I imagine that one day I will have to stand tall and resign from a position. What would i write?

In line with the current developments, I have opted to step down from my position. I have always strived to do my duties with utmost diligence. All mudslinging and innuendo has come as a rude shock, making my position untenable.

I had a great time working at the organization, and hope to meet these wonderful people in future endeavors.

Warm regards

Wow, how would you write yours?


The problem:
Drupal’s default ‘Footer message’ area (to which you can add content via the admin section – Administer > Site configuration > Site information) will not parse PHP.

If, for example, you add a copyright message to your footer message area such as “© Copyright 2009” it’ll be fine until the New Year begins and you have to go in and manually change it to “© Copyright 2010”. So, instead, it would be great if you could handle the date dynamically using the following PHP code (see http://php.net/date for further PHP date details):

© Copyright <?php echo date('Y'); ?>
However, try adding that to the default ‘Footer message’ area and it will simply output the entirety of the code as text, ignoring the PHP tags.

© Copyright <?php echo date(‘Y’); ?>

So, what to do?

Solution 1:
Create a block (admin/build/block/add) containing the code, set its input format to PHP, and then place that block in the footer region via the main blocks settings page (admin/build/block). Crazy simple.

Bakari is a house boy who every day drinks the wine of his Boss and puts water in the bottle to replace what he drank. But the Boss having suspicions as for the quality of the wine, he decides to buy pastis(a French wine that changes colour if you add water). Bakari as usual, takes a mouthful and add water to replace what he drank. However, soon after he added water the pastis became milky.When the Boss came back and noticed it, he was sure he had managed to nail Bakari as thief!!!

At that same moment Bakari realized he was in trouble and decided to go into the kitchen. The Boss told his wife, ‘Mary, you will see today; he will be obliged to acknowledge that he is the wine thief.’

So he calls Bakari:
He shouted,’Bakari!’
Bakari answered, ‘Yes, Boss!’
Boss: ‘Who drank my pastis?’
No answer.
The Boss reiterated his question: ‘who drank my wine?’
Still no answer.

So the Boss went to fetch Bakari from the kitchen and said to him, ‘Are you insane or what? Why is it that when I call you, you say, “Yes boss!” but when I ask you a question you don’t answer me?’
Bakari retorted, ‘It is that, Boss, when you are in the kitchen there you don’t hear anything at all – except the name.’
Then, to prove that Bakari was lying, the Boss says to him: ‘You stay beside Madam here, I will go into the kitchen. Once I’m there, you ask me a question. ‘
Bakari accepted and the Boss went in the kitchen.

Bakari shouted: ‘Boss.’
Boss answered gleefully: ‘Yes, Bakari, I hear you.’
Bakari continued: ‘Who goes in the maid’s bedroom when the Madam is not around?’
No answer.
Bakari shouted again: ‘Boss, I said who made the maid pregnant?’
No answer.
Bakari shouted again (third time): ‘Boss, I say who made the maid pregnant?’
The Boss returns from the kitchen running and says, Bakari; it is true; you are right. When one is in the kitchen, one does not hear anything, only the name.

Dedicated to grandma Cucu Ndulu Kivuva on her passing 21st February 2011
Poem by William Ernest Henley

A late lark twitters from the quiet skies:
And from the west,
Where the sun, his day’s work ended,
Lingers as in content,
There falls on the old, gray city
An influence luminous and serene,
A shining peace.

The smoke ascends
In a rosy-and-golden haze. The spires
Shine and are changed. In the valley
Shadows rise. The lark sings on. The sun,
Closing his benediction,
Sinks, and the darkening air
Thrills with a sense of the triumphing night–
Night with her train of stars
And her great gift of sleep.

So be my passing!
My task accomplish’d and the long day done,
My wages taken, and in my heart
Some late lark singing,
Let me be gather’d to the quiet west,
The sundown splendid and serene,