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Note: This beautiful birth story by Sierra Black is a reprint from June 1, 2004 on ChildWild.
I am a mother!
Rio Willow Hunter Black was born at 4:10 p.m. EST on May 24, 2004.
She weighed 9lbs 4 oz, and has a thick head of dark brown hair and dark blue eyes.
Though we did have to transport to hospital to birth her, Mom, baby and Dad are all in perfect health and happily settled at home now. Martin caught her as she was born, and laid her on my belly, and she hasn't been out of my sight for longer than the duration of a shower since.
Here is the (long) story of our labor and birth:
The Birth of a River
For Rio Willow, born May 24, 2004
My waters broke with the storm, pouring down my bare legs as I made my way down a dark corridor. Small puddles marked my passage to the bathroom; at first, waking from restless sleep with the intense need to pee, I thought my bladder had simply let go before I reached my destination. Back in bed, I lay for a few moments watching the night sky dance with lightning, excited, not ready to hope I was finally going to meet my baby.
Then I woke Martin.
"I think I might have peed on myself," I whispered. "But I might not have."
We examined the puddles together. While we were examining, a fresh stream of fluid bubbled out and soaked a small circle in our bed.
"OK," I said, "I'm awake now. We're trying to decide whether or not this is pee. Under these circumstances, I really think I would know if I were peeing."
We stared into each other's excited eyes. It was Time to Call the Midwife, according to the little form I'd been given. It was also 4 a.m., and she'd told me that when I went into labor, I'd call her, and she'd tell me to have a snack and get some sleep. So I skipped calling her. Martin brought up a snack of the delicious bread pudding I'd just learned how to make the day before, and we ate it in bed.
The bread pudding. I'd made it Friday night, right before we went to see the park where we were thinking of getting handfasted this summer. We'd walked in one of my favorite tame wildernesses, visited with my mother, and enjoyed a wonderful Indian dinner before coming home early and deciding to go right to bed. We often decide to go right to bed and then stay up half the night fussing, but this time we really did. We cuddled, shared massage, and went to sleep wrapped up tight together, his arms and knees supporting my hips and belly. In the morning, we woke and played together for awhile. Eventually we made love and collapsed back into a gentle sleep, waking again a few hours later for a breakfast of bread pudding in bed. We'd never eaten in bed before, and we both talked about how special it was. Now, with my waters opening like the sky, we repeated the little ritual of eating in bed, before folding into each other's arms to try to sleep.
Martin drifted into rest, but I lay awake through the small hours, watching the sky gradually lighten and quivering waking dreams of meeting our child.
When morning had struck, I called the midwife, who suggested I eat and take a nap. My labor pains had not begun, but my body was getting ready for them; small changes like backache and diarrhea. We had Epic Breakfast and a long wonderful nap. We spent the afternoon setting up the birth space with all the tools we'd carefully assembled for our birth. We never did get the birth pool put up, but we made our bed, and moved the altar for Yemaya to sit beside it. We hung the long strip of sarong fabric Martin uses to carry his drum in actions over an exposed beam, by the bed, and placed my nursing rocker in the room.
The midwife came by around 4 to check in, and I was beginning to have little waves of discomfort that would later become contractions. My mother came by around the same time. The midwife went home and Martin and I lay down to have a nap together in the sacred space we'd created.
When we woke, we called the circle. As we invoked each quarter, a strong, good contraction would fold my body into a pose of gratitude. There are, as Rumi writes, thousands of ways to kneel and kiss the ground, and in this casting, I explored them. How to invoke the waters of her living womb, as we do in the west, with amniotic fluid running down my legs? How to call in the tears of the god with my partner standing behind me, weeping with joy, at the threshold of fatherhood? The water came on its own.
Yemaya had carried me through the pregnancy – it was her voice I heard in dreams telling me first that I would have a child, and then giving me her name. When we thought we might lose her, bleeding early in the pregnancy, it was Yemaya who held me, and told me how to hold my daughter so she could stay with me. I'd built an altar to her then, that I tended through the pregnancy, and I wanted to sing her into our circle now.
It is Elegba who carries mortal prayers to Yemaya, I was taught, and Martin called out to him with his drum; Elegba the ferryman, to aid us in our crossing. A dangerous invocation; both of us aware that Elegba will ferry one across the river but not disclose the fare until it is too late to turn back.
We called him and felt his presence, awful and deep, come into the room. I remembered the few times I'd met him before – he'd always frightened me, and he did now, but one can't simply pick and choose what gods to invoke and avoid the scary ones – it was Elegba and Yemaya who were called to carry us through the birth, and we welcomed them.
Yemaya came again with a storm, thunder cracking around the house. My own mother appeared in the doorway then, calling us downstairs. She braided my hair, her fingers running gently through it. We talked and laughed in the kitchen. We'd started a sourdough loaf the night before, and decided now we may as well make the bread.
As my contractions grew stronger, I would pause in our project and lay my arms down on the counter. My mother would lay her face opposite mine, and gently guide my breathing with her own. She showed me how to move my hands in rhythm with the breathing, so I could use my fingers, opening and closing gently like flowers waking to the sun, as a guide for my breath when the sensation was strongest.
Around 9 we called the midwives. They came just as the bread dough was finished, and I was beginning to move between the worlds, away from the world of language and ego, into a mystery. The experience I've had that most resembled labor was using hallucingens in ritual – a sense at first of wondering when the drug will take effect, then slowly realizing that everything has shifted, and you've cast off from the shores of normal awareness. A long slow hazy ride beyond that, in which each moment is vibrant and memorable, but often disconnected from the ones around it. A stretch of time escaped from the bonds of narrative on which our waking lives are lived. Like a drug trip too, there were things happening that I wouldn't have found pleasant under normal circumstances, but in my altered and euphoric reality, they were simply what was, and it wouldn't have occurred to me to try to stop them from unfolding.
It was full dark now. I was having such a good time. I remember asking the midwife why no one had told me labor would be so much fun. The contractions were strong, even painful now. Under other circumstances, I think I would have been upset at being so uncomfortable, but my child was coming and I felt myself filled up with light, buoyed by the waters within me and those raging around the house.
We played for awhile, cuddling and laughing while the house filled up with people. Downstairs, I could hear laughter and music, while up in our labor room, I ate a bowl of fruit and cottage cheese, sang songs of love to the baby and my body, which was working pretty hard now, and played with my mother and my partner. His older son came in and played with us for a bit – we bounced the birthing ball around the room, and Martin sat on it and pretended it was him having contractions.
Eventually, th
e midwife and my mother both asked me to lay down, so we turned the lights out and Martin and I climbed into bed together. He'd taken a long break during the early part, and I was telling him how, now that things were more intense for me, I wanted him to stay with me.
"I will," he said. "I'm going to be right here with you. I won't leave you."
"If he needs to leave to go to the bathroom or get a snack," the midwife told me, "I'll remind you where he's gone. I know it can be hard to remember."
That was it exactly. When he left the room, I couldn't remember where he'd gone, and it felt as if he'd passed out of my world.
Feeling safe now and held by both of them, I curled in my lover's arms and faded in and out of a light sleep. Between contractions, we just lay there loving each other, and when one came, he'd hold me and breathe with me. I began to chant and moan through them, and he would lay beside me, striking deep notes with his beautiful voice for me to follow downward, away from the sharp squeals of pain I'd begun to let out and into the deep, low sounds of power that would help me birth my baby.
I described one contraction as 'good', and then found myself craving an album called Good, by the band Morphine. I asked the midwife to go find the portable CD player and the album of Cds, so I could listen to it.
"Gods, what will the home birth community say, me bringing you Morphine during your labor," she joked.
Every contraction, Martin stayed right with me. As they got more intense, I was more and more uncomfortable trying to lie down comfortably. I spent a lot of time on my knees, chest pressed to the bed. When I'd begin to wander too far into pain, the midwife would call me back.
"Slow and open, Sierra," she would say softly. "Slow and open."
She'd moved the nursing rocker slightly into the center of the room, where we'd stood to invoked center earlier in the day. She sat there, head tipped back and hands out to her sides, her own infant sleeping fast on her lap, anchoring the room.
After some time on the bed, I got up to use the bathroom – it took much longer than I'd imagined it would to climb the half-flight of stairs out of the labor room and walk down the hall. Once there, I was overwhelmed with the most forceful contraction yet. Sitting on the toilet felt as if I might break open.
Coming back into the room, I walked for a bit, then announced that I might like to vomit. Someone brought me a bowl and I fell to me knees, shaking through a massive contraction while simultaneously vomiting and peeing on the floor. When it was over, I stood up laughing, and announced that while that was probably a braver moment than the playful breadmaking downstairs, I was glad no one had taken a picture of it.
A hard moment then: the midwives did an exam and found that my "brave moment" had indeed been a gate. I had crossed from early labor to active labor; I was four centimeters dilated. Knowing that ten is the magic number, I felt disheartened. I'd worked so hard already, I'd been sure I was really moving along, and now I was being told that I was just at the beginning. On average, the midwife said, I had another 24 hours of this to go. For a moment, I didn't know if I could do it. I felt like I could cry if my body wasn't so engrossed in the work of labor.
"This is the worst part," the midwife assured me. "Later, you'll have more pain, but you'll also have more endorphins, and you'll see that you're really progressing somewhere. This shift into active labor just sucks."
I couldn't have agreed more. The thunderstorms came roaring back, lighting up the room and lending me strength. The contractions were different then, stronger and more rhythmic. Martin and I curled on the bed together. Occasionally, we'd make that long journey to the bathroom, where I'd do "toilet magic", choosing to sit on the toilet for as long as it took to pee, a few seconds really, knowing that would set off an intense contraction.
The night wore on with the storm. When things got tough, I'd take a shower. At one point, my growling moans brought my mother up, and she began breathing with me again. Martin told me later I'd cried out for her in the midst of a contraction.
A friend said she'd never found a good description of a contraction. I can't offer one. They happen one at a time. Inside one, the experience is total, and totally overwhelming. As soon as its passed, the memory of the pain passes with it. The sensation is beyond words, but not traumatizing. The pain, for me, didn't matter once it was over. The answer to, "How mnay of these can I do?" was always, "As many as it takes to bring the baby out."Between contractions I felt tired, playful, euphoric, fine.
My labor progressed well with the night. Around dawn, another exam brought another small setback. My cervix was almost entirely dilated, but I'd developed a small lip. To encourage the rest of the dilation to go smoothly, the midwife insisted I labor on my back. The prospect was awful; I'd been talking all night about ho w unbelievably painful lying on my back even for the duration of a cervical exam was. Pregnant women are often uncomfortable on their backs throughout pregnancy – it hadn't bothered me until the last weeks of mine, but now it was as if the cumulative effect of all the discomfort I'd been spared came crashing down – one contraction on my back was like an hour of work on my knees.
A deal was struck: I had to labor on my back, but I could do it in the bathtub.
The tub was magical – not because it offered me particular relief during the contractions, but because between them it relaxed me deeply, and both Martin and I were able to sleep, me lying on my back in the warm water and him sitting beside it on the bathroom floor, holding my hand.
It also worked – within an hour of being in the tub, the midwives did another exam and announced that I was nine centimeters all around. I'd gone through another gate in the labor, with the same combination of intense contraction and everything coming out of both ends at once. I was through the initial active labor and into transition: the short, intensely painful period of labor right before the pushing stage that brings the baby out. The contractions were unbelievably intense; Martin had to use his back brace to support me during them, but they came less often, giving my body a bit more rest between.
Elated to think we were near the birth, I went back into the tub and slept again. I woke with a sudden, excruciating contraction, throwing half the water out of the tub and screaming to tear my throat out. For the first tine, the pain didn't feel "right". One of the midwives came running.
"Are you feeling pushy?" she asked.
"I don't know. It feels like I have to poop, but I don't."
"That's pushing. That's great. We just want to do one more exam, and check your dilation. If you're fully dilated, then you can push and we'll see the baby soon!"
I hated the idea of getting out of the tub, but we went down and did the last exam.
I wasn't fully dilated. Instead, my cervix had gone from nine to six centimeters, and the baby's head, which had been low and engaged in my pelvis for weeks, had pulled back up, floating away from the cervix. The fancy word for this was that the cervix was not "well-applied", and what it meant was that, no matter how overhwleming the urge was, I couldn't push. Doing so could be disastrous for me and the baby. At best, it would cause the cervix to swell, at worst I could tear it and hemmorage.
"We can try a few things here," the midwife said. "We could do ice,
which would help a swelling cervix, but yours isn't really swollen, yet. We could try to manually dilate it, but without the baby's head pushing against it, there's no guarantee it won't retract again. Or we can go to the hospital. They'll give you medication to loosen your cervix and another to push, and you should be able to have the baby no problem."
Here it was, then. The price of crossing the river, the thing I wasn't sure I was prepared to pay. My whole pregnancy, I'd been dreading the prospect of a hospital transfer. My mother had labored at home with me, and had to transfer after three agonizing days, when she was so exhausted and dehydrated. The story of her labor and birth loomed over my prenatal care – I was determined not to repeat her frightening experience. And here I was, healthy, well-hydrated, rested, ready to push my baby out, and facing the prospect of climbing in a car and leaving my safe, beautiful ritual space for the cold world of a hospital. Not only to go to the hospital, but to go there for the express purpose of being given the heavy drugs I'd shuddered at the mention of throughout my childbirth class. I remembered scoffing at the film we'd seen about having an epidural in awareness. The idea was to prepare expectant moms for the possibility that an epidural might be "necessary". I'd thought the idea of necessary anesthesia was a convenient fiction to make women feel like less of a failure if they decided to expose their baby to powerful, potentially dangerous narcotics rather than experience the pain of labor themselves. Now I was facing the choice between taking the medical route and a relatively low-risk of complications brought on by overzealous hospital staff, and staying home, where I would almost certainly injure myself and my baby. Women had, I'd repeatedly said, been laboring without the help of modern medicine for millennia. They'd also been dying in the process, from exactly the kind of complications I now faced.
I didn't really think I might die; we were too near emergency medical care for a hemmorhage to kill me. I did think I might tear my cervix, and even in the midst of the most intense physical pain I'd ever experienced, the prospect that I might damage my body such that I couldn't do this again was enough to get me off the bed I lay writhing in.
"What do you think is best for the baby?" I asked my partner and the midwife.
"I think," she said, "that we're going to wrap up the magic of our home birth and take it with us to the hospital."
It was, at the moment I needed to do it, the easiest decision I have ever made. Elegba had his fare. To cross into motherhood, I would cross a literal river, the Merrimack, and birth at the hospital the next town over from my home.
The next hour was also, physically, the hardest I have lived through. With each contraction, every muscle in my body, every swirling energy of my being, tightened around the baby. I could feel the baby trying to push herself out, and everything in me but my tired, frightened Talking Self working as hard as it could to help her. With each contraction, the midwife stood beside me and told me to blow up as if there was a feather on my head I was trying to blow away. It was the most intensely painful thing I have ever done, compounded by an overwhelming sense of how wrong it was to be holding up what must come down and out. In the midst of each horrible contraction, I'd break into tears of fear and pain, sobbing, "She's pushing! It's all pushing! I can't stop it!"
"That's Ok," the midwife would tell me. "It's all pushing, but you're not helping. Just blow."
At one point, she reminded me of the joyful song I'd been singing in early labor.
"Remember, your body is a living temple of love," she said cheerily.
"Fuck you," I snapped.
"OK, you can fuck me, but right now you have to blow."
I got so dehydrated from blowing that the pain in my throat around breathing began to rival my contractions. I sat awkwardly in the back seat, of Martin's car, holding my knees very tight to contract my pelvis when all I wanted was to be opening the gate for my baby to emerge. Between contractions, I made up silly songs pleading with them to slow down, to take a break from labor and come back when we reached the hospital. The singing seemed to reach my body, because they did space out further.
Finally, we reached the hospital. They pushed me in a wheelchair to the labor ward, and I remember a horrified woman, maybe a few months pregnant herself, turning pale and letting us ahead of her in line for the elevator.
Upstairs they brought us to a labor room which was pretty nice by hospital standards, with a large window near the bed. A doctor came almost immediately to examine me, and there was a lot of commotion about who was in the room, who the midwives were, what had happened so far in my labor. We'd agreed in the car to tell them my waters had broken at 4 am, and not to volunteer a date, but to lie if necessary and say it had been four am this day – five hours earlier, as opposed to thirty. If they'd known how long my waters had been broken, they might have taken me immediately into cesaerean prep, and we wanted to avoid an unnecessary surgery.
My mother had missed this conversation, and began telling someone how long I'd been in labor when I sat bolt upright, in the midst of the worst pain I'd ever felt, and lied to the doctor. I'm normally a terrible liar, and martin told me later he knew I'd be alright if I was together enough to maintain the fiction about when my waters broke.
I liked the OB, though later the midwives told me he was a jerk outside my room. Perhaps my standards for this sort of thing are pretty low, but he talked directly to me, instead of through my partner or mother, and left me with at least the appearance of options. After he'd heard from the midwives and done his initial exam, he sat down and said, "I'd like to make a plan with you," and gave me his recommendations, which were exactly what the midwives had described when we decided to transfer – they'd give me an epidural to slow my labor and relax my cervix, and check again in a few hours. If all went as planned, I'd be able to deliver the baby without any further intervention. The doctor, however, started on about what a big baby this was, and advised me that I needed to consider the possibility of a casaerean because I might be too small to push her out. I found the idea laughable. My body grew this baby, and I knew I had the power to give birth to her. Laughable and terrifying, because while I knew I was capable of birthing her, I didn't know if I was capable of winning a fight with the hospital staff about it.
"Can we call it a caesaerean delivery?" I asked after he mentioned it as a "section".
"Sure," he said warmly, "We can call it a casaerean birth if you want. Let's all hope we don't have to go there."
I didn't really care about the vocabulary we chose to talk about a surgical procedure I desparately hoped to avoid, just like I didn't really care about wearing my pretty green labor dress instead of the hospital Johnny they offered me. I was still wearing it as a badge that I intended to cooperate as little as possible with anything beyond the minimal necessary intervention with my birth. That I had, as we'd decided at home, wrapped up our magic and brought it with me. The birthing woman statue from Yemaya's altar sat on the instrument panel beside the bed.
The anesthesiologist came. His name was Dr. Katz, and he was wearing a silly hat with cats all over it. Though I'd been desperate for him to arrive, I fought with him about whether or not my tongue stud was coming out. It was, it turned
out, a silly misunderstanding – he asked how hard it would be to take out and I said it would be impossible, because I would lose the piercing and I knew he could give me a local anesthetic for my hips without needing to remove jewelry from my mouth. He was really trying to determine how easy it would be for someone else to remove later, if I fainted or needed emergency care that did require removing it. Eventually we got sorted, and somewhat warily the epidural process began.
The first step was like a scene from a Flying Circus sketch – the room was already crowded with my family, my midwives, the nurses, the obstetrician and the anesthesiologist, when suddenly a crowd of people showed upa nd announced they were moving furniture. They rushed everyone out of the room so fast that a few people ended up getting shoved into the bathroom, then they carried every piece of furniture that wasn't physically attached to me out of the room and came in with another dozen pieces of medical equipment and chairs. In reality, they were bringing the anesthesiologist's equipment in, but to me it seemed like an utterly random intrusion, a comically ill-timed visit from the hospital housekeeping staff who'd decided now was the moment to update the furnishings.
When the circus died down, we began. I have never been able to hold still for anything. The one time in my life my mother ever hit me was because I kept wiggling while she braided my hair for some special occasion,. In fourth grade I won an award for my inability to talk without waving my hands around. We'd often joked, I my family, that I couldn't hold still to save my life.
Now, that joke was put to the test. The anesthesiologist had explained to me that, for reasons too complicated for my pain-soaked brain to grasp, I was not a good candidate for an epidural, and it was essential therefore that this wbat he called, "the perfect epidural". No room for error as he inserted the needles into my spine. This was, I reminded myself, what was necessary for the baby to be born. I had to sit up, supported in the arms of a kind stranger, the delivery nurse who stayed by my bedside. The anesthesiologist leaned me over her, into an incredibly awkward position folding forward over my pregnant belly. It hurt just to sit like that. I couldn't even breathe, I needed to hold so still. He began, driving the needles into my back. I'd heard this would hurt, and it did. Not the same intensity of pain as a contraction, but not the same quality either. It wasn't a "good pain", as my midwife liked to describe labor pains. It was a sharp piercing pain in a part of my body that had never felt such a pain before. One of the incredible pushing contractions struck me. I held still. His pager went off, and he stopped what he was doing to answer it and discuss something totally unrelated. Twice. I weathered another contraction. He came back to what he was doing, finally coating my entire back with a sticky plastic tape that irritated my skin. I sat perfectly still for another minute, until he came back and told me I could move.
If I was going to do it once in my life, this was the occasion. As before, the answer to what I could bear to bring the baby out remained, "Whatever it takes."
After that, it almost didn't feel like I was in labor. The epidural completely numbed my body, to the point where I couldn't feel my legs. I could still feel my cervix, and I could tell when I needed to urinate, but I tried not to let on right away for fear they'd give me another dose I didn't need.
They'd given me a shot of morphine, and used it in the epidural as well. My midwife indirectly brought me morphine during my labor after all. What would the home birth folks say?!
My head began to swim, and my vision lapsed into hallucinations. I saw four of the midwife swimming like a kaleidoscope ahead of me. Word associations drifted around me; I theorized about the impact of little rubber flowers on my labor. I slept. When I woke, the doctor came back and gave me the news everyone wanted to hear. I was fully dilated, and the baby's head had descended down through my cervix. I could push her out when I was ready!
The anesthesiologist came back and lowered the painkiller, not quite as much as I asked him to but more, I learned later, than he would normally have done. I hated feeling dissociated from the sensation of my labor. Everything was so orchestrated, I joked with my mother, I felt as if I almost didn't need to be there. As the pain meds withdrew, it got to the point where I could feel a pressure, as if far away, in the middle of my lower body. I had use of one leg back. The other one had overdosed somehow, and would take most of a day to recover. The nurses brought me a squat bar to hitch up over the bed – I wanted to try to get up on my hands and knees to push, but with only one leg I realized this would be impossible. They rigged a sheet over it instead, that I used to pull on while I was pushing.
The pushing was incredible, even with the sedation. I'd feel a contraction start to tighten inside, and I'd take a deep breath and push down, holding my breath until the midwives said to let it out. One of them stood on each side of me, and I saw my mother and Martin right beside me as well. There were a lot of other people in the room, and they were all helping me, holding onto my legs and telling me what a good job I was doing and reminding me when to take a deep breath and when to let it out. It felt a little strange to be coached through the pushing, but it made up for the lack of intense sensation guiding me that I'd had earlier in the labor.
I'd had them bring a mirror so I could see Rio being born, since I couldn't feel much and I didn't want to miss the experience. First my whole bottom area began to swell outward, then my cunt opened up like a flower and this spiraling mess of wet black hair appeared inside. I reached down and felt the top of her head with my fingers, then reached back and pushed again. When she was about to be born, there was a big commotion to go get the doctor, who seemed totally unnecessary to the process. He arrived, from my perspective, too late to do anything one way or the other – he jostled my mirror out of whack so I couldn't see what I was doing, and then sat on his hands watching while I birthed my baby. As her head emerged, he helped her shoulders out, then moved out of the way and Martin reached down and pulled her body out of my body and laid her on my chest. She didn't cry as she was born, she just made these gently singing gurgle sounds, and then coughed up a lot of mucus. Someone draped a blanket over her wet body, and Martin leaned over both of us, singing a birth song to her. I could only see the top of her head and her tiny, crinkly ears, all wrinkled in like pickle chips and not ear shaped at all. She was the most beautiful slimy pickle-eared baby I'd ever imagined. We all three held each other and sang for what seemed like all the time we needed, a long priceless moment where no one knew if Rio was a boy or a girl, or what number of pounds and ounces or what name should go on the birth certificate. There was just me and Martin and the baby we'd brought into the world together. Ours were the only hands who had ever touched her, and for a few seconds ours were the only voices she heard. As we lay there together, the storm raged outside. I'd been so deep in my body I hadn't noticed till now Yemaya's rain still thundering around us.
She was born 36 hours to the minute after my waters first broke.
The hospital staff were of course eager to do things to her, and I, realizing I was about to faint, passed her up to my mother, checking her sex as I did so. It seemed like a silly thing to do at the time, but everyone in the room was asking, and I wanted to be the first to know.
From here, there was a constant low-grade struggle with the nurses. No, we don̵
7;t want to vaccinate our newborn daughter against a rare sexually transmitted disease that she could not possibly have been exposed to, her mother having been vaccinated years ago. Yes, we'll sign a waiver. Please don't put drops in her eyes. We'll sign another waiver. You don't need to test her hearing; she's afraid of the thunder, she can obviously hear. She doesn't need a bath. You can check her vitals on my lap. You can take her out of this room over my dead body. Yes, behind the curtain counts as too far away; bring the equipment over here. By mid evening, when the shift changed, word seemed to have gotten round that we were a bit odd – they sent us The Most Progressive Nurse In The Hospital, who helped me arrange the pillows in my hospital bed so the baby and I could sleep comfortably together, and bathed her in warm water with no soap under Martin's supervision.
That night, while I slipped in and out of exhausted, drug-tinged sleep, Martin sat on the side of my hospital bed, watching over me and our baby, holding her to my sleeping breast and pressing the nipple into her mouth when she cried, so she could nurse without waking me. Every time I opened my eyes, he was there, looking down at me with a loving smile, holding our daughter close to my chest. He'd been up for close to 50 hours, but he seemed animated by quiet joy. Only in the morning, after a pediatrician had come by and pronounced our little girl "perfect" did he allow himself to fall into an exhausted sleep in the chair beside my bed. When I asked him about it later, he simply said, "Well, it needed to be done."
We stayed in the hospital two days without further incident. They gave us some very good advice about breastfeeding, a lot of menstrual pads, and twenty-four hour room service. We could have gone home the morning after she was born, but Martin was so exhausted, I didn't want to make him responsible for doing all the things for me that the nurses were doing. By the second day it was clear we'd made the right choice. My body had recovered so quickly that in twenty-four hours I'd gone from needing two nurses to help me walk to the bathroom to being able to get up, shower and dress on my own, and sit up in a rocker nursing my baby.
In the fifteen minutes before we left for home, a shift change brought us the Least Progressive Nurse In The Hospital. When she wanted to take Rio away to do some simple vitals check on her, I asked her to wait till she was done nursing and she snapped, "She'll nurse twenty-four hours a day if you let her." I just looked at her and very calmly said, "No, she won't. She's more than 24 hours old, and she hasn't been nursing the whole time."
Before we could leave, she had to score what Martin called The Goal of Glory – a soccer term for when a team is losing fantastically, say 13 to nothing, and they are desparate to score that one goal before the game ends. The hospital's Goal of Glory was around Rio's car seat. Before we left the house, I remember in the midst of my pain worrying that we didn't have a car seat yet, and how would we get her home. Some friends in Florida had sent us one, and it hadn't arrived yet. Of course, UPS dropped it off on our porch the afternoon she was born. When we were ready to go home, Martin went back home to get it. We told the nurses we intended to have him drop by the local police department and have a traffic safety officer install it, and they said that sounded great. Now, the Evil Nurse insisted he bring the car seat up to the maternity ward and strap the baby into it before we could leave our hospital room. Then, she said, she would push me and Rio out in a wheelchair. I was not allowed to walk.
They fought about it for some time – the car seat is not one of these little newborn baskets, it's a real car seat, meant to go in the car and stay there for several years. Good for babies five to sixty-five pounds, according to the label. Martin insisted, rightly, that he had spent an hour installing the car seat, and that the baby would be safer if we simply brought her downstairs and put her in it. He invited the nurse to supervise that activity if she want to be sure we strapped the baby in correctly. No, she said, once we leave, we're out of their care, and they can't be responsible for how the seat fits in the car. They just need to be sure, on the maternity ward, that the baby has a car seat and we've strapped her in correctly.
So he brought her seat up. It was a major project. He put it on the bed, and she hovered over us while we strapped Rio in. Then I went to take her back out so we could go down to the car, and the nurse said, Oh no, the baby has to go down to the car in the seat. We both looked at her like she was nuts, and then Martin got angry. I don't think I'd ever seen him really angry at someone before. I'm not sure the nurse realized how angry he was, but I wondered, briefly, if he was going to hit her with the car seat. He informed her, again correctly, that her idea was completely unsafe, and he wasn't going to carry his daughter down a flight of stairs and out a long corridor strapped into an unwieldy seat he couldn't manage well. Finally, she agreed to wheel the baby out in the wheelchair, still strapped into the car seat, while both Martin and I walked.
It was a long walk for me, and at one point I thought I might faint again, but I refused to sit down because I was very eager to get away from this bitch. When we got to the car, contrary to her earlier claim that we were no longer her responsibility and she couldn't help us re-install the seat, she now tried to insist that we put the car seat in the car with the baby still strapped to it. Martin had told her several times this would be impossible, because the seat needed to be disassembled slightly right where the baby was sitting to fit the seat belt strap through and secure it. At this point the Evil Nurse became slightly hysterical, and tried to convince him to strap the seat into the car through another whole in the plastic casing with a large red warning label on it saying that it was never to be used to secure the car seat, and would not hold the seat in place. She'd rather see us put the seat in incorrectly, and risk our babies life, than allow us to take her out of the seat and win the argument we'd been having for the last twenty minutes. I thanked her sternly for her attention, informed her we were no longer patients of the hospital, and assured her we could handle things from here. She retreated angrily, we got the baby safely in the car, and at last returned home.
The first night at home was a hard transition. We finally had the privacy we'd been longing for, but the house was full of echoes of the labor; mountains of laundry, stacks of dirty dishes, furniture in disarray from our hurried departure. We spent an awkward night, getting up even more often than the baby, restless in our big cozy bed.
The next day was a flurry of unexpected activity – again. Martin had to go into work for an emergency, and we couldn't find anyone we knew to stay with me. Finally one of the midwives' husbands came over and sat with me for a few hours, doing laundry and making me lunch. It was an awesome gift.
It was only when we'd had a full day at home together, and put much of the house, not back in order but into a new order, discovering what we needed close at hand for the baby and what we really weren't using at all, that we began to feel more settled. At the end of our second day home, we went into the labor room, where the energy of the labor still swirled strong. I sat down in the nursing rocker at the center with Rio. Martin pulled the footstool up beside me with his drum, and together, the three of us closed our circle.
Rio is a week old as I write this. She's sleeping soundly in a sling on her father's chest. They're
sitting on the porch with his older son, talking quietly together. Every once in awhile, Rio squeaks in her sleep. I've never seen him so grounded and so happy. I'm sitting inside writing, watching the oven for her birthday cake to come out. I've become a mother, and the transition has been full of grace and joy and a deep sense of Right Action. There's a surety and power in me now that I remember from childhood, but mature. After the birth, Martin asked me is I was amazed what I could do. No, I finally said, I couldn't be surprised because I hadn't gone into it thinking I had any limits. Now it seems, I know that I don't.
Writing this is the first time I've been separated from her body for more than a few minutes since she was born. In this whole week, there was probably a total of twenty minutes when she was not being held by someone who loves her, and even then, she was being held by nurses.
There's so much of her first week I want to capture and save that just slips away from me: the funny little snuffles she made when she was first laid on my belly; the way she smells like a new tiny person flower, a smell that she brought into the universe with her and that no one smelled before. The pattern of lanugo whisping over her face and back, the little tufts on her ears. The way she rhythmically opened and closed her eyes when she first saw the world, like a new butterfly testing its wings. The perfecct roundness of her newborn face, like a tiny moon goddess. When she wants to eat, she roots around on my chest and makes a snorting noise like a little pig. She squeaks all the time; we call her the Queen of Squeak. Her favorite thing to do is lie curled against my chest or Martin's listening to our heartbeats. Her second night, as she lay sleeping on Martin's chest, he was snoring gently and she was doing her little newborn snuffle. Then she stopped, and after about twenty seconds, she started snoring in exactly the rhythm of her dad's breathing. She'd just taught herself to snore. She's already learning and changing so much. I know I could never catch and capture every detail. "This too shall pass" is the blessing and curse of time.
Sierra Black is a blogger, writer and mother. Her personal essays have appeared in Mothering Magazine, the New York Times and Babble. Sierra writes primarily about parenting, personal finance and green living. When she's not chasing deadlines or toddlers, Sierra spends her time gardening, crafting and finding new non-toxic ways to get crayon off the walls. Before she answered to Mommy, Sierra was a features reporter for the Eagle-Tribune newspaper. Check out her personal blog, ChildWild.


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Have you ever found yourself asking the questions: What is the right life for me? What is the right job, the right partner? What is the right decision to make?
The inquiry of what is right is always something many strive to live in daily life. However, the decisions we make are in response to the challenges that happen to us in life. This inquiry is the start into the study of the Four Points of Rightness. It is not about what is right and wrong and neither is it about imposing a new morality. This is an inquiry about rightness for itself, learning to be in a state in which rightness is present rather than the state where you are seeking the right way to deal with what happens to us day-to-day.
Four Points of Rightness is a guide on how you can re-establish rightness with yourself and another, as well as with everyone. In this two-day workshop, a facilitator will guide you through how to apply the Four Points in your life.
october, 2020
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subset: commoncrawl


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Women's Lacrosse Upset by Colby
April 11, 2018
The women's lacrosse team squared off with Nescac rival Colby on Saturday, April 7, on its home turf at Kohn Field. In a hard-fought battle, No. 15 Colby thwarted two Middlebury comeback attempts to defeat the No. 9 Panthers 14–12, handing them their first conference loss and knocking them out of first place in the standings.
Going into the contest on Saturday, the Panthers knew they were in for a battle, even though the Mules entered with a 1–4 Nescac mark. All four of Colby's losses came by two goals or fewer.
The Panthers also knew Colby like the back of their hands after playing them three times last season. In 2017, they fell to the Mules in the regular season 9–6. Then, during the Nescac semifinals, they got another opportunity to topple the Mules. But they were unable to finish off any of their fast breaks past the Colby defense in a 10–9 loss.
These hard losses taught the Panthers some valuable lessons, and in the second round of the NCAA tournament, they sought revenge and ended the Mules' season when Jenna McNicholas '19 knocked in the game-winning goal in the final seconds to seal a 10–9 victory for the Panthers.
With these fresh memories in their minds, the Panthers and the Mules took the field on Saturday. And in the first 15 minutes of action, Colby proved they were much better than their record indicated, jumping out to a 4–0 lead before Middlebury even had a chance to blink.
Erin Nicholas '21 got Middlebury on the scoreboard by hammering in a pass from MG Gately '20. Her goal marked a momentum shift for the Panthers, as teammates Henley Hall '19 and Kate Zecca '20 followed her lead, slapping two more shots home.
With Middlebury inching its way back to a tie score, Colby increased its advantage to two when Kendall Smith scored on a free-position shot. Emily Barnard '20 took the two-goal lead away when she found an opening and narrowed the score to 5–4. Both teams added an additional goal to their totals in the last two minutes of the first half, and Colby led 6–5 at the halfway point.
The hosts started the second period of play in a promising way. Barnard recorded her second goal of the day within seconds of the first whistle to knot the score. Despite mounting pressure in a tied conference game, the Mules passed through the usually impermeable Middlebury defense and knocked a shot past the Panther goalie a few minutes later. They continued to score four more unanswered goals to build the largest lead of Saturday's game. Behind by five, Middlebury took a timeout.
"We knew that we were much better than the way that we were playing so we took a few timeouts to collect ourselves," said Erin Nicholas '21 afterwards. "We knew the deficit should not have been what it was.
The Panthers put their heads down and got to work, scoring six of the next seven goals. Kirsten Murphy '21's goal with 3:44 remaining tied the game at 12.
"We picked up our energy and our level of play, and built off each other's momentum," added Nicholas. "Once we got one goal, the others came a lot easier. It got more and more exciting with each goal. The home field advantage helped a lot with fans and family and playing on our home turf was definitely more comfortable."
The crowd at Kohn Field came alive as the Panthers fought back into the game. Both teams had multiple opportunities, but it was Colby who capitalized on two of their quick breaks and found the back of the Middlebury net twice to earn a 14–12 victory.
The loss dropped Middlebury to 5–1 in the Nescac and 9–2 overall. Barring results from last night's late games, the Panthers are in fourth place in the conference standings, behind No. 6 Tufts and No. 4 Amherst with Tufts standing alone at the top. Colby moved into a tie with Hamilton for seventh place in the standings, as both teams sit at 2–4.
Saturday's game demonstrated just how much parity and competition there is in the Nescac this season.
"The conference is so competitive in the way that any team could win on any given day," said Zecca. "Unfortunately, Saturday was not our day."
Saturday's game is just that, though — one game — and the Panthers know there is still a lot of season left.
"We know that we are the better team," added Zecca. "It just comes down to putting our beliefs into action. We hope to see Colby again in the postseason so that we get another chance to prove our talent, drive, and desire to win. We don't need to change our play to beat Colby. We just need to come out strong and play our game."
One positive from Saturday's game was the return of goalie Kate Furber '19 from an injury that sidelined her for the first 10 games of the season. Furber started 24 games in her first two seasons in the blue-and-white and returned on Saturday to relieve Julia Keith '20. Keith has started all 11 games this season and played admirably in Furber's absence, with 65 saves for the Nescac's top defense.
Middlebury's situation at goalie is not unlike anywhere else on the field — full of depth and ready to withstand any injury that may occur.
"Losing any member of our team, whether they start or not, is always going to have a large impact on our team," said Zecca. "Furber has worked tirelessly to recover as quickly as possible, but her support and encouragement this past season [have] impacted our game just as much as if she were healthy and playing. One of the most powerful things about our team this year is our depth. Any member of the team can step up and perform when needed, just as Keith, and many other players, have demonstrated so far."
Despite the hard loss, the team hold their heads up high as they remember what happened the previous year after a harsh reminder of their vulnerability. The team is excited to hopefully face the Mules again in the Nescac tournament. Next up, the Panthers take on No. 8 Trinity on Kohn Field this Saturday, April 14, at 2 p.m., in another important conference matchup against head coach Kate Livesay '03's former team with the opportunity to leapfrog the Bantams in the standings.
More importantly, the game will provide another tough test for Middlebury, who needs to continue to improve after having some vulnerabilities exposed last Saturday.


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About Us
- About Us
Telecom Square is the company that launched the first Wi-Fi router rental services in Taiwan.
We have contributed in spreading Wi-Fi routers through our consigners.
Since 2012, we have established overseas affiliated companies and expanded our business that allows our customers to enjoy a safer, more secured and more convenient travel revolving around collaboration with major businesses and airport counters.
Airport Counters and Shops
Telecom Square has 8 airport counters in Taiwan. Its professional staffs await for you.
It provides smooth services that other competitors could not do such as previous day reservations, same day as your flight applications, and return box.
Call Center
We provide 24/7 multilingual support in cooperation with call centers in Taiwan, Japan and the Philippines.
In 2015, the Taipei call center will expand itself three times its size and will also do business on weekends. It has achieved the highest response rate.
Product Quality Center
We intensively perform maintenance of our many products to be used by you at our several operation centers.
Product maintenance know-hows from Telecom Square, which has been devoted to its rental business for 25 years, are put to the best of use.
Management and Administration Department
Telecom Square's objective is not to achieve just superficial "bargain feeling", but to achieve "true satisfaction from customers".
Centered on mobile devices, globalization and Internet, we want to sincerely evolve continuously as a unique international company specializing on mobile while creating new values from now on.
Social activities
We make contributions to various areas of social activities such as education, culture and sports in order for our Wi-Fi router services and the Wi-Ho! brand to spread across Taiwan.


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At the beginning of October, almost a million federal employees were furloughed after the U.S. government shut down because it failed to ratify its annual budget. Should the government fail to raise the debt ceiling and therefore default on its loans, that issue will be exacerbated when the debt ceiling deadline arrives.
Failing to raise the debt ceiling will just add to America's economic woes and put a major dent in the global economy while also undermining America's credibility on the world stage. While some think a short-term default on the debt ceiling will not cause a major ripple, history is not on their side.
In 1979, the U.S. breached the debt ceiling on about $122 million in bills, but that was blamed on a technical issue related to a new-fangled word processing failure. The glitch caused yields to increase by half a percentage point, where they stayed elevated for months. A default on the debt ceiling this time around couldn't be blamed on a technical difficulty due to new technology (having a disproportionate ego, however, could be a valid excuse).
Even after the U.S. government shutdown is resolved and the debt ceiling is raised, the U.S. will have suffered a major blow to its credibility. After that, it could go from bad to worse.
According to French banking giant Societe Generale, the S&P 500 will go through a tumultuous correction, even after the debt ceiling and shutdown have been remedied, falling 15% in the first quarter of 2014. The bank cites a tapering of quantitative easing and a dysfunctional environment in Washington as the causes. After the correction, it will take a number of years to just rebound to where we are today. (Source: Boesler, M., "SocGen: In a few months, the stock market will drop 15%, then go nowhere for years," Financial Post web site, October 8, 2013.)
While I understand why a 15% correction might be a little unbelievable to those on Wall Street, I'm not so sure they should be shocked at the idea of a correction.
The fact of the matter is that there is a disconnect between what we are seeing on the stock market and what is going on in America. The S&P 500 (INDEXSP:.INX), Dow Jones Industrial Average (INDEXDJX:.DJI), and NASDAQ are all doing exceptionally well, but the average American isn't. The major indices are near record highs, but almost half of Americans are living paycheck-to-paycheck, unemployment remains above seven percent, and GDP growth has been revised downward.
You can't deduce that because someone spent a record sum on an Andy Warhol painting that the whole U.S. economy is doing well.
With the U.S. government shutdown in full bloom and the debt ceiling just around the corner, it might be time for investors to start looking at hedging against political and economic uncertainty.
One of the easiest ways to hedge any of the major indices in the U.S. is with an inverse exchange-traded fund (ETF). Some of the more popular inverse ETFs include ProShares Short S&P500 (NYSEARCA:SH), ProShares UltraPro Short QQQ (NYSEARCA:SQQQ), and ProShares Short Dow30 (NYSEARCA:DOG).
That doesn't mean that to hedge your retirement portfolio against the debt ceiling fiasco you should concentrate on inverse ETFs; rather, it means investors need to revisit their retirement portfolios, find out where their strengths and weaknesses are, and rebalance their portfolio if they need to.
This article is brought to you courtesy of John Whitefoot from the Daily Gains Letter.


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Grand Storm Hit my Town
Grand Storm Hit my TownJun 04
Well, every now and then a great storm hits Zajecar. The one we won't ever forget was 10 years ago when it hailed the size of an apple, the damage was unbleivable. Of course, I was in a movie theater at the time and had no clue what was going on… but this time, I was at home working, until the electricity busted and I had to see what was going on!
You can watch a video here: Storm


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Eleven premarital counseling sessions in a one week period. That is far beyond my typical weekly limit, especially considering I'm in the middle of an intense sermon series, two weeks away from when we're supposed to be in the new ministry center, prepping for an Elder Team meeting Sunday, working the 2010 budget numbers, AND it is semester finals week for the kids. The cool part is that it's actually been a joy to have all these appointments. I've gotten to talk to several people who came to me with questions about who God is. It's also made me think constantly about family in what has been otherwise a crazy week. Here are my highlights…
Most of my premarital counseling is done in my home office. We intentionally found a home in Texas that had a home office so I could work and do some amount of meetings at home. The family convenience is that it I'm at least home, when I would have been gone five nights in a row if I was counseling out of my church office. This means I get to check on homework, grab a snack with the kids, and pray for bedtime between appointments. Otherwise, I'd have been gone from home five nights in a row. My office is just inside the front door, so it doesn't inconvenience the family…much.
Two couples in the same night commented as they were leaving how much they enjoyed coming to my home. It's an interesting comment because they've never been further into the house than my office. They haven't been invited to sit in the living room or come chat in the kitchen, just in the front door and into my office. I sincerely think there's something about a Christian home that is welcoming. There's an attitude, a sincere love for others, and a peace that makes it comfortable to relax and talk. Speaking of peace…
The flipside of having a home office for appointments is that it does bring some work rules into the home. Everyone has to behave when dad has a counseling appointment. We can't be too loud and usually can't bring neighborhood friends inside during appointments. Video games and music are quiet and TV watching is only allowed upstairs in the game room. Other family sounds continue because it is a home. We hear kids tromp up the stairs, other kids yell in the front door for Amelia or JJ, and instrument practice. Amelia's room is directly above my office. So, we're most prone to hear beautiful flute sounds when they're practicing band music. The only time that proved distracting was the week she was focused on getting one particular song ready for the Sandy Lake band competition. Thirty minutes of a flute playing "Smoke on the Water" over and over got to be a little much. Thankfully, she ended when I was finally ready to step out of the office and beg for a reprieve. We all got a good laugh out of that day.
It's still my home, complete with kids who will be kids. Middle school and Jr. High kids to be exact. The chuckle of this week occurred as I was explaining how to have peace in your home. I was talking about these wonderful principles and guidelines to help bring a tender and loving spirit into your family. The young bride-to-be said, "I can tell you do this with your family. Your home is so peaceful." At which point, as if on cue, we hear JJ bellow from somewhere in the house, "AMELIA, Stop that RIGHT NOW!" This just proves God has a sense of humor. I'm not sure if that moment was intended for the good of the couple, to help them realize every family has its good and bad days. Or if it was intended to keep me humble and from starting to think I was the "expert" on these issues. Lesson received.
It probably helped that Deana has been A+, #1 homemaker this week. Every time someone has walked through the door this week I've been able to offer them hot tea or pop, and a plethora of fresh, homemade treats. Deana has provided homemade chocolate chip cookies and my favorite puppy chow (chex mix with peanut butter, chocolate and powdered sugar). Amelia has assisted her mother as 'hostess supreme' and popped in with a plate of goodies for the couple and drinks of choice. JJ even served up a banana this afternoon. As I was wrapping up one session today, a young man said, "I could live here with you guys. Your house smells soooo good." Twas true. Deana was cooking some homemade noodles with chicken for supper. He still had to leave. I got to stay!
The desk in my home office faces a large window on the front of the house. Couples face me with their back to the window. Everyone in the neighborhood knows what I do. Because the kids know the house rules, they all know when I'm counseling someone. They walk across the yard and wave, jump, stop, make faces, fall down and play dead, and have dogs wave their paws at me. I know it won't end until they get my eye contact and know they've been seen. One day this week there were five kids on the sidewalk waving at me in sync. It's a good thing that rolling my eyes counts as eye contact for these kids.
But, it's not just kids. The adults in our neighborhood also know what I do and do the same as the kids. Maybe not as animated, but still wave to get my attention. One night a group of slightly inebriated guys stood outside the window making faces. Good thing it was just dark enough I couldn't tell what they were doing. I found out from Deana later that waving was a mild version of what they discussed. At the neighborhood cookout they were talking about running up to the window and screaming, "Don't do it! Don't get married!" Good thing their wives were present while this was being considered.
One of my favorite discussions of the week was prompted by a young woman who thought I was confusing a couple words. She stopped me and let me know I was mixing up two words: "godly" and "good". I was bouncing between saying "…a godly wife is one who…" and "…a good wife will…". I was glad to explain that it wasn't a slip up on my part. I really believe those terms are interchangable. A godly wife is a good wife. A husband who honors God first will have his wife as the next priority. (See Ephesians 5:21-33, among other bible passages on this topic.) I love being able to talk about this topic. This is what makes it worth my time.
I'm glad my home is a welcoming environment for strangers who come seeking help and hope for the future. If there's something we model that makes the concept of a Christian home seem real, then it's worth the minor inconvenience. It's not that we're a perfect family. Far from it! But we are striving to live as best we can the biblical principles I teach as the right path toward a satisfying marriage and family. If my home can serve as a laboratory of Christian marriage and family, so be it. We're just the lab rats to do it.
The Unexamined Life and All
*Since I'm just catching up from Christmas, here are a few family "lab rats" during our recent holiday adventures.
Posted: January 14, 2010
Filed under: Amelia, Deana, Denton Family, Jeff, JJ, Pastor Jeff, Pictures, Spiritual, Uncategorized
Tagged: counseling, Family, Humor, Jeff, Marriage, office, Pictures
Comments: 2 Comments
Thanks for sharing your life with us. I feel like i'm right there. Miss you all so much! God bless you!
Tell us what you're thinking...
and oh, if you want a pic to show with your comment, go get a gravatar!


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Microsoft Promotes Windows 7 Through Music-Themed Section 7 Facebook Page
Microsoft has taken its Section 7 concert program to Facebook, recently launching a music-themed Page ultimately intended to get more users paying attention to the company's Windows 7 computer operating system.
The larger Section 7 campaign, launched late last year, is a partnership with leading concert ticket vendor Live Nation. It's basically designed to give music fans discounts on tickets (hence the name), merchandise, other daily music deals, and the possibility of winning sweepstakes prizes.
The Facebook effort is a newer component of the campaign, based around a new Page-focused application called The Challenge, developed by Santa Monica, Calif.-based Focused Labs.
Companies have been using music promotions to make their products more attractive to consumers on Facebook for years. But we've seen several new efforts lately aimed at incorporating live music with marketing efforts on the service — one of the few places that Facebook has generally lagged behind social network rival MySpace. One example was the Levi's Fader Fort at the South by Southwest music festival in Austin, last month. The mini-venue streamed days worth of live acts on Facebook, heavy Levi's branding included. Another example is Odwalla: the juice company announced last month that it's providing a combination contest- and music-themed Page designed around mini-stages it plans to have at music festivals this coming year, starting with Coachella in southern California later this month.
The Challenge app, built from scratch for the Section 7 campaign, debuted earlier this week with a "Rockstar" theme. It lets users do things like take quizzes about rock and roll history, competing against Facebook friends to try to get the highest scores and win prizes. But the app is customizable, so the Section 7 team can update it as needed for different promotions. Every week Section 7 will provide a different challenge and prize on Facebook, chief executive James Borow explains. The app will switch from the "Rockstar Challenge" theme to a Country Music Challenge or Rap Challenge theme, for example, without Focused Labs' assistance.
The company plans to offer similar, customizable apps to other brands so they can manage campaign changes on their own. Focused Labs also provides other Page services, and he adds that it helped Section 7 grow its Page from 1,000 fans six weeks ago to the 212,000 audience it has today.


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eating outside the box- the whole foods experiment#go green #dinner recipes #whole food recipes #family friendly meals #cooking with kids
58 votes
1,095 visits
Welcome to Picket Fence Blogs! Our site provides you with the top lifestyle blogs on the web. Feel free to just look around, or add your own blog so others can find you and benefit from what you have to say. Plus, it's free to join!


text: The Naxos Hungarian performance of the Háry János Suite is also wonderfully vivid, with the cimbalom—here perfectly balanced within the orchestra—particularly telling. The grotesque elements of The Battle and Defeat of Napoleon are pungently and wittily characterized and the Entrance of the Emperor and His Court also has an ironical sense of spectacle. The brilliant digital sound adds to the vitality and projection of the music-making, yet the lyrical music is played most tenderly.


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This site is operated by a business or businesses owned by Informa PLC and all copyright resides with them. Informa PLC's registered office is 5 Howick Place, London SW1P 1WG. Registered in England and Wales. Number 8860726.
MRO Asia-Pacific 2019
September 24-26, 2019Singapore Expo Convention and Exhibition Centre,Singapore
Booth: 945https://www.habco.biz/
HABCO is the exclusive authorized supplier of commercial tooling for all Pratt & Whitney legacy engine programs, Pratt & Whitney Canada engine models and the Engine Alliance. All engine tooling is manufactured and guaranteed to meet P&W engine specifications.
HABCO is the exclusive aftermarket ground support equipment supplier for Sikorsky, a Lockheed Martin Company – covering all commercial and military helicopters currently in operational use.
We are proud to serve the commercial and defense aerospace industries with engine and airframe tooling solutions, support and test equipment, and logistics and warehousing. We pledge to continue to innovate, grow and support our partners and to provide maintenance for the lifespan of their equipment.


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Golf Patchwork Monogrammed Bag Tag
Golf Clubs Monogrammed Bag Tag. Perfect on a Golf bag or luggage! Great Women's Monogrammed Golf gift. Bachelorette party favors. Golf Bridesmaid gifts.
Personalized Golf Bag Tag. Great team or Coaches gift too! Girls can tell their bags apart! Custom team colors too!
You can choose from a monogram or a name. Please specify in the comment section the initials in FML format for a man's monogram
Please specify any information you would like on the back,such as an address or phone number.
If no information is specified the same image will be on both sides.
Golf Clubs Bag Tags come wrapped in a clear bag with matching ribbon. 2-1/2" x 4".
This monogrammed Golf Bag tag is sublimated, not vinyl, letters cannot peel off!


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Contact Us
Address: Burgess Bathrooms, 162 Gideon Road, Battersea, London SW11 5ET
Tel: 020 3532 5133
Email: firstname.lastname@example.com
Burgess Bathrooms Ltd
Trading Address: 1 St Katharine's way, London, E1W 1UN
Registered Address: 162 Gideon Road, London, SW11 5ET
Registered in England & Wales
Company Number: 10657211
VAT Number: 279 8142 57
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Whether you simply want to chat through your bathroom project or have specific technical questions please do get in touch. Whilst we can't give formal quotes without a site visit, with some pictures and a brief chat we are happy to give some price guidance over the phone. Please do give us a call or complete the form below.


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By: Samantha 1. The Tombs (Georgetown) Allow me to introduce you to Georgetown's underground gem: The Tombs! I came here for the first time last year with a dear friend attending Georgetown University upon her suggestion. The restaurant is literally … Continue reading
April 20, 2012
by The OJBG Team
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- Hugely popular event on technical and tricky gravel roads based around Matosinhos, near Porto, in the north of the country.
- Thursday evening start at picturesque Guimarães Castle is followed by big power slides for the crowds at Lousada rallycross circuit.
- The first full day heads north for three repeated stages around Viano do Castelo, near the Spanish border. It ends with two tests in Porto's city centre streets.
- Saturday is the longest leg, journeying east to demanding roads in the Cabreira Mountains. Three stages are driven morning and afternoon.
- Sunday is all about Fafe and its enormous crowds. All five stages are in the municipality, including a double pass over the legendary test itself.


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The Mitsubishi Barbarian SVP took the UK by storm, so we thought we'd up the game once again and build an all-new special edition L200, the Barbarian SVP II.
Like its' older brother, the SVP, the striking two-tone colour scheme is instantly recognisable in its two choices, Metallic Atlantic Grey or Pearlescent Diamond Black and significant enhancements have been made to both the exterior and interior.
On the outside, the SVP II sports aggressive wheel arch extensions which cover equally aggressive 17-inch bespoke two-tone, black and orange alloy wheels surrounded by BF Goodrich all-terrain tyres. To further add to the vehicles' distinctive style, exterior features such as the tailgate handle, front grille accent, front and rear light bezels and roof rails are all bright orange to add to the two-tone effect.
Sparing no expense on the inside, the interior follows the same two-tone theme with orange panelling and stitching on the barbarian inspired 'six-pack' leather seats, with the limited edition number stitched into the headrest. Whilst looking the part, the vehicle also has a significant amount of technology to make your day to day that bit easier. Features such as Cruise Control, Keyless Operation, Reversing Camera and Smartphone Link Display Audio are added as standard.
With only 125 models made with the stunning Pearlescent Diamond Black, this exclusive SVP II will is bound to turn heads, no matter the journey.
Much like the previous model, the SVP, the striking two-tone colour scheme is instantly recognisable in two choices - Metallic Atlantic Grey or Pearlescent Diamond Black. Significant enhancements have been added to both the exterior and interior of the car.
To find out more or order your own Barbarian SVP II, call us on 0131 442 2442


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Amazon Web Services
- Service Overview
- Eligibility & Costs
- Support, How-To's & Info
- Internal
The University of Arizona's contract with Amazon Web Services (AWS) allows UA faculty, staff, and students (with a faculty/staff sponsor) to order, provision, and use self-service AWS cloud computing resources.
For the complete and current list of services available, please visit Amazon Web Services.
Webforms in development.
UA IT Professionals are eligible to use this service.
With Cloud Services, you pay for what you use. For most services, there is no minimum fee. AWS also offers a Free Usage Tier program.
Except for the free usage tier, Amazon charges for:
- Use of its web services
- Bandwidth used for data transfer between Amazon web services and the Internet
Pricing for each service is listed on the AWS website. Use the AWS Cloud Service Calculator to estimate monthly costs for various services and configurations.


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Dungeon, Inc. for HTC Desire 300
- Review
- Download
- Screenshots
- Discussions
How to download free Dungeon, Inc. for HTC Desire 300
Compatibility checkingIndicate
- Android version
- Android 9.0
- Android 9
- Android 5.0
- Android 4.4
- Android 4.3
- Android 4.2
- Android 4.1
- Android 4.0
- Android 3.2
- Android 3.1
- Android 3.0
- Android 2.3
- Android 2.2
To find Android version: go to "Settings" - "About the phone" - "Android version"
Installation options
With PC
Follow the link to Google Play and click "install"
HTC Desire 300
Enter link in your mobile browser or scan the QR-code
Guides: «How to create a Google Play account», «How to purchase apps in Google Play»
Questions and support
Read the review Dungeon, Inc.
«Move over, Adventure Capitalist, there's a new sheriff in town»
Author: Brandon Girod 26 Jun 2017
Incredible looking graphics, very interesting mix of gameplay mechanics, great game balance
Pacing can plateau at times
Move over, Adventure Capitalist, there's a new sheriff in town. Dungeon, Inc. for Android is a relatively new idle/clicker that is going to give even the best clickers a run for their money. This game has beautiful art, incredibly addictive gameplay ...


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Blog Archives
Mauna Kea Sunset Panorama
This was just a spur of the moment test shot using a Kindle Fire HD. Not bad for a tablet.
I'm hoping to get a better panorama next week using a Canon 5DII and Canon 17mm TS-E. I'll let you know.
Edit 2/10/15: Wind gusts up to 80mph have kept the road to the top closed for several days. Will have to wait it out.


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Our MP3 modules include decoder board car audio player module, NR7100S recording module, and N9200 voice module.
The decoder board car audio player modules are usually installed in car, motorcycle audio modified, sound system, trolley speaker, card audio and DIY audio. Both NR7100S recording module and N9200 voice module are the sound chips which store SPI memory or provide serial port to supports the SPI-flash function.
They all can support computer sound card control and USB mass storage such as Tf Card & U-Disk , with the advantages of long recording time, flexible control, low cost , clear speech, and best quality.


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Their debut album Resort was released yesterday, so it's time for Julie Eisenstein and Suse Bear give the Best Fit Q&A some Tuff Love
Suse: Young Jake Gyllenhaal but that wouldn't actually make any sense...
Julie: Tina from Bob's Burgers or Steve Buscemi. Tina would do the early years.
Suse: I would like the ability to see into people's brains and see what they are actually thinking. That way you could tell if someone was trying to manipulate you. Maybe i could just have the sunglasses from They Live.
Julie: Invisibility so I could fidget without pissing people off.
Suse: A series of exciting challenges and then an ice cream at the end. Repeat.
Julie: Lots of wild swimming and making things.
Suse: Brush your teeth before eating not after, twice a day.
Julie: To brush my teeth.
Julie: Prince - "Alphabet Street"
Suse: If you're going to go to university, go study something where you will learn practical skills.
Julie: Don't panic.
Suse: I used to have the same dream about a dark swimming pool full of seaweed and seacreatures. Around the swimming pool and outside there were skeletons. I'm scared of the sea. Both options, in the pool or out, were scary.
Julie: That I'm Larry David.
Suse: Aphex Twin - "Lichen"
Julie: The BoJack Horseman theme.
Suse: Adam Curtis, Alex G, Brian Greene, my girlfriend and my friend Alex Scott.
Julie: My five niece/nephews. Alternatively Leonard Cohen, Larry David, Ilana Glazer, Abbi Jacobson and Anthony de Mello.
Suse: My mum. I was a particularly terrible teenager.
Julie: I would also apologise to my mum.


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The global food safety testing market is gaining increasing importance, consequently microbiologists require laboratory tools and methods that provide accurate and efficient results. Increased regulatory controls, globalisation of food supply chains and consumer demand for low cost, readily accessible food product place extreme pressure on today's food microbiologist.
The Seward Stomacher® has been at the centre of food testing protocols for 40 years and remains the global standard in sample preparation.
Globally referenced for thousands of protocols and ISO methods, the Seward Stomacher® 400 range is a proven tool for reliable, repeatable blending of solid food samples.
Challenges in the volume of food sampling has led to methodology developments for pooled sampling such as BAM methods. The Stomacher® 4500 BAM provides solutions to larger sampling requirements.
Every day over 8 million food samples are processed on Seward Stomacher® machines in over 150 countries around the world. It remains the best and most trusted piece of equipment in its field.


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- Sleeps 6
- 3 Bedrooms
- 2 Bathrooms
- 2 Pets allowed
- WiFi available
- No private parking
- No garden/courtyard
Enjoy a seaside escape in Brixham in Polly's Place.
With delightful views over the quaint seaside town of Brixham, Polly's Place offers comfortable accommodation for upto six guests, making this the perfect holiday escape for families.
The open-plan layout of the ground floor with kitchen diner opens out to a lovely terrace, perfect for outdoor dining in the summer months, and watching the sun set over the South Devon Coast.
A comfortable living area with wood burning stove and HDTV offers the perfect retreat for comfortable and cozy place to relax.
The bedrooms are equally comfortable, with a double, a king and a twin, with a double sofa bed as an additional option for flexible sleeping arrangements. The master bedroom also features an en-suite shower room, with another family bathroom available for the use of other guests.
Guests staying in this delightful holiday cottage are within walking distance of the harbour front and all the many local amenities on offer in Brixham.
The quaint harbour offers a fascinating seaside stroll; being home to one of the largest fishing fleets in the country, with over 100 bobbing fishing boats to admire! The harbour town's fish auction ensures guests have plenty of home-cooking opportunities to enjoy a 'catch of the day' as well as for sampling the freshly caught seafood in one of the town's many excellent restaurants.
Brixham Harbour Gardens are lovely to relax in and the unspoilt harbour side idyll in which guests can enjoy a relaxed Mid or North Devon excursion is within easy reach by car or bus from the delights of Paignton and the attractions and vibrant seaside activities of Torquay.
There are also two public swimming pools in Brixham ~ Shoalstone Sea Water Pool along Berry Head Road and the Admiral Indoor Swimming Centre.
Notes:This property has a refundable Accidental Damage Deposit of £250, which is payable to Discovery Holiday Homes with the final balance of your holiday, eight weeks prior to your arrival, and is refunded within 5 working days of your departure. Alternatively, you may wish to pay a non-refundable Accidental Damage Deposit Waiver equivalent to 10% of the Accidental Damage Deposit value, which covers you for the full value of the Accidental Damage Deposit, should any damage occur during your stay.
At a Glance
- Sleeps 6
- 3 Bedrooms
- 2 Bathrooms
- 2 Pets allowed
- WiFi available
- No private parking
- No garden/courtyard
- 1 King size/super king size bed
- 1 Double bed
- 2 Single beds
- 1 Sofa bed
- Bed linen provided
- Range cooker
- Travel Cot
- Dishwasher
- En-suite bathroom
- Highchair
- Sea view
- Smoking not permitted
- Towels included
- Washing machine
- Area fitness centre
- Bike rentals
- Fishing
- Golf
- Park
- Rowing boats
Absolutely loved the location - so easy to get into the village and to the SW Coast Path. The views from every window were mesmerizing! Thanks for being so responsive when we did have an equipment issue. Ms Rachel Williams - 10th October 2019
We had a lovely holiday here, property is spacious clean and well equiped. We particularly liked the views of Brixham from the decking and the close proximity to the town. We hope to be back soon!Helen Awan - 13th August 2018
Lovely ,clean ,central, and had everything we needed to make our stay comfortable and homely. My calves are the best they've ever been with the hill walks but still worth every penny. Thank you so much from all of us - 25th May 2018
We had the most wonderful week here ... just a beautiful house in a picturesque Town... Everyone in the office was very helpful .. also good to get knowledge about the weekly parking permitMr Luke Price - 5th January 2018
Great to sit and watch the harbour lights. Having 2 sitting rooms was a bonus.The Peggs Family - 14th December 2017
A wonderful place to stay, really lovely to be next to the beach. Will definitely come back and stay.Teasdale Family - 15th July 2017
What a wonderful holiday home in a perfect spot. Brilliantly laid out for families to enjoy each others company, but also have a bit of space if needed. Spotless, with all items that were needed for a perfect week away with my grown up children and their partners. Totally relaxing (apart from the steps) but it wouldn't be Brixham without them. Wonder times, thank you very much xxMichaela Reynolds, Weston-super-Mare - 1st July 2016
Polly's Place was the perfect location for a long weekend in Brixham. Very close to the centre of town with some great fish & chips and local pubs. Beautiful view over the harbour also. The house was great and had everything we could have wanted! Parking is available just up the road close to the park which worked out great for us.Peter - 1st June 2016
Thank you for a lovely stay and we really would like to come back next year at the same time! in the end we only had 5 staying, instead of the 7 we booked for, as two had to cancel. Thanks!Mim MacMahon, Felixstowe, Suffolk - 1st May 2016
This is a lovely, cosy home in a great location in the old part of Brixham. Stylishly laid out and furnished, very well equipped and an unbeatable harbour view. We had a lovely four night stay and couldn't fault either the customer service from Discovery Holiday Homes or Polly's Place. Definitely hope to return!Nickie, Wye Valley, Wales - 1st May 2016
My family and I stayed at Polly's Place for a week and couldn't fault it in any way. The accommodation, furnishings and the view were perfect. One of our party has breathing problems and we had arranged for her oxygen machine to be delivered to the house. Debs, the house keeper, went out of her way to ensure she was there to take delivery. We'll be back there soon!David - Glasgow - 1st April 2016
Enjoyed our short stay at Polly's Place. From the welcoming bottle of wine to the lovely views over the harbour. Everything was in place to ensure a comfortable stay. Would recommend and will investigate other possible Discovery Holiday Homes for future breaks.David Skelton from Evesham - 1st September 2015
Outstanding property, ideally situated to enjoy all that Brixham can offer, including beautiful views of the harbour, within walking distance of pebble beach and natural seawater outdoor pool, ferries to Torquay, great restaurants and other local amenities. Acommodation is comfortable and homely, with great facilities and within short walking distance of harbour. Easy bus access to Paignton station. Highly recommended.Emily Bailey, Bristol - 1st July 2015


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Price: £14.50
Quantity: 1 available
Book Condition: Very Good
"An entirely new work to be completed in 25 fortnightly parts" This is part 20. Orange paper wraps with black lettering and decoration. The four colour plates in this part are The Shepherdess by J.F. Millet; Scheveningen by J. Maris; Miss Bowles ("Love Me, Love My Dog") by Sir J. Reynolds; Hard Times by Sir H. Von Herkomer. At the end of this part are two colour advertisements one for Colman's Bath Mustard and the other for the Daimler Company. Prompt dispatch.
Title: Great Pictures By Great Painters Reproduced in Colour with Descriptive Notes - Part 20
Categories: Art,
Edition: First Edition
Publisher: London, Cassell & Co: 1915
Binding: Soft Cover
Book Condition: Very Good
Size: Folio - over 12" - 15" tall
Item: 1.00 Item
Seller ID: 013089
Keywords: Art Magazines,


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Fittingly for a tournament held just outside Flint, the hometown was well-represented at the Great Lakes Summer Championship. That was particularly evident in the 16-under championship game. That Team Detroit win berthed three Flintstones among the first-team all-tournament squad.
MVP Monte Morris 5-10 So Team Detroit (Flint Beecher)
Played beyond his years. He controlled games with the ball in his hands, and picked and chose when to create is own offense (of which Morris is mighty capable). You couldn't have asked for any more from Morris in the championship game, as he didn't budge against Pride's first-half onslaught, then was damn near perfect in leading the comeback. Literally perfect from the line in the final -- 9-for-9 free throws. Morris is a high-major recruit for sure, similar to Indianapolis junior Yogi Ferrell.
Antwan Burks 5-9 Jr Team Detroit (Flint Beecher)
He scored 20 with a bunch of steals in the semifinals and had 10 more in the championship game. Tough guard. Has the advantage of using his quickness to slash from the wings, with Morris doing the ball-handling; Burks is creative with it in the lane himself and often finds himself at the stripe. Still his most important contributions are defensively, going one-on-one against a dribbler or taking the ball the other way off the press.
Chris Hass 6-2 Jr Parallel 45-Green (Pellston)
He scored 33 in a pool win over Team Detroit, then had 32 in a semifinal loss. That helped Hass become the Championship's leading scorer despite tallying just six points in a running-clock pool win. While a good catch-and-shoot three-point scorer, Hass gets most of his points creating jumpers, layups or free throws off the dribble (15-of-15 at the line in the two Team Detroit games). He's highly skilled with a long first step, and that length gives him defensive potential (at this level, he ends up blocking a couple shots a game).
Connar Tava 6-5 Jr Stars Basketball (Warren De La Salle)
At De La Salle, Tava plays with three senior who can play college basketball. Nevertheless, at the recent Oakland team camp he looked like the best prospect. Tava's play at the Summer Championship did nothing to dissuade that opinion. The Stars are a very underrated, well-coached team that can defend, with Tava starring on the backline and dangerous Waterford Mott junior
Chris Dewberry
at guard. Tava plays hard like you expect from a DLS kid, he's active and athletic on the glass, runs the floor, scores aggressively inside and isn't uncomfortable away from the basket.
Anton Wilson 6-5 Jr Dorian's Pride (Flint Carman-Ainsworth)
Smooth, angular Todd Day-style wing could be the next Jaquan Hart? Morris Peterson? Corey Hightower? K'len Morris out of Flint? Didn't miss early in the championship game against Team Detroit, but foot injury slowed him a bit later. Wilson can do a lot more than shoot, can get in to score around the basket, is an active rebounder and defender when he chooses to be. The more he shoots it, the more resulting activity, typically.
Chris Dewberry 6-1 Jr Stars Basketball (Waterford Mott)
Davario Gaines 6-7 Jr Dorian's Pride (Saginaw)
Keegan LaBlance 5-6 Jr Parallel 45-White (Charlevoix)
Taylor Perry 6-3 Jr Dorian's Pride (Rochester)
Denzel Watts 5-10 Jr Team Detroit (Flint Carman-Ainsworth)


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Founded in Europe's center of gravity, Brussels, Belgium in the year 1998, EMPTINESS embarked on their musical journey with a burning vision to delve deep into darkness. While the band was taking musical inspiration from different extreme styles such as black and death metal, the Belgians approached them in an open minded manner of continuous experimentation.
'Not for Music' embeds those early influences in ambient soundscapes that are imbued with a sinister foreboding of something evil lurking underneath those often elegant textures and surfaces. Strings and electronics blend seamlessly into an overarching sound of rising darkness that embeds eerily rasping vocals that scratch along frayed nerve ends like the dry snakeskin whispering of claws gliding over ancient vellum filled with arcane symbols and forbidden knowledge. Yet far from dwelling in the distant past, this horror has firmly settled within the concrete, glass and steel vistas of a modern metropolis in our time.
EMPTINESS scored the devil's luck and won the perfect production set-up to create these sinister soundscapes. After recording in their own Blackout Studio, the Belgians received an invitation to further enhance the production of 'Not for Music' by Jeordie White (aka Twiggy Ramirez from Marilyn Manson and Nine inch nails) who contacted the band after being impressed by their previous album 'Nothing but the Whole' (2014). Gladly accepting his invitation to Los Angeles, EMPTINESS furthermore used the golden opportunity to work in this city with Sean Beavan at Redrum Studio at the final mix and mastering. Following their inception, EMPTINESS first released the two demos 'Eternal Rising' (2000) and 'Necrorgy' (2002) that received a remarkable welcome in the underground. Yet with each new album, 'Guilty to Exist' (2004), 'Oblivion' (2007), 'Error' (2012), and 'Nothing but the Whole', the Belgians were also increasingly leaving a mark in mainstream music press.
Now EMPTINESS dare you to close your eyes and let 'Not for Music' lure you into their realm of dark music.
|Contact: area42.agency (@) gmail.com


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'Flames not Flowers' is a performance art project, by women of the Family Resource Centre in St. Michael's Estate (beside Richmond Barracks) and Inchicore.
"Flames Not Flowers" performed at the state ceremonial event on the 8th of March, International Women's Day 2016, to commemorate the women of the Easter Rising. They also performed throughout the streets of Dublin City on Easter Monday 2016 as part of Reflecting the Rising.
The performance is a re-enactment of the defiant spirit of the hundreds of women who participated in the Rising, in particular the 77 women volunteers, who were arrested after the Rising and taken to Richmond Barracks. Their form of resistance was to sing in unison as they marched from each of their garrisons.


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Former England all-rounder Paul Collingwood and former England seamer Angus Fraserhave reportedly been handed team roles by the England and Wales Cricket Board ( ECB).
Three-time Ashes winner Collingwood, who captained England to the World Twenty20 title in 2010, has been named England assistant coach for the limited-overs tour of the West Indies and World Twenty20 in Bangladesh and will work alongside head coach Ashley Giles.
Meanwhile, Fraser was appointed as an England selector earlier on Wednesday.
According to the BBC, Collingwood will work with England on a short-term basis before rejoining Durham, which he captained to the County Championship title last year, and Giles said that the former player would add great energy and a winning T20 pedigree to the touring team.
The report mentioned that Collingwood, who helped coach Scotland to the 2015 World Cup, takes over from specialist fielding coach Richard Halsall for the West Indies tour in February and March and the World Twenty20, and his appointment marks the latest stage in England's rebuilding following the disastrous 5-0 Ashes whitewash in Australia.
Meanwhile, the report added that limited-overs coach Giles is among the favourites to succeed Flower and take charge of all three formats, the report added.


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Visionary Partner
Through Food Lion Feeds, we are creating a better tomorrow by uniting customers and partners to eliminate the choices families are forced to make when they are hungry.
Food Lion LLC and Food Lion Feeds Charitable Foundation
is Helping Us Solve Hunger
Provides marketing and financial support to engage the public in hunger-relief
Provides food, funds or supplies to disaster-relief.
Employees volunteer or donate across the Feeding America nationwide network.
Provides financial support to help solve hunger in America.
Provides food and groceries or personal care items to people in need.
"Food Lion Feeds is part of who we are as a company and is something we're just as passionate about as serving our customers. At Food Lion, we believe no one should have to choose between dinner and paying rent or medicine and buying groceries."


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Monika: Hello Kirsty! It is my sheer pleasure to welcome you to "The Heroines of My Life"!
Kirsty: Thank you It is a pleasure to be interviewed by you.
Monika: How are you doing these days?
Kirsty: I have never felt better thank you now I'm living my life how it should be.
Monika: Where did you grow up?
Kirsty: I was born in Crawley West Sussex England and I have been here ever since.
Monika: Could you describe your childhood? When did you feel for the first time that you should not be a boy or man ?
Kirsty: I had a happy childhood but from a very early age I preferred the company of females rather than boys, and as I got older I knew that I was different but did not know why.


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I'm 20 and think of myself as average looking, but I have struggled with confidence in the past. I have used a few escorts. I know paying for sex is a debatable topic and where I live, illegal.
I treated the women respectfully. I am not a misogynist and didn't view it as buying sex. I believed it was consensual. I used protection, felt safe before, during and after, got tested and was negative for STDs.
However, I regret it. I am trying to learn from that mistake and learn to accept myself every day. I'm ready to put it behind me. Through this I learned I'm a relationship guy. Maybe it was a good thing to get a bit of promiscuity out of the way. I would never think of doing it again because I believe I am a good person.
That said, if I were involved with a woman who was promiscuous or even admitted to being with a gigolo, it wouldn't change how I thought of her. But I know women feel differently.
I do care about people, but at the time I was foolish and naïve. I didn't know about trafficking and other dangers, and I never picked up women off the streets. They seemed like normal people to me.
It's not like I'm the first or last guy to do it. That's not the point, I know, but I know it's not that uncommon. I know I have something in common with Hugh Grant, Charlie Sheen, Jason Biggs and Jerry Springer.
Do you think I've damaged my chances for a relationship? Down the road, should I tell my partner? I'm young with my whole life ahead of me. I try to be an honest person, but I think this might be a skeleton that will never come out of my closet. Thoughts? Am I being too hard on myself?
~ Kyle
Kyle, ask yourself three questions. Why do I want to tell? What do I expect from telling? When would I tell?
Would you tell to get it off your chest and feel better? Would you use telling as a test to see if a woman accepts you? Would you use telling to push a woman away from you? Can you see that unburdening yourself doesn't make it go away. It puts the burden on the other person.
What reaction might you expect from a woman? For "a girl next door" the whole concept of prostitution will be foreign. With her morals, would she accept you any more than she would accept a guy who deals drugs?
If you tell a girl with a past, she may be willing to accept you because, by comparison, her past doesn't look so bad. She may feel what you did is illegal and what she did is just trampy.
But don't think you can now calculate how you will feel about a girl with a past, because your own unforeseen reactions may surprise you. What was okay for you won't seem okay for her.
Plus, when to tell? First or second date? Six months? When it feels right? What could you be putting in a woman's head? In the future he will pay for prostitutes.
Perhaps you need to tell a few times to see what happens. But you may lose someone you care about over this.
Our advice: a girlfriend isn't a therapist, and neither is a relationship. You don't get to use a relationship to dump guilt on someone else. But if you want a relationship, you need to absolutely know this behavior will never reoccur using any rationalization.
Not only will you hurt yourself, you will destroy another person's trust and confidence in you. Don't tell and don't do it again. That's what we suggest.
We are allowed to change and move forward, but if we haven't changed, we don't get to move forward.
~ Wayne & Tamara
Column for the week of October 27, 2014
Send letters to: [email protected]