#fingerbowl

[timelesstreasuresbym]

This exquisite vintage Westmoreland ruby red heart shaped nappy dish finger bowl is now available in my Etsy shop. Its the Waterford pattern & it’s gorgeous & in perfect condition. Etsy shop link in my profile. • • • #timelesstreasuresbym #etsy #shopsmall #wedding #xmasdecor #westmorelandglass #retroglasses #nappydish #fingerbowl #candydish #shopsmallbusiness #etsyshop #xmas #sweetchalkinwoman #etsyseller #homedecor #vintageshop #etsy365 #weddinggift #etsysellersofinstagram #glassware #handmade #retro #mcm #vintage #vintagestyle #vintagefinds https://www.instagram.com/p/Ck7B-b0OFwR/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[johnny1note]

People clown on fingerbowls so much when the actual most perplexing dining etiquette practice of the same era is that they only used bread plates at lunches and informal suppers, at a formal dinner you would put your bread (and sometimes your salt) directly on the tablecloth and then a servant would clean the crumbs before dessert

[luxe-pauvre]

Thus far, liberalism has shown a remarkable resilience, retaining control of all major center-left parties, even as increasing portions of the population lose faith in or even turn against the castle. At mid-century, the blue-collar lower-middle class, strengthened by unions and postwar social democracy, constituted an electoral ally to liberal reformers, whereas today it has ceased to exist, collapsing since the 1970s into poverty and precarity. Meanwhile, the children of the upper-middle class, including holders of advanced degrees, struggle to replicate even a semblance of the older generation’s lifestyle. Many of them, disillusioned with the liberal center, shift into a leftist or social-democratic mode, attaining patronage not from traditional bureaucratic posts but from a web of do-gooder progressive foundations and the army of “organizers” that they deputize. In such an unstable situation, factions, fractures, and jealousy are common, as various natives of the middle class vie to represent a working class with whom they have little in common. In short, the foundations of the fairy castle are eroding, but even as it threatens to crumble, it is unclear whether those who leave it can secure any alternative political base. The Hanover monarchs, for a century and a half, banned water bowls from the royal table, so that when toasts were made to the king, secret supporters of the Stuarts, the rival claimants to the British throne, could have no way to surreptitiously signal their support for the “king over the water.” Only in 1905 did the palace allow the fingerbowls to reappear. Similarly, today, the fairy castle strives to banish any sign of its decline and to deny the possibility of an alternative. If it is to survive, or if a better-adapted mode of politics is to challenge it, the contradictions embedded in Victorian liberalism must be uncovered and confronted. The logic of status and smarts as substitutes for moral worth must be abandoned, and the courtier mentality, so unseemly in a democracy, overcome. Perhaps the fairy castle will collapse under the weight of the tensions within; perhaps it will be demolished from without. Either way, those who hope for a future of freedom and human flour­ishing must be ready to embrace entirely different measures of suc­cess, and an ethic of humility such as few have practiced in the modern age.

Samuel Biagetti, Into the Fairy Castle: The Persistence of Victorian Liberalism

[fierypen37]

Victory is in Your Veins: Chapter 15

moodboard by @libradoodle1​

Chapter 15

 Day Three: Daenerys

 Astapor was naught but a smoldering heap. Daenerys petted Drogon’s frilled head, caught somewhere between terror and elation. She had deliberately thrown stones at a hornet’s nest, and would inevitably be stung. The slave trade encompassed not only Slaver’s Bay, but the wider continent. Drogon sensed her disquiet, and nuzzled her arm. All was forgiven regarding the chain, it seemed. Her eye fell to the map on the table, and the painted stone bearing her House’s sigil. She traced the frilled coastline to the next logical step. Yunkai. She must crush these hornets beneath her heel. And the yellow city was the next nest to topple.

Ser Jorah paced in the narrow confines of her tent, his plate armor spattered with blood. He noisily chewed on a loin of pork. Aggo took his ease as well, fresh from battlefield. Ser Barristan, Rakharo, and Kovarro were bringing the Unsullied and Dothraki cohorts to heel. All told, the coup was a stunning victory with not a single Unsullied or Dothraki life lost. The count of slave masters slain and slaves freed was still being tallied, but the number was in the thousands. Astapor’s red bricks were painted with a fresh coat this day. Missandei flitted like a golden butterfly in her white linen, offering fingerbowls of water and freshening watered wine goblets.

 “In a single stroke, you’ve made thrice the enemies you had yesterday, khaleesi,” Ser Jorah grumbled. Drogon flew to his post and Daenerys turned to face him square.

“Well put, ser,” she said, not bothering to quench the choler in her tone. No slouch at reading her tones, Ser Jorah swallowed hard.

“I only wish you had trusted us with your plans,” he said, gulping wine from his cup. Sweat streamed down his face. The evening heat was punishing. Even the light weave of her sandsilk tunic clung to her.

“Will you take refreshment, Your Grace?” Missandei asked, unobtrusively offering a goblet. A relic of a master’s, it was fashioned of bronze with a scorpion-like harpy carved around the rim.

“Yes, watered wine, please. A horn cup will do,” Daenerys said, with a gentle squeeze on her forearm. I’ll not drink from the harpy’s bosom.

“I would have included you had I known myself what I was to do. It was not until the whip was in my hand that the path became clear to me,” she said mildly. Daenerys was feeling the effect of such a tumultuous day followed by a poor night of sleep—weariness made her marrow ache; her wits were slow.

“And what of Westeros, khaleesi? You waylay your plans to see strangers unchained?”

Daenerys clenched her jaw so hard her teeth hurt. Though she had forgiven him for his past, the words still stung. Slaver. The whisper rose from somewhere deep within.

“Yes, Ser Jorah,” she said with soft-spoken vehemence. Freedom was a gods-given right of any man who breathed. The world she would forge must be made from the chains of the old.

“Children should not be born in bondage. Women should not suffer rape at the hands of their masters. Men must not be brutalized for entertainment.” To her it was simple. To her, the answer was plain as the sun in the sky. Slavery must end. I will not be swayed in this.

Ser Jorah loomed, stinking of old blood and rancid sweat. What had he said to her? There’s a beast in every man, and it stirs any time you put a sword in his hand. Those deep-set blue eyes were earnest, though. And as always, it snagged her heart.

“And if you die on this errand, gods forbid? The last Targaryen of Valyria, slain to save trained monkeys and dung shovelers?” he said, taking her hand between both his warm scarred palms. Daenerys held his gaze, groping for the words to make him understand. She chose practicality.

“What you have me do? The river cannot flow backwards. I’ve already sacked a slave city. There is no path but forward.”

“There’s always a way. Make peace with them. Ride west. Shake the dust of the continent from your feet.” Daenerys stepped back, dropping her hand.

“Eight thousand Unsullied is not enough to retake Westeros.” Why was she indulging him? She could not turn her back on these people. A headache began to pound behind her eyes. A long, trying day after a long sleepless night had worn down her patience. Ser Jorah pressed on.

“There are a thousand sellsword companies in Pentos or Myr. We have the gold to hire them.”

Daenerys took a long draught from her cup. The cool liquid slid down her throat, soothing. Though his advice was sound, Daenerys would not be swayed. Onward. Onward to freedom and home.

“Even if I considered abandoning this course, it would not last. It was you who taught me to guard my back. I cannot leave harpies to nip at our heels. We must take Yunkai, and Meereen after it. This is my decision, ser. Will you follow me?”

Appealing to his loyalty always had the intended effect, even if sometimes begrudgingly. Ser Jorah bowed before her. His blue eyes watched her as if she hung the moon.

“I will follow you to the ends of the earth,” he vowed. Despite her irritation, his devotion touched her—also as always. She combed a sweaty tendril of his thinning grey-blond hair from his eyes.

“Seek your bed, Ser Jorah. We march at dawn,” she said. The scowl seemed permanently etched into Ser Jorah’s face, but he rose and excused himself.

As the tent flap swayed shut behind him, Aggo grunted.

“Jorah the Andal buzzes like a fly. Battle and blood are good,” Aggo grumbled in Dothraki, sinew crunching in his teeth. Grease shone on his mustache and beard. Daenerys found a dry chuckle.

“He means well.”

A shadow moved. Aggo lurched to his feet and loosed his whip in one smooth motion.

“Your Grace?” the sound of his deep, accented voice made gooseflesh stipple her skin. Jon Snow. Her breath caught. Jon moved through the tent’s partition to stand before her.

“Peace, Aggo,” Daenerys said in Dothraki with a staying gesture. He had tasted battle today. Whole, uninjured save for a scabbed cut on his shoulder, she noted with relief, but dried blood coated both arms to the elbow. Crusts adorned his chest in ragged ripples and splashes. She could smell the faint metallic tang of dried blood in the air. It shouldn’t have thrilled her, but the sight of it displayed his strength, his savagery. He wore a pair of over-large green sandsilk trousers and leather sandals that laced to the knee.

In his hands was a sword. Even sheathed, she knew it to be a peerless weapon, a white wolf at its pommel. Isn’t that what the slave masters had called him? White Wolf? Jon glanced at Missandei and fugitive warmth filled his eyes as he murmured a greeting. Missandei returned it with the ghost of a smile. Daenerys’ heart beat in a hard, swift rhythm. He had returned, but perhaps not for her. He and Missandei had a shared history.

Jon Snow’s dark gaze was steady, unwavering. She waited for him to break the silence.

“I brought a gift,” Jon said at last. He ducked out of the tent and hauled in a bulging sack. Upending it, a cascade of leather and bronze fell in a heap. Whips and collars. Master’s whips, some bearing the bloodstains of their former owners. Collars in leather, brass, tin, gold. He’d gathered them as a man would gather flowers for a sweetheart.

“In Volantis, the slaves say we must pave your way with blood and the whips of masters. It turns out they were right,” Jon said. Daenerys glanced at Missandei.

“The slaves are . . . expecting me? How--”

“This one has heard of slaves whispering about dragons, and the kind woman who is their mother. A woman who frees those her Dothraki husband takes, who battles warlocks. It is not so unbelievable then, to assume she would free slaves,” Missandei said with an admiring smile. Daenerys swallowed hard. Men and women in bondage already pinned their hopes to her. Hope for the future. It was a heavy burden she sought to shoulder.

“I hope I deserve it.”

“You do.” Said so simply, in that gruff voice, with those ink-dark eyes looking at her like that. Steady, focused, but with something else lingering in his gaze, something she couldn’t name. Daenerys braided her fingers together over her belly, a protective gesture. Jon Snow was unbothered by the lapse in conversation, seemingly content to look at her. Unnerved, Daenerys cast a glance at the equally inscrutable Aggo and Missandei and cleared her throat.

“I am pleased you made it through the day unscathed. Battle is messy business.”

Snow shrugged.

“The masters made me into a killer. So I kill,” he said laconically. Daenerys chewed the inside of her lower lip. There the cadence of a lament in the words, and her heart was moved.

“You are free now. I hope it is some small recompense,” she said softly. A muscle jerked in his face.

“More than you know,” he whispered. Daenerys’ heartbeat fluttered. Curse her wayward heart, so eager to pin its hopes on Jon Snow! He had returned, hadn’t he? He could be the one. Gruff voice, pale skin, scarred . . . oh gods, how could she endure it if he left again?

Jon Snow bent the knee before her, the sword angled across his knee.

“Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, I swear you my sword and my life. I will shield your back, and give my life for yours if need be.”

Daenerys clenched her jaw to keep it from hanging open. Whatever she had expected him to say, it hadn’t been that.

  Day Three: Jon

 In the dying twilight, lit by dancing oil lamps, her fair hair gleamed. Those eyes were more vivid than the sky outside. Not a muscle moved in her face—Jon supposed it was a queen’s task to hide her true feelings. It had been far too easy to slip into her camp, into her own tent. Jon resolved to change that, if she accepted him or not. He would browbeat and threaten as many as it took until she was safe. Listening outside the tent, he heard that worm Mormont wheedle and cajole. His queen would not be moved. Fierce.

She deserved a loyal man to serve her. A vow more binding than slavery: Queensguard. It rested on his tongue to pledge himself to be one of her Seven to keep her safe. History had great knights with peerless lineages don the white armor, but Daenerys already had exiles and criminals on her Queensguard, so perhaps a bastard former slave would also be acceptable. And yet . . . and yet his freedom was so fresh. The choice to serve her as he wished to was too great a temptation to resist.

“You seek to renounce your freedom so quickly?” she asked sharply, echoing his thoughts. Cold sweat slicked his skin. Would she refuse him? Jon knew he could not turn away.

“I am free because of you. Valar dohaeris,” he said. The crease between her brows relaxed a little.

“‘All men must serve.’”

“I will serve you,” he said, holding her gaze. However she wished. On the warpath, in the council chamber, in her bed. I must keep those thoughts in check. She deserves someone who serves out of love. Gods, but a man could drown in those eyes. Beautiful yes, but sharp with intelligence, warm with kindness. Ah, yes. Her face was remote and unreadable, but her glorious eyes betrayed her. Jon read perplexity and piqued interest in her them. What forestalled her? The gentle touch of her hand on his wrist startled him.

“Is this truly what you want?” she asked gently.

“Yes.” With all my heart.

“Then I accept your sword. Your life remains your own.” Jon nodded. I will never leave you. His heart soared. Hers.

“You may rise,” she said with a dazzling smile. Jon smoothly stood. His heart all but glowed. Hers. Always.

 Day Six

 The Dothraki had the finest horses, and by their khaleesi’s word, Jon was to have his pick. The whipcord thin bloodrider, Rakharo, led him down their picket lines, saying nothing. Those black eyes watched him, weighing him by some unseen measure. The suspicious looks did not pierce his armor. After years under Morrgys’ thumb, the captain’s honest qualm did not trouble him.

It had been years since he chose his horse from among Winterfell’s herds, and Jon knew enough of Dothraki to know his choice of horse would be dissected. The mares wouldn’t do, nor the golden colt, or the sorrel filly. Jon considered the spotted brown, but it was ewe-necked. The blue roan had uneven wear on his rear hooves. He was sound, but wouldn’t remain so for long. The bay and the dapple were well-made. The charcoal grey of the dapple said he was young. Jon murmured to him, stroking his thick neck. The long white-tipped ears were pricked in interest, nosing Jon’s hand in search of treats. Clear brown eyes, even teeth. A strong barrel chest, hard, clean legs.

“This one,” Jon said, swatting a horsefly from the dapple’s neck. Rakharo grunted and shrugged. Jon took it as a good sign.

“See Jorah the Andal for tack. Westerosi do not ride well in Dothraki saddles,” he said with a thin grin. Jon nodded, clicking his tongue to the dapple and leading it from the picket by a handful of wiry black mane. Rakharo muttered something in Dothraki—Jon had gleaned enough from Morbo to know it wasn’t insulting—and strode off to gather his own black. The march to Yunkai began today.

“What do you think?” Jon murmured to the dapple, “ready for a ride today?”

Jon squinted into the sunlight as he waded through the scrum of a dissembling camp. In the distance, Dothraki dismantled Daenerys’ magnificent three-posted tent. Ser Barristan was at her side, along with the other two bloodriders. She had bade him to gather himself. ‘Join me at the head of the column.’

For a former slave with no belongings save Longclaw, he now owned a horse leather tent, a folding cot with sheepskin and linen coverings, a stool, a lamp, and two books. Daenerys had lent him one of songs and stories of Essos, another on Valyria. They were hers, dog-eared and much-loved, and thus more precious than gold. There had not been time to fit him with armor, so he wore a leather gambeson, horsehair trousers, boots, and a shirt of mail. Perhaps one of Ser Jorah’s cast-offs, it was made for someone far wider ‘round the middle and several inches taller. Still, the music of the links chiming was comforting. All his new belongings were stowed neatly on a pack pony. Longclaw he carried with him—he was missing a swordbelt.

For the nonce, he must answer to Ser Jorah, but the older man had served Daenerys the longest. The gleam of sunlight on his pauldrons caught Jon’s eye where he stood tacking his own red stallion—a gift from Daenerys’ former Dothraki husband.

“Ser Jorah, I have my horse. Is there a spare saddle for me?” he said. Cool, direct. The older knight grunted, directing him with a jerk of his chin. There was one saddle left on the ropetree. It had seen better days, but Jon began tacking his dapple in silence.

“Where did you get that?” Ser Jorah growled.

Unsure if he meant the pack or the horse, Jon did not answer. He murmured to his dapple as he guided the crownpiece over his long ears. Something shifted and Jon moved without thinking, ducking left and swiveling around, his eating knife drawn and poised at Ser Jorah’s chin. Ser Jorah had meant to grab at him, and Jon had reacted, swift as lightning.

“Apologies,” Jon said, sheathing the knife, “what did you say?” There was wariness as well as loathing in Ser Jorah’s seamed face now.

“Where did you get the sword?” he snarled. Jon allowed a knife-thin smile. I’m surprised it took him this long to notice. It is a credit Daenerys had kept herself alive with such unobservant guards. Jon hefted Longclaw.

“Before I was captured by the slavers, I was a man of the Night’s Watch. Lord Commander Mormont gifted me Longclaw.” Several emotions flitted across Ser Jorah’s face. Surprise, confusion, grief. Jon almost pitied him.

“Why?”

“I saved his life,” Jon said. A better man would have offered the exiled knight the sword his family had carried for five hundred years, but the bonds of former slave and former slaver lingered. Jon tightened the girth strap and swung astride his dapple. He hadn’t been astride a horse since his disastrous escape attempt near Eastwatch. Jon settled in the saddle, relishing it. The dapple’s ears were pricked forward, prancing in place. Jon was tempted to dig his heels in and gallop to the far horizon. Instead, he drew rein, waiting politely for Ser Jorah to gain his seat. Once astride his stallion, Ser Jorah heeled to a canter to join Daenerys at the head of the column. Jon loosed rein to follow when Ser Jorah forestalled him.

“Join the rear guard, Snow. It is a long road to Yunkai.”

[444namesplus]

a abandoned abandonedmine abecean acrobatics aerin agea agent alawen ales alessia aleswell all aloys also ambush amelion an ancestor and anga another anutwyll anvil applewatch apprehension arcane are aren argonian arkved arms arpenia arrius arrowshaft as ash at atatar athrelor atrene aurus ayisha ayleids azani azura baalim baasha bag bak bandit bandits barren barrenmine barthel basin batul bawn bawnwatch bay beast become bedrock been belda beldaburo belletor belletorsfolly belongs bincal black blackheart blackwood blankenmarch bleak bleaker bleakmine bloated bloodcrust bloodmayne bloodrun blueblood boarding bodean bogwater boot border boreal both bottom bowl boy bramblepoint bravil break breakneck brellach brena bridge brina brindle brittlerock broad broken brotch bruma bulwark but by c cabin cadlew callia camonna camp can candle canulus capital capstone captive caractacus carandial carbo carmala cave cavern caverns cedrian cell ceyatatar chalman chance chapel charcoal chests cheydinhal chorrol city clans clavicus claws cloud coast coldcorn collapsed collapsedmine collarbone collector colovian completed copse corbolo count cove cracked crayfish creatures crestbridge cropsford crosier cross crowhaven crumbling crumblingmine culotte cuptor cursed

cursedmine cyrodiil dagny dark darkfathom dasek dasekmoor dead decker deepscorn deepwallow derelict derelictmine deserted desertedmine desolate desolatemine dirich districts dive divided dog doomed doomedmine door doublecross drad dragon dragonclaw drakelowe drunken dunbarrow dzonot each east echo echomine edge elenglynn empire empty emptymine endre entius estate exhausted exhaustedmine exit facian fallen fanacas fanacasecul faregyl farm farragut fat fatback fathis feed felgageldt fellmoor fieldhouse fighters fighting fingerbowl fisherman fissure five flask flats flecia float flooded floodedmine flowing fo foaming folly forest forlorn former forsaken forsakenmine fort frostfire fyrelight garlas garnet gate gernand ghosts glademist glen gnoll goblin goblins gold goodwill gottlesfont gottshaw gra graveyard grayrock great greenmead grey greyland grief gro group grove guild gutted guttedmine gweden hackdirt hale hame hand harcane harlun harm has hastrel haunted hauntedmine have haynote head heartlands heist held here hero hidden highcross highlands hill hole hollow home homestead horn horror horunn hotel house howling hrota hrotanda ill imperial in infested infestedmine inhabit inhabited inhabiting inn inside into involved irony is isle isles istirus it j ja jenseric jerall jim job kemen kindred king kingscrest knights kvatch labor lair lake lane large larsius last le leafrot leed level leveled leyawiin liberation linchal lindai lipsand listed lodge lonely lord lost lots luther mackamentain magia malada map marauders mare marked marksman marsh matius matron maw mazoga meeting mehrunes memorial mensa merchants mine mingo mirisa miscarcand mogens mongrel moor morahame moranda mortal moslin moss moths mountain mountains mouth muck n nagastani name namira narfinsel naso natural nayon nenalata nenyond new newlands newt niben nibenay nikel nine ninendava niryastare nisin nomore none nonungalo nonwyll nornal nornalhorst north northeast northwest not nothing now number oak

odiil of official ogres olav old omen on ondo one only ontus onyx or orc orrery orsimer other outlaw outside over pale panther part pass passwall patrolling pell pillaged pillagedmine pinnacle piukanda place plug plundered plunderedmine poppad possess pothole priory prison promises punk queen quest quests quickwater ra ramp range rayles razor red redguard redman redwater reed reedstand refugee region renegade repairing rest rickety ricketymine rielle ringleader river robber rock rockmilk roebeck roland roots rose roxey ruby rugdumph ruler rumare s sage saints sancre sandstone sardavar sava savlian scales scar scinia sea secret secrets sedor seeking sejanus selas sentinel septim seran sercen serpent settlements seven sewer sewers shadeleaf shadow shadowscale shardrock sharob shattered shatteredmine sheoth shetcombe shifter shinbone shivering shrine si sideways silorn silver silverfish silverhome sinkhole sisters skingrad sleeping slough small smoke smuggler some south southeast southwest split squandered squanderedmine st staff stallion stone strand strange strid suicides suitor sundercliff sutch swampy sweetwater system tack tail taken taking talwinque tap tarn tavern td teleman telepe temple the there they this thorn three throat thugs tiber tick tidewater timberscar time to toadstool tomb tong tooth top topal tor torbern totem tower trail training trap traps tried troll trossan trouble trumbe two twyll uderfrykte ultimate underpall undertow unearthing university unmarked urasek using vahtacen vale valley valus variela varondo varsa varus veins veyond view vile vilverin vindasel virtue vitharn vlastarus walker war wariel watch watchman water waterfront wawnet way weald weatherleah weedum welke wellspring wendelbek wenderbek wendir wenyandawik west weye weynon white whitmond wind with wood wooden yellow you your

[goldenhopevintage]

2 Vintage Pressed Glass Bowls

2 Vintage Pressed Glass Bowls  #berrybowl #candydish #fingerbowl #glassbowls #goldenhopevintage #hostessgift #housewarminggift #icecreambowl #nutbowl #pressedglass #vintage #vintagebowls Read the full article

[vintagedecoraddict]

Floral Rose Dish - Vintage Finger Bowl - Available now @ Vintage Decor Addict - Free Shipping in USA #vintagedecor #vintagedinnerware #rosedinnerware #finechina #porcelainbowl #dishes #porcelaincollectibles #vintagedecoraddict #vintage #madeingermany #fingerbowl #vintagedishes Here's the link - https://etsy.me/39pcLg6 or https://www.vintagedecoraddict.com/shop/20969380/mugs-cups-dinnerware (at Vintage Decor Addict) https://www.instagram.com/p/B9U-D8Hlv4O/?igshid=1afuzbk5p2gcn

[mia-africa-americas]

Fingerbowl, from a set of 12, c. 1929-1930, Minneapolis Institute of Art: Art of Africa and the Americas

Bowl with six hammered lobes; alternating lobes have impressed floral design Size: 1 5/8 x 4 11/16 x 4 1/2 in. (4.1 x 11.9 x 11.4 cm) Medium: Silver

https://collections.artsmia.org/art/8457/

[yetanotherthriftblog]

Coca-Cola cups, plates, saucers, and sauce bowls/fingerbowls. Really.

[bookofsarcasm]

#fingerbowl #restaurantephemera https://www.instagram.com/p/BsBqtYLAEVG/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=1bv3bml1cls67

[rosscountyhistoricalsociety]

    Cardboard box which once held disposable paper finger bowls, c. 1915. The poem touts their labor-saving qualities, but their popularity was because they were touted as being far more sanitary than ordinary finger bowls of metal or glass. A box-making trade publication mentioned it:

    Apparently, Mr. Miller’s concern about finger bowls had become a real issue. Restaruant patrons were concerned that the bowls were not being cleaned properly between guests. By 1918, the finger bowl had all but vanished from American tables.

[changeling-collective]

Ponies don’t sing

Inkstain: “We can’t discuses changeling matters in public.”

Fibonacci: “Hummm I think I might have us covered. There is an old safe house not to far from here.”

Inkstain: “Really?”

Fibonacci: “I know a dark secluded place A place where no one knows your face A glass of wine, a fast embrace It's called the Changelings’ Hideaway And all you'll see are silhouettes And all you'll hear are castanets And no one cares how late it gets Not at the Changelings’ Hideaway At the Golden Fingerbowl or any place you go You will meet your Uncle Max and everyone you know But if you'll go the spot that I am thinkin' of You will be free to talk with me and feed on love Just knock three times and whisper low That you and I were sent by Joe Then strike a match and you will know You're in the Changelings’ Hideaway”

Inkstain: “Did you just sing me details of a top secret changeling hideout... in public?”

Fibonacci: “What, you ponies sing all the time?”

Inkstain: “No we don’t.”

Fibonacci: “Yes you do, I saw like a half the city doing a choreographed musical number about how someone was having a bad day yesterday.”

Inkstain: “I have no idea what you are talking about.”

Fibonacci: “I’ve seen you sing at least 3 times.” Inkstain: “I think we need to take you to a doctor.”

@ryuredwingsreturn @elosoquelee

(The original song) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XC05YwDUmVg

[venettadennys-blog]

Item Customer Reviews From A1articles.

Development internet sites are inherently hazardous spots for any person on duty internet site, be they workers, device operators, foreman, or even visitors. For when many people speak of King Philip of Macedon, they generally reference his title as "the father of Alexander the Great". There are maps for all 5 boroughs of New York Urban Area, all of which you are going to need to publish with the application's 'Download and install Charts Right now' switch when you release the application for the first time. In 1904 he was blessed a priest, consequently he started an entire new phase in his lifestyle, including at time during World War I when he neighbored the cutting edge of the war being actually chaplain to the damaged soldiers. Sin city is the 2nd most unique urban area around the world, as well as I liked it there yet may find where folks might not LOVE it. Now, the refineries possess either closed or even are much smaller than they utilized to be. Casper, Wyoming's second biggest city, works along with a more varied economy, as a "retail, clinical as well as energy-industry company center for the surrounding location and for a lot of Wyoming." A preferred website to see there is actually Casper Mountain range, minutes far from midtown. I presume it is actually really necessary that you arrange some significant park time for your children while you are actually visiting New York to maintain you all sane by means of the times that they are certainly not totally amused and prone to pondering minds. Solomon in his petition of commitment of the holy place claimed, contacting God of God's kids, If they wrong versus you - for there is no one who performs certainly not transgression (1 Kings 8:46 ESV) and also talked to that The lord forgive all of them upon their penitence. AT&T suggests you low-priced, very easy and also relaxed utilization of calling cards that is actually an excellent perk for great deals of people. Wherever you journey, Shuttle Direct can ensure that you do not skip your vehicle on your holiday season abroad. The The big apple City police team is the most extensive in the nation. Exactly how could community, embodied by Esther's benefactor, Philomena Guinea, the fingerbowl account and also the females day lunch create Esther believe? Your initial stopover has to be a visit to the key area of prayer for individuals in UAE when you get here in the area. It's much harder, Kaskapisze-Dbajozdrowie.Info I believe, to do that in an urban area since you are actually regularly bordered through people as well as a ton of electricity and also adrenaline as well as hostility, so you need to develop a little bubble around you-- a sort of safety sphere of nutrients and restorative acts that will definitely make you think right-minded. In New York City Area, only a yellow medallion taxi taxicab is actually allowed to get passengers on the street. The moment in your life time, viewing the annual X-mas Program at Broadcast Area Music Venue is actually a must at the very least. When taking a trip with really little little ones that you set up some sort of, it is actually also essential meditation for them within the day. Albany, The big apple's condition capital, is actually positioned on the west bank of the Hudson Stream, north of New york city City and south of Montreal. This man would certainly have been William Borden, illegitimate kid of Mr. Borden, and he was actually, at that time, attempting to extort money from his well-off papa who was actually supposedly prepping a last will and testament. In my instance, the metropolitan area wants me. to travel around town each early morning keeping just one hr at each internet site. Las Vegas' distance to special prizes of nature such as Reddish Rock and Grand Canyon, Colorado Stream as well as Death Valley creates Sin Metropolitan area appealing travel place certainly not just for party goers but for attributes fans also. Oftentimes, folks have actually organized their whole lifestyles around retirement only to discover that a stroke or even bodily health problem modifies the future visions as well as assumptions they possessed. The writer of the vitally acclaimed Scandilicious" recipe books as well as factor to a number of various other manuals on food and also bistros, her dishes have actually seemed in The Times, Sunday Moments and also Marie Claire.

[cinamint]

Gel Nails - Removing Your Nail Enhancements

Nail enhancements like gel and acrylic nails are delightful to take a gander at and make your hands and feet look truly appealing. Moreover, there are a great deal of styles you can choose from for your enhancement offering you a chance to display your style. Notwithstanding, sooner or later of time you might need to remove your nail learn more enhancement and simply have your natural nails with regular nail paint on. It will then, at that point, be an ideal opportunity to plan a salon visit to remove the enhancements.

Recollect that nail enhancements stick firmly to natural nails because of the sub-atomic design of the enhancement and the manner in which they are cross connected so it isn't exhorted that you remove these counterfeit nails all alone.

As a nail professional it is significant that you select the right method of enhancement removal so as not to harm the natural nail plate of the client. Right off the bat, remember that meddlesome the enhancement off the natural nail plate ought to never be endeavored as this will harm and debilitate the natural nails and make them inclined to contaminations. You and your clients could never need that.

There are 2 manners by which a safe enhancement removal should be possible, the drench and remove method and the foil wrap removal method. The systems are as per the following:

First perfect the nail enhancement of all the lacquer and other nail embellishment. Then, at that point, record the nail surface with a 240 coarseness document. This will permit the remover to absorb speedier and accommodate quicker removal.

• Assuming that you are going in for the bowl drench removal method, warm up some remover, put it in the fingerbowl and afterward douse nails. Cover the nails with a towel to keep the nails warm while they douse to permit the remover to work all the more effectively. If there should be an occurrence of the foil method douse individual cotton cushions in remover, put on the nails and cover with a foil. Keep the nails covered for a decent 20-30 minutes for both the methods.

• Remove the towel from the nails and keeping the nails absorbed the arrangement clear out the enhancement with a fingernail skin remover or orangewood stick. Do likewise for the foil wrapped nails following 20-30 minutes.

• Clean the nails and buff them for sparkle. Knead with oil and condition the hands with rich lotion.

• Wash the hands to at last remove all enhancement follows and apply clean to the nails whenever wanted.

• Plan a next salon visit and simultaneously give the client tips to deal with their nails at home. Particularly so because the nail plate has debilitated to a degree when the enhancement has been removed.

[ukdamo]

A Healthy Meal

Carol Ann Duffy

The gourmet tastes the secret dreams of cows

tossed lightly in garlic. Behind the green door, swish

of oxtails languish on an earthen dish. Here are

wishbones and pinkies; fingerbowls will absolve guilt.

Capped teeth chatter to a kidney or at the breast

of something which once flew. These hearts knew

no love and on their beds of saffron rice they lie

beyond reproach. What is the claret like? Blood.

On table six, the language of tongues is braised

in armagnac. The woman chewing suckling pig

must sleep with her husband later. Leg,

saddle and breast bleat against pure white cloth.

Alter calf to veal in four attempts. This is

the power of words; knife, tripe, lights, charcuterie.

A fat man orders his rare and a fine sweat

bastes his face. There are napkins to wipe the evidence

and sauces to gag the groans of abattoirs. The menu

lists the recent dead in French, from which they order

offal, poultry, fish. Meat flops in the jowls. Belch.

Death moves in the bowels. You are what you eat.

[kittycakes-owo]

I'm in the mood to have two fingerbowls of champagne