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Description of Sony HDRXR260V High-Definition Handycam 8.9 MP Camcorder with 30x Optical / 55x Extended Zoom and 160 GB Hard Disk Memory (2012 Model)

Sony HDRXR260V High-Definition | Product Features

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Shure SE215-K Live Sound | Product Features

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Model: SE215-K Color: Translucent Black Click Images to View Higher Resolution! Featuring Dynamic MicroDriver, the SE215 delivers detailed sound with enhanced bass. A detachable cable with formable wire enables easy replacement and a secure, comforta…

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MEElectronics M6-CL-MEE Sport | Product Features

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The hour is here
I hear my voice echo in my head
My guts telling me, I’m in the wrong place
But my heart saying, I’m doing the right thing
If only I could take a little time to think it through again
Maybe there won’t be so much noise in my head now
I can’t go back anymore
I’m now stuck with my fate
Is this what my destiny planned for me?
Am I sure this is my path or someonelse’?
The same questions keep going through my mind
It feels as though I’m having a cold feet
But for what?
I won’t know until the moment is gone
Nervous and sweaty
This outfit even makes me more uncomfortable
Here comes the first question
“Are you ready?”
I have no straight answer now
If I say yes, it means, I’m never going back
If I say no, it means, I have to start all over again
I will just go with, yes!
Now thinking to myself
Hold on, “am I ready for this?”
I hear nothing else, as my mind keeps pondering
Now, here’s the question that gives me the creeps
“Do you…….as…….in…..untill death……?”
Now the noise in my head is too much
Ssssshhhhh…….Silence!
I must focus now
What? What’s the question again?

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Description of Sony HDR-CX260V High Definition Handycam 8.9 MP Camcorder with 30x Optical Zoom and 16 GB Embedded Memory (Black) (2012 Model)

Sony HDR-CX260V High Definition | Product Features

• 8.9 megapixel still image
• 30X Optical, 55X Extended Zoom
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• 1920×1080 Full HD 60p Recording
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Sony HDR-CX260V High Definition Handycam Camcorder 1920×1080 Full HD 60p Recording w/ 8.9MP still image Up to 5 hours of recording with 16GB* embedded Flash Memory Optical SteadyShot image stabilization with Active Mode Wide Angle G lens to capture e…

Create stunningly beautiful 1920x1080p Full HD video with the Sony Handycam HDR-CX260V camcorder. Take the shake out of your movies with Optical SteadyShot image stabilization with Active Mode. Back-illuminated Exmor R CMOS sensor provides excellent …

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You are looking to buy or finding where to buy Infant Optics DXR-5 2.4 GHz Digital Video Baby Monitor with Night Vision, right? To buy Infant Optics DXR-5 2.4 GHz Digital Video Baby Monitor with Night Vision We need to look at quality. And reliable source of supply. Today I recommend Infant Optics DXR-5 2.4 GHz Digital Video Baby Monitor with Night Vision from Amazon.com that will be useful for you. You can see details of Infant Optics DXR-5 2.4 GHz Digital Video Baby Monitor with Night Vision before you buy. Infant Optics DXR-5 2.4 GHz Digital Video Baby Monitor with Night Vision, and after your purchase, simply waiting at home.

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Description of Infant Optics DXR-5 2.4 GHz Digital Video Baby Monitor with Night Vision

Infant Optics DXR-5 24 GHz | Product Features

• 2.4 TFT screen with super sensitive built in microphone
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Compact and lightweight – you can comfortably monitor your baby while on the go. The original Infant Optics DXR-5 is a compact video baby monitor that will give you a peace-of-mind no matter where you are in your house. Designed with portability in m…

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Nicely ironed school uniforms crisply hung outside wardrobe doors in anticipation to be worn.

It was not just a long weekend, it was both father’s and youth day.

Drinks had been bought on Friday afternoon and they were enough to keep you hang-overed for the rest of your life.

There were celebrations everywhere. Even an amateur dj had a gig.

The theme as proposed by people unknown to us; “working together for youth development and a drug free South Africa”. It meant nothing, we are educated, unemployed and drugs are our only sense of freedom. 

I rose to the most annoyingly loud sound of a house or was it a kwaito track? Never mind. And then it hit me; this is a public holiday and sadly, that is all it will ever be to some.

It is a Sunday and a very special one at that, so hold the thought of an early morning church service. My compatriots need to defeat the hang-over accumulated on the early hours of this morning with a tender, delicious braaied meat. This will be followed by an ice cold cider or should it be a steaming hot tot?

A hang-over murdering breakfast was followed by a visionless loiter around the neighborhood until the time for the important qualifying soccer match came.

They sat in front of a 54 cm television screen, every one looked tidy in their black and white uniform. They didn’t know the significance of their outfit but it felt appropriate.

Have you ever been in Hillbrow and witnessed Nigerian brothers having a conversation in their native language? Well, the noise in this house was nothing compared to that. There was bickering, swearing and at one time I swore the television set was seeing its last minute.

When Bafana Bafana scored a magnificent own goal, that was the end of it. This sorrow needed to be shed, fast. Beers were out of the refrigerator, into hands right into the blood stream.

The speakers showed us what they were made of. The noise level tripled the one my ears were settling to. This was like a shebeen on a pay day evening. For a mere conversation, the voice needed to reach the highest frequency possible.

Vuvuzela’s had been abandoned and lifeless. Beer was now doing the talking. Secrets were revealed.

My compatriots are young and to them, this is a celebration, a joyful noise that means freedom.

In 1976, it was a different story. A tale that means little today to those who enjoy the fruits of its outcome.

Learners took it upon themselves and marched with the purpose of breaking oppression boundaries. This became a battle which saw some of them take their last breath.

In pursuit of equality, recognition and freedom, innocent young souls became victims of tear gas and rubber bullets. In 1976, youngsters traveled a journey to youth emancipation.

Today we celebrate, in whichever way that suits our mood a freedom that took away lives.

After 37 years, the wrath, has little if any meaning at all. We could be lost, we could be lacking knowledge, we could be clueless but we’re lucky because in a non impressive way, we portray freedom. The human in our young mind has forgotten, as people are prone to, the minor things we take for granted were achieved through the shedding of blood.

Today we are emancipated from the chains that held the 1976 youth but we too face boundaries which shrink our magnitude. We however attempt to break these boundaries single handedly in a thousand different directions.

June 16 2013, maybe you could have done it more differently and maybe you did achieved the best results and maybe you spend it commemorating the day your father walked out of your life and never came back, maybe even that thought was difficult to trace for you were just an embryo when he left. No matter your form of expressing appreciation and way of commemorating, I hope you had a fruitful youth and father’s day.

This whicked compilation with a chicken on the front cover, starts with the german punk rock of Fleischlego. I can imagine this song made with Nina Hagen in mind but the male singer is also doing a great job of asking the great question if things are really art, or generated by drugs. Well that is what I think this track is about, as my german language skills are a bit so so.. This tune rocks with its nice rolling beats & rough guitar that swings its rawness in to the night.

One of the reasons to dive into this compilation is seeing the band ‘TÓTH KÍNA HEGYFALU’ on it. The things that are available by this band are extremely original and a nice insane mix of punk, ritualistic weirdness and strangeness. The track that they have delivered here is a great way to get to know them and their sound. Expect the unexpected rarity that will wipe all other alternative music under the carpet! A mix of pure punk alienation of the enjoyable experimental kind!

Andreas Glauser is the third one to find on this cool compilation of fun, exploring penetrating high tones and buzzing noises that might twist your ears in a knot. Even though this track seems to be an exploration of a single sound that hums and buzzes its way to the end, it is somehow a calming experience with a punk attitude. It keeps the listener awake by giving it high voltages at certain times, and buzzes at the same time into a sleepy dimension.

Than its time for Niku Senpuki who claims almost 9 minutes of this compilation with a nice experimental track. Strange sounds are forming an enjoyable rhythm. Something that moves, transforms, get bypassed through a collection of filters and twisted by real time knobs. This feels a bit like a member of ‘Kraftwerk’ that fell asleep on a self-made synthesizer.  Funny stuff!

Of course there is a time to rock, to ask questions, to sleep and a time to dance. The track by artist ‘Holzkopf’ is here to make your body move with its old school break-beats lo-fi strangled squarewaves and nice funky (and even psychedelic) guitar rock. A nice experiment that really knows how to make us swing our butts!

Karl Heinz Jeron brings us back to our senses with a strange sounding experimental track that seems to be some kind of edited soundscape with wind, sea and light weight electric bleebs in the background. It is sounding weird as it all feels edited and loopy, which isn’t something you normally hear in a soundscape. But hey, who says it was a soundscape? It’s experimental stuff that flows about for your relaxation.

What also flows about is the submission of Artificial Memory Trace. A more than 10 minute listening session of something that comes close to the work of Karl Heinz Jeron. Sampled sounds are getting re-edited in a stretched out rhythmic minimal soundscape. Wet sounds, wooden things, and light weight crackles, and other listening material.

The tracks on this compilation seems to get longer and longer, but that is actually a nice thing as it gives the listener the time to really trip and enjoy the sounds the artist have cooked up for us. Elekrojudas gives us something very minimal and pretty with its track ‘nexus’. It contains a spacious and friendly sci-fi feel, with nice loopy synth work, vocoder vocals that relax us while kidnapping the ears to a space in another galaxy. And surprisingly when we arrive there, feel good electronic music arises with laidback beats as its main thing to hold on to. This in combination with a feel good sweet melody that loops its prettiness makes this track in one of the more relaxing pretty tunes on this compilation.

The last track is by the label owner himself and is also the longest track on this free downloadable compilation. More than 12 minute of an experimental sounding soundscape that fills up the nice gap between reality and space. Soft breathing noises, rumbles of unknown sources are deeply findable in the mix, high tones that feel like they are coming from dusty and windy hallways find their way through. A strange track that is pure listen material for people who are in search for urban sounds to calm down too. One moment the artist resurrects the feeling of someone snoring its way through it, this maybe the artist himself sleeping the track away, or suggesting the listener might do the same.

9 tracks that explore experimentation between punk, alternative music, minimal soundscapes and even dance is what you are getting when downloading this for free. It may seem on paper as an odd mix but actually the tracks really suit each-other. Basically there is something for anyone who is into experimental music and all what lives on the edge of it. A good way to get to know some new artists and their sounds, and of course to have some fun time while listening. Download it for free over here:
http://emerge.bandcamp.com/album/interceded

<KN>

I checked to see if I’d somehow blown a fuse: no. I finished my French Toast and watched the movie as the energy drained out and the light started blinking: low battery, low battery. Finally, the screen went to black and the hibernate button blinked slowly on and off. I couldn’t connect to the Internet, I couldn’t watch TV, and I couldn’t listen to the radio to see if there was a report of the outage. I decided to go old school: I pulled out a book and began to read. The neighborhood was quiet: no air pumps, no stereos, and it was too early for many of my neighbors to be up, so no voices echoing down the street. I drank my cooling tea, nursing the last sips. No storm was in the sky; the sun shone, the birds chattered, and the cats slept. I opened the windows to bring in the breeze, and I felt cool slips of wind sliding along my skin. I read further, marking places of interest with small slips of paper. It felt months, years, since I’d read like this: no cramming for a class or work, no catching a few minutes before other tasks or trying to read while flipping channels, searching, always searching, for something better. There was nothing to distract me but the words in their orderly patterns, the sound as I fingered each page, the slight smack of my lips as I drank the last of the tea. I finished the book, and then I glanced at another: it was wonderful.

Two and a half hours went by. Suddenly, it was almost too quiet. I pulled out my MP3 player and listened to it for just a few minutes, so as not to drain the battery too much. The sound of human voices and snippets of music felt almost foreign after such profound quiet. There was no mention of the power going out. I did the dishes; it was so quiet that the sound of plates in the metal sink made me wince. I must confess, I was starting to get just a little bored and a little tired of all this quiet. I made a sandwich, cold food only since I couldn’t heat anything, and worried about the contents of the freezer and my precious cheese drawer. I brushed my teeth. I checked my sunscreen. Finally, I left the house.

Suddenly, there was life: the stimuli of visual and aural input. On the boulevard, workers were up in lifts, working on wires. One traffic light was out, but others were on; I saw lights on the other side my street, so the outage at my house was relatively contained. I went to work: everything was on. It felt strange to see the glow of the computer screen in front of me, to fire up the radio programs, to flip on the lights. I worked, and then I took a bus to shopping, and when I was home the lights were back on. I checked with the power company while I was at work: they’d turned the power off to protect some workers: understandable, though some warning would have been nice.

However, I have to admit that there was something soothing about that silence, that paring down of one’s options, the shutting down of all that cacophony of noise and sound. On a typical day, the phone screams its need for my attention, the news on the radio proclaims the latest tragedy, the air pump fires up again and again; too often I feel almost schizophrenic in trying to attend to this and that and those simultaneously. Watching TV, for instance, has become an aggravating exercise of skipping from commercial to commercial, all too loud, their flashes of light trying to get my attention, the programs full of hordes of tanned, stretched, bouffanted people with pouty lips shouting at each other and drinking champagne. If I’m smart, I turn the TV off and do my dishes or clean the litter box or put my clothes away. All too often I don’t, and then wish I had. Sometimes, I dream that there is a giant plug I can pull, if only for an hour or two, to turn off all this sound, the sounds I make and the sounds of others, or a cone of silence, as in the old TV series Get Smart. Of course, on the other, hand, a little silence goes a long way, and all-too-quickly I crave stimuli again, want to catch up on my programs, desire to check to my email and gaze at shoes, ah, shoes: herein, the strange paradox of modern life.

Last FM

In Hertfordshire today an interesting thing happened involving a loud sound which surprised people because of its high volume.

Around the county regular townsfolk with jobs that don’t usually need to be done on Sundays and rarely evoke any more passion than, “Yeah, it’s alright. It pays the bills,” awoke to the sound of the thing which they hoped – if it was interesting enough – would be something to talk about on Monday morning at work.

But unfortunately, as it turned out, the thing wasn’t that good after all.

Police received hundreds of reports from people claiming to have experienced “a thing”.

“We were inundated this morning with people telling us about the thing. We had to rope in staff from neighbouring counties to take calls. We even had people from a mobile phone call centre taking calls. And when we we pressed people to describe the thing a bit more vividly than just ‘a thing’ they all said you probably needed to hear the thing when it happened otherwise you won’t understand,” said police chief Ray Bond, who apparently drove around the country roads of Hertfordshire looking for the thing.

Graham Trite, who witnessed the thing with his ears from behind the closed curtains of his bedsit above a kebab shop said it “sounded like a sort of loud thing that happened very briefly and then stopped happening. For about two seconds I was concerned that something dramatic was happening/had happened but then I stopped worrying about it and had breakfast.”

Mary Kennelworth, an ear-witness from Stanstead Abbots said: “I heard a thing and it sounded quite interesting so I called the police who said that it sounded like something they should probably look into. And I imagine they did that because we now know what the thing was.”

Mrs Kennelworth, 45, continued: “I wish the police had left the thing a bit of a mystery for longer because I’m quite disappointed now about how uninteresting it was.”

The thing turned out to be a sonic boom from a jet engine. Police have publicly apologised for how uninteresting the revelation was.

“We were really hoping it was an alien/godzilla/actual thing from the original film The Thing attack,” the police report said.

The rolling news story has since died due to lack of interest.

This split cassette starts with the track by Richard Ramirez called ‘Dirty Hole’. At first a lot of rumbling, probably preparations for the set, almost let you feel the tension of beginning a performance. Puttin all your gear in place an going ‘testing, 1, 2, testing’. After that the noise kicks in. Pure hard wall of noise swallows you like a wave. After being almost out of breath you reach the surface of the sea only to hear other waves coming right at you. Hard, harsh, squeeling waves of sounds. Ranging from low to earbleading high. Statics, rumbles, blasts, everything to give a noisehead a really good appetite for destruction.

On the other side of this split, Curifix Eye starts its track ‘Scroll’ with a pure midrange wall of statisism. A bit more gentle than the former track. The sea has definetly clamed down a bit here. The track can be explaned the best as being washed up on the shore and hearing the droning noise of a continues wave pounding on your head. Really subtle changes in this track make it worth to listen too.

Overall these two tracks a really diverse, but complement each other just perfectly. I read that there where only 3 cassettes left, so hurry up for a nice day at the beach. And remember: ‘Don’t feed the sharks’.

http://foreverescapingboredom.bandcamp.com/album/richard-ramirez-crucifix-eye-split-c32

The five minutes leading up to lap swimming are always the worst part of my workout.  Kids are screaming and running as their swim lessons come to a close.  Parents are chatting on their phones or to each other.  The old ladies arriving for water aerobics cluck about their vegetable gardens and grandchildren.  Car engines and the continuous splashing of water into the walls rumble and slap in the background.

Whenever I work out, I listen to music.  Loudly.  I drown out life and thought behind a beat and do my thing.  I think of nothing as I run.  I count while lifting weights, but nothing substantial enters my head.  It is a blissful escape from myself, despite the muscle soreness.

Lap swimming does not give me this escape.  In these five minutes I am overwhelmed by noise.  I slink over to my picnic table, the one by the corner of the pool where my lane begins.  I’ve caught the cute college girls lifeguarding for the summer watching me before on this walk.  I wish I had the confidence to wink at them while taking my shirt off.  Instead, I angle myself behind the slide so no one can see me.

I continue stretching and loosing up my arms and shoulders.  I slide the goggles over my eyes and adjust them until it’s uncomfortably tight around my eyes.  That how you know that water won’t seep in, painful pressure in the soft patch of skin beneath the eyes.  I slide the nose plugs for the backstroke into my cheek, hooked at the corner of my mouth.  It is hot in the summer and the humidity has left me feeling grimy.  The last thing I do before getting in the pool is stepping immediately behind the slide, blocking everything from sight, and slide out of my shorts.  I wear a knee-length jammer, surprisingly modest for glorified skin.  I’m at my insecure in the fifteen second it takes to get into the cool shock of the pool.

The noise has died down at this point.  The kids, their parents, and cars are gone.  The old ladies are still talking over the sound of the water, but it’s duller.  I stretch my neck first to the right, then to the left, one last time.  I slap my arms around my chest, hitting the opposite shoulder blades.  With a glance at the giant clock on the pool house, I inhale and drop underwater.

Immediate silence and the gentle pressure of the water greet me.  I use my downward momentum to compress my body, rotate forward, and push off the wall.  I instantly feel clean as I feel the smooth, gliding sensation over my skin.  I rise to the surface and begin stroking, but not breathing yet.  This is the best my form will be all afternoon.  My shoulders unclench and the rhythm for the swim is decided.  I cross the entire pool and breathe just before going into the flip turn.  I dolphin kick off the wall and feel my back begin to loosen.  I complete the first lap, stand-up and face the opposite side of the pool.  I sigh as I stretch out my arms one last time because I know the next thirty-two laps will suck.

I have a routine of strokes I go through to help relieve monotony and to increase the muscles worked.  I do four free, four breast, and then three back.  I do this twice, and then reverse the order on the third set.  Numerically, it looks like this: 4-4-3-4-4-6-4-4.

I’m only aware of the aerobics class or other swimmers through the motion of the water.  I hear faint movements through the water at times, but all I really hear is my hand breaking the surface, my gasps for air, and my thoughts.  You cannot escape yourself underwater.  There is pressure, pressure, pressure in the silence and no musician can drown out the music of the deep.

When I switch from free to breast, my mind decides to think about everything I try to avoid.  It’s the hours spent in frustrated disappointment at another fruitless job search that causes pain, not the stretching of my chest muscles.  I speed up to escape these thoughts, but you can’t outswim yourself.  I try to distract myself in ways I consider productive.  I single-handedly solved all the problems my current “job” possesses every time I get in the pool, even if I never mention or implement them.  I mentally reorganize my bookshelf.  I come up with story plotlines I never write down.

I stop briefly to slide my nose plugs on before continuing into the backstroke.  The sun bears down and illuminates all the flaws I see in myself physically.  I’ve lost thirty pounds and it shows, but I only see the me I was then.  I’ve never been tight or toned, but I feel potential when I swim.  It’s part of the reason I hate getting out of the pool after a mile.  I’ve felt the distance and done the work, yet nothing changes in three summers of swimming.

I’m one-third of the way there the next time I stop.  I remove my nose plugs, clean my goggles, and stretch out.  This is the last time I will stop or I’ll never make it past half a mile.  I glance at the clock and figure out how long it’s taken me on average to swim a lap.  My breath isn’t ragged yet, but I feel my chest rise and fall in the sun deeper than usual.  I descend again, push off, and begin the series all over again.

Laps twelve through twenty-three are the worst part of any mile.  My muscles begin to add their voice to the water’s tumultuous silence.  My arms ache with every stroke, begging me to give up.  The sun feels perfect on my back and all I want to do is crawl out of the pool and sleep.  Every muscle in my body is tight.  My mind begins to wonder if this is finally the day definition will begin to appear.  The next flip turn reveals this is not the case.  I swim harder in anger and frustration and my arms ache louder and I’m only on the second lap of the free style.  I gasp back and forth down the pool for six more laps before switching to the backstroke.

The first three backstrokes are always awkward for me in this six lap segment.  There are no lane markers to alert the swimmer when to begin the backstroke flip turn process, so it’s a trial and error moment that changes with every swim’s pace.  Mine is somewhere between my elbow and hip passing the ladder.  I’ve run into the wall more than I care to admit, and I’ve started turning ten feet before the wall by accident before, too.

The fourth lap is my favorite lap of the entire mile.  The flip turn in the shallow end is finally timed right and I feel a glimmer of good form.  As I approach the deep end, I inhale the most air I possibly can, preparing for the first deep water turn.  As I flip over mid-stroke and immediately do half of a front flip into the wall, bubbles stream from my mouth.  I push off the wall and I go deeper than I have been all swim.  The silence is immediate and my entire mind stops thinking to assess the change.  I see clouds floating through the surface of the water as I dolphin kick as hard as possible away from the wall.  I see my entire body undulate like a wave, propelling me towards the next wall.  My lungs begin to ache from the exertion of this time underwater.  I break the surface with a whale’s gasp and fly down the pool.  I do this two more laps.

The final collection of breast strokes is a sheer battle of will against my mind.  It tells me to give up with every single stroke.  My muscles have loosened once more, but fatigue has set in and my ankles are sorer than I can explain.  I am taunted by the closeness of the finish line, but my pace has dramatically slowed.  Up and down the pool, twenty-five meters at a time.  Up and down the pool, fifteen gasps of air at a time.

When I flip into the final set of free style strokes I begin to race every person in my life I am jealous of.  I am mentally transported to an Olympic arena and my goal is to make everyone whose life is better than mine jealous of my skill in the pool.  I have slaughtered the law students by the end of the first lap, and I pull away from the grad school students halfway through the next flip turn.  The athletes are keeping pace, but I am biding my time.  My pace rises, my breathing fights to get enough air into my system as my strokes rapidly increase.  I pass the newly married and the new parents at the end of the third lap and I begin my final lap.

I sprint. My arms are crashing into the water.  My fatigue is screaming louder.  The star soccer player falls away to my right.  I flip turn and head back to the final wall.  Michael Phelps and Ryan Lochte have nothing on this dolphin kick.  My stroke helps me pull away from everything.  My wake is behind me and I have smooth water as I finish the last lap.  I am finished.

I stand up and the wake wave crashes into my back.  It’s refreshing as I pant in the sunlight.  But everything else crashes back in as well.  Thirty-five minutes later and I am back where I started.  Nothing has change in any arena, except now I’m ravenously hungry.  I’m exhausted, and for no visible result or reason why.  I crawl out of the pool, walk to the picnic table, and lay across the top in the sun.

I can’t tell if life is a lot like lap swimming, but lap by lap I arrive at a mile.  So, maybe one day by one day, I will arrive somewhere better than here.  Or that if here is the final destination, that by the time I work myself away and back thirty three times I have changed enough to realize what here actually means.

Christian Fennesz is an Austrian guitarist active in electronic music, often credited on albums simply as Fennesz.
Fennesz uses guitar and laptop computers to make multilayered compositions that blend melody and conventional musical instruments with harsh, irregular glitch-influenced sounds and washes of white noise. He lives and works in Vienna, Austria.

Image Source: http://haoli.fr/

http://www.fennesz.com/

This is going to be a highly contested match between John Cena and The Big Hungry…I’m so ready!

“The draft Environmental Impact Statement implies that none of Drakes Estero can be classified as wilderness because of Johnson Oyster Farm. This is misleading. The company’s buildings and the access road must be excluded but the estero need not be. The water area can be put under the Wilderness Act even while the oyster culture is continued — it will be a prior existing, non-conforming use. The Reed memo previously cited seems to be speaking to such uses as this. The harvesting operation might be made more compatible if the Park Service were to require Johnson to use electric powered boats.”

For the full letter, click on or copy and paste the below link into your web browser:

1973.05.30%20-%20Sierra%20Club%20letter%20to%20NPS%20re%20PRNS%20EIS%20comments%20%2528see%20pg%20on%20oyster%20farm%252c%20A-51%2529

Yet i have been asking for strong faith. Doesn’t this come with a price? The greater the attack the Greater the Glory God gets. If i can not handle the small attacks, satan throws my way. How can i handle the big arrows? When your spouse is sitting there watching you struggle and does not help. This is from the Lord. He wants you to rest in Him. Seek Him for help. Strength to Love your spouse when satan is trying to make them out to be the enemy. i am honored to serve God no matter how He calls me to serve.

He is so kind though. He always directs your attention to the Beauty He provides. Like the cat resting at my feet. To remind me that if a cat doesn’t have to worry surly His child does not either.
God is showing me how i use to run on self and my views of the world.

Now He is taking me to Seeking His View of the situation at hand. i believe this is to prepare me for greater attacks and works unto His Name. If i seek to die for His Name Sake, then the little things of this world better not affect me so much. They Will get the best of me. If i try to fix them, analyze them, control them.
i am finding that the problems of this world is just what i need to go to God. For when life is smooth sailing i can drift away from Him. (and in hard times when i try to fix) God is showing me to see the smooth sailing times as reprieves and soak in His Beauty and Blessings. This strengthens me for next go around.

i pray this example helps someone i am outside it is beautiful. i have honeysuckle in full bloom. There is shade, cigs, coffee, and the cats are all ok, so is hubby. Yet satan wants me to see my husband as avoiding me. Why? so i will not look at God’s provision, protection, and Beauty. he wants me to long for something that is not for now. Right now God wants me to hang with Him. And He wants hubby to rest. So i will Praise God, for this beautiful day and be glad that i can have time alone with God. Without having to do errands, or dote on my hubby. That time came and went, without satan getting the best of me.
i pray this speaks to someone. See i am a very affectionate person and love romance. My hubby thinks that is only in the movies. i have been Blessed to know it is not (movies counterfeit God). So satan tries to get me to want that 24/7. That is not how it works. Sometimes you never get it. So i say to satan “God doesn’t want that for me right now. He knows Best. He will give me more than i dare ask for if i praise Him without seeing/feeling”.

Side note look forward to the day we don’t need noisy lawn equipment to keep garden looking nice. Now i know why i wanted a lot of land. But God has me looking at Him through the noise. Praise Him He is Worthy.

i so want to got to N.Y right now alone. So Father if it be Your will let me go Protected and Ready to Serve you if You ask me. Please give financial provision as well. Thank You You are Faithful.
Father may all who read Know You Love them with an EVER LASTING LOVE. BE GLORIFIED and may anything misleading be made clear through Your Spirit. No one can know the heart, Only God knows our hearts so i must keep  this in mind: is not about me, but who i may possibly affect. i never want to lead others astray only to THE FATHER. never to bring shame upon His Holy Name.

New KRK City live at the Railway Club, 12/12/12.