The 'BARKING OWL' always has something to say, and like the feathered version, can be either WISE...............or ANNOYING!







Wednesday, November 30, 2011

WORDLESS WEDNESDAY: Eye Contact






Third on my Bucket List: The CASK

Not being able to decide which meaning of BUCKET LIST was intended as this week's blogging theme, I have decided to combine the two possible meanings of the phrase.  I have produced a list of buckets (aided by the synonym experts at thesaurus.com), and now I will try to imagine what each 'bucket' would do with the rest of its life.  Here is the list of containers I will be trying to empathize with this week: brazier, cancask, hod, pail, vat, or vessel.  So far I have talked about the brazier and the can.  You might like this article better if you click on those and read them first.


A cask is a bucket.  At least in the general sense that it is used to contain stuff.  In my mind a cask is like a small barrel, which is kind of like two buckets joined together at the wider end, and with the liquid contents accessible by spout. In the movies we've seen casks of fresh water stored in the hulls of old wooden ships and they were always getting contaminated by seawater during the big storm.  And when land was finally reached, the sailors broke open the casks of rum or beer, which, somehow, were never contaminated by anything!  (If I was the ship's carpenter, or the cooper, I would have been doing a lot of yelling; "Why don't you mugs ever use the spout?  Now I have to fix another cask that you just had to "break into"!  Do you think I have nothing better to do than to go around fixing  casks all day?" And then they'd all say they were sorry and I'd get over it until the next time.)


What comes to mind when you think of a cask?  How about that famous Edgar Allan Poe story about the wine cellar?  The Cask of Amantillado!  I had to look it up, but the key word, cask, made that an easy search.  It was a cask of wine that the 'hero' of the story used as bait to get his revenge on the inaptly named, Fortunato.


Fortunato would have killed for even a broken cask full of water when he found himself chained to a wall, in the back of a wine cellar niche, and in the dark behind a newly laid wall of stone.  


A cask, it seems, is always responsible for providing some essential goods to the table of man.  A barrel is always full of either pickles or crackers and we can all live well enough without those on the menu, but in some countries in the past, wine was the only safe thing to drink.  Fresh water on a ship at sea, of course, is vital for all.


So if a regular old bucket can be used to haul stones to the wall project, slop to the pigs, potatoes from the garden, and soapy water to the floors upstairs, what important product is your cask held in reserve to protect?


God has given us many lists in the Bible.  There are blessings and curses, plagues, commandments, sins, beatitudes, gifts of the Spirit, fruits of the Spirit, faithful saints, tribulations, and ultimate blessings, to name just a few.  But there is a short list of the top three things that God probably keeps in casks, for they will abide forever.


My list of important life factors might be boiled down from the specifics to the more general and include things like health, family well-being, civil freedoms, prosperity, bucket-list plans etc., but God seems to have boiled these down even further to the very very basic and most vital of all: 




And now these three remain: faithhope and love. But the greatest of these is love.                                                                  1 Corinthians 13:13


May we treasure these in our very best cask; the heart of hearts.













Tuesday, November 29, 2011

Second on My Bucket List: The CAN

Not being able to decide which meaning of BUCKET LIST was intended as this week's blogging theme, I have decided to combine the two possible meanings of the phrase.  I have produced a list of buckets (aided by the synonym experts at thesaurus.com), and now I will try to imagine what each 'bucket' would do with the rest of its life.  Here is the list of containers I will be trying to empathize with this week: brazier, cancask, hod, pail, vat, or vessel.  





The CAN


If I ever do have to be a can, I sure hope it's not the can my Mom found me with in the back yard of our house on 59th St when I was 7 or 8 years old.  I was hard at work with a bunch of her steak knives and other needy cutlery.  It seemed that when she said to me "WHAT are you doing?", it was more than a simple query.  And when I told her that repeatedly stabbing this tin can would sharpen her knives, she seemed somehow doubtful.  No.  I would not like to be that can (or that boy, for that matter).


As iron sharpens iron, so one person sharpens another.  Proverbs 27:17




Have you ever been canned?  Once, I was fired.  Repeated car trouble lead to repeated tardiness at one job and when the boss showed up before I did, he lost it.  He told my foreman (his brother-in-law) to fire me when I got there, and then he left.
Poor Joe eventually got around to half heartedly informing me that John told him to fire me.  I think it hurt him more than it hurt me.  Less than a week later John was begging me to come back, but by then I was my own sub-contractor and he had to pay me a lot more!  Good old car trouble!


And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.                     Romans 8:28




Were you ever canned?  I'm picturing a paint can.  A bunch of harsh chemicals are dumped in the steel can and a steel cover is laid on top and beaten into place with a mallet until only a special tool and a lot of repeated effort will get it off.  Those parents who stash and store their kids like this were probably treated the same way.  They come to think that simply containing the elements of youth; the curiosity, the experimentation, the angst--is enough. Little thought is given to what ingredients were tossed into the can, and even less is realized about the fermentation process. 



If some are contained by, and sealed in abuse there will be a rotting; when some are ignored and uncared for, there comes a spoilage; or when some are treated without justice and kindness, a debilitating discouragement will build and will last.




Fathers, do not exasperate your children; instead, bring them up in the training and instruction of the Lord.                               Ephesians 6:4

Fathers, do not embitter your children, or they will become discouraged.                                
                                                                               Colossians 3:21






Or were you canned?  Some kids are pruned and picked and processed with loving care. They are given everything they truly need and protected from harmful contaminants all along the way. While trusting teenagers wait securely under a tight seal the rightly blended ingredients are melding and coalescing to form a fine product, until one day the lid is removed.  Now the young adult enters life with maturity, wisdom and good humor, and is received everywhere with gladness.  A new spouse, even the world at large, is delighted again and again as the well prepared and preserved contents of that jar are served up and shared.  The fruit of this process is a long fulfilled bucket list of accomplishments that bless all of society.


Her children arise and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praises her: 
                                                  Proverbs 31:28




No matter how we were 'processed' or 'canned' or 'labeled' by our families or by our own choices, our God loves and cares for us like no other.  He takes us as we are when we acknowledge Him and can remake whatever is wrong.  


Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come: The old has gone, the new is here!                                            2 Corinthians 5:17


Monday, November 28, 2011

First on My Bucket List: THE BRAZIER

There are few things better than a clever turn of phrase.  Well there's pizza, and there's lemonade/hot chocolate, depending on the season, and there's Sam Cooke singing 'Twistin the night away'; but right after those things, there is the clever turn of phrase.  'Bucket List' is one of my favorites.

When this phrase appeared in our common culture not too many years ago it had just the right balance of meaning and mystery.  The two words are perfectly understandable on their own, and even put together could possibly mean the different types or sizes of containers that a farmer needs and has made note of, before heading to town.  But there is another understanding.  The Bucket portion of the phrase is a vague reference to the old mortality idiom that came from who knows where.  When we die, it is claimed that we somehow "kick the bucket", so a 'Bucket List' may also be the compilation of things one wants to accomplish before he so kicks.  A very clever phrase indeed.

Not being able to decide which was intended as this week's blogging theme, I think I'll combine the two possible meanings of the phrase as I described them above.  I will attempt to produce a list of buckets I might be; and describe the special item that I might (or might not) carry to my grave in each.  

A BRAZIER

picture from schelma.com
Need to carry something burning hot?  Put it in a brazier, and quick!  Best understood as a thick metal pot containing live coals with a grill or plate for cooking.  Or else a pot with live coals and a cover that you might bring to another room  for warmth.  So what very hot item might I carry through my life requiring me to be as tough as a brazier?    I certainly tried, but my sin nature was too hot for me to handle.  While I fanned the flames, it was systematically incinerating my spirit until those flames were finally dealt with by the fourth man in the fiery furnace of Daniel 3:

   Then King Nebuchadnezzar leaped to his feet in amazement and asked his advisers, “Weren’t there three men that we tied up and threw into the fire?”
   They replied, “Certainly, Your Majesty.”
  He said, “Look! I see four men walking around in the fire, unbound and unharmed, and the fourth looks like a son of the gods. 

He, Jesus Christ, can manage the flames.

If you know you have things to confess, but prefer not to; if you are so ashamed, but too ashamed; if you doubt that even our God of mercy would choose to forgive, or maybe your pride forbids you ask; then you are living with ever burning coals inside.  It may seem that they are dying out and soon they will bother you no more, but actually you are getting thicker and ever more insulated, and seemingly more calloused to their direct effect.

If you would rather not carry such a burning burden, repent, and let it be carried away "as far as the east is from the west".  Once the fiery sinful nature is purged, you will no longer need to be as tough as bronze, or suffering as a cast iron brazier smolders within.  The healing, softening work of God can begin a restorative work in your life.



Coming this week: Can you picture me as a.....

brazier, cancask, hod, pail, vat, or vessel?   

Saturday, November 26, 2011

GOD IS GOOD: MILLERWORKS is Good Enough

So I was wrong.  I admit it freely now, and I admitted it quite quickly the other day when the angry old man came storming out of his garage at me.

I arrived to the job a few minutes after Mike had backed his trailer along one side of the wide gravel driveway.  In front of his truck, was an easy access to the front yard of this backwoods, country living log cabin home, and I thought I might park there to ease congestion in the drive.  Front tires went in, and then as I got a better picture of the layout, I backed out, turned around and slid in just off the other side of the driveway with my SUV.  Just right, I thought, for allowing me easy access to my tools, and leaving a wide enough lane open for the homeowner to get his pickup truck out between our work vehicles if needed.

A few minutes later, as I was opening the trailer and getting a few supplies out and ready for our job, I found out differently!
"Did you park on my grass?" was suddenly bellowed toward me as the owner came out of the garage.
"Yeah", I smiled and laughed quietly, ready for a big act.  It's November.  The ground is stiff with looming frost and the grass is half dead and buried under fallen leaves on this wooded lot. Who could really be upset about my zero impact driving?   But it was no act.

The poor guy demanded that this was no joke.  And how would I like it if he came to my house and drove on my lawn in the spring;  he asked me where I live, and then asked for my address and warned me to memorize the grill of his truck so, come springtime, I would recognize the vengeance when it fell.  I am giving him more poetic credit than he deserves and leaving out my pepperings of "Yes, of course you are right.", and about a dozen "I'm sorry sirs.", but you get the idea.  The man was irate, and I could only be apologetic and work to avoid any hint of my inner intransigence.

Mike heard the shouting from the road where he was perforating the lawn with a business sign (oh my) and asked "Is there a problem?"  As I walked away to move my truck the few inches off of the dirty driveway shoulder and onto the driveway proper, I made another mistake.  I called Mike something I never thought I would :  "I already apologized to him SIR!"  That, I will never live down.  By the time I moved my truck, the guy was out of sight and all was quiet.

So now what?  Now I have to go into the house.  With my boots on, I have to walk on this man's floors.  I will be expected to muddle with his front door that is not closing properly and make it all better. Who, me?  It seemed like a thousand things could go wrong for this newly inept carpenter of corruption.  I was tempted to take my truck right off his precious property and go home, rather than face whatever unfair judgments would surely be falling all day long.

Mike and I had a few private laughs about the guy waiting for muddy Spring to mete out his equal treatment, instead of heading for my house right now, as I gathered myself back together and remembered my responsibility to do the job before me, and no less.  I told Mike that one of my favorite verses is one of the most highly applicable:

                             "A gentle answer turns away wrath, 
                                  but a harsh word stirs up anger." Proverbs 15:1


A little later I was working on the front door and had to step aside when the lady of the house drove up and then came in with a couple very large baskets of flowers.  She did not seem happy, and I began to put two and two together.  "Somebody from this home died recently" I told Mike.  They looked like funereal flowers; the kind that somebody has to take home from the church after all is said and done.  When all are sad, and done in; when the normal aggravation of an errant workman puts one over the top, and beyond civility.  When patience and easy forgiveness are warranted, and must be exercised.

As I worked on that door the owner sat down behind me to watch.  (Normally I charge double if someone watches, and triple if they help, but I decided not to mention that this time.)  He had calmed down amazingly and offered me some inside knowledge about an electrical wire running right behind the door jamb I was about to put some long screws into.  The absent log home builder took some abuse for his folly in letting that happen, but my work was progressing without any negative interference.  I took a moment to compliment him about his beautiful home.  It was indeed nicely laid out and very well decorated.  If it weren't for the massive tire ruts all over the yard, this property would.....no, I will not let the sarcasm out this time.

Over the next few hours, as the owner hung about while Mike and I put in some new windows, it came out that the man's 90 year old Mother had died the week before.  He never apologized for going off on me, and probably never thought he should.  But the man certainly did mellow out and I will be all too happy to go back when the next batch of windows needs to be replaced.  Of course, I will park in the very middle of the driveway.


Now the LIEBSTER Award?

(At least this one's not PINK!)
So Jo Heroux (and Kelly Allen, I think; her blog post was more confusing than normal) have both nominated me for "The Lovely Blog Award".    Huh.  'Nuff said about that.

But I remembered that a few months ago I was nominated for the Liebster Award by two people within two days (we won't mention that liebster means dearest in German.  My feminine side is already swelling too much.). I apologize to Susan and Laura who both nominated me for dropping the ball these, almost three, months!  I'm afraid I did not appreciate what these awards meant at the time, but I will be proud to display them now.

Thank you to the aforementioned Susan at todaysworkingwoman25.blogspot.com/2011/09/liebster-award.html and Laura at stoopinitinthesuburbs.blogspot.com/2011/09/liebster-award.html!

The five blogs that I enjoy a lot (which don't already have this award) are:

Linda at http://nickersandinkblog.blogspot.com/

Alana at http://writercize.blogspot.com/

Sylvia at http://www.sylviebranch.com/

Lucy at http://lucybgoosey.blogspot.com/    and of course,

Amy at  http://fromthemomcave.blogspot.com/

Friday, November 25, 2011

Thanks, I Think!

Ok Jo Heroux; just because we happen to disagree on a few minor political issues, did you have to go and call my blog "lovely"?  And saddle me with the little pink flowers and delicate porcelain mug or tea cup or whatever  you call it?

Don't be surprised if all my posts turn into rants for monster trucks and mountain climbing and hot dog eating contests and other manly man stuff now that you've challenged me to prove my masculinity!

By the way everybody; you should know that Jo's blog, http://jo-mywanderingmind.blogspot.com/ is very.....mannish!  (There.  That ought to fix her!)  Maybe THAT'S why I like to visit there.  Or else because she has such an endearing pastel display of hummingbird silhouettes arrayed along both margins that it takes my breath away!

PS  Thanks for the award Jo!

Thursday, November 24, 2011

We Have a Winner!! Congrats to Sarah Pearson!

It took a while, but Sarah Pearson finally came to the right conclusion!  Yes, Sarah, I lied when I said that I only caught one salmon in the nine years I lived in Ketchikan Alaska.  The truth is that I never caught even the one salmon!  And my older brother who also lived there ran a charter fishing business for a while!

Thanks to everyone who participated.  I will be telling a few of these tales as I can fit them in to the weekly themes.  Yes, I was sued for ruining a couple's sex life, but it was all settled out of court.  (Hmmmm.  That didn't sound right.)

Happy Thanksgiving to all!!

Wednesday, November 23, 2011

WORDLESS WEDNESDAY: Life is Good!

                


Any More Guesses?

My brain after telling just one
lie is unraveling!
Thanks to all who left their guesses in the comment section of my previous post!  It has been interesting to see which of these, so far, totally true elements of my life were so doubted.  After my wife and I moved back to Wisconsin I discovered with a shock that the compilation of my various experiences, as I related bits and pieces to my new coworkers, was coming across as highly unlikely.  I had known some "BSers" in my life, people who just made up one crazy story after another and still kept a straight face, but realizing that some of the guys thought I was in that category was stunning.  Hasn't everybody been beat up on the south side of Chicago, molested in a seminary, picking up chicks at their mother's funeral, taking a helicopter to work every day, sitting on a jury of a rape trial in Alaska, rolling a bus in a ditch, working day after day in horizontal rain storms?  And all of that was completed 20 years ago, before we started collecting more stories back in Wisconsin.


My tales are not so very 'crazy' maybe, but they are widely varied.  The list below, copied from my previous post, is really only a small hand full from the grab bag of my life's events.  Here I have marked all of the ones that were guessed at, and a few of the more obviously true.  Care for another go at the remainder before I reveal which one is the lie?  There are nine possibilities left open.  Also, please let me know which one you would like to hear more about.



TRUE          As a boy I was once dragged into a gangway and robbed by two kids.  When I cried, they let me keep my Mom's $5.00 and said they would come to my house to teach me how to fight (I'm still waiting).

TRUE          Sitting on our porch roof in Chicago throwing dirt clods at  passing trucks seemed like the most natural thing to do.

I went to the Bozo's Circus TV show in Chicago...when I was in seventh grade.  When my teacher read my note, she was kind enough to keep my secret.

TRUE          The day we moved from Chicago to Genoa City Wisconsin, our old house was broken into and my shotgun was stolen.  (Mom laughed at herself because they bypassed all of her jewelry, but ran off with a large jar full of pennies!)

TRUE          If every teenager should have something they are really good at, my confidence was built by mastering the unicycle.

TRUE          When a guy at my boarding school high school asked me if I "had any rubbers", I said "Yeah, but they're back home. They're the kind with buckles."

TRUE          They say basketball is a "non-contact" sport but I managed to break my collar bone into three pieces during a  game against our school rivals.

TRUE          Once I accidentally set my neighbor's garbage pile on fire, but refused to admit it (OK, so I just admitted it.).


After I was the final graduate of my high school class, the building was sold to the state and turned into a prison.

During final exams as a college Freshman, I taught myself to juggle instead of studying.

TRUE          Never having heard the Gospel during four years of Catholic seminary, I finally got the message, and repented, at a public college.

I wore tights and an old curtain as part of a college class ("I auditioned for this?").

TRUE          After I invited a co-ed to my room to play cards, she later told me about her collection of Playgirl magazines. THEN I realized that she hadn't expected to play cards.


When driving from Wisconsin to Alaska, my car died in the middle of British Columbia.  I sold the car for the price of the tow to the bus station.

TRUE          Once my ankle was grabbed by a hook and cable from a hovering helicopter.

TRUE          I played a jazzed up version of Amazing Grace on my saxophone, standing on a floating dock in a remote bay on the third largest island in the US.

In Alaska, I lived one summer in a tent on a platform I built over a creek.

TRUE          When cutting down giant Spruce trees, they sometimes get snagged in another tree.  My solution?  Dynamite.

TRUE          I met a beautiful girl at my Mother's funeral, and married her.

TRUE          I skinny dipped in the Pacific Ocean off of Alaska, and still managed to have three great (non blue) kids!

TRUE          A friend committed suicide on my birthday.  I found the gun on the beach, but must have walked right past his body in the dark.


TRUE          I was sued for ruining a couple's sex life.

TRUE          With good cause, I shoveled snow from my deck, up onto the roof overhead.

I lived in southeast Alaska (the salmon capital of the world) for nine years and only caught one salmon.

TRUE          Two restaurants have burned down the day after my wife and I had dinner there.

TRUE          When I fell off a roof and landed on the sidewalk below, my first words were "They said it was inevitable."

Since I bought my first car in 1978, a '73 Maverick , I have owned over 30 different vehicles, averaging about 1 per year!

I once had the opportunity to tell my wife that even her uterus was cute (And no, I did not let the opportunity go to waste.).

TRUE          I have never tasted coffee in my life.

TRUE          From the middle of Wisconsin I somehow became a joiner, and have done high-end finish carpentry on multi-million dollar yachts that hang out at Monaco.

WAY TRUE          Even as such a............ man, I have become super proud, Grampa Mike!

Sunday, November 20, 2011

Hardly Surprising or Heartily Surprising

I tried to think of the many times I've been surprised in my life, but could not come up with a decent list.  More often than not, apparently, I have been able to figure out what's coming, or else I learned early on than just about anything is possible.  So instead of listing the times I have felt surprised, I came up with the following list of things that have either happened to me or that I have done, which in retrospect, are kind of surprising!  


But to make it one step closer to interesting, I worked and worked at coming up with one lie to add to this list.  Which item is the lie?


As a boy I was once dragged into a gangway and robbed by two kids.  When I cried, they let me keep my Mom's $5.00 and said they would come to my house to teach me how to fight (I'm still waiting).

Sitting on our porch roof in Chicago throwing dirt clods at  passing trucks seemed like the most natural thing to do.

I went to the Bozo's Circus TV show in Chicago...when I was in seventh grade.  When my teacher read my note, she was kind enough to keep my secret.



The day we moved from Chicago to Genoa City Wisconsin, our old house was broken into and my shotgun was stolen.  (Mom laughed at herself because they bypassed all of her jewelry, but ran off with a large jar full of pennies!)

If every teenager should have something they are really good at, my confidence was built by mastering the unicycle.

When a guy at my boarding school high school asked me if I "had any rubbers", I said "Yeah, but they're back home. They're the kind with buckles."

They say basketball is a "non-contact" sport but I managed to break my collar bone into three pieces during a  game against our school rivals.

Once I accidentally set my neighbor's garbage pile on fire, but refused to admit it (OK, so I just admitted it.).


After I was the final graduate of my high school class, the building was sold to the state and turned into a prison.


During final exams as a college Freshman, I taught myself to juggle instead of studying.

Never having heard the Gospel during four years of Catholic seminary, I finally got the message, and repented, at a public college.

I wore tights and an old curtain as part of a college class ("I auditioned for this?").

After I invited a co-ed to my room to play cards, she later told me about her collection of Playgirl magazines. THEN I realized that she hadn't expected to play cards.


When driving from Wisconsin to Alaska, my car died in the middle of British Columbia.  I sold the car for the price of the tow to the bus station.



Once my ankle was grabbed by a hook and cable from a hovering helicopter.

I played a jazzed up version of Amazing Grace on my saxophone, standing on a floating dock in a remote bay on the third largest island in the US.

In Alaska, I lived one summer in a tent on a platform I built over a creek.

When cutting down giant Spruce trees, they sometimes get snagged in another tree.  My solution?  Dynamite.

I met a beautiful girl at my Mother's funeral, and married her.


I skinny dipped in the Pacific Ocean off of Alaska, and still managed to have three great (non blue) kids!

A friend committed suicide on my birthday.  I found the gun on the beach, but must have walked right past his body in the dark.


I was sued for ruining a couple's sex life.

With good cause, I shoveled snow from my deck, up onto the roof overhead.

I lived in southeast Alaska (the salmon capital of the world) for nine years and only caught one salmon.

Two restaurants have burned down the day after my wife and I had dinner there.

When I fell off a roof and landed on the sidewalk below, my first words were "They said it was inevitable."

Since I bought my first car in 1978, a '73 Maverick , I have owned over 30 different vehicles, averaging about 1 per year!

I once had the opportunity to tell my wife that even her uterus was cute (And no, I did not let the opportunity go to waste.).

I have never tasted coffee in my life.

From the middle of Wisconsin I somehow became a joiner, and have done high-end finish carpentry on multi-million dollar yachts that hang out at Monaco.

Even as such a young man, I have become super proud, Grampa Mike! OK so there are two lies in this list..

Sunday, November 6, 2011

Snot Bubble Stunts and Social Development

Not everyone can perform all of the classic Snot Bubble stunts.  Sure, your basic first grader with the sniffles can pull off the standard carbon dioxide filled mucous coated vesicle, but it takes an experienced fourth or fifth grader to percolate a Double Dandy Dripple Dopper.  This is common knowledge.  Most of us failed to achieve any noteworthy nostril spume until well into our thirties or forties, and even then it took a glass of milk and a good joke.  So what does this tell us regarding the Nature vs. Nurture debate?

Obviously, only those born with the particular combination of bronchial/nasal/distasteful genes can discharge expert level SB stunts without even trying, and at an early age.  Yet others, not so gifted, can learn to transfuse as well as the nasal prodigy might, if only they inflate their efforts.  We are each born with a particular set of genes that dictate not our final level of accomplishment, but merely our potential for ascendancy.  It is the nurturing of the inherent traits that actually controls the outcome.  The child who spends hours in front of the mirror huffing allergens and puffing muculent, will no doubt be an Olympic contender when the sport is finally recognized sometime in a future century.  And in the short term, among his peers (if not his parents), he or she will rise to the top of the social hierarchy.

Ultimately, whether your particular skills were inborn and simply uncovered, or sought after and captured in diligence, is immaterial.  The application of your many talents matters more than their genesis.  Will you use your vast array of strengths and experience to advance your own well-being?  Or will these well honed gifts, whether natural or nurtured, go to enhance the development of society at large?

Saturday, November 5, 2011

Snot Bubble Stunts Social Development

Just waiting for the theme to be posted so I can fit it to this wonderful post title!

prompted by this great article: http://www.genepooldiva.com/2011/11/snot-bubble-stunts-social-developement.html