The LEVEL Of Niggashit Black Women Engage In Is A Sign Of Their Internal Violence. If You Are A Black Man of PEACE, There Is No Way In Hell You’d Be Able To Deal With This Bullshit, NOT FOR ONE SECOND! … the people’s court divorce judge Mathis judy karen Hatchett joe brown alex

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=en5ZJS9tHdo&hl=en

Tags : aberdeenshireblog albuquerqueblog http://haustier.fernstudiumde.com/

New federal Liberal leader Tony Abbott says he will try to heal the wounds in the party, but there are already cracks appearing.

After a tumultuous week of fighting over climate change and leadership, the Liberal Party picked the dark horse, Mr Abbott, to lead them to the next election.

—

Shocked? I am. Bring on a double disillusion election!

What do you think?

Norwegian Forest Cat, King of Cats Mousepad by catherinesherman

The Norwegian Forest Cat traveled with the Vikings to North America in the 11th century, where it evolved into the Maine Coon Cat. It’s a large cat with a thick, water-resistant coat, tufted ears and toes, a fluffy raccoon-like tail and a mane. Doesn’t this cat look like Erik the Red!

Owen, Noah, Aaron, Rylen, Bruce, Holden, Parker, Matthew, Spencer, Dawson, Brandon, Trey, Tucker, Nathan, Kain, Jacob, Alexander, Collin, Benjamin, Nicholas, Austin, Joshua, Evan, Jack, Neco, Cooper, Elijah, Kyle, Oscar, Keegan, Malcolm, Mason, Bregan, Madden, Myles, Caeden, Brenden, Pryor, Maurice, Nicky.

Gabriella, Jillian, Lillian, Audrey, Ruby May, Erin, Bianca, Jade, Rylee, Aili, Trynity, Meghan, Olivia, Elise, Quinn, Ariana, Charlotte, Beatrix, Abigail, Layla, Kenley, Caoimhe, Cailyn, Ava, Carolina, Mia, Ailey, Alena.

Off to see a new lawyer on Tuesday. I lover lawyers, they’re smart, clever, intelligent (oh that’ll be three synonyms) -er they have nice biscuits and fizzy water (though it’s rarely chilled). Why do I like lawyers, it’s a bit like going to visit Santa – the expectation always outweighs the return. I know this, but I’m always a sucker, just can’t seem to help myself. I suppose it might be because they pay attention to my story. They pay attention to my story because I pay them to, but the bill always comes in much later, so when meeting the fee rarely figures.

The new lawyer is because the old lawyer did the dirty on me. I had legal insurance in place. All was going well but suddenly the lawyer changed the prospects to 50/50 and lost the funding. This is odd. Very odd. Why would a lawyer who was going to make A LOT out of a case walk away? Even given the appalling state of employment law in the UK, the insurance company would have paid if they’d won or lost. Was it a dose of conscientiousness taken to the limits? We shall never know because that same day this lawyer went off sick and never returned to work EVER. Obviously I complained. The result is that her firm have been providing me with free advice from the head of Employment Law at £245 per hour, but only in a desultory manner – not enough to actually represent me in court.

The insurance company are great, they are willing to take a second opinion. And so I need a new lawyer. I went to see this one for an hour and three hours later felt that we’d reached a good understanding. But, she wanted more paperwork, so I gave her more paperwork. Then she sent me a nine page document setting out her provisional opinion which is that she’s not sure. Oh for God sake. Nobody is doubting the discrimination against me, not the new lawyer not the original lawyer, the debate is “only” about whether they can win the case given the current hiaitus in Uk employment law.

So how long does it take a lawyer to write a nine page document – remembering that until I get the insurance tap turned back on, I’ll be paying for her time. She asked me to write into her document – so now we have a sixteen page document to discuss on Tuesder – oooh er, not sure if that was wise…..

Norwegian Forest Cat greeting card by catherinesherman  He’s the feline version of Erik the Red!  The Norwegian Forest Cat is the official cat of Norway, where it has lived for thousands of years.  The Norwegian Forest Cat traveled to North America with the Vikings in the 11th century, where their descendants developed into the Main Coon Cat.  Both cats are large-sized and well suited to the cold with heavywater-proof  fur, bushy tails and tufted ears and toes.  The Maine Coon Cat is the state cat of Maine.

Norwegian Forest Cat postcard by catherinesherman

Norwegian Forest Cat Mouse Pad by catherinesherman

Norwegian Forest Cat Mug by catherinesherman

Once upon a time (in the UK at least) the funny people who “govern” made up the Disability Discrimination Act (DDA) which set out to provide some protection for the physically and mentally disabled. A long time later a schizophrenic called Malcolm decided to rent out his council flat in the London Borough of Lewisham and go and live somewhere else. Now this was very naughty because it breached the terms of his lease. When challenged, Malcolm retorted ha, ha, you can’t touch me because I’m covered by the DDA. I’m disabled and your discriminating!

Well, the lawyers got very excited – everybody’s lawyers - and years later the case had made it all the way to the House of Lords (equivalent of the Supreme Court). The Lords, in their wisdom, decided that Malcolm’s schizophrenia had nothing to do with his decision to illegally sublet his social housing. Well and good – maybe.

But this decision was like a stone dropped into a pool or a virus introduced into a beehive. Time passed and the conclusions from Lewisham v Malcolm spread behond housing law to infect employment law. And so it came to pass that an employer can now discard an employee simply by claiming their decision to dismiss related only to their (poor) performance and had nothing to do with their disability – and, hey, the DDA no longer applies.

What a load of bollocks.

The result is that all the good work of the DDA is screwed. If your employer doesn’t like you they can discriminate against you as much as they like, turf you over and kick you out – and nobody can do anything about it. Go to your lawyers and they’ll tell you. If you’re disabled, your screwed. The stigma you thought you were fighting is much worse than you ever imagined.

Malcolm, if you ever read this, you have to know that I understand what you were doing but wish you and your lawyers had a little more sense of the law of unintended consequences. Thanks to your trivial actions, the whole framework of protection for disabled people has been trashed. Thanks.

Malcolm stands here showing many of the traits of a Norwegian Forest Cat — a mane, a bushy raccoon-like tail, tufted ears and toes, very thick fur. His belly fur would drag on the ground if we didn’t trim him. He’s probably really a Maine Coon cat, but that breed likely is descended from the Norwegian Forest Cat that traveled with the Vikings to North America in the 11th century.

Malcolm doesn’t have a pedigree.  Almost eighteen years ago, he was just a fluffy stray kitten with ear mites and fleas when we chose him at Wayside Waifs, an animal shelter in Kansas City, Missouri.  Through the years, as he grew larger and fluffier, people would tell us he might be partly if not all Maine Coon Cat.  We didn’t care about breeds, though.  To us, Malcolm was one of a kind, special,  unique, in a class by himself.  We barely remember life before he joined our family.

Malcolm loves the sunshine and follows it as it moves across the floor.

Lately, though, we’ve been watching shows about the different breeds of cat. I had no idea there were so many, although still not even close to the number of dog breeds. Our daughter has a Turkish Angora (now living with us), and I knew about a few others.  

There are 80 breeds of cats recognized by one cat registry or another.  The IPCBA (International Progressive Cat Breeders Alliance) recognizes 73 feline breeds, while the more conservative CFA (Cat Fanciers’ Association) acknowleges only 41, according to WikiAnswers.

Wikipedia says: The Maine Coon is one of the oldest natural domestic cat breeds in North America, specifically native to the state of Maine, where it is the official State Cat.  The breed was popular in cat shows in the late 1800s, but its existence became threatened when long-haired breeds from overseas were introduced in the early 20th century. The Maine Coon made a comeback and is now the second most popular cat breed in North America, according to the Cat Fanciers’ Association. The Maine Coon is noted for its large bone structure, its rectangular body shape, and a long, flowing coat. The breed can be seen in a variety of colors and are known for their intelligence and gentle personalities.

One theory of the origin of the Maine Coon Cat is that it evolved from the Norwegian Forest Cats that traveled to North America with the Vikings in the 11th century.  We decided that Malcolm must be a Viking cat.  My children have one set of Norwegian great-grandparents, so this seemed the perfect origin for Malcolm. We should have named him Erik the Red!

Even in his old age, Malcolm managed to find ways to groom some of the more difficult to reach areas by propping himself against furniture.

Like the Maine Coon, Norwegian Forest Cats have a thick fluffy double-layered coat, long tufts of fur in ears and between toes, and a long bushy tail to protect them against the cold. They have a lion-like ruff or mane.  Their coat is fairly waterproof  because of its coarse outer layer and dense undercoat. They are very large cats with adult males weighing 13 to 22 pounds (6 to 10 kg),  while females are about half that size. Their hind legs are longer than their front legs.  Malcolm fits this description perfectly.  At his largest, he weighed 16 pounds.

Maine Coon and Norwegian Forest cats are described as very intelligent, playful cats that enjoy human company but can get upset if left alone for a long period of time.  Malcolm would always meow very bitterly when we left him for a couple of days.  He had plenty to eat and drink, but he missed us. And we missed him.

Malcolm followed me around the house and always wanted to sit with or near me. In his later years, he slept next to me. He was my faithful companion, and when I called to him, he always answered.  Malcolm is very sick now, and has all but his tail in Valhalla. Who would have thought a little cat (ok, not so little) could steal your heart so completely? I can barely write any more about him, I’m so sad. There are tears on my keyboard.  Below is a link to a post (Good-bye, Mr. B) about another person’s tears on his keyboard over his beloved cat. (Written from the dog’s perspective.) Hold your pet close today.  I had no idea when we were recording his vacuum grooming just a few weeks ago that Malcolm would decline so quickly. (The video is on this blog.) One day he was jumping on the sofa to sit next to me, the next day he retreated to the closet and refused to eat.  Tests showed an inoperable tumor. 

Malcolm getting vacuumed.

When I took Malcolm to the vet last week, a man who had come in to ask for directions, took a look at Malcolm and said:

“Now that is a cat!”   Well said, sir!

Maine Coon Cat.

Norwegian Forest Cat.

Good-bye, Mr. B

Malcolm looks regal as he sits in one of his many favorite chairs.

PALIN GIVES OPRAH BEST RATINGS IN 2
YEARS

Oprah Winfrey’s much-anticipated
interview of Sarah Palin brought
her talk show its highest ratings
in two years.

MCCRARY IS NEW MALCOLM ON
‘RESTLESS’

So much for Shemar Moore ever
reprising his role of Malcolm
Winters on “The Young and the
Restless.” Beginning next month,
the character will be played by
former “Family Matters” star Darius
McCrary.

DIVERSITY STILL SCARCE AMONG
SHOWBIZ WRITERS

Variety is reporting that the WGA
West’s new 2009 Hollywood Writers
Report finds “little if any”
improvement in employment and
earnings for women and minority
writers

Turks and Caicos, a scarcely known group of islands in the Caribbean, had been enjoying the good life for the last 6 years. The economic windfall came from foreign resort developments and the financial banking sector known to be a tax haven.

In August 2009, the government and its autonomous constitution was over-thrown by the British. UK, purportedly having been told by a group of islanders (led by TCI Journal) that corruption existed between the government and foreign investors, conducted an investigation into these claims.

Since the UK’s take-over in August, the people of Turks and Caicos have grown mutinous over UK’s reported mismanagement of the island’s economy. Increased taxes, cuts in benefits, loss of jobs and amendments of the financial sector have caused many islanders alarm of the loss of prosperity that they once enjoyed. Many islanders claim that if UK is there to “bail them out” then why are they penalizing the people and what are they doing with the revenue.

Newly elected Peoples Democratic Movement leader (a political party in Turks and Caicos), Doug Parnell says that UK leadership in Turks and Caicos is now “akin to Cuba”, a dictatorship. The governor, Gordon Wetherell, makes all decisions solely.

Furthermore, all rights to a jury trial have been abolished by the UK as to the entire population. This has raised many eyebrows calling into question a witch hunt with a supreme decision already mapped.

When the UK took over governance of the islands in August, a newly elected Premier, Gallmo Williams, had been already elected and in office for nearly six months following the accused Premier Michael Misick’s resignation. Mr. Williams calls UK’s move, a coup.

How did these claims of wrong doing in Turks and Caicos come about? It was not an organic grass root’s effort as once reported. It is now known to have been caused by the accusations and orchestration of a web blog in the islands called TCI Journal which has been shrouded in controversy since early 2008.

TCI Journal is run by Shaun Malcolm, who the national main stream media calls a “political opportunist.” However, he is rumored to have several backers. The site is known to use fictitious letters to the editors and pseudonyms to make allegations and innuendo against the local government officials and foreign businessmen in the islands.

Some twelve months ago, TCI Journal wrote to UK parliament making claims of impropriety of then Premier, Michael Misick. However, once Misick left office under a cloud of suspicion, the accusations did not stop by TCI Journal.

It now turns out that the target of TCI Journal and Shaun Malcolm is ultimately UK’s Lord Michael Ashcroft, a major investor in Turks and Caicos.

Yesterday, TCI Journal and Shaun Malcolm wrote another letter to Parliament and Queen Elizabeth claiming to speak on behalf of “thinking citizens” of Turks and Caicos. It stated that islanders are grateful for UK’s intervention, which has islanders hopping mad. But the letter also asks Westminster the following:

“We respectfully and sincerely ask for your written assurance that Lord Ashcroft will not be influencing, directly or indirectly, decisions regarding the Turks and Caicos Islands should the Conservatives win the next election, and if you are willing to give us these assurances then we kindly ask for you to work with us now to establish tangible safeguards towards this goal.” The letter goes on with specific allegations of cronyism with Michael Misick’s government.

It is now reported that on Monday, Lord Michael Ashcroft will be required to face questions in the parliament with respect to these claims of alleged impropriety. These are allegations which Lord Michael Ashcroft flatly denies. Lord Ashcroft released a statement today stating that the accusations by Shaun Malcolm are false.

On the day when I received the news, I was full of regret. Oh Why? I just couldnt stop feeling so much regret. Malcolm got into a coma six days before the news arrived. I was about to visit him during the school holidays 3 weeks before he died but I fell sick with bad tonsilities. I have always wanted to visit Malcolm and didnt get around to do it. And now, when i heard the news I just decided to book the ticket and God knows where i am going to sleep cos that was the last thing on my mind.

Later I received the news late of his passing, that was when I was about to board the flight to Stansted. Oh that was hard. I said Oh NO! so loud that everybody wondered what happened.  I just cant believe. I had the choice to not take the flight but not this time. I wanted to pay my last respects which I did. I had the priviledge to go to the hospital with his family.

I met his family, who are ever so hospitable. A beautiful weekend stay with Mal’s sister,  Angela and Jim and their three boys and Ged who is ever so caring who made me feel like home. I will never forget their generosity. I love the town they lived in called Northcote Road. Oh how I missed London. I really did.

Malcolm, you are deeply missed and you will always be in our hearts. London won’t be the same without you. But that wont stop me from seeing your family in London again.

Rest in Peace.

Malcolm Gladwell i jego nowatorskie teorie pokazują, że wszystkie pomysły marketingu są stare i należy je wyrzucić do kosza.

Napisanie tej książki z pewnością było punktem przełomowym w życiu Malcolma Gladwella – dzięki niej stał się guru zarządzania oraz zyskał miano jednego z najbardziej wpływowych ludzi na świecie.

Guru nowoczesnego marketingu odrzuca wszelkie nowinki. Wraca do korzeni, do wydarzeń, które miały miejsce na początku wieku XX. Może to wywołać zawał u nowoczesnych speców do wpływania na ludzi – jednak po lekturze Punktu przełomowego każdy będzie chciał stosować właśnie te metody.

Weźmy na przykład prawo garstki. Dlaczego firma, która myśli o zakończeniu swojej działalności – przez niespodziewany (i niewywoływany przez nią) splot przypadków staje się dochodowa. Ba – zyski jej rosną w dużym tempie, a nauka z prostego faktu pozwala wybić jej się na rynek światowy?

Dlaczego Ulica Sezamkowa nie jest dobrym programem edukacyjnym dla dzieci? Dlaczego warto najpierw sprawdzić dokładnie produkt, a dopiero potem wypuścić go na rynek?

Kogo możemy nazwać mawenami rynku i jak wykorzystać ich dla dobra swojej firmy?

Na te pytania nie przeczytacie odpowiedzi w książce Gladwella. On daje tylko doskonałe przykłady, które powinny wywoływać burzę mózgów czy to w małej firmie czy w dużej korporacji. Dzięki pomysłom i analizom autora można osiągnąć wiele – ale i wiele stracić, gdy niedokładnie przyjmiemy jego naukę.

Wszystko to napisane w mistrzowski sposób doskonale łączący historię z teraźniejszością. Widać, że seria Punkty Przełomowe wydana przez ZNAK jest strzałem w dziesiątkę, który uzupełnia lukę na polskim rynku wydawniczym.
Uzupełnia też lukę w myśleniu speców od marketingu, które dopiero teraz może przynosić ogromne korzyści.

Polecam

Malcolm Gladwell
Punkt przełomowy
wydawnictwo Znak
2009

1. I died cramming for Torts. For two consecutive days I’ve slept only for 3 hours at most (plus the office break and bus/train ride naps), as I was reading all the cases assigned for Torts. Despite the sleep deprivation, I was not able to finish all of them. Fortunately though I was asked to recite a case I’ve read and remembered really well. Thankfully the case involved Manila Memorial Park, a place I usually frequent. Gaaad I so miss jogging with my friends!

emo-rangers nasaan na kayo?! jogging!!!

2. We finally got our Agency & Partnership grades. I’ve seen my grades yesterday and thought that I’m okay with it. Turns out I’m not. I’ve been staring at the grade sheet for hours now. I got a three. What the hell? A three!!!

3. I’m planning to buy a portable nebulizer so that I can go to school whenever I have an asthma attack. The one my biological father got me is too heavy and bulky, not to mention too old. Hahaha! I realized that if it weren’t for my absences I could have gotten a 2.25 in Prop and a 2.5 or 2.75 in A&P.

4. My GWA for the first sem would definitely suck. I’m still not sure about what Prof. Laureta gave me but I’m hoping he’d save me. I have a 2.5, a 2.75 and a 3. Gone were the glory days when I’d faint at the sight of a 2 point 0 on my class cards. This would be damaging to my 2.0something for the whole first year. What happened to me?! I’m dreading that the QPI suspension is a scheme to make us students complacent. Once our grades sucked kaduper much (haha), they might bring back the old rule. Even if it doesn’t apply retroactively, it’s freakin’ cumulative! Panic mode ON!

And yeah, my motto’s supposed to be: mediocrity is a sin. Hahah. I could always argue that the grades don’t matter so long as I know what I’m capable of. Excuses, excuses.

my pen's just like the blue one in this pic

5. On the bright side, I bought a Pilot Coleto . It’s a tri-color pen perfect for G-TEC fans like me. It’s refillable; refills are available in pink, green, purple, and the usual red, black and blue among other colors.You can choose between 0.5, 0.4, and 0.3 cartridges! Heaven! Can’t wait to start writing them CrimPro digests. I wonder if Sir Sanidad would be okay with multicolored digests.

So I received a message and an email urging us to wear black and join a candle lighting ceremony which would be held at 5:30 p.m. Too bad I received it a little before seven, I’ve already chosen a pink blouse and though I would want to support them BLACK people I do not want to change. Deciding what to wear is one of the most arduous decisions I make. I was too sleepy.

I’m not yet done with my torts cases; I will die! I slept at around 3:00 a.m. and am still halfway through the reading list. Before I start reading again, me shall blog first. This will be short.

I do not like what’s going on in the UP College of Law. I hate having new registration rules for each semester. When a sem ends I usually look forward to de-stressing but no, you’d learn about new rules on this and that and that says goodbye to your supposedly lawless state for a week or two.

I am one of the few who liked the Dean even at the onset. I used his papers for my thesis and I even got the chance to interview him for my undergraduate thesis. He even gave me his calling card and a note requesting someone from LRC-KSK to give me a copy of some book. I kept the note but was not able to go to the LRC office because of time constraints, the calling card I gave to Ate Raj.

Anyway, I even appreciate him remembering me. There was one time in his class where he wanted to demonstrate multiple identities and he asked me if I were an IP. Well I am not I just love them.

I thought he was brilliant even though we weren’t able to finish our syllabus, and by not finish I meant we weren’t able to tackle pages and pages. And so if anyone of us flunks the bar because of the Consti Law questions, considering that the person does relatively well in law school and doesn’t slack etc., I will blame him. Yes he asked us to read the cases, yadayadayada. I know we should have done the work we’re supposed to but we can only do so much. In the end even though we have read the cases and thought we’ve understood everything, we really don’t. And so no matter how he, as well as other law professors, look down at Bernas we have no choice but to rely on Bernas among others for our bar review.

I’m sorry for the ad hominem. As Prof. Arno “my love” Sanidad puts it, our only right in the college is the right to study. Beyond that we have no other rights. However, I fervently believe that having fair and reasonable academic rules is a corollary of such right.

Huuuy…. I just hope that the problems in Malcolm Hell somehow dissipate. This sem is too stressful, I don’t want UP LAW emails flooding my inbox anymore.

P.S. I hope people stop calling him a dictator. Dictators are revered as much as they are loathed. As of the moment I’m only leaning towards the latter.

Actor Denzel Washington was playing the role of proud father as he cheered on his son  Malcolm’s first game with the University of Pennsylvania basketball team.

The 5-foot-9 Malcolm Washington is a walk-on guard at Penn. He did not play in Penn’s 70-55 loss.

The  AP reports that Washington went “virtually unnoticed in the Jordan Center crowd,”and didn’t want to respond to any reporter’s questions before the game, waving this arms and nodding in the direction of the Penn bench.

 Washington is in central Pennsylvania  filming the movie “Unstoppable”.

The 5-foot-9 Malcolm Washington(b. April 10, 1991) has a twin sister named Olivia, and he was named in honor of Malcom X, which was a significant role for Denzel Washington.

Malcom has an older brother John David (b. July 28, 1984), who signed a football contract with the St. Louis Rams in May 2006 after playing college football at Morehouse college in Atlanta, Georgia.

Being Denzel Washington’s son probably brings a lot of unwanted attention from people who want to be associated with the mega star, but if Malcolm is anything like his older brother John David, he will be able to excel on his own right, as he is a polite and self-sufficient young man.

All the reports that I have heard concerning Malcolm, is that he is very polite, personable, and has a strong work ethic. Denzel has a long-standing policy that he will not speak for his children,and is committed to being involved in supporting their athletic pursuits, just like most proud fathers.

I wish him well at his new college, and success in his role as a team member on his college basketball team.

Go Penn State!!!…and get with em’ Malcolm!!!

To learn more about the life and times of Denzel Washington, click on the source below…

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Denzel_Washington

Denzel Washington at son Malcolm's Penn State Basketball game

In which Helen gets angry and frustrated

They call in at a pub on a country lane before joining the motorway.

As they approach the main doors, which are flung open against the heat of the early evening, there is obviously a regular clientele ready ensconced in the busy, brightly lit lounge. It reminds Helen vividly of the kind of scene she has imagined in a nineteenth century novel: the reasonably well-off letting down their hair at the end of a tiring day, the conviviality slipping out into the night air in waves of anecdote, narrative, guffaw and chuckle. Against such a backdrop, and despite her favourite sweet Martini in hand, Helen is once more overcome with doubt and questioning.

She is used to this; it is second nature to be with the social crowd and sit at Malcolm’s side, supporting and participating in a superficial capacity. But the yearning in her very innermost being for some more tangible expression of belongingness, some indication that she herself has some worth and is not interchangeable with any other woman Malcolm might find in that role on any particular occasion – this yearning is so bright and acute inside her that she simply cannot go on not knowing where she belongs, who she is, what she wants.

Malcolm would say that she should take hold of life as it comes past, even grab it violently as it appears in case someone else grabs it first, go where it leads and not stop to think about every little segment or detail of what she is getting. But she has suddenly become dissatisfied with mindless taking; she has the deepest wish to feel a sense of finally arriving – but where to arrive is the problem. If she grabs, she may make a wrong choice, and if she doesn’t grab she may miss for ever the bit of life she wanted.

Sipping silently at her drink while Malcolm closes his eyes for a few minutes against the sting of wafting smoke, she questions even Carla’s friendship. Can you try on bras together and not be friends? Can you be friends and keep secrets? Does Addison like her and was that only a moment’s frustration he expressed? He has touched her frequently, caressed her cheek, told her to visit him. Was his kindness over the weeks simply the ploy to gain a Follower or even a lifetime’s habit of offering care and sympathy with no real feeling behind it? A flush of warmth starts in her belly and rushes upward through her breast, overwhelms her neck and suffuses her face. How can she not know the answers? She was there, it happened to her. She felt it, saw it, heard it. What sort of an idiot is she? Is she not an adult?

Anger and frustration mix in a violent reaction. Hardly aware of her actions, she stands up, places her glass heavily on the table so that the contents jump out and spill on the polished surface in a jagged line. She is aware that several eyes are on her but cares nothing for their opinion. Her voice emerges too loudly from her throat.

‘I’m going. I can’t stand this oppressive heat any longer.’

continue reading

Nouveau programme d’après JT sur M6 : Scènes de Ménages. Après Malcolm, place à ce programme franco-français au concept simple : trois couples et leur vie quotidienne. Un concept ô combien connu me direz vous, grâce à Un gars, une fille, bien sûr.

Mais la différence majeure (parce qu’il y en a une, à part le “multiplié par 3″), c’est que Scènes de Ménages n’est pas un programme court comme l’était la sitcom d’Alexandra Lamy et Jean Dujardin. M6 a choisi de nous montrer ses trois couples pendant 25 minutes, mais, pour moi, c’est bien trop long. Surtout que les gags ne sont pas très bon, et quand le programme traîne en longueur, ça fait du dégât. Cette émission, c’est une succession de courtes scènes de vie de couple (cadeaux foireux, petit-déjeuners où on fait du bruit avec la bouche…). Mais chaque scène chez chaque couple n’a rien à voir avec celle d’avant. Il n’y a pas d’intrigue particulière qui lierait les scènes, ou même un thème rassemblant les séquences ou même les couples (contrairement à Un gars, une fille où on pouvait voir nos deux amoureux évoluer dans le salon, ou en vacances, mais chaque épisode se déroulait au même endroit et contenait une certaine cohérence).

Bref, pour moi, Scènes de ménages, ce n’est pas LE programme de l’année 2009. Mais jugez par vous-même, du lundi au vendredi à 20H05 sur M6.

Our cat Malcolm, age 17 1/2,  enjoys being vacuumed, although he’s a bit camera-shy here. (My son is wielding the vacuum here.) Usually, he rolls around in ecstasy (seen briefly in the video), making sure every part gets vacuumed.  He often presents his head to make sure his cheeks are groomed.  When much younger, Malcolm would dash away at the sound of the vacuum, the door bell, any noise at all, but now he goes with flow. 

Malcolm getting vacuumed.

 In this case, it’s the soothing flow of air over his luxuriously thick fur, which, as you can imagine, is all over our house. We’re so grateful he enjoys this type of grooming.

My appointment with the gynecologist about Metformin is tomorrow.  I can’t wait.  I’m hoping that it goes well.  Since I’m in a waiting time though, I really have nothing to report…so I thought I’d share some Halloween pictures!

The hubby and I in our Halloween costumes.  100 points to anyone who can guess who we are!

(If you don’t know, the DH is Captain Hammer for Dr. Horrible’s Sing-a-Long Blog and I’m Helena Ravenclaw.  I’m a huge Harry Potter nerd, and also a Joss Whedon nerd, so very happy hubby has followed along with that one!  I made the dress myself!

I spent Halloween night at a friends house, and was gone most of the next day.  When I got home, I was exhausted so I laid down on the couch.  My dog Malcolm must have REALLY missed me because he came up and squished my face and gave me lots of puppy kisses (Mal is not a bit kissy dog, so it is a rare treat to get one from him)!  He laid on my like this with his head on my face for about 10 minutes.

My other puppy, Inara, missed me too – she curled up right next to me on the couch.  If you look in the background you can see Malcolm staring at me, too!

Well…hopefully I’ll have something to report tomorrow afternoon.  Wish me luck!

In which Helen views the house and feels the pain

The two acres of garden are quite different from what Helen had imagined over the last few weeks. The concept had intimated to her a sprawl of tended lawns and shrub beds with perhaps a rockery or kitchen garden nearer the house and some deep borders of annuals and perennials from which to gather flowers for vases.

The reality, viewed with leisure since the house is now empty and awaiting the exchange of contracts, is beyond her wildest dreams. Had reality been as she imagined it, she would have been satisfied. But nothing can prevent shock waves of astonishment and then pure excitement rolling through Helen again and again as she stands amazed at the sight which greets them from the gates.

‘Malcolm!’ she breathes. ‘Just look at that!’

And they do; for moments on end they simply stare at the expanse of traditional English woodland that opens before them behind the towering beech hedges surrounding the property. The house itself, narrow but tall, stands, detached and gabled, amid sprawling beech and pine, the tangles of bramble and fern encroaching nearly to the verandah, which protects three sides. Sunlit threads mingle in the undergrowth and light up the roofs and attic windows with a welcome that catches Helen’s breath.

‘We can… afford that?’ she asks.

‘It’s not that expensive,’ he admits. ‘No one wants the bother of travelling in from here. And it’s away from the out-of-town shopping too. But yes, it is worth having and I can afford it… You do like it?’ Malcolm sounds uncertain for the first time that Helen can recall.

‘The garden’s out of this world. Let’s look at the house,’ she suggests, moving at long last to break the trance-like immobility that has gripped them.

Walking up the gravel path to the front door is like wandering up to a fairy castle in a children’s make-believe world. ‘Where do the cars go?’ she asks.

‘Round the back. There’s a double garage. Thought you’d like to make a proper entrance from the front.’

‘You knew, didn’t you?’ she accuses. ‘You saw it when you came down last week.’

‘I saw it on the day of the interview, actually. And it still looks stunning today. But it is just a house after all. You don’t live in the garden.’

‘I shall,’ Helen vows.

And Carla? the voice in her head whispers. I thought you weren’t going to move when the time came?

‘Careful!’

Malcolm’s shout startles her and she jumps back just in time from a bramble sticking across her path. He is already unlocking the barred and studded door. Rather like the doors at Holy Wind, on a smaller scale – but that is an original and this is definitely reproduction, though rather fitting in such a woodland setting.

Inspecting the lower floor first, Helen keeps hearing the accusing voice and cannot any longer take such joy in the house. The three rooms look smaller than she had imagined, and then the upper floors seem ordinary. Even the attic does not hold the attraction she envisaged from outside: it is just another room when viewed from inside, apart from the dormers, which she admits are satisfying. There is nothing wrong, she tells herself firmly; just that the sun has gone behind a cloud momentarily.

And that you have a choice to make, the voice insists.

A choice between Carla and this house.

Between Carla and Malcolm.

Between being herself and free, and being what someone else wants her to be and therefore reduced again to a lifeless facsimile.

And which choice represents which? she asks herself endlessly as they descend to the ground floor together, Malcolm chatting away – rather unusually for him – and she forcing herself to answer.

They go out to view the back garden – if such is an appropriate epithet for the extent of woodland that confronts them – and agree that the privacy it affords is a bonus. There is enough proper garden behind the house, cleared of weeds but standing barren, for them to create a pleasant area to sit in.

‘Red brick,’ Malcolm moots, his do-it-yourself eyes growing distant as the vision grips him. ‘Red brick and a matching loggia.’

‘With wisteria rambling over it,’ Helen adds, ‘and a ledge for the drinks and glasses.’

Beyond this area, they can actually take walks in ‘their’ forest and perhaps even barbecue and eat in the tiny glades they stumble across. Wild and safe, something neither has dreamed of, they know from the look they share. Two acres of woodland to call their own.

‘Happy?’

Malcolm is waiting, expectant. Helen swallows hard and says, ‘Sort of.’ At his quizzical, partly disappointed expression, she hurries on, ‘But I do wish Carla were here to see it.  She’d love it.’

‘Hardly sensible to make the girl jealous,’ he says brutally. He is right. How could she even invite her down? It’s the same choice again, insinuating itself painfully on her consciousness. Either she stays up north with Carla or she moves on in life with Malcolm. There is no middle course of action.

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What kind of name is that for a demon to choose?

(Keith Topping, Slayer – Unofficial Guide to Buffy, 2001)