Opera Outfits Over 40
21 January 2026 06:16 pm( Read more... )




Back in November I made a ridiculously overengineered parsnip risotto, as a way of dipping a toe into my next cookbook project. I said at the time that it was very tasty, and also I was unlikely to ever make it again.
[Titus] is anywhere I am. He is inside me, and my brain closes around him like hands around a warm drink. [...] And oh, I am so glad of him.American Library Association blurb: Fourteen-year-old Symone's exciting vacation to Antarctica turns into a desperate struggle for survival when her uncle's obsessive quest leads them across the frozen wilderness into danger.
Even though no one else in the world can reach me now, he is never out of reach. Even though Time is a one-way street and it's not taking me anywhere I want to go, with Titus I can travel to and fro through Time—to the Boer War, the Indian raj, the Curragh Races, Gestingthrope in high summer, Hut Point....There was an Otes at the Battle of Hastings in 1066, you know? (I wonder if he was scared too.) From the windows of Glasstown I can see into the future as well—as far forward as my fifteenth birthday, when Titus has promised to take me to the top of the Eiffel Tower! I can't express how glad I am of him.
My parents always told me to never talk to strangers. But I have been living with one for most of my life.Blurb: A transmasc cartoonist reflects on the way his relationship with the sometimes-cruel stranger in the mirror has changed over time.
“I am not dead,” said the voice that wasn’t his own. “You did not kill me. Even like this, you cannot tame me. Raise me, and I will live again.”
A Minnesotan friend read out to me a social media post that went something like "If you know any Minnesotans, you'll know that we take every opportunity to bring up Minnesota and Minnesotan things." The next sentence started something like, "If we manage to expel this ICE invasion..." but I don't remember properly because by the time I heard that much of this sentence I was already sitting up from where I'd been lounging on the couch, so when the sentence ended with "...you'll be hearing about it for the next twenty years."
"Twenty?!" I said. "We're still talking about the Halloween storm of 1991 and that's more than twenty years ago! I think people will be hearing about this for, more like two hundred years."
He scrolled down and chuckled, read out a comment that might not have been understandable because he was still laughing, but I knew what he was saying "This comment says, 'I remember the Halloween blizzard of 1991.' "
Speaking of October 1991, I was just thinking the other day we'll be hearing about the World Series of 1991, and 1987, at the very least every time it's another 5 or 10 years after those dates, for the very least as long as any of those players are still alive.
I said that I remembered hearing about, like, the 5-year-anniversary of that time there was a raccoon on the MPR building.
We are never gonna let you forget, you'll be hearing about this for ever. I guarantee it.
I can't wait (to be talking about this in the past tense).
Gandalf was a chickenshit with no self-control who could have prevented the massive death toll at Pelennor Fields. Take the ring, kill the baddie, jump into Mount Doom before it has a chance to corrupt you. But nooooo, it's way more fun to have a grey-Maia/fire-Maia punch-up in a bottomless pit in order to emerge in a gleam of backlighting and inspirational music riding a glowing horsey like a tween girl's puberty dreams, than it is to take the ring, zap in, punch the eyeball Maia in his dumb eyeball, and then jump into the lava.
by aros_66
Where do you go, when home doesn’t want you? Gurathin doesn’t know, but he ended up on Preservation.
Words: 1179, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English


Some of you will remember that as a pandemic project I went and made a music studio in my basement. It was a lot of fun, and very cool — but too cool, as our basement is endemically cold, even in the summer, and spending more than a half hour in there is liable to set one’s teeth a-chatter. It ended up limiting the amount I used my studio area; for the last in year in particular I was more likely to record something at my kitchen’s center island than I was in my studio space in my basement.
Fast forward to today, and now I have a new set-up, in the room that was previously Athena’s bedroom. She doesn’t need the room anymore — she has a whole house now — and the room is nicely heated (and in the summer, cooled) and also literally ten feet from my current home office. I’ve done an initial setup, which you can see above. There’s more to be done, including bringing up some more musical equipment from the basement, most notably the drumset, but the setup here is good enough to start recording.
That is, once I get the current novel done. First things first. I consider this a bit of motivation.
— JS

Located on the Outer Banks of North Carolina, Roanoke Island is home to one of America’s most enduring mysteries: the disappearance of an entire colony without a trace.
Roanoke Island was first surveyed by English explorers in 1584, when the Spanish Empire was still the dominant colonial power in the Americas. The English statesman Sir Walter Raleigh sought to establish a colony in the region to give the English Crown a foothold on the continent and build a base of operations for privateering—the state-sanctioned practice of raiding foreign commercial vessels. The reconnaissance mission identified Roanoke Island as a promising location, with its soil described as “the most plentiful, sweet, fruitful, and wholesome of all the world.”
Roanoke Island’s natural bounty notwithstanding, the colonization project proved more challenging than expected. Six hundred men arrived on the island in late June the following year, with little time to prepare for the coming winter. Making matters worse, storms damaged an anchored ship storing most of the group’s supplies off the coast, leading to food shortages for the fledgling colony.
These food shortages, paired with disease brought by the Englishmen, escalated tensions between the local Algonquian population and colonists, who turned back to England in the summer of 1586.
In 1587, another expedition led by John White set sail with 118 women, men, and children. Upon their July arrival, colonists started rebuilding and improving upon the infrastructure left behind by the previous colony. But tensions with the local population continued to rise, ultimately leading to an incident where colonists mistakenly attacked a Croatoan village in retaliation for the killing of a colonist by members of the Secotan tribe.
A month after their arrival, on August 18, John White’s granddaughter was born, the first English child born on the North American continent: Virginia Dare. Soon after, White set sail back to England for supplies and additional settlers, expecting to return the following year.
However, White’s return voyage to Roanoke was delayed by several years due to an escalation of the Anglo-Spanish War and increased English interest in colonizing Ireland. When he finally mustered a fleet and arrived on Roanoke Island on August 18, 1590, the settlers were gone, having left few clues aside from a carving of the word “Croatoan.”
Speculation about what happened to the colony abounds, but the colonists’ fate remains a mystery. Popular theories include a hurricane, a famine, a Spanish attack, integration with nearby native populations, or migrations to new locations along the coast. However, to this day, no archeological evidence has been found to support these theories, and many are contradicted by White’s account of arriving at the colony, which did not describe signs of a storm or violent struggle.
Today, visitors to Roanoke Island buy tickets to see “The Lost Colony,” by the late playwright and Pulitzer winner Paul Green, which first opened on July 4th in 1937, and is performed at an amphitheater on the coast. The area also features a visitor center with a museum dedicated to the lost colony, and manicured grounds and nature trails for a leisurely stroll.




There are several “hermitages” of Saint Sava. Known as the Enlightener or the Illuminator, Saint Sava was a Serbian prince and Orthodox monk who became the first Archbishop of the Serbian Orthodox Church. He founded and used multiple secluded places for prayer and work, inspired by travels to Mount Athos and Palestine. These hermitages, or places of solitude, served as centers for spiritual reflection, writing, and education.
One such example is the Hermitage of Saint Sava or Savinje Church. This small chapel dedicated to Saint Sava is tucked away in the Ovčar-Kablar Gorge. Built around 1938 beside a natural spring, it is both historic and secluded, and local tradition links the site to the legend of Saint Sava seeking refuge there. Known as “Sava’s Water,”, the source of the spring water was traditionally believed to aid eyesight issues and soothe headaches. To this day, on major feast days in the Serbian Orthodox Church, monks from the Monastery of the Transfiguration hold services there.
And When the Walls Have Fallen by Masu_Trout
Reader/s: frecklebomb, nony, Sunkitten_Shash
Fandom/s: Original Work
Relationship/s: Gen
Rating: Teen and Up Audiences
Author's summary:
Amaya is the youngest member of the Ghost-Hunter's Guild. She's also, as of a few hours ago, its only member.
Duration: 00:12:38
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