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Rode klaver werd vroeger veel gebruikt als voedergewas en komt weer meer in de belangstelling voor de ecologische landbouw. Hij wordt wel geteeld als stoppelgewas, dat wil zeggen dat de rode klaver in maart en april onder graan gezaaid wordt en na de oogst van het graan verder groeit.
Das Kalksandsteinwerk am Rodinger Bahnhof produzierte schon vor dem Ersten Weltkrieg. Im Jahr 2000 wurde der Betrieb endgültig eingestellt.
This Guy rode this custom Bike to the event. The toy that He brought is stuffed in his jacket. (Temp.15 Degrees Fahr.) Chicago,IL. U.S.A.
O say, can you see, by the dawn's early light,
What so proudly we hail'd at the twilight's last gleaming?
Whose broad stripes and bright stars, thro' the perilous fight,
O'er the ramparts we watch'd, were so gallantly streaming?
And the rockets' red glare, the bombs bursting in air,
Gave proof thro' the night that our flag was still there.
O say, does that star-spangled banner yet wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave?
On the shore dimly seen thro' the mists of the deep,
Where the foe's haughty host in dread silence reposes,
What is that which the breeze, o'er the towering steep,
As it fitfully blows, half conceals, half discloses?
Now it catches the gleam of the morning's first beam,
In full glory reflected, now shines on the stream:
'Tis the star-spangled banner: O, long may it wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave!
And where is that band who so vauntingly swore
That the havoc of war and the battle's confusion,
A home and a country should leave us no more?
Their blood has wash'd out their foul footsteps' pollution.
No refuge could save the hireling and slave
From the terror of flight or the gloom of the grave:
And the star-spangled banner in triumph doth wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave.
O thus be it ever when free-men shall stand
Between their lov'd home and the war's desolation;
Blest with vict'ry and peace, may the heav'n-rescued land
Praise the Pow'r that hath made and preserv'd us a nation!
Then conquer we must, when our cause it is just,
And this be our motto: “In God is our trust!”
And the star-spangled banner in triumph shall wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave!
Aberdeen Proving Ground personnel led the military contingent of the first Veterans Day Parade in Havre de Grace, Maryland, Nov. 11.
The inaugural event was hosted by the City of Havre de Grace and Joseph L. Davis American Legion Post 47. At the front of the parade, which moved down Washington Street in the center of the city’s downtown area, and ended at the Legion on St. John Street, the APG color guard followed a large fire engine from the Susquehanna Hose Company. Directly behind were two vintage Army jeeps. One carried APG Senior Commander Maj. Gen. Mitchell Kilgo with two World War II-era ‘soldiers.” In the other jeep. Maj Gen. John George, commander of the Combat Capabilities Development Command, rode with two ‘soldiers’ and ‘Molly the Riveter.”
Photos by Yvonne Johnson, APG News
St Mary, Aythorpe Roding, Essex
A new entry on the Essex Churches site.
It was May 2014, the most beautiful spring of the century. I had taken my bike on the train from Ipswich to Bishops Stortford before heading off away from the hell of Stansted airport into the wilds of Essex. Now I veered eastwards from the forest, entering the emptiest and most remote area of the county. No villages for miles, just hamlets, fields and the occasional farmstead. The road to my next target would have meant a five mile ride, but I spotted a half-mile bridleway, of which there are lots in this part of Essex. It would cut three miles off the journey, so I took it. It was a farm track, deeply rutted, and it took me down the side of a barley field to copses in the distance, the hysterical yellow of acres of rapeseed in full flower beyond.
At first, it was just about cycleable, but then it wasn't, so I pushed my bike for about ten minutes or so. As I approached the country lane at the far end of it I thought there seemed something vaguely familiar about it, and then I realised what it was. Ah, I thought to myself, I'm entering East Anglia again. Now I was on hedged lanes through rolling fields of barley and rapeseed. Profound green, intense yellow. The road climbed, and over the rise I saw a spire. I headed down a track for half a mile or so and came to one of the most remote churches in all Essex.
It was locked, there was no keyholder notice. An inexpressibly lonely place. The church itself is a poor little thing, its wooden spire shot through with woodpecker holes. There were no notices of service in the porch, and so I expect it has fallen into disuse. Redundancy beckons, and perhaps it will be left to go quietly back to nature. It might just as well be left open, in which case it would at least serve some purpose to passing walkers, pilgrims and strangers.
And yet there was something very special about just standing in the churchyard, in the silence. It felt like nothing had happened here for a very long time. I looked down at the inscription on a memorial cross to Our Dear Son, Bertie George Emberson, who died at the Military Hospital, Caterham, Surrey, September 7th 1918 aged 19 years. How awful. And yet, I thought, the churchyard they stood in to watch him put into the earth has not changed. The one they knew is the one there now.
Simon Knott, April 2018
I rode downtown after work yesterday hoping to catch some of the teacher's strike still going on but missed it. Then I thought I'd try and shoot the Chicago Board of Trade building--something that's been on my list for a while--but the sky went completely dark a good 40 minutes after sunset and they hadn't turned the lights on yet (what the hell?!). So, I wandered around a bit tired and cranky and and stumbled upon this glass atrium at Madison and Wells that reminded me of the 5th Avenue Apple store in NYC. The sky didn't matter to me for this shot and I liked the orange street lights along the L in contrast with the clean white light inside the glass (similar idea to the Day 34 pic). I guess the trip wasn't completely wasted. And I got some exercise, so, alright, I'm not complaining. (c:
Looks even better in the evening sunlight. On my way to try and catch the sunset which was a non event.
Rode my bike to my first slo-pitch practice of the season. It was a good one and I'm very happy to report that I remember how to catch, throw and swing a bat! :D
However, scooping grounders, swinging a bat and throwing repeatedly for two hours isn't something I do regularly. Heck, haven't done that since last fall so I'm gonna be sore tomorrow!! First game of the season is next Saturday and I'm feeling good about the season ahead!
Pink-a-Day 55
In October 2015, we rode an excursion up the Feather River Canyon and BNSF Inside Gateway. Day 1 was Sacramento to Westwood, California, where the train spent the night and passengers were bused to hotels in nearby Susanville. The second day of the trip saw us ride the rest of the Hi Line to Klamath Falls and then proceed on to Chemult, Oregon, where passengers had the choice of taking a bus to a live steam railway, Train Mountain, or a bus to Crater Lake or just riding the train back to K Falls, where it spent the night. We opted for Crater Lake and were not disappointed.
That night, we took the Coast Starlight back home. 2 of us had work that day, or we might have ridden back on the excursion as it recreated SP's Shasta Daylight on a daytime scheduled by Mt Shasta and down the Sacramento River Canyon.
In the photo, the excursion is stopped at Klamath Falls awaiting a new crew, just before merging onto the UP line from the BNSF. In the distance, behind the CZ dome obs on the end, is a BNSF freight waiting to follow us north.
Adoro ele, já usei umas 3 vezes *-*
O problema é que mancha a unha e a mão toda pra tirar, parece que estourou uma caneta nos dedos -.-
Berners Roding, Essex
Abandoned and derelict church on the remote Berners Hall estate.
In 1911, my great-great-aunt Julia Mortlock was a cook at Berners Hall. By then, it was inhabited by James, Charles and Caroline Glasse, two brothers and a sister from Morwenstowe in Cornwall. There was only one other servant. By 1919, the farm had been sold to the Co-op, who still own it today. I believe the grounds have a famous carp lake.
Abbie rode her first bumper car. She spun in circles to start then rammed into the car here (no was was injured). After lots of cheering from the peanut gallery (her parents) Abbie learned to enjoy the bumper car ride.