Mere bevis for en King David-æra fæstning ?

� KHIRBET QEIYAFA, Israel (JTA)? Under en sky af mørkere skyer på en bakke oven over dalen, hvor traditionen siger David og Goliat gjorde kamp, de arkæolog Yosef Garfinkel triumferende hviler sine hænder på en 10-ton kalksten rock, en del af en nyopdagede anden port til en gammel berigede byen han er unearthing.

Garfinkel ser den massive gate, den største nogensinde fundet fra den periode, som potentielt yderligere beviser, at det første kongerige af israelitterne var lige så store som Bibelen beskriver . Mere

SotD 11-10

sang:

"Poison eller afhjælpe" ved Glass Candy fra Deep Gems

Download 03_poison_or_remedy.mp3

tesen (nyorientering):

Så meget som du kan få glæde af at bruge din kasserede tindåser at have Toppen hemmelige samtaler sæt dig højere , du gerne vil vide, hvis der er noget kreativt at gøre med tin dåser. Her er nogle ideer til at få dig i gang.

Tindåser er nyttige, når du ønsker at få organiseret , og kan være dekoreret til matche tapet eller ligner en robot . De gør god pincushions . Eller sengerammer . Dåser kan bruges som stikkontakt eller lyskontakt plader , eller som lyset turneringsplaner selv. Du kan bruge dem som en alternativ til tapet , eller, afhængigt af dit klima Og hvor meget suppe du spiser bygge med dem . De kan bruges til at vokse en væg haven eller urter . Hvis du er en musikalsk type, du kan bruge dem til at gøre en amp , en banjo , en tommelfinger klaver eller Bongos . Hvis kunst er mere tasken, måske du vil foretage en Pac-Man eller fugl skulptur , eller tjek David Wasserman arbejde , eller Orlando Forge Metal Studio's tin kan kunstgalleri eller dette galleri for nogle inspiration. Bare ikke får også transporteres væk, ligesom Marge .

Training Ground for den næste generation

lørdag Post: "Inspireret School Design"

***

Visuals med en ny Hensigt

jeg var glad for at have for nylig opdaget fotograf Monica Nouwens, hvem der giver den visuelle undersøgelse af 'skole design' i Los Angeles en saltvandsindsprøjtning via hendes" monicanovolumethree "blog disse dage .

Fra Californien arkitekt Stephen Phillips , AIA, følgende kommentar af hans er værd passerer langs:

Nouwen? S fotografiske forskning i Los Angeles,
udfordringer de virkninger, som de seneste skolen revitalisering projekter har
havde på dagligdagen i sin by beboere. Nouwen? S billeder afslører
skoler, der opretter en uddannelse jorden for den næste generation gennem
store, store, stærke og moderne bygningskonstruktioner.

Pssst: Har du fange denne linje af hans om "uddannelse jorden for den næste generation" business? Mmm. ( wink )

En anden side af Campus

I forbindelse med mit nye forpligtelse til at re-frame min mandag-søndag
udstationering vaner gennem specifik kategori temaer fra dette punkt ud - dvs lørdage er nu "Inspireret School Design" dage - disse billeder kom ind i mit liv på en virkelig fordelagtige tidspunkt, for:

Beautiful | Decay Faktisk

Funny hvor inspiration løgne.

Nogle gange er den bedste skole design ligger ned den urbane 'kunst' kanin hul. Sådanne var tilfældet i aften, som jeg fulgte en tillid til os wink og et nej kiddin 'puffe fra de gode folk at holde tingene visuelt reelle over på Wooster Kollektiv .

Det er hvordan jeg fundet Beautiful | Decay og deres højdepunkt i skole design , der førte mig til Monica's arbejde. Gå tal!

en sidste ting

Tjek Monica's arbejde med et par andre fronter, hvis du gravede hendes arbejde:

• "Volume 1" blog
• "bind 2" blog

"...or else we didn't win anything at all."

I went to a local park and had lunch with a friend of mine today. It?s beautiful here, but we can tell that it?s Summer?s last attempt to hold Autumn at bay, and we?ll be suffering through the misery of sixty degree afternoons soon enough. There?s even rumor of an inch of rain before the end of the year, which we both know will turn our freeways deadly. Um, it also seemed like a good excuse to walk away from the computer and enjoy actual human contact for a change. While we ate sandwiches and watched little kids chase each other, we talked about the election. We?re two small blue spots in a sea of red here, and we?d shared hopes and fears over the last several months.

?I guess we?re supposed to be gracious in victory,? I said, ?but I?m profoundly offended to hear ?we need to look forward and not backward? and ?we need to stop being so partisan? from the very same fucking motherfuckers who have been telling us that we hate our country and love terrorists for the last eight years? These are the same people who worked really hard to make sure that I and everyone who didn?t agree with their blind support of Bush and Bush policies didn?t feel welcome in our own fucking country for eight years!?

I looked down at my hands, which had involuntarily clenched into fists. I felt a frightening and unexpected, uncharacteristic fury rise in my chest.

?I want to grab these people by the throat and scream at them ?HOW DO YOU LIKE IT FUCKER?! YOU LOST! YOU FAIL! YOU GO HOME NOW!??

I kept my voice low, but was really worked up, shocked and horrified at the level of anger I was feeling.

We looked at each other for a moment. I was embarrassed by my outburst. This really isn?t like me. Fortunately, my friend is incredibly cool and unflappable. She is also incredibly wise. She put her sandwich down and wiped the corners of her mouth with a paper napkin.

She pointed out at the different people in the park and said, ?They are home. We share this country, all of us, whether we like it or not.

?We voted against intolerance for people that don?t share ?the right? views because we and people we respect and admire have been the victims of intolerance for too long. We voted against hypocrisy and fear and hate. We voted for a chance to change.?

I unclenched my fists and looked at little half-moons in the palms of my hands. ?I should feel celebratory. I should feel happy and relieved. Why in the world do I suddenly feel so angry??

?Seething quietly and privately is understandable and totally warranted. Just, every time you want to grab someone by the throat, try to remember how both Obama and McCain have always reacted to boos from their audiences. One man said ?we don?t need any more of that? ? and that?s the administration we voted for. Because we don?t need any more of that. We need to chip away at the havens of hate in this country until there is nothing left for the haters to fight with. Because that is going to be the biggest payback of all.

?Someday, the people that ?don?t feel welcome? in a tolerant and just place aren?t going to feel welcome anywhere.

?We don?t need to take any shit from anyone, but we can not become the bullies we?ve hated. Or else we didn?t win anything at all.?

While I processed all of this, she smiled and added, ?Yes, my horse is very high, and I like it that way. I can see a long way from up here.?

?Damn. You?re wise,? I said. ?I?m going to have to write down ?We don?t need any more of that? and use it to get over eight years of resentment. It?s going to take awhile to get over being called a traitor and being told to, effectively, ?shut up and sing,? but you?re absolutely right. We can not become the bullies we?ve hated.?

We finished our sandwiches, and walked through the park before we both had to get home to our families.

?Maybe I shouldn?t have had a second cup of coffee this morning,? I offered.

?I?m sure you?ll get your cool back once it wears off.?

I hope she?s right.

Afterthought: This doesn?t mean that progressives suddenly drop our agenda to fundamentally change things. This doesn?t mean that we don?t fight for what we believe in over the next four and hopefully eight years. This means that, as human beings and as Americans, we can choose to live in John McCain?s vision of an angry, divided, fearful America, or Barack Obama?s vision of a tolerant, united, hopeful America. It?s not going to be easy for me, especially after the hateful, divisive campaign McCain ran and eight years of being screamed at by George Bush's True Believers. But as my friend said, ?We need to chip away at the havens of hate in this country until there is nothing left for the haters to fight with. Because that is going to be the biggest payback of all ? we can not become the bullies we?ve hated. Or else we didn?t win anything at all.?

Preening

You may have gleaned from my posts that I'm learning French or, more accurately, that I'm enrolled in French classes.  Whether there has been any learning remains to be seen.  Happily, I find one of the best modes of instruction is reading French poetry.  (I mean, what do you know?)  Here's a poem from one of my favorite authors, Raymond Queneau.  See what you can understand (translation below).  (And it helps to read the original aloud with a rhee-di-kuh-lus Frauench aghsennt .)

?L?Esp? Humaine?

L?esp? humaine m?a donn?r />le droit d??e mortel
le devoir d??e civilis?r />la conscience humaine
deux yeux qui d?ailleurs ne fonctionnent pas tr?bien
le nez au milieu du visage
deux pieds deux mains
le langage
l?esp? humaine m?a donn?r />mon p? et ma m?
peut-?e des fr?s on ne sait
des cousins ?ellet?
et des arri?-grands-p?s
l?esp? humaine m ?a donn?r />ses trois facult?br />le sentiment l?intelligence et la volont?r />chaque chose de fa? mod?e
l?esp? humaine m?a donn?r />trente-deux dents un c?ur un foie
d?autres visc?s et dix doigts
l?esp? humaine m?a donn?r />de quoi se dire satisfait

"The Human Species"

The human species has given me
the right to be mortal

the duty to be civilized

a conscience

2 eyes that don't always function very well

a nose in the middle of my face

2 feet 2 hands

speech

the human species has given me

my father and mother

some brothers maybe who knows

a whole mess of cousins

and some great-grandfathers

the human species has given me

its 3 faculties

feeling intellect and will

each in moderation

32 teeth 10 fingers a liver

a heart and some other viscera

the human species has given me

what I'm supposed to be satisfied with

--translated by Teo Savory ( The Random House Book of Twentieth Century French Poetry, edited by Paul Auster, 1984)

Now may be an opportune moment to mention exactly how I feel about the book above.  Go buy it!  The introduction is fantastic.  The translations were all crafted by leading literary figures of the 20th century.  The original poems are by the most impeccable French poets.  Plus the books looks tr?moderne, so people will think you are wicked smart.  That may not have been exactly how I feel, but it dances near enough to the truth.

IN THE SOUL

For yesterday�anyway it was hot and dry. I quite like those days - there's a laziness to everything and everyone. Even the light is lazy. Trees and plants seem to glisten in heat haze. And the house is full of dappled light spilled through blinds producing strong shadows across walls and couches. Everyone's doors and windows are wide open, and�I sat listening to a neighbour practise singing, warming their vocals in the early afternoon. It moved into a perfect early evening of left over warmth. The sort of evening I always imagined you should be out sailing on the harbour with. Max tucked down the side of the house and played in the cool sandpit, and Pia flitted like a butterfly from place to place, occasionally resting her hot little body on the couch or my leg. We stopped off for fruit smoothies and a play in the park coming home, Max gathered leaves along the way. Laziness. Nurturing laziness of ambling along between here and there. Just the simple passage of time.

The last few weeks have been less than idyll. Last week was an intense week of subtle intervention processes, strong and plentiful conversations with many people about handling an extremely fragile situation - and here I am today, with a sense of weight being [very] slowly lifted, like it might be solvable, and it might turn out ok. But the process to get here [and to continue for it is far from over, and forgive me but I wont say more on the blog because it involves children and my child in very personal ways] has been full of stress, sleepless nights, and worry.

In the last few days I've received a couple of comments which have upset me greatly. They weren't meant to upset, quite the opposite they were written as very compassionate comments and I understand that, appreciate it,�and I mean no harm to the people who wrote the comments, but one in particular had me in tears. I wrote my last email in exactly what the post title says - stolen time. A tiny, small moment in a long week. Pia is transitioning to no daytime sleep, but she still needs that sleep - her little body shouldn't be expected yet to go all week without a sleep to nourish it and replenish it and she doesn't yet have the skills to deal with overtiredness. I have never forced either child to sleep, if it doesn't happen, it doesn't happen, we carry on. I feel very hurt that there has been a suggestion that for me to want her to sleep when I know she is�very tired, and that I in turn may�grasp a moment to breathe, replenish my soul and do something small for myself so that I may be totally there for both children when she wakes, is somehow belittling the preciousness and shortness of their childhood. The implied suggestion that I would regret my selfish acts of Me Time - even if they only amounted to thoughts of me time - and that I should put all thought of having that time aside - is really harsh for any mother to hear. Is that what we now expect of mothers? Should we be making them feel guilty for wanting a moment to themselves - was I so wrong to want that?�I am left feeling like I have done something very, very wrong.

I�rarely have Me Time. We�very rarely�go out. We don't have family and friends to mind the children. We don't impose on other people. We don't use babysitters.�A few times a year my parents come from another city and�take the children to give us a short break, and that's it. I don't work - specifically because I wanted to be with my children during their fleeting childhood. My husband works long hours, and often works weekends�renovating the house. I don't see friends outside the children network very often. I don't do anything for me, other than pieces of sewing and knitting and I don't do that while the children are around. At the end of a long week, and a long day, to ask for some solace, half an hour to just stop.....and to hear�I should think about my children more and put my own mental and physical needs aside is incredibly upsetting after all I do, and am, for these two children. If I can't function properly, how can I be expected to function effectively for my children? I have always striven for balance in my days and weeks. Even on the worst days I find beauty around me - even if I must search and seek it out. I adore my children, and give them everything of myself, all day, every day. I cherish every single day with them. But I do not have to love every single moment with them,�or feel like I have lost their time when we have rough days and I want that day over.�I do not feel the need to hide behind the prettiness of motherhood, and nor should any mother be expected to.

Please - do not deny me, or any mother,�solace when they need it most.