#Turban shop near me

[dtfbooks]

Polycotton Turbans Redefining Sikh Fashion Dynamics.

Unveiling the Resilience of Polycotton:

Polycotton turbans are making waves in Sikh fashion due to their robust nature. This blend of polyester and cotton brings together the best of both worlds, creating a turban material that not only exudes style but also stands the test of time. The durability of polycotton turbans makes them a practical and long-lasting choice for Sikh individuals who seek a balance between tradition and modernity.

Contemporary Appeal of Polycotton Turbans:

Beyond their resilience, polycotton turbans are riding the wave of contemporary trends. As fashion evolves, Sikhs are embracing the versatility of polycotton turbans, incorporating them seamlessly into both casual and formal settings. The fabric's adaptability to various styles and colors adds a fashionable touch to Sikh attire, making it a sought-after choice among the fashion-forward Sikh community.

Optimizing Sikh Turban Material:

Polycotton proves to be an optimal choice for Sikh turban material, meeting the community's unique needs. The blend's breathability and comfort factor align perfectly with the practical requirements of a turban. Sikhs find that polycotton turbans strike the right balance, providing comfort for daily wear while maintaining an elegant appearance that reflects the rich cultural heritage of the Sikh community.

Embracing the Future of Sikh Fashion:

In conclusion, the robust nature of polycotton turbans positions them as a trendsetter in Sikh fashion. This blend of tradition and innovation not only withstands the rigors of daily wear but also aligns seamlessly with the evolving style preferences of the Sikh community. As Sikhs embrace the contemporary allure of polycotton turbans, they are not just following a trend; they are setting a new standard for Sikh fashion.

[kvetchlandia]

Camille Ruf James Joyce, Zurich c.1918

“…they might as well try to stop the sun from rising tomorrow the sun shines for you he said the day we were lying among the rhododendrons on Howth head in the grey tweed suit and his straw hat the day I got him to propose to me yes first I gave him the bit of seedcake out of my mouth and it was leapyear like now yes 16 years ago my God after that long kiss I near lost my breath yes he said I was a flower of the mountain yes so we are flowers all a womans body yes that was one true thing he said in his life and the sun shines for you today yes that was why I liked him because I saw he understood or felt what a woman is and I knew I could always get round him and I gave him all the pleasure I could leading him on till he asked me to say yes and I wouldnt answer first only looked out over the sea and the sky I was thinking of so many things he didnt know of Mulvey and Mr Stanhope and Hester and father and old captain Groves and the sailors playing all birds fly and I say stoop and washing up dishes they called it on the pier and the sentry in front of the governors house with the thing round his white helmet poor devil half roasted and the Spanish girls laughing in their shawls and their tall combs and the auctions in the morning the Greeks and the jews and the Arabs and the devil knows who else from all the ends of Europe and Duke street and the fowl market all clucking outside Larby Sharons and the poor donkeys slipping half asleep and the vague fellows in the cloaks asleep in the shade on the steps and the big wheels of the carts of the bulls and the old castle thousands of years old yes and those handsome Moors all in white and turbans like kings asking you to sit down in their little bit of a shop and Ronda with the old windows of the posadas 2 glancing eyes a lattice hid for her lover to kiss the iron and the wineshops half open at night and the castanets and the night we missed the boat at Algeciras the watchman going about serene with his lamp and O that awful deepdown torrent O and the sea the sea crimson sometimes like fire and the glorious sunsets and the figtrees in the Alameda gardens yes and all the queer little streets and the pink and blue and yellow houses and the rosegardens and the jessamine and geraniums and cactuses and Gibraltar as a girl where I was a Flower of the mountain yes when I put the rose in my hair like the Andalusian girls used or shall I wear a red yes and how he kissed me under the Moorish wall and I thought well as well him as another and then I asked him with my eyes to ask again yes and then he asked me would I yes to say yes my mountain flower and first I put my arms around him yes and drew him down to me so he could feel my breasts all perfume yes and his heart was going like mad and yes I said yes I will Yes.“

–James Joyce, "Molly Bloom's Soliloquy" from “Ulysses” 1922

Happy Bloomsday, everyone.

[krsnaradhika]

A snippet from Krishavyayam hehe-

Small points to be noted before you get started—

Kamalnayani/ Hridayaa/ Mohini are the same person. The same oc has multiple names.

Mohini is also Hari here, as we know. Hence, Mohini and Mohini it is hehe-

Please if this offends you, tell me and I'll pull it down. This is purely fiction and does not intend to offend any religious beliefs and sentiments.

You'll find the whole book on Wattpad, so cheers! ✨

She was bewitching. The woman before whom demons swooned and caelitis were rendered wordless. Dark as the zenith hour of dusk and as radiant as a nymph who rose from the cerulean waves, she had her wife in a daze for she had poof-ed out of the blue (god).

Kamalnayani looked half amused, half moonstruck as Mohini grinned at her, winking notoriously. She sported a red and black lehenga of chiffon, diamantes stuck to the flowy fringes as well as her kohl-lined eyes and she swung a vial of mead in her willowy fingers— all too coquettishly.

Why, you ask?

"Because I last saw her so long ago," Hridayaa accentuated, sheepishly batting her eyes at Kanha and linking an arm of his to hers. The latter had mirth dancing in his very handsome features and it wouldn't be wrong to say he missed those precious moments either.

Ogres raced hither and thither for one touch of Mohini who swaggered through the waves, effortlessly charming all. Flowy tresses wrapped in the whiff of lotus and pearl ornaments dangled on her voluptuous form. She was beautiful and lethal. Woman and vulpine.

"And I miss her."

He snorted out a laugh, tendrils jumping up to his forehead to kiss them and then he obstructed them with a rake of his sculpted fingers, "I am literally right here, Hridayae."

"No, Mohini." She whined, almost hopping in her place but he disciplined her with quasi glare. Krishu pouted, seeming more of a child than a mother— as if demanding not a woman but a candy. "I want Mohini! She can give me excellent company these days and you know we're nearing the due date. Also she had a kid so she can give me great parenting tips meant for mothers. Kanha pleaseeeeee?"

"As my queen pleases."

And so, Mohini and Mohini were now face to face after ages— giggling vivaciously and maniacally at each other's sight.

"So where should I escort you now, wife?"

"Jhumka shopping!" Krishu tugged her, then waddling around to the brass and copper caskets to arrange for casual robes for herself. Mohini hummed and slipped herself in the quilts of the soigne bed, then spat her beverage right through her mauve lips out of pure whammy when the whims of Kamalnayani surprised her again.

"And we're hitched. We are begetting a kid through the blessing of an austere sage. I don't want anyone ogling at you in the marketplace, hmm? They don't have any right to."

She shortly inclined her head in a yes, inarticulate. Of course, they were married.

"Right. Only you do." The goddess simpered through the chalice sitting on her mouth. Then she clipped her bracelet against her dainty wrists, kissing where the pulse chanted the name of an archeress.

───  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───

"This for Bhadra Jiji, this for Lakshu Jiji and oh— Jambavati Jiji adores teals and turquoise!"

Oxidized silver bracelets, bronze armbands, floral rings and arabesque silks brimmed the tawny stalls on wheels as the two goddesses stirred past them, riveted by the grandeur of the city that was their latibule. Krisha and Mohini walked hand in hand, occasionally picking a bloom or two to profess their love in dramatic whispers as their secretive chortles became the fantasies of little girls who watched them from afar.

The ivory and maroon turban with pearl motifs caught her attention and then she waved her hand at her husband- urhm, wife.

Kamalnayani smiled at the lady vendor who beamed at her with gentle eyes. "What do you expect?"

"A healthy baby. Nothing more." She shrugged cordially, looking over her shoulder to find Mohini partially veiling herself as she peered at the bustling streets through the rich translucence of her raiments.

"She seems new here. Do you know her?" The genial old woman squinted, "Why would she do that? Does she not know it's not normal to mantle her face in Aryan practices?"

"She's new here, Kaaki," Hridayaa answered in a jiffy as Mohini sprang to catch up with her, flashing the gleam of her cloaked dagger to the bandits who gawked at her. The bunch inhaled sharply, going about their own businesses when they recognised her as a beguiling mirage. An elusive dream.

Women with lethal beauty were to be feared. It was doltish to trust her who had other eyes trailing on every gait she took.

"Mohini. She's enchanting and gravitates a lot of attention to herself she doesn't wish for."

"Oh. Your friend?"

"This is my wife, aunt." Mohini giggled instead as the seller flushed, then ducked her head while murmuring a small apology. "No worries."

"Exquisite couple, best wishes to both of you." She fished out a leaf of tamarind from her purse, then slid the velvet turban from the honey-eyed woman to the one whose smile was as sweet as it. Kanha— now Mohini, brought a pair of suryakanthi jhumkas and slipped in Hridayaa's lotus palms.

"Pretty moms make pretty babies."

Kaaki Sulochanaa— with eyes as pulchritudinous as her name— chuckled once again at the flushed women who squirmed a little closer to each other, surreptitiously stealing gazes and then shuffling in opposite ways, the presents never seeming enough.

"Oh, so you both aren't yet out of the mushy-mushy phase?"

───  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───

The dusk and the moon and their realm in Dvaravati wasn't exotic to their ardor for each other. It was the atelier of the art they painted each other in.

The scarlet roses and ivory jasmines embraced each other in the curls of the enchantress who sat between the legs of her wife, inclining her swan neck to the side as her eyes shut themselves when ivory fingertips skimmed through her scalps and skin. The sleek obsidian waterfalls and warm breaths of the woman of flames fondled her nape and Mohini wanted to flee into the aisles to escape from her namesake, but she knew the sacred smokes and ambrosia would chase her still. For the woman who carried their child was said to have seized the sense of a thousand men too around her.

"You are seducing me, good lady Kamya?" She crooned, her voice as soothing as the psithurism of the forest they promised to be each other's.

"Keep dreaming. I have always wanted to do your shringara," Agneyaa murmured lying through her teeth and when she felt a frisson run down below her touch she smirked. "Hesitate for nothing though, darling. I am quite a charmer I am told."

Mohini let out a shuddered breath, rolling her eyes and then she caught the hand of Mohini who was yet sniggering at her. "Enough now. Your skills are laudable. I have never looked this beautiful." Her gaze traversed to the mirror which gaped at two women like long lost lovers. The stones of lapis lazuli and rubies and diamonds were bestrewed upon her lithe physique like stars on the ether. A spark birthed in her guts and she was an art. An art to be ravished by her lover.

Kamalnayani giggled and pressed a chaste kiss to the cheeks of that beauty who turned pink. Then she filled the dips of the curves of Mohini's spine with her fingers binding the kamarbandh, husking near her earlobes, "Lies."

She stifled the throes of her heart and an amaranthine smile stayed on her visage. As they multiplied and she was unwavered, she was the epitome of every mother. Mohini whisked around and pulled her in a slow dance, unhurried and buoyant as their limbs swayed in poised waves— grinning as they found forelsket again and again.

Afterall, nightmares were dreams too. The heart of Keshava was living a vision of a lover for now.

───  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───

Kanha found blue roses, azure water lilies and peacock feathers all tied together by a string as a gauzy navy robe enveloped them. "They reminded me of you, love." The whimsical note read, stuck to the spruce wood table and he grinned plucking them from it.

"And oh, I loved being with Mohini."

He was a fuchsia yet again.

The setting was an atelier of a picturesque art in making— born of the love of an archeress and the chakradhaari.

[eleonorasimoncini]

…I love flowers I’d love to have the whole place swimming in roses God of heaven there’s nothing like nature the wild mountains then the sea and the waves rushing then the beautiful country with fields of oats and wheat and all kinds of things and all the fine cattle going about that would do your heart good to see rivers and lakes and flowers all sorts of shapes and smells and colours springing up even out of the ditches primroses and violets nature it is as for them saying there’s no God I wouldn’t give a snap of my two fingers for all their learning why don’t they go and create something I often asked him atheists or whatever they call themselves go and wash the cobbles off themselves first then they go howling for the priest and they dying and why why because they’re afraid of hell on account of their bad conscience ah yes I know them well who was the first person in the universe before there was anybody that made it all who ah that they don’t know neither do I so there you are they might as well try to stop the sun from rising tomorrow the sun shines for you he said the day we were lying among the rhododendrons on Howth head in the grey tweed suit and his straw hat the day I got him to propose to me yes first I gave him the bit of seedcake out of my mouth and it was leapyear like now yes 16 years ago my God after that long kiss I near lost my breath yes he said was a flower of the mountain yes so we are flowers all a woman’s body yes that was one true thing he said in his life and the sun shines for you today yes that was why I liked him because I saw he understood or felt what a woman is and I knew I could always get round him and I gave him all the pleasure I could leading him on till he asked me to say yes and I wouldn’t answer first only looked out over the sea and the sky I was thinking of so many things he didn’t know of Mulvey and Mr Stanhope and Hester and father and old captain Groves and the sailors playing all birds fly and I say stoop and washing up dishes they called it on the pier and the sentry in front of the governors house with the thing round his white helmet poor devil half roasted and the Spanish girls laughing in their shawls and their tall combs and the auctions in the morning the Greeks and the Jews and the Arabs and the devil knows who else from all the ends of Europe and Duke street and the fowl market all clucking outside Larby Sharans and the poor donkeys slipping half asleep and the vague fellows in the cloaks asleep in the shade on the steps and the big wheels of the carts of the bulls and the old castle thousands of years old yes and those handsome Moors all in white and turbans like kings asking you to sit down in their little bit of a shop and Ronda with the old windows of the posadas glancing eyes a lattice hid for her lover to kiss the iron and the wineshops half open at night and the castanets and the night we missed the boat at Algeciras the watchman going about serene with his lamp and O that awful deepdown torrent O and the sea the sea crimson sometimes like fire and the glorious sunsets and the figtrees in the Alameda gardens yes and all the queer little streets and pink and blue and yellow houses and the rosegardens and the jessamine and geraniums and cactuses and Gibraltar as a girl where I was a Flower of the mountain yes when I put the rose in my hair like the Andalusian girls used or shall I wear a red yes and how he kissed me under the Moorish wall and I thought well as well him as another and then I asked him with my eyes to ask again yes and then he asked me would I yes to say yes my mountain flower and first I put my arms around him yes and drew him down Jo me so he could feel my breasts all perfume yes and his heart was going like mad and yes I said yes I will Yes.

James Joyce

[kousaka-ayumu]

Christmas fic Day 2: KalRid

Background ships: Ace X Malleus, Jamil X Azul, Deuce X Jade, Neige X Vil.

Ever since Riddle's parents are divorced, the red haired boy began living with his father, and surprisingly he was a kind, laid back and sweet man the opposite of his asshole of a mother.

When he met Kalim Al Asim, son of the Asim family, Dorm Leader of Scarabia and last but not least his crush.

You see Riddle have a some sort of crush on the white haired boy ever since their first year at NRC.

He always thought that Kalim was the sun to his moon, the light to his darkness, and his shining starlight.

He was upset that Kalim was oblivious to everything around him, even when he tried to confess his feelings for the white haired boy.

But what he loves about Kalim is that he's a kind and passionate boy who was always there for his friends.

And he has to wait for the right time to cofess his feelings to the white haired boy and avoiding his "mother".

--------------------------------------------------

It was Christmas and everyone was spending time with their loved ones Malleus invited Ace to the Valley of Thorns, Azul went to a fancy restaurant with Jamil(Well forced) , and having a double date with Deuce and Jade, and finally Vil and Neige we're shooting a film with both of them as protagonis.

Everyone was having a time of their lives but Riddle was in distress. He had no idea on how to confess his feelings for Kalim.

He had to calm himself down and try to recollect himself.

He decided to confess his feelings for Kalim on Christmas day with a help of a certain Ace of Hearts soldier.

--------------------------------------------------

At the Rose Queendom.

Riddle was at the train station waiting for the white haired boy to arrive with a present in his hands.

'Thank you Ace for giving me an advice for it.' The red haired boy thought to himself, a cheerful voice yelled out "Riddle!" Just then Kalim arrived wearing his winter outfit. Riddle blushed at the sight 'Holy great seven he is so adorable!' Riddle thought as he saw Riddle unfortunately the red haired boy has been staring at Kalim for too long that the white haired boy waved his hand at the red haired boy's face.

Riddle have shook his head and saw Kalim "So, wanna walk somewhere?" He said Kalim nodded, the 2 walked towards the district of the Rose Queendom, spending some time together at the cafe, shopping some clothes together, ect.

When it's evening and the 2 of them we're near a Christmas tree that was decorated with fairy lights, Riddle took a deep breath.

"Kalim." He said giving out his present to the white haired boy "Here." He said, Kalim opened up the present and it was a black turban-like bandana with red rose patterns and gold lining, the white haired boy gasp in amazement at the present.

"Oh my god, I love it!" He said happily, doing his signature smile.

Riddle felt like his heart had burst from Kalim, "Thank you Riddle!" He said only to receive a kiss from the red haired boy.

The red haired boy looked at the white haired boy who was shocked from the sudden kiss "I-I'm so sorry, it just that y-you're too cute that I wanted to kiss you so badly-I-I mean-" But before the red haired boy could say anything Kalim kissed him on the cheek "I feel the same way too Riddle."

The red haired boy was so flustered by Kalim's confession that he nuzzled unto the white haired boy's chest "Boyfriends?" The red haired boy said, "Yup, boyfriends." Kalim said hugging Riddle.

❃The End❃

[brooklynislandgirl]

3. Describe your muse’s ideal holiday.

A Little Bit Of This and That || Accepting Beth is not sure in what sense Cory means the word, one of the things she actually hates about English. Or maybe her own understanding of it which is to say there's something lacking; not the wordage per se or poor quality of education but in the technicality. And it is especially bad when they're surrounded by a lack of context. The room is bright and shaded in pastels, the recliners large and padded. Turbans in their hair, fluffy bathrobes adorning them as they sit side by side with avocado and clay face-masks, while currently receiving matching pedicures. Thankfully, the much needed day of pampering gives Beth a chance to think about the question, break it down into its constituent parts, and reassemble into something comfortable in the space of drawn out seconds. "Well, Andy an' I always plan f' goin' on a world tour. Start in Hampsta-dam..." She pauses, eyes narrowing at the corners as she corrects herself. "...ah... Amb... Ams ...you know, da place where is da Hague, capital of Neddahlan'. He wan' visit certain...coffee shops, an' I wan stay see Van Gogh museum. From Dere, we cruise da Danube, or mebbe fly t' Moscow in time f's see da Bolshoi ballet. Den cut to Africa, cause we gonna hike up Moun' Kilimanjaro. Surf ovah New Zealan' way, whole bunch'a t'ings, I guess. Except he's not really up for it now, prefers to stay here or drive so it limit chances, ya know?"

Not a single word is spoken harshly, no ounce of condemnation lives between the things she says. If anything her eyes gleam brightly, she is the portrait of a woman who can see no wrong in one particular man no matter what he says or does or how he might accidentally crush fragile dreams when he isn't careful. He might be the only person to be able to claim that with any surety.

After a moment though, Beth grows softer and somewhat shyer; whenever asked about herself she becomes somewhat apologetic, her eyes lowering to her nails in lieu of coffee or wine. "More personally? Any time I can ge' away f' da sea. Even if it smoo'd like glass, impossible surf, jus' havin' her near's a comfort. Could sit on a deck, wrap in a blanket, starin' at da waves an' lissen t' her sing me her songs. Warmer times, her whisper...beckons. Tells me f' visit, t' be out in her arms an' she'll wash away every kine dat nevah feel right. Sea loves me sometimes as much as Andy does. Sometimes more. Sorta the same way I feel sometimes, lissen f' Eddie Vedder. Which I t'ink is why I love his music so much." She pauses a moment though it's almost not much of a difference. She isn't loud any more than she takes up space; she doesn't. "So yeah, somewhere... a beach house, where I can go out to waddah's edge or bring one of my boards or mebbe more dan one. Somewhere quiet an' far away from people. Might lissen f' Pearl Jam on repeat, with some basic food stores. I'd like f' catch up on readin' or knittin'. Spend time in da garden wi' rich soil benea'd my fingers an' toes. Somet'ing simple, harmless." ~*~ Beth honestly dreams of living a quiet and useful existence, where she does more good for the earth and particularly the sea than she wants the life she has. It isn't that she's got spoiled rich kid syndrome; it's more a reflection of her cultural identity, personal beliefs, and a desire to get away from the Admiral as best she can, and everything the man stands for. She'd dearly love to have enough space to take in strays, whether human children or animals. And her ideal 'vacation' are small slices of that life.

[turbantraditions]

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[serendipnpipity]

I love flowers I’d love to have the whole place swimming in roses God of heaven there’s nothing like nature the wild mountains then the sea and the waves rushing then the beautiful country with fields of oats and wheat and all kinds of things and all the fine cattle going about that would do your heart good to see rivers and lakes and flowers all sorts of shapes and smells and colours springing up even out of the ditches primroses and violets nature it is as for them saying there’s no God I wouldn’t give a snap of my two fingers for all their learning why don’t they go and create something I often asked him atheists or whatever they call themselves go and wash the cobbles off themselves first then they go howling for the priest and they dying and why why because they’re afraid of hell on account of their bad conscience ah yes I know them well who was the first person in the universe before there was anybody that made it all who ah that they don’t know neither do I so there you are they might as well try to stop the sun from rising tomorrow the sun shines for you he said the day we were lying among the rhododendrons on Howth head in the grey tweed suit and his straw hat the day I got him to propose to me yes first I gave him the bit of seedcake out of my mouth and it was leapyear like now yes 16 years ago my God after that long kiss I near lost my breath yes he said was a flower of the mountain yes so we are flowers all a woman’s body yes that was one true thing he said in his life and the sun shines for you today yes that was why I liked him because I saw he understood or felt what a woman is and I knew I could always get round him and I gave him all the pleasure I could leading him on till he asked me to say yes and I wouldn’t answer first only looked out over the sea and the sky I was thinking of so many things he didn’t know of Mulvey and Mr Stanhope and Hester and father and old captain Groves and the sailors playing all birds fly and I say stoop and washing up dishes they called it on the pier and the sentry in front of the governors house with the thing round his white helmet poor devil half roasted and the Spanish girls laughing in their shawls and their tall combs and the auctions in the morning the Greeks and the Jews and the Arabs and the devil knows who else from all the ends of Europe and Duke street and the fowl market all clucking outside Larby Sharans and the poor donkeys slipping half asleep and the vague fellows in the cloaks asleep in the shade on the steps and the big wheels of the carts of the bulls and the old castle thousands of years old yes and those handsome Moors all in white and turbans like kings asking you to sit down in their little bit of a shop and Ronda with the old windows of the posadas glancing eyes a lattice hid for her lover to kiss the iron and the wineshops half open at night and the castanets and the night we missed the boat at Algeciras the watchman going about serene with his lamp and O that awful deepdown torrent O and the sea the sea crimson sometimes like fire and the glorious sunsets and the figtrees in the Alameda gardens yes and all the queer little streets and pink and blue and yellow houses and the rosegardens and the jessamine and geraniums and cactuses and Gibraltar as a girl where I was a Flower of the mountain yes when I put the rose in my hair like the Andalusian girls used or shall I wear a red yes and how he kissed me under the Moorish wall and I thought well as well him as another and then I asked him with my eyes to ask again yes and then he asked me would I yes to say yes my mountain flower and first I put my arms around him yes and drew him down Jo me so he could feel my breasts all perfume yes and his heart was going like mad and yes I said yes I will Yes.

I have no idea who you are, anon, who chose to send me Molly Bloom's soliloquy by James Joyce at this hour. Yes, I read it all, thinking surely this is a joke and somewhere in the middle it will devolve into something awful. Or possibly this was the flower-laden work of a press-in-the-middle-of-the-word-predictor-buttons-on-your-phone kind of post. But imagine my pleasant surprise when I finished and looked it up to find that you felt prompted to gift me actual poetry, right into my inbox like a real letter-sender would in days of old.

Thank you anon. Have a lovely day, wherever and whenever you are!

[charlesandmiranda]

Kyoto part 2: Nishiki Market Food and Drink, Liquor Museum (2/10 evening)

Nishiki Market is one our of first memories of Japan from our first trip in 2017. Similar to Tsukiji, it's a fish and produce market, but unlike Tsukiji, it's a long covered walkway of sellers and shops along the inside. Because it isn't exclusively considered a fish market, it's a good place to try out dishes and snack as you go, as well as pick up food for dinner.

We started with a quail egg stuffed baby octopus and a small beer, then grabbed a bottle of sake to bring home after tasting some local sake. We found a section that goes into the buildings on either side and has a bunch of smaller stalls with specific food and standing area for eating, and tried everything we thought might be nice. These pork gyoza (steamed or fried dumplings, in this case fried) are the best I have ever had. The stall also had great karaage (fried chicken). Another stall carried several different kinds of locally flavored beers and highballs using whisky and shochu. We tried matcha beer, which was very refreshing, and strawberry blended whisky highball. Also pictured but we did not try was beef sashimi and sushi and tempura.

We did, however, have turban in the shell and grilled tuna with garlic. Before we left, there was a stall probably geared to first time visitors who are unfamiliar with sake that had glasses of sake for 100 yen, around 75 cents. They were tasty, too.

I placed a lot of markers on our map from the last few years of watching videos and seeing posts about different bars and restaurants, not expecting to make it to all of them but considering stopping in if we were nearby. Near the market is a bar called Kyoto Liquor Museum, which is more of a top end Western style cocktail and whisky bar than an izakaya. When we got there, we were one of the only customers, and the bartender asked us to sit somewhere that we we would be close to him so we could chat. He was a recent resident of Kyoto, having moved for his new wife, and originally from Turkey. He was very knowledgeable, and a little opinionated, about whisky and that was helpful for discovering new whiskies. I tried several that would have put me into the easy $100+ bill situation in the US, but ours was around $50. One was specifically bottled for the bar.

We wanted to grab a real dinner, and there is a very well known omurice (omelette over rice) restaurant nearby, but it has been featured on some well knownYouTube channels, so it's now very popular, reservation only yadda yadda. We didn't plan ahead to get one, and that's ok. One of my takeaways from this trip is that if it's been talked about a bunch on the English speaking internet, it's going to be difficult to try. We came across a small shop that served an original version of okonomiyaki, a grilled savory pancake made from cabbage and batter than can include anything from bacon to seafood and cheese. This shop served negiyaki and used a lot of spring onion (negi = ねぎ = onion). It was delicious. The tofu steak was also really good, grilled tofu with sauce on top.

On the way home we passed a liquor store that carried large cans of the sake we drank when we got engaged and this giant bottle of Japanese whisky for somewhere between $6 to 7 dollars. I cannot explain her mischievous face. Miranda got the glass bottle of sake with the sakura flower in it, as expected, because it's cute.

To be clear, we did NOT buy that bottle of whisky.

--Charles

[yellowturbanindia]

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[45minutenap]

for you he said the day we were lying among the rohedendrons on howth head in the grey tweed suit and his straw hat the day i got him to propose to me yes first i gave him the bit of seedcake out of my mouth and it was leap year like now yes 16 years ago my god after that long kiss i near lost my breath yes he said i was a flower of the mountain yes so we are flowers all a womans body yes that was one true thing he said in his life and the sun shines for you today yes that was why i liked him because i saw he understood or felt what a woman is and i knew i could always get round him and i gave him all the pleasure i could leading him on till he asked me to say yes and i wouldnt answer first only looked out over the sea and the sky i was thinking of so many things he didnt know of mulvey and mr stanhope and hester and father and old captain groves and the sailors playing all birds fly and i say stoop and washing up dishes they called it on the pier and the sentry in front of the governers house with the thing round his white helmet poor half devil half roasted and the spanish girls laughing in their shawls and their tall combs and the auctions in the morning the greeks and the jews and the arabs and the devil knows who else from all the ends of europe and duke street and the fowl market all clucking outside larby sharons and the poor donkeys slipping half asleep and the vague fellows in the cloaks asleep in the shade on the steps and the big wheels of the carts of the bulls and the old castle thousands of years old yes and those handsome moors all in white and turbans like kings asking you to sit down in their little bit of a shop and ronda with the old windows of the posadas glancing eyes a lattice hid for her lover to kiss the iron and the wineshops half open at night and the castanets and the nigth we missed the boat at algeciras the watchman going about serene with his lamp and o that awful deepdown torrent o and the sea the sea crimson sometimes like fire and the glorious sunsets and the figtrees in the alameda gardens yes and all the queer little streets and pink and blue and yellow houses and the rosegardens and the jessamine and geraniums and cactuses and gibraltar as a girl where i was a flower of the mountain yes when i put the rose in my hair like the andalusian girls used or shall i wear a red yes and how he kissed me under the moorish wall and i thought well as well him as another and then i asked him with my eyes to ask again yes and then he asked me would i yes to say yes my mountain flower and first i put my arms around him yes and drew him down to me so he could feel my breasts all perfume yes and his heart was going like mad and yes i said yes i will yes

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[ultra-maha-us]

Considerations For Purchasing Cancer Wigs to Cover Hair Loss

When you are first told you will have to have chemotherapy you probably think about losing all of your hair. To many people, men and women, this is the most terrible thing that is a result of the treatment. No how many times they are assured their hair will almost always grow back, it still scares them. To many people their hair is their beauty. Because of this there are businesses that sell cancer wigs. Cancer wigs are made slightly different from the wigs you see displayed in wig shops or beauty supply places. Cancer wigs are made specifically for cancer patients.

Of course not all patients will want to purchase a wig. Some may opt to use head scarves or turbans. Some people will opt to have their head shaved, especially a male patient. Some woman may choose this option too. There are many varieties of head coverings that are made to protect the head during and after chemotherapy. It is not the hair loss that is the concern but the Cranial prosthesis provider near me effect of sun and cold on the scalp after treatment. The head is very sensitive and really needs some protection.

If a wig is desired, there are many choices here also.

Wigs are made in three ways, first, a custom wig, which is the most expensive. Then there is a handmade wig where the strands are knotted on a cap of some kind, generally cotton or something that can breathe. The third way of manufacture is machine made. This is the least expensive. Skeins of hair are sewn together in a straight line then assembled into a wig. Generally the hair style is also assembled into the wig and little can be done to change that hair style.

Wigs are made from different materials also. They are made from natural hair which is the most expensive. Then there are wigs made from synthetic materials and then there are blends which combine some nature hair and some synthetic material. If price is no object you might consider a custom made wig of all natural hair. But first consider that you won't be wearing it forever. Hair does grow back. It may take three to ten months or more but it will grow back.

Of course the hair style has some significance also. Someone with long hair who has grown it all her life will probably hate to lose any of her precious hair. This person may consider cutting their hair short before the treatment starts so they get used to a new look and perhaps help with any self esteem issues. There is strength in deciding to cut the hair short because it takes self-determination to do it. And this is one step to beginning the process of healing.

[onlinesikhstore]

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