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Image by @Doug88888 via Flickr
Cat looking after mitts are an excellent way to eliminate undesirable reduce locks from your pet buddy. Kittens and cats, especially the longhaired versions can reduce as much as any dog and many of them are not likely to sit through a extended looking after procedure with styling brushes and hair combs. However, many cats will lie comfortably while you "pet" them with your cat looking after mitts on. If you have ever been wondering about better cat, looking after items here is a little more about these mitts.
Cat looking after mitts are created of a wide range of elements with regards to the maker. You will see mitts that are easy natural cotton structure with brought up nodules or mitts created of flexible plastic capable with plastic "teeth". Which type of baseball glove you end up picking will significantly rely on your pet's building up a tolerance for pleasure. For example if your cat cannot manage being stroked for more than a few moments, the first baseball glove would be the better option. However if your cat really likes being petted and groomed the second type with plastic guidelines will actually eliminate more locks.
When to Use
How often you bridegroom your cat is determined by many elements. First is the pet's capability to bridegroom himself or herself. Mature felines or those with a incapacity may have problems absolutely looking after their fur and even when they do manage it, they coughing and hack into on hairballs. Another big element in looking after is the time your pet's fur, is he a big comfortable Nearby or a shorthaired Siamese? Lastly, is it reduce season? Certain periods of period equivalent large volumes of creature locks sailing around, which can magic catastrophe if you have any form of allergies!
Longhaired cats will need to be groomed more often than shorthaired versions. Some cats may need to be applied or groomed every individual day and you will still get enough locks from one cat to make a second! If your cat stays time outside they may also need a more extreme looking after program, however a cat-grooming baseball glove is not the only device you will need in this scenario. Outside cats usually select up briars, brambles and peel off decals in their fur, which can be challenging to eliminate without a strong fresh or fresh.
The the main thing is this, the more you use a cat-grooming baseball glove the less locks you will have to fear about in the house. You can keep your pet fresh and groomed looking anytime by basically stroking him or her with the baseball glove. This requires a lot of pressure out of the scenario for you and the cat plus helps you to save cash on expert groomers.
Whether you have a longhaired, shorter haired, youthful or old cat, you could advantage from a cat-grooming baseball glove. They are a easy way to bridegroom your cat without the common deal with and aggravation of other resources. Better still is the cost, you can select up these looking after mitts for a few $ $ $ $ on the internet at several suppliers.
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About us
- Businesses & opportunities
- Our people
- Careers & jobs
- Volunteers
- Our organisation
- Obtaining information
- Legislation
Personal Trainer Policy
Since their inception in 1816, the Royal Botanic Garden and Domain (two estates of the Royal Botanic Gardens & Domain Trust) have been places visited by many different groups of people, partaking in a wide range of activities.
The primary goal for managing both estates has been to provide a safe and tranquil setting for the appreciation and conservation of plants. In recent years with the growing interest in healthy living and lifestyles the impact of active recreation pursuits has increased, particularly due to the increased number of personal trainers and fitness groups.
These groups compete with other Trust visitors and tourists for the access and use of the site. This policy has been prepared to establish the criteria and scope of activities for personal trainers and fitness groups conducting commercial business on Trust lands.
The Trust is always faced with the difficult task of achieving a balance between demand for general public expectations of access, tranquillity and botanic garden values, with the needs of commercial and event users.
The Royal Botanic Gardens and Domain Trust Act 1980 (clause 8.1(h)) enables the Trust to charge a fee for services. The Trust requires individuals or businesses who conduct commercial operations on Trust lands to:
Royal Botanic Gardens and Domain Trust Regulation 2013
47 Personal training in the Gardens
48 Personal training in the Domain
49 Using exercise equipment in Gardens
50 Leaving exercise equipment or other items in Gardens
This Policy defines a personal trainer or fitness group as an individual or group who are under the instruction or leadership of an individual who derives a fee for service.
Personal trainers will be allowed to conduct business in the Domain. No personal trainers will be allowed to conduct training programs or use equipment within the Royal Botanic Garden.
This policy will be reviewed after 12 months, and then every two years.
Key components
Fees are paid annually or six-monthly for personal training in the Domain.
The fee (inclusive of GST) is currently set at:
The transfer of a licence from one individual to another within an organisation will incur an administrative fee of $40.
Fees are due at time of application, and run for six months or one year (as appropriate) from the date of application.
Organisations or personal trainers who employ a number of staff must pay a fee for each staff member who conducts personal training programs on Trust lands, and provide the necessary credentials for each person licenced.
There will be a staged implementation of the policy.
Infringement Processing
Personal Trainer Code of Conduct
As a Personal Trainer engaged in business on Royal Botanic Gardens & Domain Trust lands, you agree to:
General Conditions
Access and Damage
Insurances and Safety

subset: commoncrawl


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American Council on Exercise4851 Paramount DriveSan Diego, California 92123
Deep water fitness classes are a great venue for both highly conditioned participants as well as those new to exercise. However, having a good understanding of the buoyant environment is critical if the workout is to be effective. This session will help water fitness instructors understand the dynamics of deep water, visualize movements, cue proper body positioning, and gain a better understanding of appropriate interval sequences that should be used in deep water. By becoming familiar with the Tabata Method (20/10 interval ratio in 8 round sequences), as well as other proven effective interval ratios and techniques, instructors will learn to select movement patterns in timed ratios that will help participants maintain interest and manipulate intensity in deep water classes.
Date & Time
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If you need help selecting appropriate study materials for your fitness education, registering for an ACE exam or answering any questions about your certification, we're here to help. Expert consultants are available via e-mail at email@example.com, on Live Chat or by phone at the number below Monday-Friday, 5 a.m. to 6 p.m. (PST).
Sign up to receive emails about special offers, promotions, exclusive product information and news.


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- Filed Under
Construction on what will be the county's first kindergarten through 12th grade school building continues to progress while discussions move forward on a possible second K-12 facility.
Elgin Local Schools Superintendent Bruce Gast reported progress Tuesday on Elgin's new building, which will consolidate students previously located at four schools around the district.
Whether Ridgedale Local Schools builds the county's second such facility likely will depend on voters. ...


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Practicing ArchitectureKnowledge Communities
AAH 2009 Summer Leadership Summit: Handouts
Themed "The Economy and The Way Forward: The Future Ain't What It Used To Be," the 2009 Summit was held in Chicago, July 24-26, 2009. Review the onsite agenda.
Friday, July 24, 2009
AIA-AAH & ACHA Updates for 2009
What We Can Expect From the Next Iteration of the U.S. Health Care System
Help is on the Way and it's You!
Saturday, July 25, 2009
The Intersection of the Economic Crisis and Healthcare Reform
(Presentation currently not available.)
Healthcare Design + Construction: Trends, Innovations, Opportunities
Panel Discussion: The Way Forward


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November 24, 2015
GRAND JUNCTION, Colo. (KKCO)-- Pete Lelich and Cody Krabbe combined to throw 11 shut-out innings in a double-header sweep over Glenwood Springs on Tuesday.
Krabbe pitched a complete-game shut-out in game one to help Palisade win 11-0 in five innings. Lelich one-upped Krabbe in the second game as he threw six scoreless innings in a 3-0 victory. Both starters gave up just two hits a piece.
KKCO firmly believes in freedom of speech for all and we are happy to provide this forum for the community to share opinions and facts. We ask that commenters keep it clean, keep it truthful, stay on topic and be responsible. Comments left here do not necessarily represent the viewpoint of KKCO 11News.powered by Disqus
Click Here to access the online Public Inspection File
Viewers with disabilities can get assistance accessing this station's FCC Public Inspection File by contacting the station with the information listed below. Questions or concerns relating to the accessibility of the FCC's online public file system should be directed to the FCC at 888-225-5322, 888-835-5322 (TTY), or firstname.lastname@example.com.


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How to buy our CDs
Physical CD
You can in principle find our CDs by your usual record dealer.
You have also the possibility to order our CDs by contacting companies listed hereafter.
Become a wholesaler
Please contact us by email:
Record by Claves
Please send us a presentation file with your bio and a sample at this address:
Claves Records
Av. du Général Guisan 85
CH-1009 Pully
General information
For any other information, feel free to contact us
Claves Records
Av. du Général Guisan 85
CH-1009 Pully
Tel: +41 21 721 13 66
Fax: +41 21 721 13 67


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This Lake Erie water snake has banded markings. Many of the formerly endangered snakes are gray. Their population exploded in the mid 2000s as their diet shifted to the invasive round gobie, which is prevalent around the Lake Erie Islands.
- Filed Under
Two years after the Lake Erie water snake was removed from the federal Endangered Species List, its numbers are robust and holding steady, a researcher said.
And the snake can thank an invasive fish for a large role in its comeback.
The resilient snakes have turned to the massive numbers of the round goby, brought to the Great Lakes through ocean-going cargo ships' ballast water, as their main source of food, said Kristin Stanford, Ohio State University Stone Laboratory education and outreach coordinator, research scientist and herpetologist. ...


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One thing that's sure to get talked about over this holiday is the weather.
It's the No. 1 most-discussed topic anyway, but when there's a three-day weekend in the middle of summer, everybody wants to know what they're in for.
So, first things first. Sunday's the day to look out for, said Brian Edwards, a meteorologist with AccuWeather Inc.
If you're off today, you'll be happy to know it's probably the best day of the next four, with temperatures around 80 and low humidity.
The problem, if there is one, will be Saturday night into Sunday.
"A shower or thunderstorm may move in Saturday night, but the better chance for that is on Sunday," Edwards said. "Some of the storms on Sunday could be on the strong side, with highs around 87 degrees before the rain hits."
Edwards said things will be fine by the time fireworks go off throughout the Lower Hudson Valley, so you probably don't need to bring an umbrella.
Meteorologists are an interesting lot. They go on record all the time telling people what's coming up, even what the five-day forecast is.
But from what the experts say, any prediction more than a couple of days out is really a crapshoot.
Edwards' co-worker, Paul Pastelok, is a long-range predictor. He knows probably better than most how hard it is to figure out what a summer will bring well before winter's snows have melted.
"These guys look at the patterns that caused the winter weather and see what happened the following summer," Pastelok said. "They'll look at water temperatures in the Atlantic and Pacific. They'll come up with eight or ten years with a strong La Nina and then a corresponding summer, but it gets tricky because there are so many outlyers."
Pastelok has to do his job nonetheless and he doesn't shy from predictions for this month and August.
"The extreme heat of last year doesn't look like it's going to return this year," he said. "It's not going to be as warm, but for you guys, it still be above normal, which is the mid-80s."
That extreme heat last year — with less rain than normal — is something that bothers Jeff Masters.
Masters is the guy who started Weather Underground, a commercial weather service that provides real-time weather information via the Internet.
He started it while he was a Ph.D candidate in meteorology at the University of Michigan in 1995 and said Thursday that the system has about 20,000 home weather stations connected to what is already connected to the National Weather Service.
Masters studied extreme weather events as far back as he could and now says 2010-2011 has demonstrated the Earth's most extreme weather since 1816.
Two centuries?
"We don't have very good records for the 1800s, especially outside the U.S., but last year was the warmest year on record for the globe," Masters said. "1998 was the warmest year on record for the U.S."
What's at stake as we get more and more extreme weather — droughts and floods and extreme heat — is how we'll be able to protect our crops.
"My main concern is the global food supply," Masters said. "Droughts and floods will have a huge impact on our ability to feed ourselves."
He believes we're going to be "in the middle of a global emergency" in 30 years.
"That's when we'll be scrambling to cut our (greenhouse gas production)," he said. "If we lose our Arctic sea ice and the Amazon, we're going to see large changes. Those are big stabilizers."
Reach Greg Clary at 914-696-8566 or email@example.com.


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Hi guys Im heading to Cape Cod for the summer with a friend, Basically Im I have a few questions and any one who has been or is going I would love to get some answers.
1. Where is the best place in Cape Cod to Look for jobs, its a big enough place and Im not sure which town is best to locate too (I have heard Hyannis is the biggest)
2. What is the best way to travel around Cape Cod, would we need a car or is there good enough public transport (It would be a bit of hassle trying to purchase a car)
3. Where is the best place to look for jobs and accommodation I have no idea where would be the best place to look for summer work, I assume Hyannis would be one of the places just based on size but I could be wrong.
And if anyone else is heading there let me know if your interested in sharing accommodation, there is two of us both lads and from Limerick heading over on the 26th May.


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- Filed Under
Although it wasn't expected to create many permanent jobs, local officials were disappointed but not surprised to learn the expansive, and expensive, Turning Point Solar array planned for an 850-acre site in Noble County might be derailed before its gets off of the ground.
Zanesville-Muskingum County Port Authority Executive Director Mike Jacoby said economic development officials had not expected a large job increase from the project, since the bulk of the jobs created would have been during the construction phase.
Zane State College President Paul Brown said the stalled plans would ...


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Interfirm Diversity, Organizational Learning, and Longevity in Global Strategic Alliances
Journal of International Business Studies (1991)
- DOI: 10.1057/palgrave.jibs.8490315
- PubMed: 1554985
Available from Journal of International Business Studies
Organizational theorists have correctly argued that the emergence and maintenance of robust cooperation between global strategic alliance partners is related to the diversity in the partners' characteristics. Yet previous research has failed to systematically delineate the important dimensions of interfirm diversity and integrate the dimensions into a unified framework of analysis. A multilevel typology of interfirm diversity is developed, focusing on organizational learning and adaptation as critical processes that dynamically moderate diversity's impact on alliance longevity and effectiveness.
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No booking fees
The only major hostel booking site that doesn't charge a booking fee.
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94% of 201,155 customers would recommend HostelBookers to a friend.
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Central Dockside Apartments
44 Ferry Street
Kangaroo Point, QLD 4169
Toll Free: 1800 775 005
Phone: +61 7 3891 6644
Fax: +61 7 3891 6900
Email: firstname.lastname@example.com
Now with FREE guest wi-fi!
Overlooking the Brisbane River, Story Bridge and stunning City skyline, Central Dockside Apartments is only a stones throw from the CBD by foot, ferry or taxi with Brisbane's best restaurants, entertainment and shopping just moments away.
Located at historic Kangaroo Point, Central Dockside Apartments offers spacious one and two bedroom apartments featuring fully equipped kitchens, laundries and private balconies.
Complete with undercover parking and an outdoor pool with a view of the river, Central Dockside Apartments caters to those wishing to stay, rent or buy with an on site restaurant available for breakfast.
Just minutes from Brisbane's ferries, buses and trains and a short 20km drive from Brisbane Airport, Central Dockside Apartments are centrally located for your convenience.


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Video captured a woman being dragged by her hair and thrown off a cliff.
It happened in Arequipa when Lisset Lupo Mamani caught her husband with his lover, reports said.
Video shows Mamani approaching her husband and his mistress, identified as Sandra Morales.
The husband bolts as Mamani grabs Morales by her hair and drags her to the edge of a cliff. The video then shows Mamani throwing Morales over the edge, where she plunged more than 20 feet.
Morales survived the drop with some cuts and bruises. She was treated at a hospital and released.
According to the Inquisitr, Mamani apologized for her actions and has since separated from her husband.


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Search Results for: musicares
Showing 1 - 2 of 2 articles.
Our friend, Meghan Brown, wrote this guest blog for Featured News… GRAMMY Camp! Have you heard of it? It's an awesome summer camp program that brings high school students together for a 10 day total music immersion. Last...
Okay, so I know I owe you a couple of blogs since we last spoke. Honestly, it's been tough to find a quiet moment and the proper location to blog it up for you, the faithful Shure Mic Check Blog audience. The Staples Center...
The Grammys: Day 2, Day 3 And The Element Of Surprise
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For Customer Service, please call 800.967.6696
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What you need to know.
We will accept returns and exchanges of non-furniture items if:
- Non-furniture items are returned within 90 days of customer receipt.
- A valid proof of purchase is provided (see below).
- Non-furniture items are returned in good condition—unused and unwashed.
If you discover an item has a manufacturer's defect or was damaged during transit, we will accept the item for return or exchange with proof of purchase. Without proof of purchase, the item can be exchanged only for the same item. A valid photo ID is required.
We are unable to accept any items for return or exchange without proof of purchase. Items purchased as final sale cannot be returned, exchanged or repaired.
Items must be returned to the store brand where the purchase originated or by mail (if the item was ordered online or by phone and received by mail). Purchases made outside the U.S. may only be returned to the purchase location.


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Latest Weather Blog
Study links TV in bedrooms to childhood obesity
BATON ROUGE - Researchers at Pennington Biomedical Research Center found a link between obesity and children having TV sets in their bedrooms.
The report, published Tuesday in the American Journal of Preventative Medicine, found that children with TV sets in their bedrooms were likely to watch more TV, have more fat and a higher waist circumference than boys and girls who didn't have TVs in their bedrooms. They were also three times more likely to have elevated cardiometabolic risk and elevated triglycerides.
The report was based on a yearlong study of nearly 370 Baton Rouge children, ranging in ages 5 to 18.
Amanda Staiano, a postdoctoral research fellow, said a bedroom TV may create additional disruption to healthy habits in children.


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"To the Moon: Ohio's Journey" features rare interviews, fascinating archive footage and a behind-the-scenes glimpse of the next generation of moon exploration.
The show includes exclusive interviews with John Glenn, James Lovell, NBC space correspondent Jay Barbree, and Dr. Robert Graham, along with comments from Neil Armstrong during Glenn Research Center's NASA 50th Anniversary Gala.
WKYC Channel 3, in partnership with NASA Glenn Research Center, presents a high-definition, hour-long prime time special.
As the high definition leader in locally produced programming in Northeast Ohio, WKYC is proud to showcase our region's efforts in space exploration.
We have always looked to the sky and, for a brief moment, mankind walked on a heavenly body other than earth.
Ohio was at the heart of it all, pioneering the technology and sending our bravest into space.
As we near the 40th anniversary of the moon landing, we honor the Ohio men and women who dreamed of a journey beyond all others.
We celebrate the local companies that created products and solutions for America's space program. And we take a look back -- and alook forward -- at what the next missions mean to our region.


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The Spiceman
Steven Hunley "
"Like the Bhavacakra?"
"Oh, most certainly, yes."
Taylor continued to take pictures and moved the viewfinder from one pile of bright spices to another.
The little girl was laughing when he turned the camera towards her.
Just then he looked up and saw a truck speeding down the narrow street. The ball was rolling towards the door and Lakshmi was right after it. He saw the future through his lens. Death. The child crushed under its wheels. It was inevitable. He flew from his seat.
Wheels and brakes screeched. A woman screamed. He scooped up the child and his heavy camera slipped out of his hands and under the wheel instead of the child. One thing traded for another.
A crowd formed immediately and the driver nearly fainted. Billy Fish ran out and took charge of Lakshmi. Taylor looked sadly at his Nikon ground into the pavement. Everyone was upset except the baby. To her it was if is nothing had happened at all, as if she was a goddess, invincible.
After they went back inside the only sign that anything had happened was a flattened blue ball and a child's tiny footprints in the dirt by the door. Almost forgettable. But Billy Fish was not one to forget.
"It's getting late, and I'm leaving early tomorrow Billy. I think I really should go."
Billy tugged on his coat and went to an antique cash register and began to dig in the drawer.
"Oh Billy, I can't accept money."
He handed him a thin-folded piece of paper.
"What's this?"
"It's the spice of life. A very ancient and special mix with a noble pedigree I assure you."
Billy's eyes glittered. Not like before, like a gold-sequined gown, but like the Golden Nebula.
"What's it for?"
"You'll know when you need it. But when you do, take it all. It's made for your weight."
Taylor slipped the packet inside his coat pocket next to his Pilot pen where it would be safe. He wrote his address on a card. He was proud of his card. I was a picture he'd taken on Easter Island, one of the sacred statues after dark, lit only by the stars and the reflections off the white foam of surf behind the platform of rocks and a single hand-held flash. Impressive.
"Thank you, Billy. Here's my address. Maybe you'll visit the States someday."
"Oh my, no Sir. Too much hustle and bustle for my sort of person."
Billy looked at the picture on the card and wondered about it, then placed it in his pocket.
They shook hands again and parted. Taylor went to his hotel room. Lakshmi to her little bed and Billy slept in a chair beside her. The sea breeze from the Bay of Bengal made sleeping easy that night in Calcutta. The city fell into a hushed kind of silence that was rarely heard during the day, if ever heard at all.
Taylor could not sleep. He lay back on his bed and considered. Two months' worth of pictures down the drain in a Calcutta alley. That Nikon had been with him everywhere. From the cold and damp of Katmandu to the sand and heat of Rajasthan. And Agra, where he'd discovered that one in a million shot of the Taj Mahal. It wasn't a shot of Japanese and Euro tourists milling about, talking on cell phones, snapping their snapshots, distracted, dressed so twenty-first century. Missing the beauty, not listening to the silence
It was later, at dusk.
There was a young girl and an old woman dressed in saris, both brown and armed with glittering gold bangles, standing near the reflecting pool in front of the Taj. A flock of white doves flew behind them in a pattern and circled. That shot could have been taken one hundred years ago, stealing their souls with a view camera on a tripod or taken one-five-hundredth of a second ago at F16 with a 35mm digital wonder. Memories you couldn't tell. Timeless. Irreplaceable.
And that crowded street during the wedding. The front of the Rolls first, the chromium hood ornament lady second, then the uniformed driver, then the couple in the back seat. Both dressed like royalty. He had just lifted her veil and they were kissing. Thank God for motor drives. He'd caught them all in four rapid-fire images as they sped past. It was like a sporting event. So much cheering and shouting going on, so much confusion. They passed by so fast he didn't have a chance to find out their names. Now he never would.
Now his visual memories of the Grand Trunk Road were reduced to a small heap of expensive Japanese steel and glass, crushed into an Indian sub-continent gutter, reduced to tiny bits of techno-trash.
On the other hand, tonight there was a two year old girl named Lakshmi sleeping snug in her bed, dreaming of her blue Vishnu appearing again, as he did most every night. Even more timeless, even more irreplaceable.
He fell asleep only after he felt contentment. He knew karma-wise he'd made out on the deal.
It was easy to identify the Hokaido Maru. Her name was painted on the bow in red which
contrasted with the black on her hull. The anchor-chain port was rusted orange.
They were still loading her with pallets of valuable exotic woods in the main hatch. He had time to observe the port. There was plenty of business going down on the water. Sampans taxiing sailors and selling all sort of things. A few Arab dhows were anchored nearby, captained by modern-day Sinbads. Slim customers every one of them, running gold from the East Coast of Africa. Always trying to evade the duties by keeping a lookout for customs men, usually sharp-eyed, bearded, tall-turbaned Sikhs.
Many freighters, multi-nationals, loading and unloading, were about. The smell in the air was the sea and fish and diesel exhaust. It was as crowded on the water as on the streets of the city itself.
He could have seen it all at a glance. Instead he saw, standing on the dock not fifty yards away, only one thing. A girl. She'd caught his eye because of her brightness. The hem of her white diaphanous dress was fluttering on the sea breeze. Then her hat, with its wide brim, flew from her head. She screamed and like lightning took a step and caught its' blue ribbon. This accident revealed hair the color of flax. It came past her shoulders and shined like three hundred Spartan shields in the sun. Movement, sound, and light are what catches a man's eye. His had been captured in this fashion.
"She's a warrior."
That's what he thought. Men have the strangest thoughts about women they don't know and even stranger thoughts about women they do. Familiarity breeds secrets, not contempt. And secrets breed strange thoughts. She climbed the companionway to board and when Taylor did ten minutes later they were the only two who got on with tickets in Calcutta.
It would be only fair to mention there was one other who boarded their ship. He snuck on quietly that night when no one was watching, slithering from one shadow to another and instead of making his way up to the main deck. he avoided the paying passengers and crew and climbed below in the hatch to find a place to hide. Hunted most of his life, he was used to being an outcast in the society of men and now he was a stowaway. His cold calm eyes worked well in the dark and when he found a place in the teakwood where there were bamboo leaves he fashioned a bed as best he could and slept like a king in exile.
At dinner that night Taylor was the last
to arrive in the small dining room. At one table sat the captain
and the first mate. At another table was a couple, looking very
prim, most probably missionaries. He didn't want to be converted
just then so he kept searching for an empty seat at a
A man in uniform sat alone at a table that had two empty places. When Taylor asked if one of the seats was taken he stood up. He was short and middle-aged, slightly grey at the temples. His eyes were sharp as tacks. "I'm Bones, the ship's doctor. Best sit with me. You may need me," he smiled, "before this trip's over."
'My name's Taylor, and I'd be happy to share your table and your company."
They sat.
Bones looked him over, as if he'd started his examination. Within seconds he made an observation and diagnosis. He knew just what the boy needed.
"You'll be even happier when you see who our dining companion is."
Just then a steward placed a plate on the third spot.
"Where's the lady gone to, Bones?"
"Where they always go Ollie, to the powder room. But the wine is hers and the cognac is mine and you?"
He looked at Taylor.
"I'll have a Heineken. And whatever the doctor is having to eat."
Ollie adjusted the towel on his arm and disappeared.
Bones took a sip of Hennessey.
"There's a girl about your age on this trip. Quite a beauty I'd say. Gives good conversation too.
He motioned somewhere behind Taylor with his cognac glass while he swirled it. Taylor turned around and saw something shimmering across the room. It was a mirage, a lovely mirage at sea swinging straight for them like a miraculous green-sequined storm.
"See what I mean?"
All Taylor could do was swallow. Then he composed himself and took a breath. It was the girl from the dock. All dressed up. The first dinner on board looked mighty good to him, and he hadn't even tasted a morsel. Bones stood up an announced formally,
"Miss Paige , Mister Taylor. Mister Taylor, Miss Paige.
"Pleased to meet you," he said out of habit. He was nervous as a man with a toothache outside his dentist's office. But he was sweet as sweet can be.
"Charmed, I'm sure." she syrupped back. Her voice flowed like autumn honey.
"How long were you in India?" asked the doctor.
"Eight weeks. But only two days in Calcutta. I just got off the Grand Trunk Road."
They turned to the girl.
"I'm on my way to Angkor Watt to photograph and record Khymer architecture. From 968 to 1001 AD. Jayavarman V reigned there. At his court lived philosophers, scholars and artists. He built new temples. The most important is Banteay Srei. Some people think it's one of the most beautiful and artistic of Angkor." said she.
Bones looked at both of them. He admitted, as he took a hit of Hennessey,
"Angkor reminds me of that hidden city overrun with the monkey people in the movie Jungle Book I saw when I was a kid."
And he sipped a sip once more.
She looked alert and proclaimed, "I love Kipling."
Taylor nodded and stated enthusiastically, "The Korda Brothers made brilliant productions. I like The Man Who Would be King too."
"I found it rather puerile!" she exuded playfully and broke out laughing. Then sobered,
"But Jungle Book is a classic. I agree."
Either she was enthusiastic or the wine had hit her. Her eyes glittered,
"I liked it when they fell into the treasure room in the hidden city where the piles gold and jewels were protected by an ancient cobra."
"Now that was India!" Bones roared, his Hennessy taking full effect.
Taylor stood up and raised his Heineken. He was feeling the barley and malt and maybe his wild oats too.
"To India."
"To India, and Kipling" she added, and touched his bottle with an audible "clink" of her glass.
She liked clinking her glass in public.
"To both of 'em!" stumbled Bones, who was now quite tipsy. Yet he soldiered on with her interrogation,
"And what's your story? How did you end up on a freighter with two pirates like us for companions? Why aren't you on a cruise with a group of stuffy old tourists?"
"I'm my father's daughter, that's all. My mother's been gone since I was two. My father worked on oil rigs all over the world and drug me everywhere he went following oil strikes. Before he died he made enough to send me to Stanford. I've been around the blue marble more than once. Now for my thesis on the Khymers I'm off to Angkor Watt."
"A blonde crazy-beautiful grad student with me on the Indian Ocean, and close enough to touch. What could be better?
Dinner was spiced by good conversation. Only one day, one hour, and they were shipmates. Sometimes there's a storm and the sea gets rough. The wireless goes out. The satellite link may go down. People depend on each other for amusement and support. Good shipmates make for a good voyage and lucky ones are even better. Every sailor knows that.
After eating he returned to his cabin and decided to make an entry in his journal before falling asleep. His pilot pen was missing from his pocket. So was the packet of spice. A quick search turned up nothing.
"Damn," was the last word uttered before he fell out, and even then he had trouble sleeping. He'd developed a fever. Not from a bacterium or a virus you understand, but by the flame Paige carried the moment it touched his heart.
The stowaway woke up hungry. There was no way he'd reveal his presence and dine with the crew or the passengers. He was like he always was, solitary and on his own. His pantry would have to be the hold. He smelled monkeys nearby. When they spotted him they squealed and screamed monkey alerts. Lucky them, protected by a cage and a lock. Just then a fat rat scurried by disturbed by their chatter. Problem solved. This was no time to be particular about your eating habits.
Within days they were into routines they
never had anywhere else in the world but on a freighter in the
Indian Ocean. Taylor and Paige enjoyed each-other's company
immensely. Was something brewing? Or was it, according to Cole
Porter, "Just one of those things?"
When they collided on deck it was because he wasn't looking where he was going. Something smelly was wrapped around a chopstick in his hand. He was looking at his watch instead. Slamming, as it were, into her.
"What's that you've got?" she said, re-adjusting her bonnet.
"It's herring."
She ate pickled herring in Amsterdam once herself, across the canal from Anne Frank's house. Strangely enough she was holding a banana.
"Not pickled."
"Where you going with it, if I might ask?"
"Up on deck, come on."
They walked down the stairway then out on deck.
The reflections off the spotless canvas
roped to the rail and the shimmering sunlight on the water were
both blindingly bright. Her lashes, even half-closed, touched
each other like black-mascaraed peacock feathers, but still
weren't quite enough.
They strolled to the fantail and stood near the rail. He looked at his watch. It was almost eleven. The wind blew her golden curls in her face. Then, from nowhere, a huge albatross appeared.
"They're a sign of good luck," he informed her.
"Or bad luck if they're mistreated," she replied, "I've read my Coleridge."
"I'm not going to shoot him. Watch
He waved the chopstick in the air towards the huge bird like conductor at a symphony until it slipped off. The lucky winged creature caught the fish in midair.
"He's done it three days in a row now. I haven't the slightest idea how he knows what time it is.
It started off as an accident. But now it's our routine."
She was amused no end.
"Let me do it tomorrow?"
He looked in her blue eyes and laughed,
"Why not?"
She gave him a look he'd never seen
before, and before he could react, stepped towards him and placed
a sweet kiss right on his mouth. Her flavor was incomparably
"Since you've shown me yours then I'll show you mine. Come on."
She led him through several hatches and down flights of stairs, deeper and deeper into the ship. Finally they reached the main hold. It was dark and filled with a consignment of exotic teak and rosewood. An open space held an animal cage. When the animals heard her approach, they started chattering, well, like monkeys.
"These are Hanuman Langurs, off to some zoo in the States. Aren't they something?"
There's something about an informed woman that's appealing. Paige was a young sexy Barbara Walters. He tried to stay calm but his blood was up.
"They certainly are. I had no idea there were animals on board."
She liked being with a man in the
darkness, sharing secrets, and admitted,
"They went wild over the bananas, and sometimes I bring them grapes."
"Be careful, they might bite."
"I've never been bitten by anything, and I'm not about to start now. Besides, I think these are used to people. They're quite friendly."
"They probably caught them around a temple. They act like they've been hand fed."
So that became their routine. He'd feed the wild albatross that followed the ship and she fed the captured tame Langurs trapped in the hold. The ship slowly inched across the blue water. They played cards with the doctor who admitted he often had little to do. They read books from the ship's library while sitting in deck chairs and soaking up the sun, and eventually turned from pink sponges to lobsters.
When they stopped in Bangkok for a week it allowed the couple cross to Cambodian overland and see Angkor by moonlight. In order to light the sculpted faces of the Buddhas on the buildings they bribed one of the night guards and tied flashes to long bamboo poles, coloring the lights with cellophane. The guard had an ancient ghetto-blaster that took a dozen batteries and a tape from the old super group Cream blasting away.
It was surreal but so real. The guard was only nineteen, while the song, White Room, was forty-five years old and the ruined city almost one thousand. Its' faces of Buddha were caressed and then captured by the roots of fig trees nearly as old as the ruins themselves. Somehow it all fit. When she looked at him she noticed,
"Silver horses ran down moonbeams in your dark eyes."
And when he looked at her,
"Yellow tigers crouched in jungles in her dark eyes."
To make their dreams come true they decided to,
"Lie in the dark where the shadows run from themselves."
The setting did wonders for their romantic inclinations. Making love in a lost city hidden deep in the jungle, drenched in sweat in return for their passionate efforts, then showering together at the hotel, watching cool rivulets writhing down the sides of each-other's hot smooth bodies, as if the whole thing had been an erotic dream. Even time would find it impossible to wash away such memories. The Hokaido Maru, a simple island of rust on the ocean, could never be as dramatic.
Next it was Singapore, then Hong-Kong, and finally, Yokohama.
One afternoon in the salon they were playing a game of gin-rummy.
"You realize of course that we're following the route of Philieus Fogg," observed Bones.
"As long as it doesn't take eighty days," Paige replied.
"Not if we get off in San Francisco," Taylor said, and put down his cards on the table.
"Gin. This last bit to Frisco will be the longest leg of the trip so far."
"Really, I don't mind it taking time at all," Paige cooed, and placed her hand on his knee.
"I hope it takes all the time in the world," Taylor agreeably understated, "All the time in the world."
Bones looked at them both and reasoned,
"Oh, by George, yes. My diagnosis is correct. They have it bad."
The next day at breakfast the doctor announced,
"You two might want to go light on your stomachs. It looks like we're in for a blow."
"What, a storm of some sort?" Paige questioned.
"Yes, and if it bothers your stomach, I have Dramamine. That helps."
He said it so matter-of-factly he roused Taylor's suspicion. When they'd finished he held him up at the door.
"Will it be easy for the ship to weather? This ship is so big."
"Not as big as you think. I've looked at the radar. The word they're using is typhoon. Stay in your cabins, together if possible, and hold on to your hats and remember your where your lifejackets are."
"I see," then he thought of his charge.
"Then we should leave right now. I've got a bird to feed."
"There's isn't enough time."
"There is, if we hurry."
Out ran the cook from the kitchen. He'd been listening all the time. One herring on a chopstick and one bunch of red grapes. Once on deck they saw a huge bank of dark ominous clouds in the south. The wind was up and whitecaps appeared on the waves. At the fantail the albatross wasn't there. They ran down the stairway into the hold. The light in the hold was flickering, about to go out. The monkeys knew something was up and were panicking. When she got too close one reached out, knocked the grapes from her hand, scattering bunches all over the floor.
He went to the left and she to the right, nearer the teak consignment.
The old iron hull began creaking, the monkeys chattering, and sparks spit from the overhead light as it swayed back and forth. Then he heard,
"Oh my God."
And that was all.
Sparks flew in irregular bursts like machine gun fire and rained down in various parts of the hatch, making irregular patterns like cheap fireworks. The forward cargo hold, large as it was, seemed suddenly wet and cramped.
He saw her standing quite still. He stepped to one side to see what was in front of her. It couldn't be much; her thin body was blocking whatever it was entirely. Then he froze too.
At her height exactly, standing straight up, was the largest King Cobra he'd ever seen. It was twelve feet if it wasn't thirteen. Now moving his deadly head rhythmically side to side as if hypnotized by a flute he could never hear. His eyes glowed like twin emeralds of questionable value mounted carelessly in his black-shadowed face by the Devil himself. His dark forked tongue slithered in and out of his mouth.
His evil thoughts overcooking in his reptilian brain made him hiss like a tea kettle.
Paige couldn't take her eyes off the cold-blooded reptile.
"He's picking up our scent and tasting us, eyeing us."
Its gaze was cold and impartial, deadly as a Russian sniper in Stalingrad. Measuring and calculating their every possible move, like a grand master playing chess.
Then a roar so loud was heard through the steel-plated skin of the ship it echoed below decks. A flash blasted through every opening and hatchway, lightning so close they smelled the ozone. The overhead lamp sparked too. The monster struck. It hit her so hard on the shoulder it knocked her off her feet. The light flickered off again when thunder vibrated down the hull of the ship like a cat's evil purr from head to tail. When it flicked on he was gone.
Taylor held her in his arms.
"Are you alright?"
"No, I'm not alright. I hurt right here."
On her pale shoulder were two puncture wounds inches apart.
He gathered her up and began the climb the stairwell.
"Bones will know what to do."
It wasn't so much a statement as a prayer.
But when he looked down to see the hope it might inspire in her eyes they were closed. She'd already fainted. To take her the shortest way he cut across the deck and got drenched in the process. He could hardly think straight. Bones would have anti-venom, wouldn't he? Did ship's doctors carry such medicines?
He placed her down in the bunk and told Bones the story.
"Are you sure it was a cobra?"
Yes, Doc. And it was large.
Doc took her pulse and examined the wound.
"You can never tell. Sometimes they bite and don't inject venom. But the marks are there. So we know she's been bit, but we don't know how much venom was delivered."
He started an intravenous drip of Ringer's solution.
"The trouble is we've no antivenin. It takes between one and ten bottles. We don't even have one. We have to watch and pray. He put on his stethoscope and checked her breathing. It was slowing. Perspiration beaded on her forehead and cheeks.
"Not so good."
She opened her eyes. "Ooh, I'm sore."
"Sorry Paige, no morphine, it will compromise your breathing."
Her eyes took on a look of terror.
"What's going to happen to me?"
This time her voice sounded strained and constricted.
"I don't know, we'll just have to wait and see. There's how much you weigh to consider, and how much poison he delivered. What kind of shape you're in counts too.
"She doesn't weigh a thing," Taylor added. "And she's fine and healthy. She's a warrior."
He checked her breathing again, it was still slowing. Not good. Soon it would cease altogether.
"We can only treat the symptoms. It's going to be rough."
Bones took Taylor aside and said quietly,
"That's what cobra venom does, it stops your breathing, constricts your throat and suffocates you."
Just then she opened her eyes. They were as blue as ever but glazed, and when she spoke, you couldn't make out what she was saying. She put her thumb and first two fingers together and made circular motions in the air. It seemed to take all her effort.
"She wants to write something!"
Taylor reached into his inner coat pocket by habit for his Pilot pen. When it dawned on him it was empty he took the wet coat off and threw it in the corner. Bones picked it up and noticed something hard down by the bottom, caught between the lining and material.
"There's your pen," he said, and handed it back. "You must have a hole in your pocket."
Taylor felt inside and noticed the hole, then the pen, then something else.
A packet of paper. He handed it to Bones.
"What's this?"
"It's just what she needs. Remember the story I told you, about the Spice man and Ayurvedic medicine?"
"This is it?"
"I'll know when I need it," he told me. "Use it all, it's measured for you."
"If you think I'm pinning my hopes and the fate of this girl to an Indian street-merchant pharmacist, then lay down beside her right now, because you've gone crackers."
"You're trusting your patient to a system of medicine over three thousand years old, my intuition, and your own common sense. You said yourself the guy knew his medicine. It's time to trust yourself and me too."
Bones didn't say a word.
"How's she doing?"
Bones looked at his patient. She was white as could be, her lips were turning blue, when he listened to her breathing it was so slight it could hardly be heard through his instrument.
He knew she didn't have long, and that was a fact.
He examined the diploma that hung on his wall. Then he listened to the ship creaking and the wind howling outside like it wanted something from him, as if it were demanding to hand something over.
But not Bones. It wasn't his nature. He'd taken an oath.
He wasn't about to give anything up. Not the oath, not the girl, neither one. Sometimes he felt downright stubborn.
"We'll make an infusion of it, Taylor. She'll never be able to get it down her throat now anyway."
The two of them got busy. They boiled and strained it and filtered the remains then took a large syringe and plunged it into the mainline drop by drop. By now she was still but unconscious. She lay there pale and quiet as if she were a blond Snow White waiting for her crystal casket. The casket would never crystalize if these two men were to have their way.
Then they took her pulse every two minutes and listened to her lungs with the stethoscope. She started tossing hopelessly from one side to another. Her muscles were starved of oxygen.
Outside the wind howled like a hungry monster being deprived of its food. Rain hammered the sides of the ship like Agamemnon's steel-tipped arrows pelting the walls of Troy. The seas grew to enormous proportions and tossed the ship from side to side like a toy boat in a bathtub. Restless, ever restless, were the waters.
Bones took a bottle of Hennessy out of his medicine drawer and poured two glasses.
"Now," he said, "we'll wait and see."
Paige was in the bed lying still, but in her mind she was another place altogether doing thing after thing after thing. She was with the Calendar Prince, and found out from the lips of Princess Scheherazade herself, who although she told tales, never lied. She was sitting on a green silk pillow brocaded with red poppies. She felt detached and floating, like on the Sea and Sinbad's Ship. The Prince ordered the sail set to the Palace of a Thousand Delights. The wind in the sails of the dhow snapped rhythm with the canvas, and the lines were strumming sweetly like fifteen ouds. The song, hauntingly familiar. White seagulls darted in every direction. Their patterns of flight were choreographed by Rimsky Korsakov and no other. Then it seemed as if a mist had fallen. She couldn't see anything, but she could still hear the Prince's voice. At first, distant, and later, closer with each calling.
But wasn't she The Princess Paige?
"Paige can you hear me?"
Taylor and Bones scrutinized her intensely. Her eyelids fluttered. The tiny beads of perspiration were disappearing from her cheeks. Taylor placed the back of his hand on her forehead then turned to Bones and shook his head back and forth.
Bones took her temperature. It had plummeted back to normal. He listened to her lungs. The breathing seemed easier and stronger. She was sick, she looked like she'd been to Hell and back but she's wasn't dying, that was the thing.
Bones looked at the clock and noted:
"Start of recovery within four hours after crisis."
He reached for his Hennessey and poured Taylor a shot. They slumped back in their chairs.
When Bones woke up to go to his bunk he noticed Taylor was still holding her hand, though quite asleep himself, and she was breathing calm and steady, resting just as she should.
He suddenly noticed the quiet. He opened the hatch and stepped out on the deck. His eyes hurt from the light. But that was it, it was clear and bright, and the sea was calm as glass.
"How curious. Where did the storm go?"
He never did find out. And he really didn't care.
Three days later the Golden Gate was right where it always was.
Once they went under the Golden Gate Bridge things took a different turn. Like many lovers they moved in together. Their neighborhood was called the Western Addition and from the upstairs window they had a view of the bay.
When they first moved in together everything about the house was good. They liked the high ceilings. And the antique tub with the claw feet was a monument to white porcelain, they both agreed. The sink was a pedestal straight from Priam's palace and the floor was octagonal patterned black and white tiles laid out like a game board. What fun.
Stairs, they loved having stairs. There was something about stairs.
The bed was her first bed ever that was really hers. It had a curved headboard that was upholstered in leather. A pillow-top mattress with one million pillows. When she was at school he missed her. When he was home alone he'd lie on her side of the bed and look out the window seeing only blue sky, smelling the scent of her perfume on the sheets and pillows and taking comfort in that. During the day he'd work on the book but it was missing many of its photographs meant to accompany the text.
While she was at school her thoughts drifted to him and no one else. It was hard to keep her thoughts on her work. Her GPA dropped half a point in response.
They had a maple table with three chairs. The forth was lost long ago. They had a CD player and a TV that nobody watched except for the BBC news and a program simply called House.
The view of the bay and the other houses, all designed in another era, their cupolas and stained glass windows, made them look exotic and the shingles on their sides overlapped like leaves or fish scales and gave them texture. White columns supported their porches like slim Russian ballerinas gone pale from long sunless winters. Their bottoms were red brick painted white.
On hot summer nights they'd drink mint tea on the porch and smell the night-blooming jasmine. They'd lie in each other's arms on the porch swing that creaked a lullaby as it swung them to sleep.
Pacific sunsets, their reflections broken by the restless bay waters, made silhouettes of ships and bridges and buoys. They were memorable and dream-like at the same time, contradictions in both beauty and nature.
She spent her day at her classes and he would write his book that no longer had any illustrations. Then he'd send out query letters and wait for a positive reply. They never came, and rejections slips filled up most of his bottom desk drawer.
Yet as happy as they were at first, later the couple were changed. A kind of sadness crept into the house and they began to notice how damp it was, especially when the heat was off when it hadn't been paid. How cold it got in the early morning before dawn. The something about stairs was that they squeaked. The ancient fixtures in the bathroom leaked. The many many windows with romantic views were drafty and let in the wind. The doors stuck here and there, and the windows stuck too. Because of the cold they stayed in the bed to keep warm. That and for other reasons.
One year later a little girl was born. They'd planned her of course, but miscalculated on some minor point and she arrived early. They named her Lakshmi. She had his dark hair and her blue eyes.
He'd look for work every day. There were always possibilities he'd say. But not enough probabilities. Months went by. He grew despondent. She felt his stress and suffered herself due to her empathetic nature.
The neighbor next door was a woman whose son was a paparazzi in India. It was a large corner house and he sent her enough money to afford the mansion. When the neighborhood was first built it was exclusively Victorian mansions owned by single families with money. Now the buildings were divided up into apartments for people with less in their pockets. The woman lived in her large house alone and lonely, or as John Lennon once wrote, lonely alone.
She was grey-haired and traditional, wore colorful saris, a nose-ring and bangles and cooked food the way she liked it, which meant curried in many cases. She would blast Bollywood musicals every afternoon and night. Paige heard them from her kitchen. One day she went over to borrow tea from her neighbor. Ambika, an astonishingly beautiful woman in her youth, had been a homicide detective in Mumbai and lured many murdering demons to their deaths at the end of a rope. Paige noticed a photograph on the mantle mounted in a silver frame. It was of a young pretty woman in uniform, very prim and proper, being awarded a medal by a thin brown man wrapped in a toga of some sort, wearing wire-rimmed glasses. It was signed near the bottom in ink, "For services rendered, our thanks, Gandhi."
"They were convicted of homicide," she confided to Paige. "It was the law."
She made her sit down and watch an hour of the latest movie called Ravana.
"Look at that star," she'd say. "My son took his picture."
"You must be very proud of him."
The next week when Paige went over to borrow some rice it happened again. In a month or so the woman turned Paige into a fan of Bollywood musicals, and taught her how to make Saag, Tandoori chicken, Saffron rice, and for desert, Paan, which is Betel nut.
In the meantime, due to the constant rejections, Taylor's words grew bitter and then even more bitter, as if there were pennies in his mouth.
"There's nothing worse in the word than wasted talent," he confided one night over dinner.
"Yes darling, I agree," Paige would say and patted his hand. Hand-patting is fine but it doesn't pay the rent.
One afternoon when she was returning from school she saw a large enveloped stuffed in their mailbox. It was eight by ten inches and marked "do not bend please."
"Look Tay, we've got mail."
"It's nothing, just bills and rejections slips and junk mail, why bother?"
Paige was sick of his attitude. It needed an adjustment. She kicked the leg of his chair and threw the envelope on his lap.
"Not this one."
It wasn't heavy, just some papers and a lump in one corner. But the stamp and return address was interesting. It was labeled, "Premchand Chaterjee Lahiri Tagore, Calcutta, India. Taylor ripped it open.
"It's from Billy Fish!"
It read:
Dear Taylor,
Here are some pictures I know you'll enjoy. The camera was a total mess but the chip was only slightly damaged. A few pictures came out. I had them processed so you could see. I lost your address card and didn't find it until last week! One thousand apologies, old man. But, by George, I think you'll find they're jolly good pictures!
Lakshmi sends her love and blessings.
Respectfully yours,
Billy Fish
There were five in all. Lakshmi kicking the ball was first. The pictures of the wedding were next. The photo of the Taj Mahal at dusk was last.
Taylor was examining the one of the women in front of the Taj by the reflecting pool.
Paige was hypnotized by the ones of the wedding. She seemed to recognize the couple. She grabbed the photos and ran down the stairs to next door. Next thing you know the Indian woman had them in her face.
"Isn't this?"
"Oh yes! These are pictures of Aishwarya and Abhishek on their wedding day! In India they are more famous than Brad and Angelina. I've seen all of the pictures of the wedding but never these! My son told me that the Rolls Royce was supposed to take a certain street for the photographers, that the route was all worked out, but then it cut down an alleyway and disappeared."
"So this picture is unusual?"
"Rare is more like it! One of a kind! My son said that if he had got it, that first kiss after the ceremony, he'd be rich and wouldn't have to work for a year!"
When Paige told Taylor he was elated.
They sold it to the Times of India, The Mumbai Mirror, Pune Mirror, Bangalore Mirror, and the Ahmedabad Mirror. Then, again to the Navbharat Times. And lastly to The Hindu and Hindustan Times.
It made Taylor's reputation. Job offers floated in and so did book deals. The picture of the Taj Mahal was on the cover of the National Geographic a month later.
In the end I guess you could say they suffered a happy ending. It looked that way to me.
So what's in a name anyway? Wikipedia says:
Makes you want to consider carefully the name of your child doesn't it?
(" Taylor thought, but kept it to himself.Oh no, by gosh, I understand.". The tourist left on their buses.
Taylor locked his notebook in his suitcase and peered out the dirty window. The street below was narrow, the end of the road. His time spent wandering the Grand Trunk, the road Kipling called, "the road of Hindustan" where "all India spread out left and right" was over. Now it was Calcutta and the trip home. Adventure over.
He hung up his pith helmet and noticed the linen was still fairly white, but the brass pins which held the linen in place on the cork were rusted green from the climate. Two months in India trying to establish his credentials as a photo-journalist were hardly enough. Now there were only the notes left to work on and the film chip to be downloaded and printed. Back to the nasty computer. Days of trying to be the twenty-first century Kipling were finished.
He'd signed aboard a slow steamer, the Hokaido Maru, a rust bucket by any honest man's description. Not a slow boat to China mind you, a steamer to San Francisco that stopped at several ports along the way. The fare was cheap, food included. Food full of iron from the rust in case you were feeling a little anemic. But that was tomorrow.
Now he was hungry and down to his very last dollar. He cut it too close this time. He decided to look for a cheap food stall. To get there he crossed a street lined with spice sellers. Piles of unidentifiable stuff surrounded him like a beautiful constrictor. Ever since he was a child, since before he could walk, he'd been intrigued by piles of unidentifiable stuff.
"I like the look of these piles of stuff."
Twenty-two years later and he still hadn't changed. Sometimes he'd wander through junk yards taking pictures of unidentifiable car parts. But this stuff was different. These piles didn't smell like rusting metal and rubber and black dirty oil. These were colorful and fragrant. He turned the corner and wandered into a street even more stuffed and narrow with all kinds of goods smelling good to take a closer look.
And why not? He had his camera.
People everywhere schlepping. Mostly men with plump heavy sacks balanced on their shoulders and heads. Endless bicycles. Tiny trucks with corrugated iron roofs piled high with more sacks of spice squeezed between one thousand and one motor bikes slipping between them whenever they got a chance. Rickshaws pedaled by strong brown paper-thin men. Dark-haired women with even darker eyes wearing colorful saris. Here, shopping and evaluating. There, looking ,smelling, tasting and touching. Then, both closely watching the weighing. Click.
Dark-haired men in tropical suits with sweat-stained armpits abounded. Their hands grasped scuffed brown-leather briefcases. Attorneys on their way home from court were always prepared to haggle with shop-keepers until they dropped from the heat. Click.
So many textures and shapes and smells and colors. It set his head reeling. He was weak from a bad case of Delhi-Belly and had to sit down on a small wall. He felt faint. He couldn't even think in whole sentences. His eyes closed.
"Cup of tea?" a voice offered.
"I can't afford…"
"No charge sir, it's only a cup of herb tea. Cardamom and Turmeric. Good for the belly."
He opened his eyes and there was a man. Age had peppered his hair. He was short and exuded power, even though he wasn't what the novelist call "powerfully built." His eyes sparkled with goodness.
"If you're sure there's no charge…"
"Oh by gosh, no sir. This is what you American's call, on the house. Here, sit here please."
The short fellow took him in hand and led him away
from the street. It was suddenly quiet. Now he was drinking dark
sweet tea from a porcelain cup with a chipped rim that he felt on
the tip of his lip. It tasted good, whatever it was. He was
sipping tea, but taking a breath of fresh air at the same time.
He felt refreshed and alert.
A small baby girl, just a toddler, was playing with a blue ball one half her size. There were plump bags stacked against the walls and piles of colorful spices and herbs displayed neatly on white linen squares on dark wooden tables. Click.
"Is this your shop?"
"Yes Sir, forever."
"Your daughter?"
"Oh my, no," he said clearly flattered, "My granddaughter, Lakshmi, Sir."
Toddlers can be charming. She wanted the ball but each time she approached it her toes hit it long before her hands could reach and forced her to chase after. The ball was teaching her to walk.
They turned to each other. When their smiles met, he noticed a certain amount of pride in the man's brown eyes just past the sparkle.
"But, forgive my rudeness and allow me to present myself."
He stepped closer, stood at attention and offered his hand.
"I'm Billy Fish."
"And I'm Taylor, Mr. Fish."
"Just call me Billy. I was born Premchand Chaterjee Lahiri Tagore. But everyone here finds that hard to pronounce, much less remember. I'm a Gurka you know."
He dared not give the full name a try and remarked,
"I see what you mean. Well then, Billy it is. But why Fish?"
His face took a serious turn. "Oh, because I like fish very much. It is a fact. I like them steamed with lemon and garlic, or fried with chips then wrapped in a page from the Times."
"I see. You know this tea is very good. I've been traveling and I picked up a bug somewhere. My stomach feels fine now."
"Ah," he said, "That would be this,"
He pointed at the pile of Cardamom in the corner.
"It is called the Queen of the Spices. It has a calming effect and is good for the digestion. And I add a pinch of this."
He pointed to a yellow pile of Turmeric.
"And this."
Sweet brown carob pods sat in a bowl.
"Then I add Sarsaparilla root and ginger for flavor. You know Sir, it's very true what Mary Poppins once said, "A spoon full of sugar makes the medicine go down."
" I agree. You certainly know your spices and herbs."
"By gosh yes. I have studied. It's all based on Ayurvedic medicine. They're not my formulas you know, they've been around for over three thousand years.
He heard a note of pride in his voice. It wasn't a personal pride, like his eyes showed about his granddaughter. It was the pride of a man in his culture.
The toddler was kicking the ball here and there, all around the shop.
"Even in the world of medicine, there are fads. Some things come and go. But these herbs and spices have been here before. They are here now and will be here in the future. These plants are much older than us."
They looked at each other and then to Lakshmi.
She'd made three circuits of the shop while they were talking.
"Like her," Taylor said. He felt quite lucid now, no longer fatigued. "Playing in a circle."
"Yes, Sir, in a circle. We're all in a circle of some sort. Like the wheel of life.Sanskrit: लक्ष्मी [ˈləkʃmi], Tamil: Hindu goddess of wealth, prosperity (both material and spiritual), light, wisdom, fortune, fertility, generosity and courage; and the embodiment of beauty, grace and charm. Representations of Lakshmi are also found in Jain monuments. Mahalakshmi is said to bring good luck. She is believed to protect her devotees from all kinds of misery and money-related sorrows..லட்சுமி letchumi) is the lakṣmī,Hindi pronunciation:
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East Union and Myrtle faced tough opponents in the second round of the playoffs on Saturday, falling to Hamilton and Smithville, respectively.
The Lady Urchins were unable to hold on to its lead in the first game of its series, eventually falling 11-3.
Mallory Roberts had a double to open the game and scored on an error later in the frame. East Union extended that lead to 3-1 after the second inning, but the Lady Lions scored 10 runs over the final three innings to take the win.
Hamilton took the series, shutting out the Lady Urchins, 6-0, in game two.
The Lady Lions scored its first run in the second inning, and added on to that, scoring three in the third inning and two in the fourth after loading the bases with one out. Mallory Roberts led the Lady Urchins with two hits in the second game.
Myrtle's season ended at home against Smithville, falling 13-1 and 2-0.
The Lady Seminoles' offense came alive in the second inning of its 13-1 game one win. Scoring six runs on as many hits, the Lady 'Noles had three RBI doubles in the frame. Smithville scored seven runs over the next two innings and ended the game after five innings. Myrtle's lone run came on a bases loaded single from Emily Cook with two outs in the third.
Myrtle's defense tightened up in game two of the series, but the Lady Seminoles advanced, winning 2-0.


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guitar tabs, guitar chords and lyrics
Public books
My songbook
Book 02 Uptempo
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It's startling how many songs you can play without being a guitar hero! As long as you know them of course :o) SO just play the ones you know out of the 600+ in 'my books' and don't give up.
The young ones (Cliff Richard)
1973 (James Blunt)
500 Miles (Proclaimers)
Always Look on the Bright Side of Life (Monty Python)
Baby jane (Rodney Steward)
Bad Boys (Inner Circle)
Bailamos (Enrique Iglesias)
Bang On The Ear (Waterboys)
Black velvet band (Misc. Traditional)
Brimful Of Asha (Cornershop)
BROWN EYED GIRL (Van Morrison)
Chiquitita (Abba)
Come Dancing (Kinks)
Cottonfields (Beach Boys)
Cracklin Rosie (Neil Diamond)
Crocodile rock (Elton John)
Dance The Night Away (Mavericks)
Daydream Believer-crd (Anne Murray)
Do It Again (Beach Boys)
Down Under (Men At Work)
Faith (George Michael)
Fernando (Abba)
Friday Im In Love (Cure)
Gimme Hope Joanna (Eddy Grant)
going up the country (Canned Heat)
Good Tradition (Tanita Tikaram)
Happy Heart (Andy Williams)
Help Yourself (Tom Jones)
Lambada (Misc. Unsigned Bands)
lang (Bay City Rollers)
lay down (Strawbs)
Let Your Love Flow (Bellamy Brothers)
Loves A Mystery (Pretenders)
Lyin Eyes (Eagles)
Maggie May (Wet Wet Wet)
Maggie May (Rod Stewart)
Making Your Mind Up (Bucks Fizz)
Man In The Rain (Mike Oldfield)
Mmmbop (Hanson)
Moonlight Shadow (Mike Oldfield)
Peaceful Easy Feeling (Eagles)
Que Sera Sera (Various Artists)
Raindrops Keep Fallin On My Head (B.J. Thomas)
Rhythm Of My Heart (Rod Stewart)
Rivers Of Babylon (Boney M)
Save Your Kisses For Me (Brotherhood Of Man)
Sloop John B (K. Relient)
Super Trouper (Abba)
sweat (Inner Circle)
Take A Chance On Me (Abba)
The lion sleeps tonight crd (Lyrics)
THE WINNER TAKES (Abba)
This Old House (Various Artists)
Tragedy (Bee Gees)
Wake up little susie (Everly Brothers)
Walking in Memphis (Marc Cohn)
Way Down (Elvis Presley)
We Love To Boogie (T Rex)
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5 popular songs
Man On The Moon
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Rocket Piano is a good way to learn not just the piano but also music in general. Rock Star Recipes are the architects behind this product, and have promised that Rocket Piano will teach you how to play any kind of piano whether a keyboard or an acoustic model and deliver even more than that. This product has been touted to be all you need to know hoe to compose and play piano music from the comforts of your own home instead of having to hire a piano teacher or attend piano classes. It promises revolutionary tactics not used before for making sure you become a stellar pianist whether you are a novice or have some experience. Is all this true? That's why we have to go through the features of this product first before we can advise any of our readers to consider it.
We at reviewout are focused to bring you the most neutral and informative reviews about as many products sold online as possible. Our experience in the review industry stretches to over 5 years. The product on the spot today is Rocket Piano.
The Upside of Rocket Piano
These are the factors upon our investigation that we found will please our readers:
- The product teaches not only teaches how to play the piano, but also how to how to compose and play your own piano music.
- With over 12 months of instructional manuals, this product will serve both amateurs and professional pianists and help them upgrade their skill. Most of other learn-piano products often focus on the professional seeking to hone his skills.
- Rocket Piano is backed by numerous positive reviews of the users who have used. With so many voices endorsing it, you can't go wrong about it.
- A number of additional resource books and CDs come in the Rocket Piano package e.g. Perfect Your Pitch Pro. These help you with your lessons.
The Downside of Rocket Piano
These are a few of the things that Rock Star Recipes should improve on:
- We did feel that Rocket Piano was a bit pricey compared to other products of the same nature in the market.
Conclusion about Rocket Piano
The upsides of the product have held out better than the downside so the best you can do is to try the product if you love piano music. You don't stand to lose much, after all, because Rocket Piano comes with a genuine 60 day money-back guarantee.
Recommended Reading
Rocket Piano
10 out of
based on
6 ratings.


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PEC Event Request Form (Non-PG&E Organizations)
Use this form to request a space for your event at the PEC. We will contact you to confirm and/or to gather more information. Submitting this form does not automatically guarantee space or equipment availability. Please read the first paragraph of the Event Planning home page for more information about who can use the PEC. To contact the Event Planning staff, please send a message to email@example.com.


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This thread is in response to a review for NASCAR 2011: The Game on the Xbox 360. You are encouraged to view the review in a new window before reading this thread.
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Author: CoarseDragon
Posted: April 21, 2011 (02:37 PM)
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Good review. It is always nice to know how well a racing game does in the handling department and I think you nailed that. As a non-fan myself I will not pick this one up. I would not know any of that trivia anyway.
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AmeriPath North Texas is a premier, full-service anatomic pathology lab located in Dallas, Texas. We offer a broad range of testing and information services used by physicians in the detection, diagnosis, evaluation and treatment of cancer and other diseases. Commonly employed methodologies include special stains, FISH, PCR, flow cytometry, and cytogenetics.
AmeriPath North Texas' staff of board-certified physicians possesses experience and expertise in a variety of key pathology subspecialties. Our continuing commitment is to provide the very best personalized support services that will, inevitably, result in the optimization of patient treatment and disease management.
AmeriPath's national resources enable AmeriPath North Texas to provide cutting edge technologies locally, leading to definitive and detailed diagnostic and prognostic information.
AmeriPath is a national physician-based organization that delivers health care locally. We achieve this via a network of more than 350 board-certified pathologists who serve in over 50 regional and satellite laboratories and some 200 hospitals throughout the nation. AmeriPath's pathologists play a vital role in the local medical communities in which they serve — a role that is markedly enhanced by the resources, support, and pooled expertise of our entire firm.


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Book: What to Do When You're Scared and Worried: A Guide for Kids
Source: Amazon (588)
Mom Rating
Ages: 8+ years
In: BooksAuthor: James J. Crist
By Book Description
From a fear of spiders to panic attacks, kids have worries and fears, just like adults. But while adults have access to a lot of helpful information, that hasn't been true for kids—until now. Drawing on his years of experience helping children deal with anxiety, Dr. James Crist has written a book that kids can turn to when they need advice, reassurance, and ideas. He starts by telling yo...
Similar activities:Book: What to Do When You Worry Too Much: A Kid's Guide to Overcoming Anxiety (What to Do Guides for Kids), Book: A Smart Girls Guide to Friendship Troubles, Book: Art for Kids: Drawing: The Only Drawing Book You'll Ever Need to Be the Artist You've Always Wanted to Be (Art for Kids), Book: What's Going on Down There?: Answers to Questions Boys Find Hard to Ask, Books to teach kids manners, Book: Diary of a Spider, Book: Giraffes Can't Dance, Book: "What's Happening to Me?" A guide to puberty, Book: Cars and Trucks and Things That Go (Giant Little Golden Book), Book: Guiding Children's Learning of Mathematics (with CD-ROM and InfoTrac ), Book: Castle: Medieval Days and Knights (A Sabuda & Reinhart Pop-up Book), Book: 11 Practice Tests for the SAT and PSAT, 2007 (College Test Prep), Book: The Official Study Guide for All SAT Subject Tests (Real Sats), Book: The 6 Most Important Decisions You'll Ever Make: A Guide for Teens, Book: APA: The Easy Way!
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One of only two remaining headstones from the original cemetery is that of the Rev. L.D. Elliott Sr., who was born in 1844 and died in 1922. His headstone reads "Gone but not forgotten."
- Filed Under
It may not merit designation and restoration as a historic site.
But it is an interesting piece of Tallahassee history out there at the east end of the runway at the Tallahassee Regional Airport: a cemetery containing more than 109 bodies of black people, including presumably many born into slavery.
The cemetery has been there — unnoticed by most passersby — since 1940. But it's only recently that Delaitre Hollinger, a high-school student, history buff and journalist, began efforts to have the cemetery restored and recognized as a slave cemetery. ...


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#1 Lupe Fiasco thrown offstage during pre-inauguration event after anti-Obama rant01-21-2013, 10:25 AM
Rapper Lupe Fiasco was thrown offstage and escorted off the premises of a Washington, D.C. concert hall during a pre-inauguration concert Sunday night, after going on an anti-war, anti-Obama rant, according to concertgoers.
Josh Rogin, a reporter with Foreign Policy magazine, tweeted late Sunday, Lupe Fiasco just got thrown off stage here at the Hamilton Live after he went on an anti-Obama diatribe mid set.
So Lupe played one anti-war song for 30 min and said he didnt vote for Obama, he continued, and eventually was told to move on to the next song Lupe refused to move to the next song so a team of security guards came on stage and told him to go.
Another attendee at the StartUp RockOn event tweeted, Things going terribly wrong at @lupefiasco performance during#SURO. Kicked off stage, bashing obama
This isnt the first time the rapper, born Wasalu Muhammad Jaco, has been vocal about his dislike for the president.
During an interview with CBS in 2011, he called the president a terrorist. Lupe said, My fight against terrorism, to me, the biggest terrorist is Obama and the United States of America. Im trying to fight the terrorism thats actually causing the other forms of terrorism.
You know, the root cause of terrorism is the stuff the U.S. government allows to happen. The foreign policies that we have in place in different countries that inspire people to become terrorists.
Lupe has also criticized Obamas stance on the Israeli-Palestinian conflict and has stated that he does not vote in elections because of his anti-establishment views.
StartUp Rock On, the concerts organizers, claimed shortly after 2:00 a.m. Monday that Lupe left the stage earlier than we had planned. But Lupe Fiasco was not kicked off stage for an anti-Obama rant.
We are staunch supporters of free speech, and free political speech, the organizers said. This was not about his opinions. Instead, after a bizarrely repetitive, jarring performance that left the crowd vocally dissatisfied, organizers decided to move on to the next act.
http://dailycaller.com/2013/01/21/re...ti-obama-rant/In Memory Of My Friend 1st Sgt. Tim Millsap A Co, 70th Eng. Bn. 3rd Bde 1st AD...K.I.A. 25 April 2005
Liberalism Is The Philosophy Of The Stupid
To Achieve Ordered Liberty You Must Have Moral Order As Well
The libs/dems of today are the Quislings of former years. The cowards who would vote a fraud into office in exchange for handouts from the devil.
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How this chat works
Click "Watch Now" below to view the Pack-San Diego live chat tonight at 7 p.m..
Post a comment in the window at the bottom.
You may need to scroll down in the blog window to see the latest posts. They should update automatically, but if you use Explorer, it's a little slower than Firefox.
To comment, just give yourself a name and then type in your message. All comments will be moderated. Offensive, hostile or ALL CAPS comments will be rejected.
Nevada takes on West Coast Conference upstart San Diego tonight at 7 p.m. at the Jenny Craig Pavilion. Follow the game in a live chat with Pack fans at www.rgj.com/pack.
We'll start at 7 p.m.; tipoff is at 7:05 p.m.
Click on the link below to join in.


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This site is designed to allow you to browse the archive of articles of the annual Pre-Trib Research Center study group conferences and other writings. The articles can be viewed online or downloaded in PDF version for convenient offline reading or printing.
Looking for the blessed hope and the appearing of the glory of our great God and Savior, Christ Jesus - Titus 2:13
On behalf of the Pre-Trib Research Center, Dr. Tim LaHaye would like to announce that Dr. Thomas Ice is returning full-time as Exec. Director, effective immediately.
To schedule Thomas Ice to speak at your church or event, you can contact him at (940) 597-8811 or firstname.lastname@example.com


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WILLOW CREEK (Refugio County). Willow Creek, also known as Arroyo Sauz, rises 3½ miles northeast of Vidaurri in eastern Refugio County (at 28°29' N, 97°06' W) and runs southeast eight miles to its mouth on Salt Creek (at 28°19' N, 97°00' W). The surrounding flat terrain to rolling scarps are surfaced by firm clay loam that supports mixed hardwoods and scrub brush.
The following, adapted from the Chicago Manual of Style, 15th edition, is the preferred citation for this article."WILLOW CREEK (REFUGIO COUNTY)," Handbook of Texas Online (http://www.tshaonline.org/handbook/online/articles/rbwbe), accessed November 29, 2015. Uploaded on June 15, 2010. Published by the Texas State Historical Association.
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The Magazine
The New York Times's Meltdown
From the May 26, 2003 issue: What explains it?
May 26, 2003, Vol. 8, No. 36 • By CHRISTOPHER CALDWELL
New York
In late April, the editor of the San Antonio Express-News read a story by young Times reporter Jayson Blair about Juanita Anguiano, the mother of an Iraq war MIA. He found that large tranches of it had been plagiarized from an article by an Express-News reporter--who had, coincidentally or not, known Blair as an intern at the Times half a decade before. Blair's editors were alarmed, but not all of them were surprised. A smart, affable, 27-year-old black kid from the upper-middle-class suburbs of Washington, D.C., Blair had always had a reputation within the paper as a sloppy reporter. Now, internal investigations for plagiarism showed an almost unbelievable pattern of deceit. For months and even years, Blair had invented quotations and descriptions. He had lifted material from other journalists without attribution. He had faked whole trips, penning stories from his Brooklyn apartment, relying on a New York Times bank of unpublished photographs to help him set the scene.
Blair had written about 700 stories for the Times since leaving the University of Maryland (from which, unbeknownst to his future employers, he did not graduate). A full accounting is still in progress, but a 7,200-word article assembled by a seven-man Times team of writers, editors, and lawyers and published on Sunday, May 11, found that at least 36 of 73 stories Blair filed since October are substantially invented, stolen, or factually compromised, including at least 29 with fraudulent datelines. In a story datelined Palestine, West Virginia, Blair described the way Iraq war hero Jessica Lynch's father "choked up as he stood on his porch here overlooking the tobacco fields and cattle pastures, and declared that he remained optimistic." Had Blair ever gone to Palestine, West Virginia, he would have discovered that the Lynch house was nowhere near tobacco fields. Washington Post media critic Howard Kurtz came up with five people--including three soldiers' parents--with whom Blair had faked interviews, and even identified an instance when, as a cub reporter for the Boston Globe, he had lifted an interview with Washington mayor Anthony Williams from the Post.
Blair had been in a lot of trouble of late. In November, he wrote a story about how certain universities exaggerate football attendance in order meet the minimum levels for Division I-A status. The athletic director at Kent State claimed he'd been quoted without having talked to Blair. In December, Virginia state attorney Robert Horan Jr. called a press conference to address an alleged "leak" in the D.C. sniper investigation reported by Blair, and indicated he suspected a fabrication. "I don't think that anybody in the investigation is responsible for the leak, because so much of it was dead wrong," Horan said. Blair is now the target of a U.S. attorney's investigation, the Times announced last week. (One can speculate--and it is only speculation--that Blair's report of nonexistent irregularities in the sniper investigation might involve obstruction of justice.)
Yet, although several Times editors had been alarmed at the slipshod quality of Blair's work, although he had even been reprimanded, he kept getting promoted, formally and informally, first to a regular position at the paper, then to some of the biggest national stories of the day, from the Washington sniper to the domestic fallout from the Iraq war. How could the Times have been so blind? Several explanations were put forward in the days after Blair resigned in early May: (1) that Blair had been protected by a left-drifting Times hierarchy bent on racial diversity; (2) that Blair rose thanks to the corruption and mismanagement of the Times itself; (3) that Blair was a con man of rare gifts; and (4) that Blair's misdeeds were just one manifestation of a continuing crisis in American journalism. Any of those reasons would have been sufficient to draw Times reporters to the closed meeting at the Astor Theater on Wednesday, and they will be sufficient to keep the Blair scandal roiling long beyond that.
1. The Race Explanation


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LOL!! This kid sounds cool. I wonder if those people with the Elijah Wood autographs will ever find out the truth...
contactmusic.comHARRY POTTER star DANIEL RADCLIFFE is having a difficult time as he films in Australia - because local fans keep mistaking him for ELIJAH WOOD.
The 16-year-old English actor is currently filming DECEMBER BOYS on Kangaroo Island, Australia, and is shocked when people believe he is the 24-year-old LORD OF THE RINGS star.
Radcliffe explains, "So often people shout out, 'Hey, FRODO!' as they think I'm Elijah - who frankly is a very good-looking guy so I take it as a compliment.
"I admit when a couple of people have put have put autograph books under my nose I've signed them, 'Much love, Elijah Wood.'
"It would be a bit deflating for me if I told them the truth and they said, 'Don't bother signing it then.'"
LOL!! This kid sounds cool. I wonder if those people with the Elijah Wood autographs will ever find out the truth...
Value the future on a timescale longer than your own. -Richard Dawkins
He kind of looks like him--so I can see the mix up, lol.
They should do a movie together & play brothers.
"I've cautiously embraced jeggings"
Emma Peel aka Pacific Breeze aka Wilde1 aka gogodancer aka maribou
Yip, yip, yip in your tiny indignation. Bark furiously on, lady dog.
they'd look even more alike if daniel got rid of that ridiculous penis hair
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Drivers who usually use the Lea Joyner Bridge will be forced to find alternate routes starting Saturday. The Louisiana Department of Transportation and Development announced the bridge will be closed to replace the bridge's bearings. / Dacia Idom/The News-Star
Turn to us
The News-Star will be your guide for whats happening when the Lea Joyner Bridge closes for repairs. At 1:30 p.m. Wednesday at thenewsstar.com, well have a special online chat with Albert Paxton and other officials from Louisiana State Police about the bridge closure. Keep up with whats happening with our text alerts on your mobile device, online at thenewsstar.com, on Facebook and Twitter, and in print.
Find more details. Page 10A
At thenewsstar.com: We will have live video of rush hour traffic and an area of the site dedicated to all things related to the bridges closing.
Alerts and updates: Well send out tweets, text alerts and Facebook updates during rush hours about traffic conditions and suggest the best routes.
Tell us what you think: Well invite you to join the conversation about the bridge closing on Facebook and live chats. Share with us any problems you encounter or any tips you discover to help make life easier during the construction.
Let us help you get through the summer of disruption and find the easiest ways to get around the Twin Cities.
The day Ouachita Parish motorists have dreaded looms as the Department of Transportation and Development this week urges residents to prepare for the eight-week closure of the Lea Joyner Bridge beginning Saturday.
This summer the Lea Joyner Bridge on Louisville Avenue will be closed for two separate four-week periods for critical repairs, the first time for such extended closures in the bridges more than 80-year history.
The first closure will begin June 1 and will remain in effect approximately four weeks. The bridge will then reopen to traffic until the second four-week closure, which begins July 10.
Marshall Hill, administrator for DOTDs Monroe District Office, said bridge has to be shut down for crews to replace the bridge bearings used to raise and lower the draw bridge for river traffic. Bearings will be replaced on both the eastbound and westbound side of the bridge.
He said the closures werent planned until contractors discovered the main bearings needed to be replaced. Contractors found the problem while working on the second phase of a $21.6 million rehabilitation project. The bearing replacement will cost an additional $3 million, with funding approved by the Federal Highway Commission.
River barge traffic will not be impeded as work will be conducted while both spans of the draw bridge are up, Hill said.
Susan Stafford, DOTD public information officer, said people should have detours already planned out.
People just have to be patient and plan ahead during the bridges closures, Stafford said.
John Eason, DOTD district traffic engineer, said close monitoring of traffic and adjustments to traffic control will be necessary throughout the bridge closure.
The traffic redistribution on the local street system and approaches to the Endom Bridge and Interstate 20 will be difficult to predict, Eason said.
Approximately 40,000 vehicles cross the bridge each day, but those drivers will have to find alternative routes. Motorists have three options. Interstate 20 is the preferred route. Another alternative is the Endom Bridge, but it isnt likely to handle many more than the 10,000 vehicles already crossing it daily. The Sterlington Bridge carries about 7,000 vehicles per day, but it is too far north for most motorists.
The I-20 bridge carries about 85,000 vehicles a day 80,000 is considered capacity so it wont be a panacea.
To minimize the impact for motorists, Hill said DOTD has several plans in place.
Wreckers will be stationed on both sides of the I-20 bridge to assist with any accidents. Electronic message boards will be set up from Ruston to Rayville that will have censors to monitor the speed and density of traffic to advise motorists what kind of delays to expect, if any.
DOTDs motorist assistance patrol vans will be present along I-20 during peak traffic times to assist with the removal of disabled vehicles.
Hill also advises motorists to download DOTDs app, Way to Geaux which provides constant updates on traffic situations within a given area.
Motorists can also obtain real-time traffic information by dialing 511 to access DOTDs Traffic Management Center or visiting DOTDs Twitter page.
A final group meeting will be held at DOTDs Monroe headquarters 9 a.m. Thursday. The headquarters is at 8010 DeSiard Street. This final meeting will review the actions planned by the various municipalities and agencies
I think everyone is aware of what is happening so the best thing people can do is schedule their work around peak traffic times if possible, Hill said.


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|View single post by Johan Steele
|Posted: Sat Jun 9th, 2007 02:57 pm
Johan Steele
Life NRA,SUVCW # 48,Legion 352
|I have read well over 2000 letters and diaries, most of them men in the western theatres because that is what interests me.
Adventure, peer pressure, money, a steady paycheck to send home were all reasons I have seen mentioned. Fighting slavery was mentioned in a few. But I think by and far most letters where a reason is referenced: fighting treason, preserving or defending the country stands out. By and large I have tried to let the opinions of the men who were there shape my opinions. IMO the average US soldier saw themselves defending something greater than themselves against an aggresor who was attempting to destroy it.
One thread I have noted about slavery in all of the letters I have read is that the further South the men went & the more slavery they saw first hand the more they despised the institution and blamed it for the war. Men who were not even vaguely abolishionist would come to recognize that slavery was not only an evil but the driving force behind Secession & the war. Simply from the homes slaveowners had... the wealthy; and all to often the owners had only recently fled in front of the army. In short, the wealthy slaveowners were sending the average working man, farmer, off to fight for him.
They knew the men sharing mud w/ them on the other side of their rifle were not unlike them. Most were farmers trying to make a life for themselves and most had similar or the same wants and needs in life. Many were also aware that many men on the other side of their sights were not there willingly. All too many seemed quite aware of CS conscription and forcefully extended enlistments for the "duration." It was just one more reason to put down the rebellion. An interesting vhein in many letters is the election of 64. Men knew they were holding an election in the middle of hellish war; and the CS wasn't.
As to what motivated the average man in blue? Patriotism & love of country would stand high on that list and right beside that the knowledge that the man next to them in line was in the same boat... they weren't about to let down their country, their families or the man in line next to them.
There was a bond of respect between enemies that the staybehinders couldn't fathom. Men who have shared the mud and danger had a tendency to respect each other. Years after the war the veterans maintained a respect and even friendship for each other that must absolutly baffle those who still harbor a hatred.