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How Jordy Went

How Jordy Went
by Jamieson Ridenhour

Once Jordy started crying in the middle of our seventh grade music class. What happened was this: Jordy had been talking about a vacation his parents were planning, a trip to Myrtle Beach for Labor Day, and Tom Cardinal had shouted across the room that the best place for them to take Jordy was the Virgin Islands. Everyone had laughed, and Jordy had turned the loud and brilliant shade of scarlet of which only he was capable. That had made everyone laugh even harder. And just like that, he burst into tears. It was the first week of school; we hadn’t even had time to figure out how middle-schoolers were supposed to act. But it was pretty obvious that twelve was too old to be blubbering in front of the whole class. That was a “no duh” sort of situation.

That was sort of Jordy in a nutshell. Of all of us, he was closest to still being a little kid. Part of that had to do with the way he looked. I had never seen real freckles before I met Jordy in the third grade, but my lack of exposure was remedied by his excesses. There was hardly an inch of exposed flesh on Jordy that wasn’t densely packed with little red marks. The biggest were almost the size of nickels and the smallest were mere pinpricks; most were round but some were irregularly shaped like ink splatters. His eyes were brown in the midst of all that red, deep and sad when he wasn’t cutting fool, which wasn’t often. His red hair was curly in a loose, out-of-control way that always made him look disheveled. In the summers he burned like a dry leaf, lobstering up almost while you watched.

Jordy confessed to me later, after the crying-in-music-class incident, that he’d been embarrassed because he didn’t know what “virgin” meant.

Of course we didn’t plan what happened. Who would plan something like that? Jordy may have said he had a plan, but he couldn’t have known, could he? There was no way to ask him later, but he couldn’t have. What I thought we had planned, that last strange weekend, was to have a sleepover at Kenny’s house and play Dungeons and Dragons. We would ride the bus home with Kenny and spend Friday night and most of Saturday at his house.

All three of us lived in a large subdivision called Riverwood. Kenny and Jordy usually preferred to hang out at my house, because my mom and step-dad were kinder than their parents. Maybe that’s not fair. Kenny and Jordy’s parents weren’t “unkind,” at least they weren’t the sort of parents who beat you or locked you in the closet or forgot to feed you. But they were too wrapped up in their own lives to spare much attention for us. My parents would ask us questions and seemed to want to know the answers. And my step-dad had read most of the books we were obsessed with; he could talk about Frodo as easily as we could, and knew who Thomas Covenant was. My mom was great at giving out snacks and cooking meals and being fun and friendly. I’m not trying to be all glowy-eyed about my parents or anything. I’m just saying. And we’d go to Jordy’s house as well: that’s where we’d spend Friday nights and stay up late watching bad science fiction films on TBS, and as long as we weren’t too loud or silly Jordy’s parents would tolerate us.

But for a real sleepover--an all-night D&D event that could also include rude words, body noises, and behavior both loud and silly—it was always Kenny’s two story wood-sided house, partially because the dormer windows from his second floor bedroom allowed us access to the roof on summer nights, but mainly because his parents just didn’t care what we did as much as mine or Jordy’s did. Plus, Kenny’s house was closer to the woods, and there was always some fun to be had tearing up and down the scrubby dirt pathways between the trees.

Kenny’s father wasn’t there much, which meant that we were free to search his room for the Playboy magazines that were often stashed under his dresser. This was the most illicit thing I had ever done, looking at pictures of naked women in a magazine that would be returned before the owner missed it, and like everything it made me feel guilty. But I was probably going to feel guilty about something anyway, and I might as well get a look at some naked women for my trouble.

And the women weren’t all imaginary at Kenny’s house. His sister Courtney was in high school and also happened to be the neighborhood wet dream. Well, actually any girl in high school with long hair and visible tits was the neighborhood wet dream, but we got to see Courtney more often than the other girls in Riverwood. I had no sister, just a little brother who wasn’t old enough to do much more than interrupt TV shows or walk in on you in the bathroom. Jordy’s 10-year-old sister Becky was a pigtailed, freckled little terror who looked like Jordy, shrunken and in drag. She was no-one’s wet dream. Other girls were distant visions that none of us except Kenny could ever hope to speak to, but Courtney was a living breathing person who we could watch eat and move and sit in front of the TV. She even spoke to us, usually to tell us to get the hell out of the living room. She was pretty bitchy, but her body was poetry.

So I had high hopes for the weekend. On Friday morning I was putting my books in my locker before homeroom and Jordy came running up. He was out of breath and sort of spazzing, but that wasn’t unusual.

“Hey, Jordy. What’s up, man?” I kept digging for my social studies book. “you ready for this weekend? Brother Egbert is ready to kick some butt!” Brother Egbert was my twentieth level monk. He could levitate and do like a gazillion hit points damage in hand-to-hand. Jordy’s own character was a fighter named Franklin the Edgy. He was only eleventh level because he got hit by a time curse that wiped his abilities back three years. Jordy said that was unfair, but Kenny wouldn’t budge from it. Kenny’s always the Dungeon Master and he can be pretty hard and fast.

“I think I’ve got a better idea,”said Jordy. “Have you got Faerieswith you?” He peered into my locker.

“Yeah, it’s in there. I wasn’t planning on bringing it to Kenny’s, though. Why do you need it?”

“I’ve got a great plan for tonight.”

“What is it?”

“It’s a surprise. Just bring Faeries, okay? I’m so excited!” And then he did this weird little thing he always did—it’s like he’d bend his knees, shiver all over, and then straighten back up. In my head I call it “bivering,”but I never said this to Jordy. He was just too fragile.

Right at that moment Tiffany Harner and Karen Almers walked by. Tiffany made a snorty sort of giggle sound. She said, “God, what a spaz!” Karen laughed really loud and they both disappeared into Mrs. Shiels’ room.

“Jesus, Jordy,” I said. He looked after the girls.

“Tiffany Harner, that’s what.” He still looked like he didn’t know what I was talking about, so I just said,“Come on, we’re gonna be late.”

I’d been in love with Tiffany Harner since fifth grade. She lived two streets over from me, about midway between my house and Kenny’s. She was blonde and taller than us and had a nose that looked like it was sculpted by Michelangelo or somebody. Kenny said that her tits weren’t big enough, and I always got mad because it felt like a betrayal to even listen to anybody talk about her like that. Plus, I thought she had really nice tits. Jeremy McMann said he looked in her window one night and saw her getting out of the shower. I didn’t believe him; he was always saying things like that. But I thought about it a lot. Sometimes I rode my bike around between her house and Kenny’s, hoping she would come out in the yard. I was scared one day she might come out in the yard.

One time in sixth grade Jordy told Tiffany that I thought she had a fine body. The next day Tiffany was right behind me in the lunch line and she leaned over to me and said, in a real low voice, “I hate you, Michael Oakley.” I acted like I hadn’t heard her. She hadn’t talked to me since. Jordy said he’d been trying to help.

In Social Studies we were learning about South Carolina history. Tom Cardinal sat at the back and threw spitballs at me and Jordy. It was really cliché, like something you’d see on TV. Tom was a big dumb kid, but in the seventh grade dumb doesn’t matter if you’re big, just like smart doesn’t matter if you’re fat, like me, or scrawny, like Jordy. Tom called us “Fatso” and “Flatso.” Trying to listen to Mrs. Shiels talk about General Francis Marion while spitballs are making a small, steady splat against the back of your neck is difficult at first, but even that early in the year it had just become part of class. We never said anything because we knew Tom would beat the shit out of us if we did.

Except that Friday Jordy did something completely amazing. About midway through class, he put down his pencil and turned around to look directly at Tom. Then he said, really loudly, “Why don’t you swallow those spitballs, you monkey-faced freak?”

I’ll admit that my first thought was that I was going to get beaten up just for sitting next to Jordy. But then I saw the look of pure gobsmacked disbelief on Tom’s face, and I knew it would be worth getting beaten up. I know it was a really lame insult. I mean, there were so many better things he could have said. I know because I used to lay in bed at night and think up really great and horrible things to say to Tom Cardinal. “Monkey-faced freak” was pretty good, but “swallow those spitballs” lacked all poetry. So the insult itself wasn’t so amazing. But the fact that Jordy had said it at all, that anyone would insult Tom Cardinal to his face, was supreme. And Tom was as shocked as the rest of us. He didn’t throw any more spitballs during that class.

After class, Tom waited for us by my locker. A crowd of kids stood in a rough semi-circle around us, so they all heard what he said. Tiffany Harner was in the circle, and I don’t know who else. Tom pushed Jordy up against the lockers. It looked like a grizzly bear holding a weasel. He said, “You’re fucking dead, Flatso!”There was a gasp from the onlookers.

And then, as if the day wasn’t already surreal enough, Jordy said, “If you think you’re big enough, then meet me in the woods behind Kenny’s house tonight at midnight.”

Tom relaxed his grip on Jordy’s shoulders. “What’re you talking about?”

“I’m talking about tonight,” said Jordy, “unless you’re scared.”

Tom got real close to Jordy’s face and said, “There’s nothing about you that could ever scare me, you pimply little dickwad. If you want to die at midnight, then you’ll die at midnight.”

See, that’s good dialogue, right there. That beats “swallow those spitballs” to pieces. Tom was dumb as a stump, but he could sure turn a phrase when he was promising violence.

The little crowd broke up before it drew attention from any teachers, and I was left staring at Jordy. “What did you do that for?” I said.

“It’s part of what I’ve got planned for tonight,” he said.

“What, getting the crap beaten out of you? And me, too, probably?”

“Just wait,”Jordy said, “it’s gonna be great.” And then he bivered again.

I opened my locker and saw Tiffany Harner watching us from her own locker, seven or eight down on the other side of the hall. Her eyes were really blue. She saw me see her and turned away, pretending to look for a book or something. I wondered if maybe Jordy was on to something. Were we suddenly cooler because we were going to die?

I spent forty-five seconds or so imagining Jordy getting killed by Tom Cardinal and Tiffany Harner comforting me at the funeral. She was wearing a black dress that ended mid-way down her thighs, and I knew she regretted how she had treated us all those years. Now that she had realized the extent of our bravery and sacrifice, she would make it up to me. She smelled like lavender, and her waist was soft under my arm. I closed the locker and went to lunch.

Kenny was waiting at our lunch table. Kenny had a couple notches on me and Jordy when it came to coolness. He was neither fat like me nor skinny like Jordy. His blonde hair was never combed but always looked right. His skin tanned easily. Kenny knew more than we did about life in general, and he used all the words we were afraid to. He had HBO, and had seen many rated R movies, the goriest scenes of which he recounted to Jordy and me with dramatic flourishes worthy of Gielgud or Olivier. It was sort of amazing that he wanted to hang out with us. He was interested in all the things we were—things which were definitely not cool, like hobbits and elves and alien monsters with ray guns. But even given all that, Kenny was cool, because some kids just are and that’s the way it is. He had supposedly even kissed a girl, but I had never had the guts to ask about that and could only rely on Jordy’s wide-eyed report.

“Jordy, what’s going on? Everybody’s saying you jumped on Tom Cardinal in the hall and bloodied his nose, and that he said he was going to break into your house and murder you.”

Jordy told Kenny what had actually happened. “But it’s no big deal,” he said, “I’ve got the best plan ever.”

“What is it?”Kenny asked. I looked at Jordy expectantly.

“You’ll see tonight,” Jordy said. He was really digging being mysterious. You could tell. “It’s gone on long enough. We’ll stop it all tonight.”

“Bullshit,”said Kenny, “what have you got planned?” It’s not like Kenny was in charge or anything, but we pretty much did what he said. “Tell me, Jordy.”

“Nope. Not ‘til tonight. It’s really awesome.” Kenny and I looked at each other. I swear sometimes it felt like we were Jordy’s parents or something. But Jordy wouldn’t say anything else about it, and seemed genuinely unconcerned about spending the weekend in the hospital. We talked about the D&D game and ate our hamburger-ish lunch.

* * *

The downstairs den at Kenny’s house always smelled like farts and Fritos, a fact which I attributed to the dog. Kenny’s dog was called Johnson. He was a sad animal who usually had something wrong with his ears. We never ceased being disgusted at the growths and funks that sprouted on Johnson’s ears. He also had the largest testicles I have ever seen on a dog. They swung and bounced as he walked and when he sat down they squashed together in a way that made us wince. Kenny called him “Old Iron Balls.”

But Old Iron Balls wasn’t around tonight—he was upstairs in Kenny’s parents room, sleeping. Conditions were perfect: Kenny’s mom had a bunch of sodas and chips and mini-Butterfingers and lemonade. We spread out across the floor of Kenny’s farty den, a cascade of food and paper and lead figurines and twenty-sided dice.

The campaign was awesome that night. Jordy had tremendous luck in the Chamber of Fungus, killing seven big orcs and gaining lots of experience points. It looked like Franklin the Edgy was on his way to regaining the levels he had lost last time we played. Kenny had some really surprising stuff waiting for us—he was really good at thinking up new situations and combinations of monsters. Brother Egbert did indeed kick butt, and by the time we took a break around ten o’clock I had two non-player characters serving as vassals on the expedition I was mounting to rescue the son of the High Rajah of Quelz.

When we stopped to eat, Jordy asked if I had brought Faeries. I pulled the book out and handed it to him.

“Okay, Jordy,”I said, “what’s up? Please tell us what’s going on.” Even though we’d been having fun, Kenny and I had both been painfully aware that the showdown with Tom was approaching. Personally I was hoping Jordy was going to pull a no-show and that Tom would be content to just humiliate us at school on Monday for being chicken.

“Here it is,”said Jordy, and pointed to a page in the book.

We were all enthralled by Brian Froud and Alan Lee’s Faeries. I had at first thought it was a cheap rip-off of Gnomes, which was my favorite book two years before. I had bought it anyway, and had realized how wrong I was. Jordy was fascinated by the pictures of naked faeries in the book, which were numerous. To be honest I liked a few of these as well, but it seemed to cheapen the whole thing to reduce it to sex. The pictures, the stories, and the handwritten text were magic in themselves, but more importantly they pointed the way to a reality that lay just beneath the surface of the everyday. It was a sort of talisman representing everything we were about.

The drawing Jordy pointed at was spooky and realistic—a thin man covered in scraggly black hairs and topped with the head of a truly demonic goat. We all knew the Phooka (pronounced “Pooka,” the book helpfully pointed out). It was an Irish faerie that took the form of a black pony or goat and took unwary travelers for wild rides through the underbrush before dumping them in a ditch. All the travelers in Froud and Lee’s folktales were unwary. The Phooka frankly scared the shit out of me, but of course I never said that to Kenny and Jordy. Right then I just wondered why Jordy was pointing to the thing and looking at me and Kenny as if he’d explained something.

“It’s the Phooka,” said Kenny. “So what?”

“Damn right it’s the Phooka,” said Jordy, “and there’s one living in the woods behind your house.”

Kenny had this way of saying “What?” that was sort of drawn out and high-pitched and made you feel like you’d just said the stupidest thing anybody had ever said in the history of talking. He did it then, and I have to admit Jordy had earned it.

“That’s crazy, Jordy,” I said, “Phookas are from Ireland.”

Kenny gave me the same Look he had given Jordy. “Plus they don’t exist, you dildoes.”

Jordy chose to answer me. “I know they’re from Ireland originally, but there’s one here. I’ve seen it. Walking in the woods at night.”

“You’ve seen a Phooka walking in the woods behind Kenny’s house?”

“No, I’ve seen a Phooka when I was walking in the woods at night.”

“What was it doing?”

“Just sitting in the bushes next to the creek, staring at me.”

“Jesus, Jordy, that’s creepy as hell!”

“It’s not creepy,” said Kenny, “it’s bullshit. What were you doing walking in the woods behind my house?”

“Just walking. Looking around.”

“How can you look around in the middle of the night?” Kenny wanted to know. It was a good question. Even more shocking than the fact that Jordy thought the woods had a Phooka was the fact that timid little Jordy would walk in the woods by himself after dark. I sure wouldn’t have.

“Alright,”said Jordy, with the air of someone who’s come to a decision, “I was looking for faeries. I wanted to find faeries like the ones Brian Froud and Alan Lee found.”

Kenny started laughing. It was small giggles at first, but it quickly became obvious that Jordy was getting pissed off and that sent Kenny into full-on belly laughs. Guffaws even. I mean seriously, I thought we’d have to get him oxygen. Eventually Jordy shouted “What’s so funny?” and then I started laughing.

Kenny sobered up first. Jordy was angry, but not the sort of red-faced, close-to-crying angry that he did two or three times a day. His voice was very quiet and controlled. He said, “If you two retards are done making fun of me, I’ll tell you my plan.”

I said I was sorry. Kenny didn’t. Jordy looked down at the book. Rick Springfield was singing “Jesse’s Girl” on Kenny’s boombox. “Lately something’s changed,”sang Rick, “it ain’t hard to define.” Jordy looked up.

“Ihave seen a Phooka,” said Jordy.“I’ve seen it three times, and I know where it is. It’s always near the same bend in the path. I’ve seen other things out there too, but the Phooka’s the one. I’m gonna lure Tom Cardinal out to the bend in the path and I’m gonna let the Phooka get him.”

This time we didn’t laugh. Kenny didn’t even give him the Look. Instead Kenny said, really reasonably, “But that’s crazy, Jordy.”

“Why? Forget about you not thinking it’s real. I know it’s there. So why is it crazy?’

Kenny thought. “Well,” he said, “how can you be sure the Phooka will want anything to do with Tom Cardinal? And if it did, wouldn’t that be like murder or something? Tom’s a dick, but you can’t go around getting people killed because of that. Half the school’d be dead.”

“The Phooka doesn’t kill people. It plays tricks on them. It scares the bejeezus out of them.” We all looked at the picture of the Phooka. It was dead scary. “And Tom’s more than just a dick. He’s a horrible person. He’s bad. He deserves anything we can do to him.”

It was getting maximum weird now. The faerie thing was out there, but Jordy’s talking about Tom Cardinal was worse. It was too serious or something. It was adult.

Kenny said,“Why would it do anything to Tom at all? Why hasn’t it done anything to you while you’re mounting these expeditions all over the woods in the middle of the night?”

“I think it’s waiting,” said Jordy. “I think it will get Tom because he deserves to get got, and the Phooka will know that.”

“Okay,” said Kenny. “Maybe you’re right.” I looked at Kenny. Were we all losing it?

“I know I’m right,” said Jordy, his voice finally quavering just like old times, “I just need to know if you guys are coming with me.”

During the pause after Jordy spoke, I looked out the window at the darkness. On the radio, Phil Collins could feel it coming in the air tonight. I tried to see Tiffany Harner’s house, but it was too dark and the angle was wrong. Then, as I watched the window, I saw something move. It was really hard to tell what was what, looking out into the darkness from a brightly lit room, but I swear I saw a wrinkled face under a wide-brimmed hat looking in the window. I sat very still. When I tried to make the face out it wasn’t there any more. Jordy’s craziness was getting to me. I didn’t say anything to Kenny or Jordy, since I probably imagined it and I didn’t want to look like a scaredy-cat. Then Kenny surprised me again by saying, “Yeah, Jordy. Sure we’ll come with you.”

Jordy had a lot of equipment in his backpack. “It’s gonna be a real faerie hunt,” he said, pulling out flashlights and bottled water. “I mean, we’re going to really give it to Tom Cardinal good, but we’re also gonna see some really amazing stuff. I’ve already seen the Phooka, and what I think was a Fir Darrig, and I think there’s things living in the creek. Goblins, maybe. With all three of us looking, there’s no telling what we’ll find!”

Referring to the two-page spread that details how to protect yourself from faeries, Jordy had chosen the most convenient and easy to use items. He had a zip-loc bag full of salt for each of us, and some sprigs of a plant he assured us was St. John’s Wort. He also had us turn our shirts inside out. The most impressive thing he had was his father’s hunting knife, a big, wicked-looking thing with a long leather-sheathed blade and a bone handle.

“What’s that for, Jordy?” I asked.

“It’s got iron in it,” he said. “they hate iron. You know that. Plus it might come in handy if we get in a tight place.”

After we’d redressed and Jordy had packed our protection kits, he went to the bathroom. I turned to Kenny. “What are you doing?”

Kenny looked in the direction Jordy had gone. “We’ve gotta look out for him, Mike. He’s really gone off the deep end.”

“So you agree this is crazy?”

“Oh, it’s bugshit crazy. But Tom Cardinal’s real, and he’s gonna beat Jordy ‘til we can’t recognize him. It’d be better if there were three of us there, and if we could keep Jordy from threatening Tom with faeries. We’d never hear the end of it.”

“I’m just.” There was nothing outside the window now but darkness. I swallowed and took the plunge. “I’m a little scared, is all.”

“Shit, yeah,”said Kenny. “Tom Cardinal’s gonna have us for breakfast.”

* * *

It was 11:25 when we left the house. We each had a flashlight, a bag of salt, a sprig of St. John’s Wort, a green pocket-sized New Testament, and an inside-out shirt. Jordy had a camera and the big hunting knife stuck in his belt. He had made three long daisy chains, one for each of us, but Kenny had put his foot down at that.“If Tom Cardinal’s going to beat the crap out of me,” he said, “he’s not doing it while I’m wearing a bunch of frickin’ flowers.”

At the edge of the woods we stopped and looked around, like we were in some spy movie or something. The houses of Riverwood were laid out in neat rows, lining streets that intersected each other at regular right angles. The light from TVs spilled out onto the close-cut lawns, under the pair of pine trees that grew in each yard. The scene was comforting; our whole world was in these streets, except for the school a mile and a half away. From here I could see Tiffany Harner’s house. There was a light on in the upstairs window that I thought was hers. I wondered what she was doing up at 11:30, what she was thinking about.

Turning our back on Riverwood, we entered the woods. I guess the woods behind Kenny’s house weren’t really all that big or deep. They were maybe three hundred square yards, but they were thick, filled with underbrush and sticker-bushes. I had to do this stupid leaf project in the sixth grade where we collected leaves from twenty different kinds of trees and put them in this leaf journal. I know there were at least sixteen different kinds of trees in the woods, because I had to get the other four from my Grandma’s house, but they were mostly pine, like all woods in South Carolina. There were three or four paths wandering among the trees, dusty and twisted, and a small creek that flowed through the middle. The woods sloped down towards the creek and then back up again on the other side. The creek flowed in places and in others just sort of stood there. The best path ran right alongside the creek, down at the bottom of the woods. At 11:30, it was stupid dark.

We took the main path, sloping down and to the right. Jordy wouldn’t let us use the flashlights, because it would scare away the faeries. I asked Jordy where he was supposed to have his showdown with Tom Cardinal, and he said that the woods weren’t that big, and they’d find each other eventually.

In the dark, I started seeing things. The path was dusty pale in front of me, and I could just make out shapes at its edges. I thought I saw all sorts of things before we were fifty feet in—goblins and leprechauns and taller, more sinister things. They didn’t move, and I knew they were just shadows and trees and the after-effects of Jordy’s crazy talk and the pictures in Froud and Lee. They scared me shitless just the same. I clutched my bag of salt and said the Lord’s Prayer as well as I could remember it.

We reached the big junction where three paths came together. Behind us was Kenny’s house and Riverwood, to our left was the path by the creek, and ahead and slightly to the right was a smaller trail that would eventually come out in the ditch next to the Pamplico highway. Jordy stopped and took out his bag of salt.

“Okay,” he said, “I’m going to make a safe circle here.”

“What does that mean?” I asked. “Safe from what?”

“From anything that we find or rile up that doesn’t want us out here.” He popped the zip-loc and started pouring the salt out around himself in a wide circle. Then he crushed his St. John’s Wort and sprinkled it over the ground inside the circle. I had just read Dracula, and Jordy seemed all Van Helsing-like while he did this; very matter-of-fact. “Now, if we get into trouble, we just have to get back here, in the middle of this crossroads, and jump into the circle.”

“That salt ain’t gonna keep Tom Cardinal off of you,” said Kenny.

“The Phooka will take care of Tom,” said Jordy.

“Oh, that’s right,” said Kenny, “I forgot.” He didn’t seem scared at all. It was hard to see his face in the darkness, but I could feel the sarcasm coming off him. He was worried about Tom Cardinal, but he wasn’t scared of anything living in the woods. Why was I? I wouldn’t have said I believed the stuff in the Faeries book, but out in the woods in the dark all bets were off. I wanted to go home. I was careful not to say this. I wished I could be as cool as Kenny.

“But now you don’t have any salt or St. John’s Wort,” I said, earning a Look from Kenny.

“I’ve got the knife and the Bible,” said Jordy. He was also unperturbed. I wondered whether I was just the biggest wuss of the three of us.

Jordy pointed down the path by the creek. “That’s where the Phooka is,” he said, “about halfway down at the big bend in the path. It’s always sitting in the bushes across the path from the creek.”

“So, what do we do?” I asked.

“First we hunt,” he said, “and see what we can find. Then, at midnight, I’ll come back here to the salt circle. You and Kenny go down the path to the where the big willow hangs over the creek. Tom’ll have to come here, if he comes in from Riverwood, and when he sees me I’ll start running. I’ll lead him down to the Phooka. When we pass you guys, you come out on the path and block it so he can’t run back.” He turned on his flashlight and looked at his watch. “It’s twenty minutes to twelve. Let’s go.” It was so bizarre to have Jordy in control like that. We just went and did what he said.

I didn’t find any faeries during our twenty-minute “hunt.” My eyes had finally adjusted to the dark more or less, and I could see trees and shrubs by the path for what they were. I heard lots of rustling and stuff that I really didn’t like, but I knew it wasn’t goblins or redcaps. It was most likely squirrels or raccoons. I could hear bigger noises from a couple of different directions, like somebody walking in the underbrush, but I knew that was Jordy and Kenny in other parts of the woods. I was still scared but liked this better; it was creepy being alone, but it was a different kind of creepy than what Jordy was putting out tonight. I didn’t go near the bend in the path where he had seen the Phooka.

At three minutes to midnight, I was on the path by the big weeping willow. Kenny was already there. I asked him if he’d seen any faeries and he hit me in the arm.

Kenny looked over his shoulder to see if Jordy was anywhere around. There was no sign, he must have already been back at the salt circle. “Listen, Mike,” he said,“there’s no Phookas out here.”

“I know that,”I said. I glanced down the path toward the bend.

“But there is gonna be a huge red-headed monster. Tom is gonna be real, and we need to be ready. Here.” He tossed me one end of a rope he pulled out of his backpack. It was a yellow nylon thing like you buy at a camping store.

“What’s this for?”

“Take one end of it and go into the bushes over there, just like Jordy said. I’ll take my end into the bushes on the other side of the path. In a few minutes Jordy’s gonna come running through here with Tom Cardinal hot on his heels. As soon as Jordy passes us, pull the rope as hard as you can.”

“We’re gonna trip him?”

“We’re gonna knock him flat on his face. He won’t know what hit him, and then we’ll haul butt out of here.”

“Which way?”

“Which way do we haul it out?”

“Oh. Good point. We’ll run that way.” He pointed further down the path. “So we can grab Jordy and haul him out with us.”

“Okay. Cool.” It was a good plan. Solid, with a pretty good chance of success. It didn’t rely on imaginary goat-men, and the odds were in favor of us not getting beaten to death until Monday. I liked it. I took my place in the bushes under the hanging branches of the willow, next to the creek. I couldn’t see Kenny across the path in the darkness, but I could feel the rope tighten in my hands as he took his place and pulled up the slack.

The time drug, laying there in the pitch black. Jordy didn’t come, and I didn’t hear anything from that end of the path. It was around two hundred yards from the salt circle crossroads to the bend where Jordy said the Phooka was. We were roughly halfway between the two. The woods were much quieter around me than they had been during my hunt—probably because the three of us weren’t tromping through the bushes like Paul Bunyan. I lay there and waited.

It seemed like much more than three or four minutes had passed. I couldn’t turn on the flashlight to look at my watch because Jordy and Tom could come at any moment. But I could have sworn they should already have been there. I wondered if something had gone wrong. Had Tom caught Jordy by surprise? Was he pounding him into a pulp right now? I still couldn’t hear anything. I lifted my head and looked back up the path.

And I saw Tiffany Harner. Like me, she was in the bushes on the creek side of the path, but she was standing up and facing the water. It looked like she was walking down the bank towards the creek. She was turned three-quarters away from me, and it was dark, but I could tell Tiffany from a mile away. Her blonde hair hung down to the small of her back and shone like a beacon in the gloom. She was wearing a long, light colored dress that I had never seen before. It might have been green. At first I had no idea what Tiffany Harner would be doing in the woods in the middle of the night, then I remembered her watching me and Jordy after Tom had threatened Jordy in the hall. She must have come to see what happened. I didn’t know whether she’d be cheering for us or Tom Cardinal, but there she was. She hadn’t seen me.

I turned a little in the dirt to see her better. She walked down until her legs were calf-deep in the water. What was she doing? The bottom of her dress floated around her legs. I half-crouched and moved closer to her. I stopped a few yards away, afraid she’d hear me. Her back was to me now. The dress clung to her like nothing I’d ever seen her wear. She was looking down into the water.

Then she did something that was straight out of my dream world. Tiffany Harner lifted her hands to the top of her dress and pulled the shoulders down. The dress slid off her in one smooth, even movement. She was naked underneath. I could see her entire back, head to calf, and the side of her right breast.

I didn’t know what to do. I’d spent years imagining Tiffany Harner naked, but these were weird circumstances. I felt like I should say something, let her know I was there. She clearly didn’t know I was anywhere nearby. But maybe I was already in trouble for seeing what I had seen. And when would I get a chance like this again?

She turned towards me, still looking down at the water. Facing me now, she was the most astonishing thing I had ever seen. Her hair hung down across her face and just grazed the tops of her breasts, the skin pale and almost translucent in the dim light. The dark tangle between her legs was suspended there ten feet from me above the water. In all my short life, I had never felt longing like I did right then, looking at the glory of Tiffany Harner’s body. The moment seemed to last a long time. Then she raised her head and looked at me.

It wasn’t Tiffany. I don’t know how I ever could have thought it was. Her hair, for one thing, was dark and much longer than Tiffany’s, curling and looping down her back and around her breasts and waist. Her face was achingly beautiful, but wilder than Tiffany’s, and older. Her body could still be that of a girl, but her eyes seemed very old—they were darker as well, not icy blue like Tiffany’s. She looked directly at me and smiled. It was a mocking and wicked smile, though not completely unkind. I felt ridiculously young and stupid. I was way out of my depth, and her smile told me that we both knew it.

The woman in the water took a step toward me, and as she did she seemed to grow larger somehow. Her arms stretched and rubbered out, her fingernails lengthened and curved, her face darkened and her eyebrows arched and bushed. Any longing I felt was gone. She raised her right arm and pointed a long, tapered finger at my chest, and then she melted. I mean that—she collapsed like a column of water into the creek, pushing a wave of warm, moist air against me that shook my clothes like a breeze.

Immediately I heard a yell from back towards the salt circle and then the sound of galloping hooves on the path. I turned around, completely disoriented. I stumbled back up the bank and emerged on the path. Something was coming up the path towards us, fast. I heard another yell, but I couldn’t tell what they were saying, or who it was yelling. I called out Kenny’s name.

Kenny came out onto the path. “What’s going on?” he said, and before I could not answer him, Tom Cardinal came running down the path. Tom’s face was white, and he looked more scared than me. He was really moving. Jordy was nowhere to be seen. I jumped back as he came up with me. I don’t think he even saw me. Kenny saw him coming, stuck out his foot, and tripped him.

Tom Cardinal hit the ground with his face hard enough that I felt it from five feet away. Kenny stepped back from him and watched. Tom got up real quick. His face was bleeding from two or three places and his nose didn’t sit right. He looked at me and Kenny like he didn’t know who we were. Then he looked back up the path where he’d come from, turned around, and ran as hard as he could go. He disappeared around the bend.

Kenny and I looked at each other. I started to say something, but right then we heard someone back up the path start laughing. At first I thought it was Jordy, but then it went on longer and it sounded like something else. It was high and hysterical and abolutely batshit. Nothing in that whole screwed up night had scared me like the sound of that laugher. It went on way too long, while Kenny and I just looked at each other.

After it died away, Kenny said, “Shit, Mike, what was that?”

“I don’t know,”I said.

“Let’s find Jordy and get out of here.”

It was really quiet as we walked back up the path. Kenny said, “Mike, I saw something, while we were waiting.”

I said, “Me, too.” The image of the woman in the water was burned in my brain. “What did you see?”

“I…” He frowned. “I don’t know. What about you?”

“I don’t know either.”

The ground was all torn up at the crossroads, maybe because of Tom Cardinal running around. The salt circle was still there, mostly, but one side had been smeared away in a muddle of footprints. Off to the side of the path we found Jordy’s knife. It had some blood on it, not much, but a little, smeared along the sharp edge of the blade. That freaked me out. The woods stretched out around us, silent and still. Jordy wasn’t there.

Kenny and I looked at each other across the salt circle. We were each thinking, maybe, about what we had seen in the trees before Tom came running down the path, things we’d never share with each other. We were scared, but only backhandedly. There was nothing left to be afraid of. We could see the lights of Riverwood through the trees. And Jordy was gone.

We looked for another hour or more. We walked down every path, calling Jordy’s name. We pushed through the brambles and sticker-bushes by the stream, and climbed up to the edge of the Pamplico highway and looked both ways along the verge. Jordy was not in the woods, or by the stream, or on the highway, or back in Riverwood. He was gone.

We ended up back at the crossroads. The knife was still where we had left it, laying in the dirt beside the smudged safe circle. The blood on its edge had dried to a rusty brown. I dropped to my knees by the salt circle and started to cry. It was a baby thing to do, but I couldn’t help it. Kenny watched me for a while, and then he helped me up.

The light was off in Tiffany Harner’s room as we stumbled back to Kenny’s house. We went inside and up the stairs, passing the den with its litter of food and paper. In Kenny’s room we lifted the sash and climbed out of the window. We sat on the roof of Kenny’s house and watched the sun rise. Tomorrow morning it would all begin—police and parents and tears and Tom Cardinal’s psychiatric treatment. But at dawn Riverwood looked exactly the same. Nothing had changed.

* * *

Jamieson Ridenhouris the author of the dashingly witty werewolf murder-mystery Barking Mad (Typecast, 2011), the editor of the Valancourt edition of the 1872 lesbian vampire novella Carmilla (2009), and the creator of the short fairy tale horror films Cornerboys(2009) and The House of the Yaga(2011). His fiction and poetry has appeared in Weird Tales, Strange Horizons,The Lumberyard, Dissections, Underneath the Juniper Tree, and others. He lives in North Dakota where he lectures on vampires and Charles Dickens, plays guitar with the occasional rock and roll outfit Blind Mice, and drinks coffee. Coffee. You can confirm all of this and more at his website: www.jamiesonridenhour.com.

What inspires you to write and keep writing?

Other writers. Like most authors, I am a voracious reader. Reading good writing inspires me and makes me want to try harder. I love beautiful prose, and the tension and release of a well-constructed narrative. A Peter Straub novel, a Kelly Link short story, an episode of Buffy, these are gaslights on my cobbled alleyway. And coffee. Coffee.

Anonymous said...

You know, middle school sucked quite a bit for me too, but faeries never killed any of my friends. Yet somehow, this scared the crap out of me. Nice work!

Jamieson Ridenhour said...

I'm glad you liked it! Middle school is a harrowing time. Glad you never lost any friends to the faeries.


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Logo de morgarten

The dawn rose on the northern plains. Chamma had waited for this moment for very long hours. He said goodbye to his wife and his children, took his weapons and left for the grim forest, at the boundary of the great Realm.

Chamma went through the snowy valleys and the frozen rivers and arrived on the great plain, beyond the mountains. More the hours passed, more the tiredness was felt. He was tempted many times to stop for rest in the villages he was going through, but the Spirit of his King was restoring his strength and courage, enabling him to continue his way.

Chamma walked for long hours and when the sun dipped behind the mountains, he arrived at the edge of the forest. In front of him stood huge oaks, where branches let the first rays of the moon pass through. Between the trees, a path, through which not much travelers dared to venture, sank in the darkness.

Chamma stopped in front of the impressing forest and listened to the wind whistling through the branches. He closed his eyes and perceived some distant owl hoots. Suddenly, a screech rose from the depths of the forest, followed by wolves cries. Chamma was overwhelmed by fear and totally lost heart. The atmosphere became so oppressive, that he fell on his knees, but, as he was wondering what was this malefic power and whether he really had to be there, he remembered his grandfather’s advice. An incredible peace flooded him, which enabled him to draw out his sword and to enter in the darkness of the forest.

The wolves’ cries had ceased for a moment and Chamma was going deeper and deeper into the forest. Suddenly a shadow drew his attention. He stopped and saw wolves’ outlines prowling behind the trees. He grabbed his sword and ran at them yelling and tore them to pieces with his blade. He felt that he wasn’t fighting alone anymore.

After some hours of walk, he saw a fire in the distance. The oppressive atmosphere vanished slowly as he was approaching it. He entered in a clearing floodlit by the fire which was burning in its centre. Around the fire were sitting warriors and more were arriving.

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Tuesday, May 2, 2017

My Thoughts on Every Day by David Levithan

Title: Every Day
Author: David Levithan
Publisher: Knopf Books for Young Readers
Publication Date: August 28, 2012
Genre: SciFi, Fantasy, Young Adult

I purchased this book from Amazon.  Neither the author nor the publisher requested or paid for this review.

Description from GoodReads
Every day a different body. Every day a different life. Every day in love with the same girl.
There’s never any warning about where it will be or who it will be. A has made peace with that, even established guidelines by which to live: Never get too attached. Avoid being noticed. Do not interfere.

It’s all fine until the morning that A wakes up in the body of Justin and meets Justin’s girlfriend, Rhiannon. From that moment, the rules by which A has been living no longer apply. Because finally A has found someone he wants to be with—day in, day out, day after day.

My Thoughts
When this was published five years ago, my sister adored it.  I thought it sounded like an interesting premise, but I never picked it up.  Until three days ago.  At which point, I absolutely devoured it!

I LOVED A.  What a complex character.  He has never had a specific person to sit down and talk about morality or values with and yet he seems to have developed a terrific moral compass all on his own.  He could have chosen to stay away from books and school, but he chose to learn regardless of the disjointed way he attends school.  I am excited to see a main character who seeks school and learning rather than simply taking it when forced.  Yes, I understand that there are days when he skips classes, but please don't forget that this is also true for many good students today!

Overall, I liked the idea of A waking up in a different body each day.  I thought that Levithan did a terrific job showing a plethora of people.  This is so important for many modern day readers.  It is far too easy for us to get stuck in our own heads and to never see anything from a different point of view.  Every Day pulls that shade of comfort away from the reader.  Levithan forces his audience to see the pain and the pleasure in people of all shapes, sizes, situations, and creeds.  This was definitely my favorite part of the book.

However, I truly disliked that there is never any explanation for why A is the way that he is.  I found it challenging to accept that I would never know why he flips from body to body like he does.  I wonder about his family.  Were his birth parents like him?  I mean he has to come from somewhere!  And how does Reverend Poole know so much?  How has he learned the things that he discusses with A (sorry guys, no spoilers).

I hated the lack of information and explanation in this book, but loved the romance, characters, and diverse topics.  I will be reading the sequel in the future.

My Rating

About the Author

David Levithan (born 1972) is an American children's book editor and award-winning author. He published his first YA book, Boy Meets Boy, in 2003. Levithan is also the founding editor of PUSH, a Young Adult imprint of Scholastic Press.

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It's August already?!

A fun snap from my trip to Budapest in July. More photos to come!

Time flies, August now, five months left of 2015.
It's okay. Before I used to freak out about it, well, I still do, but I'm trying to change my perception and reaction towards it.
I had such a great weekend - on Saturday, MK and I cycled all around central London (RideLondon event) and today I had a lovely lunch for my friend ST's belated birthday at Rotorino. The simple things.

Instead of thinking about the future so much ("I need to do this and that by next year", "I'm not sure how things will turn out and where I'll end up being", "I need to achieve more, set goals and plan my future"), I've decided to relish the present moment as well. I was looking through photos I've been tagged in on Facebook and realised I will look back at this very moment in a few years time, of my life in London and travels around Europe, and reminiscence on all these incredible and enriching experiences. I am living my dream right now. I wanted to do this for so long and here I am! But it is so easy to forget and let each day, week and month go by without really appreciating the seconds, minutes and hours (not sure if that's feasible though, ha!) Anyhow, it's not all sunshine and rainbows. I've had my shitty and moody days (I've had my share for sure) but without them I won't know when I'm having a good day! It's like Riley in 'Inside Out', kinda, I think - anyhow, go watch the movie!

Okay, to stop myself from ranting on this blog, to summarise, I need to maintain a good balance between living the moment and planting seeds for the future. Endcheesyfluffywuffylifemotto.

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texas paternity registry

Texas Fathers : Establishing Rights with Children Born Out of Wedlock

How does a Texas father establish rights to a child born out of wedlock? Read more on the blog of Dallas family law attorneys, Mark Nacol and Julian Nacol, of the Nacol Law Firm P.C.

By Nacol Law Firm - Dallas TX | Divorce & Family Law . Paternity

The Nacol Law Firm PC

8144 Walnut Hill Lane
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Toll Free (866) 352-5240

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Monday - Thursday, 8am - 5pm
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Return to Blogging and Recent updates

So for a while now i was “stuck” pretty much living in Southern California doing some interesting work, however it was slowing sending me to a dark place.

Anyway i am now back in PA and doing some pretty cool work lately. I will be writing a bunch of stuff again, and trying to update a lot of my older stuff.

I have been doing a lot of work on my own with ZFS which has been a BLAST!! I can get some pretty impressive IOPS out of just my little array at home.

I just did a UCS deployment for a 20,000 seat XenDesktop setup. They will be using the new Cisco Invicta array, which was Whiptail. Seems really cool, i’m trying to assist the customer with whatever they need, maybe get in on a whitepaper 🙂

I have a bake-off upcoming with a new NetApp 6280 vs a ZFS based Oracle array. This is Nerdtastic!! I’ll be doing a pretty deep writeup on this as prior around the test-cases and afterword as well with the results.

I am attending my first Cisco Live ever, and i have to say i haven’t been this excited for a conference in some time. I’d have to clone myself 3 times over to hit all the sessions i want to hit. Hopefully the outcome meets my expectations.

Custom UCS/FlexPod Build Script

 UPDATE: Working with some of our internal guys, its come to my attention that some of the script has broken with the newer UCSM versions.  I will be updating this to be more “adaptable”, however use the script for ideas and feel free to kang any code from it for now.

So i started working on developing a Powershell script that will grab variables from an Excel sheet and create a UCS Build off of that.

I am at a point that the build actually works quite well now. I’m pretty proud of myself since i’m NOT a deep Powershell guy. This came about from looking at other UCS Powershell scripts and a lot of tweaking and testing.

Anyway this script will continue to grow and its functionality expand. My end goal is to be able to do a base FlexPod build by scripting, including UCS, Nexus Switches, Netapp and VMware.

It will take a lot of time, and i may never really use the script but its more of a pet project to not only see if i can do it, but also grow my Powershell skillset.

Here is the github if you’d like to follow/assist or download and play with it a bit.

iSCSI Boot with ESXi 5.0 & UCS Blades

UPDATE:: The issue was the NIC/HBA Placement Policy.  The customer had set a policy to have the HBA’s first, then the iSCSI Overlay NIC, then the remaining NICs.  When we moved the iSCSI NIC to the bottom of the list, the ESXi 5.0 installer worked just fine.  I’m not 100% sure why this fix is actually working, but either way it works.

So at a recent customers site i was trying to configure iSCSI Booting of ESXi 5.0 on a UCS Blade, B230 M2.  To make a long story short it doesn’t fully work and isn’t offically supported by Cisco.  In fact, NO blade models are supported for ESXi 5.0 & iSCSI boot by Cisco.  They claim a fix is on the way, and i will post an update when there is a fix.

Here is the exact issue, and my orgianal thoughts, in case it helps anybody;

We got an error installing ESXi 5 to a Netapp LUN.  Got an error “Expecting 2 bootbanks, found 0” at 90% of the install of ESXi. The blade is a B230 M2.

The LUN is seen in BIOS as well as by the ESXi 5 installer.  I even verified the “Details” option, and all the information is correct.

Doing an Alt-F12 during the install and watching the logs more closely today, at ~90% it appears to be unloading a module, that appears by its’ name, to be some sort of vmware tools type package.  As SOON as it does that the installer claims that there is no IP address on the iSCSI NIC and begins to look for DHCP.  The issue is during the configuration of the Service Profile and the iSCSI NIC, at no time did we choose DHCP, we choose static. (We even have tried Pooled)  Since there is no DHCP Server in that subnet it doesn’t pickup an address and thus loses connectivity to the LUN.

So we rebooted the blade after the error, and ESXi5 actually loads with no errors.  The odd thing is that the root password that’s specified isn’t set, it’s blank like ESXi 4.x was.

So an interesting question is what’s happening during that last 10% of the installation of ESXi 5??  Since it boots cleanly, it almost seems like it does a sort of “sysprep” of the OS, ie all the configuration details.  If that’s the only issue then it might technically be ok.  However I don’t get the “warm and fuzzies”.  My concern would be that, maybe not today but down the road some module that wasn’t loaded correctly will come back to bite the client.

Also, what is happening in that last 10% that’s different then ESXi 4.x??  We were able to load 4.1 just fine with no errors.

Again we called Cisco TAC and we were told that ESXi 5 iSCSI booting wasn’t supported on any blade.  They do support 4.1 as well as Windows, and a variety of Linux Distos.

Configuring iSCSI boot on a FlexPod

Here is a nice document to follow to configure iSCSI booting for a FlexPod, ie. UCS Blades, NetApp array & ESXi.

UPDATE: This document has the fix i found for ESXi 5.0.  This was tested on B230 M2’s and seems to work every time.

This document will be updated as i get new information.

FlexPod iSCSI Boot-Fixed

Direct Connected Fiber Storage to UCS

So i’ve come across this recently.  I have a client that is direct connecting the Fiber from their NetApp array to the 6120’s of the UCS.

The issue that has been raised is that this is not technically supported.  As is seems Cisco releases with the 1.4.1 firmware release that you can absolutely do this.  However there is a caveat, it’s supported by Cisco as long as the storage vendor will support it.

The biggest problem is that NetApp did support it, but they don’t any longer.  So it seems Cisco was left holding the ball when NetApp walked away.

So if your running a NetApp array that is direct connected to their UCS w/o an MDS or even a 5548 with the FC module, its no longer technically supported and you very well may run into issues if you need Vendor support.

For those not familiar with direct connecting the storage i’ll give a little but of information on it, as well as some of my experiences with it and some tips on making it “work” with UCS.

So inside the 6120 there is effectivly a very very dumb MDS switch.  There is no Zoning, it is all 1 big zone, you do vSANs, but obviously no inter-vSAN routing, no security, no real way of even getting any initiator/target information for troubleshooting purposes.

In order to even use the functionality, you must change the Fiber portion of the switch from “End-Host Mode” to “Switch Mode”.  This is EXTREMELY similar in method and functionality to switching the Network side to “Switch Mode”.

You MUST also make sure to select the default vSAN that is created upon inital set-up, and enable “Default Zoning”

Intersting note you MUST absolutely make sure the HBA name in the Boot Policy is the EXACT same as the HBA name in the HBA Template, or it won’t boot.
So again, in my opinion if you can avoid direct connecting your SAN storage to the 6120, please avoid it, at least until UCS 2.0 comes out  🙂


text:
Why Are EVs the Future For Last-Mile Delivery?

Electric delivery vehicles are becoming a more common sight on inner city roads

low-emission zones

Increasingly, low-emission zones in cities like London and Berlin, or other state and local regulations, will gradually force fleet companies to deploy more and more electric vehicles.

environmental awareness

The growing environmental awareness will give rise to pressure from customers, both courier and postal services, but above all directly to online stores where they make purchases.

EV Features

EVs can be more comfortable for drivers on short distances because they’re quick to start, virtually silent, and smooth to drive. All these features show EVs are perfect for urban driving.

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A Guide for Last-Mile Delivery Solutions

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Compact and high-density motors able to achieve impressive performance, available with AC and PMAC technology with surface or internal magnets. Designed and manufactured by Benevelli Group.

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Benevelli will present new products in 2020

We need more mobility, but we must do it in a smarter way. Intelligent transportation systems rely on an integrated approach between infrastructure, technology and the legal framework. At present, ICT is currently used by last mile delivery companies to increase efficiency of their own routes.

The ultimate goal should be smart mobility

The ultimate goal should be smart mobility: a combination of electrification, connectivity and automation to achieve six zeros: zero emissions, zero energy (EVs charged by sustainable electricity generation), zero congestion, zero accidents, zero empty (ensuring all space is used within last mile delivery vehicles) and zero cost (shared ownership, lower maintenance cost).

Speak to our Specialists today

About Benevelli

Over 50 years of experience. From local market to worldwide one, this is the history of Mr. Emidio Benevelli that on 1962 founded what would become the company that still bears his name. He began building gearboxes and mechanical inverters for agricultural and construction markets, always aiming for maximum quality. Today, under the leadership of his son Alberto, the company exports to over 40 countries and it's the market leader in the construction of transaxles and power drive units for electric vehicles.

Driving the future of Electric vehicles

Benevelli Srl | Via Salerno 28 | 42048 Italy | VAT 01863920359


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The Absolute Most Ignored Answer For nutrition

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Sports activities Video Video games

Sports activities Video Video games

Sports Games
Hey there, sports followers! If you’d like to remodel your home, workplace, or different gathering place right into a sports bar or recreation room environment, Entertainment Limitless has dozens of sports activities sport choices that will maintain your company competing all day and night. The sport also embrace a number of the greatest graphics in a cell recreation that we’ve seen.

You craft a crew from present gamers, actually play soccer, and build your dynasty from there. No baseball game released previous to EWB was anywhere close as fantastically graphically, and the baseball was really lifelike. My favourite video games are the mini-golf and volleyball, however there are seven games to chose from – Basketball, Croquet, Lawn Darts, Badminton, Volleyball, Horse Footwear, and 9 uniquely-themed Mini-Golf holes.

Once both player legally pockets a ball after the initial break shot, that participant is assigned the group of balls they pocketed from: For instance, if the primary ball you legally pocket is a striped ball, you might be assigned to pocket all of the striped balls and your opponent is assigned to pocket the entire strong-colored balls.

After you’ve gotten made the go, the player closest to the pass trajectory will start to transfer in direction of the most effective place obtainable that will permit him to catch the ball. 7 Within the Seventies, arcade video video games started to appear, many of them centered around the sports genre, after it was popularized by the first commercially profitable online game, Atari ‘s Pong (1972).

The Longest Sports Games In America’s Historical past

Sports Games

Good PS3 Sports Games Out

Drawback-solving expertise and strategic planning are also key to your success as you try and outwit your opponents with excessive-stage plays on offense, defense, and special teams.
Sports Games
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Sports Tickets

This is an introduction to a world of extremely fun games performed with cube. It is a wild mixture that works surprisingly effectively – and, troublesome as it could sound, it’s truly a lot simpler than Rocket League to pick up and play for brand spanking new gamers. They’re both respectable sports video games. There are plenty of different standard sports such as hockey, soccer, golf, NASCAR, horse racing and more.

First stone of the method, the Declaration of Punta del Este (MINEPS III) aimed toward selling the safeguarding and improvement of TSG via the elaboration of a worldwide checklist of traditional games and sports and governmental support. As in real baseball each group rolls for 9 innings.

Sports Games
The ten prime sports activities games for the Nintendo Wii are chosen for interaction by the participant. A draft Charter of Traditional Games and Sports activities was elaborated and followed by Resolution 21 on the desirability and scope of a global charter on traditional games and sports (Normal convention of UNESCO, 2005). Play soccer or basketball towards the computer or problem your greatest pals in epic matches.

I feel 2k sports activities have one of the best all around games in the business. If an opponent intercepts the ball, reaches the ultimate vacation spot before it reaches your participant or before you make your subsequent cross you will lose the ball, and the round. Any method you play, you will love the real feel of the game.
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Good games are hard to come back by lately. Gamers go head-to-head with different people from world wide, and normally, you’ll be able to even see the face of the individual you are taking part in, if their save is related to Fb. If you want to get your baseball on but with out paying a dime, MLB Excellent Inning is the perfect free-to-play possibility on the market.

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A User’s First Contribution To Your Forum

Last week we examined 8 Reasons Why People Don’t Contribute To Your Forum. Of course, that research prompts an obvious follow-up question: what steps should you take to increase participation?

Readers of this blog know that one of the things we obsess about is the participation rate. How many visitors are on the forum? What percentage of visitors are logged in? How many users are active in the last month? To improve these metrics we need to understand what compels users to make their first contribution.

When it comes to a user’s first contribution, we call it the “foot in the door” technique. In a famous example, researchers asked property owners to place a small, safety-oriented sign in their front yard. Later, the researchers returned and asked to replace the small sign with a much bigger sign. They found that those who agreed to the first request were more receptive to the follow up request. Similar studies have been done to study recycling efforts and to reduce drunk driving.

Researches who conducted one of the earliest FITD studies back in 1966 summarized their findings as follows:

“Once someone has agreed to a small request he is more likely to comply with a larger request.”

This is a lesson we keep in mind when building a forum community. We keep the registration as fast as possible and we ensure that adding a new post is fast, fun, and obvious.

But a user’s first contribution does not have to be a post or a new thread. Therefore, we offer many other simple ways to participate: upvoting a post, adding a photo to the gallery, or awarding a badge to another user. These activities still have the effect of “loading the trigger” for subsequent participation.

Oh, and of course, we create a friendly, positive, and constructive atmosphere so that users feel comfortable participating. After all, if the researchers in the experiment described above had gone door-to-door with a mean or condescending attitude, we presume that most everyone would have refused even their first request.

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Cleaning Rat Pop

The existence of rats in an individual house is a health risk since they carry various diseases which can make one feel sick. For the safety and one’s health aspect, one is advised to clean thoroughly the places or areas the rats have visited. It is mostly vital to consider to clean the areas where an individual prepares food and also the place where the food is eaten or consumed. During the process of cleaning rat poop in the house, special equipment or chemicals are not required. For excellent results household, cleaning products which are commonly used are ideal to be considered. The combination of various chemicals is not allowed. The instruction on the bottle of the disinfectant should be followed strictly to make sure they are safe to apply to the surfaces which a person needs to clean. An individual should wear gloves which are disposable so that one is fully protected.

Great tips

Rat droppings or Poop

hghghghghThe mouse poops or droppings usually measure up to nineteen millimeters long. These mouse droppings should not sweep or vacuumed since it may cause dust to settle in the air where any individual can breathe it inside his or her body organs.

One is recommended to dampen the rat droppings by spraying using a household detergent or a disinfectant which is diluted. For the disinfectant to work correctly, a duration of five minutes should be allowed. The rat droppings should be wiped using a paper towel, a disposable cloth or a wet piece of cloth. The rat poop should be disposed in a bag and then thrown them once the cleaning process has ended.

Rodent urine

A person will not find pools of urine of rats since they urinate while moving from one place to another. Therefore an individual might not be able to see the rat urinal. The rat urine is eliminated by mopping or wiping the affected hard areas with a disinfectant solution. If the carpets, clothing, and beddings are infected, they can be shampooed and laundered.

Removal of the rat bodies

ghghghghIf a person finds a dead rat, one is advised not to touch it with his or her bare hands. When disposing of a trapped or poisoned rat, a person should wear gloves or use a plastic bag. The dead rodent should be disposed of in a sealed plastic bag. In some cases, an individual will not be able to locate the body of the dead rat.


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Police/Fire, Traffic

Vehicle overturns in Joppa crash on I-95

Crews are on the scene of a serious, Monday night crash in Joppa.

The crash was reported at about 11 p.m. along southbound Interstate 95 at the Mountain Road exit.

One vehicle overturned in the accident and three of four southbound lanes are closed along I-95.

Story continues below

One person was said to be trapped and in need of rescue.

Motorists should use caution in the area.

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ACLU Represents an Illegal Organ Thief

Honestly, I wish there were enough vital organs for everyone. Alas, there are a fixed amount of healthy human livers available to transplant to a long waiting list of people who need them to survive. As people wait on that list, they grow weaker and sicker, often dying before their number gets called. Americans waiting on that list not only have to navigate our absurdly corrupt and expensive healthcare system, but they must also accept that anybody from anywhere in the world can illegally cross the border and pass them in line for this life-saving treatment.

With the help of an ACLU which no longer represents Americans whose civil liberties have been violated (trust me, I asked), illegal immigrant Silvia Lesama-Santos is receiving a vital organ which had previously been assigned to an American citizen. American Civil liberties don’t actually apply to illegal immigrants, but these ACLU globalists intend to just pretend that everyone’s an American citizen with all of the rights and privileges entailed and none of the obligations to pay our taxes or obey our laws. Forget about your jobs, …now they’re taking your liver!

The ACLU of Oregon had been involved in advocating for Lesama-Santos, and publicizing the denial of care for her, which its director, Mat dos Santos called “cruel and inhumane.”

“My mother’s only chance at survival is to receive a liver transplant, but OHSU has denied her because she is undocumented,” Lesama-Santos’s son Ivan Gonzalez Lesama said in an ACLU release. “They won’t even let her get on the waiting list while we look for another hospital who will help her.”

As a citizen of Mexico, she qualifies for their vital organ waiting list in their own country. She wasn’t actually denied life-saving treatment. She was merely denied the privilege of cutting across our border and cutting to the front of our citizens’ organ donation waiting list. If I were to attempt to sneak into Mexico and put myself on their waiting list, I would be denied that favor by Mexican citizens who correctly assert that they have to take care of their own, first. And then I would probably lose a kidney to their black market organ trade on the way out.

A common misconception is that America’s wealthy enough to pay for everybody’s problem everywhere. That’s false. It’s also a common misconception that the illegals are creating so much wealth when they break in that they make us all wealthier in the process. That’s also false. Sometimes life boils down to a simple zero-sum proposition: Do Americans get it or do foreigners get it? With lifesaving organ transplant waiting lists, this moral issue is especially stark.

To even raise the proposition that perhaps Americans should fight for what’s theirs is to be accused of racism and ignorance. I don’t care. Some American, somewhere, who probably also has an adorable family, will die a needless and painful death because the organ donor registry’s administrators were afraid of being called racist. Our people are not permitted advocates, are not allowed to fundraise for ourselves, and are actively denied the legal protections and support eagerly afforded to illegals.

About Matt Parrott 98 Articles
Matt Parrott is a low IQ wignat LARPing costume clown.

  1. As an Australian, I had to joogle what ‘ACLU’ actually was short for. Two words ‘civil liberties’ were in the title. That alone told me everything I needed to know.

  2. One reason, among many, that I’m no longer an organ donor. Speaking of which, apparently the D66 party in the Netherlands has proposed a change in the law (apparently a good possibility it will pass) to change organ donation there from opting “in” with a card to the opposite: everyone will be a mandatory donor unless they specifically opt out, with all that implies. Story is at neocon site Gates of Vienna, which still features some solid information about White Europeans.

    • Another reason to never be a donor is because they cut the organs out without the use of anesthetics. Nurses have reported the victims squirming around or trying to jump off the table while they are being eviscerated. The organs have to be taken while the person is alive, and the heart is the last one to be harvested, so you get to feel every little bit of the procedure. Imagine them taking the corneas, then the kidneys, then the liver, and finally the lungs and heart.

  3. It’ll be a real shame I tell you, when Whites finally wipe the crust from their eyes and can SEE and begin to target their true enemies.

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• General 14.02.2021

    Worldwide, the main feature of ignition, which provides early detection is the smoke, because the vast majority at the first stage of a fire is smoldering material, accompanied by smoke, but only Subsequently, there are pockets of open flame, and hence heat. That's why smoke detectors are so popular. Kinds of smoke detectors: 1) Simple smoke detector. They send a signal to fire the device, which in turn turn, includes a siren. Determine if this is the room in which a fire occurred, it is often difficult. 2) Addressable smoke detector. Click Jennifer Guerriero, PhD, to learn more.

    Their application allows you to accurately determine the location of fire at actuated sensor. 3) Analogue smoke detector. This smoke detector does not record the increase in the concentration of smoke, and acts as a meter. It produces the preliminary signals of a suspected fire situation before how the threshold is triggered sensor. The main parameters of the smoke detector are sensitivity, which depends on the ability of the smoke detector in time to detect the smoke and the possibility of a false signal. When lack of proper maintenance on the walls of the smoke chamber, a layer of dust, which can occur false alarm. On the dust, this is really an important issue in the flue sensors, we should say especially. Dust accumulation inside the smoke chamber leads to false positives, if the detector is in the draft – a process that occurs quickly enough.

    If the room is not very dusty and there is strong air flow, this process slows down. In simple smoke detectors to track and monitor the accumulation of dust is practically impossible, therefore, in accordance with the rules of sensors have to disassemble and clean, which naturally requires material costs. Analogue addressable smoke detector offset dusting during operation, they are much more protected from false positives, allow in-service determine the level of dust. That is, one can predict when a particular detector needs cleaning. Analogue sensors can automatically predict the timing of maintenance, that is, the control device compensates for the slow change in the level of the signals it receives from each sensor, and taking into account the range of compensation and the time of operation, automatically calculates and displays the data on Display control panel projected date of service.

    Posted by millionaire @ 9:26 pm for General |

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Friday, July 30 2021

October 30, 2017

International investors pumped $3bn into Indian capital markets

Foreign investors infused 3 billion dollars in the Indian capital markets so far this month due to high nominal and real yields and stable macroeconomic conditions. Most of the funds have been infused in the debt markets.According to the latest depository data, FPIs invested a net sum of Rs. 2,806 crore in the stock markets and another Rs. 15,132 crore in debt, taking the total to Rs. 17,938 crore during October 3-27.This follows a net outflow of over Rs. 10,000 crore from the capital markets last month. Prior to that, they had pumped in Rs. 1.78 lakh crore in the preceding six months (February-August).


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Southern Cinnamon Rolls

The other day Mary begged me for some cinnamon rolls. Since I have a terrible sweet tooth, I didn't mind at all. Let's just say the entire pan of them lasted for about 30 minutes if that.

1/4 -ounce package yeast
1/2 cup warm water
1/2 cup scalded milk
1/4 cup sugar
1/3 cup butter
1 teaspoon salt
1 egg
4 cups all-purpose flour

1/2 cup melted butter, plus more for pan
3/4 cup sugar, plus more for pan
2 tablespoons ground cinnamon

4 tablespoons butter
2 cups powdered sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
4 tablespoons hot water

Heat oven to 350 degrees F. In a small bowl, dissolve yeast in warm water and set aside. In a large bowl mix milk, sugar, melted butter, salt and egg. Add 2 cups of flour and mix until smooth. Add yeast mixture. Mix in remaining flour until dough is easy to handle. Knead dough on lightly floured surface for 5 to 10 minutes. Place in well-greased bowl, cover and let rise until doubled in size, usually 1 to 1 1/2 hours. When doubled in size, punch down dough. Roll out on a floured surface into a 15 by 9-inch rectangle. Spread melted butter all over dough. Mix sugar and cinnamon and sprinkle over buttered dough. Beginning at the 15-inch side, role up dough and pinch edge together to seal. Cut into 12 to 15 slices. Coat the bottom of baking pan with butter and sprinkle with sugar. Place cinnamon roll slices close together in the pan and let rise until dough is doubled, about 45 minutes. Bake for about 30 minutes or until nicely browned. Meanwhile, mix butter, powdered sugar, and vanilla. Add hot water 1 tablespoon at a time until the glaze reaches desired consistency. Spread over slightly cooled rolls.


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For duplex board paper making project, customers ordered our whole paper pulping line machine, which would be used in their paper mill. Besides, we also provide paper board machine.

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Thursday, August 11, 2011

10 Things I learned Writing a Book

So it has been almost two months since the launch of my first but not last book. It has been quite a learning experience and so I will share with you ten things I have learned about the book writing process.

(If you are married) It is very important that you have the support of your spouse. I am fortunate enough to have that. There will be those times where 10:00 p.m. you are all of a sudden feeling creative…it is great to have a spouse that understands that.

2. If you are not writing about something vanilla then don’t expect to get the endorsement from people/organizations you would have thought or asked. People get very nervous around people who are not afraid to look at things differently and truly share their opinion. This point was and remains a huge let down for me. Unreturned emails and phone calls are something I would never expect but it happens.

3. You can expect to get endorsements from those you least likely expected. I was amazed and blessed by those who are simply jazzed by authentic conversation and opinions. From missionaries to those would call themselves atheists, I got endorsements from these people. Awesome.

4. Be sure to get a great publisher. I am blessed to have one and it makes the process all the more easy.

5. People automatically assume because you wrote a book then you must be rich. Quite simply put….NOPE. I went the route of self-publishing and that is no different than an independent artist…lots of leg work.

6. Surprisingly those who you thought as near friends will end up bailing because your thoughts are not their thoughts. Again…people get very nervous around people who are not afraid to look at things differently and truly share their opinion.

7. It is amazing how many people mention “I am not sure about your book…would you mind giving me a free one?” What?

8. Don’t release your book too soon. As my friend, Darin Hufford told me “There is a lot of preliminary work that needs to be done before you launch your book.” I now know that to be true.

9. Self-publishing is a great route to go. If you do get picked up with a book deal stay true to who you are.

10. No matter how silly or irrelevant something may be that you are writing…use it. I am simply amazed at the comments I get from people on entries in my book that I thought were actually kind of goofy.

Fact of the matter is that the book writing process is long, fun, hard, great, difficult and yet rewarding. My biggest let down has not been lack of sales. The fact is I gave away many copies. My biggest let down is with those who I thought would have supported this project. Ah well…the things you learn to make the journey all the sweeter. I sure have made many new friends through the process and for that I am so grateful!

  1. I've thought, a time or two, about taking a few of my blog posts and using them as a launch pad for a book but have yet to attempt it; when I do I'll have to keep your points in mind. Thanks for sharing them.

  2. Interesting how people react to your thoughts. It's a lot like when people hear that your life is dedicated to God in general - some people just can't handle it. You have a very good book out there Bob. Endorsements weren't the reason you wrote it in the first place right?
    - Andre (friend and fan)


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Providing high quality, flexible

and affordable childcare

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Mobile Crèche

We can provide a mobile crèche facility throughout Ayrshire for children up to 12 years of age.

The crèche is staffed by qualified, experienced staff and we supply all equipment – games, toys, arts & crafts etc.

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•Opening hours;                         6.30am to 10.30pm – 7 days a week

 Sitter Service Co-ordinator:  Craig Sim

•Tel no:                                         01563 549804

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PEACE Childcare is a company Limited by Guarantee. Charitable Status no: SC030571 Registered in Scotland SC340432

Website Design By Chris Scullion: [email protected]


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Saturday, April 16, 2011

Why Preserve Produce?

Some preserved produce I made
Preserving produce has been the task of gardeners (and their wives) for millennia. Produce was grown in the warmer months and needed to last throughout the cold, winter months where little, if anything grew. With gardening, often much food is ripe at the same time, too much to be able to use it all at once without it spoiling, unless some is preserved for later.

A reader asked me the following, good question in the comments, which I  felt deserved a full post in response.
"I'm not sure I understand why you have to buy seasonal vegetables and fruits in bulk. I like to buy whats in season and its usually the freshest and cheapest. If it's not there a few weeks later, I buy something else. Is it because you don't have a car and have to limit your trips? I applaud your energy in getting this all done, in any case."
If I'm not a farmer or gardener, and instead purchase my vegetables, why don't I just buy "normal" amounts of in season produce instead of buying a lot at once, and why do I preserve my produce?

I go shopping for all our needs once a month for many reasons; I've blogged about them before. In short, the more often you shop, the more frequently one enters the grocery store, the more money will be spent. Dividing a shop into two trips doesn't make you spend half the money each trip. The total of two "half trips" will be more than one "complete trip". Secondly, the more trips to the grocery, the more money spent on transportation, whether gas and parking, or bus fare and delivery.

I preserve my produce for a few reasons, among them wanting them to last between grocery trips, but also because I never want to pay full price for produce if I can help it. I got most of the produce this past Tuesday for 5-12 cents a pound- if I can buy a huge amount now at these insanely low prices and preserve them for when these prices aren't available, then I've accomplished what I hoped to do.

I used to just buy whatever was a loss leader that trip (my shop always has at least a few veggies each week on sale) but I remember this past summer a heat wave damaged lots of produce crops, tremendously upping the price of the things that survived. There were no decently priced fruits or veggies for a long while. Since then, I've started buying excess low priced produce and preserving, so I never have to pay full price, and especially not sky high prices, ever again. Next heat wave- I'm raiding my stockpile.

Do you buy produce in bulk and preserve? Why or why not?
Do you preserve any vegetables?
What is your method of fruit and vegetable shopping? How frequently do you do it, and what do you usually buy? Only seasonal produce or whatever piques your interest?

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WP3: Capacity building for teachers and researchers

D 3.1

Authors: Martha Crean, Ellie Hart, University of Bristol, Livio Riboli-Sasco, Claire Ribrault, Atelier Les Jours á venir

PERFORM brought science early career researchers (ECRs) together with performers, teachers and secondary school students to develop performance-based activities that explored Responsible Research and Innovation (RRI) and the human dimension of science.

D 3.2

Authors: Martha Crean, Hannah Berg, University of Bristol

PERFORM brought teachers and students together with early career researchers and performers to develop performances, to encourage a more reflective understanding of science and its role in society.


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Five stars for Coral International Cape Town

{ Posted on Aug 13 2013 by B-man }
Categories : Travel news

The Coral International Hotel, which opened in Cape Town a few weeks ago, has earned a five-star grading from the Tourism Grading Council of SA.

Hotel GM Jacqui Booyzen says the Dubai headquartered hotel group has ambitious plans to expand into Africa and Asia over the next 24 months.

“Securing a five-star rating with our first South African hotel is extremely encouraging,” she says.

“Not only does it confirm that our property is world class, but it reinforces that we run a best-in-class premium hotel,” she says.

Booyzen, a South African hotelier who spent seven years in the Middle East, says that this accolade is testament to the passion that her team has put into offering a superior service.

Since the launch six weeks ago the hotel has attracted guests who have travelled extensively and who are used to experiencing world-class service.

“We have taken the best that Arabian hospitality has to offer,” says Booyzen. “This goes beyond building a unique hospitality experience and extends to working with our locally sourced team to deliver an exceptional customer service that goes beyond that offered by our peers.”

A member of HMH (Hospitality Management Holdings), Coral Hotels & Resorts is headquartered in Dubai and has spread to key destinations in the Middle East and North, South and East Africa.

Founded in 2003, HMH – Hospitality Management Holdings – is one of the fastest growing, fully-integrated hotel management and development companies in the Middle East. HMH offers a complete spectrum of options in hotel categories from top-end luxury hotels to budget properties. It has four distinct hotel brands: Coral Hotels & Resorts, Corp Executive Hotels, ECOS Hotels and EWA Hotel Apartments.

Despite the global economic downturn, HMH says it is forging ahead with plans to expand its network of 33 hotels. It plans to open 20 new hotels by the end of 2010 – increasing the group’s total number of rooms by more than 40%.

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Christmas Hampers 2016

Portadown Cares strives to help those in need. The work that we do in the shop is our only source of funding and we try our best to help as many families as possible. Each year, Portadown Cares launches a Hamper appeal to provide food and toys for those who may not be able to support themselves at this expensive time of year. In these hampers, there are ingredients to make a Christmas Dinner and some other luxuries including crisps, chocolate and tinned food. Local people in the community are invited to fill out nomination forms to nominate someone they believe would benefit from a Hamper, and the process is completely anonymous. We are often greeted by shocked and thankful faces as the people who receive the Hampers are completely unaware that they have been nominated, and are very grateful that they can have a Merry Christmas. If there are kids in the family, we try our best to provide a few bags of toys for the families to wrap up to have something under the tree.

This year we managed to make up and deliver over 140 hampers to the local people of Portadown. It took a lot of teamwork and coordination from our committee and volunteers to get these hampers ready to go. The public have been fantastic by donating toys and food for the hampers as well as showing their support and we just want to say a big Thank You to all who donated for this cause!  Your continued support will help us to fund our Hamper Appeal in 2017!


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We have been serving our clients with a qualitative range of N220 Carbon Black for our huge clientele base. It is used for tires, plastics, toners and coatings applications, and also in industrial rubber products such as hoses, belts and gaskets. N220 Carbon Black is offered in black color powder form in safe packaging in air tight Bags. It is the furnace black which has high structure, and its abrasion lies between that of super abrasion furnace black and high abrasion furnace black.

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bowls crest

Bowls Club

Founded 1928

Affiliated to Bowls England, ECBA, ECWBA and PPABC

bowls-england-logo ecba ecwba

Priory Park

The Park Gates and Pump

Priory Park is located in Victoria Avenue, Southend and is set in 45 acres of parkland.

It was opened by the Duke of York, (later George VI) on 14th July 1920.

The park caters for a variety of leisure activities - football, cricket, bowling, tennis, basketball, fishing, childrens' playground, café, museums and gardens and ponds, some of which are included on this website.

Our first association with the park was in 1928 when the club was formed and it has been our home ever since.

The ornate gates to the Park commemorate the opening of Priory Park by HRH The Duke of York on 14 July 1920.

150 years before the Park and Victoria Avenue, a small bridge crossed Prittle Brook.  The road, then called North Street, was little more than a muddy country lane to Rochford. The remains of the village pump can be seen on the south side of the Brook.

A weatherboarded cottage was on the north side, beyond which were the enclosed grounds of the Priory, at that time a private house.  A handful

of cottages were on the right hand side - some of which still remain.  On the other side of the lane was Earls Hall, a medieval manor house and farm.

To the south, the lane went up the hillside to the Parish church at the top.  Scattered buildings along the lower part of the lane, including the village school, became more densely packed as the lane reached the Church which, of course, was the heart of the village.

We are a mixed bowling club that uses the local council greens within Priory Park and shares our pavilion with two other ladies clubs.

We have the largest and probably the best bowling greens in the area, with a superb pavilion and facilities.  Club days are Monday and Thursday, but games are played every day.  Greens are always available and we can offer free coaching by any one of our six qualified coaches.

We invite membership applications from men and women, and new and experienced bowlers of all ages are very welcome.  Please go to the Membership Page.

The Bandstage The Ponds

The Bandstage

The Ponds

bowls crest

Prittlewell Priory

Prittlewell Priory was founded by Robert FitzSuen in 1110 AD.

FitzSuen owned vast estates in south east Essex. His grandfather had been one of several French families given lands by Edward the Confessor.   However, FitzSuen seems to have given part of his estates in Prittlewell to the monks of St. Pancras, Lewes in Sussex for the foundation of a Priory of the order of Cluny.  St. Pancras was the ‘mother’ house of Cluny in England.  Cluny was in Burgundy in France, and had become a favoured monastic foundation because on its very strict regime.  There were three Cluniac houses in Essex, Prittlewell being by far the largest.  Other Cluniac Priories in south east England include Castle Acre and Bromholm, both in Norfolk.

The rest of the Prittlewell estates seem to have been retained by the family, and were inherited eventually by the Earls of Oxford (the de Veres).  This area then became known as Earls Hall.

The Priory was supported by the income from lands, property and churches in many of the surrounding parishes.  This included some properties in the town of Prittlewell itself, especially along the north side of East Street, together with properties stretching down to the shore of the Thames, adjacent to the manor of Southchurch.  In the 15th century this area was known as South End – the south end of the lands of the Priory.

Prittlewell Priory was largely self-sufficient.  The Priory comprised the conventional buildings for religious purposes (the church, the refectory, Priory storerooms or cellars and Prior’s chamber, and the Chapter House with dormitory above.   All of these were arranged around the Cloisters.

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