Nunca esquecemos onde tudo começou, ganhei de natal, do Papai Noel hehe a febre do momento, tinha 6 anos quando ganhei o Atari e até hoje, passando por vários consoles, não largo essa paixão que tenho pelos jogos. Podem falar mau, dizer que é bobagem, besteria, não ajuda uma pessoa socialmente etc.. não ligo para essas coisas até por que os fatos justificam os meios e os jogos, hoje em dia, estão quase chegando ao patamar do cinema e até ajudando as pessoas da terceira idade.

Mas, deixando a história de lado, trago hoje uma notícia muito maneira, a Atari colocou a disposição 6 jogos clássicos da época, são eles:

• Adventure
• Asteroids
• Battlezone
• Crystal Castles
• Lunar Lander
• Yar’s Revenge

E pode ser jogado Online, pelo Flash..

Matem a saudade desses clássico, que eu jogo até hoje. Acreditem, eu ainda jogo “Keystone Kappers” o famoso “Pega Ladrão”.

Site: Atari

As every family knows, the old homestead can accumulate a lot of stuff over the years.

And then you have to do something about it.

That time has come for Beverly-Grant, the second-generation, family-owned business in Asheville that is the largest general contractor in Western North Carolina. Its warehouse is bursting at the seams and in order to free up some much needed space, it has scheduled a giant yard sale for Dec. 5.

“Our company has been in business for over 50 years and naturally we have accumulated a lot of excess construction materials and tools over that time,” a company spokesman said. “We are selling items that might be of use to other builders.”

Building materials and tools for sale include lumber, lighting, trim, brick, block, tile, trailers, saws, fasteners, slate, and more. You can see pictures here.

You may recognize Beverly-Grant from some of its work. It designed and built the Laurel Park Medical Centre in Hendersonville and CBS featured one of Beverly-Grant’s current projects, CooperRiis Wellness Center, on a recent Sunday Morning News show. The business is a member of the Western North Carolina Green Building Council.

The construction warehouse sale will be 7 a.m. – 2 p.m. Saturday, Dec. 5th, at 92 Thompson Street in Asheville.

Prague Castle is a castle in Prague where the Czech kings, Holy Roman Emperors and presidents of Czechoslovakia and the Czech Republic have had their offices. The Czech Crown Jewels are kept here. Prague Castle is one of the biggest castles in the world (according to Guinness Book of Records the biggest ancient castle) at about 570 meters in length and an average of about 130 meters wide.

Małopolska is a voivodeship in southern Poland with capital in Kraków.

Check out Castles of the World at  http://www.castles.org/

Castles on exhibition in the Library were made by Year 7 Bega High Maths students as well as students from surrounding Primary Schools.

Gruyères is 810 m above sea level, 4.5 km south-south-east of the district capital Bulle. The historical town is placed on top of an isolated hill north of the alps, in the foothills of mount Molèson . It is also the location where the Saane river (French name: Sarine) leaves the Fribourg alps. Long famous for it’s cheese it is also home to a  notable castle with wonderful  Baroque style interiors.

The Castle of Gruyères located in the Medieval town of Gruyères, Fribourg, is one of the most famous in Switzerland. The castle, constructed in the 13th century, was home to a long succession of Gruyères counts. The end of the 15th century stands out as the golden age in the history of the counts. In 1476, count Louis takes part in the Burgundy war by the Confederates’ side. Following this deed of valour, modernization works were undertaken. The adjustment of the esplanade with its chapel, the spiral staircase in the courtyard and the transformation of the main building go back to that time. Thus, the castle loses its fortress appearance to become a stately residence. The baroque interiors remind one of the time when the bailiffs sent by Fribourg lived there.

The Castle was decimated by a fire in 1493 which destroyed virtually everything but the dungeons. Michel, the last count, ran up huge debts reconstructing the living quarters in Savoyard style and then fled, leaving his creditors – the governments of Fribourg and Bern – to divide up his lands between them.

 A rich Geneva dynasty, the Bovy and Balland families, bought the castle in 1848 and supported a number of artists in residence, including the French landscape painter Corot, before the cantonal government of Fribourg assumed control in 1938. The Castle was made into a museum and opened to the public. Since 1993, a foundation ensures the conservation as well as the highlighting of the building and the art collection.

After more than a week fighting off a fibro flare, I’ve finally gotten around to adding the photos from Prague and Cesky Krumlov. Austria and Vienna will be the final installment of photos, coming soon…

Miramare

The Saturday following the travel week we took a class field trip to Redipuglia, Miramare, and Trieste with European Cultural Studies class. It was cool to get off campus and see the surrounding area, I feel like every weekend we’ve been jetting of to other countries (and we pretty much have!). We boarded the bus early in the morning to go to Redipuglia where they have a huge WWI memorial and a small museum. The memorial has all the names of the soldiers who died, and I saw a lot of surnames that I recognized. I found a Battinelli as well, Catullo Battinelli. I don’t recognize the name but its cool nonetheless! I also found a Colosi and a few Conte’s among others. The view from the top was amazing as well.
The next stop on the trip was Castello di Miramare, a white castle right on the Adriatic Sea with beautiful gardens. This was also used as a headquarters for the US Army during the world wars. Had the best tiramisu ever in a little cafe in the gardens!

Castello Miramare

The last stop on our grand tour of Northeastern Italy was the city of Trieste itself. We were given time to run around and explore the city as long as we were back on the bus by a certain time. We were each given a map and the emergency cell phone number in case we got lost, and then we were off. The girls wanted to stop for Chinese food again (I feel like we’ve been eating that a lot) so instead of going with them I went exploring with some of the guys. After wandering aimlessly for a few minutes we decided to try to find the Castello S. Giusto in the center of the city. It was up on top of a big hill where we ran into a few more Cimbites. Kendall, Jeremy and I were the only ones willing to pay the 3.50 Euro to look around inside. It was pretty cool– the dungeon area downstairs was full of Roman antiques like statues and mosaics, while the upstairs was full of weapons like swords, pikes, and crossbows. It was pretty sweet.

View from Castello S. Giusto

Yes, we did make it back to the bus on time!

Here are all of my pictures from the trip. The second half is from our second formal dinner! Trieste and Barbesin

I really enjoy Nic Cage’s work (such as Leaving Las Vegas, one of the most depressing movies ever) and wish him the best… Ilene

How Nicolas Cage Spent His Way To The Poorhouse

Courtesy of Clusterstock, by Vince Veneziani

Nicolas Cage is a big movie star with an even bigger name.

A member of the famous Coppola family, Cage spent lavishly over the years, accumulating 9 Rolls Royces, 30 motorcycles, exotic pets, multiple luxury vehicles, a castle, and homes throughout the world. It’s no wonder he’s now being hunted by the IRS for tax evasion – he’s broke!

Currently, Cage owes $6.5 million in back taxes and is being sued by former business manager Samuel Levin.

Click here to see how Cage spent his money>>>

See Also:

Nicolas Cage Blames Money Manager for “Financial Ruin”

I am in the car on the corner of Ridge and Broad waiting at the light with my son S. We have just passed the Fairmont prison better know as the Eastern State Penitentiary, which is decked with Gargoyles for Halloween. My son is certain that the old Quaker prison is a castle. The prison is famously noted as the first penitentiary devoted to the reform of inmates and not solely the punishment. Unfortunately, the method of solitary (confinement) or reflection actually led to the deep psychological decline of many of the inmates. My son asks me to promise that we will pass the castle on the way home and I do.

My sons’ understanding of castles is rooted in their experience of knights and dragons, wizards, witches and of course the army of the dead. It is true I have indulged these gothic ideas. My husband and I did get him the Scully Skeleton castle for his birthday and I did venture to make him a scully bones castle cake. Of course, Lego and Playmobile are also equally to blame for having these toys so readily available. It can be argued that I didn’t really have a say. Or it is possible that the creators are so culturally in tune with my aesthetic nuances that I happily accept and embrace their cultural artifacts? Either way, the battleship grey, dungeony medieval boy castle is now a paradigm set in stone.

Is it our paranoid American vision that has morphed boys castles into hollow fortresses that must be protected? Why are their castles devoid of the life? Do they know what they are fighting to defend? Wait, can’t reflect on that now…I’ve got to fight off the army of the dead. Why? Because they are out there!! Frankly in many sword and sandal, zombie, man action movies the heroes are never really fighting for their homes, as they are often already on the run. The home, the way of life all these things have already been lost. The whole first act has been spliced into a three minute visual narrative of a wife and kid/family/homestead being sacrificed, think Gladiator. For some men it is the perfect formula, a nod to the foreplay and on with the game. These knights are solely fighting to survive and then perhaps for the possibility of love or to avenge love. Just because…there should be a love interest or an adoring witness to their fateful heroics.

Which brings me to the grail next door or rather across the street. It’s a whole other game when they go across the street to their grail friend’s house. Which they do happily. For there, they are greeted by pink and purple legos. There the castles are frosted with lipstick confection. At her house there are twinkling mirrors that tell them how beautiful they are and what great princesses they make. Just across the street the boys find a very different kind of castle. The pink grail castle is a Palace with glass turrets, faux marble entryways, and floral moiré taffeta drapes and Louis IV style furniture. Forget La Revolution…Marie Antoinette lives!

And how do my boys react to this taffy colored paradigm? Naturally they find their niche. S finds the cop or Storm trooper Lego’s that the girl’s father has inserted into the mix. M takes the Legos and builds cars for the mini-Polly pockets (don’t click that link…I warn you. ) to ride in. They focus on building. Sometimes they will play with the dolls. This means taking the doll’s clothes off… and changing them and then having them drive around in the cars with transformable features. It doesn’t matter that the car’s transformation is from 2 seater to limo with a hot tub. In fact, that has a certain appeal too.

Ethnographers love to study the toys of different cultures. Toys they understand represent the cultural legacy or lessons they wish to teach their children. The dolls of the Inuit are made from soap stone and fur. These are the materials of their livelyhood. They are clothed in the traditional costume of their day. The toys create a continuum of understanding, a cultural norm. So what happens if I allow the skull Castle to remain empty? Empty of history or purpose? Is Survival the fantasy I want my sons to aspire to? To be a soldier, because carrying swords and guns and being powerful is fun…and everyone loves a hero? What confection do I have to conjure to rectify and bring Peace or purpose to the war games?

I will take a cue from the creators of I am Legend with Will Smith. Here is a man, a doctor/scientist (positive role model in many people’s eyes. Though I am not personally a big fan of doctors, but for the sake of the story.) who naturally loses the beautiful wife and kid, finds a cure for the zombies and saves the world. But wait what is the world? At the end of the movie the lone female and the orphan come with the cure in hand to the fortress gates of their new home. There they are greeted by the idyllic, homespun community of robe wearing agrarians and intellectuals. The community is a cross between a college campus and a Jedi academy and an artists commune in the hills of New Mexico or Ithaca. Wait that’s just where I want to live. I am mixing my fantasies theirs, mine, their fathers.

This is what I propose:

Week one we make the main house a communal meeting house.

Week two we make the multiple homes for our variety of families.

Week three we make the well, the water wheel and the wind mill. Okay we can add a pool, but with the waterwheel there must be a naturally occurring water source so a waterfall with a nice pool at the bottom would be better.

Week four we invest in bean sprouts and create a mini field. No, no cows…all that methane, how about kangaroos..I heard a story on NPR..yes of course we need to make a radio station and a building for a press or a house for the “server”. Don’t forget a sewer system and Wireless access for all.

Week five the artist studios, ceramics, glass, textiles, wood and or recycled materials, printmaking and of course painting. Oh and don’t’ forget the music and dance halls and Martial arts studios. Science lab? Planetarium?

Week six we create the library because after working in the fields, apprenticing with their guild teachers we do want our children to be literate. Of course their reading writing and math skills will be trained in their field and guild apprentice work, but we do want them to have a special place to dream and play in the languages of letters and numbers.

Week seven we create the fire stations and police stations because there is always some robe wearer going rogue.

Week eight we will rest…reflect and say..this is good…

Week nine we will write a letter:

Dear Lego and Play mobile,

My sons and I have created prototypes for the stuff you might keep behind the Architectural Facades of your castles. Because we believe that if you are going to fight the army of the dead..you should at least know what your fighting for. Could you reproduce these with organic and or recycled materials for the many willing consumers looking forward to Christmas? Oh and as creators, we will accept 20% of your net profits.

If you choose not to take up this great offer…then we will be forced to act and create our own venture. The competition will be fierce and the battle possibly, long and bloody with swords and what not, but with true purpose..we will prevail!

Sincerely,

Woewifey and sons, Think tank – our motto- Destroying the army of the dead one toy at a time

p.s. Could you give my wife a job?

Respectfully, her husband.

Scotland is known for a romantic and tranquil terrain, where antique castles nestle amidst grandiose peaks, where superlative legacy come alive with an affluent culture and history. With its magnificent castles and colorful festivals, Scotland celebrates its customary and fashionable culture. Tourists can enjoy a leisurely walk in the calm country where trekking long routes will refresh your senses.
Each and every castle will leave you with a captivating experience because each castle has a distinctive nature of its own. These castles are remarkably preserved, whether it is in a habitable state or in ruins. All the castles in Scotland are worth a visit because of their historical connotations, settings and remarkable architectural style. The Castles taking you in the fairy tales also offer mysterious passageways, unusual adornment and breathtakingly spectacular views. Castles are usually gives a free access; these are open for the tourists through permission of the castle trust or preservation society. Some of the most popular castles are:

The Castle of Mey :- In the north of Scotland is situated The Castle of Mey. The Castle has beautiful gardens growing vegetables, flowers and fruit, which are embellished with decorative features. The castle also has a lovely tourist centre where one can buy various gifts and souvenirs. Then, continue your visit by rewinding in the in-house restaurant and having the best aromatic coffee beans flavor in the coffee shop. During the times of spring and summer, entrance to the Castle is open for the visitors as the castle is not used for royal residence during this period.

The Edinburgh Castle :- Edinburgh Castle is one of the main tourist attractions because tourists can always witness the history of Scotland here. Further, one can look for several other areas including The Stone of Destiny & The Crown Jewels. One can freely take a stroll in and around the castle. While having a cup of coffee in the cafeteria, one can enjoy the picturesque view of the castle through huge glass windows; alongside the famous black canons on the walkway.

After visiting the Castle, move down to visit Holyrood Palace, which is known as The Royal Mile. The place houses classic Scottish souvenirs for you to carry back home including craft items, jewelry, woolen, and cashmere product shops. This place covers numerous exquisite cafes and bistros for the convenience of the tourists.

The Caerlaverock Castle :- The untouched countryside, surrounding the castle, gives a glimpse of the medieval times of Scotland to the tourists visiting this castle. The indoor remains, of this very stylish court of residents, look stunning. The castle was built by the Earl of Nithsdale, which is a very fine illustration of the typical architectural style introduced during the period of renaissance.

The Balmoral Castle :- This castle is positioned amid the glorious scenery of Royal Deeside. The castle was bought by Queen Victoria in the year 1848, since that time the Estate has been the Scottish abode for the British Royal Family. The Ballroom is adorned with several paintings placed on the walls, porcelain and silver art pieces are also displayed. The Estate widens to 50,000 acres of heather clad hills, prehistoric Caledonian forest, and the dazzling River Dee flowing adjacent to it. The Royal Family has conserved the wildlife, landscape and structural design of the castle.

St. Andrew’s Castle :- St. Andrew’s Castle is more than 700 years old. The game of golf was built here for making it look splendid. The countryside and its landscape make it look marvelous. This oldest and the most famous castle leaves the visitors speechless with its grandeur.

Magnificent castles together with other remarkable attractions and activities in Scotland extend enough reasons to tourists to explore it!

There are so many exciting and interesting places to visit in Scotland! Explore ancient castles and historic sights, discover excellent museums and gardens, and indulge in some of Europe’s finest shopping! Do not hesitate! Come to learn English in Scotland!

So, I’m in Austria and we see this great castle up at the top of a steep hill. At the bottom of this hilly area is the Danube River and a beautiful little town called Durnstein. Someone mumbles something about Richard the Lionheart having been imprisoned there. We’re in a great hurry to get to some exhibit before it closes, so I grab an ice cream cone from a vendor, snap a few photos, and we leave.

How utterly stupid, to be in a hurry on vacation in Europe! Since then, I’ve considered it a missed opportunity to revisit my Western Civilization classes from college. Richard the Lionheart. About all I remember is that he was King of England a long time ago, and was called “the Lionheart” for his bravery.

Three years later, here are some fun facts in a nutshell:

Richard was King of England from 1189 till his death in 1199. He was a Plantagenet.

He spoke very little English.

He was born in England, but spent his childhood in France.

He was educated and wrote poetry.

Like his two older brothers, he spent a lot of time trying to dethrone his father, King Henry II of England. When Henry II died, it was said that his nose bled in the presence of Richard, which meant that Richard was responsible for his father’s death.

It was also rumored that Henry II had an affair with Richard’s fiance. These two guys just didn’t get along.

When Richard was crowned king in 1189, he was 32 years old. He decreed that no Jews would be allowed to attend his crowning ceremony, but some Jewish leaders showed up anyway to give him gifts. Richard’s henchmen killed those Jews and then went on a rampage killing many Jews and even burning some of them alive.

Then, Richard realized that persecuting Jews might not be popular, so he ordered execution of some of those who had persecuted Jews on his behalf. (Is that making any sense to you?)

Richard spent six months of his 10-year reign in England. He claimed that England was “cold and always raining.” Eight hundred years later, it’s hard not to smile at that one.

Richard was one of the leaders of the Third Crusade, which attempted to conquer Jerusalem from Muslim control. Ultimately, he lost, and the Holy Land stayed with the Muslims. During the war, Richard’s people executed thousands of Muslims, and the Muslims executed thousands of European Christians.

(Christians and Muslims are still killing each other over this land today, eight hundred years later.)

After losing the Third Crusade, Richard tried to sneak home to France, but he was captured and held for random by the Duke of Austria, Leopold V. According to Wikipedia:

Richard and his retainers had been travelling in disguise as low-ranking pilgrims, but he was identified either because he was wearing an expensive ring, or because of his insistence on eating roast chicken, an aristocratic delicacy.

Here’s where my photo comes in—that’s where Leopold held Richard prisoner. But Leopold was excommunicated for holding him, so he (Leopold) turned over Richard to the “Holy” Roman Emperor, Henry VI. Henry didn’t release Richard, either, so the Pope excommunicated him, too. He didn’t budge, and demanded ransom money in order to release Richard. The Lionheart retorted:

I am born of a rank which recognizes no superior but God.

He remained in captivity. Here are a couple more photos of Durnstein:

During his captivity at Durnstein, Richard wrote this poem:

No one will tell me the cause of my sorrow, Why they have made me a prisoner here. Wherefore with dolour I now make my moan; Friends had I many but help have I none. Shameful it is that they leave me to ransom, To languish here two winters long.

(Aside:  I’ve noticed that several websites mistakenly refer to Durnstein as being located in Germany. It’s in Austria.)

Unfortunately, after all of his bluster about not being able to be bought, he was released from captivity when his mother paid his ransom. (Big man!)

Richard went home in defeat (in my opinion) and built a new home, Chateau Gaillard, France. Apparently it only took a year to build. This is one rendering of it looked like, new:

And here’s what it looks like today:

And I ran across this gorgeous photo of the Chateau and decided to post it, just for effect:

As for Richard the Lionheart, he was a mama’s boy till the end. He died in his mother’s arms at age 41 from an infected arrow wound that he refused to have treated. According to Wikipedia,

Richard’s brain was buried at Charroux Abbey in Poitou, his heart was buried at Rouen in Normandy, and the rest of his body was buried at the feet of his father at Fontevraud Abbey in Anjou.

A 13th century Bishop of Rochester wrote that Richard spent 33 years in purgatory as expiation for his sins, eventually ascending to heaven in March 1232.

(Once again, amazing how these Catholics know so  much.)

We writers love towers. They are removed and lofty, closer to the divine. Maybe we believe writing in a tower opens our thoughts to the heavens, to the muses. Maybe we need to look away from our work—the tedium of language, the marks on the page, these attempts to quantify a life, life itself, and one’s thoughts—into distances, to see the bigger, wider view. Maybe we seek quiet and solitude to be alone with our thoughts, to focus on the words. Maybe we need to hide to create. The tower’s symbolism and uses—power, protection, lookout, communication, storage—draw us up the stairs, toward the sky. The words housed in this stone structure—the words themselves a structure—contain, and maybe disguise or secret something, maybe imprison, maybe let us watch for something else.

At the first of November, Susan and I and the children move up to our home for duration of our stay in a village in France, the château’s tower apartment. It is a proper private space about 50×25 feet with a fully equipped kitchen, living room, dining area, bath and toilet, two bedrooms, and laundry, and a huge loft opening onto a covered balcony overlooking the countryside to the east, north and south. A wood stove stands in the open hearth, supplementing the under-floor heating, and we are fully connected to the rest of the modern world with satellite television, DVD, and Wi-fi. On the other hand, the square holes for the beams of the catwalk ramparts that once ringed the roof attest to the tower’s former importance as a lookout post for the monastery that owned and built it and the surrounding residents. Since the 11^th century, when the stones were worked and laid and stacked up in a tower of more than 60 feet on top of a tall hill, Christian Crusaders regularly crossed this part of southern France on their way to Spain and the Holy Lands. Invaders frequently made incursions from the south—where lies Spain beyond the Pyrénées, about three hours drive from here—and the east—where the Mediterranean Sea opens to Rome and Greece, North Africa and the Middle East. Pilgrims on their way to Santiago de Compostella passed nearby. In the tower, we are the tallest thing for miles around. We inhabit both old and new worlds. We climb the thousand-year-old stairs, hang our laundry where the monks kept an eye out for Saracen raiders, sleep restlessly while the winds from the Atlantic and the white Pyrénées howl like ghosts, and wake to write at dawn for an audience to whom I am connected by satellites and radio waves. Weird.

In the Tarot, the Tower is a symbol of destruction, the collapse of the systems and structures we erect in our lives to make us feel safe, to keep us secure, to hide away our secrets, our vulnerabilities. The pictures from the most ancient decks show a stone tower struck by lightening, the people within escaping from the flames and stones in the nick of time, often naked to the storm. This is a mythology that explains those times in life when everything falls apart. When what we had counted on suddenly no longer is. Jung liked this symbolism, of course. He even built a tower himself, by hand. Our tower seems strong, even when the wind blows. We tell ourselves that it has been here for a thousand years. This is unlikely to be the storm that brings it down.

I have always been a weather-watcher, but in the tower, I find myself both obsessed and mystified by the weather. Up here, the winds blow almost all the time. The winds in France have names—Autan, Mistral, Tramotane, Cers. The winds that blow in this part of the Haute Garonne are not the Mistral of Provence, but they can be just as fierce, just as damaging. The winds that blow in from the south and west—from the Atlantic Ocean and across the Pyrenees—in the fall and winter can be very cold, very wet. In the first week of November, our first week in the tower, a series of storms blow in from that direction, sideways sheets of rain, sycamore leaves sweeping past our windows. The wind is loud outside, like waves at the beach or the blood through the heart and veins of someone under great stress, intense. In legend, these winds can make a person go mad, tumble the walls of self that holds the mind together. But isn’t that always the legend of great winds? The tower stands rock solid, cutting the yowling winds. We feel safe but unnerved.

Lightening does strike, on occasion, we’re told. It has hit this very tower, the tallest thing for miles. It strikes the chimney and travels straight to ground. It hits the satellite dish and, like an evil sprite, dances through all of the electrics in the whole château, blowing out the television, the d.v.d. player, towel warmers, computers, washing machines, an oven. We protect ourselves as much as possible, keep everything important unplugged unless we’re using it. Unless we see and hear a thunder storm approaching. We watch for lightening like those sentinels of old watched for marauders. I think of the Tarot card image, everything tumbling to the ground.

We find that the weather on the ground floor may be very different from that up in the tower. Some days we hike down all those flights of crooked wooden steps from the howl of wind outside into warmth. The wind from the east feels dry, though the clouds may lower and darken the day early. The clouds may part suddenly, blue skies opening up. Rainbows spring up from the brown plowed hills and disappear into lavender clouds. The snows creep down the Pyrénées as the storms pass, day by day, week by week. And then the weather turns warm again. We pick more of the tomatoes from the garden. My spinach and arugula sprout in the garden. We run in shorts one day and dress the children in winter coats for school the next. Who are we inside this tower? Something different each day. Something unpredictable as the weather swirling around us. But also something solid and unchanging within—is this the self? We come down to earth some days, and find it a strange place.

I move my chair and work table so that I am able to see the sunrise, pinks and oranges and purples and reds. I sit on the swing on the balcony on warm afternoons and look through binoculars. I point the telescope toward Jupiter so that we can look for the giant red spot, a mammoth storm that has been swirling up there 400 million miles away for thousands of years. Since the time this tower was built and monks in robes tended the fields and slept on boards without blankets and watched the horizon for danger coming. They sat, perhaps, just about here and watched these same stars. We look up and out for God, but isn’t that spirit also contained within these walls, permeating the very stones of this tower? The light I see tonight left that star when that lonely monk sat in my place now. When this tower falls, what secret minotaur will be revealed?

In this tower, though, I am not alone. James and Izzy and Susan are all here, and soon we’ll be joined by the dogs in our care. It’s a busy tower, full of life. My heart swells with it. The structure is sound. It holds our joyful noise and points it to the heavens. It draws the heavens down in bolts that illuminate and warm, transformed into dancing sprites. Change—even destruction—can open the heart to magic, to the divine within.

I rise at 5, as is my custom, to be alone in the loft with my words, my writing, my stories, watching the sunrise, watching for invaders, storing away the harvest for another, colder day. I don’t know all that is hidden in the heart of this structure. It has not yet been revealed to me. The tower has not yet fallen away. Change will come though. I know it. And it may be the change of a tower falling, some structure tumbling, a rug pulled from under my feet. It has happened to me before: my coming out, my brother’s death, my father’s silence, even falling in love with Susan and the birth of the twins, the total demolition of my former life. I have learned that the tower falling can bring new light. We can rise to the challenges, embrace the changes, move into a new world.

Sometimes the words build the tower up. Sometimes they protect the secrets. Sometimes they reveal them and the tower crumbles. I seem to land on my feet, naked perhaps, vulnerable. But clean. Illuminated. The words are just a tower. The life within the walls is ordinary and divine in the same breath, the same light of heaven. Stones may crumble, but the light warms, a kind of magic. We must trust—not fear—the process of change. I signal the world miles away. We are safe up here together, even when the walls come down.

Olavinlinna (The Castle of St. Olaf) was founded in 1475. It originally had five towers, but three of them remains at present. The castle stands on a small rocky island in lake Saimaa which is the biggest lake in Finland.

In the beginning of the 14th century a peace treaty was signed between Sweden and Novgorod (Russia), according to which the eastern border of Sweden passed through the Savonlinna region. At this time Finland was  part of Sweden. However, the border constantly changed and caused continuing disturbances between these two nations. In the 15th century Grand Duchy of Moscow became more powerful and used this strength to flex it’s political muscle in this region.

There was only one castle, situated in Wyborg  further down to the south-east, to protect the eastern border of Sweden-Finland. The Swedish government at the time chose the site of Olavinlinna Castle to improve safety on the eastern border and to control an important waterway. Olavinlinna Castle was founded by Erik Axelsson Tott. The building work began in 1475. The castle was built under duress as the Russians believed it was being constructed on their side of the border and they did their best to disrupt the construction. Tott founded the fortress in 1475 under the name Sankt Olofsburg, it was an effort to profit from the political turmoil following Ivan III’s conquest of the Novograd Republic,

One of Tott’s letters from 1477 includes a passing mention of foreign builders invited to Olofsborg, probably from Reval,where the city fortifications were being extended. It was the first Swedish castle provided with a set of thickset circular towers that could withstand cannon fire. It is not by accident that a network of lakes and waterways forms the setting for the castle, for these would seriously impede a prospective Russian offensive.

Erik Axelsson was a Danish knight (in the 15th century Sweden-Finland was still united with Denmark and Norway). He named Olavinlinna Castle, or St. Olof’s Castle, after the patron saint of all knights, St. Olof. St. Olof lived in the 11th century and he was a famous Norwegian crusader.

Olavinlinna castle was built on a rocky island in Lake Saimaa area. The castle was easy to defend all year round, water floats around the castle so fast that it hardly ever freezes. The medieval castle consisted of three towers and the connecting walls between them. Two of these towers still exist, the Bell Tower and the Church Tower. The third, St.Eric’s Tower, tumbled down or was pulled down in the beginning of the 18th century. Later a bailey, two more towers and apartments were added.

Olavinlinna castle served as a Swedish border castle until the beginning of the 18th century. The Great Northern War broke out in 1700. In 1714 Olavinlinna Castle had to surrender to Russian soldiers, there was no food and munition left in the castle after a long siege. The first Russian period was short and was over in 1721. In a peace treaty the border line was moved again and Swedes got their castle back. In 1743 Olavinlinna Castle became a Russian garrison again after a peace treaty of Turku. At that time Russians stayed in the castle for nearly 100 years.

Olavinlinna Castle lost its’ military purpose in 1809 when Finland became an autonomous part of Russia. However, Russian soldiers stayed in the castle until 1847. Finland became independent in 1917. In the 1850’s castle served as a prison for a few years. In the 1860’s two fires caused extensive damage to the castle. First restorations were made already in the 19th century, but the castle was restored thoroughly between 1961-1975.

Olavinlinna Castle is nowadays run and owned by the Finnish state. It is one of the best preserved medieval castles in the Nordic Nations.

We have been visiting a lot of castles recently, and I have picked out my favourite – St. Hilarion – to write about. it’s a massive structure perched on the top of the Kyrenia mountains. It is almost as if the building was carved out of the mountainside, especially since now it has fallen into ‘natures grasp’ with trees growing in amongst the walls.

Great view, right?

There are many illustrations and pictures hung on the walls of the castle in various places (some on canvas) which gives visitors a look at how life was back then.

The crib