LARGE FACED WATCHES FOR WOMEN : AUTOMATIC PERPETUAL CALENDAR WATCH : CASIO DATABANK WATCH WHITE.
Weft-faced Pattern Weaves: Tabby to Taquete
Travel beyond the traditional limits of boundweave with this comprehensive guide to weft-faced pattern weaves. Beginning and experienced weavers alike will learn how to plan, predict, and weave colorful, rhythmical patterns, charming folk figures, and geometric designs in fabrics that are decorative and durable. Fifty-three projects range from simple to complex weaves. Directions, patterns, and tips are provided for the plain weave, twill, point twill, rosepath, overshot, taquetA©, and samitum. It also features Coptic taquete and samitum re-creations and patterns from the Tunic of Tutankhamun. Engaging and informative text accompanies diagrams, illustrated samplers, and drafts with threading, tie-up, treadling, and drawdowns. This is the definitive work on weft-faced pattern weaves and is a must-have reference and resource guide for weavers and crafters alike.84% (11)
The Holy Women at the Sepulchre
THE holy women were very near the door of Nicodemus’s house at the moment of our Lord’s Resurrection; but they did not see anything of the prodigies which were taking place at the sepulchre. They were not aware that guards had been placed around the tomb, for they had not visited it on the previous day, on account of its being the Sabbath. They questioned one another anxiously concerning what would have to be done about the large stone at the door, as to who would be the best person to ask about removing it, for they had been so engrossed by grief that they had not thought about it before. Their intention was to pour precious ointments upon the body of Jesus, and then to strew over it flowers of the most rare and aromatic kinds, thus rendering all the honour possible to their Divine Master in his sepulchre. Salome, who had brought more things than any one else, was a rich lady, who lived in Jerusalem, a relation of St. Joseph, but not the mother of John. The holy women came to the determination of putting down their spices on the stone which closed the door of the monument, and waiting until some one came to roll it back. The guards were still lying on the ground, and the strong convulsions which even then shook them clearly demonstrated how great had been their terror, and the large stone was cast on one side, so that the door could be opened without difficulty. I could see the linen cloth in which the body of Jesus had been wrapped scattered about in the tomb, and the large winding-sheet lying in the same place as when they left it, but doubled together in such a manner that you saw at once that it no longer contained anything but the spices which had been placed round the body, and the bandages were on the outside of the tomb. The linen cloth in which Mary had enveloped the sacred head of her Son was still there. I saw the holy women coming into the garden; but when they perceived the light given by the lamps of the sentinels, and the prostrate forms of the soldiers round the tomb, they for the most part became much alarmed, and retreated towards Golgotha. Mary Magdalen was, however, more courageous, and, followed by Salome, entered the garden, while the other Women remained timidly on the outside. Magdalen started, and appeared for a moment terrified when she drew near the sentinels. She retreated a few steps and rejoined Salome, but both quickly recovered their presence of mind, and walked on together through the midst of the prostrate guards, and entered into the cave which contained the sepulchre. They immediately perceived that the stone was removed, but the doors were closed, which had been done in all probability by Cassius. Magdalen opened them quickly, looked anxiously into the sepulchre, and was much surprised at seeing that the cloths in which they had enveloped our Lord were lying on one side, and that the place where they had deposited the sacred remains was empty. A celestial light filled the cave, and an angel was seated on the right side. Magdalen became almost beside herself from disappointment and alarm. I do not know whether she heard the words which the angel addressed to her, but she left the garden as quickly as possible, and ran to the town to inform the Apostles who were assembled there of what had taken place. I do not know whether the angel spoke to Mary Salome, as she did not enter the sepulchre; but I saw her leaving the garden directly after Magdalen, in order to relate all that had happened to the rest of the holy women, who were both frightened and delighted at the news, but could not make up their minds as to whether they would go to the garden or not. In the meantime Cassius had remained near the sepulchre in hopes of seeing Jesus, as he thought he would be certain to appear to the holy women; but seeing nothing, he directed his steps towards Pilate’s palace to relate to him all that had happened, stopping, however, first at the place where the rest of the holy women were assembled, to tell them what he had seen, and to exhort them to go immediately to the garden. They followed his advice, and went there at once. No sooner had they reached the door of the sepulchre than they beheld two angels clothed in sacerdotal vestments of the most dazzling white. The women were very much alarmed, covered their faces with their hands, and prostrated almost to the ground; but one of the angels addressed them, bade them not fear, and told them that they must not seek for their crucified Lord there, for that he was alive, had risen, and was no longer an inhabitant of the tomb. He pointed out to them at the same moment the empty sepulchre, and ordered them to go and relate to the disciples all that they had seen and heard. He likewise told them that Jesus would go before them into Galilee, and recalled to their minds the words which our Saviour had addressed to them on a former occasion: ‘The Son of Man will be delivered into the hands of sinners, he will be crucified, and tAs I Stand and Watch the Sea...
Please view my image large by pressing L on your keyboard. © HB Photography, Heidi Sanchez, All Rights Reserved. 2011 THE STORMS WITHIN MY MIND Standing at the water’s edge I watch a graying sea. A storm is coming, I know that now; but it’s too late for someone like me. The bitter waters nip my toes; a taste of what’s to come. The dense fog invades my thoughts like it has the shores I stand on. So sinisterly it envelops me, my lungs begin to burn. As I strain to find one ray of light that might reflect off the storming sea; I am drawn to Her familiar dance; I find myself knee deep. Her currents snatch hold of my legs as She sweeps me off of my feet. How fierce Her waters spray my face; I’m blinded by Her salty tears. Her waters ebb and flow with all my lifelong fears. Her deafening blows have drowned out the world I struggle hard hear. I flail and churn in her troubled depths, suffocating in her web of weeds. She beats me down before spitting me out as if to Her this is just to tease. Her waves toss me into Her rocks below to show me Her dominating rage. Oh how foolish I was to ever think this could get easier with age! My cries for help and tears of doubt will never reach the shore. If there was ever any hope in my thoughts; I can’t find it anymore. My anxious heart, like the bow of a boat, peers down from each building crest. Looking down upon the trough below I beg God,” Please take this weight from my chest.” It is then she pauses to torture me; I catch glimpse of a peaceful shore. The people I know and love are there in a world I recognize no more. They all smile, laugh and play games by the pier, on a sun filled beach with waters clear. Why is it they cannot see this storm I’m drowning in right here? I sink into Her stormy seas, my warmth She lures away. It is here my frigid, numbing thoughts can no longer be kept at bay. I drag across Her barren floor; My mind wanders to the people on those blissful shores. But down here no arms can reach me. Upon no smiling faces will I look. It’s down here I can’t get back what this fight forever took. I fear my life will end like this; unlike my childhood books. My envy for their well-balanced world will die along with me. I hate how I feel like only death will truly set me free. It’s normally when I think these words; I ‘m released back to these shores. But it is here my life is tethered to, And Her storms will be back for more. Poem "The Storms Within My Mind" is © Heidi A. Sanchez, All Rights Reserved. 2011
Two-Faced Racism examines and explains the racial attitudes and behaviours exhibited by whites in private settings. While there are many books that deal with public attitudes, behaviours, and incidences concerning race and racism (frontstage), there are few studies on the attitudes whites display among friends, family, and other whites in private settings (backstage). The core of this book draws upon 626 journals of racial events kept by white college students at twenty-eight colleges in the United States. The book seeks to comprehend how whites think in racial terms by analyzing their reported racial events.Similar posts:
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