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Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
cherry valley forever
Xuebing Du
One Nice Bug Per Day
祝日 / Permanent Vacation
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Cosmic Funnies
Sade Olutola
JBB: An Artblog!
Game of Thrones Daily
if i look back, i am lost
Janaina Medeiros
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oozey mess
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
Not today Justin
Cosimo Galluzzi
Discoholic 🪩
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@matthewtapp
This song has been keeping my spirit alive the past week. Looking at my future and feeling like I have no idea where God is and where I should be; life has been hard. Rylee prayed for me the other day. And she told me the Lord wasn’t going to let me down. And I heard his Spirit promptly say, “I never have, and I never will.” Hallelujah God is near.
Did you know that on a typical day, 32 million children in the U.S. eat cafeteria food? Or that most of these students consume over half of their daily calories at school?
Facts like these motivate us to connect kids to real food, and teach them how to make healthy choices through our sweetgreen in schools program. School cafeterias are one of the biggest areas of opportunity that exist in the battle against childhood obesity. Recently there has been discussion about what constitutes a quality lunch, so we took a look at some typical school meals around the world, and how our own country stacks up.
Italy
Local fish on a bed of arugula, pasta with tomato sauce, caprese salad, baguette and some grapes
Finland
Pea soup, beet salad, carrot salad, bread and pannakkau (dessert pancake) with fresh berries
France
Steak, carrots, green beans, cheese and fresh fruit
Brazil
Pork with mixed veggies, black beans and rice, salad, bread and baked plantains
South Korea
Fish soup, tofu over rice, kimchi and fresh veggies
Greece
Baked chicken over orzo, stuffed grape leaves, tomato and cucumber salad, fresh oranges, and greek yogurt with pomegranate seeds
Ukraine
Mashed potatoes with sausage, borscht, cabbage and syrniki (a dessert pancake)
Spain
Sautéed shrimp over brown rice and vegetables, gazpacho, fresh peppers, bread and an orange
USA
Fried ‘popcorn’ chicken, mashed potatoes, peas, fruit cup and a chocolate chip cookie
Surprised at what you see above? You can help us make an impact and change the way future generations eat! Now until December 29th, purchase a local apple at any sweetgreen location, and we’ll donate the proceeds to FoodCorps to help connect kids to real food.
“Don’t ask what the world needs. Ask what makes you come alive, and go do it. Because what the world needs is people who have come alive.”
Howard Thurman
much concern. very tennis ball. many light.
Your dad was ironic before you and he’s going to hell to prove it.
Hot and cold
i wish i was here and not in my textbooks
#bugzthebeagle #beagle
Cute Chihuahua pup Audrey has herself some fun discovering and playing with bubbles!!
so damn cute
A song I used to listen to years ago. While reflecting on A Tale of Three Kings, I was reminded of these words and they hit home, as I am in a position of leadership.
The Golden(s) Hour
Brian Whipple
Misty mornings
id live here
Dude stew
Be human.
What disturbs me is the response.
Tragedy strikes and voices awake- sharing opinions, but not comfort.
Raw emotion is frightening but this is what death demands.
Refusing to comply, we birth debates and clamor and so our hearts can forget to feel.
No doubt, pertinent issues surround the tragedies. Issues that require discussion so we can avoid more tragedy. There is a time to address these issues. Its after mourning.
Stop talking. Just listen.
Heres to starting at it again.
The hands of time have traced their face many times since I last weaved words together.
To say "recently" would be inaccurate. A writer's yearning has been following me around for quite some time. Truth is, I've been negligent. Like a private eye, he would tail me. Watching me, waiting to report what I've been up to, what has been going on in my life- my heart. The metaphor ends there.
The consciousness may feel like another outside of me, following me, watching me. But it can not speak or interact with others, without my permission, because, well, it is me.
I've heard that you don't write because you want to, you write because you have to. Well I don't have to. That's not what my yearning is. I don't feel compelled to write- as if I'm going to combust or explode if I do not. If I had to, I imagine I would have by now. And I don't exactly want to. When I wrote often, I think want was the most convincing motivator. I wanted to be a writer. I wanted to write. I wanted to embrace the persona that came with it. I credit this want to those identity-discovering first two years of college. Nevertheless, my want to be a writing writer was not a complete stretch- I have an inclination towards it. I consider myself a writer. Its a part of who I am, my identity, but God did not cast me as "the writer." If He did, maybe I would have the compulsion for it.
I need to.
Not have to; the compulsion is not there. Not want to; the desire and appeal have evaporated. Need. Need is beckoning. Necessity is incessantly requesting that I give my hand(s) to stringing a sentence, that I stitch thoughts to paper, that I marry my finger tips to the letters on my laptop's keyboard.
And I want to give in, I do! For so long I have not written. But I need to. I need to write like I need to eat. I need to write to stay healthy. I neglected to write for this past year because there were many days of discontent. I need to write because, its as if I am gardening my soul- pulling weeds and planting seeds. I neglected to write because of the busyness and messiness of my life. Yet, I need to write in order to silence my brain's storm and organize my thoughts. I neglected to write because I was discouraged. I need to write to celebrate. When I go without writing, I quickly loose perspective and forget the precious days. I need to write to share stories of grace and love, to encourage my soul, and to make monuments of God's goodness that will outlast the bruises from life's day to day. That concludes this post. Here's to many more... *raises Starbucks cup into the air and tips the glass towards personified consciousness*
Attention fellow sunburned
There is now (and I guess probably was before, I just didn’t know it) aloe vera in a spray can.
No more rubbing lotion on a burn. No more hard-to-reach burned backs with gloopy aloe, sitting around waiting for it to dry.
Hallelujah.
(I got some from Target but I’m pretty sure most stores have some form of it.)
Praise!
Bangladesh: Innovative Floating School Improves Access to Education
The floating school works in the remote river basin where access to education is hard, particularly during the monsoon season. From late June to October one third of the country goes underwater, making access to basic services very difficult. “It is the main reason for school drop outs in rural Bangladesh” Mosammat said. Were it not for innovative inventions such as this floating school, many of these children would find accessing education impossible.
The school collects children from their homes, teaches them on board and returns them at the end of the session. Mosammat describes the boat’s architect’s philosophy as ”if the children couldn’t come to school, then the school should come to them”.
(via Bangladesh: Innovative solutions to improve education for the disadvantaged | World Education Blog)
Sneaking in Arizona Iced Tea
Sneaking in Arizona Iced Tea A Stagecoach Anecdote
The lady hardly checked our backpack. Moved the blanket to the side, squeezed the bag, and let us go. That was it. Day two came. We decided to smuggle our own drinks in. Bag-searchers were earnest today. Walking arm and arm with angst, we approached the moment of truth. The blanket was not unfolded, the sweater remained in the bag, our contents went undiscovered. And we savored every sip. Too easy. Confidence filled us on that last day. We did exactly as the day before. But they didn't. The border guard moved the sweater and caught sight of the top of a can. Her eyes met mine and she then preceded to pull the can out of the backpack. The label read: "Arizona Mucho Mango." She was dumbfounded. "Are you really trying to sneak in an Arizona?" "Are those not allowed?" I played stupid. Next, she went for the blanket. Rolled up, in the center, she saw the top of the other can. It was wedged too tightly to pull out without removing the entire blanket. "Is that really another Arizona?" "Yes, we don't drink and didn't want to pay $5 bucks for a lemonade." I tried honesty this time. Then she waved me by. We were free to go. I grabbed the backpack with its prohibited contents and proceeded into the festival.
Likely, she thought we were pathetic for sneaking in Arizona Tea while everyone else was stashing booze in their boots. Maybe it was refreshing to run across some more innocent smugglers. Either way, we saved $4 bucks and drink our tea, savoring every sip.
