Alphabet Charms gold

I've always wanted nautical flag charms that represent my name. I have a bracelet to put them on, but I want inexpensive charms and the only ones I've been able to find are 14K gold and that's out of my price range. Or they just sell the bracelet with letters for "I love you". Not what I need. Thanks in advance! The alphabet, for those who are unfamiliar: http://207.56.201.131/tidings/snailtale/flags.gif An idea of what I'm looking for, just not gold, maybe sterling silver: http://www.shop2cart.net/store/nauticalflagjewelry/index.php?pag=pro&id=7487&PHPSESSID=62d813463e1cab8823cb14805c07e7cb

Try at Kay's Jewelery

The delicate designs are a balance of classic form and alluring detail that transform with life. Made from high-quality sterling silver and 18k gold plating, gorjana pieces are handcrafted with the utmost quality and personal care.

Order at Amazon for $55.00

Two Ways of Seeing a River by Mark Twain (1835-1910) Now when I had mastered the language of this water and had come to know every trifling feature that bordered the great river as familiarly as I knew the letters of the alphabet, I had made a valuable acquisition. But I had lost something, too. I had lost something which could never be restored to me while I lived. All the grace, the beauty, the poetry had gone out of the majestic river! I still keep in mind a certain wonderful sunset which I witnessed when steamboating was new to me. A broad expanse of the river was turned to blood; in the middle distance the red hue brightened into gold, through which a solitary log came floating, black and conspicuous; in one place a long, slanting mark lay sparkling upon the water; in another the surface was broken by boiling, tumbling rings, that were as many-tinted as an opal; where the ruddy flush was faintest, was a smooth spot that was covered with graceful circles and radiating lines, ever so delicately traced; the shore on our left was densely wooded, and the somber shadow that fell from this forest was broken in one place by a long, ruffled trail that shone like silver; and high above the forest wall a clean-stemmed dead tree waved a single leafy bough that glowed like a flame in the unobstructed splendor that was flowing from the sun. There were graceful curves, reflected images, woody heights, soft distances; and over the whole scene, far and near, the dissolving lights drifted steadily, enriching it, every passing moment, with new marvels of coloring. I stood like one bewitched. I drank it in, in a speechless rapture. The world was new to me, and I had never seen anything like this at home. But as I have said, a day came when I began to cease from noting the glories and the charms which the moon and the sun and the twilight wrought upon the river's face; another day came when I ceased altogether to note them. Then, if that sunset scene had been repeated, I should have looked upon it without rapture, and should have commented upon it, inwardly, in this fashion: "This sun means that we are going to have wind to-morrow; that floating log means that the river is rising, small thanks to it; that slanting mark on the water refers to a bluff reef which is going to kill somebody's steamboat one of these nights, if it keeps on stretching out like that; those tumbling 'boils' show a dissolving bar and a changing channel there; the lines and circles in the slick water over yonder are a warning that that troublesome place is shoaling up dangerously; that silver streak in the shadow of the forest is the 'break' from a new snag, and he has located himself in the very best place he could have found to fish for steamboats; that tall dead tree, with a single living branch, is not going to last long, and then how is a body ever going to get through this blind place at night without the friendly old landmark?" No, the romance and the beauty were all gone from the river. All the value any feature of it had for me now was the amount of usefulness it could furnish toward compassing the safe piloting of a steamboat. Since those days, I have pitied doctors from my heart. What does the lovely flush in a beauty's cheek mean to a doctor but a "break" that ripples above some deadly disease? Are not all her visible charms sown thick with what are to him the signs and symbols of hidden decay? Does he ever see her beauty at all, or doesn't he simply view her professionally, and comment upon her unwholesome condition all to himself? And doesn't he sometimes wonder whether he has gained most or lost most by learning his trade? Please include which two things are being compared :)

What the first responder gave you are known as similes which are basically the same as metaphors (in the way that they compare two things) except they use like or as. Metaphors can be vague and open to interpretation. The river itself is clearly a metaphor, as to what it is a metaphor for is unclear to me. I believe that each reader will choose as to what this metaphor means for themselves (and I think that will be based on experiences that they had in life). To me the river is either life itself or perhaps more likely an experience in life (notice how he says it's unfamiliar from what he is used to at home). To me this speaks of a life experience perhaps a journey or maybe even a relationship. One thing is clear and that is that what he is talking about he was excited to learn about at first, he was very focused and determined to learn more about it, this experience (whatever it may be) is something that was once of great interest to him. It intrigued him, astonished him and I might go as far to say he had some love/hope/belief for it at some point in time. But as he "mastered" it or perhaps grew some knowledge about this river it started to loose it's magic. If the river is life I can see what he's saying, as I look at my niece she is filled with joy, she's untouched by the world, innocent, she's too young to understand a lot of things that happen. I noticed, myself, that as I grew older I began to question more, the more questions the more knowledge. I can't help but feel the more I know the more I loose of what my niece has (whatever this essence or river of hers is). It would seem, in my opinion, that as we grow older, life can loose the magic it once had. Have you ever seen tourists in your area? they are fascinated by the attractions, they want to see them all and perhaps at one time locals did too, but as time goes by we hardly notice them or acknowledge their importance/significance anymore. They loose their luster over time because they simply "are" and exist. Or go travel and see the graffiti and trash on the Eiffel tower, the Roman arenas, castles and such. I was surprised to see that myself but it's similar to how I was once astonished by the beauty of Pikes Peak and now I guess I hardly notice it. From time to time, rarely, I will notice the beauty of the mountains again and I'll sit there and examine them. But to be truthful more often I just go about life as if they aren't even there, my focus is elsewhere. And that distraction may very well be the steamboat or the compass (this would be another metaphor). The compass to me stands for the conformity of life, we all grow up, get jobs, make money, pay taxes, etc. etc. etc. It can all be just so, I don't know, normal I guess. It's almost like were being pointed at an office or a cubicle. It's safe. Safe piloting. You know what I mean? it's kind of hard to explain. The doctors may very well be yet another metaphor, ever since he lost the majesty of the river he has "pitied doctors from his heart." To me the doctors are society. They want to "fix" him, fix his heart, but he won't allow it and in fact he pities them for their beliefs and trying to make him come back to a falsehood. They don't see the beauty anymore (notice how the doctors analyze the ripples as simple "breaks" in the water, everything has become scientific, having no beauty no majesty). These "doctors" they too are masters of the river because they know so much that they miss the simple beauty of it. That's 3, if you spent more time on it you could surely find several more, I'm sure of it.

BRIGIT OF THE CELTS ------------------- Brigit was one of the great Triple Goddesses of the Celtic people. She appeared as Brigit to the Irish, Brigantia in Northern England, Bride in Scotland, and Brigandu in Brittany. Many legends are told about Brigit. Some say that there are three Brigits : one sister in charge of poetry and inspiration who invented the Ogham alphabet, one in charge of healing and midwifery, and the third in charge of the hearth fire, smithies and other crafts. This catually indicates the seperate aspects of her Threefold nature and is a neat division of labor for a hard-working goddess. Brigit was probably originally a Sun Goddess, and a charming story of her birth is that she was born at sunrise and a tower of flame burst from the forehead of the new born Goddess that reached from Earth to Heaven. It was likely She who inspired the line in the famous Song of Amergin: "I am a fire in the head." Her penchant for smithcraft led to her association by the Romans with Minerva/Athena. As a warrior Goddess, She favored the use of the spear or the arrow. Indeed, various interpetations of her name exist including, "Bright Arrow," "The Bright One," "the Powerful One" and "The High One," depending upon the region and the dialect. As a Goddess of herbalism, midwifery and healing She was in charge of Water as well as Fire. I don't beleive that anyone has ever counted all teh vast number of sacred wells and springs named after or dedicated to this Goddess. A story is told of how two lepers came to one of her sacred springs for healing and She instructed one Leper to wash the other. The skin of the freshly bathed man was cleansed of the disease and Brigit told the man who was healed to wash the man who had bathed him so that both men would be whole. The man who was healed was now too disgusted to touch the other Leper and would have left him, but Brigit herself washed the leper and struck down the other arrogant fellow with leperousy once more before he could leave. Offerings to the watery Brigit were cast into the well in the form of coins or, even more ancient, brass or gold rings. Other sacrifices were offered where three streams came together. Her cauldron of Inspiration connected her watery healing aspect with her fiery poetic aspect. Brigit is clearly the best example of the survival of a Goddess into Christian times. She was cannonized by the Catholic church as St. Brigit and various origins are given to this saint. The most popular folktale is that She was midwife to the Virgin Mary, and thus was always inviked by women in labor. The more official story was that She was a Druid's daughter who predicted the coming of Christianity and then was baptised by St. Patrick. She became a nun and later an abbess who founded the Abbey at Kildare. The Christian Brigit was said to have had the power to appoint the bishops of her area, a strange role for an abbess, made stranger by her requirement that her bishops also be practicing goldsmiths. Actually, the Goddess Brigit had always kept a shrine at Kildare, Ireland, with a perpetual flame tended by nineteen virgin priestesses called Daughters of the Flame. No male was ever allowed to come near it; nor did those women ever consort with men. Even their food and other supplies were brought to them by women of the nearby village. When Catholicism took over in Ireland, the shrine became a convent and the priestesses became nuns but the same traditions were held and the eternal flame was kept burning. Their tradition was that each day a different priestess/nun was in charge of the sacred fire and on the 20th day of each cycle, teh fire was miraculously tended by Brigit Herself. There into the 18th century, the ancient song was sung to her : "Brigit, excellant woman, sudden flame, may the bright fiery sun take us to the lasting kingdom." For over a thousand years, the sacred flame was tended by nuns, and no one knows how long before that it had been tended by the priestesses. In 1220 CE, a Bishop became angered by the no-males policy of the Abbey of St. Brigit of Kildare. He insisted that nuns were subordinate to priests and therefore must open their abbey and submit themselves to inspection by a priest. When they refused and asked for another Abbess or other female official to perform any inspections, the Bishop was incensed. He admonished them to obediance and then decreed that teh keeping of the eternal flame was a Pagan custom and 6rdered the sacred flame to be extinguished. Even then, She remained the most poular Irish saint along with Patrick. In the 1960's, under Vatican II modernization, it was declared that there was insufficient proof of Brigit's sanctity or even of her historical existance, and so teh Church's gradual pogrom against Brigit was successful at last and She was thus decanonized. It is very difficult to obtain images or even holy cards of ST. Brigit outside of Ireland anymore. Her festival is held on Febuary 1st or 2nd. It corresponds to the ancient Celtic fire festival of Imbolc or Oimelc which celebrated the birthing and freshening of sheep and goats (it really is a Feast of Milk). This festival was Christianized as Candlemas or Lady Day and Her Feast day, La Feill Bhride, was attended by tremendous local celebration and elaborate rituals. Her festival is also called Brigit. Brigit (the Goddess and the Festival) represents the stirring of life again after the dead months of the winter, and her special blessings are called forth at this time. Since She was booted out of teh Church for being Pagan, it is incumbant upon us Pagans to restore Her worship to its former glory especially those of us of Celtic ancestory. Here is an ancient rite to invite Brigit into your home at the time of her Holiday: Clean your hearth thoroughly in teh morning and lay a fire without kindling it, then make yourself a "Bed for Brigid" and place it near the hearth. The bed can be a small basket with covers and tiny pillow added as plain or fancy as you like. If you have no hearth, you can use the stove and put the bed behind it. Then at sundown light a candle rubbed with rosemary oil and invite Brigit into your home and into er bed; use the candle to kindle your hearthfire if possible. Make your own poem to invite Her or use the ancient song mentioned earlier. Let the candle burn at least all night in a safe place. You might even want to begin the custom of keeping the eternal flame; it is a popular custom in some magickal and Wiccan traditions. AFter all, it's up to us now to keep the spirit of Brigit alive and well for the next thousand years at least!!! By Morning Glory Zell from AMARGI Vol I. No.3 Feb. 1st 1989 Used By permission It's a wonder in itself that the Christians have gotten along with their kneejerk rote rot for so long and even when confronted by historical fact. Also, I am sorry the poor things have reading something so long. I suppose that is why they have never read their own Bibles and just repeat the words of their shouters. It's a wonder in itself that the Christians have gotten along with their kneejerk rote rot for so long and even when confronted by historical fact. Also, I am sorry the poor things have a problem reading something so long. I suppose that is why they have never read their own Bibles and just repeat the words of their shouters. I'll look through the Lore library and see if I can get some telling info on Astarte to post in Ask.

Does it surprise you that they will take no responsibility for their past or present action? It doesn't surprise me. They have become masters at denying truth. Blessed Be...the Enlightened! ; )

Television movies for the week of May 8 (05/08/2011)
... hacker who stole $40 million in gold bullion. ... to stop a hit woman's so-called Alphabet Crimes. ... beauty who appears to be impervious to ... Television movies for the week of Feb. 27
... as bait to catch a security hacker who stole $40 million in gold bullion. ... shows Los Angeles how to stop a hit woman's so-called Alphabet ...