank. Slowly the crowd begins to disperse, people drifting off in couples or small groups as most of the lights go round the bend.
A few lanterns remain, yet. She sits silently, watching the last lights float away. Night is falling, now. In calmer patches the surface of the river will mirror the stars, unmoving, where the fallible little candles once floated. Still, she will wait for the last lantern to disappear into the darkness. Only then will she get up and put her shoes on, walk back across the field, now beginning to grow green once more, and through the Great Gate. Up the steps to the house she shares with her mother and her brother and cousin. And then to bed, and tomorrow, back to work, for there is still much to be done.
But for now, she waits. And Beren waits beside her.
This is a work of fan fiction, written because the author has an abiding love for the works of J R R Tolkien. The characters, settings, places, and languages used in this work are the property of the Tolkien Estate, Tolkien Enterprises, and possibly New Line Cinema, except for certain original characters who belong to the author of the said work. The author will not receive any money or other remuneration for presenting the work on this archive site. The work is the intellectual property of the author, is available solely for the enjoyment of Henneth Annûn Story Archive readers, and may not be copied or redistributed by any means without the explicit written consent of the author.


text:
14 of 41 Items
Volume 2: Israel Putnam.
Emmet, Thomas Addis
A New Nation: The Thomas Addis Emmet Collection of Illustrations Relating to the American Revolution and Early United States History
Stephen A. Schwarzman Building / Print Collection, Miriam and Ira D. Wallach Division of Art, Prints and Photographs
All Any
Image ID: 424916
Geo. Augustus 3rd Viscount Howe ob. 1758 / Swaine
(ca. 1780-1890)
Permalink (click to copy):
Embed this image (click code)

subset: commoncrawl


text:
This was presumably achieved because the kernel was cheaper and better in every way compared to the competition.
And thats the challenge to the graphics people. Can they create an ecosystem that can sustain itself and be attractive for companies or whatever to put their money on?
Wayland is getting some attention. Intel is employing the main dev and nokia people hack on it. Also they got meego running on it but thats only part of the graphic stack. Mesa/G3D needs to find a way of becoming more attractive.


text:
Diversity continues to be a goal for many companies, and today they are looking for talented workers who can help their business.
Here is a list of 14 companies with active recruitment campaigns to hire diverse job seekers.
1. Catholic Health Initiatives:
2. Wallgreens:
3. Harris Teeter:
View Employer >>
View Employer >>


text:
The Bishop Broncos basketball teamŌĆÖs record went to 6-2 with a 61-54 win over the visiting Mineral County Serpents Tuesday night.
The game wasnŌĆÖt as tight as the score reflects; Bishop was the stronger of the two teams from the tip-off. But, like the Lady BroncosŌĆÖ game, coach Ben Arcularius opted to give his bench varsity playing time and build up the depth of the Broncos squad in preparation for league action.
The Serpents got the tip-off but Andrea Musumeci swept in for the steal and Bishop was the first with points on the board.
Bishop had a 9-2 lead mid-way through the first quarter but the Serpents crept back to within 2 points. Ty Tucker sank a 3-pointer, deflating Mineral CountyŌĆÖs surge and Bishop ended the quarter with a 14-10 lead.
Anthony Martinez opened up the second quarter with a bucket; Musumeci hit from the free throw line to give Bishop a 17-11 lead, but then the Serpents took over with 11 unanswered points to take away the lead at 17-22. With 48 seconds on the clock, Thomas Montoya sank a foul shot, Tucker pulled down a rebound and Bishop converted on the turnover, but Mineral County went into the half-time locker room with a 20-24 lead.
Musumeci and Carl Olsen went to the free throw line early in the third quarter to bring the Broncos within 1 point at 23-24; then Martinez secured a Bishop lead with a basket and a hit from the foul line.
Mineral County would re-take the lead 26-27, but didnŌĆÖt have very long to savor it as Montoya scored on a put back. The Serpents would flirt with the lead through the final 3 minutes of the quarter, but it was BishopŌĆÖs game from that point on.
The Broncos led 41-35 going into the fourth quarter. The Serpents were successful from the free throw line, but the Bishop defense shut them down. Mineral County tried slowing the game but just ended up with turnovers as the shot clock ran down.
Martinez was on fire on both sides of the court, scoring points on offensive runs and defensive fouls.
Elliot Hastie put up the final Bishop bucket with 42 seconds on the clock. Mineral hit a foul shot, snagged the rebound and got 2 more points on the board before the buzzer.
The boys junior varsity squad rallied after going into the second half 4 points behind the Serpents. Bishop outscored Mineral County 26-7 in the third quarter to go on for the 61-45 win.
The Broncos varsity squad heads north for the Whittell tournament today. After a two-week break, Bishop hosts the Christmas Classic starting Dec. 26.
Anthony Martinez: 17 pts., 12 rebs.
Thomas Montoya: 12 pts., 5 rebs.
Andrea Musumeci: 12 pts., 3 steals
River Mallory: 5 pts.
Ty Tucker: 5 pts.
Junior Varsity
Sean Brown: 14 pts., 15 rebs., 9 steals
Andrew Allen: 11 pts., 7 rebs.
Anthony Miller: 8 pts., 8 rebs., 4 assists
Anthony Vega: 7 pts., 7 rebs.
Daniel Olsen: 5 pts., 2 assists, 2 steals
Chucky Keller: 2 pts., 8 rebs.
The Bishop Lady Broncos basketball squad had a tough road trip for tournament action in Reno late last week, but made up for it in spades Tuesday night at home against the Mineral County Lady Serpents.
Despite a rough full-court press by the Serpents, the Broncos nailed the 52-32 win, holding on to the lead for all but a minute of play in the second quarter when the Serpents went ahead 16-17 from the free throw line. The Broncos answered with a 12-point run to end the half 28-18 and never looked back.
ŌĆ£All the ladies were able to get significant playing time,ŌĆØ said coach Brian Pennington. ŌĆ£Six of the 10 girls scored and all contributed to the victory.ŌĆØ
Maria Jimenez put up the first points for the Broncos; the Serpents answered then went into their press but couldnŌĆÖt convert on the turnover, which was pretty much the theme for the night.
Half-way through the first quarter the score stood at 10-6 and stayed there until the final seconds when Tamia Shoshone added 2 to extend BishopŌĆÖs lead 12-6 at the buzzer.
The Serpents came out tough in the second quarter, tying the game 12-12 off two 3-pointers. The lead changed sides until the clock showed 3:13 with Mineral County ahead 16-17. Brooke Callahan scored and seemed to uncork the bucket bottle. The Broncos put up 10 more points in the next three minutes of play.
The Serpents tried to control the timing of the game under BishopŌĆÖs net, but werenŌĆÖt effective in taking away the BroncosŌĆÖ momentum. BishopŌĆÖs defense held Mineral County scoreless until the final seconds when a Serpent landed a free throw.
The score at the half: 28-18.
The third quarter was all Bishop. The defense held the Serpents to 2 points, both from the free throw line, while the offense ticked off 7 more points.
Ahead by 15 at 35-20 going into the final eight minutes of play, Bishop went on an impressive points run, adding 15 while holding the Serpents to 4. With three minutes left in the game, Bishop held a 50-24 lead.
Mineral County launched a minor surge in the final minute of play, but it was too little, too late and the Broncos claimed the win, 52-32.
The Lady Broncos are on the road for the Whittel Tournament today through Saturday.
JŌĆÖNise Evans: 2 steals, 1 block
Beatrice Ramirez: 1 reb.
Sabrina Barlow: 2 pts., 2 rebs., 2 assists, 1 block
Cienna Martinez: 4 pts., 3 rebs., 2 assists, 1 block
Brooke Callahan: 10 pts., 12 rebs., 2 assists, 1 seal, 2 blocks
Kailey Parker: 1 steal
Little Eva Lent: 4 pts., 6 rebs., 1 steal, 1 block
Tamia Shoshone: 19 pts., 6 rebs., 4 assists, 4 steals, 1 block
Maria Jimenez: 13 pts., 6 rebs., 1 assist, 1 steal
Junior Varsity
Bishop 14 vs
Mineral County 22
Rubee Manuelito: 3 pts.
Hannah Frankson: 5 pts., 2 rebs.
Kali Campbell: 2 pts., 4 rebs.
Christina Solis: 2 pts.


text:
Storm Alert
Humidity 38%
Winds 12.7mph
Sponsored by: Desert Diamond Casino
Humidity 38%
Winds 12.7mph
Put News 4 Tucson Meteorologist Jeff Beamish On the Spot!
Will there be rain on your wedding day? Will storms put your golf game in jeopardy? Put Jeff On the Spot - upload or e-mail Jeff with a picture or video for your upcoming plans, and tell us where and when you need a forecast.
Watch Jeff on News 4 Tucson Today, weekdays 5 AM to 7 AM and put him on the spot!
1 month ago


text:
New Era EK
New Era's EK Collection is designed for the fashion trailblazers of our time. Drawing inspiration from the same design elements their founder Ehrhardt Koch used, this collection blends the distinction of key fashion eras with the hottest styles of today. Whether you're hanging in or stepping out, the New Era EK Collection is handcrafted to fit your lifestyle.
By blending basic fedoras, driving/ivy, newsboy and pub/duckbill cap styles with some different patterns and materials, each hat takes on it's own attitude and style, carrying with it an air of individuality that lets you make a statement every time you step outside your door.
New Era EK Finn Bucketcolor:
Liberty Fabric Bucket Hat
Regular Price: $49.00
Special Price: $28.00
New Era Ek Quinn Drivercolor:
Camo Flat CapPrice: $49.00
New Era EK Quinn Fedoracolor:
Stingy Brim FedoraPrice: $69.00
New Era EK Finn Fedoracolor:
Stingy Brim Fedora
Regular Price: $59.00
Special Price: $43.00
New Era EK Runtycolor:
Classic Pub CapPrice: $39.00 As low as: $18.00
New Era EK Theacolor:
Contemporary FedoraPrice: $59.00
New Era EK Cardencolor:
Contemporary Linen FedoraPrice: $54.00
New Era EK Sycamorecolor:
Cotton Ivy CapPrice: $49.00
New Era EK Bensen Drivercolor:
Linen Driving CapPrice: $39.00
New Era EK Brimley Duckcolor:
Contemporary Pub CapPrice: $39.00
New Era EK Bensen Duckcolor:
Linen Pub CapPrice: $39.00
New Era EK Bensen Fedoracolor:
Contemporary Linen TrilbyPrice: $49.00


text:
Real Czech amateurs invite you into their private lives! We pick only the best home videos they send us, with young pairs having fun outside, in their living rooms and bedrooms, at parties, dressing rooms and public toilets... You'll see Czech everyday life from a whole new perspective - beautiful girls filmed by their real boyfriends. Enjoy! And, as always here at CZECH AV, our creed still stands : No script, no fakes! This is reality!
38min 23sec
39min 06sec
43min 09sec
47min 18sec
34min 33sec
42min 35sec
36min 13sec


text:
Qigong For Stress Relief DVD
Featuring internationally-renowned instructors Francesco Garripoli and Daisy Lee-Garripoli
Qigong ("chee gung") is an ancient Eastern practice widely used in China as a healing tool. More and more Americans are begining to search for natural ways to release stress and tension and to promote healing.
Gaiam's Qigong for Stress Relief, taught by internationally renowned instructors Francesco Garripoli and Daisy Lee-Garripoli, is a 30-minute Qigong exercise program featuring the 10 best exercises for reducing stress. It is specifically designed to promote relaxation. Meditative movements, focused breathing and visualization techniques relieve stress symptoms and boost resilience quickly and effectively.
Suitable for all fitness levels, practicing Qigong can help melt away physical tension, energize the body and build the immune system.


text:
JACOBS Caffe Crema Sanft and Mild
You may add this item permanently to any of your Auto Delivery orders or create a new order. Enjoy the convenience of home delivery on a schedule you choose. Changes are easy to make at any time. Learn More
(you can edit your frequency in cart)
The selected variant is not available for Auto-Delivery.
- This package includes 16 JACOBS Caffe Crema Sanft and Mild T DISCS, so you can get a cup of delight with fine bubbles perfectly prepared any time you desire
- This T DISC makes a 5 fl oz cup of coffee
How to Make It
- Place your mug (6 fl oz) on the cup stand.
- Insert the JACOBS® Caffe Crema Sanft and Mild T DISC into the brewer; when the green Auto light comes on, press the button.
- Allow the mug to fill.
- As it finishes, your TASSIMO machine gives an extra shot of air to create the delicate bubbles of crema.
About the TASSIMO System
TASSIMO Knows.
The TASSIMO Single Cup Brewing System by Bosch uses INTELLIBREWTM to make sure every coffee, tea, cappuccino, latte, mocha, espresso, or hot chocolate taste exactly the way they are supposed to. Every single time.
This Intelligent Barcode Technology measures the right amount of water, the right brewing time and the right temperature to make every beverage you brew, whether it is coffee, tea, or specialty drinks consistent and perfect with each touch of a button.
You see, each T DISC pod has a barcode that contains special instructions for every beverage. TASSIMO is the only single cup brewer with INTELLIBREWTM to read these instructions and make your beverages exactly how they are meant to be.
And you can even manually control the strength of your drink with the press of a button. Brewed to perfection and brewed just the way you like it.
It's the smarter way to brew. You'll wonder why you haven't switched from a regular coffee maker to a TASSIMO sooner!
Recently Viewed
Product Q&A
Ask your questions. Share your answers.
what is crema?
But it is from the coffee bean, not from any milk product.
Hope this helps!
Jacobs Caffe Crema Mild has been backordered for months. Do you think you will ever have it in stock again?
is jacobs caffe crema decaf?
What is Caffe Crema's calorie count?
Why don't you offer Starbucks coffee anymore?
But, Tassimo has wonderful news. The Gevalia brand has three new "X-tra Bold" coffee selection T Discs. They've been created especially for those coffee lovers who prefer a dark, bold and invigorating coffee experience. Each of these exciting new blends is made with 100 percent Arabica beans that are precisely roasted to a deep richness:
• Dark Breakfast Blend – a clean and light-bodied selection with a vibrant hint of citrus to put pep in your step … any time of day.
• Dark House Blend – a dark-roasted, medium-bodied selection with hints of fruit and vibrant acidity.
• Dark Italian Roast – A full-bodied selection that's both sharp and intense, with slightly sweet caramel undertones. This is our most complex and hearty blend.
All three new Gevalia varieties are available at Tassimodirect.com and in retail stores.
Looking for Something New?
Try one of our favorites


text:
For some reason I read "Red Hat's Plymouth sees New York" the first time...
It was only after I read the article that I realized it is "New Work", not "New York" :P
Phoronix: Red Hat's Plymouth Sees New Work
Not a lot of work has gone into Red Hat's Plymouth project since the release of Fedora 10, but now in the middle of the development cycle of Fedora 11 we are seeing some new work emerge. Plymouth is a boot splash program that leverages kernel mode-setting to provide a rich, flicker-free boot experience...
For some reason I read "Red Hat's Plymouth sees New York" the first time...
It was only after I read the article that I realized it is "New Work", not "New York" :P
Atm there's not really a lot of documentation out there (I've read doc in the git tree), so excuse me, if I ask:
Which files exactly would one have to tune to get it to work with let's say Debian?
I'd like to give it a try (in fact I've got modesetting working here nearly without issues) but I realize that changing the boot-process of a system doesn't seem to be an easy task (at least if you are not involved into such stuff).
Are there any plans for Debian?
(No, I'm not asking about Ubuntu and their upstart.)
Upstart is actually a replacement for the SystemV init system. Plymouth is more parallel to ubuntu's Usplash.
In many ways it feels as though plymouth is a very small upside from kms. The wayland project on the other hand seems like it can make a real difference in the users experience after the brief boot window.
Ideally, the transition from the boot splash animation to the login screen should be as seamless as possible.
Will KMS utilize more graphics modes so that we don't have, for example, a 1024x768 splash screen followed by a 1280x800 X Server login screen?
Well KMS certainly is seemless, but my understanding is the display modes don't necessarily need to change.
One really nice change will be running X without giving it root priviledges.


text:
Photo by Daniel Kramer
Sean Wilentz discusses his biography of 2009 National Medal of Arts recipient Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan in America. [28:33]
Photo courtesy of Arena Stage
Charles Randolph-Wright talks about directing Lynn Nottage's play Ruined at Arena Stage. [29:39]
Photo by Colin Hovde
Howard Shalwitz talks about the theater company's production of the Pulitzer Prize-winning play by Bruce Norris, Clybourne Park. [22:47]
Photo by Ben Collier
The great jazz writer Gary Giddins talks about the great jazz legend Duke Ellington. [34:38]
Photo by Alex Brook Lynn
Poet Cristin O'Keefe Aptowicz talks about slam poetry and community. [22:05]
Photo by Tom Pich
Jazz Master Randy Weston talks about the music he loves. [26:06]


text: TC Williams High School Reunion and Alumni Information, Class of 1989 Reunion Home Update/Confirm Address Date & Location Ticket Information Bio Sheet Purchase a Bio-Book Ad School Scrapbook Contact Info FAQ's TC Williams High School Class of 1989 Reunion For more information on your reunion, click any of the links below. Date & Location Click here to find the date and location of your reunion, as well as to book your hotel room. Ticket Information/Click Here to Order Tickets Click here to purchase your reunion tickets, as well as a bio book. Bio-Book Click here to submit your bio for your reunion's bio-book. Or click here to advertise in a bio-book. School Scrapbook Click here to view your class list. Contact Info Click here to obtain additional information or to ask us questions. FAQ's This section contains frequently asked questions (FAQ's) about the reunion. TC Williams High School Alexandria, VA Bookmark this page for TC Williams High School reunion and alumni information for the Class of 1989. 1-800-655-7971 | Copyright © 2012, Great Reunions. All rights reserved.


text:
Maybe, but them being a really close and good friend who he trusts that also attends Panther games in the owners box.
You know how close they are? lol
It's almost like JR intentially developed that relationship so he could use it as leverage to extort the city and state for money.
But nahhhh... my beloved JR would never do anything like that.


text:
Insoo Kang MD
Associate Professor of Medicine (Rheumatology); Course Director, Rheumatology Grand Rounds
Departments & Organizations
Stem Cell Center, Yale
Skin Diseases Research Center, Yale
Internal Medicine: Interstitial Lung Disease Program | Rheumatology
Research Interests
Human T cell biology; Immunosenescence; Autoimmunity more...
- M.D., Hallym University, 1990
Selected Publications
- MS Shin, Y Kang, NE Lee, ER Wahl, SH Kim, KS Kang, R Lazova and I Kang. 2013. Self dsDNA induces IL-1ß production from human monocytes by activating NLRP3 inflammasome in the presence of anti-dsDNA antibodies. J Immunol 190:1407-1415. PMCID: PMC3563755
- SW Kang, SH Kim, NE Lee, WW Lee, KA Hwang, MS Shin, SH Lee, WU Kim and I Kang. 2012. 1,25(OH)2 vitamin D3 promotes FOXP3 expression via binding to vitamin D response elements in its conserved non-coding sequence region. J Immunol 188:5276-5282. PMCID: PMC3358577
- M Shin, Y Kang, N Lee, S Kim, K Kang, R Lazova and I Kang. 2012. U1-snRNP activates the NLRP3 inflammasome in human monocytes. J. Immunol 188:4769-75. PMCID: PMC3347773


text:
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
Revell's Rembrandt
Leynnwood was a teacher at Art Center, where I went to school, but I don't think the school administration valued him enough at the time. In my day, the only place he taught gouache painting was at off-campus seminars, where I had the privilege of watching him paint a demo of a red car.
In 1965, the Revell company turned to Leynnwood to paint the box cover for their model of the Army Air Force B-24D.
When Revell switched to using photos instead of paintings on their boxes, I lost interest in plastic models. I didn't want truth in advertising. I wasn't just buying a box of plastic parts. I was buying the whole fantasy. And no one understood how to deliver that fantasy that better than Jack Leynnwood.
Read more about this painting and the aircraft shown at The Box Art Den, link.
15 comments:
- jeff jordan said...
As you said, Jim, I, too bought into the whole fantasy on Revell kit boxes. I spent hours and hours attempting to copy those images, and count them as as huge influence. I'm still a great admirer of aircraft art, although at this point I think the whole genre has been run into the ground--no pun intended.
Thanks for another great post, Jim!
- May 12, 2009 at 11:53 AM
- Frank P. Ordaz said...
You are shocking my fading memory synapses. I remember LynnWood and seeing him demonstrate. He was one of the more sane individuals there .
- May 12, 2009 at 12:15 PM
- craigstephens said...
I remember those models and the images on the boxes from my youth as well. The painted images definitely sold them in my eyes. I sometimes wouldn't even build the things but I loved those boxes!
- May 12, 2009 at 12:33 PM
- Scott Murphy said...
I agree, so many of those boxes made me really want to buy the model. Those beautiful paintings were a big introduction for me to illustration and realism as a kid. Long before art classes in high school! They definitely made me realize the potential of art as a real career. It's a shame that things like this always turn to photography out of convenience...I feel the same way about National Geographic too. Thanks for the reminder of this dying art form!
- May 12, 2009 at 12:39 PM
- Jeremy Elder said...
Yup, it is so sad that photos replaced the amazing illustrations that used to be the bulk of advertising. Not only are there less jobs for talented illustrators to fight over, but art is slipping from mainstream culture. I love going to other countries and seeing their hand painted signs.
- May 12, 2009 at 1:16 PM
- Random York said...
Amen Jim
- May 12, 2009 at 1:56 PM
- Jeff Z said...
Ohmigosh, thanks! I used to build tons of these models, and I always cut the covers off these boxes and hang them on my walls because they're so gorgeous. Nice to have a name to attach to the art!
- May 12, 2009 at 3:56 PM
- scott said...
I liked Roy Huxley myself, but his stuff was a bit looser:
- May 12, 2009 at 4:21 PM
- S. Weasel said...
I wouldn't mind reading a lot more about gouache technique. It's a booger of a difficult medium, and those commercial artists of the mid-Twentieth Century could really make it sing.
- May 12, 2009 at 5:33 PM
- Johan Derycke said...
Oh my... it's been about 25 years I think since I last saw one of these boxes. Used to decorate my room with them :)
In those days I was really looking forward to birthdays and such, coz I knew I'd get another box as a gift.
- May 13, 2009 at 1:28 AM
- jeff f said...
Man does that bring back memories.
I too was a avid model builder.
I had the Battle of Britain on my ceiling complete with cotton for clouds. I built Focke-Wulfes 109's and Spitfires and used the covers to help guide me when painting the models.
- May 13, 2009 at 1:55 AM
- Pete said...
I was a sucker for great box art too! I wonder if sales fell off when they switched to photos?
I also loved the diorama instructions by the great Shep Paine that where in the Monogram models. He handled those scenes much like an illustrator would. He has a new book coming out: http://www.sheperdpaine.com/
- May 13, 2009 at 10:30 AM
- Terry Daniels said...
How odd that I never made the connection between my current occupation (art) and my favorite childhood pastime. Maybe it's because as a kid, fantasy was such a regular part of life that I never considered the box art as a product of someone's skill and work? And yet, I too remember disappointment when model companies stopped using paintings on the boxes.
I remember Hasegawa had some good paintings on their boxes - really dynamic stuff. The models of Bf 109s usually featured backgrounds of African desert, or waves of Allied bombers.
I'll have to check out the link in depth!
- May 13, 2009 at 3:49 PM
- Anthony said...
Jack Leynnwood was one of the most influential teachers I had at Art Center in the early 1980s. The techniques I learned from his Marker Indication for Storyboarding class were put to use directly after graduation to support me and eventually my family as a commercial storyboard artist. I miss his dry humor and occasional off-color jokes.
Interestingly, he once commented in our class that if he had to do it all over again, he would have been a film major. I don't know if he really meant it or if he was just showing a little mercy to all us film majors who were forced to take his class. (I was an illustration major before that, so I loved it; but I felt bad for my fellow film types who absolutely couldn't draw but had to take the class nevertheless.) Thanks for reminding me of him, he was wonderful.
- May 13, 2009 at 8:39 PM
- enb said...
thats so fascinatingly true- I had never thought of it that way- nor during my time of building models- did I ever imagine my modeling skills even approaching the level of the professional model makers on display. As you, and many of your readers, I too discontinued the building. Which was something I now see as a sad day.
- May 18, 2009 at 2:27 PM


text:
Latest Books
Contact Us
Read book reviews
Register with Sala@m
Why register?
Forgotten your password?
Blogs: Fancy that!, Others...
Muslims in Britain: Who's who, Inventory of arrests...
Knowledge: Archives, Biographies...
Secret State
Downloads: Tafsir, Nasheeds...
Tadabbur-e-Qur'an by Amin Ahsan Islahi (translated by Mohammad Saleem Kayani) invites the reader to ponder and reflect on the message of the Qur'an. It is based on the principle of nazm or coherence and refutes the oft-repeated allegation that the Holy Book lacks order and continuity.
The revival and power of religious feelings among Muslims since the Iranian revolution presents a complicated and often perplexing picture of the politics of modern Islam. What are the ideas which have influenced the direction of these trends?
Here, Hamid Enayat provides an answer by describing and interpreting some of the major Islamic political ideas, especially those expressed by Iranians and Egyptians, as well as thinkers from Pakistan, India, Lebanon, Syria and Iraq.
The Prophet Muhammad taught the word of God to the Arabs. Within a generation of his death, his followers - as vivid a cast of heroic individuals as history has known - had exploded out of Arabia to confront the two great superpowers of the seventh-century and establish Islam and a new civilization...The Heirs of the Prophet Muhammad recounts the lives of the handful of individuals - the first four Caliphs, the Prophet's widows and the conquering generals - who led and influenced Islam after the death of Muhammad. Their dazzling achievements are thrillingly chronicled, but so too are the conflicting ambitions that led to civil war.
Only Half of Me is the profoundly moving account on being a Muslim in Britain: the author's own childhood and his attempt to straddle the world of his parents and that of his own, Western generation.


text:
Login Instructions:
1. Enter your KBA Attorney number in the first field (Username)
2. Enter your password in the second field.
(Your password will either be your date of birth in the form 01/01/19xx or the password you have assigned yourself.)
3. Click on the "Log In" button
Optionally, you may check the "Remember Login" box before logging in and the site will not require you to login on subsequent visits. Note: This remembered password is stored on your system.
If you have forgotten your password and we have an up-to-date email address for you, you may enter your KBA Attorney number in the first field (Username) and then click on "Password Reminder"
If you continue to have difficulty you may contact the Kentucky Bar Association at (502) 564-3795 or send an email to firstname.lastname@example.com


text:
Centennial Group
Other Important Links:
Local Government
The Centennial Group of the Georgia Chapter of the Sierra Club was organized in 1992, the one hundredth anniversary of the Sierra Club. Our members from Cobb, Cherokee, and North Fulton counties volunteer to educate, help, and encourage our fellow citizens to protect Georgia?? "!s environment for our children, grandchildren, and beyond.
We meet on the first Thursday of each month at Life University. We host a variety of programs relating to our goals or simply about Georgia's natural beauties. We also hold free outings for members and nonmembers.
Join our Email List to Receive Information About Meetings and Events To subscribe to the Centennial E-List and receive meeting reminders and the latest Group news, click on the "Subscribe" link below. Your preferred computer email program will prepare a message to send a request to subscribe to our mailing list. It is not necessary to fill in the Subject line. Just click send as you would usually do. If your reqest is sucessful, you will recieve a email response.
The Centennial Group is now on Facebook!!
Then click the Like button to become a friend and get updates and information.


text:
The page you requested cannot be found at this location. Please select one of the links below to return to our website:
You can also use Search in the top right of this page to help you find the information you need. Regards,Aeryon's Web Team
Upcoming Events List
Copyright © 2015 Aeryon Labs Inc. - All rights reserved. Aeryon, Aeryon Labs, Scout, SkyRanger are trademarks of Aeryon Labs Inc.


text:
Create your own fluffy wool butterflies. A 7-year-old child with a little help can easily do this project. Younger children will need adult supervision. Fluffy butterflies can be used as spring decorations, party favors, or wearable art. Made in the USA.
Kit includes step by step photo instructions and materials to make six butterflies.
WARNING: CHOKING HAZARD - Small Parts. Not for children under 3 years.
This project was first published by Living Crafts Magazine, Spring 2008 issue.


text:
Populus tremuloides
Growing in springy area on west face of Mount Olympus (due west of the peak), Salt Lake County, Utah.
Elevation: 5,050 feet
Collected by: R.K. Vickery, Jr.
April 27, 1960
The Natural History Museum of Utah is funded in part by Salt Lake County Zoo, Arts & Parks (ZAP).
301 Wakara Way, Salt Lake City, Utah 84108
©2014 Natural History Museum of Utah.
For the personal use of students, scholars and the public. Any commercial use or publication is strictly prohibited.


text:
Discussion about Near Field Communication app development (primarily on Windows Phone)
Use this control to limit the display of threads to those newer than the specified time frame.
Allows you to choose the data by which the thread list will be sorted.
Order threads in...
Note: when sorting by date, 'descending order' will show the newest results first.
Forum Rules


text:
Shop XM Accessories
For telephone orders and support, call 1-877-438-9677
The XM Universal Home Kit is compatible with all of the newest XM Plug & Play radios that feature the Universal Docking capability. Listen to SiriusXM in the comfort of your own home or office.
The Lynx home kit allows you to access SiriusXM Internet Radio via Wi-Fi®, or SiriusXM Satellite Radio in your home or office and includes Bluetooth® connectivity.
The Lynx vehicle kit has everything you need to enjoy your SiriusXM in your car!
The Universal Boombox features a sporty
design and great sound for all our Plug & Play radios with universal docking capability.
Dock your compatible XM Dock and Play or Portable Radio and enjoy your favorite entertainment almost anywhere.
View All Radios


text:
The timing belt tensioner pulley may make a squealing noise from the timing cover area on cold startup. An updated tensioner with a thicker mounting bracket to eliminate vibration may be needed to solve the problem.
Problems for specific Mazda Protege years:
Car problem reports
Problem with your car? See what our experts say or submit your own.
Most reported 2002 Mazda Protege problems
Engine Cranks and Doesn't Start
An electrically shorted air flow sensor can cause a crank-no start condition. Diagnosis may show that ignition spark is normal, and there are no trouble codes stored.
Misfires Under Load
Misfires under load (acceleration) can be caused by leaky spark plug boots. When a spark plug boot leaks, it allows the spark to arc, or jump, to the cylinder head. New spark plug wires will be needed.
Idles Rough, Misfires, and Possible Check Engine Light
A loose or corroded ground terminal on the driver's side of the cylinder head can cause a rough idle, misfires, and there may be trouble codes. Restore the ground to the cylinder head.
Engine Stalls when Coming to a Stop
If the engine stalls when coming to a stop, check the automatic transmission fluid (ATF) level. Low ATF fluid level can cause the torque converter lock-up to stay on, stalling the engine.
Crank but No Start Condition and No Fuel Pressure
No Start After Distributor Cap and Rotor Replacement
If the engine will not start after distributor rotor replacement, a common mistake is to install the distributor rotor in the wrong position. The rotor may seat in three positions and one should note the direction before removal.
Check Engine Light Due to Restricted EGR System
The passages for the Exhaust Gas Recirculation (EGR) system can become restricted or clogged causing the Check Engine Light to illuminate. The EGR valve will need to be inspected and the passages cleaned.


text:
View All:
Silver Zac Jean
SALE $69.97 was $92.00 Item #88165401LD136
- Regular fit straight leg jean
- Low rise, 19" bottom opening
- Embroidered back faux flap pockets
- Hand sanding, whiskering and grinding details
- Zip fly
- Leather Silver label on back
- 100% Cotton.
- Machine wash cold. Do not bleach. Tumble dry low. Low iron. Can be dry cleaned.
- This quality denim has been hand finished for a unique, individual look. It will wear like your old favorite jeans, with each abrasion continuing to wear over time. We hope you love the vintage appearance and comfort of wearing jeans that have the look and feel of years of wear. Thanks for making the Buckle your denim destination.
- Made in China.
Have a Question?
Email Guest Services. Visit our Denim Guide.
View All:
Men's Jeans
Men's Silver Jeans Jeans
We changed our page. Tell us what you think.
- Model Info: Height: 6'1" | Chest: 40" | Waist: 31" | Hip: 39 1/2" | Wearing Size: 31x32
|Slim Fit
|24-24 1/2" thigh
|Regular Fit
|25-25 1/2" thigh
|Relaxed Fit
|26-26 1/2" thigh
|Loose Fit
|27-27 1/2" thigh
Silver Zac Jean 1 1
Awesome Jeans Both jeans I ordered fit great and got out to me extremely fast. Very satisfied!!! May 24, 2014
1-1 of 1


text:
Aroma® Rotating Food Dehydrator
Item #: 131037 | Model #: AFD-615 | (9) |
We're sorry, this item is not available in your selected Club. Check another Club
Model: AFD-615
Create your own dried fruits, vegetables, jerky, herbs and spices!
Create your own dried fruits, vegetables, jerky, herbs and spices!
Model: AFD-615
The Aroma® Rotating Food Dehydrator features five automatic, reversible rotating trays for fast even drying. Its efficient fan ensures fast drying time. The vented lids on the Rotating Food Dehydrator ensure proper dehydration control.
The AFD-615 Aroma® Rotating Food Dehydrator dries fruits, vegetables, nutritious snacks, meats (jerky), herbs, spices and flowers. Accessories and instruction manual included.
Assembled Country
Component Country
USA And Imported
Ask & Answer
Warranty InformationThis product is covered by the SAM'S CLUB Member Satisfaction Guarantee.
There is no additional information available for this item.


text:
|Thread Tools
|Display Modes
Get me outta the suburbs
So I work out by Walker and 158th I want a decent route into the city that won't have me looking over my shoulder for cars going 60+
Take it from Me...
I live by Murray and Butner, so I have a lot to say about this.
The route I'm going to share with you is not hard, but it's weird enough that you should try it some day when you have some time.
First of all, find your way to the Terpenning THPRD center. That's the SW corner of Walker & 158th. If you noodle around, you'll find there is a MUP exit at the east end onto Pioneer Road.
The above seems complicated, but it's really not bad after you've done it a few times. The trick now is to get you onto the US-26 bike path. You'll cross SR-217 (overpass), and then make a left onto SW 96th. Turn right at the T. If you look on Google maps it looks like one would be forced back to Wilshire vi SW Knollcrest. Not true! The US-26 bike path starts right where Park Way ends.
You didn't say where you wanted to go in downtown. If I was planning to go into central westside area, I'd probably continue through the zoo:
Congratulations, you are now in SW Portland!
Another simpler but more nervy route from the Sylvan interchange is to just hop on US-26 eastbound at the zoo exit and jump off immediately at SW Jefferson Avenue.
If you're planning to go points south of town, you could cross over US-26 at the Sylvan interchange and then follow Hewett Boulevard up to Broadway or Dosch or what you prefer.
Back at Sylvan, if you're going to get on Hewett Boulevard, you can use the left turn signal for the US-26 eastbound onramp to cross over to a sidewalk:
(In case the image doesn't show up, here's the link: http://maps.google.com/maps?f=q&hl=e....0036&t=h&z=18)
However, beware that about 25% of the northbound traffic on Scholls Ferry Road will disregard their red light and try to make a hood ornament of you when you go to the sidewalk. Be careful!
ORS 811.065 (1)(a):
The driver of a motor vehicle may only pass a person operating a bicycle by driving to the left of the bicycle at a safe distance and returning to the lane of travel once the motor vehicle is safely clear of the overtaken bicycle. For the purposes of this paragraph, a safe distance means a distance that is sufficient to prevent contact with the person operating the bicycle if the person were to fall into the drivers lane of traffic....
LCI #2105 Lambchop Rides!
Last edited by K'Tesh; 05-13-2008 at 05:25 PM. Reason: tried to fix broken image, failed... nutz...
If you were wanting to be north of Burnside at the end of all this, when you get to Lewis and Clark Circle, (or whatever it is), carefully go the wrong way down the 1-way for a teeny bit, and hop onto Stearns Way, a former street that switchbacks down to Burnside. You cross at NW 24th, and you are in NW Portland...
Note: descending Park and or Salmon through the west side of downtown is.... interesting. The road is steep, and not in the best of condition. Once you get to Lincoln HS the grade eases and it is a more-relaxing ride.
Returning to the west side - the best way I've found is to follow SW Jefferson until it makes the big bend left (past the Vista Bridge) - hop onto the path on the right. Switchback up. Take a left turn on the path when it is offered. It puts you at the entrance to Washington Park.
Alternative routes are climbing Vista or Montgomery (pretty, but steep).
I calculated Pointer to be even steeper for a short distance. Use your gears.
I think it might be faster to make a right at the tennis courts on to Sherwood. You do have speed bumps then, but I've found big bike tires are pretty good at rolling over them. Going NW, the stop sign on Park is Vista, which becomes 23rd, so that should be good access too.
Park to Salmon is only if you have good brakes. I won't ride it on my steel rimmed bike if there is wet roads or the threat of rain. That bike wont make the stop sign on Park, or the bottom of Salmon! Watch the buses parked down the road from the school. They force you to take the lane since they block the shoulder.
Feel the Kool-Stops within you, Luke!
Salmon-colored Kool-Stops are the best! When was the last time you checked your brake pads?
But seriously, whichever way you come out of the zoo I think you'll face about a block of serious steepness. Another reason to try this route some day when you have time.
ORS 811.065 (1)(a):
The driver of a motor vehicle may only pass a person operating a bicycle by driving to the left of the bicycle at a safe distance and returning to the lane of travel once the motor vehicle is safely clear of the overtaken bicycle. For the purposes of this paragraph, a safe distance means a distance that is sufficient to prevent contact with the person operating the bicycle if the person were to fall into the drivers lane of traffic....
LCI #2105 Lambchop Rides!
let's not forget the bit of serious steepness just above the Rose Garden. Sharp hairpin turn, really awful pavement, a stop sign and very steep. Good brakes are very reassuring.
Virtual Tour update for Tanasbourne to Portland
Thanks a lot for this awesome connection. This makes the Virtual Tour for Tanasbourne to Portland much better.
I welcome your comments before I update the website
Drive Less, Save More......Lives
|Thread Tools
|Display Modes
Hybrid Mode


text:
hazardous materials Companies in Michigan
Category: Health & Safety ×
Subcategory: Hazardous Materials ×
Keyword: hazardous materials ×
Location: USA ×
Location: Michigan ×
Bureau of Dangerous Goods, Ltd.
based in Cranbury, NEW JERSEY (USA)
The Bureau of Dangerous Goods, Ltd., established in 1982, specializes in the domestic and international issues of dangerous goods transportation. It has achieved global recognition from various governments and commercial enterprises in the disciplines of dangerous goods regulations, including:
3E Company
based in Carlsbad, CALIFORNIA (USA)
3E Company's comprehensive suite of data products and information services enable improved compliance with global Environmental Health & Safety (EH&S) requirements related to the safe manufacturing, distribution, transportation, usage and disposal of chemicals and hazardous products. This full chemical lifecycle approach enables in-house EH&S staff to reduce cost, risk ...
Hazardous Material Compliance, Inc.
based in Doral, FLORIDA (USA)
Hazardous Material Compliance, Inc. was founded in 1986 to assist our customers in meeting the ever changing requirements of the transportation industry. With over 45 years of combined industry experience, our staff is committed to provide our customers with the highest quality of customer service. Whether you are a shipper, an airline, freight forwarder or handling ...
Compliance Solutions
based in Denver, COLORADO (USA)
Compliance Solutions, the nations largest privately held H&S training company offers Web-Based (WBT) and Instructor-Led (ILT) training courses for clients in the U.S. and abroad. Our library of 70+ hazmat and occupational health & safety courses is being constantly expanded to meet our clients diverse needs. Our proprietary learning management system (LMS) allows tracking ...
DG Supplies, Inc
based in Cranbury, NEW JERSEY (USA)
DG Supplies is a family-owned and operated small business specializing in packaging, software and services relating to Hazardous Materials and General Shipping.
The Compliance Center (ICC)
based in Niagara Falls, NEW YORK (USA)
Since its inception in 1987, ICC The Compliance Center has been training and providing products to comply with dangerous goods regulations to safely handle and transport dangerous goods by air, ground or sea. ICC The Compliance Center has been operating for over 20 years throughout Canada and the United States, and has developed products that have become the de facto ...
based in Chapel Hill, NORTH CAROLINA (USA)
Training courses for transportation and shipping, safety, mining, hazardous waste, environmental & more.
Environmental Resource Center
based in Cary, NORTH CAROLINA (USA)
Environmental Resource Center is a full-service environmental, health, safety, and transportation consulting firm. Since 1981, we have served the needs of industry, academia, and federal and state government agencies by providing high-quality safety and environmental consulting services. We offer a variety of seminars, including all required EPA hazardous waste management ...
JEB Environmental Services, LLC
based in Yukon, OKLAHOMA (USA)
JEB Environmental Services, LLC is owned and operated by James E. (Jim) Boehringer in Yukon, Oklahoma. Although we are located in the southwest United States, our services extend across the globe. The map on the left illustrates where Jim has traveled (red dots) to impart his distinct knowledge and experience. To discuss your specific Hazardous Materials and Dangerous ...
Sensor and Decontamination, Inc. (SDI)
based in Binghamton, NEW YORK (USA)
Sensor and Decontamination, Inc. (SDI), in New York and presently doing business in Pennsylvania, develops hazardous materials cleanup, decontamination, and detection systems. A research and development and manufacturing firm with interests in hazardous materials cleanup, decontamination, and detection.


text:
Big and Tall Button Pocket Knit Polo
Item# 43FK7606PS
Availability :
- 64% Cotton/ 36% Polyester
- Jersey Fabrication
- 4 Button Placket
- Open Chest Pocket
- Machine Washable
Rated 5 out of 5 by 1 reviewer.
Rated 5 out of 5 by Lazyj Best quality shirt on internet for big men. I would buy all my shirts from perry ellis if they had more shirts in 4x. I bought one a year ago. I realized it was my favorite shirt, it always looked nice, it didn't collect cat hair. We have a cat and that can be a problem. It always comes out of the dryer looking brand new. And always fits perfect. The material is better then any other company that sell big and tall clothes. I only hope they start making more big size clothes then they do now. Thank you for your shirts. I have several now and will keep buying them. November 25, 2013
1-1 of 1


text:
Christmas in the Land of OZ
An adventure fantasy featuring all your favorite characters in a Holiday sequel to the classic Wizard of Oz stories by Frank L. Baum. In this lively stage production, the wicked witch of the Northwest has stolen everything that is Christmas in OZ. Dorothy encounters some interesting new Witches, and with their help and that of her loyal friends, they again conquer evil with good! So, hop onto your Holiday broomsticks and join us for a hilarious, spirit-filled ride back to OZ!
When: Fridays, December 6th & 13th
Saturdays, December 7th & 14th
Time: Fridays - 7:00pm
Saturdays - 2:00pm & 7:00pm
Where: Westmont Elementary School: 8251 Heil Ave., Westminter, CA 92683
For more information and to purchase tickets, please see flyer.


text:
This makes an elegant appetizer or a delicious lunch for four. I love using dry Adobo to season shrimp salad, but if you don't have Adobo, any seasoned salt would work great. I always keep Greek yogurt on hand to lighten up recipes that require mayonnaise. I combined the mayo with the Greek yogurt to keep it light and creamy and the results were delicious. This yields about 1 lb salad without the cucumbers.
Also great served on whole grain toast.
Shrimp Salad on Cucumber Slices
Gina's Weight Watcher Recipes
As an Appetizer:
Servings: 30 • Serving Size: 1 piece • Old Points: 0 pts • Points+: 0 pts
Calories: 15.7 • Fat: 0.4 g • Protein: 2.5 g • Carb: 0.5 g • Fiber: 0.1 g
As Lunch:
Servings: 4 • Serving Size: 1/4 lb salad, 1/4 cucumber • Old Points: 2 pts • Points+: 3 pts
Calories: 117.5 • Fat: 2.8 g • Protein: 18.8 g • Carb: 3.7 g • Fiber: 1.0 g
- 3/4 lb cooked shrimp, peeled (weight after peeled)
- 2 celery stalks, chopped
- 1 tbsp red onion, chopped
- 2 tbsp light mayonnaise (I used Hellmann's)
- 1 tbsp fat free Greek yogurt
- Goya Adobo
- salt and fresh ground pepper
- 30 thin slices cucumber (about 1 large)
- chopped chives for garnish
Combine shrimp, celery, onion, mayonnaise, yogurt, and season to taste with adobo and pepper. Arrange cucumbers on a platter, season with salt and top each slice with a heaping tablespoon of shrimp salad. Top with chopped chives for garnish.


text:
Lebanon students can apply for scholarships
Thursday, March 21, 2013
LEBANON, Maine — Both the Dorcas Society and The West Lebanon Community Ladies Circle of Lebanon,Maine have scholarship applications available at the Lebanon Town Office or at Noble High School. Both groups award two $500 scholarships to Lebanon students. A student is one who is graduating this year and accepted at a post secondary institution or one already attending one. Applications are due by April 30. A student can apply for both groups scholarships.


text:
Kristina Chen (a.k.a YouTuber Tinaecmusic) is a webcam celebrity best known for singing karaoke versions of pop songs originally performed by 90s boy bands like the Backstreet Boys and N*SYNC. Since her YouTube debut in 2007, her performance videos have become a frequent target of ridicule and parodies on the web.
Cory's Sunglasses
Corey Delany is a teenage party starter turned famous due to a television interview in 2008. This followed his reckless party that caused $20,000 in damages. His interview became the forth most popular video for it's time and created a roller coaster of events for the 16 year old. The video became known for Corey's snappy answers.
Soulja Boy
"Crank That" is a viral dance craze started by DeAndre Cortez Way, AKA Soulja Boy Tell 'Em; a young rapper who managed to turn his MySpace and Youtube fame into a music entertainment career.
Chocolate Rain
Chocolate Rain is a viral video created by Tay Zonday that launched him into Internet fame. The video has been parodied and remixed in thousands of instances, eventually leading to Tay himself appearing on a number of television shows including a South Park parody. At over 54 million views, Chocolate rain is among the top 50 most viewed videos on YouTube of all time.
Reaction Videos Experiment
Reaction videos are videos posted in forums typically as a response to the OP.
They are usually short sentences or phrases taken from a larger video (popular movies, tv shows, YouTube videos, etc.) that express emotion in a similar fashion to reaction faces.


text:
ADC (Advanced Data Centers), a company based in San Francisco, is set to build the country's greenest data center. Because of its efficiency, the project stands to save its owner from $1.8 million to $2 million in energy costs. ADC says its new center will be 25-30 percent more energy efficient than the industry standard. […][Read More]
You are here: Home / Archives for platinum


text:
Pop idol Nicholas Tse (THE PROMISE) stars in this megahit martial arts drama as Liang, the rebellious eldest son of Zan, master of Yong Chun Quan. But difficulties arise between father and son as Zan refuses to teach Liang martial arts because he finds him arrogant and naive. Meanwhile, Liang must master the skills of Yong Chun to beat his rival Ko, who is ruthless and has an eye for Liang's lover. Only a duel between Ko and Liang can settle the score once and for all. With amazing kung fu action, YONG CHUN is one fabulous martial arts adventure that will leave you breathless!
Click here to list more Nicholas Tse's DVD titles


text:
|Lowest Recommended Age:
|4th - 6th Grades
|MPAA Rating:
|Rated PG for fantasy action/violence involving scary images and situations, and for a smoking caterpillar
|Movie Release Date:
|March 5, 2010
|DVD Release Date:
|June 1, 2010
Almost 150 years ago Oxford mathematician Charles Dodgson published his wildly imaginative story about Alice's adventures down a rabbit hole. And now the wildly imaginative director Tim Burton has brought Wonderland to the 3D movie screen. It is less faithful […]