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Q: Steve: I am looking to start an online business. This stuff is all new to me and I am not even sure where to start, but my first question is this: Where do I find products to sell? I don't know any distributors. Who do I call? I don't want to look like a dummy. Thanks for any help you can give me. — Dory
A: Consider these startling statistics:
According to Forrester Research retail sales rose 2.5% in 2009. While that is surprising enough, consider this: Online sales rose 11%.
If you are looking to start a business, even a part-time business, you would be hard-pressed, in this economy, to find a sector growing at an 11% clip. Forrester forecasts that e-sales in the U.S. will go from about $173 billion this year to about $250 billion in 2014. That's booming China kinda growth my friends.
So the answer is yes, starting an online business is a smart move.
Here are the pros and cons:
Pros: The cost of entry is low; you have access to global markets; it is an automated, 24/7 profit center; you can look every bit as big as the big boys; the overhead is low (more on that in a minute); and the profit potential is large.
Cons: It takes work to get people to learn of the site; there is no personal contact as with a retail store; creating credibility (and thus customers) can be a challenge; it takes time to get things really cooking; and customers cannot physically see or feel your products.
The pros definitely outweigh the cons.
Here are 7 Steps to Starting an E-Commerce Business:
1. Create a great site: This is No. 1 for a reason. You have to have a great-looking, intuitive, easy-to-navigate site if you are going to be taken seriously by potential e-customers. Your site must look professional. Pictures and content must load quickly. There can be no dead links. Have a robust "About" page.
The good news is that it is easy and affordable to create a great site – look for online hosts that have pre-made templates you can customize.
Web surfers who come to your site will judge it in about three seconds. That's all you've got. You better impress them the moment they hit it.
2. Pick your products: I have a buddy who owns an antiques store. His business success motto is: "It's all in the buying." He knows if he can find the right product at the right price, he will make a profit.
The same is true for you.
Where do you find great, inexpensive products? It depends on what you plan to sell. It may be a matter of spending weekends at yard sales and on Craigslist picking up some good, cheap stuff. If you want a more formal arrangement, there are wholesalers and distributors for almost any product you need.
3. Have an online catalog or store: When you shop online, there is usually a catalog of products to choose from: Tiny pictures with product descriptions. That is what you have to do. Happily, you do not have to create this from scratch. Your e-commerce site host (see below) will offer a store creation tool, with point-and-click ways to add products, pictures, and descriptions.
4. Have the ability to process payments: This issue is two-fold: The financial ability to process credit card payments comes when you have a merchant account. Search for that term online. The physical ability to process such payments is, again, something your host will offer. Search for "online merchant services" or "E-commerce hosting."
5. Market and promote your site: All these steps are important, but this one may be a little more important. People have to find your site. No matter how nice it looks or how cool your products, if no one knows about the site, it is a waste of time, money, and effort.
Master search engine optimization (SEO) techniques. Engage in viral marketing. Tweet. Have a Facebook fan page. Try pay-per-click. Advertise.
6. Fulfillment: You have to deliver what you sell, on budget and on time. Don't forget to add the cost of shipping to your prices.
7. After-sales support: How will you handle returns? What should you upsell? Support is the difference between a one-time sale and creating a customer for life.
Ask an Expert appears Mondays. You can e-mail Steve Strauss at: email@example.com you can click here to see previous columns. Steven D. Strauss is a lawyer, author and speaker who specializes in small business and entrepreneurship. His latest book is The Small Business Bible. You can sign up for his free newsletter, "Small Business Success Secrets!" at his website —www.mrallbiz.com. Follow him on Twitter at http://twitter.com/stevestrauss.
Guidelines: You share in the USA TODAY community, so please keep your comments smart and civil. Don't attack other readers personally, and keep your language decent. Use the "Report Abuse" button to make a difference. Read more.


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Last Week: 11-5
This Thursday: 1-0
The Seahawks are playing a 10 AM road game against a good team. Yeah, they ain't winning. But what do I know? I've picked against my favorite team only 4 times (vs. Arizona, vs. Carolina, vs. Packers, vs. Jets).
On another note, ESPN have treated this Jovan Belcher tragedy so poorly. The very basic details show he killed his girlfriend, killed himself, thereby orphaning his infant daughter. That's not worthy of some sort of tribute like they're doing right now on Sunday Countdown. The "murder" part in murder-suicide is fairly important, and glossing over it is irresponsible journalism, but this is after all an irresponsibly bad TV network.
Anyway, here are the picks….
Bills over Jaguars
Pats over Dolphins
Texans over Titans
Lions over Colts
Packers over Vikings
49ers over Rams
Cardinals over Jets
Panthers over Chiefs
Bears over Seahawks
Broncos over Bucs
Ravens over Steelers
Chargers over Bengals
Browns over Raiders
Cowboys over Eagles
Giants over Redskins

subset: commoncrawl


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Upgrade: Pinoy (PH) Travel Blog new theme, more updates coming up
After quite a long time of having the old face of PinoyTraveblog.com, we finally decided to re-face it. We implemented a newer look and we will make regular updates from here on.
We also updated our Facebook Cover page.
Hang in there as we are still doing some renovations and touch ups. Meantime, enjoy your stay and let us know if you like the new theme we just implemented.
Please like our Facebook page here, to get regular updates via FB.
In 2013, we updated our logo to this.
And we thought it can look better by incorporating new colors.
And we now have our latest logo.
The 2015 Philippine Travel Blog logo.
We hope you like it!
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The transcriptome of the invasive eel swimbladder nematode parasite Anguillicola crassus
BMC Genomics 2013, 14:87 doi:10.1186/1471-2164-14-87
This article is currently available as a provisional PDF. Reprints are produced from the final PDF, which is normally produced within 3 weeks.
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- Home
- Ingredients
- Rishi Teas for Making Kombucha & Chai
Rishi Teas for Making Kombucha & Chai
At The CheeseMaker, we don't just offer cheese making supplies; we also help you make kombucha. To do so, we offer the finest local teas from Rishi Tea.
Rishi Tea is a local company here in Milwaukee. They offer the highest quality organic and Fair Trade Certified loose leaf teas, fresh each season and direct from tea gardens around the world. They travel thousands of miles each year to work hands-on with skilled artisans whose families have been making traditional teas and herbs for generations. Their direct relationships allow the company to produce rare and exclusive teas that offer an unmatched level of freshness. Being at origin to maintain these relationships is our way of ensuring the quality and authenticity of their teas. We're proud to offer some of the more popular teas especially suited for making kombucha. Also offered are two of their very popular chai tea blends, which you can enjoy cold or hot.


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Simple question, what is the best poll plugin for wordpress.
WP-Polls seems to be widely used:http://wordpress.org/extend/plugins/wp-polls/
I wasn't happy with WP-Polls so I used Polldaddy which is owned by the Wordpress people.
Hi - I need help with this too - I'm trying to find a good free poll plug-in for WP.
I tried using WP-Polls, but unfortunately I just read that the creator is no longer supporting this plug-in so I don't want to start using it. And the PollDaddy free service only allows 100 survey responses total per month, which is way too low (charges $200 annually for 1,000 responses per month).
Can anyone else recommend some alternatives?


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|2008 Metal/Nonmetal
National Mine Rescue Contest
Hall of Fame Inductee
Lee began his mining career at Carey Salt in Hutchinson, Kansas in 1962. He entered mine rescue in 1965 and held the positions of team captain and then trainer until he retired in 1988. After retiring from Carey, Lee accepted employment at Hutchinson Community College where he worked as a State Grants Coordinator until his recent retirement from that position. During his tenure at the college, Lee remained active in mine rescue and established the Kansas Shoot-Out Mine Rescue Competition. He served on the Metal and Nonmetal Mine Rescue Advisory Committee and still remains active as a volunteer.


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Carolina Lock & Key
Choosing a locksmith company that is reliable, trusted, and professional is not an easy choice. Since 1990, our family business has been providing locksmith services to residential and commercial clients across the Carolinas. From Greensboro to Asheville, we have been the community locksmith you can count on.
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Bonded • Licensed • Insured NC State License #0023


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The New York Times Book Review
Three Stages of Amazementby Carol Edgarian
A sweeping, richly compassionate novel about marriage, ambition, and the reclaiming of love—by the bestselling novelist and cofounder of Narrative magazine.
Many love stories end in marriage; rare is the love story that begins with one—already promised, already worn. Set in San Francisco during the first year of Obama's presidency,/i>
A sweeping, richly compassionate novel about marriage, ambition, and the reclaiming of love—by the bestselling novelist and cofounder of Narrative magazine.
Many love stories end in marriage; rare is the love story that begins with one—already promised, already worn. Set in San Francisco during the first year of Obama's presidency, Three Stages of Amazement deftly charts the struggles and triumphs of Lena Rusch and her husband Charlie Pepper, still believe they can have it allsex, love, marriage, children, career, brilliance. But life delivers surprises and testsa stillborn child, an economic crash, a ruthless business rival and the attentions of an old lover. Touched by tragedy and by ordinary hopes unmet, Lena and Charlie must face, for the first time in their lives, real limitation.
Fifteen years after her stunning debut, Rise the Euphrates, Carol Edgarian has created a panoramic and deeply moving story about business and family and the demands of love in our time. She takes readers on a spellbinding journey inside America today, with an unforgettable cast of characters including Cal Rusch, Lena's uncle, a Silicon Valley titan, and Ivy, his socialite wife, who engender complication in the lives of all the people they touch: their grown children, business partners, friends, the servants and workers upon whom the glamorous life dependsand Lena, whose quest for grace is the pulse of this gorgeous novel.
As Lena and Charlie, Ivy and Cal, face the temptations of their youth and the fantasy of the redo, they discover that real life is the ultimate challenge. Told with eloquence and compassion, Three Stages of Amazement is a true thriller of the heart, a riveting story about confronting adversity, gaining wisdom, and finding great love.
Editorial Reviews
The New York Times Book Review
The New York Times
"Furiously compelling… Three Stages of Amazement is a fiery, deeply involving book."—Janet Maslin, New York Times
"Carol Edgarian's novel is a book about grown-ups for grown-ups. Given that we never really grow up, yet have to make our way in the world, it ends up being thought provoking, intelligent, wise, sad, and illuminating. If that makes it sound too lofty, it's not: it's humane and therefore sometimes funny, and it nails the complexities of adulthood with a steel hammer held gently in very capable hands."—Ann Beattie, author of Walks with Men and The New Yorker Stories
"Love, family, marriage, illness and moneythis is a life story and a love story for our era, beautifully observed, sharply etched by a master storyteller."—Amy Bloom, author of Away and Where the God of Love Hangs Out
"In Three Stages of Amazement, Carol Edgarian gives you a brilliant and irresistible look at married life and happiness and the very human limitations of both. She's a wonderful writer."James Salter, author of Light Years and A Sport and a Pastime
"It's a great heart in a great author who loves the villains in a story while fully imbuing the heroes with human flaws and hungers… Seldom have such a true portraits of our era, or any era, appeared."—Rick Bass, author of Where the Sea Used to Be and Why I Came West
"A lovely, resonant novel… This story feels universal. Not to mention generous and graceful and true."—O, the Oprah magazine
""In this gorgeously written, haunting and often hilarious novel, Carol Edgarian conjures a particular moment in America's recent history and unleashes within it a collision of universal forces: love, desire, ambition, loyalty. I can't think of a book that more viscerally evokes the gritty challenge-and casual heroism-of motherhood and marriage."Jennifer Egan, author of A Visit from the Goon Squad
High-octane melodrama from Edgarian (Rise the Euphrates, 1994) about a married couple whose brilliance, beauty and nobility are no safeguard against personal and societal woes during the first year of the Obama presidency.
Former PBS producer Lena Rusch has moved back to her hometown of San Francisco with her husband Charlie Pepper, a working-class Boston boy turned Harvard-trained surgeon/idealistic entrepreneur, and their precocious preschool son Theo. These almost saintly protagonists have been disgustingly happy together, but by the time the novel opens, shortly after the inauguration, life has already started to fall apart. Eleven months ago Lena gave birth to twin girls. One died immediately, and the survivor, Willa, has been in and out of the hospital ever since, her physical and developmental future still uncertain. Lena is exhausted, and she can't count on much help from Charlie, who is jetting around the country desperately promoting the robotic surgery technique he has developed that could change medicine. Unfortunately start-up money has dried up. Then Cal Rusch, Lena's extremely wealthy but estranged uncle, offers his backing. Lena is furious when she finds out, especially since Charlie doesn't tell her himself. Instead, the news comes from Allesandro, Lena's dashing former lover, who now works with Cal. Days after Cal and his socialite wife Ivy—think Nancy Reagan as a democrat—throw a million-dollar bash attended by Charlie and Lena, their lives fall apart too. Not only does Cal face mutiny in his company, both he and Ivy are struck down by fast-acting terminal cancers. Meanwhile, Charlie's financial crisis keeps him too busy to pay adequate attention to his family. Feeling abandoned, Lena turns to Allesandro. Theo runs away and breaks his arm. Cal reveals a deep secret concerning Lena. Willa gets sick a few more times. Finally she learns to crawl, and her parents pull themselves together.
Theatrical hokum, but written with an assurance and energy that will appeal to readers looking for comfort and romantic role models during this difficult era.
Product Details
- 9781439198315
- Publisher:
- Scribner
- Publication date:
- 02/07/2012
- Edition description:
- Simon & Schuster
- Pages:
- 320
- Product dimensions:
- 5.30(w) x 7.90(h) x 0.80(d)
Read an Excerpt
Three Stages of Amazement
The modern marriage has two states, plateau and precipice, and in the winter of our recent crisis—with markets plummeting and even rich folks crying poor; with the dark reign of one tinsel president finally ending, and the promised hope of a new man about to start; yes, with hope rising like a cockamamie kite and fear more common than love—Charlie Pepper forgot his wife.
He didn't mean to. That much Lena knew. She paused at the kitchen sink on New Year's Eve morning, the last day of the lousiest year of their lives, and considered what she needed and what she knew. The crab needed to come out of the fridge. What about butter? She'd forgotten candles. She needed another bag of ice. It had been a year since they'd even thought about hosting a dinner. Since then the world fell down one black hole and she and Charlie fell down another; as yet no one had come back. But Obama was taking over in twenty days and Lena had hope. She also had a sick baby and no lettuce. And if years ago Lena and Charlie promised that their hearts would always be in sync, well, it was a fool's promise, wasn't it? For now their hearts were a cacophony of chuffing and banging, with Charlie's motor driving like a great battleship and hers a bubbling alchemist's pot. Then there were the children's hearts: Theo's drum sounded like quick boots pounding up the stairs, while Willa's was more skittish, the flap-flap of gossamer wings. And there was a third heart so silent it took away sound.
"Usted está mutada en el burro, tiene que seguir," Glo called, on her way out the door after tending Willa half the night so Lena could sleep. "You're on the burro, you might as well go."
In quick-fire Spanish, Lena answered, hoisting the baby onto her shoulder. "The burro is strong. Now why can't he have an extra pair of hands?"
Glo chuckled, her girlish, brown fingers covering her mouth. Seven years ago, Glo crossed the border at night led by a coyote, leaving her two kids and her mother behind in Guatemala. Every Sunday Glo called home, and sometimes her youngest, Rosella, refused to speak to her. Yet here she was talking of Lena's burros. It was life, this crazy life, and if you didn't laugh it broke you. It broke you anyway, but it was better if you laughed.
All day Lena made lists and as she carried Willa up the stairs she started a new one. Butter, candles, ice. If, while working feverishly, Charlie forgot her and the kids, it was never for long. He forgot them repeatedly, at moments, across days, in time. Lena, five years younger but dog-aged in matters of love, likewise misplaced Charlie, with all the worry and push she had to nudge up the road. I ought to write it down: butter, candles, ice, she thought, when Willa started coughing again. Lena ran. Charlie was forty-seven, she was forty-two. They had five years between them and eight years of marriage to their backs and to say they were committed was to say they were in deep.
Yet they missed each other.
And Lena wanted—oh, she wanted—to be touched inside her bones. But Charlie was elsewhere—it might be Uganda, or Boston, or an hour south at the office, or asleep in the bed beside her. Dear Charlie, grinding his jaw.
"Theo," Lena called, grabbing the newspaper as she pushed down the hall on her heels. "I'll have the door closed. Come find me, honey. Don't shout."
She kicked the bathroom door shut and flipped on the shower. As it roared to life, Lena whispered into Willa's tiny ear, "That's it, breathe."
Willa, ten months old, weighed just eleven pounds. In her short life she had been to the hospital a dozen times. With pneumonia, seizures, surgeries, not to mention those four months at the start. The doctors talked gravely of cognitive delays, and worse. Cerebral palsy was a term sometimes used. Lena stopped her ears. It wasn't that she didn't believe, it was that believing took her only so far. What Willa needed, Lena felt sure, was time. Lena's job was to seize time.
As the steam built, Lena first stripped Willa to her diaper, then peeled off her own sweats down to her panties. Making a bed of towels on the tiled floor, she sat—for the first time all morning—with her knees bent, her back against the wall, showing the cabinets her real face, the face she let no one see. Lena Rusch was irreverent, good-looking, plucky. She had a fine if exhausted brain. This meant she couldn't always recall the lists she made, or the ends and even the middles of her sentences, but she always started out with a bang. She was a romantic and, worse, an optimist. Fate had forced her to be practical and stolid, too. The two sides rubbed. She was crazy for her children, her friends, chocolate, and news of any kind. She might be crazy for Charlie, too, if she came across him in the daylight once in a while. In other words, Lena Rusch was extraordinarily ordinary: she worked and reared and hardly slept; she began each day prepared for a surprise.
Preemies did best skin to skin. Lena laid Willa's bare chest like a cloth over her own, and making sure her baby was upright with the world, she gently drummed on the tiny back. Willa moaned, burrowing her face in the cave of Lena's neck. "Sweetheart," Lena murmured. "Come on, come on."
"There you are!" Jesse cried, throwing open the door. They were sisters, and though Jesse was much, much younger, they entered rooms as their mother had taught them, like a storm. "I've been shouting a lung out downstairs. Theo finally—"
"Shut the door, you noodle! You're letting out the steam!"
Jesse did as she was told. But between the blasting shower and the stifling heat, she wouldn't stay long. "What? Is she sick again?" Jesse folded her arms. "Poor pup. Poor you."
"Nah. We're fine."
Technically they were only half sisters. Jesse, sixteen years Lena's junior, was the product of a love affair their mother had, one of many, after Lena's father died. She was as long-limbed and blonde as Lena was curvy and dark. Their mother told everyone that Jesse was helping out with the children until she found a job, but Jesse was a child herself.
"So. What are you wearing tonight?" she asked.
Lena tipped her head against the wall and laughed. "You've got to be kidding."
"Wear your green dress," Jesse advised seriously. "It's about time. And how 'bout I wear your black?"
"Cheeky girl!"
"Am not!"
"Oh, yes." Lena smiled wistfully. It wasn't so long ago (in truth, it felt like a minute) that Lena was the one flying out the door to get wasted at high school parties while little Jesse flapped her hands from her bouncy seat. And while that was long ago, Jesse still manipulated like a child—openly, as if she were the only one playing for keeps. Sighing, Lena rubbed circles in Willa's back. "I gave the black dress to Glo."
"You what? You gave it to the nanny?"
"Not nanny. Glo."
"Christ, Lean."
Truthfully, Lena would have given Gloria Angelica Cardenas anything—anything—for Glo saved Lena's sanity every single day. And besides, the rapture on Glo's face when Lena handed her the box was worth a hundred, maybe a thousand, black dresses. Lena looked up at Jesse, trying to decide if she should take the trouble to explain. But Jesse was looking at herself in the mirror, continuing that frank, daily conversation women have with their faces. "Ugh. New Year's Eve and no guy. I hate my life!"
Jesse turned. "OK, Miss Veteran. When. When is he going to show up?"
Lena's grinned slyly. "They always do."
At last Willa coughed, good and wet. It was enough. Jesse escaped, slamming the door behind her, as Lena put Willa to her breast. They would be there another hour. With one arm hooked under the baby, Lena spread the newspaper across her knees, where the steamy ink would stain her black. She didn't care. This was the moment she'd been waiting for—her reward being four full pages in the New York Times on Bernie Madoff and his colossal Ponzi scheme. Lena was in awe of Madoff, who, by promising steady returns of eighteen percent, had perpetrated the largest stock fraud in history. He'd swindled at every level, from the Wall Street fat cats, to relatives, to Palm Beach society, to grieving Jewish widows, to the mistress who claimed he had a small penis, to Mort Zuckerman, the media titan, to Elie Wiesel, the Auschwitz survivor, to Zsa Zsa Gabor. Yet in the photo on the front page Madoff showed no remorse. He walked the streets, a Jew with a George Washington haircut; he smiled like a shark for the paparazzi.
Her guests arrived all at once. They tossed their coats over the banister and pressed wine and chocolate into Lena's hands. There was much hugging. Lena made a robust effort to herd them into the living room, but they ignored her, following her into the small kitchen, where they grouped like stupid, happy cows.
"Get the fuck out of here!" she cried, laughing helplessly, but they only smiled and kept on talking. These were the beloveds: Lee Swanson, showing off his new baby blue suede jacket, and Josh Klein, Charlie's roommates from college, and Sandy, Josh's wife. When Jesse appeared, having spent the afternoon talking on the phone, tweeting, Facebooking, and smoking a little grass, she made a beeline for Swanson, to tell him that his jacket was his best awful. Laughing, they all agreed.
Meanwhile Lena had four things she couldn't remember and perhaps one of them was burning in the oven. She was about to check when Vi arrived. Violet Vesuvio, dear Vi, was Lena's flag of joy, her best friend since they were sixteen, the year they each lost their virginity, one to a girl and one to a boy.
"Oh, god. The fucking traffic." Vi gripped Lena's shoulders and looked deeply into her eyes. "What. What is it?"
Lena wrinkled her nose. It had been a day.
"All right. We can fix this," Vi said. "Start at the beginning. What have you been eating?"
Lena had a deep, womanly, shit-kicking laugh. "Oh, hi, Maude." Turning, she greeted Vi's new girlfriend, who appeared to be in costume, a men's gray suit and fedora. "You look—"
"Rakish?" Maude tipped her head. Maude was a painter, a decent one; her oversize portraits sold best in Santa Fe and Miami. She was large-boned, mannish, with a small, pretty nose. Vi thought she was tremendous.
"Yes, rakish," agreed Lena, and though undecided about Maude, she hugged her warmly. Everyone was here; they only lacked Charlie. For the next half hour, as she threw dinner together, Lena kept an anxious eye on the door. And when at last Charlie walked through it, she was so startled she nearly dropped a bowl. She plowed into him, backing them into the hall.
"Well, Doctor, I do like to see your face at the end of the year. Remind me, what's your name?"
"Lena's husband," Charlie said, kissing her quickly. He'd been pushing toward this moment for more than two hours in traffic. But now that it was here, and Lena was beside him, Charlie couldn't slow his molecules enough to enjoy her. Instead, he dropped the bags of butter, lettuce, and ice she'd asked for on the floor. "Hey. Can I talk to you a sec?"
"Sure." Lena fiddled with his collar. She was pretending to ignore the gray hollows under his eyes and the smudge on his coat. What she wanted was a good kiss. A good kiss could restore them. Didn't he know? A good kiss could sail them into the New Year just fine. But even as she longed for this, they headed in another direction—she watched with wonder, seeing them go—and instead of saying something romantic she asked, "Did you get the champagne?"
"It's OK. I screwed up on the groceries, but I remembered the booze!"
"Charged it?"
"Course." She frowned. Now, why ask a thing like that? She shook her head and all but moaned. "Charlie, I want it to be … lovely. One night. Can it be lovely?"
"It is."
She tried her best to smile. "All right. What do you want to tell me?"
For two hours fighting the traffic on 280, Charlie had practiced his lines. I got a call today, out of the blue. He had his speech ready and there would be no deep kisses until he got the words out. Until he came clean. But the way she was looking at him, with those yearning green eyes, well, you'd have to be heartless.
"You look great," he said, and meant it. The truth was she looked wan and her hair seemed sort of wild. But even a wan, wild-haired Lena was sweet relief.
Lena patted her hair where Charlie's gaze landed. Did she really look like hell? She wanted so much from the night. If only desire were enough to take them there. "OK," she declared, brushing his lips with hers. "The bar first, then I need five chairs."
Klein wiped his plate clean with a hunk of bread. "God, this is good. Lena, what'd you put in the crab?"
"Butter and butter. A touch of garlic."
"No, something else."
"Jalapeño. The thinnest of slivers."
"Jalapeño! You are a witch, Lena-love. Pass that bowl."
Lena, because she was nursing, had just the one glass, but it burned nicely in her cheeks and in the tops of her ears. She passed the crab to Klein on her right and the salad to Swanson on her left. Now where was Charlie? She looked down the long table, past the winking candles and rosy faces, to the opposite end. He wasn't there. The thought of Charlie absent caught in Lena's throat. And just like that she knew something had happened—something more.
She moved a candlestick aside, the panic rising—as if her heart had been zapped and the ceiling dropped lower. Where was he? From the far end of the table Sandy caught Lena's eye. Sandy was a gynecologist, not a shrink, but since the twins' birth she'd made it her business to keep tabs on Lena. Worse, Lena knew from Vi that Sandy believed that had she been the doc on call she could have prevented the twins' early delivery. It was more than Lena could stand. The hubris. The exposed nerve. It wasn't only her fatigue or pride that Lena didn't want poked. It was a question of luck and unluck—and the tenderest, most unspeakable sorrow. It was, finally, a question of the heart. Lena's heart was tired. And a tired heart is a susceptible one.
"Lena, help me here with Swanny," called Sandy. "The eshag thinks he can cure a chronic sinus infection with amoxicillin!" Eshag was Sandy's favorite word—Armenian for ass—but she applied it to all her favorites. "See that, Swanny—Lena agrees. Listen to me, esh: you have to go in there with napalm."
Lena tried to stand but Josh Klein took her hand and pulled her into her seat. "Don't even think about it," he said kindly. In the wife department, Josh Klein considered Charlie one lucky dog. Then, too, with the market down fifty percent and no bottom in sight, Klein had been wondering all evening if this wasn't the end of the world. He decided that was OK. It was OK if the world ended. He would chat with Lena, drink a little more and see if the forecast changed. Last year he'd brought Lena pots of caviar left over from the Goldman Sachs holiday party. This year couldn't have been more different. A week before Christmas, he'd been forced to fire half of his department—guys and women he'd brought along. His dreams were haunted by their faces. And so Klein filled his and Lena's glasses to the top. "Talk to me. Where were we?"
Lena smiled dimly.
"Come on, Helena. Pretend there's no kids, no worries, sex forever. Money? Well, let's leave money out of it." Klein squeezed her hand. "What are you excited about? Is it Obama? Of course you love him. You and everyone are in love. The man is going to kill what's left of the markets, but let's not go there either. No, not Obama. Too shiny, too glorified. Let's talk about a real skunk. Bernie—Bernie Madoff."
Lena blushed. "Kleiny, are you obsessed with him, too?"
"No. I met him once and that cured me. A few years ago a friend of mine was thinking of investing with Bernie. When my pal asked to see a prospectus, Madoff's people said, 'Bernie doesn't do that. It's a trust thing.' Please. You know, Lena, there's a saying, If it sounds too good to be true, it is."
In fact, Josh Klein had been thinking about Bernie Madoff almost as much as Lena had, but for different reasons. For Lena, Madoff's business was beside the point; it was his motive, his character that intrigued her. For Klein it was just the opposite.
Meanwhile Lena was having what could only be called an inside-outside experience. She was talking with Klein and passing Vi the salt, while her heart searched the house for Charlie.
Lena looked deep into Klein's soul. "What about Madoff's sons?"
"Those two? No question. They did exactly what Daddy told them. Bernie wasn't a guy who rewarded people for using their brains. Did you know that on the day he turned himself in one of the sons' wives filed divorce papers?" It had been the talk on the street all week.
Klein refilled his glass. He'd drink until there was no more. And as he drank he was thinking, Boy oh boy, Charlie, get your ass back in here. She's lonely, lonelier than she knows.
"OK. Tell me this," Klein said. "The wife, Ruth Madoff. Did she know?"
"Kleiny, please." Lena gave his arm a push. "The wife knows—even if she doesn't want to know."
This much Charlie heard. He'd gone upstairs to check on the kids, and come down to get more wine from the garage. He'd been standing in the doorway, behind Lena, long enough to catch the gist. What he heard made him sick at heart. For something indeed had changed: that morning Charlie received a call from someone who could save his faltering company—this man happened to be the one person in the world Lena loathed. Charlie hoped he could explain it to her. But somehow she knew. My god, she knew.
Lena, unaware that Charlie was behind her, kept talking, and in that way dealt with her nerves. She was telling Klein about a woman who got arrested for shoplifting that morning at Whole Foods. "It was terrible. Theo heard the whole thing. The woman, she wasn't young. Kleiny, here's the strange part: she was wearing a sable coat."
"Really? What'd she take?"
"It's not what."
"Oh no?"
"Yo, eshes!" Sandy called, rising from her chair. "Charlie, what are those two conspiring about now?"
"Thieves," replied Klein. "We're talking about thieves."
A sable coat wasn't something you'd expect to see, not even in January, and certainly not on a bright morning at the grocery store.
Motown blasted over the speakers; the aisles teemed with the holiday harried. Some economic downturn, thought Lena, hitching Willa higher in the sling so she was snug to her chest. Lena took Theo's hand firmly and, hoping to keep him jolly, pretended they were doing a Viennese waltz as she led him into the crush. But as they took a shortcut down the shampoo aisle, the woman in the coat blocked their way.
"Mama," Theo said, backing up.
"It's all right, Theo."
"Yes, little fellow, I won't bite," the woman said.
Something about her looked familiar. Lena guessed that her picture had been in the society pages. She had dyed yellow hair and white powdered skin and black kohl drawn under and above her pale eyes. She wore a large sapphire on her middle finger; her nails were frosted pink.
Unlucky, Lena decided, and she squeezed Theo's hand to keep him from asking one of the questions she knew wanted to bust out of him. Theo wasn't wrong to wonder. For despite all that glory, something about the woman signaled that she was past the good times. It wasn't her saggy coat or shoes exactly, and it wasn't the forced fact of wearing sable on a clear California morning; nor was it the bad dye job or the contrast she made to the young clerks stationed nearby—short, round girls with their nose piercings and tattoos. It was something else. On New Year's Eve all she had in her basket was a box of pasta, a jar of marinara sauce and a screw-top bottle of red wine. She was studying a jar of cream, no bigger than a large thimble; she held it between her thumb and index finger.
"It's called Pot O' Gold, and they want ninety dollars for it," she said, looking Lena square in the eye. "Can you imagine?"
Lena could. Even as she rolled her eyes, tsking, "It's a crime, such a crime"—she could easily believe that a pot of nothing cost ninety dollars, and that this woman was going to steal that jar. There are all kinds of thieves in the world, and one sort always knows the other.
From inside the sling Willa coughed, barky as a seal.
"Oh, that bark!" the woman cried. "It's a sound you never, ever forget. I remember with my middle boy." Lena could see now that she was older, in her seventies at least. "Dear, have you dealt with croup before?"
Nodding, Lena slid a protective palm under Willa's tiny rump and gave Theo's hand another reassuring squeeze.
"Ah, of course," the woman said. "Scares the heck out of you, doesn't it? With my boy, when it got really bad at night, we used to drive him around in the car with all the windows open. The wet air did the trick—calmed him down. Well, it's always something. Me, I've just got to quit being stunned by these prices. And you—Good luck, dears. Happy New Year, all that lala." The woman waved a jeweled hand as they pressed on.
It was a madhouse at the registers. The lines snaked into the produce aisles and doubled back. Lena and the kids took their place behind two Asian women, sisters no doubt, dressed in leggings and high boots and glossy ponytails that fell down their backs and swished their behinds. To kill time, they were perusing the magazine rack, snapping pages and commenting on the stars, as if they were their old friends. "Look, Madonna. Doesn't she look better since she left Guy?"
"Hmm. She has excellent skin."
"Botox up the yinny."
"And how."
Their chatter distracted Lena, and it wasn't until Theo gave a sharp pull on her hand and cried out, "Mama!" that she turned to see the commotion in the Express line.
A security guard had stopped the woman in the fur as she was leaving the store. He demanded that she empty her pockets. Moving ever so slowly, she complied. From the depths of one pocket, she produced a wallet, a bunched silk scarf. Keys.
"Now the other one," the guard said, opening his palm and wiggling his fingers.
Of course, by now everyone on line was watching—including Theo. Lena looked at her son. Theodore Pepper's mud-brown eyes were already a bit wild with dark imaginings. Now this. We should all be embarrassed, Lena thought, dread weighting her heart.
It wasn't the cream after all but a bottle of probiotics.
"Fifty-five bucks," declared one of the Chinese girls.
"It's a silly misunderstanding," the woman explained, her voice unnaturally high. "I put the bottle in my pocket, you see, so it wouldn't fall out of my basket. I had every intention of paying, of course." She lifted her chin and sniffed. But despite that little bit of anarchy, the face couldn't hold. It collapsed. With a world-weary sigh, she searched the crowd for help. "My husband. He needs them for his digestion. The doctor insists, and, well—"
She sighed—the husband, the doctor, all the trouble. "I don't know what else to say. Honestly, I don't. You are standing there looking very severe, my fellow. You have to know that I have been an excellent customer since you people first opened these doors." She seemed to be operating under the assumption that for everyone's sake this regrettable incident must be put behind them. She looked over her shoulder longingly, toward the parking lot.
The guard held out his palm and once again wiggled his fingers. The gesture was gross and she ignored it, her eyes fixed on the floor.
He dove that large hand into the silk-lined depths of her coat and took out a brick of Parmesan cheese. "Did you think this was gonna jump out of your basket, too?"
"Oh, god," Lena said.
"Well, I couldn't be more embarrassed, or feel more stupid," the woman replied, her shoulders rounding. "No, it's not possible. You have done your job, young man, no one can blame you for that. Oh, how stupid!"
But the guard didn't think she was stupid, and he whispered as much in her ear. Her face broke with a fresh horror. "No!" she cried, sagging visibly, as he gripped her elbow, lifting it unnaturally high, and led her, unsteady in her skinny cocktail heels, toward the back of the store.
"Come on," Lena said, feeling sick inside. She covered her mouth with her hand. Abandoning the cart, she marched them toward the door.
"But Mama—the groceries?"
"Leave them," she choked. There was nothing certain in Lena's life, not the bags of ice or the butter, not the credit card on which it would all be charged—not one thing certain, except the lump that was Willa, hung round her neck, and the hot, ardent squeeze of Theo's paw.
Lena managed to steer them across the parking lot, even as her heart boomed and her legs felt spongy. "You don't reduce people like that," she said. "You just don't."
When they reached the car, she turned to Theo. He was awfully short and she had no choice but to bend down. This involved a fair act of balancing, what with Willa in the sling and Lena sort of swoony, and Theo himself only a few feet high. Squatting like a sumo wrestler, cursing under her breath, Lena tried to take the worry from her face. There would be no salad at dinner, and without butter the crab would be bone-dry. "Theo, honey. What is it?"
He narrowed his eyes. And weighing his words just like Charlie, his lips moving as he set his thoughts neatly and precisely in a row, he said, "That lady. Are they going to put her in the dungeon?"
"Don't steal, Theo." Lena tugged on the bunchy hem of Theo's jacket.
"I won't," he said, pushing her shoulder lightly with his hand. There was something wiggly in Theo's stomach and his mother was ignoring it. "That lady. Are they gonna … I mean do you think she's bad? She's bad, right?"
Squinting hard, Lena tried to think. From the beginning she understood that she didn't own her children; at best, she hoped to be their worthy shepherd. Besides, Theo had come with his own urgency, an oddball directness, an urgency that had nothing to do with her. Here he was, eyeing her intently, proving that already he possessed all the faces he would ever use in this world—the lover, the worker, the goony bird and, my god, the judge.
"What do you think, Theo?"
"I think most grown-ups would say she's bad, but you might not."
Lena smiled. So true, so disarmingly true. She turned away to look across the parking lot. She would have to make it simple for him, to put his mind at ease. For one day soon Theo would know that his mother was also a thief.
Lena Rusch was a thief stealing time.
"Here, Theo. Give me your eyes."
While Lena and the kids drove home, an hour south of the city, in Mountain View, Lee Swanson padded down the corridor of Nimbus Surgical Devices to look in on the only other soul working that afternoon of New Year's Eve. Charlie was seated behind his desk, an unpainted door held up on one end by a sawhorse and the other by a chipped file cabinet. The cabinet was several inches shorter than the sawhorse, and so a book entitled Colonoscopic Procedures had been wedged underneath. With the next round of funding they'd get new furniture and Swanson, whose own setup was an L-shaped slab of Formica framed with two-by-fours, had a certain dream of maple burl.
"Hey, Chah-lee, you doin' any good?"
"I doubt it," Charlie admitted, the shock apparent on his face, for he thought he'd been alone. Lee Swanson was a house of a man: timber-boned, colossally footed, but he moved through the world in whiffles and whispers.
"Yeah, slow day," Swanson agreed. "Anyway, I ran the tests with the new cables. Friday, I'll have the boys jimmy the robot for the umpteenth time."
Charlie nodded. The robot: the instrument of their dreams, the beast that consumed their lives. Charlie wasn't thinking about the robot. He had a thornier problem to solve. It had to do with the two irreconcilables in his life: his desire to succeed and his desire to be good to his wife. But not wanting to hurt Swanson's feelings, he said, "All right."
Swanson took that as invitation and sat down.
They'd been best friends since college, when both landed scholarships at Harvard. Sinks, toilets and miles of copper pipe had raised Charlie Pepper, a plumber's son, to the land of guileless trees and isles of pachysandra; of summers cutting lawns and laps in the pool, slow days of mounting ambition, to Harvard. For Lee Swanson it had been South Boston meat. Both would have struggled that first year had the gods of Harvard not seen fit to put them together in a quad inside Wigglesworth with a view of the fabled Square and a brotherhood of unlikelies: Lee Swanson, Lou Papadopoulos, Josh Klein, Charlie. A Swede, a Greek, a Jew and a Pepper.
Behind them were raucous dinners at Grendel's Den followed by dancing to Little Feat and Earth, Wind & Fire with bright young ladies. There were Red Sox games, scores of them, and the pride that came from years of devotion to a hopeless cause. The Swede, the Greek, the Jew and the Pepper shared an unwavering loyalty, hilarity and an assumption of success. They were, after all, part of a generation of winners, and as such possessed a certainty, hardly imaginable now, that given their education, connections and ambition, they had every reason to expect that with a little luck and a whole lot of push, they would have everything.
Charlie had gone on to become a surgeon while Lee trained as a bio-mechanical engineer. By any measure, they'd done exceedingly well. Yet here they were, starting over again. They had a patent and a prototype for a surgical device whereby, using a robot on one end, fiber optic cables in the middle and a console of instruments at the other extreme, a boy with a harelip in Mbarara could be operated on by a surgeon in his office in New York. The potential, if they could get there, was tremendous. That had to be good, since neither man had slept in a year.
Now Charlie, deep in thought, was grinding his teeth. Swanson stretched his legs out in front of him and waited for his friend.
Their employees called Charlie "Papa": the old-fashioned great man—ye ole buffalo hunter. In an era when everyone came on too loud too much, saying in effect, Don't you know who I think I am? Charlie said nothing until he was right. People liked him, even his inferiors, and there were plenty of those, according to Swanson. But he was hard on himself, Charlie was. Already smart, accomplished—a surgeon, for chrissakes—now Charlie had to be brilliant and rich. That, and he had to save all the little children in the world, too.
"So, Chah-lee, there's like a couple of minutes left to kill in this for-shit year. You want to tell me what's up?" Swanson, whose Irish mother raised him a Catholic, made a church of his hands.
"Go away, Swan."
"I'm outta here," Swanson replied, digging his head deeper into the sofa. He removed a candy bar from his pocket, split it, and lobbed the larger half across the room. "Here, Cap. Lunch."
Charlie caught the bar and popped it into his mouth, hitting his back molars with a thock. Like spent dray horses, the two men chewed.
"Did you hear the latest with the banks?" Swanson said at last. "Citi, B of A, the whole can of worms. After the inauguration they're going to nationalize the bunch."
"Says who?"
"The pundits."
"Yeah. I don't buy it. Obama's got another plan. You'll see."
Swanson chuckled. "You think so, Charlie? You think while he's at it, Obama can part the seas, too?"
Charlie didn't answer. He seemed scarcely to hear Swanson. But, yes, Charlie believed. He believed with his whole soul that there must be someone, let it be Obama, smart enough, straight enough, wise enough to fix the current quagmire upending the nation. The thought of anything less made Charlie irritable. Moving swiftly, he marched to the window, opened it wide and let the cold air blast him. Swanson was the gizmo-maker, but perseverance, drive, clarity—these were Charlie's levers. As a surgeon, he lacked the magical hands of the plastic or neuro realms, but was hugely capable with the difficult and bloody jobs. Beginning each morning with the thought I can do better, from that happy challenge Charlie plunged. Women liked him because he listened. He hadn't thought about his soul in years. He was the kind of man you'd want married to your sister or bucking up your soldiers or guiding the mission to tramp uncharted land, should tramping be required. It was, true enough, but also required were timing, luck, verve.
"This morning I got a call from Cal Rusch," Charlie said at last. "Seems he's interested in being the lead investor on our next round. And I've been sitting here most of the morning trying to figure out a way to tell the twenty mil we sorely need to go to hell."
Whenever Swanson was confronted by phenomenon, whether a handsome woman or a gorgeous string of code, he blushed, from his strawberry blond curls down to his wrists. He blushed now. Cal Rusch was one of Silicon Valley's oldest and most savvy venture capitalists, common knowledge. He was also a famous curmudgeon.
"Jesus, Charlie, what the hell's your problem?"
"One word: Lena."
"Lena? Come on!"
Charlie nodded, the severe look on his face fading to sorrow as he went on to explain that Cal Rusch was Lena's uncle. Her estranged uncle. When Lena was a kid Cal Rusch invited her father to put some money in a deal. The deal tanked; Lena's family lost nearly everything. A year later Lena's father had a heart attack and died. Uncle Cal sent a wreath, not much more.
Charlie sighed. "Lena's mom and her sisters, they had a rough time. When it got real bad they had to show themselves at the uncle's castle and then maybe a few bucks trickled down—all of which Lena took as insult. When we moved back here Lena made me promise up and sideways he'd be the one source we wouldn't tap. I gave her my word."
"Sweet Marie," Swanson said to his hands, meaty as they were, folded primly in his lap.
"Right. And just to put the cherry on it, an old boyfriend of Lena's works with Rusch. Lena doesn't know he's there, but I do. I do. Christ, Lee, what kind of guy would I be, I mean, to put her through—Lena, you know she's—" Charlie waved his hand.
"She's every bit that," Swanson agreed, his crush on his best friend's wife hardly a secret. "Especially given, I mean, what you guys have been through this year."
The color drained from Charlie's face. Not for the world would he put another heartache in Lena's pocket. Not for the world.
He turned to the window. At the far end of the parking lot, a couple of runt apricot trees stood like tuning forks in the wind. They were all that remained of the abundant orchards that had filled the valley when Cupertino and Mountain View were farm towns. Today, the valley's cash crops grew indoors, in rows of nondescript office buildings such as this one, where folks like Charlie and Swanson worked feverishly, digging themselves in deep, which was why, in the end, Charlie would accept Cal Rusch's money, though he absolutely must not.
"You know, there are worse things than taking a bastard's money," Swanson mused. "Redemption. Vindication."
"Yeah. I thought of that."
"And what do you say is Uncle Cal's motive now? I mean, calling out of the blue and all."
"His motive? He said a friend at Stanford told him about our trial with that gallbladder in Des Moines. He said that his interest was pure business. But I suspect … I don't know, this type of guy—maybe he's after some peace in the later years."
"Ah, screw him."
"Yeah, but Swan—" The men exchanged a look that didn't require words. Two years ago they'd been stars; during lunch at Buck's they would eat their chicken California sandwiches as one by one the venture capitalists came over to the table to shake hands. But then, last summer, as they were preparing to raise their second round, the bottom fell out. The newspapers were calling it the Great Recession, but in real life it meant that the glad-handing VCs stopped returning Charlie's calls. By late autumn, funding in the Valley had all but ceased. Nimbus had a few months of capital left, and then the lights went out.
"You should have heard the old man," Charlie said. "Two minutes in and he's talking about the patent issues, bang; the software piece, bang—hell, what the other firms took months to see, he got at the first go." Charlie recalled the gravel in the old man's voice. It had been easy; Cal Rusch made it so.
"If he mentioned the other guys—"
"Oh, he mentioned Midas right off. He said he had a plan."
Swanson spread his hands like meat pies across the shelf of his wide-boned knees. "So. We going there, or is he coming to us?"
Charlie managed a smile. "Those trees out front," he said. "We might feed them. Give 'em a boost."
"Meantime you'll tell her."
"I imagine there will be a discussion."
"My advice, tell her quick, before she reads the thin film of your man-brain. Women can do that, don't I know." Swanson climbed wearily to his feet. "Buck up, Charlie. It'll turn out all right. That, or we're screwed." Swanson paused at the door. "OK, see you in a couple of hours. And, hey, in the spirit of things looking up, I bought a new jacket sure to impress the ladies."
"Oh, god."
"Yeah, well. Just wait. You heading out?"
An hour later Charlie locked the doors to Nimbus and walked to his car. It had been a year since he left the surgical faculty at Mass General—a year of push. And all that time he'd been gone—in Africa, Boston, or late nights at the office—while Lena managed everything solo. But tonight, they were throwing a dinner like normal folks. A new year, a new president: the papers were full of wild predictions and doom.
Charlie turned on the motor and reached for his phone. He would have to tell her—Sunday at the latest.
On the voice mail, Lena sounded younger and bright.
"Sweetheart," he said.
Meet the Author
Carol Edgarian is author of the novels Three Stages of Amazement and the best-selling Rise the Euphrates, winner of the ANC Freedom Award. Her articles and essays have appeared in many national magazines, and she co-edited the popular collection drawn from great writers' diaries, The Writer's Life: Intimate Thoughts on Work, Love, Inspiration, and Fame. She is co-founder, editor and publisher of the non-profit magazine Narrative (www.NarrativeMagazine.com) and Narrative in the Schools, a program to encourage reading and writing in schools across America. She lives in San Francisco with her husband, Tom Jenks, and their three daughters.
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I'm a huge fan of Carol Edgarian's work, and this book stopped me cold with its wisdom. Set at the end of the Bush era as the country and the economy have hit rock bottom, Three Stages of Amazement offers us a love story for our time. At its heart, is the marriage of Lena Rusch and Charlie Pepper, two fun-loving achievers who once believed that all it took to set the world on fire was a combination of smarts, determination, and love. But real life is far more complicated, and Edgarian's characters are far too real for easy answers. As they explore the far reaches of love, promises made and broken, and what really matters in life, these are characters you'll come to know so well, you'll miss them between readings -- if you can ever put the book down. So, what happens when good people do all the right things, and life still tosses them around? This is one you'll read more than once, and give to any friend who loves the feeling of going deep, and holding there.
I confess I have not read the entire book. I am struggling to get through it. I do not care enough about any of the characters. They all come across as whiny but not even in an interesting way. It is slow moving and I keep turning the page hoping something interesting will happen or some character flaw or character development will spark my interest but so far...no go.
I bought this novel on the basis of several newspaper reviews, and I was surprised to find that the book exceeded the most positive of reviews, which is not often the case for me, as I am a fairly demanding reader, a former public librarian and now high school English teacher. Edgarian's novel is a lively entertainment that runs deep in the heart and offers thoughtful reflections on what matters most in life. It's rare to find a book that is both serious and funny, lyric and dramatic. I am buying copies for friends and recommend this novel to anyone loves to read.
This story moves as on a greased track--suspenseful and fast. You cannot help feeling for the characters, the conflict is skillful and well-defined. It's a real page-turner. Edgarian's manipulation of language is fierce, glib, charged. I have only one problem with the book, and it's mine, not the author's. I come from a background (social and geographical) so different from from those in the book, I was often in a kind of intellectual Limbo--searching for the intent behind much of the dialogue. I could picture the setting because I have visited the area near San Francisco, but I had no frame of reference for the style of behaviors and the situations that were so important to how the central figures acted and reacted. Another admission: it might be in part a generation gap. This is dramatic and satisfying writing.
I couldn't sustain enough interest in this book. I struggled to get past the first hundred pages, finally giving up and tossing the book in my donation pile. Characters were shallow and the plot line plodded along.
I enjoyed this book very much--the characters were very real and I was able to identify with them in different ways. Loving someone so much and yet not knowing just how to show it, loving two people, in different ways and unable to fully let go. Trying to be everything to so many people can tear you apart. Definitely food for thought.


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Get ready for December with a few of our favorite sets of holiday activities . . .
Friday, November 23, 2012
Black Friday SALE
3 comments:
Your gingerbread activities look amazing! Hope you had a great Thanksgiving!ReplyDelete
Ѽ Lori
Teaching With Love and Laughter
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Would you like to save as your currency permanently or for this visit only?
Kind staff; clean room; access to the city center by foot in 10 to 15 minutes ok. Room rather small; I would classify this hotel not with 4 stars, but 3 stars.
Had the 4* VIP Apartment - very large room, nicely furnished, surely with enough space for 1 person. Food is of inconsistent qualoty, as they have different chefs every day.
The staff was really helpful and was always there when ever you required them.
The hotel is clean and functionally furnished. Nice restaurant and quality breakfast. Easy and quickly access to taxi services. The hotel depends upon the municipal water supply system, so that having a good shower is a matter of chance (low pressure).
Location, garden, bed, tv There was no hot water running and this is not acceptable at such a price. Low value for money (expensive)
very cosy and nice room,excellent bathroom,very nice restaurant outside with plants and nice chairs and tables no water for 20 hours,faulty aircondition(running water).the staff didn't know english,problem with the price we argued to get it,the staff argued in front of us intensivly
Has got style Too much noise (music) from the outdoors restaurant
The hotel has a fair price for the comfort it provides. Also the outdoor restaurant is fenomenal ; food is very good also and you have a big list to chose from some members of the staff behave in anunplesant way , but this is only my opinion
Everything was nice, unless the night of a wedding party.... because the restaurant was closed and we didn't try it.....
We have had a wonderfull couple of days here in a nicely renovated old mansion. Personnel was very friendly and we jus loved it.
The booking apparently had not been received by the Hotel resulting in a different room being allocated.
very good, and also the restaurant.They have also the menu-card in English.
I really appreciate the hotel a good place to stay in town WI-FI is free but with a short covarage (lobby and resturant)
Bright, nicely furnished rooms, most of them away from the street. Breakfast offer could improve (no milk, hence, no cereals); water outlets in the bathroom smelled.


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Monogrammed Men's Flat Fold Wallet
Flat fold wallet has 6 credit card pockets, 2 additional pockets, and 2 leather and striped moir lined currency compartments. Colors: black or coco brown. Dimensions (approximate): 4 1/2" x 3 1/2" closed.
Personalize your wallet with a variety of stylish monogram options. Have your name or initials debossed or foil stamped on the front bottom right. Select either gold or silver foil stamp. Enter name or initials exactly as you would like it to appear on your wallet. Maximum of 12 characters.
Note: Debossing means pressing letters into the leather creating a lowered area; color of letters will be same as leather color. Foil stamping applies letters to the leather's surface; choose gold or silver.
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The objective of this report is to help territorial and regional authorities to establish kerbside collections for household organic waste. Household organic waste can include kitchen waste and green waste.
Separating organic waste at the household level provides many benefits, including:
- recovery of a resource (organic material) from the waste stream
- provision of a steady supply of organics to composting facilities
- production of compost - and potentially energy from biogas
- diversion of organic material from landfill
- reduction of leachate and landfill gas emissions associated with having less organic material in landfills
- provision of an alternative for those who are unable to compost at home (eg, those who live in apartment blocks)
- achieving the organic waste targets set out in the New Zealand Waste Strategy (Ministry for the Environment, 2002).
The Auckland Organic Waste Working Group (AOWWG) [The AOWWG consists of representatives from the Auckland, North Shore, Manukau and Waitakere City Councils.] commissioned this report to form part of a suite of reports [The other reports are: URS New Zealand Limited, 2004a, 2004b; WasteNot Consulting, 2004.] that cover aspects of household organics kerbside collection, from separation at source through to composting technologies and market issues. The reports cover food-waste composting technologies, food-waste market issues, and a comparison of the "disintegrability" of plastic bags in VCU® (vertical composting unit) processing.
1.1 Scope and objectives
The scope of this document is to assess organic waste kerbside collection methods - both systems already implemented and those undertaken on a trial basis - and to identify matters for territorial authorities to consider before implementing a collection of this nature. The main objectives of this report are to:
- discuss key issues and gaps that need to be taken into consideration for collection systems in New Zealand
- summarise kerbside food-waste collections in New Zealand, in terms of the results and issues encountered
- summarise any overseas work that may be relevant to New Zealand
- present a methodology for assessing and comparing various kerbside organic waste-collection systems.
Note: the following are not within the scope of this paper:
- a cost-benefit analysis of various kerbside organic waste collection systems
- assessment and/or details of food-waste composting technologies
- information on developing markets for food-waste compost.
1.2 Structure
The next section discusses the factors to consider when selecting kerbside organic waste collection systems. It covers the merits and drawbacks of various kerbside collection systems based on the case studies that are reported in depth in the appendices. In particular, section 2 includes a discussion of types of organic waste, options for kerbside organic waste collection systems, frequency of collection, monitoring and trialling of collections, householder education, and market issues. Section 3 presents a methodology for assessing and comparing various kerbside organic waste-collection systems, and section 4 provides the conclusions of this report.


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At Papa's Dodge, we strive to provide our customers with the finest car-shopping, car buying, car-owning and car-leasing experience possible. Our Hartford Dodge dealer has the best selection of new Dodge vehicles in CT. Our unparalleled customer service and prices have put us at the top. We guarantee you'll find the new Dodge you desire.
Call our Sales Department at 860-225-8751 for more information on how to start financing your brand new Dodge with us today!
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Our highly experienced and knowledgeable sales associates will do anything they can to put you at ease while you search our inventory for the right Dodge. Every sales associate is passionate about their work, and willing to patiently listen to your automotive desires, and supply only honest suggestions and information when discussing your driving needs.
Here we allow customers the option to own or lease the new Dodge of their choice. We are committed to all stages of the leasing process. As a lessee, you may have questions regarding vehicle turn-in, the condition of the vehicle at lease-end, or something else, your Hartford Dodge dealer is are to assist you every step of the way.
Copyright © 2017 PCG Digital Marketing - www.pcgdigitalmarketing.com - Car Dealer Digital Marketing


text:
LEASE EVENT: Tim Burton's The Nightmare Before Christmas Live with Danny Elfman
Last Modified:
Part of Lease Events
PRE SHOW: 6:30pm
SHOW: 8:00pm
Park & Ride, shuttles, and parking gates are based on the pre-show time.
Gates will open at 5:30pm.
Danny Elfman
John Mauceri, conductor
About This Performance
This concert is a LEASE EVENT and has different policies than LA Phil-produced events. Click here for information on all Lease Event policies.
Costumes will be permitted for these concerts; however, costumes that impact the view or comfort of other patrons due to their size will not be permitted. In addition, no weapons of any kind (fake or otherwise) will be permitted. Please plan accordingly.
Programs, artists, dates, prices and availability subject to change.


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This one is to be avoided!
This was a lackluster way for the series to go out.
I won't say it was a completely boring read, there were a few creative moments, but it barely maintained my interest and was a complete non-event as far as any sort of send off for the series.
The art is flat and uninspired and looks rushed for the most part.
Which makes sense considering that there are 2 sub-par artists on the book, but it makes me wonder:
Why did Marvel even put this last story arc out?
It serves no purpose what so ever, other than to introduce a character I doubt we'll ever see again.
Avoid this book unless you just want something to make fun of...


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Welcome to the Stock of the Day.
The latest quarterly numbers have been announced from Netflix (NFLX) and shares were sent soaring in after-market trading. The stock has had a buy rating by my Portfolio Grader rating service for some time now. Will this report change that? Find out now.
Company Profile
Since 1997, Netflix Inc. has been a leading provider of on-demand internet streaming and DVD-by-mail services. Over the past few years, the company has worked double-time to increase its subscriber base, launching in Canada (2010), Latin America and the Caribbean (2011), the United Kingdom, Ireland and Scandinavia (2012), and most recently, the Netherlands (2013). And the company has had great success with its new crop of original programming, and collaborating with cable television companies to become a fixture on television screens as well as computer screens.
Earnings Buzz
To put is simply, Netflix crushed earnings. The headline number was that the company added 2.3 million U.S. customers and domestic growth is what analyst and investors were looking for—sending shares 17% higher.
Earnings came in at $48 million for the quarter, or 79 cents per share, compared with $8 million, or just 13 cents a year ago. Expectations were for 65 cents per share and that represents a 21% surprise. Revenues were up 24% coming in at $1.17 billion and also beating estimates.
Competition Breakdown
Netflix is a unique company—there isn't another company that is quite like it. But there are plenty of other players that eat into this company's market share, including Amazon (AMZN), which offers video streaming services at a pay-per-view basis.
But when you go to plug the two competitors into Portfolio Grader, you see that Netflix is still top dog with institutional investors and in terms of fundamental growth, so it outranks AMZN overall. As I'll discuss shortly, Netflix pulls off top marks in nearly every single fundamental metric I graded it on.
Meanwhile Amazon is an entirely different story. Therefore, AMZN is a hold at best given it's current growth path.
Current Ratings
Before you buy any stock, you should always run it through my free Portfolio Grader ratings system. As I just mentioned, NFLX is currently enjoying stronger institutional buying pressure than the competition. This is important because it indicates stronger profit potential for shareholders.
Meanwhile, 2013 has proven to be a pivotal year for Netflix as it has turned around several of its fundamental metrics. Netflix currently receives strong ratings for operating margin growth, earnings growth, earnings momentum, analyst earnings revisions, and cash flow (all A-rated) and solid marks for sales growth and its track record of earnings surprises (both B-rated).
The one area that NFLX could stand to firm up is return on equity (D-rated), but the company still receives a A-rating for its Fundamental Grade.
Bottom Line: As of this posting I consider NFLX an B-rated Buy. There is a lot of excitement around this company and investors are willing to reward shares for positive earnings results.
Would you like to check the fundamentals backing up one of your stocks? For more stock grades, please visit my Portfolio Grader website!


text: During Marilyn Monroe's first trip to London to film The Prince and the Showgirl with Sir Laurence Olivier, she befriends Colin Clark, the 23-year-old Third Assistant Director on the set. As their relationship progresses, Colin's focus shifts from making his way in the film business to rescuing her from the pressures of celebrity life. When Monroe's new husband makes a brief trip to Paris, Clark takes the opportunity to introduce her to the world outside of Hollywood fame.


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In honor of Library Card Month in September, the Stewart C. Meyer Library is hosting Library Day at the Market Heights Barnes and Noble from 10 a.m. to 4 p.m. Saturday.
The library will offer a variety of programs and sign up individuals wanting free library cards. A valid photo ID and documentation of current home address are required.
The Friends of the Library will also hold a fundraiser where a portion of proceeds will go to Friends of the Library. Shoppers just need to mention that they want to support the library at checkout.
"We feel this event shows our community's commitment for literacy and we have amazing support from our city, residents and local business," said Lisa Youngblood, library director. "Also, being at Barnes and Nobles shows that libraries are a cool place to hangout and we get to show people who are not familiar with us what we have to offer, like that we offer ebooks and story times."


text: Well, Costa was graded out as the 2nd worse center in the league, while Holland did grade out as an average guard so the landslide is actually at center. Plus, we did draft 2 guards just last year, while at center we have 2 undrafted guys. Now whether or not Killer takes the center spot is something we don't know, but with Nagy we might need him at guard depending on how free agency and the draft work out this year. I figure we will probably pick up some short term vet to fill the center spot, but we do need a long term answer to develop also and if DeCastro has that versatility then it does help his cause.


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The site also has information for planning mission trips to Venezuela, including the cost for airfare and bus rides.
"He has the groups cover the airfare and a one-night hotel room," she says.
He should save himself the airfare and get himself photographed eating a knish.
According to Moore, Booker would have been paid $30,000 for the event, "inclusive of airfare and ground transportation costs."
After all, they had paid $3,000 apiece, with the help of their parents, for airfare, visas, and job arrangements.
Hirni also footed the bill for hotel rooms, airfare, a $400 steak dinner, souvenirs, and a $600 strip-club visit.
A luxurious all-inclusive resort with airfare for three nights sets travelers back around $1,300.
Conway refers to the other important factors as the "three 'A's": air conditioning, assimilation, and airfare.


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Best Old House Neighborhoods 2012: The South
The Quapaw Quarter, Little Rock, Arkansas
Named for the Native Americans who inhabited this place centuries ago, the 9-square-mile Quapaw Quarter incorporates all of downtown Little Rock, as well as several adjacent neighborhoods. Here, among the flowering pear trees and majestic Oaks, stand the city's oldest, most elegant homes—including the Arkansas Governor's Mansion, where Bill Clinton and Mike Huckabee hung their hats, and an 1881 Second Empire you might well recognize as the headquarters for Sugarbaker Designs in the sitcom Designing Women (recently renovated into an event space). Comprising 15 National Historic Districts, the Quarter also boasts dozens of southern-style restaurants, Irish pubs, the sprawling 36-acre MacArthur Park—the oldest municipal park in Little Rock—and the Clinton Presidential Library.
The Houses
The Quarter features an impressive selection of Queen Anne, Colonial Revival, American Foursquare, and Craftsman houses, some lovingly restored, others in dire need of some Tom Silva-like skills. Most were built between 1880 and 1930, when Little Rock experienced its most substantial building boom, and range in size from about 1,500 to 5,000 square feet. Prices run from $150,000, to $500,000.
Why Buy Here?
Anyone looking for a more laid-back lifestyle that includes more strolling than driving would be wise to check out the Quarter. There are also community gardens, farmer's markets, museums, theaters, and hospitals, all within walking distance. Most restoration work in the National Historic Districts is eligible for state rehabilitation tax credits.
Among the best for: The South, Cottages and Bungalows, City Living, Walkability, Parks and Recreation, American Heritage, Family Friendly. Lots to Do, Retirees


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Atlanta Braves starting pitcher Tommy Hanson returned to the field Sunday after last he was in a one-car accident last Monday.
Hanson, who has been out with a mild concussion after he blew out a tire on the way to Spring Training, did some light throwing at Champion Stadium while supervised by the Braves' training staff, reports foxsports.com.
"Everything is going good," Fredi Gonzalez said. "He feels good. He's getting there."
Hanson is expected to return to full workouts on Tuesday.Tags: Atlanta, Atlanta Braves, MLB, Tommy Hanson


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Christianity Today reported that they were recently contacted by a reporter asking if they had any comment about a proposed ABC television show titled Good Christian Bitches. According to CT the proposed show has been deemed the Christian-bashing version of Desperate Housewives. And thus begins the full frontal assault on all things Christian. There are [Read More…]
May 9, 2011 by 35 Comments
Beauty: God's creative artistic nature
January 26, 2011 by 16 Comments
There was a rainbow stretching across the Columbia River on Friday. It looked like hand-blown glass bridging the shores of Oregon with those of Washington. It was really beautiful. My daughters are beautiful. No. I mean, really beautiful. They aren't beautiful in the way of the Kardashian girls. My girls have all their original body parts. They [Read More…]


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Dior Chiffre Rouge A06 Automatic
"Dior's new A06 is just for you. The watch features the same stealthy steel and black rubber casing, a 42 hour power reserve, Super-Luminova minute and hour hands, 50m water resistance, and a Red-tinted mineral case back. [$2,395]'
Explosive style.Tags: fashion, style, leather, Cool Hunting, watches, clocks, time, time pieces, wrist watchAdded 9 Years Ago from Acquiremag
Keeps you time-pieces safe and fuzzy..Tags: luggage, leather goods, time pieces, Fossil watchesAdded 10 Years Ago from Acquiremag
simple and yet stylish watch from.... who else, NixonTags: watches, time pieces, fossil NFL watches, nixon sentryAdded 10 Years Ago from Acquiremag
"The Fox Hound, sports a brown leather strap, mineral crystal face, second hand subdial, a sleek matte stainless steel case in a gold finish, and a red crown to top it all off." [acquiremag]Tags: watches, time pieces, quicksilver fox houndAdded 10 Years Ago from Acquiremag


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Society of Professional Journalists
The JMC Department shone at the 2011 Mark of Excellence Awards, presented in March 2012 at the Region 8 spring conference of the Society of Professional Journalists, representing four-year universities throughout Texas and Oklahoma.
Texas Intercollegiate Press Association
ACU students won 46 awards at the 2012 annual convention of the Texas Intercollegiate Press Association, March 2012 in Corpus Christi, Texas.
American Advertising Federation (ADDY Awards)
ACU students, faculty and staff won 53 awards at the 2012 Abilene ADDYs in February, presented by the local chapter of the American Advertising Federation. Nine of those entries went on to win District ADDYs, including two Student Gold District ADDYs by James Utley and Aaron Cavit, who will advance to the National Student ADDY Competition.


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We partner with quality brands to bring you the best experience possible. From healthy cafes & sports retailers to fitness studios & detox programs, there is something for everyone to enjoy staying healthy for less.
Browse our growing network of over 100 healthy brands.
Visit any of our partner locations.
Present the Noviplus App and save between 15% to 25% instantly!
Noviplus helps to ensure that living healthy & choosing well is always accessible to you.


text:
Just announced: The Victoria's Secret Fashion Show returns to CBS this year. The show, which usually takes place in November, will air on Dec. 4 at 10 p.m. ET.
More: Backstage at Victoria's Secret Fashion Show
This year's fashion show will be held in New York City with angels including Miranda Kerr, Alessandra Ambrosio, Adriana Lima, Doutzen Kroes, Candice Swanepoel, Erin Heatherton, Lily Aldridge, Lindsay Ellingson and more.
The lingerie runway extravaganza will also include musical performances (no names announced yet), pink carpet interviews, model profiles and a behind-the-scenes look at the making of the famous fashion show.
Sign up for Lifeline Live e-mail alerts


text:
- Departments
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2013 Recap
Thank you to all who attended the 2013 Reunion and Alumni Week.
Medical Discovery at HMS: Transplantation and Organ Regeneration
Dedicated to Joseph E. Murray, MD '43, in recognition of his contributions to Harvard Medical School, medicine, and humanity
Moderated by William W. Chin, MD '72, executive dean for research and Bertarelli Professor of Translational Medical Science at Harvard Medical School, panelists included Terry Strom, MD, professor of medicine at HMS; Joseph P. Vacanti, MD, John Homans Professor of Surgery at HMS; A. Benedict Cosimi, MD, Claude E. Welch Distinguished Professor of Surgery at HMS; and Bohdan Pomahac, MD, associate professor of surgery at HMS.
- Read more about this symposium here
Medical Education in the Era of Health Care Reform
Moderated by George E. Thibault, MD '69, president of the Josiah Macy, Jr. Foundation, panelists included Steve Weinberger, MD '73, executive vice president and chief executive officer of the American College of Physicians; Eric B. Larson, MD '73, vice president for research at Group Health and professor of medicine and health services at the University of Washington; and Malcolm Cox, MD '70, chief academic affiliations officer for the U.S. Department of Veterans Affairs.
- Read more about this symposium here
Med Talks '88: Ideas Worth Sharing
Four panels over a full day, moderated by Jeff Ecker, MD '88, professor of obstetrics, gynecology, and reproductive biology, Harvard Medical School, celebrated the accomplishments of the 25th Reunion Class, as graduates spoke about their work and its impact.
Panel 1: New Pathways in Academics and Education
Tony Monaco, MD '88, president of Tufts University; Jody Heymann, MD '88, dean of the Fielding School of Public Health at the University of California, Los Angeles, founding director of the World Policy Analysis Center; Andrea Reid, MD '88, physician in the gastroenterology, hepatology, and nutrition Section and program director of gastroenterology training, Washington, D.C. VA Medical Center;
Panel 2: Taking a Medical Education Down Different Paths
Claire McCarthy, MD '88, pediatrician and medical communications editor at Boston Children's Hospital, assistant professor of pediatrics at Harvard Medical School, and senior editor at Harvard Health Publications; Henry Chueh, MD '88, chief of the Division of Biomedical Informatics, director of the Laboratory of Computer Science at Massachusetts General Hospital; Sam Wong, MD '88, orchestra conductor in New York, London, Tokyo, and Hong Kong and ophthalmologist in private practice, and maestro of the 1988 Second Year Show
Panel 3: Research and Investigation - Different Ways to Push Boundaries
Jonathan Epstein, MD '88, William Wikoff Smith Professor and chair of the Department of Cell and Developmental Biology, scientific director of the Penn Cardiovascular Institute at the University of Pennsylvania's Perelman School of Medicine; Judy Chiao, MD '88, vice president of clinical development and regulatory affairs at Cyclacel Pharmaceuticals, Inc.; Stephen Blacklow, MD '88, Gustavus Adolphus Pfeiffer Professor and chair of the Department of Biological Chemistry and Molecular Pharmacology at Harvard Medical School
Panel 4: Adventures Near and Far
Paul Farmer, MD '90, PhD '90, Kolokotrones University Professor and chair of Department of Global Health and Social Medicine at Harvard Medical School; Phill Key, MD '88, doctor at Billings Clinic; Caren Solomon, MD '88, deputy editor of the New England Journal of Medicine and associate professor of medicine at Harvard Medical School; Tamara R. Fountain, MD '88, professor at Rush University Medical Center's Division of Ophthalmic Plastic and Reconstructive Surgery.
2013 Reunion
Photo Gallery
If you couldn't make it back to the Quad, or if you just want to relive the fun, event photographers were there to capture all the special moments. View our Flickr gallery here »
Annual Meeting
Watch the 2013 Annual Business Meeting of the Harvard Medical Alumni Association here »
Thank you to the alumni who stretched their regular giving, or give for the first time, to present a class gift that will make a substantial impact on HMS and its students.


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Bylsma again molds injury-plagued Penguins into winners
Dan Bylsma and his staff are doing it again.
The Penguins have been victims of their annual unprecedented bad luck, playing the first half of the season without an abundance of stars because of injuries and other reasons.
But the Penguins again sit atop their division and lead the Eastern Conference.
How do they do it?
"I think this is a very good organization in every possible facet," right wing Craig Adams said. "I think the scouts and everyone else have done a really good job of getting the right people. And, obviously, we have a very good coaching staff."
Bylsma is clearly at his best when the Penguins aren't their healthiest.
He won the Jack Adams Award in 2011 following a season that saw the Penguins produce 108 points — the second-highest total in team history — despite playing the second half of the campaign without superstars Sidney Crosby and Evgeni Malkin.
With the stars out, the Penguins altered their style as Bylsma willed them to win with grit and determination.
"We aren't as skilled as usual right now with the people we've had out of the lineup," defenseman Matt Niskanen said. "But this coaching staff just has a way of getting guys to play so hard.
"We're making up for the lack of skill right now with pure battle level. I think everyone is getting the job done right now, and that's a credit to the coaches and the organization."
Crosby has remained in the lineup through the recent absences, but so many regulars in the lineup haven't been so lucky. Evgeni Malkin, Kris Letang, James Neal, Brooks Orpik, Paul Martin, Rob Scuderi, Beau Bennett, Tanner Glass, Deryk Engelland and Chuck Kobasew have missed significant time.
It's gotten so bad for the Penguins that even some of their call-ups from the AHL — Jayson Megna and Andrew Ebbett — have suffered serious injuries in recent weeks.
And yet the Penguins have carried on, winning 12 of their previous 14 games to remain comfortably ahead of the pack in the Metropolitan Division. Winning the President's Trophy, which is awarded to the team with the most regular-season points, seems possible if they ever get healthy.
Even with all the injuries, Bylsma and his staff are producing a winner.
"I think the coaching here is just so good," said forward Zach Sill, who is one of the replacement players from the AHL who has done a steady job.
"We are always prepared to play. That's a credit to the coaches in Pittsburgh, and it's also a credit to what's going on in Wilkes-Barre. This organization is just filled with people who know what they're doing."
Bylsma doesn't seem surprised by his team's recent play.
He believes in his system and in the organization's talent pool. Those players apparently believe in him, too.
"You might not think it's a high probability to win this often with these people out of the lineup," Bylsma said. "But we've got guys who are going out there and doing the right things and doing them well. We haven't sounded off any fire alarms because Malkin and our top four defensemen are out of the lineup."
There haven't been fire alarms. But the red light has been lit enough to keep the Penguins right where they want to be, no matter who occupies the uniforms.
"It's pretty cool to be a part of this," Sill said. "It's just a good hockey team."
Josh Yohe is a staff writer for Trib Total Media. Reach him at firstname.lastname@example.com or via Twitter @JoshYohe_Trib.


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Would you like to save as your currency permanently or for this visit only?
Although getting to Hunnap Han was dificult, driving off the main road was like going back in time....Steping into the entry was heaven for us. Though not for someone with disabiities. The proprietor was a delight and very helpful. The remote control for the air conditioner was hard to to figure out. If there had been a set of instructions in several different languages it would have been helpful. Ditto for the wine list. On the same note a few books in English would have been pleasant as well. A pot of coffee available for early birds would have been very welcome.
Quiet and off beaten track + character
A very relaxing atmosphere (esp in the gardens) and in a beautiful location. Good home cooking and friendly,attentive and knowledgeable staff. Rooms very clean and comfortable.
The best hotel out of our complete vacation! Privacy score 10. Special food score 10. 10 is excellent. The bathroom shower is way too small for me.
We loved our stay at the Hunnap Han. We visited as a family of four - two bedrooms. Both were lovely and private. The atmosphere at Hunnan and Adatepe was wonderful. We'd go back in a flash. Wonderful courtyard. Tasty and nutricious food. None whatsoever
very good meals, great pool beside the Mediterranean, TV not very good
I staid at the hotel only one night , I liked it even if i didn't have the time to enjoy it because we arrived late in the night .
location was very good, a beautiful garden, it is by the beach, comfortable


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Non-compliance Works: Statistics are Proving Our Point
We can neuter the feds simply by refusing to join them on the playground.
There is a lot of talk these days about how liberty yields to "security" and how government has grown in size and power with the "War on Terror." But in reality, this national security state has existed as a permanent installation since the Cold War. And its not just foreign wars driving the militarized state. The decades long War on Drugs has contributed as much, if not more.
But here is some good news: recently released data on the "Drug War" indicates so-called security may, in fact, be yielding to liberty!
"Decreased availability of local law enforcement personnel to assist in eradication efforts" is one of the primary concerns for the unconstitutional Drug Enforcement Administration. Federal statistics showed a drop of 60 percent in the amount of marijuana destroyed. In 2009, over 10 million plants were seized, but in 2012 that number fell below four million.
Buried in this statistic, we see the power and potential of state nullification. With 19 states authorizing medical marijuana, and Washington and Colorado legalizing weed for recreational use, we see the carpet slipping out from under the feds. Each time a state takes control of its own marijuana policy, it has less incentive to cooperate with the feds in eradicating weed. That leaves the DEA to operate on its own. And it simply can't do it. The feds lack the funding and manpower to control marijuana in all 50 states against the will of the people.
And the will of the people has turned against the war on marijuana. A Pew Research poll shows 59 percent of Democrats and 57 percent of Republicans think the feds should back off enforcing federal drug laws in states with legalized marijuana. The lack of public will translates to a lack of political will. With states facing tight budgets, officials simply won't waste resources helping the feds enforce unconstitutional and unpopular acts. In California and other states, the funds simply aren't there to lend support to the feds. Even if people don't embrace, or even understand, the principles of nullification, the effect is the same: the federal "laws" become unenforceable.Details


text:
Sorry, I demand you to excuse me for the poverty of my questions, but Shakespear's Language is not my native language, Moliere's language is ...
You'll have to be a little more specific about your question
Actually, in Enterprise we have a project about PKP Harvester, we'll have to harvest metadatas of Aquitaine's Holdings in France.
So I have two questions to ask you about columns of Harvester's Database (eg. PostgreSQL)
1°) Which table containts metadatas' updates (eg. If i have insert a metadata the 2009-07-04, in which table can I look this?)
2°) In which table can i look for the repository added or present with their URL?
An another and last question ... I confirm you ...
3°) How to start up Harvester with a shell command Unix, it seems cron command can make this, but how?
Thanks for your advices.
And excuse me again.


text: You are here:HomeNews & EventsNews20125Inchnadamph News New Granite Block for Remote Burial Site 29 May 2012 The Commonwealth War Graves Commission is to place a granite block, weighing half a ton. on one of the most remote war graves in the United Kingdom. Six airmen are buried on Ben More in the Western Highlands - so far from any human habitation that even the Commission's supervisor in Scotland, Iain Anderson, had never been there before. Iain walked the five miles uphill from the hamlet of Inchnadamph, north of Ullapool, with David Whalley, a mountaineer and guide, to inspect the grave site where the airmen died when their Avro Anson crashed in April 1941. Iain said: "I wouldn't have found it easy to get there without David. It really is miles from anywhere. You need to be a good map reader to find the site because it's easy to miss. And the weather can change very quickly in the Highlands so you need to know what you are doing." The remoteness of the grave explains why the six airmen have what the Commission calls an alternative commemoration. In 1941 it was decided to bury them at the crash site, but the Commission could not guarantee to commemorate them there. Apart from on foot, the only realistic way to the site is by helicopter. The Commission's pledge is that all the fallen of the two World Wars will be commemorated in perpetuity. When it is not possible to guarantee the commemoration at the grave, an alternative commemoration is arranged. In this case a plaque has been placed in the churchyard at Inchnadamph. At the crash site the grave is marked by a cairn, and the Commission is concerned to preserve the integrity of the grave, so it has been agreed that a granite stone - weighing six hundred kilograms - will be inscribed and placed over the airmen's last resting place. The issue is getting the stone up the hill. A number of options are being considered but the Commission's UK Director, Barry Murphy, was clear that it would happen. "We are ordering the stone," he said. "It's just a matter of how and when we get it up there."


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June 2008 · Volume 90 · Number 5
Personal Liability and the Public Manager: Guarding Against the Lawsuit with Your Name on It*
Do you subscribe to the theory that the terms "individual liability" and "local government manager" are never used in the same sentence?
Congress Gives Retirement Plan Fee Disclosure a Closer Look
Every employer is concerned about choosing the right retirement plan provider for the employee retirement plan. But there should be no question about the amount of disclosure on fees and expenses that is provided to employers and participants. Several legislative proposals are on the table.
A 30,000-Foot View: Visioning Sets the Way*
The best way for a community to face change is to manage it through the use of visioning.
On Hiring Generation Y
Lane Bailey, Lenoir, North Carolina
Image Busters
13 Steps for a Smoother Transition to Performance-Based Pay
*Premium content available only to ICMA members.
Learn about the benefits of joining ICMA.