Noisemakers For Cheerleading Competition

The Night Comes On

I went down to the place
Where I knew she lay waiting
Under the marble and the snow
I said, Mother I'm frightened
The thunder and the lightning
I'll never come through this alone
She said, I'll be with you
My shawl wrapped around you
My hand on your head when you go
And the night came on
It was very calm
I wanted the night to go on and on
But she said, Go back to the World
[...]

Is it a coincidence that the new year begins with a song most of Leonard Cohen? He describes himself as a sort of autobiographical journey, evoking people that have marked his life, by their absence as by their presence:

- Sa mother (who died when he was 34 years old), representing the ever-present protection beyond death, and who, by his insistence on keeping him alive.

- Her father (who died when he was only nine years), representing the struggle of life without respite.

- Marriage and the responsibility of children, including when they "fly on their own."

- The "muse" who inspires the poet and singer, and represents the essence of femininity in its various forms and with different faces.

- The entourage and friends, who make up our "world" and we hold but can not make us forget what is past and gone, what is lost is lost.

- And the poet, singer, in his way, trying to go back or to "pass on the other side", but the maternal image, patiently, resolutely, returns to "the world" and, thus, continues to protect (including itself).

the first day of new year it is useful to rethink and to those who have left us (or preceded), but whose thinking continues to protect us and guide us.

Night Occurs

where I stayed I knew that, under the stone
And the snow, waiting
I said "Mother, I I fear any
Lightning and thunder
Alone, I never leave never
She says "I'll be there
My
shawl around you My hand on your head will follow you" And the night came

Everything was quiet
I wish the night is endless
But she said "Go back to the World"

In Egypt, we were fighting
When they promised by treaty
That nothing would be killed
Then came the explosion
And my father fell
A terrible wound to his side
He said, "My son, go ahead
Take my books, my gun
Remembers you as they lied And the night comes

All is quiet
J ' shall be much wanted him to be wrong, however
We would not lie to a kid

In this kitchen, we remain
I entered into religion
Not knowing when to rest (e) would
So I had
Having nothing to touch
It 's that I always wanted
But then my son and my daughter
Leaving water
themselves hoarse, "Daddy, you promised to play" And they carry me

and say "That's the big surprise
Do not look, daddy, eyes closed"
And they hide, hide in the World

And I always looking
Caught this attraction
As a rosary prayer
Saying "When she calls me?
When I return she?
To be ready, what should I do about my vow
When she tilts
Like a willow, like a fountain?
She stands in the light air And the night comes

And everything is very quiet
I'm in her arms, she said, "When I s (e) rai
Part I s (e) spoke to you to sing "

For vespers, crickets
Respond to chime
The cat on her chair, dozing
Go to a local bar
I 'can go further
See if there are still my friends
That the few people who
You forgive or for whom
What you do is not a concern And the night comes

All is quiet
I want to join the other side
But she said, "Go, go, back in the World

(Translation - Adaptation: Polyphrène)

Cost Of Pint In Krakow

Jimmy Whalen

All alone as I Walked By The Banks of the River
Watching the evening drew nigh have Moonbeams.
All alone as I rambled I spied a fair damsel
weepin 'and Wailin' With Many a sigh.

weepin 'for One Who is now lyin' lonely
Mournin 'for No One Who Can Save mortal. As
The foaming dark waters flowed sadly ABOUT HIM THEY
Onward speed over young Jimmy's grave.
[...]

Here is a Canadian folk song telling the story of a lumberjack (or "log driver" accompanying "rafts" down with the current) killed in a river. This is the version sung by Peter, Paul & Mary (Adaptation and Arrangements by Peter Yarrow, Noel Paul Stookey, Mary Travers, and Milton T Okun) which I propose the translation. The history of this song back in the 19th century, the author remains unknown. The text is sung to different melodies, but the version of Peter, Paul and Mary is simply sublime in its simplicity.

Jimmy Whalen

Only one evening as I walked to the edge of the wave
From the river the moon shone
Only one evening, I walked, I saw a
blonde girl cries, moaning, sighing Crying

who now lies
only one who is forever asleep
While around him roared the waves foaming
Covering the grave of poor

Jimmy Jimmy, do let me not stray
pain Why do not you stay with me?
But if death is the sword that we must separate
The ocean lies between you and me

Only one evening, I walked, I saw a blonde girl
cries, moaning, sighing

(Translation - Adaptation: Polyphrène)

Fly Deck Shimano Sora

That's what you get for lovin' me

That's what you get for lovin' me
That's what you get for lovin' me
Everything you had is gone, as you can see
That's what you get for lovin' me.

I ain't the kind to hang around
With any new love that I've found
Movin' is my stock in trade
I'm movin on
I won't think of you when I'm gone.
[...]

This song Gordon Lightfoot was repeated with great success by Elvis Presley, but was also sung by Waylon Jennings and Peter, Paul and Mary. It includes the ultra-classic theme of the adventurer seducer and destroyer of hearts, for whom the call of the horizon is stronger than reason: a myth is "masculine" serial polygamy, which, failing to advance relations man - woman, was used to frame a few famous songs. This is an opportunity to mention again the masterful "I do not think ... " of Smokie .

is what you earn to love me!

That 's say you win to love
That' s say you win to love
You have lost everything, you see, because now
That 's you earn to love

I 'am not the type to always
Stay with the same love
Leaving is my goodwill
I will leave
party soon, I'll forget

For me, do not pay
tears I'm not made for your heart
I got over a hundred comm 'you
Do not worry
I will have more miles after you

Voilà: you'll still cry
Voilà: you'll still cry
If one day the state your heart is
Improved
Maybe I'll come back

That 's you earn to love
That 's say you win to love
You have lost everything, you see, because now
That' s say you win to love

(Translation - Adaptation: Polyphrène)

Letter Asking Contributions For Coworkers Wedding

The Last Thing on my Mind

It's a lesson too Late for the learnin '
Made of sand, made of sand
In the Wink of an eye my soul IS turnin '
In your hand, in your hand.

[Chorus:]
Are you going Away With No word of farewell?
Will There Be not a trace left behind?
Well, I Could Have Loved You Better,
Did not Mean To Be unkind.
You Know That Was The Last Thing On My Mind.
[...]

Song Tom Paxton, a melody similar to that of the traditional ballad of the British Isles " Leaving of Liverpool The Last Thing On My Mind "was sung beautifully by Peter, Paul and Mary, by Dolly Parton, by Joan Baez, Johnny Cash, Neil Diamond, Hank Locklin, Anne Muray, Willie Nelson ... to name only the most famous - but also by Nana Mouskouri and Joe Dassin. If "Leaving of Liverpool" is a standard "Line Dance" well known to all clubs and groups of "Country," "The Last Thing On My Mind" gives the melody more solemnity, and in fact a true "classic "timeless and universal. ","

The theme is still that of departure, separation, misunderstanding, an echo of "Always on my Mind "on the bottom of the time lag as the fine sand in an hourglass ...

When the hourglass is turned over, it does not rise over time, unfortunately!

The Last Thoughts of my

This lesson comes too late to learn
Fine sand, fine sand
In the blink of an eye, my soul turns and s 'collapse
In your hand in your hand

[Chorus:]
Are you really going away without saying a word of farewell?
Without a memory to leave me? It
True, I could love you better
Yes, but will hurt you
It was the last of my thoughts

You have so many good reasons to go
I know that, I know this because the weeds
has continued to invade any
Do not go, do not go

[Chorus]

walked, my thoughts, in single file
Font round, make round
Under our feet, in the subway tunnel
Vibe and growls, rumbles and vibrates

[Chorus]

When I woke in my bed in the morning
alone without you, lonely without you
Each song in my throat goes alone without
toi, seul sans toi

[Refrain]

Traduction – Adaptation : Polyphrène

Charlotte Nc Gay Bars

It there is no bad time to look back

is a turbulent year that we close behind us. But a very good year. A year of a whole bunch of things, all these little things that are smiling and the normal daily, and also those big painful crises to which side it is difficult to pass. Children grow up, each develops its (double) personality. Everyone learns, and we learn along with them, we all make mistakes. This is improv, the approximation is not always comfortable, we do not really know where we go, but here we go. It surprised almost every day. Sometimes bad, sometimes good. When it is good we give ourselves pats on the back, when it is bad you wonder how we could get there. Things come and go, jostle each other and finally leave us little time to react, and it is like that. Each is built on these faults, avoidable or not. They are part of us, and also that we are moving forward.

A year of learning, travel, loss and rediscovery. A year colored by strong seasonal projects completed, others are emerging, professional achievements and policy challenges. A year not knowing which way to head it. One year I saw my children permanently abandon the age of small, rounded their babies, and to turn resolutely towards childhood, his questionings, his discoveries, obstacles, too.

Ms. Marshal brought joy to all teachers / educators / speakers she meets - wise, thoughtful, caring for others, reminding them that they must follow the instructions. Good student, never a word louder than the other kind. And yet she knows what she wants, knows who his friend (s), do not let them tell. She leads her boat, as it has always been independent, he happens to slip into a mold so remarkable at the same time it leaves nothing of his free will and independence of mind. A real cat, before whom I admire silent despite appearances - because you say it mania to perfection the art of annoy his neighbor. Increasingly clever with words, looks, turns of phrase. She seems very well accept the idea of a new baby, just talk to him often, give hugs, tells me what he whispers in your ear. Very time consuming, but very endearing.

My Young Turkey seeks and tries, testing the limits in a somewhat haphazard. The child reasonable, playful, gentle, laughing as I know at home is a little overbearing boss, rebellious, disobedient and defiant in the classroom. The mistress velvet-granola is a bit overwhelmed, especially to see his gentle methods do not work here. Quite a culture shock to be told that during a temper, we work to calm down with pictograms Flower (breathe in the fresh scent) and pen (for that blow flies) ... We are experimenting with gaps and inaccuracies in an education system that we do not know, especially in regard to boys. Another system would reveal other problems ... During the violin like him, who practices at least almost always end up in crisis of tears - when they do not start with an anxiety attack. And yet he seems to like to know something special - and more difficult - and do it well - and to show others. We all been there, the envy of release, smashing the violin against the wall, or clarinet, or piano, and go somewhere else if there is. He must learn to live with - and we must learn to support, encourage her to face the challenge rather than avoid it. All without getting discouraged ...

course is when children do not work quite the way we imagined, and is expected of them, we will return the most relevant. Are we too absent, busy with our work and the other volunteers / activists? About Us too demanding (His Eminence)? Not enough (me)? Children will always find some balance, but will grow crooked ...? And our balance to us, how? What dose of what to remove or add? Uninterrupted series of brief questions - I guess normal parents.

And then the little man or little woman who is coming in a few weeks will fit into this family perfectly normal and dysfunctional, and we look forward to. It hits a lot, it squirms, hiccups it 15 times a day and lives his life in the warmth. Conscious of my luck, and aware that this will probably be the last time I want to remember the gentle, quiet expectation, joy - pure and unwavering. I want to keep track of this ear turned inward, this state a little ethereal, a little also, somewhat privileged, these unanswered questions at any time of day, large and small, anxious or confident, as the time and the fatigue that accompanies it. These eyes softened, and other hostile or ignorant of all these people who do not rise more in the bus or subway, and the few treasures that make catching and their congeners. My eternal perplexity to these girls at the sight of a belly, launch immediately into the detailed history of their own pregnancies, their deliveries, all that to me is a fundamental part of the intimacy of a couple, and that feels empowered to spread happiness with a non- concealed, that of confidence about the tone of "the one who knows" ...

Women Topless On Tractors

My kids talk to me (47)

Okay so I told you the other day I try jokes playground with children, to see what they are capable of wrestling. The other day I retry that of Pinchy and Pinch me. Since they are dipping yet, Pete and Repeat I run, and there it works (well, I must explain to them why I spend my time to repeat history, but they eventually dip)

I return to Pinchy and Pinch me.

- So: Pinchy and Pinc ---

(Ms. Marschallin) - NAON! Mom! It MOUA telling!

- Ok. Go ahead make me the joke. You understand, it's like Pete and Repeat but with Pinchy and Pinch Me.

- Uh. Good. Uh. So: Pinchy, uh, and uh, Pinch me are, um, in a boat. What's missing?! Warfahahahahhaahaaaaa!

Xbox Hdmi Lead Won't Work

Leaving Green Sleeves

Alas, my love, you did me wrong,
To cast me out discourteously,
For I have loved you so long,
Delighting in your very company.
Now if you intend to show me disdain,
Don't you know it all the more enraptures me,
For even so I still remain
Your lover in captivity.

Green sleeves, you're all alone,
The leaves have fallen, The Men Have Gone.
Green sleeves, There's no one home,
Not even the Lady Green Sleeves
[...]

Leonard Cohen resumed by the famous theme song "Greensleeves " ballad apparently dating from the sixteenth century and wrongly attributed the legend of King Henry VIII. If you get lost in conjecture and assumptions on the deeper meaning of the text and the identity lady's "green sleeves" (as the significance of this detail dress), traditional melody has survived the centuries and will probably continue its path beyond the millennium.

Respecting or by thickening the mystery, Leonard Cohen accentuates the eroticism and despair, in a mixture - both subtle and magical than the love potions of the legend - which he has secret. The passage of time causing the lovers or courtiers, old age, the desertion of hearts, the withering away of passion, forgetting ... are among the ingredients.

The melody of Leonard Cohen also retains a kind of solemnity, but his voice is heartbreaking and disturbing accents that make this song complement inseparable from the traditional ballad.

Leaving "Green-sleeves"

Alas, love did me wrong digress
In Violent Car
I loved you so much
delight myself in your presence
If you want me to show contempt
See, my desire is that the more excited
Because I live, and even your lover in captivity


Green-sleeves, you're only here
Leaves dead men
Sleeve-Green parties, as all desert Even
gente Dame-Green Sleeves I sang

I patter
For your legs beautiful
And is not it crazy, is not well
Let our antics come to an end Finally?
Then I saw you naked when dawn ignites
I was hoping that this is a new woman
I called but you were part
Then, my Lady, I am leaving also

Sleeve-Green, you're only here ...

Green-sleeves, you're only here
Leaves dead men left
-Green Sleeves, it's so easy
leaving the Lady Green Sleeves-

(Translation - Adaptation: Polyphrène)

Theatre Seating Template

My kids talk to me (46)

Seeing a flag blue and white diamonds:

(poults) - It is the flag of the Bavi * era. Mom is the office where she works.

(Ms. Marschallin) - Yes, and the B * avier is not good for children.

(His Eminence) - Huh?

(Ms. Marschallin) - Yes, Bavaria * re is bad for children. They must not drink, and after it stings you're drunk.

Lump On Neck Sore Throat Hurts To Swallow

Memories

Frankie Lane, he WAS singing Jezebel I pinned
year Iron Cross to my lapel
I Walked up to The Tallest Girl And The Blondest
I Said, Look, you do not know me very soon now to You Will
So Will not You Let Me See
I Said "Will not you let me see"
I Said "Will not you let me see
Your naked body?"
[...]

On a very fast dance and a bit unexpected from Leonard Cohen, this song (words and music of Leonard Cohen , arrangements Phil Spector ) recounts a memory of "drag" Teenager in a box while passing the song Wayne Shanklin " Jezebel", popularized in English by Frankie Laine , and France by Charles Aznavour and Edith Piaf. Inspired by the biblical character, the song "Jezebel evokes the consuming passion for a woman whose irresistible attraction lies a devilish soul. Leonard Cohen song described her as a "time capsule" in which he placed the memories of the episode the most banal and most insignificant of his teenage spotty ... by adding humorously that this is probably a commonplace this song will be eternal. The "Cross of Iron", German military decoration, known as "Cross of Prussia," was then a symbol worn by the "hard" or those who wanted to pass for such. He also remembers the fascination of this cult and he vowed then (already) to femininity, "the elusive butterfly."


Memories

We played "Jezebel" by Frankie Laine
In my backhand, I put a Prussian Cross
The largest and most blonde girls
I approached I said " You don 't know me but it does not go now "
So you let me see"
I said "So you let me see" I
said "So you let me see Your naked body
? "

" Towards a corner of shadow dance with me
I may let thee do anything
I know you greedy, I hear it in your voice
And there is much to touch on my body: you have the choice
But you can not see "
She says" You can not see "
She says" You can not see My naked body
"

We dance, tight, Stardust on the orchestra plays
Balloons and streamers floating above us
She says "More than a minute to fall in love"
"It is such moments I call all my wishes
And all my faith to see "
I said" All my faith to see "
I said" All my faith to see Her naked body
"



(Translation - Adaptation: Polyphrène)

Herbal Apothecary Shop

My kids talk to me (45) 7 months

First snowstorm of the winter, 25 cm of a sudden. The city is white, slow, silent. Beautiful as we love winter, just like what we like Quebec.

We came back from violin lessons with the Young Turkey. Her sister Mimi is far Cracra (water-aimeuh it-it), as it is the Snow her element. He runs, jumps, falls, rises again all white, loses balance, stretches, bursts out laughing, flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes.

At one point we stopped at an intersection to wait for our light. Like many cars pass, cautious in the thick layer that makes them slip, I do note that we do not hear almost nothing and that's what is so beautiful in snow storms.

- You see, we say that the snow * * absorbs noise. That means she swallows them, one hears less. You remember how it's noisy when it rains? Rain multiplies the noise, the snow absorbs.

- Hmm.

- Besides the snow is too good to keep out the cold: if you plug a hole where the wind with a thick layer of snow, there was more air flow.

- Hmm. (I feel it tramples on the other side there is a vast expanse along the pristine community garden)

- While the snow has several powers: it has power absorbing and insulating power . You understand?

- Hmm. Yes. And also fun !

Nordic Walking Gloves

is look in the mirror and say at the same time "but good god it's not possible to be as big ", and" when I think I am still swollen "

It is sitting comfortably somewhere and see what you used to walking on his own belly (I do not think any of the 2 previous did not move at this point). It put his hands to try to guess, and he has already seen quite a character to consistently stop when he feels that approach.

is suffering the torture of a full bladder on which one you would a vase made of china, especially between the bed and the toilet in the morning.

is woken up by a contraction in the night sick, and because it is side the gray hour when everything is always dramatic, whether that's it, you're not on the edge of a large lay premature.

is listening to children asking questions on "when your baby will come out" - is that it will be cute, do you help me to keep it, are we going love, is he going to be very small like that * well * ...

is taking a lot of good resolutions - now I put the kids' room, clean the stove, scours the glass of the shower - and the day after all the skunk on the principle "after all, I'm pregnant, do not bother to exaggerate, like what's in the fridge? ".

is delighted with this amazing opportunity to be at the heart of a close family but also with a group of friends who saw all this with you as for the 2 previous each time we were in a new environment and therefore a bit bent on ourselves.

is simultaneously being tickled by a lot of doubts, it is we'll get there, do * not * the madness will end this happy light, and then begin where do we will sleep, and even n'abordons not the hot topic of the center.

is undergoing hiccups another person in places unmentionable Trouz about a thousand times a day and nothing to do there. It

have difficulty standing for long periods on the bus because of cramps, sudden movements of drivers, people that grow in your back while you are resting on a bar of some sort. And say that frankly, pregnancy in winter while your cloak hides your advantageously forms is not ideal to recall the rules of etiquette to your peers. So it is regularly being looked over when required place on the bus or the subway, because we still need to spoof not either. (Worst, it is women aged 40-50 years)

It is said that this time, of course, be remembered at all. And sorry in advance, in fact, no, it will be like the others will be forgotten, and only fleeting impressions come back from time to time.

is watching the snow storm outside and having to make a conscious effort to remember to go shovel.

is to say that frankly, 3, it will be quite enough, between the food, homework, activities, husband, home, friends, work, volunteering. And bind itself to mark it somewhere because we suspect that at one point, when the little Troize will survive the 2-3 years and that everything will be easier again, we will dream of a small Fourth, a "last" baby ... that will grow as ... and make room for one more wish ...


At 7 months pregnant lots of things, ideas and feelings are scrambling for weeks, and at the same time full of things find their place and are settled by themselves (come on, we will not keep still that, that we hitch, hop directly into the garbage), lose their importance as if by magic, or take the place due to them (okay eventually have to buy it, the damn dryer). At 7 months, I am pleased as always to have the privilege of living pregnancy easier, and at the same time I begin to say good-to-be not blister it also has its advantages (not feeling hénaurme properly, especially when one has to pick up something on the ground or seeing his reflection in a window) and it will be fine when it's over.

Health Risks With Dishwasher Rinse Aid

First

(ticket writing mode Fiertématernelle, forgive me)

This afternoon premiere: Sonny in concert.

Not even 3 months course and plays "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" with his dad at the piano. Fair and everything. Rhythm is not always question it, but otherwise it's really encouraging. And perhaps my blindness of mother but I can not find it nearly as squeaking what a lot of people told me.

For the occasion the man was too happy to (finally) deliver his "costume President", ie dark jacket and trousers and matching shirt "like Daddy", striped tie to boot. (The same suit he absolutely wanted to wear the day of his class photo: I say when he will look in 10 years, there is every chance that shame the invasion. But hey, it ' was HIS choice.) It was classy as ever, more than all the other children present, it is useful to say, ahem. And luck, who has inherited yet maternal gut, it seemed absolutely not bothered by any stomachache, stress or anxiety. Instead, it is as if he had done this all his life.

I hope now that this kind of deadlines (I think there will be another year-end) will motivate me as he assured leaving "You know Mom, next time I will also play Hänschen Klein (and others! have I hastened to add, you have to seize those moments when they come eh). Because I have to admit that the panic-anxiety attack almost systematic practice in the evening before me despair a little of both. And yes, probably I have a responsibility and I ask him too much, or too much at once ... I am demanding, not only with myself. I lose it I know. But with a little luck, before we have succeeded in giving him a taste of the effort: it's still a nice reward to get applause from a room filled to overflowing when we have 6 years.

Emu Stinger Emu Bronte

A Poem on the Underground Wall

The Last Train Is Nearly due
The Underground IS closing soon,
And in the dark deserted station, Restless
in advance ,
A man waits in the shadows.

His restless eyes leap and snatch,
At all optometrist Cdn touch gold wrestling
Hidden Deep Within And His Pockets,
Safe Within icts silent socket, He Holds
a colored pencil. [...]

Art Garfunkel tells how, at the end of a photo shoot in New York City subway to illustrate the cover of the album "Wednesday Morning 3 AM , "he saw on the wall facing the subway which had been made shots, graffiti directly suggestive, in the style of taggers New York, including a 4-letter word (F ...) very explicitly shown. Naturally, the "Columbia" which produced this album has ensured that the graffiti does not appear on the cover, but the incident inspired Paul Simon this song, found on several albums (including " Simon & Garfunkel - Parsley, Sage, Rosemary and Thyme "and" The Very Best Of Art Garfunkel Across America ).
The pace of this song still retains the excitement and fear that animate the spirit of "graffiti artist" getting ready to affix his mark on subway posters. The text plays on an element of mystery and anticipation, but also an allegory "matrix", comparing the arrival of the subway train in childbirth, the subway itself to the child who appears well on the Assistant husband at work, then the leak of "graffiti " as "head" by night who aspires to the "womb" of the penumbra.

A Poem on the Subway Walls

This is the ultimate train set, and
The subway will soon close
And in the station deserted
anticipation stirred
He waits in the shadows

His keen eye lands on
Anything seized or captured
And in the pocket of his coat
Hidden deep in his sleeve
He holds a colored chalk Now the tunnel

birth
And the train approach promised
doors welcoming the aspiring
But he hesitated, and withdrew
Later in the penumbra

Suddenly, the train left here
In a nice knock
Although chanted as a litany
He shakes like a rosary blessed
His chalk in his hand

Then from his pocket, chalk on the wall emerges
trace In full with energy
advertising
A poem of one word, five letters A limited


His heart laughs, cries her heart, her heart leapt
And his poem on the tracks, sounds
Sub signal 'exit shining
His legs prevail and he fled
Towards the heart of darkness, as suckled by the night.

(Translation - Adaptation: Polyphrène)

Bay Eagle Metal Core Wheels

Fatigue fickle companion

For days, she takes away, cowering in a corner looking at me probably go. So I feel I can do everything, to have the upper hand over the mess surrounding domestic, to be stronger and faster than him. I put to use every moment, I scoured the sink while a child takes a shower, I empty the dishwasher while it's the turn of the second. I clean the utensils and stores the kitchen while I cook dinner, peel the carrots and let the son practicing his violin before going to pick up the clothes dry tancarville. Fatigue is far - it is there, but impalpable, she catches up once the kids to bed, but let me carry my boat in the meantime.

And then without warning the day after she terrace. It falls on me like a leaden, sticky, sticky, immobilizing. Each step is an effort to make each decision, however slight, is an insurmountable mountain. I even more energy to recall the instructions to the children - we do not run, wipe your hands, tidy your room, talking on a different tone. When I allow myself 30 minutes of break, saying it will get better after that, in reality things are not better at all, I look at my watch after the half hour and curse myself for having wasted so much time. Besides the half-hour turns often in a couple of hours well packed, which plowed furrows of my bad conscience even deeper.

When fatigue left me, I have a wonderful sense of lightness. When fatigue caught up with me, I feel heavy, useless, incompetent. She pointed out the cobwebs I have not destroyed in the corners, the fat that I have not cleaned the kitchen cabinets, broom that I have not spent under the table and the dirty clothes lying on the floor ... by making all these little things precipices where I'd rather not even throw me. Instead, I despair of being so easily overwhelmed, without trying anything else.

Tonight was a night like this. Sitting in the bus I was fighting against sleep. Arrive at school we have more than 30 minutes to emerge between the humor of the one disappointment of the other (and we do not ask me why), inertia Maternal and cosmonaut suits to collect. The return route stretched in length, peeling onions sitting in the hallway human falling turned into a struggle against an enemy soft gray, ubiquitous, suffocating. I managed to empty the bags, hang coats and put the rest to dry in a sort of fog, before collapsing.

fatigue goes, just fatigue. Tonight she was there, whimsical fifth family member. Tonight the prospect that one day it will happen very far away to live at 6 seems insurmountable.

6co2 12h2o Light Energy> C6h1206 6h2o 6o2

America

Let Us Be Lovers, we'll marry o fortunes together I've got some
real estate here in my bag
So We Bought A Pack of cigarettes and Mrs.. Wagner's pies
And We Walked off to look for America
[...]

Among the songs sung by Paul Simon and Art Garfunkel, "America " n is not the most popular or the one that had the greatest success, then it is most notable for the poetic, evocative power, and the melodic quality. One perceives in the words exchanged between passengers en route to New York, all the emotion, shame and anxiety of young lovers. Tentatively, they mimic the children they believe no longer, and hold their hands when their souls are looking for. Parties "discover" America, they meet their dual solitude and fragility of their hopes.
It emerges from this song ( inspired, apparently, the autobiography of Paul Simon ) an infinite tenderness for this stage of life where the hearts are their first steps, and a great nostalgia, fueled by precise evocations of a certain "American" (Mrs. Wagner's pies, Saginaw, Michigan, the highway to New York's buses "Greyhound" ...).


America

Let our two lovers and fortunes will be married in my bag I
real estate securities
We ach'té cigarettes
And some tarts
And went out to discover America

All riding in a bus in Pittsburgh, I said "Cathy
Michigan seems like a dream seen by
Four days to hitchhike from Saginaw I
it took me just to discover America"

To laughter, trip, jokingly

on the faces She said the man in black coat was a spy I said
" He hides a camera in his bow tie "

" Pass me a cigarette, I think there's one in the Mac "
" We smoked earlier last "I looked
the scenery, she read a magazine
In the moonlight the fields of sight

"I'm lost," I said to Cathy, who was sleeping beside me
"I'm gutted I'm in pain without knowing why"
On the road to New Jersey traffic counting
They are all here to discover America All
here to discover America

On the road to New Jersey, Cash Traffic
They are all here to discover America All
here to discover America

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WITHOUT YOU I'M NOTHING

- Jn 15: 5 I am the vine And you are the branches, whoever remains in me and I in him, that one

bears much fruit, for apart from Me you can do anything.
The lyrics of the song "Without you I am nothing" watch the video in webcam.

· I bow before you, I abandon myself in your arms Lord, without you I am nothing.
· By what name do I call you? Oh, God, Almighty
· By what name do I call you? O my king Almighty

· My shelter, my savior, my shepherd, my rock, my fortress, my shield

· You are in me, I am in you, the Lamb of God, my protector

· You are in me, I am in you, the Lamb of God my deliverer

· Oh hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah

· A lucky star above me, thou Jesus is you Jesus, thou Jesus.

· I fear nothing because you are in me, a God who protects a liberating God

· You lavish comfort me when I'm without force

· When I'm tired, you give me the strength, the Lamb of God reigns forever.

· Oh hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah

· In your sanctuary, I think

· I am like a drunken man, as someone has tamed the wine

· Because of you, your holy words

· I fear nothing, I fear nothing, because you are in me, and I am in you

· Wherever I am Lord, you are there in my sleep, I wake up, you're here

· In the car, bus, subway, train with me always

· When I need solace, need affection, need love, you're here, Lord

· In hard times, the moment of despair, loneliness, you're always there

· Even when I am embroiled in a bad way, for your mind, you give me a chance and you forgive me again

· kingdom forever, forever Lord.

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No Other Name

Know Me By the Light of a fire shinin 'bright,
Know me by your bed where i' ve lain
Know me, and You Might,
If just for a night
You'll know me by No Other Name.
[...]

dark and mysterious song, Noel Paul Stookey of , beautifully sung by " Peter, Paul & Mary " on the theme of loneliness and anonymity of one who "has no name" that misery, no country other than wandering, no other destiny than abandonment.


No other name

Look me in the light of a home that shines
Look me in the bed where we slept
See me as I am
Just for one night only you will know
not my name

Other girls offer you a Tiara
Others offer valuable works
Others say "I love you" Others
my face

Other offer gold
(A) sleeping baby
I offer qu'affliction
You see me, you can guess,
In the lee of hills
You will not know my name

Others die for of currency
Others die for love
Others die as they were born
Other dying every day

Alone I die far from my home

Without answers to your questions
The stone on my head Do
tell a date
She will not know my name
She will not know my name

(Translation - Adaptation: Polyphrène)

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Sparrow

Who will love a little sparrow, Who's
Travelled far, and cries for rest?
"Not I," Said The oak tree.
"I will not share my branches With No sparrow's nest;
And my blanket of leaves Will not warm cold Her breast."

One might think that this is a traditional song, which would have through the centuries to reach us, on a melody that age would routed to perfection. It is actually a work Paul Simon, sung in duet with sublime Art Garfunkel . Of course, the theme of "cruel world" is classic, but this poem goes further, listing the flimsy pretexts of indifference to the suffering of others, and the cynicism of what some call "The Natural Law." The last verse is a quotation from the words of Genesis (3.19) , delivered at the ceremony of the branches: "You are dust and to dust you shall return." This is one of the consequences of original sin: man will "earn his bread the sweat of his brow, "the woman" give birth in pain ", etc.. All this to have "heard the voice of (the) woman." It does not quite measure to what extent this vision has permeated what we call our "culture" and our "values." The Christian religion is, moreover, not only to convey such ideas, which are based on so many prejudices and injustices.
The world would be better yet if we all work together to address the ills we face, whether natural ("natural disasters"!) Or created by man himself. This would also probably better if we listened more often women's voices:
example, that of Aung Sann Suu Kyi , which has finally been released!


The Sparrow

Who will love a little sparrow
Exhausted by his long journey?
"Not me" said the tall oak
"No bird's nest in my beautiful branches.
It will not heat up under my leaves "

Who will love a little sparrow And
speak to him nicely?
"Not me" said the swan.
Y think is just outrageous. The other swans
laugh at me, contemptuous "

And whoever will take pity And
feed starving sparrow?
"Not me" said the golden wheat
"I'd love to, but I never can.
My whole grain must be sown to germinate "

Who will love a little sparrow And
write his epitaph?
"It's me," said Earth
"For everything I've created comes back to me.
From dust you are made, dust thou shalt "

(Translation - Adaptation: Polyphrène)

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The Guests

One by one, The Guests arrive
The guests are coming-through
The open-hearted many
The broken-hearted few
And no one knows where the night is going
And no one knows why the wine is flowing
Oh love, I need you
I need you
I need you
I need you
Oh, I need you now

Bien que dominée par une forme d’onirisme mystique et eschatologique, cette chanson, est, selon Léonard Cohen lui-même, inspirée des écrits d’un poète persan du 13ème siècle . It expresses the feelings, buried deep in our soul, a longing, an aspiration that we can not discern the object. Sometimes - rarely - a door opens our minds for a moment and thought he noticed in a flood of light, the very purpose of this expectation. In the works of this poet, it is symbolized by a banquet that would bring souls to their master's table (or Creator?). The words employed by Leonard Cohen here allow mystical to see the "Last Judgement" by which "elected" will go and sit at the right hand of the master, echoing an evocation of the Last Supper. The others may stay in a more literal interpretation, holding that need love and proclaims that fusional hammered Leonard Cohen ( Love Oh, I need you ... ). All, however, recognize the brilliance of this strange feeling and transcendent, from time to time, pierces the heart.

Hosts

One by one, guests advance
Guests are entering
Many hearts confidence
Some victims
hearts And nobody knows where the night goes And nobody knows
why wine flows
Love, I want you I want you

I want you I want you

Oh, I want you, there

And those who dance between dance Those who weep
implore
"Come in, my hosts' a voice lance
"Do not stay outside"

And nobody knows ... And everyone will

, tottering around
confined
Secretly Saying "Reveal yourself, or
" Why hast thou forsaken ? "

And nobody knows ...

Then shine the torches
opens the back door
One by one, they cross
In all forms of passion

And nobody knows ...

And while they take their feast
walls melt suddenly
Guests are thrown one by one
Outside the garden

And no one knows ...

Those who dance come dance Those who mourn

implore those who are hopeless
Getting lost and losing still

And no one knows ...

One by one, guests advance
Guests are entering
Many hearts confidence
Some victims

hearts And nobody knows ...

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Patterns

The night sets softly
With The hush of falling leaves, Casting shivering shadows

On the House Through the Trees,
And the light from a street lamp Paints
pattern on my wall,
Like the pieces of a puzzle
Golden child's Uneven scrawl
[...]

Text troubling, almost disturbing, to Paul Simon , referring to the little control we can have on the course of our lives. It is not a simplistic or fatalistic the "destiny", but "ingredients" of who we are and the context in which we operate. Paul Simon compares the path we are following the labyrinth in which one puts the rats (for the study of learning, memory, and packaging). Our desires, our fears, our reactions are predictable and, if we happen to correct our behavior is, as the laboratory rat, by "negative conditioning", where the same error has several times faced the same penalty. Free choices and we know are possible, of course, when for example, in restaurants, we have to choose between dessert and cheese ... but that does not go much further. Oscar Wilde said "I can resist everything except temptation ..." and virtue is sometimes only after a confrontation between fear and desire, where the former prevails or the latter fades. Often, the number and complexity of influences more or less contradictory pressures on us can go for the unexpected expression of freedom when it is only a "deterministic chaos". Some have come to be the goal achieved a form of serenity by repealing desires. Yet these are the main driver of our actions - the best and worst. Pursue happiness is to accept the possibility of suffering. Give up one for fear of others is a way to withdraw from life. Running in the labyrinth is not really the solution. What to do? There is no solution - a miracle ... but when the rat reaches the maze is that his memory allowed him to recognize the ways he has already traveled, and to prefer others to run towards new errors - and a way out.



Patterns

When nightfall
Without sound like a dead leaf
Casts Shadow scrapie
Large trees on my door
The light of a lamppost
Draw a diagram to the white wall
Like a puzzle mystery
Or the scribbles of a child

top of a staircase
In my little tiny room
I lie on my bed, and
At the twilight
On the white wall fits
What my eyes follows: The scheme

my life And the puzzle that I am

I must, as soon as I was born
Until the day I die On
this scheme
walk As I'm breathing
As the maze the rat
My way is before me And

not change the schema at the death of rat

In the shadow thickens
The diagram I have follow
Rest and rightly so
For in the shadows I live
Like the color of my skin
Or the day of my death
My life is made of diagrams
What I do not control

(Translation - Adaptation: Polyphrène)

PS: I have encountered great difficulties in translating this song. "Roadmap" is not the best translation of "Pattern" but apart from the constraints of rhyme, I preferred to avoid other terms (such as "Patron") whose connotations are different. The point here is "Roadmap" as a series of predetermined paths, and often repetitive.

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My kids talk to me (44)

Sometimes I make small tests to see if the Turkey is ripe for jokes in the schoolyard. The other day it was Mr. and Mrs. Térieur, it was flop. Tonight I try my hand easier.

- Hey man, do you know the history and Pincemi Pincemoi?

- Uh, no.

- So Pincemi Pincemoi and are in a boat. Pincemi falls into the water. Who else?

- Uh.

- Who stays in the boat if Pincemi fell?

- Uh.

- ...

- Two!?



BienBienBien. Either it's too French, or the capacity for abstraction is not * quite * there.

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What I love children

is their sense of appropriateness.

Like this morning.

Ms. Marshal last night after the gym and shower and washing-of-hair-crisis-of-nerves (nothing very unusual) put his slippers and his dressing gown, got into her bed " I'll rest a bit before eating mom, "and we did more for the evening. I tried to go and wake up when we started at the table but to no avail.

So this morning, she emerges from her coma diiiiffiiiicilement ethyl * trembling and disoriented. The only thing it manages to articulate intelligible is "I think I'm sick," I go down So from his perch in the hope that I do not repainting the plastron, laying on the floor and directs it (it sways a lot) to the bathroom.

Above which she leans wisely. Wait. Coughs a little. Still waiting. It does not come. She turns and sits above story to empty the other side. And it's * obviously * at that time, with appropriateness of thunder, then, she redecorated the office.

I can not even blame him for not having gone to the bathroom to do his work.


* actually said was more likely coma diabetic type: in turn, it seems to be reaching the same syndrome as her brother, namely "the candy is not good for vomit." And so what do you want, we do things that nourishes healthy-zet-do home, when suddenly comes an orgy of junk that accompanies ** Halloween is not surprising.

** Is it worth pointing out that the damsel strives to find ways to steal sweets in "his" bag since Sunday night ...? The other day (while I had not) it is sought in vain, and we eventually found crouched under a chair (under the table so), his back, trying to swallow a hickey on the sly.

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We just finished supper, Ships in 4th gear after the quest halloweenesque candy, and the Young Turkey has not touched his violin for four days is requested to get started fissa while his sister has, miraculously, for once agreed to take a shower first. (Usually she always wants to pass first report that "if it frouaaaaaa, I do not like it when frouaaaa.")

So hopefully in the best of worlds, j love that children who cooperate, Ms. Marshal Strip off in the bathroom while I tidy the dinner table, dishes in the kitchen, the laundry lying around, I run a cycle dishwasher, and that Turkey unpacks his violin and began the usual exercises.

However, given that I will absolutely have to integrate now, in addition to the new piece to work the old man insists also play the old, he has on the fingertips, which prolongs still funny on Schmilblick. But as I say it's also a good way to gain confidence in his abilities than playing tricks you know by heart, I let them.

Meanwhile, the damsel preteen plays and sings in the shower. The water flows.

We attack the new song, finger placement, general position.

During that time, the water flows.

While round the fingers, watch the bow, independent of aid, blah.

Meanwhile the water flows.

Once practice is over, the Young Turkey rushed into the bathroom - the shower is one of its great daily pleasures. And he notes. Oh horror. Her sister. To empty the tank.

- [Ms. Marshal]! I've had enough! You make a load of rubbish! You eat too much candy! Even in your bed! (True by the way) You're just a slut! And the more you empty the hot water! I'm tired! me I would not have a child like you!

(You amaze me man. I failed to add to this blow.)

(but I remembered that I had probably my share of responsibility .. . see the dishwasher. Aaehm.)

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real dialogue never runs out of sources of wonder

This morning while I was waiting on the other side of the grid as mistresses out to support their respective class, I got a apostrophize Dad.

- You are the mother [of the Young Turkey]?

- Euhh or iii ... it happened something?

- Ah but say he is bin c't'enfant popular one! I hear it just at home in the morning my daughter urges me "Daddy hurry up, we'll miss [the Young Turkey]!" c't'effrayant.


(Luckily when he told me the name of his daughter, I could argue that I also heard talk of it often. Phew anyway, it's not like if they stop you for you say how the little loves Ms. Truc Marschallin and speaks with her when she never even just scratched the surface, aaahem what it has cooled recently vountrouvépas?)


So to paint a general picture:

- the Young Turkey has 2 love * a "for real" and the other for a bit false but not really anyway. Tfassons they do not compete, it's apparently a household to 3 which works fine, the guy who told them that if they want to sit all the 2 next to him, it's easy, it has 2 sides good.

- my son, for reasons I can not explain, enjoys popularity across the whole court, "You know everybody wants to be friends with me mom" he said this evening after the violin. In the morning we arrive between 4 and 6 small - by time - throw themselves at him. In the evening we share, we must make the rounds of all the friends of the court who are leaving and want to say goodbye. And I do not even hug-hugs.

All with a pair of parents Rejects and lonely before the Lord and a tree-filled cave bear antisocial option. The child ceases to amaze me.


* and my mom proud of is that none of them is Barbie service. Remind me to congratulate for its good taste.

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My kids talk to me (43)

These days I often eligible for one or other of these exclamations

- phew Didonc Mom, do you have a big belly (and even my great, you have nothing vii) . Do what you can see your feet?

- Okay, so mom is when he will leave your baby there? (meaning "so you can start to run and jump with me when I ordered the ask you kindly")

by cons Tonight was something else: on the way home , we wondered how they get the babies (I swear it's not me who started). It was very interesting

1) According to the Young Turkey, when you eat touuuuute touuuute his plate and eat lots and lots, we have a belly that grows there and then poof, when you have eaten too much is a baby inside. The babies are therefore of the plate, admit that it is worrying about the prospects that it opens.

2) The opinion of Ms. Marschallin we would have suspected otherwise Original: To the question "and then you just how you think they're babies?" it stops walking, leans forward, raises a foot and shows me the plant. Then his finger goes up the leg until it stops stomach. Babies, we will say is that the feet do you get it. Watch out where you walk.


I did not lie, they were so confident and I thought it was so cute. :)