Hand Tufted, Oriental, Area & Persian Rugs

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Looking for info on rugs safavieh, home dynamix rugs, oriental area rug, gabbeh persian rugs and more?

Okay so my cat has been pregnant for roughly 2 months or so… what are the signs that she will be going into labor…

Right now she is always sleeping..
She walks a tiny bit then plops on her side and sleeps(NO matter where she is)
Eating alot…
Really lovey… and she is not normally like that…
Following me around quite a bit…
she keeps wanting to sleep on my bathroom rugs 24/7…
I cant see any momevent yet but when i lightly place my hand on her belly i can feel it… and it is pretty strong…

i just want to know when to expect it… i want to say she got pregnant… begginging to midle of may… she is constantly walking around the house and doesnt seems to want to go outside much anymore… and she is very pissy towards my dog which they have never been that way before… and she looks very uncomfortable… i just really want an idea as to how soon it is going to be??? Like days??? Hours??? lol… and is there anything extra we can do to help her… we have 3 different areas set up that are for her to give birth… bathroom… laundry room… and our closet…
And all she does now is sleep constantly

I live in the Everglades and it’s been raining a lot lately so I figured this would happen.

I lifted a rug and this thing jumped out on my hand and then ran away. He scared the living daylights out of me. He keeps running under my bed. My cat keeps hanging out under my bed but unfortunately his hunting skills are lacking.

I have no problem with wildlife, just not in my room. How can I get this thing out of my room?
I never said I hated wildlife. I see alligators and python snakes around here all the time and it doesn’t bother me. I just don’t want salamanders in my room. I have palmetto bugs as it is

Hitting my knee on my desk when I get up from my chair, stubbing my toe, tripping on the area rug or down the stairs, banging my hand on a chair or a doorway while in a hurry… I
never seem to see that it about to happen,until after. Maybe, I just don’t pay attention where I’m going? But, I always seem to have bruises on my arm, elbow and knees. I just don’t keep track of how they get there anymore. I not always clumsy. I usually don’t drop things and I have good balance. It seems that I lack the ability to move around safely in both personal and general space.
Any advice, comments, suggestions?

Okay so my cat has been pregnant for roughly 2 months or so… what are the signs that she will be going into labor…

Right now she is always sleeping..
She walks a tiny bit then plops on her side and sleeps(NO matter where she is)
Eating alot…
Really lovey… and she is not normally like that…
Following me around quite a bit…
she keeps wanting to sleep on my bathroom rugs 24/7…
I cant see any momevent yet but when i lightly place my hand on her belly i can feel it… and it is pretty strong…

i just want to know when to expect it… i want to say she got pregnant… begginging to midle of may… she is constantly walking around the house and doesnt seems to want to go outside much anymore… and she is very pissy towards my dog which they have never been that way before… and she looks very uncomfortable… i just really want an idea as to how soon it is going to be??? Like days??? Hours??? lol… and is there anything extra we can do to help her… we have 3 different areas set up that are for her to give birth… bathroom… laundry room… and our closet…

Help. Me.
I have two 6ft rugs, one is one of those extremely heavy turnouts for those cold winter nights, you know the ones that don’t need to be layered at all because they are soo heavy and cosy! How can I wash this? I want to HAND WASH it, I’m not bringing them to the laundrette and I can’t possibly fit them into my washing machine :/

Also, I have another lighter turnout rug, which is just used for cold nights in the stable, its no where near as heavy as the other one, but still needs washed badly!

How can I wash them both? and insure they are dried! I don’t want them going all smelly and stuff like wet clothes do if you leave them out D: eww.

So yeah, Please help guys!
Thankyouuuu

This is the opening to my novel. If it’s badly written, or dull, I want to know. Or does it slowly draw you in (there’s not an obvious hook, I know). Grammar, sentence construction and structure – I want to know what you think. Please be honest. Thank you!

She laid out the colourful skeins of embroidery threads in systematic rows according to colour, shade and depth, until the surface of the table was covered in gleaming silks. An inch of pale oak separated the groups of assorted skeins so the table was now a luminous patchwork, the blocks of colour vivid in the shabby room. In the corner, her mother, still agile, was kneeling hunched over the shears as they sliced through fabric, faded soft cotton-lawn pyjamas, crisp cotton skirts long since outgrown, the fronts and backs and sleeves of her dead husband’s well-worn shirts, confidently cutting triangles, rectangles, squares and diamonds, all by eye. Her mother did not cut curves. The overall design and pattern was achieved by arranging precise geometric shapes only. If a curve were required she would combine rectangles, triangles and squares, overlapping where necessary (which only added substance to the quilting) to give the clever illusion of a gradual arc. But the component parts were always precisely cut angular shapes. She was not an artist. She couldn’t draw a likeness with pencil or paint but she could work coloured threads and fabric expertly by hand using tiny stitches meticulously placed with the dual purpose of joining together the small pieces of fabric in pleasing colour combinations by means of intricate hand quilting on the reverse that was decorative and unique.
They worked silently, concentrating on their tasks. The only sounds the steady familiar rasp of the scissors’ rhythmic action and the gentle hiss and crackle of the ray-burn stove, it’s humid warmth permeating the room. Daisy, the daughter, wants to be only that – her mother’s daughter, at this moment, on this day. Today, and over the last few days, she is seeking a return to something she has lost. Her mother instinctively knows this – there has been little conversation between them – and the stillness is comforting to them both.
Having finished sorting the skeins of thread, Daisy sits gazing at all the myriad colours laid on the table. She takes her time choosing three toning shades of crimson and tucks them swiftly up her sleeve. She rises and pads across the worn flagstones to the door at the far edge of the room. With a fleeting glance towards her mother she snibs the door quietly shut and tiptoes up the stairs to her room. It is not really her room but the room where she has recently stayed, here, at her mother’s house. Now, because it alone is unchanged in her life, it feels more familiar to her than any other room, anywhere.
The bed with its cold iron frame could remind her of school, but doesn’t – the quilt, chequered with brilliant azure and blues from duck egg to clear turquoise, trellis-stitched with hundreds of deep blue diamond-shaped pillows, removes any association there might have been. She wonders if her mother knows how fashionable the room is now, the original time-darkened boards varnished and scattered with two well-worn rugs. A pine chest sits under the sloping planes of the window recess, and on it stands an old French mirror, framed by ornate gilding that is chipped and flaking. Daisy opens one of the small drawers and pulls it fully out till it meets the stop. She bends her wrist upwards to stretch her fingers towards the back, feeling for the tapestry needle and the small pair of needlework scissors, stuck to the underside of the top of the chest with sticky tape, that she had hidden there years before. They’re still there, as she knew they would be. She puts the needle between her teeth and with the scissors dangling from one finger, lifts the mirror and places it on the floor to one side of the window recess. She puts the scissors and the three skeins of silk next to it on the floor. Crossing over to the bed, she tugs at the quilt and drags it across the boards to where daylight floods the room. She lays it carefully on the floor and, sitting cross-legged, drapes the quilt over her knees and now she’s inside a cosy envelope. She takes the needle from her lips and places it carefully on the floating table of multicoloured silk that tents across her knees. Her hair is tucked behind her ears in a swift unconscious movement. She shifts forward to where daylight hits the mirror and peers at her image as, one by one she begins to remove her piercings.

Asalamalakum

After I said my Shahada a friend of mine gave me a prayer rug and prayer beads. I understand that the prayer beads are to help guide you, but I am confused as to how to use them or what to say when using them. Also, someone told me it is better to use your right hand fingers instead of the beads bc your fingers will testify for you that you prayed. Can anyone please clarify for me which is correct? and what exactly should I be saying when I am using them? Is is Allahu Akbar? or Alhamdulillah? or anything else??

Thank you! )

my sil has not been able to have a baby after neing married for some years, so i sympathize. However, my mil has been constantly pushing my son over to her, trying to create some kind of bond between them i feel. Family events, i dont get to hold him much to show him off, he almost immediately gets taken out of my hands by my parents in law, then handed over to my sis in law. Which would last for hours or until he cries. I sit with an emoty stroller by my side, which makes me kinda sad. And my parents in law almost oftentimes talk to my son abt her, keep mentioning her basically. And then, they had a big blowup when my husband tells them to inform me when taking him out of the house (they live with us), even just to take him out to the park, as i kinda will be like "hey, where’s my baby?" and then feel kinda upset., like the rug was pulled out frm under me, as i would like to know where he is at all times, and even more upset that they just let my sis in law take him downstairs without telling me. And even when they did ask me, when sis in law wanted to take him downstairs, she and her husband, without my knowledge, also drove him around a short distance. They had also wanted to drive him to someplace for a short while, but he is v attached to me so i am afraid he would cry. To that, they thought of FIL, whom he is reasonably ok with, to come along. No extention of invitation to the mother? Anyway, just didnt like him being driving distance-far from me, which has never been done before. They didnt even ask me directly, just mediated through my mil. Whom is a domineering character, so they mostly look to her for permission with my baby, or carry out her suggestions made to them like abt taking my baby out nearby. All of which make me quite upset, I dont know. Am i overreacting?
baby is 1 yr old

Which of these do you experience more often?
The Perfect Dump
Every once in a while everyone experiences the perfect dump. It’s rare but a real thing of beauty. You sit down expecting the worse, but what you get is a smooth sliding, fart-less masterpiece that breaks the water with the splash-less grace of an Olympic high-diving champion. You use the toilet tissue to find that it was totally unnecessary. It makes you feel that all is right in the world and that you are in perfect harmony with it.

The Beer Dump
Nasty! Depends upon the dumper’s tolerance and is the result of too many beers – doesn’t matter if it was 2 or 22. What you get is a sinister, lengthy, noisy dump accompanied by an odious malevolent fog that could close the bathroom for days. Naked flames are ill advised…..

The Chilli Dump (aka The Japanese Flag)
Hot when it goes in and napalm when it comes out. It stays with you all day stinging yer ring and generally making your choccie starfish feel like the Shuttle’s heat shield. Also makes your @ss look like "a Japanese Flag."

The Empty Roll Dump
Relief – you’ve finished and reach for the tissue only to find an empty cardboard cylinder staring back at you. Panic overcomes you. You could use the curtains but then someone would ask "where are the curtains?" Use the rug? Nah, too bulky and cumbersome. You then come to the same conclusion that every "empty roll dumper" must face…..pull up yer kecks tighten yer cheeks and shuffle yourself to the nearest loo roll. Failing that you could always use your shirt-tail or one of your socks!

The Splash Back Dump
This one drops like a depth charge creating a column of cold water that washes your sphincter with a startlingly unpleasant shock. Now you’re wet – and embarrassed if the column of water went half way up your back. Tip of the day: blot instead of wiping.

The Childbirth Dump
This one is just too big to go through the aperture provided by nature for this purpose. You sit there thinking over your dilemma. First it hurts, and then gets no better. You sweat violently and wonder if you’ll ever see your loved ones again. You imagine the newspaper headlines screaming "Man dies trying to hatch monster loaf!" There are only three things you can do: 1. Scream 2. Call an Obstetrician 3. Hope like crazy you’ve got some Vaseline to help you get through it.

The Machine Gun Dump
Best utilized in public conveniences. You sit there in sublime peace when suddenly you emit a group of noisy gassy bursts that break the tranquility like machine gun fire. The guy in the next cubicle hits the floor like a Vietnam veteran, cradling his umbrella like a M16….dang commies.

The Sound Effect Dump
You feel a noisy one coming on but relatives, friends or work mates are within earshot. So, you must employ some clever techniques to cover the disgusting sounds you are about to emit. Timing is of the essence. At the precise moment of release, try the following: 1. Flush the toilet 2. Drop loose change on the floor, 3. Sing the first two stanzas of your favorite opera.

The Cling-On Dump
You’ve finished but there’s one dang morsel that refuses to drop. You grip the seat with both hands and wriggle. You twist and pump but the little bastard just hangs there, suspended, clinging like a canned peach between you and the water below. If only you had some scissors…….

The Whole Roll Dump
No matter how much you wipe, it just isn’t enough. You blow the whole roll and have to flush at least a dozen times. The whole episode is consumer waste. Eventually if your toilet paper runs into minimal supply anything will do, towels, wash clothes, carpet, walls, whatever it takes.

The Encore Dump
Ahhh, you’ve done, so you wipe, dress, flush, wash hands and are about to leave the auditorium when you feel another dump coming on. You must therefore return for a curtain call. The world record is seven encores…..

The Houdini Dump
You go, you stand to flush and it has disappeared! Did it creep down the pipe or did you dream the whole thing? Should you flush? Oh yes as you can guarantee that if you don’t, it will reappear and smile at the next person who comes in.

………………..

So have a seat, and take a few moments to enjoy the ever-so-glorious sensation of a nice BM. Wipe well. Don’t forget to wash your hands, otherwise the poop fairies will munch on your fingers.

Happy sh!tting!

First of all, this is not a joke, a prank, or a hoax. I’m not seeking attention. This is what happened last night: I was asleep on the couch, my eyes were shut, and I was in the darkness. Then, I thought I was awake, and I felt my dad grab hold of my hands. I could feel the warmth and the pressure of him holding my hands. He said "Its allright buddy, its only me". Then, I looked and saw that he was asleep on his couch. And, I thought if he is on the couch, who is holding my hands?
All of a sudden, I experienced obstruction of vocalization (not being able to speak, only whimper), and facial disfigrement (feeling like I had lock jaw). I was paralyzed and immobile. It felt like someone or something was bending my hands backwards. Then, I felt someone pulling my rug up to my neck and a hand on my shoulder. Again, I thought it was my dad, but it wasn’t. Then, I re-entered the same state as before. Is this a demonic possession? Do I need an exorcist?
Please don’t say that I have schizophrenia, because I don’t. And I’m already on Thorazine. I think this was an evil entity who is resentful of my spiritual progress towards the light. They can only attack when your eyes are closed and you are in the darkness. They are gutless cowards. They cannot stand in the light. And just to clarify: THIS WAS NOT A DREAM. I look forward to hearing your replies. Thank You for your time.

yes i know its a little long, but it is definitely worth a read

here it is:

Without love, without respect
he came for me.
I remember every second;
a crystal clear picture in my mind,
as if it was yesterday.
I lay on the ground,
ear to the smooth wood,
trying to hear the voices that speak in hushed tones,
just past my bedroom door.
The night goes on.
There were footsteps, and then a knock.
“Take her,” were the words of my father;
his last words to me, the very last.
Not a sound came out of my mouth.
I understood what was going to happen to me:
it was time.

He pushed me through the door,
my stubby fingers reaching for your hand,
but it was too far.
Your cries ring out;
they pierce through the air.
A slap,
and the cries heard no longer.
Tears form crystals on your cheeks,
they drop down your face,
onto the silk blouse you hold so dear to your heart.
They stand out like splotches of paint
on a piece of blank white paper.

I left you that night,
I left everything:
the warmth of my bed as I slipped under the covers each night,
the sizzling of fried eggs
and the drip drop of the coffee brewing in the mornings,
the friendly smell of the house as I stepped through the door.
Your face was the last thing I saw in that house.
Not the mailbox carved into the door,
or the full-length mirror that hung on the wall.
But you, my last memory.

Now a new home waits for me
to return to the safety of its shelter every day.
It waits for me to come home,
to walk on its tile floors
that send shivers up my spine.
It waits for me to use its kitchen,
and sleep in its beds,
to gaze out its windows,
and enjoy the comfort of the living room
as I talk to family and friends.
But I do not enjoy it.
I do not enjoy my life here.
I do not enjoy the constant thoughts buzzing through my head;
wondering when I will get out,
wondering if I will get out.

The rugs lay waiting for me,
ready to comfort my fall
when the fire ignites inside of him.
I make a mistake, and bam!
A slap hits me hard across the face.
I want to stop it, but I am afraid.
I am afraid of what he will do to me;
it might only make matters worse.
I am reminded of you;
of the days when I was a child.
I watched you toil and sweat
From dusk ‘til dawn,
never without a smile between those full, rose-colored cheeks.
But when he came home
and stepped through those doors,
tears streamed down your face;
they streamed down mine.
I could do nothing.
I could say nothing.
Those were the rules.

For years on end I have lived this life,
like an ignored servant girl
waiting for her master to call for her.
I didn’t even smile as I walked down the aisle.
I frowned, dreading the moment
when I would become his slave,
the wedding bells masked by the sound
of an auctioneer’s gavel hitting the podium
after a sale has been made.

The kitchen window never goes a day without
staring at the eyes of a daydreamer,
who peers out through the thick film of dirt
that has formed on the window-pane over the years.
I dream of the day when I can leave this place;
The walls concealing me from the world
just outside the door.
Things are happening,
The times are changing.
He can’t keep me in here forever.
For years I have waited for you,
I have waited for you to come.
You have not come yet.
But I will find you.
Yes momma, that is my promise.
To find my way back to your loving arms,
to the smell of your perfume
as I wake up each morning,
your comforting words ready to shower down on me
in times of trouble and despair.

Now I stand here with you,
holding your hand as the sun sets,
the pearly white gates shining in the distance
that will forever welcome people into their home.
I have found you momma,
I have found you.
And I will never let you go again.

yes i know its a little long, but it is definitely worth a read

here it is:

Without love, without respect
he came for me.
I remember every second;
a crystal clear picture in my mind,
as if it was yesterday.
I lay on the ground,
ear to the smooth wood,
trying to hear the voices that speak in hushed tones,
just past my bedroom door.
The night goes on.
There were footsteps, and then a knock.
“Take her,” were the words of my father;
his last words to me, the very last.
Not a sound came out of my mouth.
I understood what was going to happen to me:
it was time.

He pushed me through the door,
my stubby fingers reaching for your hand,
but it was too far.
Your cries ring out;
they pierce through the air.
A slap,
and the cries heard no longer.
Tears form crystals on your cheeks,
they drop down your face,
onto the silk blouse you hold so dear to your heart.
They stand out like splotches of paint
on a piece of blank white paper.

I left you that night,
I left everything:
the warmth of my bed as I slipped under the covers each night,
the sizzling of fried eggs
and the drip drop of the coffee brewing in the mornings,
the friendly smell of the house as I stepped through the door.
Your face was the last thing I saw in that house.
Not the mailbox carved into the door,
or the full-length mirror that hung on the wall.
But you, my last memory.

Now a new home waits for me
to return to the safety of its shelter every day.
It waits for me to come home,
to walk on its tile floors
that send shivers up my spine.
It waits for me to use its kitchen,
and sleep in its beds,
to gaze out its windows,
and enjoy the comfort of the living room
as I talk to family and friends.
But I do not enjoy it.
I do not enjoy my life here.
I do not enjoy the constant thoughts buzzing through my head;
wondering when I will get out,
wondering if I will get out.

The rugs lay waiting for me,
ready to comfort my fall
when the fire ignites inside of him.
I make a mistake, and bam!
A slap hits me hard across the face.
I want to stop it, but I am afraid.
I am afraid of what he will do to me;
it might only make matters worse.
I am reminded of you;
of the days when I was a child.
I watched you toil and sweat
From dusk ‘til dawn,
never without a smile between those full, rose-colored cheeks.
But when he came home
and stepped through those doors,
tears streamed down your face;
they streamed down mine.
I could do nothing.
I could say nothing.
Those were the rules.

For years on end I have lived this life,
like an ignored servant girl
waiting for her master to call for her.
I didn’t even smile as I walked down the aisle.
I frowned, dreading the moment
when I would become his slave,
the wedding bells masked by the sound
of an auctioneer’s gavel hitting the podium
after a sale has been made.

The kitchen window never goes a day without
staring at the eyes of a daydreamer,
who peers out through the thick film of dirt
that has formed on the window-pane over the years.
I dream of the day when I can leave this place;
The walls concealing me from the world
just outside the door.
Things are happening,
The times are changing.
He can’t keep me in here forever.
For years I have waited for you,
I have waited for you to come.
You have not come yet.
But I will find you.
Yes momma, that is my promise.
To find my way back to your loving arms,
to the smell of your perfume
as I wake up each morning,
your comforting words ready to shower down on me
in times of trouble and despair.

Now I stand here with you,
holding your hand as the sun sets,
the pearly white gates shining in the distance
that will forever welcome people into their home.
I have found you momma,
I have found you.
And I will never let you go again.

ok im planning on getting a hedgehog but i need info.
1.i have a 2ft by 1ft by 1ft aquarium is that okay or would a larger vivarium be preferred?
2.feeding, what sort of choices can i feed him just veg, or will he need meat aswell, i hear you can feed them dogfood aswell is this true?
3.i was thinking of a substrate and i have a very fluffy uneeded rug is this okay or is something else preferred?
4. handling i want to get one but if i cant get him out and play with it whether its in a hamster ball or in my hand is this okay?
5.legality, i live in the south of the uk, is it legal to keep one?

Hello,
My family recently got what was an 8 week old Newfoundland puppy, which is now 10 weeks old. As most puppies do, she bites, bites, and bites. Anything she sees she has to go try to chew on it. This includes hands, fingers, legs, feet, shoes, rugs, the couch, metal table legs, small lawn decorations, and recently, my 2 year old nephew has become a giant chew toy that runs around. Basically anything you could think of, she tries to chew it. I know it’s a puppy thing, but we are concerned for the safety of my nephew and the safety of the dog. We don’t want her hurting herself trying to chew something made of metal. We have plenty of chew toys for her and those satisfy her chewing habits about half the time. The other half she is running around chewing on things that we don’t think are healthy for her (i.e. the metal table legs, or potted plants, etc). I understand that in time she will lose her puppy teeth but I’m afraid that if we don’t discipline her in a correct fashion, and she continues to bite, she will continue to bite on our hands and legs and whatnot when she is an older dog. I’m looking for advice from EXPERIENCED PET OWNERS AND TRAINERS please. I would like some advice on the situation, like correct ways of discipline, how to handle her chewing. Also, please if you wouldn’t mind giving some information about training her, what age? what to teach? how to correctly perform positive reinforcement? Thank you so much!