Big Floating Arm Trebuchet Plans

There are moments in our lives that are literally forks and our future depends entirely on them, key points in our lives.

remember one of these moments. My friend Jean-Marc invited me dinner at a Japanese restaurant to celebrate my birthday that another year would inapercibido at home since I live with a man who forgets everything so is its inertia. Jean-Marc and I came together in a large bookstore in the capital and to leave the store I remember being asked what he preferred most in my life: if animals or books. And I could not answer because my life without all of them have no flavor whatsoever.

indecision was the first that day.

day was a very blue sky with puffy pearls, and thick clouds, one of your childhood skies, open and tender, and full of artistic leadership strange shapes that allow the imagination to work. My friend just give me a travel book, exactly. The Cruel Way , Ella M. Maillart. Walking along the Gran Via discussing how they would be more difficult to travel and that although the world had opened up more and more. Wars and revolutions were present more difficult to reach certain places as mysterious and as beautiful as Afghanistan, Turkey, Iran, Iraq ... Maybe we'd also become less brave, and our own conformism was the longest border and biggest barrier we had and that kept us from being free as were the passengers of the beginning of last century.

In the Japanese restaurant the first thing I asked my friend got a bottle of sake. We keep talking about books and travel. The parallels between reading and travel. Each book is an adventure that starts, a spiritual adventure, an adventure of knowledge and understanding. Our epic interior enriched by more and more readings. Also, a continuous meditation on life and about yourself. This was perhaps the goal of reading, to know thoroughly. In addition to cure many things, which is a way to love, to tame, to deepen and travel.

Sake had a bitter aftertaste that reminded me of stories of drinks and food, mouths, taste. Colette, for example. In his travels always reflected on the palate, an essential part of knowledge. Meanwhile Jean-Marc told me about his next trip in the Gobi Desert. And so suddenly, without more, I asked if I wanted to accompany him.

remember the bitter taste in my mouth sake became something so soft and so good that I started to laugh, but laughter that was like honey. My eyes were laughing too, something that had not happened very often lately. I thought that my friend handsome at that moment that I embraced with a force of great tenderness. Perhaps all this because behind my friend's eyes shone a unique affection, with much understanding, a kind of maternal wisdom, gentle, flexible, friendly. I was so comfortable, so simply at peace with myself, as he entered in the books of these great and brave travelers and that they crossed deserts and mountains and places great names such as Baluchistan, Persia , Isfahan , Elburz , Tashkent, Kyrgyzstan ... suddenly all seemed so accessible, to the other side of my hands, here so close, so possibly close.

- I can not, I am married to Paul.

- But you know he will not say anything, you always tell me that you can take what you want even with Paul in your life ...

And there was the second moment of indecision.

some time has passed since that day. Jean-Marc died, a couple of years, in a plane crash near Istanbul. I follow with my husband apathetic to all reality, locked in his world. At night, returning from the Japanese dinner for a long time I looked in the mirror. I saw a woman a little sad, but very close to myself. The next day the first thing I did was go to the hairdresser to cut my hair.

Best Way To Remove Fat From Sausage

Participation in "Blind date" - Chapter 84


address: Sebastian De Caro

indent: Malena Pichot

Ingrown Hairs Labia White

The letters from the trenches

Something does not understand and will never understand and it is this desire that certain people have in not wanting to throw anything. I find it incredible. It is as if one were to save, infinitum, the first support. But why, mother of God? Why hang on the wall? "To remember that one was free, this thing so bad that captures your chest? But hey!

bras go, as is everything and there comes a time to sit there and start throwing things away. But seriously: not if ... not ... that alomejor ... Nothing. You sit next to one of these wastes as the one I bought in Portugal the other day, almost as tall as me. A beauty garbage. And for serving a waste? As for that shoot.

I have to admit that it can be a difficult experience, not so much to visit a psychologist, although there are people who would visit him at times like this. I have a friend, for example, that holds up the food bills of their canaries. He says that when they are out their love, only to see a bill will make food for them to revive their love and Kanister Petruska. I do not understand. For me it is a pleasure to shoot. I throw away my life and the proof is that I have hardly anything. But still remain some little things that I have to pay because it does not help save them. How are you my letters exs.

last Saturday so I decided to open this huge box full of letters. I sat accompanied by my dogs and cats in the small courtyard pleased that I have and was getting the cards one by one, read superficially and the trash. How can you save so much nonsense in a cardboard box?

My beloved friend, the desire to be back in your bed blue ... This written by a certain Alberto while he was enjoying a vacation in Cancun with another friend of hers. A waste.

I decided to leave because it is very hard to live two lives ... I had already forgotten about this story. In the trash, then.

'm drinking tea, thinking about your long legs. The scoundrel when he returned from Turkey Turkish forgot to bring me tea. What was his name? Ivan and I know he was a photographer, and very smart. But a wise man is useless if you forget to bring tea. So I left, not only for the tea, which is enough in my scale of values, but other things that I do not remember. But had to be fat. What happens is that all men are alike in the background. My mother was right.

A trash away all these letters of love vague, abstract distant and arguably nonexistent. The years I do understand that what is best for a woman to live alone, without men. I do not really understand the women who can not live without being accompanied by the weaker sex . They say that life without men has no sense . They need to wake up next to a presence because otherwise feel like a vacuum. Obviously do not know how good it is to sleep alone on a good futon and well at ease, without legs or arms at the edge of your body to burden you for the rest of your life. When I wake up first thing you see are the whiskers of Pandora, my Persian cat, here, right under my eyes (dark circles Pandora loves to tickle silver whiskers). And if I go to see a straight face side of Pluto, the French bulldog is prettier than on this planet. Just look at me makes me want to laugh. Does this happen when you open your eyes and you see a man sleeping your side with your mouth open? Come on!

In the garbage, trash and garbage.

A part-time as I prepared a good tea Chinese who do not see my little closer patio: Paquita, the lame. So, here people have nicknames, is for well-defined and not confused with other Paquita. Well, what was: Paquita crept with a plate in his hands, a banana cake and cheese while looking offered me a place to sit . I brought a chair to put next to the trash Paquita looked at him curiously, since in Spain there is no waste of this kind. And then he reported what he was doing. I told him. He became very serious and said that by evil, love letters throw was an act of vandalism to a lonely old age. I would repent, he insisted:

- When you're my age and no one will see ... these letters will be a balm on the long, gray days that await you.

I said that anyway no one was watching me now because men look at girls age 17. He also had many books to read that I never get bored, it is impossible to get bored with reading so much about what happened in the years after that extraordinary war.

- But you continue with this obsession?

Paquita know my passion about the Great War, one day invited her to tea and told him so. He looked at me very kindly and I started talking about his mother, who lived in those terrible years. Since that day, after having listened for more than two hours behind a friendly and attentive silence, Paquita is my friend. It has some goats and occasionally gives me cheese, real cheese, not as those sold in cardboard Mercadona.

La Paquita drank Chinese tea slowly and watched me throw away letters, and not read them, I knew they were from another life, addressed to another woman who did not exist. I do not need cards to be strong, or live, or to find meaning in my life. Shooting is good, to bring order is good. Then what I did was this: I went to make tea, this time an area of \u200b\u200bIraq, and I started reading, surrounded by cats and dogs, What is: letters of fallen soldiers in the field of honor, 1914-1918 , Jacques Benoist-Méchin . A delight.

Identifaction Marks Of China/ Two Arrows Crossing

Tea and conspiracies

My Aunt Angelina and I have something in common, and it is our passion for tea. Is a vice, a vice but enjoy little like a mortal sin.

Every time I visit my aunt, once a month and nothing else, gave him tea, a tea that she does not know, tea tasty and delicious come from Afghanistan or Iran or India. And my aunt who is very sinful, it gets all red. Not if you feel guilty or not, for my part I think everyone has to cope with their sins.

is because of this passion for tea that my aunt has "Saturday you 'once a month. I am invited and I will always reluctantly. I do not like the human body, I do not like being with people. I like the solitude, books and be with my favorite friends, my dogs and my cats. But my aunt go home because if my aunt did not go to a phone call and give me the can. When leaving the house always check if I carry my Rescue Remedy, by Dr. Bach. Just in case. I would not have a panic attack among their guests.

While your guests are always the same, or rather the same: Adelaide and Dolores. Both are very nice, but I do not like nice people. So it is in a bad mood I'm in front of them. And in a bad mood to hear them talk about their latest purchases, his latest binge and his later encounters with the group to which they are affiliated, a kind of Catholic sect and not very clear about its objectives: secret meetings where planning trips abroad to visit castles where the Templars lived, very elitist conferences on topics such as Rosicrucian or Catharism; films visions some royalty ... When I speak of this organization, called " The group of five " have to see how they shine their eyes and their voices take on a slow schedule and studied, very mysterious tone. But if you believe that envy is wrong. I envy such rubbish, frankly. Life is very simple when one lives with dogs and cats and in a village of 20 inhabitants. Is it so hard to understand this? And to complicate things with so much mystery?

authors also sometimes read a great blandness, as well known as the Dan Brown. In short, each with their madness. And let me, yes, at peace with mine.

My aunt has a very conventional tea, good saves for her, it takes forever alone with her three cats, Nemesis, Pandora and Frankenstein. But with his tea cakes always first quality. I love them, but not just me. Adelaide and Dolores look like two snakes eating the cakes, so I have to make do for at least eat one or two. The rest I've seen here and here and not there.

The Dolores is very strange lately. Have a look so lost and is due, according to Adelaide, a discovery that has made about earthquakes. He says these are caused by the human hand with sophisticated machines that can change the time and everything. I can not believe I so desire absurd incongruities. And I always like to disturb the Dolores is a small defect which gives me much pleasure.

- And it is not possible, Dolores, These earthquakes are caused by the hand of a woman?

Dolores looks at me with disgust while zampa a cake in a quarter of a second. Just the one I had in view. The damned.

This reminds me a reproachful look that is sometimes Eduardo, one of my best friends, since I have few friends but that if it is large. Eduardo is among those who are involved in this conspiracy of . Another absurdity large as the pyramid of Khufu because of my conspiracy theory that makes sense only on this earth is life itself. Somebody played a bad joke installed on this planet. Expected to take and you'll see.

I said, that the conspiracy has me sick . Those who are involved in this kind of intellectualism not stop. That if this or that, if this attack and the other that if the New World Order, that if the Bilderberg , that if men ... Harta reptiles is not the right word, rather disgusted. As complicated like life. With how happy one can be alone with a good book dealing with the First World War and a good tazoncito area. With that I forget even my own existence. Eduardo dares to call me at 3 am, dares to catch me in battle of Verdun, dares to say that President Bush is an Anunnaki and that Obama probably is but that is not very well sure, it lacks evidence.

- And this terrible determination, Eduardo dear friend, I guess it keeps you awake at night is not it?

- Exactly. Luckily there are good friends who understand everything.

- Eduardo, I've caught in the middle of deadly carnage of Verdun, between February 21 and 19 December 1916 just when Philippe Pétain is scratching his chin wondering if it's worth much dead for just a bit, say bit, ground ... but not if you know this battle has killed 250 000 people do you know?

- As I will not know if I've said more than 500 times.

- That's it.

- But you do not realize that the Anunnaki want our extermination?

- Edward, dear friend brave man who dares interrupt me at three in the morning ... let me tell you and we are all dead. Kaputt. Finito. We have all lost at Verdun a rainy morning. And enough of such nonsense.

I think this morning I hung up I'm not sure. Although this does not prevent Eduardo to call when you want to. Again and again, no matter the day or month. is an ingrate. Such are the conspiracy, a species that is taking place but by force of punches and a lot of chutzpah. So where will we get, God only knows.

The closing and opening time eye and is not a single cupcake on a plate that my aunt left us on the oak table. Surrounding this table one day we remember Ouija. But that's another story.

When it's time to go and it is night. My aunt wants me to stay, if I have to insist that my dogs and my cats do not give me any permission to stay overnight away from home because I have very controlled. Before leaving my aunt forced me to go and say hello to Nemesis, Pandora and Frankenstein that during the meeting area have been locked in another room because Adelaide is allergic cats, as bad witch to be. My you always gives me a bag with a roll in a tea that will surely be great, more than it has given us this afternoon. I'm always very happy because I know that at night I can make a good tea, tasty and delicious, surrounded by my dogs and cats and with a good book for company. To ask for more from life!