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A chance at a new life. by  r a wallace. Listen to the ► Podcast at Steamy Stories.  Chapter 3: Regrets? Wendy I woke the next morning lying beside a man who wasn't my husband and felt good about it. I didn't feel a bit of guilt as I looked at him. I'd done two, one-night stands in my life and wasn't excited with what I found next to me in the morning. One of the reasons I had sworn off drinking before meeting my husband. The amazing part was, I didn't feel a bit horny at the moment and wondered if that was going to be a problem–would he want more from me now?As I lay there I wondered if he had saved my life, not merely by accident because of the baseball, but because he saw I was troubled and stayed with me, so I wouldn't try to use the pistol again. That was what I had intended. I simply didn't know if he had or not, but probably. His bringing me home with him had certainly changed my thinking in that regard. I'd been ready to end my life over a man Robb felt wasn't worthy of my consideration. Not that the passion he had shown as he lay into me didn't tell me I was desirable to at least one man. It had a tremendous effect on me for reasons I didn't fully understand, and maybe never would. I felt a movement, then Robb rolled over toward me, his eyes open. When he saw me looking at him he smiled, causing me smile back. “Could you spare a kiss this morning? He asked. "You mean could I spare a kiss and something else?” “A kiss and then you let me hold you for a while. The something else is up to you.” I laughed as I rolled over onto him, “Make way mister, you're going to get an armful of woman.” I snuggled into him and heard him reply. “You mean an armful of beautiful woman.” The words melted me immediately. If he had wanted to control me for his pleasure, he had me–no contest. We lay together not speaking for a while, his hands caressing my leg and arm. I kissed his neck a few times, then snuggled and closed my eyes again–he pulled me closer. I could hear his heart beating, feel his chest rise and fall, and smell him. When was the last time I had been so intimate and comfortable with a man? I couldn't remember for sure. It was sad, but I couldn't, not even with my husband. Shit! My husband. I was going to have to go home and face him today. Would he even notice I hadn't come home? If he did would he even care? Knowing him, his only concern was that I would make him look bad–his wife not home and obedient where she should be. He would push for me to attend Fellowship with him in the afternoon to keep up appearances with the congregation. I pushed the thought away as my stomach tightened. I'd make this time with Robb last another hour, then face the reality of my life. At this juncture I realized I had one to live thanks to someone who cared enough for a woman crying on a park bench to intervene. It was as incredible as it seemed I realized. I was lying in bed with a man in my panties after he had promised to do what I asked of him to end my despair. “Are you hungry?” He asked. “Yes, actually I am.” “Does scrambled eggs, corned-beefed hash, and toast sound good to you?” The words made my mouth start to water. I realized I hadn't eaten but the Danish since the previous morning. My stomach gave an audible growl and I placed my hand over it as if it would hush it. “I'll take that as a ‘yes'”, he laughed lightly. “I have to pee,” I slid out of bed and headed for the bathroom. I finished my business, washed my hands, than looked into the mirror while running my fingers through my hair. I thought I looked hideous. Then I thought again about why I was here in the first place. That's what a tart looks like. At least a satisfied one. I swallowed hard, opened the bathroom door, and walked into the bedroom to see Robb sitting on the edge of the bed in his briefs. When he saw me his jaw dropped. “My god! Wendy, you're gorgeous. Drop dead gorgeous.” I stopped dead in my tracks, looking down to see my breasts standing proud, my flat stomach, pantie clad pelvis, my shapely legs, and my red polished toenails. The sunlight coming in through the window hitting my skin warmed it ever so slightly. I looked up at him as he rose from the bed with a smile. I wasn't sure what he was going to do– grab me and take me without asking? “My turn. Why don't you get dressed, I'll join you in a minute, so we can eat.” The bathroom door closed and I walked to where my blouse and skirt lie on the floor. His words, his expression, his smile of obvious delight with my appearance all came back to me. I put my bra on, finished dressing, and sat on the edge of the bed looking around. The bedroom was tastefully decorated and there was no sign in the form of a photograph, or other articles suggesting he had a girlfriend. Okay, if he was unattached that made it easier, I wasn't the 'other woman'. At least I hoped I wasn't. I knew who my husband was screwing when I saw them from the hallway– she headed the prayer group that met on Friday nights almost every week. I had gone to several of them and stopped going as it was too much for me– touting how a woman should respect her husband and honor his wishes even if she weren't entirely onboard with it. Yes, she espoused Christian women bear the fruit of the Spirit- love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. Well, so much for faithfulness and self-control parts. Peace might work too if you spelled it 'piece' and added two words. She was thin, with big boobs, and blonde hair that came out of a bottle. I'd met her husband twice and he made my husband look really good by comparison. It was obvious to me some of her prayers hadn't been answered. That, or God's plan for her was as flawed as my own. My husband was so deep into her they never noticed I was in the house. I had simply left in tears, devastated at the sight. Robb I was a little nervous as I opened my eyes–was she going to be ashamed, guilty, for what we'd done last night? Seeing her in the dim light the night before gave me hints she was well-endowed. It hadn't taken much effort to get her to orgasm. In fact, I had hardly gotten started when she gasped, and I felt her muscles contact around me. When she got on top she didn't hold anything back– she went all out. It was when she walked out of the bathroom that I saw her in full light for the first time– she was absolutely beautiful. Her husband had to be a real piece of work to walk away from someone like her. I was pleased I'd taken a low profile approach and brought her into my arms to comfort her when we woke. When she smiled her teeth showed from between nicely formed lips, her blue eyes sparkled. Though I knew it unwise to feel so protective, it made me want to never let her go. I reminded myself again she was separated from her husband, not divorced. She could go back to him, they could work things out. There are always two sides to a story– I could be the one to ruin their marriage. I had to admit it bothered me. Shit, what was I thinking? After what I saw, this woman was hurting and I had done the right thing by her. Don't overthink this dude, she needed someone, and you were there. Wendy I sat with a glass of orange juice as he made breakfast. I felt a little awkward just sitting there doing nothing. My husband would never cook because that was a woman's job. I tried to lighten the mood a little by asking Robb what he had planned for the day– at least it was a safe question. “I volunteer at the Community Food Bank, so I'll be working there most of the afternoon.” “Really, that sounds nice, I bet you meet a lot of interesting people there.” “I do, but sometimes it's hard to see how many people with young children have to rely on it. I never knew how many people live right on the edge until I started there. It makes me appreciate I have a good education and a well-paying job.” “So, what do you do?” “Computer Aided Design, CAD, for an engineering firm. It pays well and has regular hours. How about you?” It struck me that after talking with him for hours I'd never mentioned my job once. But, then in my emotional state that was the last thing on my mind. “I work as a clerical for a law firm, close to a paralegal I guess, but they don't pay me for that.” “Wendy, I have to ask. How are you feeling? Are you going to be ready to go home and feel safe?” “He's not abusive physically, so I'm not worried about that. But, in all honesty I'm dreading having to spend the afternoon with him, and I know he'll demand it.” “Do you want to stay another few hours?” “Thanks, but I know I should go home, take a shower, and get into some fresh clothes. I'm going to have to deal with it and a few hours here won't change anything. Robb, about last night. Thank you, I mean that. I needed what you gave me. You saved me from hurting myself.” “I think you should get some professional help. That is if you can afford it.” “I can't, but I'll deal with this. I've been putting off making the decision, but after yesterday I know I'm damned if I don't.” “What decision is that?” “I want to get a divorce and move on with my life. Thanks to you, I recognize killing myself wasn't the way to punish him. He would have won in a way, and I don't want that. Call it what you will, a form of revenge in a way, if I leave him. I have friends, family, and a job that pays enough to live on if I do.” We sat silent for a minute, eating in silence. Then I looked up at him with a smile. “I promise not to do something stupid.” “I want to believe that,” he replied with a firm expression. I reached for my shoulder bag hanging on the empty chair next to me, and took out the pistol, handing it to him butt first. “Here, keep this.” He took the pistol from my hand and placed it on the counter behind him, then looked at me. “I suppose I should take you home.” “Yes, but not home. Back to the park, I can walk from there, I don't…” “I know. You don't need to say it. I wouldn't want to make things any harder for you.” “Thank you for being so understanding.” “Wendy, give me your phone so I can put my contact information in it. Just in case… well… in case you need a friend again. By the way, you stayed with my wife Cindy and me last night. You know her from… let's see… she's one of your clients from work.” I took my phone out and handed it to him. When he gave it back I checked and saw he had put in 'Robb, Com. Food Bank'. I looked at him with a frown. “Just in case someone looks at your contacts. No reason for a man's first and last name to show up– it might cause problems. If someone asks, you may decide to volunteer, and I'm the contact person.” I was pretty much lost in thought as he drove me to the park. I felt myself tense, my stomach going into knots. I got out before Robb could attempt to open the door for me and looked back into the car– my emotions mixed with good and bad. “Robb, thank you. I know it sounds lame, but you made a difference, a big one. I can't explain why I asked you to do what I asked of you, maybe it was because I wanted to feel like a desirable woman again.” “Wendy, I can't pretend to know you, all I can say is you deserve to be happy. Please, don't throw your life away, do what you need to do to move your life forward. If you ever need a friend to lean on call me. I promise to be there for you.” I watched as he drove away, then turned and took the first step back to a life filled with problems. Regardless of the outcome, I had a life to rebuild and I was determined to make it better. It was time to face my demons. Robb had given me that chance– I wasn't going to waste it. I had always been strong in the face of adversity and the one time I had faltered there was someone who cared enough to pull me through. I would always be grateful to him. Chapter 4: Reflections Robb Well, this had been two of the strangest days in my life. I save a woman from killing herself, comfort her by having sex with her, feed her breakfast, and drop her off to return to a husband who doesn't deserve her. Sure, I was recovering from a failed relationship of long standing, but I had never come close to committing suicide despite the pain. But, depression affects people in different ways and some can climb out of it, others can't without help. I hoped Wendy had the strength to do what she needed to do to make her life better. I drove home wondering if I would ever get a phone call from her in the future. After walking in the door I went to put things away in the kitchen– there was the pistol sitting where I had left it. I hefted it, it had been a long time since I had fired a pistol in the military; it still felt familiar. I walked to the bedroom and to the closet, opened my fire safe, and placed it inside along with the rounds I had taken out of the clip. Wendy I walked the fifteen minutes home thinking of what I would need to do. I walked in the door after seeing his car in the driveway– he was home. He was sitting in front of the TV watching a car race when I walked in. “Where have you been? We have to get ready for church in a few hours you know.” “I stayed with a friend last night. Sorry, I should have called, or left a text.” He looked at me with a wicked grin, “You go to the bedroom and take your clothes off. We haven't done it in a while, and I'm feeling you might be good about now.” I froze, my stomach went tight. If there was something I didn't want from him that was it. “I'm not in the mood right now, maybe later.” “I'm not interested if you're in the mood, get yourself in the mood. I'll be in after the race is over in about ten minutes.” “Honey, I'm sorry, I really don't want to, maybe after church this afternoon.” He looked at me with a scowl. “You're my wife, that means you listen to what I need, and give it when I want it. It's probably those pills you take to avoid getting pregnant. I hear they mess up a woman's mind too. It's time for you to stop taking them.” 'There's nothing wrong with my mind that getting away from you for a while won't solve. You haven't touched me in six months, and now you want me to flop onto my back for you. Well, it's not going to happen this time.“ He turned the volume down on the TV and stared at me with hard eyes, "What are you saying, you're not going to be a wife?” “What! Be a wife only when you want to be a husband! Why don't you be a husband to me instead of spending all your time with Joanne Winston,” my voice going shrill. “Joanne has nothing to do with this,” he thundered. “I'm grateful for that. My Lord, I guess you having her bent over the sofa, your cock inside her didn't mean anything.” I saw is face grow taut, his jaw moving slightly, but he didn't say anything. “Yes, I walked in and saw the both of you. You were so intent on screwing her you didn't even hear, or see me. I'm going to divorce your ass.” “You can't talk to me that way. I had a moment of weakness and I've prayed for forgiveness. I want to make it up to you.” “Oh, so you can go around screwing her for months and you expect me to forgive you. I guess I'm not the hardcore Christian woman you thought I was. I'm going to pack my clothes and things I need and find someplace else to live until the divorce is final.” He stormed towards me, grabbed my blouse and torn it open, his eyes wild, “You're in my house, you are my wife, I'm going to have you as is my right. Now, we can do it the hard way, or the easy way. But, I'm going to get my due out of you.” I knew I wasn't going to be able to stop him, he was much too large for me to resist him. My mind scrambled to find a way to tamp things down. For the first time I was afraid of being raped– by my own husband. Maybe I wasn't thinking straight, but it was the only thing that came to mind. “Well, it's about time you showed some real interest in these,” as I placed my hands under my breasts and pushed them up. I saw a look of confusion on his face. He stopped, his hands went down to his sides as his eyes remained glued on my heaving chest. I swallowed hard, it was taking every bit of strength for me to take a step toward him. I planted a kiss on his cheek, my stomach protesting, then forced a smile. “Finish watching your race, then come in and treat me as your wife. I went off the pill a month ago if you want to know.” I watched as he sat back down on the sofa, his temper had settled. I was sure he didn't even think my comment about Joanne made a difference– as far as he was concerned he'd been forgiven by the Lord. Well, I wasn't the Lord and the memory of them at the sofa was fresh in my mind. He was going to hell as far as I was concerned and I knew he would have company. He looked at me, his face stoic. “This will be over in about seven minutes. Glad you came to your senses.” His words made me want to heave. I rushed down the hall, into our bedroom, pulled out a suitcase and jammed underwear, a bra, some blouses, a few pairs of slacks, and two pairs of shoes into it. I slipped out the door into the garage as he stared at the TV. I didn't have much, but it would be enough for a few days until I could come back for more. The asshole wasn't ever going to touch me again. I rushed to my car and was away as fast as I could go, the tires squealing as I drove off. My last look was of him standing in front of the garage in my rear-view mirror– I had gotten away. I got as far as the park and pulled onto a side street and called my parents. They lived about two hours away where my husband wasn't likely to go. After a minute to settle myself, I called and told them I was coming to spend the night and would leave early for work in the morning. I Explained I would tell them what was going on when I got there. I started driving and felt my hands tremble as I gripped the steering wheel. He had intended on taking me regardless of what I wanted and the fear was now manifesting itself. I settled down after a while and the drive to my parents' home was enough time for me to reflect on my three years with him. Three full years of my life down the drain because I wasn't mature enough to know better– our relationship had gone bad after no more than a year. We had disagreed on one thing after another, at first small things, then major things– like having children, and having money in a savings account. I spilled everything to my parents, well… not everything. The pistol and Robb I omitted not wanting to admit I had been so desperate. They sat silent and let me talk and when I was finished told me they understood and would help me in any way they could. I took my suitcase into the guest bedroom and sat down on the bed. I opened the suitcase to see what I had selected in my haste to get out of the house hoping there was the right combination to wear to work the next day. I slept poorly, tossing and turning, thinking I had screwed my life up big time. I had sought revenge on by husband by sleeping with a total stranger and realized I would never use it against him. I didn't want to look like that kind of woman. He had his righteous Christian woman and the Lord had forgiven him. What did I have now? I felt asleep and jerked up with a start when the alarm went off. Chapter 5: Freudian Slip? Wendy I drove to work and stumbled into the office half awake. I struggled through the day and realized I hadn't made arrangements for a place to stay for the night. It didn't make sense to drive all the way back to my parents' house again. I hadn't closed my savings account, or made it a joint account after we married– now happy I hadn't. I went to the ATM and withdrew enough money for the week to stay in a cheap motel. It would do for the time being and I decided I wasn't going to go back for my clothes either– I'd shop for what I needed. The account was healthy enough to support me for a while, so at least I felt better about that. After work I drove to the cheapest place I knew, committing for one night. I walked into the room, put my suitcase on the chair, and fell exhausted onto the bed. I woke up three hours later feeling hungry and decided to walk down the street to a fast food place for a salad. I had put my phone on silent and when I looked at it found there were multiple calls, and text messages from my husband. I deleted all of them and blocked his number. No sense in talking with him, he could do that through my lawyer, and I'd find one before the end of the week. The week went along and the women at work knew something was up. I finally revealed I'd left my husband and was living in a motel. One of the single women offered me a room in her apartment saying she didn't use it for anything other than storing a few boxes of stuff. I accepted her offer and moved in two days later after buying a used single bed and bedding to make it up from a thrift shop. I needed to stretch my money as far as I could not knowing how long it would be before I could end my marriage. Clara was a godsend, she was always such a happy person, her personality was exactly what I needed, and I found my mood improved as the days went by. We shared expenses for food, so that helped too. The biggest change after a few days was I didn't feel stressed as much as I had before. I didn't realize how much it was taking out of me having to deal with my husband day in and day out. I found a lawyer and gave him the go ahead to do whatever was needed. He told me if my husband didn't contest the filing it could be done in a month at a modest cost. Under state law I was entitled to half of our real assets and funds held in joint accounts at the time of the filing. A week later I had diverted my paycheck to my new checking account. I was feeling better about the decision I had made when my husband showed up in the lobby of the building asking to see me. My lawyer told me it was best not to talk with him unless someone were with me, even if it were not him. I told the receptionist to tell him I was in a meeting for the rest of the day. I found out later he left after a few minutes saying he would try to see me later obviously unhappy. I was eating supper with Clara when my phone rang, it was my mother. I decided to ignore it and call her back after we finished eating. I walked into my bedroom for privacy, went to my contacts, and touched the screen. A male voice answered, thinking it was my dad who had picked up. “Hi Dad, this is Wendy. How are you?” There was a long pause, then. “Wendy, this is Robb. Are you okay?” Surprised, I stammered out a reply, then regained my composure. “How are you?” “Good, work and doing the volunteer stuff, nothing unusual. But, why are you calling me?” I didn't want to hurt his feelings by telling him I hadn't meant to call him. I was trying to come up with a plausible explanation when he offered. “You called my number by mistake didn't you?” “Yes, I'm sorry. I never took your number out of my contacts.” “I understand. So, things are going well with you and your husband?” “No. I'm in the process of getting a divorce. I'm living with a friend in her apartment until I get things settled. I hope my lawyer will have good news for me by next week.” That's great, ugh, well… not great news… “Robb, it's okay. I understand it's awkward.” “Good, it's good to know you're moving your life forward and you're safe. Well, I'll let you get back to whomever you meant to call.” “Thanks.” I replied not knowing exactly what else to say. I saw the call end and this time pressed the number for my mother: Roberta, not Robb. I would remove Robb's information after talking with her. My Mother answered and told me my husband had called her asking if she knew where I was living. I felt my heart go into my stomach. He was stilling looking for me. “Honey, I told him I didn't know where. I won't repeat what he said, it would only upset you. Your father and I think you're doing the right thing. Be strong, see this through, and when things settle down you'll find a man that's good for you.” That was my mother, always looking for the silver lining. We talked for another half hour and then I put my phone down. I would call my lawyer tomorrow and see if he had anything to tell me. I opened my contacts to delete Robb's number, my finger almost touching the screen when I pulled it back. I probably should have thanked him again for helping me. I'd call him back, then delete it after we finished talking. I selected his name, waited for the dial tone, and for him to pick up. “Robb here.” “Robb, it's Wendy again.” There was a pause. “You're alright aren't you?” I laughed. “Yes, I'm fine. I thought I should call you back and thank you again for helping me.” “Okay, you know I'm pleased you're alright. You sound good, I can almost see your smile. I remember what you look like when you wear one.” I felt myself smiling like a fool, I remembered when I had smiled at him that way. Memoires flooded my mine and I felt myself go warm remembering being in bed with him the following morning. There was a long pause between us, then I started to say something just has he did, we both stopped, another pause. “Go ahead, what did you have to say,” he offered. “I don't know, what did you want to say?” Another pause, I felt myself tense wondering now if I should have called him. “Wendy, are you free tonight?” “Yes. Well not free, but reasonable,” I replied flippantly. I heard him laugh. “Reasonable works for me. How about I come and pick you up and we can go out for a coffee.” “Robb, I'm still married. I want to, but I'm not sure it's a good idea.” “I understand, it makes sense, sorry. I guess I wasn't thinking straight.” “Robb, I would say yes otherwise. Really, I would.” - to be continued.. By R A Wallace for Literotica

A chance at a new life. by  r a wallace. Listen to the ► Podcast at Steamy Stories.  Chapter 3: Regrets? Wendy I woke the next morning lying beside a man who wasn't my husband and felt good about it. I didn't feel a bit of guilt as I looked at him. I'd done two, one-night stands in my life and wasn't excited with what I found next to me in the morning. One of the reasons I had sworn off drinking before meeting my husband. The amazing part was, I didn't feel a bit horny at the moment and wondered if that was going to be a problem–would he want more from me now?As I lay there I wondered if he had saved my life, not merely by accident because of the baseball, but because he saw I was troubled and stayed with me, so I wouldn't try to use the pistol again. That was what I had intended. I simply didn't know if he had or not, but probably. His bringing me home with him had certainly changed my thinking in that regard. I'd been ready to end my life over a man Robb felt wasn't worthy of my consideration. Not that the passion he had shown as he lay into me didn't tell me I was desirable to at least one man. It had a tremendous effect on me for reasons I didn't fully understand, and maybe never would. I felt a movement, then Robb rolled over toward me, his eyes open. When he saw me looking at him he smiled, causing me smile back. “Could you spare a kiss this morning? He asked. "You mean could I spare a kiss and something else?” “A kiss and then you let me hold you for a while. The something else is up to you.” I laughed as I rolled over onto him, “Make way mister, you're going to get an armful of woman.” I snuggled into him and heard him reply. “You mean an armful of beautiful woman.” The words melted me immediately. If he had wanted to control me for his pleasure, he had me–no contest. We lay together not speaking for a while, his hands caressing my leg and arm. I kissed his neck a few times, then snuggled and closed my eyes again–he pulled me closer. I could hear his heart beating, feel his chest rise and fall, and smell him. When was the last time I had been so intimate and comfortable with a man? I couldn't remember for sure. It was sad, but I couldn't, not even with my husband. Shit! My husband. I was going to have to go home and face him today. Would he even notice I hadn't come home? If he did would he even care? Knowing him, his only concern was that I would make him look bad–his wife not home and obedient where she should be. He would push for me to attend Fellowship with him in the afternoon to keep up appearances with the congregation. I pushed the thought away as my stomach tightened. I'd make this time with Robb last another hour, then face the reality of my life. At this juncture I realized I had one to live thanks to someone who cared enough for a woman crying on a park bench to intervene. It was as incredible as it seemed I realized. I was lying in bed with a man in my panties after he had promised to do what I asked of him to end my despair. “Are you hungry?” He asked. “Yes, actually I am.” “Does scrambled eggs, corned-beefed hash, and toast sound good to you?” The words made my mouth start to water. I realized I hadn't eaten but the Danish since the previous morning. My stomach gave an audible growl and I placed my hand over it as if it would hush it. “I'll take that as a ‘yes'”, he laughed lightly. “I have to pee,” I slid out of bed and headed for the bathroom. I finished my business, washed my hands, than looked into the mirror while running my fingers through my hair. I thought I looked hideous. Then I thought again about why I was here in the first place. That's what a tart looks like. At least a satisfied one. I swallowed hard, opened the bathroom door, and walked into the bedroom to see Robb sitting on the edge of the bed in his briefs. When he saw me his jaw dropped. “My god! Wendy, you're gorgeous. Drop dead gorgeous.” I stopped dead in my tracks, looking down to see my breasts standing proud, my flat stomach, pantie clad pelvis, my shapely legs, and my red polished toenails. The sunlight coming in through the window hitting my skin warmed it ever so slightly. I looked up at him as he rose from the bed with a smile. I wasn't sure what he was going to do– grab me and take me without asking? “My turn. Why don't you get dressed, I'll join you in a minute, so we can eat.” The bathroom door closed and I walked to where my blouse and skirt lie on the floor. His words, his expression, his smile of obvious delight with my appearance all came back to me. I put my bra on, finished dressing, and sat on the edge of the bed looking around. The bedroom was tastefully decorated and there was no sign in the form of a photograph, or other articles suggesting he had a girlfriend. Okay, if he was unattached that made it easier, I wasn't the 'other woman'. At least I hoped I wasn't. I knew who my husband was screwing when I saw them from the hallway– she headed the prayer group that met on Friday nights almost every week. I had gone to several of them and stopped going as it was too much for me– touting how a woman should respect her husband and honor his wishes even if she weren't entirely onboard with it. Yes, she espoused Christian women bear the fruit of the Spirit- love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. Well, so much for faithfulness and self-control parts. Peace might work too if you spelled it 'piece' and added two words. She was thin, with big boobs, and blonde hair that came out of a bottle. I'd met her husband twice and he made my husband look really good by comparison. It was obvious to me some of her prayers hadn't been answered. That, or God's plan for her was as flawed as my own. My husband was so deep into her they never noticed I was in the house. I had simply left in tears, devastated at the sight. Robb I was a little nervous as I opened my eyes–was she going to be ashamed, guilty, for what we'd done last night? Seeing her in the dim light the night before gave me hints she was well-endowed. It hadn't taken much effort to get her to orgasm. In fact, I had hardly gotten started when she gasped, and I felt her muscles contact around me. When she got on top she didn't hold anything back– she went all out. It was when she walked out of the bathroom that I saw her in full light for the first time– she was absolutely beautiful. Her husband had to be a real piece of work to walk away from someone like her. I was pleased I'd taken a low profile approach and brought her into my arms to comfort her when we woke. When she smiled her teeth showed from between nicely formed lips, her blue eyes sparkled. Though I knew it unwise to feel so protective, it made me want to never let her go. I reminded myself again she was separated from her husband, not divorced. She could go back to him, they could work things out. There are always two sides to a story– I could be the one to ruin their marriage. I had to admit it bothered me. Shit, what was I thinking? After what I saw, this woman was hurting and I had done the right thing by her. Don't overthink this dude, she needed someone, and you were there. Wendy I sat with a glass of orange juice as he made breakfast. I felt a little awkward just sitting there doing nothing. My husband would never cook because that was a woman's job. I tried to lighten the mood a little by asking Robb what he had planned for the day– at least it was a safe question. “I volunteer at the Community Food Bank, so I'll be working there most of the afternoon.” “Really, that sounds nice, I bet you meet a lot of interesting people there.” “I do, but sometimes it's hard to see how many people with young children have to rely on it. I never knew how many people live right on the edge until I started there. It makes me appreciate I have a good education and a well-paying job.” “So, what do you do?” “Computer Aided Design, CAD, for an engineering firm. It pays well and has regular hours. How about you?” It struck me that after talking with him for hours I'd never mentioned my job once. But, then in my emotional state that was the last thing on my mind. “I work as a clerical for a law firm, close to a paralegal I guess, but they don't pay me for that.” “Wendy, I have to ask. How are you feeling? Are you going to be ready to go home and feel safe?” “He's not abusive physically, so I'm not worried about that. But, in all honesty I'm dreading having to spend the afternoon with him, and I know he'll demand it.” “Do you want to stay another few hours?” “Thanks, but I know I should go home, take a shower, and get into some fresh clothes. I'm going to have to deal with it and a few hours here won't change anything. Robb, about last night. Thank you, I mean that. I needed what you gave me. You saved me from hurting myself.” “I think you should get some professional help. That is if you can afford it.” “I can't, but I'll deal with this. I've been putting off making the decision, but after yesterday I know I'm damned if I don't.” “What decision is that?” “I want to get a divorce and move on with my life. Thanks to you, I recognize killing myself wasn't the way to punish him. He would have won in a way, and I don't want that. Call it what you will, a form of revenge in a way, if I leave him. I have friends, family, and a job that pays enough to live on if I do.” We sat silent for a minute, eating in silence. Then I looked up at him with a smile. “I promise not to do something stupid.” “I want to believe that,” he replied with a firm expression. I reached for my shoulder bag hanging on the empty chair next to me, and took out the pistol, handing it to him butt first. “Here, keep this.” He took the pistol from my hand and placed it on the counter behind him, then looked at me. “I suppose I should take you home.” “Yes, but not home. Back to the park, I can walk from there, I don't…” “I know. You don't need to say it. I wouldn't want to make things any harder for you.” “Thank you for being so understanding.” “Wendy, give me your phone so I can put my contact information in it. Just in case… well… in case you need a friend again. By the way, you stayed with my wife Cindy and me last night. You know her from… let's see… she's one of your clients from work.” I took my phone out and handed it to him. When he gave it back I checked and saw he had put in 'Robb, Com. Food Bank'. I looked at him with a frown. “Just in case someone looks at your contacts. No reason for a man's first and last name to show up– it might cause problems. If someone asks, you may decide to volunteer, and I'm the contact person.” I was pretty much lost in thought as he drove me to the park. I felt myself tense, my stomach going into knots. I got out before Robb could attempt to open the door for me and looked back into the car– my emotions mixed with good and bad. “Robb, thank you. I know it sounds lame, but you made a difference, a big one. I can't explain why I asked you to do what I asked of you, maybe it was because I wanted to feel like a desirable woman again.” “Wendy, I can't pretend to know you, all I can say is you deserve to be happy. Please, don't throw your life away, do what you need to do to move your life forward. If you ever need a friend to lean on call me. I promise to be there for you.” I watched as he drove away, then turned and took the first step back to a life filled with problems. Regardless of the outcome, I had a life to rebuild and I was determined to make it better. It was time to face my demons. Robb had given me that chance– I wasn't going to waste it. I had always been strong in the face of adversity and the one time I had faltered there was someone who cared enough to pull me through. I would always be grateful to him. Chapter 4: Reflections Robb Well, this had been two of the strangest days in my life. I save a woman from killing herself, comfort her by having sex with her, feed her breakfast, and drop her off to return to a husband who doesn't deserve her. Sure, I was recovering from a failed relationship of long standing, but I had never come close to committing suicide despite the pain. But, depression affects people in different ways and some can climb out of it, others can't without help. I hoped Wendy had the strength to do what she needed to do to make her life better. I drove home wondering if I would ever get a phone call from her in the future. After walking in the door I went to put things away in the kitchen– there was the pistol sitting where I had left it. I hefted it, it had been a long time since I had fired a pistol in the military; it still felt familiar. I walked to the bedroom and to the closet, opened my fire safe, and placed it inside along with the rounds I had taken out of the clip. Wendy I walked the fifteen minutes home thinking of what I would need to do. I walked in the door after seeing his car in the driveway– he was home. He was sitting in front of the TV watching a car race when I walked in. “Where have you been? We have to get ready for church in a few hours you know.” “I stayed with a friend last night. Sorry, I should have called, or left a text.” He looked at me with a wicked grin, “You go to the bedroom and take your clothes off. We haven't done it in a while, and I'm feeling you might be good about now.” I froze, my stomach went tight. If there was something I didn't want from him that was it. “I'm not in the mood right now, maybe later.” “I'm not interested if you're in the mood, get yourself in the mood. I'll be in after the race is over in about ten minutes.” “Honey, I'm sorry, I really don't want to, maybe after church this afternoon.” He looked at me with a scowl. “You're my wife, that means you listen to what I need, and give it when I want it. It's probably those pills you take to avoid getting pregnant. I hear they mess up a woman's mind too. It's time for you to stop taking them.” 'There's nothing wrong with my mind that getting away from you for a while won't solve. You haven't touched me in six months, and now you want me to flop onto my back for you. Well, it's not going to happen this time.“ He turned the volume down on the TV and stared at me with hard eyes, "What are you saying, you're not going to be a wife?” “What! Be a wife only when you want to be a husband! Why don't you be a husband to me instead of spending all your time with Joanne Winston,” my voice going shrill. “Joanne has nothing to do with this,” he thundered. “I'm grateful for that. My Lord, I guess you having her bent over the sofa, your cock inside her didn't mean anything.” I saw is face grow taut, his jaw moving slightly, but he didn't say anything. “Yes, I walked in and saw the both of you. You were so intent on screwing her you didn't even hear, or see me. I'm going to divorce your ass.” “You can't talk to me that way. I had a moment of weakness and I've prayed for forgiveness. I want to make it up to you.” “Oh, so you can go around screwing her for months and you expect me to forgive you. I guess I'm not the hardcore Christian woman you thought I was. I'm going to pack my clothes and things I need and find someplace else to live until the divorce is final.” He stormed towards me, grabbed my blouse and torn it open, his eyes wild, “You're in my house, you are my wife, I'm going to have you as is my right. Now, we can do it the hard way, or the easy way. But, I'm going to get my due out of you.” I knew I wasn't going to be able to stop him, he was much too large for me to resist him. My mind scrambled to find a way to tamp things down. For the first time I was afraid of being raped– by my own husband. Maybe I wasn't thinking straight, but it was the only thing that came to mind. “Well, it's about time you showed some real interest in these,” as I placed my hands under my breasts and pushed them up. I saw a look of confusion on his face. He stopped, his hands went down to his sides as his eyes remained glued on my heaving chest. I swallowed hard, it was taking every bit of strength for me to take a step toward him. I planted a kiss on his cheek, my stomach protesting, then forced a smile. “Finish watching your race, then come in and treat me as your wife. I went off the pill a month ago if you want to know.” I watched as he sat back down on the sofa, his temper had settled. I was sure he didn't even think my comment about Joanne made a difference– as far as he was concerned he'd been forgiven by the Lord. Well, I wasn't the Lord and the memory of them at the sofa was fresh in my mind. He was going to hell as far as I was concerned and I knew he would have company. He looked at me, his face stoic. “This will be over in about seven minutes. Glad you came to your senses.” His words made me want to heave. I rushed down the hall, into our bedroom, pulled out a suitcase and jammed underwear, a bra, some blouses, a few pairs of slacks, and two pairs of shoes into it. I slipped out the door into the garage as he stared at the TV. I didn't have much, but it would be enough for a few days until I could come back for more. The asshole wasn't ever going to touch me again. I rushed to my car and was away as fast as I could go, the tires squealing as I drove off. My last look was of him standing in front of the garage in my rear-view mirror– I had gotten away. I got as far as the park and pulled onto a side street and called my parents. They lived about two hours away where my husband wasn't likely to go. After a minute to settle myself, I called and told them I was coming to spend the night and would leave early for work in the morning. I Explained I would tell them what was going on when I got there. I started driving and felt my hands tremble as I gripped the steering wheel. He had intended on taking me regardless of what I wanted and the fear was now manifesting itself. I settled down after a while and the drive to my parents' home was enough time for me to reflect on my three years with him. Three full years of my life down the drain because I wasn't mature enough to know better– our relationship had gone bad after no more than a year. We had disagreed on one thing after another, at first small things, then major things– like having children, and having money in a savings account. I spilled everything to my parents, well… not everything. The pistol and Robb I omitted not wanting to admit I had been so desperate. They sat silent and let me talk and when I was finished told me they understood and would help me in any way they could. I took my suitcase into the guest bedroom and sat down on the bed. I opened the suitcase to see what I had selected in my haste to get out of the house hoping there was the right combination to wear to work the next day. I slept poorly, tossing and turning, thinking I had screwed my life up big time. I had sought revenge on by husband by sleeping with a total stranger and realized I would never use it against him. I didn't want to look like that kind of woman. He had his righteous Christian woman and the Lord had forgiven him. What did I have now? I felt asleep and jerked up with a start when the alarm went off. Chapter 5: Freudian Slip? Wendy I drove to work and stumbled into the office half awake. I struggled through the day and realized I hadn't made arrangements for a place to stay for the night. It didn't make sense to drive all the way back to my parents' house again. I hadn't closed my savings account, or made it a joint account after we married– now happy I hadn't. I went to the ATM and withdrew enough money for the week to stay in a cheap motel. It would do for the time being and I decided I wasn't going to go back for my clothes either– I'd shop for what I needed. The account was healthy enough to support me for a while, so at least I felt better about that. After work I drove to the cheapest place I knew, committing for one night. I walked into the room, put my suitcase on the chair, and fell exhausted onto the bed. I woke up three hours later feeling hungry and decided to walk down the street to a fast food place for a salad. I had put my phone on silent and when I looked at it found there were multiple calls, and text messages from my husband. I deleted all of them and blocked his number. No sense in talking with him, he could do that through my lawyer, and I'd find one before the end of the week. The week went along and the women at work knew something was up. I finally revealed I'd left my husband and was living in a motel. One of the single women offered me a room in her apartment saying she didn't use it for anything other than storing a few boxes of stuff. I accepted her offer and moved in two days later after buying a used single bed and bedding to make it up from a thrift shop. I needed to stretch my money as far as I could not knowing how long it would be before I could end my marriage. Clara was a godsend, she was always such a happy person, her personality was exactly what I needed, and I found my mood improved as the days went by. We shared expenses for food, so that helped too. The biggest change after a few days was I didn't feel stressed as much as I had before. I didn't realize how much it was taking out of me having to deal with my husband day in and day out. I found a lawyer and gave him the go ahead to do whatever was needed. He told me if my husband didn't contest the filing it could be done in a month at a modest cost. Under state law I was entitled to half of our real assets and funds held in joint accounts at the time of the filing. A week later I had diverted my paycheck to my new checking account. I was feeling better about the decision I had made when my husband showed up in the lobby of the building asking to see me. My lawyer told me it was best not to talk with him unless someone were with me, even if it were not him. I told the receptionist to tell him I was in a meeting for the rest of the day. I found out later he left after a few minutes saying he would try to see me later obviously unhappy. I was eating supper with Clara when my phone rang, it was my mother. I decided to ignore it and call her back after we finished eating. I walked into my bedroom for privacy, went to my contacts, and touched the screen. A male voice answered, thinking it was my dad who had picked up. “Hi Dad, this is Wendy. How are you?” There was a long pause, then. “Wendy, this is Robb. Are you okay?” Surprised, I stammered out a reply, then regained my composure. “How are you?” “Good, work and doing the volunteer stuff, nothing unusual. But, why are you calling me?” I didn't want to hurt his feelings by telling him I hadn't meant to call him. I was trying to come up with a plausible explanation when he offered. “You called my number by mistake didn't you?” “Yes, I'm sorry. I never took your number out of my contacts.” “I understand. So, things are going well with you and your husband?” “No. I'm in the process of getting a divorce. I'm living with a friend in her apartment until I get things settled. I hope my lawyer will have good news for me by next week.” That's great, ugh, well… not great news… “Robb, it's okay. I understand it's awkward.” “Good, it's good to know you're moving your life forward and you're safe. Well, I'll let you get back to whomever you meant to call.” “Thanks.” I replied not knowing exactly what else to say. I saw the call end and this time pressed the number for my mother: Roberta, not Robb. I would remove Robb's information after talking with her. My Mother answered and told me my husband had called her asking if she knew where I was living. I felt my heart go into my stomach. He was stilling looking for me. “Honey, I told him I didn't know where. I won't repeat what he said, it would only upset you. Your father and I think you're doing the right thing. Be strong, see this through, and when things settle down you'll find a man that's good for you.” That was my mother, always looking for the silver lining. We talked for another half hour and then I put my phone down. I would call my lawyer tomorrow and see if he had anything to tell me. I opened my contacts to delete Robb's number, my finger almost touching the screen when I pulled it back. I probably should have thanked him again for helping me. I'd call him back, then delete it after we finished talking. I selected his name, waited for the dial tone, and for him to pick up. “Robb here.” “Robb, it's Wendy again.” There was a pause. “You're alright aren't you?” I laughed. “Yes, I'm fine. I thought I should call you back and thank you again for helping me.” “Okay, you know I'm pleased you're alright. You sound good, I can almost see your smile. I remember what you look like when you wear one.” I felt myself smiling like a fool, I remembered when I had smiled at him that way. Memoires flooded my mine and I felt myself go warm remembering being in bed with him the following morning. There was a long pause between us, then I started to say something just has he did, we both stopped, another pause. “Go ahead, what did you have to say,” he offered. “I don't know, what did you want to say?” Another pause, I felt myself tense wondering now if I should have called him. “Wendy, are you free tonight?” “Yes. Well not free, but reasonable,” I replied flippantly. I heard him laugh. “Reasonable works for me. How about I come and pick you up and we can go out for a coffee.” “Robb, I'm still married. I want to, but I'm not sure it's a good idea.” “I understand, it makes sense, sorry. I guess I wasn't thinking straight.” “Robb, I would say yes otherwise. Really, I would.” - to be continued.. By R A Wallace for Literotica

« Je pense que ce qui a séduit mes parents ici, c'est la liberté totale, une rusticité tout à fait originale, pas d'électricité, pas de voiture, la marche, la nage, la plongée, la pêche…Un environnement bienveillant et calme. »Frédéric est né à Forcalquier en 1950. Il a grandi au Maroc entre Tanger et Casablanca où son père exerçait comme professeur de lettres. Il rentre avec sa famille tous les ans en France pour les vacances qu'il partage entre le Lot et l'île du Levant où il passe plus d'1 mois et demi. Ses parents ont découvert l'île en 1949 pendant leur voyage de noces et en sont tombés amoureux au point d'y acheter une petite maison en 1958. De retour en France en 1968 après son bac, sa famille s'installe au port d'Hyères. Poussé par son père, il se lance dans des études de marine marchande à Marseille puis au Havre. Il fait carrière à la SNCM pendant 25 ans. En 2007, au décès de sa mère, Frédéric s'installe avec sa femme au Levant. Très vite il s'engage dans la vie levantine, comme conseiller au syndic entre 2007 et 2016, puis à partir de 2018 comme adjoint spécial. Avec Frédéric, on a parlé du Maroc, de l'Histoire du Levant, de la zone militaire, des enjeux à venir, de naturisme, de transmission et de cétacés. L'article complet et toutes les notes et références citées dans l'épisode sont à retrouver sur https://fragileporquerolles.com/frederic-capoulade/Support the show Me suivre sur instagram : https://www.instagram.com/fragile_porquerolles/ Me soutenir sur Tipeee : https://fr.tipeee.com/fragile-porquerolles-1 Vous pouvez me laisser des étoiles et un avis sur Apple Podcasts et Spotify, ça aide ! Si vous souhaitez m'envoyer un mail: fragileporquerolles@gmail.com

Nous sommes à la fin du XVIIIe siècle, au château de Dux, dans le royaume de Bohème, aujourd'hui en République Tchèque. C'est là que Giacomo Casanova, malade, a trouvé refuge et occupe le poste de bibliothécaire du comte de Waldstein. A l'aube d'une existence mouvementée, le sexagénaire, né à Venise en 1725, entame, en français, la rédaction de ses Mémoires. Le manuscrit que son auteur a intitulé « Histoire de Jacques Casanova de Seingalt vénitien, écrite par lui-même à Dux, en Bohême » sera conservé plus de vingt ans dans sa famille sans être publié. A partir des années 1820, racheté par un éditeur allemand, le texte traduit en allemand, retraduit en français, piraté, réécrit, expurgé, fait l'objet de plusieurs éditions médiocres sous différents titres. Puis son contenu jugé scandaleux le fait mettre à l'Index des livres interdits. Il faudra attendre plus d'un siècle pour que l'ouvrage soit publié dans une édition conforme au manuscrit originel, sous le titre « Histoire de ma vie. » Le texte de Casanova accède au statut de « monument de la littérature ». Au XXe siècle, beaucoup d'écrivains et d'érudits voient le séducteur comme le représentant d'une sorte de libération amoureuse, d'un libertinage garant de l'égalité hommes-femmes. Lui qui pourtant écrit : « Dans ma longue carrière libertine, pendant laquelle mon penchant invincible pour le beau sexe m'a fait mettre en usage tous les moyens de séduction, j'ai fait tourner la tête à quelques centaines de femmes dont les charmes s'étaient emparés de ma raison ; mais ce qui m'a constamment le mieux servi, c'est que j'ai eu soin de n'attaquer les novices, celles dont les principes moraux ou les préjugés étaient un obstacle à la réussite, qu'en société d'une autre femme. J'ai su de bonne heure qu'une fille se laisse difficilement séduire, faute de courage ; tandis que lorsqu'elle est avec une amie, elle se rend avec assez de facilité ; les faiblesses de l'une causent la chute de l'autre. » Alors, Casanova : gentil libertin, ami des femmes ou ogre libidineux, imposteur, avide de reconnaissance ? Avec les Lumières de : Michel Brix, historien de la littérature, membre de l'Académie royale de Langue et de Littérature Françaises de Belgique. "Libertinage des Lumières et guerre des sexes" ; éditions Kimé, 2018. Sujets traités : Giacomo Casanova, Venise, Mémoires, Bohême,libertinage, sexe, libidineux, imposteur Merci pour votre écoute Un Jour dans l'Histoire, c'est également en direct tous les jours de la semaine de 13h15 à 14h30 sur www.rtbf.be/lapremiere Retrouvez tous les épisodes d'Un Jour dans l'Histoire sur notre plateforme Auvio.be :https://auvio.rtbf.be/emission/5936 Intéressés par l'histoire ? Vous pourriez également aimer nos autres podcasts : L'Histoire Continue: https://audmns.com/kSbpELwL'heure H : https://audmns.com/YagLLiKEt sa version à écouter en famille : La Mini Heure H https://audmns.com/YagLLiKAinsi que nos séries historiques :Chili, le Pays de mes Histoires : https://audmns.com/XHbnevhD-Day : https://audmns.com/JWRdPYIJoséphine Baker : https://audmns.com/wCfhoEwLa folle histoire de l'aviation : https://audmns.com/xAWjyWCLes Jeux Olympiques, l'étonnant miroir de notre Histoire : https://audmns.com/ZEIihzZMarguerite, la Voix d'une Résistante : https://audmns.com/zFDehnENapoléon, le crépuscule de l'Aigle : https://audmns.com/DcdnIUnUn Jour dans le Sport : https://audmns.com/xXlkHMHSous le sable des Pyramides : https://audmns.com/rXfVppvN'oubliez pas de vous y abonner pour ne rien manquer.Et si vous avez apprécié ce podcast, n'hésitez pas à nous donner des étoiles ou des commentaires, cela nous aide à le faire connaître plus largement. Distribué par Audiomeans. Visitez audiomeans.fr/politique-de-confidentialite pour plus d'informations.

« Cette île a quelque chose de très spirituel. Il y a un sens à la vie pour moi ici. La nature est belle, généreuse, rude parfois. C'est un endroit où l'on envie de prier, pour certains de méditer… Pour moi, c'est une preuve de l'existence de Dieu. » Michel est propriétaire du Bazar de l'île. Il a découvert le Levant en 1980, amené ici par celui qui deviendra son conjoint, Berty, qui l'a précédé en tant que propriétaire du Bazar. A l'époque, il est encore étudiant et réside chez ses parents à Paris. A partir de cette période, Le Levant devient le lieu de ses vacances. En 1995, Berty achète une maison sur l'île, puis Le Bazar en 1997. Il poursuit sa vie professionnelle à Paris d'abord en tant qu'artisan encadreur puis comme cadre commercial jusqu'en 2005, année où il décide de rejoindre son mari au Levant et de prendre sa suite au Bazar.Avec Michel on a parlé de religion, d'éducation par l'exemple, de la question de l'eau au Levant, d'homosexualité, de naturisme, d'électricité, de tolérance et de voyages.L'article complet et toutes les notes et références citées dans l'épisode sont à retrouver sur https://fragileporquerolles.com/michel-guinard/Support the show Me suivre sur instagram : https://www.instagram.com/fragile_porquerolles/ Me soutenir sur Tipeee : https://fr.tipeee.com/fragile-porquerolles-1 Vous pouvez me laisser des étoiles et un avis sur Apple Podcasts et Spotify, ça aide ! Si vous souhaitez m'envoyer un mail: fragileporquerolles@gmail.com

Deborah and I got together again for coffee and just to talk. Deborah's biological father is The King - Elvis Presley! Her recently published book - Memoires of a Starseed Child - Elvis, Marlon, Christian and me, is currently available on Amazon, Thrift Books, and all outlets. She talks about discovering she is Elvis Presley's biological child, her marriage to Christian Brando and life in general.Deborah is also very involved with the Mormon church, and talks about her work within the LDS family.I know you will love this episode - just two friends talking about life in general :)

Podcast nostalgique avec le collectionneur et créateurs du Pro Wrestling Guides Yan O'Cain. Il nous montre ça collection, l'historique et nos mémoires de jeunesse concernant les VHS. Bon Podcast!Pour nous suivre…Facebook:https://www.facebook.com/Entre2chaisesdemetal?mibextid=LQQJ4dInstagram:https://www.instagram.com/entre2chaisesdemetal?igsh=MTZ1aWM5bWZ2NG51cA==Youtube:https://youtube.com/@entredeuxchaisesdemetal2377?si=L5iq6WRdfYHQ3mElApple Podcast:https://podcasts.apple.com/ca/podcast/entre-deux-chaises-de-metal/id1546525482Balado Quebec:https://baladoquebec.ca/entre-deux-chaises-de-metalSpotify:https://anchor.fm/entre-deux-chaises-de-mtaCWC:https://www.facebook.com/groups/canadianwrestlingcollectors/?ref=shareLWA:https://www.facebook.com/LWALiveWrestlingAuctions/WCA:https://www.facebook.com/wrestlingcollectibleauction?mibextid=LQQJ4dGPW:https://www.facebook.com/GatineauProWrestling?mibextid=LQQJ4dArriba!!

« Il y a un charme profond sur cette île et une sérénité du lieu. Ce qui l'emporte c'est la nature et ce qu'elle dégage, un magnétisme, une force qui est très prégnante. »Laurette est née en Tunisie au début des années 50 où elle est restée jusqu'à ses 8 ans avant de s'installer avec ses parents et ses 2 frères à Hyères où elle a fait toute votre scolarité. A 17 ans elle rencontre le futur père de son fils, levantin, qui lui fait découvrir l'île du Levant. Elle s'y rend pour la première fois en 1972 pour finalement ne plus jamais en repartir. Cela fait 50 ans que Laurette y réside une bonne partie de l'année. Après plus de 30 ans à la tête de la Pomme d'Adam, bar-restaurant historique de l'île, d'engagement dans la vie associative et de création artistique -Laurette a notamment réalisé cette sculpture tournée vers le large et qui accueille les visiteurs, intitulée La Maternité - elle continue de s'investir pour son île et de créer la vie douce et foisonnante qui lui ressemble.Avec Laurette on a parlé de la Pomme d'Adam, de peinture et de sculpture, de maternité, de naturisme, de ciel, de roche et de mer, d'électricité et de magnétisme.L'article complet et toutes les notes et références citées dans l'épisode sont à retrouver sur https://fragileporquerolles.com/laurette-alario/Support the show Me suivre sur instagram : https://www.instagram.com/fragile_porquerolles/ Me soutenir sur Tipeee : https://fr.tipeee.com/fragile-porquerolles-1 Vous pouvez me laisser des étoiles et un avis sur Apple Podcasts et Spotify, ça aide ! Si vous souhaitez m'envoyer un mail: fragileporquerolles@gmail.com

Memoires van Nederlands bekendste verloskundige, de jaren 1986-1995 Uitgegeven door Nijgh & Van Ditmar Spreker: Ilse Warringa

« Ce que je ressens ici c'est ce rapport à la poésie, à la douceur. C'est facile ici. Je pense que c'est quelque chose qui manque effroyablement dans notre monde. »Pascale est une enfant de l'île. D'origine allemande, ses grands-parents, adeptes du naturisme, achètent un terrain sur l'île du Levant dans les années 50. Sa mère et son père, hollandais, se rencontrent ici alors qu'ils sont en vacances et décident de s'y installer. Pascale grandit sur l'île où elle vit aujourd'hui à l'année. Elle y tient depuis 2016 une boutique de vêtements et de souvenirs.Avec Pascale on a parlé de lumière, de freie körper kultur, de nature, de poésie et de douceur.L'article complet et toutes les notes et références citées dans l'épisode sont à retrouver sur https://fragileporquerolles.com/pascale-karels/Support the show Me suivre sur instagram : https://www.instagram.com/fragile_porquerolles/ Me soutenir sur Tipeee : https://fr.tipeee.com/fragile-porquerolles-1 Vous pouvez me laisser des étoiles et un avis sur Apple Podcasts et Spotify, ça aide ! Si vous souhaitez m'envoyer un mail: fragileporquerolles@gmail.com

Dinsdagavond werden de langverwachte memoires van Angela Merkel gepresenteerd in Berlijn. In ruim 700 pagina's reflecteert de voormalig bondskanselier van Duitsland op haar lange politieke carrière. Correspondent Rob Savelberg heeft de voormalig bondskanselier van Duitsland ruim 15 jaar van dichtbij gevolgd. In het Telegraafkwartier deelt hij een reeks opvallende onthullingen uit het boek. Merkel toont nauwelijks spijt over haar gekozen koers, is dat terecht?See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Ce mardi 26 novembre, l'autobiographie politique d'Angela Merkel, intitulée "Liberté", a été abordée par Caroline Loyer dans sa chronique, dans l'émission Good Morning Business, présentée par Laure Closier, sur BFM Business. Retrouvez l'émission du lundi au vendredi et réécoutez la en podcast.

Vandaag verscheen de vuistdikke autobiografie van Angela Merkel, van 2005 tot 2021 Bondskanselier van Duitsland. In het 700 pagina's tellende werk reflecteert ze op haar lange politieke carrière. Zelf vindt ze dat ze nauwelijks steken heeft laten vallen, maar is dat een terechte conclusie? Was haar opstelling richting Poetin bijvoorbeeld niet te soft? En sloeg haar vluchtelingenpolitiek de plank mis? Presentator Tijs van den Brink gaat erover in gesprek met: * Rob Savelberg, journalist en Duitsland-correspondent voor De Telegraaf * Ron Keller, oud-diplomaat * Hanco Jürgens, onderzoeker bij het Duitsland Instituut 

Sylvette et Michelle sont sœurs. Leur famille vit sur l'île du Levant depuis 3 générations.Leurs grands-parents paternels se sont rencontrés au Levant dans les années 1920. Louis, leur grand-père est pêcheur, il navigue avec les ravitailleurs des phares et balises et rencontre Adrienne leur grand-mère, alors gouvernante dans une famille à Port-Cros.De leur union naissent 3 enfants, 2 filles et un garçon, leur père Jacques qui voit le jour en 1924 et rencontrera leur mère Denise après la guerre en 46 quand elle prendra ses fonctions en tant qu'institutrice sur l'île.Leur grand-frère Jean-Louis nait en 1948 et quelques mois plus tard leur mère part enseigner à Port-Cros où elle exercera jusqu'en 1956. Sylvette et Michèle voient le jour respectivement en 52 et 53, avec, explique Sylvette, « 1 pied sur les 2 îles », leur père continuant de résider au Levant où il construit l'Hôtel restaurant « la Reserve ».Aujourd'hui, Le Levant est devenu pour l'une et l'autre leur résidence secondaire puisque Sylvette vit à Hyeres et Michèle, sur une autre île, lointaine celle-ci, St Barthélemy.Avec Sylvette et Michèle, on a parlé d'identité et de souvenirs insulaires, d'esprit naturiste, de soleil, de tolérance et de liberté.Un épisode pour les amoureux des 3 îles...L'article complet et toutes les notes et références citées dans l'épisode sont à retrouver sur https://fragileporquerolles.com/sylvette-michele-viale/ Dans cet épisode, Sylvette et Michèle font référence à 3 personnalités de Port-Cros et du Levant déjà interviewées dans le podcast dont je vous mets les liens ici si vous souhaitez poursuivre le récit de ces îles: Pierre Buffet, propriétaire du Manoir de Port-Cros: https://fragileporquerolles.com/pierre-buffet-port-cros/ Janine Seemuller, institutrice sur les îles du Levant et de Port-Cros: https://fragileporquerolles.com/janine-port-cros/Alain Pegliasco, marin et enfant du Levant: https://fragileporquerolles.com/port-cros-apegliasco/Support the show Me suivre sur instagram : https://www.instagram.com/fragile_porquerolles/ Me soutenir sur Tipeee : https://fr.tipeee.com/fragile-porquerolles-1 Vous pouvez me laisser des étoiles et un avis sur Apple Podcasts et Spotify, ça aide ! Si vous souhaitez m'envoyer un mail: fragileporquerolles@gmail.com

De eerlijke, bij tijden hilarische memoires van een gevierd predikant die zijn glansrijke carrière in duigen ziet vallen als hij wordt beschuldigd van grensoverschrijdend gedrag. Uitgegeven door KokBoekencentrum Non-Fictie Spreker: Marc-Peter van der Maas

(1) Verrassingsaanval Hamas 7 oktober '23 toch niet zo'n verrassing (2) Lia van Bekhoven las memoires Boris Johnson (3) 1 op 7 studenten doet aan zelfverminking (4) Nobelprijs Geneeskunde naar ontdekking MicroRNA (5) Middagjournaal van Stella Bergsma

Na een druk seizoen van partijcongressen kunnen de politici weer een beetje ademhalen en de dassen wat losser knopen. Want na deze week is het voorbij en gaat men weer over tot de orde van de dag. Voor ons een mooi moment om terug te blikken op al het 'moois' wat we hebben gezien en vooral gehoord van de verschillende partijen. Ook in deze aflevering van de nieuwe garde naar de oude garde:  Zowel in Engeland als in Nederland zijn de memoires van Boris Johnson vanaf 10 oktober te koop. Unleashed in het Engels, Ontketend in het Nederlands. Welke passages vielen op in het ruim 750 bladzijden tellende boek van de voormalig Britse premier? Over Van Bekhovens Britten In van Bekhovens Britten praten Lia van Bekhoven en Connor Clerx elke week over de grootste nieuwsonderwerpen en de belangrijkste ontwikkelingen in het Verenigd Koninkrijk. Van Brexit naar binnenlandse politiek, van de Royals tot de tabloids. Waarom fascineert het VK Nederlanders meer dan zo veel andere Europese landen? Welke rol speelt het vooralsnog Verenigd Koninkrijk in Europa, nu het woord Brexit uit het Britse leven lijkt verbannen, maar de gevolgen van de beslissing om uit de EU te stappen iedere dag duidelijker worden? De Britse monarchie, en daarmee de staat, staat voor grote veranderingen na de dood van Queen Elisabeth en de kroning van haar zoon Charles. De populariteit van het Koningshuis staat op een dieptepunt. Hoe verandert de Britse monarchie onder koning Charles, en welke gevolgen heeft dat voor de Gemenebest? In Van Bekhovens Britten analyseren Lia en Connor een Koninkrijk met tanende welvaart, invloed en macht. De Conservatieve Partij leverde veertien jaar op rij de premier, maar nu heeft Labour onder Keir Starmer de teugels in handen. Hoe ziet het VK er onder Keir Starmer uit? En hoe gaan de ‘gewone' Britten, voor zover die bestaan, daar mee om?  Al deze vragen en meer komen aan bod in Van Bekhovens Britten. Een kritische blik op het Verenigd Koninkrijk, waar het een race tussen Noord-Ierland en Schotland lijkt te worden wie zich het eerst af kan scheiden van het VK. Hoe lang blijft het Koninkrijk verenigd? Na ruim 45 jaar onder de Britten heeft Lia van Bekhoven een unieke kijk op het Verenigd Koninkrijk. Als inwoner, maar zeker geen anglofiel, heeft ze een scherpe blik op het nieuws, de politiek, de monarchie en het dagelijkse leven aan de overkant van de Noordzee. Elke woensdag krijg je een nieuwe podcast over het leven van Van Bekhovens Britten in je podcastapp. Scherpe analyses, diepgang waar op de radio geen tijd voor is en een flinke portie humor. Abonneer en mis geen aflevering. Over Lia Lia van Bekhoven is correspondent Verenigd Koninkrijk voor onder andere BNR Nieuwsradio, VRT, Knack en Elsevier en is regelmatig in talkshows te zien als duider van het nieuws uit het VK. Ze woont sinds 1976 in Londen, en is naast correspondent voor radio, televisie en geschreven media ook auteur van de boeken Mama gaat uit dansen, het erfgoed van Diana, prinses van Wales (1997), Land van de gespleten God, Noord-Ierland en de troubles (2000), In Londen, 9 wandelingen door de Britse hoofdstad (2009) en Klein-Brittannië (2022).See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Guest host Megan Williams speaks with Tolu Olorunnipa, Molly Ball and Keith Boag about the attack at Donald Trump's campaign rally on Saturday, Kelly and Zach Weinersmith lay out the challenges that scientists and policy makers face when it comes to surviving on Mars, authors Heather O'Neill, Sarah Weinman, and Stephen Marche speak on how the literary world has been rocked by the revelation surrounding Alice Munro, and Kent Monkman and Gisele Gordon share their story of teaming up to write The Memoires of Miss Chief Eagle Testickle: A True and Exact Accounting of the History Turtle Island.Find more at at https://www.cbc.ca/sunday

« Je me souviens de la guerre. En 2022 comme en 1942, ce n'est pas un souvenir (…) le passé n'arrive pas. Je ne me souviens pas de la guerre. La Guerre mord jusqu'au lever de l'aurore. Ça va durer longtemps cette nuit ? » : c'est la question que pose Hélène Cixous dans son dernier livre (« Incendire. Qu'est-ce qu'on emporte ? Gallimard). Cette figure majeure de la littérature française, amie du philosophe Jacques Derrida est née en 1937 à Oran et elle dit être « datée par la guerre ». Hélène Cixous nous reçoit chez elle pour un entretien exceptionnel. Il y est question des guerres d'hier et d'aujourd'hui -celle en Ukraine et celle entre Israël et le Hamas-, de la mémoire, de ses liens avec les livres, ses morts et ses chats ! Hélène Cixous qui affirme, aussi, que « penser, c'est courageux ». A lire, aussi : « Rêvoir » (Gallimard) et « Il faut bien aimer. Séminaire 2004-2007) (Gallimard). Ce numéro vous avait déjà été proposé en février 2024. Merci pour votre écoute Et Dieu dans tout ça ? c'est également en direct tous les dimanches de 13h à 14h sur www.rtbf.be/lapremiere Retrouvez tous les épisodes de Et Dieu dans tout ça ? sur notre plateforme Auvio.be : https://auvio.rtbf.be/emission/180 Et si vous avez apprécié ce podcast, n'hésitez pas à nous donner des étoiles ou des commentaires, cela nous aide à le faire connaître plus largement.

Nous sommes en 1627, à Jaktorow, petit village du centre-est de la Pologne. C'est là, dans une forêt avoisinante, que s'éteint, à l'âge de trente ans, le dernier Bos Primigenius, autrement dit Aurochs, ancêtre de tous les bovins, apparu il y a, environ , cinq cents mille ans. C'est une femelle. Une pierre commémorative, inaugurée le 14 mai 1972, en rappelle encore, aujourd'hui, le souvenir. C'est l'histoire de l'Aurochs que nous allons vous raconter : de sa déification à sa disparition, de ses représentations à Lascaux aux tentative de reconstitution. Invité : Claude Guintard, docteur vétérinaire, maître de conférences à l'école nationale, vétérinaire de Nantes et Dr es sciences du Museum national d'histoire naturelle à Paris. Fondateur et président du SIERDA, Syndicat international pour l'élevage, la reconnaissance et le développement de l'Aurochs-reconstitué. Auteur, avec Olivier Néron de Surgy de « L'Aurochs, de Lascaux au XXIe siècle » aux éditions Gerfaut. Sujets traités : Aurochs, mémoires, Pologne, Lascaux, bovins, Bos Primigenius Merci pour votre écoute Un Jour dans l'Histoire, c'est également en direct tous les jours de la semaine de 13h15 à 14h30 sur www.rtbf.be/lapremiere Retrouvez tous les épisodes d'Un Jour dans l'Histoire sur notre plateforme Auvio.be : https://auvio.rtbf.be/emission/5936 Et si vous avez apprécié ce podcast, n'hésitez pas à nous donner des étoiles ou des commentaires, cela nous aide à le faire connaître plus largement.

Een week voor hij afgelopen kerst overleed schreef hij de laatste zinnen van zijn Erinnerungen. Wolfgang Schaüble was de langst dienende parlementariër van democratisch Duitsland, een kampioen in politiek en bestuur, vurig Europeaan, fijnzinnig, bewonderd en gevreesd.Zijn memoires kwamen geheel onverwacht. Zijn een politieke sensatie. Jaap Jansen praat met PG Kroeger over dat rijke boek, dit dramatische leven, de finesses van de staatsman, zijn hardheid, zijn humor en zijn blijvende betekenis. Vanuit Berlijn praat liberaal Bondsdaglid Otto Fricke mee.***Deze aflevering is mede mogelijk gemaakt met donaties van luisteraars die we hiervoor hartelijk danken. Word ook vriend van de show!Heb je belangstelling om in onze podcast te adverteren of ons te sponsoren? Zend een mailtje naar adverteren@dagennacht.nl en wij zoeken contact.Op sommige podcast-apps kun je niet alles lezen. De complete tekst en een overzicht van al onze eerdere afleveringen vind je hier***Schaüble vertelt openhartig, verrassend fair en zelfkritisch over zijn belevenissen als Bondsdaglid vanaf 1972 en hoe hij met Helmut Kohl als Junge Wilde hun bedaagde CDU openbraken. Vanaf 1983 is hij zelf ineens de op één na machtigste man in Kohls regering. Hij raakt meteen verzeild in de meest geheime, riskante situaties als directe contactman met de dictatuur in Oost-Berlijn.Schaüble beleeft zo van binnenuit de ondergang van het Oostblok en de Stasi-tirannie. En de absurdistische kanten daarvan tijdens een wandelvakantie. De val van de Muur maakte dat hij de klus van zijn leven kreeg: in een moordend tempo onderhandelen over de Wiedervereinigung van Oost en West. In die historische dagen ontdekt hij de dan nog onbekende Angela Merkel.Dramatisch zijn de verhalen in zijn boek over de moordaanslag op hem direct na het eenheidsfeest; de ondergang van Kohl in het Parteispendenskandal en hoe Merkel hem een tweede loopbaan gunt. Die maakt hem nog meer een Europees staatsman. Onthullend vertelt hij over de Eurocrisis, de Griekse troebelen en over de worsteling met zijn eigen partij, met Merkel, de liberalen en de sociaaldemocraten en zijn zwak voor de Grünen.Otto Fricke zag het van dichtbij gebeuren. Zijn perspectief als FDP'er en gedreven parlementariër is dan ook extra interessant. Hij merkte Schaübles hardheid, ook tegen zichzelf trouwens, maar ook de humorvolle warmte én zijn onmiskenbare zwak voor vrouwen als Ursula von der Leyen: pittig, intelligent en ambitieus.De passie voor Europa deelde Fricke met de CDU-staatsman. En die voor de finesses van het politieke vak. Vol vuur vertelt hij over hun permanente worsteling met begrotingen en belastingen en hoe spannend en allerminst saai-technisch dat was. Ook zag hij van dichtbij Schaübles complexe relaties met zowel de patriarch Kohl als de modererende Merkel met haar Schritt für Schritt. Vaak hadden ze pittige meningsverschillen, geen 'strijd', wel 'dispuut' op een hoog intellectueel, ideologisch en politiek niveau.Fricke vertelt ook over Schäubles wijze, kort en scherp geformuleerde inzichten. Over geld, macht, democratie, leiderschap. Over waarom de DDR wel ten onder moést gaan. Zijn rolstoel. Fouten en ongewisheden bij de Euro. Zijn geloof én geestelijke Liberalität als conservatief uit het ruimdenkende Baden.Natuurlijk komen Schaübles liefdes aan de orde: Frankrijk en klassieke muziek. Fricke kreeg kippenvel toen president Emmanuel Macron in Berlijn in zeer goed Duits de laatste eer bracht aan Frankrijks vriend. En we eindigen met Richard Wagners Der Engel.***Verder lezenWolfgang Schäuble - Erinnerungen***Verder kijkenWolfgang Schäuble ist tot: Wie er zur Politik-Legende wurde (ZDF)Wolfgang Schäuble - Lebenslänglich Politik (SWR)Macron ehrt Schäuble im Bundestag mit auf Deutsch gehaltener Rede (AFP)***Verder luisteren135 - 30 jaar Duitse eenheid: Carlo Trojan, de Nederlander die meeonderhandelde84 - Hoe Kohl met Gorbatsjov de Duitse eenwording regelde72 - 'Wir sind ein Volk!', December 1989: Helmut Kohl spreekt in Dresden + Geheim gifwapen Sovjet Unie61 - PG Kroeger over de val van de Berlijnse Muur53 - 1989 - PG en de viering van 40 jaar Deutsche Demokratische Republik46 - De zomer van 1989276 - 30 jaar politiek, 16 jaar bondskanselier en de hond van Poetin: Angela Merkel blikt terug218 - Angela Merkel, een bijzondere bondskanselier - gesprek met biograaf Ralph Bollmann42 - Merkels vertrouweling Elmar Brok: 40 jaar Europese geschiedenis331 – De Groenen 40 jaar in de Bondsdag: van ‘narrenschip' naar solide regeringspartij321 - Umwertung aller Werte - Parijs en Berlijn van elkaar vervreemd op hun eigen feest302 - De Frans-Duitse motor hapert. Gesprek met Bondsdaglid Otto Fricke290 - Bondskanselier Olaf Scholz en de razendsnelle ontwikkeling van de EU02 - Jeroen Dijsselbloem en Coen Teulings over de Eurocrisis***Tijdlijn00:00:00 – Deel 100:37:58 – deel 201:03:33 – Deel 301:51:00 – Einde Zie het privacybeleid op https://art19.com/privacy en de privacyverklaring van Californië op https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

« La vie insulaire, ça vous aspire et ça vous inspire... »Originaire de Montreuil, Claude est né en 1932 et a grandi en région parisienne. Il embrasse une carrière militaire comme fusilier marin. De retour de guerre d'Indochine, il est affecté au Levant en 1955.Il y fait la connaissance d'Edith Hery, propriétaire du restaurant La Source, une enfant de l'île qui devient sa femme et avec qui il a 2 garçons. Il exerce comme maçon sur l'île au côté de son beau-père. Il quitte l'île dans les années 70 après s'être séparé de sa femme et revient s'y installer dans les années 90. Il reprend des travaux de maçonnerie à son compte et travaille un temps au ramassage des déchets puis devient gardien du Fort Napoléon. Avec Claude, on a parlé de base vie militaire, de missiles, de piégeur d'oiseaux, des débuts du naturisme, de simplicité, de coup de foudre, de mariage, de divorce, de chats et de chiens…Claude nous a quittés récemment. Pensée pour sa famille, pour les levantins, et toutes les personnes qui ont eu la chance de croiser son chemin. Retrouvez l'article complet de l'épisode ici: https://fragileporquerolles.com/levant-claude-poirier/ Me suivre sur instagram : https://www.instagram.com/fragile_porquerolles/ Me soutenir sur Tipeee : https://fr.tipeee.com/fragile-porquerolles-1 Vous pouvez me laisser des étoiles et un avis sur Apple Podcasts et Spotify, ça aide ! Si vous souhaitez m'envoyer un mail: fragileporquerolles@gmail.com

Former SF Giants GM, Brian Sabean stops by the show to discuss the great memoires he had with the Giants along with going into the Bay Area Sports Hall of Fame.See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Former SF Giants GM, Brian Sabean stops by the show to discuss the great memoires he had with the Giants along with going into the Bay Area Sports Hall of Fame.See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

« Cette paix, elle vous enveloppe complètement. A Port-Cros, vous sentez que vous faites partie de la nature. Par contre ça se mérite. Si vous n'êtes pas bien avec vous-même, ce n'est pas à Port-Cros qu'il faut venir. »Jean-Claude est un enfant de l'île. Ses parents se sont rencontrés en 1928. Son père Marius travaille comme marin sur le paquebot le Lutetia qui assurait les liaisons entre la France et l'Amérique du Sud. En vacances, ils retrouvent son frère Joseph qui travaille à Port-Man comme maçon. Il est embauché au Manoir par Marceline Henry où il rencontre Georgette, sa future femme, qui travaille aussi pour le compte de la famille Henry. Mme Henry favorise leur mariage en leur garantissant à tous les deux une place au Manoir. Marius donne sa démission à la marine et c'est ainsi qu'ils s'installent à Port-Cros.Jean-Claude est le 2ème d'une fratrie de 3 enfants. Il a consacré sa vie à son métier et sa passion, la pêche. Avec Jean-Claude, on a parlé d'école, de pêche, d'éloignement, d'amour et d'eau fraîche.L'article complet et toutes les notes et références citées dans l'épisode sont à retrouver sur fragileporquerolles.comPour m'aider à financer les frais de production du podcast et vous proposer plus sereinement de nouvelles rencontres insulaires, vous pouvez soutenir le podcast ici: https://fr.tipeee.com/fragile-porquerolles-1/Merci beaucoup à tout ceux qui ont déjà donné sur la page Tipeee de FRAGÎLE et un grand merci d'avance à ceux qui les rejoindront !

Brigitte est originaire des Hauts-de-France où elle a grandi dans un milieu bourgeois, et tenu une épicerie fine pendant une dizaine d'années. En 1974, alors qu'elle est âgée d'une vingtaine d'années, elle découvre par hasard l'île du Levant où un ami l'a invitée à passer quelques jours. Charmée par la beauté et la sauvagerie de l'île, elle décide de s'y installer en 1976. Elle n'en est plus jamais repartie depuis. Aujourd'hui, cela fait presque 50 ans qu'elle vit sur l'île après avoir occupé différentes fonctions. A écouter Brigitte, sa légèreté et son optimisme, tout semble s'être passé comme cela devait se passer. Elle a travaillé au bureau de tabac puis à la poste pendant 12 ans, a exercé parallèlement les fonctions d'adjointe spéciale, géré des maisons d'hôtes et un hôtel. Désormais à la retraite, Brigitte s'occupe encore de quelques locations, de ses poules et de ses oies. Avec Brigitte on a parlé de mousseline et de soie, de la poste, et des fonctions en tant qu'adjointe spéciale, de mariage sous-marin, de poules soie, de pittosporum et de mimosas.Le jour de l'enregistrement, ses hôtes Michel et Odile, nous ont gentiment accueillies sur leur terrasse. Amoureux du Levant, ils forment le groupe « Petitdej ». La chanson que vous entendez à la fin de l'épisode est une chanson de leur composition qui s'intitule "Île sous le vent". L'article complet et toutes les notes et références citées dans l'épisode sont à retrouver sur https://fragileporquerolles.com/levant-brigitte-robbe/Pour m'aider à financer les frais de production du podcast et vous proposer plus sereinement de nouvelles rencontres insulaires, vous pouvez soutenir le podcast ici: https://fr.tipeee.com/fragile-porquerolles-1/Merci beaucoup à tout ceux qui ont déjà donné sur la page Tipeee de FRAGÎLE et un grand merci d'avance à ceux qui les rejoindront !

« Pour moi Pierre (Buffet), c'est la pierre angulaire, la clé de voûte de l'île, il fallait vraiment recueillir sa mémoire. Il est au croisement de toutes les routes, de toutes les voix, de toutes les familles de Port-Cros  et en plus il a une vision prospective. » Claire Paulhan est éditrice, spécialisée dans la littérature autobiographique et l'histoire littéraire. Elle a publié notamment en 2014 L'esprit de l'île, les mémoires de Pierre Buffet, grande personnalité de Port-Cros.Son attachement, sinon son intérêt et son engagement pour Port-Cros sont le fruit d'un héritage transmis par ses grands-parents et son père dont elle porte le nom. En effet Claire est la petite fille de Jean Paulhan, écrivain, critique littéraire et éditeur français qui fut rédacteur en chef puis directeur de la NRF, la Nouvelle Revue française de 1920 à 1968.Tout commence en 1925, quand son grand-père, Jean Paulhan, se rend à Port-Cros pour y trouver un peu de repos. Il vient d'être nommé à la tête de la NRF et séjourne à l'Hostellerie provençale tenue par les Henry. Marcel et Marceline Henry sont des figures tutélaires de l'île, arrivés en 1919 à Port-Cros qui ont marqué l'histoire de cette île, laquelle est racontée dans les mémoires de Pierre Buffet.Il se trouve que Marceline Henry, en plus de son intérêt pour la littérature et la poésie, est abonnée à la NRF. Son grand-père se lie d'amitié avec elle, et dès 1927, grâce à Marcel Henry, les éditions Gallimard auxquelles la NRF appartenait, louent le fort de la vigie (le plus éloigné du port), ce qui permet à Jean Paulhan et sa femme d'y séjourner. Le fort devient alors le lieu où se rassemble toute la communauté littéraire de la NRF, au rang desquels Marcel Arland, Henri Michaux, Paul Valery, Supervielle et beaucoup d'autres et cela de 1927 à la veille de la guerre en 1939. Avec Claire, nous avons parlé de son grand père Jean Paulhan, de Pierre Buffet, de littérature et du pouvoir des mots, de nature et de culture, de son travail d'éditrice et de son lien à Port-Cros.

Episode 426 avec Xavier et David.La revue de presse :• A comme AMD (00:03:51) : Le MI300A d'AMD : APU le plus puissant? AMD sort sont nouveau APU Instinct MI300A, qui prétend rivaliser avec les meilleurs solutions NVIDIA. (Sources : techradar.com et forbes.com) • I comme Impression 3D (00:09:04) : Des photos en 3D grâce à l'impression 3D ? C'est possible ! Un maker imprime en 3D un accessoire qui permet de réaliser un stéréogramme à partir de photos macro. (Sources : 3dnatives.com, printables.com et youtube.com) • M comme Mistral (00:16:19) : Un modèle IA rivalisant avec ChatGPT 3.5 donné au publique. Mistral IA a distribué discrètement son modèle LLM rivalisant avec GPT 3.5. (Sources : gizmodo.com, mistral.ai et ycombinator.com) • R comme Réseau social (00:26:08) : Threads arrive en Europe. Le réseau social Threads arrive en Europe ce Jeudi. (Sources : bfmtv.com, lepoint.fr et tomsguide.fr) • T comme Téléscope (00:36:04) : Un téléscope intelligent. L'incroyable téléscope Seestar S50. (Sources : fstoppers.com et seestar.com) • T comme Turbo-Pascal (00:42:22) : Un language de programmation fête ses 40 ans. Le Turbo-Pascal a 40 ans. (Sources : techspot.com, metatrone.fr et developpez.net) Dossier : Stockage: du byte à l'exabyte (00:51:09)• Historique, évolution des moyens de stockage (Sources : nectardunet.com et utmel.com)• Cartes perforées / disquettes (Sources : wikipedia.org, wikipedia.org et zdnet.fr)• Disques durs / Disques optiques (Sources : wikipedia.org et wikipedia.org)• Memoires flash / SSD (Sources : wikipedia.org et wikipedia.org)• Longévité du stockage (Source : arcserve.com)• Le stockage sur verre de microsoft (Source : usglassmag.com) Retrouvez toutes nos informations, liens, versions du podcast via notre site : LesTechnos.be

Girkin's Memoires. Part 1 was published just before this, and is about Arestovich, don't miss!Support this show http://supporter.acast.com/theeasternborder. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

« Au Levant, on vit en dehors de la réalité de la vie. Pour aimer le Levant il faut partir un peu. » Sonia est originaire de Strasbourg. A la fin des années 40, début des années 50, ses parents, à la recherche d'un pied à terre dans le sud, arpentent la côte d'azur, Menton, St Tropez, Juan les Pins… pour s'ancrer finalement sur l'île du Levant. Sonia découvre l'île à l'âge de 6 ans en 1953, qui devient le lieu de ses vacances estivales avec ses frère et sœur, cousins, cousines. Un endroit où toute la famille se retrouve. Sonia vit désormais sur l'île à l'année depuis 1998, ce qui représente, si on calcule bien, près de 70 ans de relation plus ou moins constante avec Le Levant. Avec Sonia on a parlé de mer, de baignade, de convivialité, de rapport au corps, de vulnérabilité, de vieillesse, et de transmission. L'article complet et toutes les notes et références citées dans l'épisode sont à retrouver sur https://fragileporquerolles.com/levant-sonia/

« Ici le corps devient harmonieux parce qu'il n'est pas habillé. On ne se regarde plus, on ne voit plus nos défauts. On a la totalité du corps donc plus rien à découvrir, ça change le regard. »Originaire de Paris, Catherine découvre le Levant toute jeune en vacances à l'âge de 8 ans avec ses parents au début des années 60. En dehors de quelques interruptions dans son adolescence puis à l'arrivée rapprochée de ses 6 enfants, l'île a toujours fait partie de sa vie, comme le lieu de ses vacances, d'un ressourcement et d'un engagement qu'elle a su transmettre à ses enfants. Elle vit désormais à Rouen, avec un pied dans le var également où ils ont, avec son mari, une maison depuis 12 ans, et ont fait l'acquisition il y a 4 ans d'un terrain au Levant non constructible, où ils vivent « à la levantine ». Avec Catherine, on a parlé de corps harmonieux, de changement de regard, de réservoir d'énergie, de transmission et de résilience.L'article complet et toutes les notes et références citées dans l'épisode sont à retrouver sur https://fragileporquerolles.com/catherine-masselin/

Robert est né en 1939. Bien qu'originaire de Marseille où il passe sa première année, il découvre l'île très jeune à l'âge de 6 ans et va y passer la plus grande partie de sa vie.  La famille de Robert est installée sur l'île du Levant depuis 4 générations. Ses parents, sa femme, Marie-Jacqueline, et lui-même, ses enfants et ses petits-enfants. Sa famille y a vécu et travaillé en tant que commerçants pour des services aussi variés qu'essentiels. Son père, sous l'impulsion de sa sœur, devient transporteur terrestre de passagers et de marchandises sur l'île à partir de 1946. Puis   avec sa famille, ils prennent la tête de différents commerces, les épiceries du village et du port et la boulangerie notamment. Avec Robert, on a parlé de simplicité, de rusticité, de dévouement, d'institut catholique, de famille, de la zone militaire, de groupe électrogène et de chambre froide, de camping, de naturisme, de Marceline Henry à Port-Cros et de liberté. 

Dominique Deruddere (1957) was één van de eerste Vlamingen die films ging maken in Hollywood. Hij debuteerde met de film Crazy Love, gebaseerd op het werk van Charles Bukowski. Daarna maakte hij ondermeer de films Wait Until Spring Bandini, Suite 16 en Hombres Complicados. Voor zijn film Iedereen beroemd werd hij genomineerd voor een oscar als beste buitenlandse film. Hij maakte ook een documentaire over goede vriend Arno. Zijn recentste film The Chapel gaat over de Koningin Elisabethwedstrijd en was ondermeer te zien op het filmfestival van Shanghai. Hij schreef recent ook een boek: Met de helm geboren. Memoires van een filmmaker. Het was een avontuur om hem vast te krijgen. Hij zat eerst in Los Angeles, moest naar Shanghai maar uiteindelijk lukte het toch, gewoon op zijn appartement vlakbij het casino van Oostende. Hij vertelde al meteen dat hij zijn drie boeken niet bij zich had; ze lagen alle drie in L.A. Hij vertelt ondermeer over zijn ontmoeting met Charles Bukowski, over het hoogtepunt van zijn carrière tot nu toe, en over de films die hij heel graag nog wil maken. En hij komt met een verhaal over het appartement van zijn buurman in Brussel: Arno. Alle boeken en auteurs uit deze aflevering vind je⁠⁠ ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠in de shownotes op wimoosterlinck.be⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ Wil je de nieuwsbrief in je mailbox? ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠wimoosterlinck.substack.com⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ Wil je de podcast steunen? Bestel je boeken dan steeds via ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠de ⁠⁠link op wimoosterlinck.be⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠!⁠⁠ Merci. De drie boeken van Dominique Deruddere zijn:  1. Thomas B. Costain: For My Great Folly 2. Charles Bukowski: Ham on Rye 3. John Fante: Ask the Dust Luister ook naar de drie boeken van: ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Imke Courtois⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠, ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Roos Van Acker⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠, ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Ish Ait Hamou⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠, ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Wim Opbrouck⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠, ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Evi Hanssen⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠, ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Stijn Meuris⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠, ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Michèle Cuvelier⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠, ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Lara Chedraoui⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠, ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Johan Braeckman⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠, ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Sophie Dutordoir⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠, ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Freek de Jonge⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ en ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠vele anderen⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠.

Jean-Claude Silbermann est né en 1935 à Boulogne-Billancourt dans une famille bourgeoise. En 1954 il se déclare poète et décide de ne pas suivre la voie toute tracée derrière son père à la tête de son entreprise. Il prend ses distances avec sa famille. En lisant Alcools et Calligramme d'Apollinaire, il a une révélation. Il clame à l'adresse d'André Breton « Je suis surréaliste » lequel l'invite à rejoindre le mouvement entre 57 et jusqu'à sa dissolution en 69. Dès lors Breton, Antonin Artaud, Benjamin Péret deviennent ses amis et lectures.  En 1959, il publie un premier recueil de poèmes chez Jean Jacques Pauvert. Après avoir été réformé de l'armée, il n'arrive plus à écrire et en 1962, sous l'impulsion de son ami, le peintre Pierre Jaouen, il commence à dessiner et peindre. Il reprend l'écriture et la poésie, écrit des chansons. Ses œuvres sont exposées au Mamco à Genève, à Prague, Stockholm, Brest, au centre Pompidou à Paris. On le qualifie de dernier surréaliste, mais il refuse d'être traité comme une archive. Il a refusé qu'un écriteau soit apposé au fronton de sa maison dans le cadre des carnets de promeneurs inspirés sur les sentiers de Port Cros. Sa mère découvre pour la première fois Port-Cros à l'âge de 18 ans en 1929, elle en est éblouie. Jean-Claude Silbermann y met les pieds pour la première fois en 1938 à l'âge de 3 ans mais c'est finalement en 1950 que démarrent vraiment ses souvenirs d'enfance sur l'île. Il y passe toutes ses vacances après la guerre.Avec Jean-Claude, nous avons parlé de son parcours personnel et artistique, des rencontres qui l'ont jalonné, de la Bretagne, de son lien à Port-Cros, d'art et de poésie et de la place du surréalisme dans notre société…Un témoignage puissant, poétique et savoureux, truffé d'anecdotes, qui vous permettra d'approcher l'univers surréaliste de Jean-Claude Silbermann que je remercie pour sa spontanéité et sa finesse, son regard à la fois sensible et sans concession sur Port Cros, la vie et le monde.Pour aller plus loin dans votre découverte du travail de Jean Claude Silbermann, je vous recommande le film « Mais qui a salé la salade de céleri ? » accompagné de son livret très complet et joliment illustré paru chez Sevendoc.Vous y trouverez notamment l'analyse faite par Christian Bernard alors directeur de musée et Fondateur du Mamco de Genève de son œuvre et notamment de son incroyable installation « Babyl Babylon » au MAMCO. Il dit : « on ne sait pas par où entrer dans cette œuvre. Tout y flotte. Nous n'y accédons que par surprise, à l'improviste. Il parle du ballet des figures de Silbermann, de figures de carnaval, d'un spectacle sans commencement ni fin, tres ouvert, d'un emboitement de choses improbables. C'est comme si le monde était un palindrome dont on ne pouvait pas faire le tour. L'article complet et toutes les notes et références citées dans l'épisode sont à retrouver sur https://fragileporquerolles.com/jcsilbermann_port_cros/

Long time listeners know that I am a connoisseur of the sequential arts.    It is truly the theater of the mind because I can co-create with the artist to experience an environment or an adventure.   I bring this up because sometimes healing can come from unexpected places. Like a graphic novel or a comic book.    Three of the books talk about the experience of having a perpetual negative voice interfering with the quality of their lives.    Three of the books speak to what they have done to connect with their better selves.    In this episode a look at five graphic novels memoires about anxiety. If you need support contact the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 988 or 1-800-273-8255, the Trevor Project at 1-866-488-7386 or text “START” to 741-741. Resources Mentioned:    Marie and the Worrywart by Jen Woodall. The cover gives a good example of going from being normal to transition into symptom flare up. It is published by Silver Sprocket Press.   MonsterMind: Dealing with Anxiety and Self-Doubt by Alfonso Casas does not have just one voice but a committee such as Mr. Past Traumas, Mr. Fear, Mr. Social Anxiety, Mr. Impostor Syndrome, Mr. Sadness, Mr. Doubt and there may be more hiding in the rafters.   The Worrier's Guide to Life by Gemma Correll, world champion over-thinker. What if everything you saw negatively came into being. As if it was an overly to every single thing you laid eyes on.   For example, you are looking into an ice cream case and see rocky road kill or cookies & clams.   The Last Gay Man on Earth is a photo memoir that has Ype Driessen. All I know is that there is a sentient robot vacuum cleaner involved. The publisher is Street Noise Books.    Also on the Andrews McMeel website is a book by Debbie Tung, Everything is Ok. But it isn't because we are talking about anxiety and depression. This is a graphic memoir about how she navigates the highs and lows of her experiences.   Improve: How I Discovered Improv and Conquered Social Anxiety by Alex Graudins.  What do you do when you have a bad case of social anxiety?  Alex's decision is to sign up for an improv comedy class. The publisher is First Second but the link is to the Macmillan website book listing page.   Disclaimer:  Links to other sites are provided for information purposes only and do not constitute endorsements.  Always seek the advice of a qualified health provider with questions you may have regarding a medical or mental health disorder. This blog and podcast is intended for informational and educational purposes only. Nothing in this program is intended to be a substitute for professional psychological, psychiatric or medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment.  

« Je pense que ce qui a séduit mes parents ici, c'est la liberté totale, une rusticité tout à fait originale, pas d'électricité, pas de voiture, la marche, la nage, la plongée, la pêche…Un environnement bienveillant et calme. »Frédéric est né à Forcalquier en 1950. Il a grandi au Maroc entre Tanger et Casablanca où son père exerçait comme professeur de lettres. Il rentre avec sa famille tous les ans en France pour les vacances qu'il partage entre le Lot et l'île du Levant où il passe plus d'1 mois et demi. Ses parents ont découvert l'île en 1949 pendant leur voyage de noces et en sont tombés amoureux au point d'y acheter une petite maison en 1958. De retour en France en 1968 après son bac, sa famille s'installe au port d'Hyères. Poussé par son père, il se lance dans des études de marine marchande à Marseille puis au Havre. Il fait carrière à la SNCM pendant 25 ans. En 2007, au décès de sa mère, Frédéric s'installe avec sa femme au Levant. Très vite il s'engage dans la vie levantine, comme conseiller au syndic entre 2007 et 2016, puis à partir de 2018 comme adjoint spécial. Avec Frédéric, on a parlé du Maroc, de l'Histoire du Levant, de la zone militaire, des enjeux à venir, de naturisme, de transmission et de cétacés. L'article complet et toutes les notes et références citées dans l'épisode sont à retrouver sur https://fragileporquerolles.com/frederic-capoulade/

Je suis Anne Margalin, Créatrice de l'univers de Sweet Papi Podcast, Fondatrice d'un centre de ressources positives pour les aidants  où nous prenons soin de nous et de nos parents en perte d'autonomie, avec bienveillance et sourire 

« Cette île a quelque chose de très spirituel. Il y a un sens à la vie pour moi ici. La nature est belle, généreuse, rude parfois. C'est un endroit où l'on envie de prier, pour certains de méditer… Pour moi, c'est une preuve de l'existence de Dieu. » Michel est propriétaire du Bazar de l'île. Il a découvert le Levant en 1980, amené ici par celui qui deviendra son conjoint, Berty, qui l'a précédé en tant que propriétaire du Bazar. A l'époque, il est encore étudiant et réside chez ses parents à Paris. A partir de cette période, Le Levant devient le lieu de ses vacances. En 1995, Berty achète une maison sur l'île, puis Le Bazar en 1997. Il poursuit sa vie professionnelle à Paris d'abord en tant qu'artisan encadreur puis comme cadre commercial jusqu'en 2005, année où il décide de rejoindre son mari au Levant et de prendre sa suite au Bazar.Avec Michel on a parlé de religion, d'éducation par l'exemple, de la question de l'eau au Levant, d'homosexualité, de naturisme, d'électricité, de tolérance et de voyages.L'article complet et toutes les notes et références citées dans l'épisode sont à retrouver sur https://fragileporquerolles.com/michel-guinard/

« Ça a été une époque merveilleuse. J'ai travaillé comme un dingue mais ça s'est fait tout seul. Je n'entendais parler que d'une chose : les moteurs. A 18 ans c'est moi qui faisais la totalité des réparations et des entretiens la nuit. C'était une grande fierté. 17 années de bonheur »Alain Pegliasco est un enfant du pays. Il est né sur l'île du Levant en 1943. L'histoire de sa famille avec cette île commence avec son grand-père Leopold Pegliasco, italien, venu s'y établir comme pêcheur dans les années 20. A la demande des services de l'État, il assure la première liaison régulière entre l'île et le continent, 2 fois par semaine, pour le courrier et l'approvisionnement du phare en pétrole. En 1937, le premier service pour passagers voit le jour. Son père Louis, surnommé « Loulou le corsaire » prend la suite de son grand-père et assure un service été comme hiver. Il rejoint cette lignée de marins à l'âge de 14 ans, à la fin des années 50, comme mousse aux côtés de son père.Avec Alain, on a parlé d'enfance insulaire, des îles du Levant et de Port-Cros, de traversées, de travaux maritimes, de sauvetage et de Port Avis.L'article complet et toutes les notes et références citées dans l'épisode sont à retrouver sur https://fragileporquerolles.com/port-cros-apegliasco/

« Il y a un charme profond sur cette île et une sérénité du lieu. Ce qui l'emporte c'est la nature et ce qu'elle dégage, un magnétisme, une force qui est très prégnante. »Laurette est née en Tunisie au début des années 50 où elle est restée jusqu'à ses 8 ans avant de s'installer avec ses parents et ses 2 frères à Hyères où elle a fait toute votre scolarité. A 17 ans elle rencontre le futur père de son fils, levantin, qui lui fait découvrir l'île du Levant. Elle s'y rend pour la première fois en 1972 pour finalement ne plus jamais en repartir. Cela fait 50 ans que Laurette y réside une bonne partie de l'année. Après plus de 30 ans à la tête de la Pomme d'Adam, bar-restaurant historique de l'île, d'engagement dans la vie associative et de création artistique -Laurette a notamment réalisé cette sculpture tournée vers le large et qui accueille les visiteurs, intitulée La Maternité - elle continue de s'investir pour son île et de créer la vie douce et foisonnante qui lui ressemble.Avec Laurette on a parlé de la Pomme d'Adam, de peinture et de sculpture, de maternité, de naturisme, de ciel, de roche et de mer, d'électricité et de magnétisme.L'article complet et toutes les notes et références citées dans l'épisode sont à retrouver sur https://fragileporquerolles.com/laurette-alario/

« Ce que je ressens ici c'est ce rapport à la poésie, à la douceur. C'est facile ici. Je pense que c'est quelque chose qui manque effroyablement dans notre monde. »Pascale est une enfant de l'île. D'origine allemande, ses grands-parents, adeptes du naturisme, achètent un terrain sur l'île du Levant dans les années 50. Sa mère et son père, hollandais, se rencontrent ici alors qu'ils sont en vacances et décident de s'y installer. Pascale grandit sur l'île où elle vit aujourd'hui à l'année. Elle y tient depuis 2016 une boutique de vêtements et de souvenirs.Avec Pascale on a parlé de lumière, de freie körper kultur, de nature, de poésie et de douceur.L'article complet et toutes les notes et références citées dans l'épisode sont à retrouver sur https://fragileporquerolles.com/pascale-karels/

Memoires of a Haleakala Park Ranger. The host for this show is Rita Forsythe. The guest is Russell Cahill. Russ Cahill talks about his memoire as park ranger in Haleakala National Park and beyond, and his historical fictions based in Hawaii. The ThinkTech YouTube Playlist for this show is https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLQpkwcNJny6k3GeYp6ipULIhR-EJtgYJZ Please visit our ThinkTech website at https://thinktechhawaii.com and see our Think Tech Advisories at https://thinktechadvisories.blogspot.com.

Van de mierzoete Netflix-serie tot het bizarre boek Spare: wat bezielt prins Harry en zijn Meghan om zoveel te delen met de wereld? Volgens correspondent Patrick IJzendoorn heeft zijn populariteit in het Verenigd Koninkrijk nu wel een dieptepunt bereikt. Host Esma Linnemann spreekt ook met adjunct-hoofdredacteur Chris Buur en journalist Haroon Ali over hoe we ons moeten verhouden tot het rebellerende stel. Geven we hen het voordeel van de twijfel of zetten we onze vraagtekens bij deze openbare therapie? Host: Esma Linneman Redactie en montage: Sofia Robben Eindredactie: Corinne van Duin, Tiemen Hageman en Emilie van Kinschot Artwork: Sophia Twigt Onze journalistiek steunen? Dat kan het beste met een (digitaal) abonnement op de Volkskrant, daarvoor ga je naar  www.volkskrant.nl/podcastactie  See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Sylvette et Michelle sont sœurs. Leur famille vit sur l'île du Levant depuis 3 générations.Leurs grands-parents paternels se sont rencontrés au Levant dans les années 1920. Louis, leur grand-père est pêcheur, il navigue avec les ravitailleurs des phares et balises et rencontre Adrienne leur grand-mère, alors gouvernante dans une famille à Port-Cros.De leur union naissent 3 enfants, 2 filles et un garçon, leur père Jacques qui voit le jour en 1924 et rencontrera leur mère Denise après la guerre en 46 quand elle prendra ses fonctions en tant qu'institutrice sur l'île.Leur grand-frère Jean-Louis nait en 1948 et quelques mois plus tard leur mère part enseigner à Port-Cros où elle exercera jusqu'en 1956. Sylvette et Michèle voient le jour respectivement en 52 et 53, avec, explique Sylvette, « 1 pied sur les 2 îles », leur père continuant de résider au Levant où il construit l'Hôtel restaurant « la Reserve ».Aujourd'hui, Le Levant est devenu pour l'une et l'autre leur résidence secondaire puisque Sylvette vit à Hyeres et Michèle, sur une autre île, lointaine celle-ci, St Barthélemy.Avec Sylvette et Michèle, on a parlé d'identité et de souvenirs insulaires, d'esprit naturiste, de soleil, de tolérance et de liberté.Un épisode pour les amoureux des 3 îles...L'article complet et toutes les notes et références citées dans l'épisode sont à retrouver sur https://fragileporquerolles.com/sylvette-michele-viale/ Dans cet épisode, Sylvette et Michèle font référence à 3 personnalités de Port-Cros et du Levant déjà interviewées dans le podcast dont je vous mets les liens ici si vous souhaitez poursuivre le récit de ces îles: Pierre Buffet, propriétaire du Manoir de Port-Cros: https://fragileporquerolles.com/pierre-buffet-port-cros/ Janine Seemuller, institutrice sur les îles du Levant et de Port-Cros: https://fragileporquerolles.com/janine-port-cros/Alain Pegliasco, marin et enfant du Levant: https://fragileporquerolles.com/port-cros-apegliasco/

193# Vampires | Fangs for the memoires A Vampire is a creature from folklore that subsists by feeding on the vital essence (generally in the form of blood) of the living. In European folklore, vampires are undead creatures that often visited loved ones and caused mischief or deaths in the neighbourhoods Most people associate vampires with Count Dracula, the legendary, blood-sucking subject of Bram Stoker's epic novel, Dracula, which was published in 1897. MERCH STORE Our new merch is available on tee public! stickers, buttons, mugs and masks all with our sweet new design! #MERCH #Sales #NASAScience #PodernFamily #teepublic https://teepublic.com/en-gb/t-shirt/21303964-nasa-beam-me-up… GET YOURS TODAY! CONTACT US!! Get in touch! Have a question for us or a comment or suggestion you can email us Website Neverastraightanswer.co.uk Email Neverstraightanswer@gmail.com NEVERASTRAIGHTANSWER.CO.UK --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/neverastraightanswer/message Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/neverastraightanswer/support

Mix of the Week #445 is "Memoires D'Outre Bong" by Basso Follow and include @growingbinrecords in your track ID requests "Out of a sentimental and pseudo intellectual notion I called this "Memoires D'Outre Bong". (some of you will understand the wordplay... hint: there is a steak called Chateaubriand) My memory is usually not that bad. But somehow the vision into the years from 1994 to 1998 is quite blurry. I think it has to do with the hits from the bong. Here are some bits that I remember well. Most of them are not really official hits, some of them actually give me shivers ... all below 90 bpm! " - Basso Previous mixes from Basso https://dreamchimney.com/motw/dj/Basso Mix of the Week: App/Email https://www.dreamchimney.com/motw/subscribe Dream Chimney Radio: https://www.dreamchimney.com/radio

Episode 229: In our last episode we learned about the life and first two murders of British serial murderer Dennis Andrew Nilsen. He was arrested after police discovered human remains he'd flushed down the toilet at 23 Cranley Gardens in Muswell Hill, a Suburb of North London. In this episode we'll learn about Nilsen's next twelve murders, what happened after his arrest and the aftermath of his crimes. A number of Nilsen's victims remain unidentified to this day. As Dennis Nilsen was a necrophile, some of the information we are about to share are intense and may be very disturbing to some. Listener discretion is strongly advised. Sources: How Serial Killers “Cool Off” Between Murders | Psychology Today Canada Dennis Nilsen's house where he dismembered and cooked victims sold with gruesome warning - Mirror Online Strangled, chopped up and burnt: The Sheffield man slayed by evil serial killer Dennis Nilsen | Doncaster Free Press Sheffield man's brutal murder to feature in new TV drama about serial killer Dennis Nilsen | The Star The Real ‘Des': The Dennis Nilsen Story: what happened to Carl Stotter? | HELLO! - Memoires of a Heroinhead - Dennis Nilsen - Wikipedia Dyno-Rod Local Drains & Plumbing Experts | Fixed-Price | 24/7 Killing For Company: Masters, Brian: Amazon.ca: Kindle Store Dinner, Drinks & Death ; The True Story of Dennis Nilsen by Alan R. Warren - Ebook | Scribd A Plague of Murder by Colin Wilson, Damon Wilson - Ebook | Scribd Watch Memories of a Murderer: The Nilsen Tapes | Netflix Official Site The Real Des: The Dennis Nilsen Story Reddit — Dennis Nilsen Spotify Playlist - Nilsen's Favourite Tunes Support the show: https://www.patreon.com/darkpoutine See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Episode 229: In our last episode we learned about the life and first two murders of British serial murderer Dennis Andrew Nilsen. He was arrested after police discovered human remains he'd flushed down the toilet at 23 Cranley Gardens in Muswell Hill, a Suburb of North London. In this episode we'll learn about Nilsen's next twelve murders, what happened after his arrest and the aftermath of his crimes. A number of Nilsen's victims remain unidentified to this day. As Dennis Nilsen was a necrophile, some of the information we are about to share are intense and may be very disturbing to some. Listener discretion is strongly advised. Sources: How Serial Killers “Cool Off” Between Murders | Psychology Today Canada Dennis Nilsen's house where he dismembered and cooked victims sold with gruesome warning - Mirror Online Strangled, chopped up and burnt: The Sheffield man slayed by evil serial killer Dennis Nilsen | Doncaster Free Press Sheffield man's brutal murder to feature in new TV drama about serial killer Dennis Nilsen | The Star The Real ‘Des': The Dennis Nilsen Story: what happened to Carl Stotter? | HELLO! - Memoires of a Heroinhead - Dennis Nilsen - Wikipedia Dyno-Rod Local Drains & Plumbing Experts | Fixed-Price | 24/7 Killing For Company: Masters, Brian: Amazon.ca: Kindle Store Dinner, Drinks & Death ; The True Story of Dennis Nilsen by Alan R. Warren - Ebook | Scribd A Plague of Murder by Colin Wilson, Damon Wilson - Ebook | Scribd Watch Memories of a Murderer: The Nilsen Tapes | Netflix Official Site The Real Des: The Dennis Nilsen Story Reddit — Dennis Nilsen Spotify Playlist - Nilsen's Favourite Tunes

Leo Cocks shares his beautiful life experiences with Paramahansa Yogananda. He talks about self-transformation and unconditional love in such a heartfelt way that it warrants an entire hour discussion on these important topics. Our friend Deeksha joins us during her lunch break to share her unique reflections. 0:00 Meet Deeksha; 7:56 Summary of Minute; 10:47 Memoires of Leo Cocks; 33:24 Psychiatry vs Guruchiatry; 1:05:22 Pictures from the minute and closing Prayer. References: Leo Cocks Book: I Became My Heart. Brother Ananadamoy's talk: https://yssofindia.org/blog/your-thoughts-can-change-your-life

This woman, Mary Thomas, a courageous 19th-century slave from St. Croix (now part of the U.S. Virgin Islands), rebelled against indignity, along with two other women leaders, Agnes and Mathilda, "the three queens," to spark the largest labour revolt in Danish colonial history, an uprising known as the "Fireburn," in which fifty plantations and most of the town of Frederiksted on St. Croix were burned. This rebellion was brutally suppressed, and the three queens were arrested, tried and convicted. They served their prison terms in Copenhagen, a little over a mile from where the statue stands today.