PORTABLE TAP FLOORS. TAP FLOORS
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Portable Tap Floors
- A version of something, such as a small lightweight television or computer, that can be easily carried
- of a motor designed to be attached to the outside of a boat's hull; "a portable outboard motor"
- A small transportable building used as a classroom
- a small light typewriter; usually with a case in which it can be carried
- easily or conveniently transported; "a portable television set"
- (floor) deck: knock down with force; "He decked his opponent"
- All the rooms or areas on the same level of a building; a story
- (floor) shock: surprise greatly; knock someone's socks off; "I was floored when I heard that I was promoted"
- (floor) a structure consisting of a room or set of rooms at a single position along a vertical scale; "what level is the office on?"
- The lower surface of a room, on which one may walk
- A level area or space used or designed for a particular activity
- Produce (a rhythm) with a series of quick light blows on a surface
- cut a female screw thread with a tap
- Strike (someone or something) with a quick light blow or blows
- Strike (something) against something else with a quick light blow or blows
- pat: the sound made by a gentle blow
Tap: Defeating The Sins That Defeat You
Some have been defeated by certain sins for so long it seems hopeless.We do our best to fight by reading the Bible, praying, and engaging in other spiritual disciplines yet still find ourselves face down on the mat more than we care to admit. In TAP, author and teacher Yancey Arrington looks to some of history's best sin-fighters, John Owen and the Puritans, to find out why the "Just Do More" approach to the spiritual disciplines may be the wrong strategy to defeating sin. TAP exposes some of the more popular, but ultimately inept approaches and beliefs about sin, repentance and spiritual growth while coaching how to get "into the cage" with our sins and not only survive...but win! Discussion questions included with each chapter.
a perfect day?
It had been a GLORIOUS day at My house for Me--no chores, no missions, no jobs... I had the whole day off. Arien had been hanging around doing nothing whatever. "Nothing whatever?" Asked the boy. "NOTHING WHATEVER!!!" Bellowed an unknown voice. "Okay..." I said a bit nervous.
I decided to wander down the roads and wish the fellow a wonderful day! But it stoped when i passed down the hall and stopped when I heard a loud crash and a moan coming from my brothers room (kadin)' room.
"What the...? Is he getting attacked?!" I rushed to the room when something caught my scent. "...I smell cookies..." I tottaly forgot about saving Axel and followed the smell of chocolate chip cookies. I finnaly arrived at the kitchen to see Axel taking out the cookies from the oven. "Wow Axel, you didn't actually burn it this time!" I said looking the cookies over. "Actually, I'm just taking them out for Brittany ." Axel said. 'She made a big mistake...' I Thought as she took one of the warm cookies off the pan and went to the fridge to get a glass of milk.
After a few moments of enjoying the cookie the mysterious voice spoke: "Kadin is in DANGERRRRRRRRRR...!!" "I know it's you Axel ." I said before taking another bite out of his cookie. "Oh poo." Axel stepped out of a shodow with a microphone and a portable speaker in hand. "Kadin is still in DANGEERRR!" She spoke into it and Isighed. "Fine, fine. I'll see whats going on..."
I returned to his previous area and decided I was going to kick down a random door to my left. "No I'm not," "YES YOU ARE!!!" Axel shouted into the microphone from behind. "Ugh. Fine." I kicked the door to reveal my mother in a yellow polka-dotted bikini. "Uhhh... I can explain..." mom mumbled and my eye twiched. "I am forever scarred." I walked down the hall with a vacaint expression on and My father took out a camera and took a picture. "I'm so evil..." My mother was about to run up to them and retrive the camera that had her dignity on it but instead got her own door slammed in her face.
"Now to rescue Kadin!" I ran down the hall, jumping over very few obsticals that got in my way. "Buhnuhnuhnuhnuhnuhnuh.... BATMAN!!!" Axel sang behind me earing a glare. "...Oh sorry... Bunuhnuhnuh, MATT-MAN!!!" I just groaned and continued down the hallway and finnaly reached Kadins door. "Lemme guess, you want me to kick it down?" "No, you can do whatever you want." AXel said cheerfully before pausing and putting the mic up to her lips. "I mean... DO WHATEVER YOU PLEASE!!!" I raised an eyebrow and decided to knock. After a while no one answered and I decided to open the door. "WHAT THE--?!"
The sight that reached me was very akward, seeing womens panties on the floor along with a particular crown necklace, *hint hint* chocolate, fuzzy handcuffs and many objects that shouldn't be mentioned. "Oh my..." "Whut?" Axel asked peeking into the room and then letting his mouth drop. "No WAY..." she said awestruck. "What?" I asked only to be shoved aside and watch as Axel picked up pink colored dice and the fuzzy hand cuffs. "I've wanted smex dice and fuzzy handcuffs eversince I was a kid!"
"Er I mean..." Axel brought the microphone to his mouth again. "PAY NO ATTENTION TO THE MAN WITH THE FUZZY HANDCUFFS..." Suddenl, another whiff of something caught my nose. "The room reaks of SEX..." AXel shook her head. "No shit, Sherlock. Ooooh are those panties Victoria Secret?!" Axel ran over to the pink panties on the floor and picked them up. I gave er a scared look. "...What? Can't a man have an intrest in womens under garmets???" I shook my head slowly and AXel shrugged. "Oh well. I wonder if Kadin has any edible body paint...?" Axel started to rummage through Kadin stuff.
"But I wonder..."I Started , tapping my cheek and picking up the crown necklace. "...Who would he have been doing this with...?"
"Wow Jocab! I never knew there was such a thing as bath jelly!" "Well Kadin... how about we... give it a try...?" "You took the words right ouit of my mouth..."
*Back with ME and Axel...*
"...Oh my..." I said dropping the necklace. "Hey look! They DO have ediblt body paint!" Axel said grabbing tons of colors that were in a trunk. "I call pi-ink~¦" I groaned and grabbed Axel by the arm. "Let's go." "But I want my edible paaaaiiiinnnntttt..." Axel whined and I glared at her. "Then go buy some!" There was a short pause and Axel said cheerfully: "Okay!" Taking the microphone he siad into it "Come Matt-boy--to the flowe
Personal reflections from the Georgian war zone. By Alexis Frankel
I’ve been back from the Republic of Georgia a few weeks now and have been trying to find the time and more honestly the emotional energy to share my impressions with you. Most of you know that Georgia for me has been a love affair since almost the first day my organization, the American Jewish Joint Distribution Committee (JDC) parachuted me into Tbilisi in 2006. I arrived in Georgia to spend over a year with sleeves rolled up working in local communities to help nurture young leaders and empower the poor and vulnerable. While I am proud of what I helped build there Georgia and its people gave back to me in adventure, friendship and hospitality far more than I could ever repay.
Any of you who have talked to me about my experiences have heard me wax poetic about the stunning natural beauty of the country: To the west lies the subtropical coast line of the Black Sea, to the north the dramatic and passionate Caucasus mountain chain and east lies rolling wine country with endless vineyards finally giving way to the starkly beautiful desert along the Azerbaijani border.
The Georgians, too have a tremendous and visible culture which is very ancient. Their religion, their literature, their language, their very existence as a nation are all for more ancient than even their large Russian neighbor (Tbilisi is 800 years older than even Moscow and is considered the "new" Georgian capital!). The Georgian language is a linguistic marvel seemingly unique and unrelated to any other language grouping on the planet. Georgians take great pride in this and it has no doubt played a large role in maintaining their cohesiveness as a people (much the same way as Hebrew has done for the Jewish people) again through many centuries of upheaval and destruction. Not least among the singular facts about Georgia is that it survives at all. Fought over by the great empires of the Romans, Persians, Turks, Mongols, Arabs and Russians to name only a few, it was sacked, destroyed and rebuilt countless times. There is a psychological strength that comes from such a history, such continuity, such coherence in the face of overwhelming odds. It is certainly a history which resonated with me in my time there as I reflected on the similarities of this narrative with that of my own people and Israel.
Incidentally the Jewish community in Georgia is over 2,600 years old and have enjoyed a long and peaceful (as much as the average Georgian anyway) history in the country. This is unheard of in almost any other country of the former Soviet Union where anti-semitism is endemic, rife and painfully obvious and too often proudly expressed. These attitudes hold no sway in Georgia and I was amazed once again at the tolerance of the Georgian people on this last trip as well. Even during a time of war, misery and occupation while I could feel currents of bitterness and anti-Russian sentiment swirling around me the people seemed very able to separate the Russian people from its government- and certainly there was no enmity directed at the large Russian minority living (also quite peacefully) in the country. Speaking Russian, playing Russian songs or expressing admiration for its literature were not and is not an issue. We did not acquit ourselves half so well after 9/11
I believe in this country.Returning after nearly a year away from what became a second home was an emotional experience. I had been overwrought and worried for 2 weeks while fighting raged and I was either unable to contact friends and loved ones in the country or was intensely focused trying to put together various evacuation plans for my friends who are Georgian nationals (most of which were conversations with myself as Georgians being very patriotic refused to leave their country in the face of invasion even at the pleas of very well meaning friends from abroad).
My best friend there sent her children to the countryside to try and get them away from the oncoming bombs, another friend whose family hails from Gori was unable to reach them after the cell phone towers were bombed in the city…all he knew is that they were cowering in a basement somewhere in the city waiting for the invading army to arrive. Most ex-pats fled by plane before the airport was closed or made a run by car for the Armenian border. For countless others, nearly 200,000 displaced at the peak of the conflict the nightmare was only beginning.
In Georgia proper (not in the contested region of South Ossetia where the conflict sparked off) close to 150,000 people, mostly ethnic Georgians fled bombing campaigns and later inebriated bands of Russian irregular forces and the marauding bands of militias that followed in their wake. Incited by propaganda about atrocities committed by the Georgian army these groups and other opportunistic foreign mercenaries took the opportunity to loot, burn, rape and murder their way through ethnic Georgian villages.
I returned to Georgia to assess the humanitarian crisi
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