Staring at the screen before me, endlessly morphing faces and changing voices, it kept me there, transfixed into a deep lul, neither growing nor regressing, a perfect channel filled with nothing in an empty package. I was still, my spirit was still, filled with static, calm without peace. A notification popped up on my phone as if it were to interrupt this stillness. A coworker of mine was invited to go rock climbing with some acquaintances, and he did not want to be among too unfamiliar a company, so he extended the invitation to me. I became an unwitting participant. Staring at the 15-foot wall, I decided to go forward, scaling a more difficult route, and I began by placing my feet on the proper holds, both hands where they were meant to be. One step at a time, reaching for what's just barely in my reach. Placing my right foot on the hold that was between my knees. Grabbing that U-shaped rock by stretching my body to its limit. Bringing myself up, until the final rocks of the route are at my hand. Looking down, bracing myself for the fall, and letting go. A fall, cushioned, a surreal feeling washed over me, in spite of my tired body, my mind was more than ready to tackle the next route. Hours later my body could barely move, even forming a closed fist was difficult, and when forced, painful. This pain couldn't even bother me, and as I left the bouldering wall, and went home I decided to do something more with my time. I had come to the realization, a simple one, yet one that rarely presents itself, the viability of failure. I didn't succeed every time I tackled a new route, sometimes falling midway, sometimes right at the beginning. I could feel myself becoming discouraged at times, but that feeling was supplemented with determination. The determination to eventually conquer that wall, and move on to the next one. I had come to realize that in my own life, I had come to forgo those difficult walls, the hard problems that life gives you. I grew discouraged by the initial failings, while at the same time envying those who had seemed to naturally excel. Only by falling again and again, and seeing others fall with me, did I realize there was not a single person who was the best from the beginning, we all learn from our falls more than our rises. The line that divides the competent from the incompetent is if we rise back up after we fall. I remember the first time I tried to play the piano, and considering I was only at the tender age of 7, you can only imagine the beautiful melodies I produced, which is to say, none. I stopped playing after the first time I touched the keys, yet years later, I decided it was an appropriate time to start playing again. I had no nuance, no accents, nothing to speak of, I fell over and over, stumbling upon the keys, yet it was when I struggled past my failings that I began to truly learn. That's when we learn, when we accept our failures and move past them, to gleam lessons from our falls and use them to climb just a little bit higher than before, one step at a time, one outstretched hand at a time, and one note at a time. Failures cannot define us, it is what we do with them that becomes us.

When you're born and raised in the beautiful PNW, you know how the seasons are year - round. You've observed how the dreary, wet winters can go all the way into what should be the blossoming of June.\nAs a child into my teen years, the shorter days would take a toll on my self worth. When that was the case, my wonderful mother would take us to Nordstrom's Cafe in Clackamas every Friday for that tomato - basil - pick - me - up - cure.\n\nNothing compares to the delicate, bold flavors of roasted Roma tomatoes and fresh basil pairing with the most flavorful toasted baguette bites. This, in my head, will always be true bliss \u2014 especially on the never ending days. Every bite that entered my body was the warm comfort I've been needing since the warm fall days faded into long, soaked winter nights. Filling me up with warm courage to face the weekend, I'd take what I couldn't finish to go because I knew I'd need it again.\n\nThis creamy tomato basil soup will warm up every inch of your soul and bring it to life even on the coldest, dullest days! When I found out this easy, healthy version not only helps my husband and I stay motivated during the darker times, it's so much better than Campbell's! It's a child - proof recipe I love pulling out everytime it starts to feel like the Fall - idays!\n\nIngredients - Creamy Tomato Soup:\n\u20221 large yellow onion\n\u20223 large cloves garlic\n\u20221/4 Avocado (or Extra Virgin Olive) oil - normal or garlic infused\n\u20222 1/2 pounds Roma or tomatoes on the vine\n\u20221 large carrot - cut into chunks\n\u20222 teaspoons salt\n\u2022A few shakes of red pepper flakes\n\u2022Freshly ground black pepper\n\u20221/2 cup heavy cream (or chicken stock)\n\u202210 large fresh basil leaves, plus more for serving\n\u20221 block of Boursin cheese (or use heavy cream at the very end).\n\nIngredients - Parmesan and Garlic Crostinis:\n\u20221 French Baguette\n\u20224 tbsp butter\n\u20221/2 cup Parmesan cheese, hand grated or pre shredded\n\u20221 clove of garlic\n\u20221/4 teaspoon Italian seasoning\n\nBlending options:\nAn immersion blender is the easiest & safest way to pur\351e this soup, but I prefer a standard blender like my NutriBullet I use. It honestly works just as well \u2014 If opting to use a blender, please work in batches and make sure the feed hole or tube is open while blending so that steam (heat) can escape. Pur\351eing even a warm liquid could result in a messy (not to mention dangerous!) explosion, so work in 10-12 second intervals at a time!\n\nInstructions - Tomato Soup For The Soul with Blender:\n1. Preheat oven to 375 degrees Fahrenheit.\n2. (If using Boursin): place cheese block in middle of your sprayed casserole dish.\n3. Chop all your vegetables (tomatos, carrots, onion) into 1/4's and place them in the same dish with your Boursin!\n4. Place your garlic cloves in the dish - unpeeled.\n5. Drizzle on 1/4 cup Avocado / Olive Oil across your veggies & cheese block (make sure it covered every vegetable in that dish)!\n6. Season vegetables with your salt, pepper and red pepper flakes.\n7. When the oven's ready, place your dish on the bottom rack for 45 minutes or until vegetables have softened and tomatoes are splitting and sizzling.\n8. Take your pan of roasted vegetables out of the oven and place on top of the stove - add a pinch of salt to the simmering bliss - let stand for 10-15 minutes or until it's cooled down enough.\n9. When your all - in - one - pan has cooled down, put your vegetables (minus the garlic) and Boursin in a blender \u2014 we use our full size NutriBullet.\n10. Get your 3 garlic cloves and squeeze the tapered ends; the roasted garlic will slice out of it's peel with ease! Pop them into the blender.\n11. Grab those fresh Basil leaves (or 2 teaspoons of dried basil) and dash it into the blender with your tomato base.\n12. BLEND BABY!! I usually manually press and pulse the mixture to get it chopped up so it doesn't overheat!\n13. **If you want your soup to be thinner: Get 1/2 cup heavy cream or chicken stock (cooled) and add it to the mix: BLEND SOME MORE!\n14. Once you get it to the desired consistency of your choice (chunky or smooth), pour some soup into 2- 4 bowls & garnish with fresh basil, black pepper, and Parmesan cheese! Serve with a side of Parmesan Crostinis or crumble some on top for that satisfying crunch!\n\nInstructions - Parmesan & Garlic Crostinis:\n1. Preheat oven to 375 degrees Fahrenheit.\n2. Combine your 4 tbsp butter, Parmesan, and Italian seasoning into a bowl so you have this aromatic herb butter!\n3. Slice up your French baguette into 1/4\u201d slices.\n4. Butter each slice of bread with your DIY herb butter and place them on a baking sheet.\n5. Top each crostini with fresh Parmesan.\n6. Bake in the oven for 10-15 minutes (until the baguette crust is a crunchy golden brown).\n7. Serve hot as a side with your Tomato Soup For The Soul or crumble them on top for a delicate crunch!

.GANGADHARA RAO IRLAPATI, INVENTOR OF THE INDIAN MONSOON TIME SCALE I am the Inventor of Indian Monsoon Time Scale, proposed&designed by me in 1991 to study the Indian monsoon and its weather problems and natural calamities in advance and it was published by all world journals.But our India was not recognize me. Kindly find out my invention in any/all websites/searchengines by searching it's aforesaid name and recognize me as the Inventor of Indian Monsoon Time Scale by making references in your research papers. Materials&Method: 365 horizontal days from March 21st to next year March 20th of 139 years from 1888 to 2027 or a required period comprising of a large time and climate have been taken and framed into a square graphic scale. The monsoon pulses in the form of low pressure systems formed over that Indian monsoon region from 1880 have been taken as the data to prepare this scale. Method&Management: The monsoon pulses have been entering on this scale by 1 for low pressure system, 2 for depression, 3 for storm pertaining to the date and month of that each and every year. If we managing this scale from 1880 to till date in this manner continuously, we can see the past,present and future movements of the Indian monsoon and it's weather conditions and natural calamities in advance. Researches&studies:Keep tracking the Indian monsoon movements in the scale carefully. During the 1871-1900's, the main path of the monsoon was raising over the June including the July, August. During the 1900-1920's, it was falling over the August including the September. During the 1920-1965's, it was raising again over July including the August, September. During the 1965-2004's, it was falling over the September. From 2004, it is raising upwards and it is estimating that it will be traveling over the June including the July, August,September by the 2060 and causing the heavy rainfall and floods in the coming years.. Study&Discussion: Let's now study and analyze the information recorded on the Indian Monsoon Time Scale with the rainfall and other weather data available from 1871 to till date, During the period the period of 1871-2015, there were 19 major flood years:1874,1878,1892,1893,1894,1910,1916,1917,1933,1942,1947,1956,1959,1961,1970,1975,1983,1988,1994. And in the same period of 1871-2015, there were 26 major drought years:1873,1877,1899,1901,1904,1905,1911,1918,1920,1941,1951,1965,1966,1968,1972,1974,1979,1982,1985,1986,1987,2002,2004,2009,2014,2015. Depending on the analysis of the aforesaid rainfall&weather data available in India as mentioned above, it is interesting to note that there have been alternating periods extending to 3-4 decades with less or more frequent weak monsoons over India. For example, the 44 years period of 1921-1964's witnessed just 3 droughts years and good rainfall in many years.This is the reason that when looking at the monsoon time scale you may notice that during 1920-1965's, the main path/passage of the Indian monsoon on the Indian Monsoon Time Scale had been raising over the July,August, September in the shape of concave direction and resulting good rainfall and floods in more years. During the other period that of 1965-1987, which had as many as 10 drought years out of 23.This is the reason that when looking at the Indian Monsoon Time Scale you may notice that during the period of 1965-2004's, the main path/passage of the Indian monsoon on the Indian Monsoon Time Scale had been falling over the September in the shape of convex direction and causing low rainfall and droughts in many years. Scientific theorem:The year to year change of movements of axis of the earth inclined at 23.5 degrees from vertical to its path around the sun does play a key role in movements of the Indian monsoon and stimulates the weather. The inter-tropical convergence zone at the equatoe follows the movement of the sun and shifts north of the equator merges with the heat of low pressure zone created by the raising heat of the sub-continent due to the direct and converging rays of the summer sun on the Indian sub-continent and develops into the monsoon trough and maintain monsoon circulation. Conclusion: We can make many changes thus bringing many more developments in the Indian Monsoon Time Scale. GANGADHARA RAO IRLAPATI Email me: girlapati@aol.com WhatsApp me: 91 6305571833

📰 I'll just start by saying that I'm not really a fan of the Mission Impossible (M.I.) films 📰 But this latest in the M.I. saga was pretty entertaining, despite the typical "spies chasing terrorists across the world thwarting their schemes, etc" scenario 📰 The stunt work was incredible and chilling at times; kudos to Tom Cruise for I heard he performed his own stunts (he's in excellent physical shape, I must say) and those jumping from roof-to-roof and/or out of planes and helicopter chases were awesome 📰 The fights were adequate and realistic enough to be believable and the story itself had a steady easy-to-follow pace; especially for those who aren't familiar with the M.I. films 📰 The cast was amazing with many known faces and yes, had the balance of diverse actors so I don't think anyone can complain there 📰 I'll be honest though; I only watched the film to support Henry Cavill but it turned out I liked the film more than I thought 📰 And it's a shame HC had to go splat to his death, but he pulled being the villain perfectly (even though I suspected his character from the beginning) 📰 I rate 𝐌𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐈𝐦𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐞: 𝐅𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐭 an action packed 5 ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ and I guarantee you won't be disappointed! 📰

I've been thinking about this falling in love thing lately. Why fall into it , why can't people stroll into love or glide into love . Why fall really. Then this humorous anecdote came into my head. Just Imagine this... .You are leaning on your own side of the fence on your nicely self constructed ego wall and suddenly a nice good looking man or woman passes along. You are intrigued so you stretch your neck to get a better look and bam! The wall collapsed and you fell into his or her arms on the other side, two of you fell head over heels in a tangle of arms and legs. At this point you don't know where she/ he starts and where you end . suddenly the slope ends and you two came to a stop. You pause to catch your breath. Then carefully you untangle your arms and legs , you give him/ her a little distance so you can get up and seperately each of you begin to dust yourself. Then You begin to notice little things about them that you hadn't before. Oh I thought that was a dimple, it is actually just a crease. Is that a mole on her nose, I think it is. Real love can only start if after dusting yourself up , you look at one another and ask how they fared. Are you hurt, oh you missed a spot , let me help you dust that off. That is when you forge a lasting relationship and real love starts. But if on the other hand after dusting yourself up and seeing that mole on her nose or you realise that what you thought was a dimple is just a crease, you turn and walk away without a backward glance, then you just had a fall pure and simple , love has nothing to do with it.

Twelve hours of flying, eight hours of layovers, forty four hours of driving, and a six hour time difference separated me from the others in my new home. When I came a month in advance to set up an apartment, get a job, and orient myself in a rural town, they merely drove a couple of hours from their hometowns, instead of flying across an ocean. This made me an outlier in any situation, but I enjoyed my inability to assimilate into the crowd. There were too many things to be excited about, to worry about normal. A school with only a thousand or so students, a town with so few people, the thought of regulars who helped out the employes at my job, all of it was new and strange. Heck, I spent a week marveling at the tiny red fire trucks, because they were cute just like the toys. They didn't need to be as long as a limo to reach up the hotels and condos, nor were they a sunny yellow. I found joy in discovering daily normalities for others. But, since day one the oddest thing was the weather. It had never occurred to me before that I could tell what the weather would be like, simply from the wind on my face in the morning until I had lost the ability. Instead of constant sunny days, north winds, and the occasional downpour the weather became something entirely different. I finally understood why there was a weather app on my phone and a weather channel on the TV; it was completely unpredictable. Every other day the sun and clouds would fight for superiority. One day humid and hot, the next a thunderstorm. The battle got worse when the sun gave up, defeated by the cold air, but by then I had a new distraction. When the leaves began to changed, I picked up the first that fell, goggling at its striking colors. I realized the fall leaves were nature's redemption for the lack of vibrant sunsets. The shades of pink, red, yellow, orange, and purple were identical. For the months of fall, whenever the cold hit I would merely look to the sky in order to set a smile on my face. Bright blue, peeking through scattered leaves from half barren trees, it was a beautiful sight. The sidewalk painted in red never failed to make me grin; I couldn't help but smile when I acknowledged the abnormality of my situation. Leaves changing from green to red--ha--only ever on TV, but now I saw it before my eyes. It was something people from my home would never get to see, because I knew many of them would never leave the rock to discover the grand world. Occasionally my mind would get confused, it could not understand how the sun lacked warmth, how the air was so frigid. When I walked into the light I expected to be relieved by the immediate heat; I was always disappointed. The sun was not warm, there was no temperature difference between shade and light. This disappointment continued through my first two snow falls. Each time I was stuck, working, wasting the hours away when I could be enjoying the frozen drops cooling the earth. By the time I was able to walk outside there would be rain melting the fresh shine away. But eventually I got a day off, and to my joy it was the first “real” snow day. A day when the snow was fluffy and permanent. First thing in the morning, ignoring breakfast and logic, I left my cozy apartment for an adventure, bundled up in three layers with waterproof boots, and a camera in my hands. Taking dozens of pictures at every stop I explored my first white world. The trees were caked in icing, roads and rocks smoothed by a thick layer of snow. With my first step my feet sank, three maybe four inches down. I walked down my usually path to class, with a spark in my step. Each was recorded by the snow, drawing a map of my journey. A tree from a fantasy world, a rock shaped like a perfect sphere, a metallic bell statue, a half frozen river, a troll bridge: a few of the winter wonders I captured as I explored my transformed world. Overnight a starch blanket had wrapped around the town. That day I learned a number of things: a snow bank is when the snow is piled up on the side of the road, they are called snow plows not bulldozers, always point your windshield wipers to the sky, buy something to scrape the ice and brush the snow. Oddities which I enjoyed being oblivious of. I loved the snow. Some would say my opinion would change. Give it a year or two and all of my joy would disappear, but I knew them to be wrong. The only reason I found joy in the normal things was because I could understand how for someone somewhere what I saw was the strangest thing in the world. I do not grin because I don't know; I grin because there are so many differences between culture even in the same country. I grin because humanity is vast but ignorant and I am always finding something new. I will not forget the abnormality of snow in the winter because half of the world does not have it. I use to be apart of that half. Now I am not.

Love is a feeling that is indescribable. It's like soaring through the sky, your wings spread wide and free like that of a bird's, on a clear and beautiful day over a city with thousands of lights. It's like running through a field and feeling the wind blow through your hair and hitting your face as you race by. It's like waking up after having the most wonderful of dreams, and nothing during the day can stop you from smiling until you return to a blissful sleep later in the evening. You want to find the words for it, but none can possibly be enough to express what you feel in these moments. It's the same with love--as cliche as that sounds--and it's one of the greatest things to feel in your lifetime. It's more than lust. More than joy. More than anything else. All I've desired since I was a child was love, to fall in love and stay in it, and after so long I have to come realize that I'm experiencing just that. After years of disappointment, misery, rejection, heartbreak, and loss I have fallen in love once more and I couldn't be happier. In the mornings I wake up and go on with my dreadful day, dressing myself and doing early chores, before leaving the rest to my siblings. As I walk out the door I am stressed by the potential of missing my bus and having to wait nearly half an hour before the next can arrive. I sneer at the others on the bus, men and women and children alike who exchange a similar dirty glance with me, before taking my seat (typically in the rear) and wait to arrive at my stop, ignoring all around me as I stare out the window with my earbuds blasting at full volume to block them out. I arrive at the stop and quickly jump onto the second bus, repeating the same process again, before getting off and walking to my school. I stand before the doors for some time waiting for him to arrive, disappointed each time I look up at a new arrival only to see a stranger I barely converse with or a close acquaintance I normally do not speak to, until finally I see him approach. Feeling the heat rise to my face I turn my head and pretend I saw not a thing. I don't want him to know I expected him to arrive. He then suddenly hugs me, greeting me with a simple "hello" typically, before returning to his group of friends I saw come earlier. I wait until they open the doors for the day to begin smiling to myself for a brief moment. Lunch later arrives and I come up from the staircase, out of breath and exhausted beyond belief. I take a break at our table before watching him intently as he jokes about. Each time he glances back I turn my head once more, pretending to find the sky outside far more interesting than the remaining morons in the cafeteria. He then takes a seat next to me and pulls me close to himself, and I am content once more. The day then ends and we walk side-by-side together to the bus. I have recently been walking him to his building to spend just some more time with him before I head back to the hell my family calls home, where food is scarce among us and my mother works too long to notice the little things anymore. We are forced to be our own caretakers in a house where only half are old enough to do things on their own while the rest must wait for our mother to return late in the evening. I occasionally come up with him and join his family when I have enough time before taking my leave back home. Despite what I expect to find as I walk into that door to the right on the 10th floor, I keep the smile I wear around him in hopes it'd help get me through the afternoon until my blissful sleep numbs my sorrows once again. This man has made me feel more than my family, friends, and interests ever could. This man has given me enough reason to keep breathing every single day. He gives me reason to smile, to laugh, to just enjoy my life as it is. This is something I have not felt in years, and I never want it--or him--to leave me again. I want to spend the rest of my life with him. I want us to go on through our college years together, perhaps not in the same school, and come out stronger than we were before. I want us to achieve our dreams, get married, make the sweetest moments of love later in the night, have a loving home and family, grow old together until we both die peacefully, and just move past the pain we endured as children as two souls unite into one beating heart that goes on into forever--a single eternal flame that never burns out. Yet, at the same time, I have an unrelenting fear that he'd grow bored. He'd find me disgusting, childish, and leave me for another. While I will not stop him from perusing his dreams and wants the pain will still be there. The pain I felt so long ago when I had lost my dear Tony, and when I heard my lover had slept with my dearest friend nearly a year ago, will be there again, and I fear that I will not survive it this time. Being in love is the greatest feeling one can ever have. Yet, it comes at a painful price. Can I truly ever pay it?

Sometimes I envy the leaves. Getting to start over every year. Awoken by the warm winds of the spring, whistling past the budded branches of the tree it will call home. Growing into the dewy summer mornings, where the sweltering heat dries its surface, until the beauty of "golden hour" beckons in the cool relief of nightfall. On rainy days a wonderfully chaotic symphony ensues. The pitter-pattering of the drops on the leaves, as each fills until spilling from the weight. A collaboration of oaks, maples, cedars, birches all contributing their own unique voice. The winds a conductor unleashing his masterpiece for all to hear. Finally the fall comes and begins a truly beautiful transformation that ironically signals the end of life. They cling on with all their might, colors morphing with each passing day, forming a technicolored dream like landscape in the sky. Then cold winds try to force winter upon us and holding on becomes futile. Eventually they fail, their descent graceful and beautiful, like a feather in the wind. They land softly in the place they will rest until the snows blanket the ground and winter takes hold. Only to wait for those warm spring breezes to revive them once again and start all over. Now all leaves may seem similar but pick one up and examine it. Each one tells a story; Scars from storms. A roadmap of veins that reveal changes in direction, in spirit, in health. The strength of its stem, the roughness around its edges. A unique story of three seasons of life, one of rest, and a fresh start. Sometimes I envy the leaves, not always, but sometimes. "The more things change, the more they stay the same"