#Dottie Ave

[bosguy]

elf The Dragsical: Tickets on sale

Looking for something to do with friends? Dottie Ave stars in elf The Dragsical which will play at Club Cafe on Friday, 12/15. Tickets are now on sale.

Tickets are now on sale to see Lurenzone Theatrics’ production of, Elf: The Dragsical! Follow Buddy the Elf (played by Dottie Ave) as she discovers she’s not actually an elf, but a drag queen! Papa Elf sends Buddy on an adventure to Club Café to find their drag mother and teach her the spirit of the holidays! For more information or to purchase tickets click: elf the Dragsical is Friday,…

[iuriinacio]

Os Personagens Deletados/Alterados do Filme Os Sem-Floresta (Over The Hedge)

Depois de falar um pouco dos personagens do filme, agora é a vez dos personagens que foram deletados durante a produção do filme, vou começar primeiro com os que foram deletados mas tem seus nomes revelados oficialmente, então vamos começar.

Rufus

Para começar vamos falar do personagem Rufus que é uma Gaia Azul, ele estaria presente no filme original, mas possivelmente devido a falta de atores para dar a voz ao personagem ou não conseguiram animá-lo a tempo para o 3d, ele foi deletado da produção final do filme, ficando apenas no jogo baseado no filme, seu objetivo era guiar e ajudar os animais da floresta a procurar comida, existe apenas 3 artes conceituais coloridas de Rufus, uma delas é essa aí dele pegando um macarrão instantâneo chinês.

Norbert

Norbert seria a segunda ave da família Hedge, ele era uma coruja norte-americana que também estaria presente no filme mas foi deletado devido ao abandono do ator falecido Gene Wilder no projeto e não terem conseguido um substituto para dar a voz ao personagem, seus objetivos na história do filme ainda são desconhecidos.

Dotty

Dotty era uma cachorra da raça poodle que seria a única cadela da família Hedge que teria um bom coração e ajudaria os outros animais, ela estaria presente no filme mas por razões desconhecidas foi deletada do filme restando apenas essa arte conceitual de como ela seria se ela tivesse entrado na produção final do filme, ela aparece em uma edição dos quadrinhos originais de Over The Hedge.

Waffles

Waffles era um cão também da raça poodle que iria aparecer no filme Os Sem-Floresta (Over The Hedge) mas foi alterado para Nugent, o motivo da alteração é desconhecido, a única informação sobre ele é que era mais agressivo a ponto de engolir o Verne na história do filme, ele também aparece em algumas edições dos quadrinhos originais de Over The Hedge.

Esses foram os personagem que foram deletados/alterados mas tem seus nomes revelados, agora vamos para os personagens sem nomes revelados oficialmente.

O Furão

O furão era um personagem que iria aparecer no filme Os Sem-Floresta (Over The Hedge) ele seria um membro da familia Hedge, mas por razões desconhecidas foi deletado da produção final do filme, aparecendo apenas no jogo baseado no filme como um dos inimigos para você atacar, infelizmente não tem muitas informações sobre esse personagem.

A Toupeira

Assim como o furão, a toupeira iria também aparecer no filme original, mas também por razões desconhecidas foi deletado da produção final do filme, aparecendo apenas no jogo baseado no filme como também um dos inimigos para você atacar no jogo, no jogo seu nome é Milton, mas porém, devido a falta de informações, não se sabe se ele iria se chamar Milton no filme original. Diferente do furão, não se sabe se a toupeira iria ser um membro ou inimigo da família Hedge no filme original.

A Família de Coelhos

Esses dois coelhos que estão presentes nessa arte conceitual, possivelmente deveriam ser a primeira versão de Ozzie e Heather antes dos gambás serem escolhidos como personagem final na produção do filme, embora eles não tenham nomes revelados oficialmente, não se sabe se esses dois coelhos iriam ser pai/mãe e filho/filha ou um casal, mas pelo que vejo nessa arte conceitual seriam pai e filha, eles seriam membros da família Hedge, eles estariam presentes no filme, mas foram deletados e posteriormente alterado para o que conhecemos hoje que são pai e filha Gambá da Virgínia. No jogo baseado no filme tem coelhos para você atacá-los durante a gameplay, mas não são semelhantes aos coelhos dessa arte conceitual.

Hora dos Questionamentos:

Entre os personagens que estão nas artes conceituais e os que estão no filme qual você prefere?

Tirando o Rufus, Norbert e Dotty que eu realmente queria que tivesse entrado para o filme final, eu prefiro os personagens da personagens da produção final do filme, já que eles são mais a cara do filme, já esses das artes conceituais não pareciam muito se encaixar com o clímax do filme.

Porque você citou o jogo ao falar dos personagens?

Porque a maioria desses personagens citados, estão presentes no jogo baseado no filme, exerto Norbert, Dotty e Waffles que realmente foram descartados de fato.

Conclusão

O filme Os Sem-Floresta (Over The Hegde) é um raro caso em que metade das coisas que foram produzida entre 2002-2006 foram deletadas ou alteradas, isso é muito comum de se ver em desenvolvimento de jogos, agora em animação isso é muito raro acontecer. Apesar disso, o filme com os personagens da produção final ficou muito melhor, tirando Rufus, Norbert e Dotty que esses três mereciam mesmo ficar na produção final do filme, obrigado pela leitura.

[ac3may]

Amorousness: Prologue

· November 2016 ·

120 SECONDS.

The harsh October wind causes goosebumps up my legs as the floodlights drown the stadium in brightness. The buzz of the crowd is electric as extra time ticks down. Miller to Henderson, the ball shoots along the wing, across to Bird, she makes to shoot.

60 SECONDS.

Gone from her feet, the ball is back on the move. Red, white, and yellow blurs across the pitch as the players move towards me.

45 SECONDS.

On the right. Over to the left. Straight down the middle.

20 SECONDS.

The balls in the air; flying, flying. Over to the right; I'm leaping. Flying, flying.

15 SECONDS.

Ball hits glove. It's powered back to the pitch. The next chip is made.

6 SECONDS.

Ball and gloves reunite. This time a catch.

3 SECONDS... 2 SECONDS... 1 SECOND...

The whistle blows.

The white noise of the crowd is immediately gone. Cheers, screams, and shouts echo across the pitch. My teammates bombard me. We've done it! Tears spring to my eyes, and I drop to my knees. 

WE'VE DONE IT!

Sheffield United W.F.C. are the official 2016 Women's Super League 2 Champions!

All the emotions that flood my body as the whistle blows overwhelm me to the point my knees give out and tears begin streaming down my face. I feel pressure on my back as my teammates, my friends, begin my final dogpile of Sheffield United.

"WE DID IT! We did it! You did it! You absolute legend Brighty! What a save!" The shouts in my ears come from my football bestie, Avery Bird. With a breathy laugh, I bring myself back to reality. Continuing my laughter I spin onto my back, knocking the ball out of my hands, I tug Ave into my arms. "We just did that! What on earth? How? What?" My disbelief is expressed through my giggles as we squeal at each other before rolling apart.

Leaping to my feet, I go and hug all my teammates for the last time before we're herded in to collect our medals. After many hugs, handshakes, and trophy cheering we split off to celebrate with our families and friends off the pitch.

Tucking my gloves into the waistband of my shorts I'm tackled into my hardest hug of the night. Wrapping my arms up I breathe in the sweetness of my sister's perfume, the scent immediately easing my mind. "I am so, so proud of you Dottie! You're a star!"

Pulling away from each other I'm instantly brought into more arms. Mum pulls me into my biggest cuddle of the night and her sobs of pride encourage my glossy eyes to begin leaking again. "Oh, darling! I'm so proud of you baby, such an incredible save as well! You saved that game, well done hun!" With a kiss on my head, a tight bear grip joins the hug and I hear my dad's gruff voice, "amazing baby girl! Truly amazing! I'm so proud of you!"

The final family members to congratulate me are my big brother, Billie, and his fiancé, Beatrice. "You did good kid! Well done!" He grins while ruffling my hair, as Bea hands me a bouquet, all varying shades of red and white, a meaningful Sheffield tribute that earns her a one-armed hug.

Pulling back I send a punch to my older brother's arm before wiping my sleeve across my face to clear the tear tracks. "I cannot believe that was it," I breathe, "my final United game and I end with the ball in hand? How often does that happen to anyone!" My breathy disbelief quickly turns to overenthusiastic chatter.

"It was incredible Dots! The way you bounced back after the first dive as well! Incredible pace." Dad compliments. Millie and Billie began discussing the details of the game tossing compliments everywhere but before I can focus on the words they were saying I hear the call of my name.

"Brighty! Brighty!" "Come sign my shirt Ollie!" "Oh-Em-Gee! Ollie Bright! Oh my gosh! I can't believe it!" Spinning around I spot my oldest friend, Bodhi, with his curly blonde hair tucked away under a beanie, blue eyes gleaming bright, and my other best friend, Oakley, bright red hair whipping in the wind as they shout from the stands - obviously not daring to jump the barrier as my family had. Rolling my eyes and grinning brightly I wave and head over to the blockade to pull my two best friends into half hugs over the bar. "Shut up, you dingbats!" I chuckle.

"For real Olls! This'll be worth a LOT when you're on you're a Lioness, girl!" Bodhi hypes me up mockingly. "Shut up dude, I'm barely a league player yet!"

"You will be though! We all know it Dots!" Billie pops into the conversation, as my siblings join the group. "Nah, nah. That's all Mills!" I reply, reminding everyone of the pride I hold for my big sister's first Senior England cap earlier this year. "We'll be out there together one day Dottie, stop being so humble," the girl herself nudges me.

"Yeah, well this guy will be away surfing in the tropics by the time it comes around. Won't even make a game," I throw back, as I tease the younger boy. "Well, I'll be at every single one of them! Be all over your socials with all my pics, I will." Oakley, my photography-obsessed friend, jumps into the conversation. "I'll hold you to that ya know," I point at her as my dad's arm drops over my shoulder.

"Right, ready to head out?"

"And you're sure you've got everything, Dottie? Toothbrush? Football boots? PJ's?" Mum frets about, checking my belongings through all the car windows as she spoke to me, "oh! Mr Ted! You mustn't forget Mr Ted! Are you sure you have him?"

After our traditional post-match meal and catch up at our local pub, The White Knight. Friends and family gathered back at the Bright household as it was time for me to make my leave. Although I had already experienced my fair share of emotional goodbyes as Billie and Bea had to head out early to meet Bea's brother for birthday drinks.

"Yes, mum!" I sigh, "I promise I have everything! And anything I don't we can pick up when we're back for Christmas, all right?" I enforce, pulling her into a hug. "Oh darling," She sighs, a tear slipping down her cheek, "you'll call, won't you? Dad didn't get you that fancy phone as a leaving present for nothing." Emotions are high, with her youngest child leaving the nest it's understandable. "Yes, mum. I promise!"

"Leave off Nicki, she's a big girl and she's got Mills looking after her too remember!" Dad's gentle hand on mum's shoulder encourages her final tight squeeze before she pulls back. "You're right, you're right. Millie dear! You'll take good care of your sister, won't you?" Her volume dips as she moves to fret over her eldest child. That is Mum's best way to deal with her sadness, by worrying and caring for everyone else.

Being left with Dad we both shake our heads at her antics as we watch her walk away, "we'll all miss you Ottie-Dots. But we're so, so proud of everything you've achieved; everything we know you'll achieve." Looking up, his face has dropped from the last time I'd glanced at him. "Pops," I whisper with a frown, pulling him into a tight hug. "Oh baby girl, it's going to be so quiet around here without you," he frowns.

"Hey," I nudge him, "what happened to me being a big girl, ay?" I gain a chuckle as his eyes weep ever so slightly before he pulls away and wipes at them. "You'll enjoy the peace after dealing with your tornado child for 16 years," I add.

Nudging me back with a grin he jokes, "tornado child is certainly right! Within a week we'll be missing your god-awful shower karaoke and having to swat at you for sitting on the counters though." We laugh with each other before he nods across to where Bodhi, Oakley, and Ave are standing with their heads down, chatting in low tones, "you should go, say goodbye." With a slow nod, I agree and walk towards my little ragtag group of best friends.

"You guys plotting all the laughs you're gonna have now I'm leaving?" The sarcasm leaves me before I can control it as I join my group. Ave has tears silently streaming down her cheeks and shakes her head at me, despite being the oldest she's certainly the most emotional. "I can't even joke with you right now Olls, I can't believe I'm admitting to missing you," Bodhi speaks, as he raises his head and I see a storm in his, usually bright, blue eyes. "We love you so much Olls. It's not gonna be the same playing without you." Ave is the next to speak, latching herself onto my neck. Being the youngest on the team I was terrified of the idea of making friends, but at my first practice, Avery approached me with a smile and asked to be partners. Despite being two years older than me we immediately clicked and she never made me feel worse for being young. Never got jealous over the fact I'd signed for a bigger team either, not like some of the older women.

"We have something for you though," Oakley begins, "it's nothing much, you know we're all strapped for cash. But just so you don't forget us." A sob is brewing in her throat as she finishes and from the bag at her feet, she produces a scrapbook. ’Scruffy + his girls' scrawled across the front in, what is obviously, Bodhi's awful attempt at bubble writing. "Aww, guys! You didn't have to! Thank you! I'd never forget you guys though." I blink back my tears as I inspect the cover page and hug Oakley in thanks. My friendship with Oakley started in year 7 at Eckington Secondary. We were in the same form group and our surnames came next to each other on the register, Bright and Connell, we sat next to each other in every seating plan in every single class and quickly became joint at the hip after, bonding over our dislike of ketchup in history.

"Okay, my turn," Bodhi demands, snatching me close as I bury my face into his neck, trying to store his classic scent of sandalwood with a hint of coconut in my memories. Being neighbours since birth there have been very few days where I haven't been able to wander into the Strike's garden and climb the treehouse outside his window to ask if he wants to play football, trade Match Attax's or beg him to teach me to skateboard. But also, climb through and ask for a cuddle on a tough day, or rant out all my frustrations over a game of Fifa where he’d give surprisingly good advice. "You make me a promise Dots?" He mutters into my hair. "What?" I whisper. "Don't be lonely, yeah?" He pulls away, holding me at arms-length, "make some friends at your new school, on the team! Wherever you end up. Heck! Maybe get a boyfriend," he exasperates, "or girlfriend - if you swing that way?" He then adds with a cheeky wink, classic Bodhi.

"I promise I will not be a sad, lonely, slob Bodes," I joke, "but you know as well as anyone my love life is non-existent and very likely to stay that way." With a solemn nod and a flash of hurt in his eyes, he nods in realisation.

"I love you and I will miss you all, you're gonna get sick of how much I'm calling you," I announce as I back away from my friends and over to Millie.

"You ready to go kiddo?" She asks, pulling me into her side and glancing down at me. "As I'll ever be," I nod, before taking a step away and around the car. I pull my parents in for a final hug, telling each that I love and will miss them.

After my final goodbye, I climb into the car, pulling the seatbelt across my body. Millie also bids our parents goodbye and joins me in her car, turning on the engine, the heating and the radio she glances at me before reversing out of the drive. I wave to everyone standing under the streetlamps, even Bodhi's parents standing in their open doorway.

Glancing down at the scrapbook in my lap I finally let a tear fall, landing and dissolving into the blue card across the front.

"Chelsea, here we come."

[officialbruciewayne]

"Barbara Lindgren 3959 S. Norton Ave residential record marriage license Virginia"

@timblrdrake @dottie-mcveigh @redrobinfr @joker-junior @sillyjokes

last google search, go

um. Tag four people.

what do they make sewer tunnels out of

@ncc1701ohno @affixjoy @the-magpieprince @twinkboimler

[machomannrs]

 insulation materials edmonton 111 steet and 105 ave edmonton. manager eugene shandro. finger in his nose, finger in his mouth, all day all the time. he drove a 1978 purgandy chev short box with a 545 chev engine, just like the one that IAN BANCROFT cook suncor camp kitchen 1977 christmas picked myself kelly brian dombrowski and my sister crystal gay dombrowski up at the CN TOWER edmonton and drove to tarbarrel bombs at el cantero, across the street basillo badillo from joe@joejackspv.com

with dotti el fyad picking his nose and eatting his snot, like no one notices. just like eujene shandro owner of eklecric

[they-bite]

i'm a simple man. i see "danny's obituary" in your tag game, i send an ask

don’t take the dates to heart, but

DANIEL “DANNY” JAMIE PACQUAIO-FENTON, 14, AMITY PARK Daniel “Danny” Jamie Pacquaio-Fenton, 14, of Amity Park, Ill. died at his home on Sept. 30, 2020. Born Oct. 14, 2006, in Green Bay, Wis., he was the son of Madeline “Maddie” and Jack Pacquaio-Fenton of Amity Park. He is survived by a sister: Jasmine “Jazz” Pacquaio-Fenton of Amity Park; three aunts: Alicia (the late Goodwin) Fenton, Nellie (Emmett) Mix and Josephine Fenton, all of Blackbear, Ark.; two uncles: Ira (Mary) Fenton and Clark (Christina) Fenton Jr., all of Blackbear; numerous cousins and step-cousins; three friends: Tucker Foley, Samantha "Sam" Manson and Valerie Gray of Amity Park; a godfather: Vladimir “Vlad” Masters of Madison, Wis.; and numerous family members and friends. He was preceded in death by his paternal grandparents: Bituin (nee Nuñez) and Eric Pacquaio; and maternal grandparents: Dottie (nee Diver) and Clark Fenton. Visitation will be from 4-8 p.m. Friday, Oct. 3, at McCoy Funeral Home, 555 Temple Ave., in Amity Park. Funeral services will be at 10 a.m. Saturday, Oct. 4, at the funeral home. Burial will be in Lucky Cemetery in Amity Park. Arrangements are under the direction of McCoy Funeral Home.

[burlveneer-music]

Dummy - Mandatory Enjoyment - Vanishing Twin has serious competition for the Stereolab baton

Los Angeles band Dummy refuses to slow down. After releasing two cassette EP’s in 2020 (on Popwig and Born Yesterday respectively), Dummy’s debut full-length album arrives via Chicago’s Trouble in Mind Records. Employing pummeling guitars and celestial ambience within the same breath, the band folds a myriad of reference points into their drone-pop style. Influence from '60s melodicism and '90s UK noise pop can be found woven in with inspiration from spiritual jazz, Japanese new age, and Italian minimalism. Dummy dodges the brooding, dark, dramatic tropes of contemporary "artistic" music often found in punk, experimental, and electronic, instead insisting on joyous and euphoric sonic palettes. They refuse to be artistically stagnant, continuously shifting their approach to writing across 12 tracks. Shaped by performances around Los Angeles in 2019, songs like "Daffodils" and "Fissured Ceramics" feature relentless driving energy and ample psychedelic noise. Elsewhere, Dummy counterbalances the aggression with meditative synthscapes focused on sound design and studio experimentation, like on the motorik "X-Static Blanket". Finally, centerpiece "H.V.A.C." and the album's final track, "Atonal Poem", seek to synthesize these two poles, offering multi-part journeys through uncharted sonic territory. In contrast to blissed-out instrumentation, Dummy's sardonic lyricism examines "the burden of modern life, consumerism, environmental collapse, alienation, and other anxieties born out of living in this absurd moment in history". Interior design, marine pollution, the psychology of commercial architecture, and nuclear testing are all featured subjects. Dummy's restless creativity keeps them moving ever-forward, continuously challenging themselves and pushing their sound into exciting and exhilarating places. This is - as the album title suggests - "Mandatory Enjoyment".

Dummy: Alex, Emma, Joe & Nathan. Listen: Listen: Mo Dotti, NIGHTSHIFT, Smoke Bellow, Blue Ocean, AV Moves, Omni Gardens, Jock Gang, Lifeguard, Les Halles, Mope Grooves, Shaki Tavi, UV-TV, Posmic, Dylan Moon, Blue Zero, Gum Country, Versing, All Hits, Laraaji, Gold Cage, Stuck, SiP, Dream Crease, Bookhouse, DWP, Toner, Entry, Caution, Green-House, Automatic, Documa, FACS, Landing, Los Dolores and Peel Dream Magazine.

[shierajones]

Agnes Analysis

As previously stated, on Valentine’s Day my husband and I did a rewatch of all the WandaVision episodes thus far so that I could take the time to do a deeper analysis on Agnes and explain why she is suspicious and good. I need to amend my thoughts and say that she is suspicious and not the villain.

I don’t think she’s good necessarily…but she’s not bad. She’s naughty as they keep telling us and naughty is playful. I do think she’s 100% Agatha Harkness, but Agatha isn’t a villain despite what you may hear in some circles.

Look at her name Agnes. Agatha Harkness. Maybe she’s named that as a misdirection, but I doubt it.

 Moving on to the series and my nonsense analysis:

 When we start the series, it seems clear that the “show” is already running and there are episodes that we, the audience, have not seen. However, we don’t get to view the situation until Agnes returns to town. Yes, the episode starts with Vision and Wanda in their home, but they are the main characters so of course it would. Still, our first episode is her first episode.

 When Vision leaves for work, Agnes appears and says, “I’m Agnes, your neighbor to the right. My right, not yours. Forgive me for not stopping by sooner to welcome you to the block. My mother-in-law was in town, so I wasn’t.”

Right off the bat, Agnes is suspicious. These lines are suspicious. Specifically, “My right, not yours.” I don’t think she’s referring to the actual location of her house (Herb lives to the left of them and he is not her husband). I think she’s referring to her place in this story. She’s been placed there by her right, not Wanda’s.

 Important note: her anniversary is June 2nd…Salem Witch Trials. Agatha Harkness confirmation.

 To the episode, Wanda turns to Agnes for assistance and she leads her down the wrong direction. Perhaps how Agatha leads Wanda down the wrong direction in seeking help prior to the start of the Hex…

She is also the one to make Wanda start questioning her marriage and her reality because of their lack of song, anniversary and rings.

 We get the first “You’re so naughty!” in this sequence.

 Another thing I noticed in the first episode is that every time Agnes appears to apparently help, things get more complicated and the “ingredients” meant to aid Wanda, bring her more chaos.

 Moving on to episode two, Agnes is in their house in the intro while everyone else is outside. Because she is in the inner circle. Still, she is noticeably alone even though she is apparently married. Suspect husband.

 In the episode, she says “Look, it’s the star of the show,” and pretends it’s about the rabbit but I think it’s a slight test of Wanda’s awareness of the Hex and this odd sitcom. Agnes is testing Wanda’s reaction.

 We also get another nod to Agnes as Agatha with her rabbit’s name Senor Scratchy like Agatha’s son Nicholas Scratch.

 Then we see that strange exchange with the mailman which makes him suspect as hell too! And once again, Agnes tries to help Wanda by warning her about Dottie, but instead makes her nervous about the situation that turns out poorly because of the pressure.

Important lines to note in this scene:

“The devil’s in the details Bev”

Agnes “That’s not the only place he is.” Interesting.

 For the rest of episode two and most of episode three we see less of Agnes and I think that’s because of Geraldine (Monica)’s presence. For reasons Agnes doesn’t understand, Wanda quickly grows fond of “Geraldine” and she steps into the role Agnes is supposed to play in her life.

 Agnes and Herb question her existence because she doesn’t belong, and she’s being invited into the inner circle. It seems that Agnes is worried that “Geraldine” will lead Wanda down the wrong path or at least the path to the truth she’s trying to hide.

 Episode four doesn’t have much development in the WandaVision fake series but we do see that Agnes’ identity is not known. They have no real name for her and she doesn’t appear to be a New Jersey resident like almost every other relevant character.

 In episode five we see that Monica’s exit leads to an increase in Agnes’ role again, “Auntie Agnes.” Also, with Monica gone, Agnes solidly knows that Wanda is aware of the illusion. She continues to play her part, but she addresses Wanda directly when things start to move off script. Despite being in front of Vision, she brings attention to Wanda’s control of the world. I think she’s moved on from Wanda and is now trying to wake up Vision.

 Strange note: the babies stop crying when Agnes breaks character. Wanda’s magic doesn’t work on them but somehow their cries are tied to the sitcom narrative and Agnes’ actions.

 “Kids, you can’t control them. No matter how hard you try.” Weird line. Is she referring to Wanda trying to control them or her?

 Later when she claims to have seen the dog from her kitchen window I again have to question how. She is not next door! How can she see into their fenced in yard from the view of her house?

 We finally see outside of her Bewitched styled home—Agatha Harkness nod—and I say again, she is not next door to them! Earlier in the scene in the kitchen she says, “Let’s just hope this dog stays the same size,” and then he dies eating bushes at her house thereby forever staying that size. Creepy and suspicious.

 Her face, however, in this entire interaction that follows is why I don’t believe she’s bad. She has genuine concern on her face when the kids say that Wanda can bring back the dead and a wave of relief passes over her when Wanda says, “Some things are forever.” Watching Wanda and her children, Agnes looks like she’s relieved that Wanda is growing and willing to accept death and wants her children to do the same. It’s the first time she shows true vulnerability and I think (or maybe just hope) that’s because in her own strange way she doesn’t wish ill on Wanda.

 Fast forward to episode six and once again we see less of Agnes because of the introduction of a new character. The fake Pietro.

 When we finally see Agnes, dressed as a witch fully confirming her identity as a witch (given that all the other main characters are dressed in nods to their true identities Herb is dressed as Frankenstein’s monster and the concern that brings me is big) she is somewhat frozen but not fully. Just as she is somewhat under Wanda’s control but not fully. Her lines here are vital!

In this trance-like state she tells Vision that she “got lost, took a wrong turn.” Pointing to the narrative of this story. She and Wanda are lost, and things (like the apparent resurrection of Wanda’s dead brother) have taken a wrong turn. She’s lost. She doesn’t understand her purpose here anymore. She’s on Ellis Ave trying to escape but she doesn’t really know if that’s what she’s doing. When Vision “wakes” her, she immediately clutches at her neck/chest seemingly in search of her broach. The necklace she usually wears could have been the thing keeping her out of Wanda’s control but Pietro’s appearance (and the strange necklace he now wears) have taken that from her. She asks Vision if she’s dead. In the comics Wanda does kill Agatha, but we’re not there yet. Probably. But she asks because Vision is dead and then she screams dead over and over again as if he’s not the only dead thing around. Look back at my thoughts about Herb. He’s dressed as Frankenstein’s monster and if we can apply the same logic to his costume as the other relevant characters, that could be pointing to the fact that he is a reanimated body. SO CREEPY! SO SUSPICIOUS!

 Agnes name drops Wanda where Norm didn’t when he was taken out of the trance. I don’t think this is just to place the blame on Wanda and take the focus away from her. Agnes is still trying to wake up Vision so she’s giving him answers where Norm had none, but I also think she is speaking to her position. Wanda’s magic is growing and she has finally taken control over Agnes where she was limited before. 

There are holes in her story to Vision that Wanda is behind it all, but she’s still hiding a significant truth. She’s probably protecting her “husband” the real villain of this story.

[ediejuliaroxy]

AF Filming Locations

A few days ago, I was in Brooklyn and decided to pass by 225 Wythe Ave, which is where “Carol and Dottie’s Diner” is located. It was really windy and cold out so I stopped at a coffee shop called Dépanneur across the street. I walked in and immediately recognized it because it’s the place where Amanda and Edie get their coffee in episodes 110 and 111! I’m not sure if there was hemp milk on the menu, but they also sell a bunch of artisanal foods and fine goods so I feel like there might have been some for sale. I ended up getting a cappuccino and it was one of the best I’ve had in a while. ☕️

[captainlordauditor]

300x3 1:01

I’ve decided to attempt to join @klaineharmony in the 300x3 challenge! The idea is to write at least 900 words a week in 3 spurts of at least 300, and share them to encourage others to do the same and hold yourself accountable for actually writing. I know myself well enough to know that I won’t be working on the same work, or even the same fandom, all the time, but progress is still progress. 

This is my first day of my first week (thus 1:01 in the title) and it’s for my Spot backstory fic, “In Hell I’ll Be In Good Company”. Word count of this wip is 486, which I’m very proud of!

 Important notes about language used in this fic:

 I’m using what I can trace as period terms for members of the queer community. I don’t know for sure how many of these were in use in 1892 specifically, or how specific these words got, so I am taking a rather broad definition of “period”, for the sake of communication. Many of these terms have since fallen out of favor, and are considered insults or slurs today, but I can tell you that none of them are being used as slurs within the context of this fic. So proceed with caution if that bothers you.

Jumping off of that, I can’t totally speak for the accuracy of the specifics of the term dyke here. My understanding is that it hasn’t changed use as much as the word queer has (beyond the separation of wlw and transmasc communities), and I know that Jonathan Green has traced it to around 1890. What I don’t know is if it always referred to someone who was butch, where it originated, or how common it was - if anyone knows of any terms that were definite, please let me know.

The word “lovemaking” here is also used in its period context, in the same way we might use “canoodling” or “PDA”.

Dotty had to think about it. “There’s dykes, I guess,” she said after a while. “I don’t know much about them, though. The ones I’ve met don’t mind being women, they just mind the skirts and the men. Not like me.”

“Is that what other fairies thinks? They doesn’t mind the being men parts, just the girls?”

Dotty made a face. “No, not really. I mean there are fairies that don’t mind being men and just want to be with them but- there’s fairies that like girls, or at least fairies that like other fairies, same as there’s ones that like trade. I guess maybe there’s dykes like that, but I haven’t heard about any of them yet. Look, kid - Finnegan - how old are you?”

“Ten?”

“How old are you really?”

Finnegan hesitated. “Nine.”

“Not looking at anyone else yet?”

“You mean -”

“For kissing. Or handholding, or any lovemaking, really.”

Finnegan frowned. “No. And I ain’t looking at anyone for sex, neither.”

Dotty made another face, then shook it off. “Then don’t worry about it just yet. Keep to your pants, though. You’re working with the newsies, selling papes, right? Girls can’t sell them until they’re twelve. Kid, you can pass as a lot of things, but twelve sure as hell isn’t one of them. And don’t say you’re ten. Did the others teach you anything?”

Finnegan shrugged. “Not really. One of ‘em showed me to a spot, and he said not to let no one take it from me and if someone did to find him and he’d help me soaks ‘em. And someone read me the headline.”

Dotty stared at him. “Can’t you read?”

“Ma made sure I could read Ave Maria but I don’t practice much.”

She sighed and dragged her hand down her face. “Look, I - God. Fuck. I can’t believe I’m doing this. First, dress in boys clothes, like I said. Most bulls don’t care, but some do. And it keeps you safer from other folks, too. You’ll get beat up more, but you’ll keep your freedom longer. Got it?”

He nodded. “I doesn’t want girls clothes, anyway. That’s why I ain’t with my Ma.”

Her face softened. “She didn’t like it?”

He shook his head. “My Ma doesn’t like lots of things.”

Dotty looked like she was about to reach out and hug him but stopped herself. “Right. Well, that makes things easier. Second - learn to lie. Don’t sound so unsure when you say you’re ten, and don’t say you’re ten at all. When in doubt go younger, got it? That way people think you’re more innocent than you are.”

“My brothers said to say I was older,” he tells her. “So people don’t get upset that I’m out alone.”

“That might be right when you were a girl, but it matters less when you’re a boy.” She barked a bitter laugh. “I guess it does if you’re a fairy.”

[pangeanews]

“Ho ritrovato il celeste e il selvaggio”. Catherine Pozzi, la poetessa della notte

Un secolo fa, nel 1920, incontra Paul Valéry, non ne è l’amante né la musa, piuttosto, il totem. Lo incontra il giorno del suo trentottesimo compleanno, la sua è una bellezza trasparente, elfica, d’androgino. Gli occhi sembrano un espediente della notte. Famiglia abbiente, quella di Catherine Pozzi: il padre, Samuel, chirurgo d’alta fama, amico di Clemenceau, eletto in stima da Robert Proust, il fratello di Marcel – che era solito frequentare il salotto di casa Pozzi – è dipinto in una affascinante vestaglia rossa da John Singer Sargent, è ammazzato, il giorno del compleanno della prima figlia, Catherine, nel 1918, da un paziente, un malato psichico.

*

Figura di donna astratta, inflessibile e in fuga, Catherine: pratica la scrittura giovanissima, passa gli esperimenti poetici al vaglio del fuoco, studia a Oxford, si sposa nel 1909 con Édouard Bourdet, incerto drammaturgo, per noia, svogliatamente gli dà un figlio, Claude, preferendo la compagnia di Marcel Schwob. Destinata agli amori dispari, a stivare il corpo nella mandorla della mente, Catherine si fa incantare da André Fernet, letterato e ardito che nel 1916 muore durante un duello aereo. Nel 1921 pone fine al matrimonio con Bourdet, si unisce a Valéry – coniugato a Jeannie – ed è già rosa dalla tubercolosi che se la mangia, a Parigi, il 3 dicembre del 1934.

*

Scrittrice iperborea, esoterica, che inietta il verbo in atto magico – perciò nascosto –, ardente nel carisma dell’autodistruzione, l’opera di Catherine Pozzi, di traslucida violenza, è del tutto postuma, prima nei Poèmes, per Gallimard, nel 1959, poi nell’Oeuvre poétique curata da Lawrence Joseph nel 1989. Il primo dicembre del 1929 è pubblica sulla “NRF” la sola poesia edita in vita dalla Pozzi – nome che s’incardina nel caso di quell’altra Pozzi, Antonia. La poesia s’intitola Ave, ha porzioni di indifesa grandezza, come se dagli occhi si potesse mungere vetro:

Quando sarò per me stessa perduta E divisa nell’abisso infinito Infinitamente, quando sarò sconfitta Quando il presente di cui sono rivestita Avrà tradito,

Per l’universo in mille corpi frantumata Di innumerevoli istanti non ancora riuniti Di cenere setacciata nei cieli fino al nulla Rifarete per una strana stagione Un solo tesoro

Rifarete il mio nome e la mia immagine Con mille corpi portati alla luce Viva unità senza nome e volto Cuore dello spirito, oh centro del miraggio Altissimo amore.

*

Quindi va distillata come un arcano, da ispirati che leccano la provvisorietà della parola, Catherine Pozzi. Intorno ad Ave Michel de Certeau, concludendo Fabula mistica, scrive Ouverture a una poetica del corpo. Scrive, tra l’altro: “È mistico colui o colei che non può fermare il cammino e che, con la certezza di ciò che gli/le manca, sa di ogni luogo e di ogni oggetto che non è questo, che qui non si può risiedere né contentarsi di quello. Il desiderio crea un eccesso. Eccede, passa e perde i luoghi. Fa andare più lontano, altrove. Non abita da nessuna parte”. Per questo è appropriato che la poesia della Pozzi, specie di lamina orfica, lunare, non si faccia leggere, chieda di andare alla macchia – e cercarla.

*

Tre anni prima di Ave, la Pozzi, “Sotto influsso della morfina scrive Vale, la prima delle poesie maggiori. Rifiuta di pubblicarla perché prefigura la rottura con Valéry” (Marco Dotti).

Ho ritrovato il celeste e il selvaggio Il paradiso dove l’angoscia è desiderio. Il passato che cresce di tempo in tempo È il mio corpo e sarà la mia sorte, Dopo il morire.

Quando in un corpo, mia delizia obliata, Dove fu il tuo nome, prenderà forma di cuore Rivivrò il nostro grande momento E questo amore che ti avevo dato Per il dolore.

*

La pubblicazione della Correspondance tra la Pozzi e Valéry, La flamme et la cendre (Gallimard, 2006) fu un evento, stipato in un malloppo di oltre 700 pagine. “Distrutto? Perduto? Sequestrato negli abissi di una biblioteca pubblica? Per tre quarti di secolo si sono sommate voci, sono esplosi pettegolezzi intorno a questo epistolario solforoso… Sullo sfondo dei salotti parigini e delle opulente stazioni di villeggiatura popolate dal bel mondo delle teste pensanti degli anni Venti, si sviluppa una relazione turbata, turbolenta, di insondabile disperazione, di indicibile pienezza. Diciamolo: queste lettere costituiscono, nel loro campo, un capolavoro”, scrive il curatore, Lawrence Joseph.

*

In Italia, l’esigua opera poetica della Pozzi è stampata in due libri, Il mio inferno (Medusa, 2006; per la cura di Marco Dotti) e Nyx e altre poesie (Via del Vento, 2013; a cura di Claudia Ciardi). Legata a Rainer Maria Rilke, di lui più glaciale – la Correspondance 1924-1925 è edita nel 1990 da La Différence –, installata da Cristina Campo tra gli spettri santi, la vita letteraria della Pozzi, che chiede il culto tributato alle divinità del sogno, è relegata nelle lettere – vasta la corrispondenza pure con Jean Paulhan – e soprattutto nel diario (edito nel 1987 come Journal: 1913-1934), pieno di agnizioni, di ulcere, di devote fratture. Da alcuni frammenti del diario, sembra che sia lì il diamante nero del carisma: “Io sono uno di quei punti particolari attraverso cui si irradia la sofferenza del pianeta”. Qui, in Agnès: “Tutto l’amore che nessuno raccoglie, chi sa mai dove va a finire? Ma io, io vi costringo anzitempo… Quando l’ora verrà, quando sarò pronta, con il vestito e col cuore – quando dirò: ‘adesso, adesso’, e voi non verrete (come tante altre volte in cui non siete venuto), non lascerò quel che ho di migliore dissiparsi fino all’altra riva del mondo”. Qui scrive di Valéry: “Parla, parla della sua potenza: un’ambizione implacabile improvvisamente alzata come un grande vento dietro questo spirito di cristallo, questo sentimento insensibile, questa impotenza della volontà. Vedo l’estremità della sua intelligenza. Il resto: vuoto assoluto”. Da qui andrebbero estratti materiali, macerie epistolari, per un grande libro su Catherine Pozzi.

*

Fu adorata da tutti – da Julien Benda a Ernst Robert Curtius e Paulhan – come l’altro che viene a screziare la fiducia nel mezzogiorno, come il veleno che rende sfrenata la gioia, sfuggente, in adempimento ai lutti. (d.b.)

L'articolo “Ho ritrovato il celeste e il selvaggio”. Catherine Pozzi, la poetessa della notte proviene da Pangea.

from pangea.news https://ift.tt/36jM6Qe

[stones-on-acid]

Please make a playlist for my name- I’m Kimberly 😊

K. King Medicine//Jets to Brazil

I. I'm A Loner Dottie, A Rebel//The Get Up Kids

M. Movie Star//Cracker

B. Blue Flower//Mazzy Star

E. E. Texas Ave//The Promise Ring

R. Rocket//The Smashing Pumpkins

L. London//Third Eye Blind

Y. You've Got A Friend In Pennsylvania//New Found Glory

[qslcardsonline]

Ray & Dottie De Bevoise 

105 Middle Ave.  Millville N.J.  08332

[crepuscolo-vibes]

SAFE

by @dottie-wan-kenobi and @lgbt-representation-is-beautiful

“Love you too, Mom,” she says and watches as Alice pulls away from the curb and drives away, finally headed back to Riverdale. Relief cascades over Betty immediately. She loves her mom, of course, she does, but the proximity to Jughead and where they’ll actually be staying – a two-bedroom loft apartment in 3rd Avenue North – is stressing her out. Alice and FP still have no idea that they’re married, purely based on luck, and they would surely be unhappy, to say the least.

Five minutes later, Betty’s still thinking about it as she steps into 3rd Ave. It’s the North Tower, made of brick like the other two, and just as tall. Somehow, they’ve managed to snag a room on the top floor, with a much better view than Betty had ever hoped for.

Jughead is waiting for her in the lobby, already settled in. FP didn’t come, so he got a ride from Fred, who was taking Archie to Julliard. He’d also been dropped off in front of U-Haul, though sometime before Betty and Alice came upon it.

It’s nice to see a familiar face here in New York, nice to have someone she knows so close by, even though she knows Cheryl, Toni, and Josie will all be at U-Hall. Josie’s rooming with Val and Melody in one of the “efficiency dorms” meant for three people, while Cheryl and Toni are sharing a similarly styled apartment to Betty and Jughead’s. Toni joked when she found out that’s where they’d all be staying, “I mean, we are very, very, very gay. It’s only right.” When Veronica and Kevin heard that, they’d lost their shit. Veronica and Kevin themselves share an amazingly lavish apartment off Broadway, that she only afford because of her money from Pop’s. Betty’s maybe a little bitter about it, despite the fact that she said no to all of Veronica’s offers.

“Hey, Betts,” he greets, reaching a hand out to grab the heavier bag. It gets slung over his shoulder easily, his other hand taking hers. Last night, through text, they decided to start the acting early. Everyone needs to be convinced, even the people they pass by in the lobby.

“How’s the room looking?” She looks up at him, barely watching where she’s going as they head for the elevator. She trusts him to keep her safe, to make sure she doesn’t bump into anyone. Also, her stomach is flip-flopping with the claim she has over him – fake as it is, no one around them knows that. They think he’s hers. That he’s unavailable to them.

Stop thinking about this, she tells herself. You’re just going to get your hopes up for nothing. He’s not yours, not really. You’ll just end up hurt.

Read the New Chapter HERE

or

Read from the Beginning

[jfastereft]

"ON THE DOT!" a poem  [a.k.a.: "Let's Keep The Poetic Dash Moving, On The Dot!"] February 7, 2019 (Thursday: Karaoke at Ole Crystal Bar, here in beautiful downtown Alpine, Texas, U. S. A., tonight at 10:30 P. M.!) dedicated: to the lady that started our POETRY GATHERING, here in beautiful downtown Alpine - at The Historic Holland Hotel (corner of 6th Street and Holland Ave.), held each Wednesday at 6:30 P. M., come rain or come SHINE!!   DOROTHY HARDING!  a.k.a.: "Dot!"

   DOTtie left!* We-were so sad,

So, we're DASHing to The Holland,** with-faces-painted-"glad,"

'Cause-our-DOT is back! We DASH & DASH,

To-The-Poetry-Gathering - for-a-"POETIC-BASH!"

 "Welcome-HOME-Poetry!"    with DASHes & DOT(s):

Poetic Morse Code! and we got ourselves lots,

Of-catching-up-to-do - and hugs to get!!!

We're-DASHing, to-see-DOT!   our poetic "pet,"

Who-is-our "time kee-per!"   We -love-her-moderating,  (pause)

Our POETIC HEARTS,     as-we're-participating!               :) - "2 BEE or not 2 BEE!"

  fin  <3

 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PosYhfaWdKA

   * - Dottie Harding left about a year ago - to go visit sick relatives in San Antonio, Texas, U. S. A.! Well, everything is better NOW! and we are happy that our poetic "friend" has returned, bustling with ideas and exuberance!   Yay!  Dot!    Welcome HOME!

 ** - The Historic Holland Hotel (here in Alpine)!  One of the finest overnight accommodations IN THE NATION!    

[chrishansler]

24604

This is my last night in this house. It is empty. It is quiet. And it has the same peace, the same sense of “home” it always has. We’ve lived in this house for 24 ½ years. Nine months after moving our young family back here from California, nine months into a new church plant, we bought this brand new home in “Orchard Park” at 24604 57th Ave. E. in Graham. Lisa and I were 30. Bobby was 5, Johnathan was 3 and Annie was 2. It was exciting. The paint was fresh, the front lawn was new and the yard was big! We had no plants, no trees, no back or side yards, no fence – just a nice patch of grass in the front of the house and a vision for what could be.

The yard was full of rocks like all of Graham soil, so we paid our kids 1 cent per rock if they picked them out of the back yard and piled them in the back. 😊 We didn’t have any money so I build a dirt sifter and I raked and sifted rocks out. Raking and sifting, raking and sifting. I was occasionally able to buy a truck load of sandy loam soil to spread in the back yard, and our friend and new church board member, Duane Nelson worked for Emerald Turf farms. So sometimes at the end of the work day he would take a pallet of sod that they were throwing out and bring it to me. So I would plant some seed, lay some sod and do what we had to do to create a back yard we would love. For a long time it wasn’t pretty. It was like a patchwork quilt of every shade of green and brown throughout the back yard. And we still didn’t have any trees. But that would soon change.

Mom and Dad were selling their house on Golden Given so I took their young Northern Spy apple tree. They had some wild evergreen starts growing in their back woods, so I took some 3’ Douglas fir, a couple of Cedar tree sprouts and a little pine tree. Working for Northwest Building services I had the opportunity to take a couple of beautiful Sunset Red maple trees out of a strip mall that was renovating and getting rid of them. It took a flatbed and six guys to move those trees. One went in the front yard, and one in the back corner on top of an area that had been raised by all the rocks we raked and moved. I took one of Debi’s rhododendrons that Mom Hansler had planted when she lived in that house. Eventually our yard began to take shape with vine maples from mom & dad’s new property, as well as a dark red ornamental hazelnut tree and a beautiful mountain ash that mom gave me. We built our cedar fence and we planted pear, apple, peach, cherry, and Asian pear trees.

I built a play house with an attached swing set for the kids. The neighbor boy Torsten peed in that play house. That will forever be his legacy in our minds. I put a little pond in the raised area in the back with little goldfish and koi. We had a little garden on the side of the house. It was the perfect yard for wiffle ball. We would have neighborhood home-run derbies with awards. We played volleyball, badminton and I hit plastic golf balls back there. One time Annie had a party and we played kickball with her friends but one of her big high school friends ran me over at home plate. We had so many great times around the fire out there, looking at the stars, roasting marshmallows, watching movies projected on the back of the house, and even having a live backyard barbecue concert by Rod Nash one time back there!

We had church gatherings in our home. In the early days of our church we had a “small group” at our house with 17 adults and 24 kids. It was nuts, but it was so beautiful and fun. We’d have friends over and play games into the late hours of the night. Our kids played hard – sometimes too hard, sliding down the stairs in sleeping bags and leaving dents in the front door that I can still see as a glance over there – happy little memory dents.

We had the perfect yard for dogs – large and fully fenced. But it wasn’t enough for Dottie, our first Springer Spaniel. She was fast, she could jump high, and she was naughty. She would jump the 4’ fence like it was nothing and she wasn’t always nice to the neighbors so I had to build her a dog house to try to contain her. It didn’t. She got out and had a one-night stand with a stray neighbor dog, horrifying all of the neighborhood children who witnessed it. Dottie went to live with a nice elderly couple who would let her live inside their house. So we got Jill. Jill was a good dog, but mom and dad needed a dog so Jill became dad’s dog. Jack was the first black lab I ever owned. He was also the first big dog I ever let live inside the house. Jack was a big, lumbering, always-panting friend to everyone. He was truly the “best dog of all the dogs.” He loved the back yard. And now, no dog has ever loved our yard like JJ loves our yard – chasing squirrels, driving out crows and catching frisbees. It is his domain.

But it wasn’t only dogs at this home. We had Misty – the beautiful, albeit sometimes cranky, cat. Skitty – a stray neighborhood cat that we sort of adopted. Furball was a great little gray cat. But he liked to be inside and outside. He always got excited when we came home, until that fateful day when I didn’t seem him as I pulled in the garage with all of the kids in the suburban. It was terrible to lose him. We buried him near Misty in the back yard. That loss resulted in getting two half-brothers, Shadow and Fuzzball – loving, independent cats. Fuzzball is sitting next to me on one side and JJ on the other on this last night in the house.  We have also had fish in the pond, and those fish attracted raccoons, a big grey heron and a bald eagle! And I have loved watching the countless chickadees, finches, pine-siskins, sparrows and swallows. John always had swallow babies in the birdhouse mounted next to his bedroom window.

And on Christmas our house stole the neighborhood show. The streaming lights down from the star, the driveway lights, the post lights, the light-post Christmas tree, the snowman, the outdoor music and the nativity from Pastor Gene. Sometimes God would even give us a little snow to make it really pop.

The kids grew up here. The house was literally their classroom for many years. They each had their own space and they made it their own. John with his video games, K’nex and candy; Bob with his music, maps and reading; and Annie with her entrepreneurial spirit – with ever changing wall colors, clothing designs and even selling candy out of her room to the boys for a profit one time. So much laughter rang through these walls.

When we bought the house Lisa and I thought it was significant that we were right in the center – perhaps to make a little difference in the neighbor’s lives around us. Lisa quickly made a best friend in Pam Davis, and our kids played together. We remember Blain & Cindy, Luke and the twins; Gary & Kim across the street, Jim & Sharon and Kelly & Iris. Kelly still lives here too, and I said goodbye to him today. I married Steve & Brenda in their home. We tried to show love to Jeff & crazy Wendy behind us – even paying for and building a fence for them with some church friends. I used to walk the neighborhood and pray with Len Phillips. Adam & Nikke, Chloe, Lila, Amelia and now Josiah  have been such great neighbors – taking care of our animals when we’re gone; sharing sugar, eggs, flour; letting each other in countless times when we locked ourselves out, and always shouting “hi” from wherever they were. We’re really going to miss them. Maybe we made a little difference here. I hope so.

I’ve prayed every day in this house. I’ve prayed for Lisa and each of our kids. I’ve drafted vision here for new adventures that have become reality. I’ve wept over heartache, disappointment and loss. I’ve sat by the pond and just listened so many times. I’ll miss walking my dog to Centennial, talking to God, listening to scripture as I go.

This year has been really, really tough. When dad died I came home and walked through these trees that grew in his yard originally, and they reminded me of his deep roots, his love for outdoors and beauty, and his quiet strength. Mom needs help – she needs to be with family. And this week, as we were preparing for our move, Bonnie died of cancer. Then, within the hour of Bonnie’s passing, Lisa received biopsy results confirming breast cancer. We haven’t really been able to savor these last days here because we are trying to survive some pretty devastating news. But we will miss it here. It has always been a place I couldn’t wait to get to. I’m so grateful for that.

Tomorrow we will begin new dreams in a new place. There will be new trees to plant, new fruit to harvest, new friends and new places to walk, run and ride our bikes to. Maybe this will be a place where our kids-in-law come and grandkids. That place will ring with love and laughter to. We will share life with mom there for a while. I will walk with Lisa as she beats cancer in a new neighborhood. She says that in that community it “always feels like a vacation.” That is my hope – that it will be a refuge for us, for our kids and family and for our friends.

Now I’m 55, Lisa is 54, Bobby is 29, John is 28 and Annie is 26. The house I sit in tonight is older, the carpets are worn, but the yard is mature and beautiful – full of life and growth. I hope the new owner loves it and enjoys it as much as I have. I hope they mow straight lines in the lawn and put up Christmas lights. I hope they sense the peace here. Thank you God for our home.