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zrtranscripts · 3 years ago

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Home Front, Mission 17: Drone On

Take to the Skies

[mechanical work sounds in the background]

JANINE DE LUCA: Ah, is it that time already? No, Mr. Yao, I can do it. I have equipment here. No, you do not need to come down and help. Please continue calibrating the comms. Attention, listeners, Janine De Luca here. I've just been informed by Mr. Yao that it is time for today's workout session. Please take a moment to gather two or more tin cans, two bags, and if possible, a chair for exercises you'll be doing later on. Ensure the bags have strong handles. Once you're ready, commence warming up, perhaps by jogging on the spot.

Unfortunately, I'm rather busy attending to a task in Abel's workshop at present. Under the workshop, to be precise. I'm in a crawl space, stripping out old copper wiring for use elsewhere. Still, I have a portable mic, so we can conduct our workout as planned. In fact, being in a confined space has brought to mind exercises for those locked down with limited room, such as Runner Thirty-One, who is unfortunately trapped within a cottage pantry.

So on to today's first exercise: seated leg raises. For this, you'll need one sturdy chair and just enough space to stretch your legs. I believe Thirty-One has that much room in his pantry, along with several thousand legumes. If you don't have room, continue jogging. Otherwise, sit upright in your chair with your back straight and your hands on the chair on either side of you. Plant your left foot on the floor, then straighten your right leg so it extends in front of you with your hip flexed and your knee straight. Hold the leg there for a few seconds, then lower it.

We will raise and lower your right leg thusly for 30 seconds, then your left for 30 more. And start. That's it, keep going. 15 seconds down. You're doing well, everyone. Please ignore my working in the background. Very good. 30 seconds, listeners. Switch to your left leg. That's it, 15 seconds left, listeners. We are both nearly done. The wiring down here is from defunct pre-apocalypse electrics. There is little left to salvage. And exercise complete, as is my collection operation.

I shall trigger a music break while I emerge from the crawl space. You could continue exercising or relax, listeners. I admit I've let Mr. Yao pick out today's songs, so I imagine something cheerful should be about to play.

JANINE DE LUCA: Welcome back, everyone. I'm afraid I am far from done with the day's labors, so you will have to bear with me while I conduct essential work. Abel's machine shop has been rather cluttered for the last few months. Just before the superhorde, we recovered a crashed military drone from nearby countryside, an extremely advanced attack model. Mr. Yao claims it resembles a predatory bird, though I know few birds of car size. At first I was worried the drone was damaged beyond repair, but I have had ample incentive to work on it of late. Now while I rewire some circuits on the drone's underside, you've a round of torso twists to do.

Use the tin cans and bags you obtained earlier. Place one tin in each bag. Feel free to use more tins for a greater challenge. This ought to be a fine use for all those cans of condensed milk in your pantry, Runner Thirty-One. Of course, you wouldn't have been trapped by the horde if you hadn't disobeyed orders to go back for those cans. Now sit holding the weights very close to your chest. Twist from the waist to your left hand side, then twist back to the center, and then twist to the opposite side. Keep alternating twists like this for one minute. And begin.

Very good, 15 seconds complete. For camaraderie purposes, you may wish to know I am removing fused components from the drone. They are of a similar heft to your weights. That's it, 30 seconds elapsed. Patience is the key, listeners, in exercise and engineering. No matter how many panels need to be pried loose, one must persist. 15 seconds left, nearly done. And exercise complete.

It has been weeks of work, listeners, but I am close to restoring this drone, I know it. Air support in this day and age... it could bring us a major victory against the superhorde. Dr. Myers is concerned that I've been going without sleep for the project. For more than a few days, in honesty, but completion is so near. I need only... [components zap] Ah, damn! I need only bypass the power systems. The main battery still holds charge, but its connections are ruined. This wiring is delicate. I must concentrate. More music will follow. Rest or continue pushing yourselves and when I return, with any luck, some progress will have been made.

JANINE DE LUCA: Hello, listeners. You have just missed Mr. Yao, who has been down here on the pretext of delivering unsolicited cocoa. The truth is, weathering the superhorde, trying to plan a counterattack... the pressure has been intense. Bouts of flu and dysentery have other settlements low on medical supplies, beseeching us for aid. Tinkering in here is the closest thing to relaxation I've been able to manage. Hopefully you have found our exercises similarly restorative.

Today's next task: incline press-ups. If you're confined near stairs, find them. Adopt a press-up position with your hands shoulder-width apart on the second or third step of your stairs and your back straight. Bend your arms to lower your body until your chest is close to the floor, hold there for a count of two, then return to your starting position.

For those of you without stairs, like Thirty-One or Runners Nineteen and Twenty-Two who are trapped in the ale house toilet after a failed romantic escape, try wall press-ups. Stand before a wall with your legs together and your arms straight out with your palms on the wall at shoulder height, shoulder-width apart. Keep your back straight and bend your elbows to bring your nose close to the wall. Hold for two seconds, then return to your starting position.

There will be one minute of press-ups. Begin. 15 seconds down. I believe I am close to finishing the rewiring. 30 seconds down. The drone appears to be coming online. Excellent. 45 seconds down. I imagine wall press-ups are especially useful for Runner Thirteen, who is sheltering in an old police box, to Mr. Yao’s perplexing amusement.

And stop. The drone is ready for launch. With so little fuel, there is no opportunity to test it, but I have a plan in mind. The people need a victory against the horde. To be candid, I feel I need one, too. There will be a music break while I conduct the launch. Recoup or continue doing press-ups. When you hear from me again, we shall find out one way or another whether my efforts here have been in vain.

SAM YAO: Uh, hello? Hello, listeners, are you there? It's Sam in the comms shack. Janine told me to take over the broadcast while she launches her drone. Apparently, she's rigged up a remote to steer it, so she's got to focus on that. [paper rustles]Anyway, she's given me a list of exercises for you. Next one is... oh, planking. Janine says it's, uh, an excellent test of patience, inspired by Runner Twelve, who's stuck in the back of an overturned campervan. She's been planking to pass the time.

So lie down on your front, supporting your weight on your forearms and tiptoes. Keep your back straight and lock your core. You're going to hold that pose for 60 seconds. And go. Oh! Got an update from Janine. The drone just launched, and ah, I see it on the cams, rising from the workshop like a big scary robot eagle. 15 seconds down. That's it, plank like Runner Twelve. Halfway done. Huh, that's weird, the drone's just drifting over the horde. I mean, shouldn't it be, I don't know, shooting missiles or something? 45 seconds down. Keep your body locked. Imagine you're that drone soaring through the air like a plank. And done. Good job, everyone!

Yeah, there's still no bombs or missiles from our drone. It's uh, oh, it's losing altitude, drifting east toward Naxdale Settlement. Yeah, they've always been a bit twitchy over there. They keep claiming some mysterious beast is looting their stores. I mean, everyone knows it's just rats. Anyway, I'd better check in with Janine, make sure everything's okay. You guys know the drill, keep exercising or relax in the break and I'll be right back.

SAM YAO: Hey, folks! Me again. Couldn't get ahold of Janine. She must be busy steering the drone. Well, I guess we should just get on with our exercises. Uh, the next one is inch worming. According to Janine, it's Runner Thirty-One's favorite, even if he only has enough space to halfway do it in his pantry. Janine says it's the kind of bracing challenge that patience sometimes earns. Right.

So stand up straight, feet hip-width apart, then slowly bend forward, putting your hands on the floor in front of your feet as near as you can get them to your toes. Walk your hands forward, keeping your abs engaged, until your back is completely straight, then reverse it. Walk your arms back to your feet and stand up straight again. And well, just keep doing that over and over again for one minute. Ready? And go.

Hmm. Uh, you've done 15 seconds. Oh, that drone is getting really low. It's banking. Oh my God, it's going down!. Uh... uh, sorry, listeners. Um, yeah, you're halfway done. I'm just a bit distracted here. The drone’s careered right into the middle of Naxdale Settlement. Uh, I'm checking nearby cams. This can't be good. Uh, yeah, 15 seconds left, guys. Looks like the locals in Naxdale are surrounding our crashed drone. They look really agitated. Uh, good job, everyone. That's one minute.

Listen, I'm gonna raise Janine, find out what's happening. You just... hang in there. Janine's been slaving over that thing for weeks. If it's some kind of dud, she'll be devastated. Oh God, I hope Naxdale don't think we're attacking them. Okay, this could be bad, but don't panic. I'm just... just going to put on some relaxing music for you to cool down to while we get this straightened out. Oh boy.

JANINE DE LUCA: Hello, listeners. I apologize for alarming you and Mr. Yao. All is well, I simply chose to focus on implementing my plan before explaining it. Lost time is lost health in this case. The drone was never meant to fight the horde, you see. We lack the ammunition for that. No, the drone is packed with medical supplies. I gutted its weapons systems to make room. I have piloted the drone to our nearby neighbors.

And to those listening from Naxdale, you are entitled to 1/8th of its contents. The drone's landing gear is permanently jammed, hence today's crash. You will use spare parts aboard to repair any landing damage and I will pilot it to the next nearest settlement, where this process will repeat. The drone has enough fuel to deliver to every settlement for miles. You will all get the supplies you need. And if anyone tries to take more than their share, well, the drone has a self-destruct.

We could not beat the horde with one damaged drone, listeners, but sometimes the key to victory is redefining your success conditions. No settlement near Abel will run out of key supplies. That is worth a little lost sleep, I fancy. Alas, we are out of time for today's exercise session. Naxdale, I will be in touch to help prepare the drone.

And everyone else, please do watch the skies. I promise when you need Abel Township, we will be there. That goes doubly for Runner Thirty-One and all the other runners out there in tight spaces. One day soon, we will be coming to rescue you, no matter what it takes, I swear. This is Janine De Luca, signing off for now.

#zombies run #zr home front #zrhf 17 #drone on #zr transcript

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daughterofhel · 3 years ago

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My icon died last night.

The little black and white cat, Auk (or-ick). A silly name from a badly remembered name from my childhood.

He was pretty much deaf; car got him.

I haven’t seen him since I left Texas, as I moved for a year to VA before finally moving to be with my wife in Vento. One of my guy friends family took him in on their ranch.

It was fitting; I did get Auk from a ranch. He was used to it, loved it even. And this was without the competition of an unhealthy amount of breeding stays like the ones I grabbed him and Ivy up from. I could only take two, my friend the same.

Funny. I had originally gone there to see the birth of a colt only to leave with a cat. Return the next day and get one more, a friend for my tiny runt of a thing.

And who should but all demand it be him to leave with me but Auk? The friendliest of cats that I’ve ever had the pleasure to be around. He also thwarted my attempts at having two girl cats. He was insistent to leave with me and you don’t argue when you’re chosen you know?

I won’t detail the tears following or the rough road and chaos that went on, but many double shifts back to back to back endlessly, a medicated clumsy grandmother with rapidly failing health, and complex roommate situations, I just wasn’t able to provide the needed time and care for my cats.

I cried the entire 45 minute drive to my buddys property when he said he could take them in. I had to pull over twice. They also cried the entire time, being afraid of the car, which made it harder. My buddy, He was the same guy who rescued a big pup clearly abandoned some years back. I had helped train him to not jump on people and other stuff. His folks also owned a longhorn ranch, lots and lots of space.

Those cats deserved better and this was a familiar element, now neutered, vaccinated, and with no stray competition and the dog was so careful. But god. I never wanted to say goodbye to my cats. It didn’t matter though, what I wanted; they needed care and time I wasn’t able to keep providing.

So I dropped them off. As expected, Ivy kept close but never got too close to the family. She simply doesn’t trust; I’ve no idea why such a little thing bonded instantly with me and remained quite the fixed cuddle bug. But she had. I felt worse about it with her than Auk if I’m to be honest.

Auk loved attention. Loved fetch. Belly rubs. This cat was a classic dog and a huge whore for attention. XD He essentially made himself at home and lavished any and all attention, to which my buddies mother instantly fell for this fuzzy dorks charms. He has been well cared for.

I know younger me could’ve and should’ve done better when I got these cats. Mind you, I’ve been gone for over 10 years now, so it has been quite some time. I’m doing what I wish I could have done for my cats then with the two rescues we got last year here.

I was young and working so many hours for nearly no profit after stuff was paid, even living at home and with roommates. I couldn’t afford the extra vet fees I needed or the fanciest of foods or any of that. I loved them, and I felt them being with me instead of the half starving state they were in from constantly competing with so many other cats, was still a better option for them. I still was at least able to do some of the important visits for them.

I cleared their fleas and earmites. I never did get rid of Ivys worms, though I desperately tried. I tried so many ways to get this pill into that cat. Even crushed into wet food. Friends helping to wrap and hold her to make her swallow. All the tricks we found, failed. She just. She wouldn’t take it. And I didn’t have the cash to go every single day and time she needed a dose to a pet clinic. I had checked more than once. It was so much money.

Older, better situated now.. I’ve been able to do right by the cats, Nyx and Tivali, that I have now.

We even saved Nyx’s eye. We have a system to give her her seizure medicine every 12 hours. They’re both fully up to date with their shots and are fixed. Ears totally clean. Monthly newly added anti flea tick collars.

The best food we can reasonably find at the local pet shop; their pelts are beautiful, soft, shiny, and they never smell.

We’ve even found a biodegradable corn based litter we can flush which has been the greatest find.

We get semi regular check ups on our girls and they’re doing just fine now. I’m still proud about saving Nyx’s eye. It was a tedious ordeal. 3-4 times a day we had to clean and medicate a cats eye. We got good at it even if she wasn’t fond of it. Thankfully the vitamins they required were like treats. Even the antibiotics from the colds they had from the shelter.

I miss Auk. And Ivy. And I wish I could’ve not only given them the life I’ve given my current cats now, (I’ve constructed basket beds, hammocks, a whole canopy jungle gym and rope bridge to boot for them with my wife!), but I wish I could have been the one to have them in my life still. I know it was not possible. It wouldn’t have been possible.

But I think of them. A lot. And I knew it was inevitable. Auk would’ve been well over 13 or so years by now. A little old but could’ve lived longer yet for sure. My buddy didn’t mention he has gone deaf. Of course he rarely goes home himself; I don’t blame him. Life’s complicated.

I have mourned these two cats multiple times now. So I’m not thrown into tears upon this news, I’ve cried plenty over the years already. But I’m still sad to hear that fuzzy delight has passed on. I won’t ask, but I hope, and believe, the accident was a quick end for such a friendly guy.

I’ll mourn him eventually in full. I know I will. But considering this is the fourth major bad news I’ve gotten in less than a month and most of it a week, I thought to write about it. If only to keep sane.

May I not receive the same news of my grandmother or my sister who both remain in the hospital.

And god. May my mother stop forcing me to recall and talk about our shared trauma under my father and just keep me up to date on my families health. I don’t want to be crushed under this suffocating vice on my neck that makes me hesitate to call and see my family. I know she needs to vent. And god. I try to let her. I do. I try to be kind; she needs it.

But it isn’t the time and place when I’m trying to figure out if my grandmother is dying or getting better. I shouldn’t have to receive that confirmation, be granted a brief video called hello and check in, with the price of an hour long dredge through a past I personally have gone to two different types of therapy through to try and cope with. Which, only to some degree, have helped.

One of the last longer calls we had she all but said she hoped her theories on my father possible molesting me were true, so, you know, that would be one more trauma we had in common. She went on and on, even trying to provide loose evidence to her theory. Troubling sentences I would say in my rare visits. Etc. She just. Wouldn’t. Stop. And that was after an hour of recalling how terrible her life was with my father and the abuse, the screaming, the terror, the hiding, the injuries, all of it. As if I wasn’t left to live my life with this very man she said her three years with ruined her more than all her past shit combined.

She assured me she was a good mother who tried. And honestly. No. But I do believe she tried. But she was already weak emotionally and mentally and my father wrecked what was left. She left me sometimes for a couple days lock in that house when I was in diapers. You don’t forget that shit. I’m still scared of the dark. I can’t reason with myself on it. But being mad about all of it doesn’t change anything and would hurt a woman already broken. Why would I do that.

Still. It bothers me. So fucking much. But she’s such a fragile person in a fragile emotional state with everything else on top. She’s been heavily depressed for many many years and it’s a bunch of other stuff that spirals and honestly, at this point, she’s toxic even to herself. I’ve tried working on it with her but it matters not if she’s not willing to work on it too. I don’t know my mother besides her many traumas. We’ve been separated and estranged for most of my life. Unless I was physically able to actually be there and provide a use.

But that’s par for the course; no one will have you around if you’re unable to provide something for it. My wife’s the first person who genuinely seems to enjoy having me around just because and wants nothing more. I do stuff of course; but with her I am not afraid a slip up could mean everything it taken away and lost. I can forget the dishes once or had a bad mental health day and stay in bed without it having catastrophic consequences. She’s such a wonderful kind woman; I cannot help stressing over how to repay her.

I try and I’ve expressed my distraught on the topic and though she always seems baffled and confused about my insistence that I should be doing far more, that lass doesn’t agree at all. It’s her parents home so I am not able to freely run the house as I would on our own, as I’m able and have in many places, so I’m often less useful with the restrictions. She’s also use to the flow and swing of things and has things half done before it’s being asked.

Our own place will make life smoother and calmer for both of us; most importantly her. I’ve watched this family, sweet, but absolutely tone deaf to how many and often their demands are tossed to her. All the other kids moved out with partners. Hell, the oldest s child basically lives here. Our own hurdle with raising a kid who we don’t have the final say on any single thing. His grandparents are enablers cuz they don’t want to hear any loud noises, no matter what. And that causes strain when the kid can and does get anything and everything as long as he kicks up a fit. And he sure as hell does. There are days it’s so bad my wife’s in tears. And that pisses me off. The kids a good person, but the fact no one will actually parent and draw definite lines and be firm with No’s can also make him horrible too.

I’ve to deal with the chess match that is my father. I often call him my own personal Devil. He kind of is. But one I’m familiar enough with at this point in my life. I know where and when to cut my losses, where to step around, when I need to swallow my pride or the easily seen through lies, and nod my head. If he was all terrible, I could have cut him from my life. But no one ever really is. And I do know I owe it to the man; he has helped tremendously in my life as much as he’s been a big problem of it. I know his biggest fear is to be alone and forgotten. I wouldn’t do that, not even to the devil.

I need some bland news. Not thrilling. Not depressing. Just some ‘hey that happened’ ‘oh cool.’ Kind of news. Just a small reprieve.

Im. Scared. Of what’s next.

I. Know that things are teetering dangerously into a very very tragic terrible story on my mothers end. I know her husbands already super suicidal. My half brothers severely autistic, non verbal, among a few other things and will require his whole life to have someone be there for him. He’s not stupid, and I hate when people treat him as so, but he is absolutely unable to care for himself. He doesn’t have the right motorskills even, though we’ve gone to many different places to try and help him find ways to do actions in his own way that still get the same result. I admire how he’s such a positive little man, generally not just happy, but delighted. I aspire to look at the world like he does. He reminds me to try. I do love that about him.

He is, however, a Big boy, 15 now, and growing. He’s also very strong now. My mother is getting to an age where his, as well call em happy slaps, are really hurting her. He is generally good about slapping your hands and not your back if you provide them. But when he is upset he is a shover; one bad fall could really cause a lot of chaos for my mother with her health. The husband spends most of his time locked in his room.

My half sister is epileptic. They have done tests for years and can’t figure out all her triggers or the whys. They just sometimes stop for a long time then suddenly happen. She’s 16, turning 17 soon. And I don’t even know if she’s going to be, since my mother won’t let me know. And there are large gaps from my sister being on tech due to concerns of what triggered her seizure this time so she’s often removed from electronic devices for a time.

When I had turned 21, my mother and her husband tried to have me sign a paper to become legal guardian of my half siblings, should something happen to them, so the kids didn’t get separated.

At that time, I was still taking care of my fathers mother along with working at a shit job, and had a house full of temporary roommates who I had offered rooms to as a sort of safe house for them. I have a knack for finding people from broken homes, what can I say? With the house my father and I built, we had space, so I used it. I was able to help the girls get out of toxic places, get on their feet, and move on. Not all of them always. But it did generally work out. One has a boyfriend who was growing worse to her on top of getting more and more into hard drugs while also she dealing with an abusive aunt who got worse once her mother died of cancer. So she was stuck with the terrible boyfriend. I had her stay with me as soon as I heard.

Another was complicated, but generally revolved around the alcoholic mother and the many, shady, men in and out of the house. The dangers of that alone were.. problematic without the friend also being suicidal and not taken seriously. I’ve stayed many times with her to just hang out, clean, cook, or even read a book cuz she just wanted to hear someone talking and such. You know? Until eventually I had her move in with me too.

Another’s mothers died of a cancer and dad an alcoholic; not abusive, he just became childlike and super forgetful. To a hurtful degree in his totally dependent state, whenever he was home. Plus their whole little trailer smelled of piss. And her boyfriend (they’re married with kids and happy now) was in jail. He had a bad past but had cleaned up his act quite well, but. Well that’s complicated. We all know that the police don’t squint at details of any issue if the accused has a problematic past.

I had two different girls with trouble at home who were being used by their family to constantly work, clean, and pay for everything.

I had an ex and her girlfriend with problematic homophobic parents who were terrible and semi violent so I had them stay with us so they could be together somewhere safer.

I did not. At all. Have the assured means to also be a parent of ten children with very different needs nor any medical benefits to help out with.

I also knew, that, with how my mothers husband was, if he had some guarantees for his children’s safety, he would likely end his life if he could. He’s been so close so many times. If signed this paper, he would have the last big most important concern that’s kept him from.. I just. I didn’t want him to do it. I selfishly didn’t want to be responsible for my siblings that would take away any bit of time I had for myself away. If anything happened, I would not abandon and forget my siblings. That’s absurd. But my mother implied heavily she wanted to be sure of that. And thus this paper.

I was struggling to find aid for college so I could go to school (never got to, by the way. Minus two classes in total. Aced them both, but it doesn’t matter. Credits in the wind). I was already dealing with my grandmother. The girls I chose to help. My shit job. My fathers temper and his horrible horrible ‘on again off again’ girlfriend. The chaos that alone committed.

I was busy providing a safe space in my home and making sure it stayed that way for the rare times trouble makers made the mistake of stepping up to my door to try and harass my girls.

I often worked 10 days in a row before a day off. Many of those days often had double shifts which were 16 hours. Sometimes I got an hour nap on the double shifts.

I just couldn’t do it.

And now. I remember something that came to mind back then that comes back to mind now. My moms husband adores my grandma. She’s been better to him than his own mother. She’s dying. He’s not taking it well and his mental health has always been pretty low and in the last couple years, already dangerously rock bottom. I’ll admit, same.

His daughter is now in the hospital. My brother is smart but there are some things we can’t really explain for him to get. He understands something is wrong but not sure what and it upsets him. He doesn’t like change and gets super fussy for it. Which can be taxing and hours and days and weeks of it. Grandmas been in the hospital for a couple more or more now. She coded a few days ago but they got her back.

If grandma dies. If something happens to my sister…

God. I don’t see that man sticking around.

And with my mom isolated. A lot of it her doing with her own family but also a good part of it being dumb petty bs of other folks that have no reason to behave like that (a whole drama I don’t have the energy to keep up with..). I just.

I see it as a domino effect of terrible terrible events I don’t want to write.

My mothers side im not very close to. I don’t blame my cousins, we were kids ajd our meetings were brief as they were. But the adults kept their distance with me. No one expected me to survive and decided it was easier to not get attached. To not get involved with me, and by extension, the devil himself, my father. So I never got the chance to know that family. Even when I tried.

So the only family I do have some ties to ajd know, is in a hospital bed, or on my dads side, and they’re dying to. And I get it… that at a certain age in life, many of the people around you start to. It’s just life. Ajd it sucks. And I miss having a best friend. I miss having friends who just seem to like to have me around. Want to have me around.

And I wonder if the friends I thought I made with my roommates were just because I provided something for them. Sure we laughed a lot, we cried over shared traumas, celebrated holidays together so as to not be alone.

But not a one speaks to me now. And hey. That’s also life. But it makes me feel pretty shitty; every where I look in the past, I can’t see any relationship, family, partner, friendship, that ever had me around unless I was providing services they wanted and needed. And I don’t mean the natural give and take.

I’m aware that I’m not the friend folks have around. I’m a fun distraction at best and have been told and reminded as such. I feel like shit cuz my wife’s wonderful and the best person in my life, and yet I still mourn having close friends to hang with. I miss gaming together the most. Or the bullshitting. Sharing food.

I’m not a nice person. I’m working on it. I am. I’ve also, for years, been working on my own personal problems so as to not bring them into even conversations. I don’t know what I am doing wrong but I just.. can’t seem to keep anyone around. And frankly.

I find myself crying about it a lot with no idea what to do.

And. I’m burnt out.

I don’t want to make friends anymore. And yet I still crave it. Which sucks. I can’t stop seeming to want that. And I keep trying. And trying.

I’m trying to accept and be happy with any bit of time I get from the few friends who talk to me. I try to take my chances where I can to hang out (online, as they’re all distance by now), cuz I know it’s a short window and I’ll be lucky to get a next time in the near future.

Online is harder to provide a use, and once the ‘honeymoon phase’ of the friendship winds down, some drop off the map entirely. A few abruptly. And I just. That’s fucked me ho a ton. I can’t even express how many hours I stay sitting. Thinking. Unable to understand what I am not doing or what I am.

It’s a pity party. I know. But it’s fine. I’m still the only one at it and though I’m quite forward even with nerves eating away at me, I still just don’t know how to keep anyone in my life.

It’s taken almost 6 years for me to relax enough to believe my wife will, in fact, stick around.

But at this point in time, I’ve realized, on a note I just keep getting really sad over, that the bits of friendship I’ll get to experience with people, will be brief, snippets, and frankly, only if I am providing something they’re not getting.

I’m essentially the magazine next to the toilet when you have a bad bad stomach bug and your phones dead.

Man’s that’s.. probably my own doing. I know I’m a lot of woe is me in here. And it’s a post talking to me, so I’m indulging in it. I absolutely can’t out loud or in life. I’m working on just.. trying to feel instead of ignoring it. Per my therapists suggestions. So I feel fucking overwhelmed, sad, and alone. Isolated. Heavily.

Ignorance is bliss for real. I wish I wasn’t so aware that I was the friend you go to when all options are down and you’re bored. When you are in a bind and need a safe spot (I don’t mind that one but it does suck that it’s the only time some folks pop back in or up). That if I’m not working then no one even has a small little want to just say hi. I wish I had people who just wanted to say hi because they just.. missed me? I gues?

I wish I knew how to be better as a person and a friend. I thought I was making strides on that. I really had. And yet.

Here I am. Just.

Bitching to the void. Becuase my wife doesn’t need me to add more to her life with her father (finally back from the hospital after surgery) and his health concerned along with everyone else’s and the own sets of ordeals here. I don’t need her to fret over me.

She’s needed distraction and I’ve left her alone for a couple weeks now to her drawing. Probably one of the best things I did do for her was clean up a space for a literal drawing room for her. She’s happier for it. People compliment her art and she rather enjoys the well deserved attention.

I personally would love to have her around more. But I’m having a lot of bad shit days. Weeks at this point. And I’m using my energy to be useful in setting the table or doing the dishes, the cats, playing with the nephew, etc.

All I want to do is sleep.

Frankly. I’m tired of waking up.

But for her. I will.

#void screaming #ignore

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syms-things-5 · 5 years ago

Text

Clear The Area - Chapter Five

Previous chapter HERE

Warning: Language

Summary: Sarah gears up to explain her choice to meet with her birth mother and finds Chris to be a bigger comfort than he realises.

Note: Bit of a shorter one, sort of a bridge into the next few situations...

Chapter Five

It was an unusually cold afternoon in Concord. Sarah had opted for a run for the first time that week and took a scenic route through Emerson Park to view the new sculpture exhibition the Mayor had opened back in March. it was rare she this time to herself and she had found her anxiety spiking pretty badly of late. Running always seemed to help with that.

She circled back around through the local town centre but soon regretted decision when she had to take shelter in a shop doorway during a sudden downpour. Thankfully, it didn’t last long but the strangest thing happened on her way home: she would up buying cream cakes in Bryson’s Bakery a couple of blocks away from their apartment. Hell, she’d put in the effort. she deserved a sugary treat.

Walking into her apartment, she was greeted by an obscene number of shopping bags, suit bags, and what looked like a hat box. There was almost every designer brand she had ever heard of or at least had recognised from the episode of America’s Next Top Model Shan had made her watch that one time. Speaking of which, she could hear the enthusiastic chatter between Shanna, Carly and Lisa coming from Shan’s bedroom and managed to climb over the bags to find her kitchen as she’d left it, complete with movie star hiding out with a newspaper and a beer. Chris looked so chilled out, she was almost jealous. She looked down at her jogging clothes and the few extra pounds clinging to her thighs and then back at him dressed casually in a black tee and jeans, as toned as he ever was. Fucking effortless. Jerk. He hadn’t been to the gym in weeks - something he would proudly broadcast to anyone within earshot - yet still managed to avoid putting on a single pound. He was eating and drinking whatever he wanted. He was just lucky with his metabolism, he explained. It was a goddamn deal with the devil, thought Sarah.

Chris looked up from his paper in time to see Sarah walk in and clock the bags on the floor. It took him all of .4 of a second to eye the box in her hands. He loved Bryson’s. Often, one of the first things he would do when back in town, after seeing his family of course, was to buy whatever they had left in store. He figured at this point he was one of their most valuable customers, probably more so than the unnamed NFL player Chris was certain was Julian Edelman. He hoped more than anything else that Sarah might have a strawberry cream donut in there especially for him but kept this thought to himself until he could ascertain just how annoyed she was with the mess taking up space in her home.

“Sorry, it’s for my birthday party next week. Some designers sent some things over and Mom’s evidently lost her shit. Hey, have you heard of a designer called Migos?” Chris asked as Sarah planted the box down on the kitchen island. “There is a neon yellow jumpsuit by him that I think Shanna has chosen and honestly, it’s the worst.”

“Migos? No clue I’m afraid. Why are they all sending stuff over for your party?” She opened the box and handed him his donut. Chris could have kissed her.

“The production company thinks it would be a good idea for me to have some pictures taken for social media. Show I’m an average guy or something, so they sent some outfits for the girls to wear.” Chris shrugged, too wrapped up in the donut to overthink it. Sarah could have sworn she blinked once and it was gone.

“And you’re OK with that? I thought it was just going to be a small thing? Family and close friends?”

“Yeh, I’m OK with it, I guess. As soon as Mom found out, they all got really excited about it. Didn’t have the heart to say no.” He gestured to his family currently laughing in unison down the hall. “It’s OK. It’ll get Matt off my back for a while, too.”

It wasn’t often that Sarah felt sorry for him, all tall and handsome and wealthy as he was, but she knew he prided his privacy above all things where his career was concerned, and he tried hard to keep his loved ones out of the limelight as much as he could. This couldn’t have been a decision he took lightly. As casual as he was trying to come across now, she could tell her was nervous about it, about what would be said and where the pictures would end up.

“You know I could hook you up if you like?” he offered. “There’s a lot of stuff coming in apparently. I’d bet you look great in Chanel. It’s not neon, I promise.”

“What and spill something on it? I don’t think I could live with myself.” she scoffed, mouth half full of cheesecake.

Chris look a little wistful for a moment as a comfortable quietness fell on them while she enjoyed her cheesecake. Soon, the only sound filling the apartment came from two doors away as someone had clearly made a great choice, the distinctive sound of expensive heels clicking on the wooden floor. Sarah contemplated hiding the other cakes from them and keeping them for herself but knew she couldn’t go through with it.

“Do you think I’m boring?” She asked after a couple of minutes.

“Define boring.”

“How many different ways are there to define boring?”

“Well, there’s...” he looked up from his paper for a moment, trying to think. “No, you’re not boring.”

“OK. That took a while. Appreciate it.” she threw her fork into the sink.

“Who said you were boring?”

“No one, really. Just the other day Greg said I was unassuming.” She made air quotations with her fingers.

“Unassuming isn’t the same as boring.” he reasoned. “Unassuming just means you’re quiet, y’know? What you see is what you get type of thing.”

“And that’s not boring to you?”

“No. It’s nice. It’s....comforting.” He smiled trying to reassure her but saw the concern etched across her face. “Sarah, you’re not boring. I wouldn’t be here as much as I am if you were boring.”

“But I’m no exciting, am I? Like, you wouldn’t call me a risk-taker.” Sarah wasn’t sure if she was asking him a question much less wanting to hear an answer. Compared to some of the people Chris hun out with, she was practically Mother Theresa.

Chris couldn’t work out if she was laying a trap for him here. Her had flashbacks to conversations he’d experienced relationships, times when he tripped up. Do I suit this Givenchy? Do you think your co-star is pretty? Were those sex scenes easy to shoot? Often, he found, there was no right answer. Difference her was that Sarah wasn’t like that.

“Sarah, you wouldn’t suit being a risk-taker. Trust me. It doesn’t get you anywhere fast.” He sounded serious. “You don’t need that shit in your life.”

She was grateful, of course she was, but nothing could stop the niggling doubts in the back of her mind that maybe she played things a little too safe at times. Why did she feel awkward accepting a date with Greg? He was nice and clearly into her. Maybe she was a little too quiet and careful. Maybe she could afford to be a little rash with her decisions every once in a while. What harm could be done? Audrey was right. She could learn to have a little more fun without worrying about the consequences.

“Sarah! We thought we’d missed you!” Carly came bouncing into the kitchen and wrapped her arms around Sarah’s shoulders from behind where she was sat. “Chris, you should see some of the clothes and shoes. I don’t know how you could ever get tired of this.”

Chris flicked his gaze to Sarah who looked a little apologetic, before he turned back to Carly. “Well, I’m glad you guys are having a lot of fun. Figured it out yet?”

Carly nodded. “Oh my god, yes! You’re gonna be so proud of us baby bro! Hey, Sarah? Have you figured out your plans with your folks? They should be arriving soon, right?”

“Um, yeh, that’s a good point actually. I should probably check in to see where they’re at. I’m not actually sure they remember when I live.” She grabbed her phone from her pocket and headed to her bedroom where it was quieter and she could focus on something different. She closed her door and took a breath. This wasn’t what she needed to be worrying about right now, whether a guy she was - at best - half interested in seeing thought she was a “safe” option. Her folks would be arriving at some point that day and she could look forward to spending some much needed time with them. That was all that mattered.

She located Jocelyn’s number in her iPhone and hovered her thumb over the dial, psyching herself up to call. Just as she was about to do it, Chris appeared in her bedroom holding up a garment bah with the unmistakable Chanel logo emblazoned across it.

“i grabbed this for you. Seriously, take a look. It’s pretty cute and it might make you feel better.” he laid the bag carefully on your bed, stroking down the front to remove any creases. Sarah was grateful. The only other time she’d worn a designer brand was at her graduation ceremony and she kept the label attached inside so she could return it afterwards.

“Thanks Chris. That’s really kind.” she smiled at him. Chris paused a second before backing out of her door, aware that she was gearing up to call her folks.

“Hey, just for the record?” he stopped and leaned back into her bedroom, arm leaning on the door frame. “I think you’re great just the way you are.”

Next Chapter HERE

#chris evans #chris fic #chris evans fic #sarah bernette #chris evans x original female character #clear the area #evans fic #Syms Writing

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ask-de-writer · 5 years ago

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LOST TIME (part 1 of 3) A fantasy of Flocking Bay.

Return to the Master Story Index

Return to Flocking Bay

LOST TIME

De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)

5556 words

written 2003

Reproduction in any form, physical, electronic or digital is prohibited without the express written consent of the author or proper copyright holder.

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Users of Tumblr.com are specifically granted the following rights. They may reblog the story. They may use the characters or original characters in my settings for fan fiction, fan art works, cosplay, or fan musical compositions. I will allow those who do commission art works to charge for their images.

All sorts of Fan Activity, fiction, art, cosplay, music or anything else is ACTIVELY encouraged!

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It stands out even in the dark ... It shouldn’t. It’s just a house. A damned old house. Not even that old really, not for New England. It’s a two story salt-box style with an observation deck under a cupola at the peak. It is probably just the setting. Rusty old iron fence, gnarled elderly trees, unkempt lawn not quite out of control, windows that the neighborhood kids haven’t broken. It should be a witch’s house but it isn’t. It is mine. I just closed on it yesterday.

The kids are going to have a field day this time. I don’t like the daylight... been on night shift as far back as I can remember. That’s a longish way back. But I’m not a witch, nor vampire. Nothing exotic that I know of. I’m just one of those people (you probably know one or two) who don’t show their age. If you envy me, think again. YOU try to explain to a traffic cop why your ID has you pegged for seventy+ and you don’t look over twenty. I carry a copy of my fingerprint record from the military, because they can check that.

Funny part of it is, I really don’t have the slightest idea how old I am. Traumatic amnesia the doctors called it, during the war. The head wound was minor, they said.

That is a matter of opinion. It robbed me of my past, my name, my identity, my loves and hates but left my skills intact. I was an empty shell. I am still trying to find my past.

The name that I use comes from more or less modern myth. Vandervekken. The Flying Dutchman. Wandering Dutchman would be more accurate. He sails the seas off the Cape of Good Hope until Judgment Day. He can’t find his home either. I bought the house because it is the first place that I have seen in over fifty years where I want to stay. You explain it.

The rusty gate opened silently, thanks to the bit of oil that I put on the hinges. Going up the uneven walk, between the looming trees is an experience. The door lock is old-fashioned but still works smoothly. Covered furniture could have made ghosts to haunt the place, if I were superstitious or given to being easily frightened.

As I said, I like the night. I even enjoy things with a bit of a spooky atmosphere. I also like antiques and handcrafted things which is why, if I ever find out who did it, I will cheerfully throttle whatever philistine covered the finely inlaid hardwood parquetry floors with battleship gray paint.

Stripping and refinishing those floors was on my priority job list. Actually, I shouldn’t beef too much. Pointing out the problem got me a price reduction of nearly $2000 on an already underpriced house with all of its furniture as part of the deal. Estates can be wonderful when you are on a tight budget. Too bad that someone else had to die to create my good fortune.

As I pulled the dust covers from the furniture, I saw that my good fortune was been complete. It was all sturdy, hand-carved hardwood with Chinese silk brocade upholstery. The furniture alone was worth what I had paid for the house and contents. The tops of even the smallest hall tables were inlaid with rich veneers, ivory and mother of pearl. You couldn’t buy furniture like this any more. Besides the cost, the ivory in the inlays is no longer legal to obtain. I could get as much from the sale of just one or two pieces as I could from a year of writing if I could bring myself to part with any of this treasure. It just feels like the house would not be complete without it.

Whoever it was that had died and left this for me to have has whatever blessings it is in my power to bestow. The only wonder is that this place stayed on the market long enough for me to find it. Usually, deals like this get snapped up by the real-estate brokers before people like me ever see them.

When I got to the kitchen, I received another little jolt. I knew that it was fairly up to date, but some thoughtful soul had stocked the fridge and set out a bit of a snack for me. Just cookies and a glass for the milk, which was staying cold in the cooler. Thoughtful. I wondered who did it.

While munching on the cookies, I opened a few windows to air the place out a bit. Going out to my car, I saw that the flags of the walk needed leveling because of the weeds that grew up between them. I drove around to the alley behind the place, opened the garage and parked Lilitu, my classic pre-war Packard touring car. She looked right at home in there. Few, even of modern garages were big enough for her. I ferried my few personal goods up to the house. On my last trip, I saw a couple of wide-eyed kids looking over the back fence.

“Told ya, told ya so!” one of them chanted. “There’s somebody sneakin’ inta the ol’ Vekin place!”

“I wouldn’t call it sneaking, to move into your own place,” I answered as civilly as I could manage. “I just bought it. Why do you call it the Vekin place?”

“If ya ain’t sneakin’, why ya goin’ in the back way? An’ after dark, too?” she shot back. I could now see that they were a girl and a boy. She was obviously in charge.

“I like nights. I’m a writer, so I can keep any hours I like. Why is it the Vekin place?” I asked again.

“Dun’no - Crazy guy named Vekin used to live there,” she contradicted herself.

“Lot of folks tried to buy the place since then,” the boy piped in.

“But nobody ever stays,” the girl finished for him firmly.

“So, this is the neighborhood’s haunted house?” I inquired jovially.

“No,” was as far as the boy got.

“Its down the street, on t’other side,” she cut in.

“I looked at that one,” I said thoughtfully. “The old Victorian. Somebody’s broken out all the windows. Not like here. If the Vekin house is so bad, why hasn’t some kid chucked rocks at it?”

“‘Cause we’re not THAT crazy!” exclaimed The boy, getting out a whole thought. The girl gave him a push, and they ran off into the night.

I got up about noon, after the most restful night’s sleep that I’d had since the War. After my breakfast and a quiet tour of the place from attic to basement, I went out. My goal was the local newspaper. THE FLOCKING BAY VOICE was sprawled across the plate glass window in Old English style letters of gold leaf and black. Smaller letters proclaimed Est. 1841. I pushed open the door. My nose was assaulted by the multiple odors of printer’s ink, paper and grease. The VOICE occupied one large room. An elderly web press crouched at the back of the space, behind several rolls of newsprint. Cubicles made offices in the middle of the room. An old oak counter that had once seen duty as a bar had several signs suspended over it on thin chains. They read ‘submissions’, ‘advertisements’, ‘subscriptions’, ‘billing’.

There was a bell on the counter. Some wag had put a sign on it, “Please ring bell, it won’t help but it will give you something to do.” I gave myself something to do, energetically, a few times.

A trim little blond lady answered the bell’s summons. She wore a green eyeshade and a pin on her sweater announced, ‘Lois Martin - cook, bottle washer & EDITOR in CHIEF.’ “What can I do for you, today?” she asked.

“I came to see what I can find out about the Vekin place,” I answered, trying not to stare at her.

“Just a moment, I’ll get the file out of the morgue. I was going to get it anyway. Somebody went and bought the place again.”

“Wait a minute,” I protested. “Someone buys a house and that makes news in Flocking Bay? This town must be even quieter than it looks.”

“Oh,” she retorted, “it can get downright interesting around here when the old Vekin place sells. You’ll see.” She disappeared among the cubicles and I heard her feet clattering down a flight of stairs. I heard a file drawer creak and slide, then slam shut. It wasn’t long before she reappeared, a rather fat file clutched in her hand.

“If you’d like, we can have lunch over at Mike’s Soda Shop,” she proposed. “He makes decent submarine sandwiches and real ice-cream sodas.”

“Well ... ” I pretended to hesitate, “I haven’t been invited out by a beautiful blond in a long time, so, yes.”

“I hope that I haven’t just made a fool of myself,” she remarked, laying aside the eyeshade. “You are Mr. Vandervekken aren’t you? The man who just bought the place?”

“Too true,” I said.

“Then I’ll make it an interview and deduct it from my taxes,” she smiled.

“You make enough to pay taxes?” I asked, looking back as we crossed the street.

“I have hidden assets. The paper is a tax shelter.” She opened the door of Mike’s and ushered me in.

As I was seating her, I just couldn’t help blurting out, “Your assets seem to be pretty obvious.”

She grinned, “Go ahead and stare. I don’t mind. If I did, I wouldn’t wear a snug sweater and put my pin just here.” She pointed, then added, “Looking at it will keep you off your guard while I ask my questions.”

“OK, Ms. Martin, but let me look at the file first. You can order for me. You know the food here,” I said, reaching for the file.

“Lois,” she replied, “call me Lois, everyone else does.” Then she hollered to the man behind the counter, “Oh, Mike! Two butterscotch sodas and a big turkey sub! Divide it in half!”

“How did you know that I liked butterscotch?” I asked. “It’s not that common a preference these days.”

“I just had a hunch, that’s all. You looked like another butterscotch type person.”

I was leafing through the file on the rather beat-up table while we waited. I couldn’t resist snorting with amusement at the name of the house’s builder. Capt. Von Der Vekin. The house had been built in 1894 by the Capt. and his elusive son, Charles. Nobody had ever seen Charles until he came into town, on April 1st, 1900, to report his father’s demise and burial on the property. He ordered a headstone hewn of the local limestone. Charles had returned from WW I with honors and lived quietly, claiming to be a writer, though nobody ever saw any of his work in print. When asked, all that he would say was ‘Pseudonyms are great for privacy’. He was not so lucky when he volunteered to assist the French resistance in 1939. He never came home.

Next==>

Return to the Master Story Index

Return to Flocking Bay

#LOST TIME #Part 1 of 3 #Flocking Bay #Written by De Writer

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formerlyrunephoenix6769 · 6 years ago

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Shelby Deveruex, or rather Sarah as she was known in certain circles before she had married, was not a privileged woman, however that did not mean that she was not comfortable. She was the wife of a successful and respected merchant, his business sometimes carrying him off to the far corners of the known world for months on end.

Ask anyone in the bustling hub of the trading town nestled in the Harque region and they would tell you that Shelby was a good individual. She taught the Sunday school, paying extra attention to those that struggled. She was courteous and polite, regardless of anyone's station. She and her husband would always stock the apples for the apple bobbing stall at the Harvest dance and they would always be willing over look a payment on groceries if a family fell on hard times.

All in all, she was a kind natured soul. And she was, but as with all things, there are always two sides to a tale.

Unbeknownst to her neighbours she had for a brief period been under the tutelage of a Grand High Mystic, before he had been brutally murdered, burnt at the stake for heresy and witchcraft. He had kept his tongue, refusing to name his brethren, giving her chance to get away and find herself a new life.

Now, she kept her beliefs and practises under firm wraps. She busied herself with the Church and the goings on of the locals to throw off suspicion. She even went so far as to dress down and not draw attention to her striking features. She would pull her long, silky dark brown hair into a braid and wear clothes that allowed very little skin to show.

Nobody pointed a finger and made accusations of witch craft as fast as a jealous, attention starved wife.

She would laugh internally at the Father on the pulpit at Mass, mouth foaming with fanaticism as he ranted and raved about the goings on of the Witches.

She couldn't ever remember being naked, dancing round a fire in the dead of night. Well there was that one time at the Summer Solstice but that had been her initiation, she had been quite drunk on mead so that didn't count. She most certainly didn't eat children and she had no idea what enjoyment anyone would derive from cursing a cow.

Animals got sick, just the same as people.

Being she was ever cautious, she could not pay homage to Gaia as much as she would like, too afraid that she would be discovered, but was one part of her heritage that she could openly embrace and she did.

Her familiar.

Her majestic white dove, Ashel.

Many of the townsfolk commented that the sight of Ashel perched upon the roof of Shelby's dwelling, or high up on the Church tower brought them a sense of peace and well being. Ashel truly was a sign.

Shelby's husband had bought a pair and she had explained to the fascinated townsfolk that the breeding pair would help her and her husband communicate. They could tie tiny scrolls to their legs and the cock would fly off to find its hen. There had been a chorus of warm sighs and aww's .

It was a pile of codswallop.

Her husband had been intercepted by one of her fellow Mystics and encouraged to buy the pair, there by delivering her new familiar straight to her door.

If her husband had cared to look he would have seen that the birds weren't even the same breed. Her dove was almost twice the size of the other.

When her husband had left with his, she had muttered good riddance. Needless to say, a 'dove letter' never arrived and she feigned sympathy at her husband's loss when he returned and found his cock had not.

However her dove Ashel did do her job to perfection, flying fair and wide over the countryside delivering her words to her scattered sisters and returning with the important news.

One such scroll had done just that.

She tossed a handful of grain out onto the thoroughfare outside her shop for the hungry birds. Ashel bobbed and weaved amongst the red feathered hens that clucked and pecked at the bright yellow kernels amongst the dry earth.

"Hi Mrs D" a small boy called out as he led his bare foot little sister down the road.

"Bonjour Pascal,." She replied with a grin and a wave. " I have something for Celine and you.”

She leaned over the counter and retrieved the parchment, with its raised dots and divets, grooves and swirls and two apples.

“For you , both.”

Pascal swiftly took the apples, one disappearing and the other firmly clamped between his teeth. Shelby watched as he made a show of sniffing the offered fruit , his eyes darting to and fro, and offering the apple back out,

“You bite it first!”

Shelby bit deeply. Her nose crinkled, her eyes went wide. She couldn’t breath. Sweeping his sister behind him, Pascal took a few steps back.

Shelby coughed, her eyes watered.

A small hand reached out for the fabric or her dress..

“Miss,-”

Shelby chewed and swallowed,

“Was expecting it to be sweeter!”

She offered it back to Pascal, who eagerly bit into it, tasting it before offering the rest to his sister.

Kneeling down, she regarded the girl,

“Celine, I have a little something,.. Just for you ..And your..”

Reaching out, finger tips touched parchment.

“What is it?”

“Feel it..”

Unrolling it, her finger tips explored the surface. Her brows crinkled before breaking into a smile,

“Merci, Ms Deveruex.”

Taking the apple out of her brother’s unexpected grasp she giggled, before taking a bite and tossing it back at him.

Pascal fumbled,

“what does it say?? Show me.. “

“Noo, why should I?”

“Cause I wanna see!”

“duuh, that’s the whole point, dum dum.”

Shelby called out,

“Make sure you know all the Saints by morning."

He returned it with a gapped toothed smile and an enthusiastic wave of his own hand.

"I will. ..See you tomorrow."

Celine laughed,

“But I wont!”

Shelby watched with a warm smile as the two began playing catch up, the footbeats keeping time with each other.

Checking the coast was clear, Shelby leant back against the warm brickwork, slowly teasing open the miniscule scroll.

If found by prying eyes, it would look like a jumble of simple words. However the seemingly random words held more meaning to those that could decipher them. Shelby had learnt plenty under her tutor's watchful eye and she had turned into a more than competent Mystic.

She was fluent in a her own languages , merchant sign, and feter speak.

The news upon the parchment was distressing indeed.

Everybody in the region knew of the story of the place that was hidden with in the streets of the neighbouring trading town.

For nearly thirty years the residence had remained empty. Bold teenage boys did not dare each other to prove their manliness and even vagabonds dare not seek shelter with in its walls.

Shelby herself would have been but a teenager when word of the vile atrocity had been whispered and murmured by merchants and tradesmen in the ale houses of her village.

Small papers had been written and pictures drawn. Townsfolk and farmers alike crowding round those that could read, listening in hushed silence,

In the early morning an apprentice ostler from one of the inns had come running to retrieve the Doctor and had stumbled upon an horrific scene.

The room was in disarray, furniture splintered, tables over turned. Blood lined the walls and even dripped from the ceiling. Amongst the chaos lay the bodies of the family, drenched in their own blood.

One of the boys had been so brutally beaten, his skull caved, he was completely recognizable. Another had had his throat torn out, as if gnawed on by a savage hound. Their limbs snapped and bent at eye watering angles.

The most heart wrenching part had been the infant sister. Beneath the broken and mutilated bodies of her brothers and Father, she had been discovered curled in a ball, wearing her older sister's sleep shirt. The five year old little girl looked as if she was sleeping, still clutching her teddy to her chest. The shit and urine stains on her shirt tail the only outward indication that she had witnessed the horror which would be her last memories on earth.

The rumor mill had gone into over drive, washer women and midwifes gossiping amongst themselves.

Some speculated a robbery gone wrong. Passing bandits or mercenaries thinking a Doctor must have riches.

Others, a deranged patient, wild and feral with madness.

Some held the travelling gypsies responsible.

Disturbingly, some claimed that Doctor himself had killed his family consumed with grief due to the tragic loss of his eldest and by all accounts the apple of his eye, his wilful, eldest Daughter.

The culprit was never found or brought to justice. So many new faces based through the hub of the large trading town on a daily basis the sheriff had no idea where to begin his investigation. Instead the crime had slipped into obscurity, whispered as a grim fairytale to frighten wilful children.

"If you don't go to sleep the Doctor with come and gobble you up!"

Somebody had painstakingly tended to their graves over the long years and the locals sighed that at least the Lopez clan had reunited in the afterlife

But the tiny scrap of paper in the palm of Shelby's hand said other wise.

Santana was alive, well as alive as a vampire could be.

Shelby knew that many of the cunning folk were vehement purists and would not hesitate to exterminate the Undesirable, she viewed them as lacking vision for their future.

But times had changed, they were in the middle of a war and they were losing.

The Mystic covens were weak and were too few. They had been hunted to the brink of extinction. Apprentices no longer came knocking on their door, eager to learn herb lore and the ways of the Orders.

Once over, finding youngsters with a knack or natural talent had been easy, now the boys listened to gold and the girls doted on husbands and possessions. People no longer cared for the flow of energies that came from the land. They no longer paid homage to Gaia or the Horned One on the Solstice.

The cunning folks power and knowledge passed via the word of mouth, if there was nobody to pass it to, all would be lost.

Maybe a creature like Santana was exactly what they needed to change the tide?

Who knew the power that her blood might hold? Who knew the potions and charms that could be created from it.

Shelby had heard tale that some Vampires had abilities and she wondered for a moment if they might carry through.

They had to get to Santana first and the Vagabond would be perfect man in mind for the job.

Quickly, she made her way inside into the gloom the shop. She clicked her fingers and muttered a quick charm in Swato, causing the lantern on the counter to ignite. Deftly she plucked the quill out of the ink well, beside the accounts ledger ignoring how the ink dribbled upon the stained wood.

Hurriedly, she wrote out a message on the back of the small scroll, signing it with her usual code. Abandoning the feather upon the counter, she rolled the paper as tightly as she could before making her way back outside.

Shelby clucked her tongue. Ashel gave a small flap of her dazzling white wings, alighting on her Mistress' outreached arm. The bird purred and blinked, patiently waiting. As Shelby began to affix the letter into the miniscule holder on the dove's leg, she affectionately coo'ed,

"I know my sweet.." The bird bobbed her head, narrowing her eyes. Shelby continued, "I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important."

The white bird gave a flicker of its wings as the Hedge witch stroked its head lovingly. Bringing Ashel closer to her lips, she uttered, faintly,

"Find the Vagabond."

With a swing of her arm, she helped launch her beloved guardian into the air, marvelling how effortless the bird moved. She remained in the thoroughfare, staring up into the summer evening sky until Ashel became a speck, lost against the back drop of lazy clouds.

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houseofvans · 7 years ago

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ART SCHOOL | RACHEL KATSTALLER

Inspired by traveling, architecture, seasonal fashion, and Nature, Austrian Alps based artist Rachel Katstaller's illustrations center around strong female figures and playful bold colors. With upcoming various book projects, including her first children’s book, Rachel balances her work and life with skateboarding, travel, as well as volunteering at her local animal shelter. We find out more about Rachel’s artistic process, her art school tip, and about some of her upcoming projects in 2018 – including her first board graphic!

Make the Leap!

Photographs by Florian Trattner

Introduce yourself? Hi there! My name is Rachel Katstaller, and I’m an illustrator from a teeny tiny country in the Central American tropics. Two years ago I moved to the Austrian Alps with my Salvadorian street cat Hemingway, who terribly misses the palm trees and warm tropical weather back home.

Tell us a little about your illustrations. How would you describe your work to someone who is just coming across it? My work centers around strong female figures and playful color palettes. These are deeply inspired by the vivid color combinations you can find when traveling in the tropics.

When did you first get into drawing? Who were some of your early artistic influences? What artists inspire you these days? Ever since I picked up a pencil as a kid I’ve never stopped drawing, but I honestly never expected to be able to turn it into a career. I graduated and worked as a designer for a while, but it never really fulfilled me. Four years ago I decided to take the leap and pursue my real dream of becoming an illustrator. It’s been quite a ride with lots of ups and very low downs, but I’d never turn back!

My very earliest influences where definitely my grandparents, both architects who loved to make beautiful sketches of cities or oil paintings of Salvadorian market days. Also the gorgeous use of space and color by Miró counts as one of my earliest inspirations. Nowadays I find myself always checking out work by other wonderful illustrators and artists such as Carson Ellis, Tuesday Bassen and Cleon Peterson to name a few.

Take us through your artistic process? What’s a typical day in the studio like? Inspiration strikes at very strange times sometimes, so whenever I have an idea for a new illustration, I start working it through in my head, imagining shapes and colors. Once I get to the studio I most of the times just lay out the colors I want for the piece, sketch it and then get to work on the final art. It all sounds super easy and fast, but sometimes these ideas shape themselves through several days in my head until I finally see them clearly enough to put them to paper. Sometimes it feels like it takes forever! I’m a creature of habit and that’s why I try to have very regular office hours during the week. I’m the most motivated and creative in the mornings, or in the late afternoon so those hours are mainly reserved to paint and draw and dedicate myself to being creative. Afternoons I spend writing e-mails and planning out ideas, working on my online shop and mapping out personal projects. Before leaving I always make sure my workspace is clean and organized so that I have a blank slate to begin with the next day!

What are your essential art tools and materials? I love jumping from one medium to the other, it all depends on the project and client, as well as what feeling I wish to convey through my pieces. Of late I have loved combining gouache with colored pencil textures, as well as graphite. But I also love working digitally in Photoshop with my Wacom tablet, since this allows for mistakes to be easily corrected.

It’s mentioned that you’re currently living in the Alps. How has this environment or that city influenced the work you create? What’s your favorite thing about residing there? Yes, I’ve been here for a bit now and I absolutely love it! Back in Central America we only have two seasons (rainy and dry), so actually being able to have four different seasons has been quite the experience. I love how the colors change over the course of the year, not only in nature but also in how people dress, it definitely influences my work. I also draw inspiration from architecture, which is so very different in every place I’ve visited. It’s a constant source of ideas. But what I think has been my favorite thing about living here has to be having taken up skateboarding. I’m a terrible skateboarder, almost deeply embarrassing so, but I try to get as much practice as I can. It’s led me to a wonderfully supportive group of girl skaters with whom I enjoy spending time with. They not only inspire my art but also motivate me to keep practicing and keep challenging myself to become better!

What was your last adventure that showed up in one of your illustrations, thematically or just visually? Maybe not my last but my favorite adventure was last year, when I went to Tromsø, Norway for the first time to see the northern lights. The whole 10 days I was there the sky was cloudy plus the full moon didn’t allow us to see anything! I was super disappointed about leaving without really having seen them. On our very last night there, my friends went to a party but I decided to stay home and go to bed early. I took a walk outside of the house and saw the northern lights just above me. It was such a magical experience and one that I will definitely never forget!

What advice would you give someone who wants to follow in your footsteps and pursue art? It is hard to give advice to others as I pretty much still feel really small and insignificant in the art and illustration world! It is easy to feel lost and as if what you do doesn’t really matter. What I’ve found has helped me to keep moving forward is to stay as true as I can to myself and my own journey as an artist. The work we do is a reflection of our inner selves, so as we grow, so does our art. Try to not look at others and compare yourself to them. Even if it sounds impossible at times, believe in yourself!

What’s your best Art School tip that you want to share with folks? I will have to second Martin Ontiveros and say that copying is not always the proper way to praise another artist’s work. Finding your voice as an artist is a long process and there are no shortcuts to get there. It’s totally ok to get inspired by other artists, but you are unique and your work should be too.

What’s been your biggest challenge career wise and how have you overcome it or how do you continue to persevere against these challenges? My biggest challenge as an illustrator so far has been keeping constantly inspired and motivated to create new work. Last year, after working really hard on some big projects, I found myself feeling completely empty of any good new ideas. Instead of taking a break, I just continued to push myself harder and getting more and more frustrated at myself for not delivering. This brought me close to burnout and it ended up becoming a vicious cycle of sorts. I’m slowly learning to listen to myself and understand that it’s ok to need breaks from work. I’ve realized how important time off is, how traveling helps me find new ideas and refreshing ways to see the world.

What are your favorite style of VANS? Definitely the Old Skool Pro, they combine comfiness with great style!

How are you not just ONE thing? Illustration is a very lonely job, I spend hours cooped up in the studio working and concentrating on my things. That’s why I’m extremely grateful for skateboarding. It’s as much a relieve from work as it is a downtime to connect with others. Nothing compares to hanging out with my friends and challenging myself to try out new things. I’ve also found purpose in what I do when I find that my art connects or resonates with others, even when they’re hundreds of miles away. Central America still is going through major issues regarding women’s rights and it’s something that I like voicing through my work, in the hopes it reaches the right hearts and minds. I recently collaborated with the “No Estamos Todas” project in Mexico, illustrating a victim of femicide. It’s a horrible side of our reality back home, but one that needs to be talked about and put at the center of our attention. I’m also a cat mother and do volunteer work for the shelter where my cat comes from. I try to help out as much as I can through my work and give back to the community.

What’s coming up for you the rest of 2018? I’m as much excited as I am anxious about this year to be honest. I have some big book projects coming up, one of them being the first children’s book I also do the writing for! I’m also launching some skate related merch mid year, which will include my very first board graphic (keep checking my Insta for updates! :)). I can’t even explain how excited I am!

In between projects I hope to have some time to dedicate to myself and develop my art practice further, working on personal projects and just enjoying the process of creating! Thank you so much for interviewing me!

Follow Rachel | Website | Instagram | Shop | Las Furias

#Art #Vans #Vans Art #Vans Girls #Art School #Rachel Katstaller #Illustration #Interview

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elisabettacormac · 3 years ago

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Ian Rankin

No Sanity Clause

It was all Edgar Allan Poe’s fault. Either that or the Scottish Parliament. Joey Briggs was spending most of his days in the run-up to Christmas sheltering from Edinburgh’s biting December winds. He’d been walking up George IV Bridge one day and had watched a down-and-out slouching into the Central Library. Joey had hesitated. He wasn’t a down-and-out, not yet anyway. Maybe he would be soon, if Scully Aitchison MSP got his way, but for now Joey had a bedsit and a trickle of state cash. Thing was, nothing made you miss money more than Christmas. The shop windows displayed their magnetic pull. There were queues at the cash machines. Kids tugged on their parents’ sleeves, ready with something new to add to the present list. Boyfriends were out buying gold, while families piled the food trolley high.

And then there was Joey, nine weeks out of prison and nobody to call his friend. He knew there was nothing waiting for him back in his home town. His wife had taken the children and tiptoed out of his life. Joey’s sister had written to him in prison with the news. So, eleven months on, Joey had walked through the gates of Saughton Jail and taken the first bus into the city centre, purchased an evening paper and started the hunt for somewhere to live.

The bedsit was fine. It was one of four in a tenement basement just off South Clerk Street, sharing a kitchen and bathroom. The other men worked, didn’t say much. Joey’s room had a gas fire with a coin-meter beside it, too expensive to keep it going all day. He’d tried sitting in the kitchen with the stove lit, until the landlord had caught him. Then he’d tried steeping in the bath, topping up the hot. But the water always seemed to run cold after half a tub.

‘You could try getting a job,’ the landlord had said.

Not so easy with a prison record. Most of the jobs were for security and nightwatch. Joey didn’t think he’d get very far there.

Following the tramp into the library was one of his better ideas. The uniform behind the desk gave him a look, but didn’t say anything. Joey wandered the stacks, picked out a book and sat himself down. And that was that. He became a regular, the staff acknowledged him with a nod and sometimes even a smile. He kept himself presentable, didn’t fall asleep the way some of the old guys did. He read for much of the day, alternating between fiction, biographies and textbooks. He read up on local history, plumbing and Winston Churchill, Nigel Tranter’s novels and National Trust gardens. He knew the library would close over Christmas, didn’t know what he’d do without it. He never borrowed books, because he was afraid they’d have him on some blacklist: convicted housebreaker and petty thief, not to be trusted with loan material.

He dreamt of spending Christmas in one of the town’s posh hotels, looking out across Princes Street Gardens to the Castle. He’d order room service and watch TV. He’d take as many baths as he liked. They’d clean his clothes for him and return them to the room. He dreamt of the presents he’d buy himself: a big radio with a CD player, some new shirts and pairs of shoes; and books. Plenty of books.

The dream became almost real to him, so that he found himself nodding off in the library, coming to as his head hit the page he’d been reading. Then he’d have to concentrate, only to find himself drifting into a warm sleep again.

Until he met Edgar Allan Poe.

It was a book of poems and short stories, among them ‘The Purloined Letter’. Joey loved that, thought it was really clever the way you could hide something by putting it right in front of people. Something that didn’t look out of place, people would just ignore it. There’d been a guy in Saughton, doing time for fraud. He’d told Joey: ‘Three things: a suit, a haircut and an expensive watch. If you’ve got those, it’s amazing what you can get away with.’ He’d meant that clients had trusted him, because they’d seen something they were comfortable with, something they expected to see. What they hadn’t seen was what was right in front of their noses, to wit: a shark, someone who was going to take a big bite out of their savings.

As Joey’s eyes flitted back over Poe’s story, he started to get an idea. He started to get what he thought was a very good idea indeed. Problem was, he needed what the fraudster had called ‘the start-up’, meaning some cash. He happened to look across to where one of the old tramps was slumped on a chair, the newspaper in front of him unopened. Joey looked around: nobody was watching. The place was dead: who had time to go to the library when Christmas was around the corner? Joey walked over to the old guy, slipped a hand into his coat pocket. Felt coins and notes, bunched his fingers around them. He glanced down at the newspaper. There was a story about Scully Aitchison’s campaign. Aitchison was the MSP who wanted all offenders put on a central register, open to public inspection. He said law-abiding folk had the right to know if their neighbour was a thief or a murderer – as if stealing was the same as killing somebody! There was a small photo of Aitchison, too, beaming that self-satisfied smile, his glasses glinting. If Aitchison got his way, Joey would never get out of the rut.

Not unless his plan paid off.

*****

John Rebus saw his girlfriend kissing Santa Claus. There was a German Market in Princes Street Gardens. That was where Rebus was to meet Jean. He hadn’t expected to find her in a clinch with a man dressed in a red suit, black boots and snowy-white beard. Santa broke away and moved off, just as Rebus was approaching. German folk songs were blaring out. There was a startled look on Jean’s face.

‘What was that all about?’ he asked.

‘I don’t know.’ She was watching the retreating figure. ‘I think maybe he’s just had too much festive spirit. He came up and grabbed me.’ Rebus made to follow, but Jean stopped him. ‘Come on, John. Season of goodwill and all that.’

‘It’s assault, Jean.’

She laughed, regaining her composure. ‘You’re going to take St Nicholas down the station and put him in the cells?’ She rubbed his arm. ‘Let’s forget it, eh? The fun starts in ten minutes.’

Rebus wasn’t too sure that the evening was going to be ‘fun’. He spent every day bogged down in crimes and tragedies. He wasn’t sure that a ‘mystery dinner’ was going to offer much relief. It had been Jean’s idea. There was a hotel just across the road. You all went in for dinner, were handed envelopes telling you which character you’d be playing. A body was discovered, and then you all turned detective.

‘It’ll be fun,’ Jean insisted, leading him out of the gardens. She had three shopping bags with her. He wondered if any of them were for him. She’d asked for a list of his Christmas wants, but so far all he’d come up with were a couple of CDs by String Driven Thing.

As they entered the hotel, they saw that the mystery evening was being held on the mezzanine floor. Most of the guests had already gathered and were enjoying glasses of cava. Rebus asked in vain for a beer.

‘Cava’s included in the price,’ the waitress told him. A man dressed in Victorian costume was checking names and handing out carrier bags.

‘Inside,’ he told Jean and Rebus, ‘you’ll find instructions, a secret clue that only you know, your name, and an item of clothing.’

‘Oh,’ Jean said, ‘I’m Little Nell.’ She fixed a bonnet to her head. ‘Who are you, John?’

‘Mr Bumble.’ Rebus produced his name-tag and a yellow woollen scarf, which Jean insisted on tying around his neck.

‘It’s a Dickensian theme, specially for Christmas,’ the host revealed, before moving off to confront his other victims. Everyone looked a bit embarrassed, but most were trying for enthusiasm. Rebus didn’t doubt that a couple of glasses of wine over dinner would loosen a few Edinburgh stays. There were a couple of faces he recognised. One was a journalist, her arm around her boyfriend’s waist. The other was a man who appeared to be with his wife. He had one of those looks to him, the kind that says you should know him. She was blonde and petite and about a decade younger than her husband.

‘Isn’t that an MSP?’ Jean whispered.

‘His name’s Scully Aitchison,’ Rebus told her.

Jean was reading her information sheet. ‘The victim tonight is a certain Ebenezer Scrooge,’ she said.

‘And did you kill him?’

She thumped his arm. Rebus smiled, but his eyes were on the MSP. Aitchison’s face was bright red. Rebus guessed he’d been drinking since lunchtime. His voice boomed across the floor, broadcasting the news that he and Catriona had booked a room for the night, so they wouldn’t have to drive back to the constituency.

They were all mingling on the mezzanine landing. The room where they’d dine was just off to the right, its doors still closed. Guests were starting to ask each other which characters they were playing. As one elderly lady – Miss Havisham on her name-tag – came over to ask Jean about Little Nell, Rebus saw a red-suited man appear at the top of the stairs. Santa carried what looked like a half-empty sack. He started making his way across the floor, but was stopped by Aitchison.

‘J’accuse!’ the MSP bawled. ‘You killed Scrooge because of his inhumanity to his fellow man!’ Aitchison’s wife came to the rescue, dragging her husband away, but Santa’s eyes seemed to follow them. As he made to pass Rebus, Rebus fixed him with a stare.

‘Jean,’ he asked, ‘is he the same one …?’

She only caught the back of Santa’s head. ‘They all look alike to me,’ she said.

Santa was on his way to the next flight of stairs. Rebus watched him leave, then turned back to the other guests, all of them now tricked out in odd items of clothing. No wonder Santa had looked like he’d stumbled into an asylum. Rebus was reminded of a Marx Brothers line, Groucho trying to get Chico’s name on a contract, telling him to sign the sanity clause.

But, as Chico said, everyone knew there was no such thing as Sanity Clause.

*****

Joey jimmied open his third room of the night. The Santa suit worked a treat. Okay, so it was hot and uncomfortable, and the beard was itching his neck, but it worked! He’d breezed through reception and up the stairs. So far, as he’d worked the corridors all he’d had were a few jokey comments. No one from security asking him who he was. No guests becoming suspicious. He fitted right in, and he was right under their noses.

God bless Edgar Allan Poe.

The woman in the fancy dress shop had even thrown in a sack, saying he’d be wanting to fill it. How true: in the first bedroom, he’d dumped out the crumpled sheets of old newspaper and started filling the sack – clothes, jewellery, the contents of the mini-bar. Same with the second room: a tap on the door to make sure no one was home, then the chisel into the lock and hey presto. Thing was, there wasn’t much in the rooms. A notice in the wardrobe told clients to lock all valuables in the hotel safe at reception. Still, he had a few nice things: camera, credit cards, bracelet and necklace. Sweat was running into his eyes, but he couldn’t afford to shed his disguise. He was starting to have crazy thoughts: take a good long soak; ring down for room service; find a room that hadn’t been taken and settle in for the duration. In the third room, he sat on the bed, feeling dizzy. There was a briefcase open beside him, just lots of paperwork. His stomach growled, and he remembered that his last meal had been a Mars Bar supper the previous day. He broke open a jar of salted peanuts, switched the TV on while he ate. As he put the empty jar down, he happened to glance at the contents of the briefcase. ‘Parliamentary briefing… Law and Justice Sub-Committee…’ He saw a list of names on the top sheet. One of them was coloured with a yellow marker.

Scully Aitchison.

The drunk man downstairs… That was where Joey knew him from! He leapt to his feet, trying to think. He could stay here and give the MSP a good hiding. He could… He picked up the room-service menu, called down and ordered smoked salmon, a steak, a bottle each of best red wine and malt whisky. Then heard himself saying those sweetest words: ‘Put it on my room, will you?’

Then he settled back to wait. Flipped through the paperwork again. An envelope slipped out. Card inside, and a letter inside the card.

Dear Scully, it began. I hope it isn’t all my fault, this idea of yours for a register of offenders …

*****

‘I haven’t a clue,’ said Rebus.

Nor did he. Dinner was over, the actor playing Scrooge was flat out on the mezzanine floor, and Rebus was as far away from solving the crime as ever. Thankfully, a bar had been opened up, and he spent most of his time perched on a high stool, pretending to read the background notes while taking sips of beer. Jean had hooked up with Miss Havisham, while Aitchison’s wife was slumped in one of the armchairs, drawing on a cigarette. The MSP himself was playing ringmaster, and had twice confronted Rebus, calling for him to reveal himself as the villain.

‘Innocent, m’lud,’ was all Rebus had said.

‘We think it’s Magwitch,’ Jean said, suddenly breathless by Rebus’s side, her bonnet at a jaunty angle. ‘He and Scrooge knew one another in prison.’

‘I didn’t know Scrooge served time,’ Rebus said.

‘That’s because you’re not asking questions.’

‘I don’t need to; I’ve got you to tell me. That’s what makes a good detective.’

He watched her march away. Four of the diners had encircled the poor man playing Magwitch. Rebus had harboured suspicions, too… but now he was thinking of jail time, and how it affected those serving it. It gave them a certain look, a look they brought back into the world on their release. The same look he’d seen in Santa’s eyes.

And here was Santa now, coming back down the stairs, his sack slung over one shoulder. Crossing the mezzanine floor as if seeking someone out. Then finding them: Scully Aitchison. Rebus rose from his stool and wandered over.

‘Have you been good this year?’ Santa was asking Aitchison.

‘No worse than anyone else,’ the MSP smirked.

‘Sure about that?’ Santa’s eyes narrowed.

‘I wouldn’t lie to Father Christmas.’

‘What about this plan of yours, the offender register?’

Aitchison blinked a couple of times.

‘What about it?’ Santa held a piece of paper aloft, his voice rising. ‘Your own nephew’s serving time for fraud. Managed to keep that quiet, haven’t you?’

Aitchison stared at the letter. ‘Where in hell…? How…?’

The journalist stepped forward. ‘Mind if I take a look?’

Santa handed over the letter, then pulled off his hat and beard. Started heading for the stairs down. Rebus blocked his way.

‘Time to hand out the presents,’ he said quietly. Joey looked at him and understood immediately, slid the sack from his shoulder. Rebus took it. ‘Now on you go.’

‘You’re not arresting me?’

‘Who’d feed Dancer and Prancer?’ Rebus asked.

His stomach full of steak and wine, a bottle of malt in the capacious pocket of his costume, Joey smiled his way back towards the outside world.

0 notes

michellelewis7162 · 5 years ago

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Just How to Locate Little Pet Dogs as well as Puppies For Adoption

Over the final handful of years, there has actually been actually very a shift in the possession of dogs. It utilized to be actually that family members will purchase or even use the major, manly dogs on the market place. Effectively, as the world has actually altered, so possesses the desire for little, dainty, and also tiny pet dogs. Nowadays, the little pet dogs are at the leading of the food web when it concerns new investments and also adoptions.

While there are a lot of outlets on the market marketing all type of canines at presents, locating tiny pet dogs puppies for adoption is actually coming to be simply a bit much easier. As the tiny dogs population develops, so perform the volume of lap dogs puppy dogs liters out their up for fostering.

A considerable amount of opportunities you can merely head to the categorized segment of your paper as well as discover "free of charge" puppy dogs to a good house.

Although this might certainly not look like a kind of adopting, it very most surely is. You are taking on the family pet coming from the previous loved ones and also in some conditions; carry out not be actually shocked if the household in fact inquires for a fostering expense! It is truly not that unusual and it deals with all the expenses they sustained along with the brand-new young puppies after childbirth. Neutering, flea and also tick therapy, rabies inoculations, soul earthworm medicine, which is simply a few. https://www.yuppypetboutique.com/

Various other extra popular dog adopting companies are actually usually in the type of household pet rescues, adopting teams, and creature sanctuaries. You can discover these in your area by obtaining out your yellow page and also simply providing them a phone call to find what young puppies they presently possess. I like to make use of the net, as well as some of the greatest traits concerning the net is actually these groups have managed to collaborate all together to bring us one rationalized place to see hundreds of household pets up for selection at once.

Where to Find Dogs and also Puppies for Adoption

Merely assume if you are actually new wedded and you desire to shock your cute as well as cute partner with an attractive new puppy what will be actually the reaction of your wife? I make certain she is going to yell with pleasure due to the fact that not a singular individual in this planet are going to dislike such an innocent as well as cute puppy. However if you are actually ignorant that where you may get such a charming puppy dog after that below are actually some valuable recommendations for you.

1. Investigation in your community

It is really better to look a pet canine right into your community at very first. It may be feasible that your adjacent next-door neighbor is intending to purchase his pet. After that why do not you be actually the purchaser of that dog if it is of your choice? If your next-door neighbor is actually willing to offer his puppy dog to you after that absolutely nothing could be better for you than this due to the fact that the puppy has advanced facing your eyes. Thus, there are actually quite much less chances of its own disease.

2. Pet dog Shops

The following step is actually to discover a dog or puppy from the dog outlets. This is an easy means to discover a dog because you are going to find a lot of dogs in the outlet so the selections are going to be actually terrific. Yet the most crucial factor hereof is that, if you are intending to buy a puppy from the shop then take it to the medical professional and possess a full check-up of the pup just before buying it. Constantly remember that after taking the pet right into your house, it will definitely become your accountability.

3. Kind Rescue Organization

There is actually a Breed Rescue Organization where you can additionally get a canine or a young puppy. This is actually place of fantastic variety of dog dogs. Thus, you can quickly locate your favored pet or a young puppy.

4. Web

One more resource to get a dog is net. I have to claim this is the most affordable and easiest means of taking on a dog considering that you possess no need to head to any sort of outlet searching for a pet dog. Simply search for a dog and also you will definitely have the capacity to discover your love.

Where to Find Puppies for Adoption?

If you desire to surprise your other half on her birthday celebration along with a little bit of adorable pooch but if you don't understand where to get these wonderful creatures then here are some exciting ideas for you.

Have some Investigations in your Neighborhood

If you have no idea about the type of a dog at that point it is actually much better to check out concerning it in your community. If any one in your next-door neighbors possesses an appreciated add-on of young puppies then you can nicely offer your adoption service to your next-door neighbors considering that nobody ever ases if to always keep a ton of pups in his residence.

Pet Shops

A large number of folks like to acquire puppy dogs coming from their local pet dog markets. A pet dog store will definitely have nearly every kind of puppy dog species for that reason; it is going to be actually simpler for you to select a pet dog of your option with the support of a surrounding family pet store.

Type Rescue Organization

I f you are entirely beginner in pet training at that point it is actually far better to take the help of a Breed Rescue Organizations. Breed Rescue Organizations are special groups that are actually specialized in teaching a puppy of a particular breed. They organizations can easily be actually a fantastic aid for those who don't have at any time for dog's training.

Creature Shelter or Pet Rescue Groups

Creature shelters or pet dog rescue groups are actually surely practical for those that are not conscious concerning a particular breed. Nonetheless, it is actually really difficult to find a pet of a certain dimension and grow older as most of the pet dog rescue groups contains grown-up pets.

Web

Web is likewise a fine location to discover a pet dog of your option. Loads of dog breeders submit their advertising campaign on internet to make sure that you may quickly opt for the canine of your dream.

Puppies for Adoption - Adorable Puppies Need Home

A lot of our company will just adore to adopt an attractive new puppy at one point or various other, isn't it? And also much to our delight, our experts can easily find lots of puppies for adoption pathways waiting to welcome our company and also to provide us with all information that might matter to us a whole lot. Yet you still in necessity to become extra mindful in opting for any one of these methods as you can go extremely inappropriate with all of them. Ensure you have actually devoted adequate time exploring their references just before fixating them. Yet when you have actually made the best selection, you at that point need to increase these adorable pups meticulously and this is undoubtedly not a cat-walk for the majority of our company!

Mature pets and puppy dogs, especially, are wonderful friends any person can easily have. They are actually potentially the only living critters that will certainly stand up by you excessive as well as slim. If they can assist you in this technique as well as in a whole lot many various other methods, why will you worry about thinking of taking on one? The selection making method involved listed below must somewhat be a simple one. You require to adopt some of them at the very least promptly. Discover an appropriate area for puppies for adoption and afterwards accomplish the procedures that are actually needed in acquiring them on your own as well as after that view what good variation they produce to your lifestyle. Much more thus, they are actually remarkable tiny critters that are thus excellent looking that you might find it hard to take your eyes off all of them.

There are probably many questions you may wish to ask on your own just before using a new puppy. Do I have a small yet a comfortable little bit of place for my pup to remain? Can I convert this spot to a bigger one to support the adorable puppy dog once it expands? Do I know what its food routines are and also how they require to become kept daily? As well as so on. If you are capable to answer these concerns and a whole lot more, you are actually possibly ready for embracing a puppy. In such an instance, browse through puppies for adoption spot as well as make your option. You may at that point go forward and implement the solutions you had given earlier. Mind you, embracing a lovely young puppy is the very best method to tackle doing your little bit in defending these animals from unsafe killers.

The wellness of the new puppy you are actually visiting adopt should perform best of your worry. Be sure that you take your used puppy dog to a physician as well as check the wellness condition of it. Adhere to all the steps that are needed to maintain all of them in healthy and balanced condition. This is actually really vital while you are opting for puppies for adoption. You will definitely never ever manage except kinds of puppies while you are actually hectic browsing for them. Dalmatians, Danes, Labradors, golden retrievers, and also English Collies are few species you may immediately think about while adopting all of them. Yet whatever breed you are actually choosing for, make certain that you possess future plannings in position presently. It is a well-known fact that these puppies grow quick as well as therefore you need to have to prepare for their shelter, food and also various other points accordingly.

Labrador Retriever Puppies for Adoption

Labrador Retriever puppies for adoption are often pure-blooded, and also every little as remarkable, nurturing, as well as energised as a new puppy you will acquire. Why visit a household pet establishment or even dog breeder when you can discover Labrador Retriever puppies for adoption? Typically totally free!

Places including "Labrador Retriever Rescue and also Adoption" possess complete as well as mixed-breed Labrador Retriever puppy dogs. When our company went seeming on the web briefly, our company discovered Labrador Retriever puppies for adoption that were actually 9 full weeks outdated and 12 weeks old.

In a "Yahoo Pets" categorized advertisement, our company observed 10 wonderful little bit of Labrador Retriever puppies for adoption in Colorado. The Hoobly identified internet site possessed 3 Labrador Retriever puppies for adoption in Idaho.

Labrador Retriever puppies for adoption are also accessible at Humane Society as well as individual pet homes.

That Would Adopt Labrador Retriever Puppies

You may embrace Labrador Retriever new puppies if:

1. your budget carries out certainly not enable an expenditure of $400 to $1500 for a pup

2. you pity on undesirable puppies

Lots of people have large, looking after hearts. They recognize the Labrador Retriever pups at the breeder, along with their expensive papers, will find properties. Lifestyle is actually not as specific for rescue new puppies. They have actually been lost hope for adoption considering that the proprietors will not or can certainly not care for additional pet dogs.

Disadvantages of Labrador Retriever Puppies for Adoption

Labrador Retriever puppy dogs that have been lost hope for fostering may have hidden troubles. You are going to not understand about the nature of the parents. Neither will definitely you understand whether either parent has illness that will be inherited through the puppies. If you locate Labrador Retriever pups in a pet sanctuary, opportunities are good that the personnel recognizes little regarding them.

Labrador Retriever pups in a shelter usually are without connecting chances. Folks come and also folks go, yet no one has time to teach the young puppy how to quadrate individual companions.

You take the chance of obtaining a puppy dog that has actually know to howl loudly for attention - in a space of noisally woofing pet dogs. Labrador Retriever young puppies coming from sanctuaries are going to take greater than a few days of modification to un-learn some peccadillos.

A number of these drawbacks faint if you acquire Labrador Retriever new puppies by means of a rescue network. A lot of systems position their adoptive new puppies in foster properties. This prevents most of the animal shelter concerns.

Some saving systems are likewise capable to locate out additional about the young puppies' history. The foster "moms and dads" can assess the new puppies' temperaments and also health and wellness. They may start initial training period and also interact the puppies. They can be sure the young puppies get an excellent start in lifestyle while they await their long-term houses.

Advantages of Labrador Retriever Puppies for Adoption

The perks of receiving Labrador Retriever young puppies that are actually readily available for adopting might over-shadow the negative aspects for you - specifically if you can get the new puppies by means of a rescue system.

1. You are providing a good property to Labrador Retriever young puppies that may typically certainly not possess one.

2. You are getting nurturing, loyal buddies, that are going to do just about anything to satisfy you, just as long as you show them what that is.

3. You are paying for merely a small adopting cost (or obtaining all of them totally free). Yet your Labrador Retriever pups will be actually every bit as nurturing as those costing manies bucks.

Valuable Tip

You can easily discover Labrador Retriever puppies for adoption on the net. Just kind the phrase "Labrador Retriever saving" into your hunt engine. Locally, watch newspaper identified ads or even visit your animal shelter.

What About Frenchie Puppies For Adoption?

Just in case you do certainly not recognize you can choose puppies for adoption online. The body is really complex, however it is actually also the most basic technique in scenario you are actually seeking frenchie pups to buy online.

Many individuals counting movie celebrities and also stars have French bulldogs and also they are keeping all of them as household pets. They are actually much smaller than the regular type of bulldog, but every total amount are more silent, lovable and also very lively.

Prior to accepting your French bulldog pup in your home you certainly need to become prepared for this particular activity. Most of us understand how crucial it is to become relaxed as well as to believe comfortable in your house. Your frenchie young puppy have to think the very same point in his brand-new house.

The puppies has plenty of power and they are really compelling in accomplishing their task. A frenchie pup will certainly create you to walk for kilometers; they will create you play along with them for hrs due to the fact that they will certainly not obtain tired any type of faster. Start teaching your French bulldog very soon as you have him. Sooner is better since he will listen closely as well as learn quicker when it is actually really young.

Online internet site you can easily discover essential info regarding a great deal of traits connected as exactly how you can feed all of them correctly, exactly how you may embrace one, what they as if or do not like, health and wellness concerns, etc

. It could be very helpful to check the Testimonials as well as Questions parts on the internet site. This means you have severe opportunities to figure out more about what you are trying to find.

You will definitely require to make them believe and understand that they are actually extremely notable in your lifestyle. In addition to their direction sessions you additionally need to educate your youngsters too. Instruct your youngsters on how to act when they are actually interacting along with French bulldog pups. This is actually given that youngsters are actually generally mean and also they participate in extreme video games along with their puppy dogs, games that may harm them long times. Points which kids generally use to carry out resemble taking the tail of the little bit of frenchie, play significantly with their ears, they boot them as well as they also do several various other distressing factors which issue the little frenchie.

When you are actually qualifying your French bulldog young puppies see to it that your kid or youngsters to monitor any sort of teaching session. This method, your child will certainly know the French bulldog actions to the directions. Compensate your little bit of close friend after each instruction session so you can improve up the peace of mind degree of your pet.

They could be really clever and also can easily they can know incredibly conveniently. They could be really competent watchdogs if they are actually experienced properly. You are going to locate that they are actually rather quiet as well as do not howl excessively. They howl merely when they possess one thing to tell you which includes possessing a criminal in your residence. These pet dogs also possess a wonderful mood as well as are quite cute. It is actually additionally somehow unusual that they like to go after mice and infections so you will certainly not require to make use of a loved ones pussy-cat therefore. Finally, French bulldogs are actually fantastic attendant dogs. They are really faithful, charming and take pleasure in a great deal of exercise.

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johndburns · 7 years ago

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Here’s the blog version of my 2018 winter Newsletter

Journey to Glendubh Bothy Download the first 2 Chapters of my Best Selling book The Last Hillwalker Climb Ben Wyvis a mountain in the Scottish Highlands Check out Keith Foskett’s Thru Hiking Classic The Journey in Between Gear review Thermarest’s best lightweight sleeping mat

Plus check out a great new magazine, Wild Camping

Glendubh Bothy

So, you’d like to visit a wild Highland bothy but don’t know which one to start with. Over the next few months I’m going to write about the bothies I love and give you some tips on which bothies might suit you and some hints on how to get there and what you should take.

I’m starting out with a remote but easy to get to bothy, Glendubh (Pronounced Glendoo). This bothy is in a fantastic setting right on the west coast of Scotland near the village of Kylesku. The scenery is magnificent as it sits nestling on the side of a spectacular sea loch. It’s not unusual to see otters fishing in the loch and there are many sea birds to watch and there’s even a sporting chance you’ll see a Golden Eagle.

This is one of my favourite bothies, it has a great atmosphere and, even though it is relatively accessible, it has that wonderful remote and other worldly feel that I really enjoy. It has four rooms, so there is plenty of space, and most important of all, a great fire. Take about 10kgs of good house coal and you are sure of a cosy night. Kylesku is about three hours drive from the Highland capital of Inverness. Shops are scarce in this remote area so it’s a good idea to buy your provisions in Inverness or in the fishing village of Ullapool on the way. Ullapool makes a good lunch stop or there is a good hotel at Kylesku who serve great food.

The walk in to Glendubh is pretty easy but remember to allow plenty of time as you’ll be carrying a heavy pack and will probably want to stop along the way to take photos and look at the sights. It’s about a three mile walk to the bothy, the track is very good and follows the northern shore of the sea loch. Only basic navigational skills are required and, if you are reasonably fit, this shouldn’t be a challenging walk. Do remember that the weather here often changes very quickly so you need to be properly equipped with water proofs and warm outdoor clothing.

In common with all bothies Glendubh is a basic open shelter. There is no electricity, or running water and you’ll be sleeping on the floor. Bothies are special places and it is a great privilege to visit them, please respect them and the people you meet. Always follow the Bothy Code

This bothy is maintained by the Mountain Bothies Association, who are volunteers. If you enjoy a night at a bothy why not show your appreciation for their work and help them maintain more of these fantastic places by making a small donation.

The Last Hillwalker

My book is selling incredibly well and I’ve had some amazing feedback. Now you can download the first 2 chapters free. Download Chapters

Ben Wyvis

If you want to start hillwalking in the Scottish Highlands but are not sure where to start Ben Wyvis (Pronounced Wivis) is a good introduction to the Scottish hills. This mountain is less than an hour’s drive north from the Highland capital of Inverness. There is a good car park, situated on the A835 Ullapool road, and the path is well marked. You come down the hill the same way you go up so, if you are not that confident of your navigation, it is a good hill to choose. Here are some pictures from my recent ascent

Find out more here Ben Wyvis Walk Highlands

The Journey in Between

Keith Foskett is an outdoor writer I really admire and someone who as taken the art of self-publishing the accounts of his incredible journeys to a new level.

Keith Foskett

Thousands attempt to hike El Camino in its entirety each year: some succeed, many fail. Keith Foskett found himself at a crossroads, sensing his life was about to change. But, until a chance meeting with a stranger in a Greek bar, he didn’t know which path to take. A week later, he found himself at the start of El Camino, and began a journey that would change him. Along the way he made friends with fellow pilgrims from all over the world, all travelling for their own different reasons. From the pain of blisters and extremes of temperature to encountering kleptomaniacs, fake faith healers and being threatened with arrest in Spain for ‘not sleeping’, his hike was far from normal. This is the story of one man’s walk, but it speaks to all who see life itself as a journey and are alive to the revelations that an escape to nature can bring. Written with insight, observation and a healthy dose of humour. As this book shows, it is rarely the start and the finish that count, but the journey in between. Read the reviews “A thoroughly entertaining modern take on a well worn Spanish Trail.” Download the first 2 chapters of Keith’s book here.

Gear Review

Thermarest-NeoAir-Xtherm

For the best part of 40 years I spent every night in the outdoors with my faithful Karrimat the old traditional foam mat. I’d taken it up Mount Kenya, to the Alps and the Canadian Rockies as well as many less glamorous trips to bothies the length and breadth of Scotland. I’ve had my mat for over 30 years and regard it as an old and faithful friend. It had seemed such luxury when I bought it and no longer had to sleep on the cold, hard ground. I’d looked at inflatable mats but had always been put off by their price. One night, in a remote Northern bothy, I met a couple of keen bothy patrons who told me how far superior their inflatable mattresses were.

Still unconvinced, and reluctant to part with the huge amount of cash required, I spoke to my friend, outdoor expert and author Chris Townsend. Chris was unequivocal, ‘Go and get yourself a Thermarest-NeoAir-Xtherm, you can sleep on snow with one of those.’

I shopped around but the cheapest I could get that mat was £135, so I braced myself and ordered one. I’ve had the mat now for almost two years and I can honestly say that the thought of having to go back to my old foam mat now fills me with dread. At fist I found sleeping on the wobbly inflatable mat disconcerting and I feel off it quite a bit in the first few nights. After a couple of nights, I mastered the art of sleeping on the cushion of air and it’s now second nature, even when I am asleep.

The Thermarest is far more comfortable than the old foam mat I used to use. I like to sleep on my side, something that was very uncomfortable on the karrimat, the new mat lets me do that and I get a much better night’s sleep, an important factor on multi-day trips. Another great advantage of the Thermarest is that it packs away in to a 1 litre stuff sack which means I can easily stow it inside my rucksack. This is a major advantage as it means I can now put a rain cover over my sack. In the past the bulky Karrimat had to be strapped to the outside of the rucksack which meant I couldn’t fit a rain cover. I could never find a satisfactory way of strapping the rolled up mat to the outside and it always annoyed me by snagging on tree branches every time I walked through a forest track.

There is always a trade off between weight and warmth with any insulating equipment from sleeping bags to jackets. There are much warmer mats available the Thermarest-NeoAir-Xtherm but they are a lot heavier and I think that the balance between comfort and weight is about right with this mat. Overall I give it 5 stars and I have retired my poor old Karrimat for a well-earned rest.

For more information on selecting your inflatable sleeping mat click here

More information on the different types of mat available HERE

If you would like to receive my newsletters direct to your email click here to subscribe to my mailing list.

Coming on the 16th of march 2018, my sequel to The Last Hillwalker

Finally, don’t miss this new magazine Wild Camping it’s free to download and packed with great features.

2018 Winter News Letter Here’s the blog version of my 2018 winter Newsletter Journey to Glendubh Bothy Download the first 2 Chapters of my Best Selling book The Last Hillwalker…

#ben wyvis #book #bothy #bothy tales #burns #environment #foskett #gear #humour #john d burns&039;#last hillwalker #scotland #thermarest #travel #wild camping

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theokbrowne · 7 years ago

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12 Real Estate Winter Marketing Ideas To Slay The Holiday Season (For EVERY Agent!)

There are less than 100 days left in the year and it’s time to plan your winning real estate winter marketing activities!

Halloween is over.

The World Series has ended.

And Starbucks has a brand new cup design for you to behold.

Yep.

With the 1st of November came the start of the 2017 holiday season.

As tempting as it can be, there’s no sense in putting it off.

It’s crucial that agents market to past clients and prospects over the slower real estate season and make it a top priority to capture the best leads.

Of course, just because your schedule as started to open up, doesn’t mean your community is experiencing the same lull.

It’s all too likely that your past clients and future leads are preparing for their own holiday events.

So, where does that leave you and yours?

In order to ring in a stress-free new year and enjoy the upcoming winter holidays, you’ve got to get into the holiday spirit and join your community in ushering in the merry season.

And we’re here to give you everything you need to slay your real estate winter marketing efforts!

Here are 12 ideas to prepare for your best season yet –

3 Festive Blog Post Ideas

#1) 10 Ways To Beat The Freeze In (Your Area)

Depending on where you living, this winter could be a doozy. Tackle the cold by giving helpful tips on how to combat the chill and tell buyers and sellers exactly how the frigid temps could affect local homes. You can include suggestions on how to prepare pipes, clean out gutters, and a list of resources your community can consult when in a grinchy pinch.

Live somewhere warm? Luck you!

Read on for more real estate winter marketing blog ideas.

#2) DIY Holiday Decorating Guide

Snow or shine, most folks loving decorating for the holidays! And it’s easy to position this type of post for your community. Whether you’ve got palm trees or pines, your area will still be getting in on the cheer!

Throw in some extra safety instructions on how to hang lights without damaging the exterior or interior of a home. For DIY tricks, think back to your favorite childhood decorating traditions and share one or two family favorites with your audience. You can encourage them to do the same!

Want to add lead capture? Create an info form for leads to fill out so they can download the guide.

This is super easy to do with LeadSites!

Here’s an in-depth walkthrough on how to setup blog popups with Smart Popups 2.0:

youtube

Want To Try Out LeadSites For Yourself?

CLICK HERE For A Free Demo And Exclusive Bonus!

#3) A Year In Review

It’s always nice to reflect on our personal and business success over the past year, but you’ve got to put a slightly different spin on it to make this blog worthy.

Real Estate Winter Social Marketing Campaigns

#4) Host a Holiday Contest

Even if you haven’t had much success with contests or giveaways in the past, the giving season is the perfect time to try again.

Have your followers share a photo of their seasonal decorations and give a special prize to the the person whose photo gets the most likes.

You can test this out over Thanksgiving and do another round for Christmas or New Year’s.

For Thanksgiving – go beyond decor and encourage your network to post a photo of a special recipe or their Thanksgiving dinner spread.

When Christmas rolls around, you can ask folks to share a light display, the final results of a DIY family decor project, or their gorgeous tree.

For the prize…

There are a lot of different directions to take this. You can pick up some Starbucks or Amazon gift cards, or partner with a neighborhood family business to encourage people to shop local. A major perk of co-promoting your giveaways with a local business is that you’ll increase your reach.

For a giveaway, we recommend using Facebook. You can post on your personal account, business page and even share the post in community groups.

#5) Get On Instagram

If you haven’t already, create an Instagram account.

It’s a great way to connect with new people and add a very necessary visual storytelling component to your real estate winter marketing strategy.

As you collect photos throughout the season, add them to your Instagram feed.

You can include both community and property features.

A tree lighting ceremony, twinkling neighborhoods, a shared hot chocolate on a snowy day…etc., these are all great ways to stay top of mind, and heart, in your area.

Create These Two Pinterest Boards

#6) Holidays + Seasons In (Your Area)

If you’re finding little payoff in creating unique Pinterest boards for every holiday, season, and occasion, just make one.

You can then update it year-round. Include all four seasons and the major holidays within those months.

To get this board going, start with November – January and include Thanksgiving Inspiration, Christmas, and New Year’s with lots of winter inspiration sprinkled between the holiday goodness.

This is a great way to get your board organized because you really only have to focus on one season and one or two holidays per month.

Next, take on February – April and include Valentine’s Day, St. Patrick’s Day, and Easter. Your board’s aesthetic will quickly change from a wintry wonderland to a fresh Spring. You can continue to share this board on other social platforms so your audience can follow along for all seasons.

#7) Join or Start A Holiday Decor Group Board

Group boards are exploding on Pinterest. With group boards, you’ll not only be sharing the “pinning” load with other Pinterest users, but you’ll be expanding your network with every new member that’s added.

Encourage pinners to join you and share new decorating tricks they’re going to try as well as to pin recipes they’re making. You can pin your related blogs to this board and this will encourage pinners to visit your website.

Spread Joy In Your Community

#8) Give Back

Start thinking about ways you can be in service during the cold months. Host a canned food drive, make your office a drop-off point for Toys For Tots, or take coat donation and give them to a local shelter or organization.

You can bake a batch of cookies and keep some cocoa or eggnog on hand to get conversations going with your area when they come to leave their contributions.

#9) Gingerbread All The Way

Reach out to a community center and setup a gingerbread decorating party. If you’re enjoying hosting contests, you can even give out some fun prizes to those who decorate the best cookies or houses.

This is also another nice opportunity to build community relationships. See if you can partner with a bakery or even local grocery store to sponsor supplies or give some decorating tips for the party.

Plus, building houses together is the perfect segway for you to deliver some information to buyers and sellers who attend!

#10) Send A Holiday Card And Ask For This In Return

Give Thanks for your clients on Thanksgiving or with them Happy Holidays by mailing them a card or e-card. Of course, you’re just showing your appreciation, but it doesn’t hurt to ask them to leave you a quick review.

It doesn’t have to be a long testimonial, though that would be great, you can just link them to your Facebook Page, Yelp Profile, or anywhere your agent profile exists online and ask them to leave a quick remark.

youtube

Looking Ahead

Whenever you find yourself with some downtime, check these quick tasks off your list:

#11) Update CTAs

Majority of all online leads are going to come from your real estate website. So make sure you lead capture tools are ready to work.

Take a look at the various opt-in forms floating around your site, including landing pages, and make sure they’ve all got a strong Call To Action button.

With LeadSites, it’s incredibly easy to update any form for your real estate winter marketing campaigns and then swap them out again in 2018.

You can also track all your opt-ins in the backend of your LeadSite dashboard to see what pages are performing well and which could use a boost in conversion potential.

#12) 2018

You should also set aside some time to start planning for a great New Year.

Update your database, clean up any outdated information, and do the same with your social media profiles.

I mean, when was the last time you updated your profile or cover photo?

Or updated your bio?

The time and effort you put in now will have a huge impact next year, and you owe it to yourself, your clients and future leads to be prepped and ready for the best New Year yet.

These simply, yet highly effective real estate winter marketing ideas are perfect for any agent to up their lead gen game and define themselves as the leading community expert.

Get started today!

Want To Try Out LeadSites For Yourself?

CLICK HERE For A Free Demo And Exclusive Bonus!

Here are a few more resources to inspire your real estate winter marketing activities:

Get More Referrals With This FREE Thanksgiving Downloadable Flyer

How To Win Leads The Week Before Christmas With Kyle Hiscock

Free Christmas Videos To Market Yourself This Holiday Season

Use This Holiday Giveaway To Boost Leads (Free, Custom Landing Page + Email Inside)!

Primed For The Holidays – Boost Your Real Estate Business With Cheap Greeting Cards From Amazon

The post 12 Real Estate Winter Marketing Ideas To Slay The Holiday Season (For EVERY Agent!) appeared first on Easy Agent Pro.

from theokbrowne digest https://www.easyagentpro.com/blog/12-real-estate-winter-marketing-ideas/

#theokbrowne digest

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formerlyrunephoenix6769 · 6 years ago

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Thought I’d dust this off. Vamp Verse. written back in 2014,

CHARACTER : SARAH DEVERUEX.

VAMPVERSE

Basque region of FRANCE. Early 1700's.

Ask anyone in the bustling hub of the trading town nestled in the Harque region and they would tell you that Shelby was a good individual. She taught the Sunday school, paying extra attention to those that struggled. She was courteous and polite, regardless of anyone's station. She and her husband would always stock the apples for the apple bobbing stall at the Harvest dance and they would always be willing overlook a payment on groceries if a family fell on hard times.

All in all, she was a kind natured soul. And she was, but as with all things, there are always two sides to a tale.

Now, she kept her beliefs and practices under firm wraps. She busied herself with the Church and the goings on of the locals to throw off suspicion. She even went so far as to dress down and not draw attention to her striking features. She would pull her long, silky dark brown hair into a braid and wear clothes that allowed very little skin to show.

Nobody pointed a finger and made accusations of witchcraft as fast as a jealous, attention starved wife.

She would laugh internally at the Father on the pulpit at Mass, mouth foaming with fanaticism as he ranted and raved about the goings on of the Witches.

Animals got sick, just the same as people.

Her familiar.

Her majestic white dove, Ashel.

It was a pile of codswallop.

Her husband had been intercepted by one of her fellow Mystics and encouraged to buy the pair, there by delivering her new familiar straight to her door.

If her husband had cared to look he would have seen that the birds weren't even the same breed. Her dove was almost twice the size of the other.

However her dove Ashel did do her job to perfection, flying fair and wide over the countryside delivering her words to her scattered sisters and returning with the important news.

One such scroll had done just that.

"Hi Mrs D" a small boy called out as he led his bare foot little sister down the road.

"Bonjour Pascal,." She replied with a grin and a wave. " I have something for Celine and you.”

She leaned over the counter and retrieved the parchment, with its raised dots and divets, grooves and swirls and two apples.

“For you , both.”

“You bite it first!”

Shelby bit deeply. Her nose crinkled, her eyes went wide. She couldn’t breath. Sweeping his sister behind him, Pascal took a few steps back.

Shelby coughed, her eyes watered.

A small hand reached out for the fabric or her dress..

“Miss,-”

Shelby chewed and swallowed,

“Was expecting it to be sweeter!”

She offered it back to Pascal, who eagerly bit into it, tasting it before offering the rest to his sister.

Kneeling down, she regarded the girl,

“Celine, I have a little something,.. Just for you ..And your..”

Reaching out, little fingertips touched parchment.

“What is it?”

“Feel it..”

Unrolling it, little finger tips explored the surface. Her brows crinkled before breaking into a smile,

“Merci, Ms Deveruex.”

Taking the apple out of her brother’s unexpected grasp she giggled, before taking a bite and tossing it back at him.

Pascal fumbled,

“what does it say?? Show me.. “

“Noo, why should I?”

“Cause I wanna see!”

“Duuh, that’s the whole point, dum dum. It’s not meant to be *seen*, it’s meant to be *felt*” Celine good naturedly teased

Shelby called out,

“Make sure you know all the Saints by morning."

He returned it with a gapped toothed smile and an enthusiastic wave of his own hand.

"I will. ..See you tomorrow."

Celine laughed,

“But I wont!”

Shelby watched with a warm smile as the two began playing catch up, the footbeats keeping time with each other.

Checking the coast was clear, Shelby leant back against the warm brickwork, slowly teasing open the minuscule scroll.

She was fluent in a her own languages, merchant sign, and feter speak.

The news upon the parchment was distressing indeed.

Everybody in the region knew of the story of the place that was hidden with in the streets of the neighbouring trading town.

For nearly thirty years the residence had remained empty. Bold teenage boys did not dare each other to prove their manliness and even vagabonds dare not seek shelter with in its walls.

Shelby herself would have been but a teenager when word of the vile atrocity had been whispered and murmured by merchants and tradesmen in the alehouses of her village.

Small papers had been written and pictures drawn. Townsfolk and farmers alike crowding round those that could read, listening in hushed silence,

In the early morning an apprentice ostler from one of the inns had come running to retrieve the Doctor and had stumbled upon an horrific scene.

The room was in disarray, furniture splintered, tables overturned. Blood lined the walls and even dripped from the ceiling. Amongst the chaos lay the bodies of the family, drenched in their own blood.

The rumor mill had gone into overdrive, washer women and midwives gossiping amongst themselves.

Some speculated a robbery gone wrong. Passing bandits or mercenaries thinking a Doctor must have riches.

Others, a deranged patient, wild and feral with madness.

Some held the travelling gypsies responsible.

Disturbingly, some claimed that Doctor himself had killed his family consumed with grief due to the tragic loss of and by all accounts the apple of his eye, his wilful, eldest Daughter.

The culprit was never found or brought to justice. So many new faces passed through the hub of the large trading town on a daily basis the sheriff had no idea where to begin his investigation. Instead the crime had slipped into obscurity, whispered as a grimm fairytale to frighten wilful children.

"If you don't go to sleep, the Doctor with come and gobble you up!"

Somebody had painstakingly tended to their graves over the long years and the locals sighed that at least the Lopez clan had reunited in the afterlife

But the tiny scrap of paper in the palm of Shelby's hand said otherwise.