Yes for Breakfast - Biscuits and Granola

A rainbow!We've been wishing for a fluffy tender breakfast biscuit these days, and without margarine, it's been somewhat difficult baking up the perfect biscuit. With coconut oil, however, the results are pretty close! We found an easy baking powder biscuit online and made a few adjustments:Baking Powder Biscuits2 cups spelt flour1 1/2 Tb baking powder3/4 Tb sugar3/4 tsp salt1/4 cup coconut oil, firm (cold or at room temp)1 cup non-dairy milkCombine dry ingredients in a large bowl. In the dry mixture cut in coconut oil as you would margarine. Add milk to the large bowl, and combine until just blended. Flatten the batter out a little or roll out on parchment, then form or cut out 7-10 round biscuits. Bake at 425 degrees F for 10- 12 minutes or until just golden.Of course we like having different kinds of biscuits too, with different textures and flavors. So, out of the King Arthur Flour Whole Grain Baking Cookbook, we made the Cornmeal Maple Biscuits. We adapted the recipe of course to add in some crushed cornflakes instead of just all cornmeal, which gave the biscuits a nice texture. We did half of the recipe a maple flavor like the recipe states, and then the other half we did an herb version and added dried basil, celery seed, and dried dill. Both were delicious and turned out great! A cross between cornbread and biscuits.Cornmeal Maple Biscuits1/2 cup cornmeal1/2 cup wheat flour1 Tb baking powder>1/8 tsp salt2 Tb coconut oil, firm1/4 cup + 2 Tb non-dairy milk1 Tb maple syrup5 Tb corn flakes, crushed (1/2 cup flakes before crushed)for an herb variation you can add a mixture of herbs (about 1 - 1 1/2 tsp total) and instead of 5 Tb maple, sub in 1 Tb agave.Combine dry ingredients (except corn flakes) in a large bowl. Mix maple syrup and milk in a small bowl. In the dry mixture cut in coconut oil as you would margarine, then add cornflakes. Add wets to the large bowl, and combine until just blended. Flatten the batter out a little or roll out on parchment, then form or cut out 4 round biscuits. Bake at 400 degrees F for 12 - 15 minutes or until just golden.Another favorite breakfast treat is homemade granola! Sooo much cheaper to make your own, and it makes a ton! We love having this with dried fruit or fresh fruit and non-dairy milk, or adding other cereal like flakes or cheerios, or putting it in yogurt or ice cream. A simple base that can be easily adjusted to add different spices and sweeteners.Easy Whole Grain Granola2/3 cup each of spelt flakes, barley flakes, and rye flakes (or try other grain flakes or even just oats!)2/3 cup oat bran or wheat germ1/4 cup agave syrup or maple syrup1/2 - 3/4 tsp vanilla extract (or try maple or almond extract)2 Tb oil2 Tb waterPlace a parchment paper on a large baking sheet. Combine all ingredients, then spread out on the baking sheet. Bake at 300 degrees F for 15 minutes, then stir, then bake another 15 minutes. Makes 2-3 cups.Mmm Breakfast. So satisfying. Miss Emma is sure happy :)May your day start right with breakfast! - LK Sisters

Yes for Breakfast - Biscuits and Granola

A rainbow!We've been wishing for a fluffy tender breakfast biscuit these days, and without margarine, it's been somewhat difficult baking up the perfect biscuit. With coconut oil, however, the results are pretty close! We found an easy baking powder biscuit online and made a few adjustments:Baking Powder Biscuits2 cups spelt flour1 1/2 Tb baking powder3/4 Tb sugar3/4 tsp salt1/4 cup coconut oil, firm (cold or at room temp)1 cup non-dairy milkCombine dry ingredients in a large bowl. In the dry mixture cut in coconut oil as you would margarine. Add milk to the large bowl, and combine until just blended. Flatten the batter out a little or roll out on parchment, then form or cut out 7-10 round biscuits. Bake at 425 degrees F for 10- 12 minutes or until just golden.Of course we like having different kinds of biscuits too, with different textures and flavors. So, out of the King Arthur Flour Whole Grain Baking Cookbook, we made the Cornmeal Maple Biscuits. We adapted the recipe of course to add in some crushed cornflakes instead of just all cornmeal, which gave the biscuits a nice texture. We did half of the recipe a maple flavor like the recipe states, and then the other half we did an herb version and added dried basil, celery seed, and dried dill. Both were delicious and turned out great! A cross between cornbread and biscuits.Cornmeal Maple Biscuits1/2 cup cornmeal1/2 cup wheat flour1 Tb baking powder>1/8 tsp salt2 Tb coconut oil, firm1/4 cup + 2 Tb non-dairy milk1 Tb maple syrup5 Tb corn flakes, crushed (1/2 cup flakes before crushed)for an herb variation you can add a mixture of herbs (about 1 - 1 1/2 tsp total) and instead of 5 Tb maple, sub in 1 Tb agave.Combine dry ingredients (except corn flakes) in a large bowl. Mix maple syrup and milk in a small bowl. In the dry mixture cut in coconut oil as you would margarine, then add cornflakes. Add wets to the large bowl, and combine until just blended. Flatten the batter out a little or roll out on parchment, then form or cut out 4 round biscuits. Bake at 400 degrees F for 12 - 15 minutes or until just golden.Another favorite breakfast treat is homemade granola! Sooo much cheaper to make your own, and it makes a ton! We love having this with dried fruit or fresh fruit and non-dairy milk, or adding other cereal like flakes or cheerios, or putting it in yogurt or ice cream. A simple base that can be easily adjusted to add different spices and sweeteners.Easy Whole Grain Granola2/3 cup each of spelt flakes, barley flakes, and rye flakes (or try other grain flakes or even just oats!)2/3 cup oat bran or wheat germ1/4 cup agave syrup or maple syrup1/2 - 3/4 tsp vanilla extract (or try maple or almond extract)2 Tb oil2 Tb waterPlace a parchment paper on a large baking sheet. Combine all ingredients, then spread out on the baking sheet. Bake at 300 degrees F for 15 minutes, then stir, then bake another 15 minutes. Makes 2-3 cups.Mmm Breakfast. So satisfying. Miss Emma is sure happy :)May your day start right with breakfast! - LK Sisters

Chenrezig, May you stay until samsara ends…

Our bus arrives at midday in the hill station of Dharamsala. Im on my way to McLeod Ganj, the famous Tibetan settlement, and home of the His Holiness the 14th Dalai Lama. Our bus wheezes its way up the steep Dhauladhar mountains, watched meaningfully by monkeys. The road grows steeper and starts to zigzag up the mountainside, forcing our driver to make wobbly hairpin turns at each corner. Oncoming traffic, mostly Tibetans on motorbikes, stops to watch our bus driver adeptly navigate the serpentine roads. The spectacle of the bus lurching forward, rolling back a little, bumping into a tree, spinning the tires, delights all of us; the crowd gapes and laughs with a mix of astonishment and horror, like theyd stopped at the side of the road to watch a doe give birth. We are even treated, after one perilous corner, to joyful applause.
The bus lets us off at the Dharamsala bus station, where we transfer to a more nimble jeep, which takes us up to McLeod Ganj for the almost-free price of seven rupees. I untie my pack from the roof and walk with the British girl Id met on the bus in search of guest houses.
After two hard weeks in India, Id decided to come here to boost my spirits a little bit. The place came highly recommended. McLeod Ganj is a little city sitting on the cap of a mountain, overlooking the stunning Kangra valley. It is a major centre for Buddhism, as well as yoga, meditation, etc. It is also the home of the Tibetan government-in-exile, presided over by that lovable simple monk, Tenzin Gyatso, aka the Dalai Lama (or HHDL, as hes called). Monks in maroon and saffron robes walk the streets and bow politely to me as I pass. There are elegant Western ladies in saris, and men wearing skirts. People talk and hold hands and smile and hug. Steam rises from the pots of a small Tibetan ladys roadside food stand. The air crackles with potential; there is vivacity and excitement, unlike the profoundly Indian cities Id visited so far. Except for the cows prowling the streets, and the odd rickshaw, it looks like another country. I feel like I have entered the mythical city of Shangri-La, and its full of dreadlocked backpackers.
In any case, Im thrilled to be here. I find a dirt-cheap, clean guest house that has a balcony with a view. On the balcony below, a ponytailed Columbian guy gives a Tai Chi lesson to a group of tourists. Across from me is the Kangra Valley, and to my left, a snow-tipped mountain with a crisp treeline.
I have lunch with the British girl on the balcony of the Kunga Guest House; we agree that it will be tough to leave this place and go back out into India again. I eat Tibetan momos, steamed dumplings stuffed with cheese and vegetables, and they are delicious. The customers passing through the restaurant are a varied and eclectic group indeed: a strange German wearing a rainbow vest covered in embroidered peace-and-love platitudes (and his email address), aristocratic English ladies, groups of Indian businessmen, a New Age Chuck Norris, Tibetan monks who order nothing but tea, various French people dressed like Indians.
I take a walk down to the temple, where monks debate in the courtyard, finishing off each point with a clap of the hands and stomp of the right foot, as if to cast it off to the higher realms. Around the temple are Buddhist bookshops, Tibetan medicine clinics, Indian touts, Western-style bars that serve pizza and beer. Dharamsala is a strange blend of the exotic, the spiritual, and the banal. A tourist town, it gives Westerners what they want, or more specifically, what Indians and Tibetans think Westerners want (pizza is less popular than thentuk; a nightclub on Jogiwara Rd, X-Cite, seems always to be empty). Under the neon signs and shouting matches, the local culture hums along, oblivious to the din of motorbikes and dance music, monks walking in silence to their evening discourses and elderly Tibetan ladies spinning prayer wheels and chanting: om mani padme hung. Both worlds are accessible to everyone. To be a tourist in Dharamsala is to be simultaneously a guest in the home of an ancient civilization of mystics, monastics, and seekers-of-truth, and, a place where you can buy bootleg Led Zeppelin concert DVDs and drink (terrible, Indian) beer under a mountain moon and a blinding canopy of stars. It is absolutely perfect. Ill stay here for a while.

You Ask, I Answer: Depression & Vitamin D

I just got my blood labs done to test for vitamin D deficiency.My doctor said that my recent depression symptoms and joint pain could be resulting from that. I knew about rickets and vitamin D deficiency in children, but what is this chronic pain/fatigue/depression stuff in adults? How does vitamin D deficiency play a role in that? -- Christine (last name unknown) Via the blogThanks to more funding -- which means more research -- we are finally getting a glimpse at all of Vitamin D's important functions.Many people don't realize that the term "vitamin" isn't even 100 years old (that anniversary will occur in 2012).Vitamin D, meanwhile, wasn't discovered until 1922.In any case, recent research on vitamin D status, depression, and joint pain appears promising (more studies are needed before any of this can be established as fact, though).As far as depression is concerned, this is the reasoning:* Blood samples of individuals experiencing clinical depression show lower levels of25-hydroxyvitamin D (the active form of vitamin D measured in blood).* The brain contains vitamin D receptors, which vitamin D uses in the synthesis of vital peptides and compounds.* Recent studies on individuals suffering from Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD) concluded that those who supplemented 600 International Units of vitamin D reported feeling better more quickly than those who did not supplement. It is worth noting that neither group used special UV lamps for the study.This is not to say that vitamin D "cures" depression. The current line of thinking is that low vitamin D status can exacerbate some types of depression, and that correcting this inadequacy may be one factor than can help speed up recovery.As for the second half of your question -- since Vitamin D is tightly linked with calcium and phosphorus in bone metabolism, it only makes sense that inadequate levels could have an effect on joints.The latest studies theorize that deficiencies of vitamin D make it more difficult for the body to repair cartilage and joint damage from arthritis.I completely side with scientists and researchers who recommend daily supplementation of 2,000 International Units of vitamin D for the following groups of people:* Dark-skinned individuals* Adults over the age of 65* Anyone living north of Atlanta (from October to April)* Anyone with limited sun exposure

Motivating!

Some people out there say I'm not into Streaming as much anymore.... since I've bought the farm and have sold all but our pride and joy - the SOTR.. so, I've been out mowing the spot out back that will be our own little slice of Airstream heaven alot this summer. Now it only has to get green! So, here are my motivating photo shots for those out there that can not come close to being "Into Streaming" as much as I.... so - what's the formula for AirstreamIntoItNess? I know it has the following variables in it that cover 1 Jan - 31 Dec... (# of rallies attended, # of miles towing your OWN Airstream, # of thumbs ups or walk ups at gas stations, # of years in the WBCCI, year of Airstream (bonus if it's in the 50s) (minus points if it's a 70s), # of nights spent in the trailer, # of Caravans particpated in, a visit to the factory, WBCCI member, VAC member, TCT member - what other variables are there and then what's the formula??) - enjoy the photos! Thanks for the motivating shot Paul!Thanks for the motivating shot Marc! These guys are motivating!This advertisement is SO Motivating!This guy motivated me so much I rallied in Michigan last year!Of course, any SOTR and Torpedo in the same shot is M-O-T-I-V-A-T-I-N-G!Our 59 Buick towing WILL be motivating!Getting stuck on a hill is Motivating too! Go Dick, Go! If Dick only knew what was ahead - the last motivating photo!! Anyone coming to a rally motivates me! Of course, flying flags are MOTIVATING! Vintage Water Decals drive the motivation!An Airstream returning 50 years later to its birthplace is VERY motivating! I wonder if Fleetwood gets pictures like this? Off to the races - of course the SOTR is in the lead! By four Globetrotters at least. Racing Caravanners motivate me. Polished aluminum - nothing motivates me more! The fabulous 50s motivate some... what were the 60s and 70s... not so motivating, right? My 400th Blog post - can you say M O T I V A T I O N ?

EA Mobile releases two more franchises on Apple App Store

EA Mobile has announced that it will bring a couple of its biggest global franchises to the Apple App Store, and they are the Tiger Woods PGA TOUR and Need for Speed Undercover. Both titles were specially developed to cater to the special capabilities of the iPhone and iPod touch, where both graphic quality and simulation experience are emphasized. Touch capability will be used by players in Tiger Woods PGA TOUR before they can draw back a golf club to tee off for a round at Pebble Beach. As for Need for Speed Undercover, players will need to learn to outrun the police while using the accelerometer feature when navigating roads. Tiger Woods PGA TOUR Tiger Woods PGA TOUR makes its debut on iPhone/iPod touch offering 120+ holes across seven of the most famous golf courses in the world including Pebble Beach, St. Andrews, and TPC Sawgrass. EA Mobile introduces the one-of-a-kind, touch-n-drag Swing Meter providing subtle visual feedback to achieve the perfect swing. In addition, players can swipe the screen to manipulate the direction of the ball spin. This is the only game on the market that allows players to play as or against Tiger Woods and other pro golfers such as Annika Sorenstam, Vijay Singh, Natalie Gulbis and Retief Goosen. Players are pulled into a virtual round of golf as they are surrounded by stunning 3D graphics, dynamic camera angles and true-to-life sounds as well as play-by-play commentary throughout the game. With Tiger Woods PGA TOUR, players can escape and play a round of golf anytime, anywhere. Need for Speed Undercover The highly anticipated, #1 racing franchise Need for Speed Undercover comes to iPhone/iPod touch. This action-packed, intense racing experience features 20 of the world’s hottest cars including the Porsche Carrera GT, and Lamborghini Gallardo – all of which you can make your own with aftermarket spoilers, multiple wheel options, body kits and a variety of paint schemes. It is no surprise that EA Mobile took full advantage of the unique features these devices offer, allowing users to corner and drift at 150mph+ with precisely-tuned tilt control steering and Nitrous Boost and Speedbreaker activation with the swipe of a finger. Unique to racing games, players are drawn into a storyline as they accomplish over 20 covert missions lead by Maggie Q via full motion cinematics offering hours of gameplay. The attention to detail in this game provides an immersive experience including sweeping camera angles, realistic 3D cars and environments, intense impact-crash sound effects, ambient street noise, and destructible objects. This is one of the must-have games of the summer. Guess gaming life on both the iPhone and iPod touch will be different with these two titles being released. Check out their pricing on the Apple App Store and get your game on while you wait for your girlfriend to get her hair done at the hairdressers. Press Release

Month fruit and vegetable

Harvest of the month

1.grapefruit ,lemon ,potatoes,mandarins,cumquats

2.broccoli,cabbage,beets ,beans

3.carrots,peas,leeks,green onions

4.strawberries,turlips,raddishes,pear

5.spinach,cucumber,avocados

6.melons,peaches,plums

7.peppers,garlic

8.celery,fennel

9.apples ,corn,kiwi

10.pumpkins

11.potatoes,chives

12.oranges,mushrooms

Dangerously Cosmopolitan

Writing better, whining and learning, and reinventing those corporations.
Kurt Vonnegut on Writing Better --
Find a subject you care about
Do not ramble, though
Keep it simple
Have guts to cut
Sound like yourself
Say what you mean
Pity the readers
Should small businesses whine? --
Thank you for your inquiry. To answer your question we are NOT an big company like Amazon we are actually a small company, That is why it does take us a little longer than others.
Anti-Hero of the Day: The Constantly Whining Business Man --
In the end, the always whining business man is probably ignorant and incompetent. It's a matter of honor to stop complaining, otherwise quitting is an option to consider -- for vendors, employees, and ultimately, for the poor man himself.
Our Googley advice to students: Major in learning --
Management guru Peter Drucker noted that companies attracting the best knowledge workers will "secure the single biggest factor for competitive advantage." We and other forward-looking companies put a lot of effort into hiring such people. What are we looking for?
... analytical reasoning.
... communication skills.
... a willingness to experiment.
... team players.
... passion and leadership.
Learning? Try Polyhedral Maps --
Intuitively, distortion in polyhedral maps is greater near vertices and edges, where the polyhedron is farther from the inscribed sphere; also, increasing the number of faces is likely to reduce distortion (after all, a sphere is equivalent to a polyhedron with infinitely many faces).
Corporate re-invention --
How do large tech companies like Dell have to re-invent themselves in order to make the grade? To keep their ever-growing army of customers and shareholders relatively content?
Cosmopolitan cosmopolites. Dangerous freedom. Play it where it lies is just that.
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Peer pressure, vanity and behavior, motivation tricks and hacks, success and pain, and how to excel, Celebrate Your Beauty.

Soup Month: Cauliflower Soup with Crispy Prosciutto and Parmesan

My mom used to make cauliflower soup when I was young. I didn't know what was in it, and I didn't care. I loved the velvety-smooth texture, the rich, buttery flavor and the sharp, peppery bite. I always meant to get the recipe from her (and I'm sure I did, but lost it before I ever made it).She gave me a soup cookbook for my last birthday. I made a chicken chili from it last fall and then kind of laid it aside. I picked it back up again the other day, looking for a new recipe to try. Aha - cauliflower soup! It's almost stupefyingly easy. The flavor mostly comes from onions, cauliflower and chicken stock. And maybe a little butter...The recipe calls for leeks, but I made it with yellow onions one time with great results. Also, 1/8 teaspoon of cayenne pepper is just a tease. I used 1 tablespoon. And, instead of crème fraîche, I used sour cream. Okay, and I used turkey bacon in place of the prosciutto (but didn't get a picture), and maybe I drizzled it with a little truffle oil and topped it with green onions at one point.This is a good one, kids. We made a batch, ate it ALL in 3 days, and promptly made another one.Cauliflower Soup with Crispy Prosciutto and Parmesan from Sunday Soup by Betty Rosbottom4 T unsalted butter3 cups chopped leeks, white and light green parts only (or onions)12 cups cauliflower florets (from 2-3 large heads)8 cups chicken stock1/8 t cayenne pepper1 cup grated Parmesan cheese, divided1/2 cup crème fraîcheKosher salt4 oz thinly sliced prosciutto (okay, I used turkey bacon)1 tablespoon olive oil1/2 cup chopped flat leaf parsley1. Melt the butter in a large, heavy deep-sided pot (with a lid) set over medium-high heat. Add the leeks and sauté, stirring, until softened, for 4 to 5 minutes. Add the cauliflower florets, chicken stock, and cayenne pepper. Bring to a simmer and cover pot. Cook until vegetables are very tender, about 20 minutes.2. Purée the soup in batches in a food processor, blender or food mill, and return soup to the pot. (Or use an immersion blender to purée the soup in the pot.) Whisk in 1/2 cup of the cheese and the crème fraîche. Taste soup and season with salt as needed. (The soup can be made 2 days ahead; cool, cover and refrigerate. Reheat over medium heat.)3. Cut the prosciutto into julienne strips 3 to 4 inches long and 1/4 inch wide. Heat the olive oil in a medium skillet set over medium heat. When hot, add the prosciutto and sauté, stirring constantly, until crisp and browned, for about 4 to 5 minutes. Using slotted spoon, transfer prosciutto to paper towels to drain.4. To serve, ladle soup into 6 soup bowls and sprinkle each serving with some prosciutto, chopped parsley, and remaining 1/2 cup Parmesan.

New Music : Magic Wands

A random pick from the inbox todaythat caught my attention, a band from Nashville called Magic Wands. I'll let them tell their story. Enjoy.Here's their info:Magic Wands are a Nashville based girl/guy duo fronted by singers/guitarists Chris and Dexy.The first time they met, the two only spoke briefly outside a show on in Hollywood in 2006 when Chris was visiting Los Angeles. They wouldn't talk again for over a year.In 2007 while living in Nashville, Chris found a song on Myspace that he listened to repeatedly, day and night. Soon he discovered it was a song by Dexy, called Teenage Love. He sent her a message, and soon the two began talking and exchanging mp3s of their music.Having recently both quit playing punk music, they both agreed they wanted to start something completely different. For fun they began recording songs together over the internet, the first being a song Chris wrote for Dexy called Kiss Me Dead.Most nights that summer they were on the phone until dawn, 2000 miles apart and talking about things like music, magic, love and dreams.They would also send packages to each other—gifts such as toy lions, old records, handwritten poems, candy, clothes, plastic rings and one glowing heart lamp.Quickly they decided they had to be together. So Chris came to L.A. to meet up with Dexy at an old bed and breakfast in the Hollywood Hills. They instantly hit it off— playing guitars, visiting old churches and wearing crowns they bought at a magic shop on Hollywood Blvd.After Chris left, they decided they were destined to be. Two weeks later he was back in L.A. helping Dexy pack up her old Mercedes Benz for a trip across the country.When they arrived in Nashville they began recording under the name Magic Wands, taken from one of Dexy's favorite things that Chris sent her—a magic wand.Currently Magic Wands are living together in Nashville and will release a ltd. EP in the Autumn.Magic Wands - Black MagicMagic Wands - Teenage Love [MYSPACE]

Business Card

On the advice of my wife's father, a successful agribusiness owner in the Central Valley who is loathe to buy anything he can't write off of his taxes as a business expense, Athanasia and I are trying to start a business. Doing what, you would be justified in asking. Owning and managing rental property. (We have scads experience managing, owning will be the new part.) It isn't glamorous. It isn't millionaire-making. What it is is something that will let us build equity (we hope) and cash-flow (we hope) with minimal work (we hope), this last is very important since we will need to keep our current jobs. It's all very exciting, but boy is there a lot of work involved in starting up. Aside from finding and buying the property there is licensing, insurance, business card design, inspections, vendor recruitment (stuff like plumbers and electicians to call in an emergency), record-keeping, bank accounts, etc. In trying to come up with a business card design I came across this fabulous business card of Kevin Mitnick's. Many years ago, before he was sent to prison, I wrote a paper about him for freshman English class. I don't remember anything I said in the paper (it was 20 years ago), but I remember being astounded by Kevin Mitnick's brilliance and thinking that if he had been given greater challenges and guidance he could have avoided his criminal behavior. But what was a teenage computer genius going to do in the 1980s? Go to work for TI, IBM, AT&T, or EDS? Not very likely. Now, companies exist that snap up that kind of raw young talent. Even the Army has a program for slovenly, pale, overweight, teenagers with unusual computer talent. But not then. Mitnick, the father of all hackers, is out of prison and is working as a computer security consultant. Now instead of trying to hack into the worlds most powerful computers, he is stopping the hackers (and spies) who would gain access to the private information of millions of people and companies. Given what he does and what he did, can you think of a better business card for him than this one that is printed on a set of lock picking tools?

Spanish discontent as soup kitchens spring up

Hundreds of thousands of Spaniards are facing ruin as bankruptcies and unemployment rise and the economy heads for meltdown
Graham Keeley in Madrid
May 11, 2009
Faced with losing his home if he cannot find €6,000 (£5,350) by the end of this week, Javier Martínez has resorted to desperate measures: the unemployed father-of-four is selling his own flat and throwing in another, free.
The three-bedroom apartment in Tarazona, near Zaragoza in eastern Spain, is on the market for only €57,000. The former construction project manager is including a one-bedroom flat that he had been letting in an attempt to entice a buyer.
“I need to find the cash by May 15 or I may be declared bankrupt. I must provide for my children,” Mr Martínez said. He is one of hundreds of thousands of Spaniards facing ruin as Spains economy heads for meltdown.
The number of Spaniards unable to pay their debts has risen by 26 per cent to 2.7million in 2009, compared with the first four months of last year. During the same period 232,000 companies joined the list of bad debtors, a 67 per cent rise, according to AsNef-Equifax, a Spanish credit agency.
Bankruptcies are up 44 per cent in the first quarter this year against the final quarter of 2008, with the worst-hit sectors being services and construction.
Unemployment is running at 17.4 per cent, the highest in Europe, with more than four million on the dole. The European Union predicts that this figure will rise to 20 per cent by next year. Some Spaniards have to accept soup-kitchen meals to feed their families.
Spain, after a decade of continuous growth, is now the sick man of Europe - and discontent is growing.
As 40,000 people took to the streets across the country for May Day demonstrations, Ignacio Fernández Toxo, leader of the CCOO union, threatened a general strike if the Government accepted demands from business to make it cheaper for companies to hire and fire workers.
Last week, unemployed protesters tried to storm the Madrid regional assembly, while jobless pickets closed a shipyard in the Basque Country in a protest at “cheap” Romanian and Portuguese workers - an echo of similar demonstrations in Britain against foreign workers in February.
Spains Socialist Government, aware that its popularity is falling before European parliamentary elections next month, argues that unemployment is reaching a plateau, pointing out that the number out of work in April rose by 39,478, the smallest increase in nine months.
José Luis Rodríguez Zapatero, the Spanish Prime Minister, has attempted to blunt the impact of the recession with a €33 billion stimulus. It is being spent partly on public works projects, to give temporary work to cut dole queues - but some dismiss these as “sticking plaster” jobs that do not address the problems at the heart of the Spanish economy.
Others defend them, saying that they keep many homeowners from defaulting on mortgages.
TimesOnlineUK

Vegetarians 'avoid more cancers'

Vegetarians are generally less likely than meat eaters to develop cancer but this does not apply to all forms of the disease, a major study has found.

Honda may develop plug-in hybrid cars as Obama alters US policy

bloomberg.com : Honda, which sells the FCX Clarity hydrogen car, may also develop plug-in electric models as US policy shifts to favor battery-powered autos. US President Barack Obama has announced no new federal effort to promote hydrogen. Honda still sees hydrogen as the best long-term alternative that can cut carbon exhaust tied to global warming, Honda President Takeo Fukui said. Still, the company will respond to a push by the Obama administration for carmakers to sell plug-in hybrids. "Oil prices are going to go up. When that time comes, fuel cells, solar panels, hydrogen, those will be the key words," Fukui said. "We will have packages that will be very competitive at that time." General Motors, Toyota and Nissan, and startups Tesla and Fisker are rushing out plug-in hybrid cars as the US moves to tighten fuel-economy and greenhouse gas rules. Honda has yet to announce plans to sell one, citing high costs for the lithium-ion batteries needed to power them and poor range. Honda last week began building a lithium-ion battery factory with joint-venture partner GS Yuasa to make packs for gasoline-electric hybrid cars. Honda plans to produce the vehicles in late 2010. - And I was wondering where was Honda's PHEV policy. Now with Honda officially in the plug-in hybrid game, being one of the last major car-makers to announce their PHEV plans, the race for market share is on. Now all we need to change the entire global vehicle fleet and transport infrastructure to run on electric power is around 30 years, $45 trillion, and a lot of luck. See also : 1. Peakoiler buys 2008 Honda Civic Hybrid FD3 2. 2010 Honda Insight specifications released : 41 mpg, 1.3L, 98hp, i-VTEC, CVT 3. Honda, GS Yuasa JV to make lithium-ion batteries for 2010/2011 Honda Civic Hybrid

The Many Seasons of West Lake

While I taught, Sue, Peter, Jack and Stefania rode to West Lake, today. The lotus plants were in full bloom and Sue took many shots of them for future painting inspiration! So much new growth on the lake! In the winter time, all of this is trimmed down to brown stalks that are below the water line. What a difference a few months makes!Near the lake is a small rock garden that they wandered through, off of Beishan Lu.Stefania, Jack and Peter, stopping for a rest. Tomorrow after Sue finishes class we get on the bus to Ningbo, about a 2 hour ride from here. We'll do a quick tour of the town and visit our friend "Anita" who works there now. Expect a couple of days until I get around to blogging again!Last but not least, here's a little video of Sophie doing a dance she learned at school:

Rich nutration

a taste of kent

The last weekend in September was a bright and sunny one here in Canterbury.It was perfect timing for Eurofest, a festival and market held right near our house, designed to celebrate regional foods from here in Kent, and farther afield in France and Italy.It was a great opportunity for Daiku and me to become more familiar with some of the goodies grown and made right in our backyard.Such as chutneys made from local fruits and spirits. Plum chutney with English rosé wine? Yum.Some fine Kentish beer made with some fine Kentish hops.this beautiful locally-grown russet apple. (a little taste of home and apple picking!)along with some other local produce: pears and bramley apples. from abroad, we had delicious and colorful produce from France, such as these blood-red tomatoes,these plums, fresh of the tree with their bloom as proof,artichokes the size of my head, bunches and bunches of lavender (I've loved learning the subtle scent differences between English and French lavender),possibly some of the best marinated olives and mushrooms I've ever tasted (including "pistou" olives marinated in basil and garlic- yum!a range of mustards that would make even the most hard-core mustard lover swoon, and nuts and dried fruit as far as the eye can see. It has been really fun getting to know our local landscape, and getting to try out all the wonderful produce that is grown here in Kent and all of the yummy foods prepared with it as well.

Babula Cooking

A few months ago, my friend Ruth (yes, the Ruth of rooibos chocolate cake and buamba fame), handed me a small, square, well-worn booklet, stored in a protective Ziploc bag. “The cookbook I was telling you about – the one compiled by missionaries where I grew up in central Zaire. I think you will like it.”Like it I do. The recipes in Babula Cooking III (named after the Tshiluba word for a small charcoal stove) come from the kitchens of about two dozen women, and bear cozy, homespun names such as “My Best Gingerbread,” “Crazy Cake”, “Company Pudding,” “2-Minute Mayonnaise,” “Eggplant Supreme,” and “Mother Merle’s Corn Soup.” But Babula Cooking is more than an Africanized Garden Club cookbook – it is also a survival guide for wives and mothers far from supermarkets and reliable refrigeration. It contains handy tips for improving the taste of powdered milk (add vanilla and a pinch of salt), keeping (or getting) bugs out of dry goods like flour, rice and beans, and preserving meat through canning and corning. And the recipes themselves speak to these women’s amazing flexibility to devise substitutions and re-create the smells and tastes of home.Lack ketchup? Try puréed tomatoes with sugar and vinegar. Don’t have garlic? “From the forest come leaves and bark with a very pungent odor quite like garlic. [The locals] mix crushed leaves or powdered bark with red pepper and salt.” Here, in the jungle of Zaire, missionary women prepare gravy with palm oil, employ dioshe, a common squash, in “pumpkin” bread, and use papayas to make jam “almost like peach jam.” Meri-meri (a local berry) are the sweetly tart secret in muffins, cobblers and jelly, while mangoes fill in for apples in cobbler, pie, sauce and butter. In a display of thrift, leftover oatmeal and rice get transformed into muffins, and eggplant is grated, browed and mixed with ground meat as a “meat stretcher.” “Philadelphia cream cheese” is concocted with drained yogurt.Babula Cooking is not all Mid-West-cum-central-Africa. The women also incorporate local recipes into their personal repertoires. Aurie Miller, one of the editors, provides this introduction to her recipe for bidia, a stiff porridge made from cornmeal and manioc (cassava) flour:“African women do not measure but know how many handfuls to put in from long practice. They laugh hilariously when they hear there is a recipe! It would be well for you to watch someone whose bidia you like to figure out your own proportions….” Marcia Murray adds that bidia can then be cubed and fried: “Eaten with salt and catsup,” she notes, “They are like hush puppies.”This, the third edition of Babula Cooking, was published in 1985. In the foreword, the editors write: “Our hope is that we become less dependent on the expensive imported foods and simplify our lives as we live among those who have so much less than we.” In the era of food miles and food riots, it is a message for us all.So, instead of having my mom send me a care package of graham crackers, I tried out Janette Fulton’s homemade version. I found it hard to roll the dough thin enough, so they didn’t have the right crunch, and the texture was a bit too crumbly…but the taste? Well, I’ll be darned if they didn’t taste like the real deal.Honey Graham CrackersFrom Babula Cooking IIIMakes 24 crackers2 cups / 240 grams flour½ cup / 60 grams whole wheat flour1/3 cup / 57 grams brown sugar½ cup / 113 grams shortening (I used butter)¼ cup / 60 milliliters honey¼ cup / 60 milliliters oil3 tablespoons / 45 milliliters cold water1 teaspoon / 5 milliliters salt1 teaspoon / 5 milliliters baking sodaPreheat oven to 425°F / 220°C. Stir all ingredients together until well-blended. Roll out on two lightly oiled cookie sheets. Score, prick, and bake for 8-10 minutes. Cut apart while hot. Cool and store in tin with tight top.

Le Cordon Bleu.

No your food here

Have u ever eatten these?

1923 famous wine?

Top Ten Tuesdays: How are we justifying our bonuses to taxpayers?

Special bonus edition!11) Achieved bonus goal of obtaining tax money to pay for bonuses.10) Giving needy citizens rides to the unemployment office in our new Porsche (pending available seating).9) Obtaining bids from multiple vendors before using bonus money to purchase hookers and blow.8) Managed annual salary so poorly, need a bonus to bail us out.7) Need additional funds to pay for our guillotine insurance.6) While it's right for the government to give businesses public funds, it will make Baby Jesus cry if it says how businesses should spend those funds.5) Promising to invest that bonus money in companies that will help the American economy and not those like A.I.G. 4) The same way we justified them to our shareholders...through equations that no one wants to admit they don't understand.3) Sitting back, lighting a cigar with a $100 bill, and letting the Times do our justifyin' for free.2) Hey, nobody took away George W. Bush's salary.1) "Justify"...sorry, we're not familiar with that word. We're MBAs, not English majors. Now who wants a little caviar with their fillet mignon?

Fried duck and potato

Franz Ferdinand, Live @ Ogden Theater, Denver, 4.22.09

Photos by Merry Swankster Last week Franz Ferdinand brought their brand of stylized rock to Denver for a show at Colfax's Ogden Theater. The stopover was part of the trek of reverse Coachella pilgrims swinging through Colorado from the California desert. The boys from Glasgow played from a setlist of music spanning all three albums and placed the heaviest emphasis on the bookends of their CV. All but four songs from their blockbuster self titled debut were played, half the songs from this year's Tonight: Franz Ferdinand and only four from 2006's You Could Have It So Much Better. Not sure what you can read from a single night's set, but that ratio seems pretty in line for constituting a successful night. The Scottish lads toyed with subtle stabs at new interpretations for some of their older, more established material. So subtle that I wondered if it was indistinct for most people in the audience. Results of the new arrangements, much like the bands albums, where a mixed bag. As much as I hate to knock a band when flirting with new ways of refreshing older tracks, for the sake of honest relaying, I can't deny my underwhelmed feelings. On "The Fallen"'s coal-tinted glasses view of dystopian messiahs the band took to an odd swinging cadence. Singer Alex Kapranos handled the lyrics with a corny and somewhat uninterested, almost ironic flow that sounded like bad retirement home entertainment - or a man bored with his own music. However, and this is a big however, even as I interpreted a possible new rendering of one of their most lyrically interesting songs as boredom, the showy part of this and other lackluster songs in the beginning of the set were mostly saved by the energetic pace of the men onstage (save for the banged up keyboardist anchored on a chair). The more straightforward takes worked better. On new songs like the upbeat "Bite Hard" it was the unmeddled approach that hit right on the money. Similarly, the band tore the place up on the relative oldie, "40'". Starting off with a breezy loungy vibe - think the hipper room with better music abutting the aforenamed old folks home - before turning down a glass road of face-melting, psychedelic jammyness. Which brings to mind Franz's other stimulating elements of the live show. In past reviews I've not hidden my sincere appreciation for actual perceptible imagery while enjoying a rock show. It's something that is almost always complementary and yet still surprises me how too often bands overlook the creative possibilities of dressing up a feast for eyes. I also understand how such offerings may not change fans' preferences either way, but I'm willing to bet my money that a full spectrum of galvanizing triggers beats a bare stage when compared in a vacuum. Franz Ferdinand has always been a band that comfortably combines arty sensibilities into what they are about. For this tour the entire rear of the stage holds a giant rectangular video screen made up of approximately 2' square cubes 14 across by 6 vertical. Its most memorable use came during the last song of the main set, the underrated "Outsiders". Real time projections of the band were shown filtered with neon edged, pencil sketch effects. Definitely interesting even amidst the familiarity of the production (to anyone who has ever played around with Photoshop filters anyway). As I've seen them do before for a grand culmination of the show, the entire band congregated over the drums to wail on the kit for a frenzied end. Much to the delight of the crowd, the hobbling rhythm guitarist/keyboardist tossed his crutches and somehow held his balance during the excitement. Encores then kicked off with the terrific pounding of "Ulysses", an invigorated "Darts of Pleasure", the superb post-punk revival/electro twofer that is "Lucid Dreams", and finally an explosive show closer - "Fire". A solid night for all involved, but only the first course for the lady and I. Set on making the most of a bounty of music traversing Colorado, we hightailed it out of the theater during the closing notes before heading for a 30 mile drive to Boulder for an altogether different experience. Next: The Kills sexy intensity is cut short, but even in compacted form leaves a lasting impression.

Pig ear

Drawing icecream

Why Do People Suicide?

It is sad you know, when you heard that people are willing to commit suicide.

What do you think the reasons that might encourage them to do so? Is it out

of desperation? or anything else? Please tell me your share of thoughts.

May is National Guide Dog Month

For regular readers, I did warn you that I would be blogging a lot about guide dogs, after all, May is National Guide Dog Month. Today seemed like a good day to write another post about this fundraising effort. Keep in mind that 100% of the money raised will go directly to accredited, non-profit guide dog schools across the country. My company has teamed up with American Idol judge Paula Abdul and Dick Van Patten to raise awareness and money to support guide dog schools. (In this photo above left are Dick Van Patten, Paula Abdul and Jimmy Van Patten, with two guide dogs). There are three easy ways you can help:1) Visit any Pet Co store and make a donation at the register in any amount.2) Make a donation online in any amount- it's easy enough to do right now in fact!3) Buy any specially marked bag of Natural Balance dog food with a sticker of Paula Abdul on it, and 50 cents for each bag sold goes to the guide dog schools.Check out this video of Paula Abdul and Dick Van Patten about this Guide Dog fundraiser:If you can't view the YouTube video above, try this blogger version below: Thanks for watching these videos. Please take a moment to check out this info and make a donation, even just $5 would help. -Rick Rockhill

My best love

Let's pray, shall we?

Financial times are pretty tough for many of us right now, and with that comes new problems and stresses. The recession has altered a whole lot of well laid plans for many of us, and it has been on my mind (and in my face) a lot as of late. It really makes me wonder- What do people without faith do these days? I mean, exactly how do they get through each day? I know,(all too well) that I wouldn't last a single minute without my faith. Here is one example: Each week since I started at the bank in December, a young Dad (early 30's I'd guess...I should pay better attention to his driver's license, I suppose) comes into the bank to cash his unemployment card. (Both he and his wife are out of work... Reno's unemployment rate is now above 11% and climbing.) He's a nice guy, and he always brings along his darling little three year old son. Two weeks ago when he came in, he was really down. It seemed that their washer had broken and the repair man gave them an estimate and then charged them for parts on top of that. He said his wife had had all she could take, and was having a melt down at home.He was at the end of his rope. I offered him some sympathetic looks and some encouraging words, but it seemed to not phase him. Finally I said, "Well, we all just have to hang in there and have faith. You've got to count your blessings.""Like what?!" he said, kind of angry like."Like that little guy there." I replied."Ya, well, we don't even know how we're going to feed him." he snarled back at me and turned abruptly and left. Well, I had to bite my tongue so hard I thought I would scream. Had he never heard the English proverb "there but for the grace of God go I"...? You see, I work with a guy who has a three year old son with leukemia. I wanted to say...no, I wanted to yell at this man, "Hey! How would you like to trade places with that dad? Huh?! You ungrateful man." Of course, I didn't. Instead, I prayed a long silent prayer for him. He can't help it. He doesn't have faith. He is completely alone in this scary, uncertain time we live. Last week, he came in again and I greeted him. "Hi there. Are things looking better this week?" I asked hopefully."No" he grumbled.Again, I prayed for him, and I continue to pray for him, his wife and darling little curly haired boy. One more story, and I will get off my soapbox...a few weeks ago, I was in WalMart (where else, besides TJ Maxx I mean...) and, maybe it was brought on by my own financially challenged situation, or menopause, or hormones, or the moon...but... I was in the midst of a fairly decent sized pity party for myself. (Life is too hard, I'm a good person, why me, my arms are flabby, I have no money, yada yada...) Cruising the aisles, looking at things I couldn't afford to buy, and bemoaning to myself how I was going to do 100 hours of work (painting furniture) in a week, while working 34 hours at a bank to make my squeaky tight ends meet and still get at least five hours of sleep each night, when I came whipping around a corner end cap..and almost ran head on into a sweet faced young boy, maybe ten years old, clinging to the handles of his grocery cart while his Mom was filling a prescription. He had skinny, shiny, metal prosthetic legs and appeared to be slightly mentally handicapped. He was smiling.I swear to you, it was total God thing, if you know what I mean. Seriously.(I still get goosebumps thinking about it and the sheer magnitude of the moment) It was God smackin' me down, telling me to knock it off and get over my bad self..right then and there. I felt ashamed. And humbled. This boy never has an "easy" day. Neither does his Mama. But yet, they move forward.With smiles on their faces.They have faith. I guess...what I am getting at with this rambling , picture-less post is...Yes, these are challenging times, people. But, those of us with a secure faith in God have the competitive edge, for sure. We have something bigger and better than houses and cars and money.So. I'm asking you today, if you are a person of faith, please, please pray. Pray hard. There are lots of folks out there that don't have the security blanket of faith, and I am fearful as to what may happen to them in these trying times.

Tomato

More than a few of my least favorite things

I was finally getting all settled in to my new apartment. Getting everything put away in it's right place. It's weird but being able to see the floor somehow lets me appreciate the simple quietness of the place. I hear birds singing every day here. Unfortunately, something else is happening almost every day: I see roaches. I have seen a roach almost every day this week in here. In the past 24 hrs, I've washed two down the sink, the most recent one less than an hour ago. I hope the hot water came on soon enough to scald it before it drowned. I hope at least it drowned and that I don't need to worry about it crawling back up the drain like vomit up an esophagus. I would rather have mice than roaches. I would even take rats. I think they are easier to get rid of and maybe my cat would keep them away. I would even take the bats that kept getting into my old apartment in Frederick. The rabies post-exposure series is not that bad. I've lived in 3 apartment complexes that had roaches before and I've already seen 2-3 times as many roaches here in less than a month than I saw in those places in the 6 months, 1 year, 2 years I lived there. This place has a major infestation. And I seriously doubt the exterminator coming on Tuesday will be any more effective than the ones in those other places. I know the routine, don't leave any food or water around. Put down boric acid in the cabinets and drawers. Except I have a cat who is free-fed so there is always food and water out. And then, what about the neighbors? What about this old ass building? I was a child who liked to play with bugs. I still pick up caterpillars to this day. But I've always loathed roaches like nothing else. I think it might be related to seeing Creepshow at a young age. Remember the last segment where the old man's apartment was overrun with roaches? I remember them crawling out of the cereal box and being afraid to eat cereals for months. I would embed a Youtube clip of that here but I can't stand to watch it myself. So the seed of revulsion was planted then and it was in full bloom by the time I was 11. That was when my mother and I stayed at some awful roach motel in Georgia. I remember throwing the bed covers back and seeing one in bed with me and screaming bloody murder. It was by my leg, if not on it. I have to think it must have been on me, because why else would I have woken up like that. There was another one in the bathroom when it was time for my shower in the morning. More screaming. Both times my mother came and dispatched them. Looking back, I'm surprised she didn't scold me for screaming like that and being such a big baby, but she is revolted by all bugs so it makes sense. Also, when she was a small child living in the famous shack in Mississippi her family lived in, they had rats. She said she used to wake up with a sore bloody nose a lot and she still believes the rats were chewing her face in her sleep.I still have the same reaction to them today. The first time I saw one here I screamed. Now I only scream when I am really surprised by one. I can muffle it a little but I still can't help making noises that would make the neighbors think something very bad is happening over here. I've happened to have company on a few occasions when a roach has popped its nasty god-awful head out. They were traumatized (and deafened) by the shrieks as much as I was by the pest.One of these occasions occurred when a boyfriend was over. He was a nuisance insect himself. I remember him commenting on how terrified I looked that night and asking was I all right, but he never moved his ass off that couch to check. Typical. At any rate, that clued him into how much I despised them. Not long after I broke up with him, I found a dying hissing cockroach in my bathroom. It was clinging to my flip flop and barely moving. I shook it off into the toilet and flushed it. I'd had the ex over to my apt post-break up a week or two before that so that was his opportunity to plant it. I'm just grateful that it was dying when I found it because if I had seen that thing moving through my apartment at full speed I would probably not be alive right now. It's getting near bed-time and I'm considering making a run to the 24 hr CVS because I am afraid roaches may have had a playground out of my toothbrush. I'll keep the new one in the fridge. Maybe the freezer. I hope I don't wake up screaming tonight when my cat is lying next to me in the bed and the tip of his tail brushes against my skin. And if something does brush against my skin, I hope it's actually my cat's tail and not some 6-legged montrosity. And I am burning EVERYTHING I own when I move out here.

Obama budget cuts funds for abstinence-only sex education

President Obama's new budget would eliminate most money for abstinence-only sex education and shift it to teen pregnancy prevention a U-turn in what has been more than a decade of sex education policy in the USA.The proposed budget, sent to Congress last Thursday, "reflects the research," says Melody Barnes, director of the team that coordinates White House domestic policy."In any area where Americans want to confront a problem, they want solutions they know will work, as opposed to programming they know hasn't proven to be successful. Given where we've been in recent years, I think this is a very important moment," she says.Abstinence-only sex education programs, which emphasize a no-sex-until-marriage message, received almost $1.3 billion in federal dollars from fiscal years 2001-2009, according to the Office of Management and Budget. At the same time, studies of abstinence-only programs have shown little success; the most often-cited study, released in 2007, was congressionally mandated and federally funded and found that abstinence-only programs don't prevent or delay teen sex. Valerie Huber of the National Abstinence Education Association says that 2007 study was "an early study about early programs. Things have changed." Two weeks ago, she says her organization briefed congressional aides about an analysis of studies that she says refutes arguments that abstinence education doesn't affect sexual behavior. Barnes says the budget leaves open a possibility that an abstinence-only program could be funded, if there is evidence of its effectiveness. Obama's budget proposes almost $178 million for teen pregnancy prevention, including $110 million for community-based programs. About 75% of that is for programs proven to have delayed sex and increased contraceptive use or reduced teen pregnancy. The other 25% could be for "innovative" programs. Obama "is open to innovation, and that could include abstinence-only if there is some indication it would work," Barnes says.Huber says her organization must work harder to convince Congress to continue funding abstinence education. "We're encouraging abstinence programs around the country to let Congress know what research they have and share what an abstinence program truly is," Huber says.

Ramen Noodles

Do you eat them? Have you even heard of them?
Ramen Noodles have never been a favorite of mine. I chalk it up to having had them too much when I was a kid. They're extremely cheap, even in today's economy you can get about a dozen packages of Ramen Noodles for only $2.
My family loves Ramen Noodles though. I always keep them in the house. My usband will make them for lunch for him and the kids. He has also begun bringing them to work for lunch.
I just bought myself some Shrimp flavored Ramen Noodles, hoping a change in flavoring would get me to like them a little more. I thought I'd like them because I like the Shrimp flavored Instant Lunch, which is basically Ramen Noodles with some veggies and small bits of meat.

Big Day Out

Its Felix & Oscar's first big day out. I am popping them back into the hutch each night, as we have a new cat roaming the area in the evening.Its so cute seeing a duckling and a chicken following Bonnie around the yard.Bonnie has taken in Banjo's only off spring and is doing a mighty job raising her along with her sister.I called them Felix & Oscar from the show "The Odd Couple" as these two little balls of fluff look so odd running together.Last night when I popped them into bed, Felix (duckling) was on the big duck side of the run. Some how she squeezed through the wire fence and I took me 4 laps around the area to scoop her up and pop her into bed with mum & Oscar.Such a joy having little babies in the backyard. Notice I am being positive about them being little girls?Until next time....hoo roo technorati tags: bantams, chickens, chooks, ducklings, ducks

Big Day Out

Its Felix & Oscar's first big day out. I am popping them back into the hutch each night, as we have a new cat roaming the area in the evening.Its so cute seeing a duckling and a chicken following Bonnie around the yard.Bonnie has taken in Banjo's only off spring and is doing a mighty job raising her along with her sister.I called them Felix & Oscar from the show "The Odd Couple" as these two little balls of fluff look so odd running together.Last night when I popped them into bed, Felix (duckling) was on the big duck side of the run. Some how she squeezed through the wire fence and I took me 4 laps around the area to scoop her up and pop her into bed with mum & Oscar.Such a joy having little babies in the backyard. Notice I am being positive about them being little girls?Until next time....hoo roo technorati tags: bantams, chickens, chooks, ducklings, ducks

New pup in the White House and no one consulted ME, dammit!

The cat is out of the bag, so to speak: a returned-to-breeder Portuguese Water Dog will be the nation's new First Pup.And not to go off on a tangent or anything, but I'm totally gobsmacked the Obamas chose a dog without consulting me. The nerve! The [how should I put it?] — the audacity!After all, I love dogs more than practically anyone. I love dogs so much, in fact, that I am ideally qualified to determine not only who should be allowed to keep a dog, but what type of dog she should be allowed to keep. [I know what you're thinking: "Sounds like she'd also be a good one to decide who should be allowed to have children!" Obviously.]In my world In a perfect world, no one, but no one would have the "right" to choose the size or age or coat-length or temperament of the dog she adopts.People, when you choose a friendly dog, a shy dog dies! When you choose a small dog, a big dog dies! I trust that I am making myself clear. You'll take the dog I choose for you, thank you very much.Also: a potential adopter should work at home, and should have six months' salary in an emergency savings account, a well-maintained house with a fenced yard, no children under twelve years of age and a body mass index no greater than 24.8. Needless to say, I am exempt from these standards since I care about dogs so much more than you do.If the Obamas really loved dogs, they would have followed the example of humane movement leaders like Wayne Pacelle and John Goodman and Ingrid Newkirk. That's right: Wayne and John and Ingrid have stepped up to the plate and adopted pit bulls from their local shelters! Gamebred pit bulls... geriatric pit bulls with bad knees... big, untrained, energetic young pit bulls, and... what? Say again?They haven't? You're kidding me.But... all those other people jumping on the Prez for not getting a rescue dog — those people have shelter pit bulls, right? After all, pit bulls are totally over-represented in shelters — they're the dogs most likely to get killed! That's why Wayne and John and Ingrid promote pit bull adoption every chance they get, right?Say what...?They don't?But that would mean they're just... sanctimonious hypocrites! Insufferably sanctimonious hypocrites. Say not so! OMG, my faith in the integrity of humane-movement talking heads has been shattered. Please excuse me while I take my pound pit bull and my pound pit mix and my pound border collie for a walk to mull all of this over.Seriously, I'm delighted for the Prez and his family. They have years ahead of them to adopt strays, pound pups and lost kittens, if they choose.And I invite anyone who feels the need to whine, "But... but... but... it isn't from a shelter" to visit her local pound and adopt a pit bull, because it's a pretty sure bet not one of the critics has a rescue pit bull or two or three already.[L.A. Times photo by Mark Boster of a pit bull at the Los Angeles County animal shelter in Carson, CA.]Related:Two from Terrierman —Barack Obama, Ordinary ConsumerObama Is on the Edge of a Canine MistakeObama dog puppy to arrive Tuesday–TMZ is my source! [Retrieverman]OBAMA GETS DOG FROM PUPPY MILL! [LA Animal Watch (with interesting comments/discussion)]Memo to the Obamas: All You Need To Know About Portuguese Water Dogs! [The sort of boundless inanity you'd expect from "People Pets."]

Summer fruit, litchi

litchi,also called" empress smile" (妃子笑)in China.

Eating peach, I can't help thinking "beauty monkey king(美猴王)"

Collect litchi core,mill the peach core to be in flower basket shape,is my summer hobby!~

Coffee cup building

Frito-Lay pitches its Lay's potato chips as locally made

Here's proof-positive that more shoppers must seriously want to know where their food comes from: Frito-Lay, the world's biggest snack-food maker, is getting into the locally-made act. On Tuesday, Frito-Lay (PEP) will unveil an unlikely marketing strategy for its Lay's brand chips that focuses on the 80 "local" farmers from 27 states who grow the potatoes used to make its chips. In a new world of better-for-you food concerns, it's not about chips being fun to eat. It's about chips being local.And trackable. A tech toy at Lays.com dubbed Chip Tracker will let folks see where any bag of chips was made. Type in the first three digits of the product code on the bag and your ZIP code and out pops the location of the plant."Knowing where food is made and grown is important to consumers," says Dave Skena, vice president of potato chip marketing at Frito-Lay. "Sharing with consumers how regional we are is relevant and compelling."TV spots will be focused to make that point. Michigan farmer Brian Walther appears with his brother, Gary, in a spot to air in that state and tells viewers: "Next time you grab a bag of Lay's in Michigan, think of us." "Lay's Local" will be the brand's biggest 2009 campaign, Skena says. It also features 40,000 in-store displays customized for each state. Ads and regional store displays use such phrases as, "locally made in Texas." With good reason. A national survey of restaurant chefs by the National Restaurant Association found "locally grown" food to be the hottest industry trend for 2009. Frito-Lay does not claim its products are "locally grown," a popular and hotly debated industry term without a clear definition.Some say Frito-Lay is trying to fool folks. "They're trying to confuse consumers with something consumers already are confused about," says Dawn Brighid, marketing manager at Sustainable Table, a group in support of "green" eating. "Most of their products are obviously grown on industrial farms."Frito-Lay's new positioning for Lay's is not authentic, says Kate Newlin, consultant and author of Passion Brands. "They're trying to take a big, huge brand and make it look tiny. It's a shell game."But, to Frito-Lay's credit, says ad consultant Allison Cohen at PeopleTalk, the campaign reminds folks that Frito-Lay is an American brand that supports American farmers in tough times.Says Skena, "Our intention is solely on celebrating the contributions people and communities across the country have made to the Lay's brand."

Monday's Freebies and Weekend Happenings

Fresh asparagus from the garden!! With the rain last week and the warm weather this weekend, you could practically watch the asparagus grow tall enough to pick this weekend. Looks like it will be a good crop this year!!While we were out and about this weekend, we found 2 more pennies for the found money jar. That brings us to a total of .91 cents!Coupons - free dog foodHair Care Aveeno® Hair Care Products free sampleStonyfield Yogurt - Organic Gardening - free organic gardening magazinemighty. small. - free sample of OB tamponsGorgeously Green - Special Offer from Mattel® free flower seeds for the first 1,000TENA Free Sample - free sample for menIt was so warm here this past weekend that the kids got to enjoy the pool at the local minor league baseball park. That is a rare happening in our area in April!Sunday evening, we stopped at a local ice cream hotspot and ate ice cream next to Michael Constantine. He starred in "Room 222" and was in movies like "My Big Fat Greek Wedding".

Fish ice

5.5

Eat this on May,5th

and eggs and bean cakes

Farmers market,or super market?

Today I went to farmers market.Inorder to make Integer,the seller added one more,with which one I wasn't pleased,so I choose another one by myself;at this just time, she changed my commodity without my notice.Because I found that the number changed,I WAS SURE she did it.

I tell the truth,she shouted at me:"four eyes dog"

SHIT,I only responsed:"Tricks"

Modern business

2.9 yuan a packet, 126g,
8 secret-made plums, 3-layer paper

longnose catfish

better with preserved red pepper

sweet and little chilly

Thick soup!

Breakfast

For weekend

Pepquino melon

Pepquino melon, watermelon is a smaller than 20 times the ordinary small melon, 3 centimeters in length and weighing about 5 grams.

Clear Skies 2 now ready to dock on your computer

For those of us EVE Online players - or just fans of great machinima - who have been patiently waiting for Clear Skies 2, the wait is over! Ian Chisholm and his crew have managed to crank out Clear Skies 2 in amazing time, offering up yet another exciting adventure in the dangerous space of New Eden. As with everything awesome that we want omg right now - the load on EVE Files is insanely high right now. May want to consider using the torrent for the moment, if you can. In the meantime, while you're waiting for the download, may we suggest you check out the trailer for Clear Skies 2, or perhaps our exclusive interview and behind-the-scenes look at the making with the creator! If it's still going after you've checked all that out, there's always the bloopers from the first Clear Skies, which are made of extra-special awesome. [Thanks, CrazyKinux!]

What's for Breakfast??

I usually have a cup of milk or two with a piece of wheat toast. Then I have an English muffin sandwich from smart ones. It consists of two egg whites thin piece of Canadian bacon and fat free cheese it is really good.It is not like Macs English muffins but I don’t want that fattening thing lol. It may taste good but its not good for you. So what do you usually eat for breakfast?

Work in Progress

I'm working on a novel that's approximately one third finished. I will now post the first chapter. If you enjoy the tease, feel free to say something encouraging for me to read while I finish it. The current expectation is that this tale will be available at least as an ebook when it's complete. Wishbone is the erotic fantasy tale of a young gay prostitute from a cold rainy port town who meets a customer who is not human. He begins searching for the acceptance and love that he never received from his own race. The opening chapter is 3.7k words long and not safe for work. Wishbone Chapter 1. For Sale by Lauren P. Burka Wishbone's accustomed alley smelled like fish, but to be fair, so did most of his customers. The only light spilled from the Royal around the corner, where the beer was cheap yet so foul that Wishbone couldn't bring himself to drink it. The alley, off of a street that passed between the docks and the warehouses, was not well-traveled during the evenings. Wishbone could rely upon two or three other boys who worked within in shouting distance to come running if a customer gave him trouble. Lane kicked like a cart horse, and Kestrel (who only passed as a boy only if he wore makeup on his wrinkles and kept to the shadows) could use the knife he carried. The crowd that spilled from the Royal's narrow front door swirled as a covered coach and pair nudged around the corner. There were no arms painted on the coach's sides, but graceful construction and beautiful matched pair of bays spoke of money. The Royal's clientele moved towards the little coach. Then, realizing that the glass-shielded coach lamps did them no favors, they scrambled back from the illumination. The gleaming horses' hooves slipped and sparked on the cobbles, but neither the coach nor the man driving it seemed lost on the narrow street. The gray-cloaked coachman snaked the driving whip gently over one mahogany flank, indicating, perhaps, what he might do to any who impeded their progress. The lamps were bright enough to lay bare Wishbone's territory all the way to the end, and he was not pleased with the exposure. The coach halted opposite the barrel Wishbone used for a seat. The bays pricked their ears and glanced about in disapproval. The door opened, and out stepped a swirl of black: a cloak like folded wings, a hat, gloves, boots, and layers of fine cloth that reflected or absorbed the faint light, whispering of money. He was tall. That much could be seen through his enveloping clothes. He moved with easy balance over the slick cobblestone way. The cold made his breath into a jet of vapor. His hair was thick, curled, and dark with tiny gleaming flecks of gray. What could be seen of his complexion was darker than usual, like a heavily-tanned sailor's. His eyes were colored like violets and the pupils slit up and down. Wishbone shivered. Did the gloves conceal fingers with extra joints, as rumor said? A fragrance emanated from Wishbone's guest. musky and spicy, as if a predator beast had slept in a bed of rare herbs, the musk was detectable even over the foul air of the alley. Unlike every other customer who had come to Wishbone, this one appeared neither ashamed nor furtive. "You're a shih-aan," said Wishbone. "And you are a human," said the shih-aan. He smiled, revealing the point of a fang. "I offer you my hospitality tonight." Going home with a client could earn Wishbone more coin and a nicer place to sleep. But whores who left the relative safety of the docks for the wealthier parts of town did not always return. And what could his friends do then, tell the city guard? And he'd heard stories about what shih-aan did to humans. Plenty of men would swear they knew of someone who'd been gutted and cut into steaks by one of the demon creatures. If you pressed them about it, though, it always happened back during the war, and there were soldiers who had collections of shih-aan ears taken on the battlefields of Feras-aan. Since the treaty a few shih-aan had always lived in Bronlyn Harbor, trading in fine cloth, building ships and not, generally, eating anyone. Still, there were stories. Wishbone knew he should decline. On the other hand, storms had kept the fishing boats to harbor for the past three days, and the sailors and fishermen were saving their coins for hot stew and beer. Wishbone's purse was flat. What the inhuman customer might do to him was theoretical, whereas his fate at the hands of the dock patrol if he didn't have bribe money tomorrow was certain. Gloved in black velvet, the shih-aan's fingers touched Wishbone's cheek. He swallowed. "What is your name?" asked the shih-aan. "Wishbone." "You may call me Sir," he said, smiled, and named a price so high that bargaining was unthinkable. For so much coin, the shih-aan could call himself King Rendel the Third if he wanted. Mesmerized, Wishbone followed him out of the alley. The cloaked driver held the coach door for him as if he were someone important. Sir followed him inside and latched the door with those impossibly graceful hands. As the carriage negotiated the narrow streets between the dock and the Hill, Wishbone tried to relax into the seat and act like he did this sort of thing every day. Sir clasped long-fingered hands upon one knee and appeared to doze. Wishbone tried not to stare, but kept glancing under his lashes at the demon who had bought him for the evening, looking for signs he had made a irretrievable mistake. The carriage door opened in the secluded courtyard of a detached, two-story house with a garden gone dead for the season. Lamplight brightened windows on both floors. Stone gargoyles lurked amongst the cornices, casting disturbing shadows into the trees. "Inside," said the shih-aan. They entered though the front door. A servant bowed and took the shih-aan's cloak and hat. Young and male, he had mahogany skin and black hair, exactly the same color as the bay horses. His ears were slightly pointed. He was strikingly handsome, and Wishbone wondered why, with such a dish at home, the shih-aan fished for meals down by the docks. "Good hunting, tonight, Sir?" asked the servant in passable Bronlyn tongue. Sir lifted the servant's chin with one finger and kissed him shamelessly on the mouth. The ardor and the fearlessness of that kiss went straight to Wishbone's loins. The two spoke for a moment in a tongue made all of sibilants and liquid trills. The shih-aan patted Wishbone on the shoulder. "Follow Terefar. He will guide you to a bath." Sir turned his back and mounted the stairs, disappearing upward past a painted landscape and a gilt-framed mirror. Wishbone glared at Terefar, daring him to say a word about how he smelled, and stifled a tiny prick of jealousy inappropriate in a whore. The servant dropped his eyes, took up a candle from a claw-footed table, and opened a door. Wishbone hurried after him towards the back of the house. The bath room had a tiled floor and a half-filled sunken tub. A stove against the back wall held three steaming kettles. Terefar lit a lamp that hung from a wall bracket and emptied the kettles one at a time into the bath. "Please," he said, and pointed to a tray of soaps and oils, a robe hanging on a hook, slippers, and a pile of towels on a little table. "Leave your clothes here. They will be returned." He spoke hesitantly, as if he had to think before pronouncing each word. Wishbone waited until Terefar had closed the door before he stripped down and dipped a toe into the bath. The water was pleasantly warm. He slid in and grabbed for a bar of soap that smelled of lavender. The soap foamed between his hands, and Wishbone slid it all over his body as the luxurious water soothed away the late autumn chill. He unbraided his hair and opened a tiny bottle of expensive-smelling oil. Ducking his head under the water, he scrubbed his scalp with the oil. Dirt and dead hair floated on the water's surface. By then the bath was beginning to cool. He climbed out and picked up one of the towels. He dried himself completely, then wrapped the plush robe around his body and stuck his feet in the slippers. There was a wooden comb, a razor, and a tooth stick on the table beneath a mirror. He worked the comb through his pale hair until he'd got most of the tangles out, then set it back in a braid. His thin beard hadn't re-emerged since the last shave two days ago at the public baths, so he ignored the razor. Wishbone looked at himself in the tall mirror. The public baths had mirrors too, but usually he was in too much of a hurry to take in the details of his person. His face was thin, as was the body hidden in the oversized robe, and an old scar made his upper lip look crooked. His eyes were a pale blue, not exotic and green like Lane's. With his hair tied back, his ears stuck out. He undid the braid, toweled his hair dry, and used the comb to straighten the part. Finally, he made use of the tooth stick, which tasted of cloves. Opening the door, Wishbone found Terefar waiting with his candle. "Follow, please," said the servant. He turned without waiting, and Wishbone hurried after him, down the hall, and into the kitchen. An enormous iron stove radiated heat, warming the air and the stone floor. Copper pots hung in ordered rows from hooks on the walls. Rows of little bottles with unreadable labels filled the shelves. A bent old woman with skin and ears like other servant's was placing a plate and goblet on the table. But for her exotic looks, this could have been any well-appointed kitchen. The plate held slices of beef cut thin and laid out like a fan around a small mound of mashed parsnips. The food was hot, though the meat was pink and bloody on the inside. It tasted pleasantly of pepper. He ate every scrap before taking up the goblet. The wine was cool, honey-colored and sweet, as unlike the sour beer he drank at the dockside taverns as the sea was unlike well water. Wishbone swallowed it down and felt the warmth penetrate his insides. "You are finished?" asked Sir's pretty servant, who had stood behind his chair the whole time. "Then come with me." They passed up a narrow back stair to a carpeted hallway. The walls were covered with heavy tapestries woven with pictures of human lords and ladies at the hunt, in their gardens, dancing. Terefar knocked on one of the doors, waited for an answer, then opened it and ushered Wishbone inside. Wishbone expected a bedroom. Instead, this looked like a drawing room. Sir lay back on a brocade-covered lounge chair, reading a book. Freed from the hat, his curled hair spilled down past his shoulders in a thick fall of darkness. The small amount of skin that showed glowed a burnished tan in the light of the roaring fire. The door closed behind Wishbone with a click that made him jump. Sir smiled, this time showing both canines, so long and sharp that Wishbone wondered how he shut his mouth without puncturing his lips. Wishbone noticed the coils of rope on the floor next to Sir's chair. They worried him. "Your name is not a common one amongst your people," said Sir, marking the book and placing it on an end table. "Tell me how you acquired it." Wishbone tugged the robe more tightly around his body and looked away from Sir's inhuman face. "There's a child's game. The breast bone of a goose or a turkey is shaped like a bow. One child grasps each end, and they make wishes. Secret wishes. Then they pull on the bone until it breaks. The child with the biggest piece gets their wish. There's a trick to it. If you let the other child pull while you hold your end steady, you almost always get the bigger piece. I used to win all the time and my little sister would cry and tell my father I'd cheated. He patted me on the head and called me his Wishbone." Sorrow like a physical blow to Wishbone's breast came with the memories of his father calling him something else when he stumbled on Wishbone and Athel the smith's son behind the barn. He mastered himself, but it appeared that the shih-aan's predator eyes missed nothing. "What did you wish for?" asked the shih-aan. Wishbone shook his head. "It might still come true." The shih-aan tugged his gloves free and fanned his fingers so that Wishbone could see the extra joints. "Perhaps even tonight. Remove the robe." Wishbone untied the belt and let the robe drop to the floor. It felt decadent to be naked. Even in warm weather his alleyway business was transacted half-clothed. Only a rich man could afford a fire like this in his private parlor. "Turn around." Wishbone wondered if the shih-aan liked what he saw. How did a skinny dock whore measure up to the well-groomed, exotic creature he had met downstairs? "Spread your legs. Bend over and part your buttocks with your hands." Shivering, Wishbone complied. This wasn't what he'd expected at all, and he kept the agreed sum to mind as he displayed himself in this ridiculous manner. The fire-lit air stroked his arse-hole, still damp from the bath. "Your obedience pleases me," said Sir. "You may approach." What a pompous ass, thought Wishbone. But his intended retort died as he turned around and saw that pointed smile again. He was exactly where no whore wanted to be--in a private home on the Hill, naked, with a pile of rope and a client toothed like a bay shark. The shih-aan placed a pillow on the floor next to the lounge chair and directed Wishbone to kneel upon it. Sir clasped his warm hands at the small of Wishbone's back, holding him still while he leaned over to press his lips against Wishbone's throat. A line of kisses burned across Wishbone's collar and up the left side of his neck. He squirmed, then sank his face in the shih-aan's dense hair as the tongue-tip probed his ear, painting it in little spirals until the pointed tongue reached the center. The touch brought to mind other, more intense penetrations, but offered no hope of release. Wishbone moaned in pleasure and confusion, drowning in the velvet-clad limbs and rich scent of the shih-aan's body. Teeth caught his ear lobe and bit down. Startled, he tried to pull backwards. The arms tightened. The shih-aan was at least as strong as any human who had ever before embraced Wishbone. "I will not injure you," Sir whispered into his ear. "But you are wisest not to struggle." The shih-aan brushed his lips against Wishbone's. There was no hint of stubble, and Sir's face was as smooth as a young girl's. He ran his tongue under Wishbone's upper lip and held it in his teeth. Fear and arousal mixed deep in Wishbone's belly, each enhancing the other. Wishbone found himself drenched with curiosity over what Sir hid beneath his clothes. Would there be extra nipples, as the rumors said? Did Sir have pubic hair like a man's? Fur on his body? Was his cock long, or thick, or both? Where would he want to put it? Wishbone's own cock stirred as the shih-aan's clever fingers stroked his body and his imagination. Sir's tongue slid deeper into Wishbone's mouth, while those fingers pinched his nipples. Wishbone felt himself sag helplessly in the shih-aan's arms. He leaned his forehead against Sir's knees while the long, long fingers combed through his hair. Taking both of Wishbone's hands in one of his, Sir pulled him up and over his lap so that his arms dangled on one side of the lounge chair and his legs on the other. Wishbone felt the fingers covering every inch of his skin from nape to buttocks, pausing to trace the pale lines of ribs, the knobs of spine. His cock, pressed down against the side of the chair, went as stiff as a mast. This was nothing like the brutish couplings of his trade. As much as he loved being filled hard and fast by another man's cock, there was a potent sweetness to the shih-aan's demon hands. The fire warmed his rear while his face remained exposed to the room's cool drafts. If it weren't for the growing pressure in his loins, he would gladly have enjoyed being stroked this way until dawn. One long finger came to rest at the very base of his spine. Wishbone squirmed, but a fist tangled in his hair, holding him fast. The finger stroked his cleft until he bit his lip to keep from whimpering. The hands retreated suddenly, and Wishbone heard the sound of a jar opening. When the finger returned, it spread something cold and silky into the cleft. The finger made lazy circles, pausing occasionally to penetrate the opening by no more than a single joint. Wishbone must have made a sound because the shih-aan laughed. "What a greedy little arse you have," he said. "Yes, Sir," mumbled Wishbone into the side of the lounge chair. The shih-aan slid out from under Wishbone and turned him onto his back. While he was too stunned by pleasure to think of protesting, the shih-aan bound his right wrist to his right ankle and his left wrist to his left ankle so that his knees were folded up and his legs spread wide. His buttocks rested at the edge of the lounge chair. Sir rolled up one sleeve, dipped his fingers into the jar, and reached down between Wishbone's parted legs. A log in the fire popped, and his eyes glowed red. This time the slight penetration by a single finger made Wishbone cry out. It was delicious, but it wasn't enough, not even when a second finger joined the first, and then a third. He kept his eyes on the shih-aan's and tried to beg for more that way. Sir's fingers pressed against Wishbone's insides in a way that a cock never had. There had to be more, and if Wishbone didn't get it, he thought he would die of disappointment. And more he got, though not as he expected. Sir opened him wider with one powerful hand. His arm muscles bulged in his dark velvet clothes. The supple, greased fingers stirred Wishbone until he couldn't help but lift his hips and force himself down onto them. His insides rippled, and Sir twisted, and then, much to Wishbone's surprise, the entire hand slid inside. Wishbone panted. Sweat streamed down his armpits. His defeated ring kissed the shih-aan's wrist. Wishbone had never felt so completely filled, or so helpless. Their eyes were locked together, and Wishbone felt as if that gaze was also a penetration. The fingers curled into a fist that rocked inside him, forcing clear fluid from his stone-hard cock and wordless cries from his mouth. Sir smiled down at Wishbone, lips parted as if to drink in his cries, eyes slightly unfocused with concentration. His canines gleamed. Without breaking the rhythm of their coupling, the shih-aan eased himself down on one knee and bent his head forward so that his long curls spilled over Wishbone's loins. Hidden behind the curtain of hair, his breath caressed Wishbone's tight, furry scrotum and the length of his cock. The tip of a pointed tongue traced the head. Wishbone felt lost. He'd been more in control bent over a barrel than trapped by a hand that filled him and a tight set of lips that threatened to empty him. Then Wishbone felt the fangs against his shaft, and fear blossomed in his heart. He panicked. His body tensed as his legs kicked against the ties. He tried to pull himself backward away from the penetrating hand, but the knuckles jammed against his wide-stretched ring. He groaned, this time in pain. Tears leaked from the corners of his eyes. Sir released his cock with a flourish of tongue. "I warned you not to struggle," he said from behind his hair. "I gave you my word that I would not hurt you. Do not anger me by causing me to break it." Wishbone inhaled, feeling the tears spill down as his lower body unclenched by tiny degrees. It was not the threat that made him do it, but the steel in the voice. Sir spoke as if it were impossible that he could be disobeyed, thus Wishbone gave him obedience. The merciless hand slid deeper in, forcing Wishbone open as if it could split him in two, and the fingers with their extra joints did things to him that no human could achieve. Lips brushed Wishbone's cock which had grown, if anything, even harder. Sir's other hand worked on a nipple that tightened between the tips of his fingers. Wishbone felt the tight sheath of Sir's throat take him in while the tongue probed the root of his cock. The whole time the fist that impaled him continued the motion like a boat riding low waves before a storm, pressing each time against the secret places inside Wishbone's body. The room filled with Wishbone's rising cries and the wet sounds of sucking. When the storm broke, Wishbone screamed fit to bring the dock patrol down upon their heads, if they hadn't been locked in a house on the Hill, in a room with no witness but the fire. His nether muscles fought to expel the hand that only pressed more deeply and wrung more desperate spasms from his cock, spilling the sea into the shih-aan's mouth. When Wishbone's throat had gone all hoarse from crying out, when his cock had emptied and his muscles had turned to jelly, Sir slid his hand free and untied the binding on Wishbone's legs. He opened a dresser drawer and bought out a towel that he used to wipe down his hand and Wishbone's arse. He took a soft woolen blanket from the same dresser and laid it over Wishbone's body, then placed another log on the fire. Wishbone was asleep before Sir left the room, and only woke at dawn when Terefar brought him his clothes and a small leather purse stuffed with coin.Originally published at Lauren's Tales.