治湿疹阜阳哪家医院好阜阳脓包型脱发治疗,阜阳哪家医院皮肤病治,阜阳治疗痘痘花多少钱,阜阳哪个治疗软尤医院好,阜阳去哪治皮肤病好,阜阳治疗痤疮什么医院好,寻常尤怎么去除去阜阳哪家医院好

CORYDON, Ind. — “We’re probably behind the times a little bit, but we’re a close-knit, tight community,” said Sherry Watson, the owner of Kent Java Bar Coffee. Welcome to Corydon: a small town in southern Indiana, just over the border from Kentucky. “It’s really dull most of the time, so it’s important to have these local flavors," said Alexander Laske, who lives in town. They’re known for a few things. The site of the original capital of Indiana, a small skirmish in the civil war — and Butt Drugs.“Yes, I love Butt Drugs,” said Kathy White, a customer. “Oh yeah, Butt Drugs are great,” said Frank Law, another customer. “We all definitely heart our Butt drugs, they have a lot of fannies,” Laske said. Butt Drugs is probably not what you think it is. It’s an old-fashioned pharmacy, owned by Katie Butt-Beckort. She’s the third-generation Butt to run the place. “I started working when I was 9, behind the cash register. But professionally I started working in 2002,” said Butt-Beckort. Katie’s grandfather, William “Blackie” Butt, opened the store in 1952. It’s a full-service pharmacy with an old-fashioned soda counter and they sell 35-cent coffee. The name is just the cherry on top. “I try to know everyone’s name, yes, and I try to learn it by the second or third visit,” said employee Katie McGraw. Believe it or not, in town, the name isn’t their biggest draw. It’s the store’s priority on family friendly service. Katie McGraw works the front and she knows which customers like their bags stapled and which ones don’t. “We have a lot of customers that have shopped here their whole life, they’ve never shopped anywhere else. Their kids come here, their grandkids come here, their great-grandkids, so we just like to make it feel like a family atmosphere here,” she said. And It really is a family affair. Katie’s mom, Julie McGraw, has been a pharmacy tech for Butt’s for more than 25 years. “They have always been a pleasure to work for, they have always treated me like family,” said Julie McGraw. That family atmosphere has paid off. The independent pharmacy fills more than 2,000 prescriptions a week. Which helps stave off the competition. “We have a CVS, a Walgreens and a Walmart all within a mile and a half of here. And they’ve been here for years,” said Butt-Beckort. While the family friendly store has held off the big brands, it still finds its more risque side. “Yeah so she had a good base, we had t shirts, we had the classic 'I love Butt Drugs.' I mean that’s been a cornerstone for years,” said Trista Melton, who runs the drugstore’s marketing. While they were embracing their name before, the pharmacy is really turning it into an opportunity. “I think my best thing is making the Butt Liquors logo,” Melton said. “We’ve always sold liquor. People say, 'oh, well you just started selling liquor. ' No, we’ve had a three-way license for years, but we renamed that department Butt Liquors. Because we can,” said Butt-Beckort. “We took some things that have always been big here, like free parking in the rear," Melton said. “Funny, but you know, also real. Used to (be) you had to pay to park in downtown Cordyn, it was like , that was a big deal.” And customers, whether from town or tourists, love it. “Everyone loves Butt Drugs,” one customer said in the store. “Classic, it’s a one-of-a-kind, that’s for sure,” White said. So much so, that they can’t keep merchandise on the shelf. “I mean, we have to order shirts in every single week, we cannot keep them in stock,” Melton said. And the online store keeps things moving for those who can’t make it to Indiana. “We’ve shipped to six countries, so we’re kind of a worldwide thing,” Melton said. That makes everyone — from the employees to the owner — proud to work at Butt Drugs. “If I go out and meet new people and they ask where I work, I’m always proud to say it — Butt Drugs — and get a little bit of a look like, 'what did you say?' ” McGraw said.“Really, you know there’s a lot of people with the last name Butt in this world, I think we might be the only Butt Drugs though,” Butt-Beckort said. 4133

NASHVILLE, Tenn. -- When you think of Nashville, you think bright lights and big music. Poverty is not part of its image. “There’s so many creative people that never get a chance to do anything with it. You’re too busy trying to survive, trying to eat, trying to stay alive,” said Chris Bandy, an artist. But poverty does exist in Nashville, and the rest of the U.S. At a house on the east side of the city, some of those living on less are doing a little more. “I’m doing what I was meant to be, you know, being a practicing, creative artist,” said Kateri Pomeroy, a Nashville artist. She uses the studio space at Poverty for the Arts. Pomeroy and her husband Sam are two of the first artists to join POVA, as it’s known. Sam was finishing up a wood sculpture he’s been working on. POVA was started by Nicole Minard as a way to help people who didn’t have access to art supplies and studio space. “I really saw the breadth of talent so many people on the streets had, and I would get questions like, ‘how can I get my art in a coffee shop?’ or ‘people see me drawing on the street every day, how do I get it to them without a cop pulling up and stopping me?’” said Minard. Minard provides the space, and the supplies for people who want to create art and she helps them sell it. POVA pays artists 60 percent of the selling price. They reinvest the other 40 percent into rent and supplies. “In those five years since we’ve started, we’ve served over 75 different artists and we’ve paid out over ,000 to artists on the street,” said Minard. The program gives exposure for artists who otherwise wouldn't have it. “If you don’t have the right school, the right gallery, the right representation, you really don’t get seen,” said Bandy For those that use the space to paint, draw or scribble, POVA is a place to prove they belong, even if they've known their potential all along. Edwin Lockridge was born with a paintbrush in his hand. “My parents actually have pictures of me, photographs of me as a baby with a pen and paper in my hands,” said Lockridge. But life has been rough for him and his family. “My mother and my father both have Alzheimer's bad, excuse me. I admit that I’m not in the best of health myself,” Lockridge said. To him, POVA is a matter of life and death. “The revenue from my art buys art supplies, medicine, necessary stuff to keep me alive for my basic survival," said Lockridge. For Pomeroy, Bandy and Lockridge, POVA provides opportunities they could not have thought possible. “This place has given me a transfusion, a new blood, and a new way to live" said Pomeroy. “We are family,” said Bandt. “There are no words, there are no words. This is my extended family without a doubt,” said Lockridge.That sense of family and community is a work of art no one can put a price on.   2838

Cleveland Indians manager Terry Francona had his two World Series rings stolen in Tucson last month.According to the Pima County Sheriff's Department, on Nov. 7, deputies responded to the 6300 block of North Via Lomas De Paloma where they learned of the theft.PCSD then learned that the rings were sold to a sports memorabilia store in Phoenix.After further investigation, the rings were recovered. 411

Here's a look at all the local mall hours around San Diego to make sure your holiday shopping goes smoothly.Fashion Valley Mall (7007 Friars Rd.) 160

BALTIMORE, Md. – In the Matthew Henson community of Baltimore, Dr. Marvin “Doc” Cheatham knows the neighborhood’s numbers. “These are rowhouses. 40 or 50 of them in a block,” he said, “1,200 houses; total 363 vacant or boarded up houses. It’s awful.” His Baltimore neighborhood is no stranger to challenges. “It’s tough. Very poor. High crime. High dropout rate. Open air drug markets,” Dr. Cheatham said. McKean Park, though, may be the start of something new. The abandoned homes that once sat there are now gone – and have a new purpose. “We take it, we clean it up and we give it new life,” said Max Pollock with Brick and Board, a place where old wood finds new life. They are just one of several groups involved in the “Baltimore Wood Project.” “They came from a really, really old structure,” Pollock said, as he showed off a 200-year-old piece of lumber. The idea works like this: before an abandoned building is torn down, crews salvage all the materials they can get from it – like wood – and keep it out of landfills. At the same time, they give the people who live in those neighborhoods the job of doing that. “It gives you a new sense of your community,” said Baltimore native Kobe Bland, who works at Brick and Board. “You start to view your community a little different because you see the potential of what could be.” What started out as the “Baltimore Wood Project,” though, is now evolving into the “Urban Wood Project,” with the hope it could be replicated in other cities.” In just four years, they’ve salvaged one million square feet of wood. The USDA Forest Service is spearheading the project and the work to expand it. “This is wood for example locked up in these vacant and abandoned rowhomes that would otherwise be wasted – sent to the landfill or otherwise wasted – and we see the potential to capture and reuse that wood for a greater good,” said Sarah Hines of the USDA Forest Service, who has worked on the project in Baltimore. Back in his neighborhood, Doc Cheatham said he’s seen what kind of change it can bring. “It brings hope,” he said.It’s a hope that comes from salvaging the past, to try and build a better future. 2171