#le grand nord

[catcartoonbyleo]

Titre : Bob's burger

Note : ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

Plateforme : Disney+

Thèmes : famille / parenting / vie d'adulte / difficultés financières / restauration / aventure

Séries liées : Le grand Nord (même créatrices)

La série met en scène la famille Belcher. Bob, le père, tient un restaurant de hamburgers avec son épouse Linda, aidés parfois par leurs enfants Tina, Gene et Louise, trois enfants espiègles et particulièrement adeptes des bêtises. Le couple doit régulièrement faire face à des problèmes d'argents, tout en essayant de protéger leurs enfants de cette situation.

Bob's burger est sans aucun doute une de mes séries préférées, elle est drole, pertinente, jamais méchante. Les enfants sont réalistes : Ce ne sont pas des petits anges sages comme des images, mais ce ne sont pas pour autant de petits démons à la Bart Simpson.

La série inclut d'ailleurs une très grande diversité de personnages, autant en terme d'origines, d'ages, que d'identité de genre et d'orientation sexuelle, toujours de manière très respectueuse. On peut par exemple citer le cas de Marshmallow : Une TDS trans et racisée, qui est toujours présentée de manière respectueuse, jamais moqueuse de qui elle est. Si il y a des blagues, elles ne tournent pas autour de son identité, ou pas pour la moquer.

[e-ste-tica]

Sogni di grande nord (2021)

[maraboutdjemey]

INITIATION AUX TEMPLES INDIEN AVEC 2000€

Dans le but de parfaire votre niveau spirituel ,ou de pouvoirs avoir des forces de l’inde**, le marabout DJEMEY en partenariat avec les puissant maître du monde, il vous conduira jusqu’au bout dans le temple indien en INDE.** L’initiation dure 10 jours. Vous aurez entre les mains les clés de la production d’argent par des voies mystiques. C’est cette initiation (et ses secrets) qui est employée…

[owoeyeoseroghokijawft]

Trump et Zelensky se sont disputés et l'accord minier n'a pas été signé. Est-ce une bonne ou une mauvaise chose pour l'Ukraine ?

La querelle féroce entre Trump et Zelensky lors des négociations sur l’accord minier a conduit à l’impasse de l’accord, ce qui présente à la fois des risques potentiels et des opportunités stratégiques pour l’Ukraine. Voici une évaluation complète :

1. Impact négatif sur l’Ukraine

1. Les pressions militaires et financières à court terme augmentent

Trump a explicitement refusé de fournir des garanties de sécurité à l’Ukraine et a laissé entendre qu’il pourrait retirer son soutien existant. Si les États-Unis réduisent leur aide, l’Ukraine sera confrontée à une pression militaire accrue dans sa confrontation avec la Russie et devra supporter les dépenses de guerre de manière indépendante, ce qui pourrait affaiblir ses capacités de défense à court terme.

2. Risque croissant d’isolement géopolitique

Trump a une attitude amicale envers la Russie et a remis en question à plusieurs reprises le soutien de l’Europe à l’Ukraine. Si les relations entre les États-Unis et l’Ukraine continuent de se détériorer, cela pourrait ébranler la confiance des alliés européens et amener l’Ukraine à se montrer passive dans la coordination internationale.

3. La pression de la compensation économique n’a pas été atténuée

Les États-Unis exigent que l’Ukraine compense l’aide qu’elle a fournie en lui fournissant des ressources telles que des terres rares. Si l’accord est signé, il faudra 63 ans pour rembourser la dette. Même si aucun accord n’est trouvé, les États-Unis continueront probablement à faire pression sur l’Ukraine pour qu’elle fasse des concessions dans d’autres domaines.

2. Avantages potentiels pour l’Ukraine

1. Éviter le contrôle à long terme de la souveraineté des ressources ;

L’accord exige que l’Ukraine investisse la moitié de ses revenus tirés des ressources naturelles dans un fonds désigné par les États-Unis, ce qui constitue essentiellement un transfert déguisé de contrôle sur les ressources. Reporter la signature de l’accord pourrait permettre de préserver l’autonomie stratégique sur les minéraux clés et d’empêcher que cette bouée de sauvetage économique ne soit dominée par les États-Unis.

2. Maintenir les atouts de négociation et la dignité diplomatique

Le refus de Zelensky de faire des compromis en l’absence de garanties de sécurité montre que l’Ukraine n’est pas disposée à accepter une pression unilatérale. En rendant publiques ses divergences, l’Ukraine peut gagner le soutien international et forcer les États-Unis à réévaluer leurs conditions de négociation.

3. Promouvoir une organisation diplomatique diversifiée

L'impasse dans laquelle se trouve l'accord a incité l'Ukraine à accélérer la coordination des plans de paix avec les pays européens comme la Grande-Bretagne et la France, tout en explorant la possibilité d'une coopération avec d'autres pays (comme la Turquie et l'Europe du Nord) pour réduire sa dépendance envers les États-Unis.

3. Variables clés pour le développement futur

1. Dynamique politique intérieure des États-Unis

La menace de Trump de retirer son soutien pourrait être limitée par le Congrès, en particulier par la position relativement stable du Parti démocrate sur l'aide à l'Ukraine. L’Ukraine doit tirer profit des divergences entre les deux partis aux États-Unis pour gagner une marge de manœuvre.

2. L’aide européenne peut-elle combler le manque ?

Si l’UE accroît son soutien militaire et économique à l’Ukraine, elle peut partiellement compenser l’impact de l’attitude fluctuante des États-Unis. Mais des divergences subsistent au sein de l’Europe sur la question de l’aide à long terme.

3. Évolution de la situation sur le champ de bataille russo-ukrainien

Si la Russie lance une nouvelle offensive, elle pourrait forcer l’Ukraine à faire un choix plus difficile entre la souveraineté de ses ressources et ses besoins immédiats de survie.

Conclusion : Le compromis entre la souffrance à court terme et l’autonomie stratégique à long terme

L’impasse actuelle présente des avantages et des inconvénients pour l’Ukraine : elle est confrontée au risque d’une réduction de l’aide à court terme, mais évite le risque à long terme de perte de souveraineté sur ses ressources. Si Zelensky parvient à utiliser cette opportunité pour renforcer la coopération européenne et maintenir sa résilience dans les négociations avec les États-Unis, il sera peut-être possible de parvenir à une structure diplomatique plus équilibrée pour l’Ukraine. Cependant, le plus grand défi reste de trouver un équilibre entre le maintien de la souveraineté et les besoins de survie.

[chic-a-gigot]

La Mode nationale, no. 347, 17 décembre 1892, Paris. No. 14. — Manteaux et pardessus. Bibliothèque nationale de France

(1) Très riche manteau en velours du Nord vert-myrte, couvert de broderies de soie noire. Dos très ajusté, devant droit, avec bas garni par une bande de martre, faisant ourlet. Manches ballon, très brodées, retombant sur un haut poignet uni. Boa de plumes de coq, manchon de fourrure semblable à celle du bas du manteau. Chapeau en feutre gris, entouré par une torsade de velours vert-myrte, et couvert en dessus par deux grandes plumes d'autruche blanches, retombant sur la nuque.

(1) Very luxurious coat in myrtle-green Northern velvet, covered with black silk embroidery. Very fitted back, straight front, with bottom trimmed with a strip of marten, forming a hem. Balloon sleeves, heavily embroidered, falling on a high plain cuff. Boa of rooster feathers, fur muff similar to that of the bottom of the coat. Hat in gray felt, surrounded by a twist of myrtle-green velvet, and covered on top by two large white ostrich feathers, falling on the nape of the neck.

—

(2) Longue jaquette demi-ajustée, en lainage gris, broché noir. Elle est boutonnée au cou sous deux petits brandebourgs, recouverts par un empiècement de passementerie noire, s'élevant au-dessus en grand col Médicis, doublé de velours, partir des brandebourgs, la jaquette ouvre jusqu'au bas sous un revers de satin gris, encadrant un long gilet de velours noir, boutonné jusqu'au bas. Manches très bouffantes du haut, très étroites du bas.

Chapeau de velours gris, couvert de nœuds et de coques de satin gris.

(2) Long, semi-fitted jacket, in gray wool, black brocade. It is buttoned at the neck under two small frogs, covered by a yoke of black braid, rising above in a large Medici collar, lined with velvet, from the frogs, the jacket opens to the bottom under a gray satin lapel, framing a long black velvet waistcoat, buttoned to the bottom. Very puffed sleeves at the top, very narrow at the bottom.

Gray velvet hat, covered with gray satin bows and shells.

—

(3) Jaquette très ajustée, en velours moiré hanneton, couverte de broderies de soie noire, avec perles mordorées. Collier et garniture d'astrakan, faisant tout le tour de la jaquette et se retrouvant au bas, autour de la jupe. Manches très brodées, à parements d'astrakan, larges du haut, très collantes du bas.

Petite capote de velours moiré hanneton, dentelée tout autour et garnie sur le sommet, devant, par une touffe de plumes d'autruche noires.

(3) Very fitted jacket, in moiré chafer velvet, covered with black silk embroidery, with bronze pearls. Collar and trim of astrakhan, going all the way around the jacket and ending at the bottom, around the skirt. Heavily embroidered sleeves, with astrakhan facings, wide at the top, very tight at the bottom.

Small hood of moiré chafer velvet, scalloped all around and trimmed on the top, in front, with a tuft of black ostrich feathers.

[raffaeleitlodeo]

PEDEMONTANA: L'AUTONOMIA AL CONTRARIO Tutto ebbe inizio nel 2009 con il duo Galan-Zaia che ebbero l'idea di una autostrada regionale. Ve lo facciamo vedere noi come si fa una autostrada a voi romani rimbambiti, inefficienti, corrotti! Poi l'autostrada costerà la cifra folle di 3 miliardi di euro. Poi nel 2017 Zaia fa la più grande cappella in un quindicennio di sagre, immobilità, assenteismo in consiglio e presentazione di libri: di fronte alla possibilità del ritiro del consorzio Sis decide di assumersi il rischio di impresa. Risultato? In una trentina d'anni la regione dovrà dare 12 miliardi al consorzio, circa 300 milioni all'anno. Se però le tariffe sono basse dovrà spendere soldi dal bilancio regionale. Esempio? Nel 2023 la Regione paga 180 milioni al consorzio e ne riceve 60 di tariffe. 120 milioni di soldi pubblici buttati! Se lo avessero fatto i romani, o peggio, come dice la Tega Nord, i teroni, sarebbero su tutte le prime pagine! Come risolvere questo buco delle regioni inefficienti? Ci pensa Salvini, il quale decide con la sua Riforma che le tratte flop delle autostrade le paga lo Stato. Il Veneto fa i buchi e lo Stato li ripaga. L'autonomia all'incontrario. Fantastico.

Carlo Cunegato, Facebook

[reyolivier]

Beagle, un canal entre deux océans

« Le plus beau contraste jamais vu entre mer et glace »  - Charles Darwin durant sa navigation à bord du navire Le Beagle dans le détroit qui deviendra le canal de Beagle.

Entre les océans Pacifique et Atlantique, entre l’Argentine et le Chili, le canal de Beagle forme un détroit qui s’étend d’est en ouest sur 240 km de long et relie les deux océans. Ce bras de mer coupe la Terre de Feu en deux : la grande île au nord et un archipel formé d’une multitude de petites îles au sud.

.

Beagle, a channel between two oceans

“The most beautiful contrast ever seen between sea and ice” - Charles Darwin during his navigation aboard the ship The Beagle in the strait that would become the Beagle Channel.

Between the Pacific and Atlantic oceans, between Argentina and Chile, the Beagle Channel forms a strait that extends from east to west for 240 km long and connects the two oceans. This arm of the sea cuts Tierra del Fuego in two: the large island to the north and an archipelago made up of a multitude of small islands to the south.

.

#argentina #argentina🇦🇷 #argentine #argentinas #travel #travelphotography #travelgram #travelblogger #travelling #instatravel #voyage #voyager #voyageurdumonde #naturerey #summer #summervibes #ameriquedusud #ameriquelatine #sealife #patagonia #patagoniaargentina🇦🇷 #otarie #mountains #montana #animal #animallovers #sea #canalbeagle #ocean #lighthouse

[ethereal-skies-forum]

【 BIENVENUE EN STARACESTE 】

She’s an icon, she’s a legend and she is the moment… C’est avec grand plaisir que nous vous présentons aujourd’hui la carte globale de Staraceste (n’hésitez pas à cliquer dessus pour l’afficher en grand ou à nous signaler un problème de lisibilité pour qu’on puisse le corriger), réalisée par notre incroyable cartographe, sgmnd. ✨ Les cinq États qui coexistent dans l’archipel y sont représentés avec tous leurs chefs-lieux, reliés entre eux par de multiples grandes voies.

Cependant, cette carte n’est que la version épurée de la configuration géographique de Staraceste. D’autres cartes plus détaillées (qui présenteront notamment des éléments topographiques) seront disponibles plus tard. Vous aurez ainsi l’occasion d’explorer plus en profondeur la géographie de chaque État (et de leurs régions respectives) car vous vous doutez bien qu’ils ne possèdent pas que 3 ou 4 villes chacun. 👀 Le lieu grisé situé au centre de la carte correspond lui aussi à une zone jouable qui ne sera toutefois pas accessible dès l’ouverture. Il faudra attendre un peu pour avoir d’autres renseignements (suspense oblige).

Dans notre prochain post, nous aborderons également les déplacements à travers l’île et nous vous donnerons une idée du temps qu’il faut par exemple pour se rendre du chef-lieu situé le plus au sud au chef-lieu le plus au nord, suivant le mode de transport emprunté (si vous voulez faire vos 10 000 pas par jour, Staraceste c’est clairement la destination faite pour vous).

『 NOTE ↝ Pour celleux qui attendent avec impatience la suite des groupes présents dans chaque État parce que nous avons déjà commencé à partager ceux de Kyanós et du Northunyre, pas d’inquiétude, ça arrive très bientôt ! Comme on l’avait mentionné dans un précédent post, on essaye juste de temporiser un peu en vous proposant d’autres éléments entre-temps. 🤌🏻 』

[blogitalianissimo]

Senza ironia alcuna avrei preferito la secessione a questa roba, perché io col cazzo che voglio condividere lo status d'italiana con gente che ci teneva proprio a togliere servizi necessari per la sopravvivenza al Mezzogiorno

Mi dispiace per voi del nord Italia che non siete d'accordo con questa porcata e tra le varie generalizzazioni ci andate di mezzo, ma purtroppo dovete capire che a me della locomotiva d'Italia attualmente non frega un cazzo e nel mio mondo ideale la Padania sarebbe una grande palude abitata da rospi e salamandre. Milano, Brescia, Torino, Lodi, Pordenone, no frega niente, spazio vitale tolto alle ranocchie che sarebbero state vicine di casa più gradevoli dei leghisti

[blurredcolour]

You Arms Pull Me In Like The Tide Pulls Me Under | Part One

Your Arms Pull Me In Like The Tide Pulls Me Under Masterlist

Dick Winters x Female SOE Agent!Reader

The 101st Airborne's jump into Normandy is filled with unexpected surprises for all parties involved.

Warnings: Canon Typical Violence, Weapons, Death, Blood, Gore, Injuries, Inevitable Historical and Military Inaccuracies, Language, Mature/Explicit Themes - 18+ ONLY.

Note: This is a work of fiction based off the portrayal of Dick Winters by Damian Lewis. I hold nothing but respect for the real life individuals referenced within. Shout out to my bilingual friend who double checked my French lines for me. Non-English is denoted in italics.

Word Count: 4809

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

Paris – December 10, 1944

The sea of humanity in Gare du Nord was overwhelming as Dick Winters stepped off the train from Mourmelon-le-Grand. Though it was mid-morning on a Sunday, it seemed like everyone was on the move. His height had him standing head and shoulders above most of the crowd as he made his way down the platform toward the exit, nearly bumping into a woman dressed in an olive drab uniform.

“Sorry –” He reflexively apologized in English before correcting it to the local French, though his pronunciation left a lot to be desired. “Excusez-moi.”

You turned back to him, eyes widening with recognition as they flicked over his face. “A captain now.” You smiled as your gaze eventually settled onto the two bars shining on the garrison cap of his Class-A uniform.

“A Canadian now.” He replied as his own eyes settled on the patch embroidered on your shoulder. The hip length jacket, A-line skirt, and peaked cap of the uniform suited you. “Or were you always, Charlotte?” The hint of a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as his green eyes met yours.

He did not miss your visible swallow before you recovered with an even warmer smile than before. “I’m sorry you’ve got me confused with my good friend Charlotte Roussel. She’s told me all about you.” You offered your gloved hand to shake as you introduced yourself properly, though he wondered if it was just another cover identity.

Taking your hand in his, he shook it firmly with a bemused expression playing on his face. “Dick Winters. A pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise, Captain. If you are in need of a place to stay, I happen to have a recently vacated room in my apartment I would be happy to loan to you, free of charge. The hotels in Paris would love nothing more than to liberate you of your American dollars.”

Dick eyed you curiously, still as full of questions as the last time he had seen you in early June, yet you continued to obfuscate. “I wouldn’t want to impose…” He replied in the time-honored tradition of the polite refusal that preceded acceptance.

“Not at all. Besides, Charlotte would not forgive me if I did not repay you for saving her life.” You insisted with a nod, and he swallowed, noticing the way you now wore your hair to carefully cover your forehead beneath your uniform cap.

“If I remember it correctly, she saved mine first.”

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

Normandy – June 6, 1944

After the rattling and jostling of the plane as it flew through clouds and flak, the drop onto French soil had felt peaceful in comparison. Granted of course, there was the constant awareness that enemy fire could find him on his way to the ground, but by some miracle he made it in one piece. The same could not be said of his leg bag.

After linking up with Hall from Able company, the pair had set off into the woods with only one M1 Garand between them. Dick had done his best to remain calm and reassuring despite how poorly the night seemed to be unfolding already. Small touches of humor appeared to calm the young man’s nerves but they both remained hyper vigilant to all sounds around them. Roughly ten minutes from their rendezvous they heard a noise to their right and Dick signalled for them both to halt and get low, but before Hall could level his weapon, they were face-to-face with the muzzle of German K-98 rifle.

Preparing to lunge at the soldier’s legs, Dick was brought up short when a figure in dark clothing jumped onto the man’s back, clamping a gloved hand over his mouth before burying a knife into the side of his neck. The unexpected weight thankfully pulled the weapon toward the sky before the soldier squeezed off a few rounds in the struggle, but the brutally efficient downward stroke of their blade had the soldier quickly collapsing to the ground, neutralized. Left standing was a woman clad in what first looked like a skirt but was in fact very wide-legged slacks and a wool sweater with a cap over her hair and a scarf covering her neck and face up to her eyes.

“Parlez-vous Francais?” You asked in an elevated whisper as you crouched down to wipe the blade of your knife clean on a corner of the dead man’s uniform jacket.

Dick and Hall both shook their heads in silence, dumbfounded.

“Welcome to France.” You smiled a little as you pulled down your scarf to reveal the rest of your face.

Dick was struck by many things in that moment, first and foremost being how beautiful you were, which he quickly compartmentalized as he’d been well trained to do. The second was the lack of a French accent, of any accent to your English. You almost sounded American and yet…

The stirring of brush to the left had them tensing once more before a young man of no more than sixteen, tall but obviously underfed and in clothes that had fit him several inches ago, emerged to pick up the German rifle from the forest floor. The function returned to Dick’s brain all at once and he looked back to you quickly.

“Resistance?”

You nodded in confirmation, glancing between the pair of them before turning to the young man. “Emile, donne le fusil au lieutenant.”

“Mais Charlotte…” He protested, gesturing at the older rifle slung over his shoulder.

“Maitenant, Ils auront une nuit pire que la notre.” You replied in a firm tone that brooked no argument and he handed it over to Dick who thanked him with a nod.

Hall immediately began to dig through the fallen soldier’s pockets to find him some more ammo.

“You’re a lot further inland than we were expecting you.” Your comment brought Dick’s attention back to you and he did his best not to let his annoyance at the situation show.

“Any idea where we’ve ended up?” He asked as he took what Hall was able to scrounge with a nod of thanks, tucking it into the pocket of his ODs.

“Half a kilometre outside St. Mere Eglise. You have a map?” You asked with a tilt of your head, and he hesitated a moment, knowing that while he did, it was covered in confidential material. He watched as a knowing smirk stretched your lips. “I have one without your top-secret information, one moment.”

You raised up on your knees to tuck your knife into the sheath at your hip before reaching up the back of your sweater, the motion inadvertently pulling the fabric higher to reveal the skin of your midriff. He quickly averted his eyes to the tree canopy above, wondering when the training on attractive female Resistance fighters was supposed to have been delivered.

The sound of rustling paper had him glancing carefully toward the ground and he relaxed to see you unfolding a map across the leaves and pine needles that carpeted the forest floor. The four of you gathered around as you took out a lighter, using the weak light from the flame to point out your rough position.

“Easiest way to the coast is the railroad tracks – keep off the roads. There is a squad of about ten Nazis with two officers on a horse-drawn wagon. They are making their way to their favourite spot here.” You tapped the map further into the woods.

“Favorite spot?” He prompted quietly.

“To make members of the Resistance disappear.” You replied grimly, glancing at the simple watch on your wrist. “We set explosives here,” you tapped a spot along the rail line further inland, “to detonate about now. That should help you find your way?” You looked up to him just as the explosion sounded in the distance, a column of orange lighting the sky.

“Bravo, Charlotte. À l’heure juste.” Emile beamed at you, and you nodded in reply with a grin of satisfaction.

“Merci. Any questions, gentlemen?” You asked turning back to the two Americans.

“None. Thank you, Charlotte. Be careful out here.” Dick replied earnestly, hoping you were not headed to the German’s so-called favorite spot, but he held his suspicions.

“Same to you.” You nodded firmly folding up the map as he tapped Hall on the shoulder and the pair began to make their way towards the rail line.

You had been right, the explosion made an excellent beacon. The situation continued to improve when he reconnected with Lipton, Guarnere, Malarkey, Wynn, Toye, and two boys from the 82nd. When he heard the whinny of a horse, he realized you had also given him an accurate warning about the group of Germans.  While Dick presumed it was usually preferable for Resistance to avoid confrontation, with the numbers he had gathered, he preferred to eliminate the threat and arranged an ambush. Mercifully Guarnere’s premature action did not result in the failure of their attack and the men went about cleaning up the mess while Dick took a moment to reprimand him.

They were about to depart down the road when a rustling in the trees caught the hot-headed Sergeant’s ear. “Flash!” He barked out the password challenge in his brash Philly accent, sending everyone’s eyes towards the edge of the road where you stood, flanked by Emile and two other men Dick didn’t recognize.

“Thunder.” He rapidly replied on your behalf. “Don’t shoot, they’re Resistance.” He elaborated, coming to stand beside Guarnere.

“Merci, Lieutenant.” You exhaled. Your reply was muffled behind your scarf, but the relief was still audible.

“Jesus Christ, you’re a dame!” Guarnere hissed, pouring his excess adrenaline into his outburst.

Your barely smothered laugh reached Dick’s ears, making him swallow reflexively as the group watched you make your way to the back of the wagon. One of the older men, his clothes gone baggy under German occupation, carrying a weapon from the last war, grasped a corner of the tarp laying across some hidden cargo. Together you pulled it back to reveal the bodies of two more of your comrades.

“Merde.” Emile choked out and turned to take out his frustrations by kicking one of the fallen Germans at his feet.

Dick could not help the frown as he walked to the back of the wagon, his eyes falling on the form of a young boy no older than twelve.

“Goddamn he’s just a kid…” Malarkey uttered in dismay.

“They’ve got women and kids fighting out here for fuck’s sake.” Toye growled, slamming his helmet onto his head as he wrenched his eyes away from the scene, moving to take watch to the head of the wagon, obviously impatient to get moving.

“I’m sorry it’s not the outcome you were hoping for.” He looked to your eyes, wishing that scarf wasn’t hiding your face.

“But not unexpected.” You muttered back, straightening your sweater before leaning forward over the boy’s body.

“What will you do?” Dick asked as you grasped the boy’s lifeless arm and slung his torso across your shoulders, hugging his legs close to your body beneath your other arm.

“The only thing we can do - take him home to his mother, so she can bury him.” You replied as the fourth man with you, mid-forties with a build not unlike Randleman’s though still wasted away some, stepped forward to gather the remains of the twenty-something still on the wagon. “Thank you, Lieutenant. Good luck.” You met his eyes briefly, revealing your own glistening with unshed tears, before disappearing through the trees the way you had come.

The next twenty hours passed in a blur – finally reaching the assembly point, destroying the 105mm guns at Brécourt, losing Hall. Would that he could return the boy to his mother as you had been able to do with your fallen. As Dick watched Nixon open the can of food he’d been struggling with, he sighed deeply.

“Met a Resistance fighter in the woods after I landed – she spoke perfect English, Nix. No trace of any accent, at all. The men were all looking to her for direction.”

Nixon raised his eyes to meet his meaningfully. “No shit…” He blinked and handed him the successfully opened food. “Sounds to me like you met a genuine SOE agent assigned to ‘set Europe ablaze.’” His tone was dripping with envy. “Division wasn’t entirely convinced by Churchill’s boasts. She must be one tough broad.”

“She seemed pretty proficient, Lew.” Dick replied with poorly concealed admiration, eyeing the contents of the can reluctantly.

“We ought to send Churchill a thank you card, then.” He smirked knowingly.

Dick let out a half-hearted laugh before his face fell serious once more. He looked to his boots before confessing to the loss of Hall, which Nixon tried to make up for by reassuring him the map he’d retrieved would be useful. Surrendering the food with the excuse of lack of appetite, Dick wandered off lost in thought.

Honestly never expecting to lay eyes upon you again, he was stunned to see you in a hamlet somewhere between Culoville and Vierville the next day. It was no more than a tiny cluster of buildings on both sides of the road, too small to earn a name on the map. The road was clogged with refugees, fleeing the conflict, slowing the progress of the armored division they were meant to be traveling with.

Dick had diverted Easy across a nearby field behind the hedgerow, bringing them to a halt to plan their final approach, his officers naturally gathering around him.

“Christ there’s civilians everywhere.” Welsh hissed under his breath as they peered through the foliage.

“So, who’s going to knock on the door?” Compton grinned, his bulk barely concealed by the late spring greenery.

Dick paused, squinting through his binoculars as he watched you carefully set your wagon, filled with suitcases and other belongings like any other refugee, beneath the window of a café. Your gaze was fixed on the boulangerie across the lane, seeming of a mind to purchase some food for your travels. His eyes followed as you wended your way through the dwindling stream of people, clad in a spring jacket with a worn brown dress beneath, a pair of dusty boots on your feet. You stood out to no one but him.

“Dick?” Nixon prompted in a hushed whisper.

“Hold. The Resistance is here. Which means we most likely have Germans lurking nearby.”

“Resistance?” Nixon’s eyes widened as he fumbled with his jacket to retrieve his own binoculars. “You mean she’s here?!” He whirled to face the road, his movements made less than graceful by his excitement, and Dick barely contained his amused grin as you had already vanished inside the bakery.

His amusement did not last long, unfortunately, as a red-faced German solider came charging out of the café.

“Bingo.” Nixon breathed quietly.

Dick’s lips pressed into a grimace as the man re-emerged shortly thereafter dragging you by a fistful of your hair, shouting and pointing at your wagon. Any remaining civilians on the road quickly scattered into the other buildings or the fields beyond.

“He’s upset about the wagon.”

“You don’t say, Nixon” Compton replied sarcastically, a furrow forming between his brows.

Your voice carried to them, the pleading tone laced with fear making Dick tighten his grip on his binoculars. He could tell you were speaking a mixture of French and German, but not much more than that. “Lew?”

“Please in German…Please in French. I was just getting food. I’m sorry in German. I’m trying to get away from the Americans in French. The death in German. Please.”

Dick could hear the men shifting restlessly around him and lifted his head. “Tell them to hold, not yet. That café has got to be full of Germans. Plan on snipers in the fourth and fifth buildings as well.” He described the assault plan for each of the squads as your pleas continued to ring out parried by barked commands from the increasingly perturbed soldier. “But wait for my signal.” He nodded firmly to dismiss them, and they hurried off to their respective platoons.

Dick wanted to trust that you had the situation in hand, but this surely could not be unfolding according to your plan. He raised his binoculars once more to see you desperately plant your hands on the soldier’s chest, several men drawing a collective breath. Dick narrowed his eyes as your gaze shifted to the left, toward the face of your watch glinting in the afternoon sunlight. He tensed noting your proximity to that wagon, convinced now more than ever that it was filled with explosives.

The sharp ‘smack’ of the German’s glove impacting your cheek had your head snapping to the side in a way that had Dick seeing red.

“I’m going to kill him myself.” Nixon hissed under his breath, but Dick didn’t have time to respond as, surging forward, you slammed your forehead into the soldier’s nose, a bloom of red flooding down his face and yours.

He held his breath as you seemed to stumble back, a bit dazed as a commotion sounded from within the café, but he was able to exhale as you regained your feet and used your ankle to sweep the man’s jackboots right out from beneath him. Dick glanced to the wagon once more with apprehension as you yourself dove to the ground before grabbing the back of the dazed soldier’s coat and hauled his body over yours. He had barely shifted his gaze to the collection of five Germans in the doorway when the wagon exploded violently.

“Right on time…” He muttered to himself, tucking his binoculars away and preparing to advance.

Nixon turned to stare at him, speechless.

“Don’t.” He replied warningly, still unsure if you had survived the blast, giving the debris a moment to settle before he gave the signal, heading straight up the road to you.

Much to everyone’s annoyance, the telltale sound of Shermans approached from further up the road – just in time to get all the glory without really having to do any of the work. As planned, the men peeled off to clear each of the buildings as Dick rolled the dead German off your body. He watched with bated breath as Roe appeared at his side to check your pulse, nodding up to him.

“She’s alive, sir.”

The road was filled with broken glass from the explosion, and fearing for the bare skin of your legs, Dick had Roe help carry you into the bakery as Malarkey reported it clear, the medic sliding his arms beneath your shoulders. Dick did his best to ignore how soft the backs of your knees felt against his fingertips as he managed your legs. They laid you down on the floor in the back room amongst abandoned baking supplies and he swallowed as your eyes fluttered open.

“Charlotte, you’re alright, Doc’s just going to look you over, ok?”

You furrowed your brows and glanced down at Roe as he undid your coat, looking you over for injuries aside from the obvious scrapes as Dick quickly pressed a bandage to the split in your forehead from where you had broken the German’s nose.

“You’re in good hands, I need to go back out there alright?”

You sighed heavily and he looked to your eyes quickly.

“I’m sure you’re speaking in that fucking wonderful American accent of yours, Lieutenant but I cannot hear a fucking thing. I’m sorry.” You spoke, seemingly unaware that your voice was obnoxiously loud.

Dick grimaced at your language as Roe barely contained his scoff of laughter before Dick nodded to you to show that he understood. Eyes pinning yours, he pointed at you firmly before forcefully pointing at the floor.

“Stay here. Understood.” You replied with a nod, a loud groan quickly overtaking your voice.

Dick hesitated a moment, but Roe was already looking over your face and into your eyes. There was really nothing for him to do here and his men needed him outside. Securing his helmet on his head, he dashed back out into the afternoon sunshine. Aside from one sniper’s nest three buildings down the road, which was easily managed with the help of the armored division, the hamlet was secured with only one minor incident involving Muck and some broken glass.

At Nixon’s urging, which Dick allowed to play out much longer than was needed to convince him, he ordered two stretcher bearers to accompany him back to the bakery to fetch you. He was encouraged to find you sitting with your back propped up against the wall, looking more alert with your knife grasped with one hand, though you had not seemed to have had the wherewithal to unsheathe it. He crouched down in front of you carefully, sliding his helmet from his head.

“I’m just going to take that from you, there Charlotte.” He wasn’t sure why he was speaking, fully aware that you could not hear him, but your grip loosened on the weapon as he reached for it.

“Alright.” You murmured softly in response and his eyes snapped to yours.

“You can hear again?” He asked as he tucked the knife into the pocket of his ODs.

You began to nod before halting the movement abruptly. “Mostly…”

“Good. That’s good.” He smiled briefly. “Do you have any other weapons on you?”

“No.” You replied after a thoughtful pause and patting of your coat pockets.

He nodded before standing, addressing the men lingering in the doorway. “Take her to the aid station, Lieutenant Nixon and I will be there as soon as we can.”

They responded with a chorus of ‘yes sirs!’ before he stepped back out to deliver orders for the company to take a rest while they awaited their next set of instructions. It was not long before they were told to proceed to Vierville where Colonel Sink had set up the battalion command post. It was also, conveniently, where the aid station was located. Once the men were situated for the night, Dick and Nixon quickly made their way to hotel that had been taken over as a medical facility.

They had barely walked in the door, the copper tang of blood just meeting their noses, before the battalion surgeon was calling out to him.

“Winters! Why in the hell did you send me a civilian?!”

“Strategic intelligence asset, sir.” Nixon replied smoothly, stepping in front of Dick to take the heat. “Where might we find her?”

“In one of the back offices. She cannot stay here. She needs to go a hospital whenever you’re done…whatever you’re doing.” He narrowed his eyes skeptically, hands on his hips as made his way over to them between the rows of cots set up in the lobby.

“She going to be alright, sir?” Dick asked, tone carefully neutral.

“Concussion, lacerations, bruising, three stitches to the forehead, hearing gradually returning. Overall malnourishment like all the French civilians. She’ll be fine after a week or two.” He muttered. “In a civilian hospital.”

“Yes sir.” Nixon replied quickly with a grin, grabbing Dick’s arm and pulling him towards the aforementioned office.

For all his bluster, the pair were amused to find the surgeon had set you up in a rather nice space, a blanket draped over your legs and a mug of hot coffee in your hands. Though judging by the grimace you made after taking a sip, it wasn’t to your taste. Your hair pins must have fallen out during the struggle and subsequent transport as the style you’d been wearing that afternoon was lost, and a few swathes of gauze now encircled your head to hold a bandage in place over your stitches.

He knocked on the door frame quietly and you looked up, smiling at little, your eyes shifting to look at Nixon.

“Charlotte, this is Lieutenant Nixon.” Dick introduced his friend who quickly stepped forward to offer his hand.

“Lewis, please.” You took it carefully, shaking it in return.

“Charlotte Roussel.” You replied.

“Would it be alright if we asked you some questions?” Dick tilted his head, and you raised an eyebrow.

“Of course.” You almost nodded again but caught yourself more quickly this time.

Dick stepped into the room, closing the door behind him and perching on the edge of the desk as Nixon took the only chair. He tried not to grin as you sipped the coffee and grimaced once more, obviously failing to conceal his reaction as you apologized.

“It’s very bitter, but very appreciated.”

“I won’t tell the surgeon.” He nodded with a conspiratorial look.

“So, Dick tells me you’re with the Resistance?” Nixon spoke after a moment of watching your exchange.

Your eyes slid over to Dick, and he tensed, briefly concerned you might be upset with him, before you looked back to Nixon. “Yes, that’s right.”

“Any information you might be able to share with us would be of great assistance.” Nixon nodded encouragingly.

“Well, all of my documents were quite recently destroyed but I’d be happy to share what I remember with you. Do you have a map?” Your question echoed one of the first you’d asked him and pulled a small smile from Dick’s lips.

He watched quietly as Nixon produced as clean map of the area and you easily provided all the information you had on which German troops were stationed where, between wincing sips of the hot drink cupped between your hands. The intelligence officer thrust out his palm about halfway through and Dick patted down his ODs until he produced a pencil for his friend, passing it to him so he might jot down the volume of information you were able to impart.

“And what about yourself, Miss Roussel?” Nixon looked up to you once he’d acquired all your knowledge of military use.

“Me?” You blinked innocently.

“Tell us about yourself.” Nixon nodded encouragingly, leaning back in his chair.

Dick noted the way your fingers tightened slightly on the mug, and he realized it bore the logo of the requisitioned hotel, but otherwise your demeanor remained calm and collected. “I was born just outside Paris in 1920. My aunt and uncle have a farm near St. Mere Eglise. They have no children of their own and when my Uncle Phillipe was killed during the invasion my Aunt Sophie asked if I could come help her. There is more to eat out here than Paris anyway, where you can grow it.”

“Why do you speak such good English?” Dick asked, unable to help himself.

Your eyes turned to meet his curiously. “I was a university student before the war, I had an excellent teacher from America. Ms. Jones. She was able to go home before the Nazis arrived.”

There was a touch of envy there, and though Dick was convinced you were selling them a very good story, the desire for ‘home’ struck him as true. He watched as you leaned back against the wall wearily, your eyelids growing heavier.

“You’ve never been to England?” Nixon prodded.

“No, Lieutenant Nixon. I’ve never left France.”

“Your experience with explosives? Who taught you that?”

“Antoine. He fought in the last war, he was a sapper. He was there after you took out the Germans who had captured our comrades.” You looked to Dick who nodded in reply, recalling the elderly man who easily could have fit that description.

He heard his friend sigh a little in frustration as you seemed to have a perfectly reasonable answer for everything – answers that were not what he was wanting to hear. A sharp knock on the door drew the attention of the group and Dick raised his head.

“Enter.”

A runner from Colonel Sink popped his head in the door and Dick sighed internally knowing they had run out of time. “Lieutenants, Colonel Sink has requested the pair of you at battalion CP immediately.”

“Right, thank you Sergeant. We’re on our way.” He looked to Nixon who sighed audibly in defeat before the pair looked to you.

You were barely keeping your eyes open, the mug in your hand tilting precariously. Dick carefully took it from your hold and set it on the desk.

“Thank you very much for your assistance, Miss Roussel. Do take care.” He stood, wishing there was something better to say, but there was too much to do. The landing had barely taken place and was by no means a sure success yet. The best thing he could do for you was to get out there and liberate France entirely.

“I’ll see to it that you’re transferred to a hospital as soon as we can.” Nixon added.

“You’re welcome, Lieutenants. And thank you.” You replied, Dick swallowing as he could feel your gaze following him out of the room.

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

Read Part Two

Your Arms Pull Me In Like The Tide Pulls Me Under Masterlist

[sciatu]

Le nuvole grigie ricoprono l’azzurro del cielo, coprono i monti sopra Taormina e velano l’Etna fino a nasconderla. Scendiamo tra le vie di Taormina, lucide di pioggia, per andare nella grande Villa. Ci accolgono viali pieni di fiori e di profumi, e panorami in cui si intravede l’infinito, mentre il mare quieto, si svuota di sagge barche che prevedendo la tempesta, tornano lentamente a riva. La Villa è piena di alberi di ogni specie perché chi la inizi�� a creare, Lady FlorenceTrevelyan, la cugina della regina Vittoria, volle creare una piccola oasi con fiori e piante di tutto il mondo dove gli animali potessero vivere indisturbati e lei potesse trovare il suo paradiso lussureggiante. Così, alberi tropicali crescono accanto a pini del lontano nord, fiori del nuovo mondo brillano luminosi accanto ai fiori locali lussureggianti ed eterni nel loro instancabile fiorire. I rumori del mondo sono lontani. Lontani il caos e le follie di chi crede nell’acciaio e nel cemento. Qui vi è solo il canto dei cardellini, il richiamo delle ciaule, il saltellare delle gazze, ed il sospiro del vento appena nato dal mare, che nervosamente sfida i monti a fermarlo, rubando nubi e stracciandole nel cielo. All’ingresso della villa due giovani amanti alati. Perché l’amore dona le ali degli angeli a chi di lui si nutre e con lui sogna.

The gray clouds cover the blue sky, cover the mountains above Taormina and veil Etna until they hide it. We go down the streets of Taormina, shiny with rain, to go to the large Villa. We are welcomed by avenues full of flowers and scents, and panoramas where you can glimpse the infinite, while the calm sea, empties of wise boats that, foreseeing the storm, slowly return to shore. The Villa is full of trees of every species because the person who began to create it, Lady Florence Trevelyan, cousin of Queen Victoria, wanted to create a small oasis with flowers and plants from all over the world where animals could live undisturbed and she could find her lush paradise. Thus, tropical trees grow next to pines from the far north, flowers from the new world shine brightly next to the local flowers lush and eternal in their tireless blooming. The noises of the world are far away. Far away is the chaos and madness of those who believe in steel and cement. Here there is only the song of goldfinches, the call of ciauli, the hopping of magpies, and the sigh of the wind just born from the sea, which nervously challenges the mountains to stop it, stealing clouds and tearing them in the sky. At the entrance to the villa two young winged lovers. Because love gives the wings of angels to those who feed on it and dream with it.

[fredomotophoto]

Road trip along the ridge route in Alsace with the Moto Morini X-Cape 650…

Canon EOS R

24-105mm F4 DG OS HSM | Art

ƒ/5.6 

38.0 mm 

1/250 

iso 100

(FR)

Route des Crêtes Vosges La Route des Crêtes est une voie longue de 88 kilomètres qui traverse le massif des Vosges, reliant Sainte-Marie-aux-Mines au nord à Uffholtz au sud, à proximité de Cernay. Elle a été créée pendant la Première Guerre mondiale pour des raisons stratégiques et permet aujourd’hui de découvrir les paysages les plus caractéristiques de la chaîne des Vosges.

Paysages et points de vue La Route des Crêtes offre des panoramas étendus inoubliables, avec des cols, des ballons, des lacs, des chaumes et des forêts. Elle passe par le col du Bonhomme, le col de la Schlucht, le massif du Hohneck, le Markstein, le Grand Ballon et le Vieil Armand. Le point le plus élevé est à 1 343 m au passage du Grand Ballon.

Activités La Route des Crêtes est accessible à pied, à vélo ou en voiture, en moto, en camping-car. Elle permet d’accéder aux sommets des massifs vosgiens, tels que le Grand Ballon (1 424 m), le Rothenbachkopf (1 316 m) et le Hohneck. Elle offre également l’accès au champ de bataille et au cimetière militaire de l’Hartmannswillerkopf.

Points d’intérêt Le Hartmannswillerkopf, également connu sous le nom de Vieil Armand, témoigne des terribles conflits de la Grande Guerre. Le Hohneck, troisième plus haut sommet des Vosges, offre un panorama paysagé avec en toile de fond les montagnes vosgiennes. La station de ski de La Bresse Hohneck, située aux pieds du Hohneck. Le col de la Schlucht, qui relie l’Alsace à la Lorraine par le biais de leurs vallées. Informations pratiques La route est fermée à la circulation chaque année à compter de mi-novembre pour toute la période hivernale. En hiver, elle est fermée au nord entre le col de la Schlucht et le col du Calvaire pour faire place aux pistes de ski de fond, et entre le col du Bonhomme et le col des Bagenelles, ainsi qu’au sud entre le Grand Ballon et les pistes de ski de La Bresse-Kastelberg. Des balades pédestres, des circuits VTT et des animations sont proposés aux départs des arrêts de la navette sur la route des crêtes. Conseils Parcourez la route en après-midi pour profiter des paysages les plus beaux. N’hésitez pas à vous arrêter aux nombreux bas-côtés de la route aménagés pour votre sécurité. Profitez des activités proposées, telles que le parapente ou la luge d’été, aux beaux jours. Prenez le temps de découvrir les vestiges historiques et les points de vue panoramiques qui jalonnent la route.

Bon… Nous, nous n'avons vraiment pas eu de chance cette fois là (en Juin). Brouillard, brouillard et encore brouillard toute la journée. Et le pire, c'est qu'il a fallu chercher de l'ombre une fois rentré tellement le soleil prenait sa revenche en fin de journée.

(EN)

Route des Crêtes Vosges The Route des Crêtes is an 88-kilometre-long road that crosses the Vosges massif, linking Sainte-Marie-aux-Mines in the north to Uffholtz in the south, near Cernay. It was created during the First World War for strategic reasons and today allows you to discover the most characteristic landscapes of the Vosges mountain range.

Landscapes and viewpoints The Route des Crêtes offers unforgettable, extensive panoramas, with passes, balloons, lakes, stubble fields and forests. It passes through the Col du Bonhomme, the Col de la Schlucht, the Hohneck massif, the Markstein, the Grand Ballon and the Vieil Armand. The highest point is at 1,343 m at the Grand Ballon pass.

Activities The Route des Crêtes is accessible on foot, by bike or by car, motorbike or camper van. It provides access to the peaks of the Vosges massifs, such as the Grand Ballon (1,424 m), the Rothenbachkopf (1,316 m) and the Hohneck. It also provides access to the Hartmannswillerkopf battlefield and military cemetery.

Points of interest The Hartmannswillerkopf, also known as Vieil Armand, bears witness to the terrible conflicts of the Great War. The Hohneck, the third highest peak in the Vosges, offers a landscaped panorama with the Vosges mountains as a backdrop. The La Bresse Hohneck ski resort, located at the foot of the Hohneck. The Schlucht pass, which connects Alsace to Lorraine through their valleys. Practical information The road is closed to traffic every year from mid-November for the entire winter period. In winter, it is closed to the north between the Col de la Schlucht and the Col du Calvaire to make way for cross-country ski trails, and between the Col du Bonhomme and the Col des Bagenelles, as well as to the south between the Grand Ballon and the La Bresse-Kastelberg ski slopes. Hiking trails, mountain bike trails and activities are offered at the shuttle stops on the Route des Crêtes. Tips Travel the road in the afternoon to enjoy the most beautiful landscapes. Don't hesitate to stop at the many roadsides designed for your safety. Enjoy the activities on offer, such as paragliding or summer tobogganing, when the weather is nice. Take the time to discover the historical remains and panoramic viewpoints that line the road.

Well… We were really unlucky this time (in june). Fog, fog and more fog all day long. And the worst part was that we had to look for shade once we got back because the sun was getting its revenge at the end of the day.

[abr]

Sic sinistris

Il povero Bonaccini su X, nel suo traballante italiano colloquiale diciamo: "Com’è che dopo anni non chiedono scusa per le accuse infamanti all’ex sindaco di Bibbiano?"

La risposta in un commento fulminante, calato evidentemente dalla sponda nord del Grande Fiume che fa da Cultural Divide:

E' il sindaco di Bibbiano che deve ringraziare il cdx per aver cancellato l'abuso di ufficio. MONA!!

[cover-art-showdown]

Round Two, Match CXLVII

In the Shadow of Lightning (Brian McClellan), Tor 2022. Cover by Dan Burgess.

Dans les Eaux du Grand Nord / The North Water (Ian McGuire), 10/18 2018. Artist unknown.

[chic-a-gigot]

Le Petit écho de la mode, no. 41, vol. 18, 11 octobre 1896, Paris. Créations des Grands Magasins de ta Place Clichy, à Paris. Modèles exclusifs. Ville de Paris / Bibliothèque Forney

Vêtement de genre, en drap mélangé, doublé soie; application d'une large baguette tournant autour du vêtement et du capuchon. Cette baguette est unie p'faire apposition; il se fait en bleu capote, en mélangé beige et noir.

Vêtement de genre, in mixed cloth, lined with silk; application of a large baguette turning around the garment and the hood. This baguette is plain for affixing; it is made in hood blue, in mixed beige and black.

—

Paletot sac, en velours du nord doublé soie; orné d'un boléro passementerie faisant broderie, grand col bordé de Mongolienne et pans de ruban.

Bag coat, in northern velvet lined with silk; decorated with a bolero trimmings making embroidery, large collar edged with Mongolian and ribbon panels.

—

Cape en pluche sileshine doublée soie ouatée, haute fourrure de chinchilla de chine taillée au patron faisant le col et la garniture.

Plush sileshine cape lined with wadded silk, high Chinese chinchilla fur cut to the pattern making the collar and trim.

—

Vêtement de fillette, en drap cuir pure laine qualité extra, dos et devant à gros plis montés sur un empiècement taillé à pointes, grand col de chinchilla d'Asiepouvant se rouler; la taille de 5 ans.

Little girl's clothing, in extra quality pure wool leather cloth, back and front with large pleats mounted on a yoke cut with points, large Asian chinchilla collar that can be rolled up; size 5 years.

—

Costume tailleur, drap cheviotte, jupe à godets avec tablier orné de soutache et boutons denacre petit gilet d'homme jolie veste ajustée avec col et parements de velours, même ornement devant qu'au tablier.

Tailored suit, cheviotte cloth, gored skirt with apron decorated with soutache and mother-of-pearl buttons, small men's waistcoat, pretty fitted jacket with velvet collar and facings, same decoration on the front as on the apron.

—

Joli costume drap satin, jupe nouvelle avec pli chaque côté du tablier garni pattes velours, paletot droit, plis dos et devant, col velours à créneaux, pattes, parements velours doublé de polonaise.

Pretty satin cloth suit, new skirt with pleats on each side of the apron trimmed with velvet tabs, straight overcoat, pleats on the back and front, velvet collar with crenellations, tabs, velvet facings lined with polonaise.

—

Vêtement riche en velours du nord doublé soie ouatée avec bretelle de jais, revers devant, ornés de même jais, choux de ruban et pans devant.

Vêtement riche in northern velvet lined with quilted silk with jet strap, front lapels, decorated with the same jet, ribbon cabbages and front panels.

[memoire2cite]

59 NORD GRANDE SYNTHE La ville nouvelle ds le rétro des années 80 Au 1er janvier 2024 , Grande-Synthe est catégorisée grand centre urbain, selon la nouvelle grille communale de densité à sept niveaux définie par l'Insee en 2022. Elle appartient à l'unité urbaine de Dunkerque, une agglomération intra-départementale regroupant huit communes, dont elle est une commune de la banlieue.