text:
Depending where you are in the world, you likely don't celebrate this event with those of us from the USA, but from my heart to you, God Bless, and have a wonderful day! 3DGM and all of my long time friends here are on my list of things I am thankful for! Sláinte!
I cleaned my whole house for the last 2 days and just finished cooking a 13 pound ham. All I need now is a few beers and few rounds on BF3!
Ugh... almost too full to type! 24# bird, stuffing, potatoes (home mashed), biscuits (home made), broccoli, cheesy hash browns, pumpkin soup, pumpkin cake and pie, and monkey bread.
OMG so much food...That was the best ham ever.. I'll never again buy a spiral ham!
After all that eating I had to look at my brothers computer that was crashing. Good news is that I figured out that blue screens, the monitors going black and lock-ups was not the hard drives, video cards or the motherboards, but rather.. I was dealing with 3 bad power supplies.. WTF? mystery solved! There is nothing like testing a broken PSU with another broken PSU and then another. Give me a break computers! lol
Good food, beer and gaming... sound good to me.
Oh, yeah, we finally finished everything. But, given the sales, there is another bird in the freezer.
Hmmm... Thanksgiving 2.0 this weekend? LOL!
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text:
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text:
The Devils and Islanders played the second half of their home-and-home series today at the Prudential Center.
Martin Brodeur was in goal for the Devils against Al Montoya.
Devils lines: Zach Parise- Adam Henrique- Ilya Kovalchuk; Petr Sykora- Patrik Elias-Dainius Zubrus; Ryan Carter- Tim Sestito- David Clarkson; MattiasTedenby- Brad Mills- Cam Janssen.
Defense: Andy Greene-Adam Larsson; Henrik Tallinder-Mark Fayne; Bryce Salvador-Anton Volchenkov.
Montoya made a skate save on Henrique's top of a Volchenkov shot at 2:09.
Kovalchuk's chip off the left wing boards after a Mike Mottau turnover sent Henrique in ahead of Milan Jurcina. The rookie center backhanded a shot past Montoya at 3:59 for his fifth goal of the season.
Bailey was sent off for hooking at 5:34, but the Isles took a 3-2 lead on a short-handed goal from Grabner.
Kovalchuk was stripped of the puck as he started out from his own end. Grabner,who took the puck from Kovalchuk at the top of the slot, beat Brodeur on his stick side at 5:51.
Kovalchuk lost the puck in his own end to Grabner again at 8:47. This time Grabner's shot hit the left side of the net.
Grabner was sent off with a delay of game penalty at 9:01.
The attendance was 16,014.
When a video of Kovalchuk wishing fans a happy Thanksgiving was played on the scoreboard, fans booed.
Kovalchuk took a stick in the face from John Tavares went down in front of the Islanders' net at 14:02. When no penalty was called, he had a few words for referee Dave Jackson, who issued an unsportsmanlike conduct minor on the Russian winger for abuse of officials.
Brodeur stopped Tavares on a breakaway at 17:13 after Salvador lost the puck at the left point in the offensive zone.
With 1:53 left, coach Pete DeBoer put a line of Parise, Henrique and Clarkson on the ice. No Kovalchuk.
Montoya stopped Parise chance at 1:32 as the Devils captain drove through the right circle to the net.
Tedenby's sharp angle shot at 2:50 was sticked aside by the Islanders goalie after Mills was unable to handle a Tedenby feed in the right circle.
Larsso, who had a tough third period at Nassau Coliseum on Friday, tied the score with his second NHL goal. Kovalchuk gave him the puck for a shot from above the right hash marks that beat Montoya at 4:20.
A Josh Bailey high-sticking penalty put the Devils on a power play at 5:44. Larsson turned the puck over with a soft pass at the blue line, forcing Brodeur to stop Matt Martin with the Isles short-handed.
Montoya stopped a chance from Henrique at 9:32.
The Islanders took a 2-1 lead at 11:59 on a Bailey goal. Brian Rolston took the puck from Clarkson in the left circle, feeding Bailey for a shot from the left circle.
As the puck went in, David Ulstrom rocked the net forward and ran into Brodeur at the left post. A review allowed the goal to stand.
Larsson lost the puck at the right point and it took another save by Brodeur with 2:42 left as Kyle Okposo walked in alone for a scoring chance.
Brodeur was asked to come through again with 36.1 seconds to go. He stopped a Grabner shot and then made an acrobatic save to rob Okposo on the rebound.
The Islanders are leading in shots, 17-14.
End of period: Islanders 2, Devils 1
The Devils started the Sykora-Elias-Zubrus line with Tallinder and Fayne on defense.
Clarkson had the Devils' best scoring chance so far at 9:07 but Montoya made the stop.
A Devils turnover helped the Islanders take a 1-0 lead at 11:28. Kovalchuk lost the puck in the offensive zone and Greene was unable to keep it in. PA Parentau carried the puck up ice, leaving it for Matt Moulson in the right circle for a shot that beat Brodeur on his glove side.
Brodeur stopped a Josh Bailey shot at 15:05 with Brian Rolston looking for a rebound.
Salvador was called for boarding Moulson at 16:08.
With the Isles on the power play, Fayne broke up a scoring chance from Michael Grabner by tying him up in the slit as he wound up to shoot with 2:16 left.
The Islanders outshot the Devils, 7-5.
End of period: Islanders 1, Devils 0
For more Devils coverage, follow Rich Chere on Twitter at twitter.com/Ledger_NJDevils
Rich Chere: email@example.com


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Guest Post by Heather of Cook It Up Paleo – Grain Free Banana Bread
March 8, 2014 in Categories: Uncategorized by Tamar England
Heather is a 17-year old nutrition nerd and enthusiastic paleo home cook blogging at Cook It Up Paleo . She is also the author of the ebook Grain-Free Family Favorites. Heather loves to cook and educate her friends and family about real food. Connect with Heather on Facebook, Google+, Pinterest, and Twitter.
Before my family and I went (mostly) Paleo, we loved banana bread. We kids actually hated bananas because my mom always hated them, but banana bread was the exception. I can still taste the moist slices of Mom's delicious bread, fresh from the oven with butter.
When we ditched the grains, I set about making grain-free banana bread. Some of the recipes I made were good, while others were just okay. Something that has always bothered be about grain-free breads is that they rise about two inches. Not that big of a deal, but having a full loaf pan is always nice. I've learned that the secret is to make lots of batter so that the loaf pan is full before you bake the bread, so that it can't help but rise to desired height. This recipe accomplishes that, and is full of delicious banana flavor. It's moist, slices well, and I adore it slathered with soft butter and raw honey.
You may notice that I use chestnut flour in this recipe. Chestnut flour is not very well-known in the paleo/grain-free world, but I am doing my best to change that, because I really see chestnut flour as the perfect grain-free flour. Why? Well, for one, it is not slightly gritty like most nut flours. It is quite finely ground. Chestnuts are naturally starchier than other nuts, so the flour is much lower in pro-inflammatory omega-6 fatty acids than, say, almond flour (see Sarah's thoughts on almond flour). However, it is not nearly as carb-filled as arrowroot or tapioca flour. It also acts very close to wheat flour in recipes (unlike coconut flour, which slurps up moisture like crazy). Chestnut flour has a fairly potent nuttiness, so I do use it in tandem with ingredients that benefit from such flavor. I actually find many baked goods made with chestnut flour to have a honey-whole-wheat flavor to them, which is of course delicious in something like banana bread. We buy chestnut flour online as it is not easy to find in health food stores.
Grain-Free Banana Bread
Prep Time: 10 minutes; Cook Time: 55 minutes; Yield: 1 large loaf
- 3 very ripe bananas
- 5 eggs
- 1 cup chestnut flour
- 1-1/2 cups blanched almond flour
- 1-1/2 teaspoons ground cinnamon
- 1 teaspoon cream of tartar
- 1/2 teaspoon baking soda
- 1 teaspoon apple cider vinegar
1. Preheat the oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit.
2. Line a standard-sized loaf pan with parchment paper.
3. To a food processor, add the ripe bananas and eggs. Process until smooth.
4. Pour the banana mixture into a large mixing bowl.
5. Add in the chestnut flour, almond flour, and cinnamon. Mix well with a whisk. (Note: chestnut flour can be quite lumpy; just mix really well.)
6. Stir in the cream of tartar, baking soda, and apple cider vinegar.
7. Pour the batter into the prepared loaf pan.
8. Bake for 55 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted into the center of the bread comes out clean.
9. Serve warm with butter and honey (optional)


text:
by Davita Joie
I didn't hear the voices that night; I felt them. The tone was urgent, the words were indistinct. We were in revival at the old church. I was fourteen years old and all around me, folks had 'caught the spirit'. Some spun and danced with abandon, others spoke in tongues I didn't recognize, and still others kneeled in the wooden pews, crying out to God for deliverance, for forgiveness, for mercy.
All I could do was cry. I didn't know why. There was joy in that place – brothers and sisters hugged each other, the music was soaring, the organ and the drums pulsed in a united rhythm that reverberated throughout the little church on Depeyster Street. The feverish bop swung down the center aisle of the sanctuary, swooped down the front stairs and sashayed its way straight to the Pearly Gates so St. Pete could tap his toes in praise with us.
But there was a sadness weighing on me. No sobbing or loud wailing. Just streams of water that coursed down my cheeks and slid soundlessly onto my blouse and the Bible propped in my lap. Somewhere, something was very, very wrong. I 'felt it in my spirit', words I had heard my mother and grandmother say but certainly had never thought I would ever say myself.
The evangelist that week was Forrest Lowe who generally visited our congregation twice a year. He was a giant of a man, six foot five, with a deep, rumbling voice that made James Earl Jones sound like a prepubescent boy. My brothers and I unofficially adopted him as our godfather; I called him Daddy Lowe until my father made it known that he was the only man his kids should call 'daddy'. So, I called him Papa Lowe instead. My father was around, but he'd moved out of our house when I was seven. He moved closed by so we saw him on weekends. I had been too young to understand then but the older I got the more I thought I knew and at fourteen, I wrestled with hating and loving the man who in my mind claimed to be my daddy, but left me like a sack of trash. A sack of trash that looked just like him. The night he left, I remember distinctly thinking, "Now who's going to protect us?" I don't think I ever got over that sense of being vulnerable in the world.
In the middle of service, while everyone else was praising, Papa motioned for me to come to him and I obeyed, propelling myself down the aisle on wobbly legs.
"Daughter, what's wrong?" he said, placing his mammoth hands on my shoulders.
The tenderness in his voice made me cry all the more. I couldn't say anything; it was like my mouth forgot how to form words. I just dropped my head into his chest, still crying silently. Finally, after a few minutes, I managed to get out, "I…think… it's… my… dad." Papa just nodded and wrapped me in a great big hug and I know he could feel my shoulders shaking.
"Mmmmm," he said, and pushed me away from him a little so he could look in my eyes. "Daughter, I'm going to pray for you, ok?" And he placed his hands on each side of my face and used that booming basso voce to summon heaven on my behalf. When I returned to my seat, I had a sense of peace and the crying stopped.
Later that night, we went to the pastor's house for a late night supper. Mom let me go, figuring it would be good for me to be with Papa and the others; they would see that I got home. It had to be midnight or later and I had a plate full of macaroni and cheese, collard greens and baked chicken but I couldn't eat; I just pushed everything around and let the surrounding conversation pour over me.
Suddenly, the phone rang and I dropped the fork I was holding; it clanged against the ceramic plate in front of me. I was sweating, my heart was beating faster, I couldn't catch my breath and I had an ominous feeling in the pit of my stomach. No one had yet answered the phone but I knew that it was bad news. And it concerned me. I watched Papa go to the phone with fearful eyes, the sounds around me swirling in and out of my ears, making me dizzy and nauseous.
When he hung up the phone, tears were again streaming down my face.
"That was your mom," he said slowly, carefully. At first it sounded like his voice was coming towards me down a long tunnel. "The brakes on your dad's car failed tonight, just as he was going through one of the busiest intersections in the city. The police said he should have been killed. But, he's ok…." I slumped down in my chair as he was talking, as if each word physically hit me and pushed me towards the floor.
"Daughter, he's ok," he repeated as he walked across the room and put his arms around my shoulders.
Later we found out that Dad's near accident occurred around the same time Papa had been praying for me.
* * *
When I was twenty years old, I married the boy I thought I loved.
The proposal, after six years of dating, had been perfunctory. No romance, no loving declaration on bended knee. Just a friendly, "I think we should get married." I learned much later that his father had actually made the suggestion, unknowingly planting a seed in the heart of a son who desperately wanted his father's approval and felt that he never quite measured up.
I wasn't opposed to getting engaged; I believed what I felt was genuine devotion. I mean, to the extent that a girl of nineteen understands what love truly is. I was, after all, a girl whose father had left her; a girl whose nose was as likely to be found buried in the pages of a Harlequin romance as any academic text. When I demurred and suggested that we wait to actually get married until I finished my last two years of college, my beloved said, "I honestly don't know if I'll still be around then."
I looked at this tall, handsome young man, he of the chocolate brown skin, rounded afro, and toothy smile, college-educated and church-bred like me, and I thought that we worked. We'd written each other letters over the years, getting to know each other across the distance that separated our hometowns, keeping both Ma Bell and the postal service in business. On paper, we were a good match. And somewhere, in a shadowy corner of my soul, I wondered if anyone else would ever want to marry me. I wondered if this would be my last chance. We married a year later.
The ceremony was on a sunny, Saturday afternoon and three hundred friends and relatives assembled in the stone church, a former monastery with large stained glass windows. Downstairs, it was just my dad and me. He was pacing in the morning suit tuxedo my fiancé had picked out. I hated that suit; I couldn't resist giving it a little sneer whenever I thought no one was watching. Our first big fight was over that suit. I wanted a classic tuxedo, but my future husband wanted to wear the same morning coat his father had worn. It was the first of many battles I would lose.
I sat on a bench, my long white gown spread out around me, the mutton sleeves were off the shoulder (to my mother's chagrin), puffy at the shoulders then tapered to the wrists. The veil was on top of my head, my hair upswept in the back. Dad looked jumpy and I was a nervous wreck. I wanted my Mom; she would know what to say. I thought it was sweet that he would try – after all these years – to come up with some words of wisdom before he walked me down the aisle. Sweet but also completely unnecessary.
He knew I was still angry with him. He'd arrived so late for the pictures, we thought he wasn't coming at all and asked one of my uncles to step in should my father decide not to show. It would be just like my father to try to get back at my mom for some imagined slight by not showing up for my wedding. He was late for everything. He'd been late all my life: softball games, track meets, music concerts, graduation. Late, late, late and late. I'd been mad at him for as long as I could remember.
I saw him hit my mother when I was little. I heard the chauvinistic comments he made about women. I knew that even though he and my mother were separated, he was living with some other…'ho. He was my dad and I loved him. But here, in this place, at this moment, there was nothing he could say to me about the sanctity of marriage.
That didn't stop him from trying, right there in that church basement. My father cleared his throat and tried, bless his heart.
"Well," he coughed. "Never thought we'd see this day so quickly." He stopped and I just looked at him, silently telling him it was ok to say nothing at all with my small, weak smile.
"I'm just going to ask you a question," he said. "The same question I've been asking you since you were a little girl."
I was moved in spite of myself. He just might pull this off, I thought. This made me a little teary and I immediately started fanning myself and blinking fast so as not to ruin my carefully applied makeup.
He sat down next to me, took my hands in his and looked deeply into my eyes.
"Do you have to go pee-pee?" he stage whispered. "'Cause I'm not going to be able to help you with that big ole dress."
I laughed so hard I was afraid they'd hear me all the way upstairs. The tension was broken and I was grateful for this rare tender gesture, as fragile a peace offering as the flowers that made up my bouquet.
A few minutes later, when I walked down the aisle on his arm, I remember looking at the glowing faces of my friends, my cousins, the concerned but happy looks on the faces of my church family, my proud grandmothers. I wondered if my mother, who was my matron of honor, could feel my panic; I desperately looked for reassurance in her eyes. Something from her that assured me my fate would be different. My feet felt heavy and as I glanced up at my soon-to-be husband, who crooked his finger as if to say, 'walk faster'. Everyone laughed.
But fear was nipping at the heels of my lace pumps, every step of the way. I remember praying, "God, if this is not Your will, please….please….stop the wedding right here. I won't go if this is not You."
God was silent.
* * *
Four years later, I ran down the steps of another church, made of yellow stone and elegant stained glass, crying – anguish chiseled into the lines of my face. I drove, I'm sure I drove, but really it was the car that knew the way home. It glided silently through the darkened streets; the way lit only by the eerie orange glow that emanated from the lights on the roadside. Tall and silver, they looked like blurry extensions of the trees that also lined the streets, iron faeries that stretched their arms in a graceful arch towards the middle of the road. Right turn, go three streets, left turn. I have no memory of this nearly twenty-minute drive to the other side of town. Tears blurred the road in front me; I watched the hazy streak of white down the middle. Stay to the right, stay to the right, I urged the car.
The marriage hadn't been working for a long time. Honestly, it hadn't worked from day one, that illusion-shattering first encounter that left the no-longer-virginal me counting ceiling tiles and wishing for a do-over that would take me home to my mother's house and back to school for my third year in college.
One day, early on, I asked my husband why he didn't start dinner, since he came home two hours earlier than I did. I usually found him passed out on the couch, tie askew, stockinged feet up on the coffee table.
"'Cause that's your job," he said matter-of-factly.
Funny, how we didn't discuss my job description before we got married. Funny, how I had two jobs (one as a receptionist for his father the doctor) and now a second one as cook, maid, and sex slave. Wait, that's four, right? Four jobs to his one. No wonder I was exhausted all the time.
The sex slave, I mean, wife part became near impossible towards the end. My body physically could not, would not comply. It's a wonder his …part…didn't break off and get ground to nothingness so insistent was my body's unconscious refusal of his advances. His lovely overtures, after weeks and then months of not talking, consisted of phrases like, "You feel like giving up some sex tonight?"
His father, the doctor, was also our pastor and therefore our 'counselor'. My husband refused to go to anyone else. I asked, I begged, I pleaded. It seemed reasonable to me to go to someone who could be objective, who could hear both of us, but he balked at seeing anyone but his father. He didn't want to be 'embarrassed'. Our sessions consisted of passages from the Bible about my duty as a wife and medical lectures on how a man's body works. Nothing about his duty or my body. My mother-in-law sat silently during these sessions, wearing censure and consent like a shawl. I mostly sat with my mouth shut, arms folded over my chest. I had plenty to say, to scream, but no one was listening to me.
The years stretched into one long, mind-numbing abyss. He threatened to hit me at one point. Frustrated, I'm sure by my ability to reason, to think for myself, to question. In that instance, I saw my mother's face. I saw my aunties, my father's sisters, my mother's sisters, many of whom had been slapped or punched by men who claimed to love. I remembered one auntie in particular who finally turned on her abusive husband, and when she did, when she finally found the strength to fight back against the black eyes and broken bones and midnight calls to the police, that coward locked himself in the bathroom, scared to come out and face her rage. He begged for the police to come and rescue him. I love that story.
I'd already seen my share of that kind of 'love'. I told him if he hit me, he better kill me because if I got up, I might lose, but he would know he had been in a fight. He only pulled that once. He threatened to break all of our china, a gift from my family and friends, in order to keep me from taking it. "I'll shatter every last one!" he screamed. "You won't take anything out of this house!"
He let our birds, two cockatiels, die in our sweltering hundred degree garage one summer day to get back at me for "not listening to him". I had to take their broken, heat prostrated bodies and bury them in the backyard. Alone.
The year before, he changed the locks on our house, when I went back home for my fifth high school reunion and the high school graduation of my youngest brother. He couldn't go with me because he'd just started a new job, but I had plenty of vacation time since I was working for the phone company by then. He forbade me to go. That was the word he used. "I forbid you to go." I was unwilling to miss a once-in-a-lifetime gathering because of his childishness. A one-week vacation did not constitute a separation in my mind. He refused to take me to the airport; he refused to talk to me when I called to say I arrived safely; he refused to pick me up when I returned.
When friends from work brought me home, the house was dark and the locks were changed. He was nowhere to be found. When I called my father-in-law, this man who had promised my parents he would treat me like his own daughter, said only, "He told you not to go."
The police told me it was my house too, so the next day, I broke a window and returned to my house. And somehow we decided to try again. I remember talking all night, sitting on the edge of the bed, him kneeling in front of me. But it all unraveled after that, less than a year later, like a sad little ball of string in the hands of a young and eager cat.
One night, I again sat in the church listening to the praises all around me. But my heart was not there. My spirit was grieved; I didn't know what to do or who to turn to. My personality had deteriorated to the point where I didn't even recognize the shell that I had become, this quiet, beat down zombie who went through the motions but whose spirit had clearly died.
An evangelist was visiting, a woman my father-in-law knew and she was also staying at their home. I sat in the back, watching as she called couples to the front of the church and prayed for them. Together. She went to a person…asked where their spouse was…joined their hands, and prayed for them. Together.
My husband, a minister in his father's church, was standing down front. And when this white-haired lady stood in front of him, she just looked up at him with great, somber eyes and shook her head. Then she prayed for him. Alone.
The noise in the church was deafening and I'm grateful that no one heard the shattering of my heart in the melee, like a bullet had shot through a pane of stained glass and scattered shards everywhere.
I didn't know what to do, so I ran. Down the aisle, through the double doors, down the stairs, willing my body not to betray me, not to release the dammed up pressure in my chest until I was safely in my car.
Thank heaven the car knew the way.
As we approached the final turn, I felt the car move smoothly into the left turn lane and stop, turn signal blinking. The iron faeries appeared to lean in even further, trying to see what was happening with the young woman in the car who was weeping uncontrollably.
My mind replayed the entire four years of my marriage like a movie on the back of my eyelids. Flashes of a few happy times, friends from church who hung out at our home, raiding the piggy bank to buy gas, pizza for dinner many nights since he managed a pizza parlor and we couldn't afford anything else; poor but in love. The remaining three and a half years were a war zone of personality and philosophical clashes, dying dreams, broken bird bodies, shattered spirits. He wanted me to call his parents 'mom' and 'dad', but would only call my parents by their first names. When he really got angry, he said, "I see why your father left! You're just like your mother!" I was enraged that night; he didn't know the first thing about my parents' marriage, how dare he? He only said that once. Scene after scene after scene like a never-ending film fest unfurled before my eyes. The car didn't seem inclined to make this final bend until I got myself together.
I was sitting in this spot, when down the road I could see through my scratchy, tired eyes a truck approaching from the opposite direction. To my mind, it had a malevolent face, two square glaring eyes, a shiny silver grill that resembled the bared teeth of a wolf. A row of red lights above the windows looked like tightly drawn brows and another row, below the grill, made it appear that blood was dripping from its 'teeth'.
A fear greater than I'd ever known seemed to slither into the passenger seat next to me and put its hands on my leg. The closer the truck got, the tighter that hand seemed to squeeze, pushing my leg toward the gas pedal. I couldn't shake the encroaching despair, the voices in my head telling me I couldn't leave if my husband wasn't beating me. I couldn't leave because God hated divorce. I couldn't leave because my husband came home every night and wasn't that the very definition of a good husband?
I was crying so hard at this point, I barely felt the pressure on my leg, the vice around my soul was so intense. I wanted to gnaw at something, my ring finger, like a crazed animal, anything to release myself from this snare.
Behind me, I heard what appeared to be a low growl and I jumped, assuming that somehow someone had gotten in the car with me. I began to turn around when I heard a voice behind me, gravelly and dark and seductive, unmistakably demonic and completely, fully audible.
Drive in front of that truck. Go ahead…it'll all be over. No more pain, no more crying. Quick, easy….Go ahead. It can all be over. It can all be over. It can all be over.
My ear grew hot, like someone was over my shoulder, whispering into its curves. And for a split second, I could feel my hands start to turn the steering wheel in blind obedience, desperate to silence the voices, the people who didn't live in my house, the others who weren't engulfed in my agony, the judgers who judged without mercy or compassion. But just as quickly, I saw a vision of my mother standing next to my coffin, crying as if her heart had been ripped from her chest, my two brothers on either side of her with wet, contorted faces. I saw her collapse into their outstretched arms, felt her grief at the loss of her only daughter.
My dad sat on the front row, handkerchief in hand, clad in the handmade Italian black suit he wore on such occasions. I'd only seen him cry one time when I was nine years old, when his father died; even his cheeks were moist. I felt their collective distress and it was enough to jar me out of whatever stupor I was in. I couldn't put them through that; my mother especially. This was my family. These were the people who loved me.
The truck's horn roared in my ears as it passed, slowly fading into the night, the repeating sound a reproach, a cautionary refrain. Almost, almost. The truck had passed close enough for me to feel the heat from its massive engine, mere inches from my car.
I sat there, shaking, for several more minutes. The fog had begun to roll in, and its wisps were curling up around the amber glow of the lamps, folding itself in and around the darkness as if playing hide and seek. Slowly the car made the left turn that would take us down the street to the house and the relative safety of the driveway. I knew in that moment what I had to do. To salvage whatever remained of me, I had to end this so-called marriage or I was going to die. I didn't need a prophet or pastor or evangelist to tell me; I knew this as sure as I knew my own name. I would die if I stayed in this place.
I knew the voice of God. And I also knew that the voice I heard that night, was definitely not His.
* * *
Within eighteen months, my life was taking on a new shape, like a mosaic made out of shattered tile. I moved three hours away. I made new friends and I found a new church and I started to feel more like myself; upbeat and happy. The mourning period wasn't completely over but I could see and feel the clouds lifting ever so slightly. I knew I was still broken in places, but the scars were fading.
In the intervening months, my former brother-in-law and his wife also moved to what I had begun to think of as 'my city'. Job opportunities had brought them there and pure bad luck (in my mind), brought them to the same church where I now worshipped. Even though they were my former in laws, we had no particular issues with each other and were cordial and pleasant in social settings. Only my closest friends knew their true relationship to me and I didn't feel the need to share with anyone else.
On Good Friday that year, I prepared to go to service, dressed in a salmon-colored skort set with white polka dots and white pumps with gold trim. My hair had grown out, I'd lost weight; I felt pretty good. I ran around the house straightening up, singing to the tape in my stereo. As I turned to walk to the bathroom, I heard this unmistakable voice. Not out loud, but still and soft like a whisper.
Your ex-husband will be in service tonight and you need to be prepared.
I dismissed it immediately as something that emanated from my own subconscious but for what reason, I had no clue. At one point in my life I thought God was pleased with my choice of husband and that man had nearly killed me. I've long since learned that what we often call the voice of God is really the voice of our own desires. We want what we want so badly we convince ourselves that God's silence is His consent. But I've also learned that in matters involving our free will, when God is silent, He is respecting our choices, but will give clear indication of His will if we're open to the signs. And there areusually signs. We just tend not to pay attention.
In the Book of Isaiah, we're told that the spirit of God will be like a voice behind us, guiding our footsteps, telling us to go left or go right. I didn't want to believe that I was hearing that my ex-husband was in town. I simply wouldn't accept it. What possible reason could a loving God have for telling me this? But then again, why would I make it up?
So I shrugged, and tried to laugh it off, but as I continued to turn off lights and grab my coat in preparation for leaving, I felt a tap on my shoulder, like someone was behind me trying to get my attention. Tap, tap. It was so real, I stopped and looked, fully expecting to see a person there.
Listen. Your ex-husband will be in service tonight. He came down a few nights ago to go to the gospel concert and he stayed to celebrate Easter with his brother's family. He is here with his wife. You need to be prepared.
Now, this was a little more detail than my subconscious was willing to take credit for. I was willing to pay more attention at this point, but I still thought I was out of my head– for reasons known only to God himself. I left with a 'we'll see' attitude, not entirely convinced. But the urgency of that voice stayed with me all the way to service.
When I arrived at the church hall with wooden floors that reverberated with the driving beat of the organ, my friends hadn't yet arrived and service hadn't started, so I found a seat towards the back. At one point, I glanced towards the doors and saw my former brother-in-law enter with his son. This felt strange to me; he never arrived without his entire family in tow.
"Hi," I said. He wouldn't meet my eyes. My heart started beating a little faster.
"Hey," he said, finally meeting my gaze. We made small talk, but I could tell he had more to say. I decided to save him the trouble.
"He's here, isn't he?" I said. His expression would have been comical if it hadn't been so shocked. He couldn't say anything.
"I can't even tell you how I know but," I paused. "He came down for that big gospel concert earlier this week and decided to say for the weekend, right?"
I have never seen him so slack-jawed. "Y-y-yes, that's right," he choked. "How did…?"
"Not important. I'm ok," I said. I tried to smile at him reassuredly but I'm sure I just looked like I had terrible gas pains or a really bad stomachache.
He took his son and sat over on the other side of the building. Eventually his wife, my former sister-in-law, arrived with their daughter and when she caught my eye, the apology in hers was evident. I saw my ex-husband and his new wife from a distance. I hadn't seen or spoken to him since the day I left a year and a half earlier and I'd wondered what it would be like when we did finally meet. What would we say?
I didn't feel the pangs in my heart that I thought I would. I knew I wouldn't really know if I was over him if I never ran into him; I just didn't think it would be this soon. I was relieved; I wasn't pining. I didn't feel anything. No overwhelming sadness, no unexplained longing, no wishing or hoping or regret. Just peace. A blessed nothingness.
After the service was over, everyone milled around talking and laughing and hugging. I kept one eye on the in-laws, trying to keep them at bay and myself one step ahead of impending close encounters. But of course I got distracted. And before I knew it, I was staring up into the face of my ex and his new wife, his cousin's friend that we both met at the last family Thanksgiving we celebrated together. The woman he started dating two months after we separated. And he was holding a baby, wrapped in a white blanket.
After we'd exchanged the requisite pleasantries, he said, "I'd like you to meet my son." To anyone watching us, we probably looked like friends. Anyone who knows me knows I love babies, so the scene would not have seemed unusual to the casual onlooker but I wasn't prepared to hold this child.
I couldn't think of a polite way to refuse and before I knew it, I was cradling this baby boy in my arms. A baby boy who bore my ex-husband's name, who had the same complexion as his father, who shared the shape of his nose, the curve of his lip. A child conceived long before the ink was dry on our divorce papers.
A child that could have been mine.
I felt a pang then; an empty space deep inside me contracted. Not because of the loss of my ex-husband but a twinge at the thought of missing the opportunity to have a child of my own, not knowing if I would be able to in the future. God, I breathed.Please don't let me drop this baby.
I wonder how I don't fall apart. I wonder if things would have been different if I hadn't heard the voice as I was leaving, the preternatural knowledge insulating me from shock and embarrassment. So glad, I thought to myself. So glad I was forewarned.
All the activity in the room seemed to fade into the background. The stage in my mind went dark, the spotlight on me and this child, who in his sleep reached up with his three-month-old hand, settled himself in the curve of my chest, and grabbed my pinky with a sure, firm grip.
* * *
Davita Joie is from the Bay Area of California (by way of upstate New York) and recently graduated with her MFA in writing from Sarah Lawrence College. She is currently turning her thesis into a book called "The Boxer's Daughter", a collection of essays and is also working on a second book of poems about the 1957 unsolved murder of her aunt. She is also furiously trying to find a way to turn her literary life into a paying gig.


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The Film
Historians consider the Karabagh War (1989-1994) one of the first signs of the Soviet Union's collapse. Journalist and former P.O.W., Vardan Hovhannisyan, lived alongside the soldiers, doctors, and villagers caught in the conflict and captured their immediate thoughts and last words to their families. Twelve years later, Vardan returns to Karabagh to try and find answers to the war and lessons for peace.
The Filmmaker
- Vardan HovhannisyanProducer/Director


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Mechanics Files
Where the best mechanics rise to the top
- 1092 Massachusetts Avenue, Boxborough, MA 01719, us
- (978) 263-0200
- Is this YOUR shop? Claim it and stay up to date!
Questions Jump to reviews
|They are always honest (5.00)
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|They complete the work in a timely manner (4.50)
|They respond well when they screw something up (5.00)
|They take the time to explain the problems and necessary repairs (5.00)
|They treat male and female customers in the same manner (5.00)
|I would use this mechanic again (5.00)
|I would recommend this mechanic to others (5.00)
Other facts you may want to know
|They fix the problem the first time (4.50)
|The shop is located in a safe neighborhood (4.83)
|The hours of operation are convenient for customers (4.67)
|They are near public transportation (or provide loaners, shuttle bus, rides as needed) (2.60)


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Summary: A company introduction letter works well as part of a marketing strategy. In the field of construction, this is a good tool for companies to stay a step ahead of their competitors. If you are writing a construction company introduction letter, here is a sample that you can refer to.
James Dwight,
Wonder Constructions.
June 12, 2009
Mr.Norman Black,
Chief Executive Officer,
Moderncom Ltd.,
IT Park, Cebu.
Dear Mr.Black,
I take much pride to introduce to you one of the pioneers in the construction idustry, Global Construction Company. Our company have been in the business of construction for more than a decade now and still counting.
Our company has already built many modern and top of the art buildings in the whole of India as well as in the united Kingdom. Our services include contracting services and we are also into the business of commercial and indtrial ventures. It is our goal to modernize the construction industry, thus we use modern technologies and design is one of our concerns. All of our services are safe because we are licensed in the whole of India and UK.
It would be an honor for us if you will allow us to work with you in some futue ventures. For this, I am going to give you a ring one of these days for us to be able to make a formal offer of our services that you might be needing.
Best Regards,
James Dwight,
Director and Chief Architect.


text:
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Kraft Texas Millionaires Candy recipes have been collected over the years. At Annies Recipes you can easily navigate through thousands of other tried and true, easy and quick to prepare recipes.
1 pkg. Kraft caramels
3 tbsp. milk
2 c. pecans
1 pkg. milk chocolate chips
1/2 block paraffin
Melt caramels and add milk in top of double boiler. Beat 2 or 3 minutes by hand.. Remove from heat and add pecans. Drop by spoonfuls onto buttered waxed paper and cool. Melt chocolate chips and paraffin in top of double boiler. Drop caramels in chocolate and return to waxed paper one at a time. Store in a covered container in a cool place.
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As far as 3 organic foods to shoot for - MEAT, EGGS, soft skin FRUIT&VEGETABLES (the stuff where you don't peel the sking and throw it away but rather consume it all).
Me: I've always been thin, but lack energy, often feel tired and nauseated. I'm bored to tears by food, and eat too much sugar and dry cereal because anything else just takes too much time investment. I often skip meals because the effort of eating a "real" meal just doesn't seem worth it. Any dietary changes in our family depend entirely on me, because I'm the one who cooks. To be fair, my family doesn't seem to have any problem with what I cook; it's just me who hates it. Maybe I'm just not a big food fan? My hangup with the primal blueprint is that the few foods I really enjoy are starches: (whole grain) breads, hot cereal, dry cereal, potatoes. I'm willing to try giving them up, though.
Hubs: Was always really thin as a teenager but ballooned to 210 pounds between 19 and 21. Wants to lose weight and has been going hungry to try to achieve this without results. Will do whatever it takes, as long as it actually works.
2 boys, 2 and 4. I feed them a lot of "healthy" food like fruit, vegetables, meat, and whole grain breads, but they're ALWAYS hungry.
Will this diet really work for us and, not to sound skeptical but, how long should I stick with it to see results, and what kind of results should I be looking for? Our current diet is meat, vegetables, fruits, starches, beans. Not much packaged food. No frozen meals or canned soups.
Also, money's an issue, and we simply can't go entirely organic. What THREE food items should we go organic on to achieve the best ROI on our health/dollars investment?
As far as 3 organic foods to shoot for - MEAT, EGGS, soft skin FRUIT&VEGETABLES (the stuff where you don't peel the sking and throw it away but rather consume it all).
Thank you ChocolateChip! Out of those categories, which three individual foods would you suggest? Eggs, beef, apples? Eggs, milk, carrots?
Someone far more knowledgeable will be along in due course, but for what it's worth I would say that if you choose to include dairy, make THIS organic in place of fruit/veg.
Just to minimise the nasties going through the poor cow to you! Not sure of US laws on growth hormones, antibiotics etc but in the UK "organic" is a pretty strictly defined term.
As a novice, it sounds like your family doesn't eat much fat - this definitely helps with appetite control / feeling satisfied, from my own personal experience as well as what I've read.
I saw another post where a chap couldn't quite get his head around eating fat to lose fat. I realised too late that the concept (NOT the biology!) is similar to treating water retention. As in, most people are familiar with the idea of drinking more water to flush all this extra water out of your system...
LeggsRobbins if you haven't already done so, order Mark's book The Primal Blueprint and follow it. When you read about the Korgs you will recognize yourself and your family. This isn't a diet, it is a lifestyle and it can change your life.
I know every diet book out there claims the same thing but the difference is this is a program you can follow for a lifetime. You don't have to go into it 100%. You can take babysteps and still see rsults. It is about so much more than just eating.
As for what you can afford, take a good hard look at what you are spending now on processed food and you'll see that you don't really have to spend more to eat better. Look for grass raised and finished beef and buy whatever fruits and vegetables you can afford. Just wash them and use a vegetable scrubber and you should be OK.
Americans spend 5% of their income on food and 15% on healthcare. 50 years ago it was the other way around. It all depends on what you want to spend your money on, but for me health and vitality take priority over chronic illness, malaise, and depression.
I'd definitely give it a go if I were you... cleanse your pantry of all non-primal items and just start. Give it 30 days to see how you all feel.
I know that after about a week I was GUNG-HO about it, but after about a month to a month and a half, I was more in awe than anything else... and I have no desire to go "back."
This from someone whose previous diet was heavily starch-based too (pasta, rice, homemade wheat bread, cereals, etc). I ate very little meat before too.
I was "thin" too but it's skinny-fat... my body composition is (slowly) improving on the PB though.
Just yesterday I was marveling at my new arm muscles and asked my husband if it was my imagination that they were getting bigger/more toned. He assured me that it was really happening.
Eating lots but still hungry? Eat more fat. Mid-day sluggishness? Eat more fat. Feeling depressed or irritable? Eat more fat. People think you've developed an eating disorder? Eat more fat... in front of them.


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Yeon, Jaehoon and Ko, YK and Kuh, BK and Shi, CK and Shi, CK (2004) A Study on Grammar and Grammar Education in North Korea [in Korean]. South Korea: Pagijung Publishing Co.
Full text not available from this repository.
|Item Type:
|Authored Books
|SOAS Departments & Centres:
|Faculty of Languages and Cultures > Department of the Languages and Cultures of Japan and Korea
|Depositing User:
|Mr Adam Field
|Date Deposited:
|09 Dec 2007 13:25
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I think you misunderstand. In the other thread where we post 3:1 5:1 etc we are comparing a single month so the amount of time in the market is not relevant.Originally Posted by RPGMasterTurk91
With that said the PS3 was available NOVEMBER 11 2006 while the Wii was DECEMBER SECOND 2006, not enough difference to matter by now.
The Wii is still in a shortage in many areas of the world. If Nintendo could increase production these numbers would be even more impressive.


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I've been trying to change the font in both default and neon - but it's been rather unsuccessful it's now pretty much broke the addon saying I that there is no font set in TidyPlatesCore and I don't understand the code enough to work out what I'm doing wrong.
I've already got my desired font in the media folder.
This is the erroring I'm getting: Date: 2011-07-16 11:05:25 ID: 2 Error occured in: Global Count: 1 Message: ..\AddOns\TidyPlates\TidyPlatesCore.lua line 221: <unnamed>:SetText(): Font not set Debug: [C]: ? [C]: SetText() TidyPlates\TidyPlatesCore.lua:221: TidyPlates\TidyPlatesCore.lua:208 TidyPlates\TidyPlatesCore.lua:534: TidyPlates\TidyPlatesCore.lua:523 TidyPlates\TidyPlatesCore.lua:576: TidyPlates\TidyPlatesCore.lua:563 TidyPlates\TidyPlatesCore.lua:933: TidyPlates\TidyPlatesCore.lua:869


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This story caught my eye today -- I know energy prices are going up, but this seems a little out there:
NEW YORK (AP) -- Shoppers are less than amused about an energy surcharge passed along by a fancy food store in New York City.
Eli's, on Manhattan's Upper East Side, posted a sign saying: "An energy surcharge of 1.8 percent will be added to every purchase."
Owner Eli Zabar concedes that it's "a very arbitrary number" -- but says it's actually low.
Says Zabar: "One point eight percent doesn't begin to cover all the energy costs that have increased over the past three years."
He says he picked the number to prompt a "dialogue."
After learning that the dialogue had consisted mostly of complaints, Zabar said Wednesday he was considering scrapping the idea.


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LG Smart 3D Blu-ray Disc Player - WiFi, Private Sound 2.0, DLNA Certified, 2D/3D/DVD Playback - BP540Item#: LGE-102334117 | Model#: BP540
Currently Out Of Stock!
LG Smart 3D Blu-ray Disc Player - BP540 Product Details
LG Smart 3D Blu-ray Disc Player - BP540
The LG Smart 3D Blu-ray Disc Player lets you access movies, videos, games and apps in a simple-to-use interface. With Built-in Wi-Fi its even easier to take advantage of Internet access while keeping your entertainment space tidy by using less wires and clutter. LGs unique Private Sound Mode 2.0 allows you to hear the audio from your Blu-ray, DVD or streaming service through your compatible Smartphone or tablet. Plug in your earphones to your Smartphone and you can have the volume as loud as you want without disturbing anyone around you. Access premium content from providers like Hulu Plus, Netflix and YouTube direclty through your LG Smart TV. DLNA makes sharing media from compatible devices a snap. Purchase the LG Smart 3D Blu-ray Disc Player today!
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Manufactured by: LG Electronics
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Shipping Weight: 4.1500 pound(s)
Click here for full warranty and support information
- LG Electronics logos are registered trademarks of LG Electronics. All others trademarks and copyrights mentioned herein are the property of their respective owners.


text:
32 cu. ft. Rubbermaid Large Horizontal Shed
by Rubbermaid | Item #: 676378 | Model #: FG374701OLVSS |
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Rubbermaid's shed tackles the toughest of storage tasks—like holding muddy trash cans, bikes or lawn mowers—all while resisting leaks, UV damage and dings and dents.
About this item
The only double-walled storage shed in its class (horizontal storage sheds with 25 - 40 cubic feet of space), Rubbermaid's Large Horizontal Storage Shed is durable and weather-resistant. An easy, hassle-free storage solution, it comes with a heavy duty, impact resistant floor and has a storage capacity of 32 cubic feet. The shed can accommodate one wood shelf (not included).
- Storage capacity: 32 cubic feet
- Inside dimensions: 4'3" W x 2' D x 3'6" H
- Durable: leak-resistant, dent-resistant, weather-resistant
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- Heavy duty, impact resistant floor included
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About Me
Hi!...My name is JaCorey Robinson...I was born and Raised in Many, Louisiana...i moved to Houston, Texas when i was eight, and i started skating when i was twelve. The reason why i started skateboarding was because i wanted to do something different than the other black kids were doing like, football, basket ball, and track and stuff and i just love the skateboarding vibe! My stance is regular, I've been skating for four years now, I have a video up so check that out!! and I love music, skateboarding and my family!!
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'Evil Dead': 5 good reasons to see this weekend's devilishly entertaining horror reboot
3) The acting is better than in the original
Oh, stop it. No one ever became a fan of "The Evil Dead" because of its brilliant performances, they became a fan because it's a bloody fun ride with a wicked directorial eye behind the camera. With its more earnest drug-addiction setup, this "Evil Dead" is a different animal than Raimi's goofier original, and piss-poor acting could have sunk the entire endeavor. Thankfully, Levy's go-for-broke performance is supported by mostly strong work from her fellow cast members, including Shiloh Fernandez (as Mia's brother David), Lou Taylor Pucci (as the wise-cracking Eric) and Jessica Lucas (as Mia's fiercely-loyal best friend Olivia). Pucci in particular nails his could've-been-thankless role by bringing to it a tongue-in-cheek sensibility that never feels precious.
4) It's funny as Hell
Despite the remake's weightier backstory, Alvarez smartly never loses sight of the pitch-black comedy that made Raimi's original such a pleasure to watch. Treating the over-the-top subject matter too seriously would've felt like a betrayal of the "Evil Dead" brand, but luckily every grisly gag here boasts an undercurrent of Grand Guignol outrageousness that makes you laugh even as you remain fully entrenched in the horror.
5) The effects are almost entirely practical
Having been duped by talk of "minimal CGI" before (hello, "The Thing"), at this point I'm prone to writing off similar claims as public-relations nonsense. But "Evil Dead" is the real deal - a throwback to the era in which the original film was made that accomplishes almost every single effect "in-camera." While this no doubt proved a torturous ordeal for the actors during filming, on screen it works brilliantly in keeping us engaged and undistracted by a disheartening collection of lazy green-screen moments. That blood spewing out of Jane Levy's mouth directly into co-star Jessica Lucas's face? Well, it ain't made out of pixels.
Will you be seeing "Evil Dead" this weekend? Let us know in the comments.


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At least five roads in Perry County are closed due to flooding or downed trees from Hurricane Sandy, according to emergency officials.
The closed roads include:
- Liberty Valley Road in Saville Township.
- Center Square Road in Toboyne Township.
- Tressler Road in Tyrone Township.
- Creek Road in Sherman's Dale
- Middle Ridge Road, Saville Township.
Dispatchers say Ickesburg in the western end of the county received the brunt of the damage. Also, there are around 1,200 utility customers without electricity in Perry County, man in Center and Northeast Madison townships.


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GREEN BAY, WI — It was one of those days that all teams experiences in baseball, and the Growlers suffered such a defeat at the hands of the Green Bay Bullfrogs, falling 16-1 in Green Bay, Wis. on Thursday night.
The Bullfrogs scored runs in three consecutive innings, beginning in the second frame to chase Kalamazoo starter Jacob Post (Ohio State) in the fitfth inning. Kent Williams (Indiana) came on in relief for the Growlers. Green Bay's nine-run sixth inning sealed the deal as fifteen batters came to the plate, recording six hits, two hit batsmen, and three walks. In addition, the big blow in the sixth for Green Bay was Dean Long's (Emporia State) two run home run, his second of the year.
The Growlers offense only mustered four hits off starter and winner Tyler Buss (Coffeyville C.C.), as the Western Michigan contingency of Brett Sunde and Jared Kujawa represented all the hits for the evening. Post evened his record at 1-1 for the year with the loss for Kalamazoo, as the Growlers' losing streak now stands at four games. Green Bay won its third straight and the sixth of its last eight. The Growlers have been swept in their last two series, but travel home Friday and host the Waterloo Bucks at Homer Stryker Field. First pitch is scheduled for 7:05pm.
The Kalamazoo Growlers are a member of the finest developmental league for elite college baseball players, the Northwoods League. Playing its 21st season of summer collegiate baseball, the Northwoods League is the largest organized baseball league in the world with 18 teams, drawing significantly more fans, in a friendly ballpark experience, than any league of its kind. A valuable training ground for coaches, umpires and front office staff, more than 115 Northwoods League players have advanced to Major League Baseball, including Cy Young Award winner Max Scherzer (DET) and MLB All-Stars Chris Sale (CWS), Jordan Zimmermann (WAS), Curtis Granderson (NYAll league games are viewable live via the Northwoods League YouTube channel. For more informationM), Allen Craig (STL) and Ben Zobrist (TB). , visit http://www.growlersbaseball.com.


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(Sofia, 23 May, 2009) In the last, tenth round of the super chess tournament in Sofia he won against Magnus Carlsen from Norway and became sole leader in the final standings with 6,5 points. The tournament was officially closed by the CEO of M-Tel Josef Vinatzer. For the most attractive game in the tournament was chosen the clash between Topalov and Wang in the fourth round. The award was handed by the chair of the supervisory board of Bulstrad Life Vienna Insurance Group - Rumen Yanchev.
Participants: http://www.mtelmasters09.com/en/participants.html
Shirov Alexei
Carlsen Magnus
Topalov Veselin
Wang Yue
Dominguez Perez Leinier
Ivanchuk Vassily
Thx for posting this ,very useful material ;)
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text:
This deal has ended.
Lenox takes an extra $20 off orders of $80 or more via this link, including the Kate Spade Collection. Check out the Belle Boulevard 4-piece Stainless Hostess Set, down from $82 to $62 with the link and the Morella Avenue Dinnerware Set, starting at $25 or four for $80 with the link. Shipping is from $11.95 and sales tax is charged in most states.No longer available


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Icomania guess the icon just updated the developer fix this game so we can continue create this answers, yesterday we stuck at level 65 because this game stop and cannot continue whatever we try, but now this problem solved we can play this game smoother at our Galaxy Tab 2. if you update/install this game today then you can play this game without any problem.
|Level 66 singer black hair
|Level 67 character hammer wing
|Level 68 singer orange hair
|Level 69 movie red eye mask
|Level 70 character
|Level 71 singer pink hair
|Level 72 character old man hat
|Level 73 singer black white earrings
|Level 74 movie red eye canine
|Level 75 singer fat earring black
|Level 76 character
|Level 77 singer brown hair
|Level 78 character face half skull
|Level 79 singer bald eye glass
|Level 80 character
|Level 81 singer man eyeglass bowties
|Level 82 singer male brown hair
|Level 83 singer brown skin red lip
|Level 84 singer black
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|Level 86 singer
|Level 87 brand
|Level 88 movie kids blue eyes
|Level 89 character
|Level 90 brand white van
|Level 91 movie girl brown hair
|Level 92 character
|Level 93 brand
|Level 94 movie us army
|Level 95 actor pirate
|Level 96 brand chocolate bar
|Level 97 character smurf red hat
|Level 98 movie sword yellow
|Level 99 brand: sandwich
|Level 100 character: alien red finger
Done icomania guess the word answers for level 66 to 100, please share this page with your friends if you think this solutions useful for others.
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text:
Mattias Gardell
Hans Bertil Mattias Gardell (born 10 August 1959) is a Swedish scholar of comparative religion. He is the current holder of the Nathan Söderblom Chair of Comparative Religion at Uppsala University, Sweden. He is also the first award winner of Jan Myrdals big prize in 2009, and received The Royal Swedish Academy of Letters, History and Antiquities Award for Distinguished Research in the Humanities, the Royal Gold Medal, in 2003.
Mattias Gardell was born in Solna, Stockholm County, Sweden. He is the son of Bertil Gardell, a professor in social psychology, and the brother of writer and comedian Jonas Gardell. He earned a Ph.D. in the history of religions at Stockholm University in 1995 and became a docent in 1999. He has been working at the Department of Comparative Religion and the Centre for Research in International Migration and Ethnic Relations at Stockholm University. He has also lived and studied in Cairo, Egypt. In March 2006 he was appointed the first holder (from 1 July 2006) of the Nathan Söderblom Chair of Comparative Religion at Uppsala University.[1]
Gardell specializes in the study of religious extremism and religious racism in the United States, studying groups such as the Ku Klux Klan, Nation of Islam, and folkish movements in Neopaganism (Odinism). Ron McVan, who collaborated with Gardell for Gods of the Blood, states that he had "once sworn an oath of brotherhood to me in my Viking hof." Gardell is partly blamed by McVan for accusations of plagiarism.[2]
His 1995 dissertation on Louis Farrakhan and the Nation of Islam was published in both British and American editions.[1]
As an expert on Islamophobia, he testified as an expert witness in the Trial of Anders Behring Breivik.[3]
Gardell is married to Edda Manga. He has nine children, Linus, Emma, Moa, Ida, Sofia, Stefan, Kim, Amanda, and Ina.
Political views[edit]
Gardell is a libertarian socialist and a known Human Rights defender.[4] In the past he considered himself pagan and has called himself a "spiritual anarchist".[5]
Gardell was one of eleven Swedish activists from Ship to Gaza participating in the flotilla that tried to break the Israeli embargo of the Gaza strip. Along with his wife, Gardell was aboard MV Mavi Marmara during the Israeli armed forces raid on the flotilla on the morning of 31 May 2010.[6] He was deported from Israel and landed in Sweden on 3 June along with his wife and other Swedish participants.[7] He told Swedish journalists "We were victims of a massive military assault ... It can not be described as anything but piracy." He also stated that the soldiers came on board with fully loaded weapons equipped with laser sights and at least four people were killed execution style.[8]
- Countdown to Armageddon: Minister Farrakhan and the Nation of Islam in the Latter Days. Stockholm: Stockholm University. 1995. ISBN 91-7153-370-2. (dissertation)
- In the Name of Elijah Muhammad: Louis Farrakhan and the Nation of Islam. Durham: Duke University Press. 1996. ISBN 0-8223-1852-0.
- Rasrisk: rasister, separatister och amerikanska kulturkonflikter (in Swedish). Stockholm: Federativ. 1998. ISBN 91-86474-22-7.
- Gods of the Blood: The Pagan Revival and White Separatism. Durham: Duke University Press. 2003. ISBN 0-8223-3059-8.
- Bin Ladin i våra hjärtan: globaliseringen och framväxten av politisk islam (in Swedish). Stockholm: Leopard. 2005. ISBN 91-7343-024-2.
- Tortyrens återkomst (in Swedish). Stockholm: Leopard. 2008. ISBN 978-91-7343-171-2.
- Islamofobi (in Swedish), Stockholm: Leopard, 2010, ISBN 978-91-7343-288-7
- ^ a b "Mattias Gardell ny professor i jämförande religionsvetenskap" (Press release) (in Swedish). Uppsala University. 8 March 2006. Retrieved 2008-11-10.
- ^ O.R. Blotar Question by Ron McVan, dated between 16/18 October 2010
- ^ http://www.vg.no/nyheter/innenriks/22-juli/rettssaken/artikkel.php?artid=10065879
- ^ Ohlin, Pontus (3 April 2006). "Anarkist, hedning och professor" (in Swedish). Vår bostad. Archived from the original on 2006-05-23. Retrieved 2008-11-11.
- ^ http://fof.se/tidning/2007/2/mot-mattias-gardell-hedningen-som-forsvarar-politisk-islam
- ^ Högström, Erik (31 May 2010). "Gardell ombord på bordat fartyg" (in Swedish). Expressen. Retrieved 2010-05-31.
- ^ "Alla svenskar från Gazakonvojen hemma igen". Ekothttp://sverigesradio.se/sida/gruppsida.aspx?programid=83&grupp=11418&artikel=3753332
|transcripturl=missing title (help). 2010-06-03. Sveriges Radio. P1.
- ^ Bitte Hammargren (3 June 2010). "SvD: "Det var rena avrättningar"" (in Swedish). Svd.se. Retrieved 2010-06-05.
External links[edit]
- Media related to Mattias Gardell at Wikimedia Commons
- 1959 births
- Living people
- People from Solna Municipality
- Stockholm University alumni
- Uppsala University faculty
- Historians of religion
- Swedish historians
- Swedish anarchists
- Swedish socialists
- Researchers of new religious movements and cults
- Pagan studies scholars
- Scholars of Islamophobia
- Academics and writers on far-right extremism


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Copyright 2015 Concrete Textures Inc. / All Rights Reserved.


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Terrific Apps for Back to School for Instructors and StudentsEducation
We won't hide the fact that we think the newRead More
Best of TechWiseTV 2010 – Vote Now!TechWiseTV
var tag = document.createElement('script'); tag.src = 'https://www.youtube.com/iframe_api'; var firstScriptTag = document.getElementsByTagName('script')[0]; firstScriptTag.parentNode.insertBefore(tag, firstScriptTag); var player; function onYouTubeIframeAPIReady() { jQuery('.youTubePlay').each(function() { var iframeID = jQuery(this).attr('id'); player = new YT.Player(iframeID, { height: '390', width: '640', videoId: iframeID, events: { 'onStateChange': onPlayerStateChange } }); }); } function onPlayerStateChange(event) { if (event.data == 0) { sendVideo(); cdc_event_tracker("View Video"); } } Ok, now is the time to get your votes in…three top notch shows have been elevated as nominee's forRead More
Channel Partner Contracts: Things to ConsiderSmall Business
I love a catchy title! No. Seriously. I really do. But certain things in business are worth reading, even ifRead More
Does Your Data Belong in the Cloud?Small Business
You can't pick up an IT trade publication these days without seeing an article about cloud computing. This isRead More
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Small businesses in the U.S. spend more than $60 billion annually on energy, according to Energy Star, aRead More


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By BEN
Web: nj.com/ben
Phone: 856-451-1000, ext. 556
Cellphone: 856-237-6645
U.S. Army: RA13815980
The column that worries about the little people.
Good afternoon!
It will be freezing or below tonight, Tuesday night and Wednesday night.
But it's just a number.
When is the last time a business was open all night in Hopewell Township?
That's about to change during the first week of March.
Not only is the Sunoco station on the Shiloh Pike going 24/7, but so is the mini-mart that is being retrofitted next to it.
That's the old Hopewell Custard building.
It's the second gas station in the area to go all night.
The other is the Wawa at Carll's Corner.
The Shell station in Bridgeton was once open all night.
You are invited to attend the Millville Woman's Club Dessert Meeting on Thursday, at 1 p.m.,
Program: "Importance of Art in Education"
Presented by Stephen Moore
Reservations: Carol Dickson, 856-765-5372.
Hostesses: Irene Bird and Shirley Selfridge.
Put on your dancing shoes.
Friday night at Bridgeton's VFW Post 1795, Johnny Bravo DJ from 7 to 11 p.m.
Members and guest welcome.
"I want to ensure that those 20 babies murdered just before Christmas, and the two firemen murdered Christmas Eve are not forgotten.
"This makes me remember the famous saying of the late Rodney King, 'Can't we just get along.'
"There are articles which I have read, the latest that Staten Island School Commission is thinking of hiring 300-500 retired police to patrol some of their 1,700-plus schools.
"This does not even make sense for multiple reasons, including their being devastated by hurricane Sandy, and relief is being held up in D.C.
"Second, this number of officers does not even cover all their schools, so how do they make a determination where the need is?
"As in Marlborough, where the mayor has placed an armed guard in each of the town's schools.
"He never did a of study of how many entrances/exits in each school, and how he plans to protect each entrance safely.
"We hear of the NRA training teachers to shoot, and that's all we need in our classrooms, our children being afraid to go to school for 'fear of some bad man' coming in, and they are caught in the crossfire between armed people.
"This is a serious problem that requires each town, city, state and the federal government to sit down and listen to all sides of the issue.
"We should not be afraid to send our children or grandchildren out to play in the yard and being shot in the crossfire of some gang, or drive by shooting.
"We should not be afraid of being killed in our own homes by criminals who have broken in and have automatic weapons.
"Congress should not be afraid to have a meeting at a shopping center and being shot, along with the bystanders listening to them.
"We should not be afraid of going to a movie and having some madman going into that theater and having 100 rounds in the gun, and killing and injuring hundreds.
"We should not go shopping in the mall and be afraid some person will walk in with a semi-automatic or autmatic weapon and kill and injured multiple people.
"At least some gun shows have shown restraint, and banned multi-ammo clips or A 15s and other automatic weapons.
"This, of course, does not stop some dealers from going to the parking lot and sell illegal guns to whomever wants them, as long as the money is right.
"We want constructive, realistic safety laws for firearms.
"We do not want to take away people's guns, used for hunting or self protection.
"However, we don't need guns that will have the ability to shoot 30 to 100 rounds on the streets.
"Right now, many people have bought up these guns, and put them away because they are concerned.
"We need to address this issue, and depend on these same people having those guns registered, properly locked up or even make them so they are inoperable.
"Gun buyback programs are working well, and need to be expanded.
"Perhaps the military should think about doing this, and buy the semi- and automatic weapons, which would probably cost the taxpayers a lot less per weapon then the military is paying contractors for.
"I want people to remember that every day in America 30 people are killed by guns, and that Chicago had 500 murders with guns last year.
"Because of budget cuts, we had cuts in our police in Cambridge, and we had the county step in.
"As a result, we had inexperienced officers there, and because of an error in booking a person, three officers were shot.
"So this problem also needs to be addressed by towns, cities and the state to ensure we have enough trained police officers to deal with the increased violence.
"We as mothers, fathers, grandparents, friends, etc., need to ensure that our paid politicians sit down and discuss these problems.
"We need NRA members to stop and read about the monies that NRA makes from automatic gun and multi-ammo manufactures, that they use to lobby our Congress so gun legislation is not passed.
"Stop calling this gun control, and start calling it gun safety legislation.
"I am sure that many gun owners would be happy to sit down at this table and let us know exactly what needs to be done.
"But we all need to stand up and speak out that putting more guns in our schools will not protect our children.
"I am sure the monies on Staten Island could be better used right now for Hurricane Sandy rebuilding, opening closed schools, etc.
"We don't want more teachers laid off just to pay for part-time retired police officers, who can't possibly stop a criminal with a semi-automatic, with 30 ammo clips.
"Please don't let this issue die. I am asking everyone to get involved.''
— Edna Birch
Carneys Point
Edna, gun buybacks do not work.
They do not serve the purpose you want.
No one who plans on using their handgun for whatever purpose is going to sell it to you.
It is not "one more gun off the street'' because the guns you are buying back are not on the street.
Would buying up cocaine "take one more ounce off the street?''
MY KIND OF TOWN: Where pencils don't make spelling mistakes, but they do have erasers.


text:
As wrestling fans there have always been those matches that we have wanted to see. Yet there one if not many reasons that the matches never took place; either the competitors worked for different promotions, one or both of them were either retired and/or dead, or they just never wanted to work with each other. Though it goes without saying that if these matches had occurred that they would have been five star instant classics.
The Supermatches That We Wished We Saw or Never Thought We Will
By Ryan Sz ,
This would definitely have to be a ladder match. These two high flyers would be so evenly matched against each other it would be just a matter of time to see who would hit their finisher first. Yet this match has no chance of happening unless either Morrison or Styles switch promotions.
Here would be a great brawler/technical matchup between two legends. Not only can both men pull off the occasional aerial manuever but you have the submission style of Sting to go against the heavy handed brawler style of the Undertaker. This match could be made even better if it was in a steel cage/cell with the backgrounds that both men have in those structures. Yet with the Undertaker closer to certain retirement and Sting possibly in the same boat, not to mention it could only happen if Taker went to TNA as Sting vowed to never wrestle in the WWE, this match is one that will surely never happen.
Both of these men are renowned wrestlers and would definitely put on a great technical match. Angle would definitely have the edge when it comes to using submissions but Swagger might have him in the power department. This is one match that has a more than slight chance of happening if Angle decides to leave TNA if the rumors prove true and he would certainly give the All-American American a run for his money.
Here is one of two fights that fans were salivating over seeing during the Monday Night Wars. The two biggest names during that time would have put on a battle for the ages. This would also hopefully silence the arguments about who was the better headliner. This match if it ever took place would have had to be at Wrestlemania because that would be the only venue big enough for a match of this magnitude. This will probably never happen as Austin is retired from wrestling and most likely never coming back as a in ring performer. Hey, at least we got to see him give the stunner to Goldberg after his horrendous match with Brock Lesnar.
Both men were beyond great technical fighters and both can go back and forth at the top of any list of greatest speakers in wrestling. This is the match that should have happened instead of the Rock/Goldberg match. It would have been a great back and forth match between the two and with how well they can use a mic there would have been great buildup to the match. Also, as both men are known for being dirty fighters at times this would have been great when the Rock came back for that brief period as a heel only to be equalized by the infamous low blow kick of Flair. Yet due to the Rock now starring in crappy kids movies and Ric Flair busting his head open on a nightly basis for the delight of no one, this will most likely never happen.
Was there any doubt that this wouldn't be on the list. This was close to happening but due to disagreements about how the match would play out Austin was knocked down to fighting Scott Hall and the Rock filled in for Austin to put on a spectacular match with Hogan. This is one that needed to happen between the two biggest names in wrestling history and become the greatest match of all time. These men both knew their way around the ring and could cut promos with the best of them, as if they would have needed to hype this match to get people interested. Yet with Hogan in TNA and Austin retired this falls under the heading of so close, yet so far away.


text:
The following question seems unusual, but if someone figures out how to do it then we can do a single mxEval() call for all the algebras in a model to test the algebras for conformability during mxRun before the optimizer is called, instead of one mxEval() call per algebra. This could speed up our test suite (not by much, expect something like 5 - 10% increase).
https://stat.ethz.ch/pipermail/r-help/2009-September/211731.html [2]
[1] http://openmx.psyc.virginia.edu/users/mspiegel
[2] https://stat.ethz.ch/pipermail/r-help/2009-September/211731.html
[3] http://openmx.psyc.virginia.edu/thread/166
[4] http://openmx.psyc.virginia.edu/thread/119
[5] http://openmx.psyc.virginia.edu/forums/openmx-developer-forums/administration


text:
[left]Yueshii Ling
Theme Song(OPTIONAL!!!!!): Stand Up by Lead [Japanese but with English Translations. Sorry but J-Pop is addictive to me otl]
Gender: Male.
Nickname: None.
Age: 16
Nationality: Chinese
Goal: Kill all the freaks who dared put him in this position...failing that, win.
Appearance: Yueshii has a leaner build compared to others of his gender, shorter than most at 5'6".
Preferred Clothing: A simple black jacket over white shirt and trousers, along with an armband his sister gifted him with/
Height: 5'6"
Weight: 59 kgs.
Hair Color: Black.
Eye Color: Steel-grey.
Personality: Even though Yueshii is usually cold and apathetic towards the world in general, he is very passionate about the few things he does care about. Loyal to a fault, he can be downright ruthless when it comes to protecting things that are important to him - namely, his only living relation, his sister and rules. On the subject of rules, Yueshii is a stickler for them. As long as he accepts them as being necessary for the safety of certain things and persons, he doesn't care if they are harsh or unfair, and takes it upon himself to enforce them. He is antisocial and has nothing but contempt for anyone that is not his sister, but loves animals and birds. He hates being restrained by anything or anyone, and will go to great lengths in order to be left alone. He's really hard to motivate, but once he is motivated, he becomes strangely optimistic and enthusiast, giving it his all. While he usually stays clear off people, he can be quite kind to those who catch his interest.
His determination is the stuff of legends. He never gives up, no matter how much physical or mental pain it might cause him. Blessed with a strong willpower, his strength of will is only enforced by the fact that he hates being classed with normal people who give up easily.
All his outer coldness is mostly because he never feels at ease with others around and tries to cover up for this 'weakness' by putting up an uncaring front. Around his sister, he is often upbeat and kind - almost so much that his personality seems to undergo a complete reversal.
His sister
Fluffy things (This one's a secret, though!)
Cool Weather
Fresh water
Loud People
Breaking rules
Skills: Is skilled with a variety of weapons [ tonfas, throwing knives, rods, swords...but he prefers tonfas.]
Personal History: Yueshii was born to unmarried parents, an American father and Chinese mother. His father abandoned them shortly after his third birthday. His mother went almost crazy over this betrayal and blamed Yueshii for it, regularly beating him and bringing men to her house to forget his father, but things took a turn for the worse when she bore another child - his sister, Lan. This time around though, Lan's father married her. But he could never accept Yueshii as his own child, and to top everything off, his mother committed suicide, leaving behind a note that simply said she couldn't forget Yueshii's father. His step-father was driven mad with rage and grief - literally. He set fire to the house on the night of their mother's funeral. Fortunately, Yueshii managed to pick Lan up and run outside, saving their lives. From then on, it was a constant hell of foster parents and orphanages, until Yueshii finally managed to track down his sister and get a scholarship in a nearby school so they could be near each other.
Other: None.


text:
For the sake of all of our sanity, and for the sake of the Michigan basketball program -- and athletic department as a whole -- I hope the Wolverines make the NCAA Tournament this year. It would do so, so much for that long-struggling team, and so much for the fan base.
If you believe Rivals.com writer Andrew Skwara, not only is the Big Dance a possibility this year, but Michigan might be a contender for bigger things real soon.
The Wolverines have a go-to scorer to lean on in sophomore guard Manny Harris, who's off to a great start (20.8 ppg, 7.4 rpg), and coach John Beilein is one of the best X's and O's coaches in college basketball. Add a dominating big man to the mix and suddenly the Wolverines look dangerous.


text:
March 29 – April 9
At Tower City
Only CIFF members can login. Join now for enhanced web features, discounts and dibs on tickets, advanced mailings and more!join
Festival Guide
Events + Updates
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Year: 2011
Country: USA
Run Time: 76 minutes
The biggest fear of any stage actor is being on stage and suddenly forgetting their lines or not even knowing what play they're in. What happens when that nightmare becomes the reality? Caris Corfman was a prized graduate of the Yale School of Drama and a well-respected, professional actress on the brink of stardom when she was found to have a brain tumor. The subsequent surgery to remove the tumor left her without the ability to retain new memories. CARIS' PEACE is the story of Corfman's struggle with depression and the tribulations of living a normal life. Gaylen Ross with Rebecca Nelson have created this powerful documentary which provides an intimate look into the fearless pursuit of Corfman's life's work—the creation of her own one-woman show dealing with the repercussions of her surgery. CARIS' PEACE takes you for a ride of highs and lows; but most of all, it provides a glimpse of the courage necessary to face your biggest fears. Interviews with Tony Shalhoub, Lewis Black, Kate Burton, and many more. – T.W.
CIFF36 Screenings
Friday, March 23, 2012 at 4:15 PM
Saturday, March 24, 2012 at 4:50 PM
Sunday, March 25, 2012 at 10:30 AM
Standing Up Competition
Women Of The World
Gaylen Ross
Nicolas Duval-Adassovsky, Laurent Zeitoun, Yann Zenou
Olivier Nakache, Éric Toledano
Mathieu Vadepied
Dorian Rigal-Ansous
Principal Cast
François Cluzet, Omar Sy
Director Bio
Gaylen Ross has produced, directed and written award-winning documentary films that have received national and international broadcast and exhibition. Killing Kasztner: The Jew Who Dealt With Nazis was an official selection of the Toronto International Film Festival, broadcast in England on the BBC, and has enjoyed an unprecedented theatrical release in the US.
Select Filmography
"Listen To Her Heart: The Life and Music of Laurie Beechman" (2003), "Killing Kasztner" (2008), CARIS' PEACE (2011)
Community Partner
Cleveland Play House
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text:
The school board is scheduled to vote on a new two-year contract for teachers Monday evening. Full terms of the proposed deal will be made public by Saturday, said Robb Cowie, district communications director.
That change complies with a demand set forth by the Portland Business Alliance Thursday afternoon that said, in part, that the group "will consider supporting the agreement... (if) the contract terms, with specific contract language, are made public at least 48 hours before the school board votes on the agreement to allow for full public review."
Sandra McDonough, president of the business alliance, said it is in the school district's interest to be open with the public about the details and merits of the contract proposal, given that the district is asking voters to support two tax hikes to support schools.
She said she made that case to Portland Superintendent Carole Smith and school board co-Chairwoman Pam Knowles Thursday, and they saw her point.
"I called them up and said it would be nuts to wait" until minutes before the board vote to disclose the terms, McDonough said. "The public needs to see what it is...
They are in the process of asking voters to support substantial new money for schools, so they really need to make sure that Portlanders can see the terms."
Details of the tentative contract agreement are being held confidential until after 3,200 members of Portland Association of Teachers decide whether to accept them. Some Portland teachers voted Thursday and the rest must do so by 5 p.m. Friday, said union president Rebecca Levison. Ballots will be tallied quickly once 5 p.m. hits,
she said.
Leaders of the school district administration and the union reached a deal on terms for a teachers contract Wednesday evening. That decision came with surprising swiftness, given that the full negotiating teams from both sides weren't set to present their initial proposals until the end of next week.
Superintendent Carole Smith</cq> said she is pleased that the proposed new contract calls for teachers to be evaluated in a more effective way. The district's current teacher-evaluation form dates back to the 1980s.
Neither she nor Levison would reveal anything about the pay or benefits called for in their deal. All talks were held behind closed doors, often with a small subset of the negotiating team for either side.
The speed of the agreement "is a sign of how well we work together. .¤.¤. The voice of teachers and the respect that is given to us as professionals have been brought to a higher level. The district is listening to teachers as the educational experts they are."