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Confession at St. Mary's
Jim Bartlett· December 24, 2019
Featured Post12 Days of ChristmasEnglishLiteratureChristmas
·2 Comments·14 mins read·1
written by: Jim Bartlett
Mickey rounded the end of the fence, stopping to take a long hard look down the narrow alley. His muscles tightened, his gut wrenched, his vision narrowed.
No alleys. Can't do alleys.
He pulled his gloved hands—gloved if you don't count the hole in the palm and the missing thumb—out of his pockets and rubbed them together as if sticks trying to start a fire. Really, all he was hoping to do was get some semblance of feeling in at least one.
Have to go around. No alleys.
He resumed his march, his eyes taking the occasional nervous glance back at the alley, all the while staying tight to the brick building. When he finally made Willow, the street that crossed along the front of St. Mary's, he stopped again, this time leaning his shoulder and face up against the brick. From here he saw the line—easily longer than last year's–winding down the stairs and stretching out onto the cracked sidewalk. In the chill of the late afternoon, they looked more like a line of locomotives, their steam-engine breaths filling the air above.
Closing his eyes, he stood, hands to the brick, searching deep inside for an excuse—any excuse–to go back to the shelter. Tuck back into his corner.
But hunger wouldn't let his anxiety win, and he started toward the old church.
He wandered over to the procession and took his place to the back. There a few raised downtrodden faces with nods of hello. He searched those faces looking for anyone he might know, yet not one rang familiar.
But, really, who was he fooling? Good memory wasn't one of his better traits.
Maybe in the long run, that wasn't such a bad thing.
With the temperature continuing to drop and the daylight rapidly fading, Mickey stuffed his hands deeper into his pockets and willed the line to move along more quickly. That was not to be the case, and when he reached the stairs, which seemed in the cold to take just short of forever, the line behind him was every bit as long as the one to his front. By the time he finally reached the cover of the entry, the first flakes of snow had begun to fall just outside on the landing.
Yet at the same time, here the sounds and the aromas from the kitchen drifted through the open door, filling the air with warmth. Easing the cold from his bones.
Maybe even a bit from his soul.
He stepped into the lobby, where a tiny nun, wearing both her habit and a smile, directed him toward the serving table that seemed to stretch the length of the next room. The woman at the front, a plate already in her hand, waved him over.
"Evening, Mickey. Merry Christmas. Good to see you back again this year."
For some reason he couldn't remember her, though he thought he knew her voice. She was older, and yet young at the same time, and as she ladled a good-sized helping of mashed potatoes onto his plate he realized that her voice had captivated him. Pulled on him from so deep inside that he actually looked up and met her gaze.
He found himself frozen there, staring into eyes that twinkled with care. Staring at a smile that was as real as the spirit in which she gave. For that moment she could have been his mom. Maybe his grandmother. Maybe in that moment, just that very moment, she was exactly that.
"Merry Christmas," he replied weakly.
"Eat well," she said with a wink, and passed his plate to the man to her side.
A tall gentleman, someone Mickey sort of recognized – most likely a local celebrity who was giving back to the community – handed him his overflowing plate and a toothpick at the end of the line. "Forks and spoons right over there. Napkins are on the tables," he said pointing.
Mickey took a couple of steps, but stopped to take in the sight. The dining room was massive, with tall stained-glass windows and a ceiling so high it seemed to disappear into the hanging lights. There was a clanking of silverware to plates blending with the low rumbles of conversations that gave the air a feeling of contentment.
A feeling of the season.
He'd been here before, felt this before, but it never lasted. Just a ship passing in the night.
Something was different tonight.
He moved out into the seating area, but most of the tables were full. After walking a little farther to the back, he finally found an open spot at a smaller table with two other men.
"Mind if I sit here?"
"Join in, friend."
The invitation came from the man sitting on the other side of the table and came with a wave to the open seat and a nod. He was older, his whiskered face leathery and wrinkled from the sun. Or maybe just life's cruel hand. A bird's nest of gray hair poured out from under a ragged ball cap, and he wore a set of ancient fatigues and an Army field jacket.
Vietnam, Mickey thought.
The other man, about the same age, but not quite as worn down—or was he?–scooted over a bit to make more room for Mickey as he sat.
"Howdy," he mumbled, shoveling in another forkful of food.
Mickey noted that while there was plenty of turkey filling that mouth, there were few teeth left. He'd been lucky, at least so far, in that his teeth were still pretty good.
But he was a lot younger than this guy.
"Jarhead?"
The vet's voice—at least he was still assuming him to be one—startled Mickey and he took a moment to nod in reply.
"Must have been Iraq."
Another nod. He realized that despite being famished, he had yet to take a bite.
"At least two tours. And I'll bet a dollar to a donut you were in that Surge thing, right?"
Mickey had come to eat and take the chill off his bones, not to reminisce. Not to regurgitate times better forgotten. He'd had enough of that with the VA shrink. That and the drugs that were supposed to help him "adjust."
"Yeah…two tours. And the Surge. How'd you know?"
"I was in recon in 'Nam. You learn to see things most folks miss." The man reached out with an open hand. His nails were chewed down, and what was left was dirty, but there was some heart in that palm that pulled Mickey's hand up to meet the vet's.
"Craig. Morrison, if you care about that part. Out of Barstow. Cali."
That seemed to grab the arm of the man on Mickey's right, his spoonful of steaming peas frozen midway to his mouth. "Jeesh. Barstow. I'm outta Victorville."
Craig swung his hand over. "Pleased to meet you, Victorville."
"Dennis. Dennis Williams."
The two both turned to Mickey.
"Mickey."
"Ah….the 'Mick.' Bet you can swing that bat, eh?" said Craig.
"Oh, yeah, before your time. Mantle. Mickey Mantle."
"Oh, the baseball guy. Yankees, right?"
"Is there any other team?"
Mickey shrugged. "Haven't been following sports for a while. But, used to be football. The Packers."
"A cheesehead, eh? You from up around those parts?"
"Not far south. Oshkosh."
"Lake Winnebago."
"You know the area?"
"Passed through once or twice. Drove a truck for a while."
Mickey finally dug into his plate, forking a good-sized piece of turkey. Something on his face must have shown in how good the food really was, as a smile popped onto Craig's.
"Merry Christmas, Mickey."
He nodded and returned the smile.
After a few bites, his belly finally starting to feel the warmth, he looked back over to Craig. "You seem to know a lot about what went on in Iraq, but I have to admit, I don't know a damn thing about 'Nam. My dad was in Korea, but that was a different war."
"Yeah, a different animal all together." For a moment he looked away, then, with a long sigh, put down his fork and leaned his elbow to the table. "Lost a few buds over there, Mick. And, I'm sure, like you, most of it I'd just as soon not dredge back up. Not a lot of good stuff to talk about."
"You said you were recon?"
"Yup. Not much good to say about it, either. But, I guess I'm thankful I was never a…a…tunnel rat."
Mickey knew the term. Knew that the tunnel rats were the first down the hole leading to the system of tunnels dug by the Viet Cong. Knew about the booby traps. Knew about…
Well, he knew that was probably all that Craig wanted to say about it.
"Listen to me whine. I heard stories about the Surge. Kickin' in the doors. House to house. It…" Craig trailed off, picking back up his fork and stirring it around in his corn.
"When you guys came back. Got home. Was it as bad as I heard?" Mickey asked, still chewing some turkey.
"Worse. Baby killers, they called us. Scourge of the Earth." His head dropped a bit and he moved his plate aside, taking a long drink of his tea. "Couldn't find a job for months. I finally quit tellin' folks I'd served." He looked up and met Mickey's gaze. "At least that changed for you guys. And that sort of helped us in the long run."
"Yeah, when I joined my folks were proud. My wife proud. The neighbors proud. And the town folk, well, you were just some sort of hero. I'd jumped in thinking I was doing the right thing, you know, fightin' for the cause. All American boy. And man, joining the Marines, what a high, eh?" He looked away, as if searching for a thought or maybe just some lost word, then turned back to Craig. "Then, one day you're home. Trying to find your place. All the while, somewhere in the back of your head the reality of what happened without really knowing why. And it just doesn't want to settle in." Mickey made a funny twist with his mouth, something he'd been doing since he was a kid, then looked back over to Craig. "Ever tried dealing with the VA?"
Craig slowly shook his head in an exaggerated nod. "Many a time, compadre."
"I couldn't keep a friggin' job, man." Dropping his fork on the plate – a sort of plop as it landed in the mashed potatoes – Mickey set his elbows on the table and buried his face in his hands. "My wife put up with me for a while, but you can only take so much, ya know?"
"And then one day you're sleepin' under a bridge, wonderin' what the hell happened," said Craig.
Mickey opened his hands and stared over at the vet. There was more to that story, and Mickey wanted to ask, but something in Craig's eyes told him that was all he was going to say for now. Maybe, at all.
It was then, as if called for by the moment, or maybe a prayer answered, the group at the table nearest the back wall began to sing Silent Night. He thought for a moment about joining in, but instead found his fork, letting his belly enjoy the first real meal he'd had in a while.
Across from him, Craig had turned to watch the make-shift choir, while Dennis, to his side, was noticeably quiet, his food untouched since they had begun talking. Mickey turned just enough to get a peek, catching Dennis with his head bowed and his eyes closed.
"You okay?" he asked.
"I think I'd better find another table," Dennis finally said, his words quivering and almost a whisper.
Wiping his eyes, he grabbed his plate and scooted back his chair, but Craig put a big calloused hand over his. "You're welcome here, my friend. No need to go anywhere. Everyone in this room is grieving or regretting something in their past. Pretty sure no one drove up in a Porsche." He leaned over to look past Mickey. "'Septin' maybe that weather guy passing out the toothpicks there at the end of the line," he said with a smile.
"You don't understand." Dennis wasn't trying to stand, but he hadn't slid his chair back up to the table either. "I'm not like you guys."
Craig kept his hand on Dennis's. "You, my friend, are the one who doesn't understand. The three of us are sitting here having Christmas dinner thanks to the kindness of a lot of good folks. We're here because something in our past didn't quite work out. We each have our own ghosts, our own failings. Ain't nothin' to be proud of, but ain't one of us any better than the other. We are alike, a lot more than you think."
"No…you really don't understand."
"Well, then, help us to understand. We got nothin' better to do than fill our bellies and take in a good story. We're all ears. Ain't we Mick?"
Mickey looked over at Craig, then shifted his gaze to Dennis and nodded. "All ears."
Dennis let go of his plate and clasped his hands together in his lap, his gaze falling to the floor. He began to take in sobbing breaths, each a bit deeper and longer. "While you were in 'Nam, fightin' for your country in all that horror, I split. Went to Canada…" He broke into tears, no more words able to escape.
"Everything okay here, my sons?"
Mickey turned to see the petite little nun who had greeted him earlier at the door standing behind Dennis, her hand now on his shoulder.
"It is, Sister. Just a little confessional from the heart. You know, better than any of us, how that does the soul good. Sometimes we pray. Sometimes we cry. And if we're real lucky, and I do mean REAL lucky, we sometimes get to laugh at our follies," replied Craig.
She smiled a smile that settled in Mickey's heart, then leaned down and whispered something into Dennis's ear. He raised his head and looked her in the eye with the slightest of an upturn to the corners of his mouth.
"Let me know if I can be of any help," she said as she stepped away. "God bless you all on this magical day."
They sat in quiet for a moment, but Dennis's words kept playing in Mickey's head.
"I don't understand. Went to Canada? Was does that even mean?" Mickey looked first at Dennis, then over to Craig, not sure who he was really asking.
"You volunteered, my friend. Joined the Marines on your own free will thinking you were doing the right thing. Helping your country." Craig kept his hand on Dennis's. "Back in our time there was a draft. Didn't get to think things through like that. Right? Wrong? Good? Bad? Really didn't matter. You got your notice and a couple weeks later you belonged to Uncle Sam."
"So what's Canada got to do with it?"
"Some guys, even in that time, like you, saw it as their duty and joined free will. But most of us were drafted. It made for one scary time, let me tell you. Here we were a bunch of 18 and 19-year-olds who'd never been out of the county, much less off in some stinkin' jungle a million miles from home. We weren't just afraid, we were scared shitless.
"But, you know, that wasn't the half of it. There was so much we weren't being told. Just weren't being told. And Mick, you wouldn't believe how much of what we were told was just a pile of BS. So, so many lies…"
Craig's voice seemed to trail off, as did the look in his eyes. For a moment, Mickey could almost see a 19-year-old knee-deep in a rice paddy, mortar shells exploding close by. Way too close. He thought about that alley in Iraq. The ringing in his ears as the AK-47 fire filled the air.
"…but none of that mattered," Craig continued. "Whether you were scared – as we all were – or just plain didn't agree, it didn't matter. You either went or you packed your bags and headed north to Canada. The guys that went there were lucky in that the Canadians, for the most part at least, turned a blind eye. Not the case down here in the States. There was a lot of animosity." He stopped, sort of cocked his head, then snapped his fingers. "No, that's not the right word. It was hate. Hostile hate for the draft dodgers. Especially from those of us who went over there. And maybe especially those that didn't want to. And you can't imagine what it must have been like for the parents who lost a kid over in that hellhole. There was no room for sympathy in their hearts for anyone who skedaddled off to Canada. No matter what the circumstance. No sirreee."
"I – I never heard anything about this." Mickey leaned forward, setting his elbows back on the table. He wanted to turn toward Dennis, ask him how he could have abandoned his country. His family. How he could dishonor those who made the sacrifice. But there were no words. And, who was he to say anything?
"It all happened a long time ago, Mick," said Craig, shaking his head.
Dennis looked over to Mickey. "I can't imagine what you must think of me. You went on your own. I high-tailed it." He sucked in a breath, something that sounded more like a gasp, and then continued. "My granddad was a Colonel or something in World War II. My dad flew a fighter plane in Korea. And when it came to my turn, I ran. Couldn't do it. I was so scared."
Mickey opened his mouth, but words seemed to fail him. He felt the heat building in his face, his gut wrenching in a sort of angry twist. This guy RAN to Canada? He–
Craig shifted his hand from Dennis's to Mickey's, interrupting his thoughts.
"Hang in there, compadre. I know what you're thinkin', but cool them jets down a bit. Give this some real thought. Ain't one of us here at the table that can stand up all holier than thou and just walk away. Watch them stones you're casting, my friend. One of them may just bounce off and knock you in the head."
"But, nothin'. You think Dennis ain't dyin' inside right now, having to spill his guts. Cut him some slack. He was a kid at the time. 19, for God's sake."
Mickey, pulling his hand from under Craig's, slid back his chair and let his head lean way back against the rest. "Oh, God, Craig. You don't understand." His head fell forward and now it was his turn to cry.
Craig sat quiet, giving Mickey some space, but when the tears didn't let up, he stood and moved around the table, leaning down next to him and wrapping his arm around his shoulder.
"Help me understand, Kid."
"I ran, Craig. I ran from that alley. They all died…and I ran."
Craig dropped to his knee and put his head to Mickey's shoulder, tears filling his eyes. "So did I, Mick. They came out of the trees. They were everywhere. So I ran, Mick. I ran and ran."
"Well, well. I see that the Spirit has joined you fine young men for Christmas dinner this wonderful eve."
The voice was that of the nun, and when Mickey looked up, his head having been bowed, he saw that she had her hands on both Dennis and Craig's shoulders. The three men held hands around the table, bringing a wide smile to the rounded face of the little nun.
"Just making our plans for next Christmas, Sister. We've decided that next time around, we're all going to be helping behind the table, passing out to those less fortunate." Craig gave her a wink, bringing that smile, though it didn't seem possible, even wider.
"I'm going to hold you to that, you know." She winked back at Craig, nodded at Mickey as though she'd known all along, and then, patting Dennis on the back, disappeared into the kitchen.
Jim Bartlett
After a long career of tinkering in telecommunications, Jim Bartlett switched to tinkering with words, both, of course, requiring a stretch of the imagination. He has since been fortunate to have a number of stories, ranging from flash to novella, featured in Fiction on the Web, CrimeSpree Magazine, Short-Story.me, Ontologica, The Scarlet Leaf Review, Fairlight Books and a number of other wonderful publications. Most recently one of his stories was featured in the print anthology, The Best of Fiction on the Web, 1996 – 2017. While mentally he strolls along a warm California beach with his wife and golden retriever (shhh, she doesn't know she's a dog), physically they reside on a special little island in the Pacific Northwest.
Latest posts by Jim Bartlett (see all)
A Christmas Rose - December 24, 2022
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Stand By Me - May 8, 2022
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This publication is part 46 of 82 in the series 12 Days of Christmas
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michael mccarthy says:
fine and thought provoking story. i found the exchanges between the three men especially credible and moving. great stuff, Jim
seaswirl98282 says:
Thanks ever so much for the kind comments, Michael.
I hope you and your loved ones have a magical Christmas and a wonderful New Year.


I have been blogging 4 whole years today. It all started because a friend told me I should blog about make up because I loved it so much and spent so much money on it! It was always, always intended to be a hobby. Over the past four years I've seen some of my favourite bloggers stop posting altogether, I've seen new bloggers explode onto the scene and become almost celebrities, I've wondered numerous times if this is something I want to continue doing and I've despaired at falling at the hype for a new product only to realise I've been suckered in, hook line and sinker by a blogger doing a glossy advertorial on the brands behalf.
But, cynicism aside, over the past four years I have met the most amazing people, in real life and virtually, I've been supported by the blogging community when I was diagnosed with cancer, I've spent thousands on make up and I've discovered some amazing products.
I think blogging is dying. I think Youtube has pretty much taken it's place along with Instagram and Snapchat. We're all so busy that we crave quick, bite sized pieces of info. We like to look at pictures. I'm still more likely to read a blog than buy a magazine but I don't commit regularly to my favourite blogs as I once did. Many of my friends say the same.
Yet something keeps me writing. Being 36, a blogger who does this for fun, who can't remember the last PR sample she received, doesn't give a crap about numbers, who just loves make up and spending money on it and knows how to pronounce micellair water correctly, I think I have a voice. And that my opinions are valid. One thing you will always always get on these pages is an honest opinion. If you need it, I'll urge you to give it a go. If I think it's utter rubbish I will tell you. I love writing about what I want, when I want to. I have no PR promises to keep or loyalties to nurture. And I genuinely think people appreciate that.
So on my 4th blogging anniversary, I'm sharing with you my thoughts on the very hyped up, incredibly hard to get hold of, Huda Beauty eyeshadow palette. I did a mini review on Snapchat and so many people actually messaged me and thanked me for being so honest that I decided to do a full review on my blog.
I had such high hopes for this palette that I purchased three. One for me, one for my friend for Xmas and one for a giveaway on my blog. But I'm so underwhelmed by it I'm not sure whether to gift those other two palettes. Why would I give something to you that I don't love myself?
I have a lot of thoughts on this palette so grab a coffee and read on.
I'll start with the packaging. Such a let down! This is drugstore packaging at best-a cardboard palette with a flip top lid and a cardboard sleeve. It feels cheap and I would expect something like this from Superdrug in the UK or Walgreens in the US and I just don't get how a $65 palette can look and feel so cheap. One of the pans in my palette has already fallen out because the glue underneath isn't holding it. It's like a cheap Z palette. I look at Violet Voss which also has cardboard packaging but has a huge mirror built into it, has 20 shades in it and each pan in the Violet Voss is 1.8g of product whereas the Huda is 1g each. And it's $45. Now I will be honest, I think that the Violet Voss is an exceptional palette and I literally can't put it down. I've hit pan on 4 of the shades because I use it so much. I love my eyeshadows to be sparkly and shimmery on the lid with matte transition shades in the crease and so both the Huda and Violet Voss palettes tick all this boxes-visually in the pan anyway.
You can read my thoughts on the Violet Voss Holy Grail palette here.
My disappointment started with the Huda Beauty palette the moment I swatched the shades. I bought these palettes in Sephora Dubai Mall and was so happy to see them I just grabbed three and headed for the counter. I didn't swatch in store. I was just so sure they were going to be amazing.
I'm going to start reviewing them from the bottom upwards, leaving the foiled shadows until last given they are the ones everyone seems to be so hyped about.
I've watched Huda's videos about this palette and she says the two key shades she wanted to build this palette around were Flamingo and Maneater-the red and bright pink. Not your everyday wearable shadow combo. I get that there is an abundance of neutral eye palettes out there, and I also get that warm reddy tones are very on trend right now-look at the recent all matte red toned Chanel palette, Modern Renaissance by Anastasia and the Tom Ford Honeymoon quad-warm red toned shadows are everywhere. But they're also very difficult to make due to the pigments needed-they tend to be very stiff to work with, especially matte formulas and in some cases, red eyeshadows can cause major irritation because of the high levels of pigment in them (Carmine is the specific irritant often associated with red toned eyeshadow ingredients). And overall this palette learns very warm-which will look amazing on some people but there is not enough cool toned shadows to add balance to the palette.
Sandalwood and Henna don't swatch brilliantly but they're not horrible to work with on the lid. They're very warm and I tend to mix the two together to use as a transition shade. It's what I used in the picture below topped with a little Coco and #Blessed pressed on the lid.
There's actually very little fall out from the matte shadows and these three shades aren't too tricky to blend on the eye as long as you're patient and take the time to build up the colour. And that's one of the problems with this palette overall-you need to spend time working with it and to blend and build and perfect the application. I found Maneater to be very dry and chalky personally and difficult to work with-having said that, it's unlikely I will dip into Maneater very often at all. Suede probably blends the easiest and is the smoothest of the matte shadows although I also found Shy and Bossy to be fine too. Black Truffle was chalky and uneven again-and is a shade I'm unlikely to use a lot. There are definitely smoother, creamier matte blacks out there.
Firstly, I'm really confused why the #Blessed 3D metal shadow isn't with all the other 3D metal shadows on the top row-that's personally where I would have put it.
Moondust and Bae are very similar in tone-a very yellow'd cream but one is matte and one is shimmery. Bae hardly shows up on me and can only be used as an eyeshadow base and Moondust feels a little gritty. These two shadows are so similar though that I think one of them could easily have been dropped. Shy and Bossy are warm toned transition shades-they're the best mattes in the palette and Flamingo swatches evenly but I just won't use it.
Let's skip ahead a little and talk about the pressed pearl shadows. Moondust is very blah-it's a quite a flat one dimensional yellow gold and it isn't very pigmented. Angelic is a lot more interesting-it's a pink/gold duochrome and this applies quite nicely when layered over a cream eyeshadow base-this makes the shade last longer and gives it a bit more pizzazz. On it's own it does look a little wishy washy so use something underneath to prime the eyelid. I'm wearing it here over a Bobbi Brown cream eyeshadow stick in Golden Pink with the shades Bossy and Shy blended into the crease. The pressed pearl shadow will last all day without creasing when used with a cream eyeshadow base but you can see from the first picture the crazy amount of fallout on my lashes from the shadow.
Ok let's talk about the 3D metal shadows because this is where it all starts to get a little weird.
I do love the names of this shadows. That's about all I love. When I swatched these I thought they were a really odd texture-almost wet and spongy but when I lifted my finger, the outer parts of where I had swatched were flaky and dry. They kind of feel like Colour Pop shadows but more dense in texture. Now, the Colour Pop shadows come packaged in a tightly sealed pot specifically to keep the air out of them and stop them drying up. If you're going to use this palette occasionally (and let's face it, this is not a daily use palette), I suspect these Metal shadows are going to dry out really quickly because they're not packaged the right way to keep the moisture in them. I could be wrong but that's my gut feeling. Having had this palette a week, the textured shadows already feel considerably drier than they did last week when I first swatched them.
These shadows are really textured-and by textured I mean chunky and flaky. Rose Gold, Trust Fund, Dubai and #Blessed are the worst for this at the moment. The smoothest by far is Fling but as a deep cranberry, how much usage will I realistically get from that shade? Rose Gold is actually the worst of them all-it's so dense it feels like a chunky paste-but none of them apply smoothly and cleanly to the lid-and I've tried my fingers (recommended), a dry brush and a brush sprayed with Fix Plus. I've tried them on bare skin, on a primer and on a cream eyeshadow base and they just look an uneven mess-with a lot of fallout. They also just look like they sit on the lid and don't blend well at all.
Overall I feel this is a confused palette. With 3 different textures, the inclusion of some really unwearable shades on a day to day basis, a texture that will dry out very quickly, an extremely warm tone to the palette and really drugstore packaging I almost struggle to look at this palette and think how did Huda approve this? I don't really understand the thought process behind it. I know this is her baby and she has probably invested thousands into developing it but part of my wonders how she even thought the packaging was in line with her brand let alone the contents.
I guess I just expected-and wanted more. I've lived in Dubai almost 12 years, there are amazingly inspirational entrepreneur women here and without doubt Huda is one of them. But for me this just doesn't work and I feel disappointed.
I'm really interested in your thoughts on this-have you tried it? Do you like it? Do you think when bad palettes are released the brand should stand up and say 'ok we got it wrong' like Becca/Jaclyn Hill did over the summer or should they stand by their conviction that this is the best thing since sliced bread?


Just like history, fashion repeats itself. Have you noticed your granddaughter sporting high-waisted flares similar to a pair you owned in the 1970s? Or have you seen dresses on the racks with sleeves just like the ones your mother wore in the 1940s? You're not imagining things. For decades, we've seen styles repeat themselves. Take a look at some of the current-day trends that you might recognize from days gone by as we explore fashion: then and now.
Scan nearly any current fashion blog or online shop, and you're sure to find many high-waisted options. The high-waisted trend for women was born out of practicality. In the 1930s, Levi's produced their first pair of jeans specifically for women – gone were the days when women had to borrow their husband's or brother's jeans! Thanks to the high rise of the jeans, women could bend down comfortably while still maintaining their modesty. While "hip huggers" (low-rise jeans) started to gain popularity in the 1960s, the high-waisted trend carried on strong until the 1990s (when the term mom jeans was coined). Although the trend took a brief hiatus, it's back with a fury, as many modern women find these jeans flattering on their hips and thighs. Women are also sporting high-waisted shorts and skirts these days.
In 1974, 26-year-old Diane von Furstenberg designed the iconic wrap dress (source). Little did she know, her contribution to the fashion industry would live on for years to come. Wrap dresses have a front closure and v-neck that is formed by wrapping either side of the garment around your body and knotting the attached ties buttons on either side. It flatters many different body types, which is likely why it's stood the test of time. This season, the popular brand Everlane introduced a wrap dress that got the attention of several media outlets in the fashion industry. For example, an article by The Cut shows what the dress looks like on six different women with varying body types.
1940s and 1950s: Puffed sleeves in the 1940s and 1950s appeared on dresses, sweaters, and blouses alike. These puffed sleeves were more round in nature to give off a feminine look, and they were moderate in size.
1970s: Puffed sleeves were commonly sheer and long during this timeframe, and cinched at the wrist. Some women could also be seen wearing Victorian-inspired blouses with lace details.
1980s: Designers in the 80s liked their sleeves just how they liked their hair: extra big and poofy.
Today: The trend is still going strong. However, current puffed sleeves are modest, often with subtle, tasteful pleats.
We hope you enjoyed looking back on fashion: then and now. If you want to explore more of the current trends, gather a group of friends and peruse online stores. See if you and your friends can name more ways that fashion is repeating itself!


text:
This legendary Emka
15.07.2018 12.05.2018 Categories Auto show
Soviet passenger car GAZ M-1. The giant car plant in Nizhny Novgorod, was built in a record short time – just three and a half years. Creating it was a result of the signing of the 31 May 1929 agreement between the US by Ford Motor Company and the Government of the USSR. And January 29, 1932 off the assembly line of the Nizhny Novgorod automobile plant (NAZ) came off the first half tons lorries license NAZ-AA (FORD-AA), and in December of the same year – and passenger cars GAZ-A (FORD-A). Let me remind you, the lorry with the acronym NAE released a few months on the radiator: in the same 1932 Nizhny Novgorod was renamed Gorky the city of the company, respectively, received the name of GAS – Gorky Automobile Plant named after Molotov and produce trucks GAZ-AA.
In October 1933, the chief designer of Gas was appointed a talented engineer A. A. Pipart, which together with designers of Gas Kostkina L. V., A. M. Krieger and Y. N. sorochkina began By designing domestic limousine (so called passenger car with a closed metal body) GAZ M-1.
Its prototype was the famous American FORD V8-40, however, the designers creative approach to designing new cars, making its design a lot of improvements. In particular, instead of Ford's transverse leaf springs they used longitudinal, more reliable in the conditions of Russian roads. The plant failed, however, to recreate the American engine — a /-shaped "eight" power of 65 HP; however, the company Henry Ford was not immediately able to bring the design of such a sophisticated engine to the requirements of mass production. Well, engineers on the Gas first had the basis of the power plant GAZ M-1 to take have already spent 40-HP engine from GAZ-A, which after modernization began to develop a power of 50 HP To do this, designers-minders have changed the timing, raised compression ratio of the working mixture to 4.6 units (GAS-AND this parameter was 4.2), increased by 0.8 mm valve lift, the expanded flow area of the channels in the carb, and upgraded lubrication systems and cooling. The result is enhanced engine began to disperse the car to 105 km/h.
The previous model GAZ-a was open body-Phaeton with folding canopy. New GAZ M-1 was much more comfortable: he had a five-seat all-metal closed body limousine. For the first time in domestic practice on the machine was applied contact-oil air filter, automatic ignition timing, and the adjustable driver's seat.
Experienced Assembly production cars M-1 (mark transcribed as "Molotove-1") began on the conveyor of the Gorky automobile plant March 15, 1936. Interestingly, the official name did not stick: the drivers called the car "Emka" or "emochka".
GAZ M-1 edition of 1936 with a 4-cylinder engine producing 50 HP
The first two cars of 17 March was delivered to the Kremlin — for the "higher" the approval of the leaders of the party and the Soviet government, According to witnesses, the inspection was generally favorable for the "Emka" — the car "blessed" for serial production. However, the people's Commissar of heavy industry Ordzhonikidze on 8 July 1936 NATI instructed to conduct a formal test of the three serial GAZ M-1: two cars had to go 30 000 km run, and another — to become the object of careful research and constructive improvements when defects are detected during the run of the first two machines. The changes to the design were made during the serial production. "M" could be considered only finally brought to an end in 1937.
The factory produced several versions of "Emka". After the limousine, the most popular was a pickup truck called GAZ M-415. Its front end, including the grille, the tail and the hood was unchanged borrowed from M-1, it was a used frame, engine and suspension. In the back of a pickup truck, is equipped with a removable tent could accommodate up to 400 kg of cargo, or to sit in the jump seats six passengers in addition to driver and passenger in the cockpit. Interestingly, during the Winter war in Finland, the pickups were widely used for transportation of military cargo.
In addition to civilian GAZ M-1 in 1936 was produced combat version of this car — the light armored car BA-20 with a 7.62 mm machine gun, retaining the family resemblance with the "civilian" as "Emka".
GAZ M-1 was a great base to develop various options of car. So, in 1938, was tested for gas-options "Emka". Machine installed instead the "spare tire" stove inflator of cylindrical shape up to 1,600 kg, power of motor is decreased from 50 to 37 S. L. in the Autumn of this year these cars were made a test run with a length of 5000 km. Maximum vehicle speed recorded during the run was 87 km/h, average speed about 60 km/h. However, these are not too high more than compensated by the availability of fuel — the engine required only a birch chock.
In April 1941, at the Gorky automobile plant was produced a pilot batch of five cars, the M-1 engine GAS-45, capable of working both on petrol and on gas. "Fuel tank" for the car served as a steel cylinder with a diameter of 325 mm and a length of 740 mm, which is filled under pressure, the propane-butane-propylene-butylene gas mixture.
Geometric scheme of the GAZ M-1
layout of the chassis of the car GAZ M-1
Car GAZ-11-73 issue of 1940 6-cylinder engine producing 76 HP
four-wheel drive car GAZ-61-40 production in 1941 with a 6-cylindrowym engine producing 76 HP with a body "Phaeton"
Geometric scheme of the car GAZ-11-73
Layout all-wheel drive car GAZ-61-73
In the process of operation of the GAZ M-1 it was found that the capacity of the 50-strong motor still is not enough to machine a mass of 1370 kg. Gas was deployed to work on the development of serial production of American 6-cylinder engine, which received at the car called the GAZ-11. According to its technical characteristics this motor in the end of 1930 years was at the level of the latest achievements of the American automotive equipment — it was lightweight, compact and economical. Designer N. G. Maskin reworked his drawings from inch to metric system of measurement. I must say that the engine GAZ-11 was not an exact copy of the American prototype: Written by N. R. under the guidance of A. A. Lipgart has made many structural changes in the American original.
It is interesting that the engine GAZ-11 had a long life not only on upgraded "emok", but on the truck GAZ-MM, post-war GAZ-51, GAZ-63 and GAZ-12, buses PAZ-651 and even on light tanks and self-propelled guns. With the engine GAZ-11 was produced army snowmobiles and even airplanes — for the latter has been developed by aviation — induced and light-weight modification of this motor.
Of the engine GAZ-11 for serial production was completed mostly in March 1940. From this time began the release of the upgraded "Emka" GAZ-11-73 (limousine) with the new 6-cylinder engine with a capacity of 76 or 85 HP and a displacement of 3,485 L. Notice that the first value of the power had an engine with cast iron pistons, and the second from aluminum.
The car GAZ-11-73 differed from its predecessor — it had a more modern grille, additional louvers on the hood, an updated instrument panel, polycentrality clutch mechanism and improved shock absorbers. The suspension is equipped with stabilizer bar.
In addition to the limousine was produced and the Phaeton GAS-11-40 — car folding tent, intended mainly for exploitation in the southern parts of the country, as well as pickup GAZ-11-415.
Another well-known veterans, veterans modification of the legendary "Emka" is a comfortable four-wheel drive vehicle-terrain vehicle. Technical specification for design was issued in late July 1938, and already in September under the leadership of chief designer V. A. Grachev began a design study of the car has received an index "61".
The task was quite complex — in the shortest possible time for the machine was to create a leading front axle and the transfer case. In January 1939 were prepared working drawings, and already on 10 June the same year, the car, called the GAZ-61-40 (Phaeton), were transferred to the test. It should be noted that the running of the machine and, most importantly, its throughput surpassed the wildest expectations of designers. Four-wheel drive, large capacity motor, increased gear ratios in the transmission, tyres with special profile and raised 150 mm frame allowed the vehicle is climbing a slope to 43 degrees, wading depth of 0.82 m, and snow height of about 0.4 m. the Machine is not stuck even on eroded arable land and could tow a trailer weighing up to 700 kg GAZ-61-40 could move through a log with a diameter of 0.37 m, and even to climb up a quite steep staircase.
Serial production of the GAZ-61 was deployed in 1941. It was supposed to produce 500 of these vehicles for command staff of the red Army (mostly of the limousine GAZ-61-73), however, the order was not fully implemented — the war intervened. Leading designer of GAZ-61 V. A. Grachev for the development of vehicle-ATV in 1942 he was awarded the Stalin prize.
In the 1930-ies of the cars door was often opened against the direction of traffic. Was no exception to this rule and "emochka"
the driver of the GAZ M-1
a radiator Grille GAZ M-1
spare wheel Cover GAZ M-1
By the way, the army was required not only "emka"-all-terrain vehicles, but it is a "civilian" M GAZ-1 and GAZ-11, so at the Gorky automobile plant a lot of civilian cars were produced in the protective coating — before the great Patriotic war in the army there were over 10 thousand of these machines.
In late 1941, issue of "emok" Gas was stopped; it resumed only in 1945. Until 1948 the cars were produced in parallel with the "victories", the serial production of which began in July 1946.
Family car GAZ M-1
The creation at the Gorky automobile plant confortable and very modern (of course, for its time) car GAZ M-1 was the beginning of production on the basis of several modifications: pickups GAZ M-415 and GAZ-11-415, passenger car GAZ-11 (Phaeton with an index of "40" and a limousine with an index of 73) and all-wheel drive car of the raised passableness, the GAZ-61 (also with the codes "40" and "73"). The last three models were equipped with 6-cylinder engine GAZ-11.
All the cars are close both in design and in appearance. They have the same wings, lined with grooved rubber foot pegs, body (except Phaeton GAZ-11-40 truck GAZ-415). The same and enclosed in the metal frame windshields, which are hand-raised forward-upward with the rotary arm above the dashboard.
The middle part of the roof to save metal were sewn leatherette over wood frame. The spare wheel was attached to the rear of the car, outside, in a special metal case.
The only rear red lamp to the left side. The sidelights mounted on front wings, had a glazed white. Window glass was safe — type triplex. The only wiper blade is installed only on the left.
Technical characteristics of cars GAZ M-1
Inner frame Windows and the instrument panel is trimmed with simulated wood valuable species. On the panel on the left is the speedometer, right is the instrument of the ammeter, fuel gauge and pressure gauge indicating the pressure in the lubrication system of the engine. Interior and seats are covered with woolen cloth light brown or gray color.
I. EVSTRATOV
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THE PURPOSE OF AFFECTS… LIGHT
LINKAGE-"AUTOMATIC"

redpajama_set_name: RedPajamaCommonCrawl


Monday 26.03.18, I'm too tired! – Disciple Life – Living the MIRACULOUS life: you can have it too!!!
Monday 26e of March, time to go home. We had had a great time at Edinburgh and people were trained and were ready to take a lead when there would be an official TLR-kickstart organised at Edinburgh.
Due to bad weather I had to spend more than 3 hours extra in Amsterdam Schiphol. An excellent opportunity to approach people and ask them how they felt and if I could pray for them when they had any pain. I did this for more than one hour but became too tired so I sat down with a big coffee and something to eat. I noticed that I still needed to wait for another 2 hours on my next flight and said to God; "pfff, God I gave all my energy in the Edinburgh kickstart (see last post) I'm done! I like to do this but I'm too tired now, please send some people to me, I'm too tired to go out and search them myself!" Anyway my voice started to hurt so I was thinking; yeah, maybe God is in a way telling me just to relax and have a break. I said: "Ok God, it's up to you now". I believe God wants US to go out on the harvest field and not just open the barn and shout to the harvest to come in by itself. I believe "we" are the ones who have to go and bring the harvest in, but now I was too tired. So I just sat down, drank my coffee and ate my diner as I read my bible.
2 hours passed by and I started the boarding proces. Once in the plane I had to sit next to a guy that I had also seen in the Edinburgh airport. I started the conversation and long story short, this guy came from a missionary family and was more than happy to hear my stories. He has had some difficulties and had to find his own way because you can't inherit faith from your parents. It has to become your own experience. I believe your parents can help you in the start with taking the right decisions but you can't live on that. You'll ultimately have to make your own choice. Your parents can give you a push out of the nest but you have to fly yourself.
What a nice encounter! I told him what I had done in Edinburgh and showed him how to explain the gospel in a visual way (the cups). Atti (not his real name) was happy to hear this and told me that he really found this a very clear way to present the gospel! I showed him how I prayed for the sick by giving him an example "I just put my hand on the shoulder or anywhere there is pain and command the pain to go". So I had put my hand on his shoulder and had commanded all pain to leave (as an example) but I didn't now that he had pain just on the place were I laid my hand. Atti said that all the pain in his shoulder was gone after I showed him this example. He still had some pain in his neck so I asked him if I could pray for that too. "Of course". After two prayers all pain was gone. Hallelujah! What an example to show Atti how to pray for people with pain. Also nice for him to see that the power is in "the name of Jesus" not in anything that I had done because I didn't know that he had pain at that place. I had to think back on my friend in Belgium were I had done just the same thing. (Showing him how I prayed for the sick by giving him an example and by accident healing his pain). I told him that I would connect him with some disciples who were living close to his home. I had to think on Otto and Teemu who lived in Helsinki and could kickstart Atti.
Hallelujah! God had answered my prayer in an amazing way! What a God we serve!!


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Brandies from the Armangnac region of France have a distinct flavour of fruit and tend to be softer and rounder than those from the Cognac region.


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2 nightsAKAROA
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3 nightsQUEENSTOWN
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2 nightsAHURIRI VALLEY
Next up is the beautiful Ahuriri Valley and The Lindis, which is one of our favourite luxury lodges in New Zealand, in one of the country's most spectacular settings. Enjoy the very highest standards of luxury, gourmet cuisine and supreme views while discovering the valley on scenic treks, horse rides, e-bike rides and buggy adventures, before returning for some stargazing in the vast night skies.
3 nightsKAIKOURA
Your next stop is the pretty town of Kaikoura, on the east coast of the South Island, which has a beautiful mountain and sea setting. It is also one of New Zealand's premium marine life sites – keep an eye out for whales, dolphins, seals and penguins, and this is also a favoured spot of seabirds such as petrels and albatrosses, which you'll see swooping over the water. Go swimming with the dolphins (something that is on a lot of people's bucket lists), or surf in the bay, and back on land, hike on the Kaikoura Wilderness Walkway through the Puhl Peaks Nature Reserve and the alps of the Seaward Kaikoura mountains, and take a picnic to savour while taking in the views.
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3 nightsBAY OF ISLANDS
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Jan-Mar , Nov-Dec
The Lindis
Location: Otago & The Southern Alps | New Zealand
Price guide: £££££ £350-£500 per person per night
Best for: Landscapes & Scenery, Chic Design, Off the Beaten Track, Adventure
Hapuku Lodge & Tree Houses
Location: Christchurch, Kaikoura & Canterbury District | New Zealand
Best for: Setting & Views, Chic Design, Eco-tourism, Family-friendly
Huka Lodge
Location: Coromandel & Waikato | New Zealand
Price guide: £££££ More than £500 per person per night
Best for: Honeymoon, Lodge, Luxury Hotel, Peace & Quiet
The Farm at Cape Kidnappers
Location: Hawkes Bay | New Zealand
Best for: Seriously special, Setting & Views, Hideaway, Service & Hospitality
Best for: Setting & Views, Hideaway, Seriously special, Chic Design
The Lodge at Kauri Cliffs
Location: Auckland, Bay of Islands & Northland | New Zealand
Best for: Beach, Luxury Hotel, Setting & Views, Spa & Wellness
Matakauri Lodge
Best for: Lodge, Luxury Hotel, Service & Hospitality, Setting & Views
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Mercy Magnified
'The Curse...And the Number of his Name'
Have you ever experienced a moment of shocking revelation that left you trembling and breathless? I am still reeling with the possible implications of a discovery I made yesterday while continuing my study in Zechariah. A little background information will help set the stage...
It was September 11, 2001. The morning dawned bright and clear. Robin's egg skies provided the perfect backdrop for a small grove of moss covered oak trees at the northwest corner of the garden. Squirrels scampered about, harvesting the last of the wild hazelnuts. With the kids at school and Henry at the office, the house was quiet. I grabbed my Bible and settled into the overstuffed chair in the living room, enjoying the dappled sunlight. I happened to be reading through Zechariah chapter 5:
"Again I lifted my eyes and saw, and behold, a flying scroll. And he said to me, 'What do you see?' I answered, 'I see a flying scroll...' Then he said to me, 'This is the 'curse' that goes out over the face of the whole land...'
The word 'curse' caught my attention. Being a language person, I decided to research the word in the original Hebrew. There are at least eight different Hebrew words which are translated as 'curse' in English. Nevertheless, I was astounded to find the Hebrew word 'alah' (pronounced allah) translated in that passage as 'curse'.
Within an hour of reading this passage I would learn of the attacks in New York City.
Fast forward to yesterday, January 19, 2016. Once again I was reading through Zechariah chapter five, this time sitting at my desk enjoying quite a different view...
I came to the same verse..."I see a flying scroll...This is the curse (alah) that goes out over the whole land..." The use of that particular Hebrew word could NOT have been a coincidence! I began to speculate. Could this 'curse' be the prophesied spread of radical Islam in the last days? Day after day we witness heinous and barbaric crimes committed in the name of Allah! I read several older commentaries looking for confirmation of my theory, but found none. They were written in a different generation, in an earlier, less tumultuous era. The horrific events of today were not yet in the authors' frames of reference.
I decided to do a quick search online, just in case I wasn't the only one struck by this irony. What I found nearly knocked me off my chair. I was confronted with the phrase 'In the name of Allah' in Arabic script:
This image sent shock waves through me...BECAUSE it immediately brought to mind another image which I had studied very carefully several years ago. Below is a photo of two images compared...the first "In the name of Allah" in Arabic...the second is the number 666 in the Greek!
"This calls for wisdom: let the one who has understanding calculate the number of the beast, for it is the number of a man, and his number is 666."
(Revelation 13:18)
Post Script: For those who may not know, the Greeks (like the Romans) did not have numerals, but used the letters of their alphabet to represent numbers. Hence, 'the number of his name' means nothing more than initials.
The Waking Nightmare of Oblivion
Settling down to sleep last night was a struggle. Checking the news before bed is not the best somnolent. The headlines from last night's perusal of the latest news included the following...(please bear with me)
"Starvation suspected in massive die-off of Alaska seabirds..."
"Carcasses littering beaches for miles" on Pacific coast of Alaska..."
"Off the charts..."
"Unprecedented..."
"We're looking at...possibly a good chunk of the population..."
(Associated Press)
"Thousands of dead birds are washing up on the shores of Whittier (Alaska)...
it's a major event and it's difficult to see..."
(KTVA Alaska)
"Starving and unable to fly...too weak to breed..."
(Alaska Dispatch News)
"Seabird die-offs have been recorded all along the Wets Coast of the U.S. in Washington, Oregon and California this year..."
"Record number of seals and sea lions sicken and starve"
The Marine Mammal Center in Sausalito (outside San Francisco)...began to realize something was different early in the year. Volunteers began bringing in distressed sea lion pups last January...they were basically just skin and bones..."
(Al Jazeera America)
So far in 2016, in the space of 14 days the world has witnessed 19 Mass Die-off Events! Here are some of the worst:
100+ Whales stranded, 45 dead on the Tamil coast of India
100+ TONS of fish die is Viet Nam
Tens of thousands of dead starfish and jellyfish wash up along Sussex and Hampshire
40,000 cattle killed in storm in Texas and New Mexico
I know this must seem like morbid fascination, but I have been following the trend of mass animal deaths since the Fukushima earthquake in March of 2011...for almost five years now.
Most people are oblivious to the fact that 200,000+ TONS
of radioactive water from the damaged nuclear facility at Fukushima
continue to pour into the Pacific Ocean EVERY DAY!
Below is a summary of mass deaths (well documented with links to news sources as well as photos) for the past few years:
2015 - 828 mass death events in 96 countries
WHY IS THIS KEEPING ME AWAKE AT NIGHT???
I had to ask myself this question as I lay awake last night! With all the manufactured hype about 'global warming' and 'climate change', one would think the death of millions upon millions (if not billions) of sea creatures would be BIG NEWS! The deafening silence is peculiar at best!
What could possibly be the reason for the lack of coverage
of this catastrophe by the mainstream media???
As I sought the Lord, a dark realization settled over me...
Prophecy fulfilled is one of the greatest
testimonies to the truth of the Bible!
The enemy will suppress any information that leads
to the knowledge of he Truth!
Both Hosea (750 BC) and John (Revelation) prophesied the last days destruction of the living creature in the sea (and birds):
"Hear the word of the Lord...
For the Lord has a controversy with the inhabitants of the land.
There is no faithfulness or steadfast love,
And no knowledge of God in the land;
There is swearing, lying, murder, stealing, and committing adultery,
They break all bounds and bloodshed follows bloodshed.
Therefore the land mourns and all who dwell in it languish,
And also the beasts of the field and the birds of the heavens,
And even the fish of the sea are taken away."
(Hosea 4:1-3)
"The second angel blew his trumpet, and something like a great mountain burning with fire was thrown into the sea, and a third of the sea became blood. A third of the living creatures in the sea died..."
(Revelation 8:8-9)
Friends, the trumpet has sounded! The signs we are seeing are but an extension of God's great hand of mercy before the coming judgment.
Bear witness to the facts.
Share the Scriptures.
Do the work of Him who sent you before it's too late.
The harvest is plentiful, but the workers are few.
This past week I met with my dear friend, Tammy Knox. I'm not sure what prompted a reading of this post, but in light of the events of the past year, it was especially meaningful. Take heart, beloved, if you have been tattered and torn in standing for the Truth of God's Word! You are not alone. The Bridegroom awaits... (7 May 2017)
By the way, if you are so inclined, look up the meaning of the white rose.
I awakened several times this morning in the midst of a chaotic and disturbing dream. Each time I awoke, I breathed a sigh of relief, as I realized I had only been dreaming. Each time I drifted back to sleep however, the dream continued. At last it seemed to be at an end. I knew I must get up and record what I could recall of the dream. It seemed somehow too persistent and symbolic to simply be a 'normal' dream...
It was a nightmare really, but not your classic nightmare. I will write quickly, as some of the details are fading…
I found myself in the midst of preparations for a wedding of great magnitude and importance. A venue had been constructed specifically for the purpose of this wedding. No expense had been spared. The building was massive, but without walls, and open to the outside. The towering staircase in the center was precisely constructed of perfectly polished marble, but strangely the color of the marble, as well as the style of architecture seemed to change randomly as I descended from one level to another. In and of themselves the components were exquisite, but viewed together, a tacky mish-mash. There seemed to be no cohesive design.
When I reached the bottom of the staircase a few guests were beginning to arrive. I noticed a table upon which random decorations had been placed. A few flowers lay in boxes. I knew I had to put together a bridal bouquet, but the blossoms were leggy and did not fit together well. I simply could not manage an acceptable arrangement. Almost despairing, I found a single white rose, thinking to myself, "This is not adequate for such a momentous occasion, but it will have to do."
On the table, in the jumbled heap of decorations I also noticed an unopened box of brand new, brightly colored lanterns, and wondered if they were for the bridesmaids to carry. Then I realized I hadn't seen the bridesmaids…they should have been here by now! And where was the Bride???
No seating had been arranged, so the guests were milling about amongst a large cast of strange characters who seemed to think they had some part in the wedding ceremony. I looked at the clock and saw that it was five minutes before five o'clock…only five minutes to go!
Strange music began to play, it was unfamiliar and barely audible. Then, out of the corner of my eye just to the right, I saw a garishly dressed woman, cavorting about…attracting attention to herself. 'Is that the Bride?' I wondered. Then another provocative woman rose to the forefront, capturing the attention of the unsettled guests. This continued, while all around us something akin to a carnival, or a pantomime was taking place. I was horrified, realizing that a mockery was being made of a sacred occasion.
Then I saw her. The Bride appeared some distance away. No one attended her, sadly no one seemed to even notice she had arrived. Relieved, I ran to meet her and help in any way I could. As I approached, I noticed she was dressed in a glorious white gown, fitting for the occasion. Somehow it seemed right that she would carry a single white rose. I looked more closely then, and saw that her beautifully styled hair was looking misshapen and bedraggled, wisps falling down here and there. I tried to re-pin it (I am no expert in hair) and saw that her once lustrous tresses were thinning. This Bride had struggled and suffered in waiting for her Groom…
As I awakened the last time, I felt impressed to reflect upon the dream and to write it down. I also noticed that a long-forgotten Michael Card song had sprung to life from somewhere in the distant past, and was now playing in my head:
"Hallelujah, hallelujah!
Salvation and honor and glory belong to our God
See now, the one who corrupted the earth is condemned!
Death for the dark adulteress
Destroyed at last forever
By His judgments just and true
He has avenged the blood of His saints…
The wedding of the Lamb has come
The Bride has made herself ready
And she shall wear linen bright and clean
Woven of the faithful acts of the saints…"
(From 'Hallelujah', Unveiled Hope; Michael Card 1997)
Zechariah...'Whom Jehovah Remembers'
"For behold, the day is coming, burning like an oven, when all the arrogant and all evildoers will be stubble. The day that is coming shall set them ablaze, says the Lord of hosts, so that it will leave them neither root nor branch. But for you who fear my Name, the sun of righteousness shall rise with healing in its wings..." Malachi 4:1-2
Sunrise over Copinsay
I will never forget the ongoing argument I had with the Lord over these verses. It was December 2004, and Henry and I had just celebrated the official grand opening of Sunrise Medical Campus. I had been asking the Lord for a passage of Scripture to share in the small glass-covered information box mounted to the left of the Chapel door. As I listened, I sensed God was prompting me to post the above passage, but I could not bring myself to post it. Didn't these verses seem a bit harsh, even offensive? Perhaps I could simply post verse 2??? The box remained empty for more than a month...
Then, on December 26th we awoke to the news of a catastrophic earthquake and tsunami in Indonesia. As I was reeling at the magnitude of the disaster and countless souls lost, God spoke sternly to me: 'Mercy and judgment go together!' Though it may seem harsh, it is always merciful to sound the warning before judgment falls.
"How then will they call on Him in whom they have not believed?
And how are they to believe in Him of whom they have never heard?
And how are they to hear without someone preaching?"
(Romans 10:14)
I posted the passage, reminding myself...Mercy and judgment... Judgment and mercy...
For the past several weeks I felt impressed upon to study the writings of the minor prophet, Zechariah. Once again, I have procrastinated. After all, it was CHRISTMAS, the season for 'tidings of comfort and joy!' Didn't the Lord know I was busy shopping and wrapping and baking???
But alas, Christmas is over. The New Year has begun. I finally sit down with my Bible, opening to the book of Zechariah....
It is early spring in the year 519 BC. After seventy years in Babylon, the first wave of exiles has returned to Jerusalem, to rebuild the House of the Lord. The altar has been constructed and set in its place. Sacrificial offerings are made as required by the Law of Moses. Though opposition from the locals was intense, the foundation of the Temple is completed at last! Exuberant celebration ensues! Trumpets blare, cymbals crash, and the remnant of God's people shout and sing:
"Give thanks to the Lord, for He is good. His steadfast love endures forever!"
Like many of those present, a young man named Zechariah (the grandson of a prominent priest) had known only a life of captivity. He revels in the moment as he witnesses God's promise fulfilled, thinking of his father, who had only dreamed of this day...
The noise of the festivities can be heard from a great distance! Unsettled, the adversaries of Judah soon begin to step up their efforts to stop the rebuilding. Reacting to carefully crafted misinformation, the king orders construction of the Temple to stop. The committed remnant is now confused, intimidated and discouraged. Their focus gradually begins to shift. Time, energy and resources are devoted to personal matters. Homes are embellished, gardens are planted, and farmers sow their seed in freshly plowed fields. It seems their efforts are wasted however, as drought descends upon the land. Seedlings shrivel in the dust and God sends a warning through the prophet Haggai:
"Is it a time for you to dwell in your paneled houses while this house lies in ruins?
You have sown much and harvested little...
you eat, but never have enough and drink, but never have your fill...
BECAUSE MY HOUSE LIES IN RUINS!"
Without much of an introduction, the Lord also begins speaking to Zechariah:
"I was very angry with your fathers!"
Perhaps Zechariah glances at the ruins that had once been Jerusalem...the rubble was a compelling testimony to his ancestors' unrelenting rebellion against God...
"Return to me, says the Lord of Hosts..."
"and I will return to you."
Zechariah's heart is broken up like the fallow ground in nearby fields! His ancestors ignored the merciful warnings of the prophets before him, and horrible judgment had overtaken them. He is determined NOT to follow in their footsteps! Repentant and humbled, he is now ready for the planting of the Lord...the first of eight Messianic visions would soon follow...
It has oft been said, that those who do not study history are doomed to repeat it. What can I learn from this encounter with Haggai, Zechariah and their fellow countrymen? A passage from 1 Corinthians comes to mind:
"But let each one take care (pay attention!) how he builds upon it.
For no one can lay a foundation other than that which is laid,
which is Jesus Christ.
Now if anyone builds on the foundation with gold, silver and precious stones,
wood, hay, straw--each one's work will become manifest (made public!),
For the Day will disclose it (literally 'peel it like an onion'),
Because it will be revealed (apokalupto-the cover removed) by fire,
And the fire will test (examine and discern) what sort of work each one has done.
If the work anyone has built on the foundation survives,
he will receive a reward.
If anyone's work is burned up,
he will suffer loss,
Though he himself will be saved, but only as through fire.
Do you not know that you are God's temple???"
(1 Corinthians 3:10-16)
In laying down His life for my sin, Jesus laid the foundation for a new life! I am expected to build on that foundation...and challenged to build a life suitable for habitation by God Himself! I have to ask myself a few questions:
1. Am I building? Or have I become distracted, intimidated or discouraged?
2. Is Christ my true foundation, or am I trying to build in my own strength?
3. Am I building to last? Am I giving my best, or just building for show?
4. What will my work look like when the layers are peeled back on the Day of the Lord?
5. Am I laboring for things that will burn up in an instant, or for eternal reward?
6. Is my life a visible expression of gratitude for the foundation I have in Christ Jesus?
May the word of the Lord to Zechariah ring for us throughout the New Year:
"Return to Me...and I will return to you!"
Anne Reitzug
Sojourner. Servant. Recipient of undeserved Grace. Worshiper.


first we met up at caltex at about 8am. we got there at 10am, ngam ngam hou all the malls and shops just opened and there weren't that many people yet. we went to IKEA to shop for furniture first, abd stayed there till 12pm. We ate lunch at ROBOT SUSHI at 1UTAMA. damn nice!! even watched kungfu panda 2. Had a nice, long, funny chat with everyone. We went back to the Curve to do some shopping after that.
went back to 1UTAMA to shop for MORE things then we went to IPC. We ate donuts and enjoyed the wif at starbucks :) bought another shirt at Borders Outlet (navy blue XD).
After IPC, we headed YET AGAIN to 1UTAMA to shop and to have our dinner. We ate at DAVE'S and 2 waiters there were Filipino!! ^^ There was even a live band playing songs like the Lazy Song and Soul Sister :) bought Cinabonns afterwards, coffee for my dad, lemonade for my sis and we were ready to go HOME.


Growing up in Newark, NJ, Anthony Frasier is an an author, entrepreneur, and public speaker. Possessing a love for technology and video games at an early age, Anthony would eventually become one of the founders of The Phat Startup and Tech 808 conference prior to being named entrepreneur in residence at Newark Venture Partners.
Currently, Anthony is principal at his own company, ABF Creative. In addition to releasing his own book entitled, Don't Dumb Down Your Greatness: A Young Entrepreneur's Guide to Thinking & Being Great, Anthony has also had the opportunity to work with brands such as AT&T, Audible, and BET.
Listen here: SoundCloud and iTunes.
What did you think? Send us a tweet!


text:
Q: What are the requirement for smooth voice chat with Skype? In our country, Internet is very expensive. In comparison to that, I have a fair Internet connection. However, I experience choppy sound, lagging, etc. when making voice calls using Skype.
I use a linux machine. I close all other browser activities, chat and run only skype voice. In my bandwidth monitor, I see about 128 kilobits per second is used. Thats 16KB/sec. However I have  128KB/sec connection. It's a direct fibre to home connection. Latency to google is 90ms during skype voice, much less other times.
What could be the problem? Isn't this internet connection adequate? Note the fibre connection is directly inserted to my LAN card via ONU, no other devices in the middle.

redpajama_set_name: RedPajamaStackExchange


The British and French graphic novelists will reflect upon their careers in comics from the 1970s to the present day in an event that will be held at 2 Granary Wharf, London on 12th April.
An award-winning cartoonist and pioneering publisher of bandes dessinées, Florence Cestac is the only woman to win the Angoulême Festival's Grand Prix in over forty years. A past Grand Prix nominee herself, Posy Simmonds is much loved for her Guardian strips, notably Gemma Bovery and Tamara Drewe, both adapted into films.
You can find out more about this event on the House of Illustration website.
Riad Sattouf's interview with The Guardian's Rachel Cooke can be read here.
Some fascinating insights into the working methods of the master, Ronald Searle, from a man who spent a decade studying and collecting the great man's art.
Matt Jones, who has developed a reputation of his own as a story artist working in animation, says Searle is often described as "one of the greatest graphic satirists of the twentieth century". Very few would argue with that description.
Matt Jones' 'Ronald Searle's America' is available for purchase here.
Observer cartoonist and children's laureate Chris Riddell casts his experienced eye over the best the continent has to offer in this roundup of their humorous views on our upcoming referendum and its possible repercussions.
Ten cartoons, including one by Chris Riddell himself, can be viewed here on The Guardian website.
A new exhibition at the Hunterian Gallery, University of Glasgow traces the history of the medium and its ties to the city, from 1825's Glasgow Looking Glass to modern master Frank Quietly.
There are a number of ancillary events all the way up to the Glasgow ComicCon and Festival in the summer.
William L M Rudling is a caricaturist, cartoonist, illustrator and designer. He studied at Manchester College of Art and since graduating has exhibited at many galleries, both here and abroad.
His publishing credits include UNICEF, Downbeat Jazz Magazine, USA Start to Play books for children, the Youth Sports Trust and Ravensburger Jigsaws.
For the last twenty years William has been responsible for the design of panto posters and other publicity material for York Theatre Royal and projects for the English Sports Council and its Welsh counterpart.
As if all that wasn't enough, he was one of four finalists in the BBC programme, Material World, 'So You Want To Be A Scientist?' 2012 challenge on Radio Four.
To see more of William's work visit his PCO portfolio page here.
The Political Cartoon Gallery's next exhibition, 'On the Right lines: celebrating 50 years of cartoons in the Daily Telegraph' is to be opened by the world-renowned historian and former Daily Telegraph editor, Sir Max Hastings. The exhibition covers the political scene of the last fifty years since Nick Garland's first cartoon appeared in March 1966 in the Daily Telegraph.
The exhibition will be open to the public from Thursday 17 March until Saturday 4 June. It will include original cartoon artwork by all those cartoonists who have worked or still work for the Daily Telegraph, such as Nick Garland, Richard Cole, Mathew Pritchett 'Matt', John Jenson (Sunday Telegraph) Patrick Blower, Bob Moran and Christian Adams.
Find out more about The Political Gallery by visiting the website here.
William Heath Robinson (1872-1944) is a household name, renowned for his superbly crafted cartoons and illustrations depicting ingenious and ridiculously over-complicated machines and inventions. His painstakingly detailed work is a joy to behold and will be on show in 'The Inventive Art of William Heath Robinson' from 16th March to 9th April.
Opening tomorrow (9th) and running until 19th March are the vivid imaginings of political cartoonist Paul Thomas in 'An Unreliable History of Tattoos'.
To find out more about these exhibitions visit the Chris Beetles gallery website here.
In recognition of this calendar event Zainab Akhtar has selected ten cartoonists (including British artist Tula Lotay) to highlight the quality and variety of work being produced by women today.
To see their work and learn more about the ten artists visit the A.V. Club website.


text:
<?php

/**
 * @file
 * Contains \Drupal\system\Tests\Entity\EntityAutocompleteTest.
 */

namespace Drupal\system\Tests\Entity;

use Drupal\Component\Serialization\Json;
use Drupal\Component\Utility\SafeMarkup;
use Drupal\Component\Utility\Tags;
use Drupal\system\Controller\EntityAutocompleteController;
use Symfony\Component\HttpFoundation\Request;

/**
 * Tests the autocomplete functionality.
 *
 * @group Entity
 */
class EntityAutocompleteTest extends EntityUnitTestBase {

  /**
   * The entity type used in this test.
   *
   * @var string
   */
  protected $entityType = 'entity_test';

  /**
   * The bundle used in this test.
   *
   * @var string
   */
  protected $bundle = 'entity_test';

  /**
   * Tests autocompletion edge cases with slashes in the names.
   */
  function testEntityReferenceAutocompletion() {
    // Add an entity with a slash in its name.
    $entity_1 = entity_create($this->entityType, array('name' => '10/16/2011'));
    $entity_1->save();

    // Add another entity that differs after the slash character.
    $entity_2 = entity_create($this->entityType, array('name' => '10/17/2011'));
    $entity_2->save();

    // Add another entity that has both a comma and a slash character.
    $entity_3 = entity_create($this->entityType, array('name' => 'label with, and / test'));
    $entity_3->save();

    // Try to autocomplete a entity label that matches both entities.
    // We should get both entities in a JSON encoded string.
    $input = '10/';
    $data = $this->getAutocompleteResult($input);
    $this->assertIdentical($data[0]['label'], SafeMarkup::checkPlain($entity_1->name->value), 'Autocomplete returned the first matching entity');
    $this->assertIdentical($data[1]['label'], SafeMarkup::checkPlain($entity_2->name->value), 'Autocomplete returned the second matching entity');

    // Try to autocomplete a entity label that matches the first entity.
    // We should only get the first entity in a JSON encoded string.
    $input = '10/16';
    $data = $this->getAutocompleteResult($input);
    $target = array(
      'value' => $entity_1->name->value . ' (1)',
      'label' => SafeMarkup::checkPlain($entity_1->name->value),
    );
    $this->assertIdentical(reset($data), $target, 'Autocomplete returns only the expected matching entity.');

    // Try to autocomplete a entity label that matches the second entity, and
    // the first entity  is already typed in the autocomplete (tags) widget.
    $input = $entity_1->name->value . ' (1), 10/17';
    $data = $this->getAutocompleteResult($input);
    $this->assertIdentical($data[0]['label'], SafeMarkup::checkPlain($entity_2->name->value), 'Autocomplete returned the second matching entity');

    // Try to autocomplete a entity label with both a comma and a slash.
    $input = '"label with, and / t';
    $data = $this->getAutocompleteResult($input);
    $n = $entity_3->name->value . ' (3)';
    // Entity labels containing commas or quotes must be wrapped in quotes.
    $n = Tags::encode($n);
    $target = array(
      'value' => $n,
      'label' => SafeMarkup::checkPlain($entity_3->name->value),
    );
    $this->assertIdentical(reset($data), $target, 'Autocomplete returns an entity label containing a comma and a slash.');
  }

  /**
   * Returns the result of an Entity reference autocomplete request.
   *
   * @param string $input
   *   The label of the entity to query by.
   *
   * @return mixed
   *  The JSON value encoded in its appropriate PHP type.
   */
  protected function getAutocompleteResult($input) {
    $request = Request::create('entity_reference_autocomplete/' . $this->entityType . '/default');
    $request->query->set('q', $input);

    $entity_reference_controller = EntityAutocompleteController::create($this->container);
    $result = $entity_reference_controller->handleAutocomplete($request, $this->entityType, 'default')->getContent();

    return Json::decode($result);
  }

}

redpajama_set_name: RedPajamaGithub