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In this Podcast Short, John discusses how shifting from extractive to collaborative business models can help farmers reclaim their economic destiny. This episode also explores: Historical farm economics, noting that while it was once common to pay for a farm in under ten years, How "regenerative relationships" and shared risk-taking between vendors and growers are essential to restoring farm profitability. A new performance warranty for BioCoat Gold is introduced as a way to remove financial risk for growers Inviting large-scale operators to engage in broader risk-sharing partnerships that extend beyond single products to entire agricultural systems. Additional Resources To learn more about AEA's new BioCoat Gold warrant, please visit: https://advancingecoag.com/land/warranty-biocoat-gold/ About John Kempf John Kempf is the founder of Advancing Eco Agriculture (AEA). A top expert in biological and regenerative farming, John founded AEA in 2006 to help fellow farmers by providing the education, tools, and strategies that will have a global effect on the food supply and those who grow it. Through intense study and the knowledge gleaned from many industry leaders, John is building a comprehensive systems-based approach to plant nutrition – a system solidly based on the sciences of plant physiology, mineral nutrition, and soil microbiology. Support For This Show & Helping You Grow Since 2006, AEA has been on a mission to help growers become more resilient, efficient, and profitable with regenerative agriculture. AEA works directly with growers to apply its unique line of liquid mineral crop nutrition products and biological inoculants. Informed by cutting-edge plant and soil data-gathering techniques, AEA's science-based programs empower farm operations to meet the crop quality markers that matter the most. AEA has created real and lasting change on millions of acres with its products and data-driven services by working hand-in-hand with growers to produce healthier soil, stronger crops, and higher profits. Beyond working on the ground with growers, AEA leads in regenerative agriculture media and education, producing and distributing the popular and highly-regarded Regenerative Agriculture Podcast, inspiring webinars, and other educational content that serve as go-to resources for growers worldwide.
In this episode, I tackled the question submitted by Emily Kate: What sacrifices and shortcuts did you take in your podcasting journey, and did they work out well? A fantastic lineup of podcasters shared their wisdom, experiences, and favorite tools. Here's an organized list of all the contributors with their URLs, plus every resource/tool we mentioned to help you on your own podcasting path.Contributors & Their URLsEmily Kate :emilykatecreative.comKim Newlove ("The Pharmacist's Voice" & "Perrysburg Podcast")thepharmacistsvoice.comperrysburgpodcast.comRalph ("Ask Ralph Media Network")askralph.comIncludes shows: Financially Confident Christian, Grit and Growth Business, Truth Unveiled with Ralph, Content Creators AccountantTodd the Gator ("Guardian Down Roundtable")guardiandowncast.comKrista Lawley & Mark ("Practical Prepping Podcast")practicalprepping.infoResources & URLs MentionedOtter.ai – Transcription toolBitly – Link shortener/tracker/QR Code CreatorSwitchy – Link shortener/tracker/QR code creator (one time payment)Steve Stewart's Podcast Editor Finder FormPodcast Editors AcademyAuphonic – Audio processing & AI audio editingAudacity – Audio editing softwareOBS (Open Broadcaster Software)Descript – Audio editing & AI toolResound.fm – De-um tool & audio editingAppSumo – Deals platform (referenced for AI tools)Castmagic – AI show notes & content creationPodpage – Podcast website builderMusic Radio Creative – Jingles, music, and audio brandingSuno – AI-generated jingles/musicEcamm Live – Live streaming & recording software (Mac only)Alec Johnson / One Take Productions Ecamm Live MasterclassMagi – AI aggregation toolVoice Regen - AI Audio Clean Up ToolThe Audacity to PodcastThe Podcasters RoundtablePodcasters StudioMentioned in this episode:See Your Show On PodpageIf you host a podcast, your website should work as hard as your episodes do. At Podpage, we automatically create a beautiful, professional site for your show — complete with episode pages, transcripts, audio players, SEO optimization, and built-in tools to grow your audience. No design work. No plugins. No ongoing maintenance. In less than a minute, you can see exactly what your podcast would look like on Podpage. Go to podpage.com/preview and generate your free preview site now. (No Credit Card Required) See your show the way it should look.PodpagePodcast Hot Seat - Now Private Podcast AuditsThere are things your podcast is missing that often lead to you losing the audience you are attracting. I help make good podcasts GREAT. End the frustration with your podcast growth. Check out the Podcast Hot Seat Service Today.Podcast HotseatJoin the School of PodcastingMark from Practical Prepping had been podcasting for a while, but after joining the School of Podcasting, his podcast grew at a faster rate. His Facebook group has over 30,000 members! Join the School of Podcasting and get access to: Step-by-step tutorials An amazing podcast community Unlimited One-On-One Coaching Join today worry-free with a 30-day money-back guarantee!School of PodcastingQuestion of the MonthOne of our favorite questions, "What are your top podcasting pet peeves? You know the things that make you press fast forward, delete, or maybe even unfollow... share your frustration with these tactics along with a little bit about your show and your website (so I can add a link in the show notes). You can upload a pre-recorded version or press record on the website. I need your answer by March 27th, 2026Question of the Month
This episode breaks down why hard conversations often go poorly in coaching and how to handle them with clarity, calm, and consistency. Rob and Dustin outline a simple, repeatable framework that works with today's athletes and staff.Key Ideas• The 10–90 Rule: The first 10% of a hard conversation determines 90% of the outcome. How you start matters most.• Why these conversations matter: Most athletes have low reps in real conflict. Avoidance and emotional escalation are common. Coaches who handle conflict well build trust and stability.The Six Steps1. Invite — don't ambush Set a clear time, place, and purpose. Avoid vague “we need to talk” messages.2. Identify the issue Name the problem and stick to it. Don't drift into personal attacks.3. Inform the process Set simple ground rules: listen first, ask clarifying questions, work toward next steps.4. Listen to understand Not to win. Let the other person fully empty the tank.5. Give back Acknowledge the kernel of truth. Take the low seat when appropriate; it strengthens trust.6. Take action Agree on next steps and walk out aligned. Clarity and unity matter.SummaryConsistent structure + emotional regulation = better outcomes. Coaches who embrace hard conversations—not avoid them—lead stronger teams.LinksApple: https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/beyond-coaching-an-impactful-coaching-project-podcast/id1711128150 Spotify: https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/beyond-coaching-an-impactful-coaching-project-podcast/id1711128150 Substack: https://impactfulcoachingproject.substack.com
CRUISE TO MARS | THREE DUCKS ON A JOURNEYMama duck had two daughters, and she loved taking them on trips to faraway places. The two ducklings had few friends, but they often went out and about.They played in the farmyard pretending to be a group, and even on their birthday, they ate the big cake all by themselves.As a gift, Mama decided to take them on a cruise to Mars. She organized the trip on a spaceship for tourists, got tickets for an intergalactic Martian party, and departure as soon as possible — before you could say "quack quack."While all three of them were in the yard ready for the trip, they saw a strange object flying low over the farm. Landing on the ground, a small square figure appeared at a hatch and said:"Excuse me, are you the ones with three tickets to Mars and three for the intergalactic party?"The ducklings looked at each other in amazement. They had never seen a square creature before — square head, square eyes, even the smile seemed square."Yes, that's us!" replied Mama duck."Quack! Quack! Quack!" chimed the ducklings in chorus, hopping with excitement."Please, come aboard," said the Martian with a little squared bow. "The journey to Mars is about to begin."And in one leap they boarded the spaceship, so curious and excited for this new adventure. The strange vehicle took off as fast as a gust of wind.In space, it was rush hour. The spaceship found itself in a queue, and the Martian pilot honked the horn: "Bleep, bleep!"He leaned out the window and grumbled: "It's getting harder and harder to travel! Look at that, there's even a playful little planet spinning around on itself like it's a carousel! Oh, what fun — move over, let me pass, and keep on playing!"Due to the cosmic traffic jam, the spaceship landed on Mars slightly behind schedule."How wonderful!" exclaimed the ducklings when they saw a ship made entirely of glass, ready for the cruise, where they were invited to come aboard.There was a great bustle of small square Martians."Good morning, Mrs. Duck, please make yourself comfortable!" they said with a bow, while the ducklings — quack, quack, quack — chattered and hopped about happily.In the background, square guitars played Interplanetary Rock.The three travelers, with their little faces pressed against the windows, gazed in wonder at the red color of the planet.The ship set off slowly across the sand, but suddenly the engines began to roar and up, toward the top of a mountain, then down over the red rocks — it felt like being on a roller coaster, up and down, up and down. Then it would settle again and slowly cross immense valleys."What a strange sight! What a strange vehicle that travels over rocks and sand!" the tourists commented.The hours passed amid wonders and discoveries. Time flew by.Evening came. On the Martian ship, Mama duck and the ducklings showed up all dressed up, with bows and ribbons, for the intergalactic birthday party.The waiters danced, offered their arms to the tourists, and served to the sound of Rock music. Small Martians approached the ducklings and, showering them with compliments, hopping and dancing, played with them.The party had begun."Everything here is square — the glasses, the bottles!" the ducks whispered to each other.The sweet treats were salty, the salty ones were sweet, the cake was... well, well, what kind of world is this!The balloons with "Happy Birthday" written on them were — guess what — square.The evening was coming to an end and fireworks lit up the sky to celebrate the tourists... and they were square too."How kind and lovely these Martians are!" said Mama duck, and continued: "We made it to Mars, we've seen what there was to see, we've had our fun. Now let's think about going back to Earth."Suddenly, the ship commander's voice announced the imminent arrival of a spaceship for the return trip.The three ducks couldn't wait. They said their goodbyes and, crossing a connecting bridge, stepped directly into the spaceship. And down, toward their planet.Watching the tourists depart through the ship's windows, the Martians in their waiter uniforms launched dozens of colorful balloons into space.In the universe, under a starry sky, satellites wandered around the spaceship. Venus shone in the distance, and the Moon, ever closer, smiled with her full face.Arriving back on Earth, all three stepped down onto the farmyard, happy.Square balloons with "Happy Birthday" written on them floated in the air.What a surprise! This is certainly the work of the Martians.And by telling everyone about their galactic adventure, the two ducklings made lots of friends. Everyone wanted to hear about their trip to Mars.Our planet may be round, may be big, may be small, may be beautiful, and it will always be our home.— Written by Lucia & Marco Ciappelli Each story is currently written and narrated in both Italian and English.The translation from Italian (the original language) to English and the reading of the stories are performed using Generative Artificial Intelligence — which perhaps has a touch of magic... We hope it has done a good job!If you like it, make sure to tell your friends, family, and teachers, and subscribe to this podcast to stay updated. You'll be able to read or listen to new stories as soon as they become available. Visit us On The Official Website https://www.storiesottolestelle.com/ Hosted by Simplecast, an AdsWizz company. See pcm.adswizz.com for information about our collection and use of personal data for advertising.
Giannina the Cat Giannina the cat lived in a house with a garden. The garden wall bordered a park where children gathered to play. The town was small but charming — from the windowsills of the houses, pots of geraniums and petunias tumbled down like colorful cascades. Her owner, Signora Mafalda, often took her around the town center. All the children knew her, and whenever they spotted her, they would run over and shower her with affection. Giannina was quite the little rascal. During the day she loved chasing lizards, hunting insects, butterflies, and anything that moved. To rest, she would stretch out in the sun on the warm stones, then cool off among the blades of grass. In the garden, among the pomegranate tree, the lemon tree, and the olive with its silvery leaves, she and Mafalda spent their afternoons playing together. But one day, Mafalda began to notice something strange. Giannina would leap to catch her prey, but she kept missing and ending up in the rose bushes. "Ow, ow, ow! I've pricked myself and my tail is tangled in the branches!" she meowed. She barely managed to dodge trees she used to climb with ease. She reached her food and water bowls with an uncertain gait. Worried, Mafalda took her to the Veterinarian. After listening to the little cat's strange adventures, the Doctor smiled and delivered his verdict with a wise air: "This little kitty can't see well. She needs glasses." No sooner said than done — in the blink of an eye, the veterinarian searched through a display case full of frames for pets and, finding the perfect one, exclaimed: "Here we are — a pair of glasses fit for an elegant lady!" As soon as they were placed on Giannina's sweet little snout, the cat looked around in wonder. She could see everything so clearly! She rubbed against the Veterinarian's legs and leaped into Mafalda's arms as if to thank her. The Doctor, touched by her sweetness, gave her a special gift: a golden chain with a small pearl at its center that glowed with its own light. Whispering, he told her: "If you close your eyes and touch this pearl with your little nose, you will gain magical powers that only you will have. They will help you help others." Giannina thought that perhaps this Veterinarian was also a Wizard, but she said nothing to Mafalda. It was a secret between her and the strange Doctor. On the way home, people turned to look at her, thinking: that cat seems mysterious — there's something glimmering around her. At home, Giannina's first wish was to climb onto a chair and gaze out the window. The flowers shone in their colors, and even the grass was a brilliant green, as if covered in dew. She smiled, happier than ever. Mafalda, sharing in her joy, decided to take her to the park. They arrived in no time. Squirrels scampered through the trees, birds sang as they flew from branch to branch. Small creatures popped out everywhere, and the children followed them with curiosity — they ran alongside the lizards, leaped with the butterflies dancing in the air, while red ladybugs landed on their skin like good luck charms. After chases, slides, and ring-around-the-rosy, the children sat down on the grass for their snack. From their colorful backpacks came tasty treats. That's when they arrived. "Vriiip! Vriiip! Vriiip!" At full speed, a platoon of ants zoomed in on rumbling mini-motorcycles. They wore shiny little helmets on their heads, round goggles over their eyes, and tiny boots on their feet. They braked sharply in front of the children, raising little clouds of dust. "Make way! We're here too!" shouted the lead ant, lifting her visor. "Can we collect the crumbs?" The children burst out laughing. "Yes, yes! Munch all the crumbs you want!" The ants parked their mini-motorcycles in a neat row, removed their helmets with theatrical gestures, and got to work carrying crumbs twice their size, singing a little marching song. In this joyful atmosphere, Giannina and Mafalda strolled along the pathways. And suddenly, as they passed, the trees bent their branches in a bow and their leaves rustled in greeting. The roses in the flower beds opened their petals and began to sing. The lizards beat their tails on the ground like drums: "Rattatatà! Rattatatà!" And the millipedes started tap dancing to the lively rhythm. "Oh my, what a wonderful commotion!" exclaimed Giannina, who was beginning to feel a mysterious aura around her. She couldn't help but think of the Wizard Veterinarian. What could these magical powers be? And what would happen if she touched the pearl with her little nose? She told Mafalda, who was carrying a book of fairy tales under her arm. They looked at each other and, understanding instantly, seized the moment. Giannina gathered the children in a circle. Some came quickly, others more shy joined in slowly. The ants too, their bellies full, put on their mini helmets again, did one last rumbling lap on their motorcycles, then climbed off and approached the group. It was the right moment. Giannina closed her eyes and touched the magic pearl with her little nose. A golden spark flashed in the air. She took the book from Mafalda's hands, opened it, and chose the tale that seemed to be waiting for her, glowing among the pages. In a gentle voice, she began to read. "Once upon a time, there was a little rabbit who lived in the woods. He kept tripping over tree roots and pebbles. At school, he made mistakes reading letters and numbers, so he didn't want to go anymore. When the teacher saw his drawings, she said: 'Well done!' His mom and dad said the same: 'Well done!' But to him, the colors seemed faded. The truth was, he couldn't see well, but instead of saying so, he would run away and hide in a burrow beneath a talking tree. And the tree, with the rustle of its leaves, whispered a secret: talk to your parents. So he did, and they helped him get glasses. And the world became beautiful again." Giannina closed the book. She understood: with the magic pearl, she could read the hearts of children, discovering emotions and secrets waiting to be brought to light. "You know," she said to her little listeners, "not long ago, I couldn't see well either. But I put on these glasses and poof! The world became clearer and more beautiful." A boy approached her, almost embarrassed, and whispered in her ear: "Maybe I need them too, like you." Giannina gently stroked him. "I helped you open your heart. Now talk to your parents, and everything will be fine." Just then, a little rabbit appeared suddenly from the bushes. He came up to Giannina, hugged her, and said: "You are magically magical!" And — you won't believe it — that little rabbit was wearing a lovely pair of colorful glasses. From that day on, Giannina took the children of the town by the paw, teaching them to believe in themselves and to have confidence. She became the mascot with the magic glasses, and everyone wanted to wear them just like her. But the true wonder was how she now saw the world from her window: brighter, more colorful, more alive. And every evening, before falling asleep, she would touch the pearl with her little nose and smile, knowing that the next day she would help someone else see the world with new eyes. It almost seemed like it had been a dream. But as we know, reality and fantasy often walk hand in hand. _— Written by Lucia & Marco Ciappelli_ Hosted by Simplecast, an AdsWizz company. See pcm.adswizz.com for information about our collection and use of personal data for advertising.
Giannina the CatGiannina the cat lived in a house with a garden. The garden wall bordered a park where children gathered to play. The town was small but charming — from the windowsills of the houses, pots of geraniums and petunias tumbled down like colorful cascades.Her owner, Signora Mafalda, often took her around the town center. All the children knew her, and whenever they spotted her, they would run over and shower her with affection.Giannina was quite the little rascal. During the day she loved chasing lizards, hunting insects, butterflies, and anything that moved. To rest, she would stretch out in the sun on the warm stones, then cool off among the blades of grass. In the garden, among the pomegranate tree, the lemon tree, and the olive with its silvery leaves, she and Mafalda spent their afternoons playing together.But one day, Mafalda began to notice something strange. Giannina would leap to catch her prey, but she kept missing and ending up in the rose bushes. "Ow, ow, ow! I've pricked myself and my tail is tangled in the branches!" she meowed. She barely managed to dodge trees she used to climb with ease. She reached her food and water bowls with an uncertain gait.Worried, Mafalda took her to the Veterinarian.After listening to the little cat's strange adventures, the Doctor smiled and delivered his verdict with a wise air: "This little kitty can't see well. She needs glasses."No sooner said than done — in the blink of an eye, the veterinarian searched through a display case full of frames for pets and, finding the perfect one, exclaimed: "Here we are — a pair of glasses fit for an elegant lady!"As soon as they were placed on Giannina's sweet little snout, the cat looked around in wonder. She could see everything so clearly! She rubbed against the Veterinarian's legs and leaped into Mafalda's arms as if to thank her.The Doctor, touched by her sweetness, gave her a special gift: a golden chain with a small pearl at its center that glowed with its own light. Whispering, he told her: "If you close your eyes and touch this pearl with your little nose, you will gain magical powers that only you will have. They will help you help others."Giannina thought that perhaps this Veterinarian was also a Wizard, but she said nothing to Mafalda. It was a secret between her and the strange Doctor.On the way home, people turned to look at her, thinking: that cat seems mysterious — there's something glimmering around her.At home, Giannina's first wish was to climb onto a chair and gaze out the window. The flowers shone in their colors, and even the grass was a brilliant green, as if covered in dew. She smiled, happier than ever.Mafalda, sharing in her joy, decided to take her to the park.They arrived in no time. Squirrels scampered through the trees, birds sang as they flew from branch to branch. Small creatures popped out everywhere, and the children followed them with curiosity — they ran alongside the lizards, leaped with the butterflies dancing in the air, while red ladybugs landed on their skin like good luck charms.After chases, slides, and ring-around-the-rosy, the children sat down on the grass for their snack. From their colorful backpacks came tasty treats.That's when they arrived."Vriiip! Vriiip! Vriiip!"At full speed, a platoon of ants zoomed in on rumbling mini-motorcycles. They wore shiny little helmets on their heads, round goggles over their eyes, and tiny boots on their feet. They braked sharply in front of the children, raising little clouds of dust."Make way! We're here too!" shouted the lead ant, lifting her visor. "Can we collect the crumbs?"The children burst out laughing. "Yes, yes! Munch all the crumbs you want!"The ants parked their mini-motorcycles in a neat row, removed their helmets with theatrical gestures, and got to work carrying crumbs twice their size, singing a little marching song.In this joyful atmosphere, Giannina and Mafalda strolled along the pathways. And suddenly, as they passed, the trees bent their branches in a bow and their leaves rustled in greeting. The roses in the flower beds opened their petals and began to sing. The lizards beat their tails on the ground like drums: "Rattatatà! Rattatatà!" And the millipedes started tap dancing to the lively rhythm."Oh my, what a wonderful commotion!" exclaimed Giannina, who was beginning to feel a mysterious aura around her.She couldn't help but think of the Wizard Veterinarian. What could these magical powers be? And what would happen if she touched the pearl with her little nose?She told Mafalda, who was carrying a book of fairy tales under her arm. They looked at each other and, understanding instantly, seized the moment.Giannina gathered the children in a circle. Some came quickly, others more shy joined in slowly. The ants too, their bellies full, put on their mini helmets again, did one last rumbling lap on their motorcycles, then climbed off and approached the group.It was the right moment.Giannina closed her eyes and touched the magic pearl with her little nose. A golden spark flashed in the air. She took the book from Mafalda's hands, opened it, and chose the tale that seemed to be waiting for her, glowing among the pages.In a gentle voice, she began to read."Once upon a time, there was a little rabbit who lived in the woods. He kept tripping over tree roots and pebbles. At school, he made mistakes reading letters and numbers, so he didn't want to go anymore. When the teacher saw his drawings, she said: 'Well done!' His mom and dad said the same: 'Well done!' But to him, the colors seemed faded. The truth was, he couldn't see well, but instead of saying so, he would run away and hide in a burrow beneath a talking tree. And the tree, with the rustle of its leaves, whispered a secret: talk to your parents. So he did, and they helped him get glasses. And the world became beautiful again."Giannina closed the book. She understood: with the magic pearl, she could read the hearts of children, discovering emotions and secrets waiting to be brought to light."You know," she said to her little listeners, "not long ago, I couldn't see well either. But I put on these glasses and poof! The world became clearer and more beautiful."A boy approached her, almost embarrassed, and whispered in her ear: "Maybe I need them too, like you."Giannina gently stroked him. "I helped you open your heart. Now talk to your parents, and everything will be fine."Just then, a little rabbit appeared suddenly from the bushes. He came up to Giannina, hugged her, and said: "You are magically magical!"And — you won't believe it — that little rabbit was wearing a lovely pair of colorful glasses.From that day on, Giannina took the children of the town by the paw, teaching them to believe in themselves and to have confidence. She became the mascot with the magic glasses, and everyone wanted to wear them just like her.But the true wonder was how she now saw the world from her window: brighter, more colorful, more alive. And every evening, before falling asleep, she would touch the pearl with her little nose and smile, knowing that the next day she would help someone else see the world with new eyes.It almost seemed like it had been a dream. But as we know, reality and fantasy often walk hand in hand.— Written by Lucia & Marco Ciappelli Each story is currently written and narrated in both Italian and English.The translation from Italian (the original language) to English and the reading of the stories are performed using Generative Artificial Intelligence — which perhaps has a touch of magic... We hope it has done a good job!If you like it, make sure to tell your friends, family, and teachers, and subscribe to this podcast to stay updated. You'll be able to read or listen to new stories as soon as they become available. Visit us On The Official Website https://www.storiesottolestelle.com/ Hosted by Simplecast, an AdsWizz company. See pcm.adswizz.com for information about our collection and use of personal data for advertising.
LEOPOLDO'S SECRET LIBRARYSome people are strange — they like to spend their evenings reading books.Others are even stranger — they believe in the magic found between pages, in fantastical adventures, in stories of impossible love, in ghosts that walk among the living, and they think that everything that doesn't exist — maybe does after all.In short, this story is for those who are a little strange, like you and me — you know, for those who.So… listen.If you take the road up the hill from the center of town, you'll find an old and noble villa, one that has been there for a very long time. It must be about 350 years now that it has stood there in silence, watching and breathing softly beneath the Tuscan sky.Enormous rooms filled with history, endless corridors, and windows as large as dreams — but now, instead of porcelain plates and figurines, it gives us stories on paper for those who wish to read them.Yes, now it's the town library — a bit out of the way, but so beautiful. Well, you can't have everything.Now, on a summer night, wrapped in a blanket of stars and the soft glow of delicate lanterns, the villa had filled with voices, music, smiles, and so many stories told and heard, spoken aloud or whispered, intertwining in the embrace of the celebration.A special evening already, no doubt, but pay attention, because something even more unusual was about to happen.Yes, because Elisa was there too. Eyes as wide as the sky, hair as dark as the night, and a book in her hand — as always.Despite everything happening around her, Elisa preferred to read.She was there, in the main corridor: between the garden and the inner courtyard, halfway between the certain and the perhaps, sitting in an armchair a little too big for her, lost in a mysterious and captivating story — in a world all her own.She turns a page, then another, adjusts her yellow glasses, and turns another page…When slowly, the echo of piano music reached her ears.She didn't pay much attention. Thinking it came from the courtyard, she turned another page — and then another.But before long she realized that the notes she heard were not coming from the villa's courtyard but from one of its corridors — carried by a gentle breeze, from faraway places outside of time.Without thinking too much, Elisa rose silently, tucked her book under her arm, and followed the music.She crossed ancient corridors and rooms with shelves full of volumes of every size and color imaginable — rainbows of thoughts and words lined up one by one that seemed to never end.As the music grew stronger, the light faded, the rooms she passed through began to appear forgotten, the stone stairs she climbed and descended worn by time, the side corridors were now dark passages lit only by torches on the walls, appearing and disappearing in the darkness like breaths.A staircase, a wooden door left ajar, another passage, another staircase, and still more rooms and shelves and books without end.Then, suddenly, a mist covered the floor like a gentle tide, and there, before her, a heavy curtain — half open.A little light showed through, and a few small wooden steps.She climbed them, those little stairs, and the music wrapped around her like an embrace.On the stage, candles floated in the air like fireflies on a timeless night. And there, at the center, seated before a tiny piano, was a mouse.But not just any mouse.Leopoldo wore a dark green tweed jacket, brown trousers pressed with care, and on his little snout, golden spectacles that gleamed with ancient and gentle wisdom.His fingers danced on the keys as if they were telling a secret."Welcome, Elisa," he said, without stopping his playing. "I've been waiting for you."Elisa blinked, enchanted. "How do you know my name?""Ah," Leopoldo smiled, letting the last note fade softly into the air, "those who love stories always recognize those who seek them."He stood, adjusted his jacket with an elegant gesture, and looked at her with eyes full of stars."Do you know where you are?""In the town library," Elisa answered, but her voice trembled a little, as if she knew the answer was something else."That one everyone knows," said Leopoldo, stepping down slowly from the stage. "Every town has one that everyone knows. But every town also has another — one that almost no one finds."He paused, his eyes gleaming."You have found the second."Leopoldo led her toward a large wooden door that Elisa could have sworn wasn't there a moment before. It opened slowly, without a sound, like a sigh held too long.And what she saw took her breath away.Endless shelves climbed upward, descended downward, stretched in every direction like spirals of galaxies made of paper and dreams. Candles floated everywhere, illuminating books that seemed to breathe, to pulse softly, like sleeping hearts."What is this place?" Elisa whispered."This," said Leopoldo, walking among the shelves, "is the library of books never written."Elisa followed, confused. "Books never written? But how can they exist?"Leopoldo stopped, turned, and looked at her with infinite gentleness."Every story ever dreamed exists, Elisa. Every adventure imagined before sleep. Every tale thought but never put to paper. They all live here, at the border between the world and the dream, waiting."They stopped before a shelf.Leopoldo pointed to a small book, bound in blue like a summer sky."Touch it," he said softly.Elisa reached out, hesitant, and brushed the cover.A gentle warmth passed through her fingers. And for an instant — just an instant — she heard a child's laughter, saw a dragon made of clouds, and a castle built of pillows and blankets."This," said Leopoldo, "was the dream of a six-year-old boy. A story he told his teddy bear every night. He never wrote it down. But it exists. You see? It exists."Elisa smiled, her heart light.They walked on, through corridors of silent stories, until Leopoldo stopped before another book.This one was different. Larger, bound in dark leather, with golden letters that seemed to tremble."And this one?" asked Elisa, quietly."This one," said Leopoldo, and his voice grew soft as a caress, "belonged to a grandmother."Elisa touched it.And she felt something different.Not laughter, this time. But a warm, distant voice, telling of a brave little girl who crossed an enchanted forest to bring light to a forgotten village."It was the story she wanted to leave her grandchildren," Leopoldo explained. "But time… time sometimes runs faster than dreams. She didn't have time to write it."Elisa felt her eyes sting."But it's here," she whispered."It's here," Leopoldo confirmed. "Forever."They continued walking, in silence, until they reached a shelf unlike the others.It was nearly empty. Only a few books, spaced apart, and so many open spaces, waiting.At the center, a book without a title.The cover was white, clean, like freshly fallen snow, like a page waiting for its first mark."May I?" asked Elisa.Leopoldo nodded.She touched it.Nothing. No warmth. No voice. Only silence. But a full silence, like a breath held."This book is empty," said Elisa, surprised."Not yet written," Leopoldo corrected. "Not even dreamed. Not yet. It waits for someone to find the courage to imagine it."He turned toward her, and his eyes shone like the candles floating around them."Perhaps it waits for you. Perhaps it waits for someone else. But it waits."Elisa stood still, looking at that white book.And she understood.She understood that every story she had ever imagined, every adventure invented before sleep, every dream she thought lost upon waking, existed somewhere.And she understood something else.That you don't have to be afraid to write.Because stories already exist — in the heart, in the mind, in dreams. Putting them on paper is not creating them from nothing. It is only opening a door and letting them out."I have to go, don't I?" said Elisa, softly.Leopoldo smiled. "Your world awaits you. But now you know this place exists. And you know that every story you dream will always have a place here, whether you write it or not."He paused."But if you do write it," he added with a sly smile, "it can live out there too. And that, my dear, is another kind of magic."Elisa found herself back in the villa's corridor, sitting in the armchair a little too big for her, the book still under her arm.The celebration went on, voices and music and laughter, as if no time had passed at all.But something had changed.She had changed.She opened the book she had been reading, looked at the pages, and smiled.Then she closed it.Because now she knew that the most beautiful stories are not only the ones we read.They are the ones we carry inside, the ones we dream with our eyes open, and the ones that one day, with a little courage, we dare to tell.— This story was written by Marco Ciappelli for "Storie Sotto Le Stelle" Hosted by Simplecast, an AdsWizz company. See pcm.adswizz.com for information about our collection and use of personal data for advertising.
LEOPOLDO'S SECRET LIBRARYSome people are strange — they like to spend their evenings reading books.Others are even stranger — they believe in the magic found between pages, in fantastical adventures, in stories of impossible love, in ghosts that walk among the living, and they think that everything that doesn't exist — maybe does after all.In short, this story is for those who are a little strange, like you and me — you know, for those who.So… listen.If you take the road up the hill from the center of town, you'll find an old and noble villa, one that has been there for a very long time. It must be about 350 years now that it has stood there in silence, watching and breathing softly beneath the Tuscan sky.Enormous rooms filled with history, endless corridors, and windows as large as dreams — but now, instead of porcelain plates and figurines, it gives us stories on paper for those who wish to read them.Yes, now it's the town library — a bit out of the way, but so beautiful. Well, you can't have everything.Now, on a summer night, wrapped in a blanket of stars and the soft glow of delicate lanterns, the villa had filled with voices, music, smiles, and so many stories told and heard, spoken aloud or whispered, intertwining in the embrace of the celebration.A special evening already, no doubt, but pay attention, because something even more unusual was about to happen.Yes, because Elisa was there too. Eyes as wide as the sky, hair as dark as the night, and a book in her hand — as always.Despite everything happening around her, Elisa preferred to read.She was there, in the main corridor: between the garden and the inner courtyard, halfway between the certain and the perhaps, sitting in an armchair a little too big for her, lost in a mysterious and captivating story — in a world all her own.She turns a page, then another, adjusts her yellow glasses, and turns another page…When slowly, the echo of piano music reached her ears.She didn't pay much attention. Thinking it came from the courtyard, she turned another page — and then another.But before long she realized that the notes she heard were not coming from the villa's courtyard but from one of its corridors — carried by a gentle breeze, from faraway places outside of time.Without thinking too much, Elisa rose silently, tucked her book under her arm, and followed the music.She crossed ancient corridors and rooms with shelves full of volumes of every size and color imaginable — rainbows of thoughts and words lined up one by one that seemed to never end.As the music grew stronger, the light faded, the rooms she passed through began to appear forgotten, the stone stairs she climbed and descended worn by time, the side corridors were now dark passages lit only by torches on the walls, appearing and disappearing in the darkness like breaths.A staircase, a wooden door left ajar, another passage, another staircase, and still more rooms and shelves and books without end.Then, suddenly, a mist covered the floor like a gentle tide, and there, before her, a heavy curtain — half open.A little light showed through, and a few small wooden steps.She climbed them, those little stairs, and the music wrapped around her like an embrace.On the stage, candles floated in the air like fireflies on a timeless night. And there, at the center, seated before a tiny piano, was a mouse.But not just any mouse.Leopoldo wore a dark green tweed jacket, brown trousers pressed with care, and on his little snout, golden spectacles that gleamed with ancient and gentle wisdom.His fingers danced on the keys as if they were telling a secret."Welcome, Elisa," he said, without stopping his playing. "I've been waiting for you."Elisa blinked, enchanted. "How do you know my name?""Ah," Leopoldo smiled, letting the last note fade softly into the air, "those who love stories always recognize those who seek them."He stood, adjusted his jacket with an elegant gesture, and looked at her with eyes full of stars."Do you know where you are?""In the town library," Elisa answered, but her voice trembled a little, as if she knew the answer was something else."That one everyone knows," said Leopoldo, stepping down slowly from the stage. "Every town has one that everyone knows. But every town also has another — one that almost no one finds."He paused, his eyes gleaming."You have found the second."Leopoldo led her toward a large wooden door that Elisa could have sworn wasn't there a moment before. It opened slowly, without a sound, like a sigh held too long.And what she saw took her breath away.Endless shelves climbed upward, descended downward, stretched in every direction like spirals of galaxies made of paper and dreams. Candles floated everywhere, illuminating books that seemed to breathe, to pulse softly, like sleeping hearts."What is this place?" Elisa whispered."This," said Leopoldo, walking among the shelves, "is the library of books never written."Elisa followed, confused. "Books never written? But how can they exist?"Leopoldo stopped, turned, and looked at her with infinite gentleness."Every story ever dreamed exists, Elisa. Every adventure imagined before sleep. Every tale thought but never put to paper. They all live here, at the border between the world and the dream, waiting."They stopped before a shelf.Leopoldo pointed to a small book, bound in blue like a summer sky."Touch it," he said softly.Elisa reached out, hesitant, and brushed the cover.A gentle warmth passed through her fingers. And for an instant — just an instant — she heard a child's laughter, saw a dragon made of clouds, and a castle built of pillows and blankets."This," said Leopoldo, "was the dream of a six-year-old boy. A story he told his teddy bear every night. He never wrote it down. But it exists. You see? It exists."Elisa smiled, her heart light.They walked on, through corridors of silent stories, until Leopoldo stopped before another book.This one was different. Larger, bound in dark leather, with golden letters that seemed to tremble."And this one?" asked Elisa, quietly."This one," said Leopoldo, and his voice grew soft as a caress, "belonged to a grandmother."Elisa touched it.And she felt something different.Not laughter, this time. But a warm, distant voice, telling of a brave little girl who crossed an enchanted forest to bring light to a forgotten village."It was the story she wanted to leave her grandchildren," Leopoldo explained. "But time… time sometimes runs faster than dreams. She didn't have time to write it."Elisa felt her eyes sting."But it's here," she whispered."It's here," Leopoldo confirmed. "Forever."They continued walking, in silence, until they reached a shelf unlike the others.It was nearly empty. Only a few books, spaced apart, and so many open spaces, waiting.At the center, a book without a title.The cover was white, clean, like freshly fallen snow, like a page waiting for its first mark."May I?" asked Elisa.Leopoldo nodded.She touched it.Nothing. No warmth. No voice. Only silence. But a full silence, like a breath held."This book is empty," said Elisa, surprised."Not yet written," Leopoldo corrected. "Not even dreamed. Not yet. It waits for someone to find the courage to imagine it."He turned toward her, and his eyes shone like the candles floating around them."Perhaps it waits for you. Perhaps it waits for someone else. But it waits."Elisa stood still, looking at that white book.And she understood.She understood that every story she had ever imagined, every adventure invented before sleep, every dream she thought lost upon waking, existed somewhere.And she understood something else.That you don't have to be afraid to write.Because stories already exist — in the heart, in the mind, in dreams. Putting them on paper is not creating them from nothing. It is only opening a door and letting them out."I have to go, don't I?" said Elisa, softly.Leopoldo smiled. "Your world awaits you. But now you know this place exists. And you know that every story you dream will always have a place here, whether you write it or not."He paused."But if you do write it," he added with a sly smile, "it can live out there too. And that, my dear, is another kind of magic."Elisa found herself back in the villa's corridor, sitting in the armchair a little too big for her, the book still under her arm.The celebration went on, voices and music and laughter, as if no time had passed at all.But something had changed.She had changed.She opened the book she had been reading, looked at the pages, and smiled.Then she closed it.Because now she knew that the most beautiful stories are not only the ones we read.They are the ones we carry inside, the ones we dream with our eyes open, and the ones that one day, with a little courage, we dare to tell.— This story was written by Marco Ciappelli for "Storie Sotto Le Stelle" Each story is currently written and narrated in both Italian and English.The translation from Italian (the original language) to English and the reading of the stories are performed using Generative Artificial Intelligence — which perhaps has a touch of magic... We hope it has done a good job!If you like it, make sure to tell your friends, family, and teachers, and subscribe to this podcast to stay updated. You'll be able to read or listen to new stories as soon as they become available. Visit us On The Official Website https://www.storiesottolestelle.com/ Hosted by Simplecast, an AdsWizz company. See pcm.adswizz.com for information about our collection and use of personal data for advertising.
Send us a textIn this podcast short, Susan Stageman shares insights on effective goal-setting and reflects on a helpful exercise she completed in December. She encourages listeners to review their past accomplishments and connect them to current goals, emphasizing the importance of valuing and aligning goals with personal interests. Susan also discusses the value of setting goals outside of work and recommends the book "Orbiting the Giant Hairball" by Gordon McKenzie for those seeking to navigate corporate structures creatively. She concludes by expressing her willingness to assist others in NLP training and encourages listeners to share her podcast with anyone who might benefit from it.Support the show
In this video, Doug Pagitt of Vote Common Good is joined by Rev. Lori Walke for a conversation about the context, urgency, and lived experiences behind their recent Guardian op-ed, “We're pastors. The fight against MAGA Christianity starts locally.”
Where has Santa Claus gone?Once upon a time there was Santa Claus's Village — but Santa Claus wasn't there. He had been missing for days and days… actually for months. Who would prepare and deliver gifts to the children as they did every year?That part of the North Pole which was usually very busy had become strangely silent — not an Elf could be seen around, no sounds of bells, the sleighs were covered in snow and all the reindeer dozed about confused.If you looked into his house you couldn't see a trace of life. The fireplace cold, the rocking chair covered in cobwebs, an empty cup on the wooden table and a candle stub burnt out long ago.Many were the rumours that had spread about Santa Claus's absence. Some said he was on another planet in a far, far away galaxy, some on the Moon, some on the vast oceans — and someone even said he had opened a bakery in Buenos Aires.The mystery was thick. Nobody could make sense of it and everything was silent and still.Meanwhile, many miles away, in the Southern Seas, a group of seagulls who spent their days fluttering above the bay spotted a small sailing boat in the distance. There was only one sailor on board who was hoisting the main sail up the creaking mast.The eldest seagull couldn't believe his eyes. He did a couple of acrobatics in the air, pulled out his spyglass, looked more carefully and said: "But I know him! That sailor comes from distant lands!"Turning to the other seagulls he told them: "One day, during one of my long journeys, I lost my way and found myself on the frozen rooftops of a village at the North Pole. I landed right on the house of that long-bearded man you see on the boat. He heard me calling for help, came to fetch me, fed me and told me about his work. I think this meeting has something magical about it. Our next adventure is about to begin."Gliding down, they headed towards the boat and all landed on the bow. The seagull and the sailor greeted each other like old friends.Shortly after, a group of dolphins arrived near the sailing boat, curious. They swam in circles around the boat, jumping out of the water.The youngest dolphin noticed something strange. "Look! Wood shavings are coming out of the hold and floating! And you can see little lights below deck."The long-bearded sailor smiled. "Come," he said in a warm voice, "I'll show you what I've done all these months."He opened the hatch to the hold and inside, by the light of two swaying lanterns, you could see a floating workshop full of wonders. With a sharp plane he had worked pieces of wood recovered from the sea, transforming them into toys — and he had done the same with shells, coconuts, cork stoppers, glass bottles, starfish and golden threads that had arrived from who knows where."I travelled to learn new ways of bringing joy," the sailor explained. "But there's so much work to do and Christmas is coming. Would you help me finish?"And so they all set to work together. The dolphins brought special shells from the bottom of the sea. The seagulls gathered coloured feathers. The objects transformed into gifts were placed in large canvas sacks.The days passed quickly.On the first of December the captain, wearing his red warm hat with his pipe in his mouth, looked at the starry sky and said: "It's time to leave."The dolphins lifted the sailing boat until it rose above the waves. The sails filled with wind and it took flight, whilst the flock of seagulls guided it through the clouds following dreams. Together they continued the journey heading north, flying through the endless blue.Night fell quickly and in the sky full of stars one shone brighter than all the others. It was the North Star which with its light accompanied the sailing boat's descent to earth.By magic, as it approached the village, the sailing boat transformed into a sleigh loaded with gifts. The presents built in the hold arrived in the workshop to be delivered together with all the other parcels.When it landed on the roof of his house, a tinkling of bells was heard in the distance. The Elves looked out of their doors and shouted: "It's him! It's him! It's Santa Claus! He's back!"The red-nosed reindeer woke up suddenly and began polishing the sleighs, decorating them with bows and coloured pine cones.Life in the village awakened all at once. The tree branches shook as if they were being tickled. A group of penguins, who had arrived at the North Pole to lend a hand, sliding on the ice sheets at great speed, ended up inside snowdrifts and came out like bouncing balls.“You are so funny! We'll hang you on the Christmas tree as decorations!" the village animals shouted.But the penguins, freeing themselves from the snow, ran towards Santa Claus's house to help with the preparations.In the village absolutely everyone got moving. The reindeer rushed to the Post Office and filled the sacks with letters, then carried them to the workshop. The Elves with the help of the penguins were ready for work.That morning, when the bells rang out in celebration, foxes, squirrels, hares and bears came running from every corner of the forest to celebrate Santa Claus's return. There was so much to do for the joy of all the children in the world.The air smelt of fir trees and homemade biscuits. The Christmas trees sparkled with icicles like stars. The animals chased each other happily with their noses turned upwards.The preparations began in earnest. Throughout the month of December they worked together — saws that sang, hammers that played, coloured paper that flew. Santa Claus told stories of his journey whilst he hammered and sanded.And when the 24th of December arrived, everything was ready. The presents were loaded onto the sleigh and Santa Claus set off on his most important journey.The seagulls flew away towards new horizons, leaving their footprints on the snowy rooftops.Since that Christmas it is said that Santa Claus never left the North Pole again."What if it was only a tale? Is it true, or not? The final decision is yours!" — Written by Lucia & Marco CiappelliFor the Italian version and many more stories to read and listen to: https://www.storiesottolestelle.com Hosted by Simplecast, an AdsWizz company. See pcm.adswizz.com for information about our collection and use of personal data for advertising.
Where has Santa Claus gone?Once upon a time there was Santa Claus's Village — but Santa Claus wasn't there. He had been missing for days and days… actually for months. Who would prepare and deliver gifts to the children as they did every year?That part of the North Pole which was usually very busy had become strangely silent — not an Elf could be seen around, no sounds of bells, the sleighs were covered in snow and all the reindeer dozed about confused.If you looked into his house you couldn't see a trace of life. The fireplace cold, the rocking chair covered in cobwebs, an empty cup on the wooden table and a candle stub burnt out long ago.Many were the rumours that had spread about Santa Claus's absence. Some said he was on another planet in a far, far away galaxy, some on the Moon, some on the vast oceans — and someone even said he had opened a bakery in Buenos Aires.The mystery was thick. Nobody could make sense of it and everything was silent and still.Meanwhile, many miles away, in the Southern Seas, a group of seagulls who spent their days fluttering above the bay spotted a small sailing boat in the distance. There was only one sailor on board who was hoisting the main sail up the creaking mast.The eldest seagull couldn't believe his eyes. He did a couple of acrobatics in the air, pulled out his spyglass, looked more carefully and said: "But I know him! That sailor comes from distant lands!"Turning to the other seagulls he told them: "One day, during one of my long journeys, I lost my way and found myself on the frozen rooftops of a village at the North Pole. I landed right on the house of that long-bearded man you see on the boat. He heard me calling for help, came to fetch me, fed me and told me about his work. I think this meeting has something magical about it. Our next adventure is about to begin."Gliding down, they headed towards the boat and all landed on the bow. The seagull and the sailor greeted each other like old friends.Shortly after, a group of dolphins arrived near the sailing boat, curious. They swam in circles around the boat, jumping out of the water.The youngest dolphin noticed something strange. "Look! Wood shavings are coming out of the hold and floating! And you can see little lights below deck."The long-bearded sailor smiled. "Come," he said in a warm voice, "I'll show you what I've done all these months."He opened the hatch to the hold and inside, by the light of two swaying lanterns, you could see a floating workshop full of wonders. With a sharp plane he had worked pieces of wood recovered from the sea, transforming them into toys — and he had done the same with shells, coconuts, cork stoppers, glass bottles, starfish and golden threads that had arrived from who knows where."I travelled to learn new ways of bringing joy," the sailor explained. "But there's so much work to do and Christmas is coming. Would you help me finish?"And so they all set to work together. The dolphins brought special shells from the bottom of the sea. The seagulls gathered coloured feathers. The objects transformed into gifts were placed in large canvas sacks.The days passed quickly.On the first of December the captain, wearing his red warm hat with his pipe in his mouth, looked at the starry sky and said: "It's time to leave."The dolphins lifted the sailing boat until it rose above the waves. The sails filled with wind and it took flight, whilst the flock of seagulls guided it through the clouds following dreams. Together they continued the journey heading north, flying through the endless blue.Night fell quickly and in the sky full of stars one shone brighter than all the others. It was the North Star which with its light accompanied the sailing boat's descent to earth.By magic, as it approached the village, the sailing boat transformed into a sleigh loaded with gifts. The presents built in the hold arrived in the workshop to be delivered together with all the other parcels.When it landed on the roof of his house, a tinkling of bells was heard in the distance. The Elves looked out of their doors and shouted: "It's him! It's him! It's Santa Claus! He's back!"The red-nosed reindeer woke up suddenly and began polishing the sleighs, decorating them with bows and coloured pine cones.Life in the village awakened all at once. The tree branches shook as if they were being tickled. A group of penguins, who had arrived at the North Pole to lend a hand, sliding on the ice sheets at great speed, ended up inside snowdrifts and came out like bouncing balls.“You are so funny! We'll hang you on the Christmas tree as decorations!" the village animals shouted.But the penguins, freeing themselves from the snow, ran towards Santa Claus's house to help with the preparations.In the village absolutely everyone got moving. The reindeer rushed to the Post Office and filled the sacks with letters, then carried them to the workshop. The Elves with the help of the penguins were ready for work.That morning, when the bells rang out in celebration, foxes, squirrels, hares and bears came running from every corner of the forest to celebrate Santa Claus's return. There was so much to do for the joy of all the children in the world.The air smelt of fir trees and homemade biscuits. The Christmas trees sparkled with icicles like stars. The animals chased each other happily with their noses turned upwards.The preparations began in earnest. Throughout the month of December they worked together — saws that sang, hammers that played, coloured paper that flew. Santa Claus told stories of his journey whilst he hammered and sanded.And when the 24th of December arrived, everything was ready. The presents were loaded onto the sleigh and Santa Claus set off on his most important journey.The seagulls flew away towards new horizons, leaving their footprints on the snowy rooftops.Since that Christmas it is said that Santa Claus never left the North Pole again."What if it was only a tale? Is it true, or not? The final decision is yours!" — Written by Lucia & Marco CiappelliFor the Italian version and many more stories to read and listen to: https://www.storiesottolestelle.com Each story is currently written and narrated in both Italian and English.The translation from Italian (the original language) to English and the reading of the stories are performed using Generative Artificial Intelligence — which perhaps has a touch of magic... We hope it has done a good job!If you like it, make sure to tell your friends, family, and teachers, and subscribe to this podcast to stay updated. You'll be able to read or listen to new stories as soon as they become available. Visit us On The Official Website https://www.storiesottolestelle.com/ Hosted by Simplecast, an AdsWizz company. See pcm.adswizz.com for information about our collection and use of personal data for advertising.
Oggi su Marketing Garage Gianluca Testa intervista Annalisa Terzoli, CEO & Co-Founder di Vocal, agenzia specializzata nella creazione di branded podcast.In questa intervista parliamo di:✅ Perché il podcast è il media più “intimo” e coinvolgente per costruire relazioni con il pubblico✅ Come progettare un podcast efficace: produzione, marketing e distribuzione, pubblicità e PR✅ Formati brevi vs lunghi: quale scegliere?✅ Promozione organica e sponsorizzata (Spotify, Meta, Social)✅ Podcast advertising e inserzioni contestualizzate✅ Podcast e Intelligenza Artificiale: traduzioni vocali, nuovi mercati e scenari futuri✅ Si può vivere di podcast? Monetizzazione e modelli di business
THE SEASONS IN A BREATHAutumn appeared at the window and looked around— it was November."The leaves are yellow and red.The swallows fly away in flocks over the rooftops.The crisp air smells of roasted chestnuts and burning wood.I like it this way,"Autumn exclaimed.Winter opened the door and looked around— it was January."The snow and the freezing wind.In the woods, mistletoe on branches beneath a blanket of ice.The marmot sleeps in her covered den, dreaming of the stars.How lovely it is to be warm and cozy!"Winter exclaimed.Spring stepped out onto the terrace and looked around— it was April."The flowers bloom and the birds chirp, returning to their nests.With the mild temperature, joyful life vibrates in the air.How wonderful!"Spring exclaimed.Summer went into the garden and looked around— it was July.A cat rests in the shade of a pine tree.The air smells of cut grass and ripe fruit.The butterflies dance carefree to the song of the cicadas.The sun makes me smile!"Summer exclaimed.The months pass and the year spins at great speed,but they will always bring something beautiful. Hosted by Simplecast, an AdsWizz company. See pcm.adswizz.com for information about our collection and use of personal data for advertising.
THE SEASONS IN A BREATHAutumn appeared at the window and looked around— it was November."The leaves are yellow and red.The swallows fly away in flocks over the rooftops.The crisp air smells of roasted chestnuts and burning wood.I like it this way,"Autumn exclaimed.Winter opened the door and looked around— it was January."The snow and the freezing wind.In the woods, mistletoe on branches beneath a blanket of ice.The marmot sleeps in her covered den, dreaming of the stars.How lovely it is to be warm and cozy!"Winter exclaimed.Spring stepped out onto the terrace and looked around— it was April."The flowers bloom and the birds chirp, returning to their nests.With the mild temperature, joyful life vibrates in the air.How wonderful!"Spring exclaimed.Summer went into the garden and looked around— it was July.A cat rests in the shade of a pine tree.The air smells of cut grass and ripe fruit.The butterflies dance carefree to the song of the cicadas.The sun makes me smile!"Summer exclaimed.The months pass and the year spins at great speed,but they will always bring something beautiful. Each story is currently written and narrated in both Italian and English.The translation from Italian (the original language) to English and the reading of the stories are performed using Generative Artificial Intelligence — which perhaps has a touch of magic... We hope it has done a good job!If you like it, make sure to tell your friends, family, and teachers, and subscribe to this podcast to stay updated. You'll be able to read or listen to new stories as soon as they become available. Visit us On The Official Website https://www.storiesottolestelle.com/ Hosted by Simplecast, an AdsWizz company. See pcm.adswizz.com for information about our collection and use of personal data for advertising.
Halloween over Florence: THE MARKET OF GHOSTSSeverino lived in the bell tower on the hill — the one next to the ancient Basilica of San Miniato al Monte.Every evening, at sunset, he would lock the gate at the base of the entrance stairway and before climbing back up, he would pause to watch Florence color itself amber.And so he did today as well. The tourists had left. Time stopped and silence became sacred again.Through the rusted bars the city stood there motionless — perhaps since forever; with its red roofs, marble facades and the Arno flowing between its stones like a glittering silver ribbon.Domes and towers trembling with light, almost suspended in the air, as if everything and everyone were holding their breath waiting for twilight — and for the night that would cover it with shadows, stars and dreams.One more glance, then he turned on his transistor radio that he had found a few years ago and the notes of Duke Ellington's 'Don't Get Around Much Anymore' filled the autumn evening.Silence may be sacred for the monks, but for Severino music was more so. Seven, his raven, didn't need to be called and at the first notes launched himself from the cypresses of the cemetery above, circled in front of the imposing facade of the Basilica and suddenly glided down along the stairway, to land gently on his left shoulder."Hey Seven, had a good day?""Yes. Could have been worse — Let's settle for that."At which, Severino smiled, turned up the radio's volume and began climbing resolutely toward le Porte del Cielo, while Jazz music echoed among the ancient stones.Nine years ago, on this same day in the month of October, the Olivetan monks residing in the Abbey found a child on the steps of the Basilica.He was there, wrapped in fog, silent as the night, eyes curious as the wind, without name and without past. They called him Severino — I don't know why — and he grew up among prayers and silences. He played in ancient rooms and discovered his world, surrounded by books, tombs, art and mysteries never revealed. At night a raven and a black cat accompanied him, illuminated by the moon, in the Cimitero delle Porte Sante, wandering among imposing crypts and motionless statues that whispered memories and mysteries.But on Halloween nights the whispers transform into screams and endless laments. Secrets manifest themselves, legends become reality, and dreams disguised as nightmares knock on doors lit by candles. And that full moon night was precisely this night: October 31st — and remember, whether you believe in spirits or not, nothing changes: the ghosts will come.And Severino was up there, right there waiting for them to arrive. Leaning out the highest window of the bell tower, calm, looking at Florence from above. While Thelonious Monk's 'Round Midnight' played on his radio, he watched — tapping time with one foot and waited.At the second of the twelve strokes of the midnight bells, something began to happen. On the Arno formed a dense fog that pulsed with spectral green. It began to rise and slide slow but inexorable over the bridges like fingers of cold hands of impatient ghosts. It slid over the Ponte Vecchio and rolled through the streets of Oltrarno until reaching San Niccolò, where it climbed up the hill swallowing everything it found in its path.When it reached the gate of San Miniato, it slipped through the bars and climbed up the stairs until it covered, like a high luminous tide, the entire square in front of the church. It climbed up the marble facade and wrapped also the Cimitero delle Porte Sante, covering the entire hill in a cloak of mystery. Then slowly, as if by enchantment, the fog began to dissolve rising toward the sky and when the last cloud melted into the night air, the square was no longer empty.Small jack-o'-lanterns with flickering lights floated in the air smiling with teeth of fire. Black candles sprouted from nowhere, illuminating spectral stalls full of everything and nothing. Bats that seemed made of paper but were alive fluttered among the lights with wings of black velvet, while autumn leaves danced without wind, sparkling with gold and copper. Pumpkins of every shape filled the stands, some carved with funny faces, others covered with silver spiderwebs that shone like threads of moon. Witch hats swirled in the air like flying umbrellas rotating slow on themselves. Roasted chestnuts perfumed the air with cinnamon and mystery, while small dancing skeletons tinkled like ice bells.And finally in the Cimitero delle Porte Sante, the Portal opened. Like every Halloween, for centuries, spirits from all over the world congregated in Florence for their annual meeting. A spectral river of ghosts poured into the square, each heading toward their own stall, and each with their impossible merchandise to sell or trade. The spirits had arrived and Severino observed them from above. A carnival of other worlds, made of sounds, colors and unimaginable stories.The deserted square had transformed into the Market of Ghosts. Stalls kept materializing from nowhere, carved and glowing pumpkins told each other stories of Halloweens past, present and future laughing malicious among the perfumes of lost memories, past centuries, tomorrow's candles and fallen stardust. The sky above the Tuscan hills and above Florence was full of ghosts arriving from everywhere to search for the unfindable. But no human eye could see this spectacle. No one except Severino, who descended from the tower enchanted by that spectacle and immersed himself in the crowd pulsating with otherworldly life. Seven circled above him observing with attentive eyes and cawing a bit nervous. Some ghosts looked at him with curiosity and recognized him. Someone greeted him and many others whispered his name in forgotten languages."There he is," murmured a witch from Prague."The child of time," sighed a Norman knight."He's returned, I told you so." laughed a Caribbean pirate.But Severino paid them no attention because there were ghosts selling: dreams of sleeping dragons, laughter of northern gnomes, tears of mermaids in love, the last breath of dinosaurs, shadows of unicorns. And even fears from past Halloweens — two for the price of one, but only for tonight. The ghost of a pirate who died during a boarding gone not so well shouted: "Storm bottles! Lightning in jars!" A witch from Salem whispered: "Love potions that last three lifetimes…" A medieval knight showed swords that cut fear, A Chinese spirit waved kites that fly into the past.The spectral crowd grew and thickened, laughed and bargained, while Severino walked amazed and fascinated among the impossible stalls of the Halloween Market. Seven cawed restless from above and Eleven, the black cat with orange eyes, jumped from one tent to another not losing sight of a single movement of Severino and the hundreds of souls circling around him.A ghost monk from an era that never existed saw him and smiled at him from behind a stall full of ancient radios adorned with mysterious symbols. Severino approached, fascinated."How wonderful! Do they all work?""Oh yes, certainly" replied the monk. "These transmit on the waves of past, present, and future time. But you don't need to buy one."The other ghosts stopped. They ceased selling, buying and bartering. They looked at Severino with respect and listened to what the collector of frequencies told him."The transistor radio you already have is more special than you think. But to discover its true secrets, you'll have to search in the ancient crypts where everything began."And suddenly the first lights of dawn began to illuminate the sky behind San Miniato with pink. In rush and hurry the ghosts said goodbye flying away in the wind. "Until next Halloween!" They told each other crossing in the sky. The stalls vanished. Lanterns and candles went out. The Market of Ghosts dissolved like a dream.Severino found himself alone in the empty square, Seven on his shoulder and Eleven sitting on the low wallLooking at Florence illuminating itself in the day of All Saints. He observed his old radio with new eyes and from the ancient crypts of San Miniato, something seemed to call him. He turned it on, turned up the volume and descended the stairway in time to Chet Baker's version of 'Autumn Leaves'.It was time to throw open the gate of the Basilica of San Miniato al Monte.___________________We will continue this story.... For now a Happy Halloween to all of you, may you always believe in magic!Story written by Marco Ciappelli for "Stories Under The Stars" Halloween 2025___________________Listen to Severino's Playlist for the songs that accompany this story and subscribe to discover new music with every adventure.
Halloween over Florence: THE MARKET OF GHOSTSSeverino lived in the bell tower on the hill — the one next to the ancient Basilica of San Miniato al Monte.Every evening, at sunset, he would lock the gate at the base of the entrance stairway and before climbing back up, he would pause to watch Florence color itself amber.And so he did today as well. The tourists had left. Time stopped and silence became sacred again.Through the rusted bars the city stood there motionless — perhaps since forever; with its red roofs, marble facades and the Arno flowing between its stones like a glittering silver ribbon.Domes and towers trembling with light, almost suspended in the air, as if everything and everyone were holding their breath waiting for twilight — and for the night that would cover it with shadows, stars and dreams.One more glance, then he turned on his transistor radio that he had found a few years ago and the notes of Duke Ellington's 'Don't Get Around Much Anymore' filled the autumn evening.Silence may be sacred for the monks, but for Severino music was more so. Seven, his raven, didn't need to be called and at the first notes launched himself from the cypresses of the cemetery above, circled in front of the imposing facade of the Basilica and suddenly glided down along the stairway, to land gently on his left shoulder."Hey Seven, had a good day?""Yes. Could have been worse — Let's settle for that."At which, Severino smiled, turned up the radio's volume and began climbing resolutely toward le Porte del Cielo, while Jazz music echoed among the ancient stones.Nine years ago, on this same day in the month of October, the Olivetan monks residing in the Abbey found a child on the steps of the Basilica.He was there, wrapped in fog, silent as the night, eyes curious as the wind, without name and without past. They called him Severino — I don't know why — and he grew up among prayers and silences. He played in ancient rooms and discovered his world, surrounded by books, tombs, art and mysteries never revealed. At night a raven and a black cat accompanied him, illuminated by the moon, in the Cimitero delle Porte Sante, wandering among imposing crypts and motionless statues that whispered memories and mysteries.But on Halloween nights the whispers transform into screams and endless laments. Secrets manifest themselves, legends become reality, and dreams disguised as nightmares knock on doors lit by candles. And that full moon night was precisely this night: October 31st — and remember, whether you believe in spirits or not, nothing changes: the ghosts will come.And Severino was up there, right there waiting for them to arrive. Leaning out the highest window of the bell tower, calm, looking at Florence from above. While Thelonious Monk's 'Round Midnight' played on his radio, he watched — tapping time with one foot and waited.At the second of the twelve strokes of the midnight bells, something began to happen. On the Arno formed a dense fog that pulsed with spectral green. It began to rise and slide slow but inexorable over the bridges like fingers of cold hands of impatient ghosts. It slid over the Ponte Vecchio and rolled through the streets of Oltrarno until reaching San Niccolò, where it climbed up the hill swallowing everything it found in its path.When it reached the gate of San Miniato, it slipped through the bars and climbed up the stairs until it covered, like a high luminous tide, the entire square in front of the church. It climbed up the marble facade and wrapped also the Cimitero delle Porte Sante, covering the entire hill in a cloak of mystery. Then slowly, as if by enchantment, the fog began to dissolve rising toward the sky and when the last cloud melted into the night air, the square was no longer empty.Small jack-o'-lanterns with flickering lights floated in the air smiling with teeth of fire. Black candles sprouted from nowhere, illuminating spectral stalls full of everything and nothing. Bats that seemed made of paper but were alive fluttered among the lights with wings of black velvet, while autumn leaves danced without wind, sparkling with gold and copper. Pumpkins of every shape filled the stands, some carved with funny faces, others covered with silver spiderwebs that shone like threads of moon. Witch hats swirled in the air like flying umbrellas rotating slow on themselves. Roasted chestnuts perfumed the air with cinnamon and mystery, while small dancing skeletons tinkled like ice bells.And finally in the Cimitero delle Porte Sante, the Portal opened. Like every Halloween, for centuries, spirits from all over the world congregated in Florence for their annual meeting. A spectral river of ghosts poured into the square, each heading toward their own stall, and each with their impossible merchandise to sell or trade. The spirits had arrived and Severino observed them from above. A carnival of other worlds, made of sounds, colors and unimaginable stories.The deserted square had transformed into the Market of Ghosts. Stalls kept materializing from nowhere, carved and glowing pumpkins told each other stories of Halloweens past, present and future laughing malicious among the perfumes of lost memories, past centuries, tomorrow's candles and fallen stardust. The sky above the Tuscan hills and above Florence was full of ghosts arriving from everywhere to search for the unfindable. But no human eye could see this spectacle. No one except Severino, who descended from the tower enchanted by that spectacle and immersed himself in the crowd pulsating with otherworldly life. Seven circled above him observing with attentive eyes and cawing a bit nervous. Some ghosts looked at him with curiosity and recognized him. Someone greeted him and many others whispered his name in forgotten languages."There he is," murmured a witch from Prague."The child of time," sighed a Norman knight."He's returned, I told you so." laughed a Caribbean pirate.But Severino paid them no attention because there were ghosts selling: dreams of sleeping dragons, laughter of northern gnomes, tears of mermaids in love, the last breath of dinosaurs, shadows of unicorns. And even fears from past Halloweens — two for the price of one, but only for tonight. The ghost of a pirate who died during a boarding gone not so well shouted: "Storm bottles! Lightning in jars!" A witch from Salem whispered: "Love potions that last three lifetimes…" A medieval knight showed swords that cut fear, A Chinese spirit waved kites that fly into the past.The spectral crowd grew and thickened, laughed and bargained, while Severino walked amazed and fascinated among the impossible stalls of the Halloween Market. Seven cawed restless from above and Eleven, the black cat with orange eyes, jumped from one tent to another not losing sight of a single movement of Severino and the hundreds of souls circling around him.A ghost monk from an era that never existed saw him and smiled at him from behind a stall full of ancient radios adorned with mysterious symbols. Severino approached, fascinated."How wonderful! Do they all work?""Oh yes, certainly" replied the monk. "These transmit on the waves of past, present, and future time. But you don't need to buy one."The other ghosts stopped. They ceased selling, buying and bartering. They looked at Severino with respect and listened to what the collector of frequencies told him."The transistor radio you already have is more special than you think. But to discover its true secrets, you'll have to search in the ancient crypts where everything began."And suddenly the first lights of dawn began to illuminate the sky behind San Miniato with pink. In rush and hurry the ghosts said goodbye flying away in the wind. "Until next Halloween!" They told each other crossing in the sky. The stalls vanished. Lanterns and candles went out. The Market of Ghosts dissolved like a dream.Severino found himself alone in the empty square, Seven on his shoulder and Eleven sitting on the low wallLooking at Florence illuminating itself in the day of All Saints. He observed his old radio with new eyes and from the ancient crypts of San Miniato, something seemed to call him. He turned it on, turned up the volume and descended the stairway in time to Chet Baker's version of 'Autumn Leaves'.It was time to throw open the gate of the Basilica of San Miniato al Monte.___________________We will continue this story.... For now a Happy Halloween to all of you, may you always believe in magic!Story written by Marco Ciappelli for "Stories Under The Stars" Halloween 2025___________________Listen to Severino's Playlist for the songs that accompany this story and subscribe to discover new music with every adventure.
In this episode, Dustin Galyon shares a real-world coaching moment involving a senior student-athlete who skipped a team workout and responded with uncharacteristic defiance. Instead of reacting with discipline alone, Dustin leaned on years of relationship-building to have a direct, honest conversation—one that ultimately deepened trust and ended with mutual respect.The conversation explores how coaching has changed over the past decade, why relationships matter more than ever, and how today's coaches can lead with both accountability and empathy. It's a reminder that the best coaching happens when leaders stay connected, even in tough moments.Brought to You By:The Impactful Coaching Project helps coaches lead today's athletes with a more holistic approach to leadership. ICP offers training, tools, and research-backed resources that connect mental, emotional, and physical health to strong team performance. Learn how to build healthy, competitive team cultures at impactfulcoachingproject.com.
This is the first time we've had a high schooler on the podcast! Maizie Koentopp, a 9th grader in Chicago, conducted a simple yet elegant experiment on buckwheat plants. Motivated by her father's urban farming work and her own concern about climate change, Maizie wanted to test the effect of endophytic bacteria on plant development as an alternative to harmful agrochemicals. She compared seeds inoculated with AEA's BioCoat Gold™ to a non-inoculated control, and found that inoculated seeds (in both sterilized and non-sterilized soil) grew faster, had higher survival rates, and developed more root hairs. If others in Maizie's generation share her curiosity, poise, and scientific rigor, then our future is in good hands." Additional Resources To read more about her research, click here. About John Kempf John Kempf is the founder of Advancing Eco Agriculture (AEA). A top expert in biological and regenerative farming, John founded AEA in 2006 to help fellow farmers by providing the education, tools, and strategies that will have a global effect on the food supply and those who grow it. Through intense study and the knowledge gleaned from many industry leaders, John is building a comprehensive systems-based approach to plant nutrition – a system solidly based on the sciences of plant physiology, mineral nutrition, and soil microbiology. Support For This Show & Helping You Grow Since 2006, AEA has been on a mission to help growers become more resilient, efficient, and profitable with regenerative agriculture. AEA works directly with growers to apply its unique line of liquid mineral crop nutrition products and biological inoculants. Informed by cutting-edge plant and soil data-gathering techniques, AEA's science-based programs empower farm operations to meet the crop quality markers that matter the most. AEA has created real and lasting change on millions of acres with its products and data-driven services by working hand-in-hand with growers to produce healthier soil, stronger crops, and higher profits. Beyond working on the ground with growers, AEA leads in regenerative agriculture media and education, producing and distributing the popular and highly-regarded Regenerative Agriculture Podcast, inspiring webinars, and other educational content that serve as go-to resources for growers worldwide. Learn more about AEA's regenerative programs and products: https://www.advancingecoag.com
A Mystery in FlorenceIn Tuscany there is so much magic: hills decorated with olive trees, vineyards and cypresses, bell towers ringing everywhere, hidden gardens, and of course enchanted cities, full of history and beauty, where famous artists have created marvellous works of art.In this tale we find ourselves in the city of Florence, where magic abounds and legends hide in every corner.A river called the Arno runs through it; and amongst the many bridges there is one that quite rightly is a bit more famous than the others: the Ponte Vecchio. In those suspended houses no one lives anymore. Every day it is full of tourists who photograph it and come to visit from all over the world, but many, many years ago on this bridge there were butchers, fishmongers and tanners as if it were a market, a square suspended over the Arno and daily life was very different from today.At the time of this story the shops were all jewellery stores owned by master goldsmiths, who lived there, worked and sold gold jewellery and precious items of the highest quality. It was one of the hearts of the city where the Florentines of the time would meet and stop to chat whilst they came and went from one side of the river to the other. Even the children spent their days having fun playing and running from one side to the other undisturbed.At this point you must know that for some days small thefts had been occurring in the artisans' shops. Gold and precious items disappeared as if stolen by the wind, silently and by surprise, without leaving a trace. Who knows who knows? Who could be the culprit?The goldsmiths gathered together, after closing their shops, right there on the bridge."But what on earth is happening?" said one."Well, if only we knew..." said another."And we can't go on like this, looking like fools!"Bernardo, one of the goldsmiths, said: "Granted I'm a bit absent-minded, but I'm certainly not blind enough not to see if gold is missing from my shop."And off they went asking questions and interrogating each other to try to find an explanation for these thefts, discover the thief and perhaps recover what was stolen.In short, it had been weeks now that gold filings from the working of gold and various precious objects had been disappearing from the shops — and all this was happening under everyone's eyes but no one had seen anything.Who to blame if not those mischievous rascals who enjoyed playing football on the bridge! Between little matches, laughter, running, various games and hide-and-seek, who knows if one of them hadn't started stealing here and there.More days passed and more gold had vanished into thin air. The goldsmiths, tired of this business, came out onto the bridge and shouted loudly all together: "Now we've really had enough and it's time to put an end to it! Let's catch the thief!"Even Giulio the baker came out to the doorway of his shop, on the left, at the end of the bridge, and although he hadn't understood precisely what was happening, he showed everyone his flour-covered hands shouting: "I've got nothing to do with it, I swear! My hands are covered in dough only because I'm always preparing focaccia to bake in the oven."And saying this he joined the others shouting: "Let's catch the thief red-handed before that sack becomes one of flour!"In that commotion, Lapo, a very clever and curious boy, son of the goldsmith Bernardo who was friends with everyone and played together with the other children on the bridge, after reflecting thought: "There's something that doesn't add up: we children don't steal, whose fault can it be?"So Lapo decided to investigate on his own. Because as his grandfather always told him: "one thing done is worth more than a hundred to do" and then he would add that "if you do it yourself you do for three."So, without much ado, the following evening he organised himself, getting hold of a magnifying glass, a notebook with pencil to take notes and a lantern that would accompany him in the dark. The latter he held tight with a slightly trembling hand, but there was no hesitation — the situation wouldn't resolve itself.At dusk, he set off from the Ponte Vecchio, where he lived with his father above the shop, towards the column in Piazza Santa Trinità.Up there was, and still is, the Statue of Justice that towered so high as to touch the sky. The journey wasn't long, but that evening it took him longer than usual, because he observed everything with attention and curiosity. He looked right, left, in the narrow streets, beyond the parapet of the Lungarno and if he saw a stone he moved that too: "you never know where you might find clues" he thought.He had heard it said that the column and the statue of Justice were magical and full of secrets. But the most amazing thing was that from its summit, where indeed the statue stood, one could see what was happening at every point in the city — as we know justice sees and knows everything.Having arrived in Piazza Santa Trinita, he gave a great sigh, took one last step and at the foot of the column — what a surprise... he met a snail."A snail?" you will say. "Eh, exactly a snail complete with house on its shoulders, with lights on at the windows and a fireplace lit" Really, I tell you... Believe it... In short it was there, moving, slowly yes, but determined. When it heard the light step of the unexpected visitor, it became suspicious and withdrawing its antennae as if they were brakes, it stopped dead and said:"Halt! Who goes there? But who are you and where are you going? You're not looking for trouble, are you, wandering about all alone at this twilight hour?""No, what trouble... quite the opposite Mrs Snail" replied Lapo, "I should go to the top of the column to see what's happening on the Ponte Vecchio. There are things that don't quite add up and I'm investigating. As you can see I even have the magnifying glass and hat!" Said Lapo showing the objects to avoid misunderstandings. "Now, since you seem to be from around here, you wouldn't happen to know how I can get up there?"The snail who lived at the foot of the column and was to all intents and purposes its guardian, huffed but then smiled and showed Lapo a small door at the foot of the column, hidden by ivy."Dearest Lapo," she said adjusting her spectacles "you seem like a brave boy, a true friend and also a good investigator, but only from the top of the column will you be able to know the truth."Having said this, the snail rubbed her tentacles and they began to shine with a magical light that enveloped Lapo making him become the height of the door which opened with a great creak; so sharp as to make all the birds that were hanging about in the night fly away.Lapo, now very small, thanked the snail and without fear entered inside the column. In the darkness, he was impressed by a narrow and high well that went up instead of down. On the gleaming walls there was a spiral of tiny steps that he began to climb with determination with the lit lantern held tight in his hand. He reached the top.In the night the starry sky illuminated the Statue of Justice that towered over Florence. It had a scale with two balanced plates in one hand and a golden sword in the other.As we said previously, by enchantment, from there one could see the whole city — one just had to look in the right direction and think of the part of Florence you wanted to see: an incredible magic for a breathtaking view.Now was the moment to concentrate on the Ponte Vecchio and try to solve the mystery of the thefts, but whilst moving around the statue, to go to the side that looked towards the river, he made an incredible discovery. He couldn't believe his own eyes — so much so that he took out the magnifying glass to be sure. Both plates of the scale were full of gold filings and precious trinkets."Good heavens! And how did this stuff get up here?" Exclaimed Lapo with wide eyes. "This is undoubtedly the loot from the thefts at the jewellery shops!"At first, confused and amazed he didn't know what to think, but then, observing the filings more carefully he realised they were all woven together with bracelets and necklaces: these were two nests and an idea immediately flashed into his mind."The thieving magpies!" Exclaimed Lapo. Those crafty birds love everything that glitters, it must certainly have been them who robbed the shops and brought the stolen goods up here.And in the middle of this thought, suddenly they appeared in flight. They landed on the column agitated and furious "KRAA KRAA KRAA! Oh, little boy but what are you doing at our home? Don't you even dare touch these glittering marvels; they are our nest, we found them and they are ours."Lapo didn't let himself be frightened and calmly replied: "But what are you saying? You like glittering things that shine and you take them, but that certainly doesn't mean they are yours."The magpies were all chattering together they seemed to have gone mad and knew no reason. "But what is this one saying?" Said one. "Right, someone comes to our home and expects to give orders?" Added another. "Yes, nice joke. They're not ours? But are you a comedian? Change job, look, because you don't make us laugh." Said another.And all of them laughing.At which Lapo didn't let himself be intimidated. He rummaged in his pocket and found what he was looking for. He proposed an exchange. "What if we made a deal. To tell the truth I lose out quite a bit, but I like you so much that I would gladly give you these beautiful shiny marbles in exchange for the gold and trinkets."Seeing those small brilliant and colourful treasures, which they had never seen before, the magpies calmed down. They looked at each other with a crafty look and without hesitation... "Deal!"They took the marbles from his hand in a flash and flew away shouting: "Hooray, we're rich! From now on we'll collect these little balls."Sighing with relief and satisfaction, Lapo recovered the stolen goods and rushed down from the column. The snail was waiting for him applauding. With another spell she made him come out of the little door and appear right on the Ponte Vecchio where several Florentines were taking the evening air and chatting — including the goldsmiths."Papa, papa I've discovered the mystery and found the culprit, it was the thieving magpies! My friends didn't do anything wrong." "Calm down son, I'm listening". Replied Bernardo.Lapo with all the breath he had in his throat didn't waste a moment and told everything he had discovered and seen: the investigator's hat, the magnifying glass, the magical snail who knew the secrets of the column, the little door, the statue at the top, the view of Florence, the thieving magpies and the trick with the coloured marbles. Finally the mystery of the strange thefts was clarified, all the recovered stolen goods were returned to the goldsmiths of the Ponte Vecchio thanks to the enterprising and brave Lapo.At that point everyone who was on the Ponte Vecchio applauded shouting: "hooray, hooray, hooray, for the little investigator."Whilst the ancient bridge, perhaps enchanted, gleamed with golden lights.Giulio the baker whilst putting focaccia in the oven, sang merrily and with a ringing voice announced: "today focaccia for everyone free of charge, we must celebrate!"The thieving magpies returned to flying; they continued to find small objects and even pieces of glittering dreams; and chattering they said: "It may well be that we've lost a nest, but we've certainly found a story to tell."And perhaps, who knows, there will be a new story!— Written by Lucia & Marco Ciappelli [Inspired by a Florentine legend] Hosted by Simplecast, an AdsWizz company. See pcm.adswizz.com for information about our collection and use of personal data for advertising.
A Mystery in FlorenceIn Tuscany there is so much magic: hills decorated with olive trees, vineyards and cypresses, bell towers ringing everywhere, hidden gardens, and of course enchanted cities, full of history and beauty, where famous artists have created marvellous works of art.In this tale we find ourselves in the city of Florence, where magic abounds and legends hide in every corner.A river called the Arno runs through it; and amongst the many bridges there is one that quite rightly is a bit more famous than the others: the Ponte Vecchio. In those suspended houses no one lives anymore. Every day it is full of tourists who photograph it and come to visit from all over the world, but many, many years ago on this bridge there were butchers, fishmongers and tanners as if it were a market, a square suspended over the Arno and daily life was very different from today.At the time of this story the shops were all jewellery stores owned by master goldsmiths, who lived there, worked and sold gold jewellery and precious items of the highest quality. It was one of the hearts of the city where the Florentines of the time would meet and stop to chat whilst they came and went from one side of the river to the other. Even the children spent their days having fun playing and running from one side to the other undisturbed.At this point you must know that for some days small thefts had been occurring in the artisans' shops. Gold and precious items disappeared as if stolen by the wind, silently and by surprise, without leaving a trace. Who knows who knows? Who could be the culprit?The goldsmiths gathered together, after closing their shops, right there on the bridge."But what on earth is happening?" said one."Well, if only we knew..." said another."And we can't go on like this, looking like fools!"Bernardo, one of the goldsmiths, said: "Granted I'm a bit absent-minded, but I'm certainly not blind enough not to see if gold is missing from my shop."And off they went asking questions and interrogating each other to try to find an explanation for these thefts, discover the thief and perhaps recover what was stolen.In short, it had been weeks now that gold filings from the working of gold and various precious objects had been disappearing from the shops — and all this was happening under everyone's eyes but no one had seen anything.Who to blame if not those mischievous rascals who enjoyed playing football on the bridge! Between little matches, laughter, running, various games and hide-and-seek, who knows if one of them hadn't started stealing here and there.More days passed and more gold had vanished into thin air. The goldsmiths, tired of this business, came out onto the bridge and shouted loudly all together: "Now we've really had enough and it's time to put an end to it! Let's catch the thief!"Even Giulio the baker came out to the doorway of his shop, on the left, at the end of the bridge, and although he hadn't understood precisely what was happening, he showed everyone his flour-covered hands shouting: "I've got nothing to do with it, I swear! My hands are covered in dough only because I'm always preparing focaccia to bake in the oven."And saying this he joined the others shouting: "Let's catch the thief red-handed before that sack becomes one of flour!"In that commotion, Lapo, a very clever and curious boy, son of the goldsmith Bernardo who was friends with everyone and played together with the other children on the bridge, after reflecting thought: "There's something that doesn't add up: we children don't steal, whose fault can it be?"So Lapo decided to investigate on his own. Because as his grandfather always told him: "one thing done is worth more than a hundred to do" and then he would add that "if you do it yourself you do for three."So, without much ado, the following evening he organised himself, getting hold of a magnifying glass, a notebook with pencil to take notes and a lantern that would accompany him in the dark. The latter he held tight with a slightly trembling hand, but there was no hesitation — the situation wouldn't resolve itself.At dusk, he set off from the Ponte Vecchio, where he lived with his father above the shop, towards the column in Piazza Santa Trinità.Up there was, and still is, the Statue of Justice that towered so high as to touch the sky. The journey wasn't long, but that evening it took him longer than usual, because he observed everything with attention and curiosity. He looked right, left, in the narrow streets, beyond the parapet of the Lungarno and if he saw a stone he moved that too: "you never know where you might find clues" he thought.He had heard it said that the column and the statue of Justice were magical and full of secrets. But the most amazing thing was that from its summit, where indeed the statue stood, one could see what was happening at every point in the city — as we know justice sees and knows everything.Having arrived in Piazza Santa Trinita, he gave a great sigh, took one last step and at the foot of the column — what a surprise... he met a snail."A snail?" you will say. "Eh, exactly a snail complete with house on its shoulders, with lights on at the windows and a fireplace lit" Really, I tell you... Believe it... In short it was there, moving, slowly yes, but determined. When it heard the light step of the unexpected visitor, it became suspicious and withdrawing its antennae as if they were brakes, it stopped dead and said:"Halt! Who goes there? But who are you and where are you going? You're not looking for trouble, are you, wandering about all alone at this twilight hour?""No, what trouble... quite the opposite Mrs Snail" replied Lapo, "I should go to the top of the column to see what's happening on the Ponte Vecchio. There are things that don't quite add up and I'm investigating. As you can see I even have the magnifying glass and hat!" Said Lapo showing the objects to avoid misunderstandings. "Now, since you seem to be from around here, you wouldn't happen to know how I can get up there?"The snail who lived at the foot of the column and was to all intents and purposes its guardian, huffed but then smiled and showed Lapo a small door at the foot of the column, hidden by ivy."Dearest Lapo," she said adjusting her spectacles "you seem like a brave boy, a true friend and also a good investigator, but only from the top of the column will you be able to know the truth."Having said this, the snail rubbed her tentacles and they began to shine with a magical light that enveloped Lapo making him become the height of the door which opened with a great creak; so sharp as to make all the birds that were hanging about in the night fly away.Lapo, now very small, thanked the snail and without fear entered inside the column. In the darkness, he was impressed by a narrow and high well that went up instead of down. On the gleaming walls there was a spiral of tiny steps that he began to climb with determination with the lit lantern held tight in his hand. He reached the top.In the night the starry sky illuminated the Statue of Justice that towered over Florence. It had a scale with two balanced plates in one hand and a golden sword in the other.As we said previously, by enchantment, from there one could see the whole city — one just had to look in the right direction and think of the part of Florence you wanted to see: an incredible magic for a breathtaking view.Now was the moment to concentrate on the Ponte Vecchio and try to solve the mystery of the thefts, but whilst moving around the statue, to go to the side that looked towards the river, he made an incredible discovery. He couldn't believe his own eyes — so much so that he took out the magnifying glass to be sure. Both plates of the scale were full of gold filings and precious trinkets."Good heavens! And how did this stuff get up here?" Exclaimed Lapo with wide eyes. "This is undoubtedly the loot from the thefts at the jewellery shops!"At first, confused and amazed he didn't know what to think, but then, observing the filings more carefully he realised they were all woven together with bracelets and necklaces: these were two nests and an idea immediately flashed into his mind."The thieving magpies!" Exclaimed Lapo. Those crafty birds love everything that glitters, it must certainly have been them who robbed the shops and brought the stolen goods up here.And in the middle of this thought, suddenly they appeared in flight. They landed on the column agitated and furious "KRAA KRAA KRAA! Oh, little boy but what are you doing at our home? Don't you even dare touch these glittering marvels; they are our nest, we found them and they are ours."Lapo didn't let himself be frightened and calmly replied: "But what are you saying? You like glittering things that shine and you take them, but that certainly doesn't mean they are yours."The magpies were all chattering together they seemed to have gone mad and knew no reason. "But what is this one saying?" Said one. "Right, someone comes to our home and expects to give orders?" Added another. "Yes, nice joke. They're not ours? But are you a comedian? Change job, look, because you don't make us laugh." Said another.And all of them laughing.At which Lapo didn't let himself be intimidated. He rummaged in his pocket and found what he was looking for. He proposed an exchange. "What if we made a deal. To tell the truth I lose out quite a bit, but I like you so much that I would gladly give you these beautiful shiny marbles in exchange for the gold and trinkets."Seeing those small brilliant and colourful treasures, which they had never seen before, the magpies calmed down. They looked at each other with a crafty look and without hesitation... "Deal!"They took the marbles from his hand in a flash and flew away shouting: "Hooray, we're rich! From now on we'll collect these little balls."Sighing with relief and satisfaction, Lapo recovered the stolen goods and rushed down from the column. The snail was waiting for him applauding. With another spell she made him come out of the little door and appear right on the Ponte Vecchio where several Florentines were taking the evening air and chatting — including the goldsmiths."Papa, papa I've discovered the mystery and found the culprit, it was the thieving magpies! My friends didn't do anything wrong." "Calm down son, I'm listening". Replied Bernardo.Lapo with all the breath he had in his throat didn't waste a moment and told everything he had discovered and seen: the investigator's hat, the magnifying glass, the magical snail who knew the secrets of the column, the little door, the statue at the top, the view of Florence, the thieving magpies and the trick with the coloured marbles. Finally the mystery of the strange thefts was clarified, all the recovered stolen goods were returned to the goldsmiths of the Ponte Vecchio thanks to the enterprising and brave Lapo.At that point everyone who was on the Ponte Vecchio applauded shouting: "hooray, hooray, hooray, for the little investigator."Whilst the ancient bridge, perhaps enchanted, gleamed with golden lights.Giulio the baker whilst putting focaccia in the oven, sang merrily and with a ringing voice announced: "today focaccia for everyone free of charge, we must celebrate!"The thieving magpies returned to flying; they continued to find small objects and even pieces of glittering dreams; and chattering they said: "It may well be that we've lost a nest, but we've certainly found a story to tell."And perhaps, who knows, there will be a new story!— Written by Lucia & Marco Ciappelli [Inspired by a Florentine legend] Each story is currently written and narrated in both Italian and English.The translation from Italian (the original language) to English and the reading of the stories are performed using Generative Artificial Intelligence — which perhaps has a touch of magic... We hope it has done a good job!If you like it, make sure to tell your friends, family, and teachers, and subscribe to this podcast to stay updated. You'll be able to read or listen to new stories as soon as they become available. Visit us On The Official Website https://www.storiesottolestelle.com/ Hosted by Simplecast, an AdsWizz company. See pcm.adswizz.com for information about our collection and use of personal data for advertising.
Estonia, Latvia and Lithuania broke free from Soviet occupation and repelled invading Soviet tanks -- with a Singing Revolution! Barbara Leger with her Resilience in a Rucksack and other programs helps students and teachers in Ukraine harness their Love Power to build resilience and courage to persevere despite Russian bombing. In this short clip, she discusses her experiences in Estonia and brainstorms with Arthur about whether a Singing Revolution might be a way to empower people to occupy back US cities from military occupation. Barbara founded GoldenPathOfPeace.org, Temenos and We Stand for the Future – organized to cultivate a possibility mindset in Ukraine.See the video and ask questions of future guests at: theworldismycountry.com/club Music by: „World Citizen“ Jahcoustix feat. Shaggy, courtesy of Dominik Haas, Telefonica and EoM Check out the film on World Citizen #1 Garry Davis: theworldismycountry.com Endorse the ban on Nuclear Weapons: theworldismycountry.com/endorse
In this podcast short, Ashea narrates an article by Luke Goddard about the importance of getting a second opinion, even when ‘solo mastering'.Read The Article Here:https://www.production-expert.com/production-expert-1/self-mastering-doesnt-have-to-mean-solo-mastering
In this podcast short, Ashea narrates an article by Russ Hughes about the dangers of saying yes to everything. Read Along With The Article:https://www.production-expert.com/production-expert-1/drowning-in-ideas-how-audio-pros-can-learn-to-say-no
In this Podcast Short, John Kempf announces the launch of FieldLark, an AI agronomist chatbot designed to democratize regenerative agriculture knowledge, which provides first-principles, thinking-based recommendations on how to solve agronomic challenges. FieldLark empowers farmers with accessible, expert-level insights to optimize crop and soil health. In this episode, John covers: FieldLark's public launch as a specialized AI trained on agronomic and adjacent discipline data. The complexity of regenerative agronomy, emphasizing biology alongside chemistry. The integration of soil, sap, and microbiome analyses to predict and enhance crop health. The future development of an algorithmic engine for consistent, context-specific recommendations. The importance of combining human intuition with AI's data-processing strengths. The vision for technology to enhance, not replace, farmers' connection to the landscape. Additional Resources To sign up for FieldLark, please visit: https://fieldlark.ai/ About John Kempf John Kempf is the founder of Advancing Eco Agriculture (AEA). A top expert in biological and regenerative farming, John founded AEA in 2006 to help fellow farmers by providing the education, tools, and strategies that will have a global effect on the food supply and those who grow it. Through intense study and the knowledge gleaned from many industry leaders, John is building a comprehensive systems-based approach to plant nutrition – a system solidly based on the sciences of plant physiology, mineral nutrition, and soil microbiology. Support For This Show & Helping You Grow Since 2006, AEA has been on a mission to help growers become more resilient, efficient, and profitable with regenerative agriculture. AEA works directly with growers to apply its unique line of liquid mineral crop nutrition products and biological inoculants. Informed by cutting-edge plant and soil data-gathering techniques, AEA's science-based programs empower farm operations to meet the crop quality markers that matter the most. AEA has created real and lasting change on millions of acres with its products and data-driven services by working hand-in-hand with growers to produce healthier soil, stronger crops, and higher profits. Beyond working on the ground with growers, AEA leads in regenerative agriculture media and education, producing and distributing the popular and highly-regarded Regenerative Agriculture Podcast, inspiring webinars, and other educational content that serve as go-to resources for growers worldwide. Learn more about AEA's regenerative programs and products: https://www.advancingecoag.com
FORBIX — THE HAIRDRESSER WITH AN ARTIST'S TOUCHIn the heart of the town of Tagliaspunta, nestled among shops of all kinds, there's a hairdresser named Forbix, for women, men, teenagers, and children — though not too little. Forbix is no ordinary hairdresser: he has the magical touch of an artist. His scissors are made of silver and, as they cut, they whisper stories. His ivory comb makes hair shine, and his hairdryer doesn't blow air — it blows dreams.At his cutting station, he becomes a magician: the scissors, guided by his hand, flutter through the hair and, touch after touch — voilà! — the result is perfect.One day, the tree standing in front of his shop said to Forbix:“You are an artist, and I'm tired of my tangled mop of leaves. I'd love a little makeover,” it sighed, “and I'd make a great advertisement for you.”The hairdresser didn't need to be asked twice: he stepped outside with his enchanted scissors.Circling the tree with the flair of a genius, after a few confident snips, he trimmed the branches and turned the dry leaves into silver confetti that the wind carried away. The tree looked more radiant and alive than it had ever been, with fresh green leaves adorning it like braided ringlets.The next morning, two children — Sara and David — playful as ever, were hopping along the sidewalk when they saw the tree, so elegant and in a good mood, its leaves joyfully whistling.Sara had curls like little summer clouds, and David's hair stuck up like a tiny hedgehog.As they came closer, they asked in unison:“Who's the artist who did all this?”The tree replied: “The hairdresser, Forbix.”“We'd love to go too! Our hair is all messy and really needs a good fix. Our moms have been saying so for quite a while now.”“Well then, you'd better listen to them. Go on, go in,” the tree encouraged them with a whisper.David went in first, tripping over the marble step, followed by Sara who smiled and waved.Forbix, ever observant, welcomed them in and, running his hands through their hair one at a time, slowly began to cut with his magical scissors. The comb gently caressed their hair, which began to shine, and with the blow-dryer, dreams swirled through the air along with whispered stories.Looking at themselves in the mirror, their faces lit up with big smiles, while Forbix, pleased in turn, gave them a wink.Sara and David happily thanked him with a bow and a wave.Out on the sidewalk, they danced in a joyful circle around the tree, on whose branches little songbirds had perched — giving a cheerful concert, along with the leaves and the children.The true magic of Forbix lies not only in the tools of his trade, which he uses with an artist's passion, but also in his ability to listen — and bring a smile.-- Written by Lucia & Marco Ciappelli
FORBIX — THE HAIRDRESSER WITH AN ARTIST'S TOUCHIn the heart of the town of Tagliaspunta, nestled among shops of all kinds, there's a hairdresser named Forbix, for women, men, teenagers, and children — though not too little. Forbix is no ordinary hairdresser: he has the magical touch of an artist. His scissors are made of silver and, as they cut, they whisper stories. His ivory comb makes hair shine, and his hairdryer doesn't blow air — it blows dreams.At his cutting station, he becomes a magician: the scissors, guided by his hand, flutter through the hair and, touch after touch — voilà! — the result is perfect.One day, the tree standing in front of his shop said to Forbix:“You are an artist, and I'm tired of my tangled mop of leaves. I'd love a little makeover,” it sighed, “and I'd make a great advertisement for you.”The hairdresser didn't need to be asked twice: he stepped outside with his enchanted scissors.Circling the tree with the flair of a genius, after a few confident snips, he trimmed the branches and turned the dry leaves into silver confetti that the wind carried away. The tree looked more radiant and alive than it had ever been, with fresh green leaves adorning it like braided ringlets.The next morning, two children — Sara and David — playful as ever, were hopping along the sidewalk when they saw the tree, so elegant and in a good mood, its leaves joyfully whistling.Sara had curls like little summer clouds, and David's hair stuck up like a tiny hedgehog.As they came closer, they asked in unison:“Who's the artist who did all this?”The tree replied: “The hairdresser, Forbix.”“We'd love to go too! Our hair is all messy and really needs a good fix. Our moms have been saying so for quite a while now.”“Well then, you'd better listen to them. Go on, go in,” the tree encouraged them with a whisper.David went in first, tripping over the marble step, followed by Sara who smiled and waved.Forbix, ever observant, welcomed them in and, running his hands through their hair one at a time, slowly began to cut with his magical scissors. The comb gently caressed their hair, which began to shine, and with the blow-dryer, dreams swirled through the air along with whispered stories.Looking at themselves in the mirror, their faces lit up with big smiles, while Forbix, pleased in turn, gave them a wink.Sara and David happily thanked him with a bow and a wave.Out on the sidewalk, they danced in a joyful circle around the tree, on whose branches little songbirds had perched — giving a cheerful concert, along with the leaves and the children.The true magic of Forbix lies not only in the tools of his trade, which he uses with an artist's passion, but also in his ability to listen — and bring a smile.-- Written by Lucia & Marco Ciappelli Each story is currently written and narrated in both Italian and English.The translation from Italian (the original language) to English and the reading of the stories are performed using Generative Artificial Intelligence — which perhaps has a touch of magic... We hope it has done a good job!If you like it, make sure to tell your friends, family, and teachers, and subscribe to this podcast to stay updated. You'll be able to read or listen to new stories as soon as they become available. Visit us On The Official Website https://www.storiesottolestelle.com/
In this podcast short we bring you an informal yet very informative casual chat between Nathaniel Reichman and Mark Donahue of sound mirror on the mysteries of Direct Stream Digital.
This is a really short clip explaining who it is that plays the beautiful Gene Krupa esque drum intro on the podcast. its none other than Homer Steinweiss! check out his incredible discography. www.homersteinweiss.com
The Out of Tune InstrumentsOn the bank of a stream, where a great many colorful little fish swam, lived a small family: mamma, babbo, and their seven children — four boys and three girls. Their house was a bit far from the town of Strumentopoli, but being close to the stream and next to the Great Forest made it a wonderful place to live.Mamma lovingly tended the vegetable garden. Babbo, on the other hand, was a woodworker who crafted musical instruments from the finest trunks, chosen among the sturdiest and most fragrant trees in the forest.The children went to school in the village. In winter, they reached it on skis, while in spring and autumn they rode in a cart pulled by two young deer — one white and one black, like the keys of a piano.Before they left, babbo counted them one by one to make sure no one was missing. Then, as he did every day, he reminded them:“Behave yourselves, don't skip school, and remember the tale of Pinocchio and his nose!”Those words always ended with a smile from everyone.Babbo would then return to his workshop. His instruments were well-made, using excellent materials, but there was one problem: they were out of tune. Still, as a good luthier, he didn't lose heart. His passion for music was so strong that teaching his children to play had become a joy. He even gave them special names: Chitarra, Violino, Oboe, Liuto, Arpa, Bongo, and Ukulele.Mamma didn't object. Of course, naming them after vegetables might have been funny, but their village friends probably would've made fun of them.The children did well in school, and when they came home, they helped mamma in the garden. One day, though, they mistook some nettle plants for lettuce — what a sting! They all ran straight to the stream and jumped in to soothe the burning.The little fish burst into laughter:“You're so silly! Ah ah ah!”Mamma helped them out of the water and, turning to the fish, said:“This evening, at sunset, there will be a concert in our courtyard. My children will perform with their instruments. You're all invited!”The fish replied enthusiastically:“Thanks for the invitation! We'll be there for sure — it's going to rain, and we love splashing! Splich, sploch, splach!”That evening turned out to be a real party. At the concert of slightly strange and delightfully quirky music, everyone had a blast: the musicians, the animals from the forest, and even the fish — who mamma cheerfully sprayed with water.After that joyful evening, life went back to its usual pace: school, garden, and even the forest. In fact, during their free time, the children often helped babbo choose and cut wood to build his instruments.The Great Forest had become familiar to them. So one day, while they were playing there and climbing trees, the kids spotted a group of gnomes huddled together, looking agitated. They quickly hid behind some bushes to observe and listen in on their conversation.The meeting, called in great haste, was to make a decision about an imminent danger. A powerful storm was on the way. They spoke of a hurricane wind that hadn't been seen or heard in a hundred years — or perhaps even longer — and it was heading for the forest.“We must stop it, by any means,” said the gnomes.So they decided to call on an old ally: the Great Warrior of the Mountain, armed with a sword and magical powers. He was the one who, in the past, had already defeated dragons and even extraterrestrials who had tried to conquer Earth.The seven children, alarmed by the news and determined to help in the battle, ran quickly back to the house — also to warn the villagers of the impending danger. Meanwhile, the wind drew closer. You could hear it from afar — wild and howling. As it passed, the trees bent until their tops brushed the ground. Some swayed, others snapped, and a few were completely uprooted.The people of Strumentopoli, who had begun to feel the wind blowing through the village streets and saw the Great Warrior descending the mountain, grew concerned — but they didn't panic. Everyone grabbed their instruments and rushed toward the house by the stream to help the family who lived there, and together try to save the Great Forest.At the same time, the colorful fish arrived — united and determined — along with the other animals of the woods and stream.“All together we can form a barrier and block the wind!” they shouted in unison.At that moment, the children of the family — still out of breath from running — stepped forward and said:“We have our babbo's instruments too. They're strange, a bit out of tune… but if we all play together, maybe we can stop the storm.” And with that, they rushed into the house and came back out in no time at all.The gnomes, fully aware of the instruments' flaws, cast a powerful musical spell. When the children began to play, something magical happened. For the first time, the music was melodious, harmonious, and full of feeling.One by one, all the people of Strumentopoli joined in. Each person, with their own instrument, contributed as if they were all part of one great orchestra.The hurricane wind — engaged in a fierce battle with the Great Warrior of the Mountain — heard the music from afar and immediately began to calm. Its howling softened, and by the time it reached the forest, it had become a cool mountain gust, and finally… a gentle valley breeze.The wind had become part of that marvelous orchestra — the battle was won thanks to everyone. Each had offered their own music and helped bring about the victory.“United we are strong,” they all said proudly.The babbo luthier continued building instruments with the finest wood the forest had to offer. They were so beautiful and sounded so good that people said they were the most melodic ever heard.The children — Chitarra, Violino, Oboe, Liuto, Arpa, Bongo, and Ukulele — joined the village band. At every festival, they played with great success, cheered on by applause and warm smiles. Even the gnomes and the Great Warrior listened to their music… from the forest and the mountain.The colorful fish swam and danced happily in the stream, and when someone passed by, they greeted them with joyful splashes.The family continued to live near the Great Forest, and on summer evenings, when everything finally grew quiet, they would lie along the stream and watch the stars above. Their hearts would tell stories… and the night would write the happy ending of every tale.
The Out of Tune InstrumentsOn the bank of a stream, where a great many colorful little fish swam, lived a small family: mamma, babbo, and their seven children — four boys and three girls. Their house was a bit far from the town of Strumentopoli, but being close to the stream and next to the Great Forest made it a wonderful place to live.Mamma lovingly tended the vegetable garden. Babbo, on the other hand, was a woodworker who crafted musical instruments from the finest trunks, chosen among the sturdiest and most fragrant trees in the forest.The children went to school in the village. In winter, they reached it on skis, while in spring and autumn they rode in a cart pulled by two young deer — one white and one black, like the keys of a piano.Before they left, babbo counted them one by one to make sure no one was missing. Then, as he did every day, he reminded them:“Behave yourselves, don't skip school, and remember the tale of Pinocchio and his nose!”Those words always ended with a smile from everyone.Babbo would then return to his workshop. His instruments were well-made, using excellent materials, but there was one problem: they were out of tune. Still, as a good luthier, he didn't lose heart. His passion for music was so strong that teaching his children to play had become a joy. He even gave them special names: Chitarra, Violino, Oboe, Liuto, Arpa, Bongo, and Ukulele.Mamma didn't object. Of course, naming them after vegetables might have been funny, but their village friends probably would've made fun of them.The children did well in school, and when they came home, they helped mamma in the garden. One day, though, they mistook some nettle plants for lettuce — what a sting! They all ran straight to the stream and jumped in to soothe the burning.The little fish burst into laughter:“You're so silly! Ah ah ah!”Mamma helped them out of the water and, turning to the fish, said:“This evening, at sunset, there will be a concert in our courtyard. My children will perform with their instruments. You're all invited!”The fish replied enthusiastically:“Thanks for the invitation! We'll be there for sure — it's going to rain, and we love splashing! Splich, sploch, splach!”That evening turned out to be a real party. At the concert of slightly strange and delightfully quirky music, everyone had a blast: the musicians, the animals from the forest, and even the fish — who mamma cheerfully sprayed with water.After that joyful evening, life went back to its usual pace: school, garden, and even the forest. In fact, during their free time, the children often helped babbo choose and cut wood to build his instruments.The Great Forest had become familiar to them. So one day, while they were playing there and climbing trees, the kids spotted a group of gnomes huddled together, looking agitated. They quickly hid behind some bushes to observe and listen in on their conversation.The meeting, called in great haste, was to make a decision about an imminent danger. A powerful storm was on the way. They spoke of a hurricane wind that hadn't been seen or heard in a hundred years — or perhaps even longer — and it was heading for the forest.“We must stop it, by any means,” said the gnomes.So they decided to call on an old ally: the Great Warrior of the Mountain, armed with a sword and magical powers. He was the one who, in the past, had already defeated dragons and even extraterrestrials who had tried to conquer Earth.The seven children, alarmed by the news and determined to help in the battle, ran quickly back to the house — also to warn the villagers of the impending danger. Meanwhile, the wind drew closer. You could hear it from afar — wild and howling. As it passed, the trees bent until their tops brushed the ground. Some swayed, others snapped, and a few were completely uprooted.The people of Strumentopoli, who had begun to feel the wind blowing through the village streets and saw the Great Warrior descending the mountain, grew concerned — but they didn't panic. Everyone grabbed their instruments and rushed toward the house by the stream to help the family who lived there, and together try to save the Great Forest.At the same time, the colorful fish arrived — united and determined — along with the other animals of the woods and stream.“All together we can form a barrier and block the wind!” they shouted in unison.At that moment, the children of the family — still out of breath from running — stepped forward and said:“We have our babbo's instruments too. They're strange, a bit out of tune… but if we all play together, maybe we can stop the storm.” And with that, they rushed into the house and came back out in no time at all.The gnomes, fully aware of the instruments' flaws, cast a powerful musical spell. When the children began to play, something magical happened. For the first time, the music was melodious, harmonious, and full of feeling.One by one, all the people of Strumentopoli joined in. Each person, with their own instrument, contributed as if they were all part of one great orchestra.The hurricane wind — engaged in a fierce battle with the Great Warrior of the Mountain — heard the music from afar and immediately began to calm. Its howling softened, and by the time it reached the forest, it had become a cool mountain gust, and finally… a gentle valley breeze.The wind had become part of that marvelous orchestra — the battle was won thanks to everyone. Each had offered their own music and helped bring about the victory.“United we are strong,” they all said proudly.The babbo luthier continued building instruments with the finest wood the forest had to offer. They were so beautiful and sounded so good that people said they were the most melodic ever heard.The children — Chitarra, Violino, Oboe, Liuto, Arpa, Bongo, and Ukulele — joined the village band. At every festival, they played with great success, cheered on by applause and warm smiles. Even the gnomes and the Great Warrior listened to their music… from the forest and the mountain.The colorful fish swam and danced happily in the stream, and when someone passed by, they greeted them with joyful splashes.The family continued to live near the Great Forest, and on summer evenings, when everything finally grew quiet, they would lie along the stream and watch the stars above. Their hearts would tell stories… and the night would write the happy ending of every tale.-- Written by Lucia & Marco Ciappelli Each story is currently written and narrated in both Italian and English.The translation from Italian (the original language) to English and the reading of the stories are performed using Generative Artificial Intelligence — which perhaps has a touch of magic... We hope it has done a good job!If you like it, make sure to tell your friends, family, and teachers, and subscribe to this podcast to stay updated. You'll be able to read or listen to new stories as soon as they become available. Visit us On The Official Website https://www.storiesottolestelle.com/
Curious what not to do when asking for career advice? In this behind-the-scenes glimpse into the world of humor keynotes and professional speaking, veteran keynote speaker Jan McInnis shares a wild ride of missteps, missed calls, and misplaced expectations—all sparked by a surprise request from an old comedy colleague. It's a true tale filled with lessons on timing, tact, and how not to burn bridges before you've even crossed them. https://www.TheWorkLady.com Jan McInnis is a top change management keynote speaker and comedian. She uses short funny stories to emphasize her tips on how businesses can use humor to handle change. Jan is a top conference keynote speaker, comedian, Master of Ceremonies, and comedy writer. She has written for Jay Leno's The Tonight Show monologues as well as many other people, places, and groups—radio, TV, syndicated cartoon strips, guests on The Jerry Springer Show (her parents are proud). For over 25 years, she's traveled the country as a keynote speaker and comedian, sharing her unique and practical tips on how to use humor in business (yes, it's a business skill!). She's been featured in The Huffington Post, The Wall Street Journal, and The Washington Post for her clean humor, and she's the author of two books: Finding the Funny Fast – How to Create Quick Humor to Connect with Clients, Coworkers, and Crowds, and Convention Comedian: Stories and Wisdom From Two Decades of Chicken Dinners and Comedy Clubs. She also has a popular podcast titled Comedian Stories: Tales From the Road in Under 5 Minutes. In her former life, she was a marketing executive in Washington, D.C. for national non-profits, and she received the Greater Washington Society of Association Executives “Excellence in Education” Award. Jan's been featured at thousands of events from the Federal Reserve Banks to the Mayo Clinic. https://www.TheWorkLady.com https://youtu.be/BtjxzDn-QLE https://www.linkedin.com/in/janmcinnis https://twitter.com/janmcinnis https://www.pinterest.com/janmcinnis/pins/ https://www.youtube.com/c/JanMcInnisComedian https://www.facebook.com/ComedianJanMcInnis https://www.instagram.com/jan.mcinnis/ Jan has shared her humor keynotes from Fortune 500 companies to international associations. Groups such as . .. Healthcare. . . Mayo Clinic, Health Information Management Associations, Healthcare Financial Management Associations, Hospitals, Abbott Pharmaceuticals, Sanofi Aventis Pharmaceuticals, Kaiser-Permanente, Davita Dialysis Centers, Blue Cross, Blue Shield, Home Healthcare Associations, Assisted Living Associations, Healthcare Associations, National Council for Prescription Drug Companies, Organization of Nurse Leaders, Medical Group Management Associations, Healthcare Risk Associations, Healthcare Quality Associations Financial. . . Federal Reserve Banks, BDO Accounting, Transamerica Insurance & Investment Group, Merrill Lynch, treasury management associations, bankers associations, credit unions, Money Transmitter Regulators Association, Finance Officers Associations, automated clearing house associations, American Institute of CPAs, financial planning companies, Securities, Insurance, Licensing Association Government . . . purchasing officers associations, city clerks, International Institute of Municipal Clerks, National League of Cities, International Worker's Compensation Fund, correctional associations, LA County Management Association, Social Security Administration, Southern California Public Power Authority, public utilities, U.S. Air Force, public personnel associations, public procurement associations, risk management associations, Rehabilitation associations, rural housing associations, community action associations Women's Events. . . American Heart Associations, Go Red For Women luncheons, Speaking of Women's Health, International Association of Administrative Professionals, administrative professionals events, Toyota Women's Conference, Women in Insurance and Financial Services, Soroptimists, Women in Film & Video, ladies night out events, Henry Ford Health Centers Women's Event, spirit of women events, breast cancer awareness, Education . . . School Business Officials associations, school superintendent associations, school boards associations, state education associations, community college associations, school administrators associations, school plant managers associations, Head Start associations, Texas adult protective services, school nutrition associations, Association of Elementary and Middle School Principals, principal associations, library associations Emergency, safety, and Disaster . . . International Association of Emergency Managers, Disney Emergency Managers, state emergency management associations, insurance groups, COPIC, Salt Lake County Public Works and Municipal Services Disaster Recovery Conference, Pennsylvania Governor's Occupational Safety and Health conference, Mid Atlantic Safety conference and Chesapeake Regional Safety Council, Risk associations
What a magnificent full moon!Late April.The San Fernando Valley shimmered gently.Tiny lights flickered softly,like electric fireflies in summer dreams.In a small garden,beneath an old wise lemon tree,something special was about to happen.Because lemon trees, you know,hide delicate secrets;magical whispers, patiently guardedamong their fruits, flowers and branches.Up high, safe and sound,Mr and Mrs Hummingbird waited.Little hearts vibrating with hope.They watched carefully,as small eggs cracked, whispered and hatchedunder California's warm sky.Jack and Sally arrived.At first with their eyes closed,resting peacefully in the warmth of their mother.Days passed gently.Soon their eyes opened andfeathers grew, stretching softly.From their nest they gazed with wonderat the lively world of the garden:birds singing, flowers murmuring,bees buzzing tirelesslyand squirrels chasing each other merrily,leaping from tree to treeas if they'd had a little too much coffee;far too much, in fact!“Calm down a bit,” exclaimed Sally bravely from the nest.“We're still learning how to be hummingbirds!”The garden fell silent for a moment,smiled quietly,and kindly replied,“Welcome, Jack! Welcome, Sally! Welcome to the Valley!”Days turned into weeks. Sally stretched her wings,tiny feathers growing stronger by the hour,training and preparingto reach the sky of her dreams.At last, the big day came.“Watch me, Jack!” sang Sally joyfully,and with a brave flutter, she left the nest.She flew—slowly at first, then faster;twirling, laughing, gliding above the flowers and below the branches,while the whole garden cheered and clapped.Jack watched from the nest, silent.His left wing, carefully folded, was still unsure.The garden held its breath, happy for Sally,but gently concerned for Jack.“Your moment will come too, dear,” whispered Mrs Hummingbird softly,kissing Jack on the forehead. “Believe in it.”That very night, as stars filled the sky,Jack stared at the little Glass Hot-Air Balloon that,hanging from a branch of the lemon tree,swayed gently in the evening breeze.An ornament, a sunset trapped,gently lit from within by dancing flames that, perhaps, were fake,but only if you didn't believe in magic.Jack believed.He balanced carefully, hopping softly,bravely, from branch to branch,towards the glowing balloon that kept on dancing in the windas if it were flying through the sky.Without hesitation, he jumped into the tiny basket.Suddenly, sparks shimmered. Whirls danced.Magic awakened beneath his feathers,as the Glass Hot-Air Balloon rose,lifting slowly into the evening air.“Jack!” exclaimed Sally, eyes full of wonder.She flew right up next to him, laughing.Together they soared, joyfully twirling,while the garden clapped louder than ever.Even Mr and Mrs Hummingbird blinked in astonishment,smiling proudly at their brave children.“You know,” said an old owl,smiling wisely from a nearby branch,“if you follow the sunset, through the canyon,you'll reach the Great Blue Ocean.”Jack's heart fluttered with courage.“Come with me, Sally!” he said, eyes shining.And Sally didn't hesitate.She joined Jack on the hot-air balloonand together they flew higher and farther,beyond the valley, over winding canyons,towards golden rays blending with endless blue.The ocean appeared—glittering, infinite;the waves whispering gentle secretslit softly by what was left of the sunset.Below, the Malibu pier glowed warm and welcoming,caressed by the Pacific Ocean and the breeze.The whole bay greeted the brave adventurers.Jack breathed deeply, heart full.He had found his way to fly, to soar in the sky;not by trying to be like the others,but by embracing who he truly was.Because it's not our limits that define us,but our courage to dream,our will to believe,and the magic we carry within.Because nothing,absolutely nothing,can stop those who dare to dream.- Written by Marco Ciappelli
What a magnificent full moon!Late April.The San Fernando Valley shimmered gently.Tiny lights flickered softly,like electric fireflies in summer dreams.In a small garden,beneath an old wise lemon tree,something special was about to happen.Because lemon trees, you know,hide delicate secrets;magical whispers, patiently guardedamong their fruits, flowers and branches.Up high, safe and sound,Mr and Mrs Hummingbird waited.Little hearts vibrating with hope.They watched carefully,as small eggs cracked, whispered and hatchedunder California's warm sky.Jack and Sally arrived.At first with their eyes closed,resting peacefully in the warmth of their mother.Days passed gently.Soon their eyes opened andfeathers grew, stretching softly.From their nest they gazed with wonderat the lively world of the garden:birds singing, flowers murmuring,bees buzzing tirelesslyand squirrels chasing each other merrily,leaping from tree to treeas if they'd had a little too much coffee;far too much, in fact!“Calm down a bit,” exclaimed Sally bravely from the nest.“We're still learning how to be hummingbirds!”The garden fell silent for a moment,smiled quietly,and kindly replied,“Welcome, Jack! Welcome, Sally! Welcome to the Valley!”Days turned into weeks. Sally stretched her wings,tiny feathers growing stronger by the hour,training and preparingto reach the sky of her dreams.At last, the big day came.“Watch me, Jack!” sang Sally joyfully,and with a brave flutter, she left the nest.She flew—slowly at first, then faster;twirling, laughing, gliding above the flowers and below the branches,while the whole garden cheered and clapped.Jack watched from the nest, silent.His left wing, carefully folded, was still unsure.The garden held its breath, happy for Sally,but gently concerned for Jack.“Your moment will come too, dear,” whispered Mrs Hummingbird softly,kissing Jack on the forehead. “Believe in it.”That very night, as stars filled the sky,Jack stared at the little Glass Hot-Air Balloon that,hanging from a branch of the lemon tree,swayed gently in the evening breeze.An ornament, a sunset trapped,gently lit from within by dancing flames that, perhaps, were fake,but only if you didn't believe in magic.Jack believed.He balanced carefully, hopping softly,bravely, from branch to branch,towards the glowing balloon that kept on dancing in the windas if it were flying through the sky.Without hesitation, he jumped into the tiny basket.Suddenly, sparks shimmered. Whirls danced.Magic awakened beneath his feathers,as the Glass Hot-Air Balloon rose,lifting slowly into the evening air.“Jack!” exclaimed Sally, eyes full of wonder.She flew right up next to him, laughing.Together they soared, joyfully twirling,while the garden clapped louder than ever.Even Mr and Mrs Hummingbird blinked in astonishment,smiling proudly at their brave children.“You know,” said an old owl,smiling wisely from a nearby branch,“if you follow the sunset, through the canyon,you'll reach the Great Blue Ocean.”Jack's heart fluttered with courage.“Come with me, Sally!” he said, eyes shining.And Sally didn't hesitate.She joined Jack on the hot-air balloonand together they flew higher and farther,beyond the valley, over winding canyons,towards golden rays blending with endless blue.The ocean appeared—glittering, infinite;the waves whispering gentle secretslit softly by what was left of the sunset.Below, the Malibu pier glowed warm and welcoming,caressed by the Pacific Ocean and the breeze.The whole bay greeted the brave adventurers.Jack breathed deeply, heart full.He had found his way to fly, to soar in the sky;not by trying to be like the others,but by embracing who he truly was.Because it's not our limits that define us,but our courage to dream,our will to believe,and the magic we carry within.Because nothing,absolutely nothing,can stop those who dare to dream.- Written by Marco Ciappelli Each story is currently written and narrated in both Italian and English.The translation from Italian (the original language) to English and the reading of the stories are performed using Generative Artificial Intelligence — which perhaps has a touch of magic... We hope it has done a good job!If you like it, make sure to tell your friends, family, and teachers, and subscribe to this podcast to stay updated. You'll be able to read or listen to new stories as soon as they become available. Visit us On The Official Website https://www.storiesottolestelle.com/
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The Tribe of the Wandering Shoes | Part Three & Four | Winter, Spring, and the ReturnAfter a summer shining with light and an autumn drizzly but fascinating in its colors, the Tribe of the Wandering Shoes set off again for new adventures—mysterious, surprising, and of course, a little dangerous. More determined than ever, ready to overcome any challenge, they resumed their journey Winter didn't take long to arrive: in December, the first snow fell on the mountains. The Tribe boarded a coach headed to the Dolomites, where the snow-covered peaks waited for them on the horizon. As soon as they settled into the hotel, excitement took over. They couldn't wait to dive into the fresh snow and build a giant snowman! They got straight to work, shoveling pile after pile of snow. With a little ladder, step by step, they reached the height of the face. Two buttons for eyes, a carrot for a nose, a pipe in the mouth, and a scarf wrapped around the neck—it was perfect!“Brrr! It's freezing!” — exclaimed one of them, and they all looked down at their tips and saw they were completely frozen.“We need a miracle!” — declared one shoe with a solemn tone.“Maybe a portable radiator…” — mumbled another, her laces trembling.They decided to call the Alpine Rescue Team, which arrived with a supersonic jet packed with hot water bottles, boiling tea, and thermal blankets. But just then, the weather station—mounted on a space ship at the top of the mountain—reported a severe snowstorm on the way. The Tribe, worried, asked to return immediately to the valley, but the jet couldn't transport them in the traditional way. The only solution? Catapult them down like snowballs wrapped in thermal blankets!“Um… excuse me, but has anyone ever tried this system before?” — asked one shoe, suspicious.“No, but what could possibly go wrong?” — replied another.“Worst case, we'll end up spread across the snow like jam on toast!”The flight was wild: they bounced off a cable car, spun an eagle and a couple of vultures into the air, who, surprised, exclaimed, “Oh! Oh!”Fortunately, the mountain pines gave them a soft landing with their snowy branches. The shoes landed unlaced, a bit bruised, but safe.“I think we just invented the first extreme sport for footwear,” — commented one, still dizzy.The villagers in the valley found them and, touched by their story, brought them to the old cobbler in town. The man, with decades of experience repairing mountain shoes, was initially puzzled to see such a colorful and battered bunch. That night, the cobbler couldn't sleep, wondering how to fix them. At dawn, with determination, he got to work.“No, no, help! You're going to hurt me!” — protested the purple shoe at the sight of the tools.“Oh please!” — said the cobbler with a smile.“I've been bringing mountain boots back to life for years. You'll be brand new, trust me!”And so, with expert hands, he stitched, glued, and brightened their colors, working passionately until every shoe looked spectacular again.The Tribe spent happy days in the village. With Christmas around the corner, they helped decorate the lit-up streets, snow-covered trees, and shop windows. By then, everyone knew their story and called them left and right for advice on decorations, and the atmosphere was magical and festive.Soon, the days grew brighter and you could feel the awakening of spring in the air. Their snowy adventure was behind them, but a new challenge was waiting ahead. The Tribe started to miss the city they had left and decided to go back. They marched in single file and took the right road at the first roundabout. They followed a little stream and, after a long walk, stopped by the bank to rest. They stepped into the shallow water to cool off, when one of them, sharper than the others, noticed something strange beneath some dry branches.“Come here, come here!” — she called out.The others rushed over curiously, and with great effort, they managed to flip over what turned out to be an old wooden boat. They jumped in, nudging each other.“I'm going first!”“No, me first!”They bickered, tripping over their own laces, but since they were a bit tired from walking, each one took her place. Soon, they noticed a problem.“Um… has anyone seen the oars?”“Oh no! Now how do we move?”Just then, a shiny pike and a giant shimmering carp emerged from the foamy waves and, without saying a word, began to push the boat, gliding it along the stream and lifting it into the air.“But… this is magic!” — gasped one shoe, amazed.As the stream widened into a river, they spotted their city in the distance. The two extraordinary fish dropped them off on the shore and, in the blink of an eye, vanished into the golden reflections of the water.“Good gracious, what just happened?” — they all exclaimed.Still stunned and silent, they headed toward the big tree-lined park in the city. Lying in the grass, they looked up at the blue sky and realized just how much they had missed their busy store and the bustling crowd. That's when they noticed something strange.For the first time, they looked carefully at the glowing sign above the entrance: “Sorelle Soletta Department Store”They stared at each other, wide-eyed. The Little Witch Soletta… was the owner of the shop!Once placed back on the shelves, with their laces tied tight and their soles polished, the shoes smiled at one another.“What an adventure, folks…” — sighed the purple shoe.“Oh yeah,” — replied the red one, “but it's so nice to be back here!”“With all due respect to eagles, cobblers, and flying fish… nothing beats the smell of the shop in the morning,” — added the blue shoe dreamily.“And here we've got curtains, changing rooms, and customers who try us on gently…”“…not to mention Little Witch Soletta watching over us!” They all burst out laughing. “In the end,” — concluded the one with golden laces, “traveling is wonderful… but coming home is even better.”And from that day on, every time a child or an adult chose one of them, a new story began.But that one… well… that's another adventure!
In this podcast short Ashea narrates an article by Russ Hughes discussing the genius creative work behind the Netflix show Adolescence.Click here to follow along with the article:
The Wondrous Vegetable ShopWith the arrival of spring, beneath the soft mantle of the earth, tubers and roots began to awaken. The carrots stretched their orange tips with their green tufts. The round and plump potatoes whispered among themselves.“I can feel the warmth of the sun even down here,” said a deep red beetroot. “Doesn't it seem like the perfect moment to show ourselves to the world?”“You're right!” an enthusiastic onion replied. “Enough of staying down here! I want to shine on the shelves of a beautiful shop.”So, they began their journey toward the surface. The earth gently parted to let those cheerful and determined roots pass through. Once they emerged, they started strolling carefree among the olive trees of the Tuscan hills, chatting happily about their new adventure.Along their path, some sparrows hopped on the branches and, seeing the lively and chatty group, immediately chirped: “Chirp, chirp, chirp! Where are you going, fragrant vegetables?”“To find the most special shop in town and put ourselves on display,” they replied.A farmer, who had cultivated with passion for many years and cared deeply about the quality of his produce, noticed them and gently gathered them. He placed them in a basket and took them to a shop in Sesto Fiorentino, well known for its dedication to the finest products of the land.Above the shop's window, the sign read: THE WONDROUS VEGETABLE SHOP.In baskets lovingly arranged, the carrots displayed their vibrant orange color, the potatoes gleamed, and even the onions proudly showed off their shining hues. The radishes giggled and happily put themselves on display as well.Customers couldn't resist such a spectacle of colors and scents and stopped, enchanted, saying: “What spectacular vegetables! Now this is a well-stocked and high-quality shop!”The vegetables were delighted to be appreciated and purchased—they knew they would bring flavors and smiles to every kitchen with delicious dishes. Full of taste and nutrients, they were happy to be healthy and wholesome ingredients for everyone, from the youngest to the oldest, bringing to the table the joy and warmth of a meal shared with family and friends, following Italian tradition.And so, buon appetito to everyone!________________________________________________________________________Each story is currently written and narrated in both Italian and English.The translation from Italian (the original language) to English and the reading of the stories are performed using Generative Artificial Intelligence — which perhaps has a touch of magic... We hope it has done a good job!If you like it, make sure to tell your friends, family, and teachers, and subscribe to this podcast to stay updated. You'll be able to read or listen to new stories as soon as they become available.Visit us On The Official Website https://www.storiesottolestelle.com/
In this podcast short Ashea narrates an article by Russ Hughes, discussing the disastrous predictions about the audio and music tech industry that have yet to come true. Read The Article Here:https://www.production-expert.com/production-expert-1/three-music-technology-predictions-that-never-came-true
On a Bench, Waiting for the TrainAt the village station, under a long wooden canopy, steel tracks ran on both sides, allowing trains to speed past in a blur. But every now and then, some would stop, only for a moment, before continuing their journey after passengers had disembarked and boarded.Grandfather had promised many times to take his grandson to visit the train station near their home, and now they were finally there. Standing on the platform, the boy waited with eager anticipation—his first time seeing a train arrive.After a few minutes, a bell rang, followed by an announcement:"Train number 75265 arriving on Track 2. Coming from here, going there. Please pay attention and board if it's yours. It won't wait long—it's running late, as usual…"Soon, the locomotive appeared in the distance, approaching rapidly before slowing to a stop in front of them.The boy had never seen anything so overwhelming. Gripping his grandfather's trousers, he shrank back and cried out:"Help, help, help!"To his eyes, the train was a towering iron giant, covered in strange designs, exuding mystery. A moving machine on rails. A long, mechanical serpent, fast as lightning—imposing, unfamiliar, and yet… fascinating.Passengers stepped out of the open carriage doors, while others hurried aboard. Some people rushed back and forth, luggage in hand, checking schedules on glowing boards before boarding their trains to destinations unknown."Maybe it's not a monster after all. The grown-ups aren't scared like I am."The boy tried to be brave, glancing up at his grandfather, who smiled and took his hand. They lingered at the station for a while, sitting on a bench, watching trains come and go, the stationmaster blowing his whistle, the endless movement of travelers.As the sun dipped below the horizon, Grandfather bought two ice creams—strawberry and pistachio—from the station café. Enjoying their sweet treats, they strolled home, hearts light with happiness. A few days later, it was the boy's birthday. Grandfather never had any doubt about what to give him. They returned to the station, and after purchasing two tickets, he said:"Now you're old enough to travel. So today, we set off on your first adventure. And just wait—when you grow up, you'll have so many more!"But these were no ordinary tickets.When the station clerk heard it was the boy's first train journey, he called over the Stationmaster. With a knowing smile, the Stationmaster reached into his pocket and handed them two colorful tickets that read:Destination: End of the Line StationTrain Number: 18674Valid for: Round TripPlatform: 2 and 1/2, almost 3Valid in: Sun, rain, snow, or windIncludes: Popcorn and souvenir"Huh, how odd," Grandfather thought, scratching his head beneath his hat."But everyone knows you can always trust the Stationmaster."And so, hand in hand, they made their way to Platform 2 and 1/2, almost 3.A few benches were occupied by waiting passengers, but one was free. They sat side by side. Excitement buzzed in the air like migrating birds, their imaginations already soaring as a soft breeze brushed their faces.The train was arriving!A whistle. The screech of brakes. The hum of engines. The overhead speakers announced:"Attention, attention! Train Number 18674 is now at the station. Departure imminent for the End of the Line Station. The weather is uncertain, but that's fine—nothing to be done about it anyway. Fresh, crunchy popcorn will be served throughout the journey."The train slowed to a full stop, and with a gentle creak, its doors swung open. No one got off, but many climbed aboard, quickly filling the seats—except for one at the back of the carriage.Grandfather settled into it, placing his grandson on his lap. The boy felt safe there.With wide eyes, he took in the strange world around him. Some seats faced forward, others backward."Which ones were pointing the right way?"He wondered for a moment, then, with a spark of imagination, transformed the passengers into pieces on a grand chessboard, ready for a fantastic game.A tall, broad-shouldered man with a long beard stood at the front."Aha! An ogre!"Beside him, a plump woman with strong features."Definitely the ogress!"At the center, a blonde girl with blue eyes, absorbed in her phone."A princess!"A heavily tattooed man with multiple earrings and a face full of stories."An explorer!"Further back, a young woman in a wide-brimmed straw hat, wearing flowing clothes and bracelets that jingled softly."A traveler!""How could all these different characters fit into the same story?"As he pondered, the train whistled louder, gliding through plains, tunnels, and hills until the voice overhead declared:"Attention, attention! The train is arriving at End of the Line Station. All passengers, prepare to disembark."A gentle deceleration. A smooth stop."Wow! Amazing!"Instead of opening, the train's side panels lowered to the ground, forming ramps leading directly onto the platform.A light mist veiled the station, but an irresistible scent of roasted treats and cotton candy filled the air. Following the sweet aroma, the passengers arrived at a vast square where a statue in the center spouted water from its enormous mouth, surrounded by a fantastic garden.As the mist lifted, a flock of brightly colored, chattering parrots burst into view, circling above.Then, suddenly—"Look, look! What a surprise!"They all exclaimed in unison.Mary Poppins, on a bicycle, umbrella in hand, was pedaling through the garden."Why are you here?" the parrots asked, curious and mischievous."I'm collecting children's wishes in my upturned umbrella," she replied. "My chimney sweep friends will carry them home, transforming them into dreams ready to come true.""Craa, craa! We have a wish too! To fly around the world, with no destination, no hurry!""Very well," Mary Poppins smiled. "And what's your address for the dream delivery?"The parrots twirled in the air, singing:"Craa, craa! The street that isn't there, in the invisible house at number no-number! Bye-bye, Mary Poppins! We're free—craa, craa—we're off to dream!"She waved farewell and pedaled away.In the enchanted garden, stalls overflowed with sweets, magical rides spun, enchanted toys lay scattered, and a marvelous cart brimmed with books that turned their pages with a mere thought. An ancient talking tree told fairy tales, offering juicy, special fruits to those who listened.The parrots, flitting here and there, served as slightly distracted guides, leading the travelers left and right. A small group was following the man who looked like an ogre.He walked with determination, carrying a large suitcase, and was followed by his wife, who held a half-open bag overflowing with all sorts of trinkets. Behind them came the explorer, the blue-eyed princess, and finally, the tourist with the straw hat.Guided by the parrots, they made their way toward a strange building at the edge of the square. As they got closer, they realized it was an old, neglected theater—worn with time but still holding a certain architectural charm. The scent of dust and aged wood drifted from the slightly open door, adding to the place's mysterious atmosphere.The five peculiar characters were none other than actors, ready to perform a show filled with surprises, illusions, and wonders. Entry was free.Inside the theater, soft music played in the background, audible even from outside, leading them toward the stage.The enchantment of the place and sheer curiosity drew in all the other travelers as well, including the grandfather and grandson, who stepped inside to witness an unexpected spectacle.They had barely found their seats—worn and faded with age—when suddenly, white doves appeared, fluttering above their heads.The ogre revealed himself to be, in fact, a magician. With a swift motion, a breath, and—pluff!—his costume changed in an instant. Then again. And again.At the sides of the stage, a hall of mirrors distorted objects into strange shapes, while hidden playing cards appeared and vanished within the audience's seats, mixing together as if by magic. Yet, no matter what, the magician always seemed to guess the chosen card correctly.Suddenly, as if by enchantment, the princess and the explorer appeared. Behind them, sparks of fire shaped like stars filled the theater."What a show, what a marvel!"The entire stage lit up as the magician, waving his wand in the air like a conductor, brought forth a waltz. At its rhythm, the two actors, now transformed into dancers, moved gracefully to the music. Under the magician's guidance, they floated into the air, performing acrobatics.Meanwhile, the magician's wife—who was a bit of a sorceress herself—stepped onto the stage, opened her bag of trinkets, and out came balls, rings, and juggling pins. The tourist in the straw hat appeared beside her, and together, they began a dazzling juggling act, perfectly in sync with the music.As the waltz neared its end, both the dancers and the jugglers vanished in a cloud of smoke and lights. Incredibly, even the stage itself disappeared.The audience held their breath, stunned and enchanted, before bursting into applause, smiling in amazement as the Ogre Magician bowed deeply in gratitude.The show had come to an end.Still astonished, the travelers left the theater, but the magic followed them as they made their way back toward the station.The whole town felt like an enchantment, and at the heart of it were the grandson and his grandfather—unexpected protagonists of a timeless adventure. So great was their wonder that they had lost track of how long they had been there.Guided once again by the flitting parrots, they returned to the main square along with all the other passengers. From the nearby station, glowing signs signaled the imminent departure of Train 18674."Attention, attention! Train Number 18674 has arrived at the station. Departure imminent for destination: Return Station. Weather still uncertain, but no need to worry. Hot popcorn, souvenir postcards, and an almost-magic wand included in the ticket price."As the travelers boarded, the parrots fluttered in farewell, then soared toward the horizon, disappearing alongside Mary Poppins.The train pulled away slowly, smoothly. From the windows, passengers watched as the enchanted town faded into the mist once more.In the blink of an eye, they were back where they had started: the small village station.As the train glided through the mist, the village slowly reappeared.In the warm light of a summer evening, the passengers stepped off one by one, still in awe of the unexpected journey. They whispered among themselves, exchanging impressions of what they had just experienced.Grandfather and grandson decided to stop for an ice cream before heading home. They walked over to the station café and, without hesitation, ordered two cones with their favorite flavors: strawberry and pistachio.Just as they took their first bites, they turned toward the tracks—and froze.The train that had taken them on their journey was gone.Not only that—the other passengers had vanished too, without leaving a trace.From behind the station clock's column, the Stationmaster appeared, his satchel slung across his shoulder and his signal paddle in hand. He raised his head, tipped his hat with a smile, and then, whistling softly, strolled down the empty platform.Grandfather and the boy waved enthusiastically before taking each other's hand. As they walked home, savoring their strawberry and pistachio ice creams, they talked happily about their extraordinary adventure.It almost felt like a dream.But, as everyone knows, reality and fantasy often walk hand in hand.Just like the grandfather and the child, making their way home, bathed in the golden hues of sunset.
In this podcast short, Julian explains why, unlike some audio pros (who use different DAWs for different tasks such as writing vs mixing) he only uses Pro Tools. Link to the Article:https://www.production-expert.com/production-expert-1/why-i-only-use-pro-tools-as-my-daw-of-choice
In this podcast short, Ashea narrates an article by Russ Hughes, where he delves into his experience with depression and anxiety. Creative people are more likely to experience mental health issues, partly due to the immense pressure we are often put under, so it´s important to take time for ourselves to reflect and be attentive to our mental and physical health. The holidays can be a good time to do this.If you are affected or know someone who is struggling with the issues mentioned in this podcast short, please know that you are not alone and there most definitely is hope.Helpful links:https://www.samaritans.org/how-we-can-help/contact-samaritan/https://www.mind.org.uk/donate/acq-christmas-2024/?gad_source=1&gclid=Cj0KCQiA1Km7BhC9ARIsAFZfEIv-nrundcUa2BAWKmRI3WnNoK41m4IrGj3aDxZrnlNvNA7bM-Zd1wYaAh3YEALw_wcB
Episode: E989 PERSONAL PODCAST – Short Order Kelly Description: A crowded podcast room as foster dog integration advances and a busy Holiday/Birthday season gets started. Coupled with Chaos full episodes and bonus content subscriptions are available here: Premium Content, including Additional 90 Day Fiancé episodes, coverage of other TLC and A&E shows and even some crime news along with more personal podcast episodes are available by subscription at: Supercast: https://coupledwithchaosnetwork.supercast.tech/ Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/coupledwithchaos Apple: Coupled with Chaos Channel: https://podcasts.apple.com/us/channel/coupled-with-chaos/id6442522170 Contacts us: Email: Coupledwithchaos@gmail.com Web site: https://coupledwithchaos.com Facebook: @Coupledwithchaos Instagram: @Coupledwithchaos Twitter: @CoupledwChaos
Episode: PERSONAL PODCAST – Short Order Kelly Description: A crowded podcast room as foster dog integration advances and a busy Holiday/Birthday season gets started. Coupled with Chaos full episodes and bonus content subscriptions are available here: Premium Content, including Additional 90 Day Fiancé episodes, coverage of other TLC and A&E shows and even some crime news along with more personal podcast episodes are available by subscription at: Supercast: https://coupledwithchaosnetwork.supercast.tech/ Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/coupledwithchaos Apple: Coupled with Chaos Channel: https://podcasts.apple.com/us/channel/coupled-with-chaos/id6442522170 Contacts us: Email: Coupledwithchaos@gmail.com Web site: https://coupledwithchaos.com Facebook: @Coupledwithchaos Instagram: @Coupledwithchaos Twitter: @CoupledwChaos
In this podcast short, Ashea narrates an article by Russ Hughes, where he delves into his experience with depression and anxiety. Creative people are more likely to experience mental health issues, partly due to the immense pressure we are often put under, so it´s important to take time for ourselves to reflect and be attentive to our mental and physical health. The holidays can be a good time to do this. If you are affected or know someone who is struggling with the issues mentioned in this podcast short, please know that you are not alone and there most definitely is hope.Helpful links:https://www.samaritans.org/how-we-can-help/contact-samaritan/https://www.mind.org.uk/donate/acq-christmas-2024/?gad_source=1&gclid=Cj0KCQiA1Km7BhC9ARIsAFZfEIv-nrundcUa2BAWKmRI3WnNoK41m4IrGj3aDxZrnlNvNA7bM-Zd1wYaAh3YEALw_wcB
In this podcast short, Ashea narrates an article by Russ Hughes, on the perils the instant success trend plaguing the audio industry right now, and what we as professionals can do to address it.
In this Podcast Short Julian explains his reasons for nominating 5 skills which he thinks every engineer would benefit from learning, and 3 which, while very worthwhile, don't make the list.The original article can be found here and the article by Damien Kearns referenced in the podcast can be found here.
Gabe Brown is a renowned advocate and practitioner of regenerative agriculture from North Dakota, who runs Brown's Ranch and is the co-founder of Understanding Ag. He is recognized for his innovative approach to farming, focusing on enhancing soil health, reducing dependency on synthetic inputs, and using sustainable practices. Gabe transitioned to regenerative agriculture after experiencing years of poor crop yields due to extreme weather events. Today, Brown's Ranch consists of several thousand acres of native perennial rangeland along with perennial pastureland and cropland. Their ranch focuses on farming and ranching in nature's image where he demonstrates holistic, eco-friendly farming practices and educates others on the benefits of regenerative methods. In this episode, John and Gabe discuss: The importance of ongoing education in agriculture, specifically in soil health and ecosystems Maintaining an open-mind to avoid divisiveness in the regenerative agriculture community Adapting agricultural practices based on each grower's unique environment, economic, and family Taking a gradual approach to reducing chemicals on farms The importance of soil biology and mycorrhizal fungi How learning from a hands-on approach allows farmers to see benefits on their own land Additional Resources To learn more about Gabe and Brown's Ranch, please visit: https://brownsranch.us/ To learn more about Understanding Ag, please visit: https://understandingag.com/ About John Kempf John Kempf is the founder of Advancing Eco Agriculture (AEA). A top expert in biological and regenerative farming, John founded AEA in 2006 to help fellow farmers by providing the education, tools, and strategies that will have a global effect on the food supply and those who grow it. Through intense study and the knowledge gleaned from many industry leaders, John is building a comprehensive systems-based approach to plant nutrition – a system solidly based on the sciences of plant physiology, mineral nutrition, and soil microbiology. Support For This Show & Helping You Grow Since 2006, AEA has been on a mission to help growers become more resilient, efficient, and profitable with regenerative agriculture. AEA works directly with growers to apply its unique line of liquid mineral crop nutrition products and biological inoculants. Informed by cutting-edge plant and soil data-gathering techniques, AEA's science-based programs empower farm operations to meet the crop quality markers that matter the most. AEA has created real and lasting change on millions of acres with its products and data-driven services by working hand-in-hand with growers to produce healthier soil, stronger crops, and higher profits. Beyond working on the ground with growers, AEA leads in regenerative agriculture media and education, producing and distributing the popular and highly-regarded Regenerative Agriculture Podcast, inspiring webinars, and other educational content that serve as go-to resources for growers worldwide. Learn more about AEA's regenerative programs and products: https://www.advancingecoag.com
In this episode, John Kempf interviews Jeff Kleypas, a consultant with Advancing Eco Agriculture. Jeff's pivotal moment came when he was exposed to the harmful impacts of pesticides during his work as a field agronomy scout. This experience, combined with observations of improved outcomes using biological methods, fueled his shift towards a more sustainable approach. John and Jeff discuss the challenges of shifting from conventional to regenerative agriculture, highlighting the difficulties in reducing nitrogen applications despite clear data supporting the change, and the broader health implications of conventional agricultural practices. Jeff shares insights on how he helps growers navigate these challenges, emphasizing the importance of an open mind and continuous learning in the evolving field of regenerative agriculture. Additional Resources To learn more about AEA, please visit: https://advancingecoag.com/ About John Kempf John Kempf is the founder of Advancing Eco Agriculture (AEA). A top expert in biological and regenerative farming, John founded AEA in 2006 to help fellow farmers by providing the education, tools, and strategies that will have a global effect on the food supply and those who grow it. Through intense study and the knowledge gleaned from many industry leaders, John is building a comprehensive systems-based approach to plant nutrition – a system solidly based on the sciences of plant physiology, mineral nutrition, and soil microbiology. Support For This Show & Helping You Grow Since 2006, AEA has been on a mission to help growers become more resilient, efficient, and profitable with regenerative agriculture. AEA works directly with growers to apply its unique line of liquid mineral crop nutrition products and biological inoculants. Informed by cutting-edge plant and soil data-gathering techniques, AEA's science-based programs empower farm operations to meet the crop quality markers that matter the most. AEA has created real and lasting change on millions of acres with its products and data-driven services by working hand-in-hand with growers to produce healthier soil, stronger crops, and higher profits. Beyond working on the ground with growers, AEA leads in regenerative agriculture media and education, producing and distributing the popular and highly-regarded Regenerative Agriculture Podcast, inspiring webinars, and other educational content that serve as go-to resources for growers worldwide. Learn more about AEA's regenerative programs and products: https://www.advancingecoag.com
Kerry Hoffschneider is an advocate for regenerating relationships in agriculture, who focuses on storytelling and hope within agriculture, emphasizing the human element and the need for deeper connections between farmers, the land, and their communities. Kerry's work blends her deep-rooted personal connection to farming with her experiences as a writer and communicator. Growing up on a small Nebraska farm, she witnessed the struggles of family farming, particularly during the 1980s farm crisis. Kerry's career has ranged from reporting on agriculture to working in the corporate sector before co-founding the Graze Master Group with Del Ficke. Additional Resources To learn more about the Graze Master Group, please visit: www.grazemastergroup.com or go to their Facebook page, www.facebook.com/GrazeMasterGroup To get your copy of Kerry's book “Hope Stories for the Heartland”, please visit: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0D264BYVQ About John Kempf John Kempf is the founder of Advancing Eco Agriculture (AEA). A top expert in biological and regenerative farming, John founded AEA in 2006 to help fellow farmers by providing the education, tools, and strategies that will have a global effect on the food supply and those who grow it. Through intense study and the knowledge gleaned from many industry leaders, John is building a comprehensive systems-based approach to plant nutrition – a system solidly based on the sciences of plant physiology, mineral nutrition, and soil microbiology. Support For This Show & Helping You Grow Since 2006, AEA has been on a mission to help growers become more resilient, efficient, and profitable with regenerative agriculture. AEA works directly with growers to apply its unique line of liquid mineral crop nutrition products and biological inoculants. Informed by cutting-edge plant and soil data-gathering techniques, AEA's science-based programs empower farm operations to meet the crop quality markers that matter the most. AEA has created real and lasting change on millions of acres with its products and data-driven services by working hand-in-hand with growers to produce healthier soil, stronger crops, and higher profits. Beyond working on the ground with growers, AEA leads in regenerative agriculture media and education, producing and distributing the popular and highly-regarded Regenerative Agriculture Podcast, inspiring webinars, and other educational content that serve as go-to resources for growers worldwide. Learn more about AEA's regenerative programs and products: https://www.advancingecoag.com