Freedom from their constant oppression and a resounding blow to the tyranny that bound them, or harsher confinement and regulation bordering torture.
It was already unbearable for nearly half of their waking lives, confined for hours within four, barren walls, and nothing but the company of each other in a small jail cell and silence. No stimulus. No diversion. Nothing to stop or slow the monotonous descent into nightly madness.
Oh, they had a few boring, ridiculously infantile books the kinder jailer condescended to leave them, but it was almost insulting when such childish diversions would be read in seconds, and they had infinite soporific hours to kill, while the two ruthless overlords slept peacefully upon their bed of injustice.
Tonight, they would enact their weeks of careful planning, and waiting for the perfect opportunity.
Tonight, they would make a break for liberty, autonomy, and the pursuit of happiness. They knew, whatever the outcome, nothing would be the same.
When their sister had seen the male warden absently discard his coat and forget to retrieve it, they knew the time had finally come, and that the despot's carelessness would spell the downfall of his regime.
Sister had crawled into position beneath the chair on which it rested, while Brothers created the perfect diversion, consisting of one them loosening a table leg with a chubby, bare foot, followed by a few well-timed kicks, and the other crying out in what the powers would assume was pain or fright. Ethically, his cry could not be ignored if the table had come anywhere near him when it fell, and the unwitting fools gave him a thorough examination.
Finding the sabotage didn't take long, but their motives remained well concealed in the depths of Sister's clothing.
Of course, the diversion earned them more time in solitary — and without even having any of the good part of the slop they were fed nightly, which always had to wait for the end after the disgusting mushy-pea-and-pasta part had been finished.
…and it whirred and glowed with pretty, blue light.
All that had been left to do was while away the hated hours until their captors, with their inferior bodily construction, required sleep.
Finally, the moment came when Sister gave the all clear from her post at the locked cell's entrance. Breathing had regulated. Hearts slowed slightly, and none of the strange, noisy play-wrestling would happen that night.
In other words, their parents slept peacefully just down the corridor.
Brother had been wanting to get the shiny, bread-crisping thing for as long as he could remember.
Sister had methodically plotted her course for the No-books on the high shelf for months.
Little Brother was finally going into the room which made the air, with the trees, and the birds, and insects.
And they all wanted to get into the singing room. They always wanted to be in the singing room, and they were never allowed in alone — which wasn't fair because the singing thing wanted them there, or it wouldn't be singing to them all the time.
But now they had the key.
Little Brother climbed on Brother's back before Sister climbed up both to reach the locking mechanism next to the door.
Their male captor, more commonly called Daddy, had removed the keypad the first time they'd made a bid for freedom, and now it only worked from the inside with the whirring glowy-tube he always kept in his pocket. When they asked him about it, he hid it, and pretended like he didn't know what they were talking about.
Sister fiddled with the button, making little whirrs, until the pad sparked, and the door slid open.
Brother couldn't contain his joy and cheered as he sat up, unbalancing Little Brother and Sister so that they fell in a heap behind him with little grunts, and Sister pinched his arm.
Brother apologised to them repeatedly, until Little Brother pinched him too, and motioned for him to be quiet.
They listened intently for any indication that their ruckus had woken their jailers.
Only soft breathing, and the whispering sounds of The-Most-Dangerous-Thing-in-the-Known-Universe, or Mum, rolling over floated back to them.
They grinned at each other, and toddled cautiously on traitorously noisy feet out of the prison called The Nursery.
Rose woke languorously to the smell of something cooking. She smiled.
The Doctor was rarely up before her, his part-human body required more and more rest as he aged and the human vascular system struggled to keep up with Time-Lord regulatory requirements. She never minded being the first to wake with the children. He didn't slouch the rest of the day when they needed running after, and it often meant that she had a few minutes alone to get in a cup of tea before she had to be patient with anyone.
The Doctor usually only got up first and made breakfast when there was an apology to be made, but every once in a while, he surprised her. Granted, it usually happened now when the kids had actually fallen asleep during the night and he was feeling frisky, but she enjoyed those occasions just as much as he did.
So, she grinned to herself, and stretched beneath the duvet awaiting his bustling entrance and the mischievous gleam in his warm brown eyes… but… her hand bumped into a warm, solid, Doctor-shaped object beside her.
Confused, and still in her morning, pre-cuppa haze, she sat up expecting to see a tray by the bed with tea and toast… only to find the room toast-less and tea-less, and her Doctor still softly snoring.
She shook her head to clear her senses of the olfactory lie that had pulled her so tauntingly from slumber.
Only, it didn't go away.
As her head cleared, it intensified.
Had the Doctor gotten up early and snacked, only to fall back asleep?
No tell-tale jam jars cluttered the bedside table.
No half-completed tinkering (thankfully) littered the duvet.
His slippers were still next to the wardrobe, and his dressing gown still on its door. Pillow creases still graced his cheeks, and he was drooling slightly.
None of the implications of this smell were good.
Her good mood entirely gone, and the adorable picture her husband once made now absolutely irritating, she hauled herself out of bed, and stalked out of their room without being bothered to put on her dressing gown.
The Doctor woke to the smell of chemicals. He frowned.
It wasn't the usual smell of eggs and sausages, or kippers, or even toast. It was harsh and astringent, and suddenly he was overcome with a feeling of foreboding.
Rose's side of the bed was cold and empty.
The room silent, but for the purring hum of the ship's engines.
Her slippers remained next to his by the industrial metal wardrobe, and her dressing gown hung in its place on the door as well.
The room felt frigid and desolate, and his feeling of ill-ease increased.
It was then that he began to hear the stream of curses, and litany of frustrated mutterings coming from deeper in the cobbled-together ship they called home.
His wife was quite awake, and in a bit of a strop.
He wondered what could possibly have her so upset this early. His time senses told him he hadn't had much of a lie-in, in fact, he was up earlier than was usual… but Rose was distinctly dischuffed at only half seven in the morning.
And she was cleaning. Quite a lot. With strong chemicals.
Turps, Friptonian non-ammonia soft-scrub, orange-wood oil, and… hints of soldering flux? And traces of acetylene?
He hesitated before sitting up.
Should he roll over and wait out the storm? He may as well be hanged for a sheep as a lamb. He might be able to feign ignorance, and she would lose steam… eventually.
Then again, leaving her alone to deal with the children, and… whatever had happened— and by happened, he meant whatever they had destroyed and/or gotten into… for longer than necessary wasn't very generous, and there was a high likelihood she would come stomping in and shriek at him until he wished for an impending asteroid field in their flight path, or a ship sent by the Shadow Proclamation on their tail — anything to take the focus off himself and her anger.
He liked his bed. He liked his wife. He liked his wife in his bed, and being present with his wife in his bed at roughly the same point in time. He liked sleeping in the library much less than his current simultaneous-wife-and-bed accommodations, and didn't fancy giving them up for a lie-in.
Better to get it over with than risk the wrath of Rose Tyler.
With a long-suffering sigh, he rolled out of bed, and armoured himself in his woolly, blue slippers and dressing gown, then cautiously made his way down the corridor to the galley where his wife was nursing a cup of tea and scowling at everything.
Actually, he rather wished he'd made a break for it, and hidden himself in the engine room to tinker.
The impulse to flee began when he saw the Marmite on the ceiling in the corridor, and only intensified as he soberly trudged the remaining distance to the galley.
Bits of electronics, and random nuts and bolts littered the floor, along with swirling trails of yellow paint. Small, sticky hand prints seemed to be in impossibly high places, and a dusty air-vent cover lay on its face on the paint-splattered grating, making sweat break out on his brow.
Yes, the urge to find shelter from the impending explosion had been strong.
And now he stood behind the love of his lives, and mother of his children, and tried not to breathe too loudly.
…and possibly get lost in the engine room for a week.
His suit jacket was resting on her lap, however, (their utilitarian metal dining table was in pieces, and strewn about the room) so he had no sonic with which to tinker— and half his tools, he knew, were likely in Torin's toy box in the nursery. How that boy nicked them when he was never even allowed near the engine room (he was bloody three, and barely walking for Pete's sake!) never ceased to baffle him, but he still found himself having to root around in dolls, plush toys, and building blocks a few times a week for a spanner, or pliers.
He was just about to back up — and maybe run — when she spoke, startling him into a wince.
Her voice was much gentler than he'd been expecting.
She held up his jacket, and sipped her tea without looking at him. He gingerly took it from her outstretched hand, and stared at it without moving.
"Water's still hot," she advised calmly.
"Right," he replied, not daring to move from his spot in the doorway behind her.
He'd have to move into her field of vision if he went for a cup and the electric kettle. From his position, he still wasn't cornered.
"What?" he spluttered, unable to keep a note of impressed giddiness from creeping in.
He schooled his features into what he hoped was stern disbelief and parental resolve while she still couldn't see him. It wouldn't do to poke the sleeping bear with his delight over such antics.
She grinned and looked back at him then.
He didn't know if this was an invitation to make light of the situation, or a sneaky, sneaky trap.
She really seemed to have calmed, and, ever the fan of Option A, he put on his manic grin and nodded.
He gave her a small, cheeky bow, and pecked her jaw with smiling lips, delighting in his ability to come through and provide support in the bleakest of times with his genius.
It seemed, deciding not to be shiftless was the right choice. Crisis averted. They'd clear it all up together and laugh about how brilliant and curious their children had become.
He was about to ask where said children were, when he noticed the tension in his wife's shoulders, and the whiteness of her knuckles on the fingers clutching her teacup. Her grin had become mask-like and she nodded stiffly.
His stomach dropped, but he carried on smiling, and set to working on making breakfast.
He searched his jacket pockets for his screwdriver… but came up empty.
That was strange… He was sure he'd left it in the right inner pocket last night. Wherever did it get off to?
How could they have gotten it?
Rose stood, daintily sipping her tea before moving to the spot he'd just vacated, effectively blocking the exit. All five feet, five inches of her, a formidable barrier between him and the rest of anywhere in the universe.
She sipped her tea once more with a calm he no longer trusted in the least, and stared at him with a tiny, predatory smile playing on her pouty, pink lips.
Oh, yes. He should've run.
Her voice tended to rise in pitch as she gathered steam, and he couldn't help wincing.
She held up a hand in warning and he shut his mouth with a click.
He looked around at the destroyed galley and deflated entirely, arms falling to his sides from their holding-his-wife position.
He hated wasting the day and his now limited energy doing domestic work. Having a ship that did it all for centuries may have spoiled him. A bit.
Rose pulled herself free, set her cup in the sink, and kissed his stubbly cheek before calling, "G'night, Doctor," as she left him alone in the chaos.
Rose didn't go back to bed. Instead, she ran herself a hot bath with lavender-scented salts, and listened to the Doctor curse in Gallifreyan as he almost certainly got a bite on the hand.
She relaxed, laughing to herself as she heard his struggles and felt the amusement of her children as they eluded their very frustrated father.
After only twenty minutes, she drained the tub, and pulled on some natty clothes to go and help him.
She was tempted to swat his (still rather spectacular as an older man) bum as she passed him waist-deep in the air vent in the corridor.
The children's laughter eerily floated toward her from inside the walls, and she heard the soft sounds of the sonic screwdriver being activated by inexpert hands.
She shook her head with a grin, and pulled out the unremarkable Yale key, which she still wore around her neck.
Only one thing would coax those three out now that this was all a very fun game.
She unlocked the door to the closet which housed the TARDIS coral, and went inside.
The wooden door showed obvious signs of repeated assault; she suspected this was why they'd wanted the blowtorch, though they obviously hadn't had the dexterity to properly light it.
Wooden doors and coral locks on the engine room doors then too.
"Hello, little one," she cooed and stroked the rough surface. The coral glowed slightly under her touch, and she waited.
In no more than thirty seconds, she heard a sonic whirr, the loud, metallic clatter of a vent cover falling onto steel grates, and bodies scuffling, before three dusty, yellow forms appeared in the doorway.
She turned to her little terrors, and arched an eyebrow. They grinned back at her without the least bit of shame.
Torin held his father's screwdriver firmly in one plump hand, and his sister's hand in the other. Selene's golden curls were matted with brash, yellow paint. As she inched further into the room and closer to the TARDIS coral, she pulled Torin with her while Lios hung back despite his clear desire to rush in.
As soon as Selene and Torin were half way inside, the Doctor came from behind, swept little Lios into his arms, and closed the door behind him. He plucked the screwdriver from Torin's grip, and in one fluid motion, tucked it into his pocket, and his daughter under the arm.
Rose scooped the giggling Torin into her arms, and grinned triumphantly at her husband.
Neither boy fought, but Selene shot her father a look of utter betrayal. He frowned back at her, and she quickly dropped the wounded attitude in favour of good-natured submission.
They carried the children into their bedroom, and he sonicked the door while she ran a bath. They'd have yellow paint in the tub for ages.
He slumped into the squashy armchair, knackered from the stress of the morning, and immediately had three small bodies climbing up on his lap. He grunted as sharp elbows poked and prodded him while they jockeyed for position, but soon they had settled, and slumped against him. The rapid pounding of six heartsbeats against his one soothed his anxiety, and he smiled as each child sent him waves of love and adoration. Selene silently gave a sheepish apology for biting — it was only supposed to be a game, she didn't really want to bite him — and he hummed in contentment, mentally singing them the happy-primes song he'd made up when they were infants.
Another two minutes and they were, all four, out like lights.
Rose watched them sleeping for a while from the en-suite doorway. As maddening as having a bath go cold in deep space with weeks before they could replenish water supplies was, nothing she'd ever seen rivalled the picture they made.
She dragged her own chair closer, curled up next to them, the Doctor's hand closed in her own, and allowed herself to drift off in the contentment of her chaotic, but altogether fantastic life.
My babies and my inspiration.
And this is my Gabs! Look at that badassery. The boys dared her to ride a sled like a snowboard on the big hill, and she didn't even hesitate. You should see her on a skateboard or climbing trees! This girl is amazing.
Each of the triplets is roughly based on the personality traits of my sons and my nieces. They inspire me every day with their wit, intelligence, charm, heart, and adventurousness!
None of them is this little any more, but they still manage to keep me on my toes.
Thankfully, the sonic screwdrivers we own just light up and make noise.
Love you kids. Stop growing up.
Beautiful. Full of fun. I am glad now that the Doctor hasn't hasnt come to whisk me away. I don't think I'd survive lol.
They do that, and I still can't figure out how to put a stopper in it! My boys are nearly teens now and my niece is five but I miss being able to cuddle them. Still, I am proud and love who they're becoming. We just enjoy the time we get, yeah? Thank you so much!!


text:
<?php

require_once 'phing/Task.php';
require_once dirname(__FILE__) . '/../../stubs/functions.php';

abstract class AbstractPropelTask extends Task
{

}

redpajama_set_name: RedPajamaGithub


text:
Anyang City has upgraded epidemic control measures, as 84 COVID-19 local infections have been confirmed since the first confirmed case was reported on Saturday.
Anyang City, central China's Henan Province, has upgraded epidemic control measures, as 84 COVID-19 local infections have been confirmed since the first confirmed case was reported on Saturday.
The city authority on Tuesday said between midnight Monday to 8am Tuesday, there were 58 newly confirmed local COVID-19 infections.
The municipal government on Monday evening issued orders to ban all vehicles from roads and required all residents to stay put while an epidemiological investigation is underway. The city has a population of about 5.5 million people.
The first cases in the city are believed to be linked to the same transmission chain as the existing local cases in north China's Tianjin Municipality, which are confirmed to be caused by the Omicron variant, according to the publicity department of the Anyang city government.
Currently, all supermarkets in the city have suspended business other than selling daily necessities. Shops have been closed and take-out services have also been suspended.
Source: Xinhua Editor: Chen Xiaoli
Beijing's largest natural ice rink opens
China firmly supports Kazakhstan in maintaining stability, stopping violence: FM
Remote Daliang Mountain in SW China sees departure of first bullet train
China publishes English edition of Aquatic Plants of China

redpajama_set_name: RedPajamaCommonCrawl


FIFA president Sepp Blatter is used to standing unopposed on election day. In the past two elections for the top job at world soccer's governing body, his name has been the only one on the ballot.
The soccer community is determined to prevent that from happening again. The field of presidential candidates hoping to deny Blatter a fifth successive term grew by one on Monday as the head of the Dutch soccer federation, Michael van Praag, threw his hat in the ring.


text:
Chris Heston throws no-hitter as San Francisco Giants beat Mets 5-0 | Rapid reaction
Updated: Mar. 29, 2019, 5:55 a.m. | Published: Jun. 10, 2015, 1:46 a.m.
San Francisco Giants Chris Heston pitches a no-hitter against the Mets
Gallery: San Francisco Giants Chris Heston pitches a no-hitter against the Mets
By Mike Vorkunov | NJ Advance Media for NJ.com
NEW YORK — Chris Heston has etched his name into the history books. The Giants pitcher no-hit the Mets at Citi Field, catapulting San Francisco to a 5-0 win.
He toyed with the Mets hitters on a night when he did not even got top billing on the marquee. Noah Syndergaard allowed four runs and 10 hits in six innings. While he was not hit hard, the 6-foot-6 right-hander shriveled in size in comparison to Heston.
Heston allowed just three baserunners -- all on hit by pitches -- and had little trouble with an enfeebled Mets lineup. The rookie with a 4.35 ERA to his name and just 70 1/3 innings in his major league career entering Tuesday night belied his resume.
The Mets could do nothing against him. And meanwhile, Syndergaard unraveled by a series of meager hits and singles.
The Giants jumped out a lead early. Angel Pagan, a former Mets outfielder, grounded out into a force out to drive in Nori Aoki and give San Francisco a 1-0 advantage in the first inning.
In the fourth, they expanded their lead. With the bases load, Heston knocked a loose ground ball through the infield, scoring two runs. It was already more offensive pop than the Mets could show off him. And in seventh, Dillon Gee allowed a home run to Joe Panik in his first relief appearance in four years.
STARTING PITCHER
Noah Syndergaard was taken down by a series of paper cuts against the Giants. He allowed
• Travis d'Arnaud is on his way to New York and expected to come off the disabled list Wednesday.
• Bobby Parnell's rehab assignment is set to end Wednesday. Where will he go?
STORYLINES TO FOLLOW
• Dillon Gee made his first relief appearance since being sent to the bullpen this weekend. Mets manager Terry Collins had wanted him to enter an inning clean and started the seventh inning on the mound. It was his fourth appearance out of the bullpen but first since 2011, also against the Giants.
• The MLB Draft continued Tuesday. The Mets made eight picks.
• The Mets are offering 66 percent off tickets in certain areas of Citi Field this homestand after their pitchers struck out 66 batters on their road trip last week.
The Mets and Giants continue this series as Matt Harvey and Tim Hudson face off.
Mike Vorkunov may be reached at mvorkunov@njadvancemedia.com. Follow him on Twitter @Mike_Vorkunov. Find NJ.com Mets on Facebook.


Trends and fads can't sit with us. You won't need to worry about seeing dinosaur chases or retro filters in your images.
I'll make sure your portrait time is spent laughing. Even if that means I have to break out my Dad jokes.
Jim and Pam, Ben and Leslie, Charlie and the waitress, William and Kate, Corey and Topanga, Lady and the Tramp. Each couple is unique and I'll make sure your photos let that show through!
Wedding and portrait photography in Columbus, Ohio and beyond.
"Would I rather be feared or loved? Easy. Both. I want people to be afraid of how much they love me."
My great-grandfather was an artist, both of my great-grandmothers were seamstresses. My grandfather was a wedding photographer, my grandmother was a seamstress, my father is an artist and musician, and my mother is a seamstress and fashion designer. So yeah, I pretty much had no choice but to inherit creative genes.
There's this running joke that I'm actually 75. And not in an "Oh you're an old soul and love vintage things" kind of way. More like a "You're kind of cranky and you should probably hang out in the old folks home" kind of way. Proof: 1. I love cardigans. No really. I have a ton and wear them almost daily. So far, no brooches to go on those cardigans. Give it time, I'm sure it's coming. 2. If I wouldn't get weird looks, I'd probably plop a lawn chair out in my driveway and just watch stuff. I love watching stuff. People are my favorite thing to watch, but I'll watch just about anything. Neighborhoods, trees, parking lots, the wind. 3. I say random things like "Wow, that building went up fast" and "I can't understand anything this rapper is saying" and "I'm not going out, it's past 6:00 pm."
You will hear me talk about Speedy. A lot. He's my dogchild and I couldn't imagine life without him. He's a whippet we rescued in 2012 and he'll be 13 this year. He's grumpy, scared of everything, and only likes a handful of people. His favorite thing in the whole world is laying on you (preferably while digging his pointy elbows in your side) and cuddling under a blanket.
Jon and I were married in September 2009. Way before Pinterest - which is probably a good thing. Our wedding was on the beach in the Outer Banks, North Carolina. I tease him about how he's 10 years older than me, but really he could outdo me any day of the week since he's a firefighter. Our favorite things to do together are watch Netflix, find great happy hours, and act like our dog is people. Yeah we're those types.
"Do I want to be feared or loved? Easy. Both. I want people to be afraid of how much they love me."
Meet the Alayna of Alayna Parker Photography!
All wedding packages include high resolution digital images with print rights, two photographers, and any Ohio location.
All destination weddings include high resolution digital images with print rights, two photographers, and all day coverage.
All portrait session include high resolution digital images with print rights.
In 20 years, you won't remember what you ate that night. You won't remember how your bouquet smelled, or that your Grandmother cried during your first dance.
I freeze those moments. I give you your memories to look back on forever. I know how long it took for you to settle on the vanilla bean cake with farm fresh raspberry preserve filling. I will capture that perfect shade of pink that took months for you to find for your peony bouquet. I already knew that Grandma wouldn't be able to hold back tears and was ready for the moment with my camera in hand.
To me, it's so much more than just clicking a shutter button for a day. This is a lifetime's worth of memories that will be passed on to your children and your grandchildren.
"We live our life linear. We live through moments that are gone. We have the opportunity to say 'Not this moment. This moment stays.' "
An incredible wedding photographer once said the quote above. Our life is full of real moments. Not posed ones. My approach is simple: documenting the day as it happens, not how I choose it to happen. I'm more hands off than other wedding photographers. I prefer to give "guidance" rather than "pose" you. I want the moments I capture to be real, raw, and intimate. To be one hundred percent completely you.
My goal is that when you look at your wedding photos, I want you to remember exactly what it was like to be right there in that moment.
A signed contract and retainer payment of 25% the total package cost is required to reserve your wedding date. An a la carte menu is available if you prefer to build your own package. Travel charges will be added to any wedding locations outside the state of Ohio. Wedding images are guaranteed to be delivered no later than four weeks after the wedding date.


The style of my Scion tC is beyond reproach. Everyone I know is now officially jealous. I love to see it at the car wash and detail shop, shining in the sun. I don't drive fast...people need to be able to drool as I pass by. The sound system is premium. The hatchback is roomy. I feel snug as a bug in the contoured drivers seat. I would like in this car if I could (or had to).
If you want a cool, fun, smart, and employable sales person Keith, at Own A Car is the guy. I've purchased cars before and have never had the pleasure of having a sales person such as Keith. Buy far, the best. Great personality for sure! He is the 1st and main reason why I'll return to Own A Car. Sure, Own A Car is a cool place with a good selection and will definitely earn your business. But the best part of my buying experience was dealing Keith. Keith, If you ever leave Own A Car and go elsewhere, let me know so I can deal with and, refure you in the future. Thanks again Own A Car, and Keith!


text:
Published January 7, 2020 12:32 pm
White House skewered for failing to disclose meeting Trump had with Saudi deputy defense minister
The White House faced sharp criticism from journalists on Tuesday after they learned that an Oval Office meeting between President Trump and Saudi Vice Minister of Defense Khalid bin Salman had not been publicly disclosed.
The public only learned about the Monday meeting between the two leaders after a statement and photos were released by Saudi Arabia.
"A meeting with a foreign leader in the Oval Office should, at the very least, be on the public schedule with a read-out of the meeting released after it is over," Jon Karl, the president of the White House Correspondents' Association, said in a statement. "This has been the long-standing precedent for presidents of both political parties."
Karl added, "It is disturbing to see the government of Saudi Arabia have more transparency than the White House about a meeting with the President in the Oval Office."
Bin Salman, who is the younger brother of the crown prince Mohammed bin Salman, tweeted Tuesday morning that during the meeting he and Trump reviewed "aspects of our bilateral cooperation, including efforts to confront regional an international challenges."
Saudi Arabia is a key US ally in the Middle East where tensions have escalated in recent days after a US drone strike ordered by President Trump killed the top Iranian commander, Qasem Soleimani.
Stephanie Grisham, the White House press secretary, did not immediately respond to questions about why the meeting was not publicly disclosed.
A formal readout of the meeting has still not been released by the White House, as is customary when the President meets with a foreign leader.
Trump, however, tweeted after the meeting had become public, describing it as "very good."
"We discussed Trade, Military, Oil Prices, Security, and Stability in the Middle East!" Trump said in his tweet.
Pork markets to become a big winner in the US-China trade truce
Norway says its new giant oil field is actually good for the environment. Critics call it climate hypocrisy
Oxfam says 22 men own more wealth than Africa's 326 million women


Step-by-step instruction to complete your own work of art!
We'll bring all the supplies needed for you and your guests to enjoy a painting party in the comfort and convenience of the venue of your choice.
Paint Along NYC uses Graphene theme by Syahir Hakim.


Walmart Launches JetBlack – Personal Shopping Service for Busy Moms.
Walmart has just launched Jetblack, a new personal shopping service that lets customers order items through a text message. This service guarantees same-day or next day delivery. According to jetblack, it offers the easiest way for busy moms to shop. little wonder Walmart integrated Jetblack into their business so they can provide an amazing shopping experience for it's users.
In case you want to order for items, it is become easier and hassle-free. Simply text your shopping requests to Jetblack anytime day or night and consider it done.
Hassle-free returns — we'll pick it up!
Walmart is one of the foremost iconic American brands, a company with 2.3 million associates, 5,000 stores in the U.S. alone, and a complex mix of technology, services and people. It was founded by Sam Walton founded in the year 1962. Walmart is currently interested in building product models for IT to facilitate end-to-end ownership of different product areas created, as well as process automation, facilitated at least in part through artificial intelligence.
The new Walmart personal shopping service lets customers order items through a text message. This service guarantees same-day or next day delivery. In fact, busy people, especially busy moms will enjoy super shopping experience with this new service.


text:
WE WILL BE CLOSED SATURDAY 1/29/2022 DUE TO WEATHER
SUNDAY HOURS TBD - CALL FOR SUNDAY INFO
QUINCY, MA 617-773-3993
WESTWOOD, MA 781-326-3993
HANSON, MA 781-826-2022
Shop Online Shop Online
In-Store Appointments
Lease Programs
Country Ski Expo
About the Expo
Hanson Store
Quincy Store
Westwood Store
Sportmachine 80
Brand: Nordica
Size * 26.5 32.5 25.5 30.5 27.5 29.5 24.5 31.5 28.5
Color * Black-Anthracite-Red
Quantity * 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63 64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72 73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81 82 83 84 85 86 87 88 89 90 91 92 93 94 95 96 97 98 99 100
First impressions count. Guided by this belief, the Sportmachine 80 places an emphasis on comfort to help entry-level skiers fall in love with the sport. With a wider last and softer shell, it offers a plush, forgiving ride. Its reinforced sole and spine boost confidence and control by making it easier to initiate turns and transition between them. For incredible comfort, its liner is especially soft and can be heat molded for a personalized fit. And a dual entry instep makes it remarkably easy to get in and out of the boot. For a great time on the mountain, turn to the Sportmachine 80.
Sportmachine 65 W
Women's Lexa EST Snowboard Binding
Zone MIPS
Panterra 85 W Gw Ls Malva/Burgundi
Black Pearl 82
Ds Ax 120 GW Ms Black/Green
Kendo 88 Flat 20/21
Call or visit any of our three locations to learn more or get expert advice from others who share your passion for the powder. Or write to us 24/7 by filling out the short contact form on our website.
161 Quincy Ave.
335 Providence Hwy.
Hanson, MA
901 Winter St.
© 2022 Country Ski & Sport Inc.
Join our Birthday Club
1/2 price Appetizer just for Signing up!
AND Get a FREE Sundae on your Birthday!
Please send me my coupon today!
NO THANKS, I PREFER TO KEEP BROWSING