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- The latest possible time before an event
eleventh hour: the latest possible moment; "money became available at the eleventh hour"; "at the last minute the government changed the rules"
just before a deadline; at the last minute; "last-minute arrangements"
Marcin Rozynek (born May 16, 1971 in Zywiec) – Polish rock vocalist, songs' author, music producer. He released six albums, two of them were recorded with friend band Atmosphere. He cooperated with Grzegorz Ciechowski.
- a formation of aircraft in flight
- an instance of traveling by air; "flying was still an exciting adventure for him"
- Shoot (wildfowl) in flight
- shoot a bird in flight
- (in soccer, cricket, etc.) Deliver (a ball) with well-judged trajectory and pace
- (roman) relating to or characteristic of people of Rome; "Roman virtues"; "his Roman bearing in adversity"; "a Roman nose"
- An industrial city in northwestern Georgia, on the Coosa River; pop. 34,980
- the leadership of the Roman Catholic Church
- Used allusively to refer to the Roman Catholic Church
- capital and largest city of Italy; on the Tiber; seat of the Roman Catholic Church; formerly the capital of the Roman Republic and the Roman Empire
- The capital of Italy, situated in the west central part of the country, on the Tiber River, about 16 miles (25 km) inland; pop. 2,791,000. According to tradition, the ancient city was founded by Romulus (after whom it is named) in 753 bc on the Palatine Hill; as it grew it spread to the other six hills of Rome (Aventine, Caelian, Capitoline, Esquiline, and Quirinal). Rome was made capital of a unified Italy in 1871
* 35 (thirty-five) is the natural number following 34?... (source Wikipedia.com)
* 35 mm film is the basic film gauge most commonly used for both analog photography and motion pictures
* In Ancient Rome, 35 is the age of a man in his prime, at which he was eligible to become a consul.
I'm writing this note with a bit of sadness. Today is my last full day in Tokyo. I feel like I just got here. I was just getting warmed up. On the opposite end, I am beaming with contentment and satisfaction. Veni, vidi, vici once more!
It was just a few months ago that I felt 'called' to Tokyo. I thought about traveling to Beijing and Thailand. I thought about traveling to a few great cities in Europe once more. Japan isn't the sexy pick by any means, but it was absolutely the right pick.
Solo travel, while cool in its planning phases, becomes daunting the closer the date draws near. You can plan it to greatest detail possible given the information available to you. But, the reality is that you really don't know until you hit the ground. Depending on where you go you don't know the language. You may not know the landscape. Or, you may have under or overestimated the time involved to do something. Or, it can be as simple as not planning for the weather. I've run into all of the above.
But, that's the point. If it were easy then I wouldn't do it. My 10-day solo jaunt from Madrid to Rome to Florence and Athens taught me that I must persist, that I must keep moving regardless of the circumstances. Solo travel is much like a mission. One, two or even six unplanned events cannot disrupt the mission. The unfamiliar is no longer a barrier. They're simply challenges to be won. I don't care what it takes. If and when it comes down to the success of the mission, I will force the issue. I simply will not be stopped.
I've learned to apply those principles to my life. Because of that, I am very clear on who I am as a person, both personally and professionally, what I want and don't want, and what I will and will not accept. I make no apologies. I'm not trying to step on anyone to achieve my mission. But, if I have to run through someone, I will. It should never come as a surprise to anyone. I make myself very clear to anyone that I will do whatever is necessary to complete my mission.
Life is simply too short to simply accept what people give you, and for them to dictate when you can and cannot. It's up to each of us to have the courage and fortitude to decide what is important to you and what you want to do. The message to those who think they can dictate is "This is what I have decided to do. It is not something for you to consider. There will be no compromises." I've found that people often respect another's resolve once it has been articulated and stood up for.
I believe that's what my calling to Japan represented. This country can be very unkind to those who have difficulty adapting and / or are easily discouraged. Very little here is written in English. I think much of it is intentional. Regardless, I didn't let the language barrier stop me.
For one full day, I was very uncertain about whether this would be a pleasant trip. I had to travel from Tokyo to Hakone to Kyoto. I underestimated what was involved to travel from Tokyo to Hakone. All I cared about was seeing Mt. Fuji. My patience was put to the test. Doubts started to cloud my purpose. But, I made it to Hakone successfully.
I didn't get to see Mt. Fuji because of the weather, but I did get to rest at her foot. That's good enough for me. While resting, I developed a bond with someone that I never felt very comfortable with. This Internet thing is pretty crazy. Resting at the foot of Mt. Fuji at 3:30am while having a cool conversation with someone stateside who is on a flight at 30,000+ feet is pretty surreal!
I moved on to Kyoto early the next morning. I couldn't allow the weather to delay me any further. I made it to rainy Kyoto. I arrived very agitated because I got off at the wrong train station and ended up walking in circles in the rain for 45 mins because I couldn't understand the train lines or stops. Everything was in Japanese. People from Kyoto are very accommodating, however. The train conductor saw me and left his post to ask me which stop I wanted to go to. I told him and he pointed it out on the rail map. That's when bowing in the Japanese custom took on meaning for me.
The Sun Is Rising In the Land Of The Rising Sun
The hotel staff in Kyoto were very pleasant and considerate. The hotel concierge, a woman, greeted my taxi. She saw that I was drenched from the rain. But, her smile, and the desk clerk making every effort to provide exceptional service quickly made me forget about the lack of English and proper direction for the non-Japanese speaker. My hotel room wasn't very nice, but it didn't matter. These are very nice people.
I set o
HARRY CLARKE - St Michan
HOW SAINT MICHAN GOT HIS NAME
(Or: why the city of Dublin has two names in Irish)
Here is the story of the life of St. Michan of Dublin.
He was a companion and friend of St. Aonghus of Tallaght. Michan was not baptised with the name Michan. His name is a secret lost in a sad tale of the jealousy of Saint Aonghus. It is known only to the bishop of Glendalough who swore to Saint Aonghus that he would never divulge it to anybody other than his successor. And sadly, that secret died with Bishop William Piro, who was the last Bishop of Glendalough, and none but his ghost can ever choose to let it be known again.
The monk that we now know as Saint Michan was very wise and was known by the families of Leinster and Meath for his great holiness and wisdom. He spent long hours of every day in prayer. Wherever he was he brought the gentlest of peace and the calmness of joy. The young monks in Tallaght were always encouraged by his gentle ways and many of them sested that he, rather than Aonghus, should be the Abbot. The elder monks prophesised that he would be the father of a great community of saints. This irked Aonghus who was a jealous of both his friend's sanctity as well as his great renown.
But the monk was a quiet man of simple life and had no desire to take his friend’s place. To avoid a split in the community he left the confines of the monastery and embraced the life of a hermit. The monastery at Tallaght had lands all along the River Poddle to where it meets the Liffey at a place called an Dubh Linn or the Dark Pool. It was his friend Saint Aonghus that sested this remote place for the holy monk to live his life as a hermit. An old elm tree stood near the Dark Pool and marked the end of the monastery’s lands. Saint Canice of Kilkenny had planted it to mark a boundary dispute with the monastery at Finglas in the time of Saint Maelruain. It was here that the holy monk chose to live as a hermit. To prevent further divisions within the Tallaght monastery, and again on the advice of his friend, the holy monk took a vow of silence until the death of Saint Aonghus. Aonghus was happy with this plan. With the holy monk’s name held secret and his voice silent he would never again be considered for the position of abbot. In time both the holy monk and his name would be forgotten and the unknown silence would help him to vanish without a trace.
They travelled together Glendalough where the holy monk took his vow in secret with Saint Aodhan of Glendalough. In the monastery chapel took the vow in the fashion of the Romans. But Aonghus was a Gael, and he knew the customs of his people well. He demanded under the solemn bond of his ancestors that the holy monk would not utter a word as long as Aonghus was alive . Should any word issue from the mouth of the holy monk before the day after Aonghus’ funeral he would surely die, and die in mortal sin at that. Such a fearsome outcome ensured that the saintly monk would never utter a word and lose the crown of salvation. And although the holy monk knew that this condition was unjust and unfair he could not utter a word of protest without dying in miserable sin.
With Aodhan’s blessing they travelled in silence back to the monastery in Tallaght. And, in the dead of that same night, when all the monks were rising to go to the church, the holy monk slipped silently away and walked alone to the Dark pool.
There were many Gaelic herdsmen with their families living in this area. Their huts and dwellings were scattered along the southern bank of the river Liffey. They were simple folk. They made their homes by weaving the river mud with the strong reeds that grew along the edge of the Dark Pool. At night they would gather together and light a fire on the slope above the Dark Pool where they would sing and tell stories. They often asked the holy monk whether he too would come to join in with them and maybe tell them a tale – but he shook his head sadly and went quietly on his way each time. As we have already said; he was a man of great wisdom and had many fine tales to tell!
To avoid the temptation of breaking his vow and incurring the wrath of the unjust bond, he decided to avoid human company altogether. He decided to build a refuge to the wild north of the river Liffey in the place we now know as Oxmanstown. There were still large tracts of forest in Fingall further north. In wintertime hungry wolves would stray from the forests and pick off the sheep that grazed on the slopes of the river. Nobody would live there; only strong, healthy herdsmen armed with bows and slingshots ever ventured beyond the river’s natural protection. Every morning the armed herdsmen would bring their sheep over on small boats not unlike the currachs of the west. The little boats were flat but sat high in the water. They made from wattle and leather. The work of bringing the sheep on and off the little rafts was slow and could not be done whenever a wolf appeared. One man sested tying th
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