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unser Preis: 2921 Euro

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Luxus-Armbanduhr:
mit Wert-Gutachten / Echtheits-Zertifikat

Original Rolex :

Größe:  Herren-Armbanduhr
Uhr-Typ:  Rolex Explorer 2
    Oyster Perpetual Date
    Superlative Chronometer Officially Certified, Swiss Made
Typnummer / Referenz-Nummer:  16570
Seriennummer:  A322424
Gehäuse:  Edelstahl
Band / Schließe:  Oysterlock Sport-Armband
    mit Faltschließe
    mit Sicherheits-Überwurfbügel
    in der Klappe fein längenverstellbar
    Edelstahl
Uhr-Werk:  Automatik
Chronometer,  Chronometer-Zertifikat liegt bei
    um die begehrte Bezeichnung Chronometer zu erhalten, müssen die
    strengen Prüfungen des Schweizer Prüfinstitutes COSC / C.O.S.C.
    (Contrôle Officiel Suisse des Chronomètres) bestanden werden.
    Diese Offizielle Schweizerische Chronometerkontrolle prüft z.B. die
    Ganggenauigkeit in 5 Positionen bei Temperaturen von 8, 23 und
     38 Grad Celsius während 15 Tagen und Nächten
Anzeige von Stunde, Minute, zentraler Sekunde, Sekundenstopp
Datums-Anzeige mit Schnell-Datumseinstellung
    über die Schnell-Stunden-Einstellung
Besonderheiten:  Lünette mit gravierter schwarzer 24 Stunden-Einteilung
    separat einstellbarer 12-Stunden-Zeiger
        ohne Unterbrechung der genauen Zeitanzeige
    nach dem Aufdrehen der Krone ist in der Zwischenstellung der
         Stundenzeiger in beiden Richtungen in Stundenabschnitten
         zu bewegen – damit auch Datumseinstellung möglich
    der rote 24-Stunden-Zeiger wird auf der Lünette abgelesen
Krone:  verschraubt, Triplock, geriffelte Einstellkrone / Aufzugskrone
Safirglas / Saphirglas / Mineralglas
    mit aufgesetzter Datums-Lupe
Gehäuse:  hochglanzpoliert und teils mattiert / satiniert / geschliffen
Zifferblatt:  schwarz
    mit aufgesetzten Indexen mit Leuchtmasse
Zeiger:  Stahl, Leucht-Zeiger (Zeiger mit Leuchtmasse)
Nocken zum Schutz der Aufzugskrone
Gehäuse-Breite (mit Krone):  42,0 mm
Ansatz-Breite:  20 mm
für Armumfang bis zu 19,7 cm
für Längenänderung sind 5 geschraubte Glieder im Band
Kaufdatum:  23.07.1999 
Original Rolex Zertifikat / Garantiekarte vorhanden
    mit Chronometer-Zertifikat vorhanden
Original Rolex Bedienungsanleitung vorhanden
Original Wempe Garantiekarte vorhanden
Original Wempe Übersicht  vorhanden
Original Rolex Uhrenbox / Verpackung vorhanden
Original Rolex Überkarton vorhanden
Alle Funktionen intakt
Wasserdicht laut Hersteller:
    bis 100 Meter / 333 feet / 10 Bar (ATM, Atmosphäre)
Erhaltung:  Neuzustand
    keinerlei Kratzer oder ähnliches
    lag anscheinend als Geldanlage fast nur im Tresor
    sieht praktisch aus wie neu gekauft
    das Band ist ganz straff und überhaupt nicht ausgeleiert

Echtheit und Wert:

Neues Echtheits-Zertifikat / Wert-Gutachten ist vorhanden
    und wird mitgeliefert (als ausführlicher Laborbericht,
    gerichtsverwertbar und von Versicherungen anerkannt).

unverbindliche Preisempfehlung laut Gutachten:

4.520 Euro  (Preisliste März 2008)

Bei älteren Preislisten oder bei älterem Preis-Stand ist zu
berücksichtigen, dass der Artikel inzwischen einen höheren Wert hat
durch die üblichen laufenden Preiserhöhungen der Hersteller.

unser Preis: 2921 Euro

(ev. alte Preise bzw verkaufter Artikel)

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ROLEX EXPLORER 2 OYSTER-LOCK DATE CHRONOMETER ST TOPUHR

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London by Tube. 2008.

Harry Beck.
You may not have known his name until this moment but chances are that if you’ve travelled through London at any point, you’ll have seen his work. In 1931 Harry Beck was an employee of the London Underground (Tube, as it is commonly called) and he designed the Tube Map, pretty much as we know it to this day.
Cheers Harry – it’s helped me enormously across the years. xx

However, as of 2010 and with the implementation of the now relatively familiar Oyster Card which is about to stretch its powers of entry and exit far further afield, there’s talk that the Tube map will become defunct…? Hmmm.
Sure, it remains valid for the Tube itself but with Overground and buses now all qualifying the Tube Map does perhaps seem a little antiquated…

So, what next?
Frankly, I have no idea how anyone will try and replace the Tube Map and incorporate the breadth and range of the Oyster Card – a challenge indeed! I hope they manage something that’s at least tidy because for all I admire Harry Beck, I’ve still had to help out endless tourists in deciphering it!

Nonetheless, there’s a chance that those funny little leaflets, freely available from each station, will soon disappear. No more will we find them wedged into corners of escalators, skid on them as we rush on to the Tube or have them blow across our feet as we exit rush hour stations.

I think tomorrow, I will take a quiet stroll down to my local station. I will stand to the side as people rush by. I shall look at the system we have in place currently; a system that has changed with little acknowledgement from me across the years (except when my Oyster didn’t cap or they decided to charge me £3.00 for getting one – bastards! Bloody technology ) and I’ll pick up one of those tiny Tube Map leaflets and tuck it carefully away in my pocket.

In times to come, I may re-visit this blog post and be grateful. Cheers Harry.

Oyster stuffing, originally uploaded by fuzuoko.

I’m not much into Thanksgiving Dinner, per say, but I AM into oyster stuffing! P.S. Who calls it “dressing?” That sounds gross.

I hope your Thanksgiving brings you exactly what you’re into, and lots of it.

xoxo

i was right the day worked well. i felt well. things clicked for the day. i lost my phone but i’m not panicking. and i’ve highlighted all evening but it’s working. and i saw you at lunch and it felt good to be back but put my mind at rest about wanting to go back.

“you could be a role model for women in the future.” maybe he’s right, maybe i can.

“how did you end up so cynical for someone so young?”

“i’m not cynical, i’m just argumentative”

and he laughed and he walked on.

i started reading 31 songs on the bus home. and i skipped straight to a minor incident as i knew it and i know it would be part of my thirty one songs. i know it’s my ending song.

i have a new shirt and need to wake myself up tomorrow by myself. by my own means.

i’m looking forward to getting this all right. and i can feel that i’m going to work it out. and i know i can do it soon.

So, it’s finally happening. Six-and-a-half long years after it was first introduced on the Tube and buses, Oyster pay-as-you-go will be introduced on London’s National Rail routes from 2 January, it was confirmed on Monday. Two cheers – as mayor Boris Johnson quite rightly said, “After what feels like eons of negotiation and much gnashing of Londoners’ teeth we can finally announce the Oysterisation of all London’s rail services. We’ve finally ended the crackers situation of Londoners not being able to use Oyster on every mile of London’s track.”

Actually, he hasn’t – Heathrow rail services are exempted, and so are the fast trains from St Pancras to Stratford International, which begin next month. No East End plebs on those, ta. Our mayor has never been known for being a details man, you see.

I’ve done a summary for greenwich.co.uk which details the effects this will have on SE10’s three National Rail stations – on the whole, you can adapt most of that to any of the zones 2 and 3 stations in this part of south-east London. The full set of fares were covered on this blog earlier this month, and you can see what happened last week when I found one of the readers working at Blackheath.

And there’s even a colourful new map of all the new Oyster routes…

However, the price London’s privately-run National Rail companies have extracted from London’s commuters shows just who’s really in charge. Not the Conservative mayor, not the Labour government, but these private interests and their shareholders. The new fares system is fiendlishly complicated – more complex than any expert or anorak ever anticipated.

Not only does it punish occasional customers – a trick we’ve seen on London’s transport in recent years, it also completely screws some of their best customers – a prime feature of unaccountable, private monopolies.

Firstly, though, the companies are using the Oyster change to quietly slip through a stealth fare rise. Off-peak returns using paper tickets are being scrapped, in favour of a standard rate closer to what rush-hour passengers pay. To be fair, we’ve been here before. Soon after Oyster was introduced on the Tube and buses, TfL – then with Ken Livingstone behind the counter – jacked up its cash fares to a stonking £4 on the Tube in Zone 1, and £2 on the buses. That was explicitly designed to persuade passengers to switch to Oyster. It took a while for many to accept the change – but the vast majority did, thanks to the huge publicity surrounding each fare change. (And Evening Standard-based outrage, of course; some years before it introduced its own Eros pre-pay system for buying papers at a cheaper rate.)

However, unlike the Tube, boring old mainline trains don’t really make headlines unless they crash, and it’s not in the train companies’ interests to tell people they could save money by switching to a system they didn’t want to have to introduce in the first place, and that isn’t run by them. So while there was a big TfL publicity campaign to get Tube users to use Oyster cards, don’t expect one for mainline trains. It’s not even as if their ticket machines are compatible with them.

And even if you do switch to Oyster, if you travel during the day, you face paying a peak fare if you travel during the morning or, for the first time in decades, the evening rush hour. Peeking at the new timetables, it’ll be 60p cheaper to go home to Charlton on the 1901 from London Bridge than it will be on the 1855. To a Zone 6 station like Crayford, the gap opens up to a yawning £1.70. Not what the suburbs voted Boris in for. That may be a crafty ruse to free up more space for homeward bound commuters, but it’s no good for families taking their kids for a simple trip into town during the school holidays.

A higher farescale for people using both the Tube and mainline rail services in zone 1 is also another sly money-raiser. Don’t fancy the awkward interchange at London Bridge to reach Charing Cross, so want to use the Tube from Cannon Street instead? Delays at Charing Cross, and it’s simpler to use an alternative station? Tough – it’ll cost you.

Secondly, comes the oddest part, the punishing of the railway’s best customers – Travelcard holders. The very best of them, annual ticket holders, hand over more than £1,000 a year to London’s transport organisations, but have as much influence over their train services as someone who prefers to get stuck in a traffic jam each morning. However, for over 20 years, annual Travelcard holders have benefited from a third off mainline travel in the south-east of England. I have a Gold Card (for a couple more weeks, at least) and it’s brilliant. It makes a massive difference if you’re heading out for the day – or even longer – to somewhere like Canterbury, Oxford or Reading, the kind of journey where you might want to plan ahead.

But if you’re heading just a little way out of your zones, even if you have an Oyster card, you still have to go through the same hoops as you would for a night by the sea in Brighton for a quick drink with a pal in the suburbs. Ticket machines won’t sell the extension tickets required, so you need to queue at a ticket office, and ask someone for “return from the boundary of zone 3 to Bromley North, please, with a Gold Card”. All this for a ticket costing about £1.50, which probably won’t get checked at the other end. It is, quite frankly, easier to skip the fare on many journeys in London. Oyster pay-as-you-go should resolve this nonsense – but it won’t. Even though the Oyster smartcard knows it has an annual ticket on it, the train companies refuse to allow Gold Card holders to take advantage of their discounts without forcing them to queue up at understaffed ticket desks. Is this the way to treat your best customers?

And, of course, for all Travelcard holders, there’s the nonsense of the Oyster Extension Permit, not mentioned at all in publicity issued by TfL and the train companies on Monday, but it is happening. If I want to use my Oyster card for that quick drink at Bromley North, I’ll need to find a ticket machine, ticket office or Oyster newsagent, or ask them to load on a pemit, or I risk getting fined by a ticket inspector. The theory is that the rail companies want to protect against fare-dodgers because their stations don’t have ticket gates, but the Docklands Light Railway works very well without ticket gates, and without putting a presumption of guilt on Travelcard holders travelling outside their zones. Diamond Geezer studies just what Transport for London needs to tell its Travelcard holders.

Despite what Boris says, the situation’s still crackers. The fare scale is fiddly for anyone who isn’t a geek like me, people get punished for daring to use two different modes of transport, and people who put thousands of pounds into the railways get treated like children. But who’s going to stick up for rail passengers? London’s media either glossed over or ignored the downsides of the Oyster changes, with the Standard declaring it a “revolution” in a headline probably dictated from City Hall.

In politics, Labour is fatally compromised by the fact that it has created this situation by privatising every single one of London’s rail franchises, bar one – the London Overground service taken back by Ken Livingstone. The Conservatives are similarly silenced by the fact that they invented this insane system in the first place – even though Boris Johnson has said a couple of times how frustrated he is by his lack of control over London’s rail firms. Interesting how both mayors see things differently from their parties.

The Lib Dems have an effective transport advocate in Caroline Pidgeon, but once again, her credibility is undermined by the fact that her party also backs rail privatisation. Which leaves the Greens, my own party, who back renationalising the railways, but are unfortunately very quiet on the issue at a London level, which is something I find perplexing because it’s such a clear point of difference, and a if better-known would be a hugely popular policy.

So London’s voiceless commuters get screwed again, but there’s nobody who’ll really stand up for them. The politician or party who’s brave enough to take these issues on, and keep on bashing away at them, is pushing at an open door. But has anyone got the guts to take up the challenge?

See also: Two posts from Bexcentric, and London Reconnections. And more from Diamond Geezer.

This piece is an illustration for the cover of The Pearl, a novel by John Steinbeck.

The story revolves around a poor Mexican family. The husband earns his meager income by diving for pearls. When his son is stung by a scorpion he searches for a pearl to pay for a doctor to heal his child. He finds a perfect pearl in the ocean that brings optimism and joy to the family but it also places a burden on the family they have a great difficulty dealing with.

You can buy a limited edition print of this painting in my Etsy shop.

Now you know that you’ve crushed the odd cockroach before, you’ve chatted to your kids about the sanctity of life and you’ve saved the odd moth.

But when it comes to invertebrates (no backbone – the research I do on your behalf), they fall neatly into three camps in my opinion; the cute and attractive (butterfly’s), the educational (silkworms) or the bowel clenchingly horrifying, (i.e. the rest / anything that scuttles around in a cave and attracts people like David Attenborough).

Now, lobsters are invertebrates and Crustaceans to boot  and no matter what every TV chef says they are are cockroaches, bottom feeding, seagoing cockroaches.

The first person to eat one must have been desperate or clinically insane (probably the same guy who first looked at an oyster and thought ‘hmmm, looks like snot, but I wonder what it tastes like?). They’re the most horrible looking things in the world, but yummy and some people don’t like to hurt their feelings, or use old school methods the help them shuffle off this mortal coil and onto the dinner plate.

Just read on.

Don’t boil a lobster, give it a zap instead

By BILL POWER Business Reporter

Thu. Nov 19 – 4:46 AM
A company in the United Kingdom is about to lift the lid on a device that zaps lobster with electricity to kill them, and the inventor said Wednesday his humane alternative to boiling is about to give the entire industry a jolt.

British entrepreneur Simon Buckhaven said the CrustaStun system, developed over the past decade by his company Studham Technologies Limited, near London, kills the lobster with an electric charge, so the crustacean feels no “pain or distress.”

“I am entirely aware this product will be greeted at first with some skepticism among people in the lobster industry in Eastern Canada and northeastern United States,” said Mr. Buckhaven, of what he called the world’s first crustacean stunner.

But he said the animal rights movement in Europe and the United States is gaining traction by protesting the traditional method of killing a lobster in boiling water, prior to serving it with melted lemon or garlic butter.

http://thechronicleherald.ca/Business/1153489.html for further information.

This is perhaps the most ridiculous application of environmentally friendly bunny hugging technology I’ve ever come across. There has got to be a better (and more entertaining) alternative.

And now my friend meet your nemesis, the butter knife of DOOM!

Apply your mind people, life’s short and entertainment costly.

That said I’d be first in line to buy an Xbox version of ‘lobster fight unlimited’. I’d choose the coconut crab, his character would be called Scuttler McCrush and his finishing move would be the Whirling Dervish Claws of Pain (Trade Mark pending).

And you’d be forced to choose the shrimp, and I’d OWN you.

Let the battle commence

If Microsoft is interested I’d like to offer my services to project manage the game implementation, on the condition that I get to eat the other consultants afterwards (I’ll supply my own lemon and butter).

I must admit if something like this crawled into my room at 4.30 I’d crap myself, jump up on the bed, grab the nightlight, aim for the antenna and have a heart attack, all within three seconds  (TaDaaah).

For the love of God get it off me

I have experience, living in Johannesburg has provided me with some interesting insect encounters and the reflexes of a caffeine addicted Ninja.

Why hello there, I sense you're having a good night's sleep, let's work on that together

Good night and good luck.

I am not a mycologist, however I have collected edible mushrooms from time to time, typically in northern california. I found these growing on an island in Panama. They resemble oyster mushrooms I’m familiar with in Ca. I’m wondering if they are. A positive ID from anyone in the know would be greately appreciated.

i’m always in the dark with you. i never know where i stand. i really just want to know. you could make my life so much less confusing. i’m not sure if you’re ignorant to this or just don’t care. things just go up and down with us. i need to know to get a grasp on what i’m doing to myself. what you’re doing to me. you have the most wonderful way of playing with my emotions. bringing them up to a high and sending them to such a low. you can toy with me and not even know it. lose your heart, i’ll lose my mind. we’ll make quite a pair, dazzling all the time. i’ve already lost my mind. can’t you just tell me what’s going on? i rally can’t quite keep myself together with this level of uncertainty flying around my head.

and you’re so sweet and lovely. you’re doing your best to cheer me up and you’re feeling it too. and it’s not fair on you. you deserve so much better. thank you for tonight. thank you for last night. thank you for the nights to come. i really hope you pass your test soon. then you really can come to mine to eat pizza and we can talk about this in person. connected by horrible things and feelings but to a wonderful person. i’m all swirly too.

oh. and just as an afterthought. when you told me about today, i broke down completely.

Oyster device switched on after generating £1m for Orkney Friday 20 November 2009

Scottish First Minister Alex Salmond switched on the Oyster wave device today Aquamarine Power’s ‘Oyster’ wave energy device has been switched on today (November 20) after it was revealed to have generated more than £1 million for the Orkney economy through development expenditure.

First Minister for Scotland Alex Salmond turned on the 500kW wave power convertor to be tested at the European Marine Energy Centre (EMEC), which received a boost of £2.5 million in funding from the Scottish government earlier this week (see this NewEnergyFocus.com story). The device has now begun producing electricity by pumping high pressure water to its onshore hydro-electric turbine. This electricity will be fed into the National Grid to power homes in Orkney and beyond. It is claimed that a farm of 20 Oysters would provide enough energy to power 9,000 three bedroom family homes.

Speaking at the launch, Mr Salmond said: “I’m delighted to see first-hand the full-scale Oyster now installed and operating offshore. This is a key milestone for Aquamarine Power and for Scotland’s marine renewables sector. “Scotland’s potential renewables capacity is estimated to be around 60GW. Our waters hold around ten per cent of Europe’s wave power potential and as much as a quarter of its tidal power potential. The European Marine Energy Centre (EMEC) provides world-leading test facilities for Aquamarine and other companies to develop the technology needed to harness this huge untapped potential.” He also confirmed further R&D funding of almost £1m to Aquamarine Power for the development of Oyster 2, which could be installed within two years.

Oyster is Edinburgh-based wave energy company Aquamarine Power’s first demonstration-scale wave energy device. Its performance will now be monitored and the results from the testing will provide a basis for the design of the next-generation commercial-scale Oyster. It is designed to capture the energy found in nearshore waves in water depths between 10 and 16 metres. The device was first put into the water at EMEC’s Billia Croo wave testing site in August 2009. Economy boost Figures released by Aquamarine Power this week (November 19) show that the installation of the Oyster device involved more than 30 local companies ranging from engineering and construction contractors to environmental consultancies, diving and vessel hire, event organisers and photographers. It is claimed that the actual expenditure on local contractors and suppliers came to more than £1 million. In addition, the company had seven staff working full-time in Orkney during the installation of the device.

Chief executive officer of Aquamarine Power, Martin McAdam, said: “Our figures demonstrate the positive impact that wave energy can have on the Orkney economy. “A successful Oyster project would unlock £3-4 million of capital expenditure per MW installed, of which a significant proportion would be invested in the Orkney economy. A commercial wave farm could therefore represent a significant boost to the local economy and would provide long-term skilled jobs for local residents.” He also claimed that ongoing operation and maintenance would generate a further £150,000 per annum to the local economy. Convener of Orkney Islands council, Stephen Hagan, said: “Orkney’s efforts to support the development of marine renewables in Scotland has been further rewarded with the successful installation of Aquamarine Power’s Oyster device. The skills and experience developing in the county will help ensure that Orkney remains at the forefront of renewable energy developments into the future. “We remain committed to supporting this sector and ensuring that Orkney can put forward the best it has to offer, to optimise further growth and expansion in the industry.”

via: NewEnergyFocus

Making a nice change from the usual gloomy onshore wind power mentions, and their opposition, this is hopefully the forerunner of many more mentions for hydro-electric wave energy, as momentum begins to build for this arguably more sensible option – in my opinion at least. After all, the waves wave 24/7, while the wind blows… when it feels like it.

According to wave energy company Aquamarine Power, Orkney currently has “the world’s largest working hydro-electric wave energy device”, and “the world’s only hydro-electric wave energy device which is producing power

The device is sited just off Orkney, and was switched on by First Minister Alex Salmond, today, November 20, 2009, when Aquamarine Power’s ‘Oyster’ was connected to the national grid as part of sea trials.

The device comprises a hinged flap which is connected to the sea-bed, with each wave causes the flap to move, and drive a hydraulic piston. The system produces power by pumping high pressure water to its onshore hydro-electric turbine. A farm of 20 Oysters could provide energy to power 9,000 three-bedroom homes.

Having launched the first system, Mr Salmond also announced new funding of £975,000 to help deliver ‘Oyster 2′.

Further information in Aquamarines’s Press Release – Scotland’s First Minister launches Oyster.

“i don’t think humans were designed to wait for things.”

why should we wait? it’s going on for so long now. not just me. you too. everyone. why can’t you just make up your mind? why are you making this go on for so long? can’t you just decide? make it simple. simple for me. simple for you. and you are telling me how easy it is to ‘get into’ music but i don’t care. i just want you to keep typing. can’t you make this easy? if you can make amps and inputs and outputs easy, make this easy.

and i’m talking to you and we’re clicking. about waiting too long and boys. and you’re feeling the same but it will work. it’ll click. it’ll fit. it will go right. i can promise that.

and tonight. i miss you so much. i need that little bit of time with you on my own. and they sat next to us and i shook and i felt my insides crashing and i bit my lip and i rushed off and i knew i was going to cry. i couldn’t help it. and you followed me. and hugged me. and i sent you back to the table and i went off to the toilet and washed my face. and i cried. you picked up the pieces. and you put me back together again.

i smoked and i cried and i painted last night. i drank the last of my apple juice that i keep on my windowsill for emergencies. this was my emergency. but i didn’t. i stopped myself. pulled myself back from going that little bit too far. it worked. and i’m slowly working again.

your drawings have gone in my box. i need you so much more than i think i do. we all do.

A lot of people do not like oysters. Even more people get really sick from eating oysters. The only time amazing things, like a pearl, come out of oysters, is if they’re sufficiently agitated by a grain of sand. No one wants to be compared to an agitating piece of sand or an intestine-resembling mollusk. I don’t get it.

Awesome song, awesome band. Watch the video.

The Laad Bazzar or the Bangle Street was loud and bustling. We found hundreds of pearl jewellery shops along the narrow streets, besides cloth shops, bangle sellers, food emporiums, costume makers, booksellers, artisans, and what not almost one can imagine.

We went to check out bangles at a shop and found a variety of bangles, some ranging from as less as Rs 50 and going beyond even Rs 5,000. We were astonished to see the exquisite range of lac and glass bangles in the shop.

We wanted to see pearl shops. We wanted to know the difference of genuine and fake pearls. We went to a shop looking out for a pair of ear rings and asked the shop owner about the difference between the genuine and fake pearls.

Oysters are bivalves. The shell’s valves are held together by an elastic ligament. This ligament is positioned where the valves come together, and usually keeps the valves open so that an oyster can eat.

As the oyster grows in size, its shell also grows. The mantle is an organ that produces the oyster’s shell, using minerals from the oyster’s food. The material created by the mantle is called nacre. Nacre lines the inside of the shell.

The formation of a natural pearl begins when a foreign substance slips into the oyster between the mantle and the shell, which irritates the mantle. The oyster’s natural reaction is to cover up that irritant to protect itself. The mantle covers the irritant with layers of the same nacre substance that is used to create the shell. This eventually forms a pearl.

So a pearl is a foreign substance covered with layers of nacre.

Pearls come in a variety of colorrs, including white, black, gray, red, blue and green. Most pearls can be found all over the world, but black pearls are indigenous to the South Pacific.

Cultured pearls are created by the same process as natural pearls, but are given a slight nudge by pearl harvesters. To create a cultured pearl, the harvester opens the oyster shell and cuts a small slit in the mantle tissue. Small irritants are then inserted under the mantle.

In freshwater cultured pearls, cutting the mantle is enough to induce the nacre secretion that produces a pearl — an irritant doesn’t have to be inserted.

While cultured and natural pearls are considered to be of equal quality, cultured pearls are generally less expensive because they aren’t as rare.

Most pearls are treated or enhanced in one way or another. Saltwater cultured pearls are bleached to even out body colour and non-nucleated freshwater pearls will become whiter if they are soaked in a bleach solution or heated for a period of 2-10 hours.

But how to distinusih the fake ones from the genuine ones?

Imitation pearls bear the slightest resemblance to a natural or cultured pearl. There are mainly three types of imitation pearls — mother of pearl, solid glass beads and wax-filled glass beads. To make them more realistic, they are dipped into a solution called essence d’orient.

Detecting imitation pearls is not a difficult procedure because solid glass beads are much heavier than either natural or cultured pearls, plastic beads are too light, imitation pearls are too perfectly shaped and they feel smooth when drawn against the teeth.

Six important qualities to note:
1. Luster: Look at the clarity of images that are reflected in the pearl’s surface. The closer to a mirror image you see, the better the luster. Pearls with fine luster also seem to glow warmly from within.

2. Size: The size is measured by its diameter, and ranges from 8mm to the rare 18mm. The larger the pearl, the rarer it is.

3. Shape: The rounder a pearl is, the rarer and more valuable it is.

4. Surface: The more flawless the surface of the pearl is, the higher it will be valued. However, a flawless pearl only comes about once in about every million, as pearls are the result of a natural process, and an oyster will usually leave some sort of unique mark on the finished pearl.

5. Colour: Colour has little influence on the actual value of a pearl. The rarest and most desired are the white “rose” colored pearls.

6. Weight: The weight of a pearl is not always provided. Pearls are usually measured in carats.

After getting the required knowledge we started looking out for some good pearl ear studs in shops.

Later, we went to a cloth shop to buy churidhar pieces and we were unsuccessful in bargaining. For they easily made out that we were not locals and quoted a pretty high price. We found the material not worth of the amount and left the place.

With the little gyaan we acquired on pearls, we bought two pairs of beautiful ear rings at a pearl shop.

When we reached home after a tiring day, a surprise awaited me.

Keerti, Gayatri and me

I was welcomed by the kids with a birthday cake.

Little Nidhi was eager to celebrate the occasion and it was like a small fest at home.

Nidhi

Most, surprising was the birthday greeting card with a handwritten drawing by Gayatri, Keerti and Nidhi.

Gayatri, me and Nidhi

the bag-carried charms of lonely school-girls

blue crushed dreams drowned at noon-day

vented fortunes melted and re-created

morphed laughters reflected in a magenta pool

shadowy remains of the over-large green lantern

vultured skulls swinging by their guitar strings

music honeyed lions pondering the dancing stars

there a stare – here a smile – everywhere death

paper-thin mannequins feasting on shrimp salads

oceanic largesses buttoned and stored sideways

sun-dried tomatoes drank with overmuch salt

zion led saints proportioning those fairly decked nuns

swing crushed remains – the bread cracks of yore

the vegan induced convulsions of some carnivore

emperor dreamed lords dressed in nakedness

street whispered symphonies overtaken with sun-dried laughters

slithering oysters wrestling with some stranded toe

darling buds gnashing their teeth as they gently kiss those receding winds

suffocated wedding bands recalling past conquests

suffused pleasures desiring a proper vessel

the sweaty palms of boys chained in boarding schools

green sullied roof tops laced in brown jacaranda leaves

death masked violins overran with a craving for strings

there be but a remainder of mats – herded feet whistling their displeasure

overmuch excitement – the sure emblem of lovers at war

gloried bosoms rounder than the fairest august apple

middle apportioned fortunes starved of the seasons fallings

i pose a conundrum – suppose i cared

those circular yearning s teasing the pathetic fortunes of our failings

trombone led bands cowering beneath flute dresses

museum honeyed murals of masters unknown

leather clobbered loins remained upon the chiefest lizard cliffs

shop stewed beans rustling in their metal prisons

willows distantly dancing a fresh of the flowing muds

the punished sounds of choirs hanged at dawn

boot driven passions remained on a plastic plate

a loose lip here – a shoe there – everywhere death

numidian mushrooms sheltered beneath kilimanjaros shoulders

kissed birds overcome with grief

the booked imaginings of shy pupils giggling in rain

pampered lobsters sunbathing in their coffins

oiled thighs standing erect besides michelangelo’s david

yellow scented lusts of husbands given over to theatre

comedy driven longings – the perpendicular stares of wronged lover

the karoo streams – kalahari basins – toureg chants – gorgon encampments

they all be but simple venison servings

table laid charms bottled in salt

how fair are those dancing bears – even the same fur-less devils

suspended aloft that soon disappearing iceberg

night stars rushing purposefully to their deaths

sychellian crustaceans wallowing in grief

the bushveld  tropics leaning gently upon fair mozambique’s cheeks

soon-approaching monsoons announcing their arrival in himalayan chants

train hurried suns murmuring for a lack of attention

the haired touching of lovers stranded at and in the sea

easterly badlands housed in some papal estate

toe-tugged yearnings elegantly decked in straw skirts

of epher’s children – salute them with a gentle tug in either direction

craven red shoes seated upright in some rainy mud hut

of mau mau and his abandoned harlots – whistle only and touch not

burning forests housed wholly in her mouth

olympian straits considered and rejected

righteousness forced upon unwilling saints – they chose sin instead

snow-covered churches overcome with laughter

coat pocketed jealousies of rivals resorting to righteousness – dueling

scorched lands immigrating downward and into hell

cherry scented mustangs awash in fresh aloe

dew carried feet refusing the flung serving of fresh boots

the remaining african horn fed to the nomadics of eritrea

diseased waters bottled and sent to epher’s descendants

soap deprived ankles painted in valley yellow

dark suns prejudiced at the sight of blue oranges

suited bullfrogs desiring an audience with the priest

mournful dirges of some tragic anthem lorded over the plains

serengeti woodlands teaming with overmuch grasshoppers

lateral – dental – palatial

the rice grown hatreds of aphrite’s rude cousins

millet rinsed touchings of loves and lovers clothed in burnings

sight condemned ancients rehearsing their final movements

hurried motionings of sharks harpooned at the high deserts

drunk instructors condemned to the wine cellars

drought moustaches grown arrogant with the occasional brush

ankle dipped hands dancing on freshly painted ceilings

roman centurions sheepishly waiting upon the priests

the back covered lashes of whips crying at dawn

zebra teethed lions lying sideways – the feed was much

meditating monks nightly preaching patience as they doubt its efficacy

rib jointed searchings of parents transfixed upon some tragic statute

guitar stringed understandings of lovers soon to be loosened

hurricane gales refusing freely gifted medications – they instead desire destruction

church chimed machinations – the loud shadows of sarcadortal hems

leather-covered sweaters speaking of soon returning father abraham

marsh covered bibles resurrected to their mournful parents

papered lips pretending to care yet found out

fortuned souls buried in moses’ bosoom

piano starved school children emaciated and in need of fresh cassava

drunk pilgrims desecrating their holy places

curses courtiers given over to overindulgence

pleasured hips forgetting how to dress

earth abused servants despising their hoes

equator neglected bears doubly aggrieved

polluted musics distilled in yellow barley

tomato crushed dreams of lovers separated by war

tributaries of untamed passions spewing from eva’s bosom

tribal instincts of mothers caressing their pops – confused loves

crucified sailors condemned for purity of passions

the yellow ribbons circling about in their blue trousers

bus driven fears of known futures

boiled mannequins cascading in sheltered rage

the oiled ankles of lovers destined to fail

teaming marshes pregnant with the anticipation of your impending hanging

what would shylock do

such purity contained in those unassuming holy loins

not a penny more or less

the weighty pendulums of earthly expectations placed shoulderwise

upon such lowly flesh – pray for his rich poverty

freely consider the run – jonah did

circular chains layered outwardly upon her cheeks

wandering stares of the decomposing tortoise

craged backs of prisoners rejoicing at the sight of a whip

unseemly lovings of the nile priests

snow married rains competing for the mastery

roaming preachers begging for fresh underwear

any recall the simple pleasures of death

hyacinth troubled waters refusing to suffocate

consider the daffodils and their fair cousins – the black mamba

following – continue your runnings

street dancing muses overtaken with giggling willows

haggard poets taking up whistling

layered burnings of victims returned from their nightly flames

the bleached denials of lovers untrained in the art – of lying

caressed lips of saints hanged and burned by the eclipse

green creeks snaking around eva’s proud towers

ever populated with the bagged trifles of smiles sealed and delivered

expected rains falling only the honest sinners

touch not but freely reach

the flasked remains of wars forced upon the innocent

dirt condemned shoulders praying for rain

honeyed nights scribing the moanful chants of reunited lovers

built ruins of some ancient king – god

boot-straped cowboys jeaned and straightwith saddled

onion ringed stairs of pilgrims unfurling their carpets in prayer

stoned devils loosened on an unassuming friday afternoon

the shamelessly chanted charms of choirs rehearsing compassion

free range grains frustrated at the sight of a sickle

garden manufactured sandals covered in cassava peelings

the red vases of fortunes’ train soon approaches

temple plundered riches housed in some temple

boat driven suspenders tugging the wily doe

arabian summers spend it hibernation

square run destinies married to music slithered hands

love-worn seagulls taking up residence on greenland’s beaches

the pilgrim stares of submerged penguins

superfluous gains of tormentors destined to burn

collected unicorns aimlessly peddling their air cycles

terrace covered nakedness of summers spent at the arctic

zerubabel conducted symphonies arrested by the passing eclipse

the retrograde joys of past loves recalled in regret

of pains  known and grown out of – try harder

vase-shaped frustrations – even the same man nurtured

sandals of ambitions dead at birth

any care pass along the rope – how make you a proper noose

how sweet the contradiction daily raping humanity

baleful mourns of innocence hushed in the still of the night

bewildered stares fixed upon the priestly robes of the temple vultures

scavengers given over to overmuch prayer – before consuming their flesh

teeth mapped meats shaking with fear

with love and for love yet always serving self

hades scented saints marching triumphantly towards their sabbath pews

those proper passions gently housed in some harlots bosom

care consider her kind

rude awakenings of skirts hugged one upon another

round fingers – the meandering coins emblazoned with sea fortunes

sword kissed deaths transfixed upon some tragic mount

that they too desire to commune with father moses – any care find him

knee-nursed yearnings of some crawling pop

kettle-whispered lovings of mothers overcome with joy

loves journeyed in darkness only to be condemned by the searching light

some waffled longings of imprisoned cousins – twice removed

fortunes plundered and straightaway surrendered to mightier foes

watched yearnings of those round face anthills

care imitate the socialized hatreds of the sheppard

joyous singings at the news of the stranded winters upon the seas

today be the burial of some tragic figure – some son of three parents

scared remains of lovers burned in love – rather it be love that burned then -

or love caused these burnings – love burned them – in a word: they be dead

the dragon costumes singularly common yet without a mother

companies of soldiers bewailing their blood-muddied swords

pure-bred expectations of fathers married to daily runnings

parisian harlots – even those decadent damsels of notre dame

lamp lighted walkings of some painted corridor

symphonic laughters given over to overmuch prayers

recall the butterfly laced travels of righteous odysseus

the drought peopled apartments quietly screaming for chardonnay

touched purities of priests aggrieved in spirit yet glad in the flesh

palm lined libraries of cairo giddily seated adjacent jerusalem’s famous lamps

summer covered carpets laced with gerbera ferns

nightly runnings of forbidden lovers conspiring their next escapes

apostolic sureties of saint eva – blessed be her musical loins

poems collected in empty wooden wine skins

coerced laughters masked in the lying giggles of the anaconda

prayerful knees of the arabian monk wrestling with an empty sea shell

rehearsed returns of the blue women of the green lagoon

liberian tiles refusing their ordained marriages to cuban cements

any care hear of the loud shrills of the debauched crickets

plimsol expectations of princes ignored in plain sight

the returned piercings of lapped waters dancing in a great danes mouth

restrained sheep recalling their wild histories as dakota mustangs

of sacrifices a dove yet wholly unrepentant

rosy mornings carried in an empty jar

that the sistine chapel was erected by a harlot – aye even eva

that most righteous and upwardly decked saint of the weeping sheets

known of most for her convulsing inducing hands

virgin pilgrims remained upon their store-bought piety

some raisin cured yawns of the whited sepulchers housing her blessed remains

glass layered centuries of accusations returned and loosened

sweet-honeyed chirpings of the wooly mammoth

crane-spoted hyenas jumping rope in the serengeti plains

crowned turtles desiring the company of boiling lobsters

any recall the tearful repentances of proud nabucco

slaves become masters and enslaving their fellow slaves

how that in running – they instead lost themselves

have a care

Ah, the joys of London Underground – our twice daily opportunity to gain intimate knowledge of a total strangers armpits in temperatures akin to re-entering the Earth’s atmosphere, and that’s when the drivers can be bothered to turn up…and all this for fares which increase above the rate of inflation year on year.

Today I even got to sample the delights of the Baker Street platforms for an extra twenty minutes as my train home was delayed that long for no apparent reason – of course this was irritating at first, but when the station staff had confirmed exactly how late the train was a small part of my almost-destoryed soul was brought back from the brink. At that point it was 15 minutes late – that magic number which nowhere near enough commuters seem to know about – magic because that’s the point that we get to travel for free!

It’s called the “Customer Charter” – any delay of 15 minutes or more which is not deemed as “beyond our control” by Transport for London (i.e. anything that doesn’t involve freak weather, terrorism, etc.) means you are eligible for a full refund for your journey. You can either collect a form from the station, fill it out and send it off – or complete a customer charter form on the TfL website. This really is a lot simpler than it sounds, people get scared off by the words “fill out a form” – it takes two, maybe three minutes and they send you a voucher with your refund which you can then get added as credit to your oyster card at any station.

You may think it’s not worth it, maybe you think the tube isn’t THAT expensive or these things don’t happen THAT often – but surely this is a MUCH better way to register a complaint than a normal letter? Just seeing the number of people that got off the train at my stop tonight, if every single one of them had claimed their fare back it would have been a nice little protest, let alone everyone else that was delayed across the network today. What better way to encourage TfL to improve their service than to hit them in the pocket?

So next time you’re stuck on a platform or even worse inbetween stations as the driver mumbles some information over the tannoy just keep an eye on your watch and get ready to claim your free travel…and if it’s only 14 minutes late make do us all a favour and stick your foot in the door for a few seconds the next time it closes!

As many of you are no doubt already aware, i spent Hallowe’en weekend in seattle with jo-ann and trevor. The trip started off with a somewhat ill-fated trip to Tan Popo for all-you-can-eat sushi. The sushi and assorted Japanese foods were fantastic, my ill-fated remark refers rather to Trevor’s stomach and his need to share it’s relative fullness for the rest of the night via assorted grunts and groans which Jo-ann and I only put up with because we were both well-sauced by this point.

The next morning it was up and out (at least in theory) on our way to Seattle. Trevor and Jo-ann had rented a fantastic grey Prius for our little road trip south of the border and somewhat predictably I now want one – in all fairness so does Jo-ann. Anyway, the road trip was lovely and we soon arrived at the home of Cale and Sacha. Needless to say, drinking ensued. That night we were off to Showbox SoDo – which was a wicked venue, like a big old warehouse, making me feel very much like i was Kyra Sedgewick in the movie ‘Singles’ – to see The Airborne Toxic Event who were brilliant. We did shots of tequila and drank supercans of PBR all night and it was amazing. (BTW, my favourite song by The Airborne Toxic Event is Sometime Around Midnight – click to see the video)

The next day was largely a hangover day and we sort of hung around the house acclimatising to the surprising warmth of Seattle. Later Trevor and I ventured out to the supermarket unsupervised which proved somewhat disastrous as it was not unlike two Id’s who’d left their Ego at home. We came back with over $100 worth of beer, chips, and pop, and beer only costs (!) $10 a case in the states. Any man who can pass a bag of Lay’s Limon or a six-pack of Land Shark Lager is a stronger man than I.

That night we stayed in and watched some terrible hallowe’en fare. The best of the three movies we watched was called ‘Shrooms’ and it was about some supposed friends who flew from America to Ireland on holiday to take mushrooms. I say supposed friends because very early into the film we found ourselves wondering why people who hated eachother as much as this bunch did would waste a thousand-ish dollars flying across the atlantic to spend a holiday together. Furthermore, are there no drugs in America? Who flies to Ireland to take mushrooms? Is this some sort of trend I don’t know about? Is this what all the kids are doing these days? Needless to say all but one of the “friends” ended up dead and the killer, after getting away with all the murders, escaped, for some reason, into the forest. It actually wasn’t a terrible movie apart from these and maybe a few more plot holes. We also watched ‘Stan Helsing’ which was just plain fucked up.

The next day it was time for some sightseeing in downtown Seattle starting with Pike Place Market. We stopped in for a Starbucks, Jo-ann had a thing for the fishermen, and Trevor, for some reason, drank a Hangtown Mary which included a raw oyster dangling nausea-inducingly from a cocktail pick. Later, despite protest from Jo-ann, we ascended the Space Needle which was actually properly amazing. It’s not right in the downtown core so you have a view of that, Puget Sound, and the whole surrounding area. Also, you can walk outside right the way around which is really cool; we had a drink up there and all loved it.

Later, we all kitted up and proceeded to get our drink on. After some initial indecision Sacha decided on Dorothy over Lederhosen, Cale topped his outfit up with a mustache, and I affixed my Cher wig and slipped into my poncho. Upon leaving the house Trevor was already quite drunk, rather foreshadowing the events that later transpired, but at this point each of us were blissfully unaware of anyone’s drunkenness but our own.

After arriving at Showbox at the Market – again, amazing – we got stamps on our wrists and proceeded to enjoy the party-time sounds of Seattle’s very own Cool-Ade. It was a brilliant party and then all of a sudden Cale came up to the rest of us and said that Trevor had been kicked out for being too drunk. After some initial disappointment Cale hatched the rather masterful plan of re-dressing Trevor in some extra bits and pieces, including my poncho and wig (I was also wearing a fantastic psychedelic shirt). So Cale painstakingly removes the Fred Flintstone costume from the now balance-challenged Trevor and replaces it with the wig and poncho. Only after he is fully re-dressed does Trevor point out the big black X that is drawn over the entry stamp on his wrist, precluding him from returning at all.

After a fall in the parking lot and the poncho moving again from Trevor, back to me, and then to Sacha, we’re now on our way home and out of downtown Seattle having only arrived an hour previous. All is going swimmingly again until we’re speeding down the freeway and Trevor decides to open his door to vomit. Only we’re going 65 MPH. And he’s not wearing his seatbelt. So a bit of shitstorm unleashes in the car and Jo-ann and I are trying to hold onto Trevor as his relieves his turbulent stomach onto the busy road (and a little bit onto the car door).

Now, just as we’re trying to find our way back onto the freeway after diverging in order to let Trevor finish up what do we see but A LANDSHARK BILLBOARD! Realizing that this is indeed a stupendous moment Sacha pulls the car to a hault and Cale and I dance a jig beneath it as Jo-ann tries capture the moment on film rather unsuccessfully.

Upon arriving home Trevor headed straight for bed and despite thinking it was a good idea to drug him awake – we failed – the night died down after that. Needless to say Trevor woke up with the mater and pater of all hangovers and we hit the road home.

En route we stopped to get Jack In The Box which was BRILLIANT, Jo-ann decided she needed to try every flavour of vitamin water, and Trevor usurped a coat that I liked at the outlet mall for his own – coatstealer. Finally, the next day we had lunch at the Black Frog before Jo-ann and Trevor had to head back to their real lives in the Big Onion. It was a fabulous trip.

A few things I learned:
1. Trevor’s new nickname is Captain Obvious as he has an uncanny ability for vocalising the obvious.
2. Showbox is fantastic. Go there if you’re in Seattle.
3. Ditto, the Space Needle, it’s surprisingly good.
4. Avoid Trinity night club at all costs. It was aweful and an event transpired as confusing as it was angering.
5. I am quite good at the playing the drums in Rock Band.
6. Do not show Trevor a coat you like at an outlet mall.
7. Lay’s Limon are amazing. (Why do we not have them in Canada?)
8. Jo-ann and I are quite good at swaying a la Sonny and Cher, or at least we seemed to be after a few drinks.
9. Bluto may be the best name ever in the history of horror films.
10. Do not go to Ireland to take shrooms.

Lost in London? Got a transport problem or need to find a quick way home a.s.a.p? On the back of your Oyster card is the Oyster card helpline 08453309876. SAVE THIS NUMBER ON YOUR MOBILE.  The people on the other end of the phone are nice and helpful. They’ve sorted me out numerous times. That’s it, so go on, go out!

Remember the raw oyster ban from a recent Regulation of the Day? I am happy to report a partial victory (hat tip to Jacob Grier).

The ban, due to take effect in 2011, has not been repealed outright. But, in response to public outcry, it has been delayed:

The FDA announced it would commission a study to explore alternatives to reducing the illness vibrio vulnificus, and also do an economic analysis of how the ban would impact the oyster industry.

“Before proceeding, we will conduct an independent study to assess how post-harvest processing or other equivalent controls can be feasibly implemented in the Gulf Coast in the fastest, safest and most economical way,” according to an FDA news release.

According to uber-transport geek blog London Reconnections, Oyster pay-as-you-go won’t be introduced to south-east London’s mainline trains until 2 January. Indeed, Southeastern has confirmed this on its website. But at the moment, if you use Blackheath station, and you’re travelling towards central London, you might be able to get an illicit sneak preview.

On the London-bound platform at Blackheath station, two Oyster card readers have had their black covers removed. One still has a NOT IN USE sticker on it, together with a warning about usage of carnet tickets, abolished in Tube zone 1 a couple of years back. Good to see old machines recycled, I guess. The other has its NOT IN USE sticker half-ripped off, and of 8.15pm last night, was working. I know, because I gave it a try. I’ve still got a zones 1-3 Travelcard on my Oyster (for the next couple of weeks, anyway) so my ticket was valid anyway. It responded with the usual BEEP! and an “ENTER” message on the screen.

I jumped on the 2019 to Charing Cross, and hopped off at Lewisham. Down to the Docklands Light Railway platforms, where I knew there was an Oyster top-up machine. I checked my balance. It’d registered me at Blackheath.

I didn’t touch in at Lewisham DLR but took the next train, and touched out after a ride to Cutty Sark station. There, the top-up machine confirmed it… Oyster is alive and well at Blackheath station.

Of course, I should point out that anyone trying to do this with a pay-as-you-go Oyster instead of having a paper ticket is liable to be fined, as Oyster is still not valid on most of Southeastern.

This is probably on test, it may well be that all stations have to go through this, and it’ll be a common sight between now and the new year. There’s probably a small army of people doing nothing but travelling around London, checking how the system works. But it’s an encouraging sign of progress after so many years waiting. Let’s hope it works properly when it does come in.

London commuters will be able use pay-as-you go Oyster cards on the city’s suburban overland rail network "in weeks", officials say…. From BBC News. Full story

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