Red Lentil Curry with Cauliflower and Coconut Chips Recipe

I am dedicating this particular post to the beautiful souls who follow me on Instagram, several of whom clamored for this recipe when I shared a casual shot of it

in my Instagram story a few weeks ago.

“What is it?” they asked collectively. “It looks really good! Where’s the recipe?”

In truth, it is a recipe so simple, and one I make so often and with such ease, that I hadn’t thought to share it until then.

And I am glad indeed for the nudge, because it is the kind of dish that I would happily eat, in one variation or another, every day of the week, every week of my

life. I can only assume, if it is true for me, that it will be true for some of you.

So there you have it: my recipe for red lentil curry (or dhal) with roasted cauliflower and crunchy coconut chips.

It starts with a tray of cauliflower florets you slip into the oven to roast until brown at the edges.

While that’s roasting, you soften a couple of onions in coconut oil on the stove, then you add in red lentils, curry powder, and a handful of finely snipped sun-

dried tomatoes, which brighten the flavor of the curry like an unexpected ray of sunshine in the cold November air.

This you simmer in coconut milk for, oh, fifteen minutes, until the lentils are soft but not mushy. You want something unctuous, but it’s nice if you can still

make out the lentils and feel them bursting undertooth every now and then.

But the real magic happens at the last minute, after you’ve scooped that good red lentil dhal into some bowls and crowned it with cauliflower florets. This is

when you’ll shower the whole thing with coconut chips, toasted strips of coconut flesh that provide crunch and nuttiness in every bite, and tie everything

together.

The coconut chips I use are organic and fair trade, imported from the Philippines by La Maison du Coco, an independent French company I’ve been buying from for

over seven years.

These are just toasted shavings of coconut, no added sugar or salt, crunchy and delicious. I use them pretty much everywhere — in my paleo granola, over my green

smoothie bowls, in my perfect chocolate chip cookies and in my healthy breakfast cookies — and my kids and I also just snack on them, trail mix style, in

combination with raisins and nuts.  


2018年08月25日 Posted by Beautiful passage at 12:05Comments(0)

Secret US Embassy Cables

Wikileaks began on Sunday November 28th publishing 251,287 leaked United States embassy cables, the largest set of confidential documents ever to be released into the public domain. The documents will give people around the world an unprecedented insight into US Government foreign activities company management.

The cables, which date from 1966 up until the end of February this year, contain confidential communications between 274 embassies in countries throughout the world and the State Department in Washington DC. 15,652 of the cables are classified Secret.

The embassy cables will be released in stages over the next few months. The subject matter of these cables is of such importance, and the geographical spread so broad, that to do otherwise would not do this material justice Wedding Planning.

The cables show the extent of US spying on its allies and the UN; turning a blind eye to corruption and human rights abuse in "client states"; backroom deals with supposedly neutral countries; lobbying for US corporations; and the measures US diplomats take to advance those who have access to them brushless dc motor manufacturer.

This document release reveals the contradictions between the US’s public persona and what it says behind closed doors – and shows that if citizens in a democracy want their governments to reflect their wishes, they should ask to see what’s going on behind the scenes.

Every American schoolchild is taught that George Washington – the country’s first President – could not tell a lie. If the administrations of his successors lived up to the same principle, today’s document flood would be a mere embarrassment. Instead, the US Government has been warning governments -- even the most corrupt -- around the world about the coming leaks and is bracing itself for the exposures.

The full set consists of 251,287 documents, comprising 261,276,536 words (seven times the size of "The Iraq War Logs", the world's previously largest classified information release).

The cables cover from 28th December 1966 to 28th February 2010 and originate from 274 embassies, consulates and diplomatic missions.  


2018年07月18日 Posted by Beautiful passage at 22:51Comments(0)

If he has not already done

Let us refer back to the analysis of thinking given in the case of the man who discovered footprints on the beach. Even there, in order to give any adequate idea of his thought process, I was obliged to show that for various reasons he rejected certain suggested solutions. But this negative method could be more fully developed. Because the man rejected a certain solution, it does not follow that it was necessarily wrong. Suppose the final sug-ges-tion—that the unknown had been on the island all the time—were to have been tested out, and that certain further facts were discovered which tended to disprove it; the man might find it necessary to look for still another solution. But suppose this were not forthcoming, suppose that all the possibilities had been exhausted. It would be necessary to return to some of the original sug-ges-tions. He would have to see whether an error had been made in testing them. In rejecting the sug-ges-tion of a small boat he may have overestimated the distance of this island from other land. He may have underestimated the difficulties that a man in a small boat is capable of surmounting. In rejecting the sup-po-si-tion of a ship, he may have erred in his judgment of the time the footprints had been on the beach, or of the time it would take a large vessel to get out of sight md senses aqua peel.

What is essential is that all sug-ges-tions be tested out, either by memory, observation or experiment, in all their implications, and that the tendency be resisted to accept the first solution that suggests itself. For the uncritical thinker will always jump at the first sug-ges-tion, unless an objection actually forces itself into view. Remaining in a state of doubt is unpleasant. The longer the doubt remains the more unpleasant it becomes. But the man who is willing to accept this unpleasantness, the man who is willing carefully to observe, or experiment if need be, to test the validity of his sug-ges-tions, will finally arrive at a solution much deeper, and one which will give him far more satisfaction, than the superficial answer obtained by the man of careless habits of thought wedding event management.

Thomas A. Edison says he always rejects an easy solution of any problem and looks for something difficult. But the inventor has one great advantage over any other kind of thinker. He can test his conclusion in a tangible way. If his device works, his thinking was right; if his device doesn’t work, his thinking was wrong. But the philosopher, the scientist, the social reformer, has no such satisfactory test. His only satisfaction is the feeling that his results harmonize with all his experience. The more critical he has been in arriving at those results, the more deep and permanent will be that feeling, the more valuable will be his thoughts to himself and to the world. . . .

Even in the first chapter I intimated that logic would constitute a part of the science of thinking. I intimated, moreover, that it would constitute almost the whole of what may be called the negative side of thinking—those rules which serve to steer thought aright. Though cautionary, the advice given in this chapter is not usually given in books on logic. But though I cannot overemphasize the importance of a knowledge of logic, I cannot deal with it here. The science can receive justice only in a book devoted entirely to it.
so the would-be thinker should study a work on logic, for unless the present book is supplemented by some treatise on that science it cannot be regarded as complete pico laser.

In order not to confuse the reader I shall recommend only one book. In order to encourage him I shall recom-mend a small book, one not so deep as to be in-com-pre-hen-si-ble or re-pulsive to the beginner, but at the same time one which is recognized as a standard treatise:—Elementary Lessons in Logic, by Stanley Jevons.
  


2018年06月03日 Posted by Beautiful passage at 11:00Comments(0)

Is it because they are incapable


“Elodia manages it for me. It is all in the bank rental serviced apartment, or in investments which she makes. I use my dividends largely in the interest of science. The State does a great deal in that direction, but not enough.”

“And what, may I ask, does she do with her surplus, — your sister, I mean, — she must make a great deal of money?”

“She re-invests it. She has a speculative tendency, and is rather daring; though they tell me she is very safe — far-sighted, or large-sighted, I should call it. I do not know how many great enterprises she is connected with, — railroads, lines of steamers, mining and manufacturing operations. And besides, she is public-spirited. She is much interested in the cause of education, — practical education for the poor especially. She is president of the school board here in the city, and she is also a member of the city council. A great many of our modern improvements are due to her efforts business registration in hong kong.”

My look of amazement arrested his attention.

“Why are you so surprised?” he asked. “Do not your women engage in business?”

“Well, not to such an extraordinary degree,” I replied. “We have women who work in various ways, but there are very few of them who have large business interests, and they are not entrusted with important public affairs, such as municipal government and the management of schools!”

“Oh!” returned Severnius with the note of one who does not quite understand. “Would you mind telling me why? , or — unreliable?”

Neither of the words he chose struck me pleasantly as applied to my countrywomen. I remembered that I was the sole representative of the Earth on Mars, and that it stood me in hand to be careful about the sort of impressions I gave out. It was as if I were on the witness’ stand, under oath. Facts must tell the story, not opinions, — though personally I have great confidence in my opinions. I thought of our government departments where women are the experts hong kong apartment for rent, and of their almost spotless record for faithfulness and honesty, and replied:

“They are both capable and reliable, in as far as they have had experience. But their chances have been circumscribed, and I believe they lack the inclination to assume grave public duties. I fear I cannot make you understand, — our women are so different, so unlike your sister.”

Elodia was always my standard of comparison.  


2018年05月23日 Posted by Beautiful passage at 01:09Comments(0)

I'll bet anything that the janitor did it


"That's right! Don't let him off till he gives a guess as to the scamp!" shouted several boys.

"Perhaps he did it himself HK Business Registration," said the tall youth who had appointed himself policeman to collar Joe and bring him to the conclave.

"See here, Ralph Drayton, if I had been mean enough to play such a miserable trick with the books, I wouldn't be mean enough to deny it," said Joe stoutly, throwing his head back proudly, and looking the other straight in the eye.

Drayton laughed derisively, and said with a sneer, "Oh, I forgot; he is 'Saint Bernard's' pet billy-goat. He never would do anything bad, would he? Oh no." Then in a change of tone, he added in a conciliatory way, "Never mind me, Chester; of course I am funning. No one suspects you."

"No, I suppose not," said Joe coolly hong kong company registrar.

This he said with his honest blue eyes fastened searchingly on Ralph Drayton's small black ones.

The black eyes fell beneath the glance, but Drayton quickly recovered himself, and loosing his grasp on Joe's collar, said with a laugh, "!"

"Oh, pooh! The janitor!" said a half-dozen boys derisively.

"What did he care about the lesson hong kong offshore account?"

"Well, who then could it be? If I could find out, I'd thrash him for spoiling my book. I'll get a lecture from father at home when he sees that torn book. You see my brother Nelson is coming next year, and he will take my books as I leave them. My copy was new too!" and Ralph's tone was one of righteous indignation.  


2018年05月09日 Posted by Beautiful passage at 23:09Comments(0)

He was as blind to the faults

The first of Marryat’s books is one which, for reasons very neatly stated by himself, may stand apart from the others. When he had given it three successors, he[79] thought fit to publish a proclamation on the subject of his work in the Metropolitan, and in that document he described “Frank Mildmay” as fairly as any honest critic could do for him Company Formation.

“‘The Naval Officer’ was our first attempt, and it having been our first attempt must be offered in extenuation of its many imperfections; it was written hastily, and before it was complete we were appointed to a ship. We cared much about our ship and little about our book. The first was diligently taken charge of by ourselves; the second was left in the hands of others, to get on how it could. Like most bantlings put out to nurse, it did not get on very well. As we happen to be in the communicative vein, it may be as well to remark that being written in the autobiographical style, it was asserted by good-natured friends, and believed in general, that it was a history of the author’s own life. Now, without pretending to have been better than we should have been in our earlier days, we do most solemnly assure the public that, had we run the career of vice of the hero of ‘The Naval Officer,’ at all events, we should have had sufficient sense of shame not to have avowed it. Except the hero and the heroine, and those parts of the work which supply the slight plot of it as a novel, the work in itself is materially true, especially in the narrative of sea adventure, most of which did (to the best of our recollection) occur to the author.… The ‘confounded licking’ we received for our first attempt in the critical notices is probably well known to the reader—at all events we have not forgotten it. Now, with some, this[80] severe castigation of their first offence would have had the effect of their never offending again; but we felt that our punishment was rather too severe; it produced indignation instead of contrition, and we determined to write again in spite of all the critics in the universe: and in the due course of nine months we produced ‘The King’s Own.’ In ‘The Naval Officer’ we had sowed all our wild oats, we had paid off those who had ill-treated us, and we had no further personality to indulge in Hong Kong Apartments.”

From which, even if internal evidence were not enough to prove it, we learn that, between the paying off of the Tees and the commissioning of the Ariadne, Marryat decided to have a general jail delivery of his old naval enemies, and that the result was “Frank Mildmay; or, The Naval Officer.” It cannot be said that the book is better than its origin. If Marryat had kept the promise he made in this proclamation of his to the readers of the Metropolitan—if he had re-written this so-called novel, he might, had he taken the right course, have made it one of the best of his works. He had only to make it an autobiography without disguise, to put in the good as well as the evil of his experience, to take care to explain everything to his readers, as he could well have done, and he would have given English literature a thing altogether unique—a naval memoir. We are not rich in memoirs, at least, not in good ones. The English hand is unhappy at that work. A man has only to turn to Ludlow, or Sir Philip Warwick, to see how lamentably little Englishmen of parts who lived through the most wonderful things could contrive to[81] bring away with them—how little at least of the life, the colour, the dramatic swing of it all. Of the few we can show, which are not unfit to stand with the Frenchmen, Clarendon, Pepys, Colley Cibber, Evelyn (and four or five others), none were of the sea. “Cochrane’s Autobiography” maybe quoted against me, but even this, good as it is in places, is drowned in angry denunciations of human wickedness, and demonstrations that this or the other thing ought to have been done by official backsliders, so that what Cochrane did himself is almost crowded out. Besides, it is only a fragment, and then reste à savoir s’il n’est pas mort. It has not lived. One may, and must, use it for the history of the man and the time, but who reads it for its intrinsic literary merit? The French seamen have the better of us there. The memoirs of Forbin, of Duguay-Trouin, and even the recently published journal of a much less famous man, Jean Doublet, are capital reading. Marryat might, if he had so pleased, have done a book which would have been to the memoirs of Forbin what the memoirs of Clarendon are to the memoirs of Sully, to adopt the formula dear to Lord Macaulay. He might have done what Sir Walter Scott praised Basil Hall for attempting—have given in autobiographical form a picture of sea life, which would have been interesting, not only to those who already love the subject, but to all who love good reading. He did not so choose. He carried out his mission in another form, and “Frank Mildmay” remained as it first appeared.

That the book was so much of an autobiography was a misfortune for Marryat. He might protest as much as he pleased that he was not Frank Mildmay MD Senses, and had not[82] run a career of vice, but the impression left by the book was and is disagreeable. Why should a man attribute his own adventures to a tiger? Now, Frank Mildmay is a tiger—a very insolent, callous, young cub. It shows Marryat to have been very inexperienced indeed that he should have made such a mistake. He must have known that the adventures would be recognized. The naval world is a small one, and an exclusive. Naval officers live together by choice on shore as they do by necessity at sea. Everything written about the profession is talked over, and interpreted, when interpretation is needed. Every incident in “Frank Mildmay” was no doubt recognized at once; and when it was found that the things that had happened to the hero of the story were the adventures of the author, it is not to be wondered at that the two were thought to be also identical in character. Marryat, in fact, committed with himself the very error of judgment into which Dickens was led with Leigh Hunt, when he made Harold Skimpole a rascal, in order to prove that he was not a caricature of his friend. But there is something more than inexperience and error of judgment about “The Naval Officer.” Marryat can hardly have seen what a bad fellow he had drawn. Frank Mildmay has not only those “sins of the devil,” which may be worse, but are more dignified, than the sins of men—he errs not only by “pride and rebellion,” but he is a mean scamp; and I am afraid that Marryat did not see it. of his bantling as Smollett was to the ruffianism of Roderick Random, or Fielding to the very vulgar inferiority of Tom Jones. Criticism seems to have opened his eyes,[83] and little as he liked the lesson, he took the warning; but it was only for a time. Unfortunately he fell back on it. Percival Keene is just such another—a very low fellow, with a kind of wild boar courage. It would appear that Marryat did not see some things as plainly as one could wish he had done. It is unnecessary to insist on the faults of construction in a book which belonged to an altogether bastard genre. What merits it had—and they were sufficient to give promise of a brilliant novelist—were to be repeated in other books much more pleasant, and much more capable of repaying examination.  


2018年04月21日 Posted by Beautiful passage at 23:00Comments(0)

It was on the occasion of a large party

I said no more virtual office mongkok. I did not think the time was come for much parley. I had an instinctive feeling that it would be folly to let one’s temper effervesce often with such a man as Edward. I said to myself, “I will place my cup under this continual dropping; it shall stand there still and steady; when full, it will run over of itself — meantime patience. Two things are certain. I am capable of performing the work Mr. Crimsworth has set me; I can earn my wages conscientiously, and those wages are sufficient to enable me to live. As to the fact of my brother assuming towards me the bearing of a proud, harsh master, the fault is his, not mine; and shall his injustice, his bad feeling, turn me at once aside from the path I have chosen? No; at least, ere I deviate, I will advance far enough to see whither my career tends. As yet I am only pressing in at the entrance — a strait gate enough; it ought to have a good terminus.” While I thus reasoned, Mr. Crimsworth rang a bell; his first clerk, the individual dismissed previously to our conference, re-entered.

“Mr. Steighton,” said he, “show Mr. William the letters from Voss, Brothers, and give him English copies of the answers; he will translate them.”

Mr. Steighton, a man of about thirty-five, with a face at once sly and heavy, hastened to execute this order; he laid the letters on the desk, and I was soon seated at it, and engaged in rendering the English answers into German. A sentiment of keen pleasure accompanied this first effort to earn my own living — a sentiment neither poisoned nor weakened by the presence of the taskmaster, who stood and watched me for some time as I wrote wine wset. I thought he was trying to read my character, but I felt as secure against his scrutiny as if I had had on a casque with the visor down-or rather I showed him my countenance with the confidence that one would show an unlearned man a letter written in Greek; he might see lines, and trace characters, but he could make nothing of them; my nature was not his nature, and its signs were to him like the words of an unknown tongue. Ere long he turned away abruptly, as if baffled, and left the counting-house; he returned to it but twice in the course of that day; each time he mixed and swallowed a glass of brandy-and-water, the materials for making which he extracted from a cupboard on one side of the fireplace; having glanced at my translations — he could read both French and German — he went out again in silence.

I served Edward as his second clerk faithfully, punctually, diligently. What was given me to do I had the power and the determination to do well. Mr. Crimsworth watched sharply for defects, but found none; he set Timothy Steighton, his favourite and head man, to watch also. Tim was baffled; I was as exact as himself, and quicker. Mr. Crimsworth made inquiries as to how I lived, whether I got into debt — no, my accounts with my landlady were always straight. I had hired small lodgings, which I contrived to pay for out of a slender fund — the accumulated savings of my Eton pocket-money; for as it had ever been abhorrent to my nature to ask pecuniary assistance, I had early acquired habits of self-denying economy; husbanding my monthly allowance with anxious care, in order to obviate the danger of being forced, in some moment of future exigency, to beg additional aid MD Senses
. I remember many called me miser at the time, and I used to couple the reproach with this consolation — better to be misunderstood now than repulsed hereafter. At this day I had my reward; I had had it before, when on parting with my irritated uncles one of them threw down on the table before me a 5l. note, which I was able to leave there, saying that my travelling expenses were already provided for. Mr. Crimsworth employed Tim to find out whether my landlady had any complaint to make on the score of my morals; she answered that she believed I was a very religious man, and asked Tim, in her turn, if he thought I had any intention of going into the Church some day; for, she said, she had had young curates to lodge in her house who were nothing equal to me for steadiness and quietness. Tim was “a religious man” himself; indeed, he was “a joined Methodist,” which did not (be it understood) prevent him from being at the same time an engrained rascal, and he came away much posed at hearing this account of my piety. Having imparted it to Mr. Crimsworth, that gentleman, who himself frequented no place of worship, and owned no God but Mammon, turned the information into a weapon of attack against the equability of my temper. He commenced a series of covert sneers, of which I did not at first perceive the drift, till my landlady happened to relate the conversation she had had with Mr. Steighton; this enlightened me; afterwards I came to the counting-house prepared, and managed to receive the millowner’s blasphemous sarcasms, when next levelled at me, on a buckler of impenetrable indifference. Ere long he tired of wasting his ammunition on a statue, but he did not throw away the shafts — he only kept them quiet in his quiver.

Once during my clerkship I had an invitation to Crimsworth Hall;given in honour of the master’s birthday; he had always been accustomed to invite his clerks on similar anniversaries, and could not well pass me over; I was, however, kept strictly in the background. Mrs. Crimsworth, elegantly dressed in satin and lace, blooming in youth and health, vouchsafed me no more notice than was expressed by a distant move; Crimsworth, of course, never spoke to me; I was introduced to none of the band of young ladies, who, enveloped in silvery clouds of white gauze and muslin, sat in array against me on the opposite side of a long and large room; in fact, I was fairly isolated, and could but contemplate the shining ones from affar, and when weary of such a dazzling scene, turn for a change to the consideration of the carpet pattern. Mr. Crimsworth, standing on the rug, his elbow supported by the marble mantelpiece, and about him a group of very pretty girls, with whom he conversed gaily — Mr. Crimsworth, thus placed, glanced at me; I looked weary, solitary, kept down like some desolate tutor or governess; he was satisfied.
  


2018年04月10日 Posted by Beautiful passage at 09:54Comments(0)

Is this not for us mathematicians

And it is because simplicity, because grandeur, is beautiful, that we preferably seek simple facts, sublime facts, that we delight now to follow the majestic course of the stars, now to examine with the microscope that prodigious littleness which is also a grandeur, now to seek in geologic time the traces of a past which attracts because it is far away Master of Science in Statistics.

We see too that the longing for the beautiful leads us to the same choice as the longing for the useful. And so it is that this economy of thought, this economy of effort, which is, according to Mach, the constant tendency of science, is at the same time a source of beauty and a practical advantage. The edifices that we admire are those where the architect has known how to proportion the means to the end, where the columns seem to carry gaily, without effort, the weight placed upon them, like the gracious caryatids of the Erechtheum Limited Company in hong kong.

Whence comes this concordance? Is it simply that the things which seem to us beautiful are those which best adapt themselves to our intelligence, and that consequently they are at the same time the implement this intelligence knows best how to use? Or is there here a play of evolution and natural selection? Have the peoples whose ideal most conformed to their highest interest exterminated the others and taken their place? All pursued their ideals without reference to consequences, but while this quest led some to destruction, to others it gave empire. One is tempted to believe it. If the Greeks triumphed over the barbarians and if Europe, heir of Greek thought, dominates the world, it is because the savages loved loud colors and the clamorous tones of the drum which occupied only their senses, while the Greeks loved the intellectual beauty which hides beneath sensuous beauty, and this intellectual beauty it is which makes intelligence sure and strong.

Doubtless such a triumph would horrify Tolstoi, and he would not like to acknowledge that it might be truly useful. But this disinterested quest of the true for its own beauty is sane also and able to make man better. I well know that there are mistakes, that the thinker does not always draw thence the serenity he should find therein, and even that there are scientists of bad character. Must we, therefore, abandon science and study only morals? What! Do you think the moralists themselves are irreproachable when they come down from their pedestal?

To foresee the future of mathematics, the true method is to study its history and its present state.

in a way a professional procedure? We are accustomed to extrapolate, which is a means of deducing the future from the past and present, and as we well know what this amounts to, we run no risk of deceiving ourselves about the range of the results it gives us Graduation Dinner.

We have had hitherto prophets of evil. They blithely reiterate that all problems capable of solution have already been solved, and that nothing is left but gleaning. Happily the case of the past reassures us. Often it was thought all problems were solved or at least an inventory was made of all admitting solution. And then the sense of the word solution enlarged, the insoluble problems became the most interesting of all, and others unforeseen presented themselves. For the Greeks a good solution was one employing only ruler and compasses; then it became one obtained by the extraction of roots, then one using only algebraic or logarithmic functions. The pessimists thus found themselves always outflanked, always forced to retreat, so that at present I think there are no more.  


2018年04月03日 Posted by Beautiful passage at 18:08Comments(0)

It is true that the farmers


At the close of the harvest it was an universal custom to have a harvest supper, and after the feast there was a merry time. The Rev. D. G. Williams mentions “Chware Dai Shon Goch” and “Rhibo” as favourite games on such occasions master of social science.

“Chware Dai Shon Goch” was something as follows:—

Two young men, or two young women would put on some old ragged clothes kept at the farm for that purpose, and thus attired would proceed to the barn where a walking-stick was given to each of the two. Then followed a most curious dance to the great amusement of the company of beholders. At present, however, the Welshpeople in country places know nothing of dancing; but it is evident that they were much given to dancing in former times as well as singing to the harp. Owen Tudor, the Welsh gentleman who became the grandfather of Henry VII., King of England, was invited to dance some of the dances of Wales before Katherine, the beautiful widow of Henry V. While the handsome young [81]Welshman was dancing one of his wild reels, it chanced that he fell against the Queen, and the latter with a bewitching smile, said, “that so far from offending her, it would only increase the pleasure of herself and company, if he would repeat the same false step or mistake!” Later on, Katherine and Owen Tudor were married.

Another game on such occasions was “Rhibo” which was something as follows:—

Six young men were selected for the performance, three standing face to face to the other three, and each one taking hold of the hands of the one who faced him. Then upon the arms of these six young men, a young man and a young woman were placed in a leaning posture who were thrown up and allowed to fall again into the arms of the young men, and this ceremony continued for some time, and which appeared to be rather a rough game, but it is not practised at the present day Wedding Planning.

In former times it was customary at some farms to blow the horn at harvest time to call the reapers both to their work and their meals. Such horn was made use of for that purpose until very recently at a farm called Eurglodd, eight miles north of Aberystwyth in Cardiganshire.


“Cynnos” was a practice among the farmers of West Wales, and particularly Cardiganshire, of taking the corn to the kiln to be dried on the night before the grinding; it was customary to sit watching it all night and carefully attend to the drying operations, that is the turning of the corn on the kiln, and the sweeping of it off, when it had been sufficiently dried. The meaning of the word “Cynnos” is unknown, according to some writers it is a form of “cynwys” (contents)—that is the contents of a stack of corn; but according to others it meant “cyn-nos” (the night before) that is the night before the grinding WSET awards.

sent small quantities of corn to the mill at any time of the year; but the big annual “cynnos” was prepared, as a rule, about January or February. This “Cynnos” was a night of great fun, especially for young people, as many of the friends and neighbours of those who were engaged in drying the corn came together in the evening. An old gentleman named Thomas Evans, Gwarallyryn in the parish of Llandyssul, Cardiganshire, who well remembered the old custom, gave me an interesting account of it. This meeting of young men and young women and others at the kiln during the Cynnos to enjoy themselves [82]with games and story telling was known, said he, as “Shimli,” which often continued all night. Sometimes beer known as “Fetchin,” was sent for, and drank around the kiln fire. When the flour was taken home, it was put in chests. Previous to the beginning of the 19th century before kilns attached to the mills became general, many of the farm houses had a kiln for drying the corn at home, but of a very primitive sort. Mr. Price in his interesting little book on Llansawel, in Carmarthenshire, says that the last kiln of the sort for drying the corn at home in that parish was in use at a farm called Cilwenau isaf, worked as late as 1845. He also adds that the shape and the build of this primitive contrivance was something as follows:—
  


2018年03月25日 Posted by Beautiful passage at 22:18Comments(0)