Myopia Vs. Presbyopia

Luz Casal. By Begoña corner.

For Great fighters
Begoña Corner is a journalist and now runs the radio station Onda El Espinar.

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my grandmother's voice. By Juan Carlos Gargiulo

I send part of a family treasure: the voice of my grandmother singing Genoa.

She emigrated to Buenos Aires from Savona, Genoa, in the late nineteenth century. The 1967 recording was made by my uncle (now deceased) and is part of a reunion with his brothers, who remember the journey of migrants and their impressions upon arrival in Buenos Aires.

wanted to share this because many people in his memory must have loved the voices of their grandfathers and certainly, as happened to me, appear in dreams, or appear when we hear we sing to ourselves, our children singing the songs we love.


In the picture my grandmother and my grandfather Vicente Nicolas in La Falda, Córdoba, Argentina, surely a spring morning back in the 60's.

Juan Carlos Gargiulo is an architect.

Ap Cellular Respiration

The ENIAC programmers. By Pilar González

time ago I saw the news on television and it caught my attention, telling the story of this group of women whose contributions have contributed to that today we are all "typing" on this wonderful blog.

ENIAC is considered the first general purpose electronic computer (PC). The computer could calculate trajectories of projectiles, which was the primary objective to build it. In 1.5 seconds it was possible to calculate the power 5000 of a number up to 5 digits.

The ENIAC could solve 5,000 additions and 300 multiplications in 1 second.

But the most interesting of all is that, although they were engineers ENIAC, Mauchly and Eckert, who passed into history, there were six women who took care of programming the ENIAC, whose history has been silenced over the years and recovered in recent decades. Then classified as "sub-professionals", possibly due to gender or to reduce labor costs, this team of programmers working stood out as math and logic programming and inventive work as the volunteer. Betty Snyder Holberton , Jean Jennings Bartik , Kathleen McNulty Mauchly Antonelli, Marlyn Wescoff Meltzer , Ruth Lichterman Teitelbaum and Frances Bilas Spence hardly appear in the books of history of computing, but spent long hours working with the machine used primarily for ballistic trajectory calculations and differential equations and contributed the development of computer programming. When the ENIAC went on to become a legendary machine, its engineers were famous, while never gave any credit to these six women who took charge of programming.

Many photographic records of the time show the ENIAC women standing in front of her. Until the 80's, is even said that they were just models posing with the machine ("Refrigerator ladies"). However, these women laid the groundwork for programming was simple and accessible to all, created the first set of routines, the first applications of software and first class in programming. His work changed dramatically the development of programming between the decades of 40 and 50. (Source: wikipedia )

Pilar Alvarez works at home.

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Julia Alvarez. By Carmen Herrero

dedicate this comment to my mother Julia, and by extension to all mothers, being a woman, complete able to call things by their name, without subterfuge or trickery, for teaching me many things about life, to transmit the Catholic faith, believing in equal rights between men and women, and therefore equal obligations in all circumstances of life.

My mother would have 90 years now but I grew up in responsibility, in the love to do things every day.

Carmen Herrero Segovia is

Backyard Ice Rink Cost

Veselina. By Juan Carlos Gargiulo

As every Thursday Veselina, time came to clean the office. While we
working on the project to rehabilitate a house in the Jewry, she was taking things slowly cleaning, vacuuming, wiping cloths, the mop bucket. Outside
spring and had advanced far enough, and the belly of Christ made us dream with Pablito to early summer.

eagerly, Veselina shaking carpets, washing dishes in the kitchen, he rang the engine vacuum. Every now and then his gaze rested on a parcel she had brought and left with her purse and jacket, then next door in the room where we prepare the baby's crib, where Horacio from the vantage point of his bed in the morning skulks is us.

When we stopped for tea at eleven, we chatted for a while lost oxen. Veselina is about the emotion on his face, already has 50 years, it has been 2 times and grandmother emigrated from Bulgaria to Spain for a while. In his hands the packet that holds as the most precious in the world. With their momentum taken unpacks a stack of photos, and there with the sun of the window shows the first such pictures of their grandchildren, their children, her husband and eventually all the older ones, which correspond to his youth, his home, his parents, his brothers, his friends, those of the land left. Through tears and smiles all that is naming its memory structure, in their language home, that we get when our emotion is in a thread ...

We agreed that one day I would like to record on my camera all that just happened, but in reality I know that this moment will not return. Veselina
gave us that magical moment when people very occasionally, we show what we're made.

Juan Carlos Gargiulo is an architect.
http://www.cuentosdemacachines.blogspot.com/

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Maria Gabriela Blanco Luna. By Marta Herrero

Maria Gabriela Luna.

Gabriela Luna.

Gabriela.

Gabi.

Architect. Mother. Wife. The best friend. My only sister of the soul.

Corrientes. Argentina. Madrid Spain. Trenque lauquen. Argentina.

never know when you find your soul sister. I found one day. Not wanted, needed it more than I thought and I was there at my side. He lived in the upstairs. Now I do not live in the upstairs, now mostly live in my heart. Again living in Argentina.

The value Family give blood when the family is often part of the soul is what makes a life. The left that imprint so deep that accompanies you like a shadow every day.

This photo has no artistic value. Has the value of this art, take a snapshot that defines that person. A portrait.

Gabi, my sister, my friend was preparing for an incredible birthday party for our children themed Mickey. We were both dressed as Micky. She organized everything with precision and diligence of the best professional. We could not miss record: guest gift bags, decorations and of course super cake shaped like Mickey. Guests and love. Kilos of love. She wears a heart that I did for Valentine's Day, every day should have something new to do, we needed to save our lives in the anonymity that turns you to exercise a mother, homemaker, wife ... silent roles that provide all the added value that it is so important in our society called family and how debased, no and frowned upon it. About how much ink spilled in generation or not, because we do not use that effort to talk to the parents of this generation?

Every day he received a call early, _Nos Take some tea?

That was the beginning. That was the beginning during the year in which we live together all the emotions involved exercise full-time mother. Laughter, Tears, fears, blocks,

Insecurity. There were planning activities to do with our children and enrich and amuse us all.

For me it was the first time as a mother, my confusion was absolute. Our children, Nico and Gael, of course soul brothers forever too, had been born a week apart.

Nobody knows how difficult that is being a mother without having a clear reference to how. All you say is easy, at least I cared a lot during my pregnancy, when I was happy when my son was born I felt this "apáñatelas as you can!

did not know how to do my part, more difficult to practice the profession of life: motherhood. A little child has asked you not come to the world depends on you and depending on what you offer and will give him a better person, to grow more freely and be able to choose and be able to leave home with the necessary tools to defend themselves.

Gabriela taught me this. How I teach it! LOVE. That was the key. LOVE AND UNDERSTANDING. PATIENCE. His sentence is now to be me!. End of concern.

agree that both felt the family uprooted I least she taught me to accept my blood family, to forgive, to understand ... plus key show for our children to grow up happy. How many times I said something brilliant:

-arrived late to the distribution of mothers. That's it!

course, so we should look for that reference would normally be a mother.

Our mothers were not bad nor good. They were not or would not be mothers or exercise of such.

Of course we could not force them.

Unemployed. Immersed in the daily routine. Diapers, crying, sleeplessness, colic, bronchitis, meals, washing machines ... succeed in building a parallel world that we do

see every morning the sun as much as it rained outside.

Nobody could believe that our best days was that we could escape without children make the purchase! We enjoyed buying diapers, gel, slurry ...

Both had and still have a job. The market gave us when we wanted to spend more time with our children. "Settlement?, If total, at home. With the illusion that we were college, how many times we thought about changing the world! Often felt that the world had forced us to change and accept something not foreseen when we were younger.

Our society is this: We do not want to be mothers like ours, we want to be mothers, work and let our mothers care for our children. Easy equation.

A few grandmothers have heard in the park complain to start with their grandchildren when they had their sons, daughters do not understand that they have already met, for better or worse but I went through that. (Take this opportunity to remind all these grandmothers who work full time for their daughters to fulfill the dream that they could not and now have better either because lack of time).

We decided to go it alone. But longed to work. A lot. Many things planned! Finally she just left a country that promised much more than they gave the gold to be looking for when they emigrate was not that wonderful.

I had never emigrated as such, but also end up leaving, leaving Madrid.

The day she was crying and felt so immense pain. Now I feel closer each day.

is present in my life. It is the most important woman world to me. The best woman in the world! Not dream of finding a sister would have thought so.

We immersed in a reality that is no longer employed but still it hurts us when we talked about independent women "what they meant?, Working women eight ten hours away from home, leave your child where and how they can also worry about the mayor's office from home?, we must change this situation. Being a mother is the greatest gift of life. Waivers should not require this level.

We met by chance. In the courtyard of the community. Wonderful chance.

Thanks Gabriela.

I love you.

With this tribute to this great woman I wanted, I do not know if achieved, be the voice of many women in that year we find we share a life. Low wages that keep you from being independent. This is the map female majority in this country. grandmothers working tirelessly at home and their children.

Marta Herrero is a producer of advertising and is also a member of the Lyceum Club María Zambrano

Baby Has Rosy Cheeks And Chin

Angela. For Stanca Tont

This

tribute is for my mother Angela, have two beautiful names thought angels bearing the image of an angel and mother who is the most beautiful word uttered by human beings as Kahil Gibran said.

Until I was about fifteen years my mother did not appreciate, but one day something happened: the separation of my parents, so she was there doing a mother and a father struggling to raise her two daughters in that moment I began to realize what representing her, my love grew with each passing day.

When I had my daughter I realized even more what she felt for us, being able to give everything without getting anything, to have confidence in your children when all others have lost ... and I can go.

Once I heard a phrase that said: "God could not be everywhere at once and I think mothers," I think it's true ...

Mom, thanks for being my mother, for your understanding and take us forward without hesitation. I hope to be as good mother you are. Besos

mom. Stanca

Tont is assistant manager at the Business Center ASR and also a member of the Lyceum Club María Zambrano.

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Manuela Rejas. Mercedes González Rojo

Manuela Rejas practice as a magician

Manuela Rejas: an illusion of life

This is the title under which I want to present the profile of Manuela Rejas a woman who came into my life a few years ago but that involved a discovery that stirred me many things and we lost a month of March, will now make a year. What why "illusion of life"? First of all it was the first woman who won in Spain the professional magician card, while still a minor, something unthinkable in a man's world where a woman was to the post of assistant. But Manuela, I dreamed of doing magic since childhood, as has some of his biographical writings, since an itinerant magician entrusted his bag before he was arrested and clear! never returned. And if it was she who did the tricks, it was logical that the magician was not the assistant. After that circus life led her to travel throughout Spain and other parts of the world, with a husband who followed her and a family that was growing. Up until the accident and illness and had to leave the circus and learn to survive with a thousand and professions with which it was moving forward slowly.

And here comes the second reason, or perhaps the principal, called illusion of life. Suffering from a serious illness, struggling every day with the Grim Reaper in a grueling game that always got at least leave tables, refusing to leave, although he was aware it could lose the next game at any time, as if constant trick of "escapism" is involved.

came one day to Veguellina Órbigo by chance, looking for your daughter. There he fell in love with the river and decided to stay. In their suitcases locked up a whole wealth of life experiences that had accumulated ... Some better, some worst ... But above all life experiences, experiences that helped her cope day to day difficulties, not to be satisfied with an unjust society tripping planted in the life of any woman who was not satisfied with what the environment, deeply patriarchal and protective of the time in which he lived, had intended for her. And there I met her. With all the force of life in their eyes bright, her smile, in games of magic that every evening was practicing for the people living in nursing homes. But his words, sometimes harsh, sometimes tender, sometimes foreboding, which made her surrounded by a halo of "magician."

And let me introduce her to other women, some his contemporaries, younger women, as a pioneer in a difficult world and a time when the women had additional difficulties even greater than we are today, but also as an example of who never gave up and, thanks to his tenacity, lived his life by carrying on his own and his family. Sometimes living it as he wanted, in other - probably most - surviving to the difficulties that fate was planted in its path, revealing the face of injustice and rose up again and again, stubbornly, to whom he intended to break her and humiliate her. Also as an amateur writer, and near the end of his life, got to see another of his dreams realized, seeing his name in the window of a bookstore.

say that everyone will be able to be fully realized when you got three things in life: Having a child, plant a tree and write a book. Manuela, despite the pitfalls of life, did achieve more than these three premises and in his latest book, 15 stories were raw, "he was baring of his soul, weaving personal experiences with the aim of his fantasy in a process that, as she always said, was overcoming the toughest moments of his life, illuminating it with a ray of hope.

Manuela reading a story winner in a contest in which he was awarded in the last years of his life .

could write pages and pages on it. There is so much to tell! But it would be an abuse of me. Although if anyone wants to know a little more, you can go to my blog , which has a section that is a tribute to some of her friends, all those in whom left - forever - a mark indelible.
Manuela Rejas
Garcia, born in 1924 in Moralzarzal, a small village in the province of Madrid. From that moment, like it or not, became a citizen of the world, often described himself as herself, ending her journey through life a March 6, 2010, as if he had calculated the date for its ash undertake the final road to the sea, its ultimate destination, through the waters of his beloved river Órbigo, 8 March, just the Women's Day (working), she was always tripping over those that "men" and his life put in his way, while someone close to her words popped an epitaph he had personally written long ago and jealously guarded among his most prized possessions.

This is, in just a few lines, the portrait of a woman who was very important to me and I wanted to share with you all. An example of a simple life but full of determination, the desire to excel, power and fighting ability, which was not overcome by the difficulties of life, although at many times the load was too heavy. Mercedes

Glez. Red. Leon is Equality Officer of the City of Astorga and works with many women's associations.

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My friends. By Patricia Puerto

My beautiful and cherished friends.

essential women in my life are my best friends. With which I have always dreamed of, with which I've always been myself, to always laugh and cry with which I get angry and return to reconcile. Them, all women, my women are essential. They

, tireless fighters for survival in a world of male sharks, although they do not know are incredibly active citizens, strong and beautiful. They

, trying to be there for me and others.

With that organize trips with those organized parties, with whom I share the pain of a loss, they and I are so combustible adventurous companions hits.

Girl, I adore and I love you.

always yours, Patricia

.

Puerto Patricia is a psychologist, Equal Opportunities Officer and Specialist on Violence Against Women, is also a member of the Lyceum.

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My mother. By Claudia Tarozzi

Perhaps

not always have to look inward, to family, but if the example of women we are most proud of is the mother of one, then we can not do otherwise.

My mother was a foreigner again, married to a man of another nationality in a European country after the war. It came from a wealthy family, the gentry of the East-was a graduate in philosophy and letters, spoke several languages \u200b\u200band, therefore, could exert a teacher for a while, when all countries were in full reconstruction. I guess to live in another country earned him years of adaptation, but never showed signs of repentance have followed his great love. He devoted himself fully to the family, had 6 children who instilled with curiosity to learn anything and the defense of freedom of expression.

I saw her always elegant and dressed to the nines every day, but did not have to go out, as the only makeup you put a little powder and a little lipstick, curling eyelashes and fingernails, was beautiful I say this objectively.

When, as older and all, we were able to tell us something of his experience of war, could never get beyond a few memories every time, stifled sobs. , Lost his younger brother, just 17 years and older sister the same day: the last was approaching Command to receive the news of the death of the first when he dropped a bomb on it. When he decided to flee to their country of boyfriend, spent three months in the mountains and saw convoys of deportees to concentration camps.

almost always collapsed in his stories to remember having seen people deported grazing in the fields, or the terror that produces a plane fly so low, while you are strafing, you see the pilot's face. They were also caught her once and she had almost had survived the death safe, because the site where they were was destroyed. They left the field thanks to their languages \u200b\u200band well-guarded piece of jewelry that still could be exchanged for food or for help in the escape.

counted dad, but mom did not want to recognize it only because saved two and five, when, going for a boat that had bespoken, they encountered a very hostile to business because she spoke their language and became respected as a "lady" was.

mom never boasted about anything, never complained about anything. He taught us French since childhood, but not their language, perhaps as a catharsis to somehow forget us not raised in any religion, just wanted to teach us to be free and use our intelligence and our personal resources. But kept all parties!

Not ever having seen decay-endured two years beyond the medical prognosis with liver metastases, "for I never actually left a single complaint or criticism of and yes mouth kisses, smiles and words of encouragement, but my mother's story is not special, I will always be for me. I miss your kiss goodnight.

Tarozzi Sirola Claudia is a professor of English and Italian. It is also a member of the Lyceum Club María Zambrano.

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Portrait of a lady. By Pedro Postigo



This book, Portrait of a Lady , was and is one of the more and better books that bring me memories of my time in college. Just this year, 4 of stroke, professor of American literature focused his course to study and analyze the role of women in society of the nineteenth century, their struggles and demands in a society dominated by men and the inconsistency between free thought and independence in the mind of a woman with the established canons of society, the influence of English and European, with special emphasis on women as both writer (Jane Austen or the Bronte sisters, and former English all the time) no place in the intellectual world as in as a sovereign women on equal terms with men. In short, some women struggle against their own time and in a hostile environment. In the end, this time against which they fought have been given the reason, something that men always appreciate and welcome.

Pedro Postigo is an entrepreneur
http://www.ceyde.com/

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My mother and grandmother. By Juan Carlos Gargiulo

In the spring of 2007 we took a short trip to the village where he was born my mother, and from which he emigrated in 1930 to Buenos Aires.
is a tribute to my ancestors and especially my mother and my grandmother.
would have much to tell everything that I learned from them, but I prefer to leave this video.



Juan Carlos Gargiulo is an architect and photographer.
http://www. jcgargiuloarquitecto.blogspot. Com
http://www.lluviacaballo.com
http://www.fotosemanal. Blogspot.com

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My grandmother, my mother and my aunt. By Ana Isabel St. Romuald

Ana

Photographs released by San Romualdo.

always bothered me a lot of that expression that a person is or acts as a greengrocer, but the truth is that even I've caught myself using it sometime, then repent immediately. I try to use alternative expressions (the current thread, the best you are a belenesteban) because my grandmother was a greengrocer, and nothing further from her image of women that vulgar and loud to be associated with the term.

My grandmother Eugenia, Uge for all, had a fruit and vegetable market San Jose, then a cold and full of air currents, far from the modern cultural center it is today and that she never knew. He took the job in very difficult years of the postwar era, in which no excess of anything that time, I fear, are pale to those currently suffering, no simple either.

Originally, there were days you did not sell almost anything. In which the goods, fragile, broke down in boxes or in baskets and get home as he was gone, only the cold Segovia in the body. I still keep, as always overcome by the symbolism of objects, an old tweed jacket yours. Memory, or perhaps I remember that he used when he was in the market.

Uge Anyway, that was tough and tender at the time, never lost faith that this adventure in which he had embarked would improve the lives of his family. There was always a sell and tomorrow. Modestly, the business was gradually doing better, and served to supplement the family income. Unpretentious, this is not the story of a fruit that ended up having a big company, but the fruit was a fruit. I think she never needed more and of course, me neither.

passed by the grocery store, briefly, my Aunt Rachel and a little more prolonged in time, my mother, Anne, I do not know whether genetic or environmental issue, but I remind myself, before writing, doing accounts and charging the ladies in the office, when he stood a meter above the ground.

Life took my mother and my aunt in another direction and I do not think more of the steps of his mother and establish his own business. But the fact is that, while not expected it, ended up happening. When I passed the 50, when he feels more and some less life has already encarriladada and it is proper to start thinking about retirement and grandchildren, they laid hands on her mother's spirit, the spirit I see in them every day, put the crisis and "these two están locas” por montera y abrieron una zapatería.



Han pasado casi dos años y La Zapatería del Mercado, en el Mercado de La Albuera, (gracias a EL ADELANTADO por esta pequeña cuña gratuita) sigue abierta, para sorpresa de los que no las daban ni un año, en un momento con una de las peores caídas del consumo de los últimos treinta años. Como la frutería de mi abuela, no creo que la zapatería llegue nunca a multinacional, pero en tiempos en que abrir cada mañana es un triunfo incluso para los que llevan generaciones en el negocio, para unas recién llegadas levantar el cierre cada día es casi un milagro.

Mi madre y My aunt knew fruits and vegetables and these months have learned of shoes and handbags, shop windows and set up using your computer or data-phone. When I see them, always happy with their decision to open the business, even in the days when sales slack, I think my grandmother, the greengrocer's market in San Jose, would be proud of their daughters. I am. Of the three.

Article published in The Adelantado de Segovia.

Ana San Romualdo is editor of El Adelantado de Segovia.

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and Mónica Sánchez by Laura Alvarez

Laura Alvarez, vice president of the Lyceum Club María Zambrano, tells of two women who have given much personal and professional level: Isabel and Monica Sanchez. The three agreed for a time in the RAIS Foundation of Madrid.