 Diego, who was born with autism. Sara knows that taking care of Diego helped her grow up faster than her peers, and sometimes she feels she missed out on being just a regular teenager. As Sara says in her radio documentary, "When my mom was telling me her worries about Diego, inside I was like, ‘why are you telling me this? I’m just a kid - why should I have to worry too?’ But instead I just let my mom talk."A New Model to Estimate Deep-level Magma Ascent Rates, with Applications to Mt. Etna (Sicily, Italy)

Magma ascent velocities, v (dH/dt; where H is depth and t is time), can be determined from decompression rates (dP/dt), and rates of cooling (dT/dt):, where ρ is magma density, P is pressure, T is temperature and g is the acceleration due to gravity. This equation for v provides a key to investigating the relationships between the initial ascent velocity of magmas and the depths of magma dehydration. Ascent velocities can be calculated using pressure and temperature (P–T) estimates from mineral–liquid thermobarometry and cooling rates inferred from crystal size distribution (CSD) theory. For recent Mt. Etna lava flows, both dP/dT and dT/dt have been characterized for the portion of the feeding system between the Moho (∼27 km) and 6 km based, respectively, on clinopyroxene thermobarometry and clinopyroxene CSDs. Deep-level (>6 km) magma ascent velocities range from practically zero (where clinopyroxene P–T estimates form a cluster, and so dP/dT ≈ 0), to about 10 m h –1 for flows that yield very steep P–T trajectories. Many lava flows at Mt. Etna yield P–T paths that follow a hydrous (∼3% water) clinopyroxene saturation surface, which closely approximates the water content inferred from melt inclusions. Independent assessments of deep-level water contents have been obtained by means of a new geohygrometer and yield ascent rates of ∼1 m h –1, in agreement with the slowest rates derived for magma effusion or vapor-driven ascent (∼0·001 to >0·2 m s –1, or 3·6–720 m h –1 ). Changes in P–T slope, as determined by pyroxene thermobarometry, indicate an upward acceleration of magma, which may be due to the onset of deep-level magma dehydration linked to the non-ideal behavior of water and CO 2 mixtures that induce a deep-level maximum of water loss at P ≈ 0·4 MPa and T ≈ 1200°C for a CO 2 content >1000 ppm.Translate the following sentence to German:
All the apartments are attractively furnished with terracotta from Impruneta and exposed wood beams, attention to detail in the bathrooms, iron beds, carefully selected lighting, iron doors with double panes to let in plenty of light.

German:
Das Haus ist gänzlich mit Flusssteinen überzogen, mit Liebe und in allen Einzelheiten renoviert um die Geschichte und die antike Schönheit hervorzuheben, und besteht aus zwei Stockwerken: Im Erdgeschoss befinden sich zwei Wohnungen (More und Ribes) mit großem Bogengang aus Tonfliesen; im ersten Stock befinden sich zwei weitere Wohnungen (Mirtillo und Lampone), die sehr charakteristisch sind.Ryan settles down for a night of David Lynch goodness, with half a dozen short films and an outright classic to keep him company...
David Lynch has been making his own curious brand of surrealist movies for over forty years, and this collection of his short films is a fascinating insight into his obsessions and the way they’ve evolved in that time.
His first, Six Figures Getting Sick (1966) reveals the transition between his work as an artist and his movie making; three human heads grow, vomit and then catch fire in a disquieting loop that feels far longer than its billed four minutes.
Two years later, Lynch made The Alphabet (1968), a film about ‘the nightmare of learning’. It’s interesting to note that, even this early in his career, Lynch was already adept at creating bizarre and disturbing sound tracks; the eerie chant of the ‘abc’ complements the visuals, which combine live action and animation in a manner that recalls both Terry Gilliam and Luis Buñuel.
Lynch followed The Alphabet with arguably his best short film, The Grandmother (1970). Live action and animation are again blended with surprising effect, and the film has a narrative flow that immediately sets it apart from his earlier work. Apparently the tale of a lonely, abused boy who somehow grows his own grandmother from a tree in his bedroom, the film is a compelling bridge between his short films and his first feature, Eraserhead.
The next film on the disc, The Amputee (1974) is something of a red herring, since it wasn’t intended to be a ‘proper’ film at all; it was put together in a matter of hours as a test for two different stocks of video tape. This goes some way to explain why the footage is of a lesser quality than the other work on the DVD, and also why the same film is shown twice. Nevertheless, The Amputee is still of interest to Lynch devotees – it retains a typically odd atmosphere (that can only be described as Lynchian) despite its hasty creation; as a woman sits and writes a letter, a nurse diligently tends to the remains of her freshly amputated leg, removing gauze and dabbing at bloodied tissue in a decidedly stomach-churning way.
The Cowboy and the Frenchman (1988) follows, sees Lynch try his hand at slapstick comedy. The longest film on the disc (26 minutes), and the only one to feature a relatively well-known actor – Alien‘s Harry Dean Stanton – this is also my least favourite. Originally shot for French television as part of a collection of ‘The French as Seen By…’ short films, The Cowboy and the Frenchman deals with the subjects of cultural differences and racial stereotypes. 
The last film, Premonitions of an Evil Deed (1996) is a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it affair; shot on an antique cine camera which once belonged to the pioneering Lumière brothers, it’s a film as perplexing and nightmarish as any of Lynch’s features, as the director juxtaposes scenes of cosy family life and human experimentation in 56 seconds of claustrophobic, strobing footage.
Slavish followers of Lynch or film students will find this collection fascinating; not only are the short films excellent in their own right, the director’s introductions, as he describes how and why each was made, are excellent too.
EraserheadLove it or loathe it, Eraserhead is one of those films that lingers in the mind like few others. I still remember the first time I saw it: just back from the pub and half drunk, I turned on the television late one night just in time to see Jack Nance’s bizarre haircut fill the screen. I was fascinated and disturbed in equal measure, and I’ve never forgotten it since.
While Lynch has made other excellent films (Elephant Man and Lost Highway, to name my personal favourites), Eraserhead is still, I’d argue, his best: its tale of an ‘average’ man thrown into a particularly nightmarish type of fatherhood in some dystopian alternate universe is dense, claustrophobic, and boasts an ending that still makes the blood run cold over thirty years later. To describe the film’s events much more would be futile: Eraserhead is one of those films that must be seen to truly appreciate. Like most Lynch movies, the films events are secondary to its singular atmosphere, which he seems to create in even apparently mundane moments.
This new DVD release features a superb 90 minute documentary, with extended interviews with David Lynch, who describes, in his own eccentric and endlessly detailed fashion, the fascinating story behind the film’s protracted production (beginning in the early seventies with little more than a 21 page script and a few thousand dollars, Eraserhead would take another five years to complete).
A truly excellent package, and the definitive version of Eraserhead which all Lynch fans should add to their collection.
“Nothing quite like this has ever been published before,” proclaimed The Guardian about the Neapolitan novels in 2014. Against the backdrop of a Naples that is as seductive as it is perilous and a world undergoing epochal change, Elena Ferrante tells the story of a sixty-year friendship between the brilliant and bookish Elena and the fiery, rebellious Lila with unmatched honesty and brilliance.
The four books in this novel cycle constitute a long, remarkable story, one that Vogue described as “gutsy and compulsively readable,” which readers will return to again and again, and each return will bring with it new revelations.
Ferrante’s writing is so unencumbered, so natural, and yet so lovely, brazen, and flush. The constancy of detail and the pacing that zips and skips then slows to a real-time crawl have an almost psychic effect, bringing you deeply into synchronicity with the discomforts and urgency of the characters’ emotions.