Children may be awesome and scary to this direct but simple eight-feet reptile animal. After the fuel battery is activated by the salted water, the metal magnesium plate (3PCS) can successively provide the spider with 4-6 hours of power. Do to it is too real-like, the player may stop it during the time of playing. You can simply remove the fuel battery module and just clean it with running water, hang and dried it. All the material applied on this toy are environment-friendly, safe and clean. There is no any other toxic substance or waste. It won’t produce heat as well, which makes it absolutely safe for the children.
Unfortunately my picture of the side of the box was out of focus, so I can’t show you what it said. I’m sure it was hilarious.
According to the Chinese zodiac, most of 2015 is the year of the 羊. The word 羊 (‘yáng’) can refer to both sheep and goats, hence the confusion over what to call this zodiac year in English (sheep/goat/ram). Wikipedia kindly informs me that the most accurate translation of ‘yáng’ would be Caprinae, a Latin word corresponding to the biological subfamily that encompasses sheep and goats.
Therefore, I wish you a happy year of the Caprinae.
I just read Little (Grrl) Lost by Charles de Lint. My paperback has a shiny, metallic bluish cover depicting the character Elizabeth, who looks spunky. I went to put the book back on the shelf and look for another to attack next and discovered another Charles de Lint book. Also blue. Also depicting a spunky teenage girl. Titled The Blue Girl. For a moment I thought the publisher had perhaps retitled the work for the paperback edition, and that thus I unknowingly had bought two copies of the same book.
But no. Apparently Charles de Lint has written two entirely different blue-themed books featuring two entirely different spunky teenage girls. That’s a relief.
Kudos to Scott Fischer for the cover of Little (Grrl) Lost and to Cliff Nielsen for the cover of The Blue Girl. I know Cliff’s name because of some excellent Madeleine L’Engle covers. May your revenue stream never run dry, Cliff.
For a while now, I’ve had two Robin Hood mass-market paperbacks on the same shelf (one by Roger Lancelyn Green and one by Howard Pyle). Just now my spreadsheet told me I also have one by Henry Gilbert that I bought in 2010. My copy of Green is from 2008 and Pyle must have been before July 2004. So I have three versions. Plus Robin McKinley’s Outlaws of Sherwood.
I also have three movie versions: Disney, Elwes and Flynn. And a 2006 TV series from the BBC!
Triple bonus points for the scene in which the gravity turns off! Titan A.E., a cartoon, is the only other sci-fi movie I’ve seen that has depicted the failure of artificial gravity.
The novel mix of sci-fi and comedy strained my willing suspension of disbelief, and I’m not sure I like the main character, Star Lord, but there was much to enjoy: the ensemble cast, the setting, the plot, and the expensive special effects.
A lot of the world-building that was showcased in the Blu-Ray special features could easily be overlooked in the movie itself, which felt fast-paced even though it clocked in at almost two hours.
I bought this copper-edged plaque at a craft show in Philadelphia when I was living in New Jersey. It’s a quote from Albert Camus that says:
I finally learned in the midst of the deepest winter that there was in me an invincible summer.
The plaque was made by Barbara Hinchey (who, it seems, in the time intervening has allowed to lapse her website www.barbarahinchey.com).
The illustration says ‘Kay Womrath’ in the corner. (I’m really glad my family name isn’t Womrath, aren’t you?) Google tells me the artist’s full name is Andrew Kay Womrath, and that the illustration was actually done for a poem by Keats, which some enterprising soul on Zazzle will sell to you displayed on a variety of objects. But that is neither here nor there.
I call your attention to this object because I am stuck—stuck, I tell you!—in the middle of the deepest summer. A summer of epic, George R.R. Martin proportions. Look, I’ve been in Singapore more than six years now, and it’s always summer here. Six years times three extra summers per year is, let’s see, eighteen extra summers.
I don’t have to look in me for summer; it’s all around. What I have to seek within me is, in fact, any kind of winter that isn’t caused by air conditioning equipment. Or a carefully scheduled airplane journey lasting six or more hours.
And so I give you a new version of the plaque, with apologies to Camus, Womrath, Hinchey, and anyone who is offended by the mere sight of the overused font called Papyrus or appalled by whatever meagre Photoshop skills I have managed to deploy.
Even though at one point I came to believe that the original plaque was being a bit smug at me, I now believe I have had the last laugh. This is what creativity is for. Don’t like something? Change it. Can’t change it? Joke about it and move on.