Allison Bruning's Blog, page 54

LID: Time to Get Your #Ninja On!

ninja waitress by Brandon Daniel
@http://www.flickr.com/photos/bdu/4725...


December 5
International Ninja Day








Happy International Ninja Day. International Ninja Day began in 2003 by the website Ninjaburger in conjunction with the December 5, 2003 release of The Last Samurai. Here's a scene from the movie where ninjas cause havoc on a village.

International Ninja Day is celebrated throughout out the world yet it is not widely recognized. The day is intended to celebrate the martial arts. Many people celebrate by wearing ninja masks to work or dress up like a ninja. You could also make ninja cookies, ninja crafts and even play ninja games. Just don't kill anyone today, alright?
Ninja Facts
Americans have been long fascinated by the ninja. I must admit of all the areas of martial arts, ninjas  are my favorite. It can be hard to distinguish fact from legend surrounding the many ninja myths out there. Despite the legends, not much is known about ninja history. Here are some interesting facts we do know about ninjas.  Twenty-four Paragons of Filial Piety of Our Country (Honchô nijûshi-kô)
Public Domain - 1842 to 1843According to Japanese folklore, the first ninja was Prince Yamato Takeru. You can read his story here: http://wayofninja.com/2008/yamato-takeru-the-first-ninja/  522 AD -  Japanese monks begin to practice Nonuse, the art of stealth. They begin to trade information between the Japanese ruling classes. The priests were nonviolent and were considered to be "mystics"645 AD - Japanese priests perfect their fighting skills. They are being harassed by the central Japanese government. In response,  they acknowledge their nonuse abilities and it becomes well known throughout Japan. 794 - 1185 AD - Japan is at it Imperial peak. Military clans begin to rise up towards the end of this period. There are many uprisings. Families fight against each other in order to overthrow the empire.  The Hogan Rebellion leads Japan towards Feudalism. Practitioners of nonuse are in high demand during this time. 850 AD - the Chinese Tang dynasty begins to fall. Some of the Tang generals escape to Japan where they brought new fighting tactics and philosophies that were adapted by the ninja. 1020 AD - Chinese monks arrive in Japan brining their own fighting techniques and medical practices with them. The techniques had originated in India and made their way across Tibet to China.  The Chinese monks teach their ways to the Japanese warrior-monks, or yamabushi.1161 AD -  Daisuke Togakure was born into a Samurai family. He would renounce his bushido code (the honorary code of the Samurai) and with Kain Doshi, a Chinese warrior monk, create  a new form of warfare known as ninjutsu. It was a blend of Chinese and native Japanese fighting styles with no rules. They started the first ninja school. Ninja schools are known as TogakureryuNinjas were covert agents or mercenaries in Ancient Japan. Their duties included espionage, sabotage, infiltration, assassination, and open combat in certain situations. While the Samuri was honor bound by strict guidelines the ninjas were not. This made them the perfect agent for an Japanese ruler who needed something done in secret.  They were most likely recruited from the lowest class.Women were also ninjas and were very good it.You can learn more about ninjas at http://www.winjutsu.com/ninjakids/nk_...

CWA: #Zombie Invasion

"Ladies and Gentlemen, please keep your children close and do not leave the the room. We will not be leaving the cruise ship today. I assure the military presence surrounding this hall is of the utmost necessity," Tasha said as a group of soldiers wheeled in large round oil drum and placed it in the middle of the room. They stepped back into formation. All eyes stared upon the large object covered with a black sheet. What was inside?
As if Tasha has heard your thoughts, she lifted the black sheet to reveal the image of a man's head encased inside the drum. People shrieked with horror. Some wanted to run away but the military had stopped them. The sight of head never bothered you. You walk towards Tasha staring at the image. This wasn't no ordinary head. It was a ...
"Zombie," Tasha finished your thought with her hand over the microphone. You glance sharply at her.
"A zombie head? Where are we Tasha, voodoo land?"
"Not quite." She raised the microphone and began to speak. The people slowly gave her their full attention. "Our tour guide cannot take you to her land today for safety reasons. We thought it would be best if we showed you what is threatening humanity in her land and why you cannot go outside this room. Beside me is the head of a Zombie our tour guide had killed this morning. Don't worry it's dead not the living dead. She made certain of that. You may look upon it but I do ask that you don't touch it."
"That's because you can't trust Zombies," an eighteen year old woman said from the back of the room.
"Ah, our tour guide has arrived," Tasha said as the woman walked to the middle of the room. Tasha bent down, took out a Please Do Not Touch sign and placed it on top of the canister.

Zombie by Aprilzosa @ http://www.fotopedia.com/items/flickr...
I had to go look up cruise ships. You see, in a post-apocalyptic world, there is not a lot of time for shuffleboard and standing in buffet lines. In fact, that is probably what zombies would call a bunch of us living, breathing types standing in a queue…a buffet line.
My name is Snoe Gainey, I am the 18-year-old daughter of Samuel Todd and Meredith Gainey. I never knew my parents. My dad died before I was born and my mom gave me up so that she could go out and explore a world over run by the undead. To each his own, I guess.
It has been almost twenty years since the first zombie was reported. Society didn’t handle it too well. That is a surprise because I guess there were hundreds of books about just such an event taking place BEFORE it actually happened.
These days, we are mostly what you might consider tribal. Small clusters of people have chosen various locations and fortified them. We trade goods and try to offer help when needed. However, there is a rumor of an army massing to the east, and some say that the new president is somebody with an infamous reputation.
I guess the best thing I can do is share what a week in MY world can be like…
Saturday, June 1st
Five years ago, I received my mother’s journal. Now, at age nineteen, I think I have the discipline to begin one myself. Sure, I tried a few times in the past, but it just never took. I would forget, and then, once I remembered, so much time had passed that I would just give up and say why bother. A few days ago, Mama Lindsay came back from her unit’s escort of the Rose Colony’s president out to the Ten Pacific Nations Confederated tribal lands, something to do with a renewal of a bunch of treaties.
Anyways, she sent a messenger for me to pick her up after her DECON certification. (Everybody who ventures out of the confines of a Safe Zone has to be tested before they are allowed in general population.) It seems she found all my old failed attempts at starting a journal when she was loading out for her trip. She didn’t want to bring it up until she got back just in case we had a blow up over it.I should probably come clean with the fact that I supposedly have a hot temper. Mama Lindsay says it is proof of genetic influence on personality.
So I guess she decided to wait until she got home to have the big conversation about me keeping a journal. I think she was being a little silly. After all, it was just a little scribbling on paper. We have a rule…no arguing before a patrol. Nobody wants to have their last memories of a loved one be of some fight over something stupid. We started that rule after Mama Janie and her entire farming group were wiped out by a Mega Herd—some reports claim there were over twenty thousand undead that day. I was only five or six at the time, but I think Mama Lindsay and Mama Janie had gotten into it over something like taking out the trash or sorting the compost; basically they had an argument over something mundane. To this day, I’ve never had the heart to ask what exactly they had quarreled over.
Mama Lindsay says the only reason she didn’t kill herself in those rough days that followed was because of me. She said I was her sole reason to live for almost two years after Mama Janie died. A few days later, Mama Lindsay sat me on her lap and we made a pinky promise to never let ourselves separate if we are angry at each other. I am proud to say we kept that promise all these years,When I met her at the DECON station, I could tell she’d had a tough run. Half of her weapons were either missing from their sheathes, or visibly damaged. Her eyes had dark circles under them and her forehead had those two deep creases that it gets when she is either exhausted or pissed.I took her field pack and we headed to the supply depot for groceries. At first, she didn’t say a word. Since she had called for me, I knew she would get to it when she was ready. Finally she just stopped walking and turned to look me in the eye.
“Are you leaving?”
When Mama Lindsay asked me that question, I guess I was shocked. More than that, I realized that I guess I’d known for a long time that anybody who knew me, or better yet, knew my birth mother, waited to see if I would leave on some crazy journey.
That is the price you pay when your birth mother is famous for being a Traveler. By the way, that’s as close to an insult here as you can get. Here in the Rose Colony, a ‘Traveler’ is somebody who refuses to be a part of the community.
In the world we live in, not being a part of a community carries the same stigma as the Old World welfare whore. I learned in one of my history classes that there was a small sub-culture of women who had babies, lots of times by different men, and lived off of checks they got from the government. I came home from school with a lot of questions that day.
The problem with Travelers is that they don’t even try to help anybody but themselves. They scavenge the Old World and sell anything worthwhile to the highest bidder. Sure, they risk their lives—not many Travelers live past twenty-five according to the statistics—and usually have some amazing artifacts to show for it, but it all self-centered.
It hurt me a little that, after all these years, Mama Lindsay could think I would do anything like that. I was raised to be a part of the community effort. I can’t really remember much about Mama Janie, but the images I do have are one of a person who always helped others and worked very hard. I have one clear memory about how when she would come in from the fields, she would always have something from the garden hidden in one of her pockets for me to find when I helped take them for washing.
It is sad that I know more about the father who died before I was born and the mother who abandoned me than I do about a woman who loved me, told me bedtime stories, and taught me to read and write.
Seeing how worried Mama Lindsay was at that moment made it that much more nerve-wracking about what I had to say. When the words came out of my mouth, I was not sure how she would react.“I want to join the Escort and Expedition Force.”
Mama Lindsay has been the commander of the EEF for three years. I still remember how proud I was the day that the colony president handed her the sword and crossbow. I knew on that day that I wanted to follow in her footsteps. I also knew that she wanted me to choose a safer profession.I honestly believe that one of her biggest concerns over me was that I would get outside the walls and feel drawn to explore the world. After all, it is what made my birth mother famous.That brings me to my birth mother. Meredith Gainey. She and my birth father, Samuel Todd, have the three bestselling books of all time in the ZE (Zombie Era). You might think it is neat to be the daughter of two celebrities.
No. It’s not.
You see, there are a few different sorts when it comes to people and my parents. With Sam, it goes one of two ways; there are the creepy ones who see my father as some sort of demi-god, they get all weird when they meet me and it is actually kinda scary. And then there are the ones who have basically memorized his writings and feel the need to tell me about how “deep and philosophical” my father was as a writer.
The reactions about my mother are, shall we say, a bit different. There are some who see her as this avenging warrior. Her battle with The Genesis Brotherhood is a very popular story. There are some who see her as one of the early pioneers who blazed some sort of trail. There are others who see her as a selfish woman who stands as a reminder for a lot of what was wrong with the pre-ZE society.I just see her as the person who abandoned me right after I was born. Don’t get me wrong, I am thankful. I had two amazing mothers who loved me and devoted their lives to making me a good person.
I can still see the look on Mama Lindsay’s face. All of that relief that came first…then the typical “motherly” concern. No, her baby was not going to follow in her birth-mother’s footsteps. Yay! Instead, she was choosing the most dangerous profession in the colony. Crap.
Saturday, June 2nd
Jenifer came over today. I guess Mama Lindsay told her about my decision. Jenifer travelled with Meredith for quite a while. She got burned up real bad during the battle with The Genesis Brotherhood.
I guess it is okay to call her “Jenifer” in my journal. Everybody else calls her “Madame President.”She wanted to congratulate me on my decision to join the EEF. By the big deal she made of it, I could tell she was enjoying Mama Lindsay’s annoyance.
Jenifer used to be the person Mama Janie and Mama Lindsay called when they needed somebody to watch me. I guess they went through a few sitters when I was two or three because I was “a hellion” according to the stories. In an act of desperation, they called Jenifer. I guess they thought a half-burnt young woman with most of her head unable to grow hair because of all of the scars, coupled with her shriveled raisin of a left eye, would scare me straight. Instead, it seems that I formed quite a bond with her.
I was with ‘Aunt’ Jeni when I killed my first zombie. We were out picking wild blueberries when one came out of the tall grass. Creepers are the worst. Missing their lower half, they get through the picket lines more often than a walker. This one had an even bigger advantage: it was a child.He couldn’t have been any older than six—my age at the time. His clothing had long since deteriorated, and the years had taken their toll on the belly of the wretched thing.
I remember every detail about that boy. The way you could tell his hair had been curly, even though it was so caked and matted with filth, the piece of bone that stuck out from what remained of the left leg—which was missing from just above the knee. The fact that the entire right leg stayed intact and still had a leather boot practically grafted to the foot.
Jenifer gave me a spear and told me it was time that I learned how to put one down. I thought it would be easy. You hear about it or read my birth parent’s journals and think there is nothing to it. Pop it in the head and it’s done.
It took me three tries. The first time, I jabbed and my spear scraped down one side of its face. The second time, I stabbed it through the neck. I got so mad that I kicked it onto its back and stabbed it through the eye.
I remember staring at it for what felt like just a few seconds, but it was noticeably darker when Jenifer took my hand and led me home. I must have counted each of the nine remaining ribs a couple hundred times.
Anyways, it was sweet of Jenifer to come over and wish me luck. I am pretty sure she doesn’t do that for every single person who enlists in the EEF.
Sunday, June 3rd
My last day as a civilian—so to speak. I met with a few of my friends. (It is a bit creepy with how many ‘Sams’ and ‘Merediths’ I know.) We all went out to the corridor with crossbows, sat up on the barricades, and passed around a bottle of homemade blackberry wine while we took turns dropping shamblers with the crossbow.
The parents all hate it when we do it, but kids have been doing this for years. It is some sort of ritual. Nobody knows who started it, but for some reason, if you join the EEF, you come out here on the last day. You and a few friends drink a bottle and shoot the crossbow. The winner is the person who loses the fewest bolts. I remember something in my mom’s journal about her crossbow being fitted with the retriever reel. Of course, that is standard issue now. Nobody has bolts to waste.
I do have a guy that I like…but we already talked it over and decided that we will hold off getting serious until I finish my first tour. We almost ‘did the deed’ a few nights ago, but he was super sweet and it was actually Tim who put a halt to things.
That brings me to my sweetie, Tim Coatney. He was one of the kids rescued from that mansion where The Genesis Brotherhood had their base. He works the farms and is a very BIG boy. He has this baby fine blonde hair that I love to run my fingers through and arms that make the world disappear. I know that I am going to miss him, and I know that it is possible that some other girl will scoop him up when I leave on my first run.As I lie in bed with my candle and this silly little book, I wonder if I will be able to keep it up. I actually lost it today…it was in the dining hall at the table where I ate breakfast. I am already wondering how my birth parents carried those damn things through all the crap they went through.
Monday, June 4th
I feel like I’ve been beaten with a really big stick. I hurt in places that I didn’t even know I could hurt. I thought I’d been so clever with my morning jogs and my secret workouts. Thing is…when it is just you, if a little fatigue sets in, you can call it quits or ease up. The only reason I’m writing this entry is to prove they didn’t beat me out there today.
Tuesday, June 5th
Didn’t think it was possible, but I hurt worse today. I made the mistake of asking what all the running and climbing and jumping had to do with being in the EEF.Our little group had to load a bunch of rocks into our field packs and run Tower Hill. That is a big hill that all the old radio towers for the area sit on top of between The Corridor and Old Portland.On the plus side, it got us outside the barricade…we even saw a few lone shamblers—no, we weren’t allowed to take them down—which for two of our team, were the first wild contacts. On the down side…did I mention the hill?
I guess now is a good time to say that we don’t see that many zombies close up these days. The Sunset Fortress Colony is deep enough behind the barricade that, if you don’t want to…you don’t have to ever see them. One of the guys in our team is from one of the Revelationist families.The Revelationists are a religious group. They believe that we are living in the “End Times” or something to that effect. They don’t usually join the EEF, but this guy is the son of the pastor or priest or whatever they call themselves for the Sunset Fortress chapter.
They aren’t crazy like The Genesis Brotherhood; they just have a certain set of beliefs. We have most of the Old World religions represented—along with a few new ones. Nobody cares if you are Christian, Muslim or Revelationist these days. There are too many other problems. I guess it used to be a thing in the Old World. There are lots of things about that time that don’t make sense to my generation.
So, the thing about the guy who’d never seen a zombie before that made my day was the fact that he actually asked permission to get a closer look. All of us were waiting for our field trainer to bust his ass or make us all do more push ups. Instead, he stopped the run and told us all to take up defensive positions around the walker. Then, he escorted the kid down for a closer look! It was like he became human all of a sudden.
I watched them walk down to the thing. The trainer stayed with the guy—I think his name is Pete, but I am really not sure—and was talking to him. Then, when they got about ten or so yards away, the trainer grabbed the kid by the shoulders and turned him so that they were face-to-face before he said something that sounded serious by the tone, but that we couldn’t actually hear. After that, he just gave the kid a pat on the back and let him approach the zombie.
Of course, zombies don’t care what your religion is…they just want to eat you. As soon as it saw the kid, it started for him. I didn’t know what to expect and was sorta curious when the kid pulled a book out of his pack. He just kept walking backwards and I could hear that he was chanting something I just couldn’t hear it clear enough to make out anything. After a handful of seconds, he pulled out this long, heavy blade and split the zombie’s skull.
After that, the trainer was back to being a total jerk. He made us finish our run and acted like nothing had ever happened.
Thursday, June 7th
Yesterday we took an overnight trip out to a small stream where one of the farming teams has been spotting a few shamblers sniffing around the area. It is important to keep the farming areas clear; sighting a few zombies can be no big deal, but if it becomes a regular occurrence, it can mean the leading edge of a mob.
Mobs have been reported (if you can believe what some of the Travelers say when they pass through) to stretch on for dozens of miles. We’ve seen a leading edge arrive almost a week ahead of the main body once. The estimated number was over two hundred thousand.
Some of the older folks, like Mama Lindsay, say that the mobs are like cartoon snowballs. I guess, in the cartoons, snowballs were rolled downhill and became bigger than houses. I’ve rolled a snowball down a hill…it went about two feet and didn’t really do much of anything. Personally, I don’t get it, but there are a lot of things about the Old World that don’t make sense to my generation.Supposedly, people used to sit at pee-sees and type all their conversations to each other. People would meet and get married without ever meeting each other! They could type things and people in whole other parts of the world could read it right then. Seems creepy.
Some of the old timers say that the reason the zombies wiped us out so fast is because everybody was so busy blogging, tweeting and Facebooking about it. They say that the zombies were at the door before anybody actually tried to act.
So, last night, I was on watch with Sam Simmons. (He is the Revelationist pastor’s son.) We saw a few coyotes, a bunch of raccoons and a skunk. Not one single zombie.We broke camp at first light and headed back. This evening, the second training unit (who took over for us) just got back an hour ago. They made seven kills!It is SO not fair.


Who is TW Brown?
TW Brown is the author of the Zomblog series and the Dead series. He is deeply immersed in pursuing his dream of being a “full-time” writer while trying to balance the duties of husband, father, friend, and Border Collie owner. He keeps busy reading and editing the numerous submissions for a variety of upcoming anthologies and full-length titles for May December Publications. He has had short stories published by Pill Hill Press, Living Dead Press, and others. 
You can contact him at: twbrown@maydecemberpublications.com or visit his website at www.maydecemberpublications.com.  You can follow him on twitter @maydecpub and on Facebook under Todd Brown, Author TW Brown, and also under May December Publications.

LID: World's Oldest Game

December 4National Dice Day

Happy National Dice Day. Dice is the plural form of the word die. According to dictionary.com dice are "small cubes of plastic, ivory, bone, or wood, marked on each side with one to six spots, usually used in pairs in games of chance or in gambling." Bone or wood? You read that right. Bone. Playing with dice is the oldest form of gaming known to mankind. There are several different types of games that have been played. Some have continued down through the ages while others have disappeared. Just as there are many different types of games there are also different many different shapes of dice. Most people know the eight sided dice. 
[image error] The world's oldest d20 die
@http://www.metmuseum.org/Collections/...
The world's oldest d20 die, which is 20 sided die known as a Polyhedra, has been discovered in the collection of the Metropolitan Museum of Art last month. The die dates to the Ptolemaic Period of Ancient Egypt somewhere between 304 to 30 BC. It was purchased by Reverend Chauncey Murch between 1883 and 1907 while he was a missionary in Egypt. Reverend Murch died in 1907. In 1910, the Metropolitan Museum of Art purchased this die in a collection from the Murch family. It is not on public display. The ancient die's height measures at 3.2 x L: 3.8 x W: 3.4 cm (1 1/4 x 1 1/2 x 1 5/16 in.) and  is made out of serpentine. Each of the twenty sides is inscribed with a letter from one of the first 20 letters of the Greek alphabet. It is in remarkable shape for its age. Scholars don't know yet what the die was used for. Polyhedra dice were known to be used by the Romans.
[image error] Ancient Roman polyhedra from 2nd century BC
@http://www.christies.com/Lotfinder/lo... the discovery of the Egyptian polyhedra was made last month, the oldest known die was believed to be a glass die from the 2nd century. In 2008, Christie's, a well known fine arts auction house, auctioned off the glass Roman die for $17, 925. The die had been owned by a Maryland Fine Arts professor and had been purchased in 1920 Egypt but his father. Inscribed on each side are Roman symbols. Like it's Egyptian predecessor, modern scholars do not know what the die was used for.  
An Ancient Dice Game
The ancient societies of China, India, Egypt, Greece and Rome all played a variant of the dice game, Backgammon. From these societies, the game spread throughout the world. Backgammon has enjoyed a long history of popularity. It has been known by various names and had been played in a wide variety of forms. Known as "The King of Games" because some societies only allowed the aristocrats or ruling classes to play the game, it has survived for over 5,000 years.  
But where did this game originate?
In 2004, Iranian archeologists working on a large Bronze Age site known as Shahr-e Sukhteh (Burnt City) discovered a 5,000 year old backgammon board and dice. Shahr-e Sukhteh was one of the largest cities in the Bronze Age and associated with the Jiroft culture. You can learn more about the Jirot on YouTube at:




Shahr-e Sukhteh appeared around 3200 BC and had four stages of civilizations. The city grew so large it was considered one of the major cities at the dawn of the urban era. It contains 5,000 to 40,000 ancient graves on the Western end of the site. Shahr-e Sukhteh's population was between 5,000 to 6,000 people. Men tended to live to be between 35-45 years of age while women often lived well into their 80s.  The female population outnumber the males.  Shahr-e Sukhteh was burnt down three times before it was abandoned. You learn more about this interesting city including about the artificial eye that was discovered in December of 2006 at http://www.payvand.com/news/10/aug/1084.html


"The backgammon reveals intriguing clues to the lifestyle of those people. The board is rectangular and made of ebony, which did not grow in Sistan and merchants used to import it from India. The 60 pieces were also unearthed inside a terracotta vessel beside the board. They were made of common stones quarried in the city, including agate and turquoise," Mansour Sajjadi, head of the research team explained in an interview with Payvand Iran News in 2004. The discovery of the backgammon set and dice show that the game was in existence 100-200 years before the Mesopotamians were playing the game.

Below is a picture of the dice that were discovered at  Shahr-e Sukhteh: 
[image error] World's oldest die @http://www.payvand.com/news/10/aug/10...
The dice were found with a backgammon set, caraway seeds and numerous metallurgical items. 

CWA: Spanish Delights

You awaken suddenly, thrusting your body upright in your bed, gasping. Your hands cling to the sheets. Whatever had happened to you hadn't been real. Or was it? This cruise ship was anything but ordinary. You had seen it cross time and space. The ship had flown in the air, dry docked and was still able to move. Could it be that it had crossed your soul into a different dimension without your body?
Ridiculous. "Good morning everyone. I hope you enjoyed your visit last night," Tasha voice comes over the loudspeaker. You stare up at the speaker with wonder. So it was true! How in the world did she do that? You slowly look to your left. Sitting perfectly on upright tray holder was a silver tray with a silver serving set. You fling the sheets off your body, rise from your bed and quickly examine the perfect set. You lift the lids off the dishes to reveal a bountiful meal of your favorite breakfast foods served on elegant china with your initials on them etches in gold with your favorite designs around the edge of the dish "Some of you may already discovered your breakfast. Each setting has been personally been made for you. After you finish your meal please leave the dishes for the crew to wash. They will be returned to your room with the complete set. There are more than this to your twenty piece gold etched, set of china. The glasses are genuine crystal. They are gift from our tour guide today. Welcome to Spain, everyone. You have two hours before we disembark." The speaker goes silent as you continue to stare at the elaborate gift. This couldn't be real. 

[image error] Seville in 2D by Alexander Savin
@http://www.flickr.com/photos/karismaf...



“Bonsoir, mesdames et messieurs.” I spoke quietly to the group of people who were gathered at the dock of a great ship. As crew-members and porters hurried past with luggage and other supplies, I stepped nervously away from the harbor and looked over the heads of the gathered crowd to the rising edifices of a city I had left behind nearly five centuries previous. It would be different now from the city which remained in my memories, but I was fairly certain that I could take this group of people unerringly down the same streets I had once walked with the man who, even after all this time, still held my heart in his sun-baked hands. Such confidence was good, for that was what I aimed to do tonight – I wanted to give these gentle people a brief tour of Seville, Spain, where I first fell in love with Javier Estas.
I took a deep breath of the orange-scented air. “I am Keith D’Ameron, ladies and gentlemen, and I am leading you on a brief tour of the city in which I met the man who has shared more of my life over the past long while than I could ever have believed would happen. This entrance here into the city is the one he used, towards the end of the story in which we met, but I will show you the main gate, where I came into the city for the first time, in a moment. The gates here are called postigos, and each one has a name. This one was the postigo de la Feria – but come this way.”  I led the group through the winding lanes of the city, enjoying the chance to see the city as I had once known it through the glimpses of the past which still lurked in every corner. Pausing at a beautiful garden entrance, a melancholy smile touched my lips. I turned to the crowd. “This garden was not here when I visited," I remarked softly. 
“But it is very apt indeed to find it here.”
“What was here, Mr. D’Ameron?” a young woman asked, tucking a curl of her hair back behind her ear.
I smiled. “There was a house here, once.  A very special man and his wife lived here. They had a beautiful stable and they produced many fine horses.”  I didn’t know if any of that was true, of course; Javier did not like to speak of the time he had spent here in Seville.  Indeed, I had not even told him I would be coming here, so sensitive still was the subject of what had happened to his wife.
“Who were they?” someone else asked.
I chuckled. “Javier Estas and his wife, Ofelia Estas, lived here once upon a time.  Their house stood right back there, where that pavilion stands now. It – the house - burned down in an … accident a long time ago.”  I turned away from the garden and strode down the lane towards the tree-filled square where, long ago, swords had clashed on the same summer night on which I had lost my heart to the fiery green eyes of my Spanish warrior. As it was with the rest of the city, my memories of how the square had been on the night of that duel conflicted with the vision setting itself before me now, but I raised my head and smiled at the sight of the great Cathedral and its clock which still loomed above us. I turned my head eastward. “Right over there, ladies and gentlemen, is the site of the tavern in which I would meet, for the first time, the man who stole my heart the last time I was here.”
Some laughter scattered its way through the crowd. “You met him in a tavern?” someone asked incredulously.
I spread my hands in a Gallic shrug. “Times were different then. Taverns were more than dives in which one merely pickled one’s liver.” I turned and pointed down a winding lane which led to a more residential area of the city. “That is where I lived while I was here, down that street. I imagine the house is gone now, though, but I will take you there if you like.”
“But what happened to Javier and Ofelia?” another young woman asked.
I smiled. “Our story is told in our novel, Undisclosed Desires. If you wish to find out, I have these cards for you to take with you.” One by one, I moved through the crowd, handing out the business cards which read on one side:
Undisclosed Desires by M. Peters, available on Kindle: http://www.amazon.com/Undisclosed-Desire-ebook/dp/B008EEAM2K/ref=la_B008HF2O4U_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1341757324&sr=1-2and in print: https://www.createspace.com/3916843

On the other side was this:  [image error]
I smiled at the people inspecting the cards. “Now, if you’ll follow me, I’ll take you on a further tour of the city – unless you would rather return to the ship and begin reading on your own?  Thank you for coming along tonight. All of us hope we shall come to know you better through the telling of our story, but I thank you especially for letting me get to know you tonight.”

Who Is M. Peters?
[image error] M. Peters has been writing stories since she was a little girl. Since she met her fiancée in 1999, they have truly begun to come to life. Undisclosed Desires is her first published work, though she has been editing novels for up-and-coming authors across a wide spectrum of genres for the last eight years. She and her fiancée, who were high-school sweethearts, live in Florida with their two cats. She has recently entered the world of Twitter, and can be followed here while she works on her newest novel: https://twitter.com/MPetersDesires, or like her on Facebook, to read snippets of her upcoming novel here: https://www.facebook.com/MPeters2183
Her website is available here, where you can link up with Amazon to buy her first book as well as read excerpts from her newest works in progress! http://mo8832.wix.com/undiscloseddesires#!home/mainPage
Authorgraphs are ALSO available here, updated to reflect only the need for an EMAIL address instead of a Twitter account! Check it out: http://www.authorgraph.com/authors/MPetersDesires
Win a copy of M Peter's book. Just leave her comment below to enter. 

LID: The Homeless in America

December 3 National Roof Over Your Head Day


[image error] Cove Fort Roof by ricketyus
@http://www.fotopedia.com/items/flickr...
Happy National Roof Over Your Head Day! 
National Roof Over Your Head Day is a day where we give thanks for having a roof over our heads and remember those who do not. 
Homelessness is a worldwide epidemic that affects people from all walks of life. There are many causes  for homelessness. Here are some interesting facts about the homeless in the United States taken from the National Alliance to End Homelessness 2012 report called The State of Homelessness in America. 


United States Homeless
Homelessness is on a decline. In 2009 there were  643,067 homeless. That number dropped to 636,017 in 2011 despite the economical hardship the United States was facing. Between 2009 -2011, the homeless veteran population decreased from 31 for every 10,000 veteran in the general population to 21 for every 10,000 veteran in the general population.  Chronic homelessness has decreased by 13% from 2007. This decrease is due to an increase in permanent supportive housing beds. Permanent supportive housing beds helps end homelessness by offer the homeless an place to go to get back on their feet. The number of these beds has increased from 88,636 in 2007 to 266,968 in 2011.The unsheltered homeless sub population has increased from 239,759 in 2009 to 243,701 in 2011. Unsheltered homeless are those who were not counted in the permanent supportive housing beds.  Nationally the homeless population has decreased yet 24 states and the District of Columbia have seen an increase from 2009. Some people are taking in friends and family who are experiencing financial hardships. Known as "doubling up", this practice places elevate the risk of homelessness. Doubling up is on the rise. Others at elevated risk for homelessness include discharged prisoners and youth who have aged out of the foster care system. You can learn more about the homeless in America by visiting The National Alliance to End Homelessness http://www.endhomelessness.org
Helping the Homeless?
Homelessness is not a new issue for the United States but it didn't become a national problem until after the Civil War. The Bloodiest War left many orphans, widows and a larger homeless population than our country had ever seen before. In response to the great need many organizations tried to help those who were suffering. The very first American homeless rescue mission was opened in New York City in 1872 but it wasn't until the Great Depression that the United States saw an increase in services being provided to the homeless. Today there are 3,344 homeless shelters and organizations that help the homeless across the United States. A majority of the homeless live in the larger cities. From shelters to soup kitchens, volunteers are almost always needed.  You can learn more about how to become involved by visiting this link: http://www.homelessshelterdirectory.org 

LID: Fritters Around the World

[image error]  Apple Fritter by Aaron Gustafons
@http://www.flickr.com/photos/aarongus...



December 2nd
National Fritter Day!



Happy National Fritter Day! 
What in the world is a fritter? I'm glad you asked that question. According to dictionary.com a fritter is "a small cake of batter, sometimes containing corn, fruit, clams, or some other ingredient, fried in deep fat or sautéed." Sounds delicious, doesn't it? 
What's in a Name?
 The term fritter was first used between 1350 to 1400 AD. It is derived from the Latin word frictura or frictus which is the past participle of frigere. Frigere means to roast. The Middle English changed the word to fritour while the Anglo-French converted the word to friture. It eventually evolved to the word fritter.
Fritters are known throughout the world yet not everyone calls them fritters. Get our your suitcase and cooking supplies as we take a trip around the world.
Great  Britain

[image error] The Union Jack by geishaboy500
@http://www.fotopedia.com/items/flickr...Region/ Name/ LinkMerseyside  - Scallops  North East of England - Scones -  http://www.kingarthurflour.com/recipes/scones-recipeNorth Lancashire - Batch Cakes

And here are some links to traditional English Fritter recipes:

http://theenglishkitchen.blogspot.com/2010/10/fruit-fritters.html

http://www.celtnet.org.uk/recipes/miscellaneous/fetch-recipe.php?rid=misc-apple-fritters

A 15th century English Fritter recipe:

 http://www.celtnet.org.uk/recipes/miscellaneous/fetch-recipe.php?rid=misc-apple-fritters


Spain

[image error]

In Spain, Fritters are called Bunuelos. The origins of Fritters in Spain can be traced back to the Arabs who had settled in the country starting in 711 AD.  You can read more about the Arab history of Spain at this website:
 http://www.villa.spain-property-costa-blanca.com/archives/2003/12/03/the-history-of-arabs-in-spain/

When the Spanish colonized the New World they brought the recipe and tradition of eating Bunuelos with them. The recipe spread throughout South and Central America resulting in a wide variety of Bunuelos recipes throughout the region.

Here are just a few variants of the recipe:

Mexico: http://www.food.com/recipe/mexican-bunuelos-134270

Colombia: http://southamericanfood.about.com/od/holidayrecipes/r/bunuelos.htm

Spain: http://www.donquijote.org/culture/spain/society/food/bunuelos-de-viento.asp

Costa Rica: http://www.honey.com/recipes/detail/17/costa-rican-plantain-buñuelos


Germany
[image error]
In Germany, Fritters are called by different names depending on the type they are.

Here are some recipes:
http://deutshcessen.blogspot.com/2007/10/recipes-from-berlin-spritzkuchen.html

http://allrecipes.co.uk/recipe/17338/german-apple-fritters.aspx

Here's a video in German that teaches you how to make Potato Fritters. It has English subtitles.



SOUTH EAST ASIA

[image error]

Eleven countries make up the area known as Southeast Asia.  These countries are shown on the map above from wikipedia. Fritters are know by several different names depending on the country you are visiting. Below are some links to traditional Southeast Asian Fritters. 
Cambodia: http://jsmatthew.hubpages.com/hub/How-To-Make-Asian-Sesame-Banana-Fritters-At-Home
Indonesia:Known as bakwan sayurhttp://www.indochinekitchen.com/recipes/vegetable-fritter/

Philippines:
Known as Maruyang Saginghttp://www.filipino-food-recipes.com/maruyarecipe.html

Thailand:
http://www.seriouseats.com/2012/09/my-thai-thai-corn-fritters-tod-man-khao-pod.html

Caribbean
[image error]

The Caribbean is a group of several groups of islands. Like Southeast Asia, each country has a different name and recipe for Fritters. Here are just a few.

Cuba:
Known as Frituras de Maiz tierno. (Corn Fritters)http://www.tasteofcuba.com/cornfritters.html
Haiti:Known as Beyens (Banana Fritters)http://www.bakespace.com/recipes/detail/Beyens-or-Haitian-Banana-Fritters/34390/
Jamaica:
http://www.jamaicatravelandculture.com/food_and_drink/saltfish-fritters.htm
Puerto Rico:
Known as Alcapurrias
http://www.ricanrecipes.com/recipes/detail.php?category_id=12&id=56


Africa [image error]
Congo:http://www.congocookbook.com/snack_recipes/fritters.html
South Africa:Known as  Pampoenkoekyhttp://www.joyofkosher.com/recipe/south-african-pumpkin-fritters/
West Africa:Known as Akarahttp://themessyepicure.com/2010/09/19/black-eyed-pea-fritters-akara/
All Over Africa:http://www.africa.upenn.edu/Cookbook/Starch.html

India
[image error] Young India by Yogendra
@http://www.flickr.com/photos/yogendra...

India has different names for Fritters depending on the type of Fritter that is made. Here are just a few. 
Pakora:http://www.whats4eats.com/appetizers/pakora-recipe
Bhajia:http://www.bigoven.com/recipe/163232/bhajia-indian-vegetable-fritters
Jalebi:http://www.manjulaskitchen.com/2009/11/03/apple-jalebi-apple-fritters/
Masala Vada:http://www.phamfatale.com/id_1311/title_Masala-Vada-Recipe-Indian-Urad-Dal-Fritters/

United States
[image error] American Flag by uhuru1701
@http://www.flickr.com/photos/uhuru170...
Our last stop on this Fritter Around the World tour ends in the United States of America. Fritters are more popular in the Southern ares of the country than the north. Here are a few Fritter recipes including one from Hawaii. 
Hawaiian Pineapple Fritter:http://archives.starbulletin.com/2003/06/04/features/index5.html
Pennsylvania Dutch Corn Fritters:http://philadelphia.about.com/gi/dynamic/offsite.htm?zi=1/XJ/Ya&sdn=philadelphia&cdn=citiestowns&tm=21&f=00&su=p1042.5.175.ip_&tt=14&bt=0&bts=1&zu=http%3A//www.recipesource.com/baked-goods/breads/02/rec0251.html
Sweet Potato Fritters:http://www.aviewofamerica.com/recipe/sweet-potato-fritters
American Apple Fritters:http://www.seriouseats.com/recipes/2011/10/apple-fritters-fried-sweets-fall.html

Well that concludes our International salute to the Fritter. I hope you enjoyed the recipes.  Which one is your favorite? 

CWA: Stranger Things Have Happened

A thick blue mists surrounds the cruise ship as it sails through the unknown. You sit on the edge of your bed reflecting upon the last visit you made. A talking wolf? You would have never imagined you would have been talking to a wolf and it had talked back to you as if it was some kind of human. This tour was getting stranger with each stop. A wave of exhaustion consumes you. You get up from your bed, pull down the blankets and snuggled in your warm bed.
 You had had a long day. It had been late in the night by the time you had all arrived back to the ship. Tasha and Dalton has told everyone to go to bed. They even suggested that you all might want to sleep in the following morning. That had been a change for all of you. Every morning you had been expected to rise at 6:30. Breakfast was always served at 7am. When someone asked about breakfast Dalton has said your breakfast would be served to your room. That was odd. But you weren't going to complain. Breakfast in bed sounded delightful!
You pull the blankets over your body, snuggled deeper in the bed and close your eyes. Gently, ever so gently, you drift into a deep slumber. Ever so deep. You lose time and place. It had been awhile since you had sleep this soundly. Your military instincts try to kick in to warn you something was wrong. Could you be inhaling an odorless and colorless gas that is making you sleep this deep? What was Tasha and Dalton doing to all of you. But you let it slide. All you want to do is sleep. 

[image error] Dream! by Melody Campbell
@http://www.flickr.com/photos/melodyca...
The man in the car with me is skittish as we drive around the streets and back roads of a Sawmill. He introduced himself. “Bill Schuler,”Bill Schuler was forty-five, short, stocky, and over his lip a moustache grew. His face was sun-darkened and his eyes sunken into deep shelves with dark circles beneath; they made him look much older than his years. Jacob was younger. He was thin, more meaty than scrawny, and light-complexioned. He wore black plastic-rimmed glasses and a five o’clock shadow. His eyelids fluttered constantly and his left eye wandered.           Taking one hand off the wheel I gave him a firm quick shake. “Jacob Hirsch.” I didn’t take my eyes off the road as my 67 Camaro rumbled through the narrow streets. As a reporter in an unfamiliar setting, I wanted to listen to my source while making sure I didn’t run off the road.           “I heard this story once.  It scared the hell out of me,” Bill said. “I didn’t want to believe it at first. I shrugged it off as an urban legend. But the longer I lived here, the more I believed there were strange things about this town.”           “So what is the story? And what good is it going to do me?” I asked.           “Are you sure my name won’t be mentioned?” Bill asked.            “I never give up my sources, Bill.”
           “Even if your life was threatened? If your family was threatened?”           “Uh.”  I stuttered as  the car took the sharp s-curve coming into town just a little too fast. The back tire hit the shoulder and the car began to kick into a spin before I was able to correct it. “Trust me. I’m looking for a damn good story. Your name is safe. Now, why is it you chose me?”           “Well, I read your article last fall. The one you did on the Stonebridge Auto Club.   I heard you created a lot of talk over that. I heard someone broke your arms over that story.
“Yes, my arms were broken. However, they never got the name of my source. Things changed after that and there was no more trouble for me. The things I wrote about were true; I work in facts and I do check out my sources. So, whatever you have to tell, be sure you give me all the facts.”            I slowed the car and turned into the gravel lot at Keller’s General Store.             “Can we drive on?” Bill asked. “I don’t want anyone seeing me with a stranger.”

After a few seconds,  I said, “You brought me here. Where do you want to go?”
            Bill tapped on his knee, nervously looking to see if anyone was around. “Turn left out onto Main Street.”
           I obliged and put the Camaro in reverse. I eased onto Main and headed east toward the railroad tracks. It was quiet in the car, quiet enough to hear the loping of the engine’s cam.
            The town of Sawmill wasn’t much. You had Keller’s, the only store and gas stop. Up the street from there was Braun’s Café; directly across the tracks was O’Leary’s bar. A bank, the Methodist church, a library, and the public grade school summed up Sawmill. It seemed the town was as big as the locals wished it to be and no more.
           Two teenage boys covered in dust stood near the store, one drinking a Coke and the other filling the tire on his bike.
           “Why do you do it?” Bill asked.
“What? Write what I do?”
“Sure.”            “For the glory, I guess. I don’t want to be your typical news reporter. I want to write about things that are different. I want to get a job with a larger paper, like The New York Times, or The L.A Times, or The Dispatch in Saint Louis. My style of writing informs as well as entertains.”
            “Well, what I have to say will entertain some, sicken others, and just maybe save a life or two. And then others may never believe it. See the water tower over there?”
            I nodded. “Yes.”
            “See that line of trees on the hill? The hill and those trees span for a hundred miles in either direction.  Around here, it is known as The Ridge, or Hickory Ridge to some.  Eighty percent of the trees up there are one kind of hickory or another. Beyond the ridge is farmland, Wolf Creek, and the canal. Between the creek and canal is thick woods and marshland. Take a right just across the track.”
            I  took a right and another quick right when Bill motioned for him to do so.
            “Make note of the roads I take you down. Map them in your mind. This part is very important. Now for the story. I moved here in ‘65; and I soon learned I was an outsider in a small town where most everyone can trace their ancestors back to the ones who settled here. The people around here don’t care much for outsiders.”
            “So why did they let you move in?”
            “They can’t stop it. It would draw too much attention. They’d just as soon make you uncomfortable until you pack up and leave. Or scare the shit out of you and hope you’ll get out of town fast. Anyway, I purchased a hundred acres and a home, known around here as Connolly Manor. The house and property had been sitting empty for quite some time and I responded to an ad in The Stonebridge Times. A Jerome Connolly sold it to me. He was a young man, barely eighteen, and said he inherited it.  He had no interest in living here; he wanted the money to put himself through college.  The place needed lots of work, but I didn’t care. I loved it. I was a young lawyer with a wife and a child on the way. I knew I wanted to get my family out of the filthy city and into a serene and safe place. It did not take long for me to realize we were not welcome.”
            “So what happened?”
           “Oh, the people here will talk to you. They will help a passing stranger. Move here, though, and they will just as soon snub you.”
            “Sounds like the typical small town to me.”
            “But Sawmill is different. You’ll see what I mean. You get to snooping and they will clam up. Yeah, a few will give up a little. But those few have been brainwashed and will lead you in the direction this town wants. That is, to a dead end.”
           “You’re saying they will lie to avoid any snoopers. Sounds like you might have something. I like a challenge.”            Bill hesitated for a moment, glancing behind and to the side as if he were worried about being followed. “This town was settled mainly by Irish and German workers, who came to build the canal. These people are tight, a brotherhood where men are men and women know their place.”
[image error]

           OBTUSE is due to be re-released winter of 2013
Who is B.E.  Schäfer?
[image error] B.E. Schäfer is the pen name of Blake Schaefer.He has had a long interest in writing and has had a deep love of horror and sci-fi.  After reading his first Stephen King novel at the age of twelve, he was hooked.  At the age of 15 he was introduced to many other types of fiction and non-fiction books by a teacher of his.  He notes many influences in his life including King, Koontz, Steinbeck, Faulkner, Rice Bradbury and many more.
He grew up and was educated in Southern Indiana.  He has lived in Illinois and the St. Louis Metro area.  He now resides in Indiana with his wife, seven children, a dog and a cat.
He is the author of the Novels SIX TOES, SIX TOES BOOK II THE LEGACY, and OBTUSE-Due to be re-released winter of 2013.
He is also written the Screenplay: OBTUSE coming soon to film.
Visit him at: http://www.b-e-schafer-books.com/  all books are available on Amazon.com and at Barnes and Noble.

LID: An #Apple A Day.....makes great #history.

[image error] APPLE by Eye of Einstein
@http://www.flickr.com/photos/35188692...

December 1st:
Eat A Red Apple Day






We've all heard it. An apple a day keeps the doctor away. But did you know that December 1st is National Eat A Red Apple Day? It's easy to participate in today's holiday. Just eat a red apple. Red apples can be found almost any grocery store. There are many different kinds of apples in the world, each with their own unique tastes. Some are great for cooking while other are delicious by themselves. I have found this page to be a wonderful explanation to the different kinds of apples out there. http://www.pickyourown.org/apples.htm With so many different varieties to chose from it should be easy to eat a red apple today. 

In the beginning....there was the apple
[image error] Adam & Eve Painting in a Pub located in Lincoln, England
by Lincolnian @ http://www.flickr.com/photos/lincolni... have been around since the beginning of time. Henry David Thoreau had once written, “It is remarkable how closely the history of the apple tree is connected with that of man.” His words ring truth when you consider how much of our history and lore is intertwined with the apple. According to Christian mythology, apples were plentiful in the Garden of Eden. It was the fruit that Adam and Eve had eaten from the forbidden tree. Thus it has been forever labeled as the "forbidden fruit."
Archaeologists have located carbonized apple remains in a few prehistoric lakes in Switzerland that prove humans were eating apples as early as the Stone Age. In Jericho and   Jordan archaeologists have located remains of apples in their excavations. The carbon date for these remains came back showing they were from 6500 B.C. Apple slices have been excavated from an ancient Mesopotamian tomb located in Southern Iran dated from 2500 B.C. Aside from excavations there is strong cultural evidence to prove the history of apples and mankind has been intertwined throughout history. Many historians and archaeologists believe the apple tree is the oldest cultivated fruit tree. Despite this, we do not know the exact location of the first cultivated apple tree. Archaeologists continue their search for this magnificent discovery. 
Culturally the apple has been known and portrayed in human lore since ancient times. Apples were considered very valuable the Greeks of 7th century and was the sacred fruit of the love goddess Aphrodite. If a man wanted to propose to a woman he would throw an apple to her. If she caught it then she accepted his proposal. On their wedding night it was customary of the day for the bride and groom to share an apple. Plato had once said "I throw the apple at you, and if you are willing to love me, take it and share your girlhood with me; but if your thoughts are what I pray they are not, even then take it, and consider how short-lived is beauty."
In ancient Israel, the apple tree was hard to cultivate due to the harsh, dry climate yet the Hebrews knew about them. King Solomon sung about them in his book Song of Solomon."Stay me with flagons, comfort me with apples: for I am sick of love." -- Song of Solomon 2:5
The Romans also cultivated apples and are generally accredited with perfecting the cultivation of apple trees. They invented the technique of grafting, which is still used today.  You can watch this video to learn more about grafting. 

In 55 BC Romans discovered the ancient Britons drinking a liquid called apple cider. During the Roman occupation of England the Romans brought their own apple orchards and sweeter variants to England. Up until this time there were 37 different apple variants but with the mixing of British and Roman apple trees new varieties were produced. 
Cultivation of the apple tree continued to increase and new varieties were being added until the Black Death. In 1533, apple cultivation was saved when Richard Harris, a fruitier for King Henry VIII, brought apple trees from France to England. Mankind's history with the apple has been influenced and has influenced some of our greatest myths and lore. For more on history and legends of the apple you may wish to visit this site: http://www.squidoo.com/apples-mythology

As American as Apple Pie?
Oh, the Lord is good meAnd so I thank the lordFor giving me the things I needThe sun and the rainAnd the appleseedOh, the lord is good to me!
That little ditty is the Johnny Appleseed grace I learned to sing as a child. Mind you I grew up in Ohio. Apple country to the core!
The apple pie may be American but the apples certainly aren't. The only apple indigenous to North America is the crab apple. The crab apple is commonly planted in between apple trees to help with cross pollination. The oldest apple tree in America arrived in New Amsterdam with Governor Peter Stuyvesant, who planted it in his Manhattan Garden. 219 years later it was still bearing fruit. Unfortunately, this American legend was destroyed by a derailed train in 1866. 
The American Midwest apple orchards are a byproduct of Johnny Appleseed. You can read more about him here http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Johnny_Appleseed Over 2000 apple tree cultivators are listed in America. They would not be in existence without Johnny bringing the apple to the American Midwest. 
Just the facts, make Did you know? 
1) Eating apple helps with preventing tooth decay. The chewing action stimulates saliva production which in turn lowers bacteria levels that cause tooth decay.
2)Drinking apple juice helps fights the effects of aging on the brain and may prevent Alzheimer's disease.
3)Decrease your chance of Diabetes. Women who eat apples daily are 28% less likely to develop type 2 Diabetes than those who don't. Why? Scientists have found apples contain a large amount of soluble fibre, the key to blunting blood sugar swings.
4)Apples reduce cholesterol levels.The soluble fibre found in apples attaches itself to fats in the intestine.
5)Apples can cure diarehha and constipation.The fibre in apples can pull water out of your colon or absorb the excess water from your stool. 
You can learn more about the benefits of eating apples at: http://www.besthealthmag.ca/eat-well/nutrition/15-health-benefits-of-eating-apples
and
http://www.mnn.com/food/healthy-eating/stories/10-reasons-to-eat-an-apple-a-day

Lost in December

[image error] @http://pixabay.com/static/uploads/pho...

It's that time of year again. December, the last month. It's that bumper month between Thanksgiving and New Years filled with expectations of Christmas. The holiday shopping season is in full swing, long started before Cyber Monday or Black Friday. There are Christmas cards to be mail, presents to buy, charities to give to and family gatherings to attend. We're lost somewhere between this past year and the new one that is about to begin. 
DECEMBER!
Have no fear! Allison is here to the rescue. 
This month in between my Crusin with Allison Tour, my present to you is a fun filled blog experience bringing you weird and interesting, fun filled facts about this crazy, hectic month we call December. Be on the lookout for holiday customs from around the world, bizarre December holidays and other tidbits of little known December happenings. 
You won't want to miss this. 
So stayed tuned daily for your December feast of literary abandonment. 

All the Lost in December posts will have LID before the title. The Cruisin' with Allison stops are still labelled with CWD. 

CWA: Having A Howling Of A Good Time With A #Wolf.

The howl of something mysterious echoes in the wide evening sky above you. Lost in the middle of the forest with the other cruise participants, Tasha and Dalton; you not to certain what to expect. You had secretly arrived to this location via the ship's transporter. Once again, you had gone to bed and awoke to find yourself dressed and somewhere you don't recall being before. This morning you went on a long hike with Tasha and some of the others. The deep forest and large mountains teased you into thinking you were still in Colorado. You had asked Tasha about it but she only told you that you were nowhere near Colorado or civilization. You had been thrust into the wild. The soldiers that surrounded the area were only there to protect you and the others. Protect you from what?
The howling grows closer. You skin crawls with anticipation of an attack. The warrior in you beckons to be alert. Anything could happen. You can't trust anyone on this cruise. Hadn't you been subjected to time travel, vampires, a talking cat, magic and other odd circumstances? What's next a talking wolf?


[image error] Wold in New Mexico by SiSter PhotograPer
@http://www.flickr.com/photos/chasingm...
Hello. My name is Convel and I…am a wolf. The place you will be getting to know is far from the human cities, or what remains of them. You will need to tread carefully, though of course the pack will be able to hear you. As long as you stay at my side and don’t touch anything, you will be fine.
*Convel growled gently, his tail wagging only slightly before he headed down the side of a cliff into an immense chasm. Over one half of the chasm was filled with thickly leafed trees, though the wolf led the reader down into the more open side of the chasm. Steps had to be taken carefully before they stepped onto flat, snow-covered ground.*
This is where we live. The forest is where we hunt, and we have two dens we sleep in. The smaller one is here, and if you look to the side you can see a frozen pool of water that we use to drink from when we are here. This is the space that we play in most the time. You need to watch your footing though, the snow is deep and in places there are a lot of ice-patches.
*Without hesitating, the black male wolf headed towards the largest opening and stuck his head inside as though testing it was safe for the person he was leading about. With a slow nod, he clearly judged it safe before stepping aside to reveal the murky insides, the walls around at head-height and even taller marked with faint claw marks far beyond anything a wolf could make.*
This was our first den, and little did we know that it had been home to something far deadlier…but I believe a certain Author will have my fur. If you’ll follow me now, we’ll head into the forest now. Watch above you though- cougars are a bit of a pest around here. They tend to spring from above us. The snow in the forest is deeper, darker than you will be used to so keep me in sight or else you may find yourself lost.
[image error] *Convel partly disappeared into the shadows as he walked, though he was courteous enough to head back and check on the reader before urging them on silently. They came across various clearings with scuffled snow, but the wolf didn’t hesitate there until it came to the stream, where he drank. His tail wagged lightly before he lifted his head and wagged his tail. He leaped at the reader, pushing them into the snow as a golden frame soars into the air and then takes off following his furious growl.*
I’m afraid that it’s not safe for you to go any further into the territory. If you want to head back, I’ll go get the pack and make sure that that cat is punished for attacking a guest. Thanks for joining us today.
[image error] Dominique Goodall is the author of Echoes of Winter, available on December the 11th. Echoes of Winter is the first book in the Seasons of the Wolf series - just proving the author to be a self-confessed wolf addict. She has currently been published in two anthologies by Crushing Hearts and Black Butterfly Publishing and is currently working on getting herself better known by sending in manuscripts for as many different anthologies as she possibly can.
As much as she loves to admit it, she never will be able to count her wolf stuff- there’s nothing left for her to be truly able to collect without her own home.
She can be friended on Facebook here: https://www.facebook.com/WaterSingerHer author page on Facebook is here: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Dominique-Goodall-author/250907358312446The page for Echoes of Winter is here: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Echoes-of-Winter/355235744499607Her twitter name is: https://twitter.com/#!/DomGoodallAnd her blog can be found here: http://dominiquegoodall.wordpress.com/And the trailer for her book is here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Kix63EXBW50&feature=plcp