Monday, February 28, 2011

Hair Ribbon Volleyball

Neither the gas nor the ice


Ben Nevis, I do not know what author / climber was pointing. Dougal Haston ? I have a soft spot for mountain literature. I selfishly gray. I will not try to convince anyone. I give you this name, however, Ben Nevis.

be generous. It was in Scotland.

Thivel Remi had taken some pictures last season. I rediscovered them in passing. Photos s'esquintant conventional chapters ends in a freezer ? No, Scotland has a little something that we liked of entry . Once the fog rises, so.

Over the years, the look of the guide explores the qualities of moisture that would make jealous a washing machine. This year, new wash . Is the eye of the photographer who becomes so sensitive? Come on, do not tremble.

Neither ice or gas * does annoy ...

* * *

Thanks to the author who has kindly authorized me to reproduce one of his photos. Dedicated to a rather original ...

course you immediately observed was that the rope climbing Butress Observatory Road Classic ...

order not to lose, climbers give memorable names to the routes they travel.







* vacuum in the jargon

How To Wash Off Semen

Perforeilles the radio and on the net



Tuesday, March 1 at 23 pm

listen to some guests of the forthcoming Perforeilles

on South radio channel (for Toulouse on 92.2 FM)

and for all, worldwide,
streamed live on the site of the radio:

Friday, February 25, 2011

Card Friend Who Got Engaged Wording

Report "Final"!

The documents left by mail this morning.
And the paper manuscript is ready to go in the mail.
Like what, everything starts to happen. But I must admit it feels weird: very mixed feelings that overwhelmed me last night, so that I could not click "send" before this morning!
First, I had the feeling of "losing" something, so I did not click on the famous "send", just to delay the deadline. And at the same time, I was seized with a sort of frenzy, emergency, who told me that he absolutely had to leave. Basically, it's the classic story of the child becomes an adult and must live his own life, but her mom has trouble letting go, she would accompany another stretch of road and is concerned about what he will become and how he is going to be able to manage without her.

So a story of trust: trust in others, in this particular publisher, but also and especially in myself and what I wrote: As the final manuscript stays with me, I do 'm officially not face the light and criticisms of the Other. But from the time the manuscript is gone, he no longer mine. It becomes public and saw his own life without me.
Still, I will still have a say on the tests before the final printing. Apart from that, I will not have my say and no letter or comma can be changed ...

Story to follow ...

Wednesday, February 23, 2011

Connection Of Ceiling Fan Regulator

Progress Report

Petit point on the novel will come out in a few weeks now:

Final preparations are almost complete. I finished all the accompanying documents (address book, biography, arguments for the 4th of coverage, plans, tables, appendix to the novel).
Similarly, coverage is progressing well (thank you Emily!) And corrections (the last, I promise!) Are on track to be completed: even a full reading for misspellings and other typos, and there will be!
Hopefully, I'll be in the same time against the demands of the publisher.

It is not beautiful, life?

In a few weeks, you should have a nice copy of the book in the hands ... I'm sure you're anxious! (Me, anyway, I look forward to it!)

Sunday, February 20, 2011

Wedding Congratulations Messages Spiritual

The cake

Today Gwen celebrates his wedding anniversary. 18! Hats off, lady! And so, today's theme for the workshop is ... Marriage!
So I started.


I worked with was love. It shaped me by putting his whole heart, and I'm perfect in his eyes, with an exceptional scale capable of performing the ease of hundred wedding guests.
I am the highlight of the festival, the fireworks must finish the evening off and let the guests a lasting memory. Moreover, as a trophy, I throne in a room with the glass wall is a vow of married, so all can admire me.
And no one denies it, you can believe me!

By early evening, when the pastry dropped me here, I really felt how proud he was. Proud of me, his work, but also him. The newlyweds are important people, and he is the new pastry chef of the village, which was chosen for the dessert of marriage! What an honor it is for him ... I can not disappoint, and I'm perfect. It will be noticed, parents married, the notables of the town, talk to him soon, will advise their influential friends for their receptions in the "world", and his case "take off" at last.
But children already crowded behind the glass. They are all beautiful in their costumes custom-matched. The girls wear pretty dresses beige with touches of pink on a shirt spotless, and the boys of the same beige shorts, a white shirt and a rose in his buttonhole. They are stylish! Among younger women, the pink of course, already gone. But the point is that the pictures are successful. After all, what remains once the day is over. It is for this reason that the photographer had all gathered before the ceremony: the picture should be perfect!
The faces gaze at me are pretty, chubby, pink and gays. The innocence of childhood is extraordinary. They play, laugh seeing me, rejoicing in advance to be able to eat my cream puffs and brittle that covers them. They are happy to meet, play together and share this beautiful day. I do not know their names, but it seems that some are brothers and sisters, while others might be their cousins. I see one, moreover, that seems different, despite the same "uniform". He stands back, almost to the side, it looks like ... Could it be that he does not know ? It is impossible to suggest that clothing is part of the same family, they are all children of honor that form the procession accompanying the bride enters the church, in large and wealthy families of our campaigns. And this similarity with the other ... the family resemblance is obvious. Ah! Here's a lady who comes! How beautiful! And what grace, what class! I'm not falling into a low-end marriage, me! What beautiful people! She wears a hat very original which look great. She saw me and looked at me with a big smile and gentle. And here is a very elegant man also approaching her. It beckons children to get back into the room and ... Oh! The young woman .... her pretty smile has disappeared! It's strange. I suddenly feel it is sad ... no! It is the fear that I feel! An indescribable fear, violent and deaf. It's almost the terror that suddenly this ugly face so charming a few seconds ago ... What secret hides this man, what's so afraid of his wife? It seems paralyzed ... The man puts his hand on his arm to lead him, and I do not think I was mistaken: it is a start of fear that I have seen. She mastery yet exceptionally well. She has already regained her smile, its maintenance and class. She takes the man's arm and walks away from me, not without me cast a last look. My God! As he changed from that which it had arrived! This is an unfathomable sadness, as if a chasm had opened before her and she had no choice but to dive ... They have already left. The child, who was away, also witnessed the scene. He said nothing, not a gesture. It is different and I feel that he understood everything. But understand what?

Another woman approaches. She walks toward him, wants take by the hand, but the child presses against her. The woman was about thirty years, his clothes are more arbitrary than the woman who just left, but their simplicity can not hide the grace and poise of this woman who just imposes his presence. An immense sadness tarnishes his handsome face, accentuating the strange resemblance to the other woman. Yet there is in it an extra something that I can not define. They could be twins ... A man in a suit very easy, simple and unadorned, reaches behind her and puts his hands on his shoulders. It seems to be suffering, empathize with the pain of what must be his wife. He looks strong, sturdy, and supports a time. I sense hesitation, then she takes it too. His face hardens, it adjusts the collar of his shirt and puts into place a bit rebellious. It suspended its actions for a moment, his eyes staring at the floor, then raises his head. His face is impassive now determined. She takes the hand of the child, the other goes under the arm of her husband and the little family returned to the room of the festivities. They did not say a word. Without doubt they had already said enough before.

A little later, I have the pleasant surprise of seeing the bride leave the room. She is beautiful, charming even, and spirited. A new life is being started for her, and she seems very happy, very fulfilled. It looks like two drops of water to the two women I've already seen earlier. No doubt what their younger sister: she has the same grace, the same distinction that the same soft look and happiness and peace which is the spotless bride. She approaches the window and I gaze a moment with her big bright eyes and generous. They smile, like her, before this promising life ahead. The personality of the couple suggests a comfortable life: she is the daughter of a noble-born doctor, recognized. It's a real size in the field of practice, an eminent specialist in nervous and mental diseases, married the daughter of an aristocrat in the region.
The groom, he is the son of an industrialist who made his fortune and went into politics, supported by his wife, daughter of a general of the Second World War. He was a hero who gave his children a strong sense of patriotism. They live a house about ten minutes drive from town.
The bride has the flashing eyes, she is beaming with happiness and his marriage is in the best auspices. She made a few dance steps in front of me, twirling in front of amused and softened the cook who looks for a few moments, then she will join her guests who are waiting in the hall where the meal will be served as soon as it joined her young husband.

The waitresses have finally started their ballet. They range from the office to the room, passing me, arms bearing trays of delicacies and baskets full of small breads. The waiter also came in the room with a bottle of wine, and it will stop most of the evening, going without probably from one table to another, constantly filling the glasses of the guests.
Two young girls dressed in service come sit by my window, on the chairs once occupied by two old ladies chic who have since joined the room with other guests. They seem to wait until the guests have cleared their plates and enjoy this little time to chat.
"Whew, we're going ... ... still for ten minutes?" Said one smiling.
- Yeah, well, I'm not comfortable, if you want know everything!
- Shhh! You know you have nothing to say! We did our job, that's all!
- but still! You know me how it works and what will happen to her!
- Yes, but please, shut up! If the "old" surprises us, we got fired illico both!
- Rhâââ! It infuriates me! When I think of this pauv'fille! You know, I knew in college, she was so nice ... I'm really scared of it ...
- Shhh! That's the groom! Arise! "

And here. They are distributed to grind, and I do not understand anything. It's a wedding, right? It looks like a funeral ...
And he is the groom?
Finally, I see! He's tall, he wears a rich and beautiful plain linen suit, he has class, attentiveness, as the young woman he married. He immediately impresses. If I were a woman, I'd probably be delighted with the way he looks at me! It's a nice man, very young, I think he said. It must be about twenty-five years, much more. It has a sweet face, bright, beaming. He looks happy, and that's the least the day we got married! It is indeed strange now that I think. This contrasts with the two young women earlier ... As if they knew something they know. And it's his wedding!
A woman of a certain age is out of the ballroom. She approaches the groom, she is radiant, visibly very happy. She adjusts the bow of the young man gives up his jacket and dusts. It looks like any mother who married her son. His second son. Because I have already met the eldest, I think. Yes, it is unmistakably the man who was so frightened the older sister of the bride earlier. It does not look like the groom, whose face is much smoother, but to his mother. This woman, despite its efforts, resembles a dragon. His face is hard, cruel. It will swallow up its second stepdaughter as she extinguished the life of the first, obviously.
His eyes say lust and joy unhealthy face the son she married. Another stepdaughter, soon grandchildren, and a slave over the family castle. Because it is obvious that, like its predecessor, the bride will have no choice but to submit to the will of his stepmother.
Until death do us part.

Amelie Platz, February 20, 2011

Sunday, February 13, 2011

Cubefield The Green Level

What she thinks?

New Workshop in Gwen Sunday. Freedom is total, from the table that it offers. It shows a young woman sitting at a cafe. What does she think?


It was cool in the morning of May 22, 1934. It was nice to be in Louisiana, the weather was not even in the summer.
She was sitting at a table in a cafe where she waited patiently for her lover. He had promised to come, but he must be careful. His brother had been killed for less than that on the path of a stray bullet ... She knew he had to take some precautions. This would be a pity they found today, and in this way.
She began to dream. It was a quiet day ahead. Everything was ready for the next mission, they had to wait. And that allowed them to spend many hours together. She was waiting for this for several weeks: a full day with nothing else to do than be with him. She had a number of things to say, many questions for him, but she knew that this was not the time and had decided, despite the burden that weighed on his shoulders, not to distract the work before they were to finish together. Could jeopardize its success. It did not used to doing nothing, and this time she had spent at the cafe seemed to have come from a sort of in-between, as if time had made a pause in its headlong race . She was the first surprise, but had found it very pleasant in the end. Tomorrow, after the conclusion of this case, maybe they could finally take some time for them. The death of his brother had thinking. Her sister had been devastated, and she would not suffer the same fate. If he died, it did not survive. She loved him so much! To him, she was able to go halfway around the world. And she was so young! At 24, we still have a lifetime ahead.

The journey to Arcadia would not be very long. An hour or two at most: their car was fast and powerful. If only her husband agreed to stop there! But he still wanted more. This life he proposed and which he had been accustomed in the last two years was exactly what she had always dreamed of: exciting, exhilarating, fun too. They often changed from home, it's true, but he certainly does not treat men as usual treat their wives. It does not limit the role of perfect wife, who must take proper home and prepare dinner while waiting for his return from the office wisely. No, she was his equal, his soul mate, his partner, and together they took all the decisions that concerned their relationship and their lives. She might try to project into the future, it failed to consider radical change in their hectic life. Children? Yes, of course, she had thought! She had even spoken. But he was not ready to abandon his life of adventure to land quietly in a neat little house ... She even wondered if it would ever be possible. In fact, if she tried to be honest with herself, she did not even know if she had really wanted. He would leave this life, others do not allow them probably not. And what did she know him really, apart from the exciting life they led? How was it daily? Bear it work routine, repetitive, with fixed schedules and regular, and all for a pittance? It was so far from their current life ... They would have to radically change in lifestyle. No, that was not possible. He was too fond of luxury, beautiful cars, costumes cut to size, which would deprive a day. And then she had also taken a liking to this life, she gave him such facilities and did not specifically to do without.
And yet ... She said they should stop one day soon. She was well aware that it could not continue this way. If only she found the courage to tell him what There was deep in his heart, if she came to talk to him, all might yet be arranged. After all, Clyde was 25. He was young, there was life before him. Bonnie's might make him change his mind?
Tomorrow ...

Amelie Platz, February 13, 2011


Bonnie Parker and Clyde Barrow were planning an attack on a bank of Arcadia for May 23 The police had got wind of this project and organized an ambush near their hideout. They remained on alert for 2:00 to 9:00 in the morning, at which time the car of two lovers arrived at a brisk pace. They then opened fire, riddling the car multiple bullets and killing Bonnie and Clyde in passing ...

Sunday, February 6, 2011

Write Wedding Card Happily Ever After

Suites alliterative

Today is Sunday. And who said on Sunday, said "writing workshop" in Gwen . And here are the instructions for today:

If some of you are familiar with the issue Of The Mind Papuans, they have heard of alliterative suites. Kesako? The alliteration is an effect produced by repeated use in a sentence, the same sound. In a later alliterative, he is abusing the process. Here, for example, the beginning of a series of alliterative " credit" , written by Dominique Muller:
"Crénom! What a moron, this creature! This is not the Holy Chrism is the caul! Quick, put ide cream, but skimmed, "he decreed to said creature, creamer of her condition, and united by the sacred bond of marriage and the creamery to master decrepit places. She notched bodice crepe, protests, secretly, his belief rooted in the earthy sweetness of twilight Creole ...
I offer this Sunday, to write your turn, a continuation alliterative, with the maximum of his "ace " in your text where it will be compulsory ... the word "scorpion", this beautiful fish that is now used for illustrative ... (between 15 and 50 lines, approximately).

Very little inspired (yes, it happens), I struggled to write a few lines. But I decided to play the game without cheating. And here is what it gave:

Like a fish in the net

She stared without seeing the gourd hanging on the terrace. His past came back to him, the haunted, the weary. She saw the cafe terrace, opposite the rose window of the church on the site. She finished her cup of tea he had arrived, and for a fleeting moment, she thought he had found his place.
Like an asteroid, he chased everything that made its world, doing hands on it, its present and its future.
He had had it escaped. Oh, she had initially faced. But he grabbed her hair, had been trapped in his net like a scorpion, while calling her lazy, whore and bitch.
face of such baseness, she had caught bass that sat in the living room, and had smashed in his face, breaking his nose in the mirror.
She was finally returned to earth, determined to erase all traces.

Amelie Platz, February 6, 2011