It is recommended that you visit a #dentist for a cleaning & check-up at least twice a year!
Considering we are almost in October, it's important you book yourself in ASAP!
Give us a call today & get your #NoGap clean & check #free of charge if you're registered with a health care clinic! 👇 📞 (02) 9601 7534
📍 Suite 20-21/67 Elizabeth Dr, Liverpool NSW 2170
Hola! We're now serving @papapalheta Rume Sudan from the lovely Coffea Diversa in Biolley, Costa Rica, for our specialty coffee. Along with its rich dark chocolate flavour, each cup will surely delight your taste buds with complimenting notes of cherries and sultanas!
Да, я ни разу не пожалела о том, что ушла из медицинского. Нет, я не тупею в новом университете, не работаю в Птичке за копейки и не жду, когда в будущем буду сидеть на шее у мужа, находясь в бесконечном поиске хорошей работы✌️// #vsco#vscocam#vscorussia
My Name is Lucy Barton is subtly powerful in conveying the minutiae of human relationships, particularly the relationship between an estranged mother and daughter. Initially, I was not captivated by the mundanity of the hospital situation. How much can you possibly write about the bleakness and melancholy that such an environment evokes? We get it. Hospitals suck. But as the novel progresses, Lucy narrates, rather poetically (did anyone pick up on the anadiplosis and the rhythmic-like sentences; the apostrophes and the epistrophes?!), memories from childhood, growing up rurally and facing the sting of social judgment: ““Your family stinks.””, the isolation and the bare stomachs and the need to be frugal just to survive. So, the story of Lucy Barton is the story of writing, the narrating of her story and her relationship with her mother. Her yearning for ‘Mommy’ is almost a primordial yearning and a yearning that I think many might feel at some point in life. When Lucy wakes up in the hospital (after having her appendix removed and amidst further complications) to find her mother sitting at the foot of her bed, the conversation begins and the need for Lucy to just have her Mom around evolves into wanting her to take an interest in her life: “I dozed on and off listening to my mother’s voice. I thought: All I want is this. But it turned out I wanted something else. I wanted my mother to ask about my life. I wanted to tell her about the life I was living now.” Conversation in
the hospital centres around her mother’s preoccupation with a little bit of gossip and recounting, about memories, about Elvis. And whilst they talk about these things freely, they evade the questions that
Lucy so deeply wishes to talk about – her career as a writer, her family, her here and now. Alongside the hospital setting, which operates nicely in the periphery, like a nurse coming in to check your pulse and meds, Lucy conveys snippets of her marriage, vignettes of her doctor and her teacher, Sarah Payne. Strout’s writing is sparse, but deeply resonant. We feel like it is, indeed, the writer, Lucy Barton telling us her story. **CONT’D in comments**
One of the coolest things about my job is sometimes I get to travel. This last year, I have gotten to see so many places!It has been amazing! Here are some places on my wish list to go speak at:
♡ San Francisco
What places are on your wish list to visit?#travelcute