#Eye doctor Woodbridge

[astrophileous]

DEREK TALKING TO LITTLE BUG WAS ADORABLE I'M NOT DOING WELL (i might just be touch starved idk)

also derek's definitely suuuper overprotective like even more when bug is pregnant, it's Bad

You're touch-starved, I'm touch-starved, we're all touch-starved boo. Isn't that why we're here fantasizing about fictional men :")

but omg yeah yeah yeah I see your vision. I think bcs of what happened to her, the doctor would recommend Extra Maternity Care for Bug. like Derek would've already been bad if it was a normal pregnancy, but as soon as he heard the word "risky" from the doctor's mouth, it was as if all sense flew out of the window

btw this turned out to be more emotional than I planned KJKJAASSJ I'M SO SORRY I GOT CARRIED AWAY

Love Bugs Masterlist / Criminal Minds Masterlist

"Just what the hell do you think you're doing?"

Derek's voice boomed in the middle of the HQ bullpen, attracting the attentions of fellow agents nearby including those of your team who were still in the office.

You rotated your head left and right, searching for the object of Derek's sudden vexation, only to realize a few seconds later that his eyes had been staring straight at you.

"You're talking to me?"

Instead of answering, Derek marched the few feet of distance separating you from him. "What are you doing, Bug?"

You raised your eyebrows in genuine confusion. "Um, strapping my gun to its holster?"

"You're not going out there."

"Excuse me?"

It had been a few weeks since the whole fiasco of your abduction. After a few days of staying in the hospital and a couple more weeks of bedrest, your doctor had finally cleared you back for duty. You were beginning to get antsy about going back to work, but your doctor's note was clear: you needed to take it easy once you were back, considering that the rough start to your pregnancy meant more risks looming overhead.

It wasn't an ideal situation, but for the sake of your baby, you swallowed the hard pill without a fight. Hotch couldn't be more understanding when you explained what was going on to him. He promised you that you could sit out any strenuous and potentially harming activities during the course of any investigation that might have fallen on the BAU's lap. Your fellow teammates were just as considerate, vowing to cover your ass at any instance you might need.

All and all, everyone around you was pretty clear-headed about the whole situation.

Except for Derek.

Since your last doctor visit, Derek had been driving you nuts with his overprotective streak. It was adorable, at first. The fact that he was extremely worried something might happen to you and the baby that he kept refusing to leave your side even when you were only stepping out to grab the mail or pay for takeout. But then, it got worse.

While his overprotectiveness seemed to have infiltrated every aspect of your life, it previously never affected your job at any capacity. Until now. You were seething internally over the fact that Derek had chosen to do this--to speak to you like this--at your place of work, where your coworkers could listen in to every word exchanged between the two of you.

Not wanting to cause a scene, you took a deep breath to press down the frustration, before your leveled voice spoke, "It's just a routine questioning, Derek. I'll be fine."

"You're not going out on the field, Bug."

"Derek." His name sounded like a threat through your teeth. "I'm not going out there to see a suspect, or to insert myself in a dangerous situation. Emily and I are just going to take a quick drive down to Woodbridge to interview the victim's family. Nothing is going to happen."

"Yeah, Morgan," Emily's voice chimed in from somewhere to your left. "It's gonna be fine. It's just routine questioning. I'm sure we can ma--"

Emily stopped talking and threw her hands in surrender once she noticed the daggers in Derek's eyes. You watched as she scurried off, as far away from the two of you as possible.

"You promised you'll take it easy," Derek said.

"I am taking it easy! I told you, it's just a normal questioning!"

Your own anger was threatening to burst by this point. Before one or the two of you could say something further--something that would warrant a lengthy call from the HR department--Derek tugged you towards the vacant pantry in the corner. Once inside, he closed the door behind him to shut out the rest of the floor from your private conversation.

"Do you realize how insane you've been acting?" Your voice dripped with anger. "I know you're worried, I get it. I appreciate it. But jeez, Derek, you aren't letting me breathe here. I can't do anything without you lurking around my fucking neck!"

The last echo of your voice dissipated into thin air, and yet, Derek still seemed to be rooted in the same spot he had been standing on since the two of you entered this pantry. He pinched the bridge of his nose for a second before that intense gaze was back to lighting fire on your skin.

"Do you know you were dead?"

"What?"

"In that basement. You were dead when I found you."

The frown between your eyebrows cleared once you realized Derek was talking about the abduction.

He had been refusing to talk about that ever since you came back home.

"I couldn't find a pulse when I got to you. I was the one who did the chest compressions before the paramedics arrived. I saw the heart monitor, Bug. You flatlined." Derek took a large step forward. "You were dead, and I held you in my arms. So forgive me if you think I'm being crazy with all of this, but the sight of you not breathing isn't exactly something I wanna see twice in my life."

The weight of Derek's admission settled heavily in the center of the room. Little by little, the ice that had hardened inside your chest was starting to melt. You looked deeper into Derek's unrelenting gaze, realizing that beneath the irrational protectiveness actually lay a justifiable fear he was trying to hide.

"I'm sorry you had to go through that, Derek," you offered sincerely. "But you can't keep me on a leash just because you're scared of hypothetical scenarios. The past is just that: the past. I'm safe now. Me and the baby are safe and we're here with you."

Derek closed his eyes and sighed. "I just don't want to lose you."

"And you won't. But you will drive me away if you keep this up," you told him. "Tell you what, I'll sit this one out for now. Just don't expect much from me for next time, yeah?"

"Thank you," Derek breathed out in relief. He closed the few feet of distance between the two of you in two long strides before securing you in his arms, pressing a grateful kiss to your hairline. "Thank you."

"Remember, this is a two-way street, Mister," you said as you looked straight into his eyes. "I'm expecting compromises to be made."

Derek flashed you a charming grin before answering, "Yes, ma'am."

When he pulled you in for a kiss, it was as if every remaining frustration in your bones dissolved into thin air.

The next few weeks managed to transpire in a mutual compromise. You tried to appease Derek's mind by choosing your responsibilities accordingly, while Derek tried reining in his protective instinct, even if miserably.

Still, even with the intensity lessened, sometimes Derek's antics were just too outrageous to excuse.

"Derek, you know this is absolute crazy, right?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Derek shrugged before adjusting the hold he had around your body.

It was the day of the earthquake drill at Quantico. Just thirty minutes prior, everyone in the building had been directed to evacuate from the emergency exit in a single file. Though it did explain the reason why you found yourself stuck in the middle of a barely moving line on the staircase, it didn't, however, explain the reason why you found yourself being carried in Derek's arms, bridal style.

"This is completely ridiculous," you grumbled once the line started moving again. "Everyone is staring."

"That's just 'cause you're pretty, Bug."

A few steps down, you could see JJ and Spencer stealing glances towards where you and Derek were standing. Your pleading eyes caught JJ's at one point, but the blonde woman only raised her thumbs up before the moving line made her disappear from view.

"You do know I'm still able to support myself on my own two feet, right?"

"Of course I do, Bug," Derek replied. "But why would you have to when I'm strong enough to carry you?"

Derek's answer made you groan in annoyance. A series of laughter from above compelled you to look up at the source, seeing two women whispering among themselves while openly pointing at your direction. You buried your face in the column of Derek's neck to escape their scrutiny, feeling the embarrassment traveled up your neck in a flaming red heat.

You were so never going to live this down.

[myvisioncare1]

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[eyedoctorwoodbridge]

EYE DOCTOR WOODBRIDGE VA

If you looking for an eye doctor Woodbridge va, Than You are at the right place to find eye doctor in woodbridge, My Vision Care PLLC.

The American Optometric association recommends an eye exam for adults in order to maintain eye health and early detection of visual problems. We “Focus on you” is not only our mission statement, it’s our trademark.

[silhouetteofacedar]

Fox Mulder, Closet Romantic Ch. 20: Nattduksbord

Previous Chapter - AO3 - MSR, rated E

This means something; Mulder can feel it.

This signifies a shift in their relationship; a step forward, from platonic partners to a romantic couple. It’s a shared experience that has the potential to change their dynamic forever. Years of trust, fighting together against a common enemy, seeking the truth… it could all come crashing down today, in a shopping mall in Woodbridge, Virginia.

They’re going to IKEA.

Summer is on the rise, and the humidity is close to stifling as they buckle into his car. Scully’s wearing a little striped t-shirt, capri pants, and sandals, revealing sky blue painted toes. For a disorienting moment Mulder wonders if he’s going to develop a foot fetish. Probably not, but Dana Scully could make even the most vanilla of men want to do crazy things.

“Do you have your shopping list?” Scully asks as he starts the car.

He pulls the folded scrap of paper out of the chest pocket of his white t-shirt. “Right here,” he replies, eyes darting over to her for one more look as he holds out the list.

She takes it, catching his eyes momentarily. “Why do you keep looking at me like that?” she asks.

I want to suck your toes. “You look nice today, that’s all.”

“Oh. Well, thank you.”

Scully can probably tell he’s desperate for her; she can read him like a dog-eared, yellowed paperback. He’s simultaneously grateful for her sharp instincts and embarrassed by his carnal desires. He hasn’t gotten laid in four years, and he fears he’ll be too eager when the time comes. As it is, he can barely believe she’s let him have even the smallest glimpses of her as a sexual being. She’s intoxicating, and he’s dizzy with the knowledge that this beautiful, brilliant, downright edible woman actually wants him. Him, a mortal man of aliens and bad ties and a porn collection that’s gradually becoming least seventy-five percent redheads. A man without a bed.

Hence their Saturday morning pilgrimage to the shrine where all new couples journey to find furnishings, low prices, and themselves.

“So, we’re looking for one tall bookshelf, a locking filing cabinet, a bed, and two night tables,” Scully reads. She refolds the paper and reaches across him to tuck it back into his shirt pocket. “That’s clearly not all going to fit in this car,” she notes.

“I’ll get the bigger stuff delivered,” he says.

It’s only a twenty minute drive from Mulder’s place, and they have the air-conditioning on. Mulder is starting to relax; it’s been a long time since he’s had a partner, in the domestic sense, and he’d forgotten that it makes the mundane more bearable.

Scully clears her throat almost imperceptibly. “I’m proud of you, by the way.”

“Really? Why?” Mulder asks.

“You managed to get rid of a lot of stuff,” she says, turning up the dial on the car’s air conditioner. “And organization is very clearly not your strong suit, so progress should be acknowledged and celebrated.”

“Yippee,” Mulder deadpans.

“You know, it’s odd; we’ve known each other for all these years and I never asked… why don’t you have a bed, Mulder?”

There it is, the question he knew would come up at some point. He clears his throat, grips the steering wheel a little tighter. “I, uh… I lived with someone, around ‘91. Another agent, actually. We were together for a while, and then one day she took some assignment in Europe and that was that. I got rid of everything that was hers, and that, uh, included the bed.” Technically our bed, he thinks. He winces. He’s never talked to Scully about Diana before, and he wonders if she’ll be upset that he was withholding such a large piece of personal information.

Scully is quiet. “I’m sorry,” she says softly. “That’s… I didn’t know.”

“I’m sorry I never mentioned it,” Mulder says. “It’s not like it’s some big painful secret. I just… don’t really think about her anymore.”

“It’s alright,” Scully says. “I think it’s best for these kinds of things to come up naturally. And… I was dating someone when we met,” Scully confesses. “We broke up as soon as I got back from Bellefleur.”

Mulder looks at her quickly. “Really? Why?”

She furrows her brow. “Multiple reasons, but primarily I realized that this job, my assignment, was bigger than I’d anticipated. And the things you and I went through together, the things I’d seen… when I was honest with myself, I didn’t want to be tied down to him. To have to go home and have this man ask me how my day was, as though he could ever understand even half of what we do.”

“So you chose the job over him,” Mulder muses.

“In essence… I chose you,” Scully points out. “Whether I knew it then or not. I’d never be able to turn my back on you.”

Mulder exhales slowly. He’s strangely moved.

“Take a left at the next light,” Scully prompts softly. “And yes, I do realize the irony in breaking things off with a man because of his normalcy, only to continue trying to date so-called ‘normal’ men.”

Mulder shrugs. “No, it makes sense. Maybe he just wasn’t right for you, but the next normal guy could be, right?”

“Right,” Scully sighs. “Einstein’s definition of insanity. Doing the same thing over and over again while expecting different results.”

“I’ve been led to believe that being with me is another type of insanity,” Mulder points out. “And objectively, I can’t disagree.”

“You do make me crazy,” Scully agrees, voice low. “But that’s not always a bad thing.” He feels her small hand squeeze his thigh. “And I fully intend to return the favor.”

Mulder lets out a quiet groan, hands sweaty on the steering wheel. “You planning on giving me some roadside assistance, Agent Scully? Because I’m gonna need it if you keep doing that.”

She removes her hand, tucks her hair behind her ear. “I didn’t do anything,” she says innocently.

“Uh huh.” He pulls into the IKEA parking lot. “Well, we’re here. You ready?”

“As ready as a person can be for a labyrinthian furniture store on a muggy Saturday,” she replies.

-

“This is fucking ridiculous,” Mulder says from his spot on the bedroom floor, surrounded by scattered pieces of a ‘HOLLEBY’ bedside table. “These instructions are useless and-” he flips through the booklet, “-thirty-two pages long, Jesus.”

Scully doesn’t respond; her eyes are glued to her own manual as she assembles a drawer from the second of the two nightstands. “Shh,” she hushes him softly. “I’m concentrating.”

“How have you managed to put any of these pieces together?” he asks, scooting across the floor to her. “There aren’t even words, just vague illustrations.”

She has a screw between her lips as she lines up two of the wood pieces. “I took wood shop in high school,” she says around the metal pin. She removes it and inserts it into a pre-drilled hole. “I guess that was some kind of preparation for assembling flatpack furniture?”

“That’s adorable,” Mulder says, rising to open a window. The room is stuffy with the day’s heat, and his t-shirt is glued to his back. “Do you still have any of the things you made in class?”

“The step stool in my kitchen,” she replies. “And my mom might have some things I’ve forgotten about.”

He casually strips off his sweaty t-shirt and tosses it in the laundry basket. “Remind me to look at that stool the next time we’re at your place,” he says. “Also I’m gonna order a pizza, you interested?”

Scully looks up at him then and is seemingly surprised by the absence of his shirt. “It’s hot in here,” Mulder explains, almost defensive.

“Oh, I’m not complaining,” Scully says, eyes shamelessly traveling his torso. “And I’m always interested.”

“Are we still talking about pizza here, or…”

“Make my half one with everything, please,” she says, attention returning to her project.

“Wait a minute,” he says, dropping to his knees next to her on the carpet. “I’m not done here.” He leans in and presses his mouth to the juncture of her neck and shoulder, tasting the salt on her skin. How she can still smell so good on a sticky June day, he doesn’t know; but he wants to lick her entire body.

“Mulder,” she sighs, putting down her screwdriver, “You’re distracting me.”

“That’s the idea,” he says, lips wandering up her neck and behind her ear. He flicks his tongue against her earlobe. “Forget the furniture, honey,” he says, all hot breath and lust. “We don’t need it for what I have in mind.”

Suddenly she’s facing him, looping her arms around his neck. “I’m doing this for you,” she purrs. “Do you think I like putting together IKEA furniture? No one likes it, Mulder. It’s like a multidimensional jigsaw puzzle.”

He pulls her onto his lap. “Oh, but I think you do,” he says, nibbling her ear. “You like being capable Doctor Scully, in charge of things… showing me what those hands can do.”

She leans in, licking his full lower lip. “Not everything is about you, Mulder,” she says, pressing a scorching kiss to his mouth. “I’m just doing my coworker a favor.”

“Is that what they call this nowadays?” he asks, hands clasping her hips as she grinds down on his lap.

She shuts him up with a kiss, the furniture and pizza forgotten.

[soufcakmistress]

Rekindle

Part VI

A/N: Okay, the next part is out and done! Shit is so real in the field right now and we’re getting close to the end of our story. I think we can all agree that Patrice deserves whatever she has coming for her, and the bitch has zero idea about what Erik was really about. I promise, the good times are coming and Y/N will have the last laugh! I don’t want to give any more away, but once again, thank yall for keeping up with this wild ride! Please let me know if you want to be tagged in the future!!

NeNe was awake and seemed to be okay except for a small cut near her hairline. However, she was completely terrified about your condition and was hysterical. Thankfully, the charge nurse got your information and was able to contact your next of kin to come as soon as possible. In the whirlwind of your divorce from Erik, you never made any changes about who would handle your affairs in the case of an emergency, so he was still your emergency contact. NeNe ended up getting a few stitches and was being calmed down by the children’s ER nurse, but she still wanted her parents at that very moment. Erik busted through the sliding doors of the ER floor, shaking and terrified of what he would encounter when he laid eyes on you and NeNe. When he received the call, he had barely been home for 20 minutes. His feet barely touched the floor running to the car to fly to the hospital  to make sure his child was okay and you as well. 

“Where’s my child?! Nneka Stevens!!! Where the hell is my child?!” 

Erik got to the nurse’s station with horror in his eyes, unnerved completely that his child could possibly be hurt or worse. “I know where your daughter is, Mr. Stevens, please, come follow me.”

The nurse led him to the ER bed where Nneka was resting, curtain closed around the area. “We checked her out and everything seems to be okay as of now. Thankfully, the booster seat and seatbelt kept her tucked in. She may have some minor back and neck pain tomorrow, which some children’s Advil can take care of.” NeNe was asleep, with a bandage across her forehead, sleeping soundly with a blanket covering her. To say that he was relieved was an understatement.

“Oh my God. NeNe? Baby? It’s Daddy. Wake up, baby.” He nudged his daughter gently as he caressed her forehead to keep her calm. She peeked open her eyes to gaze at her father and instantly burst into tears, eyes wide in terror. “Daddyyyyy, Mommy is hurt! Somebody hit us and kept hitting us until we hit a pole! I want Mommy, Daddy, please go get Mommy!!”

His chest was soaked due to her tears as he rubbed his baby’s back, kissing her head. Several silent prayers were sent up, thanking God and Bast that his daughter was okay. He hadn’t seen you yet and needed to find out the status of your condition. “Daddy is gonna find out what happened to Mommy, ok? I promise on my life, I will find out where she is, baby. Daddy is just so happy you’re okay. I need you to be a big girl and stay right here while Daddy talks to the doctor about Mommy, all right? Can you do that? Can you be a big girl and wait for me right here?”

With her big puppy dog eyes and tear streaked face, she nodded and laid back down. Erik asked the nurse if she could stay with her while he spoke to the doctor. The nurse showed him the right direction to the operating wing and was met with a doctor in scrubs with blood spattered on his torso. His stomach dropped at the sight of him. “Please...God please let her be alive...”

“Mr. Stevens? Are you Y/N’s husband?”

“Her ex-husband. We recently divorced, I’m Nneka’s father. I’m still her next of kin however. Is she okay? What happened?”

“I see. Very well then. Y/N has sustained a tear in her lung due to two broken ribs when the car impacted the pole. Blood was beginning to fill her lungs, thankfully, we were able to repair the tear and suction the blood. We do have her on a respirator until we feel confident about her breathing on her own. She also has several contusions on her chest and torso. We also found that Y/N.......was pregnant. She was about 13 weeks along........we were not able to save the pregnancy. Her torso was directly pinned under the steering wheel when the car flipped over and the impact stopped blood flow for too long. I truly am sorry to tell you this. Mr. Stevens....I need to make you aware of some....other concerning news....”

“Jesus Christ, doc! Goddamn it! What else could possibly be worse than this? Tell me!” 

“This may be alarming for you to hear, sir. I’m told that the accident.....most likely wasn’t an accident at all. It appears that it was a hit and run. You will need to confirm with the police first to know for sure, but per the EMS’ description of the scene.....it appeared that the car was charged at more than once. There were even skid marks on the concrete a few hundred feet back showing that the other car accelerated tremendously after the first hit. Detective Williams of Oakland PD is who you should contact. I’m deeply sorry about this. I’ll come back after we’ve wheeled Y/N into recovery and you’ll be able to see her.”

Erik felt like a ton of bricks just hit him.  Adam’s apple bobbing and eyes glassy, he thanks the doctor and finds a seat to attempt to compose himself before returning to NeNe. Anger radiating off his skin in waves, he felt things he hadn’t felt in years. He was JUST with you. How could this have happened? Who would want to hurt you this way? Oh God. You were pregnant. He KNEW something was up. It had to be his. The math only made sense. That hurt even more. Erik knew as soon as you were made aware of this, nothing but scorched earth would lie in your wake.

“No way. There’s no way. That bitch ain’t that crazy. There’s no way in hell.” Could it have been Patrice? Was that bitch really that diabolical? What did she think would happen? Some freak accident happened to you and she would swoop in to just...nah. He needed to do his own investigation. Crossing every T and dotting every I was crucial before he could go there. First thing in the morning, he would be paying a visit to Oakland PD. Whoever did this......had no idea who they were truly fuckin with. Not long after he joined NeNe back in the ER, did the recovery nurse summon him to your room. Heavy shuddering breaths escaped him as his feet finally moved to follow down the hall to the room where you’d be spending the rest of your recovery until you were deemed fit to leave the hospital. Once he gazed upon you, his stomach tightened and his fists balled up so tightly, his nails were starting to cut into his skin. “Mr. Stevens, she will be out for a while. She’s still in substantial pain, so we did sedate her. The respirator will do most of the work to get her lung back strong. Please let me know if you have any questions. I’ll leave you alone now.”

“Thank you, ma’am.” Erik gulped audibly and slowly moved closer to your bed. Seeing you eyes shut tight with the respiratory tube down your throat, tiny cuts on your face from the shattered glass......your chest had purple bruises splotched everywhere. The dam broke, and Erik’s tears flowed freely. He pulled a chair up and sat down and reached out and laid his hand on your body gently. “I’m......I’m so sorry Y/N. I swear on my life that I will find out who did this. I swear to you that they will pay in blood for what they did to you. Just don’t give up baby. Don’t give up, Y/N. You’re strong. You’re the strongest woman I know. I failed you, I didn’t keep you and our baby safe. I’m gonna kill em, if it’s the last thing I ever do. Baby, please. NeNe needs her mommy. I need you. Don’t leave us...” He cried softly until his tears ran dry and the white hot rage flared through his body at the realization of his new mission. Erik wiped his eyes and nose, composing himself and he stood up, and kissed you softly on your forehead, letting his lips linger. “I love you more than life itself. I’ll be back, Y/N.”

NeNe was cleared to leave the hospital by the ER doctor on call and Erik took his baby home swiftly; he would be calling her school first thing to let them know of her absence tomorrow to let her rest and keep her close. Reaching out to Lisa, updating her on your condition, she quickly agreed to watch NeNe in the morning so that he could visit the station and scour that place with a fine toothed comb. Firing off texts to T’Challa notifying him of the incident, he’ll get the ball rolling and have some leads for him by morning time.

Sleep never came for Erik that night. Contemplating and calculating any and every type of scenario as to how this transpired plagued his mind. How did they know where you were at that exact time? Did they follow from the recital? Or from the arcade? How did they know your car? What was the endgame? Who would benefit more from having you out of the picture?Nothing made sense. Or maybe he didn’t want to believe that Patrice was capable of such a thing. Shit. Being a family man and having a regular day job really tamed him and his instincts. He let his guard down and now the most important people in his life suffered. Killmonger needed to be resurrected. 

Erik looked in on NeNe as she slept, and tip toed to the extra bedroom in his apartment and shut the door. He went under the bed and pulled out a massive chest that was padlocked; unlocking the chest, his nostrils flared and he gritted his teeth at the contents inside. Several bed rolls of different sized knives, scalpels, forceps, a bone saw, a large tarp, multiple hand guns, and a few automatic and semi automatic weapons. Pandora’s box had quite literally been opened again. 

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[edenoptix-blog]

Eden Optix

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[newstfionline]

Thursday, December 31, 2020

Covid-19 ‘not necessarily the big one,’ WHO warns (Washington Post) The coronavirus pandemic might not be the “big one” that experts have long feared, World Health Organization emergencies chief Mike Ryan warned at the global health agency’s last virtual media briefing of the year. Since the first reports of the coronavirus began circulating nearly a year ago, the WHO has repeatedly warned that the world must prepare for even deadlier pandemics in the future. “This pandemic has been very severe,” he said Monday. “It has affected every corner of this planet. But this is not necessarily the big one.” The coronavirus, he said, should serve as a “wake-up call.” “These threats will continue,” he said. “One thing we need to take from this pandemic, with all of the tragedy and loss, is we need to get our act together.”

American youth too flabby to defend nation, retired generals say (Washington Times) A group of retired military leaders is warning the Pentagon that most of America’s youth is too out of shape to defend the nation. The organization, known as “Mission Readiness” wants the Pentagon to help set up an interagency committee to address what it considers the nation’s military recruiting crisis. They recently sent a letter to acting Secretary of Defense Christopher Miller, urging him to work with heads of other relevant federal departments and agencies to take a “holistic approach” to addressing issues ultimately impacting the ability of the military to recruit personnel. According to the Department of Defense, 71 percent of young Americans are unable to serve in uniform, largely due to obesity, drug abuse, a poor education or a crime record. “These factors largely fall outside of the Department of Defense’s purview but have an immense impact on the ability of the military to recruit new service members as well as a significant monetary impact on the Department,” of Defense, retired Air Force Gen. William M. Fraser and retired Coast Guard Adm. James M. Loy wrote in their letter.

Pandemic feeds demand for backyard chickens (AP) The coronavirus pandemic is coming home to roost in America’s backyards. Forced to hunker down at home, more people are setting up coops and raising their own chickens, which provide an earthy hobby, animal companionship and a steady supply of fresh eggs. Amateur chicken-keeping has been growing in popularity in recent years as people seek environmental sustainability in the food they eat. The pandemic is accelerating those trends, some breeders and poultry groups say, prompting more people to make the leap into poultry parenthood. Businesses that sell chicks, coops and other supplies say they have seen a surge in demand since the pandemic took hold in March and health officials ordered residents to stay home.

Another Arrest, and Jail Time, Due to a Bad Facial Recognition Match (NYT) In February 2019, Nijeer Parks was accused of shoplifting candy and trying to hit a police officer with a car at a Hampton Inn in Woodbridge, N.J. The police had identified him using facial recognition software, even though he was 30 miles away at the time of the incident. Mr. Parks spent 10 days in jail and paid around $5,000 to defend himself. In November 2019, the case was dismissed for lack of evidence. Mr. Parks, 33, is the third person known to be falsely arrested based on a bad facial recognition match. In all three cases, the people mistakenly identified by the technology have been Black men. Two other Black men—Robert Williams and Michael Oliver, who both live in the Detroit area—were also arrested for crimes they did not commit based on bad facial recognition matches. Nathan Freed Wessler, an attorney with the American Civil Liberties Union who believes that the police should stop using face recognition technology, said that “Multiple people have now come forward about being wrongfully arrested because of this flawed and privacy-invading surveillance technology.”

Pompeo Weighs Plan to Place Cuba on U.S. Terrorism Sponsor List (NYT) State Department officials have drawn up a proposal to designate Cuba as a state sponsor of terrorism, a final-hour foreign policy move that would complicate plans by the incoming Biden administration to relax increased American pressure on Havana. With three weeks left until Inauguration Day, Secretary of State Mike Pompeo must decide whether to sign off on the plan, according to two U.S. officials, a move that would also serve as a thank-you to Cuban-Americans and other anti-communist Latinos in Florida who strongly supported President Trump and his fellow Republicans in the November election. It is unclear whether Mr. Pompeo has decided to move ahead with the designation. But Democrats and foreign policy experts believe that Mr. Trump and his senior officials are eager to find ways of constraining President-elect Joseph R. Biden Jr.’s initial months in office and to make it more difficult for Mr. Biden to reverse Trump-era policies abroad. In recent weeks, Trump officials have also sought to increase American pressure and sanctions on China and Iran. A finding that a country has “repeatedly provided support for acts of international terrorism,” in the State Department’s official description of a state sponsor of terrorism, automatically triggers U.S. sanctions against its government. If added to the list, Cuba would join just three other nations: Iran, North Korea and Syria.

British lawmakers approve post-Brexit trade deal with EU (AP) Britain’s House of Commons voted resoundingly on Wednesday to approve a trade deal with the European Union, paving the way for an orderly break with the bloc that will finally complete the U.K.’s long and divisive Brexit journey. With just a day to spare, lawmakers voted 521-73 in favor of the agreement sealed between the U.K. government and the EU last week. Brexit enthusiasts in Parliament praised it as a reclamation of independence from the bloc. Pro-Europeans lamented its failure to preserve seamless trade with Britain’s biggest economic partner. But the vast majority in the divided Commons agreed that it was better than the alternative of a chaotic rupture with the EU. The deal later received formal royal assent from Queen Elizabeth II. It has been 4 1/2 years since Britain voted 52% to 48% to leave the bloc it had joined in 1973. Brexit started on Jan. 31 of this year, but the real repercussions of that decision have yet to be felt, since the U.K.’s economic relationship with the EU remained unchanged during the 11-month transition period that ends Dec. 31.

As U.K. coronavirus cases hit record high, health-care workers are overwhelmed (Washington Post) Doctors and nurses across Britain are sounding the alarm as confirmed cases of covid-19 reach record highs, with experts urging the government to implement a stricter lockdown to prevent the health system from being overwhelmed. Simon Stevens, chief executive of the National Health Service (NHS) in England, told reporters on Tuesday that hospitals were “back in the eye of the storm” as new cases surged across Europe and Britain. He said more must be done to ease the burden on health-care workers. Some health-care workers are issuing their own public warnings, detailing how hospitals in London and the southeast of England are already setting up tents to increase their capacity. They say ambulances are waiting outside hospitals for hours because there is no space inside. Government figures suggest that the virus is surging in Britain, despite restrictions already in place in most of the country. On Tuesday, 53,135 confirmed cases were reported across Britain, marking the second record day in a row and a number far higher than any single day increase in the first wave.

Germany set for longer lockdown as death figures spike (AP) German officials made clear Wednesday that they won’t be able to relax lockdown restrictions in early January as the country recorded more than 1,000 deaths in one day for the first time. That figure was likely swollen by delayed reporting but underlined the severity of the situation. Germany, the European Union’s most populous country, shut restaurants, bars, sports and leisure facilities on Nov. 2. That partial shutdown halted a fast increase in new infections for a while but failed to bring them down, prompting authorities to impose a fuller lockdown from Dec. 16, shutting nonessential shops and schools. Those measures run through Jan. 10. Chancellor Angela Merkel and the governors of Germany’s 16 states will consult Tuesday on how to proceed.

Quake aftershocks keep people out of homes in Croatia (AP) A series of aftershocks jolted central Croatia Wednesday, a day after a 6.3-magnitude earthquake killed at least seven people, injured dozens and left several towns and villages in ruins. The strongest, 4.7-magnitude tremor was recorded early Wednesday near the heavily damaged town of Petrinja, some 40 kilometers (25 miles) southeast of the Croatian capital, Zagreb. Many people had spent the night in tents, their cars or military barracks. In the hard-hit village of Majske Poljane, where five people died in the earthquake, a little boy could be seen sleeping inside a van, wearing a cap on a chilly December morning.

Schools in India have been closed since March. The costs to children are mounting. (Washington Post) Out in the fields, the adults were chopping towering stalks of sugar cane, but Mamta Jaysinge did what she could. The 12-year-old gathered the woody stems where they fell and tied them into a bundle almost as tall as she was. Then she lifted it onto her head and carried it to a waiting truck. Any other year, Jaysinge would be studying in the modest school near her village in western India. It closed in March. Now she spends her days fetching water, cooking meals and hauling cane. Online learning is out of the question. “We were struggling to eat,” Jaysinge said, “so how would we manage to get a smartphone?” She misses school and hopes to return as soon as it reopens. Until then, she said, “I’m trying to help my parents in whatever way I can.” Jaysinge is one of tens of millions of Indian children who have not seen the inside of a classroom since March, a hiatus that educators say is without precedent in the country’s history. In major metropolises such as Mumbai and Delhi, schools remain shut for the ninth straight month. While some states have reopened high schools, the majority of India’s 320 million students remain at home as part of the effort to fight the coronavirus pandemic. Students from poor and marginalized communities face enormous hurdles to continuing their education even in normal times. Now many of their families are under severe financial stress as India’s economy contracts.

China clamps down in hidden hunt for coronavirus origins (AP) Deep in the lush mountain valleys of southern China lies the entrance to a mine shaft that once harbored bats with the closest known relative of the COVID-19 virus. The area is of intense scientific interest because it may hold clues to the origins of the coronavirus that has killed more than 1.7 million people worldwide. Yet for scientists and journalists, it has become a black hole of no information because of political sensitivity and secrecy. A bat research team visiting recently managed to take samples but had them confiscated, two people familiar with the matter said. Specialists in coronaviruses have been ordered not to speak to the press. And a team of Associated Press journalists was tailed by plainclothes police in multiple cars who blocked access to roads and sites in late November. More than a year since the first known person was infected with the coronavirus, an AP investigation shows the Chinese government is strictly controlling all research into its origins, clamping down on some while actively promoting theories that it could have come from outside China. The government is handing out hundreds of thousands of dollars in grants to scientists researching the virus’ origins in southern China and affiliated with the military, the AP has found. But it is monitoring their findings and mandating that the publication of any data or research must be approved by a new task force managed by China’s cabinet, under direct orders from President Xi Jinping, according to internal documents obtained by The AP. A rare leak from within the government, the dozens of pages of unpublished documents confirm what many have long suspected: The clampdown comes from the top.

US bomber mission over Persian Gulf aimed at cautioning Iran (AP) The United States flew strategic bombers over the Persian Gulf on Wednesday for the second time this month, a show of force meant to deter Iran from attacking American or allied targets in the Middle East. One senior U.S. military officer said the flight by two Air Force B-52 bombers was in response to signals that Iran may be planning attacks against U.S. allied targets in neighboring Iraq or elsewhere in the region in the coming days, even as President-elect Joe Biden prepares to take office.

Explosions rock Aden airport, killing at least 22, as new Yemen government arrives (Washington Post) Blasts rocked the airport in the Yemeni city of Aden on Wednesday, killing at least 22 people and injuring 58, shortly after members of a newly created unity government arrived. The death toll is expected to rise, as 36 victims remain in serious condition with wounds requiring major surgeries, said Ali Abdullah Saleh, director of Aden’s health office. He said the injured were taken to several hospitals in the southern coastal city. The assault, for which no group immediately claimed responsibility, threatens to ignite more turmoil in the Middle East nation already reeling from war and hunger. It was launched after the Yemeni government forged a political alliance with southern separatists, ending months of feuding that threatened to plunge the country into more conflicts and chaos.

[passportrequired]

Blood Clots & Traveling: Staying Alive While Living

Every March, I fly to Charlottesville, Virginia to see Dr. Mann, my hematologist, in the Emily Couric Cancer Center because she wants to make sure I’m fine. Because I tell her everything that’s happening in my life, her first question is always about some ridiculous thing she knows I’d do between seeing her. This year, her question was, “Are you still diving off cliffs in the middle of the ocean?” “Not this year. Not yet.” Then we begin the examination.

It was September 2004 and me, Dennis, and Eddie were at a downtown Daytona Beach club, drinking whatever was cheap, and listening to that squeaky box spring intro on “Some Cut” by Trillville, eyeing the room to see whose daughters we’d creep up on in some college boy club grinding motion. Strobe lights were bouncing off the mirror in the not-so-dark club, hiked skirts were being shifted down, hands were mixing with the liquors spilled on the floor, and everyone’s guard was down, vibing with the music. Some even had their eyes closed and I wondered what they were thinking. “On my mama!” one man screamed out, much louder than the song. Without thought, everyone scattered. We knew what always came after that southern war cry. We found out weeks later that bullets hit the ceiling, a few columns and the walls. I made it as far at the curb just outside the entrance before I could no longer breathe. “Y’all keep running,” I told Eddie and Dennis. “I’m so out of shape.” They stayed with me until I could breathe and we walked swiftly to the car. No one died that night.

I flew home to Woodbridge two days later. Walking through the airport, I stopped several times, cursing my lack of cardio in the past. Shauna, my son’s mother, was 8 months pregnant at the time and we lived in a 3rd floor unit. I could barely make it up the stairs. Two weeks passed and in the shower, I couldn’t breathe and thought I was having a panic attack. I stepped out and laid on the floor, naked, thinking, “this is now how I thought I would die. At least let me put my clothes on.” The following day I woke up unable to walk without pain in my groin and blamed it on a possible muscle pull from running during the gunfire. Shauna told me I’d have to go to the doctor the next day if it was worse. I woke up, put my feet on the floor and collapsed. The pain was unbelievable. Cameron picked us up and we went to the hospital.

After telling the doctor why I believed I had pulled a groin, she nodded slowly and said, “Well, we’ll see soon.” She patted my hand as if to say, “this is definitely not a groin pull,” and left me on that cheap gurney in the room with the two people I came with. Always one for jokes, I kept the mood light, and made Shauna promise not to call my very motherly mother, who I knew would jump in the car and make the two-hour drive to Woodbridge. With a half-cocked smile and right-tilted head – the kind that’s always titled to provide an extra cushion of bad news or comfort – she asks, “how long have you been short of breath?” I told her it had been a couple weeks, but it only happened when I was “doing too much.” She said, “You probably should have been dead two weeks ago. You have three clots in your lungs and 13 in your leg, from your ankle to your groin.” Shauna called my mom. Cameron, in true fashion, said “damn,” and I sat there, waiting to find out what it all meant.

They kept me for eight days in that hospital. After release, I spent three weeks trying every pain medication a human could handle until finding that only fentanyl while sitting in a tub of hot water worked. Once the pain was relieved a little, I had to straighten out my leg because the clot behind my knee left me looking like a flamingo. The fourth week found me limping for a few seconds before having to sit to avoid extreme pain. November 22, 2004, I woke up determined to push myself to the limits. I did. I walked down the stairs, around the stores, to the mailbox, and all through the house. Around midnight, I walked into the bathroom and found Shauna on the floor, in labor. I still tell the story about Cameron pushing both of us into the hospital in wheelchairs.

That was the beginning of my blood clot journey due to a protein S deficiency.

I’ve gone through the medications and to the appointments. I hated so much of it, especially having to go in weekly for almost a year to make sure my blood was as thin as it needed to be. Dietary restrictions for a foodie like me are murder. What killed me most was when the doctor told me I wouldn’t be able to travel as much as I wanted because sitting for long periods of time in a cramped space can absolutely cause clotting. “The longer the flight, the more at risk you become.” I remember sitting in a doctor’s office just days before a trip to Hong Kong and listening to him say, “if you get on that plane, you will die.” Like Rachel Green, I canceled my flight.

Traveling, exploring, adventuring, truly living are true passions of mine and the universe decided to throw a wrench. I caught it. It was 2012. I sat my doctors down and demanded that they help me find a way to live the life I want. They were hesitant in the beginning, saying things like, “I think you just have to do less of a lot.” After our apparent standoff, which consisted of me being foolishly defiant, they agreed we could exhaust the possibilities in finding what would work.

I’ve taken almost all the pills someone with my condition would take; Coumadin, Eliquis, Lovenox, Pradaxa, and during the hospital stays, Heparin. Some worked better than others, and one not at all. Mostly, they kept me alive, but they each came with things I didn’t want such as frequent doctor visits, restrictions that would be impossible for me to adhere to. After Eliquis gave me my first experience with anxiety and had me hiding under the covers at home, I called the doctor and told them I could no longer take them. I was traveling through Guatemala and had no other options with me. I developed a pulmonary embolism on that trip, and when I returned to the states, I booked a flight to get to the Charlottesville to have a thorough check. I arrived unable to walk with a straight gait, and they found 16 clots, some new, some old, and some sketchy. This was 2016. This was maybe the 15th time I’ve been hospitalized for a clot. This was the first time they suggested surgery. The pain said “yes.”

I moved to South Africa shortly after surgery, against every doctor’s wish. “How will we monitor you,” they asked. “Do you know any doctors over there?” They only ease I could offer was promising to never miss an appointment, and I didn’t. “You’re young, you’re active, and you’re pretty healthy other than these clots. There’s a medicine I think will work great for you,” my nurse practitioner said. And with that, they sent me on my way with Xarelto.

And here we are in 2019 with once-a-year visits with random phone calls in between, a dope collection of compression socks thanks to friends who know both the struggle and my love for conversation starting socks, and hundreds of thousands of air miles at my disposal. My relationship with my health team is great, and we’re at the point where we can laugh when I answer her “what have you been doing” with “last week, I was in Pamplona running with the bulls.”

We found a way to keep me alive while I’m living. There’s so much more to do, see, taste, and experience. The Inca Trail waits for me like a German Shepherd for his best friend. There’s a cliff in Amoudi Bay, Greece I haven’t yet climbed and there are the waters just below into which I haven’t jumped. So much living to do.

Funny enough, I sat out to write a few tips on how to keep your blood and legs and body in a good space while traveling, and it turned into a story I haven’t shared often and possibly even an ad for Xarelto.

Since you’re here, here are a few tips to keep your blood flowing while traveling:

1. Get you an amazing collection of compression socks and compression tights even. The basketball players are always in what looks like compression tights and I’ve been trying to convince myself to buy a pair. One day soon!

2. When flying, get up every 1 – 2 hours and walk the aisles to get your blood flowing. Stretch your legs a bit.

3. Elevate your legs when you reach your destination and while you sleep. I put mine on the wall.

4. If you’re at risk for blood clots, talk to your doctor prior to traveling. These factors increase the risk: a. Varicose veins b. Pregnancy and the postpartum period c. Hormone Replacement Therapy d. Obesity e. Age 40+ f. Use of contraceptives containing estrogen g. Active cancer and recent cancer treatment

Stay healthy, my friends.

Blood Clots & Traveling: Staying Alive While Living was originally published on Passport Required

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[flowers-are-noice]

How cannabis can be healthy

Florida Branch of Wellbeing records rules for new medicinal maryjane law

Florida wellbeing authorities have declared new statewide medicinal pot rules.

Entryway Instruments reports Monday that the recently renamed Office of Therapeutic Maryjane Use at the Florida Branch of Wellbeing distributed its Notice of Appropriation to do enactment go amid the 2017 unique session.

The crisis rulemaking process was approved under SB 8A, which looked to execute the established alteration gone in 2014, and exponentially develop Florida's restorative pot showcase past what was initially affirmed.

"This will empower the office to rapidly actualize the time-delicate necessities of the enactment," representative Mara Gambineri said in an email Monday. "Following crisis rulemaking, the Office is focused on working cooperatively with people in general through conventional rulemaking to set up a patient-focused restorative weed program."

Rivals, similar to state Sen. Jeff Brandes, said the bill made a directed "state-authorized cartel."

SB 8A enables therapeutic cannabis to be utilized for the treatment of extra ailments, including HIV and Helps, glaucoma, post-horrendous anxiety issue, ALS, Crohn's illness, Parkinson's ailment, various sclerosis and comparative conditions.

Bills gone in 2014 and 2016 constrained the conditions to epilepsy, interminable muscle fits, tumor and terminal conditions.

The 2017 law bans smoking medicinal pot however allows vaping, edibles, oils, showers and tinctures. Orlando lawyer and Popularity based dissident John Morgan, who was behind the protected alteration permitting restorative pot, contends that smoking was a piece of his change. Morgan intends to sue the state.

Extended therapeutic weed charge progresses toward becoming law

In an uncommon authoritative session June 23, Gov. Rick Scott affirmed a bill that viably puts without hesitation a state protected change favoring therapeutic cannabis gone by voters in 2016. The measure extends the rundown of crippling conditions that could make patients qualified to get weed as a medicinal treatment. It likewise expands the quantity of endorsed maryjane dispensaries over the state from seven to 17.

The bill, which progressed toward becoming law Saturday, sets down the system for how patients can utilize and get to weed that 71 percent of voters endorsed in the Alteration 2 submission a year ago.

Under the enactment, Florida occupants who can be endorsed cannabis incorporate those with tumor, epilepsy, glaucoma, ALS, Chrohn's disesase, PTSD, various sclerosis, Parkinson's ailment and HIV/Helps. That is notwithstanding at death's door patients who, since 2014, had been permitted by Florida law to utilize therapeutic weed on the recomendation of a specialist.

As per Mara Gambineri, a representative with the Florida Branch of Wellbeing, "Utilizing different states who have medicinal maryjane as a source of perspective, we appraise 1.5 to 2.5 percent reception among the (Florida) populace."

The medication — either low-THC (non-euphoric) pot or full-quality cannabis — must be expended in oil or palatable frame.

As indicated by the state Branch of Wellbeing, seven specialists in St. Johns Area have experienced the preparation and testing required to assess patients for the utilization of therapeutic pot. The doctors incorporate an eye specialist, an internist, a family specialist and an orthopedic pro. The specialists can analyze patients and decide whether medicinal weed is a suitable treatment yet can't apportion the medication itself.

Patients will be permitted a three 70-day supply before being reconsidered by a doctor for another medicine. Specialists input orders into the Restorative Maryjane Utilize Registry. Patients at that point go to a dispensary to take care of those requests.

Right now, there are only seven organizations in Florida that are authorized to develop and disseminate medicinal cannabis, however the new law will convey that number up to 17. Starting at now, none of the confirmed dispensaries are in St. Johns District. Cultivators must apply for thought, and the state will favor the extended rundown of organizations by October. Five of the producers that connected in 2015 and were not chosen will be among those authorized.

John Morgan, the Orlando-based lawyer who has for some time been a backer of restorative cannabis, is pushing for qualified patients to have the capacity to smoke maryjane. Up until this point, breathing in the plant has not been affirmed by administrators. Morgan has undermined to sue the state over the smoking boycott.

Why therapeutic maryjane shops in Dad. won't smell

Stroll into a therapeutic maryjane dispensary in New Jersey and the principal thing to hit you is the stink.

Weed's fragrance is an acrid impact that appears to stink of citrus, diesel, and skunk. At the Garden State Dispensary in Woodbridge, Middlesex Province, charcoal air purifiers — encased in glimmering steel and bigger than fly motors — are deliberately set through the office. It's difficult to state whether their nearness tempers the smell, which is produced by a huge number of cannabis plants developing under lights in a similar building.

In Pennsylvania, patients going by a dispensary won't notice a thing. Cannabis retail facades in the Cornerstone State will be as sanitizingly scented as a specialist's office. That is on the grounds that smokable plant items — dried weed — won't be available to be purchased and no weed will be developed on the premises. Dispensaries will offer just fixed oils, tinctures, pills, salves and vapor cartridges.

In New Jersey, dispensaries must develop their own particular weed in bordering stockrooms. That makes the few Garden State cannabis edifices more fragrant and difficult to miss.

Garden State Dispensary on U.S. 1 in Woodbridge, N.J. Inside, patients can pick from twelve strains of therapeutic cannabis developed in a bordering distribution center. ED HILLE/Staff Picture taker

In Pennsylvania, dispensaries will work in littler, uninspiring structures. Every business can purchase its medicine from any of 12 state-allowed cultivator processors. On the off chance that the program isn't wrecked by claims, deals will start after Jan. 1, 2018.

It will be troublesome for bystanders to tell what is sold at a Pennsylvania customer facing facade. Signs will demonstrate there's some kind of medicinal services being given inside, however there won't be a splendid neon green cannabis leaf promoting its nearness. The quantity of observation cameras on the doorways might be the main confirmation there's something important available to be purchased.

"In the event that you comprehend what to search for, you'll know there's a dispensary there," said Patrick Songbird, a previous Allegheny Province prosecutor who is currently in private practice and who heads the Pennsylvania Therapeutic Cannabis Society. "In any case, on the off chance that you don't, you're probably not going to see it."

Pennsylvania a week ago conceded licenses to 27 organizations to open dispensaries all through the district. The state Bureau of Wellbeing on Thursday reported the names of the victors and the areas of 52 proposed customer facing facades.

Fifteen dispensaries are slated for Philadelphia and its rural areas. Six are to open in Montgomery Province, three in Bucks Region, and two each in Chester and Delaware Areas. Four will open inside the city, incorporating one in East Mount Breezy, two in Upper east Philadelphia, and another in Fishtown close to the SugarHouse Gambling club.

Marcus Roundtree, a development specialist, at work staking cannabis plants in one of Garden Express Dispensary's develop rooms.

"The state is making an awesome showing with regards to, keeping up the pace and meeting due dates," said Becky Dansky, a lawyer with the Pot Strategy Venture, a charitable attempting to end cannabis denial. "It's additionally making a decent showing with regards to protecting itself from the presence of mistake."

The contrasts between the two state projects will reach out far past the schnoz. First off, the Pennsylvania law is intended to get drug to patients with more noteworthy speed than New Jersey's rollout.

The New Jersey cannabis charge was passed in 2010. However the Garden State still has just six working dispensaries and has joined just 11,600 patients.

Aaron J. Epstein, general chief of the Garden State Dispensary in Woodbridge, N.J., remains in the room where several maryjane plants are dried before being trimmed. ED HILLE/Staff Picture taker

The New Jersey program has been scrutinized for having "madly high" costs, Dansky stated, with cost per ounce extending from $425 to $520, as per a state investigation. Gotten some information about the cost of cannabis at Garden State Dispensary, general supervisor Aaron J. Epstein said he would tell just patients the amount it would cost.

Costs in Pennsylvania will probably be as steep. Furthermore, conceivably higher. That is on account of the way toward transforming medicinal weed into oils and vape pen cartridges will add expenses to creation. The cost of a solitary vape cartridge can reach $90 in a few expresses; a few patients may require one a day. The state, be that as it may, is focused on keeping the items reasonable and can put a value top on restorative weed items for up to six months in the event that they get excessively costly, said wellbeing office representative April Hutcheson. The state additionally will make a store to finance patients confronting money related hardship.

William Howard trims the dried weed buds at Garden State Dispensary. ED HILLE/Staff Picture taker

Among different contrasts:

Pennsylvania's law covers a bigger number of sicknesses than New Jersey's, possibly expanding the quantity of patients who can take an interest. Pennsylvania's qualifying conditions incorporate a mental imbalance, epilepsy, Parkinson's sickness, post-awful anxiety issue, sickle cell paleness, Huntington's ailment, and neuropathic torment. Both states incorporate growth, HIV/Helps, ALS, glaucoma, various sclerosis, fiery gut malady, Crohn's sickness, recalcitrant spasticity, and terminal disease.

Pennsylvania's program will command consistent, free cannabis testing to guarantee immaculateness and poten.

[nightingveilxo]

Anyone in Sherlock Started in ASiP: Damp, Death, and Fake

ASiP

Sherlock: —really not looking for anyone—

John: No. I'm not asking— no. I was just saying. Its all fine.

Sherlock: Good. Thank you.

TGG

Mrs. Hudson: I can’t get anyone interested in this flat. It’s the damp, I expect. That’s the curse of basements. (So right out the gate, we have the word Anyone associated with damp, darkness, and places a person wouldn’t want to be.)

Lestrade: But what was the point? Why would anyone do this? Sherlock: Oh – I can’t be the only person in the world that gets bored.

Young Man: Why does anyone do anything? Because I’m bored. We were made for each other, Sherlock.

(Which then becomes associated with Moriarty and boredom.)

Sherlock: Alex Woodbridge. Tonight they unveil the re-discovered masterpiece. Now why would anyone want to pay the Golem to suffocate a perfectly ordinary gallery attendant? Inference: the dead man knew something about it – something that would stop the owner getting paid thirty million pounds. The picture’s a fake. (So now, anyone is associated with death and things being fake.)

First, you must understand that John does not think of Sherlock as a machine, and that we have hints in TBB of what will happen in TRF, TLD, and TFP. ( x )

TRF

TWO MONTHS LATER. (After Moriarty has been released.) John goes to a NatWest cashpoint machine and inserts his card. Typing in his PIN, he then selects a transaction. After a few seconds he is greeted with the onscreen message:  There is a problem with your card Please wait (John grimaces and a second later a new message appears: Thank you for your patience. A moment later the message adds: John John frowns and behind him a black car pulls up to the kerb and stops. John turns and looks at it, then turns back to the ATM, sighing in exasperation. However, he still hasn’t learned his lesson about getting into strange cars and apparently meekly gets in and allows himself to be driven to an elegant white painted building which has a brass plaque outside declaring the venue to be THE DIOGENES CLUB. He goes inside and enters a large room which – back when the building used to be a house – was probably a drawing room. A large marble fireplace surrounds an unlit fire and the walls have heavy wooden panelling and ornate white plaster coving. The room contains five small round tables, each with a single armchair beside it, and four of the chairs are currently occupied by smartly dressed middle aged or elderly gentlemen reading newspapers and taking no notice of each other or of the new arrival. John looks around and then walks over to one of the older men sitting at the far end of the room.) JOHN: Er, excuse me. Um, I’m looking for Mycroft Holmes. (The old man’s face becomes appalled but he doesn’t look up.) JOHN: Would you happen to know if he’s around at all? (Some of the other inhabitants of the room behind John look round at him but don’t speak.) JOHN: Can you not hear me? (The old man looks up at him, huffing indignantly. John holds out a placatory hand to him.) JOHN: Yes, all right. (He turns around to the others in the room.) JOHN: Anyone? (The others turn their faces away from him.) JOHN: Anyone at all know where Mycroft Holmes is? I’ve been asked to meet him here. (The old man lifts his walking stick and pushes the end of it repeatedly onto a button on the nearby wall. A distant bell rings. John looks around in confusion while the gentlemen either ignore him or look at him in annoyance.) JOHN: No takers? Right. (He raises his voice.) Am I invisible? Can you actually see me? (Just then two men wearing dress coats walk into the room. John turns to them.) JOHN: Ah, thanks, gents. (Behind him, the elderly gentleman flaps his hand frantically at the new arrivals as if to say, ‘Get him out of here!’ The dress coated men, wearing white gloves and soft white overshoes to muffle their footsteps, walk briskly over to John.) JOHN: I’ve been asked to meet Mycroft Holm... (He breaks off as the men walk either side of him and firmly seize his arms.) JOHN: What the ...? Hey!

Remember how Mycroft disappears in TFP, and we later find out he’s fine, but John is made to suffer? Yes...because John has been playing by the rules, trying to do as tradition dictates, but sometimes he doesn’t know the rules by which things work. Keep that in mind for later...

More under the cut...

T6T

SHERLOCK: That’s not what happened at all.  (He takes another bite of biscuit.) MYCROFT: It is now. LADY SMALLWOOD: Remarkable.  How did you do it? SIR EDWIN: We have some very talented people working here.  If James Moriarty can hack every TV screen in the land, rest assured we have the tech to, er ... doctor a bit of security footage.   (He points towards the screen.  As he continues talking, Sherlock tosses a piece of biscuit towards his open mouth.  It misses and falls down the side of his lap.  He scrabbles to recover it.)   SIR EDWIN: That is now the official version; the version anyone we want to will see.

LESTRADE: Mr and Mrs Welsborough, this is Mr Sherlock Holmes. DAVID: Thank you very much for coming.  We’ve heard a great deal about you.   If anyone can throw any light into this darkness, surely it will be you. SHERLOCK: Well, I believe that I ... (He glances to his right and trails off when something catches his attention.) SHERLOCK (slowly): ... can.

MARY: Oh, what do you think, Sherlock?  Shall we take him with us? SHERLOCK: John or the dog? JOHN: Ha-ha, that’s funny. MARY (to Sherlock): John. SHERLOCK (mock-thoughtfully): Well ... MARY: He’s handy and loyal. JOHN: That’s hilarious. SHERLOCK: Mm. JOHN (not seriously): Is it too early for a divorce? (Not sure if anyone know if he’s joking.) MARY: Aww!  (Smiling, she points to herself.) SHERLOCK: Barnicot’s house, then.  Anyone up for a trudge? (He turns and walks away with Toby, who barks enthusiastically.) SHERLOCK: Keep up.  He’s fast. (If Toby is John, he’s fast, and he gets faster in his deductions as the season progresses. John is looking pretty smart these days, post TAB, so still smarter than he looks?)

LESTRADE (offscreen, over loudhailer): Come out slowly.  I wanna see your hands above your head. (The man turns his head and yells out.) THE INTRUDER: Nobody shoots me!  Anyone shoots, I kill this man! (We still don’t know how Lestrade knows Ajay’s name, unless he’s a stand-in for Sherlock’s time in Serbia. x )

SHERLOCK: Who employed you? MARY: Anyone who paid well.  I mean, we were at the top of our game for years, and then it all ended.  There was a coup in Georgia.  The British embassy in Tbilisi was taken over; lots of hostages.  We got the call to go in, get them out.  There was a change of plan, a last-minute adjustment.

MARY (staring at Vivian): You were Amo?  (Sherlock looks round to her.)  You were the person on the phone that time? SHERLOCK: Using AGRA as her private assassination unit. MARY (to Vivian): Why did you betray us? VIVIAN: Why does anyone do anything? SHERLOCK: Oh, let me guess.  Selling secrets? VIVIAN: Well, it would be churlish to refuse.  Worked very well for a few years.  I bought a nice cottage in Cornwall on the back of it.  But the ambassador in Tbilisi found out.  I thought I’d had it.  (She looks towards Mary before returning her gaze to Sherlock.)  Then she was taken hostage in that coup.  (She laughs.) I couldn’t believe my luck!  That bought me a little time. SHERLOCK: But then you found out your boss had sent AGRA in. VIVIAN: Very handy.  They were always such reliable killers. SHERLOCK: What you didn’t know, Mary, was that this one also tipped off the hostage-takers. (Mary turns and stares at him.) VIVIAN (sitting back down and resting her handbag on her lap): Lady Smallwood gave the order, but I sent another one to the terrorists with a nice little clue about her code name should anyone have an enquiring mind.  Seemed to do the trick. MARY: And you thought your troubles were over. VIVIAN: I was tired; tired of the mess of it all.  (She sighs.) I just wanted some peace, some clarity.  The hostages were killed, AGRA too ... (she looks across to Mary) ... or so I thought.  My secret was safe.  But apparently not.  Just a little peace.  That’s all you wanted too, wasn’t it?  A family, home.  Really, I understand. (Mary glances across to Sherlock but his gaze is fixed on Vivian, who lifts her handbag as if in preparation to stand, and rests one hand on the open top of it.) VIVIAN: So just let me get out of here, right?  Let me just walk away.  I’ll vanish.  I’ll go forever.  What d’you say? MARY (furiously): After what you did?! (She starts towards the older woman.) SHERLOCK (beginning to follow her): Mary, no! (In a fluid movement Vivian stands, pulling a pistol from her handbag and aiming it at Mary, who stops and backs away.) MARY: Okay. (She moves back to stand the other side of Sherlock.) John is in the back of a cab with a phone to his ear. JOHN (into phone): London Aquarium.  ...  Yes, now. (He hangs up.) ???????????

WATSON HOME.  Apparently Sherlock has knocked on the door and then stepped back out of the porch.  The door opens and Molly comes out, holding Rosie in her arms.  She closes the door and comes out to the porch.   Sherlock smiles down at his goddaughter. MOLLY (softly): Hi. (He nods to her.  She returns the nod.) SHERLOCK (quietly): I just ... wondered how things were going and ... and if there was anything I could do. (Looking awkward, Molly reaches into the pocket of her trousers and then holds out an envelope.) MOLLY: It’s, uh, it’s from John. SHERLOCK (taking it and looking down at it): Right. MOLLY: You don’t need to read it now. (She pauses for a moment as he looks at her.) MOLLY: I’m sorry, Sherlock.  He says ... Jo-John said if you were to come round asking after him, offering to help ... SHERLOCK: Yes? MOLLY (reluctantly): He ... said he’d r... that he’d rather have anyone but you.  (Softly) Anyone. (Sherlock blinks and presses his lips together.  Molly, with tears in her eyes, looks down at Rosie and then turns and goes back indoors, closing the door behind her.  Sherlock stands there for a few seconds, then turns and walks away, tucking the envelope into his coat pocket.) MARY (voiceover): I’m giving you a case, Sherlock. (Sherlock sits in the back of a black cab, his head lowered.  It’s possible that he’s looking at whatever was inside the envelope.) MARY (voiceover): When I’m gone – if I’m ... (she breathes out a shaky breath) ... gone – I need you to do something for me. [That sentence does sound different this second time.] (On the DVD recording, the camera focuses in on Mary’s mouth.) MARY: Save John Watson. (The focus switches to her eyes.) MARY: Save him, Sherlock. (The focus switches to her mouth again.) MARY: Save him.

TLD

SHERLOCK: Your life is not your own.  (His voice becomes strained.)  Keep your hands off it. (As he looks down, it’s as if he and the railing are suspended in mid-air with no ground or river below them.  His feet are not touching anything.  He lifts his right hand and looks at how badly it’s shaking.  He has a very brief flash of the word “SOMEONE” handwritten in white over a dark blue background.  The writing is almost identical to that on the note that Faith wrote to herself.  The last two letters of the word “KILL” are in the top left-hand corner of his vision.  At the riverside, Sherlock closes his eyes and blows out a breath.) FAITH: You’re not what I expected. You’re ... (Again the white, blue-backgrounded “SOMEONE” flashes before Sherlock’s eyes.  Groaning, he slumps on top of the railing.  He stares down into the blank void beneath his feet.  The tip of his right shoe is now wedged into the bottom rail of the railing and he struggles to get his left foot onto the rail as well.) SHERLOCK (breathlessly, anxiously): What ... what am I? FAITH: Nicer. (The words in front of Sherlock’s mind’s eye now read, in Faith’s handwriting, “NEED TO KILL SOMEONE”. Sherlock screws up his eyes, shaking the vision away and still clinging desperately to the railings.) SHERLOCK: Than who? FAITH (shaking her head): Anyone. (Sherlock closes his eyes and lets out a loud anguished scream.  There’s a brief cut-away of a syringe filled with dark fluid.  Sherlock slumps down onto the concrete in front of the railing, groaning.  As he doubles over, a voice sounds in his head.  It’s the voice of the child we heard singing in the previous episode.) CHILD’s VOICE (singing): ♪ I that am lost Oh, who will find me ... ♪ (Inside Sherlock’s head, the pirate child and the Irish setter trot through the shallows at a beach, then the youngster with the red wellingtons seems to be running towards them.) CHILD’s VOICE (singing): ♪ Deep down be... ♪ (Sherlock’s head snaps up and he breathes heavily as he looks towards the bench.) SHERLOCK: Sorry, I ... (He trails off.  Faith is no longer sitting there.) SHERLOCK (looking each way along the walkway): Faith? Faith? (Frowning, he leans his head back against the railings for a moment, then hauls himself to his feet.  Straightening his coat, he walks away.)

Sherlock is walking along the streets, perhaps making his way home.  His own words echo in his head. SHERLOCK’s VOICE (echoing): You said your life turned on one word.  A name can’t be one word. (He walks past some houses which have basement flats.  He walks to the street-level railings of one of those houses and looks over them, flashing back to the last time he stood at the door of a basement flat, when he visited John’s home and was met at the front door by Molly holding Rosie in her arms.) MOLLY’s VOICE (echoing): ... if you were to come round asking after him, that he’d rather have anyone but you. (In flashback, Molly stands outside the porch looking at him.  She pauses for a moment.) MOLLY: Anyone. (In the present, Sherlock turns away.) FAITH’s VOICE (echoing): You’re not what I expected. SHERLOCK’s VOICE (echoing): What ... what am I? FAITH’s VOICE (echoing): Nicer. SHERLOCK’s VOICE: Than who? (In flashback, Faith sits on the bench looking at him.) FAITH (her voice echoing): Anyone. MARY’s VOICE (echoing): Don’t think anyone else is going to save him, because there isn’t anyone. (On the DVD recording which she sent to Sherlock, she shakes her head.) FAITH’s VOICE (echoing): Anyone. MOLLY’s VOICE (echoing): Anyone. FAITH’s VOICE (echoing): Anyone. MOLLY’s VOICE (echoing): Anyone. MARY’s VOICE (echoing as she shakes her head on the DVD): Anyone.

SMITH: I need to kill someone. (Sherlock stops.) FAITH (offscreen): Who? SHERLOCK: Who? (Smith chuckles silently.) SMITH: Anyone! (He laughs.) SHERLOCK: Of course! (Smith continues to laugh, putting the back of one hand up to his mouth.) SHERLOCK: He doesn’t want to kill one person; he wants to kill anyone.  (He stares at Smith, his eyes wide.)  He’s a serial killer! SMITH (his hand lowered again): Anyone. SHERLOCK: He could be. SMITH: Anyone. SHERLOCK: Why not?  Why shouldn’t he be? (He starts to smile, then his smile drops and he looks confused.  Smith and the table instantly disappear and a man walks past in front of Sherlock, looking at him disapprovingly.  Offscreen a man’s voice angrily yells, “Move!” and, from an overhead shot, we see that Sherlock is standing in the middle of a very narrow stretch of road.   Cars have come to a halt in front of him, behind him, and from a side turning to his right, some of them honking their horns.  The driver of the car in front of him has his door open and calls out to him in irritation.) DRIVER: Hey, you!  What’s the matter with you? SMITH’s VOICE (echoing): Anyone!

In a cut-away of a TV show, Smith stands inside the door of a shop, looking out through the glass.  A female assistant stands at a cash register deeper in the shop.  Smith reaches up to a sign on the door and turns it around so that from outside it reads “Sorry We’re CLOSED”.  In the bottom left-hand corner of the screen are the words “BUSYNESS KILLER” except the ‘Y’ is actually a pair of scissors.  The word KILLER is in red.  Presumably this is the name of a TV show in which he is appearing/starring. In 221B Sherlock elevates off the rug without using his hands or feet. Bill stares in shock.  By the door to the landing, Sherlock begins walking up the wall.  Floating impossibly sideways, he clumsily steps over a lot of magazines piled up against the wall, then puts his feet together and turns towards Bill. Back out in the narrow street, Smith smiles ecstatically.) SMITH (in a whisper): Anyone. MOLLY’s VOICE (offscreen, echoing): Anyone.

(Cut-away of Smith standing outdoors, probably at Buckingham Palace, holding up and proudly pointing to his new OBE [more details of the Order of the British Empire here]. Again horizontal on the wall, Sherlock steps unsteadily downward, putting one foot on the arm of the chair beside the sofa.) SMITH (offscreen, echoing): Anyone.

Mrs. Hudson driving up could be anyone...*She has a larger role to fill, though. (See below)

JOHN: Have you spoken to Mycroft, Molly, uh, anyone? MRS HUDSON (tearfully): They don’t matter.  You do.  (She straightens up and turns to face him.)  Would you just see him?  Please, John.  Or just take a look at him as a doctor?  I know you’d change your mind if you did. (Mary: Who you are doesn’t matter.)

*The scene of Mrs. Hudson driving up is also our marker for when Mrs. Hudson got involved in The Game, and again, our indication arrives in TLD. It’s when she schools John and Mycroft on how emotional Sherlock really is. ( x ) More on that later...

Back to TLD

MARY (offscreen): I’m giving you a case, Sherlock. (In the living room of 221B, John sits in front of the TV and stares at it with tears in his eyes.  Mrs Hudson stands behind him.) MARY (offscreen): Might be the hardest case of your career. (The angle changes to show Mary on the TV screen.) MARY: When I’m ... gone – if I’m gone – I need you to do something for me. Save John Watson. (John grimaces and shakes his head slightly.) MARY: Save him, Sherlock. (Mrs H bends down to him.) MRS HUDSON: John, if you want to watch this later ... MARY (offscreen): Save him. (John breathes out a silent, “No,” his tear-filled eyes fixed on the screen.  Mrs Hudson straightens up again.) MARY: Don’t think anyone else is going to save him, because there isn’t anyone.  It’s up to you.  Save him.  But I do think you’re gonna need a little bit of help with that, because you’re not exactly good with people, so here’s a few things you need to know about the man we both love – and more importantly what you’re going to need to do to save him. (John stares at the screen wide-eyed.)

The same incident of Mrs. Hudson approaching in the sports car, as linked above, also has the giveaway overlap with Mary’s message to Sherlock.

Out on the streets, the Aston Martin is speeding along Victoria Embankment beside the river. (It will say TWO WEEKS EARLIER on the pavement as she drives). JOHN (offscreen): Please, I don’t think he’s safe. LESTRADE’s VOICE (over phone): No, he’s fine.  I’ve got a man on the door. What-what do you think’s happened? (In the driver’s seat, John has his phone to his left ear and is driving one-handed.) JOHN (into phone): I don’t know!  Something!  Mary left a message. LESTRADE (frowning wherever he is, into his phone): What message? MARY (on her DVD recording): John Watson never accepts help, not from anyone.  Not ever. (Cut-away shot of 221B’s living room in the day time.  The camera focuses in on John’s empty chair.) MARY (offscreen): But here’s the thing: he never refuses it.  So, here’s what you are going to do.

MARY: Because you’re an idiot, you don’t want anyone at the surgery knowing you’re in therapy, so that restricts you to lunchtime sessions with someone reasonably close. (John looks round at her.)

JOHN: What’s TD12? SHERLOCK: It’s a memory inhibitor. SMITH: Bliss. JOHN: Bliss? SMITH: Opt-in ignorance.  Makes the world go round. SHERLOCK (folding his arms): Anyone ever ‘opt’ to remember? (Remember Sherlock talking to Faith, then the cutaway of the syringe with dark fluid, and his screaming?) SMITH: Some people take the drip out, yeah.  Some people have the same ... urges.  Huh ... (he claps his hands together) ... come on.  Wasting time. SHERLOCK: Indeed.  (He looks at his watch.)  You have – I estimate – twenty minutes left. (Smiling, he walks towards the door which Smith is about to push open.  Smith turns back towards him.) SMITH: Sorry? SHERLOCK: I sent a text from your phone, remember?  It was read almost immediately.  Factoring in a degree of shock, an emotional decision and a journey time based on the associated address, I’d say that your life as you know it has twenty minutes left to run. (He checks his watch again.) SHERLOCK: Well, no, seventeen and a half, to be precise but I rounded up for dramatic effect, so please do show us your favourite room.  (He walks closer to Smith, glaring at him intensely.)  It’ll give you a chance to say ... goodbye. (Smith chuckles unpleasantly.) SMITH: Come along. (He turns around.  Sherlock pulls a brief humourless smile behind him, then heads for the door which Smith is holding open for him.  They walk away, Smith letting the door go behind him.  John walks towards it.) MARY’s VOICE (offscreen): The game is on. (John stops and the door closes in front of him.  He raises his head skywards.  As he starts to turn around, we are looking over Mary’s shoulder from behind her.) MARY: Do you still miss me? (He turns to look back into the room.  There’s nobody there.  John turns again, looking thoughtful, then starts to move.)

MRS HUDSON: What friend? (In flashback, past-Faith sits on the bench near the river and looks into the camera.) PAST-FAITH: Anyone. (In the present, Sherlock raises both hands and covers his nose and mouth, shocked and breathing out a horrified breath as he slowly backs away.   Smith continues to cackle delightedly.) SMITH: Oh no! (Sherlock blows out a couple more sharp breaths and takes his hands away from his face.  He briefly flashes back to the empty riverside bench.) SHERLOCK’s VOICE (offscreen from the direction of the railings): Faith? (In the present, Sherlock shakes his head and raises his hands again, pressing the sides of his thumbs to his eyes as he screws them shut.) SHERLOCK (muffled): God.

And now we go the scene of Mrs. Hudson schooling John and Mycroft, from the *linked meta above.

MRS HUDSON (brightly): You want to know what’s bothering Sherlock?  Easiest thing in the world; anyone can do it. MYCROFT: I know his thought processes better than any other human being, so please try to understand ... MRS HUDSON (starting to giggle again): He’s not about thinking, not Sherlock. MYCROFT: Of course he is. MRS HUDSON: No, no.  He’s more ... emotional, isn’t he?

MRS HUDSON (sternly): This is my house ... (she gestures towards John’s back) ... this is my friend ... (she points back towards the TV) ... and that’s his departed wife.  Anyone who stays here a minute longer is admitting to me personally they do not have a single spark of human decency.

John needed to be reminded, because he forgot. It’s been hanging around in his psyche that Sherlock is a LIAR, and possibly in Sherlock’s, too. ( x ) One could assume it’s mentioned in T6T, when John won’t allow Sherlock to touch Mary’s body, and is incensed, because of the vow Sherlock made. Sherlock didn’t vow to protect Mary, just to always be there, so John not allowing touch could be a way to lessen the need for more evidence to be wiped clean if it’s their alibi. We know there is a Post-It note in 221B to that effect, and that things have been looping since S2 ended. Mofftiss and Martin even point us toward the Rathbone/Bruce films. ( x )

Although we have evidence that Mary didn’t actually die in T6T, you could say John’s standards have come back to haunt him. We actually call it ghost!Mary.

It’s important too, because Sherlock doesn’t play by the rules, and hasn’t for a very long time. He even told John that, and John is often a stand-in for us.

It’s even tied into what might be the attempt to bring Mary to justice, in the same episode. The Hat ( x ) The Cane and The Umbrella ( x ) as recording devices.

For Sherlock Anyone goes back to TSoT, or more to the point, to the Sex Holiday following it. ( x ) *And once more, it’s related to Mrs. Hudson’s role.

MARY (offscreen): I’m giving you a case, Sherlock. (In the living room of 221B, John sits in front of the TV and stares at it with tears in his eyes.  Mrs Hudson stands behind him.) MARY (offscreen): Might be the hardest case of your career. (The angle changes to show Mary on the TV screen.) MARY: When I’m ... gone – if I’m gone – I need you to do something for me.  Save John Watson. (John grimaces and shakes his head slightly.) MARY: Save him, Sherlock. (Mrs H bends down to him.) MRS HUDSON: John, if you want to watch this later ... MARY (offscreen): Save him. (John breathes out a silent, “No,” his tear-filled eyes fixed on the screen.  Mrs Hudson straightens up again.) MARY: Don’t think anyone else is going to save him, because there isn’t anyone.  It’s up to you.  Save him.  But I do think you’re gonna need a little bit of help with that, because you’re not exactly good with people, so here’s a few things you need to know about the man we both love – and more importantly what you’re going to need to do to save him. (John stares at the screen wide-eyed.)

MARY (on her DVD recording): John Watson never accepts help, not from anyone.  Not ever. (Cut-away shot of 221B’s living room in the day time.  The camera focuses in on John’s empty chair.) MARY (offscreen): But here’s the thing: he never refuses it.  So, here’s what you are going to do.

TFP

MYCROFT: Colloquially it is known as “the patience grenade.” (The drone lands on the floor and its rotors shut down.) JOHN: “Patience”? (The grenade buzzes and the top pops up a little, showing a bright red light emanating from inside the device.  It repeatedly beeps quietly.) MYCROFT: The motion sensor has activated. If any of us move, the grenade will detonate. (From now on, everyone speaks quietly, Sherlock in particular barely moving his lips.) SHERLOCK: How powerful? MYCROFT: It will certainly destroy this flat and kill anyone in it.  Assuming walls of reasonable strength, your neighbours should be safe, but as it’s landed on the floor, I am moved to wonder if the café below is open. SHERLOCK: It’s Sunday morning, so it’s closed. JOHN: What about Mrs Hudson? (The camera sinks down through the floor to the ground floor kitchen.  In the middle of the room, Mrs Hudson has an apron over her clothes.  She is rocking around the room to the sound of Iron Maiden’s “The Number of the Beast” blaring from the earbuds she’s wearing while she vacuums the lino. Back upstairs the sound of the vacuum cleaner can faintly be heard.) SHERLOCK: Going by her usual routine, I estimate she has another two minutes left.

This is important, because in TAB, Watson is being impatient in the greenhouse scene, right before he presses Holmes about his impulses.

Sherlock gone for two years after TRF, two months passed after Moriarty’s release before the fall & in the investigation of Baron Maupertuis within Serbia in ACD canon-which is recalled in TEH, TLD we have two weeks over and over again, so we’re counting down...we’ve been patient...

MYCROFT (straightening up): Eurus doesn’t just talk to people.  She ... reprograms them. (John turns back to look at the screen.) MYCROFT: Anyone who spends time with her is automatically compromised. EURUS (offscreen from the wallscreen): I’m only trying to help you.  We can help each other. (The angle switches to her on the screen.) EURUS: Helping someone ... (she nods) ... is the best way you can help yourself. MAN (offscreen): I don’t trust you.

MR HOLMES: When can we see her? (Mycroft looks at him. At Sherrinford, Sherlock comes out of the lift on the upper level of the Control Room and trots down the stairs.) MYCROFT (offscreen): There’s no point. MRS HOLMES (upset): How dare you say that? MYCROFT (closing his eyes and speaking more firmly): She won’t talk. She won’t communicate with anyone in any way. (At Sherrinford, Sherlock swipes a card through a card reader and the door in front of him opens.  He walks through.) MYCROFT: She has passed beyond our view. (Still leaning against Mycroft’s office door, Sherlock gazes down at the floor in front of him.) MYCROFT (looking at his mother): There are no words that can reach her now.

In other words, Anyone was always about Sherlock seeking, and John being not just Anyone.

Transcripts ( x )

[optometrist0]

Optometry Office

Contents

Office. two minutes later

Are current and treats eye

Prospects. because the number the

Representing the interests among

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OPTOMETRIC OFFICE (OO) offers ODs in-depth, pertinent information about the products that serve them in their practice—all in a user-friendly format.

Welcome to Optometric Architects, where we provide design and architecture services for optometry office and floor plan designs.

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EYE DOCTORS WOODBRIDGE

My Vision Care PLLC is one of America’s TOP Optometrists Woodbridge VA for six years in a row. Contact for professional Eye Care services in a comfortable and friendly environment or to schedule your appointment today.

Dr. Mohammad Ashfaq Eye Doctor Woodbridge VA owns and operates My Vision Care PLLC, a quality eye care facility in Woodbridge, VA. You will receive the highest quality of eye care from Dr. Ashfaq and his professional team of eye care specialists when you visit their office at woodbridge Va for eye care, eye exam, eye doctor, and optometrist services. Every patient is unique, and Dr. Ashfaq takes this into consideration when consulting with each patient. Optometrist & Eye doctor In Woodbridge You can trust.

Address: Liberty Commons, 14130 Noblewood Plaza, Golansky Blvd #105, Woodbridge, VA 22192, United States Website: http://www.myvisioncarepllc.com/ Phone: +1 703-878-2020