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Author: Rachel Nicole; Weber, Rachel Weber
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Company: Westview Pr, Boulder, Colorado, U.S.A.  (2001)
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Recipes donated by Boulder, Colorado chefs compiled for the charitable cause of "Boulder's Taste of the Nation." 19 chefs/restaurants represented, the recipes are special & elegant.

Paperback:  105 pages
Company: C&M Press  (1995)
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Author: Unknown
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Company: Share Our Strenghts  (1995)
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Volunteer based not-for-profit based in Boulder, Colorado, USA. Includes fee comparison, location map, and history. (more...)

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Distributes food to those in need in Boulder and Broomfield Counties. Online donation form, details on food acquisition and distribution, and hunger statistics. Part of the America ... (more...)

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New Address: Share-A-Gift PO Box 17595 Boulder, CO 80308 USA English Tel: +1|303|494|4258| info@shareagift.org Español Tel: +1|303|666|0638| (more...)

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MyTown is a community Web site or virtual town square. Users create their own Web spaces built around a profile of themselves, set up groups around their interests, join other?s ... (more...)

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DailyCamera.com the online newspaper for the Camera in Boulder, Colorado. Featuring Local news, sports, lifestyles, entertainment, business, opinion, mytown,mytowncolorado, real ... (more...)

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Places to go to access food. ... Boulder Shelter for the Homeless 303-442-4646 4869 North Broadway, Boulder, CO 80304 (more...)

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City of Boulder, Colorado official Web site ... Share the road. Don't be a "Road Hog." GO Boulder/city of Boulder is partnering with the Colorado Department of Transportation (CDOT ... (more...)

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Looking for a nanny share - (Boulder) Part-time babysitter/nanny available...looking for a great family! - (Boulder) Experienced nanny avaiable weekday mornings!!!! - (Boulder) (more...)

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Naturally Boulder is a task force of the Boulder Colorado Economic Vitality Advisory Board, designed to create a thriving natural products business community. (more...)

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... happening in Boulder? Boulder Places - Entrepreneur-friendly places to work and meet in Boulder Boulder Files - Files the Boulder TechBootstrap community wish to share Boulder ... (more...)

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I have a small amount of items that I would like to move from CO (Boulder area) to DC (or VA, I am unsure of the exact location at this point.) All of my things currently fit into a 5 x 4 storage unit, and would fit into half of a small U-Haul. I also have a car but it is a Camry and cannot have a hitch attached, so the options for the type of U-Haul we would be sharing depend on the type of car you have (or if you have a car.) We would have to figure out options for hauling, driving, or towing. I am looking to move my things the end of Jan or very early February. Please email me at Jessica.Schutz@Gmail.com if you want to talk more directly and work something out. Lets talk! I'm fairly flexible and want to make this work for you! Jessica (more...)

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6: Which of the following efforts was NOT made by President Hoover to end the Depression? Building the Boulder Dam Government providing direct relief Trickle-down approach Do-nothing approach 7: Which of the following was NOT one of the three main goals of the New Deal? Rebuild the nation Reform the financial system Relief for the needy Recovery for the economy 8: Which program was created to secure individuals? bank deposits? FDIC Bank Holiday Emergency Banking Relief Act Federal Securities Act 9: What were the three aspects to the New Deal? relief, recovery, distance help, distance, aide help, reform, aide relief, recovery, reform 10: Which was NOT a cause for developing a second New Deal? Unemployment remained high There was still national suffering There was no improvement in the economy Eleanor Roosevelt visited citizens and reported her findings 11: What does Black Tuesday refer to? Oct 29, 1929, a record 16.4 million shares were given away. Oct 29, 1929, a record 16.4 million shares were sold. Dec 12, 1929, the stock market crashed Dec 12, 1929, a new record of shares were sold 12: Who was the first woman to join the Cabinet as the Secretary of Labor? Frances Perkins Mary McLeod Bethune Mary Dewson There were no women in the Cabinet 13: Which was NOT a reform enacted through FDR?s Second New Deal? Works Progress Administration Wagner Act Social Security Act Hawley-Smoot Tariff 14: What finally brought America out of the Great Depression? Works Progress Administration Regulating big business Preparation for World War II America came out on its own (more...)

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5: In 1928, Herbert Hoover won an easy victory over his Democratic opponent. What was the basic reason for this victory? He was a democrat He promised to lower taxes He had huge support from his hometown The prosperity enjoyed by the people under the Republican administrations of Calvin Coolidge 6: Which of the following efforts was NOT made by President Hoover to end the Depression? Building the Boulder Dam Government providing direct relief Trickle-down approach Do-nothing approach 7: Which of the following was NOT one of the three main goals of the New Deal? Rebuild the nation Reform the financial system Relief for the needy Recovery for the economy 8: Which program was created to secure individuals? bank deposits? FDIC Bank Holiday Emergency Banking Relief Act Federal Securities Act 9: What were the three aspects to the New Deal? relief, recovery, distance help, distance, aide help, reform, aide relief, recovery, reform 10: Which was NOT a cause for developing a second New Deal? Unemployment remained high There was still national suffering There was no improvement in the economy Eleanor Roosevelt visited citizens and reported her findings 11: What does Black Tuesday refer to? Oct 29, 1929, a record 16.4 million shares were given away. Oct 29, 1929, a record 16.4 million shares were sold. Dec 12, 1929, the stock market crashed Dec 12, 1929, a new record of shares were sold 12: Who was the first woman to join the Cabinet as the Secretary of Labor? Frances Perkins Mary McLeod Bethune Mary Dewson There were no women in the Cabinet 13: Which was NOT a reform enacted through FDR?s Second New Deal? Works Progress Administration Wagner Act Social Security Act Hawley-Smoot Tariff 14: What finally brought America out of the Great Depression? Works Progress Administration Regulating big business Preparation for World War II America came out on its own (more...)

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In The Pearl by John Steinbeck, plenty of themes and symbols are brought up. Because of the clear themes and symbolism, The Pearl is known as a parable. Steinbeck also introduces us to a great amount of animal imagery which could be described as fable. Throughout the novel, the pearl not only symbolizes beauty, it symbolizes human nature, and in addition- evil. The concept of beauty symbolized by the pearl is more than outward appearance. The pearl that Kino finds not only guarantees the couple a beautiful future, but Coyotito a future full of education, happiness, and wealth, which Kino and Juana find gorgeous. It also promises the town an educated man who can help them from being cheated out of money because of their illiteracy. An example of the beautiful future Kino and Juana will share is that one of the first things Kino wants to do with the riches of his pearl is marry himself and Juana in a church, with new clothing and even shoes. Kino responds to Juan?s question of what he will do now that he is a rich man by softly speaking, ?We will be married- in the church? (31) Kino would also like to protect his family and his town, which is a very kind thing to do, and makes him a very attractive man. A riffle purchase is the best way which he thinks to protect his family; and in order to protect his town, they will need an educated man who will not be cheated by the pearl buyers. ?My son will read and open the books, and my son will write and will know writing. And my son will make numbers, and these things will make us free because he will know-he will know and though him we will know.? (33) Kino has a beautiful plan thought out for his town, his son, and his marriage to Juana. Symbolized by the pearl, Steinbeck show us a clear picture of human nature and what can distort it. The pearl was really a test of human nature in the town of La Paz. Curiosity is part of human nature, and it is especially true in Kino?s town. The townspeople all followed Kino to the doctor?s house after Coyotito was bitten by the scorpion. And after he was rejected, Steinbeck put into words the actions of the onlookers. ?And now a wave of shame went over the whole procession. They melted away. The beggars went back to the church steps, the stragglers moved off, and the neighbors departed?? (15) They were all interested in what was going to happen to the small child, and none of them wanted to see Kino be refused medical treatment for his baby. Another example of curiosity is that word of Kino?s discovery of the pearl spread like wildfire throughout La Paz. ?The news swept on past the brush houses? to the doctor where he sat with a patient whose illness was age? The news came early to the beggars in front of the church?? (28) In addition, while Kino was announcing his plans for his newfound earnings, the people of the town all stood in the doorway of his house nodding at everything Kino was saying. ?The neighbors, close pressed and silent in the house, nodded their heads at his wild imaginings?? (32) The news of Kino selling his pearl was widely known through the town as well. ?It was known among the neighbors in the brush huts, among the pearl fishermen; it was known among the Chinese grocery-store owners; it was known in the church? Word of it crept in among the nuns; the beggars in front of the church spoke of it?? (54) The curiosity of his peers was not an unpleasant thing, but it does get in the way of Kino?s judgment later in the book. Though the pearl does symbolize beauty and good natured humans, it also comes to represent a darker side of the town. Evil played a key part in the later chapters of the book. For instance: at first, the doctor refused to help the poor family, calling them ?animals?, and saying he is not a doctor, not a veterinarian. Motivated by greed, he is quick to offer up assistance after he hears about Kino?s find. Additionally, there was an attempted robbery on the family?s house later that night. Fortunately though, Kino was able to fight whoever it was off with his knife. ?Kino crept into his breast where his knife hung on a string, an then he sprang like an angry cat, leaped striking and spitting for the dark thing he knew was in the corner of the house.? Kino now knows that many people are his enemies, and that there would be several attacks on himself and his family in the future, all for the pearl. Furthermore, Kino starts to become obsessed; the pearl begins to develop into his whole reason for living. ?This pearl has become my soul... If I give it up, I shall lose my soul.? (87) Kino will and does kill for the pearl. Juana realizes what has taken over her husband and attempts to throw the pearl into the ocean. This only ends up in Kino beating Juana to get the pearl back. ?He [Kino] struck her [Juana] in the face with his clenched fist and she fell among the boulders, and he kicked her in the side? (76) Juana forgives him, and they continue on, only to have to escape the town because K i wrote it, and i just wanted opinions on it and stuff.... (more...)

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Hey everyone, how does this sound so far? It's a start for me and I'm hoping to continue on to a long series of novels. I love writing, but my grammar might not be so good, so any suggestions or changes you think I should make then by all means, please let me know. Thanks! Early one foggy morning, an old man went for one of his daily walks along the base of the Trivaldi Mountains. He did this everyday and his bones would hurt, but he knew the walk was good for him and pressed through the pain. His grey beard swayed from side to side with each step. He sat down on top of a small boulder, pulled off his boot, and held it upside down, allowing a small rock to fall out. He struggled to put the boot back on, but finally managed. He looked around. The Forest of the Ancients was as thick and ominous as ever with the fog looming inside it, but that was where he lived and he was use to it. He had never sat on that rock before, but now he realized it was quite nice. He turned to look at the enormous mountain behind him; his body was too weak to climb it, at least now it was. Back in his prime he would have been able to scale it with no problem at all. He hated thinking about how old he was and how he would never be able to enjoy things as he once did. He lived a simple life in his small cottage hidden within the Forest. People would rarely visit him, and those that do were usually dwarfs. Although he did enjoy the dwarfs company, he wished he could see his old friends again. He had shared some great adventures with them, but ever since the Holy Order decreed that any who use or poses magic of any sort will be punished by death, it put a hamper on their relationship. Everyone he knew had gone into hiding, the last he heard from them was about fifteen years ago. He noticed a small dirt path that gently sloped up the mountain. He hoisted himself up and began to walk up it. With an occasional break, it turned out to be an easy enough climb for him. The higher he went, the more breathtaking the view became. He sat down on the dirt path and looked out towards where his home would be. The Forest looked like a sea of green as it stretched as far as his eyes can see, which is pretty far. He made a mental note to climb this hill more often. He pulled off a small leather skin full of water from his belt and took a swig. He then dug out his cloth wrapped breakfast, cheese and a small loaf of bread. He knew he had to return to his cottage soon, because the dwarfs would be showing up around noon with more supplies. The dwarfs were very nice to provide him with these. Ox, the King under the Mountain, was very generous and often provided him with food he would not be able to get on his own. A small dark object caught his eye. He looked to the left and saw a small black book lying hidden inside a crevice in the mountain wall. He fished it out, and immediately knew it was made of powerful magic. The book had an aura of darkness about it; it seemed to pulse in his hand as though it were alive. It was odd that such a random item would be hidden out there. He opened it and flipped through the pages, they were all blank, except for the first page. He put on his spectacles and began reading. It read: ?Do you crave power above any other?? That was all? He wondered what it meant. He sat and pondered over it for quite a while until the sun was up and the fog had dispersed. He stuffed the book in his robes and hurried back to his home. He had to put on some tea before his guests arrived. Inside his cottage he built up the embers in his fireplace and brought them back to a healthy crackling flame. He put on a kettle of tea above the fire and dug out some loaves of bread and some honey. He cleaned out his pockets, laying the water skin by the door and the leftover food on the table. The book he pulled out caught his attention. He looked at it again and opened it. ?Do you crave power above any other?? he read out loud. Suddenly there came a knock on the door. He tossed the book onto his bed and rushed to answer it. There were three dwarfs with large packs on their back. All three seemed to look a lot like each other. They were obviously young dwarfs because their beards only went as low as their waist. The two dwarfs in the back looked almost identical, they both had brown eyes, thick eyelashes, and both of their beards looked unkempt. The dwarf in front was slightly shorter then the other two and he had bright blue eyes and metal beads in his braided beard. ?Ahh, Master Ozax, the King blesses me with the presence of his young prince.? His beard brushed the ground as he bowed as low as his aching bones would let him. ?Greetings master Moruth,? the dwarf in front said as he bowed. Then he motioned to the two dwarfs behind him. ?I?d like to introduce you to my two cousins, Tibbels and Torvold.? The other two dwarfs bowed. ?Welcome friends,? the old man said cheerfully, ?please come in and sit, I?ve lain o I?ve lain out some bread and honey, and the tea should be ready soon.? They took off their cloaks and hung them on the hooks next to the door. Then they unloaded their packs and laid them on the floor. The three dwarfs followed Moruth to the table and sat down in the wooden chairs. ?Any news?? he asked Ozax as the other two helped themselves to the food. ?Things have been quiet for some time Moruth; we haven?t done much aside from letting General Gracchus do his work. The man? head seems to grow as his priests pass more laws. The Holy Order seems to be trying to be above the power of kings, and I think they?re starting to take notice. A family of farmers in Vorathia were killed earlier this month, their neighbor claimed to have seen them using magic. In my opinion the neighbor made it up so he can get their land or settle a dispute.? Moruth slouched down in his chair. He had hoped the Holy Order would give up its hunt for magic and its wielders. But it appears that he won?t live long enough for that day to come. He noticed Ozax get stand up, pulled out his pipe, and lit it with a stick from the fire. The other two were working on their second helping of bread. ?Tell him about the other one they caught,? said Tibbels with a mouthful of bread. Ozax shot him an irritated glance and continued. ?Moruth, they got one of the Arborians, I couldn?t get a name, but I heard they tortured him to get other Arborian locations from him. He bit off his own tongue instead.? Moruth couldn?t believe it. He and twenty-nine others had once been the protectors of the land. They were his dearest friends, and Gracchus was now slowly killing them off one-by-one. Who had the Holy Order tortured this time? If the Order was supposed to represent good, then why are they permitted to torture anyways? ?Moruth, you look tired,? Ozax said as he sat back down next to the old man, ?perhaps you should go rest, we?ll finish our meal and start chopping some more wood for you.? They sat silently as Moruth nodded his agreement; he stood up, took off his boots, walked over to the bed and lay down. The others mumbled something indiscernible amongst them and then stood up and walked outside. Throughout the day he could hear the dwarfs whistling as they chopped wood and stacked them near the door. He dozed off to a dream filled slumber. He saw each of his friend?s faces; each of them had looks of terror as though they too were being tortured. He then found himself walking through a forest full of thick trees, he walked around a tree and saw a body lying at the foot of it. He walked over to the limp form and rolled him over; it was a clean shaven red headed man. His face contorted with the look of pain and his tongue was missing. He sat up in bed; he was breathing hard and his body damp with sweat. He knew the man in his dream and he began to weep. His bare foot touched something cold. It was the leather of the black book he tossed on the bed earlier. He grabbed the book and looked at the writing in it again. Was it possible that this book can possess the king of power needed to stop the Holy Order? He held the book firmly in both hands. ?Do you crave power above any other?? ?Yes,? he said out loud. Nothing happened. He turned the page, and there was new writing in it. It read: ?Then lets us begin.? He turned to the next page, it was blank, he went back and the first two pages were blank. Irritated he threw the book back on the bed and rested his face in his hands. He felt odd, he lifted his head and looked down at his hands. The tips of his fingers had a black glow about them. He wiped them on his robe and looked. It was like a black cloud that floated at the very tips of his fingers. He didn?t know what to do. He looked out his small window and saw the dwarfs were still busy chopping wood. It looks as though they had made a game of it by seeing who could chop the cleanest. Moruth walked to the door and went outside, his hands tucked in his robes. ?Well that looks like enough wood to last me a good long while,? he said. The dwarfs looked up at him, welcoming the small break. ?Are you sure, sir?? asked Ozax, ?The cold has set in and the snow should be coming any day.? ?Oh no, I?m fine, I can manage.? The old man hastily replied. ?Well?? Ozax looked around. ?Alright, we?ll stack the wood and be done. Should only take us a few minutes.? ?Alrighty,? said the old man cheerily, ?take care, and thanks so much for the help. As always, I?m in King Ox?s debt.? He closed the door quickly and grabbed the book. He sat down by the fire and looked inside it again. The end of the first chapter. Remember this is a first draft and pretty much me putting it down on paper for the first time. (more...)

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Hello! My husband and I both work on the same government contract. The funding for it is winding down; we probably have until end of year 2009 but it's a good idea to start looking now. I'd really like to consider moving - either to the Orlando, Florida area, or Boulder, Colorado. Our company has a lot of nice opportunities there, but my husband thinks it would be too stressful. I doubt there will come another time where we're both looking for new jobs, so the main stress is relocating and selling/buying old/new houses. Our oldest is starting 1st grade, and I think now would be an easier time on her and her little sister rather than waiting until they're older. We've lived in the same area all of our lives, and I'd like the chance to live in some new areas and experience either the mountains or the sun. It would be most welcome if you could share your experiences (both good and bad) on relocating. Thanks, in advance, for your time. (more...)

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Today I did the Glorious Mysteries. I had this image in my head the whole time of the giant boulder being rolled away from Jesus' tomb. Even when I tried meditating on other aspects like the Ascension, my mind would always return to that giant rock. Heavy. An obstruction to be removed. I know there's something in it, but I'm not sure what to make of it yet. Care to share any of your rosary experiences? (Sorry mine's so nebulous.) (more...)

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SO i am traveling out of the country to Tajikistan, and it is a custom to give gifts to the people you meet. I have bought a fair share of gifts, so i thought that I could make CD's for the kids i meet. I live in Boulder, CO and was wondering if there was any good local bands, or bands that have come from Boulder that i can put on the CD. I already have Rosehill drive (GREAT BAND) The fray and Bg Head Todd and the Monsters. Any suggestions? I need answers by Tomorrow, Tuesday July 8th! Thanks! (more...)

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To Whom the Blame Falls Not a thousand good deeds of charity and benevolence could atone for what she had done. She sank slowly onto a cheap couch and let her head fall to her hands. All the years she had remained reticent ? all the angry, silent meetings ? all the nights she had spent crying in hurt and frustration ? and this was the result, the final end and culmination of a long and bitter battle. Everything she had held onto for the past seven years came crashing down, and a giant void assumed the place where her rancor had been. It was over. There was no one left to hate. None but herself. Quietly, she began to sob. Unwillingly, her mind vaulted into a deep pit of memories, forcing things upon her she had tried so hard to forget: life as it had been before the boyfriend came to ruin everything, and all the dastardly things that happened afterward. Emotion swelled through her body, and she bit her lip, trying to ease the pain. How much easier it would be if she could just forget ? banish these images from her mind. It did not matter if they were pleasant or not, for they taunted her with the single figure she cared for most, the single figure to whom she ever felt truly akin, the single figure who was now gone forever. Her mother. She tried to focus, tried to clear her mind and form a rational plan of what would come next, but she could not. All she could think of was that she could not remember the last time she had shown her mother the slightest shred of affection. No, she had fondled her pride too closely for that, and now it was all that remained to her. Her mother was dead, and all the words she had waited to say lay like boulders in the pit of her stomach, churning about unpleasantly and tormenting her with their horrid shrieks. Why had she been unable to speak? Why couldn?t she let go of this load which had burdened her these seven years? Why couldn?t she, even now, forgive her? Wounds, deep wounds, had festered within her for so long that she could not imagine what life was like without them. Her mother was dead, but still she could not forgive her, or herself, or him. It all began with that bastard of a boyfriend. He had a name, but she never called him by it. He did not deserve the honor of a name ? nay, for that would make him seem human, and she considered the dirt beneath her feet worthier than he. She referred to him simply as ?the frickin? boyfriend.? She hated him with a passion nothing in the world could eradicate, because he stole from her the only person who meant anything at all to her. She and her mother had been best friends practically since the day she was born, and her mother liked to joke that she created her own best friend. They had shared everything ? and basked in the joy of more laughter and happy days in a year than most people were blessed with in a lifetime. She shared all her mother?s woes with a patience and understanding not in congruence with her age, and because of this had less of a childhood than was perhaps fitting. But she begrudged none of this, and was willing to sacrifice whatever was necessary in order to give proof of the love she felt with all her being. She was continually endeavoring to prove her great love, and she suffered for it, but with a smile, for she would not have traded this for all the riches in the world. She was happy and lucky and she had glowed with contentment. And then he came and took it all away. She spat at the very mention of him. What had he done, after all, to earn this right and privilege? What right had he to descend upon her thus and snatch all she held dear ? drain the color from her life? True, he could do for her mother what she herself could not ? take her dancing and go to bars with her ? but she could not understand the great importance in these things. Were they really so much better than spending the day hiking in the fresh cleanliness of the mountains, talking freely and basking in the affinity of their friendship? Perhaps it was the newness of it that made it so irresistible, but still she could not understand when it persisted. From where did this man gain inherent superiority over her, that made all her love in vain ? that made her mother choose him over her? The words cut more deeply than any knife could have done: her mother chose him. She had not reacted well to his presence, refusing to see him and withdrawing into herself. It was her way of quietly protesting this grave injustice, her way of hinting that she could not accept this oppressive force, this enemy. But her mother did not understand this silent plea, and she paid it no heed. By drawing away, she expected her mother to follow her, to value their friendship above all else as she herself did, thus showing that she cared for her more, and always would ? that no outsider could take her place. She desired this to happen, willed it into existence, but it did not. Instead of bringing them closer together, it pushed them apart, and the being she tried so hard to regain slipped through her clenched fingers. Almost imperceptibly, the present became the past, and the past was gone forever ? a thing swept downriver by a fast current ? all she could do was grieve its passing. She tried to move on, but acute memories snagged themselves like angry thistles in her brain. Even now, after so much time had passed, they cut like poisoned thorns, embedding themselves in her flesh and spreading their wrath through her bloodstream. Like the time her mother had snapped at her and told her to get some friends her own age. She wanted her out of the way now ? spending time with her daughter was now only second-rate, and more like a chore, for she had to pay for the ice cream. Things were free when she went out with him. Or the time she couldn?t sleep and accidently woke her mother up because she made a noise in the kitchen. The mother who would have once comforted a suffering girl no longer existed, and she cared only about her precious rest. Center stage appealed to her, and there was not room for anyone else; at least only at appropriate hours. The suffering of others ought only make itself known when it was convenient. But what hurt most was the day her mother told her that she was ruining her life. She was ruining her life because she refused to meet the frickin? boyfriend. That was the day she left home ? the day she threw her belongings out of a window and moved in with her father. She planned to be gone a week, but her mother made it absolutely impossible for her to return. The chasm between them widened so far that they could no longer see one another clearly. All that remained was a dim memory. She became a stranger in the home of her childhood ? the home she had loved so dearly and declared she would never leave. She had painted those walls and dug those flowerbeds, the hours she had toiled over them ? they had belonged to her, been her undeniable property. Now they were as separated from her as the bottom of the ocean. She was left with nothing. She considered suicide. It seemed quite reasonable and practical since life was not worth living anymore. The future was as cold and bleak as a hundred miserable winters strung in succession. There was no point to living, really. All the best had passed and it made no sense to eke out a shabby existence in the painful shadow of her climax. The idea enticed her forcefully, and thought of it pleased and comforted her late at night. Maybe when she was dead her mother would feel sorry about what she had done to her. Maybe then she would feel she had done wrongly. But in the end she did not, probably because she was too cowardly to venture into such a great unknown. Instead she tried to forget ? tried to drown and bury her memories under a deluge and load of movies and parties ? bury them so deep that she would never recover them. But as surely as oil eludes water, they surfaced and reopened all the old wounds. Waves of grief and regret ambushed her without reason or provocation, and she learned painfully that a person does not ?get over? these sorts of things. These sorts of things do not simply go away. They cling to you, like parasites, until they become part of you; and you have to live with them, because there is not a surgeon in the world who can remove them. Nevertheless, she managed somehow. She made idle friends who never called or asked her how she was doing. Her relationships did not last ? her few attempts proved to her that they were her Achilles? heel, and so she abandoned all hope of salvation in that direction. She labeled herself a misanthrope and dealt with it. She was not happy anymore, but neither was she dreadfully unhappy, and the pain of that first separation rendered her capable of coping with the problems that presented themselves. There were always more problems. She solved them just quickly enough to keep her life bearable, and she trudged her way through life silently, uncomplainingly, telling herself it was her own fault for pushing the best person out of her life and leaving that damnable August day. She had brought it upon herself. Brutal honesty did little to comfort her. And then the phone call came that changed her life once again. Her mother was dead. Gone were all her foolish fancies of ever kissing and making up ? going back to the way things used to be ? and gone was any last, lingering hope that things would be better. There was no chance for redemption. Every day she had forced herself to get up, clinging to the religious belief that it was all a dream and that she would soon wake from it and see her mother smiling down on her, ready with a batch of freshly made pancakes ? the feel of her mother?s soft hands with their strong, almond-shaped nails. Those hands would never move again. She had waited seven years for them to beckon to her, she realized, been quietly waiting, pretending that she had forgotten and pretending that she did not care. In truth, it was the only thing that had ever mattered to her. She shuddered as a surge of latent grief burst from deep within her. She wiped the stream of tears pouring down her face and dunked her head in cold water. How had it come to this? How had two people been so utterly incapable of resolving their differences in seven years? It had been a steady path leading towards destruction, and they had caused it all. It was her mother?s fault really, because she had chosen someone else. Things had been wonderful the way they were; it was she who set out to change it ? went looking for something better. No, it was her own fault, because she had refused to accept ? refused to share the being she loved most, and thinking she could prevent the inevitable. She had protested in fury, but who but herself had suffered most for it? But, it was his fault, surely, for it he had not come along none of this would have ever happened. None of it would have ever happened. All alone, she wept. thanks krista! thanks HP Fanatic! you're awesome! (more...)

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We spread our wings and flew the nest, In Yorkshire's 'Dales' we came to rest. No longer young but game to play, three friends a creaking walked the way. Our pace was slowed by a medical anomaly, the handsome, fair chap writing this little homily. But Sir Wil' the Courteous at each little rest, took a chance at death by trying to jest. "Dangerman," said he-addressing me, you're holding us up, we'll be late for our tea. If you don't move faster, you'll find I'm the master, For my camera records each undignified slip. But disaster struck the master as he strode ever faster, he suddenly halted pain curling his lip. Our leader stuck down, only just out of town with feet throbbing, tormenting and giving him 'Gyp.' Sir Wil' was down but help was at hand, for Sir Roger had training in healing the 'creaky Brigand.' His forte was feet, but although training not complete, gave advice which did heal Sir Wil's 'plates of meat.' Onward we rambled in countryside still, Colin grimacing and shocked by fair Sir Roger's bill. For he charged Wil' twenty guineas, curses what a bitter pill. "He'll have me in debtor's court; What a scoundrel, what a rogue. We all know charging guineas was yesteryear's vogue." We ambled sedately in countryside fair. Lady Carole providing our sustenance there. She made delightful provisions so tasty and sweet, that after our hike we felt most replete. She carried our water, held open each gate. Such a kind, thoughtful lady, made our day such a memorable date. Janet's Foss, our first glimpse of nature's fine gift. The rock strewn landscape, our spirits did lift. The water cascading down with its life giving flow, onto moss laden boulders a short drop below. We all took our time to rest and gaze at the scene. Kindly Roger cupping hand in brook, to wipe his brow clean. For the walk did cause our faces to glow, the water cooling, scooped from the sweet passing flow. The three "SAS hopeful's" rounding a bend. Such a sight to behold, watching climbers ascend. The awesome, towering cliffs, seeming to surround, and inviting the adventurers, so many did abound. This titanic remnant of glacial flows of old; This heart stopping moment that we so longed to behold. The winding path we slowly ascended, Colin capturing moments that too soon were ended. His photographic skills ensuring moments sublime as we strode weakly upward on a gentle incline. Solitude amidst friends, private thoughts of awe. In such wild and rugged landscape, created without flaw. Each moment seemed extended, the grass green slopes aglow. With limestone pavement peeping through, our eyes on the sweeping valley below. And so the weary trio did walk homeward, Feet heavy but with hearts filled anew. "Gordale Scar" that we so long had dreamed of, a memory shared by so few. (more...)

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