There is an upcoming Manny Pacquiao- Ricky Hatton boxing bout on May 2, 2009. I know the streets would be deserted because everyone would be at home watching their Manny “Pacman” fight it out – head to head and pound per pound with Hatton.
There is one way to do this through Direct T V. Only DirectTV has 150 channels for very affordable prices. What more viewing is done with high definition resolution creating a visual experience that is totally unique from the rest you’ve seen on TV.
DirecTV also provides programming packages, direct HD and direct VDR experiences. It is only by going through the process that you’ll know the difference.
The sexual act is the consummation of a marriage. In some countries, couples who are not able to fulfill this personal intimate act could file for divorce on the grounds of sexual incapacity. Back in Taloctoc, Kalinga where I used to live, couples separated and married again if they were not able to sire a child. It is evident that in some cultures, having children too is one of the crucial factors for a successful marriage.
Children; however, should only be brought into this world when parents are able to provide for their needs. Lots of abandoned street children would attest to the fact that raising children has never been an easy job. The most important phase of children’s growth is their first 2 years as a toddler.
There are several things to consider, food, clothing and most importantly exuding to the child your parental love. You want to give the best daily careto your babies and toddlers. For clothing you should choose those that are warm and comfortable. For girls’ clothinghere are various styles you can choose from. Clothing and food is not the only thing you should be concerned of. Proper daily hygiene should also be observed together with proper feeding utensils and good playing materials. Their nursery equipmentshould be safe and sound.
All in all, ensuring your baby’s safety and health should be your primary consideration, coupled of course with your tender, loving care.
Normally, my ‘stupid-stories’ are about things that happened to me in the dim and distant past. But the story which I’m going to tell you now actually only happened a little less than six months ago.
It still hurts me, both emotionally and physically, to think too much about it. Still, I hope you get a little smile from reading it.
That’s the whole point really. * * * *
In my job, I sometimes have to go out into fields in the countryside and check out their boundaries. Six week ago, I had one such job which took me into the green green depths of County Mayo (Ireland, of course).
It was a lovely sunny afternoon as I drove out and met the very nice lady who owned the land. We had agreed to meet her elderly neighbour down the field so we both pulled on our boots and headed off together down the grassy slopes.
Soon enough, we came to a fence. It was made of barbed wire and interspersed with tall wooden posts. We had to get past it. The lady – let’s give her a name, let’s say… Mary! Right, well, ‘Mary’ inched her way through a tiny gap and left a fair scrap of her nice tweed jacket on the jagged edges of the wire.
I had my best and loudest red jacket on and I didn’t fancy tearing it so I decided to go ‘over the top’. My plan was to climb on top of one of the large wooden poles that made up the fence and then simply jump down the other side.
It didn’t work out that way.
I got up on to the pole all right. There was only room for one foot on top of it so I balanced there, one leg bent back, arms outstretched. I reckon I must have looked a bit like the Karate Kid except in Welly-Boots.
So for one graceful moment, there I was – perched in the countryside on my pole.
All was well with the world.
Then I went to jump down the other side of the fence.
Perhaps it was because Mary chose that very moment to shout, ‘Be Careful,’ at me.
Perhaps she caused the very air to become negatively charged with her concern.
Perhaps it was all simply destined to fail from the moment I mounted my pole.
Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps…
I launched myself from the top of the pole but the act of my launching caused the poorly anchored pole to fall away backwards behind me just as I departed it.
This transformed what should have been a simple leap to the ground into a graceless swan dive out into rural space.
Bear in mind I was about six feet off the ground when I parted company with the toppling pole. It felt like a long long way to fall.
On the way down I found time to realise that my chin was going to be my first point of contact with the Earth.
In a last-ditch attempt at vanity, I drew my head back to save my beloved chin.
I threw my arms out behind me too, so as to further take my lower jaw out of the impact zone.
It worked. I hit the ground chest first, head up, arms back.
I think it really was quite a remarkable show.
Mary ran up to me. ‘Are you all right?’ she gasped, “Are you all right?”
I was winded. I was as winded as a winded person can ever be winded. There was no breath in me.
But I could tell that Mary was deeply concerned. The way I was curled up clutching my chest, the poor lady was probably thinking that I was having a heart attack.
So I squeezed an answer out on my last dribble of air.
“I’m fine.” I wheezed, “Fine…”
Did I mention that Mary was ‘hard of hearing’?
Mary was as ‘hard of hearing’ as the post from which I had so recently sailed forth.
She shook me a bit.
“I said are you all right?” she wailed.
I recovered, after a while. I sat up and reassured Mary that I was indeed fine.
“I WAS ONLY WINDED!!” I said, “DO YOU HEAR ME? WINDED!”
In point of fact my stupidity had earned me two cracked ribs. But I wouldn’t know that until much later. For now, I pretended to have no ill effects at all.
It was critical that I regain some of my professional manner so that I could continue on and complete my job on a calm clinical way…
…as if!
(Really, I should end this story now – I’ve written enough words, I think. A story which has, up until now, been fairly embarrassing for me to tell is about to become completely mortifying. Still, I can’t stop myself from telling it. God help me I can’t!!)
On the way back up the field, after completing our little boundary-check, we came to the same fence again.
I had reinstated the pole as best I could so the fence was once again an obstacle to be overcome. Mary went through it exactly as she had done before.
I still wanted to save my jacket so I went with ‘Plan B’.
I walked to a point midway between two posts, pushed the barbed wire down and stepped over the top of it.
I do this all the time, it’s not a problem.
But this time, when I threw my leg over the fence , I got my first inkling that all might not be quite right with my ribcage.
A sharp pain wrenched through me. I let go of the barbed wire in shock and the evil wire shot up and snagged me around the place where my trouser-legs tend to meet up.
I hasten to explain, there was no ‘anatomical’ difficulty here – I had baggy waterproof pants on over my ‘regular pair’ (of trousers, dear, of trousers) so I wasn’t in danger of any fate worse than death.
But I was left in a dreadfully uncomfortable position. One leg was on the ground, the other leg was dangling in the air on the other side of the fence and my trousers were totally snagged as if on the barb of a fish hook.
Try as I might, I simply could not free myself from the fence.
Not to mention that I had two newly cracked ribs.
Okay, I mentioned it.
Mary watched me struggle for what seemed like twenty-five minutes and then she apologetically asked. “Can I give you a hand?”
I had no choice.
Dear Mary got down on her knees in the field and, at face level with my snagged trousers, she tugged and wrangled and finally got my errant crotch free again.
As I told you, her elderly neighbour had agreed to walk down the field that day and meet up with us for a chat…
…he never showed up.
For these small mercies, we can only give thanks.
@Ken Armstrong 2008
About the Author:
Ken Armstrong of Ken Armstrong Writing Stuff - is a genuine blogger with a generous heart. I know that those who read his blog would agree that he is a brilliant writer; he had published countless of his plays, stories and poems, and some were featured on stage, in Ireland. I could write pages and pages of his writing accolades. Read his impressive writing resume and you’ll know what I mean.
This article had been posted during the early days of this blog and some of you may not have read it , so I’m posting this again. You wouldn’t want to miss this.
Thanks for your votes. Again, thank you Ken for allowing me to re-post your article. More power and more successes for you! You deserve it!
Photo 2 by Zevotron____________________________________________________________________________________ ____________________________________________________________________________________
The first question that comes to your mind is: Do we have to do something when we obviously love each other?” Wouldn’t that be sufficient to make our marriage exciting and alive?” True enough, but even lasting, eternal love needs constant nurturing and care. The glaring fact remains that, much as couples love each other, the only constant thing in this world is change. People grow physically, emotionally and psychologically.
In the process of “growing up”, you may grow apart or grow closer. It is therefore, your responsibility as couples, to ensure that your marriage remains exciting and alive by doing activities that draw you closer together and not the other way around. These activities are really very simple ones.
Here are some pointers on how to keep your marriage exciting and alive:
1. Talk to each other.
Express your thoughts and feelings to your partner. Be open with what you want without disrespecting the other. Communication is still one of the major routes of true understanding.
Talk about your day to each other; the significant and the trivial parts, what made you smile, laugh, etc. When you genuinely talk to each other the relationship becomes more exciting.
Imagine not being able to tell your partner how good he/she makes you feel when you’re making love, wouldn’t that be a torture?
2. Do simple little things that would make him/her feel special.
The quotation “Simple little things mean a lot” is never outdated. Leave a note tucked in your spouse’s desk organizer telling him how much you love him. For husbands, give a rose to your wives on ordinary days. Bring home some gifts from her favorite bookstore.
3. Spend some time alone without any distraction.
Book a ticket for two to Paris, or if finances are low, then drive to the next town. Just be somewhere else that there would only be the two of you. Bring the children to their grandmother if needed, or hire a nanny. What is important is for you to spend time together.
If your work does not allow this, then do it at least once a week, or once a month, go out for a dinner date, swimming activity or spend an overnight stay in a local romantic hotel.
Capture the mood and ambiance that made you fall in love with each other. 4. Spring some surprises.
If you haven’t worn a sexy negligee before, then wear one and flaunt your assets to him. Prepare and unexpected dinner by candlelight when he comes home. Wear his favorite perfume.
For husbands, you could come home with a bottle of champagne for some night bonding. You could think of many more surprises based on your wives likes and hobbies.
5. Be innovative in making love.
Making love is an art. Read books and watch movies together to add spice to your love making. It is always exciting to try the new position you have watched on DVD. Don’t be shy to tell your spouse of what you prefer to do and what arouses and satisfies you.
Enjoying and deriving sensual pleasure from making love is a must for married couples. You must be certain that both of you are satisfied and satiated afterwards.
The moment after the act itself is even more crucial. Women want to be cuddled and embraced most especially after the act. Turning your back on your wives and snoring off to sleep is a demonstration of your insensitivity and callousness. This will make your wives feel used. Love her by being gentle and sweet even after the making love.
For wives, be expressive of your desire to be cuddled and pampered afterwards. Tell your husbands what you specifically desire. They are not mind-readers; tell them what you want done: “Could you put your arms around me until we’ve fallen asleep?”
6. Do activities together.
Wouldn’t it be exciting to have your husband dancing with you in a friend’s party? Or your wife watching with you outdoors in one of your favorite football games? Household chores could also be shared. They are much more fun when you turn them into happy chores. Doing activities together strengthens the bonds of belongingness and love.
Even child birth activities should be participated in by husbands. This would create a firm, meaningful bond between wife, husband and child. 7. Bring out the child-like trait in you.
This means being creative, insouciant, carefree, jolly, and having an unyielding belief that you could conquer whatever challenges that would assail your married life. This will bring a lilt to your steps, a smile in your face and a zest to your relationship.
Play and be happy. Humor will always diffuse a humdrum existence. The daily problems that would come to you may dampen your spirit and knock the joy out of you, but being jovial and positive about things would perk up your marriage.
You’re the best judge on what would make your marriage exciting and alive. Be creative and devise ways to have excitement and joy with your partner.
There was once a time when Christmas as we know it, almost did not arrive. It was the year when the act of a little boy, without his knowledge, had a powerful effect on this great tradition we know as the Season of Giving – Christmas.
Tony is a bright, lovely boy of nine. He is a middle child, with an older sister and a baby brother. Their family is a happy one, with lots of love to go around. Tony loves Christmas and every year, he patiently waits for the time when Santa Claus comes to their house to give presents.
One day in church, Tony heard about Jesus giving them the best gift ever. He also learned that the real meaning of Christmas is not about receiving but rather, giving.
“It is more blessed to give than to receive,” the preacher intoned.
Tony thought of Santa Claus, who did nothing but make children around the world happy by giving and giving and giving some more. So, young as he was, he decided to change that and be the one to give something to Santa Claus for a change.
“It’s not fair for him to be giving and giving and we kids not giving him anything in return,” he thought. He could not wait for Christmas to come. He started making a list of all possible gifts to give Santa Claus.
He thought long and hard about what Santa Claus is like, so that he would get him the perfect present. He read books about where Santa lives and how he looks like, what he wears and just about everything about him.
Aside from reading, he also asked his mother and father, his teacher and friends, what they thought was the best present for Santa Claus. Some of his friends thought it unusual to be asking such a question.
“Why Tony, are you planning to reverse Christmas this time?” teased Randy, his playmate.
“I haven’t heard of anyone ever giving Santa anything,” taunted another playmate.
Tony ignored the jibes. Instead, he thought about how to give the present to Santa Claus. Would he just leave it on the mantelpiece, beside the glass of milk and cookies they always left for Santa? Would he write a letter to his old bearded friend as well? How about posting it?
“Oh!, it would be nice to hand the present personally to him,” Tony thought.
His next concern was how much to spend and where to buy the present. He tried to save every penny – the coins his parents give him when they go to the candy shop, the money from Grandma when they go visit once in a while. He also planned to ask a few more coins from Mom when it’s time to do the Christmas shopping.
At last, when Christmas was nearing, he asked his Mom to bring him along for shopping. He went to a lot of shops but alas!, he could not find a suitable present for someone whose life mission is to give away presents! He could not have guessed how daunting a task such as choosing Santa’s present would be.
Then, all of a sudden, a thought came to him. A glorious, wonderful, brilliant idea! He would write a poem for Santa Claus. Yes, that would be his gift to his hero! He will ask his father to help him put the poem in a frame and have it posted to Santa. Perhaps, it will inspire Santa Claus to make more children happy this particular Christmas.
That night, Tony was juggling ideas and thoughts around in his head all through supper. He was stringing beautiful words together to form lines and phrases to capture his lofty thoughts about who Santa Claus is to him. Surely, the old guy will be mighty delighted!
Lying in bed, his mind never stopped working. He could hardly get himself to sleep. He now had a title for the poem and the first two paragraphs. He will make it short and sweet and full of meaning. After all, a young boy like him only had simple thoughts and a simple message.
Meanwhile, up in the North Pole, where Santa’s team of elves are busy assembling and wrapping and checking Santa’s list twice and thrice, Santa Claus is sitting forlorn in his usual chair that rocks and plays a melody by the fire. Mrs. Claus is like a bee hovering over him, handing him a mug of steaming coffee to chase away the cold, adjusting the blanket on his knees, and rubbing Santa’s back, reassuring him that this Christmas will be another success just like the thousands of Christmasses in the past.
Santa Claus believed his dear wife, and yet, he knew that he is not well. He looked back on all those years when he enjoyed flying high in his sleigh bearing all the goods boys and girls have been dreaming of all year round. Yet, right now, something is bothering him. His spirit is not quiet within him. His heart is not at all delighted at the thought of making children happy once again.
Mrs. Claus suggested that they call Mr. Elf Ringleader to inquire about what is troubling Mr. Claus. Mr. Elf Ringleader has a gift to see beyond what is visible. He also has the ability to inquire of the heavens about what is troubling his fellow creatures.
At once, Mr. Elf Ringleader was summoned to the Claus residence. Upon entering, he immediately sensed something wrong in the atmosphere, as if a heavy weight was bearing upon his spirit. When he saw Mr. Claus seated and looking rather out of his usual character, he soon realized what was wrong.
The winter witch is at work! Her spell is working against the good intentions of Santa Claus and his entire workforce of family, elves, and reindeers. This spell makes one despair when there is nothing to despair of, distressed when everything is fine and miserable when the world is as rosy as can be.
Mr. Ringleader solemnly declared what he thinks is the impending doom of the Claus dynasty. Mr. Claus, and all his forebears, carried on the noble tradition of giving and sharing during Christmas time. This tradition goes centuries back. Thanks to the winter witch, this might just be the end of such a beautiful and selfless practice.
“What should we do?” asked Mrs. Claus, her face the picture of absolute distress.
She knows how much gift-giving means to Mr. Claus. He is nearing his retirement, and will soon pass the reindeer rein to their oldest son. Surely, it will break his heart to see the doom of this great family tradition in his watch. What about the future Claus generations? What will life mean to them without doing what they were always meant to do?
As she was pondering on these thoughts, she could hear Mr. Ringleader say still in that solemn voice, “The spell is profound in its damaging effect but it takes such a simple act to break it. Mr. Claus must receive a gift from a pure heart that gives selflessly in order to reverse the effects of the winter witch spell. He had been doing the giving all his life and this time, there must be some sort of giving towards him to revive his flagging spirits and save Christmas.”
“Oh! how can this be possible? There has never been anyone who gave us any gift! Oh! this is not happening.
Are we doomed forever to a life of no purpose?” wailed Mrs. Claus. She can imagine a bleak future with nothing else to do and no one to make happy.
On such a sad note, Mr. Ringleader departed from the Claus residence. Before going to bed, Mr. and Mrs. Claus, together with everyone with them in their home, prayed together for a miracle.
Back in Tony’s house, it’s almost morning. He arose early to put his poem on paper and polish it one last time. At last, it is now finished. He went to his father who was reading the morning paper over a piping hot mug of coffee and toast lathered with thick butter and marmalade.
“Father,” the boy hesitated a little bit. “Would you mind if I ask you a big favour?”
“Of course I don’t mind, Tony,” his father answered. “What can I do for you? Just don’t ask for the moon,” he managed to jest.
“Remember what the Pastor said one Sunday about giving as the real essence of Christmas? Well, I have decided to give something to Santa Claus for a change.”
“That is a noble thought, Tony. I am mighty proud of you for coming up with such a wonderful idea! I can imagine how happy Santa will be to receive a present.”
“Do you think so, father?” asked the little boy, his face animated and aglow.
“I honestly think so, my son,” his father beamed with pride.
“Can I leave this poem that I wrote for you to put in a frame and post it to Santa Claus today, then? His address is at the back of this paper.”
Having been assured by his father, he kissed him goodbye and went back to his room to prepare for school.
As Christmas approached, Tony was beside himself with excitement.
A week later, back at the North Pole, an excited elf was running frantically to the house with a package in his hand. He had just come from checking the mail box for some news about more toys that they ordered for Christmas. While the winter witch spell is still at work, they were still hoping against hope for the miracle they prayed for to happen. So work continued in Santa’s workshop as boxes upon boxes are filled with presents, lists are checked twice and then thrice and more sleighs packed with more boxes.
“Mrs. Claus! Mrs. Claus! There is a package for Mr. Claus,” cried the elf. “I have a delightful feeling this is the miracle we have all been waiting for.”
“Oh, come on, my dear elf. Contain yourself, will you?” chided Mrs. Claus. “Mr. Claus is still in bed and he is likely to have breakfast in the room so let us be careful not to rouse him unnecessarily. He was unable to sleep well last night, that’s why.”
While saying this, Mrs. Claus was busy turning the box over to check who it came from. Then, her hands stilled as she read the return address: Tony O’Connor, 7 Hazel Drive, Derby, Nottingshire. Who must this person be? She hasn’t heard of such a name before.
She thanked the elf and quietly made her way to where Mr. Claus was lying down. He heard her approach and was propped high on his pillows when Mrs. Claus entered their room. At once, Mr. Claus’ eyes went to the package and he held out his hands eagerly to receive it. Mrs. Claus detected a slight trembling of those gnarled, lovely hands of his.
Very tenderly and lovingly, Mr. Claus unwrapped Tony’s present and as he read the poem, tears ran down his cheeks. Ironically, as he was crying and weeping for joy, he could feel his strength and vigour returning. There was an apparent lifting of a heavy load off his chest. The air seemed fresher, the surroundings brightening up. This is it! This is the miracle they prayed for, and it came through the simple gift of a little boy who did not know what to give but gave something of himself anyhow.
This is Tony’s poem for Santa:
All these years you gave to kids
Made them happy with your gifts
Your arrival we dream all year
Your Ho!ho!ho!’s we want to hear.
This Christmas I’m being good
I want to give, as you would
A gift to say thank you
For all the good you do.
Christmas is for giving
It’s a time for love-sharing
Though you give and give to kids
A single gift you never received.
This Christmas I’m mighty glad
Am grown now, a young lad
I will give you the best I can
Thank you, Santa, you’re my man!
And so, that year, Christmas went on as usual. Santa Claus did his usual round of gift-giving on Christmas eve and made thousands of children happy and loved. When he came to Tony’s house, he wept more tears of joy as he carefully and lovingly filled Tony’s stockings with Christmas goodies.
Before sleeping that night, Tony was so happy thinking that he made Santa feel appreciated this Christmas. Little did he know that he was the real hero.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
MARIA TERESA BANIAGA is an excellent writer having graduated from one of the most prestigious universities in the country – University of the Philippines. She is right now in the UK with her family, and in spite of work and her parenting duties, she is still, able to maintain two blogs: HotMomma and Pinoy Around the World. I admire this woman a lot and I bow to her writing prowess!
Mathe and her family
She has this to say for herself, quote:
“HotMomma is a mother of two wingless angels, married to a wonderful man for more than 12 years already and currently based in England. An aspiring writer, she dreams of one day publishing bestsellers about amazing stories of people she meets along the way. Meanwhile, days are spent looking after the boys and the home, where she creates and keeps a haven for the whole family. An avid cook, a health enthusiast, a driven mom and wife to be the best to those who matter most to her.”
Unquote.
Need I say more? Visit her blogs and read more about her interesting, personal adventures.
N.B. THE STORY MAYBE “OFF” SEASON, BUT THE MESSAGE WOULD STILL BE THE SAME FOR ANY TIME OF THE YEAR! SHOULD I GREET YOU MERRY CHRISTMAS IN ADVANCE, FOR YEAR 2009?
Who does not love comfort and beauty? I do. I want comfortable and attractive furniture around me. No matter how modest my house is; I always surround myself with cozy and good things. Good, modern furniture is essential for comfort at home. Be it in the living room, bedroom, bathroom or dining room. You should invest in good and durable furniture because this would be one of the major factors that would convert your house into a home.
There are high quality designer, modern furniture from Germany, Italy Belgium and Spain which are 100 % authentic and will surely make your home –not only a house- but a haven where you can seek solace and safety , away from the maddening crowd and enjoy yourself in the comfortable and genuinely European crafted furniture.
At NYC concept furniture, there are ingenious styles of stands, entertainment centers, closets and wardrobes, bedroom furniture and all types of household items that you can select from. What more, financing is available, if you do not have enough cash.
Home should always give you that feeling of relief, security and belongingness. This could only be possible if you feel comfortable and safe amidst the ambiance of your furniture.
The song Danny Boy has been a big part of my childhood days. This is because it has been and is still is my mother’s favorite song. I don’t know why she knows so many Irish songs. I have to ask her that one day. But my fond memories of those blissful days were of her singing to us Danny Boy. She has a melodious, soprano voice and every time she is requested to sing, Danny Boy would always be foremost in her list. She even composed a native song to the tune of Danny Boy, and the folks out there in the hinterlands of Kalinga learned how to sing this beautiful Irish song. I have just heard Deanna Durbin from you tube and that was exactly how my mother sang it.
My relatives from the mother side are all good singers and I would like to believe I had inherited some of this talent for singing because I can carry a tune too…lol….
There are various versions to the song and I don’t know who the original singer was. Anyone who knows? Ken Armstrong, perhaps you can help us with this one? Thanks.
Listen to the song as performed by Cliff Richard and Helmut Lotti- two of the world’s best singers – and be refreshed and invigorated. You have to play it twice so it would download properly. Enjoy!
Oh Danny boy, the pipes, the pipes are calling From glen to glen, and down the mountain side The summer’s gone, and all the roses dying ‘Tis you, ’tis you must go and I must bide.
But come ye back when summer’s in the meadow Or when the valley’s hushed and white with snow ‘Tis I’ll be here in sunshine or in shadow Oh Danny boy, oh Danny boy, I love you so.
But when you come, and all the flowers are dying If I am dead, as dead I well may be You’ll come and find the place where I am lying And kneel and say an “Ave” there for me.
And I shall hear, though soft you tread above me. And all my grave will warmer, sweeter be for you will bend and tell me that you love me and I shall sleep in peace until you come to me.
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