Free Garden Catalogs

Can you name a very short-blooming garden flower? I'm writing a story, and I need the name of a very SHORT-blooming but BEAUTIFUL garden flower. If it requires a lot of dedication on the part of the gardener, and is kind of temperamental and/or rare, that's even better. If you can, please provide pictures of said flower, the time of year it blooms, and the climates it can grow in (I don't want my story to have any factual errors). I know nothing about botany... thanks for your expertise!!!

I have a beautiful flower in the garden and I don't know what it's called.? How can I show a picture of it? It grows like a vine, it has a red and yellow flower which spirals up towards the sky. I really want to show it but I don't know how. http://s845.photobucket.com/albums/ab19/oralette_photo/ (thanks for the tip. link now added)

Any beautiful plant/flower gardens in Houston, Tx? Hey Everyone.. This upcoming Sunday I'm doing a photo-shoot In a garden/plant setting, and I cant find any beautiful parks in Houston. I need a little help finding a good one. Because I want my pictures to be really spectacular with the scenery and all. Can someone help a girl out? Thanks~

I trying to find pictures of rock/flower center pieces to accent the front lawn? We are removing our current lawn(front yard) and we want to show a beautiful center peice, such as, a rock/flower center piece garden, with grass. The backyard will be golf turf for my husband to use for putting his golf balls.

I'm going to a beautiful garden that has thousands of flowers & was wondering which lens i should use? I have. 50mm 1:4 lens and. 28-135mm lens. Which would be better to take photos of kids in a setting like this? This is outdoors and lots of cute places to do pictures. I didnt wany to take every lens i own.

How do you solve the second flower puzzle in Virtual Villagers? I have solved 11 of the 16 puzzles in the game, but have been stuck forever on this second puzzle with the flower picture on it.I already solved the first flower one where you had to grow the beautiful garden again, but the second one has stumped me. I also have the baby, boulder, box and butterfly puzzles left to go. HELP!!!!!!!

Where is a park or nature garden in Minnesota (west metro) to take pictures of nature/flowers? My three month old daughter and I are going to have a picnic tomorrow and need to find a beautiful park. Looking for flowers, nice landscape etc. I would like to take some pictures of her there. I know of the arboretum in Chaska, but I'm looking for something a little less "structured," and a little more privacy. Any help would be great!!

What should we wear for our "engagement" pictures? My fiance and I are having a special photo shoot at a beautiful garden (lakes, flowers, etc etc) and we want a very special theme..like very natural and romantic. We both want to wear white and i want to use natural white flowers in my hair... we want the clothes to be flowy and very comfortable.. Where can we find that type of clothing? suggestions on an outfit? Thanks!

Please name a website that I can identify the flowers in my garden? I am a total novice gardener and I have just moved into a house with a beautiful garden, I am also a childminder and need to be able to identify all plants in my garden for ofsted as some plants/flowers can be hazardous to children. I need a website that will just show me pictures to identify from other than ones that ask for a name as I haven't got a clue.Please help.

Tips for taking portaits outdoors on an overcast day? Today I'm taking my 5 yr old niece to a beautiful flower garden to take some pictures. Hopefully it doesn't rain but it might. I do come across this problem often though. How to add some life to the subject and not make them look flat. Any tips other than a reflector? I'm currently sporting a sony A200 with standard lens. I know very mediocre but the economy sucks! Any tips? Thanks! Thank you everyone for all the tips! I do love my camera but when I see what I could do with it with other lenses, flashes and what not it does get a little discouraging. Awesome tips! Thank you!

Write some sentences to describe the order of what happens from the time you buy some bulbs until you have som? beautiful flowers. *There are some pictures on the worksheet I am doing First picture boy and father at garden shop Second picture Boy next to bulb (Please describe further) Third picture can and a pot. Fourth picture stem Fifth picture leaves Sixth picture flowers. (Please describe further) (Urgent)

Which is the most beautiful picture you have ever seen? Hi guys!! In your opinion, which is the most beautiful picture you have ever seen? My favourite one represents a garden full of flowers with two empty seats and I took this picture this summer in London... very touching =) CiAoOoOo

Romantic Inexpensive SoCal Getaway.. Suggestions? I'd love suggestions on great activities & amazing sight seeing spots... anywhere in SoCal. My boyfriend and I have been 3000 miles away for the past few months and I want to plan a special getaway on a budget when I get back! We will spend about a day & half, and sleep in our SUV to save money :) We love taking pictures, and want to hit up a free winery & LOVE authentic, hole in the wall, surprisingly cheap restaurants & great mountains to drive up for beautiful sight seeing & killer sunset viewing spots! To give you an example of what we like.. We went to San Diego a while back.... found an awesome sushi restaurant that was wayy good for how cheap it was. Chilled at the Wave House & watched the flow riders, and got amazing sunset pictures at the beach. Drove up La Jolla Mountain for the great sights. It kept us busy, enjoyed, and only spend $20!! So if anyone knows of a great winery that is beautiful to snap pictures and do a free tasting, and then a spot with beautiful flowers/gardens & anything from what I posted above.. I'd LOVE the suggestions....

Christians, I wonder if you would choose something here from the description below? I'd like you to choose what you would be in God's garden but please read the description so you can figure this out. You come into God's garden. On your right is a lovely herb garden full of all kinds of aromatic, healing herbs. There's an old, worn bench there to sit down and savor the scent from the garden. Straight ahead is a beautiful flower garden with border plants, climbing plants, lilacs, roses, some wild flowers and a gazebo in the centre with a path leading through the flower garden. Off to your left are fruit trees of all different fruits growing at different times. In this picture, God is the gardener. What are you in His garden? The more we discern about ourselves in these ways, the more we see about ourselves.

If you have a night wedding, do you miss out on the nice colorful pictures? I have always wondered, if you have your wedding in the evening, are you not able to take pictures in the day? For example, you book a venue with a beautiful garden, but your wedding is at night, and you don't want the groom to see you before the ceremony. How did you do it, did you take "day" pictures if you had a night wedding? and how did you work it out? If you had a night wedding, and didn't take pictures during the day, did they look nice or were they all dark? I think I will be having an evening wedding (venue availability) but I wanted to take the pictures during the day with flowers, etc, and I also didn't want my HTB to see me before the ceremony. I am feeling this is one of those cases where I can't have my cake and eat it too lol. Thanks!

Can anyone Rate my beginning to my story please? Many hours have past since the night was young and the sun has started to rise yet again. John sat still staring out the bolted window in his cluttered room. The garden that had caught his eye was just outside his own dead, dull garden. Full of beautiful flowers and trees the garden stood high upon its throne in the small town. The very essence of the town’s life belonged to it. The garden looked very out of place compared to the ‘box standard’ garden’s that surrounded it. The house itself matched the garden’s elements. It towered upon the small town folk, with its pure white walls, and god like appearance. The dark damp stone work of the surrounding houses suffocated the one sanctuary in the town. The colorless, lifeless, emotionless buildings were lurking ever so closer to that beautiful garden. Yet they stand still, in jealously they wait. On the ground lay a messy a cobblestone street. The ground had been visibly worn out from the countless hammering of the horse’s hoofs and ignorant behavior. In the distance the sun rose over the town which was surround by a thick forest or green and red. The light from the sun reflected of the damp stonework, illuminating it and giving an effect that seemed as if the cobbles were engulfed in fire. Steam oozes out the nearby houses into the air creating a sort of smog effect, something you would expect to see in a much larger town not Hoverville. From behind John, as he day dreamed out his window, echoed a voice. It was his mother. He shook the dream away, walking from the window he had left steamed by his presence. As he neared the door he stopped, looking back on his room. It was far from a dream bedroom but it was the sort of room you’d expect to see around town. To most people it was just a load of junk, but to him it was wonderful. From the burst springy mattress, to the old broken grandfather clock, it all belonged to him, something he appreciated. Giving a sort of cheerful sigh he twisted the door knob and left his room. The hall was no change of scene from his clutter filled bedroom. Half broken pictures dangled from the walls struggling to stay upon the wall. John’s mum would often defend the broken pictures by saying “some people say they’re half broken, but I say they’re half fixed.” The carpet was a light shade of brown but John had suspected it wasn’t originally brown. There were three doors to his right, one was his mother’s room, one was his sister’s room and the other was the toilet. The toilet however, had ceased to work years ago. As he approached the stairs leading down into the kitchen more half broken, half fixed pictures lay plastered to the walls. Years of family history lay still on the walls, from his great grandmother Merareida, to his Cousin Bandafell. With each step down the splintered wooden stairs, came a loud creak, eleven loud creeks.

What kind of flower is this? I saw this in an old issue of Better Homes & Gardens while waiting for the doctor. The best way that I can describe it, is that it looked like a brown stick that branched out and grew very small, yellow flowers. I thought it was beautiful, and I want to have it painted in my room, but I need to find a picture of it in order to do so. If it helps at all, a common theme in this room was Asian decor and Asian flowers. Please help! Thanks so much.

Photography? All my life, I have had a video camera, and I shoot videos all the time. Now I am 22, and just recently I picked up an interest in photography. It all started one day when I was at my moms, and she was planting flowers in her garden. I was bored, so I went inside and came across her digital camera. I started taking pictures of the beautiful flowers and now I love to! I have been filming all my life, and I want some pointers on how to start photography. Flowers and nature are my favorite things to photograph. Where do I go from here? Should I stick with filming?

What do you think about my novel? For a little while I thought, that everything was going to be ok. That it would be normal again. That mom and dad would stop fighting and screaming to each other, and we would be a happy family. I was wrong. It was one of those gloomy days. It was cloudy and grey, but the air was so thick that you could hardly breath. I took a deep breath, forcing my lungs to take that in. My grandmother and me were driving to her house. It was in Doublet. I was going to live with her ‘till mom and dad had figured out what was going to happen. But I knew the truth deep inside me. I wasn’t going back. When we arrived to my grandmother’s house, I was shocked over how beautiful her house was. “Wow,” I whispered, but loud enough for her to hear. “Isn’t she sparkling?” She said, marveled. I was marveled too. The house was light blue. Looking like a fairytale in the gloom weather. In the sweet, little garden there were beautiful flowers, everywhere. Roses, hyacinths, tulips, and few other flowers I couldn’t name. “If you love this, you’ll love your room,” Grand said, smugly. I smiled. “I can’t wait to see it!” I said, excited. When I saw my room, I was shocked. I looked at Grand first, and looked at my room. I gasped, “Grand!” I half-shrieked. She laughed quietly. My room was … amazing. I had tears in my eyes. “Oh, grand.” I murmured. “Nothing to thank me for, Vera,” she said, but I turned to her and I could see her eyes sparkling. “Thank you, so much.” I said gratefully, and hugged her. “I’ll leave you alone, honey. I’ll give you a shout when it is dinner,” she said and left my room. My. Room. My room was had a soft, light lavender color. With white furniture, it made average room looking bigger. The bed was white, and had three shelves underneath, and it had a soft, lavender colored flower bedding – matching the flower imprint on the whole bed. Beside it was a nightstand, with a pink rose in a vase. In front of it, it was a picture of me when I was younger. I was sitting on a floor, smiling happily. I smiled with my younger self. I hadn’t changed much, I realized. I still had that baby looking face. It was still small, with soft features. My almost black-brown eyes matched my brown skin. It looked a little bit darker then an olive skin tone. My black hair was long - it has always been long. It was layered, even then. I sat on my bed, looking over my entire room. It had a bookshelf on the right side of the wall. It was taller then what I probably was, but smaller then the room. It was almost empty, expect for some pictures of my grandmother and me. I looked to the left, and discovered a vanity; it was also imprinted with flowers, beautiful roses. It had a mirror behind it, big enough to reflect the big bookshelf. I looked outside my window; it had a pretty view of some mountains and a sea. I inhaled the fresh air inside my room. I went and packed out my stuff. It hadn’t been a lot from first place, so it didn’t take a long time. I placed my books on the bookshelf, and some butterfly ornaments. After that I went on my clothes, placing everything in order under the bed. Satisfied, I went down stairs, eager to spend some time with my grandmother. “Honey?” I heard grandma’s soft voice over me. “Time to wake up. It’s school, beautiful,” she said. “Okay,” I whispered groggy. She went away, as the perfect person as she is. I quickly went up out of bed. Brushed my teeth, and combed my silky hair. I put on off-white, long sleeved shirt. It was laced and underneath I had a sweet heart top. With my favorite skinny jeans, I thought I looked pretty. Nervously I put on a leather jacket and went to the first day of school. They were all very nice. Greeting me and saying hello, and I quickly found out who the jerk was and who the nice one was. The one that I thought was pretty okay: was Jay. He had a nice, tousled black hair. His style was casual, rather screaming casual then “I spent a lot of time in front of the mirror”. But he was the nicest ones. None of the girls were really … nice to me. The boys had only found me attractive, and something to flirt with. While Jay … He really cared about me. He quickly became my best and only friend. But it was one boy that really stood out. He was always alone. Even the girls let him be alone. He was very mysterious and he looked exotic. He didn’t fit in some how. Not that I really did either. I blushed of the thought. I was taking a short cut, through the woods so that I could get faster to grandma. Suddenly I heard a branch snapped. I quickly turned around, confused. “Who their?” I said, asking the stranger. “Knock, knock,” a deep voice said. I didn’t answer. I waited for the deep voice to show his face. “Aren’t you supposed to answer, my darling?” He said. His deep voice was soft. “Who’s there?” I asked with my teeth gritted. “Arnold.” He answered, and suddenly a boy, probably the same age as me jumped down from a tree. I'm only thirteen, what do you think? Be honest.

What kinds of flowers are these? I recently went to Bok Tower gardens to take pictures. I found a number of beautiful flowers, but I don't know the names of them. So what are these? Click below to look at the pictures. Thanks. http://www.flickr.com/photos/justinfogarty9/

Canadian Garden Catalogues, who's good and reliable? I am looking for a garden catalogue that I can trust , I am aware of Spring Gardens and Beckers . I have heard of McConnells but haven't had there booklet to try them... I get wary of because their pictures are all so beautiful ., yet I know full well the flowers do not bloom at the same time as they portray . New gardeners will be dissapointed when they order these picture arrangements as a grouping Has anyone any ideas of other catalogues and the experience of service they give. I'de like to find one I can trust. Thank you

Why do I want to live in a tree in the woods like Winnie The Pooh? Ever since I was 6 I've dreamt of living in the woods like Winnie The Pooh. I picture myself going fishing in a pond and sleeping under the stars and lying in the grass. I either want a tree house in the air, or a house built into a tree. And I want everyday to be Autumn. And i want there to be little chinese lanterns hanging from the trees at night. Surrounded by fireflies. And i want to have a garden with beautiful flowers and vegetables. And I want to make my own soup. And I want to play with Christopher Robin. @Milhouse..... HEY. I DO NOT HAV MENTAL DISORDERS. I AM AN HONORS STUDENT. .....and no I am not high. @ VS wait? How the fuk does that even make sense if this is my first ID? And this is really me and ..... I AM CONFUSED. I am reporting u.

Swap council 2 bed ground floor 40m private garden Cardiff for yours in Kensington? I desperately need find a swap from Cardiff to London for my mother who has recently been in intensive care and will need my help once she is out of hospital. I am living in London and she will need me to move back in with her. She needs a ground floor 2 bedroom flat. Are you interested and have what I require? See my advert and email me for pictures and viewings! My property: is a large 2 bed with a 40m private garden. The kitchen and bathroom are brand new. All other rooms are recently decorated to a high standard. The garden is big with patio, lawns, vegetable patch, flower beds and shed and it is accessed directly from the kitchen. There are no communal areas in this flat (i.e. own entrance etc) at all and it is not in a tower block or large estate. Cardiff: is a vibrant city of 350,000 that is ONLY 2 HOURS FROM LONDON and 20 minutes from both BEACH and COUNTRY. It has character and charm with museums and galleries and the castle etc and beautiful parks with lakes and lawns. The city is also full of shops, restaurants and bars. Cinema, theatres, sports and gigs are all big reasons people love it here. Being relatively small, Cardiff is a very friendly place with plenty of opportunity for socialising. It is an excellent place to make friends and an excellent place for children to grow up in. My area: My street has a big green in the middle for playing/ laying. Within a 2 minute walk are shops (newsagents, convenience, post office, takeaways etc), a good primary school and excellent transport links. There is doctor's surgery only 5 minutes away and the leisure centre is 10 minutes walking. Within 5 minutes walking are 2 supermarkets and there is a huge tesco extra within a 10 minute drive. Nearby is a park with an outdoor pool for children, and woods for climbing trees as well as a river I used to fish in (10 minute walk). Reason for moving: my mother is ill and needs to be with me in London. There is no other reason she would leave this flat and she has been in it for 21 years so it is very well looked after. I have already tried homeswapper, all home swapping websites including paid one. i have called every london borough, ive done freecycle, ive posted 10 ads on gumtree a day for the last 2 months, ive replied to people on gumtree...ive tried leaving london schemes, ive tried empty homes agencies and i have tried shelter. i am almost positive i have actually done more than this but you get the picture...

Pretty parks/gardens in Western Massachusetts? I'm looking for pretty places to take pictures at...preferrably with flowers and trees..a place to take some good wedding pictures :) So if anyone knows of a beautiful park/garden worthy of that, it would be amazing :) Anything but Stanley Park please...I've been there too many times. Not special at all.

What kind of entertainment, if any, did YOU have at your daytime wedding? We are considering a 10a-4p wedding in September. The site has a gorgeous, perfectly manicured flower garden w/gazebo and a lovely place for a reception directly next to it. It would be so beautiful to be able to see all of those flowers and color (there's a lake, too) from the huge picture windows in the reception hall so we want to do it in the daylight hours. One of my many questions is........how the heck to we provide entertainment during these hours? Will folks even care to dance? This is the only part that makes me not want a daytime affair 100%. Has anyone been to or hosted a daytime wedding where the entertainment was successful (or not)? What was done? A band......a dj.........a pianist......what?? Thank you! Oh.......and did people DANCE??? I don't want to bother people with silly music while they are not used to dancing..........

How do I harvest sunflower seeds from the sunflower to plant next year? Last year, right before they moved, our neighbors gave us some sunflower seeds to plant. They got them from sunflowers they grew in their garden. Well, we planted them, and WOW! Beautiful sunflowers grew! Tall and large blooms. They are in a vase now, and I want to get their seeds and plant more for next year. How do I get seeds from these flowers? Do I cut the big blooms, dry them somehow? I am NOT a green thumb gardener, so the more detail the better for me! Thank you in advance for your suggestions. (I wish I could post a picture, they are just beautiful!)

Do you consider photography to be an art? I hate to be controversial, but I have spent much time thinking about this. I am a painter and realism artist, who has spent every afternoon practicing and memorizing the qualities of the human face, in order to be able to draw very realistic and appealing portraits/still lifes/etc. I put thought into what my art is conveying, why I drew it, what its purpose is...etc. But here's the deal. These rich snobs (I'm in high school, soon to be in college) are purchasing the most expensive camera money can buy, then going outside on a sunny day and taking pictures of everything they see, and calling it "art" and labeling themselves as "artsy". I'm sorry, but I personally don't see much meaning in a bland picture of a flower or whatever. I'm not saying that I don't think that photography is not an art, there are some beautiful galleries out there such as "The Forgotten Holocaust" which I do find to be beautiful and meaningful. But seriously, I don't understand how taking pictures of every flower in your garden or of your dang driveway has any true meaning, Yes, art is art, but there is a point when we have to protest and say "how deeply did you think about this?". I take DAYS trying to get every shadow right and trying to fix proportions to only have my art put as second class to a photo that was taken within a click of a button. I'm young and I already have arthritis from practicing so much, yet all my work is unappreciated. I feel MOST photographers are over-hyped and the painters and realists deserve the appreciation. I know that people have different tastes, and I guess that's alright. But like how many were converted into liking Justin Bieber or some other celebrity, it certainly wouldn't be hard to persuade others to like realism and painting. Hell, even abstract art! I find it interesting. Again, not trying to start a fight. I DO like some photography, but not all. Please, I just want you all to see my point of view. Thanks!

What would be a good closing sentance for this chapter? Chapter 3 The Castle After living in the Castle, I know a lot about this place. One of the places is the Garden. It is an amazing place filled with colors. There are trees which serve fruit, and plants which serve vegetables. Before you walk in, there is a beautiful arbor with vines and flowers on it. The grass is the greenest grass you will ever see in a lifetime. There are flowers next to the arbor and two cherry trees diagonal from the arbor. When you walk in, the grass is even greener. Adaleide’s family takes good care of it. Another is the inside of the Castle. Inside there is amazing pictures. Adaleide tells me that they are her ancestors. They must have been painted by a rich man, or woman. There are also scented flowers around the castle. Some are purple, pink, yellow and my favorite, red! Those are tulips, but there are different kinds of flowers too; there are daisies, columbines and roses! Adaleide’s parent’s room is also very beautiful. There are pictures of the garden, and the forest (in its nice places.) Then there is my room, I share a room with Adaleide. It’s lots of fun though. We like to pretend we are nights fighting the evil dragon on our wall. There is a picture of a night, a princess hiding in a dark, spooky cave which we think is the dragons den. Then there is a large dragon that is on the wall, and the ceiling! He is a ferocious dragon steeling the princess, which Adaleide and I named Princess Aurora; we think that is the most beautiful name in the world, especially for a princess. Adaleide says that we are not really princesses, she just says that we live in a castle, but I believe that if you live in a castle, you are one. If that is true though, then I guess I just pretend that I am a princess even though Gracia never calls me a princess even when I ask her to. I don’t like Gracia, but she does clean this place. Over all, this is a nice place, but the bad parts about the castle, is these comments. First of all, there is a big well, and it is too deep, and the bucket is too big that I am afraid I will fall in, and the bucket is so heavy to lift. Sometimes though, I wonder what’s in there. Another thing is that Gracia always gives us too many chores and never agrees with us. Lastly, there is a big hole in the garden, and Gracia is too lazy to fill it in. She always says “I have much more important stuff to do than to fill in that large hole, so if you want it filled in so badly, how about you just do it yourselves!” What really bugs me is that she says this while reading a book next to the fireplace. She never really cares about anything. Also you can tell me some mistakes you see.

Do you like my book so far? It is my third chapter.? If you want to read the first two chapters, you can go to the same question I asked about those. Chapter 3 The Castle After living in the Castle, I know a lot about this place. One of the places is the Garden. It is an amazing place filled with colors. There are trees which serve fruit, and plants which serve vegetables. Before you walk in, there is a beautiful arbor with vines and flowers on it. The grass is the greenest grass you will ever see in a lifetime. There are flowers next to the arbor and two cherry trees diagonal from the arbor. When you walk in, the grass is even greener. Adaleide’s family takes good care of it. Another is the inside of the Castle. Inside there is amazing pictures. Adaleide tells me that they are her ancestors. They must have been painted by a rich man, or woman. There are also scented flowers around the castle. Some are purple, pink, yellow and my favorite, red! Those are tulips, but there are different kinds of flowers too; there are Daisies, Columbines and Roses! Adaleide’s parent’s room is also very beautiful. There are pictures of the garden, and the forest (in its nice places.) Then there is my room, I share a room with Adaleide. It’s lots of fun though. We like to pretend we are nights fighting the evil dragon on our wall. There is a picture of a night, a princess hiding in a dark, spooky cave which we think is the dragons den. Then there is a large dragon that is on the wall, and the ceiling! He is a ferocious dragon steeling the princess, which Adaleide and me named princess Aurora, we think that is the most beautiful name in the world, especially for a princess. Adaleide says that we are not really princesses, she just says that we live in a castle, but I believe that if you live in a castle, you are one. If that is true though, then I guess I just pretend that I am a princess even though Gracia never calls me a princess even when I ask her to. I don’t like Gracia, but she does clean this place. Over all, this is a nice place, but the bad parts about the castle, is these comments. First of all, there is a big well, and it is too deep, and the bucket is too big that I am afraid I will fall in, and the bucket is so heavy to lift. Sometimes though, I wonder what’s in there. Another thing is that Gracia always gives us too much chores and never agrees with us. Lastly, there is a big hole in the garden, and Gracia is too lazy to fill it in. She always says “I have much more important stuff to do than to fill in that large hole, so if you want it filled in so badly, how about you just do it yourselves!” What really bugs me is that she says this while reading a book next to the fire place. So those were some bad things about this place, and now you know about the Castle I live in. I figured that it would be too much to read if I put the other chapters, and this chapter was fine without the others and by the way, the 10 pts. will go to the most honest answer.

Can you edit my story? Chapter 3 An Amazing Discovery After living in the Castle, I know a lot about this place. One of the places is the Garden. It is an amazing place filled with colors. There are trees which serve fruit, and plants which serve vegetables. Before you walk in, there is a beautiful arbor with vines and flowers on it. The grass is the greenest grass you will ever see in a lifetime. There are flowers next to the arbor and two cherry trees diagonal from the arbor. When you walk in, the grass is even greener. Adaleide’s family takes good care of it. Another is the inside of the Castle. Inside there is amazing pictures. Adaleide tells me that they are her ancestors. They must have been painted by a rich man, or woman. There are also scented flowers around the castle. Some are purple, pink, yellow and my favorite, red! Those are tulips, but there are different kinds of flowers too; there are daisies, columbines and roses! Adaleide’s parent’s room is also very beautiful. There are pictures of the garden, and the forest (in its nice places.) Then there is my room, I share a room with Adaleide. It’s lots of fun though. We like to pretend we are nights fighting the evil dragon on our wall. There is a picture of a night, a princess hiding in a dark, spooky cave which we think is the dragons den. Then there is a large dragon that is on the wall, and the ceiling! He is a ferocious dragon steeling the princess, which Adaleide and I named Princess Aurora; we think that is the most beautiful name in the world, especially for a princess. Adaleide says that we are not really princesses; she just says that we live in a castle, but I believe that if you live in a castle, you are one. If that is true though, then I guess I just pretend that I am a princess even though Gracia never calls me a princess even when I ask her to. I don’t like Gracia, but she does clean this place. Over all, this is a nice place, but the bad parts about the castle, is these comments. First of all, there is a big well, it is too deep, and the bucket is too big that I am afraid I will fall in, and the bucket is so heavy to lift. Sometimes though, I wonder what’s in there. Another thing is that Gracia always gives us too many chores and never agrees with us. Lastly, there is a big hole in the garden, and Gracia is too lazy to fill it in. She always says “I have much more important stuff to do than to fill in that large hole, so if you want it filled in so badly, how about you just do it yourselves!” What really bugs me is that she says this while reading a book next to the fireplace. She never really cares about anything but her own interests. I was sitting down with Cecily playing checkers when I heard Adaleide called my name. I ran back to the front door where Adaleide was standing. “What is it?” I asked curiously. Adaleide sounded very worried. She grabbed my hand so hard that it felt like she was going to pull it off. “Come with me! I’ve found something more amazing than you’ve ever seen!” Adaleide yelled. “What? What is so important to see that you would want to interrupt my game of checkers which I was winning!” “You’ll see!” She responded, though I did not see anything that could break my chance of winning checkers with Cecily. She has always beaten me and now, the one time I am going to beat her, Adaleide interrupts! Then, I noticed that we had already reached the monstrous river. “Adaleide, we have gone too far. Gracia is going to get mad at us.” I told her. She just told me an excuse “I have gone this way before.” She grabbed a rope and swung across the river, then she handed me the rope, but I didn’t catch it, then she yelled at me for not catching. So she threw it back, and told me to catch it this time, and this time I actually caught it. The river was flowing so fast that I bet not even the fastest creature in the forest could beat it. It was a monstrous forest. I quickly jumped my feet up and flew across the river (even though I was scared to jump across it.) After that, Adaleide started running again, and even though I was a fast runner, she would always beat me. So I ran right behind her. Brushing through trees we ran through the wild forest. Next, we reached a tree line. Those trees were high, and had spikes at the bottom of the trees. Adaleide started walking beside the tree line. I was wondering what she was doing. Then we reached to a spot where a hole in the branches was hidden, and there, she went inside the tree line. She told me not to be scared, even though I wasn’t scared and I was just curious. So I went inside too, and there it was. It was unbelievable! There were trees that reached the sky, and there were the ripest apples I had ever seen. There were also colorful flowers that had the most fragrant smell. There were also other trees that were perfect for climbing- climbing trees was my most favorite thing to do in the world besides read books. I could hear a waterfall behind us. I could hear the water swis hing against rocks. I could hear the river in the distance connecting to the waterfall. I had never seen a waterfall before, so I dashed over to it quickly! Adaleide yelled for me to catch up, but I didn’t stop for a second. I was in my own world at the moment, as if I were in a book. One time I read a book where a girl had found a beautiful, magical forest. I also read she was also very beautiful too. So the forest matched the girl. “Cassandra! Adaleide caught my attention because she sounded mad! I froze so quickly, I was afraid I was going to trip. I looked over, and she was rushing, her face as red as a tomato. I could see Adaleide coming to get me and yell at me, but Adaleide has never gotten mad at me, so that would be awfully strange. Adaleide told me I was going the wrong way though and that was all. I guess Adaleide’s face was red because she was going fast. I was told to go to the west, and not the east. Me and Adaleide could tell which way was west and east because the east side had more trees. As I listened to her and stopped quickly, I saw an amazing waterfall. It flowed down to a river flowing as if it was flowing with the wind. There were not any rocks so it was easy to walk across. It was not too deep in certain places, and in those places we would walk across. Although in some places we would have to swim in to get across. We walked in the river laughing. The waterfall was amazing too. Like I said, I had never seen a waterfall before. The water was clearer than the one at the well back at the Castle for sure. I saw some fish swimming in the water. Their scales were rainbow colored, and the fish had colorful eyes too. They swam just slowly enough for me and Adaleide to catch the fishes and examine them. Their scales were slimy and felt like snakes skin only wet. Then, Adaleide started running and yelling at me to follow her. I didn’t know where she was going, or what she was doing, so I followed her. She was runn ng quicker than I had ever seen her run before, so of course I followed her. We ran for quite a while; we ran until we reached a stump where I sat down to rest. I was breathing heavily from how fast, and long we ran. I could tell Adaleide ran more than me because she was not breathing so hard when she went to rest. After resting for a while Adaleide went over to one of the trees. She put her foot on one of the branches (me having no idea what she was doing.) Then she put her other foot on a higher branch. The tree was tall, and had branches sticking out everywhere. Adaleide continued this as if she were climbing the tree. Higher and higher she went, and then when she got really high she shouted down to me, “Look at me! I am climbing this tree!” This looked like lots of fun, so I ran over to another tree and did the same thing. I got higher and higher until I reached until I got so high it made my stomach jump. “This was the most amazing forest I have ever seen,” I thought, a nd I went on climbing the rest of them. I saw another one just to the left of me and ran over to it. “Look at this one!” I yelled trying to get her to come and climb it with me. “Wow, that is a challenging tree!” She replied. I grabbed on to a large branch and pulled myself forward. Once I got up I put my feet onto another large branch but my foot slipped off leaving me hanging from the branch. I quickly put my foot onto a skinny branch but to my surprise the branch was pulled down, but not pulled off. Instead I went the way I came up and jumped down.. Once I finally got off the tree, I found a cave that had opened up right in front of me. “Adaleide,” I yelled getting her attention, “look at the cave.” I told her my legs still shaking from where I almost fell out of the tree. Adaleide went to step inside, and once she was in, all I saw of her was complete darkness. “Adaleide!” I shouted hoping she was not hurt. I heard her reply, “It’s all right! You can come in!” So, trusting her, I stepped inside the dark cave.

Help with my first chapter!!? Am I on The Right Track with this? summary:when alba kingsley travels to Scotland.she finds letters in the mansion she's staying in that were dated back in 1943.she sets off to find who wrote the letters and uncovers a lot more than she expected. Here it is:) Lovingly Yours Chapter 1. It was July 12th. I was extremely excited since I had been waiting like forever for this day to come.After months of begging,my brother, Kyle. He would finally be taking me to Scotland with him. My brother is a photographer-He gets assigned to places all around the world. And I’ve been begging him ever since he got this job. To take me with him someday. He finally agreed to. My brother doesn’t really look anything like me. He has dark hair, and I have a sort of caramel-bronze type of hair. He was named after our mom’s brother, and I was named after the place my mom grew up in:Albany,New York. Of course my last name isn’t New York. But my name is Albany Rachelle Kingsley. But I preferred to be called Alba, and I am willing to correct anyone who mistakingly calls me Albany. I was packing my bags when Kyle pulled up in the driveway. This is the first time I am going to be flying.So,for me it’s a memorable moment. “Are you ready to go? “He asked, when he got out of his car. I nodded. I wasn’t really nervous when we finally got on the plane. Just slightly stunned for some reason. After many hours of desperately waiting in the plane, we finally arrived in Edinburgh. The airport wasn’t crowded, thankfully. There was a man holding up a sign that read: Kyle Kingsley.The man drove us to the place we would be staying at.”Oh yeah,did you know that we’re staying in this mansion that’s called ‘Kingsley Manor’? “I know it’s weird. “Said Kyle. It was weird, and kind of mysterious.Kingsley Manor was quite indeed the most wonderful place you should live in. Or stay in for the time being. It had a gray trim and was made entirely of brick. There was a lady who said her name was Greta. Her appearance was quite frightening, but I’m sure she was a nice person. She was the housekeeper of the place “Ma’am could you please show us to our rooms? “Kyle asked politely. We went up a staircase that was completely covered in dark blue carpet. Greta led us to a room that had a strange look to it. The walls were painted a robin blue and the windows looked as if they hadn’t been cleaned in a long time. After a long moment of silence. Greta started to lead Kyle out of the room which was to be mine and led Kyle to his own. I put my suitcases down on the hard wood floor, and placed my duffel on the bed. I sprung into action right away starting with unpacking my things. I opened the ancient-looking drawers and put my things away in them. I found a picture of My home back in Jersey and tucked it in the side of the mirror that was connected to the drawers. My mom was probably at work—her second home. Sometimes I think it’s her only home. Since I was born she wanted nothing more than to go back to work. I was practically raised by Kyle. Who’s 26.I’m 14.There is a big age difference, but I don’t mind. My dad who was A firefighter back in Jersey was killed four years ago. I haven’t been able to really pull myself together until about a year ago. Kyle’s like a rock to me. After I was finished packing it was time for dinner. I wasn’t really hungry but it was quite good. I had no trouble sleeping that night, since the plane ride had made me drowsy. When I woke up the next day the sun was shining brightly into the windows that needed to be clean. I was planning on passing breakfast this morning. Kyle greeted me and told me that I had slept for 12 ½ hours. It was 10:00 am. He asked if I wanted to take a tour of the grounds, of course I would. There was a path that wound down to the garden which was beautiful; flowers of all sorts were in this Eden. What really added its touch was the fountain which had about 4 or 5 lily pads in it. Kyle and I threw pennies in it. After about an hour of looking around the manor. Kyle said he was headed up to town. I said I would much rather enjoy staying here. I walked back into the manor and asked Greta if it would be okay if I toured the place. “Go right ahead”. She said. I decided that I would start upstairs with the many rooms that awaited me. Nothing was interesting so far. I ran back downstairs for something that I could tidy the room with. As I trodded up the stairs to my room another room across the hall caught my attention. It was filled with boxes and in the corner of the room I saw a small chest covered in dust. I opened it not thinking. Then I found them. The letters that changed my life forever. Is it any good?I'm only 12. Could it be the next big thing? How can I improve it:)

Is This First Chapter of my Book Any Good? Am I on The Right Track with this? summary:when alba kingsley travels to Scotland.she finds letters in the mansion she's staying in that were dated back in 1943.she sets off to find who wrote the letters and uncovers a lot more than she expected. Here it is:) Lovingly Yours Chapter 1. It was July 12th. I was extremely excited since I had been waiting like forever for this day to come.After months of begging,my brother, Kyle. He would finally be taking me to Scotland with him. My brother is a photographer-He gets assigned to places all around the world. And I’ve been begging him ever since he got this job. To take me with him someday. He finally agreed to. My brother doesn’t really look anything like me. He has dark hair, and I have a sort of caramel-bronze type of hair. He was named after our mom’s brother, and I was named after the place my mom grew up in:Albany,New York. Of course my last name isn’t New York. But my name is Albany Rachelle Kingsley. But I preferred to be called Alba, and I am willing to correct anyone who mistakingly calls me Albany. I was packing my bags when Kyle pulled up in the driveway. This is the first time I am going to be flying.So,for me it’s a memorable moment. “Are you ready to go? “He asked, when he got out of his car. I nodded. I wasn’t really nervous when we finally got on the plane. Just slightly stunned for some reason. After many hours of desperately waiting in the plane, we finally arrived in Edinburgh. The airport wasn’t crowded, thankfully. There was a man holding up a sign that read: Kyle Kingsley.The man drove us to the place we would be staying at.”Oh yeah,did you know that we’re staying in this mansion that’s called ‘Kingsley Manor’? “I know it’s weird. “Said Kyle. It was weird, and kind of mysterious.Kingsley Manor was quite indeed the most wonderful place you should live in. Or stay in for the time being. It had a gray trim and was made entirely of brick. There was a lady who said her name was Greta. Her appearance was quite frightening, but I’m sure she was a nice person. She was the housekeeper of the place “Ma’am could you please show us to our rooms? “Kyle asked politely. We went up a staircase that was completely covered in dark blue carpet. Greta led us to a room that had a strange look to it. The walls were painted a robin blue and the windows looked as if they hadn’t been cleaned in a long time. After a long moment of silence. Greta started to lead Kyle out of the room which was to be mine and led Kyle to his own. I put my suitcases down on the hard wood floor, and placed my duffel on the bed. I sprung into action right away starting with unpacking my things. I opened the ancient-looking drawers and put my things away in them. I found a picture of My home back in Jersey and tucked it in the side of the mirror that was connected to the drawers. My mom was probably at work—her second home. Sometimes I think it’s her only home. Since I was born she wanted nothing more than to go back to work. I was practically raised by Kyle. Who’s 26.I’m 14.There is a big age difference, but I don’t mind. My dad who was A firefighter back in Jersey was killed four years ago. I haven’t been able to really pull myself together until about a year ago. Kyle’s like a rock to me. After I was finished packing it was time for dinner. I wasn’t really hungry but it was quite good. I had no trouble sleeping that night, since the plane ride had made me drowsy. When I woke up the next day the sun was shining brightly into the windows that needed to be clean. I was planning on passing breakfast this morning. Kyle greeted me and told me that I had slept for 12 ½ hours. It was 10:00 am. He asked if I wanted to take a tour of the grounds, of course I would. There was a path that wound down to the garden which was beautiful; flowers of all sorts were in this Eden. What really added its touch was the fountain which had about 4 or 5 lily pads in it. Kyle and I threw pennies in it. After about an hour of looking around the manor. Kyle said he was headed up to town. I said I would much rather enjoy staying here. I walked back into the manor and asked Greta if it would be okay if I toured the place. “Go right ahead”. She said. I decided that I would start upstairs with the many rooms that awaited me. Nothing was interesting so far. I ran back downstairs for something that I could tidy the room with. As I trodded up the stairs to my room another room across the hall caught my attention. It was filled with boxes and in the corner of the room I saw a small chest covered in dust. I opened it not thinking. Then I found them. The letters that changed my life forever. Is it any good?I'm only 12.

How Do You Like This Story? I have rewritten this story several times. SUMMARY DETAIL:When Alba Kingsley Travels to Scotland,she finds letters in the mansion she's staying in that were written back in 1943.She sets out to find who wrote the letters and uncovers a lot more than she expected. Please Tell Me What You Think:) Lovingly Yours Chapter 1. It was July 12th. I was extremely excited since I had been waiting like forever for this day to come.After months of begging,my brother, Kyle. He would finally be taking me to Scotland with him. My brother is a photographer-He gets assigned to places all around the world. And I’ve been begging him ever since he got this job. To take me with him someday. He finally agreed to. My brother doesn’t really look anything like me. He has dark hair, and I have a sort of caramel-bronze type of hair. He was named after our mom’s brother, and I was named after the place my mom grew up in:Albany,New York. Of course my last name isn’t New York. But my name is Albany Rachelle Kingsley. But I preferred to be called Alba, and I am willing to correct anyone who mistakingly calls me Albany. I was packing my bags when Kyle pulled up in the driveway. This is the first time I am going to be flying.So,for me it’s a memorable moment. “Are you ready to go? “He asked, when he got out of his car. I nodded. I wasn’t really nervous when we finally got on the plane. Just slightly stunned for some reason. After many hours of desperately waiting in the plane, we finally arrived in Edinburgh. The airport wasn’t crowded, thankfully. There was a man holding up a sign that read: Kyle Kingsley.The man drove us to the place we would be staying at.”Oh yeah,did you know that we’re staying in this mansion that’s called ‘Kingsley Manor’? “I know it’s weird. “Said Kyle. It was weird, and kind of mysterious.Kingsley Manor was quite indeed the most wonderful place you should live in. Or stay in for the time being. It had a gray trim and was made entirely of brick. There was a lady who said her name was Greta. Her appearance was quite frightening, but I’m sure she was a nice person. She was the housekeeper of the place “Ma’am could you please show us to our rooms? “Kyle asked politely. We went up a staircase that was completely covered in dark blue carpet. Greta led us to a room that had a strange look to it. The walls were painted a robin blue and the windows looked as if they hadn’t been cleaned in a long time. After a long moment of silence. Greta started to lead Kyle out of the room which was to be mine and led Kyle to his own. I put my suitcases down on the hard wood floor, and placed my duffel on the bed. I sprung into action right away starting with unpacking my things. I opened the ancient-looking drawers and put my things away in them. I found a picture of My home back in Jersey and tucked it in the side of the mirror that was connected to the drawers. My mom was probably at work—her second home. Sometimes I think it’s her only home. Since I was born she wanted nothing more than to go back to work. I was practically raised by Kyle. Who’s 26.I’m 14.There is a big age difference, but I don’t mind. My dad who was A firefighter back in Jersey was killed four years ago. I haven’t been able to really pull myself together until about a year ago. Kyle’s like a rock to me. After I was finished packing it was time for dinner. I wasn’t really hungry but it was quite good. I had no trouble sleeping that night, since the plane ride had made me drowsy. When I woke up the next day the sun was shining brightly into the windows that needed to be clean. I was planning on passing breakfast this morning. Kyle greeted me and told me that I had slept for 12 ½ hours. It was 10:00 am. He asked if I wanted to take a tour of the grounds, of course I would. There was a path that wound down to the garden which was beautiful; flowers of all sorts were in this Eden. What really added its touch was the fountain which had about 4 or 5 lily pads in it. Kyle and I threw pennies in it. After about an hour of looking around the manor. Kyle said he was headed up to town. I said I would much rather enjoy staying here. I walked back into the manor and asked Greta if it would be okay if I toured the place. “Go right ahead”. She said. I decided that I would start upstairs with the many rooms that awaited me. Nothing was interesting so far. I ran back downstairs for something that I could tidy the room with. As I trodded up the stairs to my room another room across the hall caught my attention. It was filled with boxes and in the corner of the room I saw a small chest covered in dust. I opened it not thinking. Then I found them. The letters that changed my life forever. please i need to know what you think

How is The First Chapter of My Story? summary:when alba kingsley travels to Scotland.she finds letters in the mansion she's staying in that were dated back in 1943.she sets off to find who wrote the letters and uncovers a lot more than she expected. Here it is:) Lovingly Yours Chapter 1. It was July 12th. I was extremely excited since I had been waiting like forever for this day to come.After months of begging,my brother, Kyle. He would finally be taking me to Scotland with him. My brother is a photographer-He gets assigned to places all around the world. And I’ve been begging him ever since he got this job. To take me with him someday. He finally agreed to. My brother doesn’t really look anything like me. He has dark hair, and I have a sort of caramel-bronze type of hair. He was named after our mom’s brother, and I was named after the place my mom grew up in:Albany,New York. Of course my last name isn’t New York. But my name is Albany Rachelle Kingsley. But I preferred to be called Alba, and I am willing to correct anyone who mistakingly calls me Albany. I was packing my bags when Kyle pulled up in the driveway. This is the first time I am going to be flying.So,for me it’s a memorable moment. “Are you ready to go? “He asked, when he got out of his car. I nodded. I wasn’t really nervous when we finally got on the plane. Just slightly stunned for some reason. After many hours of desperately waiting in the plane, we finally arrived in Edinburgh. The airport wasn’t crowded, thankfully. There was a man holding up a sign that read: Kyle Kingsley.The man drove us to the place we would be staying at.”Oh yeah,did you know that we’re staying in this mansion that’s called ‘Kingsley Manor’? “I know it’s weird. “Said Kyle. It was weird, and kind of mysterious.Kingsley Manor was quite indeed the most wonderful place you should live in. Or stay in for the time being. It had a gray trim and was made entirely of brick. There was a lady who said her name was Greta. Her appearance was quite frightening, but I’m sure she was a nice person. She was the housekeeper of the place “Ma’am could you please show us to our rooms? “Kyle asked politely. We went up a staircase that was completely covered in dark blue carpet. Greta led us to a room that had a strange look to it. The walls were painted a robin blue and the windows looked as if they hadn’t been cleaned in a long time. After a long moment of silence. Greta started to lead Kyle out of the room which was to be mine and led Kyle to his own. I put my suitcases down on the hard wood floor, and placed my duffel on the bed. I sprung into action right away starting with unpacking my things. I opened the ancient-looking drawers and put my things away in them. I found a picture of My home back in Jersey and tucked it in the side of the mirror that was connected to the drawers. My mom was probably at work—her second home. Sometimes I think it’s her only home. Since I was born she wanted nothing more than to go back to work. I was practically raised by Kyle. Who’s 26.I’m 14.There is a big age difference, but I don’t mind. My dad who was A firefighter back in Jersey was killed four years ago. I haven’t been able to really pull myself together until about a year ago. Kyle’s like a rock to me. After I was finished packing it was time for dinner. I wasn’t really hungry but it was quite good. I had no trouble sleeping that night, since the plane ride had made me drowsy. When I woke up the next day the sun was shining brightly into the windows that needed to be clean. I was planning on passing breakfast this morning. Kyle greeted me and told me that I had slept for 12 ½ hours. It was 10:00 am. He asked if I wanted to take a tour of the grounds, of course I would. There was a path that wound down to the garden which was beautiful; flowers of all sorts were in this Eden. What really added its touch was the fountain which had about 4 or 5 lily pads in it. Kyle and I threw pennies in it. After about an hour of looking around the manor. Kyle said he was headed up to town. I said I would much rather enjoy staying here. I walked back into the manor and asked Greta if it would be okay if I toured the place. “Go right ahead”. She said. I decided that I would start upstairs with the many rooms that awaited me. Nothing was interesting so far. I ran back downstairs for something that I could tidy the room with. As I trodded up the stairs to my room another room across the hall caught my attention. It was filled with boxes and in the corner of the room I saw a small chest covered in dust. I opened it not thinking. Then I found them. The letters that changed my life forever. your comments and questions are greatly appreciated:) This is just the Rough Draft.

Alternative to planting bushes in front of House? I know bushes are sometimes used because the roots absorb runoff water if a house doesn't have gutters so the water doesn't affect the foundation. We have gutters, do we really need bushes? I don't find them aesthetically appealing, they're just blocky and boring. Is there a good garden alternative? Like a hardy flower or something (I keep picturing those beautiful giant sunflowers, but I'm pretty sure they wouldn't grow here)? I know bushes are the standard, but just looking for something better--don't mind a little more maintenance. In case you know of a specific idea, we live in Georgia and the front of the house is partially blocked by trees and doesn't get that much sunlight. Any suggestions would be greatly appreciated, especially if you're familiar w/ Georgia climate and know what grows well here. Thanks! Emphasis on the "do we need them?" part. If they (or water absorbing equivalents) really are necessary for the integrity of the foundation--even with fully functioning gutters--then that's fine. Need to address the aesthetic and the practical need.

If a picture can speak 1,000 words? In your opinion, what can a beautiful "FLOWER" picked from God/Allah's own natural garden say? Thank you for you answers, I always enjoy them+

Does anyone know where I can find a specific picture of Tori Amos? It's from an interview she did with Rolling Stone called "Her Secret Garden." It's a drawing of her inside a flower, and it's really beautiful. I searched it on Google but couldn't find it. Any ideas? Thanks!! :)

Can you please identify this plant for me? I saw these beautiful flowers by the sidewalk and took a picture using my cellphone hoping that somebody could identify the plant for me so that I can buy it from our local garden store. Unfortunately, nobody could help me. The plant has beautiful bright yellow flowers although the leaves are not as pretty as the flowers. They're rough with jagged edges like some herbal plants. I hope you can help me with this. Thanks in advance! http://www.flickr.com/photos/36649454@N05/5319752274/

Are any of these words NOT taken as a url on tumblr? 1 adroit Dexterous, agile. 2 adumbrate To very gently suggest. 3 aestivate To summer, to spend the summer. 4 ailurophile A cat-lover. 5 beatific Befitting an angel or saint. 6 beleaguer To exhaust with attacks. 7 blandiloquent Beautiful and flattering. 8 caliginous Dark and misty. 9 champagne An effervescent wine. 10 chatoyant Like a cat's eye. 11 chiaroscuro The arrangement of dark and light elements in a picture. 12 cockle A heart-shaped bivalve or a garden flower. 13 colporteur A book peddlar. 14 conflate To blend together, to combine different things. 15 cynosure A focal point of admiration. 16 desuetude Disuse. 17 diaphanous Filmy. 18 diffuse Spread out, not focused or concentrated. 19 dulcet Sweet, sugary. 20 ebullient Bubbling with enthusiasm. 21 effervescent Bubbly. 22 efflorescence Flowering, the opening of buds or a bloom. 23 elixir A good potion. 24 emollient A softener. 25 encomium A spoken or written work in praise of someone. 26 ephemeral Short-lived. 27 epicure A person who enjoys fine living, especially food and drink. 28 epiphany A sudden revelation. 29 erstwhile At one time, for a time. 30 eschew To reject or avoid. 31 esculent Edible. 32 esoteric Understood only by a small group of specialists. 33 ethereal Gaseous, invisible but detectable. 34 etiolate White from no contact with light. 35 evanescent Vanishing quickly, lasting a very short time. 36 exuberant Enthusiastic, excited. 37 felicitous Pleasing. 38 fescue A variety of grass favored for pastures. 39 foudroyant Dazzling. 40 fragile Very, very delicate. 41 fugacious Running, escaping. 42 gambol To skip or leap about joyfully. 43 glamour Beauty. 44 gossamer The finest piece of thread, a spider's silk. 45 halcyon Happy, sunny, care-free. 46 hymeneal Having to do with a wedding. 47 imbricate To overlap to form a regular pattern. 48 imbroglio An altercation or complicated situation. 49 imbue To infuse, instill. 50 incipient Beginning, in an early stage. 51 ingenue A naïve young woman. 52 inglenook The place beside the fireplace. 53 inspissate To thicken. 54 inure To jade. 55 jejune Dull; childish. 56 lagniappe A gift given to a customer for their patronage. 57 lagoon A small gulf or inlet in the sea. 58 languor Listlessness, inactivity. 59 lassitude Weariness, listlessness. 60 laughter The response to something funny. 61 lilt To move musically or lively, to have a lively sound. 62 lithe Slender and flexible. 63 loquacious Talkative. 64 luxuriant Thick, lavish. 65 mellifluous Sweet-sounding. 66 missive A message or letter. 67 moiety One of two equal parts, a half. 68 mondegreen A misanalyzed phrase. 69 nebulous Foggy. 70 niveous Snowy, snow-like. 71 obsequious Fawning, subservience. 72 odalisque A concubine in a harem. 73 oeuvre A work. 74 offing That part of the sea between the horizon and the offshore. 75 onomatopoeia The creation of words by imitating sound. 76 paean A formal expression of praise. 77 palimpsest A manuscript written over one or more earlier ones. 78 panacea A complete solution for all problems. 79 panoply A complete set. 80 pastiche A mixture of art work (art or music) from various sources. 81 peccadillo A peculiarity. 82 pelagic Related to the sea or ocean. 83 penumbra A half-shadow, the edge of a shadow. 84 peregrination Wandering, travels. 85 petrichor The smell of earth after a rain. 86 plethora A great excess, overabundance. 87 porcelain A fine white clay pottery. 88 potamophilous Loving rivers. 89 propinquity A nearness, similarity, or kinship. 90 Pyrrhic Victorious despite heavy losses. 91 quintessential The ultimate, the essence of the essence. 92 redolent Sweet-smelling. 93 rhapsody A beautiful musical piece. 94 riparian Having to do with the bank of a river or other body of water. 95 ripple A small, circular wave emanating from a central point. 96 scintillate To sparkle with brilliant light. 97 sempiternal Forever and ever. 98 seraglio Housing for a harem. 99 serendipity Finding something while looking for something else. 100 surreptitious Sneaky. BONUS WORDS 101 sussurous Producing a hushing sound, like flowing water. 102 symbiosis Interdependence of two different species. 103 syzygy The direct opposition of two heavenly bodies. 104 talisman A symbolic object believed to have magical powers. 105 terpsichorean Related to dance. 106 tintinnabulation Ringing. 107 umbrageous Shady. 108 vestige A small fragment. 109 whisper Speaking without vibrating the vocal folds.

Hows the beginning of my story? It will get much clearer as the story goes on, but this is what I have so far: BEGINNING: I shivered as the wind whistled down the cold, dim street. The trees around me cast dark shadows upon the country lane, and I clutched my small case desperately, as if trying to pull myself back into reality. They had come for us. I thought of all I was leaving behind, of all that I had already left, and although I always knew it had to happen, it still didn’t seem real. I looked down and saw young Bridie playing at my feet, so young and naïve, oblivious to the fate that was set out before her. I looked into her innocent eyes, and wept. We stepped back into the shadows as the sound of footsteps drew near, and each time I held my breath. We watched as the drunken flock returned from a night down in Glengesh town, and stirred as birds flew above us freely in the cold night air. It was a while later that the sound of hooves scraping on the soft gravel could be heard, as the battered carriage pulled up before us. The sky was still dark, and I could only just make out the outline of a small figure, who helped us load our few but precious belongings into the cramped space provided. ‘An áit, grá?’ he asked, and upon my response, we trundled off into the quiet night. It was a long, hard journey and the bumps and jolts of the winding lanes shook the carriage violently. I was tired, and my eyes were heavy, but every time I closed them, it came back to me. I saw it. I heard it. I watched them as they came, tumbling the house and taking mammy, poor weak mammy. I squeezed Sean’s arm tight, fearful of what I hadn’t seen, and promising myself that I would never let go. Opening my eyes, I saw Bridie fast asleep, smiling contentedly. And the more I looked at her, the more I hated her for not caring. I finally drifted off, and when I did, I dreamt of Ireland. I dreamt of the fresh springs, the winding streams, open meadows and the life I had lived. I dreamt of the village, of the cloudless skies, blushing pink in pride, and the bitter bite of the soft morning dew, strung among the haziness of fresh pasture. My home. I pictured the cottage, and the large garden which always seemed to be enclosed in brilliant sunshine, and boasting of its beautiful flowers, blooming elegantly and gently swaying in the fragile summer’s breeze. I was so lost in my fantasies, that when I awoke, it took a while for me to notice that the carriage had stopped. Dawn was breaking and I saw that we had arrived. ‘Chuaigh sé suas an staighre’ uttered the driver, who I could now see was an elderly fellow wearing a baggy green overall and a tweed hat. We hastily pulled ourselves and Bridie from the vehicle, and Sean passed over his remaining punts, before dragging us towards the lengthening queue of a nearby standing ship. Leaving Ireland was one of the hardest things I ever had to do, and drifting out into the never-ending ocean, watching my beautiful home disappearing into the distance was unbearable, but knowing that I may never see it again broke my heart. So long Glengesh. So long Donegal. So long mammy.

Any ideas for the middle of my story? Basically, it is about a family who move from a Gaelic speaking town in Donegal, Ireland because their brother (Sean) ran away the army because their father had just died, and their mother had become to frail to work. So Sean is wanted for abandonment. This is what I have so far: BEGINNING: I shivered as the wind whistled down the cold, dim street. The trees around me cast dark shadows upon the country lane, and I clutched my small case desperately, as if trying to pull myself back into reality. They had come for us. I thought of all I was leaving behind, of all that I had already left, and although I always knew it had to happen, it still didn’t seem real. I looked down and saw young Bridie playing at my feet, so young and naïve, oblivious to the fate that was set out before her. I looked into her innocent eyes, and wept. We stepped back into the shadows as the sound of footsteps drew near, and each time I held my breath. We watched as the drunken flock returned from a night down in Glengesh town, and stirred as birds flew above us freely in the cold night air. It was a while later that the sound of hooves scraping on the soft gravel could be heard, as the battered carriage pulled up before us. The sky was still dark, and I could only just make out the outline of a small figure, who helped us load our few but precious belongings into the cramped space provided. ‘An áit, grá?’ he asked, and upon my response, we trundled off into the quiet night. It was a long, hard journey and the bumps and jolts of the winding lanes shook the carriage violently. I was tired, and my eyes were heavy, but every time I closed them, it came back to me. I saw it. I heard it. I watched them as they came, tumbling the house and taking mammy, poor weak mammy. I squeezed Sean’s arm tight, fearful of what I hadn’t seen, and promising myself that I would never let go. Opening my eyes, I saw Bridie fast asleep, smiling contentedly. And the more I looked at her, the more I hated her for not caring. I finally drifted off, and when I did, I dreamt of Ireland. I dreamt of the fresh springs, the winding streams, open meadows and the life I had lived. I dreamt of the village, of the cloudless skies, blushing pink in pride, and the bitter bite of the soft morning dew, strung among the haziness of fresh pasture. My home. I pictured the cottage, and the large garden which always seemed to be enclosed in brilliant sunshine, and boasting of its beautiful flowers, blooming elegantly and gently swaying in the fragile summer’s breeze. I was so lost in my fantasies, that when I awoke, it took a while for me to notice that the carriage had stopped. Dawn was breaking and I saw that we had arrived. ‘Chuaigh sé suas an staighre’ uttered the driver, who I could now see was an elderly fellow wearing a baggy green overall and a tweed hat. We hastily pulled ourselves and Bridie from the vehicle, and Sean passed over his remaining punts, before dragging us towards the lengthening queue of a nearby standing ship. Leaving Ireland was one of the hardest things I ever had to do, and drifting out into the never-ending ocean, watching my beautiful home disappearing into the distance was unbearable, but knowing that I may never see it again broke my heart. So long Glengesh. So long Donegal. So long mammy. END: Although things were beginning to look up, I still found home life extremely difficult. Of course, living with my great Aunt helped to improve my speaking, but I still had regular nightmares. Each night I dreamt that I was leaving mammy again. I saw her face, a terrified shadow hanging over it. I could see the terror in her eyes as she slowly drifted away from me. I tried calling out to her, but every time I opened my mouth, my English tongue grew back, wiping out all memories of any other language, and I saw my poor mammy’s distressed expression, as she faded away into the distance. It had been almost two years since I my life had changed. School was going well, and I had learnt a lot over the past few years. I even found that I was enjoying living so far away from where I considered home, although it was one of the least likely places I would have expected to be. Which was why I was so shocked when they came for us. I watched them as they tumbled our house. I watched them as they took my loved ones from me. I watched them tear my life apart once again. And once again, it broke my heart. I watched as they took my beautiful Bridie, I watched them as they seized my aunt from her home. And I watched as they took my Sean. I watched as he lay limp, unwilling to fight back, and as I watched him, I hated him. I hated him for doing this to us, and as I watched, I knew that he hated himself. I returned to Ireland many years later, I went back to the lovely county Donegal. I drank from the fresh springs, followed the winding rivers, ran through the open meadows, and lay among the hazy grassland. But I never did return to Glengesh. I often thought about it, I thought of running home, in the hope that mammy would be there waiting for me. But it had been almost twenty years since I left, and I knew that I would only ever see her in my dreams each night.

wedding photography? Does anyone know any INTERESTING and beautiful settings that you can take wedding pictures? I live in calgary, alberta...there is no beach or lake....i was thinking a garden with flowers ,and a nice park but i need some ideas...at least better ideas than mine... please help, anything would be great..wdn coming up fast eekkkk thanks

Facebook- What would you say? Ok, one of my "friends" on facebook made a post about one of her friends husbands saying this is the post: Facebook is great... but it's also entertaining. Saw an old friends picture today. She's beautiful... and so is her babygirl. BUT her husband looks like a scrawny version of spongebob square pants!!!! I swear if any of you ever see me settling, somebody slap me! LMAO! Yeah, not very nice and this girl isn't the prettiest flower in the garden either. I have a husband, who I think is very handsome and I also have a baby girl. So I couldnt help but think is she talking about me??? I wanted to post a comment but I couldnt think of anything good to say. Should I just ignore it and let her be immature afterall she doesnt even have a boyfriend. I just think it was rude alltogether no matter who she is talking about. We are all in our thirties to boot. What would you do?

Is this good? It's the beginning of a story I was thinking of.? I'm just a kid, but I like to write and I want to know how I can improve and what I should keep writing. Thanks! Emmy, half-asleep on the couch, was watching Vacation with the Howes, one of her favorite movies, on a hot summer day. If you saw her, you might wonder why she wasn’t outside with the other thirteen-year-olds, but she had her reasons. Darren (her little brother), once again, had done something he was told not to do and he was not aloud outside. Emmy’s mother was out in the garden, picking flowers and vegetables for her shop and no matter where he was, Darren had to be watched because of his habit of getting in trouble. Why can’t he just go outside with Mom? Emmy wondered. He is only five. Does she really expect him to always be a little angel? By the way, It’s way more boring picking flowers then it is to be in the house with T.V., internet access, and a 13-year-old girl, or should I say slave who has been told to play the part of a storyteller, a playmate, a chef, and more if asked by the punished monster they call a human. Her mother was taking a very long time in the garden. Emmy noticed this because her movie was almost over. Usually she didn’t have to watch Darren that long because her mother didn’t take very long in the garden. She was fast with her hands just like her daughter and watering plants, harvesting plants, and giving plants Nutral, a natural liquid with nutrients that she made herself and sold in her shop as well would only take her half an hour at the most, even with her humongous garden that took up most of the gigantic yard. Emmy decided that everything was just fine and she waited for a song to finish the movie. Emmy heard a loud cry. Darren was running outside, as his mother told him not to do, when he knocked something over. The door slammed and Emmy jumped up. It became very hot and all that she could see was red and orange. Emmy couldn’t move, and even if she could, flames were surrounding her on all sides, so she wouldn’t be able to get out. Al Emmy could think was, "I’m gonna die, I’m gonna die." By the time any help came, she would be long gone. The fire was closing in on her but she felt paralyzed by the burns she already had. But she had to get out somehow. She had to defeat her burns. She had to defeat death. Ray-er! Ray-er! Ray-er! No sound could have been more welcoming to Emmy’s ears. The sirens of the fire trucks gave her the strength to roll to the center of the opening, to give the firefighters the most time possible to save her. Emmy felt great pain when her burns rubbed against the soon-to-be burned rug. She smelt smoke, ashes, and her own sweat, but something strange was happening- even as she saw the fire burning, felt her face sweating, the smell was dimming. Emmy could only see flames, ready to eat her up, and then a helmeted face, and then nothing. The book would be mainly about her trying to get back to a normal life with her burns and loss of one of her senses (haven't decided which, yet) Or i this a better plot: After that chilly day of February 29th 2004, my father would never be able to see again. My sister would never be able to hear again. My brother would never be able to walk again. My mother would never be able to live again. And none of us would ever be able to be the same again. And all this because the roads were a little too icy, a little too rough. Because the guardrails were a little too rickety, and the driver behind us was a little too drunk. All this because our fates were a little too close, and none of us could stop it. One year later, on March 1st, I was sitting in my room, crying over a picture of Mom, beautiful and radiant, ready to see her. I took out the sharp knife and held it to my throat. Angie opened the door and ran to me. Before she got to me, I cut my throat, the knife going through me like it would through soft butter, and it was over. “Mom, you look fine, just go! We’re going to be late!” I screamed up the stairs three years later. I would have been seventeen three days ago, but I was still in the body of a fourteen year-old, with the mind of a fourteen year-old, only wiser, knowing what a mistake I made those three years ago. Not to say that I didn’t like living with Mom in Limbo, but I missed life and I knew I would have eventually gotten to see her. If it weren’t for me, Mom would already be in heaven. You see, Limbo is the place where everybody goes and has a meeting with God and Satan, and they decide where you go. Mom had to wait for her meeting with God, and she had finally gotten it half a year ago. He had thought she was a wonderful person and said that he couldn’t wait for her arrival. She told him she had a daughter who had killed herself. Suicide was a sin, God said, but Mom said that she wouldn’t go without her. God understood but did not like to let people who had committed 3rd degree sins in their lives, and suicide was one of t :) Thanks! I was thinking the second was a little more interesting, too, but I wasn't sure. them. Today was my meeting with God, and if he decided against us coming to heaven, we would have a meeting with Satan, and if our meeting didn’t go well, we would be stuck in Limbo for five more years before we had another meeting with God. We ran out the door of our house, a small home with a white picket fence and black shutters. I would have enjoyed living in a house like that on Earth, but I just wanted to get on with my life (or death) now and be where I was going to be for the rest of eternity (that is, unless I ask for another meeting and wait five years in Heaven or H-E-L-L). We walked to the center building, a huge chapel where the meetings with God were placed and next to it, a regular building where the meetings with Satan were placed. We sat down in the front aisle behind a dozen other people. The door to the meeting room swung open and the first person in line smiled and walked towards it. The door slammed closed when he was completely in. One down, eleven to go. A About five minutes later, the door swung open again. The second person quickly stood up, straightened his back, and walked to the door determinately. After about two minutes, he came back out again, slumped shoulders and eyes looking to the ground. “Mom,” I asked, “Why did the first man not come out but the second did?” My mom looked at me seriously. “The first man went to Heaven.” She said. Now the third person, a brunette woman of about thirty, was in for about thirty seconds when the door opened again, and the woman gone. Three more people went, the results various, when a blond little girl, maybe six-years-old, walked to the door alone. I watched the door for ten minutes until it swung open again. The little girl walked out. She was not going to Heaven. If God didn’t have mercy on this little girl who had died so young, why would he have any mercy on me, a 14-year-old sinner, a girl who had offended God? I tried to ignore my thoughts, but I couldn’t help but be nervous. I didn’t want to have to meet Satan, and I didn’t want to have to go to a place that I felt bad about even saying. H-E double hockey sticks is not the place for me. Finally, it was going to be mine and my mother’s turn next. I crossed my finger and soon got up. We walked into the room I had been fearing and the door swung closed with a snap. “So, this is Kathleen and Shea Halings? Well, normally I don’t even accept anyone who has committed a second or third degree sin, so you consider yourself lucky.” I starred at the majestic figure towering above me. His face glowed with such wonder and hope that I was stupefied. The breathtaking sight of Him (or Her, because God kept changing His or Her appearance so that I could see each only evanescently) made me stutter as I spoke. “Y-yes, God, I feel extremely lucky.” God bent over and closer to me and said, “Good girl. Now, you committed a third-degree, eh? So why should you go to Heaven?” I felt myself shaking. Sorry, I just realized it was cut off from where I wanted it to be.

Teenage Poet. Critique? only constructive please? These are Poems I wrote, I know that not all of them are as good as others, but i really want to know how I am doing for a young teenage Poet. tell me your favorite or some criticism or something that is hepful /Paranoia/ Shadows Little ghosts crawling on the walls Humanoid reflections waiting to feed A muffled whisper, a faint trickle of chills on your spine Yet you are all alone The reaper is ready to pull you into hell The darkness dragging you in with a afresh wave of repulsion And the cool fingers of death leaving a metalic taste in your mouth Moonlight, your only savior The one to bring you back But not without the shuddering fear Soon a flood of insecurity sends you crawling back to the poison The shadows make any haven a sodom /The Essence of Acacia/ A single sweep across the skin, alluring. She loves you A tear slips free; a warning of despair She hates you The tender caress you know all to well She owns you Looking down to see hell freeze for her She follows you The single sigh filling all that is there She creates you Every ploy steals away your very breath She destroys you The end is scarlett dreams, without her She is everything /Moonlight Escape/ Sit Stare Swing Back and forth Swaying trees and twisted ground The warped veiw much more enchanting than reality The moon is out and no one is around No one knows you are here A simple mystery, one only discovered if they wake A nimble leap and your down Back to the picture perfect night Leaving the swing spinning behind you Your headed back home, to light of emptiness /A Realm of it's Own/ A garden grows Life evolves The flowers bloom And butterflys float from their cacoon The fountains of water The rain streaking color Live and beautiful, the garden is still A realm of it's own The pretty little place /The End/ So far away Leaning into the depths, she knew not what was going on But the intention was clear It felt like release but would only end in captivity The disorientation soon led to oblivion Pure ecstasy Relief The footsteps came The door opened A world was destroyed Tears mixed with blood /Worth of Life/ Entwining vines made of silver Leaves and stems purely of gold The platinum grass And jade dragon flies Crystal water flows through fountains Marble bees collect amethysts for food With a world so full of life Why are the gems more precious? /Dreamland/ Intoxicating feeling Fluttering lids Colors start shaking Forming a better land Wings sprouted Paths of shine Its all here It's all here in dreamland /Purge/ Blood boiling Stomach churning Cities crawling along the road Pushing outward until it bursts Soon the center dies and only expansions survive But nothing is left inside is undecided It's going to be over and empty /Devestation/ Spiraling steam Watching eyes Lovely decay Sleeping beauties Deathly hollows Withered roses And willows Knoted, twisted, Hunched over, Weeping. /Drown/ Bruises and blushes Flushed and unconcious The water seeps through more than just clothes As waves press down She sheds tears that whisper to the heart The ocean sweeps them up; we are def to death /Is This Insanity?/ Bodies lower themselves into graves As the sun feeds on the earth The fossils break open revealing walking skeletons Swimming through the clock Leaves bloom releasing fresh vines The stairs climb eachother And trees leap off cliffs Is this insanity? The blue jay glides in the breeze A fish flicks it fins through waves The clouds slowly roll on The sun sets in the west A mirror reflects all that it sees The grass grows higher everyday And the man eats his dinner in the evening Isn't this the perfect façade? Lifeless bodies are found everywhere Self mutilation has it's own rehabilitations centers We drop bombs because of divergent veiws Throwing up is the new diet Simple pleasures don't exist Parents kill there children before birth And homophobia is modern time racism Is this what we want? /The Worst Day/ The cold hearts are everywhere We see what we want A personal cliché leaves us closed We are one We are here We are dead We are not what we are expected to be Cold hearts Everyone sees it No one comprehends It's all there Put the past into the future Let it all go back to the end /We are Here/ The cool drops of endless rain spattering against the glass A rythmic fright that all know A simple starter of a horror story But do they realize, while fantasizing in the night They are waitin for you to sleep The drops are their pounding hearts Dead to us They feed They feel They wait They see You have a limit As they tear the flesh and break bones Your cry means nothing They can't hear you Simple joy Easy fun Merciless to all of their prey They will get you Seize the breaths your lungs hold Puddles of blood Warm and comforting Sinking into the famili Not all poems rhyme.... I'm suprised people don't know that....... actually most poems don't rhyme. Especially if they are Free Verse like mine

Dream interpretation please? - shortened! The 1st dream was me and my best friend in a garden and we were taking pictures of our ex-school friends on horses, and after 3 seconds they were on a race, having fun on horses going extremely fast, whilst me and my best friend were left behind with the wind blowing in our hair and trying to run up to them - which we didnt of course, so we decided to walk up to the finish line [which we had no idea where it was...and while we were still walking to the finish line, the dream ended] the 2nd. I was in rags walking on a dusty road which was an entering into a huge green and flowery place like a forest - beautiful, and as i was walking on this little bit of dusty road, i was looking down and saw a 1 cent coin, then i saw another one, which was an old 1 cent coin that doesn't exist anymore, and another 1 cent coin of our present money. i had walked into the garden and it was beautiful but i was scared/worried in the same time. then the scene changes and i hear someone recalling a story..and the person says "now that's the present...let's go back to the past..." and suddenly i see a very old woman in an ugly house [which i lived in] and people trying to dress her with rags [because she was weak.] then the scene changed, and i saw a 30/40 yr old woman sleeping on a bed and somehow i knew it was me. then under my bed, was another bed, and it was a man i do not know of. under his bed was the very old woman. [it was like 3 levelled bunk bed]. The scene changed again, and me and the old woman are back onto that dusty road, but with a baby each in our hands. somehow i knew it was my own and i wanted to protect it. the money was still there. the forest had no flowers this time but was still very green. we were entering the forest when suddenly we felt that native Americans were going to attack us when suddenly a wild pig started chasing me, i ran for my life with my baby in my hands but the old woman called to it and let it chase her with her baby in her hands too. i was amazed by this woman's courage but was terrified so i kept running. that dream ended. i've had the first dream for 3 times , not after each other but like i had the first one 8 months ago, the 2nd three months ago, and now.

Spiritually Speaking: Have you ever seen or smelt The Devil's Tongue before? The Devil's Tongue Flower's pungent smell of rotting flesh The Dominion Post Last updated 08:22 27/09/2010 Putting up with the stench of rotting flesh is a small price to see a rare flowering Devil's Tongue at Wellington's Botanic Gardens. The metre-high flower is blooming for the first time in a decade at the garden's Begonia House and was attracting a lot of attention during the Spring Festival yesterday. Botanic Gardens visiting services officer Charmaine Scott, who owns the plant, said many visitors to the glasshouse stopped to admire the deep maroon, velvet-like flower. But the scent of carrion in the air was drawing grizzles from some. "My husband's really, really pleased I've donated it to the botanic garden for a couple of weeks because it stinks," Ms Scott said. "It just smells disgusting, it's pure dead hedgehog, honestly. "But it's a rare and special plant in this country. If you wait that long for something to flower . . . it's such a special thing." The Devil's Tongue, or Amorphophallus konjac, is native to Southeast Asia and releases the carrion scent to attract flies for pollination. It belongs to the arum family and is related to the Indonesian titan arum, which has a flower that is more than three metres tall - the biggest in the world. Ms Scott, who recalls guests fleeing her home for the day when another of her Devil's Tongues flowered about 11 years ago, said the plant was beautiful. "It's so gothic. It would sit comfortably in a vampire's house." The flower has been in bloom for two days and is only expected to last one more day. Source with picture: http://www.stuff.co.nz/national/4169766/Flowers-pungent-smell-of-rotting-flesh LOL @ gothic comment. (((*Erin))) LOL no joke at all, they have another kind in South Africa as well.

Dream interpretation please? This night I dreamt around 3 dreams. The 1st was me and my best friend in a garden-like area and suddenly we had camera's and were taking pictures of our ex-school friend on horses, and after 3 seconds they were on a race, all having fun on horses going extremely fast, whilst me and my best friend were left behind with the wind blowing in our hair and trying to run up to them - which we didnt of course, so we decided to walk up to the finish line [which we had no idea where it was...and while we were still walking to the finish line, the dream ended] the 2nd. All i remember was myself in rags walking on a dusty road which was an entering into a huge green and flowery place like a forest - beautiful, and as i was walking on this little bit of dusty road, i was looking down and saw a 1 cent coin, then i saw another one, which was a 1 cent coin from the money which finished in our country, and then another 1 cent coin of our present money. i had walked into the garden and it was beautiful but i was scared/worried in the same time. then the scene changes and i hear someone recalling a story..and the person says "now that's the present...let's go back to the past..." and suddenly i see a very old woman in an ugly house [which i lived in] and people trying to dress her with rags [because she was weak.] then the scene changed, and i saw a 30/40 yr old woman sleeping on a bed and somehow i knew it was me. then under my bed, was another bed, and it was a man i do not know of. under his bed was the very old woman. [it was like 3 levelled bunk bed]. The scene changed again, and me and the old woman are back onto that dusty road, but with a baby each in our hands. somehow i knew it was my own and i wanted to protect it. the money was in the exact same place and i did not pick it up. the forest has no flowers this time but was still very green. we were entering the forest when suddenly we felt that native american's were going to attack us. so the very old woman ran in the middle of the forest and a wild animal started chasing her, i managed to get half way when suddenly a wild pig started chasing me, i ran for my life with my baby in my hands but the old woman called it and let it chase her with her baby in her hands too. i was amazed by this woman's courage but was terrified so i kept running. that dream ended. the 3rd dream was i was asleep but looked like catherine zeta jones and the scene changed and i was standing outside looking at a billboard/advertisement on tv, and i saw catherine zeta jones and suddenly she stripped and she was advertising her bum?? and so i looked at mine to see if it was like hers, obviously it was, cos i was her.

Trying to find a book from childhood.? Does anyone remember a picture book that was about an old man who loved his garden. For some reason, I remember him BECOMING the garden...like little flowers started growing on his skin. I think the mans name was Percy. It had such beautiful drawings... I've been trying to find it for ages; no one seems to know anything about it. Anyone remember it?

what do you think of my style? i have just wrote this off the top of my head and i wondered what you thought of my style. bare in mind that its jsut this second been written please dont be too harsh ------------------- “Fee!” he called as I ran towards him and flung my arms around his neck. He picked me up gently and spun me around before placing me back on the ground and pulling my face towards him, kissing my lips softly. Tristan tucked one of my soft blonde curls behind my ear and I gazed into his beautiful brown eyes. He smiled lovingly at me and stroked my pale face with his finger. “I love you,” I whispered, the soft moonlight gazing down on our secret meeting. His smiled dropped from his face and her averted his gaze from my face. “You shouldn’t,” he replied. I sighed in frustration and pulled him under the nearest tree paranoid that my father would find us. “Why not?” I demanded stamping my foot like a child. “You,” he started just happen to be the daughter of one of the most powerful men in the country and I am just your gardener.” “I have told you a million times I DON’T CARE! You could be living on the streets for all I care I want you. I would love you if you were the richest man on the planet or the poorest, I have told you that.” “Opheila, you are sixteen I am twenty-one!” “Ugh, Tristan please, we have been through this, please don’t make tonight about this. I love you and that’s all that matters.” The smile crept back onto his face and he pulled me closer to him and I buried my head into his chest. “I love you too,” he whispered kissing my hair. We walked among the gardens until we found our spot. A small bunch of trees by the stream. Hidden from view, where no one would think to look for us. My white dress trailed along the floor as I held Tristan hand tightly scared to let go. I gazed at his dark hair and his tanned skin until I felt like his image was etched in the inside of my eyelids. I would never tier of looking at him. Ever since that day when I was on the brink of fifteen and I first saw him in our large garden I knew…I knew that I would love him. Of course I did not come to love him until much later when we stole the hours of the night to escape from my overbearing father and rather erratic mother. Tristan was perfect and he loved me, that’s all I care about and all I will ever need. As I sat myself down in the lilacs and the daises, Tristan took out his sketchbook. I smiled at him as I let the band out of my golden hair and it fell down my back to my waist. He picked a flower from the grass and placed it in my hair before he began to finish his drawing. “Tristian?” I started. “Yes?” he replied, glancing up from his paper but looking straight back down again and adding a few more lines. “The offers still open.” “You are not going to talk to your father,” he stated. “Please, we need a new artist, our old one retired and dad wants a new portrait of Emilia and I. “Isn’t your sister against being drawn?” he asked. “She says so but I believe that she enjoys to draw herself, I snuck into her room the other night and found a number of pictures of her.” He smiled and placed the book on the ground before crawling over to me and kissing me gently, placing his hands either side of me. I lay back onto the grass but he rolled over and lay next to me. I turned on my side and leant my forehead against his. The fresh garden scent still hung around him and I breathed it in savouring the moment. “Do you have to go?” he asked as I fingered a lock of his hair. I nodded once but the tears sprang to my eyes immediately. I sat up instantly. “My father is making us, you know I don’t want to leave you.” He sat up and hugged his arms around my waist resting his chin in my shoulder. I twisted my head to the side so I saw part of his face. “What if you meet someone there and decide I am not good enough?” he asked. “That will never happen. I touched my hand to his face and was immediately jerked out of reality. [“Good morning Miss Opheila,” cried a young gentleman who stood in front of me with a single Cali lily in his hand. My favourite. He unnecessarily bowed and handed the flower to me. “Thank you.” I giggled and blushed. “My pleasure,” he said leaning forward and kissing me on the cheek.] I snapped back instantly but Tristan had noticed my absence of mind. “What did you see?” he asked slightly worried. “Oh nothing just that mother is going to forget something, I’ll make sure I pack it personally.” I glanced away from him, worried he would figure out what I was hiding. ----------------- the bit in brackets is supposed to be in italics (its her seeing the future) xxx

what do you think of my style (i posted this yday but i hvnt changed it since)? i have just wrote this off the top of my head and i wondered what you thought of my style. bare in mind that its jsut this second been written please dont be too harsh ------------------- “Fee!” he called as I ran towards him and flung my arms around his neck. He picked me up gently and spun me around before placing me back on the ground and pulling my face towards him, kissing my lips softly. Tristan tucked one of my soft blonde curls behind my ear and I gazed into his beautiful brown eyes. He smiled lovingly at me and stroked my pale face with his finger. “I love you,” I whispered, the soft moonlight gazing down on our secret meeting. His smiled dropped from his face and her averted his gaze from my face. “You shouldn’t,” he replied. I sighed in frustration and pulled him under the nearest tree paranoid that my father would find us. “Why not?” I demanded stamping my foot like a child. “You,” he started just happen to be the daughter of one of the most powerful men in the country and I am just your gardener.” “I have told you a million times I DON’T CARE! You could be living on the streets for all I care I want you. I would love you if you were the richest man on the planet or the poorest, I have told you that.” “Opheila, you are sixteen I am twenty-one!” “Ugh, Tristan please, we have been through this, please don’t make tonight about this. I love you and that’s all that matters.” The smile crept back onto his face and he pulled me closer to him and I buried my head into his chest. “I love you too,” he whispered kissing my hair. We walked among the gardens until we found our spot. A small bunch of trees by the stream. Hidden from view, where no one would think to look for us. My white dress trailed along the floor as I held Tristan hand tightly scared to let go. I gazed at his dark hair and his tanned skin until I felt like his image was etched in the inside of my eyelids. I would never tier of looking at him. Ever since that day when I was on the brink of fifteen and I first saw him in our large garden I knew…I knew that I would love him. Of course I did not come to love him until much later when we stole the hours of the night to escape from my overbearing father and rather erratic mother. Tristan was perfect and he loved me, that’s all I care about and all I will ever need. As I sat myself down in the lilacs and the daises, Tristan took out his sketchbook. I smiled at him as I let the band out of my golden hair and it fell down my back to my waist. He picked a flower from the grass and placed it in my hair before he began to finish his drawing. “Tristian?” I started. “Yes?” he replied, glancing up from his paper but looking straight back down again and adding a few more lines. “The offers still open.” “You are not going to talk to your father,” he stated. “Please, we need a new artist, our old one retired and dad wants a new portrait of Emilia and I. “Isn’t your sister against being drawn?” he asked. “She says so but I believe that she enjoys to draw herself, I snuck into her room the other night and found a number of pictures of her.” He smiled and placed the book on the ground before crawling over to me and kissing me gently, placing his hands either side of me. I lay back onto the grass but he rolled over and lay next to me. I turned on my side and leant my forehead against his. The fresh garden scent still hung around him and I breathed it in savouring the moment. “Do you have to go?” he asked as I fingered a lock of his hair. I nodded once but the tears sprang to my eyes immediately. I sat up instantly. “My father is making us, you know I don’t want to leave you.” He sat up and hugged his arms around my waist resting his chin in my shoulder. I twisted my head to the side so I saw part of his face. “What if you meet someone there and decide I am not good enough?” he asked. “That will never happen. I touched my hand to his face and was immediately jerked out of reality. [“Good morning Miss Opheila,” cried a young gentleman who stood in front of me with a single Cali lily in his hand. My favourite. He unnecessarily bowed and handed the flower to me. “Thank you.” I giggled and blushed. “My pleasure,” he said leaning forward and kissing me on the cheek.] I snapped back instantly but Tristan had noticed my absence of mind. “What did you see?” he asked slightly worried. “Oh nothing just that mother is going to forget something, I’ll make sure I pack it personally.” I glanced away from him, worried he would figure out what I was hiding. ----------------- the bit in brackets is supposed to be in italics (its her seeing the future) xxx

Please help me need help.? My husband and I are moving into our first house. I am looking to make the front beautiful with various types of flowers. I can not find any pictures of just everyday people and their gardens. Does anyone know of any good books or magazines or even websites that show pictures of how people decorated their front yards? Please let me know. Thanks True for the title didn't realize I didn't complete what i was saying. I am barely getting into gardening and its something I want to get more into, so I would like to get some high maintenance plants. I would like to get roses, but don't know if those would be considered high maintenance.

can you edit my letter? please? Dear Mom and Dad, I am having a great time in Florida. The state is so beautiful, and the people are so friendly and nice. The weather is really hot, sunny, and dry here. I hope you are having good weather back home. Last week, I visited the Walt Disney World Resort and Universal Studios. When I first arrived at the Magic Kingdom, I saw that Mickey and Minnie Mouse were waiting for us. We were so excited to see them. I got my picture taken with them, too. After that, I walked around the theme park and saw many Disney characters. In the Magic Kingdom, there's a parade at 3:00 p.m. every day. The parade is huge, and I saw many different characters. They were so nice and friendly. Then, I went to the Epcot. At Epcot, it is so beautiful with all the flowers and plants and the butterfly garden. The character plants are really neat too. I did not spend much time at Epcot and would have preferred longer, actually. There are not many rides at Epcot, but there are some attractions definitely worth visiting. I stayed at the front of the park and did not visit all the countries. The Nemo ride is cute, and the Crush interactive experience is phenomenal. The Soarin’ is awesome and fun, The Soarin’ is a hang glider in which you soar over various land marks across a country. It is not what I expected. I loved it. MGM Studios is awesome! It brings the movies to life in a unique and entertaining way. It's a theme park great for all ages. The Magic of Disney Animation is a great theater to go to again and again and same thing with the Muppet Vision 3-D. A classic favorite is the Great Move Ride. Most shows are good. There are some shows for kids and then there's action shows for adults. The park is the smallest out of the four Disney theme parks but there are still many attractions to go to. One ride that needs to be redone in my opinion is the studio back lot tour. They should show you the sets of movies. They only show you props. Star Tours is ok because it’s an old ride. I don't see why people complain about there being not enough rides. Hollywood is mostly about movies and live entertainment. This is a park you want to stay at the whole day. It will definitely keep you coming back over and over again. Out of the four Disney theme parks, I'd have to say it’s the second best overall. It is right under the Magic Kingdom. The only thing I don't like is how much the food and the drinks cost, but they taste good. At Universal Studios, it is nice and clean. I enjoyed it so much there. I did a lot of shopping on International Drive and bought some souvenirs for the two of you. I hope you will like them. I am enjoying my vacation, so you both don't have to worry about me. I will see you soon. I hope you are having a good time too. Bye for now. Hugs and Kisses, Julie Loc

wedding flowers help? Has anyone else found it difficult choosing flowers? I just think so many are beautiful. I want roses to be the main flower consistently through the day to stick with the classic and romantic feel the day seems to be set up for. My centrepieces are going to simple bouquets of roses http://www.arenaflowers.com/files/Image/arenaflowers.com/bespoke/weddings/bouquets/bridal_bouquets/weddings-peach-roses-bridal-bouquet-lg.jpg except the table numbers will be attached and a large gold ribbon will be around the vase The color scheme we are working with is gold, ivory with accents of pinks/peaches The ceremony is in a garden and our arbor is covered with greenery and we will have peach and ivory roses around it as well For my bouquet I was thinking of something like the picture that is the fourth down on the left http://www.flowersbyjoanneatlanta.com/Bouquets.html I like how the Calla lilies look around the peach and ivory roses. For those who are better at envisioning flowers what else would look good with peach and ivory roses? I have spent a lot of time on google images and wouldn't mind seeing more options. I don't want to settle if you know what I mean I am debating if I want the bm's carry a single rose or a mini bouquet or wear a corsage, and the gm's and grooms boutonnieres will be roses Suggestions are welcome and if you would like to share any stories about picking out your wedding flowers please do so I have never watched the Bachelor, as for timing we have approximately 4 months, we know our florist though and she will make sure we have everything when we need it and let me know when she needs decisions

A hippie/nature themed wedding?!? We're going to get married by church on sept 19 and we already have the church and place paid but everything is so formal and I feel like it's not me. I love animals and nature, i care for the environment and I 'm vegetarian. I was thinking that it would be cool to rent a garden (i know of a beautiful one) and have the civil ceremony a week before. Here's what I was thinking *Everybody dresses in white/loose clothing, preferably 60's style. *We don't rent chair, we use big mats.. (beautiful of course) *Get a lady to play the guitar and sing *We all have flowers and other things.. (ideas?? please!?) We have the ceremony (2hrs), take pictures and then we go to my house or my uncles house for dinner. http://www.condenast.co.uk/imagelib/320x480/a_c/Brides_JPackham2008_7_BB.jpg This is the style that i want for my dress. How should my fiance dress? Ideas for the invitation!? Food??? THANKS! I SAID FOR THE CIVIL CEREMONY THE ACTUAL WEDDING IS A WEEK AFTER THAT! DUHHH In our "traditions" we have the civil ceremony a before the actual wedding. The civil ceremony is usually a very informal celebration to get to know the family and prepare for the religious ceremony. Very few people are invitated to the civil ceremony (15-30) and if you want you can have both celebrations at the same time.

For Indians (and desis and the diaspora, if you wish): To you, what is a comfortable Indian house? Without even thinking of how much it might cost, just let your wishes control your dreams What things make it especially Indian .... not just the building itself, but the interiors also ... Is there a front lawn? What does the entrance door look like and the entrance hall itself? Any pictures of God? Others? And the living room? a dining room, too? Do you want one, two, or three bedrooms ... and one on the ground floor? Where are the bathrooms (and how many?) And the kitchen: what should that be like ... Puja? Store room? Is there a back court with a garden? A little pool with water .... and beautiful plants around it? A mango tree or two? Play yard? Flowers? A veranda? Do you have any extra buildings on the property? Maybe a guest house? What sort of colors, designs, furniture, light come into your house? Comfortable for guests? Do you like any Vaastu Shastra plans: having a back door opposite the front door? Anything else?

Is this short enough? I do love the old English Cottage. Mary stood at the front gate, which opened onto a crazy paved pathway leading to the front door of the little thatched cottage. She let her eyes follow the path and noticed the Periwinkle and Catnip growing in between the cracks of the paving. Both gave off a heady scent when trodden on, but Mary felt that the little plants never deserved such rough treatment just so that someone could smell their perfume. Even as a child she never ever trod on them but hop scotched her way to the front door. She let her eyes wonder over the cottage garden. "Spring seems to bring out the best in the flowers," she said to herself. "Even better that the summer months". Pansies, Holly Hock, Sweet Scented Stock and the blue of Cornflower plants were all out in profusion, giving the garden and cottage a picture book look. "It really is a pretty cottage" she thought "I shall miss it when I leave but John has to be in Africa ready to start his new job next month". John and Mary had lived in the cottage for six years after he came out of the army with a good pension, which had enabled them to buy the cottage. He had taken up his old job as an architect with a local firm in the town of Tadcaster. Previously they had been posted wherever the army had sent them. John had been a Major in the R.A.S.C over seeing the construction of new military buildings and bridges. Mary had been content with her life but was pleased when he retired and they had bought the cottage. John was the sort of man that got on with all he met and was soon accepted by the local villagers. It was different with Mary, she had always been a quiet person, much preferring to go out into the countryside and paint whatever scene took her fancy, but butterflies seemed to favour her desire to paint, and the cottage walls were festooned with her paintings of the delicate creatures. Mary walked up the pathway, unlocked the Dutch door, which some previous owner of the cottage had decided to put in, and walked into the familiar living room with its domesticity enfolding her. On impulse she went upstairs where she had her room in which she finished her paintings. She took a small easel and a case of sketching pencils and canvas from the table near the large north-facing window, made her way downstairs and out into the garden, along the path and out into the field that lay on the other side of the lane. Setting up her easel she looked at the cottage "How many times have I painted you" She said with affection. "One last time, just once more". She took out her sketching pencil and began to draw the fine lines on the canvas. It took Mary a week to finish the painting. John had concluded all of his work he was contracted to do, now he and Mary could spend some time together before they made the move to Africa. The cottage had been sold to a nice elderly couple who "Needed some fresh air in their lungs" the new owners has said. They were happy to let Mary and John stay on until it was time for them to leave. "How are you coming along with your painting?" as john one morning at breakfast. "It's finished," said Mary. "May I see it?" asked her husband. Mary took the painting from behind the chair where she had put it to show John later. He looked at it "Its beautiful, your best ever of the cottage, but you have left the For Sale Vacant Possession sign in the painting" "Not quite " she said "Look closer" he did and saw that the sign now read Butterfly Cottage. He smiled "Perfect" he said.

Would you be kind enough to accept this ? I do love the old English Cottage. Mary stood at the front gate, which opened onto a crazy paved pathway leading to the front door of the little thatched cottage. She let her eyes follow the path and noticed the Periwinkle and Catnip growing in between the cracks of the paving. Both gave off a heady scent when trodden on, but Mary felt that the little plants never deserved such rough treatment just so that someone could smell their perfume. Even as a child she never ever trod on them but hop scotched her way to the front door. She let her eyes wonder over the cottage garden. "Spring seems to bring out the best in the flowers," she said to herself. "Even better that the summer months". Pansies, Holly Hock, Sweet Scented Stock and the blue of Cornflower plants were all out in profusion, giving the garden and cottage a picture book look. "It really is a pretty cottage" she thought "I shall miss it when I leave but John has to be in Africa ready to start his new job next month". John and Mary had lived in the cottage for six years after he came out of the army with a good pension, which had enabled them to buy the cottage. He had taken up his old job as an architect with a local firm in the town of Tadcaster. Previously they had been posted wherever the army had sent them. John had been a Major in the R.A.S.C over seeing the construction of new military buildings and bridges. Mary had been content with her life but was pleased when he retired and they had bought the cottage. John was the sort of man that got on with all he met and was soon accepted by the local villagers. It was different with Mary, she had always been a quiet person, much preferring to go out into the countryside and paint whatever scene took her fancy, but butterflies seemed to favour her desire to paint, and the cottage walls were festooned with her paintings of the delicate creatures. Mary walked up the pathway, unlocked the Dutch door, which some previous owner of the cottage had decided to put in, and walked into the familiar living room with its domesticity enfolding her. On impulse she went upstairs where she had her room in which she finished her paintings. She took a small easel and a case of sketching pencils and canvas from the table near the large north-facing window, made her way downstairs and out into the garden, along the path and out into the field that lay on the other side of the lane. Setting up her easel she looked at the cottage "How many times have I painted you" She said with affection. "One last time, just once more". She took out her sketching pencil and began to draw the fine lines on the canvas. It took Mary a week to finish the painting. John had concluded all of his work he was contracted to do, now he and Mary could spend some time together before they made the move to Africa. The cottage had been sold to a nice elderly couple who "Needed some fresh air in their lungs" the new owners has said. They were happy to let Mary and John stay on until it was time for them to leave. "How are you coming along with your painting?" as john one morning at breakfast. "It's finished," said Mary. "May I see it?" asked her husband. Mary took the painting from behind the chair where she had put it to show John later. He looked at it "Its beautiful, your best ever of the cottage, but you have left the For Sale Vacant Possession sign in the painting" "Not quite " she said "Look closer" he did and saw that the sign now read Butterfly Cottage. He smiled "Perfect" he said.

What do you think of the first two pages of the book i'm writing? I'm 13 and I'm writing a book (my third). What do you think of the first 2 pages i have so far? Would you want to read it? The way it looks: Upper class, suburban New England town. Kids out on their bikes, families with babies and dogs. Halfway down April Drive, there is a large house, the color of a ray of sun with a neatly trimmed lawn and a garden overflowing with tulips. There are two kids bikes toppled over on the driveway next to an SUV and a basketball hoop. Zoom in through a window. There’s a kitchen table with a lace table cloth and a vase with roses in it. In the living room sit a boy and a girl, about 12 years old. There are two bedrooms. The first is light blue with sport paraphernalia strewn about and a baseball glove tossed haphazardly on the edge of a recently made bed. On a wall is a curtain, probably covering an air conditioner. The other is next door. Light yellow walls, one with a huge dandelion sketched. If you look closely, the girls name is written on the stem; Arianna. On one of the walls there is a curtain that matches the one is the boy’s room. They must both have air conditioners built into the same place. There’s a picture frame knocked over on the desk and a vase full of yellow flowers and a light turned on next to the window that she obviously forgot to turn off. There is a decorative crystal bell on the bedside stand, with an ‘A’ inscribed on it. The next is down the hall. It’s plain to see that it’s the parents bedroom. There are pictures hanging about the wall of a boy and a girl, showing them growing up. The boy in a baseball uniform, the girl in a pool. One side on the bed looks like it’s never been touched. The pillow is perfectly ironed, a heart with an ‘S’ scrawled in pink calligraphy. The other side is wrinkled and looks slept-on, with the same pillow, but a ‘D’ written in blue. His and her matching pillows. How cute. The only reason anyone would look twice would be to admire the house. How beautiful. How New England. Typical happy family. As if. The way it is: Scrape away the yellow paint, and you’ll get a coat of light pink, my mother’s favorite color. It was painted over in yellow 5 years ago. Zoom in through the window again. The tablecloth is there to cover the engraving on the table, “Daniel and Sophie, 1993”. The girl in the living room isn’t sketching. She’s writing what she can’t say. The curtains in the bedrooms are so that the boy can alert their father if the girl needs help, because she can’t do it herself. The picture frame is purposely tipped over. The girl can’t bear to look at the woman in the picture. And the light was also purposely left on, so that if her mom wants to come home. She’ll always see the light leading her there. It hasn’t gone off in five years, two months, 27 days, 8 hours, 4 minutes, and 54 seconds. The bell is in case her brother doesn’t wake up and she needs her dad. The side on the bed that looks like it hasn’t been touched? It hasn’t, and probably never will again. Happy family? Sure. The way it seems: Single father with a high paying job and two beautiful kids. He’s so loving and doting; he even drives them to school each day and waits for them to get into the building. The little girl is always so happy and the boy is so kind. They’re both so active. A real all American family, if I’ve ever seen one. Quiet, but nice. And the kids are so well behaved; they never fight! He takes such good care of the property, too. I wish all families were as close as this one. The way it is: The reason why he’s so doting is because if he lets the girl out of his sight, he doesn’t know what will happen. He drives them to school because on the bus the boy got beat up and the girl got teased mercilessly. She acts happy so maybe she can convince herself that she is. They’re active because the house is so filled with things they can’t and don’t want to face that they spend as much time outside a possible. Things make sense for the girl there. She’s quiet because she has no choice. They don’t fight because if they do, they’ll have no one left to cling to. The boy is his sister’s guardian; if he leaves her, then what will happen? The father takes care of the property so that other people don’t think to look into what their life is really like. And with a girl like that, they have to be close. What it will never be: Normal. Best answer gets 10 points! Bonus question: The title is Seeds of Silence. Do you like the name? And i forgot to say; the girl is touched by an unimaginable act of violence at the beginning. But because she is mute (stopped talking after her mom left. another one of the secrets weaved into the book that is revealed at the end) she can't tell anyone what it is.

What do you think of the beginning of this story i wrote? So I'm in like a writing contest for my school, and so here is my beginning of my book! It's called Cherry Blossom :) One beautiful sunny spring day, there was a quiet little garden nestled deep in the woods. The sun was gleaming yellow, birds were cheerily chirping there morning songs. The fresh green grass was sparkling with new morning dew, and the flowers seemed to be dancing! The trees swayed lazily to the winds beat, sprinkling flowers and leaves all over the garden. A young girl walked quietly into the garden, letting the grass crunch easily under her barefooted feet. She sat down under the shady shadows of a cherry blossom tree, crossing her legs comfortably. She pulled out a sketching pad, and a perfectly sharp pencil. She leaned her head over the pad, completely concentrated, letting her wispy blonde hair fall over her face. The girl started sketching a beautifully, but effortless picture of a princess, staring sadly out an open window. She sighed, and looked away from her drawing, to look dreamily at the open cloudless blue sky. A sudden calling interrupted her day-dreaming, yelling out, “Lily! Lil-y! Come here right now!” The girl sighed and hastily jumped up, quickly brushing herself off. She started swiftly running towards the noise, towards home. Lily burst through her homes front door. “What?!”, Lily said annoyingly. Her mom either ignored, or didn’t hear her tone, and just said happily, “C’mon, don’t you want to unpack your room!? School is tomorrow, you know! Oh, my baby…In sixth grade already! You’re just growing up to fast!”. “Oh Martha”, Lily said teasingly. When she calls her mom by her first name, she gets mad because she’s not an ‘adult’ yet. It's not even close to being done, but what do you think?

Fighting with Fiance? Recently I cant stop thinking about the terrible way my fiance proposed to me. After about a month of blatantly weird sneaky behavior (him buying a ring), I started to get a pretty clear sense that he was going to propose soon. This was something we had previously talked about and both wanted. Im 24 and he is 29 and we have lived together 1 year already. Then this is what happened one night. At the time he almost never went out with his guy friends but he decided to that night bc I had a lot of job related work to do that night as I am self employed and every so often end up with a big project. He came home drunk while I was sitting on the couch working, and after telling me a lot of sweet things about how much he loved me (slurring his words) he whispered "i bought you a diamond ring" and proceeded to show me a picture of the type of ring, carat size and everything on the internet that it was bc he wanted to know if i liked it I was shocked and stunned, my world felt crazy. I love this person and this is the moment we decide to spend the rest of our lives together. Yet I also felt disgusted. What a drunken mess. He had just eaten like 6 burritos from taco bell and this was not the proposal i dreamed about as a little girl. Also, SHOULD i even be showing my reaction? He had only showed me a picture of the type of ring and not the actual ring. That coming weekend we were set to go to ny for my moms wedding to the man she had been with for the past 8 yrs, which was a big deal. In order to not upstage her, he told me he was going to wait for our "real" proposal. That whole week I was anxious and excited. I knew what was coming yet was not allowed to celebrate or show any signs of it. plus the surprise factor was kind of ruined. the day after we came back I was laying on the couch tired after our long trip and I said something kind of joking like "so...should I not expect that thing you told me about anytime soon?" and to my shock and slight horror right then he got the ring got down on one knee and said will you marry me as i lay on the couch! it was the most unromantic, unthought-out thing. he didnt put one ounce of effort into it and it was in the exact same place as the drunken proposal, so why did he make me wait an extra week thinking he was planning something special on top of the whole month prior to that where he had hinted to me?? Instead of being happy I actually cried WITH DISSAPOINTMENT bc he had created SUCH build up over the past month that i guess I expected some sort of huge extravaganza and when i realized my life story would begin with a drunken proposal followed by me laying on a couch, I felt super let down and dissapointed. We tend to always communicate clearly and say whats on our minds. So I did and he was very hurt! He took back the ring and said he blew it, and that the only thing to do would be for us to move out, build our relationship back up and try again. I realized I didnt want to lose him over this, and we are starting a business together too which has also been putting a huge added strain on our relationship, and why move out for this when we were otherwise happy? But after trying to figure out what to do for 2 hours, i asked if we could just do it again in the garden which we had worked on making beautiful together. i waited out in the garden for him and he came over put some flowers in my hair and for some reason when he asked me this time he got teary eyed and I could tell it meant a lot to him and it was meaningful and special to me. To all our friends who ask we only tell them the last part. But lately we've been fighting about other things when we usually never fight and I can't help but now ( a month later) think back on that whole event and think how he didnt make the effort up front to plan some special memorable proposal like most guys do. I love the ring and I know he put effort into choosing it, but (HERE'S THE QUESTION) does the fact that he didnt plan a special proposal on his own when he knew I would have wanted that mean that he doesnt value me or that he wont put effort into doing special things for me in the future? or when we are married? will he ever think to do it on his own or will I always be dissapointed at first? The business we are starting together is another factor in this whole equation. I've been constantly nagging him lately about everything and maybe that is the reason we're fighting? I feel terrible for doing it, but there is so much that needs to get down and since I am in charge more on the business aspect and he is more in charge on the physical aspect, its kind of my job to delegate tasks, yet i keep nagging about it! I swear, the year we spent together before this stuff was amazing, and I really do love him, but now that we are talking about spending the rest of our lives together I cant help jumping on every bad thing I see, dwelling on it and wondering if I should

Lovely info on Jannah.......? *The sand in Jannah is not dirt, it is a mixture of jewels *The doors in Jannah are from Jewels, and they have door knockers with Angels that attend the door. From one door to the next door is the same as the rider of a running horse going for 500 years before he will stop to reach the next door. *The houses are made from jewels. *To make your house bigger, she mentioned a hadith that says If a person recites the sura Kul Huw Allahu Ahad 10 times in one day, Allah says: I will build them a big house in Jannah. She also mentioned that whoever recites this, the angels will build your house while you recite and when you stop, the angels will stop building. That when we get to Jannah we will see some houses small, some not completed, and some are castles. Also, even tho our houses are made from jewelery, that we can see out but no one can see in. To make the flowers around your house you say, subhanAllah, AlhamduliLLAH, La Illaha ill Allah, Allahu Akbar, and for every one you say, you will have something planted in your garden. To have your sins wiped away you say, subhanAllah wa bi hamdi at least 100 times in the day. Then, you have to remember all of this is for Jannah, but in order to get there you have to pass in the judgement. So to make your scale heavy with good deeds say, subhanAllah wa bi hamdi, subhanAllahu azeem as many times as you can remember to put a lot of weight in your favor. All of this is thikr (rememberance) of Allah SWT. Don't just say it without thinking about what it is your saying and what you are doing. Actually picture or try to picture in your mind, your house and your land or your hill in jannah and the angels working while you recite putting all the things to make your house a beautiful place. So this is up to us sisters, how much we remember Allah SWT and teach our children the same. This really does depend on how we live in the akhira. Remember there is mention of tents in Jannah as well. *Another point is that everyone when we reach Jannah Insha Allah will know their place without anyone telling them where their house is. The hadith says they will know it better than they know there house here in dunyia. *a hadith was also mentioned about the person who makes the 12 sunnah of salat Allah SWT will build a house for them in Jannah. But a house will be empty if we don't have enough good deeds to get to it. The rewards of Jannah. *All of us know that the men will be rewarded with whurees. The women will be rewarded with many young male servants who help you to drink water, to eat, to change your clothing, and many other things. Even if you want something, your chair or sofa (whatever you are sitting or laying on) will walk for you to get that thing that you want so that you don't have to move from your place. *Your husband will be made more handsome, and his manners, habits, and everything else improved to be the perfect man, just for you. Also, we as their wives in dunyia will be made more beautiful than the whurees, and can be the Queens of our houses in Jannah. A hadith that says one day two angels were sitting talking, and all of a sudden one saw a bright light and asked what is this and thought that Allah SWT is coming. The other angel said no that is one of the whurees smiled at her husband. Then later there was another flash of bright light but it was more bright than the first one. The angel thought for sure this has to be the coming of Allah SWT. The other angel said no again, this the smile of one of the wives from dunyia smiling at her husband. With the passing of a certain space of time, all the women from dunyia will become more beautiful. Also with certain events such as a hug from your husband. From the time he will hug you until the time he will let go, you will become more beautiful than the beginning of the hug. *Whoever is your husband here in dunyia will be your husband in Jannah. If you married and divorced, then remarried again, you will be with the most current husband, not the one you divorced. If you didnt marry then Allah SWT will select a husband for you from dunyia (a real man - not one of the creation from Jannah), marry you together to spend your time in Jannah with each other. If your husband dies before you, and you do not remarry, he will be your husband in Jannah. The Mall in Jannah * Here when we go to the mall we are looking for those things that we want right? in Jannah every Jummah we go to the mall to see Allah SWT. *When the day of judgement has finished, Allah SWT will gather everyone in Jannah to ask 3 times, are you satisfied do you want anything more? The request will be, can we go back to dunyia and make more good deeds so that we can get more rewards? Then Allah SWT will say that dunyia is now haram for you. The people will accept to stay away from anything haram without any hesitation. Then the request will be can we see your face? Then subhanAllah we will see Insha Allah what even the

HELP feedback needed please!!? i am writing about imagery in the yellow wallpaper. I am stuck on the opening paragraph, and would like some feedback on what i have already wrote. Charlotte Perkins Gilman uses strong imagery in “The Yellow Wallpaper.” Imagery in the story is used throughout to reinforce the theme. When the narrator first tells you of the house she is staying at the house is described as, “beautiful…quite alone, standing well back from the road, quite three miles from the village,” (Gilman 533). To the reader this brings up a mental picture of peacefulness. To the narrator, the location of the house itself already seems to be foreshadowing isolation. The majority of the narrator’s time is spent in a nursery with, “barred windows for little children” and wallpaper with, “flamboyant patterns committing every artistic sin…the color is repellent…a smoldering unclean yellow, strangely faded by the slow-turning sunlight. It is a dull yet lurid orange in some places, a sickly sulphur tint in others,” (Gilman, 534). The reader visualizes this room as hideously ugly; to the narrator this room seems to be a prison in the making. The narrator can see a garden out of one of the nursery windows that has, “ mysterious deep-shaded arbors, the riotous old-fashioned flowers, and bushes and gnarly trees,” through another window, “a view of the bay and a little private wharf…there is a beautiful shaded lane that runs down there from the house,” (Gilman 535). The reader imagines this as an uglier outdated side of the lawn and a more peaceful prettier side. To the narrator these different views seem to be her living situation. She is secluded in an outdated ugly room with no freedom, she would like a prettier room and to have the freedom to walk down the beautiful shaded lane but her husband forbids her to.

Am I in love or just infatuated? DO YOU REMEMBER? Do you remember the first time we met? We all sat and in the garden drinking coffee and eating your well made upside down apple cake. I remember that I could not take my eyes of you as you were the most beautiful person in my world. But your heart was for another as I watch you gently caress and hold his hand, my heart sank as then I knew I could never be by your side. Sadly at the end of the day you left my life, but the thoughts were always of you, hoping we would meet again. Do you remember the first time you came for a BBQ? I showed you my music, in my little corner of the world, the smell of you excited me, your body next to mine I could feel the electricity. The weather was bad and we ran out of gas for the BBQ. You took me in your car looking for an open garage to buy some more. Being so near you I longed to touch you my, heart was yearning, my mind wondering and scared you might take offence to my approach. I remember how I coaxed you into parking your car as you were scared of doing it wrong. Do you remember telling me that you were going away for a while. How my heart sank at the feeling that I would not receive any form of communication from you. I longed for the day when you returned and I waited for the first of the long awaited e-mails. How you told me of your holiday with friends. Do you remember the e-mails we used to write while you were at work? They started of so formerly yet there was a feeling that this was not just a form of communication, but a step to see if the water was hot or cold. I asked you for lunch but you declined, my heart collapsed and my soul saddened by the answer. I remember that for a while I never heard for you and how bad I felt that I had stepped over the boundary. Do you remember how the e-mails began to become more personal and some had connotations and double meanings? How you had a reason to go to work and we both could not wait until the next day to find out if either of us had written. How I used to send you poems that dictated my life, and how I longed to end the suffering I was living. The poems that were written personally for you began to get deeper as my heart poured out my feelings towards you. Do you remember the first time we met away from any peering eyes. The flowers I brought were personally selected as each one reminded me of the smell of you. How our first kiss was electric to my heart, my head exploded and my soul for the first time in years had pulled it’s self together. Do you remember the lunch breaks we had in the park under the biggest tree. Lying back in the sun enjoying each others company, how you used to unbutton my shirt just to rub my chest telling me how much you loved the feel of me. Do you remember the first time we made love, we both left this planet and went to another parallel universe. The normal world would disappear for the few hours we could spend together. You were and still are still the most beautiful woman in the world to me. After the few hours were gone reality would come along with it the normal world would reappear. Do you remember when our baby Elodie was born? I was so proud of you and already had such a closeness to Elodie. Each day I see her reminds me of the times we spent previously, knowing that she knew we were sharing love. The first day I got to hold her was like a shining light that opened my eyes to the brand new world she would encounter as life goes by. Do you remember the holiday we had in the mountains? The time we spent together, every day a dream. Enjoying the freedom away from hurtful eyes. The day we were making love on the balcony while the old man walked his dog albeit very slowly and daily in the hope I guess. The places we went always left a picture in my mind, the nights together, making love and falling asleep in each others arms, awaking in the morning to a bright and beautiful day, having breakfast in the morning sunlight. Do you remember the walks we used to take? Be it the forest, beach or the city, holding hands and the world we would always leave behind. We could be in amongst hundreds of people, yet be alone in our own beautiful world. No one could enter our world until it was time to come back to real life and return to our perspective lives. Do you remember how we nursed me back to health when we were sick? Our devotion was beyond that of anything we have encountered, which made our love inseparable , knowing that love would not turn it’s back on our suffering Do you remember the years we have spent together? So much has happened over the 3 years our hearts have entwined. The Birth of Elodie, the Birth of love and devotion, the Birth of a new life. Will you remember in years to come the magic times we had shared? I know that I will never forget those secluded and precious times that life had given us and offers us more special times to come. I want us to remember when the time our God calls us, that no matter where we are if we look into our hearts we will always be there and those special time will return when we meet again in a world where it will always be filled with love, until then we will keep out hearts for each other and love as much as life will allow and beyond. Thank you all for reading and commenting on my work. However I just like to comment on a couple of people. FAMlite, I am neither fat or do I sit around all day Saturday to write in such a way. To write with such pose, needs time at looking at inner feelings. I run my own business, and I am chairperson of the financial Management syndicate. I also am a Karate teacher 4 nights a week and I personally train at weekends for competitions. I am lean and mean, not fat and a prate. To the two people, who consider it to be grated cheese, Watch your knuckles on the grater or your have bloody grated cheese.

Is this good? It's the beginning of a story I was thinking of.? I'm just a kid, but I like to write and I want to know how I can improve and what I should keep writing. Thanks! Emmy, half-asleep on the couch, was watching Vacation with the Howes, one of her favorite movies, on a hot summer day. If you saw her, you might wonder why she wasn’t outside with the other thirteen-year-olds, but she had her reasons. Darren (her little brother), once again, had done something he was told not to do and he was not aloud outside. Emmy’s mother was out in the garden, picking flowers and vegetables for her shop and no matter where he was, Darren had to be watched because of his habit of getting in trouble. Why can’t he just go outside with Mom? Emmy wondered. He is only five. Does she really expect him to always be a little angel? By the way, It’s way more boring picking flowers then it is to be in the house with T.V., internet access, and a 13-year-old girl, or should I say slave who has been told to play the part of a storyteller, a playmate, a chef, and more if asked by the punished monster they call a human. Her mother was taking a very long time in the garden. Emmy noticed this because her movie was almost over. Usually she didn’t have to watch Darren that long because her mother didn’t take very long in the garden. She was fast with her hands just like her daughter and watering plants, harvesting plants, and giving plants Nutral, a natural liquid with nutrients that she made herself and sold in her shop as well would only take her half an hour at the most, even with her humongous garden that took up most of the gigantic yard. Emmy decided that everything was just fine and she waited for a song to finish the movie. Emmy heard a loud cry. Darren was running outside, as his mother told him not to do, when he knocked something over. The door slammed and Emmy jumped up. It became very hot and all that she could see was red and orange. Emmy couldn’t move, and even if she could, flames were surrounding her on all sides, so she wouldn’t be able to get out. Al Emmy could think was, "I’m gonna die, I’m gonna die." By the time any help came, she would be long gone. The fire was closing in on her but she felt paralyzed by the burns she already had. But she had to get out somehow. She had to defeat her burns. She had to defeat death. Ray-er! Ray-er! Ray-er! No sound could have been more welcoming to Emmy’s ears. The sirens of the fire trucks gave her the strength to roll to the center of the opening, to give the firefighters the most time possible to save her. Emmy felt great pain when her burns rubbed against the soon-to-be burned rug. She smelt smoke, ashes, and her own sweat, but something strange was happening- even as she saw the fire burning, felt her face sweating, the smell was dimming. Emmy could only see flames, ready to eat her up, and then a helmeted face, and then nothing. The book would be mainly about her trying to get back to a normal life with her burns and loss of one of her senses (haven't decided which, yet) Or i this a better plot: After that chilly day of February 29th 2004, my father would never be able to see again. My sister would never be able to hear again. My brother would never be able to walk again. My mother would never be able to live again. And none of us would ever be able to be the same again. And all this because the roads were a little too icy, a little too rough. Because the guardrails were a little too rickety, and the driver behind us was a little too drunk. All this because our fates were a little too close, and none of us could stop it. One year later, on March 1st, I was sitting in my room, crying over a picture of Mom, beautiful and radiant, ready to see her. I took out the sh I am a girl, but I'll definately check out your book. I like those kind of books a lot. I'm 13, by the way. Thanks!

I'm trying to write a novel, is this Chapter good? Tell me if it's good but try to keep down the criticism I'm very sensitive. The Dreams and the Rose of Heather Dormeur Prologue: Heather Dormeur the Angel on Earth Heather was a young and very gracious, beautiful, and kindhearted girl. She had radiant blonde hair the glimmered in the sunlight. Her skin was lightly tanned and her eyes were gorgeous pools of water that brightened the dullest of windows. She was an intellectual girl as well, very popular and well liked by everyone. She was asked out to dates several times by every boy in her school. She also helped out at the animal center and donated to the local orphanage every week. She was just an angel that flew from heaven to bring splendor and optimism into the dreary and cruel planet known as Earth. Maybe she was, but we will never know. Chapter 1 “Honey, wake up, wake up!” Mrs. Dormeur said with a gentle voice. Heather woke up with a long and lethargic yawn that signified her long, deep sleep. She wasn’t a morning person at all; she referred to mornings as a guillotine that cuts off sleep and relaxation. Yet, with a reluctant sigh she got up. “Mom, do I have to get up at six in the morning! School isn’t for another like two hours!” She said with a voice that made her seem like she was about to die a painful death. Her mother said not a word for two hours. This perplexed her. “Mom you ready to drive me to school?” “You’re not going to school today hon’.” “Why today is Friday right? I also don’t recall today being a holiday, and today is supposed to clear up later today.” “You’re not going to school because we are going to a funeral today.” “Whose funeral is it?” The room was silent for a few minutes, and Mrs. Dormeur started to cry her eyes out, and with eyes filled with tears and her voice gasping for air. She said “Your father’s funeral.” Heather’s heart fell, it seemed like it wasn’t a heart, just an empty black hole with nothing but pain, fear, and gloom trapped inside. Heather didn’t believe this was true. Her mom had taken acting classes, and she had seen her act she was quite exceptional. “Okay mom nice trick but I don’t believe you.” She said with a skeptical tone. “It’s true Heather, its true.” She said still sobbing. “He never came home last night, I got a call from the police yesterday night saying that he had died when a careless driver crashed into him making him swirl off the highway and fall into the river and he drowned…” Heather was in absolute shock. She couldn’t hold back the tears and she sobbed and mourned the loss of her dad. Never did she think this would happen. With frail and sorrowful hearts they got in the car after on a stormy morning in April. The road seemed like an interminable, for the drive was dull and the day was a drowsy one in which someone could just fall asleep and dream… Heather had found herself in a cell with bright and vivid images of her father, these pictures showed all their good times together, at the bake sale in 4th grade. There was also a picture of him teaching her how to swim when she was four. The picture of him teaching her how to ride a bike was also there. So many pictures from her younger years and they all made her heart fill with bliss yet suddenly they spontaneously combusted into small sparkling specks of the pictures. Heather cried once this had happened, yet the pieces formed together and turned into a spectral form of what looked like her father. Heather looked up in amazement at the brilliant figure. He wore a robe of fine white silk and gold, his face was hidden behind a veil. Heather was in total awe! She could not move a muscle in her body. With a very harsh and brutal voice he said, “Heather… my lovely Heather.” Heather couldn’t help but feel discomfort. He continued saying, “Heather I have to tell you a secret, which has condemned me from the very day you were born.” He took a small pause and silence came over the cell, it deeply disturbed Heather and gave her goose bumps. In a scream that was filled with hatred he yelled, “I hated you I always have, I always will! You were such a burden to grow up. Always asking questions and wanting to learn things! It annoyed and tortured me in the very pit of my soul! Yet that is not why I loathed you.” Heather was completely paralyzed. He continued “I was thinking of killing you at the peak of your life. I had planned to right after the day of my death!” He carefully lifted his veil and under it was a blue and lifeless face filled with anger and rage. “I had died because god protected you; god loved you and hated me that is why I loathed you because you were too perfect too much of an angel. I could see it I our eyes the day you were born.” The cells just shattered into darkness. Heather ran while all the memories of her dad, which were all around her, were being consumed by the encroaching darkness. Heather’s father yelled, “You can not escape death! Oh no never can you! I wish I could’ve ended your life but the cruel tortures of humanity and life will devour your being and turn it into nothing! NOTHING!” The darkness was coming for her catching up… When suddenly she heard a voice… “Heather Dormeur! Wake up! Wake up we’re here!” Heather woke up with her eyes wide open and a face that looked bleak and pale. “Honey are you okay?” Mrs. Dormeur asked. “Ya mom I’m okay I just had this nightmare.” Heather said with a somnolent and a slightly fearful voice. “You sure, your face is really pale and…” “Don’t worry mom, I just got a little car sick… That’s all” “Okay then lets go get ready in the bathroom” Heather was thought about the dream she had of her father, she was very confused and a stormy cloud of melancholy, hatred, and guilt came over her. She had never thought her father had that of her this way. As she got out of the she had noticed that they were at a very old cemetery. The tombstones were covered in this grotesque mold that had grown and the stones looked like mounds of pebbles glued together. The dirt was more like sand, to the touch it was very soft to the touch but very hard to grab. She had entered the convenience store on the other side of the street after seeing where the funeral would take place. She disliked wearing mourning outfits just for the fact that they were only back and so sad to look at, a whole group would just make her cry at the spot. She went back to the cemetery and saw that all of the family on her dad’s side was there. There many that looked depressed naturally, stressed out, there were some plump and slender ones they looked like a very odd bunch of people who you would never guess them to be related. Heather was not paying attention to them though, her mother was greeting them, and she could not help but only look at a picture of her father and feel a lot of displeasure, hatred and love for the man. As she was walking in the funeral service which was in a beautiful garden in the very back of the garden, it was the exact opposite of the cemetery for it flourished with beauty and liveliness, and was trimmed with beautiful flowers such as petunias daffodils and a variety of roses and in the very distant corner there was this pitch black rose in which stuck out but with its distant location no one had noticed, except for Heather. This rose seemed to have been grown in hell for its stem was withered brown and yet the flower itself didn’t fall. The petals were twisted and deformed and there were only about 13 petals and they each had a taint of red on them. The withered stem had exactly 666 miniature thorns which Heather was shocked when she saw it. It was also quite tall and it’s fragrant smelled of a rotting lamb carcass. This rose had an ominous feeling about it, it left the atmosphere around it filled with discomfort, depression, guilt, envy, and other emotions that made a heart blemish its state of contentment. Heather marveled by this mysterious black rose decided it to pick it from the spot and keep it in her coat. A microphone had gone on and old man who looked like the Pope with black lustrous said. ”We are gathered here today to mourn the loss of Lukas Derek Dormeur.” Everyone there turned to a podium in which the man was talking. “Does anybody have a few words to say?” He asked. Mrs. Dormeur went up to the podium and said, “My husband was a great man who lived life without any regrets. He loved everyone he has ever known and showed us what he could do, what his dreams were, he inspired us with persevering to the end and teaching us great lessons about life and how to reach happiness and to maintain it.” Mrs. Dormeur then just crying after the period, she looked like she lost something precious to her, she lost her love and her soul mate. Heather felt that all she said about him was true but it was merely a curtain covering the devil that stayed sanctioned behind a form of what seemed to be her caring father. It was all a cover-up he was a man whose life had been driven by killing those chosen by god to have a life of perfection. She could not help feel the same emotions she felt earlier, she was confused on why she felt like this. Heather was an age that would be ready to be released into the world, she didn’t understand, she was feeling a mixture of pain, sorrow, guilt, and detestation, while the body was put in the soil to rest forevermore. After the service there was some food under a tent of smooth silken fabric. It had pervaded throughout the entire cemetery and the entire area was under a veil of light. Heather in her state of depression and rage could not help but release it. She pushed tables on to the ground smashed glass plates and stomped the food. She ripped off the veil and took a lighter from a man who was smoking outside and burned the entire veil. Finally, Heather had dug up her father grave with her bare hands and burned coffin and his body was burned right there. People panicked as the veil was falling down in flames. Heather just ran, ran as far as she possibly could away from the giant pile of flames in which people were trapped under. She heard screams and cries for help, but Heather could not but just stare and think of the thought that the demon which was her father was exterminated forever, and the memory of him will be long forgotten. She could not help but laugh a maniacal laugh that plagued the air with death. Heather knew this was arson, genocide and many more crimes so she kept running after that brief pause. She never looked back and she just kept running to a future that was untold.

tell me if these jokes are funny? 1. Three men were standing in line to get into heaven one day. Apparently it had been a pretty busy day, though, so Peter had to tell the first one, "Heaven's getting pretty close to full today, and I've been asked to admit only people who have had particularly horrible deaths. So what's your story?" So the first man replies: "Well, for a while I've suspected my wife has been cheating on me, so today I came home early to try to catch her red-handed. As I came into my 25th floor apartment, I could tell something was wrong, but all my searching around didn't reveal where this other guy could have been hiding. Finally, I went out to the balcony, and sure enough, there was this man hanging off the railing, 25 floors above ground! By now I was really mad, so I started beating on him and kicking him, but wouldn't you know it, he wouldn't fall off. So finally I went back into my apartment and got a hammer and starting hammering on his fingers. Of course, he couldn't stand that for long, so he let go and fell -- but even after 25 stories, he fell into the bushes, stunned but okay. I couldn't stand it anymore, so I ran into the kitchen, grabbed the fridge and threw it over the edge where it landed on him, killing him instantly. But all the stress and anger got to me, and I had a heart attack and died there on the balcony." "That sounds like a pretty bad day to me," said Peter, and let the man in. The second man comes up and Peter explains to him about heaven being full, and again asks for his story. "It's been a very strange day. You see, I live on the 26th floor of my apartment building, and every morning I do my exercises out on my balcony. Well, this morning I must have slipped or something, because I fell over the edge. But I got lucky, and caught the railing of the balcony on the floor below me. I knew I couldn't hang on for very long, when suddenly this man burst out onto the balcony. I thought for sure I was saved, when he started beating on me and kicking me. I held on the best I could until he ran into the apartment and grabbed a hammer and started pounding on my hands. Finally I just let go, but again I got lucky and fell into the bushes below, stunned but all right. Just when I was thinking I was going to be okay, this refrigerator comes falling out of the sky and crushes me instantly, and now I'm here." Once again, Peter had to concede that that sounded like a pretty horrible death. The third man came to the front of the line, and again Peter explained that heaven was full and asked for his story. "Picture this," says the third man, "I'm hiding inside a refrigerator..." 2. These four guys were walking down the street, a Saudi, a Russian, a North Korean, and a New Yorker. A reporter comes running up and says, "Excuse me, what is your opinion about the meat shortage?" The Saudi says, "What's a shortage?" The Russian says, "What's meat?" The North Korean says, "What's an opinion?" The New Yorker, says, "Excuse me?? What's excuse me?" 3. A Brit, a Frenchman and a Russian are viewing a painting of Adam and Eve frolicking in the Garden of Eden. "Look at their reserve, their calm," muses the Brit. "They must be British." "Nonsense," the Frenchman disagrees. "They're naked, and so beautiful. Clearly, they are French." "No clothes, no shelter," the Russian points out, "they have only an apple to eat, and they're being told this is paradise. They are Russian." 4.An American tourist in Moscow found himself needing to get rid of a large supply of garbage from his recent stay at an apartment. After a long search, he just couldn't find any place to discard of it. So, he just went down one of the side streets to dump it there. Yet, he was stopped by a Moscow police officer, who said, "Hey you, what are you doing?" "I have to throw this away," replied the tourist. "You can't throw it away here. Look, follow me," the policeman offered. The police officer led him to a beautiful garden with lots of grass, pretty flowers, and manicured hedges. "Here," said the cop, "dump all the garbage you want." The American shrugs, opens up the large bags of garbage, and dumps them right on the flowers. "Thanks for giving me a place to dump this stuff. This is very nice of you. Is this Russian courtesy?" asked the tourist. "No. This is the American Embassy." 5.An Englishman, Frenchman, Mexican, and Texan were flying across country on a small plane when the pilot comes on the loud speaker and says " We're having mechanical problems and the only way we can make it to the next airport is for 3 of you to open the door and jump, at least one of you can survive" The four open the door and look out below. The Englishman takes a deep breath and hollers "God Save The Queen" and jumps. The Frenchman gets really inspired and hollers "Viva La France" and he also jumps. This really pumps up the Texan so he hollers "Remember the Alamo" and he grabs the Mexican an

Do THESE touch your soul too? Hi all.I live in Iran and have something really special for you.The songs below are the translations for 5 Iranian pop music.I've translated them by myself.These songs were chosen as the best songs because of the best lyrics and the best music tone in an official ceremony in France.After 50 times listening, I've just understood what the singer mean by all this and that what the words "you","leaf","window","rain","wind","tree" and the other elements refer to.Now, I understand why I get very emotional whenever I listen to his music, since it comes straight from the depths of the heart and it's got a message in it for the whole world.If you want to listen to the best music ever, just e-mail me and give me your e-mail address.I'll send them to you simultaniousely.You'd feel the strong emotion in the singer's voice.By the way they're all modern pop music only the message differs.Now enjoy and see if you could get some hidden messages out of them:After listening come back and tell me which one did you like the best? TO listen to them use the address below: http://music.musictnt.com/listen/144-Siavash-Ghomayshi.php In that page you'll see the albums as his pictures.click on the one which reads:Roozhaye Bi Khatereh Release Date:2005. In the next page you'll see the list of the songs.I've written the names at the start of each lyric.I suggest you to listen to them in this order: Booseye Baad, Panjareh,Mahboobeye shab,Tasavvor Kon, yaade man baash First:(mahboobeye shab) when the night steps in the gardens, the flowers cannot breath when the darkness rains (comes down) from the sky, the blooms become sad when the darkness doesn't allow the flowers to breath, the "love flower" stays awake at night she (the love flower) doesn't allow the night to have any effects on her, her smell can be felt even at the other side of the gardens if (someone) puts the love flower in a vase, and plants thistles all around her (even) if (someone) walls up all around her body (existence), (even) if everyone accuses all of her fibers (even with all these difficulties) the smell of the love flower makes her way to the beyond of all the stone walls (and) the love flower, has a shelter in the heart of the blooms at nights when the flowers are sitting in the darkness, and they all have closed their eyes because of the horrer of the night (and) when their body trembles becuase of the fear of the darkness, you "lover flower" are the shelter for them Second:(yaade man baash) you left (me) and your memories have sat down in my mind without you I'm the prisoner of the impossible wishes (ambitions) you didn't keep me in your memory (you didn't think of me) but, I broke in the memory of you I didn't fall in love with anyone but you, (because) you're far from me sing with me and think of me, think of me (keep me in your memory) without any excuses when the moon is awake, think of me with all your love if you be (with me), it is possible to pass the (unfortunate) events and) it is possible to learn how to burst into flames, in the fire of your love) if you're away (from me), if you're not (with me), (at least) be the breath of my cry till the end of the world, forever, keep me in your memory (think of me) Third:(Tasavvor kon) Imagine.Even if it is hard to imagine.a world where each person is truly fortunate!Imagine a world where money, race, and power have no place!a world where riot police is not the answer to the calls for unity!a world with no nuclear bombs, no artillery, and no bombardments!a world where no child will leave his legs on land mines!Everybody free, totally free! no one in pain, no pain!You wouldn't read in newspapers that whales committed suicide!Imagine a world with no hatred, no gunpowder,no cruelty of arrogant, no fear, no coffin!Imagine a world filled with smile and freedom!full of flowers and kisses! Filled with up-growing improvements!Imagine! Even if it is a crime to imagine so!even if you'd lay down your life on this!Imagine a world where prison does not exist in reality,where all wars of the world are included in ‘The Ceasefire Treaty'!!a world where nobody is ‘The Boss' of the world!people are all equal!Then each person will have an equal share in each single seed of wheat!No border, no boundaries – motherland would mean the entire world!imagine you could be the interpretation of this dream! Forth:(Booseye Baad)(club mix) The kiss of the autumnal wind whispers to the lonely leaf unmercifully that you'll be the victim of the autumn The new green leaf loses its green color, it drowns in the kisses of the wind and the horror of the new day It (the leaf) abandons the tree and wanders around in the alley (becomes homeless), an alley that is the reminder of the gone and futile days It (the leaf) sits down in the corner of the alley, stares up at the sky, thinks of the past, and feels pity for it (with sadness) (It thinks of) the days that the alley was under my body's shade, and the kind lover tree, loved the smell of my breath so much My share of the wind's kiss, what can I say oh my gosh, was all getting yellow-colored and faded, and dying and being forgotten Fifth:(Panjareh) When at sunset, the rain hits the (window) glass All the sadness in the world is in my chest In the rain drops, my choked voice breaks (intrupts) I don't want anything but a window anymore I sit down behind this window and sing I wait for your arrival under the rain Under the rain, waiting for you is very different Sounds like I love you more when it rains Sometimes when you come, you put your head on my shoulder You take all the sadness away from my heart But this is only a dream, a dream behind the window (glass) When I'm awake, sadness sits down in my throat again (I become sad again) sorry, if it was too long.And also sorry for the gramatical mistakes.The rest of them are as beautiful as these, but I haven't translated them yet.

What do you think of my short story? The surroundings around me were beautiful; everything was covered in a bright white layer of snow, so bright that I had to scrunch my eyes up in order to see properly. The trees were sprinkled with a crisp, white topping and the heads of the flowers peeping through the snow, glistened in the winter sun. As I looked at the ground below me, I was surprised to find small, hoof shaped prints in the snow. I pulled the collar of my coat up around my ears and trudged forward through the snow, battling against the strong blizzard that was pushing against me. There was more than one set of prints; whatever creature they belonged to, there was a large group of them; maybe nine or ten. I pressed forward, fighting against the almighty force that did not want me to continue on my path. The icy breeze whistled through my ears and flakes of snow danced around my face. After a few minutes of walking, a silhouette of a building became visible in the distance; it looked like a small cabin of some sort. I increased my speed and forced myself through the snow. As the building grew closer and became more focused, I was shocked to see that it was different to any other cabin I had seen before. The neat, picket fence that bordered the log cabin was made of red and white striped candy canes. Fairy lights twinkled in every window and tiny garden gnomes lined the pathway to the entrance. I carefully pushed the gate open and walked down the perfect pathway to the door. I tapped lightly on the door and waited for an answer. A silhouette of a large man appeared in the window and I heard a key twisting in the lock. A round faced man with a big, bushy white beard popped his head around the door and stared down at me through half moon spectacles. “Ah Milly! I have been expecting you!” boomed the man. “How did you know my name?” I asked, bewildered. “I know every child’s name, Milly. I am Santa Claus” he chuckled. “Don’t be silly. I’m fourteen, I know that Santa doesn’t exist!” “But of course he does. He is standing right in front of you” “Just because you say you’re Santa, doesn’t mean you are. All of the Santa Claus’ in the supermarkets say that they are the real Santa, but they’re not; they’re just men dressed in Santa suits!” I shuddered as remembered back to the day I had discovered the horrible truth. “Ah, you have been sent to me for a reason Milly. Do you know what that reason is?” “No” “It is for me to prove to you that I do exist and for me to restore your belief in me. Will you let me do that Milly?” “You can try, but I don’t think you will be able to....” I faltered “um, Mr Claus” “Just call me Santa” he winked. I followed the man through the door and across a quaint hallway. We reached another door and he gestured for me to open it. I pushed hard against the solid oak door and was surprised to see what the room behind it contained. Hundreds of tiny people, wearing green hats and stripy shoes with turned up toes were hard at work making every kind of toy imaginable. I found it baffling that a room of this size could fit into the tiny cabin; there was no logical reason for it. “This is my workshop Milly” I stared, opened mouthed at the elves. I tried to think of something to say but words escaped me. “We won’t be staying here though; I have something else to show you” He made his way through the workshop, taking long and even strides; I quickened by pace to keep up with him. We went through another door and I gasped in shock as I noticed a large, gold and red sleigh sitting in the middle of the room. Nine magnificent reindeer were lined up in front of the sleigh. I looked at their hoofs and thought back to the prints I had seen in the snow; they matched perfectly. “These are my reindeer, I’m sure you already know their names from the famous Christmas carol” chuckled Santa. “Yes” I whispered. “And which is your favourite, Milly?” “Rudolf, of course” I laughed “Is it true that his light really glows?” “Why don’t you go take a look for yourself?” I walked past the line of reindeer until I reached the front. One reindeer stood alone at the front of the line. I looked at his name tag; Rudolf. “So you’re Rudolf huh?” I said, patting him lightly on this head. Suddenly, Rudolf’s nose burst into a blinding red light making me cover my eyes with my hand. “Wow!” “How about a picture?” asked Santa. “Um, ok then” I put my hopped on to Rudolf’s back and smiled. The camera flash exploded in my face as Santa took the picture. “There you go” said Santa, handing me the developed polaroid. “Now, how about a ride on my sleigh?” “Really?” “Hop in” smiled Santa patting the passenger seat. I jumped into the seat and clutched onto the rail in front of me. Santa sat in the driver’s seat and tugged on the reins. The reindeer began to run towards the open doors. The reindeers were running so fast that the wind ruffled through my hair and rippled against my cheeks; it was amazing. “Stop” i crie “Stop” i cried out in horror as i realised that the floor beneath us suddenly dissapeared after the doors. The reindeer continued hurtling towards the deadly drop but Santa paid no attention to my pleas to stop. I flung my hands over my eyes as we approached the drop and braced myself for the fall. The relieved to feel myself rise instead of fall and pulled my hand away from my eyes to see what had happened. I was amazed to see that we were soaring through the air. “Ho!Ho!Ho!” boomed Santa. I peered over the edge of the sleigh; the streets below looked like little toy towns and the people looked like tiny specks of dust. Suddenly, the sleigh jerked forward and i was flung from my seat. I screamed in horror as i plummeted through the sky. “Santaaaa!!” I screamed but the sleigh was no where in sight. I squeezed my eyes together and prepared myself for the inevitable. Everything was deadly silent as i was plunged into darkness. “Thats it” i thought to myself “I must be dead” I was suddenly aware of a warm, comfortable surface underneath me. I forced my eyes open and was relieved to find that i was laying in my bed. “Phew! It was just a dream!” I sighed “I knew that Santa wasn’t real!” I rumaged around on the bedside table, looking for my glass of water to soothe my dry throat. I grew frustrated when i could not find it and stuck my arm out to turn on my bedside lamp. As the room illuminated i gasped in disbelief; there, propped up neatly against the lamp was the photograph of me and Rudolf taken by Santa. I grabbed the photograph and stared at it in shock. I turned to the back of the photo and there, written in the most perfect of handwriting was a message; “To Milly, you must believe! Love Santa and Rudolf x”. © Opinions would be appreciated :) Sorry for the 'typos' i wrote this while i was supposed to be working so it is kind of rushed! lol