Citizen and troubadour – fighting for life and love of the people of Earth. The purpose of this blog is not to create information. It just relay the one that seems interesting to your understanding of the world. virus death, we rely a layer today. It is true that such viruses should not be, in this case, WS demand its immediate destruction. The discovery of the virus. we call the "Virusator" made the rounds of the media, and indeed very worrying at the dawn of a third world war, a war that will take place, and has already partially started. filter in the newspapers in recent days and that on December 7, on-air Inter, Easily put this process Behind the house, a path that leads down the valley to the banks of the river, strong and wild, that rate meals and comforts the soul. A river as there was so much. More than a natural element is a partner in the lives of people who have settled there for her. A river with its source to thousands of sites here that will jump into an ocean that many here will never visited. A river lined with pine trees and grass paradise of birds share with humans need more than happy to catch their meal. The few potatoes and leeks that gave the dry land is a consolation for the family that lives Mortome disability pension from the father and food stamps. These coupons, although covering the nutritional needs of the family do not allow a mad culinary creativity. Pasta, grains, rice succeed with the only element of change fish and herbs that the father brings his Sunday excursions. When the herbs are dry, the game season begins, and the eldest brings to the table the game he gets in return for small services rendered. Game he cut, he prepared and dried. The life of Mortome is simple, in fact, but a life of love and sharing, where everyone brings what they can. There, among the cows and meadows, as Sid grows, toddler dark as to appear sinister. The low forehead, the eye flight, he from an early age the power of attraction of his peers that he inspires not they can explain, respect and an immediate quote. Strange boy games prefers to lose the ball for long hours in the forest, which feels closer to critters that swarm on the ground and dig the land of those who dedicate an unwavering friendship. A boy who became a young man with the seasons, tied to nature, growing up with his family and keeps its distance from the other. Sid intrigue and fascination, as it seems to be here and abroad, timeless, almost disembodied, do not need anyone to ride his hump and shaping his own image. The church and the home office close are the two pillars that will shape its existence. The church is stone carved in the rocks of the valley. It is big enough to remind parishioners they pass stealth landowner and small enough to be used as a cement company that has remained as to where left. Family Mortome spends his Sundays and holidays to rent an intimate and distant God. This is where Sid listening. He listens and hears a message that resonates in him a message attachment, dependence, continuity and construction. The church is large enough that it fits through small and small enough to cement it in him the stones of the path of belief that it will draw throughout his life. The home office near him, is placed at the edge of a field. It was originally an old converted cow shed, by necessity, this meeting place administratively. A building sheet, painfully heated in winter, cooled in summer by the wind that passes through the gaping holes in its structure. Sid spends long hours to hear her mother's deliberate on the fate of the family in front of an assistant judge who poses as intransigent. The assistant there is in session once a month, she listens, she noted, it rules. It is the way from the city, eager to return is unconscious of the extent of its presence for a few families who cling to her as a buoy, exhausted to swim, to fight, to survive. Tired most of the assistance, necessary evil, without which the bills would remain a dead letter and pride would be jeopardized. The poverty of the home, Sid knows, is due to lack of work. His father, who can no longer ply his trade as a cabinetmaker after an allergy to sawdust fell into a depression mystique. His mother must stay home to care for this man shadow. All this lack of work inspires the young Sid a thirst for knowledge. From an early age, it reads and it is carried out. Collection and size of wood, fire, maintenance, masonry, electrical, plumbing, construction, hunting, cutting and preservation of meat are his daily life. This is a late ornithologist, he knows and follows the life of every bird's nest, which he extracted eggs or chicks leisure to study them closely. Sid works. Sid helps his father too. Aware of the cost to the trappings of a fisherman, he reduces his needs, by providing chicks dead and badly decomposed that his father's home instead of bait industry much less effective. The larger size of the lure, and the number of worms in these small bodies to ensure a steady income Mortome beautiful and big fresh fish. Thus, the trip provides them with weekly patriarchal enough fish to eat healthily but just until the next mass. Mortome senior had several fishing grounds along the river, with time, season and water flow. One of his favorite places was also one of the hardest to reach. Thus, and this is also why he chose, he was still there alone. The place, a clearing in the thick rows of trees and bushes, was safe from observation through large boulders that lined the river, winding here and capricious, taking turns moult before falling several meters. The deafening noise of the water bursting and tearing on rocks and the white captive air water met to create a spectacular place, shunned by men and loved animals. The father spent a long afternoon, dismissing the young fish to keep only the largest, making the nature made coupons the work she was not perfect. One Sunday afternoon when the sun began its descent, and when he had not been particularly successful with fish, Mortome senior s'aperçu his bunch of chicks shrinking faster than usual. These chicks, he laid still behind a rock in the shade, and he had to take what he needed whenever he was installing a new line. But it seemed that someone else had come to pick that day. Mortome senior said that it must be one of the cats that roamed the area, and as he was getting cold, he went home, leaving the chicks there for the cat to finish his meal. At its next fishing trip, he had almost forgotten history of the cat, then lots of chicks has started to shrink. Always thinking it was a cat, let him do Mortome senior, and return home to share the story of his encounter with his family around a steaming bowl of fish soup. Thus was he every Sunday for weeks, senior Mortome go fishing with his bunch of chicks, the pile of chicks which shrank, and the hypothetical cat that did not show. Until one Sunday late in the season, where senior Mortome could hardly stay more than a few hours fishing before the night falls. By the time he was preparing to launch a new line in the river which was a generous mood, he heard a slight noise behind him, as a step on dry leaves. Thinking that he was finally able to meet his chat, he turned slowly to avoid frightening the animal. He felt a great surprise seeing that he was not a kitten, but a creature as tall as a young child, dressed in a cape strange, wild movements and hungry. Far from being afraid, senior Mortome was immediately moved with pity for this strange little creature, and came to him. But the creature with sharp teeth dripping with blood, feathers on the chin and chicks in their hands, returned in the shade of trees. Not wanting to frighten the creature Mortome senior returned to his lines that fell with patience as the reflections of light on the water darkened gradually. On returning home, cleaning the fish, told his senior Mortome afternoon at his family incredulous but curious. He then promised to try to tame the creature and bring them home, because this creature was like them a creature of God and they had to deal with it if she was hungry or cold. The taming of the creature was not easy. Mortome senior took care to always have a pile of bodies large enough to meet its needs for bait with a nice subject for the creature. So for months, while the reflections on the river were longer and more clear, Mortome senior began to see his Sunday outing more like an appointment with her. He abandoned his other fishing grounds and devoted himself exclusively to that when he met this being which he had begun to feel responsible. During this time, as it often goes with tame them, including several senior Mortome things about the subject of his attachment. First, he feared the light as it moved only in the shade of pine trees and rocks and is covered more fully in its dark cape. Then it should be since carnivore vegetables brought by senior Mortome remained intact. The only thing he wanted was to eat the chicks. Perhaps it was due to the habits he had taken before they met, in any case, any attempt to vary the menu failed. Then the creature would live not far from this place because the senior Mortome felt closer when he put his front line. Usually the creature was a good time lurking in the shadows before approaching what had become a larder, the pile of chicks behind the rock. She took care to use at times when Mortome senior was busy, even if over time it became less and less silent. She devoured the bodies strongly noises emitting from time to time a sharp little cry of pleasure, very guttural, and punctuating his meal sucements and cracking of bones and cartilage. Mortome senior took pleasure in listening to this song of greed, and said he did well to deal with this creature who seemed to have much need of him now.