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He had replaced five light bulbs that day, and by late afternoon he couldn’t help anticipating the soft ping of the element flying apart whenever he reached for a switch. The third time—the fixture on the landing—the thought zigzagged across his mind that these little explosions were a sign, like the two dogs he had come across in the autumn, greyhound and bulldog, locked together on the grassy slope of the local park. He had given them a wide berth; still, he’d felt responsible on the bus the next day when a man had turned puce and slid to the floor. By the fifth light, though, he had given up on superstition and was blaming London Electricity. Some irregularity in the current, some unexpected surge, was slaughtering the bulbs.

The Barrows were away, at a conference in Latvia, which was why the decorating was being done now, but they were the sort of people who kept spares—he could tell from their orderly supplies of toilet paper and condiments—just not in any place he could find. Meanwhile, he gradually emptied the upstairs rooms, slipping the bulbs from bedside lights and desk lamps. Next time he went to the shops, he’d pick up a pack and add it to his bill under “Miscellaneous.”

Later, of course, the little zaps made perfect sense. But when the doorbell rang Zeke set aside the wallpaper steamer without a shard of premonition. Often, if he was up a ladder, he didn’t answer the knocks and rings of late afternoon—after all, they were never for him—but now the pallor of the sky, the flashes of light and dark, the weariness of working alone all conspired to make even the prospect of rebuffing a double-glazing salesman, or a greasy-haired collector for Oxfam, a pleasure. Last Friday, in a similar mood, he’d found a chap on the doorstep, thin as a junkie, pretending to be blind. He had the dark glasses, the white cane, the fluttery stuff with the hands. “You’re a painter,” the man had said, sniffing slightly. Zeke had ended up giving him fifty pence.

“But how do you know he was a con man?” his mother had asked that night on the phone. “People compensate.”

“I was looking out of the window and I saw him in the street, checking the ‘A to Z.’ ”

“Barmy,” his mother said, but there was a note of admiration in her voice, as if a fake blind man might be closer to her ideal son than a conscientious decorator.

Now the door swung open and a woman, no collecting tin, no clipboard, filled his vision. He hadn’t replaced the bulb in the hall yet, and in the dim light her features took a few seconds to assemble. He made out abrupt dark eyebrows above a substantial nose and plump, glistening lips, as if the inside of her mouth had flowed alarmingly onto the outside.

For a moment, Zeke was baffled. Then he went through the steps he’d learned from the poster at the clinic. Eyes wide, a glimpse of teeth, corners of the mouth turning up rather than down: usually these indicated a smile that could, he knew, mean anger but more often meant friendliness. Yes, she was smiling, although not necessarily at him. Her expression had clearly been prepared in advance, but Zeke admired the way she held her face steady at the sight of him, and of his work clothes. His jeans and shirt were so paint-spattered as to be almost a separate entity.

“Good afternoon.” She stretched out her hand and, seeing his, white with Spackle, faltered, neither withdrawing nor completing the gesture.

“Hi,” he said, hating the single, stupid syllable. She was tall for a woman, his height save for the doorstep, and dimly familiar, though not as herself. As she began to speak, he realized who she reminded him of: the bust of Beethoven on his father’s piano. Something about the expansiveness of her features, the way her tawny hair sprang back from her forehead.

“I’m the niece,” she said.

Her breath streamed toward him, a chilly plume, carrying more words, perhaps an entire sentence, which Zeke lost as he blinked away Beethoven. “I’m the decorator,” he said. “The Barrows are away.”

“But they told you I would be here,” she said with no hint of a question.

She stooped to pick up the large black suitcases on either side of her, and as she straightened he saw that she was pregnant. She stepped past him—the word “pushed” came to mind—and set the cases, gently, at the foot of the stairs. “Where are you working?”

He nodded toward the living room. She stood in the empty doorway—the door was at the strippers—surveying the room. Under the influence of her attention, Zeke saw again what his work had revealed: the ragged plaster painted not a single color but in pale bands of blue and brown, gray and yellow, the work of some unknown artist. In the middle of the floor the furniture was piled up and draped in dust sheets, like some ungainly prehistoric animal.

“Groovy,” she said. “We should do a mural—hunting and fishing, golfing and shopping.”

“I don’t think your aunt and uncle . . .” Then he caught himself: humor. That had always been tricky for him. Even the question about the hen crossing the road could make him pause. “I told them it was a big job. You never know what you’ll find when you strip off the paper. And Emmanuel, the guy who helps me, did his back in.”

“How?” she said.

“How”—she patted the small of her back—“did he bugger up his back?”

“Reaching for a corner. Snooker, not painting.” In the bare space, their voices took on burly undertones. Hers was deep, anyway. As for his, Zeke wasn’t sure. He had read that humans hear their own voices through the jaw, not the air; every time a tooth is lost or filled, the timbre changes.

“Aren’t they due back this week?” she said.

“The nineteenth, they told me.”

Finally she shrugged off her coat, revealing a dark-green dress. The heating was on full blast, not his bill, and the house was as snug as a tea cozy. She retreated to sling her coat over the banister and then came back into the room with that greedy, pushing motion. As she turned, he saw again, silhouetted against the window, her belly. Who would have expected the whey-faced Barrows to have a niece like this? And older than he’d thought, he saw now, as the light caught the little line like an exclamation mark between her eyebrows.

“Don’t let me stop you,” she said, her nose, her lavish mouth, bearing down, “working.”

A sentence appeared in Zeke’s head: I’d like to tie you to the bed. How did that get there, inside his brain, about this woman?

“I was taking a break,” he said. “Anyway.”

He was no longer certain that she was ugly, only that he wanted to keep looking to make sure. But in the empty room he didn’t dare. This must be why people had furniture: not just for comfort but, like clothing, for camouflage. And why interrogation and torture were traditionally carried out in sparsely furnished spaces.

“When I was fifteen,” she said, and her tone was such that he couldn’t tell if she was talking to him or to herself, “my parents let me paint my room. We were a family—this probably sounds absurd—who never painted anything. First I wrote on the wall the things I wanted to be rid of: hypocrisy, mother, father, brother. Then I slapped on the paint, deep purple.”

“Did it work?”

Her head swivelled in his direction, and he had the sense of being seen at last. “Not,” she exhaled, “entirely. But I did like the feeling of making my mark. Do you ever get the glums?”

“No,” he said. And then the word seemed to leap from his larynx: “Sometimes.” To his own stupefaction, he imagined telling her the whole deformed story, the one his mother wanted to wrap in euphemisms, like offal in newspaper, and chuck in the dustbin. “Why ‘brother’?” he asked.

“I have one.” Her eyebrows dashed together. “In America, maybe.” She seized a wallpaper brush and fingered the gluey bristles. “Years ago, I was hitching near Oxford, and a polystyrene salesman picked me up. The back seat of his car was full of those nice white containers, all different sizes. It started to rain, bucketing down, the windscreen wipers going lickety-split, and he said, ‘Do you ever think of killing yourself?’ His voice was so casual, I was sure I’d misunderstood, like you just now. I said, ‘Sometimes.’ ”

Zeke blinked again rapidly.

“Then he asked if I’d read ‘Steppenwolf.’ I said yes, though to be honest I wasn’t sure. It’s one of those books that were in the ether for a while. I looked over at this porky, red-faced, middle-aged bloke and his eyes were brimming. ‘I have,’ he said. ‘Every day I think of it. There’s always the razor and the knife.’ ”

She set aside the brush and flicked a roll of lining paper. “Are you taking off the paper just to put it on again?”

The Barrows, her aunt and uncle, had asked that, too. He explained about the old houses of London, how the walls were held up by wood-chip paper. When you removed it, the best way to get a smooth finish was to put on lining paper and paint over that.

“Cup of tea?” he suggested, and, cursing himself, backed out of the room. Once, maybe twice a year, he had something that resembled a conversation, something that wasn’t about fish fingers or the telly or who was effing whom. And, idiotically, he bolted. Blind rejection was one thing. To be seen, then dismissed, was quite another. He might hate his mother’s mealymouthed phrases—Oh, Zeke’s just under the weather—but the day, six years earlier, that she turned her shiny blue eyes upon him and said, “You’ll end up in the loony bin if you carry on like this,” he had felt as if a pickaxe were aimed at the very center of his forehead.

Afraid to return to the living room, he hovered beside the kettle. Give me another surge, he thought, winging his request to the head office. He heard a sound from the hall, one thud followed by another.

“Did I scare you?”

Seeing her stocking feet, he understood not only the noises he’d just heard but those that came most nights through his bedroom ceiling: one shoe, two shoes.

“Which side are you on?” he said.

“Roundheads or cavaliers? Arsenal or Chelsea? Flat earth or solar system?”

“Mr. or Mrs. Barrow.” He pushed a mug of tea toward her. “Whose niece are you?”

“Mr.’s—can’t you tell?” Her eyelids grew wide and her chin rose, as if defying him not to notice the similarity. “Maybe I could take Emmanuel’s place.”

Bewildered, Zeke stared at her feet, not broad like her hands but long and slender in dark-purple hose. Was this humor, too?

“He’s not around,” she said. She sounded so definite that for a moment Zeke wondered if she somehow knew Emmanuel. Then he remembered that he was the one who had told her about him, the snooker and the bad back. “Perhaps I could lend a hand.”

She gave a hoot. “I’m not offering to spend twelve hours a day up a ladder, but some things are easier with two people, like folding sheets.”

I am, Zeke thought, profoundly boring, a notion not contradicted by her announcement that she was going to check out the sleeping arrangements. Heels striking the floor, she carried her tea upstairs.

Normally he quit at five, but today he kept pressing Spackle into even the smallest cracks until close to six-thirty. Then, in the face of an unbroken silence from above, he admitted defeat. He tidied his tools in the way that his old boss Ferdinand had taught him. The two of them had been united in their meticulous attitude toward objects and their hesitation toward people. “You know, they say the brain has pathways,” Ferdinand had said. “Mine are covered with sand.” Zeke washed his hands, and called the news of his departure, wanly, up the stairs.

“Wait.” There she was on the landing. “Are you coming tomorrow? When?” Her face was once again indistinguishable.

“I aim for eight,” he told her. “Shall I bring up your suitcases?”

The word hit him with such force that he grabbed the banister. He was still wondering what he’d done wrong when she added, at more normal volume, “Thanks. I need the keys.” She swam down the stairs, stopping on the last one, hand outstretched. He should have guessed then, from the way her eyes fastened on his, that something was awry, that she wasn’t on good terms with her aunt and uncle or that Ms. F.—weren’t all fetuses female at first?—was a problematic guest, but the warmth of her breath, the lilt of her perfume, expunged rational thought. Helpless, he laid the keys in her palm.

“Will you be up to let me in?” he said.

“Up with the lark.” She made a flapping motion with one hand. “Up with the milkman.”

“Are you all right?” he found himself asking.

“There’s always the razor and the knife,” she said softly. Then—he pictured all the buses in London rising an inch into the air—she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his cheek.

The next morning, Zeke rang the bell, knocked, tried the knob. The door stayed resolutely shut, the windows adamantly blank. He even bent down and called, foolishly, through the letter box, “Hello, it’s me. Zeke.” By the end of five minutes, he was holding on to himself, like a kite on a gusty day. He fished around in his pockets, his bag, and was rewarded with an unmistakable vision of his mobile phone, lying on the floor beside his bed. As he walked to the corner, he counted the fag ends on the pavement, some crushed, some whole, to keep himself from floating away: seven, eight, eleven. Twice he had to stop and retrace his steps to make sure he hadn’t missed one. Look down, he thought, not up. In the forecourt of the underground station, he found a free phone and, trying not to think of all the hands, the mouths, that had touched it, he picked up the receiver and dialled the Barrows’ number. The answering machine clicked on with Mr. Barrow’s brief, nasal message. She’s popped out for a paper, he told himself, she’s taking a bath. Walking back, he forgot the cigarettes and placed his feet, carefully, in the middle of each paving stone.

At the house, nothing had changed. He knocked, rang, shouted again, before climbing in through the living-room window. He had opened it the day before while using the steamer and, in the excitement of her arrival, had neglected his usual security measures. Now the ease with which the sash slid up made him feel stricken; he had left her at the mercy of any passing lunatic or thief.

Inside, he began to tiptoe toward the hall, then, reconsidering, attempted his normal gait. “Hello. Anyone home?”

He turned things on: kettle, radio, lights. No flash and zap today. He made the obligatory cup of tea and set to work. But after ten minutes of sanding he couldn’t bear it. The possibility that she was gone bounded into his head and ricocheted around. And he didn’t even know her name. He laid the sandpaper aside and, wiping his powdery hands on his jeans, climbed the stairs.

He had reconnoitered the first day he had the house to himself—he always did, flitting through bedrooms, checking wardrobes and drawers, cupboards and desks. It wasn’t what Emmanuel thought—snooping for kinky underwear or helpful pills—but the way he coped with strange houses; he picked out a hiding place. Sometimes, when he felt particularly shaky, he even stored provisions there: a bottle of water, a packet of biscuits. Here, at the Barrows’, he’d chosen the pedestal desk in the study. With his knees drawn up, he fit almost perfectly into the dark U.

Now he moved from one light-bulb-less room to another. In the master bedroom, the tattered floral wallpaper made his teeth ache. As did the disorder that seemed, mysteriously, to have worsened since his last visit. The drawers of the dressing table were half-open and several of the photographs on top lay face down. In the study, next to the desk, the row of machines—computer, printer, fax, even a photocopier—winked at him with little red or green lights. Mrs. Barrow worked at home, she’d explained, editing textbooks. Last, their son—Sean’s? Seth’s?—old room. She had mentioned him at their first meeting, only to be cut off by her husband in a tone that suggested the boy was already halfway to hell in a handcart. Zeke knew that his mother had for several months reacted to his name in a similar fashion.

Had he ever been so glad to see a suitcase? The larger of the two lay open at the foot of the bed. Not meaning to snoop, he stared at the contents. Almost half the case was filled with small, multicolored boxes of the kind used for earrings and necklaces; the remainder was occupied by two camera cases, a portable CD player, a clock, and a pair of silver candlesticks. For a moment, Zeke was tempted to count the boxes, each so orderly and distinct. Then he stepped over to the bed and knelt to bury his face in the pillow. Here she was, and here.

The scrape of the front door hurled him to his feet. “Hello,” he called, starting down the stairs.

She was in the hall, levering off her boots, heel to toe. “I went to get us fried-egg sandwiches.” She flourished a paper bag.

“I broke in,” he offered.

“Brilliant,” she said, handing him the bag. In the kitchen he set out plates, salt and pepper, sheets of paper towel. He had had his usual bowl of cereal only an hour ago; but now, following her example, he ate ravenously. She was wearing a faded blue sweatshirt, the sleeves rolled up, the hem stretched tight. How far along was she, he wondered, trying to recall Emmanuel’s sister’s configuration at various stages. Six months, maybe seven. Watching her pepper the egg, he realized that he had dreamed about her the night before.

Only a fragment remained: she was winching a metal bucket, brimming with water, out of a well. But before he could tell her about it she was talking again, describing her stint as an office cleaner when she’d eaten a fried-egg sandwich every day. “We were meant to start at six. Instead we’d come in at eight-thirty, spray Lysol around, and sit down to our sannies. When the suits arrived at nine, they assumed we were taking a well-earned break after hours of work.” She licked her lips, first lower, then upper, in a glistening circle. “So what are we doing today? Putting up paper?”

He began to stammer. He was making good progress. Besides, her aunt and uncle were paying him a fair wage.

“I’m serious,” she said. “I need something to take my mind off things.”

At the time, he assumed a covert reference to Ms. F. Later, when he went back and scrutinized her every utterance, it became one of those mysterious manhole covers, briefly raised over the sewer of secrecy.

Before he could voice any further objections—the dust, the fumes—she had spotted a pair of overalls hanging on the back door, and the next thing he knew she had scrambled into them and was demonstrating how well they fit; her belly split the front like a chestnut its shell. “Come on,” she said. “I bet you’re paid by the job, not the hour.”

At first he was embarrassed telling a woman, older than him by perhaps a decade, what to do, but she turned out to be much more biddable than Emmanuel. As they finished the sanding, he on the ladder, she on foot, she lobbed questions in his direction, and despite her careless manner he sensed that she was, in fact, listening to his answers. Whereas the doctors, to a man and woman, as soon as he opened his mouth, had focussed on pencil sharpeners, radiators, doorknobs. They were paid—not enough, not by him—to barely feign attention, scribble a couple of notes, and, as quickly as possible, write a prescription that would propel him, thank God, out of their offices. But this woman, with her fierce brow, her chapped knuckles, for whatever reason, actually seemed interested.

“So,” she said, folding the sandpaper onto the sanding block, “is decorating the family business? Or your heart’s desire?”

“Neither.” He was longing to ask about her, so he offered himself up, a pound of apples, a fistful of bananas. “My father was a greengrocer in Brighton. Got up at four every day, except Sunday, to buy the fruit and veg. Then he worked until seven at night, hauling sacks of potatoes and chatting up housewives.”

“Did you live near the sea?” she asked.

“Not far. If I stood on my bed on tiptoe, there was a tiny triangle of water.” He had done this precisely once, dismayed at what the maneuver had revealed. Now he climbed down the ladder, moved it four feet, climbed back up, and started on the next stretch of cornice.

“I used to think,” she said, “that life would make sense if I could see the sea every day.”

“Not for me. A street makes sense, a house makes sense, but the sea just goes on and on: wave, wave, wave. I couldn’t wait to get away. We were ten when we moved.” Even the absent-minded doctors had caught these sorts of slips. “Do you see yourself as two people?” a man with a wedge-shaped head had asked, gleefully. Barely one, he had thought but not said. She tapped her sandpaper and said nothing.

In London, Highbury, his father had a new shop, bigger and busier. “I used to help, evenings, Saturdays. Lovely tomatoes. Nice, juicy oranges. Then one day one of our regulars, Mrs. Oma, said, ‘When you’re the boss,’ and suddenly I understood why my father was always pounding away at me about what to order, how to price stuff. I started to pay attention in school, do my homework. It drove him mad. ‘Do you want to be a dreamer all your life,’ he used to say, ‘head stuck in a book?’ ”

“Careful,” she said.

Beneath his savage sanding the ladder swayed like a sapling in the wind. He couldn’t tell the story without jumping back into that old, hopeless arena. Over fresh sandpaper, he admitted that he had studied accounting at university. “I wanted to do anthropology—I’d read a book about the rain-forest tribes of Papua, New Guinea—but I didn’t have the nerve. I needed to know that I was heading toward a job.”

She didn’t ask the obvious question, which, as they began to measure and cut the lining paper, enabled him to answer it. The day after his final exams, he couldn’t leave the house.

“The people I shared with had all gone away, and I’d been looking forward to having the place to myself. But as soon as I stepped outside I worried that I’d left the gas on or the iron or the lights or I hadn’t locked the door or I hadn’t locked the window or I hadn’t flushed the toilet or the cat’s water bowl was empty or my mother was trying to phone. It didn’t matter how often I checked, it didn’t matter if I wrote down that I’d checked, I’d reach the street and have to go back. Remember in ‘Gulliver’s Travels’ when the Lilliputians tie him down? It was like that. Hundreds of strands of anxiety tugging me back. Soon it was easier not to try to get away.”

He slid the scissors through the paper, enjoying the smooth mutter of the blades. “When I got better, I knew I couldn’t be an accountant. I liked numbers, but I couldn’t cope with the people on the other end of them. One of our neighbors did odd jobs, so I started helping him.” A strip of paper released from the roll curled back on itself and fell to the floor; he began on the next. “Ferdinand is—” He stopped, searching for the word that would embody his friend, then gave up. “I felt O.K. with him, and, gradually, he wanted to retire, so I took over the business.”

“Your dad must have gone nuts.”

A hot, dry wind blew through the room. Zeke dropped the scissors. “Break,” he said.

He started to ask questions, the same ones she’d asked him—where she grew up, what her mum and dad did; after all these hours it seemed too late to ask her name. “You know,” she said, “when you reach a certain age people don’t ask what your parents do. They ask what you do.”

But, without waiting, she went on. “My mother, after years as a bored housewife, runs a glorified junk shop. She invents amazing provenances for her goods: this hot-water bottle warmed the feet of Marie Antoinette; Dr. Johnson dipped his pen in this very inkwell. My father used to be a schoolteacher. Now he’s a chancer. He’ll bet on anything: horses, dogs, which of his children will go to rack and ruin first. He’s the kind of person who tells everyone else in the cinema to shut up and then chats away for the rest of the film. I take after both of them.”

“Do you mean that?” Zeke said.

She stopped and looked at him, eyes flickering. “Yes and no. You know how it is. You make every effort not to be like your parents and then you catch yourself tying your shoelaces in exactly the fussy way that your mother does. Or, even worse, doing something you don’t really want to do—leaving a huge tip after a bad meal—just to be different from them.”

She didn’t mention Ms. F., nor did he. Every so often, Zeke would catch himself wondering whether she really existed. Then he would turn around—or her mother would—and there she was.

At lunchtime, she opened a tin of tomato soup and he made cheese sandwiches. They worked on through the darkening afternoon. Oughtn’t she to take a rest? he asked. They could finish the lining paper tomorrow. But she shrugged off the suggestion. The street lights came on, buzzy amber splodges, and in the houses opposite curtains were drawn. He bungled the last piece of paper, an awkward corner, then bungled it again. “If at first you don’t succeed,” she chanted from the foot of the ladder, “try, try, and try again. That was my English teacher’s favorite saying: Robert the Bruce and his stupid spider.”

Two years ago, even one, he might have presumed himself the spider, vermin to be trampled underfoot; today he recognized encouragement. He mounted the ladder once again and, while she described the Scottish king, hiding in a cave, drawing inspiration from the arachnid’s repeated efforts to anchor its web, he smoothed the top of the paper into place and, slowly descending, pressed the seams together.

Now what? he thought, glancing around the neatly papered room. Dismissal?

“Can you make a fire,” she said, “while I forage?”

“A fire?” He saw himself soaking the dust sheets with petrol, the whoompf of flame engulfing the mute furniture. But then she pointed at the fireplace, the grate messy with cinders. Investigation proved that the Barrows had supplies. He rolled newspapers, added kindling, fire lighter, and coal, tasks he hadn’t performed since leaving drafty Brighton. Meanwhile, from the kitchen came various sounds, some recognizable, some not. When he went in, she was at the stove, stirring a saucepan. “Frozen lasagna,” she announced. “Tinned spinach, fresh carrots. There’s beer in the cupboard under the stairs.”

“Thanks. I think I’ll have some Ribena.”

“Don’t you drink?”

“Not often. It makes me . . .” He hesitated between “weird” and “stupid” and eventually chose the latter.

“Not so stupid you don’t know it.” She reached for a glass, and he saw the froth of beer. Stop, he wanted to say. Ms. F. doesn’t deserve to start life with a hangover. But before he could think of a polite way, or indeed any way, to voice his concern she was shouting, “Fuck, fuck.”

He watched in amazement as she grabbed the saucepan and banged it against the stove, once, twice. Carrots flew.

And then he was in the hall. He had seen her wet lips stretched wide, her eyes starting out of her head, not gestures that had appeared on the poster but, combined with the shouting, fairly unequivocal. In the living room he bent to tend the fire, fighting the desire to climb out of the window and never come back. The first flare of the kindling had died down and the coals were glowing dully when he heard her footsteps.

“Sorry. I got a little carried away.”

He could feel her standing behind him. Don’t touch me, he thought. Do.

“I take my cooking seriously,” she said. “Even if it is just tins. What makes you angry?”

You drinking beer, Emmanuel being a wanker, my life. Using the tongs, he moved a knob of coal an inch to the right, an inch to the left.

“If I promise to be quiet, will you come back and keep me company?”

She walked away, not waiting for an answer, and he thought of all the tiny motions—the vertebrae one after another sliding against each other, the hip joints swivelling in their sockets, the tarsals and metatarsals flexing and straightening—that make up departure. Yet the most mysterious motion, the one that couldn’t be named or diagrammed, was what spilled a mood into a room. How he knew, with absolute certainty, that she wasn’t taking his answer for granted, but simply leaving him alone to figure it out.

As he sat back down at the kitchen table, she was peering into the oven. “Is there a reason,” she said, “for upstairs to be plunged in Stygian gloom?”

He told her about the five light bulbs of the day before. “Interesting.” She turned, cheeks flushed from anger or the oven, to face him. “I’m O.K. with appliances, usually. But I can’t wear a watch for more than a day or two before it goes haywire. Apparently, I make my own electricity.”

They ate off a card table in front of the fire in the freshly papered room. She had found candles in the cutlery drawer, and in their light the ladder cast a hangman’s shadow. They talked about computers, and whether a person could ever really disappear, and if life was better in Papua, New Guinea. She told a story about her grandfather, who had fought in the First World War. Then, at last, she spoke about herself, but almost, Zeke noticed, as if she were talking about another person. Well, that was something he understood. He often felt as if the events in his life, the things people claimed he’d said and done, were really part of a stranger’s story. His biology teacher at school had explained that the cells in the body are replaced every seven years. No wonder we don’t always feel like our old selves.

“Once, years ago, I had a friend. She was the opposite of me: tiny, neat, ferociously ironic. We shared an office at my first real job, and three or four nights a week we’d go out for a drink after work. I couldn’t get enough of her company.”

He watched her lips, her eyes, her cheeks, the muscles of her throat and her forehead, and fewer and fewer of her words reached him. But when her story was done, the candles guttering, the fire dying, her face wore an expression that he understood. He took her hand. “You did what you could,” he said, and squeezed her palm against his own. The effort of consolation made him bold.

Her face changed inexplicably, the light in her eyes leaping and fading. Had he done something wrong? Then he understood. With his free hand, he snuffed the flames.

She rose to her feet, the whole magnificent swell of her, pulled him to his feet, and led him up the stairs. “Help me,” she said, presenting the overalls. Soon she was naked, ample and unabashed. Beside her Zeke felt pallid, sticklike. Can this be happening? he thought. Then she was pulling back the covers, and he was lost. Ms. F., fully acknowledged, never mentioned, lay between them.

Hours, days, weeks later she said, “I have to tell you something.” For a moment she was silent, and he pictured, in the darkness, her eyebrows drawing together. “I’m no more Mr. Barrow’s niece than I am a cavalier.” She made a little rasping sound. “Actually, I’ve never laid eyes on either of the Barrows. A friend told me that the house was empty and I needed somewhere to go.”

Even as she spoke, he was counting their contiguous places—thighs, hips, elbows, shoulders, floating ribs, biceps, calves—and wherever they touched he felt the slight tingling of her electricity.

“It’s not fair,” he had told his mother one day after school. “I can’t lie like the other boys.”

“Everyone lies,” she had said. “You’re just a slow learner.”

Now he remembered how her face had changed when he asked whose niece she was.

“I knew that,” he said slowly.

“And don’t you wonder who I am? What I’m doing here? You saw what was in my suitcase, didn’t you?”

He searched high and low, the spiral of his right ear, the knotted place behind the left temple, the hollow where his skull met his spine, the airy lattice inside his forehead, but he couldn’t find a trace of wondering. The Barrows had insurance. Let her take whatever she needed for herself, and for Ms. F. What he did find, regrettable but obdurate, was his old fear of the unfamiliar.

“I have to go home,” he said. “I’m sorry. It’s not you. I just can’t handle strange houses.”

She touched his cheek.

The next morning, Zeke knocked only once before setting aside the fried-egg sandwiches—he’d asked for brown bread in an effort to offset last night’s beer—and sliding the blade of his penknife under the snib of the side window. He left the bag of sandwiches on the kitchen table and climbed the stairs, hoping to find her still in bed, hoping to slip in beside her and bring as many of his current cells as possible into proximity with hers. And this time, he thought, however stupid, however embarrassing, he would ask her name.

The bed was unmade, empty and cold to the touch, the suitcases gone. At the foot of the bed the rug was rolled up and, spread-eagle on the bare wooden boards, lay the overalls, neatly buttoned, arms and legs wide, like an empty person. Only when Zeke tried to pick them up did he discover the three-inch nails that skewered the collar, pinned the cuffs and ankles to the floor.

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New York Attains Fine Particulate Standard

, New York Law Journal

In their Domestic Environmental Law Column, Christine A. Fazio of Carter Ledyard & Milburn and Ethan I. Strell, an associate director and Fellow at the Columbia Center for Climate Change Law, write: Fourteen years after the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency adopted the first health-based standards for fine particulates, which are seen as having more harmful health effects, the EPA has now responded favorably to New York State's 2013 request for redesignation of the metropolitan area from non-attainment to attainment.

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May 21

Is Panic In The Mets’ DNA?

Sometimes, Mets manager Terry Collins sounds like a man who is trying to convince himself of something he’s not sure of, when he said, or vowed, his team would not panic.

As somebody who has been in on hundreds of such press briefings, I know why the topic of panic was raised. Believe me, it’s not because it’s New York and the media is prying. The question would be the same in Pittsburgh or Cleveland or even laid back San Diego. When you lose seven of ten games and nine games in the standings to your main division rival, nerves get frayed, no matter how loudly or vociferously, Collins denies it.

COLLINS: Looks concerned and should be. (AP)

COLLINS: Looks concerned and should be. (AP)

“There’s a lot – a lot – of baseball left,’’ Collins said last night. “There’s no sense of urgency here. We have things we have to continue to try to do. We have to continue to try to watch the workload of some guys. We need to continue to try to get healthy. But there’s no panic here, believe me. Not in the clubhouse. Not anyplace else.”

This is what Collins believes and I don’t doubt he thinks that way. He would be a fool to admit otherwise. That’s why I don’t get why some in my profession would even pose the question. They already know the answer.

I raised the issue yesterday the Mets are at a critical point to their season, and I did so because I’ve seen them fold before. Do you remember September of 2007 when they lost a seven-game lead to the Phillies with 17 games remaining?

Of course you do.

It has been in the Mets’ DNA to go into long, dry spells. That’s where they are now. Who knows what goes on behind closed doors. Reporters ask questions to find out.

The Mets’ primary issue now is a stagnant offense that has scored three or fewer runs in 16 of their past 22 games. Not surprisingly, they are 10-15 since their 11-game winning streak.

GM Sandy Alderson already said not to expect help from the outside, that the plan is to wait for David Wright and Travis d’Arnaud to return from the disabled list. There are other options, such as juggling the lineup, but that smacks of panic unless the move is justifiable, which it would be when Wright and d’Arnaud to come back.

The Mets don’t have a good bench, so benching somebody isn’t a great option. Plus, the guy they always look to sit is Wilmer Flores, who is their best home run hitter. Just who in their minor league system is an answer?

The Mets’ best option, as distasteful as this sounds because that’s been Alderson’s mantra, is to wait this out. Slumps happen in a 162-game schedule and that’s what’s going on with the Mets.

Getting out of a slump takes time, and I don’t know how patient the Mets will be. Unfortunately, neither does Collins.

However, when the story of this season is written, this period will be the watershed moment.

Apr 13

Today In Mets History: NL Baseball Returns To New York

On this date in 1962, National League baseball returned to New York after a four-year absence in a 4-3 loss to Pittsburgh in their home opener in the Polo Grounds.

Surprisingly, only 12,447 showed up for the first National League game in the city since the Dodgers and Giants bolted for California for the start of the 1958 season.

Pitcher Sherman Jones took the loss for the Mets and Frank Thomas homered.

Thomas hit 34 homers with 94 RBI in 1962. He hit 52 homers in three homers for the Mets. Sherman was 0-4 with a 7.71 ERA in eight games for the Mets in 1962, his only season with the team and his last year in the major leagues.

Apr 09

Memo To Harvey: Quit Whining And Just Pitch

Matt Harvey is pitching today, and with this event comes the question: Is he more interested in being a New York media darling or a Mets’ star?

It seems that way..

Like everybody else, I was enamored with the possibility of what Harvey could bring to the Mets and whether he could help them become a viable franchise again.

HARVEY: On his throne. (ESPN)

HARVEY: On his throne. (ESPN)

The operative word is “help,’’ because not one player can do it by himself, which I say because Harvey seems to be separating himself from the “common folk,’’ who are his teammates.

However, he comes off as someone not interested in the collaborative effort – that he knows best – but who rather marches to his own beat. So be it when you have the track record to back it up, but he has only 12 victories in the major leagues.

He is “potential over proven commodity,’’ which makes his threat for people to judge him by his pitching and not his off-the-field life laughable.

That’s hard to do because Harvey throws his off-the-field life into our faces on a regular basis, whether it be posing nude for ESPN; arguing with the front office where to do his rehab; letting himself be photographed in public kissing models or taking them to see the Rangers; or disregarding the perception of being seen at a Yankees game to watch Derek Jeter.

That didn’t go over well with management and some of his teammates, but he doesn’t care. He also doesn’t acknowledge his own recklessness of trying to pitch through obvious pain and not reporting the discomfort in his forearm could have contributed to his elbow injury.

Apparently, making that start in the All-Star Game was more important than anything else.

Take a look at his smirk in the accompanying photograph. Who, but somebody with a huge ego would allow himself to be photographed that way?

No, we don’t see the effort behind-the-scenes of his workouts and conditioning, but we do hear about his off-the-field exploits of wanting to bed as many women as Jeter and his clubbing and drinking.

Good for him. Joe Namath, Walt Frazier and Mickey Mantle were New York media icons, but had the accomplishments to back it up. Harvey has won 12 games.

In the end, the nightlife killed Mantle and destroyed the playing careers of Darryl Strawberry and Dwight Gooden. It is also part of why the Mets didn’t bring back Jose Reyes.

However, Harvey is young and walks with the attitude “it won’t happen to me.’’

But, it can. The questions are “when’’ and “where.’’ Will it be in Queens or the Bronx as a Yankee? Crosstown, it seems, is where he really wants to be.

At least, that’s the perception, not that he wants to be a star with the Mets, who by the way, are his employers who have the right to judge him.

Sure, I’m all for honoring Harvey’s diva-like demand to judge him on his pitching. OK,  then just shut up and pitch and don’t distract us with the other stuff.

Mar 24

Mets Matters: Injury Updates; Gee Solid In Loss

GM Sandy Alderson said he’s optimistic Daniel Murphy could be ready for Opening Day.

Murphy has been down with a pulled right hamstring – an injury that always takes longer to recover than is initially diagnosed – since March 19. At first, it was described as tightness. It was then revised to be a pulled muscle with an estimated down period of one to two weeks.

mets-matters logoAlderson told reporters he based his thinking on, “the results of the MRI, the doctors’ evaluation and just how Daniel himself feels.’’

Murphy is scheduled to resume baseball activities Wednesday.

Meanwhile, shortstop Wilmer Flores resumed light activities today and manager Terry Collins said he might be able to play in an exhibition game Thursday.

Flores fouled a ball off his left foot and sustained a severe bruise. He had been wearing a walking boot but stopped using it.

Also, reliever Vic Black is down with weakness in his throwing shoulder and the probability is he’ll open the season on the disabled list. The Mets are making no pretenses he’ll be ready by Opening Day.

Will any of these guys be ready by Opening Day? Remember, when it comes to Mets’ injuries, always take the over.

GEE SOLID IN LOSS: Dillon Gee continues to impress for the Mets, who still won’t announce when he’ll make his first start of the season.

Gee threw four scoreless innings in Tuesday’s 4-3 loss to the Houston Astros at Tradition Field. The Mets held a late lead, but Carlos Torres gave up two eighth-inning runs. Torres, who is penciled into one of the Mets’ seven bullpen slots, has a 5.87 ERA this spring.

David Wright hit his third homer for the Mets, who are 12-10 this spring.

WHEELER SURGERY TOMORROW: Zack Wheeler will undergo Tommy John surgery Wednesday in New York. Club physician David Altchek will perform the surgery.

Wheeler will miss this season and isn’t expected to pitch again until June of 2016.

UP NEXT: The Mets travel to Tampa Wednesday to face the Yankees. Rafael Montero will get the start. The Mets said Lucas Duda, Travis d’Arnaud and Juan Lagares would make the trip.

Mar 17

Mets Matters: Alderson On Defensive; Pitching Injuries; Beat Marlins

Mets GM Sandy Alderson defended the organization’s handling of Zack Wheeler’s injury. However, as is often the case with Alderson, there were holes in his argument.

“Why would we treat somebody like [Matt] Harvey with the kind of caution that we did and then throw somebody else under the bus – somebody of essentially equal value to us as an organization?’’ Alderson said to reporters today. “That wouldn’t make any sense. I understand people can debate the number of pitches and the number of innings and this and that. We simply wouldn’t treat two guys that differently.’’

mets-matters logoHowever, Harvey was shut down shortly after the All-Star break in 2013 while Wheeler continued to pitch at the end of last season.

Wheeler flew to New York this evening and will be examined tomorrow by Dr. David Altchek.

METS PITCHING INJURIES: For those scoring at home, the following Mets’ pitchers had significant arm injuries during Alderson’s tenure: Harvey, Wheeler, Jacob deGrom, Bobby Parnell, Dillon Gee, Johan Santana, Jenrry Mejia, Jeremy Hefner and Jon Niese.

TODAY’S GAME: DeGrom was again sparkling, giving up one hit in five scoreless innings with six strikeouts in Tuesday’s 6-4 victory over Miami in Port St. Lucie. DeGrom gave up a single to the first batter he faced, and then retired 14 straight hitters. … Kevin Plawecki hit a solo homer and Johnny Monell hit a three-run, pinch-hit homer in the eighth for the game-winner.

EXTRA INNINGS: David Wright left the team to return to Virginia for what the family termed a “family matter.’’ He is scheduled to return to camp Tuesday night. … Reliever Vic Black, who has been sidelined with weakness in his throwing shoulder, resumed throwing Tuesday. He threw on flat ground and might not get on a mound until Friday. … Parnell, who had been penciled in to throw in a minor league game today, has been pushed back several days. Parnell said there were no problems, but didn’t say why his session was delayed. … The Mets have their lone day off of the spring Wednesday.


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Effective Date: December 05, 2014

Nexage is committed to being a responsible participant in the mobile advertising ecosystem and to protecting personal information about Internet, mobile Internet, and mobile application users. This privacy policy explains what information we collect, how we secure it, and how we use it in relation to the service Nexage provides to its customers.

Nexage is an independently-operated subsidiary of Millennial Media.  To learn about Millennial Media’s data collection and use practices for other parts of its business, please visit

Nexage operates a mobile advertising exchange platform (the “Platform”) where we partner with publishers and application developers (referred to collectively as “Publishers”) to sell available advertising inventory on their sites and applications to our advertising buying customers.  Our goal in doing so is to (1) provide Publishers with a mechanism to efficiently sell their advertising inventory while deriving the most value for the Publisher, and (2) enabling our ad-buying partners to reach the audience that meets their advertising campaign goals. In operating our service, Nexage adheres to all laws and industry guidelines in relation to our privacy practices.

Publishers transfer certain information to Nexage that we use to enable the delivery of relevant advertisements to consumers on their mobile phones by our ad-buying customers. When our Publisher’s end-user devices interact with our Platform, it may automatically pass information that our Publishers provide or is otherwise accessible on the advertising request.  Nexage endeavors to receive the assurance from our Publishers that, through clear notice mechanisms, the Publisher has the right to pass such information to the Platform. This Publisher notice should advise the end-user why the information is being collected and that it’s being used for advertising purposes. Nexage regularly works with its partners to provide improved mechanisms to manage consumer notice and control over their advertising experience in the mobile environment.

Non-Personally Identifiable Information.  Publishers and developers may send non-personally identifiable information* (NPII) to Nexage with an ad request in accordance with the Publishers stated privacy practices and notices. Examples of this type of information include, but are not limited to, age, gender, zip code, and location information.

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Nexage may also partner with third parties that have their own methods of identifying a device. These can be used as described above, or in some cases can be used for the purposes of supporting 3rd party targeted advertising solutions. Where these solutions are employed, Nexage will work with our Publishers or otherwise endeavor to provide end-users with the ability to opt-out of these solutions.

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Other Information Available from the Ad Request. Nexage may also collect information that it can see about an end-user’s device and the manner in which it has connected to the Internet (such as mobile carrier, IP Address, phone model, etc.). This information is not necessarily provided by the Publisher, but the information is passed from the device via an application or mobile website to support the delivery of advertising or to otherwise support functionality of the device or application.

Information Collected by Nexage Directly.  Nexage may also collect NPII about how consumers interact with ads delivered, such as anonymously counting clicks. Further, when available, Nexage may partner with third-party companies that enable targeting of advertising based on information that is in addition to what the Publisher may provide or is otherwise available to Nexage. When partnering with these third-party data providers, Nexage does not accept, use or store PII.  These services may have information about end-users past browsing or application use which can be used to enable the delivery of more relevant advertising to the end-user.

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At Nexage, we try to make sure that end-users, Publishers and ad-buyers have access to information that would enable them to understand best practices around advertising and targeted advertising, as well as methods to provide or take advantage of opportunities to opt-out of certain types of advertising. Targeting and Opt-out solutions are limited in mobile advertising compared to online advertising, primarily because the technologies used in online are not as readily available in the mobile ecosystem. Regardless, to ensure that you understand what information we may receive from publishers and developers, Nexage encourages you to review the privacy policies for mobile web sites and applications that you use.  To learn more about targeted advertising and managing your privacy preferences, you can also visit the Network Advertising Initiative’s website.

Nexage may provide copies of log files to Publishers and ad-buying partners and certain relating to the performance of advertising campaigns, and other specific transactions they are a party to on the Platform.  These files contain information that allows partners to analyze the effectiveness and performance of their advertising campaigns.  Our partners also have the ability to use information collected in connection with the use of our Platform for their own purposes, provided such is in compliance with their own privacy practices as communicated to their end-users. The information provided to Publishers or ad-buyer does not contain PII.  Where Nexage provides information to our partners, they are required to use the information they receive in compliance with applicable laws and regulations.

Nexage may share the information it collects with selected partners, vendors, agents or others who work on our behalf, in order to provide products or services for our Publishers or ad-buying customers.  Nexage does not work with, receive or endeavor to compile PII, so information provided to third-parties will never contain PII.

Notwithstanding the other statements in this policy, Nexage may disclose information if required by law or in the good faith belief that such action is necessary to (i) comply with a legal obligation, (ii) protect or defend legal rights or property, or (iii) protect the personal safety of individuals or the public.

Nexage does not knowingly collect, store, or use information about children under the age of 13.  If we become aware of information in our system that relates to a child under 13, we will take commercially reasonable steps to delete that information.

Nexage takes data security seriously.  Anonymous and aggregated information that we may store on our servers is done so in a secure manner with electronic, physical, and administrative safeguards designed to protect against unauthorized access to such information.

Nexage reserves the right to change this privacy policy from time to time, by posting a new policy on  In the event that we must make a material change to our practices or this policy, we will make every effort to update this policy at least 30 days prior to implementing the change.

If you have questions about this policy or the privacy practices applicable to Nexage’s mobile ad services, contact us at

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Personally identifiable information (PII) – When we refer to personally identifiable information (PII), we mean information such as first and last name, email or home address, or phone number that, either by itself or in combination with data reasonably obtainable by Nexage from another source, could be used by Nexage to personally identify an end- user.

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Determination on your own cannot consider you far when you enterprise into alternatives trading, but sufficient know-how can. If you might be a newbie options trader, you'll absolutely experience unfamiliar specialized phrases this sort of as options, shares, bearish approaches, and bullish tactics. As a substitute of enabling these conditions to intimidate you, it would be much better to understand them so that you would not get missing when you are starting up with selections trading. Finding out the ropes of options buying and selling is not as problematic as it looks as long as you are enrolled in an possibilities buying and selling training course that serves as your thorough tutorial to buying and selling. You don't have to make a diploma in economics, commerce, or finance just to be equipped to trade efficiently in the economic marketplace. You only need to acquire significant expertise with the aid of a program in possibilities buying and selling.

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trending »

Kat Dennings Makes Suburbia Cool in Exclusive 'Daydream Nation' Poster

Daydream Nation
Anchor Bay Films

It looks like Kat Dennings is now the official gatekeeper to the summer 2011 movie season. The hot young actress of "Nick and Norah" fame is starring in not one but two movies releasing May 6, the Friday kicking off Hollywood's biggest season, with both a huge studio blockbuster ("Thor") and an indie film poised to be the sleeper hit of the season ("Daydream Nation").

No offense to the God of Thunder, but we're especially psyched for "Daydream Nation," a hip indie being compared to the weirdo (and super-cool) cinema of both David Lynch and "Donnie Darko."

The romantic drama, co-starring Josh Lucas and Andie MacDowell (yes! we've missed you Andie MacDowell!), features Denning as a teenager who's transplanted from the big city to a small town, where she gets involved in a love triangle with her teacher (Lucas) and fellow student (Reece Thompson).

Check out the exclusive poster for "Daydream Nation" below. And get ready for the summer, which can't start soon enough.

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Around the NFL

Michael Vick (concussion) isn't ruled out yet by Eagles

Don't rule out Michael Vick from this week's game against the Washington Redskins just yet. At least not officially.

Jeremiah: Ranking backup QBs
With backup quarterbacks coming to the forefront of late, Daniel Jeremiah ranks playoff contenders' No. 2 signal-callers. More ...

Vick was not at Philadelphia Eagles practice Wednesday as he recovers from his concussion, but coach Andy Reid said he wasn't ruling out the quarterback. Vick's headaches have subsided, which is a positive. Nick Foles will get the starter snaps at practice, which says it all.

Reid indicated earlier in the week that Vick suffered a "significant" concussion, so we'd be stunned if he played. The Eagles' season essentially is over, and it's a perfect time to get a look at what rookie quarterback Nick Foles could do in Reid's system, at least while Reid's system still exists in Philadelphia.

When asked if Vick would play again this season, Reid replied, "Yeah, I think so. I've just got to see. I don't know that," according to and NFL Network's Kimberly Jones.

UPDATE: Eagles wide receiver Jeremy Maclin told Jeff McLane of the Philadelphia Inquirer that he spoke to Vick on Tuesday, though the two players didn't discuss when the quarterback would be back. "He wasn't in la-la land," Maclin said of Vick.

Follow Gregg Rosenthal on Twitter @greggrosenthal.

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Drew Brees Saints

If a man in a New Orleans Saints shirt ever passed a man wearing a Phoenix Suns hat on a street somewhere, you can be the two would briefly lock eyes and exchange looks of empathy. For, the man in the Suns hat knows what the man in the Saints shirt is going through. The Suns fan has spent the better part of the last five years rooting for a juggernaut offense to carry his favorite team to a title. Sadly, the old saying Defense Wins Championships isn’t just a way to coax focus in young athletes during the boring drills at practice––it actually has merit. So, for the Suns fan, each postseason has proven to be nothing more [...] Continue reading → | , , , , ,
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. Author(s): Don Bliss. Published on March 4, 2014.

STATE LEGISLATIVE SESSIONS ARE BACK in full swing, and with that comes a disturbing challenge to the code adoption process in a number of states. In a repeat of last year, some legislatures are considering bills that would limit code adoption and revision cycles to a minimum of every six years.
Proponents of the six-year code adoption cycle argue that the existing code year cycles, which are often timed to coincide with the three-year code development cycles of NFPA and the International Code Council, create unnecessary costs for homebuilders and consumers. They try to make the argument that a six-year code cycle will reduce the cost of code update training for inspectors, design professionals, and facility operators.

NFPA’s code revision cycles may be three, four, or five years, depending on the particular standard. NFPA technical committees ensure that codes incorporate advances in safety, technology, and engineering design. Using this model, new scientific research findings can be incorporated into the standards, and code requirements are often modified to provide alternative approaches for compliance.

Consider the National Electrical Code® (NEC®), one of the standards that is on a three-year code revision cycle. As electrical product and delivery technology evolves, so too do the challenges of safely integrating the technology into electrical systems. “Skipping” an edition of the NEC will, in many cases, preclude the opportunity to take advantage of a host of important changes.

As just one example, the 2014 NEC expands the requirements for low-voltage suspended-ceiling power distribution systems, which are increasingly found in office, mercantile, and institutional occupancies. These systems can be supplied by an alternative energy source, such as photovoltaic or wind-power, to distribute low-voltage power into a suspended-ceiling grid network. As the safe use of these systems for lighting has been proven, designers have sought to add new features. The new article in the 2014 NEC expands the use of low-voltage power distribution systems for non-lighting applications, such as audio-video equipment, HVAC actuators, air/temperature sensing devices, information technology equipment, and other uses.

Failing to adopt the current code can also create risks for first responders as they deal with the risks posed by new technology. Photovoltaic (PV) electrical systems are an important alternative energy source, but they can pose life-threatening shock hazards to first responders. The 2014 edition of the NEC includes a new requirement that addresses the rapid shutdown of PV systems installed in or on buildings, enabling first responders to quickly lower the voltage on PV system conductors. This is a prime example of how the NEC addresses safety concerns without interfering with the use of new technology.

NFPA remains committed to providing training for authorities having jurisdiction when new editions of major codes are published, such as NFPA 1, Fire Code, the NEC, or NFPA 101®, Life Safety Code®. Free NEC training was provided last December to more than 1,400 code officials in California following the state’s adoption of the 2011 NEC.

In those states that are considering six-year code cycle legislation, NFPA regional operations staff stands ready to partner with fire and safety stakeholders in support of the timely adoptions of the latest, most up-to-date codes and standards. To reach your NFPA regional office, visit nfpa.org/about-nfpa/offices/regional-offices.

Don bliss is vice-president of NFPA Field Operations.


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Classic Head $5 (1834-1838)
< 1835 $5 PF
Go to the Coin Explorer Details page

Classic Head $5
1836 $5 PF Coin Auctions

View coin auction sales stats below and compare the auction volume of the 1836 $5 PF over time by selecting a year range in the chart on the right. Scroll down to see upcoming coin auctions from popular auction houses, such as Heritage, GreatCollections and others.

Auction Stats

Category: Classic Head $5 (1834-1838)
Average Grade (1 Year): (No Data)
Average Grade (All Years): PF 67
Average Price (1 Year): (No Data)
Average Price (All Years): $359,775.00
Volume (1 Year): (No Data)
Volume (All Years): 2

Auction Volume

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Seated Liberty Half Dollars (1839-1891)
< 1888 50C PF  |  1890 50C PF >
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Seated Liberty Half Dollars
1889 50C PF Coin Auctions

View coin auction sales stats below and compare the auction volume of the 1889 50C PF over time by selecting a year range in the chart on the right. Scroll down to see upcoming coin auctions from popular auction houses, such as Stack's Bowers, GreatCollections and others.

Auction Stats

Category: Seated Liberty Half Dollars (1839-1891)
Average Grade (1 Year): PF 65
Average Grade (All Years): PF 64
Average Price (1 Year): $4,360.56
Average Price (All Years): $3,010.21
Volume (1 Year): 9
Volume (All Years): 121

Auction Volume

The chart showing Aug-2014 series, Sep-2014 series, Oct-2014 series, Nov-2014 series, Dec-2014 series, Jan-2015 series, Feb-2015 series, Mar-2015 series, Apr-2015 series, May-2015 series, Jun-2015 series, Jul-2015 series.
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Red Wings
Blue Jackets

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Game Recap

Red Wings snap Jackets' win streak with 2-1 victory

Wednesday, 08.06.2014 / 4:50 AM

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Red Wings snap Jackets' win streak with 2-1 victory
Detroit Red Wings 2, Columbus Blue Jackets 1

Columbus trotted out its new third jerseys -- naturally, they're blue -- but the Red Wings spoiled the night for the sellout crowd of 18,391 that packed Nationwide Arena as Jimmy Howard stopped 34 shots, including Jared Boll's penalty shot, in a 2-1 victory on Friday night.

Less than two minutes after Johan Franzen opened the scoring by finishing off a 3-on-1 break at 7:04 of the second period, Boll was awarded a penalty shot -- but Howard took the wrister in his pads to preserve the 1-0 lead.

"I came down and saw the glove side was open. But I didn't put it exactly were I wanted it and he made the save," Boll said.

Howard said he figured Boll, a fourth-line forward, would shoot rather than deke.

"He lowered his head and was looking blocker," Howard said. "The ice at that point, halfway through the second period, wasn't all that great. I had to figure he was going to come in and shoot."

Valtteri Filppula made it 2-0 with a power-play goal at 8:06 of the third to give Detroit a two-goal cushion. Just 59 seconds later, the Blue Jackets' R.J. Umberger stole the puck from Henrik Zetterberg behind the Red Wings' goal, then threaded a centering pass to Boll. Howard made the initial stop but the rebound came to Antoine Vermette, who shoveled home a backhand for his fifth of the season. The assist for Umberger extended his franchise-best assists streak to eight games.

However, Howard was perfect the rest of the way as he improved to 6-0-1 lifetime against Columbus, which entered the game with a League-high 14 victories, including five in a row -- one short of the franchise record. The Blue Jackets' Jakub Voracek missed a chance to tie it in the waning moments when Brad Stuart barely beat him to a loose puck in the crease with Howard out of position for one of the few times in the game.

Steve Mason made 30 saves for the Jackets, who travel to Detroit on Sunday for a rematch.

"It was a great battle between the goalies and between the teams," Howard said. "There were a lot of chances at both ends."

The Wings killed off all five Columbus power plays while scoring on one of their three tries. Both coaches said Howard and the Wings' PK made the difference.

"Obviously your best penalty-killer is your goaltender, but I thought our guys battled hard," Wings coach Mike Babcock said. "As the game went on I thought our penalty kill got stronger and stronger and we didn't have to rely on Howard quite as much."

Jackets coach Scott Arniel said his team's inability to score on the power play -- a problem for much of the season -- hurt them badly against the Wings.

"Both goaltenders were outstanding. We had some great looks and Howard either got across or made a big save," he said. "(Detroit) scored the game-winner on a power play and we didn't score on our (power play). It's been a work in progress all year, and we certainly would have liked to have been rewarded on it. We got some real good chances against a really good penalty-killing team."

The opening period was scoreless, but not for a lack of chances. Columbus outshot Detroit 13-12, but both teams had opportunities that were denied by the goaltenders.

"We had great looks early in the game and if we could have buried one, maybe it would get them back on their heels a little bit," Arniel said.

Material from team media and wire services was used in this report

scoring summary
1st Period
2nd Period
Johan Franzen (10) ASST: Todd Bertuzzi (13), Valtteri Filppula (6)
1 - 0 DET
3rd Period
PPG - Valtteri Filppula (5) ASST: Brad Stuart (8), Jiri Hudler (5)
2 - 0 DET
Antoine Vermette (5) ASST: Jared Boll (3), R.J. Umberger (9)
2 - 1 DET
Power Play Stats
Power Plays1/30/5
Power Play %23.8%21.7%
% on Road20.7%21.5%
% at Home26.6%22.0%
League Rank2nd5th
penalty summary
1st Period
Ruslan Salei  Slashing against  Nikita Filatov
Todd Bertuzzi  Tripping against  R.J. Umberger
Jiri Hudler  Too many men/ice - bench
2nd Period
Valtteri Filppula  Hooking against  Jakub Voracek
Henrik Zetterberg  Tripping against  Fedor Tyutin
Mike Commodore  Hooking against  Justin Abdelkader
3rd Period
Fedor Tyutin  Cross checking against  Henrik Zetterberg
Mike Commodore  Holding against  Todd Bertuzzi
goalie stats
Jimmy Howard
SA: 35TOI: 60:00
Saves: 34EV: 27 - 28
PIM: 0PP: 7 - 7
SV%: .971SH: 0 - 0
Steve Mason
SA: 32TOI: 59:12
Saves: 30EV: 23 - 24
PIM: 0PP: 6 - 7
SV%: .938SH: 1 - 1
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Cousins with three points as the Greyhounds down the Spirit

Saturday, 12.08.2012 / 11:04 PM The Canadian Press

SAGINAW, Mich. - Nick Cousins scored once and set up two more as the Sault Ste. Marie Greyhounds downed the host Saginaw Spirit 6-4 on Saturday in Ontario Hockey League play.

David Broll had two goals for the Greyhounds (14-15-2), who won for the first time in three outings, and Ryan Sproul chipped in with three assists.

Colin Miller, Dylan Staples and Nick Halagian each scored once to round out Sault Ste. Marie's offence.

Eric Locke scored twice for the Spirit (13-16-4) while Garret Ross and Vincent Trocheck had a goal apiece.

Justin Nichols made 36 saves for the victory as Nikita Serebryakov turned aside 23-of-28 shots in a losing cause.

Sault Ste. Marie went 2 for 4 on the power play while Saginaw scored once on seven chances with the man advantage.

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text:
2015 NHL Draft

2012-2013 Standings

League Standings
DIV GP W L OT P ROW GF GA Diff Home Away S/O L10 Streak
CEN48367577149102+4718-3-318-4-2-7-2-1Lost 1
ATL483612072162119+4318-6-018-6-0-8-2-0Won 1
PAC483012666134118+1616-7-114-5-5-5-4-1Lost 1
NE482914563146126+2014-7-315-7-2-4-6-0Won 2
NE482814662127109+1816-5-312-9-3-3-5-2Lost 1
 St. Louis
CEN482917260124115+915-8-114-9-1-7-3-0Won 3
 Los Angeles
PAC482716559131118+1319-4-18-12-4-5-3-2Won 1
NW482615759122121+115-6-311-9-4-5-4-1Lost 2
NE482617557145133+1213-9-213-8-3-5-4-1Lost 1
SE482718357146130+1615-8-112-10-2-8-1-1Won 1
 San Jose
PAC482516757116116E17-2-58-14-2-5-5-0Lost 2
 NY Rangers
ATL482618456126112+1416-6-210-12-2-7-3-0Won 2
CEN482416856122115+713-7-411-9-4-5-2-3Won 4
NE482517656112104+815-6-310-11-3-6-4-0Won 1
NW482619355118127-914-8-212-11-1-4-5-1Won 1
 NY Islanders
ATL482417755135139-410-11-314-6-4-6-1-3OT 1
CEN482417755115119-414-5-510-12-2-8-2-0Won 3
SE482421351126144-1813-10-111-11-2-6-3-1Lost 2
PAC482118951121131-1014-8-27-10-7-4-3-3Won 1
ATL482322349132141-915-7-28-15-1-6-4-0Won 4
PAC482222448128142-1411-11-211-11-2-4-5-1Lost 3
 New Jersey
ATL4819191048110129-1913-9-26-10-8-4-5-1Lost 1
NE482121648118143-2511-10-310-11-3-6-4-0Won 2
NW481922745123134-119-11-410-11-3-3-7-0Won 2
NW481925442128160-3213-9-26-16-2-5-5-0Lost 3
SE481925442127160-339-14-110-11-3-3-5-2Lost 1
CEN481623941109139-3011-9-45-14-5-1-8-1Lost 2
 Tampa Bay
SE481826440147150-312-10-26-16-2-2-6-2Lost 2
NW481625739114152-3812-9-34-16-4-4-4-2Lost 1
SE481527636109171-628-11-57-16-1-3-7-0Won 1
No Games Scheduled For This Date
Playoff Format
16 teams will qualify for the Stanley Cup Playoffs. The format is a set bracket that is largely division-based with wild cards.

The top three teams in each division will make up the first 12 teams in the playoffs. The remaining four spots will be filled by the next two highest-placed finishers in each conference, based on regular-season record and regardless of division. It is possible for one division in each conference to send five teams to the postseason while the other sends just three.

In the First Round, the division winner with the best record in each conference will be matched against the wild-card team with the lesser record; the wild card team with the better record will play the other division winner.

The teams finishing second and third in each division will meet in the First Round within the bracket headed by their respective division winners. First-round winners within each bracket play one another in the Second Round to determine the four participants in the Conference Finals.

Home-ice advantage through the first two rounds goes to the team that placed higher in the regular-season standings. In the Conference Finals and Stanley Cup Final, home-ice advantage goes to the team that had the better regular-season record -- regardless of the teams' final standing in their respective divisions.
X - Clinched Playoff spot
Y - Clinched Division
Z - Clinched Conference
P - Clinched Presidents' Trophy
GP - Games Played
W - Wins (worth two points)
L - Losses (worth zero points)
OT - OT/Shootout losses (worth one point)
PTS - Points
ROW - Total number of Regulation plus Overtime Wins (used in 2nd tiebreaker at right)
GF - Goals For
GA - Goals Against
DIFF - Goal Differential
HOME - Home record
AWAY - Away record
S/O - Record in games decided by Shootout
L10 - Record in last ten games
STREAK - Number of consecutive wins, regulation losses, or OT/SO losses.
Tie-Breaking procedure
If two or more clubs are tied in points during the regular season, the standing of the clubs is determined in the following order:

  • The fewer number of games played (i.e., superior points percentage).
  • The greater number of games won, excluding games won in the Shootout. This figure is reflected in the ROW column.
  • The greater number of points earned in games between the tied clubs. If two clubs are tied, and have not played an equal number of home games against each other, points earned in the first game played in the city that had the extra game shall not be included. If more than two clubs are tied, the higher percentage of available points earned in games among those clubs, and not including any "odd" games, shall be used to determine the standing.
  • The greater differential between goals for and against for the entire regular season. NOTE: In standings a victory in a shootout counts as one goal for, while a shootout loss counts as one goal against.
Quote of the Day

I have been blessed to play for 16 years in the NHL; it has been an amazing ride. I would like to thank the Tampa Bay Lightning and New York Rangers organizations and owners for providing me the opportunity to play the sport I love for so many years. I could have never played for so long or accomplished all that I have without the unwavering love and support from my wife, Heather, our three sons, Ryan, Lucas, and Mason, and my parents.

— Martin St. Louis after announcing his retirement from the NHL on Thursday


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1219 Views 4 Replies Last post: Feb 7, 2013 8:43 PM by Bill Grange RSS
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Feb 4, 2013 10:30 AM

Identify mollusc fossil from Tamworth?

I had this fossil brought to me recently.

It was found on the surface at the Middleton Lakes nature reserve, south of Tamworth, Staffs, a former aggregate quarry. It appears to be a mollusc shell, having a mother-of-pearl lustre over its surface,  It could be out of situ and not from the underlying strata, which isn't very helpful, I know.

I would be grateful for even a general identification. It has me baffled.

Bill Grange

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413 Views 3 Replies Last post: Oct 21, 2013 5:01 PM by MWJB RSS
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Oct 21, 2013 1:01 PM

Any idea what this fella is? Has been living in my out house for about 4 months now.??

  • Currently Being Moderated
    Oct 21, 2013 3:05 PM (in response to Ali3867)
    Re: Spider

    Hi Ali3867,

    She is a false widow, Steatoda nobilis.

    They tend to stick to their webs, so are unlikely to be a problem in outbuildings, as long as you are aware that they are there. As winter comes, she will probably hide away until the Spring.

    Regards, Mark.

    • Report Abuse
      • Currently Being Moderated
        Oct 21, 2013 5:01 PM (in response to Ali3867)
        Re: Spider

        I cannot obviously guarantee that she will never venture indoors, heavy rain, predators...something destroying her web could see her displaced & on the move. However, if she has a little nook, or cranny to hide away in, this is where she is likely to bolt to in the first instance. She is not likely to want to come into an area where people & dogs are trampling past all the time...& even when S nobilis do make homes in porches & doorways, they tend to be up off the ground & out of the way.

        I have a couple that live inside my front room window, they never venture into the room proper. I don't like them in the bedroom...not keen in the bathroom either, but if they have an obvious web in other parts of the house, you at least know where they are and can avoid them.

        We have one over the front entrance to my flats, she is about 8" from the doorway & never ventures in, neither did the previous spider that lived's the thing - if you do remove her, eventually another may take her place. If you try to remove her & fail to catch her, who knows where she'll end up?

        Males can wander about more and are sometimes found indoors, but they will be less common over the cold months, as they die off...your female can't really be held responsible for them though.

        All things considered, they are pretty docile and don't go around looking for people to bite...she's really no more dangerous than a bee that can't fly & likes to live in one spot? In fact, bees are actually more dangerous....

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Team Umizoomi Geo's Shape Belt

Team Umizoomi Geo's Shape Belt

Kids will love to play "super shapes" just like Geo!

Weekdays at 10AM and 12PM on NICKWeekdays at 10AM and 12PM on NICK

Team Umizoomi Geo's Shape Belt

Craft Features

Lots for Kids to Do
This craft has plenty of steps kids can do, like tracing, coloring, decorating, and cutting with safety scissors.

Developmental Skills

Count with Us
Count with us skills include: numbers, counting, measurement, math terms (more than, less than, circle) and math concepts (comparisons, shapes, patterns).
Ages: 2-5

  • Measuring tape
  • Orange felt yardage
  • Scissors
  • Yellow and green felt sheets
  • Fabric glue (OPTIONAL)
  • Hook-and-loop fasteners with sticky back (such as Velcro)

  1. Step 1

    Measure your kid's waist, add 3 to 4 inches to that number, and cut out from the orange felt yardage a matching strip of equal length. Set aside the belt base.

  2. Step 2

    From yellow and green felt sheets, cut out various shapes at around the same size, not exceeding the belt's height. Suggested shapes: triangle, square, circle, pentagon, hexagon, oval, rectangle, diamond, trapezoid, or octagon.

  3. Step 3

    Evenly distribute the shapes along the belt and glue them down with fabric glue. Leave 3 to 4 inches blank at the end of the belt for the overlapping part.

  4. Step 4 (For Interactive Play)

    To make the belt an interactive math tool, instead of gluing down the shapes, apply a piece of self-adhesive "hook" fastener (Velcro) to the back of each shape. Press the shapes down onto the belt (no "loop" fastener is needed). "Hooks" at the back of the shapes will allow your child to freely arrange the shapes and create/repeat any pattern on the belt.

  5. Step 5

    At the top of the belt, place a piece of "hook" on the inside.

  6. Step 6

    Put the belt on your preschooler and let the math journey begin!

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      Racers get ready to take off with this simple spin-to-win printable board game!

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      Shower your little flower with quality crafting time!

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      Give your sweet a bag full of Umiriffic treats!

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      Make a do-together craft kids can proudly display on their door

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      Turn paper bags into your favorite math-loving team!

    13. Milli Christmas Ornament

      This print-and-fold craft is an umirrific way to make your tree look spectacular!

    14. Bot Christmas Ornament

      Extend-o the holiday cheer with this special craft for UmiFriends

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      Create a SUPER shaped ornament to hang on your tree this year

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      Make VROOM, VROOM on your tree this year for UmiCar!

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      Make matching tees and a card to show Dad he's umirrific!

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      Spring into action to create a high-flying hanging craft

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      Build your child's not-so-bad bandit, with our simple cut & fold printables!

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      Geo used his SUPER SHAPES to create this pirate, now UmiFriends can too!

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      Kids can take on Zilch's challenges, collect keys and rescue the King of Numbers!

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      These easy-to-assemble 3-D paper characters will be ready for action in no time!

    27. Team Umizoomi Numberland Castle

      Shape a shoe box into a stage for your child's very own action-packed Umi adventure!

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      Transform a recycled tissue roll & cereal box into a cool craft for kids

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      Make a dainty box to fill with sweet surprises

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        Wag your tail and shake a leg with this dancing game all the pups will love!

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        Transform a cereal box into a soccer field!

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        Make this simple paper puppet and play soccer with Dora!

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        Dive into crafting by creating a paper toy for your PAW Patrol fan!

      16. Skye Paper Vehicle Toy

        Kids can help Skye fly high when you create this paper toy craft!

      17. Umi Grand Prix Board Game

        Racers get ready to take off with this simple spin-to-win printable board game!

      18. Chase Paper Vehicle Toy

        Here's a do it yourself toy for your cop car lovin' PAW Patrol fan!

      19. Marshall Paper Vehicle Toy

        Here's a do-it-yourself toy for your fire-truck lovin' PAW Patrol fan!

      20. Rocky Paper Vehicle Toy

        Print to turn paper into your kids' favorite recycling pup!

      21. Nick Jr. Guess Who Game

        Make a new memory game in minutes with our easy printable templates

      22. Crumbs Board Game

        Take a trip around Lalaloopsy land, meeting with friends for Crumbs tea party!

      23. Dora's Perrito Puppet

        Make this simple paper puppet and play fetch with Dora's little puppy!

      24. Peter Rabbit No-Sew Pillow

        Make a snugly new friend for your Peter fan

      25. Dora Rocks Board Game

        Help Dora and her friends find their way to the party at Benny's barn!

      26. Peter Rabbit Candy Cane Sled

        Peter & pals are dashing through the snow-- carrying something sweet, you should know!

      27. Bubble Guppies Paper Dreidels

        Everyone wins when you make your own spinning tops!

      28. Dora's Royal Rescue Board Game

        Make it family game night & go on a knightly mission to Story Castle!

      29. Umizoomi Great Shape Race Board

        It's a race to the finish! Take the Team on a ride to the top of Shape Mountain

      30. Team Umizoomi Dump Truck Craft

        Get kids' engines going with this cool Dump Truck toy made from an egg carton!


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Playa Nicuesa Rainforest Lodge » costa rica destinations Costa Rica Rainforest Lodge in Piedras Blancas National Park, Golfo Dulce Costa rica Sat, 27 Jun 2015 14:39:06 +0000 en hourly 1 Costa Rica’s Rich Biodiversity Reveals 5,000 New Species Mon, 07 Oct 2013 19:32:32 +0000 Marconey It is amazing, that in this day and age, scientists are still discovering completely new species of plants and animals in the world. You would think that everything had already been discovered.
In Costa Rica, for instance, recent reports reveal that 5,000 new species of animals and plants have been discovered and classified between 2011 and 2013. The finding is part of the country’s National Biodiversity Strategy (ENB in Spanish) for 2014-2020, which follows the United Nations Environment Program’s (UNEP) Strategic Plan for Biodiversity. Most of the new 5,000 species found are insects. The others include a few orchids, mushrooms, mollusks, fish, reptiles and birds. Red_eyed_tree_frog_edit2 costa-rica-monkeys Eyelash-palm-pit-viper-Nicuesa-Rainforest-Lodge-300x210 Insect-Tinkerbella-Nana-fairyfly-is-new-species-in-Costa-Rica Insect-Sparganocosma-docsturnerorum-photo-by-Sciency-Thoughts Insect-flower-fly-reveals-24-new-species-in-Central-and-South-America

In the world so far, scientists say they have identified between 1.5 and 1.8 million animal and plant species, about half of which are insects. Beetles are the largest group with 300,000 species. In comparison, there are only 4,500 species of mammals recognized on the planet. Costa Rica, although a tiny country occupying only 0.03% of the planet’s landmass, hosts more than 500,000 plant and animal species. Keeping with the world trend, Costa Rica has about 300,000 kinds of insects. (Anyone who has ever walked into a Costa Rican rainforest without bug repellent knows this!)
Scientists estimate there are probably roughly 8.7 million species existing on Earth, according to a 2011 study in the journal PLoS Biology, published by the Public Library of Science. The crucial point is that approximately 83% of those plant and animal species have yet to be discovered. Scientists calculate that there are probably 6.5 million species living on land, and 2.2 million in the ocean, but that 86% of land-inhabitants and 91% of ocean-dwellers are still roaming at large undiscovered, described or cataloged, reports the study.

At Playa Nicuesa Rainforest Lodge, you can see an abundance of plant and animal life. Located
on the Golfo Dulce next to the Piedras Blancas National Park, the award-winning eco-lodge features several unique ecosystems – primary and secondary rainforest, ocean and mangrove forest. Playa Nicuesa Rainforest Lodge offers nature and adventure tours, yoga classes and retreats, family vacations, and honeymoon trips.

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