#I WANT to make banana bread and hang out with my husband and stay up until 9 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jasontoddiefor · 4 years

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universe of beaches Chp. 2

In which Anakin makes breakfast, Padmé ensure the boys are well dressed and there is a wedding. Read on AO3!

So honey take me by the hand and we can sign some papers Forget the invitations, floral arrangements and bread makers

-Alvvays, Archie Marry Me

Obi-Wan woke up to the smell of bacon and pancakes. It took him a few moments to start wondering about it. The first thing to consider was the fact that he usually didn’t eat bacon or pancakes or anything really for breakfast. Secondly, nobody should be in his house cooking him breakfast. As slowly as Sloth, the memories of last night’s adventured trickled in so that by the time Obi-wan actually crawled out of Anakin and Padmé’s bed, at least fifteen minutes had passed. He sat up and stretched, attempting to shake his exhaustion from his limbs. When he turned around, he found Padmé still asleep. He vaguely recalled her slipping out of bed as the last one to get up for the twins during the night. At the thought of the children, Obi-Wan glanced at their crib only to find it empty.

If Padmé was still asleep, and the twins awake already, it had to be Anakin cooking in the kitchen and looking after them. Carefully, so Obi-Wan wouldn’t wake her, he stood up and headed towards the living room. He found the twins already sitting in their highchairs at the dinner table and cheerfully throwing their toys around. When they spotted him, they waved excitedly and babbled at him.

“Good morning to you too,” Obi-Wan retorted and went to retrieve the plush banthas. Ever since Anakin had become obsessed with Star Wars, more and more merch from it had found itself into the twins’ belongings. It should surprise Obi-Wan that these were their favorite toys. He set them down in front of them. Luke and Leia quickly took them from him and pressed them close to their bodies. The animals were almost the same size as the twins and so it all made a rather ridiculous picture that had Obi-Wan grinning.

Moving past them, he headed towards the kitchen where Anakin was standing at the stove.

“Pancakes, eggs, and bacon?” Obi-Wan asked, leaning against the doorframe. “What a nice surprise.”

Anakin threw him a look over his shoulder and grinned. “Well, yeah, have to spoil my future husband, don’t I?”

His smile twitched slightly, uncertainty taking it over for a moment.

“Of course, darling,” Obi-Wan returned easily, skipping straight over the topic. He had already made his decision, Anakin didn’t need to worry. “Tell me, do you have tea as well?”

“Of course. We even have your favorite.”

Anakin reached for the wall cabinet with his left hand. He hadn’t put on his prosthetic yet and Obi-Wan just hoped he hadn’t turned it to pieces as stressed as he had been. Anakin tended to tinker with it a lot because he was so pissed with the cheap model he had been provided with and had built his own out of scraps. It was a good aid usually, just a little too heavy still and there were some other fine motion issues that Obi-Wan couldn’t entirely recall. He didn’t exactly have the technical knowledge to do anything more than understanding the bare basics of Anakin’s ramblings.

Anakin set a box filled with bags of tea onto the counter. “Your favorite is in the very right corner.”

“Thank you,” Obi-Wan replied and got three cups out of a drawer. He put his favorite tea into his own cup and picked something calming for Anakin and Padmé.

He then started up the kettle and went to grab plates from the cupboards to lay the table. He also got a set of plastic ones for Luke and Leia and then put all on it on a tray he was fairly sure used to belong to him at one point. He carried his assembly of cutlery into the living room and distributed everything in a safe distance from the twins, already aware of the look they shot the new prospective toys.

He then returned to the kitchen to grab some healthy things to eat besides Anakin’s bacon and pancakes and the twins' fruit puree. Padmé and Anakin’s fridge was upsettingly empty and Obi-Wan was tempted to invite them to lunch and dinner today. It wasn’t like he didn’t have the money for it. He lived alone in a house that had been in his family’s possession for generations, had a steady income, and his inheritance if things got rough.

He still didn’t know how he had ended up as his grandfather’s favored grandchild – Feemor was, after all, actually the most mild-mannered of them all – but Obi-Wan had given up arguing with Dooku Serenno. If his grandfather wanted to throw money at him, he just let him. It was easier than forcing himself to sit through a six-hour argument that only ended with him agreeing to whatever his grandfather had thought of anyway.

After a few more minutes, Anakin brought in the eggs, bacon, and pancakes and set them on the table and, as if summoned, Padmé arrived in the living room.

“Good morning,” she muttered tiredly and gave Anakin a quick peck on the lips while then absolutely smothering the twins with kisses. Luke and Leia shrieked in delight and began to laugh. The sounds were probably the sweetest thing Obi-Wan had heard in a while. He wouldn’t even mind giving the awful Introduction to Literary Studies course for the next few semesters if he could get to see the twins every morning.

“What time is it even?” Padmé asked as she slipped into one of the chairs. “I didn’t check the clock.”

“Six a.m. We agreed to meet Quinlan in two hours.”

“Oh, that’s good. Then we still have enough time to dress you both up.”

“What?” Obi-Wan stopped right in the middle of pulling a pancake onto his plate. “What do you mean dress up?”

Padmé shrugged and smiled softly.

“My third and fourth favorite person in the world are getting married, you ought to be dressed up and look nice for your wedding. Even if it’s just pretending. We can show it the twins in a couple of years and be all ‘look at the time Daddy and Uncle Obi-Wan got married’ and then we’ll have a laugh about it.”

Obi-Wan wasn’t so sure if they were really going to laugh about it in the future, looking back at the horrible circumstances that got them here, but they could try at least.

“I still have the suit from our wedding somewhere,” Anakin brought up and spoon-fed Leia some mashed stuff that Obi-Wan couldn’t identify. Could be apples, could be bananas – the glass container didn’t say. “White, red and gold. Think you can match that color scheme?”

Obi-Wan honestly had no idea. The last time he had worn a proper suit had been a while ago as he hadn’t had to go to any super fancy events lately. If Anakin was going to drag out his very fine suit though, Obi-Wan should probably do the same, if only for the photos.

“I’ll have to take a look,” he finally replied.

“Great!” Padmé clapped her hands together and, of course, the twins immediately imitated her. “So first, we’ll stop at Obi-Wan’s place, then after go to the park, get married, submit the documents and then do nothing for the remainder of the day because I think the stress will kill me otherwise.”

“Kill you?” Anakin echoed and threw up his arms in a grand gesture. “I’m the one who’s getting married!”

Obi-Wan laughed at his ridiculous actions and exaggerating dramatics. He honestly missed eating a meal with the Skywalker-Naberrie household. The mornings here were never as boring as they were in his own home where it was just him on his own, pretending he was actually bothering to eat a healthy breakfast and wasn’t just grabbing a cup of coffee on the way to university.

That reminded him.

“Don’t you have classes today?” he asked Anakin. He was fairly sure that Wednesday mornings were one of the busier ones for Anakin.

“Already emailed my professor,” Anakin retorted. “Said it was a family emergency, he was very understanding.”

Of course, he was. Anakin’s teachers either loved or hated him – always had. Now that Anakin didn’t have to bother with any ‘useless subjects’ anymore but could pretty much do what he wanted, most of his teachers actually enjoyed having the genius in their class, if only for the bragging rights. Obi-Wan was sure that if not for the twins, Anakin could have been made a TA already.

“That’s good.”

They finished breakfast quickly and then got dressed right after one another. Obi-Wan picked his old clothes up from where he had left them last night and then grabbed some of the clothes he had left at their place when he’d still stayed there for more than just one night and put them on. When he was finished and left the bathroom, Luke and Leia were at least half dressed already, wearing green romper suits. They were then passed off to him with well-practiced ease as their parents got ready in turn.

Obi-Wan waited for Anakin and Padmé with the twins sitting in front of him on the ground. He had been there the first time they had sat up, just a couple of days ago. By now they seemed to have a better hang on it and were happy as ever.

Anakin emerged first from the bathroom, dressed rather casually compared to his wife who had taken the time to put on make-up and fetch one of her fancier dark dresses. After yet another few minutes searching for keys and purses and shoes, the three adults and the children were all washed, dressed, and ready to go.

“My car or yours?” Obi-Wan asked, unnecessarily as Padmé already took the twins’ car seats out of their car.

“Hey!” Anakin protested, but helped settle the children into Obi-Wan’s car anyway. “My car can drive us there just fine and safely.”

Anakin’s car, lovingly called twilight for all the times it had broken down, leaving them stranded in the twilight zone, was a safe car. Obi-Wan didn’t doubt Anakin’s mechanical skills. He just also knew that it wasn’t exactly up to street regulations anymore due to its street racing aimed modifications. If they were stopped by the police, they’d be in for a nice chat.

“You can drive it just fine, I’m not driving that,” Padmé jabbed.

The drive to Obi-Wan’s house was quick and filled with conversation, mostly pointing out random objects to the twins and saying what they were called or what their color was. The twins listened eagerly and contributed to the conversation as best they could.

Once they arrived at Obi-Wan’s house, Padmé and Anakin each took one of their children to carry them inside.

“I’ll just grab a suit then,” Obi-Wan said, already halfway up the stairs. “It shouldn’t take too long.”

Padmé and Anakin exchanged a look that honestly didn’t look all too promising and almost just a little threatening.

“Or you can come with me and help me pick one out?” Obi-Wan amended and was instantly rewarded by two happy smiles.

Obi-Wan’s bedroom was nothing special, ignoring that it was larger than Padmé and Anakin’s and also had a playpen since he had watched over the twins one time and he had just bought one on the way home so he didn’t have to return to Padmé and Anakin’s to pick theirs up. It had seemed like a good future investment at the time and proved to still be one when they sat the twins inside and they stayed peaceful.

“Alright.” Anakin flopped down on Obi-Wan’s bed, making himself at home. “What have you got?”

“Anything that matches this?” Padmé inquired and pulled Anakin’s wedding suit from a bag. It was still in pristine condition. The suit itself was white, but the hems of the arms and pants, as well as the pockets, had been embroidered by fie red and gold thread, Tatooine and Naboo tradition mixed apparently. Anakin had gushed about it for hours when he had told Obi-Wan about it and Obi-Wan probably knew more about it than any other living person on this earth. The only one he had talked about it to more would be Padmé, though Obi-Wan also felt like he was the person who knew the most about Padmé’s wedding dress and lace-making traditions.

“I should have something,” Obi-Wan said, eyeing the red color of the suit.

He disappeared into his walk-in closet, an unnecessary thing that was only half full at most really and began searching through his suits. He had plenty enough, black, grey, blue – standard colors. He just wasn’t sure if any of those were quite up to wedding level standards.

The thought of marriage made him stop, just for a moment. Of course, there was nothing exactly special about marrying Anakin. This was just a beneficial business arrangement and was meant to keep his best friend safe until they had figured the rest out. Obi-Wan hadn’t thought of himself as somebody who would get married, at least not anymore. There had been a time where he could have imagined it, with the right person, but that was years ago and by now he was content just spending time with his friends and their adorable children.

Obi-Wan ran his fingers over his selection of suits and hesitated over a dark blue one. He had bought it a while ago for a formal award ceremony that had never taken place because of some copyright scandal. He had kept the suit but never actually worn it, thinking he would someday. The suits buttons were golden and would match nicely with Anakin’s. Obi-Wan picked out a white undershirt and a dark tie.

“Have you found anything?” Padmé asked.

“Yes! Give a minute to put it on,” Obi-Wan replied.

Anakin and Padmé cheered with enthusiasm. Obi-Wan sighed with a silly smile and, for the second time within 24 hours, undressed for Anakin and Padmé. Despite it having been a while, the suit still fit snugly and well and when he looked at himself in the mirror, he thought he looked quite good. He threw his old clothes into the laundry basket and stepped outside.

“And?” he asked and did a little spin. “Does it fit?”

Padmé and Anakin studied him intensely, then nodded. “Yeah, this- uh, you look great,” Anakin said, stumbling over his own words.

“Have I rendered you speechless, dear one?” Obi-Wan asked, teased.

Anakin spluttered, earning himself a laugh from his wife.

“Absolutely stunning, Obi-Wan,” Padmé told him.

She stood up and circled around Obi-Wan, reminding him just a bit of a predator eyeing their target. If he remembered correctly one of her childhood friends – Eirtaé? Or was it Rabé? – was a designer and had frequently requested Padmé’s help on her amateur fashion shows.

“This will do just fine,” Padmé decided. “Alright, Anakin, your turn.”

“Wait what?”

“You need to get dressed as well, don’t you?” Obi-Wan said. “C’mon, big day.”

Padmé put the suit in Anakin’s hand so that he could change. Anakin returned after a few minutes, dressed in his white suit, his right sleeve hanging loose. He looked good as he had the day of his wedding, though his hair was a little longer now, which was a lot better than the god-awful haircut he had sported at nineteen.

“And? What do you say?” Anakin turned to the children. “Does daddy look good?”

The twins, distracted with their toys, didn’t even react, leaving Anakin hanging.

“You do look good,” Padmé said and helped him roll up his right sleeve.

“We’re all finished then, aren’t we?” Obi-Wan asked. “I’m dressed, so are you, the twins are wearing their nicest clothes, Padmé is outshining all of us. All that’s left to do is see if Quinlan is up yet and hasn’t forgotten about it.”

He probably should have called him first thing in the morning, but Quinlan likely wouldn’t even have answered that early.

Anakin rocked forward and backward on his heels. “Yeah, that seems to be about it.”

“I’ll call him then.” Obi-Wan searched for his phone, found it in his pocket after an embarrassingly long time and then quickly dialed Quinlan. As he was the last person Obi-Wan had called, he should be the last number on his list. Instead, Obi-Wan was surprised to see that his father had called him while he had been asleep. Typically Qui-Gon, the man never did call to reasonable hours too stuck on whatever time zone he was in and not knowing about anybody else’s. Obi-Wan wasn’t too keen on calling him back. If it was something important, he would know it. His father could try again, Obi-Wan was sick of trying.

Quinlan picked up after the second ring, much faster than Obi-Wan had expected.

“Obi-Wan,” Quinlan greeted. “Good morning, my man. You ready for the big day?”

So Quinlan hadn’t forgotten it, that was good at least. Obi-Wan would hate to go through the whole spiel again. “Yeah, we’re ready. Is there anything you need to get done?”

“Nope,” cam ethe reply. “I’ve taken care of everything. Driving to the park right now. When will you be there?”

Obi-Wan exchanged looks with Padmé and Anakin.

“Twenty?” Padmé suggested. Anakin nodded.

“Twenty,” Obi-Wan replied.

“Sweet.” Quinlan then quickly rattled off how to get to the gazebo he was so in love with and then finished the call.

And that was it. Obi-Wan pocketed his phone and the trio plus children left his bedroom and finally his house. They went back to Obi-Wan’s car and drove to the park. As it was fairly early still, and a weekday, not many people were out. Obi-Wan parked the car, they took the stroller out of the trunk and settled the children in it. Recalling Quinlan’s instructions, they walked through the park. The only people that they met were fellow parents with small children and here and there what looked like a group of college students cramming.

Obi-Wan needed to get to work as well, he had been supposed to finish grading his papers by the end of the week. Oh well, his students would just have to live with him taking a little longer. He’d just let them off without homework.

Obi-Wan didn’t expect to find Quinlan in the distance, but his friend was for once dressed nicely and not just in his dark jeans, hoodie, and leather jacket. Quinlan spotted them soon after and waved at them, a motion the twins were happy to return. If Quinlan was confused by their presence, he didn’t show it.

“Obi-Wan!” He greeted and pulled Obi-Wan into a hug. “How are you doing, my friend?”

“Well, thank you,” Obi-Wan retorted. “And thank you for helping us out.”

Quinlan grinned and slapped Obi-Wan on the back.

“No problem, I’m honestly happy I get to do this for you. So, what’s the arrangement? Just you and Anakin?”

Obi-Wan blanked. He had actually no idea what Quinlan thought they were getting into. Last night it had just sounded like he was assuming that Obi-Wan was already dating Anakin, which couldn’t be further from the truth, but on the other hand… If the government had already gone such lengths to revoke Anakin’s citizen status, it was probably best this appeared as honest as possible.

“I’m marrying Anakin, yes,” Obi-Wan replied.

“Okay, okay, and dear Padmé? I got some extra paper if you want to involve her in any way too. Asajj reminded me about it.”

Obi-Wan suppressed a wince. If Asajj already knew about this, it was only going to get worse and the rumors were bound to start spreading any second. He just hoped she’d keep her mouth shut in front of his grandfather. Obi-Wan did not need Dooku breathing down his neck about this.

“No involvement from my side no,” Padmé said. “I am not brave enough to try to.”

She grinned and winked at Anakin as Quinlan laughed. “Wise choice, my lady. Those two have been making moon eyes at each other since, urgh, what? Way too long for sure.”

“Thank you for your input, Quinlan,” Obi-Wan said, rolling his eyes. “Can we get back to the topic at hand though?”

“Yes, of course.” Quinlan cleared his throat. “Have you two prepared anything or…?”

Obi-Wan shook his head. Honestly, when were they supposed to have prepared anything? “No, we haven’t, just take our signatures and-“

“Actually,” Anakin said with a shit-eating grin. “I have thought of a lovely vow I’d like to speak.”

“Now look at that, that’s how you do it, Kenobi,” Quinlan said. “Well then, Skywalker. Let’s hear it.”

“Right,” Anakin muttered, then took a deep breath. “Right, okay. Obi-Wan Kenobi, ever since I’ve first met you, you have been one of the most important people in my life. You were there for me when I had my best and my worst days. You’ve always supported me unconditionally and I don’t know where I would be without you. I love you more than words could possibly ever describe and so I just want to tell you that I hope I’ll have you by my side for the rest of my life.”

Obi-Wan’s throat closed up. With every word that fell from Anakin’s lips, he was thrown into another memory, another thought of all the times they had had each other’s backs.

“Dear one-“

Anakin held up his hand. “Not finished yet. I promise you that I will cherish you forever as every flower worships the sun. You are as precious to me as the very air I breathe and there is no other I’d trust more with my family.”

Now Anakin did smile a little embarrassedly. “And I’m eternally thankful for you. You, uh, don’t have to say anything back-“

“No,” Obi-Wan said, his heart overtaken with fondness for his best friend. “No, no, I want to. Just, give me a second.”

Obi-Wan thought back to everything he had already lived through with Anakin.

He loved him.

He really did love Anakin, his best friend was one of the few constants in his life that Obi-Wan could always count on. The more he thought about what he could say, the more easily did he figure out what he simply should tell Anakin.

“Anakin, dear one, I love you too. More so than I thought I could when I first met the scrappy nine-year-old blond kid who decided he’s going to talk to me about ships and cars in a language I couldn’t even speak. You mean the world to me and I will continually try to live up to the expectations you have of me. I will not betray the trust you have put into me and I vow to love you the same way you love me.”

A heavy silence followed his statement.

It was finally interrupted by Quinlan’s low whistle. “Always knew you were a romantic at heart. Well then, Anakin Skywalker-Naberrie, do you take Obi-Wan Kenobi as your lawfully wedded husband?”

Anakin looked into Obi-Wan’s eyes, serious all of sudden. “Yes.”

“Do you promise to always stay by his side?”

Anakin shot Quinlan a look. “Didn’t you just hear what I said?”

Quinlan only smiled and raised his hands in defense. “Alright, true enough. I think for the two of you, I can skip the questions. Well, then. Obi-Wan Kenobi, do you take Anakin Skywalker-Naberrie as your lawfully wedded husband?”

“I do.” The words weighed heavier on his tongue than Obi-Wan had expected them to. He had never been someone to make promises haphazardly, or to break them easily. He had meant every word he had told Anakin and he would do his best to honor them.

“Then – skipping the questions you all have very sappy answers to – I hereby pronounce you husband and husband. You may kiss.”

Quinlan’s words shook Obi-Wan out of his thoughts like ice water, reminding him of the greater context of this ceremony.

“We don’t-“ Obi-Wan started, but was interrupted by Anakin.

“Can’t be worse than senior year,” Anakin stated and then, with a speed Obi-Wan hadn't expected, leaned forward and captured Obi-Wan’s lips in a soft kiss. The world seemed to go quiet, all background noise fading out as he put his hands around Obi-Wan’s cheeks, the warmth welcoming, and deepened the kiss once more, stealing Obi-Wan’s breath away.

By the time they separated, Obi-Wan’s head felt a little woozy and he thought his lips had to be kiss-swollen as much as they were still chasing the aftertaste of Anakin.

“And how was that?” Anakin asked, his voice rather quiet and face flushed.

Obi-Wan opened his mouth to speak, but no word would come out. All the many poems he had read, all the imagery he had destroyed and torn to shreds to built them up more beautiful and yet none of them seemed to be appropriate.

“It looked fun for sure,” Padmé spoke up and promptly kissed her husband as well, half laughing into their kiss of relief.

Right. Obi-Wan used their latch in attention to pull himself together and focus.

“Now you two just have to sign this,” Quinlan said and put the papers on the table. “Padmé can act as your witness as the twins are a little too young still.”

Obi-Wan looked down on the paperwork, which signified so much more than just a change of a relationship. Thinking more closely about this, Obi-Wan would have to change his tax forms for the year and they probably should also look into what the situation with the twins was like, but all of that could be deal with later. As long as they had this in hand, Anakin would be alright.

“Thank you, Quinlan, really,” Obi-Wan told Quinlan.

“No problem,” Quinlan replied and handed him a pencil. “Now make it official.”

Obi-Wan Kenobi accepted the pencil and signed right on one line, making his part of the contract official. He then passed the pencil to Anakin who put his messy signature right next to Obi-Wan’s. They stared at the paper for a few seconds, just letting it all sink in. They had done it, and that in such a short time too. It was only twenty past eight and it already felt as if the entire day had passed. Obi-Wan was glad he had the day off, he didn’t particularly feel like doing anything complicated at all today.

Glancing at Anakin, Obi-Wan could tell he was a little out of it as well. The realization that his life wasn’t about to get incredibly messed up within a week probably still had to settle in.

“So that was it?” Padmé asked. “They’re officially married?”

“As legal as can be,” Quinlan reassured her. “I’ll bring the paper to the office and you should get a notice within a few days. If you haven’t gotten it by next Monday, I’ll look into it.”

“Thank you, Vos,” Padmé spoke up again. “Is there anything we can do for you in return?”

Quinlan shook his head dismissively. “Nah, don’t worry about it. It was my pleasure, really. Now go and enjoy your honeymoon.”

Honeymoon, Obi-Wan snorted. The best they were going to get right now was a second breakfast.

“Off to Dex’s?” He suggested. “I could use something horribly sweet just about right now.”

And perhaps also something alcoholic.

#Anakin Skywalker #obi wan kenobi #padmé amidala #obianidala #star wars #fanfic

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sabreean · 3 years

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One word for you...

Where I have not gone plastic-free:

Bread box: There are no plastic-free, airtight bread boxes that I’ve been able to find and I *must have* airtight. I make my own bread in a bread machine just because I like to, and the first few loaves I made here on the humid island grew mold within three days because my old bread box was not airtight. Bread bags are more eco-friendly but aren’t airtight, and will hold the humidity. I could find no silicon boxes and also could not find silicone containers/bags that I could be sure would be big enough to hold a loaf of bread and still close completely. I’m considering a giant silicone bag I found online, for marinating meat, so if I get that I can see if a loaf will fit inside. But I haven’t pulled the trigger on that yet, buying something just to marinate meat doesn’t fall neatly into the “I really need it now” category. So I purchased a BPA-free plastic, airtight box and it seems to be working very well. It’s so airtight that I was able to store bananas in it as well and there has been no sign of fruit flies.

Suncare: I spent two days working on the porch. I was under a roof in shade the entire time but I sunburn if I stand next to a toaster, so at the end of the second day I looked like Roy Neary in “Close Encounters of the Third Kind”. As in the right half of my face was bright red. I wasn’t wearing sunscreen because it breaks me out. All of it. Every single sunscreen ever. They all break out my face, neck and chest within 20 minutes of application. So I did some research and learned about mineral sunscreens versus chemical sunscreens and after reading a lot of recommendations and reviews, I ordered Alba Botanica Sensitive Mineral Sunscreen. Yes the tube is plastic, but there’s probably no avoiding that. The sport cream is 45 SPF, waterproof for up to 80 minutes, vegan, free of all the chemicals that turn my face into a Marscape, biodegradable and - get this - reef safe. That’s a “gee how nice” for most people but now that I’m swimming around coral reefs, shit got real. They also make a spray-on but it’s not legal to ship aerosol cans to Hawaii, something about them exploding under pressure blah-bibby-blah. Pretty bummed about that. For those wondering, until now I’ve worn a sun visor whenever I’m outdoors but it didn’t occur to me to wear it on a covered porch. I’m sure it didn’t occur to Roy on a dark deserted highway in the middle of an Indiana night, either. LATER UPDATE: Native makes a mineral sunscreen and I thought it wasn't water resistant, but it turns out that it is, although I should not have had to dig so deep into their website to find this out. Better than getting anal probed, all things considered. The Alba sunscreen is very thick and hard to squeeze out of the tube, and you can feel it on your skin at first but you forget pretty quickly. It is completely unscented. You have to make sure to rub it in well if you don’t want to look a little weird. It showers off clean and easy and after a few days with it, not a single blemish! Our pharmacy sells some water resistant mineral sunscreens. I didn’t price them the last time I was there to compare with online ordering and they are probably reef-safe because as of January 1 of this year, suncreeens containing oxybenzone and octinoxate are banned in Hawaii to protect the reefs. But my next purchase will be Little Hands because it is made right here in Hawaii. I have been a big believer in ‘buy local’ for many years and they are plastic-free.

Groceries: Groceries haven’t changed. I’ve been using cloth shopping and produce bags for many years, they just bloody well work better. I do buy some foods in plastic, often there just isn’t any alternative. This was true even on the mainland. The main change is that now I walk to the store more often than not. I was able to walk to almost everything I needed when I lived in Austin’s SoCo in the early aughts and I loved it, I am so so happy to be able to do that again. Knowing I’m just a pleasant stroll away also means that I only buy what I need in the immediate future. There are a few exceptions for items that sell out very soon after the weekly supply barge comes, and don’t always get restocked even then. I drive when I have to buy heavy or awkward to carry things, like a case of soda. I’ve found conflicts with grocery choices because of a weird contradiction: non-hippie products in cardboard/paper packaging versus hippie products in plastic. I first noticed this when I went to buy sugar the other day - do I get the organic non bleached sugar in the plastic bag, or the nonorganic bleached sugar in the plastic bag? It wasn’t much of a conflict in any real world sense, just something that grabbed my attention. (I went with the plastic by the way, for the organic foodstuff that was going to go into my body).

Probably the clothesline, I have no idea what the hell that thing is made of, most likely nylon. We don’t use it for everything because it’s too humid here to dry everything in a reasonable amount of time. But we use it for some things - especially towels and swim wear - and I’m glad that we have it and it saves money on electricity. Our electricity generation here on the island is likely solar but still, no need to be greedy about it. Lots of people here have clotheslines, they are a common sight I am glad to see.

Bandages: I use Wellys. Patch bamboo bandages sound great, but I am clumsy AF and so I need bandages that are going to stay on through wet and dry and everything else. Wellys are flexible fabric, latex-free bandages made in the USA, in reusable tins that you can buy refills for if you don’t want a new tin, and that create a seal around all four edges. They are a certified B Corp so even with a bit of plastic, the company is still in line with my ethics.

Makeup: I use mostly mineral makeup, because it lasts longer (no organic ingredients to breed bacteria) and many mineral brands offer smaller quantities that are more sensible for people who don’t wear it everyday, or at least don’t wear the same colors every day. On the mainland I went weeks without wearing makeup and here I’ll probably go for months, it’s just such a casual place. I might wear some when we go across to Maui for a long weekend. But there are a lot of all natural and plastic-free makeup options out there these days, I am glad to see. If I need to replace anything I will shop with them but it’s just stupid and wasteful to toss everything out and buy new. One thing I won’t compromise on is mascara, I use Thrive because it really does what it claims, and it is still a company that aligns with my ethics. Many zero-waste brands sell cake mascara and that’s a complete nope for me. I tried cake mascara in high school, when I was going through my Audrey Hepburn/Sophia Loren makeup phase and I really didn’t like it. I also tried cake eyeliner and must confess that this elder goth never ever got the hang of liquid eyeliner, Icarus winged better than I can. I gave up a long time ago, pencil me in baby. Also, I wear lipstick, the paint-on stuff that stays on through food, drink, sex and a nuclear blast. IMO, lip balms are a waste of money and do not count as ‘makeup’, unless you’re only intention is to prevent chapped lips and with a small amount of color that lasts few minutes at a time.

Hair brush: I need a new hair brush that is designed for my long fine mane because my hair is getting a lot of punishment here, between wind and swimming and so more frequent washing and lots of pulling and tugging into braids. I bounced back and forth between Ibiza (boar bristles, wood handle) and Mason Pearson (boar bristles, plastic handle), for about half an hour. I finally decided to bite the big one and invest in the Mason Pearson. It is universally reputed as the best hair brush to be had on planet Earth. The was company founded in London by a Yorkshireman named Mason Pearson (bet you didn’t see that coming) in 1885. The boar bristles are either shed bristles collected from the wild in India and China or sourced from the meat industry as they are a by-product of processing farmed boar; you may ask so I will answer and yes, I do eat boar. Mason Pearson is still owned and run by the Pearson family and the Pearson women have always played integral roles in the company. Indeed Mary Pearson was the CEO for the 20 years following the death of her husband, founder Mason, and one of their daughters ran the top floor of the factory on Old Ford Road in London for 50 years. You can purchase a brush with a handcrafted made-to-order wood handle but while I am willing to make the investment in a Mason Pearson brush, I just can’t bring myself to be so self-indulgent as to even send a price inquiry for the wood model. This is where my best friend reminds me of the lengths I went to and the price I paid to obtain a bottle of the finest Irish whiskey in the world to demonstrate that yes, I can be that self-indulgent without much convincing. I just can’t bring myself to do it with a hair brush. I purchased from Pasteur Pharmacy in NYC because they made their bones, if you will, in their early years in the 60s by catering to humans with dogs.

Bed blanket: I just couldn’t bring myself to buy a bamboo blanket/bedspread that costs in the $275 neighborhood when the dogs will be spending at least as much time on it as we will spend under it. So we went with half cotton/half bamboo for a much more reasonable price. The temps here are warm by the thermometer but the air is heavy with humidity (100% yesterday and that doesn’t necessarily mean rain), so when the fans blow it around it can be pretty damn chilly. And the dogs steal the covers.

Clothing: if I need new clothing I will consider bamboo but it’s damned expensive. I was shopping for a second bathing suit recently because I’m at the beach often enough that I need a suit to wear while the other one is drying or waiting to be laundered free of all the salt and sand that didn’t wind up in my ass or under my tits. I always thought that sand-in-uncomfortable-places was a joke, I was very wrong. I spent two hours searching for bamboo or other plant-based sustainable fabric or recycled fabric and found nothing under a hundred bucks. Nothing. Not even a thong bikini (I already have sand up my ass, I don’t need material there as well). I’m not lounging instagrammatically on Waikiki, I’m swimming in 5+ foot surf every weekend at least, so I am not willing to pay that much for a suit intended for plenty of use and punishment. I got a bikini because it will be easier to discreetly rinse most of the sand away before going back up the beach, if you know what I mean and I think you do.

#hippie #eco friendly #zero waste

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funnylori · 4 years

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Baking alchemy: if the recipe says use a pan, use metal; if the recipe calls for a dish, use ceramic or glass. Otherwise you may need to adjust baking times and temperatures to get an even bake.

For example, my bread pans are glass, and that's why the inside of my banana bread is crazy moist (ie almost underbaked) and the outside is so browned. Though, using glass for pies instead of the recommended metal pans is handy if you're new to pastry. It will help you see when the bottom of your pie is truly baked. It can be dangerous to check the bottom of hot pies, so use the buddy system. Don't be spilling hot pie filling all over yourselves.

Also, know your oven. Get an analog oven thermometer and leave it in there. I used to have one I'd hang from the center rack so I had a good idea of how it was doing. My oven is hella slow on a good day. I think the element needs maintenance.

I like to use chocolate chip cookies as my gauge of how an oven is heating. The time it takes them to be perfectly baked is what I keep in mind for everything else. Normally the recipe I use says it should take 9 minutes to bake but they are still raw then. It takes my oven 12 minutes to get them browned on the edges and still have just baked but still gooey soft centers. If you're not confident about your mixing skills using store bought dough is totally okay! It's honestly easier to check temperature with dough you know is consistently made.

☆☆☆WRITE NOTES DIRECTLY IN YOUR COOKBOOK☆☆☆

You'll learn new things every time you make something. Adjustments you like. Things that work or don't work. You'll 100% forget what those are at some point and then be frustrated. Also, use bookmarks like little sticky note tabs to help you find your favorites.

Anyway, I'm making a rhubarb pie for my dad because tomorrow is his birthday. I'm not sure how I'm gonna deliver the pie to my dad safely, but that's another story. But I make pretty good pie crusts because I use my dad's recipe. It's flakey, tender, and tastes good. I hate chewy or though crusts. My dad mixes his dough so gently it's often not strong enough to actually get a slice of pie out of the pan in one piece. It tastes so good we don't care. I like to mix mine just a touch longer so it holds up better, but it's really easy to over mix it and make a tough crust.

Tonight my husband was chatting about how one of his friends was getting help making pastry for crusts via zoom meetings. He said I should make a video of mine and share it. Maybe I will if people are intrested. I can do the fancy way and the bare bones no special tools way. I like to bake and I like to make things accessible to everybody. I still wrote it out for him, you can have it too.

If you have read this far my perfect pie crust recipe is 3 parts flour to 1 part fat and a pinch of salt.

For me that's usually 2 cups all purpose flour and 2/3rds cup shortening for a single crust in my pyrex 9.5 inch glass pie pan with a little extra left over for decorating. Fruit pies need a top crust or lattice so in that case I'd use 3 cups flour and 1 cup shortening.

Blend the fat with the flour in a bowl. I use a pastry blender cutter thing (not the kind that are a bunch of round wires with a handle, but the kind that's more metal with flat blades like this one). You can also use a couple of butterknives for this. Use a twisting motion with the pastry blender to cut the fat into the flour until it's combined into about pea sized chunks. I like to scrape the blender with a knife or fork every few turns. Don't over work it or it will get tough! You want the chunks, it'll become flakey bits. There will still be some finer bits that are more flour.

Stir in ice cold water a couple tablespoons at a time until things just start coming together. Like, be cautious with the water and use a fork to combine it with the dough with kind of a whisking motion to moisten the dry flour bits and get them sticking to the floury fat bits. How much water you need varies with the weather and humidity. Definitely don't get the dough too wet. If it gets sticky you've gone too far. You only need enough water to get it all to just come together into a ball. Once it starts coming together you'll see it's kinda shaggy, that's your flakes! Gently push it together into a ball and flatten into a puck or disk. Push the edges together so it rolls out evenly later. Don't knead the dough! If it's not staying together maybe give it one or two light kneading turns in the bowl but no more or you'll get a tough crust. If it's warm or a hot day, wrap the dough in plastic and put it in the fridge for a bit. Keeping the fat cold keeps the flakes.

When you're ready, generously flour a flat surface and roll it out. If you're worried about picking it up to put it in a pan, roll the crust out in between two floured sheets of waxed paper. Beware that it'll totally still stick to the waxed paper if you aren't careful to keep checking that it's floured enough while rolling it out. I have a fancy silicone mat I got to put on my table when I roll out crusts, but it's honestly a pain in the ass and stuff still sticks if there isn't enough flour.

For sizing, hold your pie pan upside down over the crust and roll at least two inches wider than that. Drape the crust into the pie pan, don't stretch it. Lift the sides and ease it into the bottom. Wrap it a little bit over the edge of the pan and trim the excess. This recipe has a habit of shrinking in the pan, so having a bit extra around the edges helps keep it in place. Prick all over with a fork if blind baking / baking it empty, and bake at 425°F until golden brown, which is probably around 15 minutes.

For my fat I always always use butter flavored vegetable shortening such as crisco*. It tastes good and works consistently well. Butter is sometimes used, so is lard. They have different water contents and work differently so experiment with them before expecting them to work with my recipe. Shortening is solid and works good at room temperature. Butter should be worked colder and has water in it which changes how bakes turn out. I've never tried making a butter or lard for crust myself though.

My mom always made us a treat with the extra crust bits cut off from the pie pan. She'd put the funky strips on a cookie sheet and dust them with cinnamon and sugar and bake it them for us. Usually she'd forget to pull them out until we could smell them burning around the edges.

*when trans fats were banned because they're truly awful for the body, the formulation of vegetable shortening changed to include palm oil, which is so so bad for the environment and deforestation destroying orangutan habitat. It might be option for crusts, but it can have ethical issues as well. Check your ingredients and where they come from. Bob's Red Mill has an article on shortening, what it is, why you want to use it for crusts, and what it can be made of.

Anyway, I love pies and have strong feelings about crusts that goes quite deep. I can keep going, if y'all wanna know more about anything. Lemme know if you want directions to good videos or if I should make one myself. I'll post a picture of the pie tomorrow once it's set and we cut into it.

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anonsally · 4 years

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Days 55-58 of COVID-19 shelter-in-place

I am having a hard time keeping up.

Day 55 was Mother’s Day. Wife baked banana bread! (which is sort of a big deal because she used to bake all the time but has not baked in at least a year due to feeling overwhelmed...) It turned out very nicely--though really it was more of a banana cake baked in a brownie pan, rather than a loaf pan. I picked some flowers from our garden and we wrote a card and then drove over to my parents�� house. We spent maybe 90 minutes or so hanging out in the backyard with my parents, seated a safe distance apart. My mother liked the flowers and the banana bread, and it was lovely to spend some time together--but the weather was much hotter than I was expecting. My brother also called (video call) and so we all got to chat with him, too.

We went home in time for my dance class, which was fun. (My mom took the class too!) I did one really good inversion (handstand) in which my hips got all the way over my hands! That’s something I only achieve once every few months, even though most of my dance classes have inversions. So I was pleased with myself.

I managed to do some Adulting as well, so all in all it was a good day.

Day 56: Although it was sunny when I woke up, it clouded over and got very cold, and it rained much of the afternoon. Rain. In May. We were all outraged--that’s totally against the rules in California.

Work was okay--we had our group meeting, and various people gradually dropped out of it as we finished discussing projects they’re involved in, until there were only 4 of us left. We had a funny video-meeting experience: when one of the 4 left, my coworker said “Did you see that?! Someone walked across behind him! At his house! I think it was a woman! He must have a girlfriend!” I was very disappointed that I hadn’t noticed, and then our boss said “Oh, yeah, she moved out there with him when he left here, she lived in Marin” and we were gobsmacked... how did our boss know this when we did not?! how did we not know he had a girlfriend when he was still living here?! (In fact, he had mentioned his “friend in Marin” many times, but we had all assumed it was a dude, not a woman he was romantically involved with!) Anyway, after my boss left the meeting, the coworker and I caught up a bit--the first time we’d spoken one-on-one since the shelter-in-place started, so that was nice. And then we made some progress on a work thing.

Later, I had a video coffee break with @llamapunk, who enjoyed the gossip. But she also told me that a guy who I vaguely knew at work had had a bike accident and is unconscious in the hospital.

After work, I talked to a dance friend who told me she’d been contacted by a woman we had been friendly with a few years ago when she was coming to dance classes, who has lost her husband to COVID-19. He was in his early 40s, I think, and had no underlying conditions, so it’s really shocking in addition to being tragic, and the poor woman is having to deal with this grief (and not having been able to be at his side in the hospital or even to visit him at all) during a lockdown so she can’t get emotional support from people who are physically there. They didn’t have any kids and weren’t living with anyone else. It’s really heartbreaking.

I didn’t leave the house that day--the weather was too terrible--but I did do a lot of Adulting. Maybe hearing about all these tragic things made me need to feel a bit more in control of my surroundings.

Day 57: Dance class in the morning! It wasn’t very strenuous, though. But starting next week, it will be 15 minutes longer, so that might help. In the early afternoon, Wife and I drove to downtown near my office--Wife was dropping off a computer for repair, and we picked up lunch at the taco place where I normally buy lunch at least a couple times per week. TACOS! We came home and ate and I was SO happy!!

Wife had a job interview. It went well and she has her second one with the same company on Friday morning. Fingers crossed!

We did a bunch of Adulting. I took a very short walk after work, during which I think I saw another spotted towhee. I stopped at Trader Joe’s on my way home and managed to buy some facial tissue!

In the evening, Wife finally finished Breath of the Wild! I’m not sure what game is next, but she won’t start till at least Friday, because tomorrow is her D&D night.

Day 58: I have been going to bed ridiculously late pretty much every day. So it was a struggle to get up this morning for ballet. But I did it. Ballet class was hard work. I think by the end of this shelter-in-place, I will be stronger, but probably less fit in the cardiovascular/aerobic sense.

Afterwards, I did some long overdue scrubbing of the shower, and then after lunch I went grocery shopping for my parents. I’m not sure why it was more difficult today than it has been in past weeks, though. The parking lot was a zoo, even though in past weeks there were always spaces available. Lots of people had parked badly, making it difficult to get in and out. Then it was sort of drizzling while I waited in line. Inside the store, it was a bit crowded, though perhaps no worse than usual. But when I left, it was out-and-out raining. Which, again. It’s May. I was not dressed for rain.

Still, I had a nice chat with my dad when I dropped off his groceries, and I had bought some very pretty sunflowers to bring home.

When I got back, I had a very late start to my workday and did not get very much done. However, a college friend of mine introduced me over email to a science journalist who wanted help interpreting his county’s benchmarks for reopening. So I spent some time looking at the county’s website about it and trying to explain it.

I took a leisurely walk after work, and saw some nice gardens and flowers, plus an Anna’s hummingbird, a crow hassling a bird of prey, and a very cute floofy puppy.

Wife had ordered some clippers, which finally arrived today. So she cut her own hair! It doesn’t look too bad. The back is a bit of a mess, but that won’t matter for a video call!

I am very fortunate that I happened to get my hair cut just 3 days before the shelter-in-place started. I normally get a haircut approximately every 6 weeks, so it’s definitely getting a bit shaggy, but I don’t think I would dare try to cut it myself... even though it might be a long wait for the day I can return to my hairdresser. Well, we’ll see how bad it gets. I hate how I look with long hair, but it’s only barely at the bottom of my ears now.

Stay safe, everyone.

#personal #birdwatching #sunflower #epidemiology #food #even though there is no picture of food here #tacos #tagging food posts because ramadan

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burgers-and-french-fries · 5 years

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Sunsets & Whiskey Kisses: Chapter Thirty Two.

For the cover photo, please picture a cast on his right arm.

(I hope it’s ok but I took this picture from @taronunwin I needed something hospital like with Taron and I knew I could rely on them for that. Sorry!)

You may want to grab the tissues for this chapter because trust me when I say that it will tug at your heart strings and most likely make you cry. Don’t say that I didn’t warn you.

Hope you enjoy!

===

"So remind me again why you have to help him with this?" Ryleigh whined as she sat at the table feeding Anna. "Because I told him I would." Jack replied as he rinsed out his coffee cup. Anna waved at him and accepted another spoonful of mashed banana and peaches. Jack walked over to his daughter and kissed her sticky cheek. "You look after mama today ok?" Jack asked.

"Mama." Anna replied seriously as if she understood what her father was trying to say. "Good girl." He said as he kissed her cheek again causing her to giggle this time. "It's like she knows what you're saying." Ryleigh said and Jack chuckled. "Of course she knows what I'm saying." He whispered as he kissed Ryleigh's lips softly. "I love you so much baby. Please be careful ok." Ryleigh said once the kiss was broken. "I love you too my darling." Jack replied as he went to put his boots on. "I'll see you two later." He said before he walked out of the front door. Ryleigh smiled to herself as she continued to feed the baby.

Jack walked back through the door and laughed. "What?" Ryleigh asked as she wiped Anna's face off now that she was done her fruit. "I forgot my keys." He said as he walked over to his girls. He kissed Ryleigh deeply and then turned to Anna. He kissed both her cheeks and she giggled. "Don't worry about dinner. I'll pick something up on my home." Jack said and Ryleigh nodded. "I love you." Ryleigh said as they all walked to the front door. "I love you too." He called as Ryleigh and Anna watched him get into the truck. They waved to him when he drove away. "Shall we go for a walk?" Ryleigh asked as they stood in the open doorway. Anna nodded and Ryleigh smiled. "You really do know what we're saying don't you." Ryleigh said and Anna smiled cheekily at her mother. "Come on sweet pea, let's get dressed and we can head to the park or something." Ryleigh said as they walked upstairs.

Ryleigh got Anna dressed and when she was happy with how her daughter looked, she picked the baby up and went to get dressed herself.

(What Anna is dressed in)

The mother pulled on a pair of shorts and put on one of her husband's long sleeved shirts before tying her hair up in a high ponytail. "Ok sweet pea. Let's go." Ryleigh said as she placed Anna on her hip. They walked downstairs and Ryleigh grabbed some snacks and put them in the diaper bag and then put Anna in her stroller. They left for the park down the road. When they got there, Ryleigh picked Anna up and sat on a swing with the baby in her lap. Anna giggled every time they would swing forward a little. Ryleigh loved the sound so much that she got off the swing and placed Anna in a baby swing and stood in front of her so that she could see the happiness on the baby's face. "Hi." Ryleigh cooed when Anna swung forward. Anna laughed and so did Ryleigh. The mother did that with her daughter for a little longer before she decided that it was time to move on to feeding the ducks. Ryleigh had taken a small bag of bread crumbs with her for the very purpose of feeding the animals, since Anna had had taken a liking to ducks as they were frequent visitors at their house.

They stopped at a park bench and Ryleigh sat down after grabbing the bread crumbs. Anna squealed in excitement when the ducks came closer to them. "Can you say duck?" Ryleigh asked as she tossed some bread on the ground. "Here." Ryleigh said as she opened the baby's hand and gave her some bread so Anna could feed the ducks. "Ok, now go like this." Ryleigh said as she guided Anna's hand and helped her toss the bread to the ducks. Anna gasped when the waddled toward her. She flapped her arms happily, making Ryleigh laugh. The birds squawked and Anna got frustrated that were leaving. "Stop flapping then." Ryleigh said through a chuckle. Anna kept flapping and making herself frustrated to the point that she made herself cry. "I think it's time for your nap." The mother said as she stood up and put the bread away and walked in the direction of home and by the time they got home, Anna was snoring quite loudly and her small head was lulled to the side. Her heart shaped sunglasses were tipped to the side and her soother was practically hanging out of her mouth. Ryleigh smiled and took a photo of her to show Jack when he got home. Ryleigh put her phone back in her pocket and picked the infant up slowly in the hopes that she would stay sleeping. Thankfully Anna was in deep sleep. Ryleigh managed to put the baby down for her nap successfully.

Once she was down, Ryleigh grabbed the baby monitor and walked to the kitchen to make herself some lunch. She threw together a salad consisting of the leftover veggies they had. She took her food and went to sit on the sofa while she watched wife swap.

"Alright, I'll get the horses saddled up if you want to take a quick break." Chase said and Jack nodded. He ran over to the house. "Where's the fire?" Dakota laughed as Jack ran through the door. "I have to pee." He shouted and Dakota laughed louder. She turned attention back to the book she was reading. When Jack was done, he walked to the kitchen and chugged a couple glasses of water. "You keep doing that and you'll have to pee again." Dakota said, not looking up from her book. Jack rolled his eyes. "Well, we're going to check on the cattle and we'll probably gone for a while." He replied and Dakota nodded. "Be careful." Dakota warned. "I will. I love you." He said as he kissed her cheek. "Love you too." She replied with a warm smile. She heard the door shut and that's when her son called for her. She closed her book and went to get him up from his nap.

"Hello my sweet boy. Did you have a good nap?" She asked and Joshua nodded. "That's good. Let's go have lunch." Dakota replied and walked to the kitchen. She placed the boy in his booster seat and warmed up some spaghetti they had for dinner the previous night. Once it was heated, she brought it over and gave it to him. Joshua lapped it up and as he ate, he would close his eyes. Dakota chuckled every time he did that. He looked so cute when he did that. "Was that good?" The mother asked when the boy pushed his bowl further away from himself. "Ok." he said and Dakota nodded, taking note of how much food he had smeared on his tray, shirt and face. "Let's get you cleaned up and then we can play." Dakota said as she got up and cleaned up. When everything was all clean, Dakota and Joshua walked over to the playmat in the corner and sat down to play with the cars and building blocks the little boy had.

"Careful honey." Dakota said as the little boy threatened to knock her tower over. He pushed it with his index finger and he laughed at the crashing sound it made. "Hey, that was my tower mate." Dakota whined and the boy laughed even harder. Dakota joined in and together, they built a bigger one. They repeated the process of building a tower and Joshua knocking it over again. "You little beggar." Dakota laughed as Joshua catapulted himself on his mother. His arms wrapping around her neck. "I love you my sweet boy." She said as she kissed his blonde hair. "Love mama." He replied and Dakota smiled.

Just as she stood up to put Joshua down for his second nap, her phone rang. She saw Chase's name on the screen and she grew nervous. "Hi babe." She said as cheerfully as she could but she knew that something was wrong. "Call mum or grace to watch Joshua. I've called an ambulance." He said firmly and she gulped. "What happened Chase?" She demanded. Chase took a deep breath. "It's Jack." He said simply and Dakota dropped the phone. She felt her heart drop to her stomach. He promised he'd be ok. He lied. Dakota picked up her phone and told Chase she would. They hung up and she frantically called Carol.

"Dakota, what's wrong honey?" The woman asked when she heard Dakota choke out a sob. "I n-need you to watch Jo-Joshua p-please." Dakota stuttered through her tears. "I'll be right there. Hang tight sweetheart." Carol said as she hung up and grabbed her keys, rushing to the farm. When she got there, she saw an ambulance speed out of the driveway. She parked her car and hurried inside. She saw her son holding Joshua who was crying. "Honey what happened?' She asked as she took her grandson into her arms. Joshua cried into her shoulder. "Jack was helping me with the cattle and his horse got spooked and threw him to the ground. He smacked his head hard, knocking himself unconscious. They aren't sure if he's injured anything else." Chase explained as the guilt surfaced in the form of tears. "Dakota went with him?" Carol asked and Chase nodded. "It's not your fault son. He'll be ok." Carol said as she hugged her son with her free arm.

Meanwhile back at the lake house, Ryleigh was staring down at a positive pregnancy test. She held Anna close to her and laughed nervously. "You're going to have a brother or a sister." Ryleigh said as Anna stared at her. "You're going to be the best big sister." She continued as she kissed Anna's forehead. Anna gave her a cheesy smile. "We have to tell daddy when he comes home." Ryleigh said just as her phone rang. She didn't recognize the number. The mother put Anna on the bed in her and Jack's room and answered the phone. "Hello?" Ryleigh asked and the person on the other line cleared their throat. "I'm looking for Ryleigh Mason?" The person questioned and Ryleigh rolled her eyes, thinking it was a spam call. "This is she. Can I ask what this is about?" She asked in reply. "This is the Jasper Matter Hospital. We have a patient here by the name of Jackson Mason." The person said and Ryleigh's knees gave out. She felt her heart plummet to her stomach and her stomach fall to her butt. Her breath left her body as the person explained what happened. Ryleigh thanked them before hanging up and cried her eyes out. Anna looked at her mother with confusion. Ryleigh picked Anna up and held her close. Anna squawked in protest but stopped when she realized that her mother wasn't going to let go.

Eventually Ryleigh found the strength to stand and she raced downstairs with Anna and jumped into the car. She drove to her mother's house, thinking of everything that had taken place that day. Here she found out she was pregnant and now Jack was in a coma. She wasn't sure what she was going to tell her mother. She didn't really have time to think about it because she pulled into the driveway. Ryleigh took Anna out of the car and rushed to the front door. Ryleigh knocked frantically and Grace opened the door to see her daughter's tear stained face and confused granddaughter. "Honey what's wrong?" Grace asked and Ryleigh just handed Anna over. Ryleigh shook her head and rushed back to the car. "I'll explain later." Ryleigh managed to call out before speeding out of the driveway. Grace stood there just as confused as Anna. "What happened little lady?" Grace tried to ask but didn't get a response. She shrugged and walked inside. She turned the tv on to the kids channel and watched bear in the big blue house with Anna.

Ryleigh pulled up to the hospital and ran inside. "Jackson Mason?" She asked breathlessly. "I'm sorry, only family is allowed back there." The lady at the desk replied. "I'm his wife and his emergency contact. Please just tell me where my husband is." Ryleigh said shortly and the lady let her by. Ryleigh ran through the halls and finally found his room. She barged through the door scaring Dakota. "What the fuck happened?" Ryleigh shouted. Dakota looked at her. "What did they tell you on the phone?" Dakota asked. Ryleigh told her what they had said and Dakota nodded. "They won't know anything else until he wakes up and don't know if he will. he hit his head harder than they thought." Dakota explained and Ryleigh broke down crying. She fell to the ground as Dakota wrapped her arms around her. Dakota rocked Ryleigh back and forth as she cried and eventually Ryleigh calmed down.

"Do you want me to give you a minute? I could really use a coffee." Dakota asked and Ryleigh nodded. "Can you call mom and tell her what happened? I basically threw Anna at her and left with hardly any word." Ryleigh said Dakota smiled. "Of course. Call me if anything happens." She said and Ryleigh nodded. Dakota left the room and Ryleigh turned her attention to her husband. her eyes landing on all of the tubes and wires attached to him. His head split and stitched at his hairline. His right arm in a cast and a brace around his neck. Ryleigh felt her tears spill once more as she sat beside him and held on to his left hand. "You're an idiot." Ryleigh chuckled, hoping that he would open his eyes and tell her that she was right. He didn't. She just sat there rubbing the back of his hand with her thumb as she hummed a random tune in her head. "Baby, if you can hear me. Please squeeze my hand." She said as she waited for a couple seconds. He didn't move and Ryleigh's shoulders slump forward in defeat. "Please wake up." Ryleigh said as she sobbed again. She didn't know what else to do.

Ryleigh was there for a while running her fingers lightly through Jack's hair. She suddenly missed the way he would lean into her touch when she would do that and right now, she would give anything to feel that again. "Mama." Anna said as she and Grace stood in the doorway of Jack's room. Ryleigh smiled and the tears pooled in her eyes again as her mother embraced her. "Oh my darling. I'm so sorry." Grace said. "I'm pregnant." Ryleigh sobbed into her mother's shoulder. "My sweet girl." Grace said as she hugged her daughter as tight as she could. "I don't want to loose him mom. I can't raise two kids on my own." Ryleigh said and Grace nodded. "You won't loose him and if you did, you wouldn't be alone. Chase, Dakota and I are here for you and I know that there are others out there that would help." Grace replied and Ryleigh shook her head in disagreement. "Ryleigh, I had to do it until your father came along." Grace admitted and Ryleigh looked at her with surprise. "What?" She stuttered out. "It's a long story. One I can tell you one day but today is not the day." Grace said and Ryleigh nodded. "Promise you'll tell me." Ryleigh said and Grace nodded.

Anna was tired of being held and being ignored. She grunted in annoyance as she reached for her mother. Ryleigh took her and kissed her cheek. "I'm sorry sweet pea." Ryleigh said as she went to go sit down again. The mother leaned back in her chair and sat Anna in her lap. Anna tilted her head back and looked up at her mother. "Dada." Anna said with a curious tone. "Dada is, Dada is sleeping." Ryleigh said as she sighed sadly. Grace smiled sadly at her daughter. Anna leaned forward and tried to climb on to the bed. "No baby. Let daddy sleep." Ryleigh more harsher than she wanted. Anna frowned at her and tried again. This time she succeeded. She laid her head on Jack's blanket covered belly and pat him. "Can you give me a minute." Ryleigh said quickly as she stood up and left the room. Grace went over to where Ryleigh was incase Anna fell.

Ryleigh slid down the nearest wall and cried again. The scene of Anna laying her head on her father and patting him pulling at her heart strings. Her whole body ached as thought of not waking up to him played in her head. "Ryleigh?" Dakota asked when she walked toward the woman. Ryleigh looked up at her and wiped her tears away. Before Ryleigh could say anything, an alarm went off in his room. Both woman jumped up as they knew what that meant. Nurses came running in and ushered Grace and Anna out of the room. Ryleigh tried to fight to get in there but they wouldn't let her. "Please." She screamed but the male nurse wasn't having it. "You have to wait out there." He said firmly and Ryleigh fell to the ground as she hyperventilated. Dakota and Grace watched the scene through their tears. "Dada." Anna said and grace rubbed her back.

Ryleigh couldn't stand it anymore and she ran out of the building. When she got outside she sat on the stairs and cried into her hands. The feelings of loosing her father returned. "Daddy, if you can hear me, please send him back to me. Anna needs him. I need him." Ryleigh said as her body was wracked with sobs. "Please, please don't take him." Ryleigh begged over and over until Dakota walked out to her. Ryleigh looked at her and when she saw the look on the woman's face, her heart fell. "Please tell me that I still have a husband." Ryleigh said softly and Dakota sat beside her. "It's not looking good Ryleigh." She said and Ryleigh laid her head on Dakota's shoulder. "I talked to Chase about postponing the wedding and we both agreed to wait." Dakota admitted and Ryleigh shook her head. "He wouldn't want that." Ryleigh replied when her tears stopped coming so quickly. "I want him to walk me down the aisle." Dakota said and Ryleigh smiled. "I know he'd love that." Ryleigh said. The women talked for a few more minutes before they walked back inside.

"I think I'm going to take this one home." Grace said as she motioned to her granddaughter who was sound asleep while resting her head on her father's chest. Ryleigh tried not to cry as she nodded. "I'll keep her as long as you need. I can even stay at your place so that she can sleep in her own bed." Grace offered and Ryleigh hugged her. Ryleigh broke the hug and went to kiss her daughter's head. "They really look like each other." Ryleigh whispered to her mother and sister-in-law. "Oh they definitely. There is no mistaking who her daddy is." Dakota said as she smiled. As much as it pained her, Ryleigh took a picture at how cute it was to see just how attached Anna was to her daddy. Ryleigh picked the baby up and handed her to Grace. All of them saying their goodbyes. Ryleigh watched them leave before she sat back down and took her husband's left hand in hers. "Visiting hours are over." A nurse said as she shook Ryleigh awake. "Please don't make me leave." Ryleigh whispered as she felt the tears well up again. The lady smiled and allowed Ryleigh to stay. Ryleigh thanked her and turned back to her husband.

A week had passed and still Jack had not woken up. Ryleigh hadn't left his side. She tried to hold it together but as the days passed, it proved to be difficult. It was time to decide what would happen next. Ryleigh didn't want to admit that she didn't want to put through anymore pain. She knew she had to let him go and that thought scared her. She didn't want to live life without him. She wanted him to be here to meet their new baby, to help her raise him or her. She wanted him to walk Dakota down the aisle and do the same for Anna on her wedding day. There was so much she wanted to do but she knew now that it was just not going to happen.

The day they were going to pull the plug, Ryleigh had asked Grace if she could have time with Anna and Jack so that both her and Anna could say goodbye to him. Ryleigh laid Anna on his chest and played their wedding song. Ryleigh let her tears fall as she laid hr head on Jack's shoulder and ran her thumb over Anna's small cheek. Anna's little lip jutted out and she started to cry. She knew what was happening. She could sense the seriousness of the situation. "It's ok sweet pea. Daddy's not going to hurt anymore. We'll be ok." Ryleigh said softly as she tried to convince herself that everything would be ok. Anna hid he face in Jack's chest and Ryleigh couldn't blame her. Jack was their world and life without him would never be the same. Ryleigh lifted her head and kissed as close to his mouth as she could. "I love you so much baby." She said through her tears. "You can let go now." She said as she laid her head back on his shoulder. She kissed the mole on his neck and buried her face in his chest and breathed him in one last time. All of their memories flooding her mind.

A nurse came in and smiled sadly at the sight before her. Anna and Ryleigh clinging on to Jack for dear life. She walked over to the machines to get them ready to be turned off. Jack picked that moment to open his eyes. The nurse smiled and carefully removed the breathing tube without disturbing the women. Jack smiled at her after she was done and she assured him that she would be back to take care of things. "I love you too." Jack rasped out and both girls snapped their heads up. Ryleigh kissed him deeply and hugged him. "Dada." Anna shouted as a smile pulled at her lips. "Hi sweet pea." He crocked once Ryleigh reluctantly broke the kiss. Anna giggled and hid her face in his chest. "I fucking hate you Jackson." Ryleigh said with a warm smile. "I'm sorry baby." He whispered as he let his tears fall. "It's not your fault. I'm just glad you're awake. I was afraid we were going to loose you." She replied and he shook his head as best he could. "Never. I love you too much to put you through that." He said and Ryleigh smiled sadly. "You almost did Jack." She said as she kissed him again. The three, almost four, of them cuddling and enjoying the time they were together.

A few hours later, Jack and Anna were asleep and Chase, Dakota, Joshua, Grace, both sets of Dakota and grandparents and Carol were at the hospital to say goodbye or so they thought. When they walked into the room, they saw Jack holding Anna securely with his left arm and Ryleigh smiled at them. "When the hell did he wake up?" Richard asked with shock. "A few hours ago. We just wanted to be with him." Ryleigh replied and everyone nodded in understanding. "How is he?" Dakota asked. "The doctor said that he'll have to be in here for a few more weeks but other than that, he's in good spirits." She explained and Jack stirred. He slowly opened his eyes and thought it'd be funny to prank them all. "Who are you?" He asked with confusion and Ryleigh looked at him and saw the cheeky glint in his eyes. She played along. "What do you mean who are we? You were fine a few hours ago." Ryleigh said as she made herself cry. Anna woke up and looked up at him. She smiled at him and he didn't respond. It broke his heart not to respond but he knew if he reacted to it, it would blow his cover. He gave his daughter a look she had never seen before but her little heart broke. The tears grew in her eyes and her chin wobbled as her lip jutted out. She closed her eyes and let out a sob. Jack couldn't do it anymore and wrapped his arm back around her little body that was now shaking as she cried. "It's ok. Daddy's ok." He said as he tried to calm her down but she cried harder. "You're such a prick." Dakota said as the tears grew in her eyes as well. She walked out of the room with Joshua in her arms.

Jack pulling that, really broke Dakota's heart. She really though that something happened to him and she really didn't need that. Chase joined her in the hall. He saw her crying and Joshua looking confused. He took his son and fiancé into his arms and hugged them tightly. "It's ok my darling." He said as he tried to comfort them. Dakota cried into his chest and Joshua pat the top of her head as he tried to help as well. "How could he do that to me? I thought I lost him just like my parents and he pulls that on me." Dakota said and Chase nodded. "Yay ok?" Joshua asked and Dakota nodded as she wiped her tears away. The three of them walking back into the room. "I'm sorry Dakota." Jack said and she smiled shortly. She was still mad at him and rightfully so. "Can I have a minute with Dakota?" Jack asked and everyone left but he refused to let go of Anna. The little girl laid her head on his chest and fell back to sleep.

" What do you want?" She snapped at him. "I'm sorry Dakota. I didn't mean to upset you." He said and she looked at him. "I wasn't the only you made cry with your stupid joke." Dakota snapped and he nodded. "I know and I'm sorry. I didn't think it through." He said and she angrily wiped her tears away. "Come here." He said and Dakota sat next to him before hiding her face in his neck and continuing to cry. He let her cry because he could tell that she needed to. "I thought I lost you like we lost mom and dad." Dakota admitted as her tears stilled. "I'm still here care bear." He replied and she nodded. "You pulling that really hurt me you know." She said as she sat up and wiped the remaining tears away. "I'm sorry." He whispered and she smiled genuinely this time. "Chase and I are postponing the wedding till you are better and can travel." She said and he shook his head. "Dakota, don't do that." He replied and she smiled wider. "I want you to walk me down the aisle." She said and he looked at her with tears in his eyes. "Of course I'll walk you down the aisle." He replied proudly. "I love you bumble bee." She said as she kissed his cheek. "I love you too care bear." He said before his eyes started growing heavy. "Want me to get Ryleigh?" She asked and Jack nodded. "Please just tell everyone they can come back later or tomorrow. I just want to be with my girls." Jack said and Dakota nodded.

"Ryleigh, he's asking for you." Dakota said as she walked back to the group of people. "He also asked that we come back later as he wants to be with his girls." Dakota continued. They all left the hospital as Ryleigh walked back into his room. "Hello handsome." She greeted softly as she sat down next to him. "Hello beautiful." He replied as he blinked at her sleepily. She smiled at him. "You wanna know a secret?" Ryleigh asked and he nodded. Ryleigh pulled the positive test out of pocket and handed it to Jack. He looked up at her with tired but wide eyes. "Are you serious?" He asked with hope. "I found out just before you arrived here." Ryleigh explained and Jack smiled. He looked down at Anna. "She going to be the best big sister." Jack said and Ryleigh nodded. "Yes she will." Ryleigh replied as she kissed him deeply, making sure to cop a feel of his tongue with hers. "Get some rest. I'll be here when you wake up." Ryleigh said after she broke the kiss. Jack shook his head. "Make out with me." He said cheekily. Ryleigh chuckled but made out with him, just like he wanted. Both of them savouring the feel of each other. Vowing to never again take anything for granted.

Tag List: @mairyleo @sarahegerton96 @dogmom2014 @rocknrollmadden @jobanan23 @softeggsy @eggsyobsessed @aberystwythboy @superthiccthighssavelives @hauntedflamingo

#Sunsets&WhiskeyKisses #taronegerton #Richard Madden

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a-butterfly-on-his-tummy · 6 years

Photo

Do Not Move the Gucci

A sigh leaves my lips as I walk into the kitchen after a three day work trip in Manchester. Harry had to stay back in London, and it was pretty obvious by the state of our house. My husband changes clothes more than anyone I know, and they don’t stay in our bedroom. The amount of clothing strung around the house would make you think we had a fashion student living in our basement.

Shaking my head, I place my satchel on the table, removing the tee shirt that is thrown over the back of the barstool. Making my way through the living room and office, I pick up the various items of clothing including multiple Gucci shirts, a few from Harris, and an YSL or two.

“These should be hung. Gucci is not cheap.” I sigh under my breath, taking the pile upstairs to our bedroom. Sorting the clothes, I smell each shirt or trouser to see if it is clean or dirty. The stinky articles of clothing go into the laundry basket, while the others that either need to be dry cleaned or are clean get hung in the closet in their designated areas.

I change out of my dress and heels into a pair of baggy sweats and one of Harry’s shirts from his first solo tour. I always feel better when I can have Harry’s face on my naked boobs. After sorting out my clothes from my trip, I make my way downstairs to start something simple for dinner. Harry texts to let me know he is almost home, and my stomach flips at the thought of seeing him again after being away.

Placing the oven on broil, I move to the pantry and pull out some whole grain bread. I place three pieces of bread on a cookie sheet, and I start to slice some cheese, laying two pieces of cheddar on each slice of bread. Opening the oven I move the rack to the highest point and slide in the pan.

In the blender I combine banana, kale, strawberries, Greek yogurt, and ice and begin to blend. Pulsing the appliance I stop and open up the fridge to grab the milk.

“Hey, beautiful.” Harry says, causing me to jump as I didn’t hear him enter the house.

“Baby!” I place the milk on the counter and wrap my arms around his body, squeezing him tighter than a blood pressure pump at the grocery store. “I missed you.” I say into his chest.

“Mmm.” He kisses my head. “I’ve missed you too. Smoothie for dinner?” I can hear the exhaustion in his voice, and I’m secretly hoping for a quiet night together as I am knackered too.

“Yup. And cheese toast.” A bell dings in my head reminding me that I have cheese toast that needs to be checked on. Releasing Harry from my death grip, I rush to the oven, relieved that the cheese on the toast is bubbly and perfect. “Go change. Dinner is almost ready.” I pull out the toast and move to the blender, pouring in a small amount of milk to thin out the mixture.

“Elizabeth?” Harry yells down the stairs. “Can you come here please?” I finish pouring the smoothie into two glass cups before making my way to our bedroom.

“What’s up?” I say to my husband who seems to be frantically searching the closet.

“Where did my purple Gucci shirt go? It was right here and now it’s gone.” Harry huffs, frustrated at the fact that his shirt is not where he left it. “I also need my black loafers and the socks that go along with the outfit. I have press tomorrow, and I have to take that outfit.”

“It’s probably where it belongs,” I say, walking towards our closet to help him find what he is looking for. “Is this it?” The lilac floral Gucci shirt drapes from the hanger; I show it to my husband.

“No. Not that one. Why would you move it? I put it there for a reason,” Harry growls, searching through the dirty clothes basket.

“Excuse me?” I say, frustrated at his attack. “This house was clean when I left; I walked in and it looked like a bomb went off in a designer store. The amount of outfits I found around the house could clothe a third world country.”

“Oh, don’t be dramatic.” Harry scoffs, folding his arms over his chest. His face is scrunched as he breathes heavily through his mouth.

“Dramatic? Pot, meet kettle.” I say, pointing to myself and then to my husband.

“Don’t you dare. Do you understand how much those clothes cost? A lot, Elizabeth. And you lost them.”

“If you put them in the correct place in the first place, we wouldn’t be having this problem.” I remind him, extremely frustrated by his childish behavior.

“They were in the correct place; that’s what I’m saying.” His irritation pours out of his ears like angry steam.

“So being a massive slob is putting things in the correct place? Is that what you are saying? It drives me crazy, Harry. It’s not THAT hard to put things away. Especially clothing that costs thousands of dollars.” I look in his eyes, pouring out my soul as I explain something that really gets on my nerves.

“Well, that’s who I am. A massive slob. You can either deal with it, or I don’t know; you can…” I capture his lips with mine, not allowing him to finish his sentence. As much as I hated the mess, I loved the man. His hands cup my bum, tapping slightly as a clue for me to jump. Bouncing into his arms, I wrap my legs around his waist and kiss him deeper. Our frustration with one another hasn’t left, but has ignited a fire between us that is aggressive and sexy. Our tongues fight back and forth in an effort to gain control.

Harry moves me to the bedroom, laying me on the bed. My shirt is off before I can say hello, and his mouth is on my boob quickly. If there is anything better than a picture of Harry’s face on my naked boobs, it’s his actual face on my naked boobs. His tongue taps on my hard nipple fast and steady, and it makes my core drip with excitement. My body rolls up into his mouth, and he bites down. My skin erupts in goosebumps as he kisses around my chest and suckles my opposite nipple with a hunger that can only be satisfied by taking his fill.

“Oh….. I love you.” I moan as he continues to give my nipples the love they deserve. His hands move to my waistband and pull off my sweats and knickers in one motion.

“On your hands and knees,” Harry demands, and I find it extremely sexy. I crawl to the middle of our bed, holding my body up, ready for my husband. I hear fabric drop to the floor and the bed dips before I jump at the feeling as fingers begin to explore my folds. “So wet for me.” Harry’s voice is like melted chocolate, smooth and sweet.

“Fuck me, Harry.” I whimper, ready and waiting for my husband to take me harder than he ever has. Harry takes his dick in his hand, spreading the precum down his shaft before giving it two solid pumps.

Aligning his body with mine, Harry holds my hips as he connects us like two puzzle pieces. The sliding of his dick against my walls causes me to moan.

“You’re so deep.” I bite my lip as he moves deeper than I thought possible. This position gives him a different angle that I enjoy and may want to explore more often. “Hard, H. I want it hard.” Without responding, Harry pulls back, and thrusts into my body with a powerful push. The feel of him driving into me in such a forceful move creates a feeling unlike anything I have ever experienced.

Pulling back out and thrusting again, he begins to create a steady rhythm which causes me to move along with the beat. His hand snakes around my stomach, landing on my clit. Moving in circles as he continues his plunges, I feel my orgasm start to bloom.

“There… right there…. harder, baby. Give it to me hard.” I encourage, and his pumping becomes stronger. The slap of my ass against his thighs creates a steady beat. “HARRRRRRY!” I scream as the rubbing of my clit becomes so much that I can’t hold it anymore. His thrusts are becoming slightly erratic.

“Are you close? I’m gonna come,” Harry says through clenched teeth, a sign that he is holding on as tightly as possible.

“Let go, Harry. I’m with you.” I say, allowing my orgasm to explode while Harry paints my walls with his seed. The tingles that erupt over my body bring me nothing but bliss.

“Damn,” Harry says as he attempts to calm his breathing. When he pulls out of me, I collapse to the bed, breathing hard as I wipe the sweat from my forehead. Harry runs to the bathroom, returning with a towel, handing it to me so I can wipe up the mess we created together.

Curling into my side, I feel Harry’s lips against my neck, kissing me softly multiple times.

“I’m sorry, darling.” Harry apologizes. “Had a rough day, and I missed you. Didn’t mean to blow up.” I turn in his arms, wanting to see his face.

“Hey, I love you. Messy boy and all. I didn’t mean to move your stuff. I promise to ask next time. I’m sorry I got upset.” I say before kissing his lips. Sucking his bottom lip into my mouth, I release it, causing Harry to smile, allowing his dimple to flash, instantly melting me into a puddle.

“And I love you. Neat freak girl and all. I promise to hang up the important clothes next time.” Harry scrunches his nose before rubbing it against mine. “Should we get dressed? Go have some cheese toast?”

“Oh yes!! And strawberry kale smoothies! I’m thinking movie night?” I say, quirking my eyebrow a little.

“Cuddles?” He asks, knowing the way to my heart. I nod my head yes before taking his mouth in mine once more. Sharing a kiss that is full of forgiveness, understanding and love.

A/N: To @whoopsharrystyles My Jeffrey, my bestie, my Lorelei. I love you and I am so thankful for you and all you do for me. Thank you for helping me make this family happen.

Read NOW on Wattpad!!!

#Let's chat #did you know that Grace is almost a year old #I cannot believe ive been writing that long #The adventures of Harry and me #Do not move the gucci #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagines #harry styles imagine #harry #married harry #harry smut #harry styles smut #smut #orginal writing #harry styles series

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deathsdeserters · 6 years

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“⇷” -sev

“No…that is not breakfast.”

“Yes it is!” The little girl, with freshly washed face and freshly brushed milk teeth, grinned at her father, holding a piece of banana bread in her chubby hands.

“Yes it is!” repeated her twin brother, mimicking her in pose and tone as his father struggled to finish washing the boy’s face.

Their father weakly laughed, a hapless sound, and made a face in the direction of the kitchen. “Carryl…” he whined, glowing blue eyes begging his wife for help.

She walked out into the small breakfast area to see her twins beaming up at her, both already having taken bites out of their slices of banana bread, crumbs on their round cheeks, their father barefoot and on one knee, practically despondent. He held the damp washcloth in one hand and looked at her with his bottom lip stuck out in a pout.

“You’re as bad as they are,” she laughed, holding her belly. Carryl was eight months pregnant and their third child was hanging low and being very active this day. “Banana bread is fine for breakfast,” she said to the children, who giggled. “Joris, Sigrid, sit at the table, please. And as for you,” she smirked at her husband, “where are your shoes?”

He stood and wrapped his arms around her, kissing her on the forehead. “They bamboozled me before I could finish getting dressed.”

“Bamboozled? Are Corsairs allowed to be bamboozled, Captain Ynn?”

“Yes, Major Ynn, but only by their children. Ouch,” he said, as he felt a kick. “Feisty today.”

“I think she wants some banana bread.”

He pulled back slightly, his eyes wide. “She?”

Carryl stared back at him, white eyebrows arching above her yellow eyes. “Or he. Or they. Don’t worry, Darys, I didn’t check, it’s still going to be a surprise, like we agreed.”

Darys sighed with relief and smiled at her. “I’m sorry, it’s just— being sent TDY so close to your due date…I mean, I know better. I know you wouldn’t…I’m sorry, Carryl.” He hugged her, careful not to do so too tightly, and gave her a gentle kiss on the lips. “I’m sorry,” he said again, his voice soft.

“Eew!” came a chorus of small voices, followed by giggles.

Darys rolled his eyes at his wife and turned to stalk over to the table, creeping over in an over dramatic pantomime fashion, like he was a monster on stage. “What do you mean eew?” he said in a gruff voice, hands over his head, eyes wide.

Both toddlers erupted into peals of laughter and clapping, with their father menacing them and stealing bites of their breakfast while tickling them. Their mother sliced more pieces of banana bread for the threesome and poured milk for the children and coffee for her husband, making tea for herself.

The Ynn family sat at breakfast, the twins talking about what they were looking forward to at pre-school that day, asking their father how long he would be deployed, their mother explaining that their aunt would be staying over to help take care of them.

A ringing of the doorbell coincided with the end of breakfast. Darys was doing the washing up, so Carryl answered the door to the flat.

“Aviel, come in!” She welcomed her warmly. “How nice of you to steal my husband,” she joked.

Aviel, Darys, and Carryl all served at the pleasure of Queen Mara Sov in the Reef’s Royal Armada. They were comrades and friends for decades. With her latest pregnancy, Carryl had taken to Reefside assignments and, as she drew closer to her due date, shifted to working from home.

“I would never think of it, sir,” Aviel replied, ever the professional. Her mentor, Paladin Abra Zire, had trained her and helped to raised her well. “I’m only here to make sure he treats you right.” She flashed her ocean blue eyes over to Darys and smirked.

The aforementioned blinked at her, the twins clambering on him. “I treat her like the princess she should be,” he declared, sticking his tongue out at her. The twins followed suit. He kissed the both of them, blowing raspberries on their cheeks. They tittered as he said, “Okay, I have to put my shoes on now.”

“Oh, for the love of Luna,” Aviel said, placing a hand to her forehead. “We’re going to be late. And I did not want to see your feet, either.”

“You should feel honored.” He rose from the table with one twin grabbing onto each leg. “Be back in a two shakes of a lamb’s tail.” He waddled off, carrying the children on his feet as he stomped off toward the master bedroom.

Carryl shook her head and turned to face Aviel. “You’re going to Amethyst, then?” she asked. It had been a while since she visited the colony.

Aviel nodded. “It should be straightforward,” she assured her friend. “I need people I can trust. Darys and his wing are experienced and I don’t have to think twice about him. I don’t have to tell you how important the Techeuns are.”

“No, you certainly don’t.” Carryl rubbed her stomach as she thought. “I hope this means that he’ll get a little more time off for volunteering for this mission? I could use the help…”

Aviel smiled gently and nodded. “Of course. He’ll get makeup time for this and more. You know we take care of our own. Besides, you’ve both worked hard for the Reef and for the Queen. Duty, devotion, and sacrifice are always rewarded.”

“Duty, devotion, and sacrifice,” Carryl echoed. “There was a time when it was believed those should be its own reward.”

“Reward? Is it payday already? I like money.” Darys was in full uniform, complete with shoes, carrying the twins in his arms now, balanced on either hip. They were again fresh faced and with their teeth once again brushed.

“When haven’t you liked money?” Aviel asked dryly.

Darys appeared to give her rhetorical question serious consideration. “Never.”

“Go before you’re late,” Carryl told him, walking over to give him a kiss. “Don’t make me order you.”

“Mmm, sir yes sir,” he grinned against her mouth, giving her a series of kisses to the twins’ chagrin. He then turned on them and gave kisses their faces before setting them down. “Be good little stars for your mother, won’t you?”

“We will!” they said in unison, hugging his legs.

“I love you,” he said to Carryl, giving her a final embrace and a tender, heartfelt kiss.

“I love you too,” she replied.

“And I love you,” he said to her belly, giving it a kiss. He walked over to Aviel and bumped her shoulder with his. “Ready to go starside, Captain?”

“Always, Captain.” She gave a nod to Carryl and told her, “We’ll be back soon. Don’t worry.”

They both walked to the front door, Darys giving a wave and a warm smile to his wife and children.

Hours later, the Silent Fang, a group belonging to the House of Wolves, attack the Awoken colony space station known as Amethyst. All inhabitants are murdered. All Corsairs, including Captain Aviel Tol, daughter of Corsair Imryll Tol and mentee of Paladin Abra Zaire, are killed in action.

Four years later, the severely battle damaged Gaillot of one Captain Darys Ynn finally makes its way to Earth after drifting through the system from the Raze of Amethyst. It crash lands in the European Dead Zone in an area near the Shard of the Traveler in the outskirts of the Dark Forest.

According to his ship’s logs Captain Ynn was alive, trapped in a barely functioning Gaillot with minimal life support for an undetermined portion of his bleak, solitary journey from the Reef.

Some centuries later a Ghost locates the body of an Awoken male and identifies it as one of the Traveler’s Chosen. Infused with the Light, the newly Risen Guardian becomes a Warlock, a Sunsinger of the Praxic Order, and takes the name Jonathan Martin Severin. And he, for reasons he and his fireteam mistakenly attribute to an accident in the Hellmouth, is absolutely terrified of being alone and in the dark.

@reefbcrn

#memory meme #rp meme #askbox meme #reefbcrn #jonathan martin severin #long post #destiny rp #destiny fic

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originalmemorieshere · 3 years

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Covid, The Aftermath Part 2

I’m sitting here on Friday night, August 20th, all alone in my thoughts. Yesterday my husband got up around 3am and he had a smoothie, then he had two cups of hot tea. By 8am Fred was awake again after a nap and seemed to have a pretty good morning. We took his blood sugar level, it was 305, and he needed 9 units of insulin. About an hour later he ate jello, three scrambled eggs, and some grapes. I really was excited that he was showing a sign of having an appetite.

All day long he drank a lot of ice water. He seemed lethargic as the day wore on. He didn’t have a lot to say and he slept a lot. He had just woken from a nap and I laid down next to him. We were just talking and all the sudden the room began to spin. I am glad I was laying down, but I was gettin nauseous from the spinning. I asked Fred if he could feel the room moving or if we were experiencing an earthquake. No, it was just me. I guess it is my nerves. I’m still coughing a lot and am pretty weak.

I can’t remember for sure, but I think he had a snack or two during the day. We had an early dinner- before 5pm. He had asked for rice and green beans. I added a salad. He ate all of it. An hour after dinner his sugar was back up into the danger zone according to his monitor we had attached earlier in the day. It was 356, so he took more insulin. By 8pm his sugar was up to 442. He took 18 units and went to bed by 9pm.

It was another night of me being on constant watch. It was after 11pm before his sugar went below 400. He was very cold and he didn’t respond when I would ask if he needed water or needed anything. I would shake him until he answered. He didn’t even get up in the night to go to the restroom. Finally, around 5am Fred woke up and went to the restroom, came back and went to sleep. He seemed out of it. His daughter had called around 5:30. He picked up the phone, looked at it and said, “no” and laid it back down. I asked him if he was going to answer and he said he didn’t feel like talking to her. He went back to sleep until 7am.

We were laying in bed talking about what we were going to do when we got up. I asked if he was ready for me to take him to the hospital. Surprising me, he agreed. We discussed the plan for him to get a shower and for us to go. I helped him with showering and dressing. I had noticed a little blood on the towel and saw that his nose was bleeding. He coughed and I also saw blood in the waste basket after he spit. Off we went after he had a banana and some ice water. His sugar was at 351 when we left the house.

This time when we went to the emergency room, I was well aware that he isn’t going to be coming home right now. I packed him a bag and made sure he had his glasses, phone, and charger. I am sitting here now, tears rolling down my face as I remember kissing him and telling him that I would see him soon as I left the emergency room, not knowing what is going to happen to him. He looked so sick, helpless, and small with that oxygen line going in his nose and him holding his ziplock bag with his identification and insurance, overnight bag at his feet. As I turned from him, I felt the tears start. I got out of there as fast as I could and out to the car.

I did hang around the area for an hour and a half in the city to see if the hospital would call, telling me to come get Fred and take him home. I tried to call Fred a few times, but he did not pick up. After two hours I called and found out that he had been admitted and had already had a lung x-ray. He had pneumonia and was waiting in the waiting room. At that point, I could do nothing but head on home because nobody is allowed to wait with the patients in the ER.

It was 5 1/2 hours later that he was finally given a bed in the ER. He called me after he had been at the hospital 8 hours, but it was a strange call. He said that he had been told by an Indian nurse that I told her he was just tired and lazy, she kept asking him things like what his temperature had been in the morning, saying he should know, and questioning him on what medications he was taking. I don’t know what all she said, because he was so irritated by it all, that he wasn’t making sense. He told her that they had a list of his medications from when he had been in last week and she still pressed him on it. He told another nurse that he did not want to have that nurse in his area again. He said she was being rude to him and he was pretty upset by her whole demeanor.

When I had called this morning for the update, I hadn’t spoken to anyone with an accent, nor had that discussion even happened. Why would I tell a nurse he was just tired and lazy?

After we hung up, I was upset that he hadn’t eaten since before we left the house and he had no water or anything to drink since then. At that point, I called down to the ER and did speak with a woman (was it her?) who did have a thick accent who told me that he was in room 261 and no longer in the ER. Now, I was really confused. I called him back and he said he was still in room 19 ER and that the Indian lady had better stay away from him. He also told me that he was hungry and thirsty and was going out to find someone to give him some water.

Sometime after 6pm tonight he finally got into a room in the regular hospital. He still hadn’t eaten anything and was really hungry. I was on the phone with him a little after 7:30pm when a nurse came in to check him in and told him that the kitchen was probably closed. How could a man be in their care for over 11 hours with no food? She told him that she would see if she could get him a sandwich and he said that he couldn’t swallow the bread, so he asked for jello. She offered to bring him some ice cream and he asked if he could have two.

Last I spoke to him our plan is for me to do a couple errands around the house in the morning, go to the dump, and then go on to stay with him for a while. He’s going to get me list of what he wants me to bring for him to snack on. This day has not been the best, but at least I know he is going to get the care he needs to get well and be able to come home.

#originalmemorieshere #covid #pneumonia

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professortennant · 7 years

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Hi! Just popping up to say one more time how much I love your fics! ♥ May I request one? Post-telemovie, Lucien and Jean on their honeymoon, breakfast in bed, and Lucien is not really good at cooking breakfast food

(omg thank you! and you can request a fic anytime)

There would be a time for extravagant room service and waitstaff in the months to come. He felt a small thrill of pride that his wife--his wife--would be able to be doted upon the way she should be. But for now, on their first morning as husband and wife, he would do this for her.

Slipping out of bed, he leaned over and pressed a kiss to Jean’s cheek, nose nuzzling at the soft skin there for a moment. She barely stirred, a soft, little noise of contentment escaping her. He stood, taking in the sight of her tangled up in fine white sheets, the glint of her gold band catching in the sunlight, her hair spread out upon the pillows--mussed from his fingers and the night’s activities.

A rush of warmth filled him, the age-old urge to love and protect--to keep Jean safe and warm happy. He slipped on the robe hanging on the back of the bedroom door and slipped out into the room’s sitting area which was connected to a small, functional kitchen. The excellent hotel staff had already stocked the refrigerator with the essentials: eggs, butter, milk, fruits, and a few sausages. He saw bread on the counter and some general spices in the cupboards.

Perfect.

He set to work then, throwing the sausages into a sizzling pan first to crisp them up. As the sausages were cooking, he set to creating a small batter of sugar, milk, egg, cinnamon and vanilla, whisking everything together. The heated griddles were finally at the correct temperature and he dipped the bread into the mixture before placing the soaked bread onto the heat.

With the sausages and French toast on, he turned his attention to the fruits, cleaning and cutting off the stems before slicing the strawberries and banana and placing into a bowl.

The scent of burning sausages had him turning on his heel quickly, hands reaching into the pan without thinking, to save the now overly crisp sausages--black and charred on the outside. He yelped as the tips of his fingers were burned and he threw the sausages onto the plate, spinning to run his fingers under cold water.

Sucking his finger into his mouth, frowning, he flipped the French toast, noting with relief that at least the outside wasn’t charred and began to assemble the breakfast tray. The dark, black sausages looked a right mess next to the beautifully bright fruit and he hoped Jean wouldn’t notice or mind.

Finally, with one last flip, a pile of steaming French toast was added to the plate. He surveyed his work, pleased with himself, noting that this wasn’t quite as hard as he remembered.

Carefully, he picked the tray up and walked steadily back towards the bedroom where Jean was still dozing. Using the tip of his toes, he kicked the door open and treaded softly to Jean’s side, placing the tray of steaming breakfast down on the table beside the bed. He took a seat next to her on the bed, leaning over and pressing a series of soft, barely-there kisses to her cheek.

He called out to her in a sing-song voice, grinning, “Jean, love, wake up.” The tip of his fingers trailed over the curve of her jaw and he pressed another soft kiss to her neck, nuzzling at her. His voice vibrated against her, “Wake up.”

The smell of breakfast and the feel of her husband’s mouth ghosting over her skin had finally awakened Jean and she was blinking down at him through sleep-filled eyes, a soft smile on her face, and her hands already slipping into his hair, carding through the strands.

She had found her hands buried there on more than one occasion last night and he made a note of it and promised himself he would make an effort to keep it a little longer--just for her.

Lucien moved up, pressing a kiss to her lips, grinning when Jean immediately deepened the kiss, head tilting to the side and mouth opening for him. His wife was a minx. He pulled away with a quick nip to her bottom lip, grinning when Jean’s eyes stayed close for a half-second before eyes flickered open to him.

“Morning, wife.”

She beamed at him, cheeks flushing red with pleasure and happiness. Her left hand caressed his face. “Morning, husband,” she said softly. Lucien wondered how long the sound of husband from her lips would cause him to feel dizzy and giddy.

“I made you breakfast. The sausages are a little burned, but, well, here.” He helped her sit up a bit amongst the pillows and brought the tray between them, watching as she took in the sight of his handy work.

She smiled at him. “I don’t remember ‘breakfast in bed’ being one of the things you promised me in your vows,” she teased.

Cutting up a bit of French toast and spearing it on a fork for her, he held it up to her mouth, eager to feed her. “There was something in there about protecting and cherishing, though, love.” She rolled her eyes at him, but opened her mouth dutifully.

As soon as Jean’s lips wrapped around the fork and proffered breakfast, he knew something was wrong. Her face--always so expressive--contorted for a moment, her eyes going wide, before she hastily tried to cover it up, a stiff, frozen smile on her face.

He frowned. “What’s wrong?”

She swallowed, eyes screwed tight, and then shook her head. “Lucien, I think--I think--you may have mixed up the sugar and the salt.”

Lucien shook his head, “Absolutely not. Jean, I am a doctor. It is my job to be observant and to notice these types of small details.”

“Like the way you noticed those sausages were burning?”

He opened his mouth, gaping at her, before grinning in embarrassment. “I just wanted to do something nice for you, love. We have a few months of strangers doting upon us to look forward to, but I wanted this morning to be ours.”

Jean sat up more fully, placing the disastrous breakfast back on the side table, and then wrapped her arms around her husband, chin resting on his shoulder. “It was very thoughtful, thank you, Lucien.” She turned and pressed a kiss to his robe-covered shoulder.

“But,” she continued, hand slipping between the flaps of his robe, fingers seeking out his chest and the warm skin beneath. Lucien sucked in a breath at the feel of her hand on his body, heat already rushing through him. “How about we leave the cooking part to me?”

She tugged on his body, falling back onto the bed so that Lucien came with her, covering her body. Lucien laughed for a moment, hand settling on her hip. “And what shall I be in charge of?”

“Well,” she said in mock-thought, her leg already hitching up over his hip and pulling their bodies closer. “You can be in charge of making the bed.”

He raised an eyebrow at her, palms rubbing over the expanse of her thigh and up her hip. “I can do that. But you should know,” he lowered his mouth to the exposed skin of her chest, licking and nipping there and enjoying the sounds of Jean’s gasps. “I have some very unorthodox methods of taking the sheets off.”

Jean’s laughed and pushed the robe from his shoulders, nails dragging against his skin, before tugging at him to settle against her more fully. She nipped at his lips before whispering in his ear.

“Show me.”

#tdbm #tdbm fic #jean x lucien #lucien x jean #by-surprise

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rylredrants · 4 years

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Early COVID Life (another from the vaults: 04/26/2020)

Excerpt from a personal history about 2020

March 15th was my last time in a restaurant as of April 26th. (ETA- as of November 15th, I’ve still not been to a restaurant in the US.)

The pandemic had been a conversation topic with both of the dates I’d been on the previous week. The screenings in some airports had begun in January and the first confirmed case in the US had been noted on January 21st. Back then it was still being called the “Wuhan Virus” because of its origins in the Wuhan province of China. Italy had gone on full lock-down back on February 23rd.

The ‘national emergency’ in the US was announced on March 13th- the same day as my first “first date” with a border patrol agent.

The panic buying, specifically toilet paper hoarding, began that week as well. My brunch date told me that he had hired someone to do some work for him that morning. He had offered $300 and the guy said he would take $250 and a pack of toilet paper.

Basketball was the first sport to be cancelled on March 11th.. the Utah Jazz had 2 positive cases. Baseball, hockey, soccer, and the Olympic Games followed. For me, it was learning that the WWE had shut down that made it feel real. Not because I’m an avid fan these days but because they were the first to hold a major event after 9-11 when other people were still afraid to gather in crowds for fear of more attacks.

Utah was hit with a series of earthquakes in the midst of it all with the biggest one on March 18th.Oh, and there were 2 meteors that came, in relative terms, closer to hitting the earth than any others in decades. Can we say, end of the world feeling much?

The first ‘stay at home’ order was in California on March 19th. Blue states were still scoffing at it as ‘liberal fake news’ in the wake of tweets like this from 45:

By March 23rd several other states issued similar orders.

Here in AZ it wasn’t official until March 31st.

On April 3rd CDC guidelines were released recommending cloth face coverings when in public in addition to the ‘social distance’ recommendation of staying 6’ or more from other people. An old friend in CA was making masks so I ordered 2 from her.

Monday, April 13th was the first trip into the grocery store since the pandemic began. My best friend picked me up at 6:45am and I gave her one of the two masks that arrived from California a couple days before. We pulled up to Walmart and saw a line of people outside waiting for the 7am opening. By this point, stores had begun limiting hours in order to properly sanitize things each night and some places started giving senior citizens an extra hour before general opening 1-2 times each week.

Our face masks were made of cotton on the inside and denim on the outside. I made the mistake of not taking my gum out of my mouth before putting mine on which only added to the difficulty breathing. On top of that, my glasses fogged up over and over again. It was awful.

The store itself didn’t seem too bad. The toilet paper aisle was about 10% stocked. The usual brands weren’t there and signs hung on empty shelves that said it was limited to one package per household. I got myself a pack of the Great Value brand, even though I had several rolls still at home. I also bought 2 two-packs of my dish gloves because they were another item that had become hard to come by.

My basket was filled with frozen tater tots, steak fries and jalapeno poppers... junk food that I normally wouldn’t keep in the house, along with 2 packs of my favorite cookies, tuna, shampoo (2 big bottles) and deodorant even though I wasn’t out of either, command strips for hanging the 2 puzzles I’d recently completed, Kleenex because they had them in stock and had been hard to come by, mini loaf pans because I was baking banana bread before it was trendy, and instant coffee because I wanted to try the whipped coffee thing I kept seeing online.

I spent $100 and got $40 in cash that I would later turn into quarters for laundry and water bottle refills.

It has felt like Groundhog’s Day… work, dinner, couch, bed, stare at the darkness, and eventually fall asleep and do it again.

I’ve had even more trouble than usual concentrating at work and instead find myself scrolling Facebook incessantly. Earlier this month, my department fired 3 people and transferred another out to her previous position which has made me that much more nervous about my job. Despite that, I’ve still struggled to get motivated to do the work I’ve just been assigned including a new course to create and an article talking about what my company is doing for our customers “during this time.”

I began watching the daily ‘Coronavirus Briefings’ from the White House as often as possible just because I’ve found that words really can’t capture just how awful the scene is. One day they showed a video that was all about the administration’s “terrific” response to the virus. Reporters described the video as a campaign video and when questioned about a missing chunk of time in it between the end of January when the Commander-in-Tweet said he had ‘bought time’ for the country and early March when they officially announced a national emergency 45 had his now-standard tantrum including, calling reporters “fake news” and attacking their credibility rather than giving any kind of answer.

Another day last week 45 started rambling on about possible cures including injecting UV light or disinfectants into patients. I immediately messaged the co-worker who has been posting about this kind of thing daily and told her that the next big episode would be about people injecting household disinfectants.

Within 24 hours Lysol, Clorox and other household cleaning companies released statements telling people NOT to consume or inject their products. This is the world we live in.

Also last week, the governor of Nevada broke CNN’s Anderson Cooper with her lack of reasoning about how and why Las Vegas should re-open. There have been protests in several states as people who have been unemployed for weeks with only a single $1200 check from the government to help are demanding the economy re-open now. These protests have included masked (white) men holding guns and people with signs such as the one that read “My body, my choice” with an image of a face mask. All the while, other states have used the pandemic as a way of further restricting abortion access calling them ‘non-emergency medical procedures.’

People have applied for unemployment en masse while 2 trillion dollars in federal funds, grants, and loans “designed to help small businesses” (The CARES Act) were snatched up almost immediately. Some funds were granted to large publicly traded companies including as Ruth’s Chris Steakhouse ($20M) and Potbellies’ ($10M). They are among a handful of these companies who are returning the money only after public outcry.

I’m scared.

Not of the virus necessarily, my county has just passed 30 cases which pales in comparison to a lot of other places, but I’m scared for how this is changing “normal” in terms of social interactions that would have typically lead to deeper bonds and eventually, hopefully, a new relationship for me.

A couple weeks ago, I loaned my sewing machine to a friend. She’s been notoriously anti-social and when I came by she invited me to hang out at a “social distance” for a bit. We ended up sitting on the concrete outside her front door about 5’ apart for about an hour just chatting. For her to feel the need for socializing is big. It’s on par with me having the urge to exercise (which hasn’t happened… yet).

I’m scared for my friend in Baltimore whose partner is a nurse in New York where the bodies have been piling up for weeks. He works for the Smithsonian and has been able to work from home for all but one day/week. Coping with the isolation for him has included turning meals into art that he posts along with the daily videos of his strongman feats and the occasional live shows with other performers who are struggling financially.

I’m scared for the New Jersey firefighter who told me about the increase in kitchen fires because people who never cooked are having to do so for the first time. He then told me about a friend that lost both her parents to COVID. She was unable to be with them in their final hours and their bodies were put into refrigerated trucks because there isn’t enough room in the morgues now.

If something happens to him, I’ll never know. He’s not on social media and we don’t have any friends in common who could tell me about it. He could just disappear one day. Or he could just appear. He’s talked about running away from his life for the last 5 years and I think this is really showing him that it’s time to make a change.

I’m scared for the friend in WA working 80+ hours a week between his two jobs. His health was shaky before his daughter’s murder in November 2018 and he lived in his car for months during the trial. He is finally working and has a roof over his head but is in contact with people daily who could potentially get him sick. Again. Because he was one of the people whose blood was being tested for antibodies, assuming he had already had COVID and survived.

I’m scared for my ex-husband who retired from the Army and moved to DC for his dream job right before the lock-downs started. The start date for his dream job was pushed back, and his last Army paycheck was getting closer and closer. Fortunately his resume is one that allowed him to start another job rather quickly and he just got an official start date at the dream job. But he is alone with the dogs, trying to rebuild himself and his life much in the way I am right now.

We had friends in the area from the 3 years we lived there, but the virus means that all of the parties he wanted to go to that I wasn’t comfortable with… those parties may never return. They don’t have the grocery pick up options I have here, and his health has been an issue of concern for a long time.

His girlfriend in the quad was a nurse who said that he had the ‘trifecta for a heart attack’ with diabetes, high blood pressure and high cholesterol. We are still legally married on paper so I have health insurance and am the primary beneficiary on his life insurance, but money can’t replace him.

We may be separated but he is my family… and the only family I’ve really got. And money wouldn’t make it any easier for me to have to re-arrange my life again and somehow go get the dogs if, Gods forbid, something were to happen to him.

It’s all a mess. It shouldn’t be such a big decision to go grocery shopping.

Seeing people in movies and TV just casually touching one another and hugging shouldn’t seem so foreign already… but it is and it does. I know that we will never got back to the way it was. Masks are going to be part of my wardrobe for the foreseeable future.

Just meeting a new person for coffee will feel riskier than unprotected sex, which makes dating a completely different experience… assuming I bite the bullet and reactivate my OkCupid account at all. And rather than calling my best friend and going out for lunch right now, I’m going to go stare at my stocked pantry with ‘nothing to eat’ and end up having leftover biscuits and gravy before putting on something resembling clothes, even if it’s just so I can take the trash out.

This is my life right now. This is the world we live in.

#covidー19 #lockdown #early days of the plague

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therunningpa · 8 years

Text

New job & night shift novella

So I’ve been at a new job the past 6 weeks. I’m still a hospitalist, but I’ve moved to night shift. It’s a long story for another time, but basically I was getting burned out and it was either change shifts or move to a different department altogether. Because I love IM so much I am desperately clinging to it for the time being. In my current role, I only do new admissions and consults.

Since I only post now, like, once a year I figured I might as well write a nice long story for you guys! Because also, when have I kept things short, ever?

So, here you go, a narrative of my day (night?).

I leave my house, clutching my tote of Campbell’s Double Noodle soup cans, rice crackers, and Gatorade. I kiss my husband, tell him I love him, and remind him to please finish cleaning the kitchen for me. He needs a lot of reminding. I need a lot of therapy. We’ve had a lot of therapy. It’s been a year sober for him and the anniversary has been hard, bringing back the guilt big time. It’s been more down days than usual the past month and as I leave the house I can only hope I won’t get any liver patients or alcoholics tonight.

I pull in to the hospital, badge in through various doors, end up in the office. The day shift is coming to a close. “Hey!” my coworkers greet me, “Feeling better?”

“Tons! Not a hundred percent but good enough for active duty.”

My terrible med seeking external ED dump patient from earlier this week had given me her norovirus. I’d spent the previous night out sick, puking and near-syncopizing. (FYI- use the bleach wipes next time!!)

I check in with the three physicians I’m working with that night. One, a seasoned night shifter, a quiet man I dub “The Machine” because of his deftness and ease at admitting patients. One, a seasoned nocturnist, another quiet and confident man who could run a thousand codes without screaming “fuck!” not even once. The third, an exceedingly nice new residency graduate who recently started with us and is probably reconsidering the job after his first week on nights. They have a lot of patients coming from outlying facilities, but no one arrived yet.

I sit around for an hour and a half, check emails, clear my inbox of the previous day’s results and check up on a few of those patients, eat a cup of noodles, rub my belly, think about how I shouldn’t have had coffee, then, all at once, I have 3 admissions I’m called to see. Yes, it’s true, they really all do come at once.

I triage them, and go see first an unfortunate lady who is bleeding and clotting. Or rather, likely to bleed. She has a genetic disorder predisposing her to clots and bleeding, and has come in with chest pain. The chest CT showed a pulmonary embolism, one in each lung. I’d hoped they’d be subsegmental, but they weren’t. I meet with her, spend a long time talking. I tell her I’ll call the hematologist and get back to her. I put out a page.

I jump up to the orthopedics floor to see my next patient, a 73 year old lady with COPD and osteoporosis who fell down the stairs at home and probably broke her sacrum. She’s straightforward enough, other than saying she’s intolerant to everything IV opioid except fentanyl. Which she’s not going to get outside of the ED. I write for oxycodone and IV ketorolac and pray her pending labs show normal renal function.

The hematologist pages me while I’m writing patient 2′s note. He recommends a heparin drip, so it can be turned off quickly if patient 1 starts to bleed. He also says he has no idea what to do with her after that, as far as a long term plan. I text my attending and let him know the plan for tonight. While I’m finishing my note, he texts me back an SOS that patient 1 is refusing heparin because she’s afraid of bleeding.

I go back to the ED, I print out UpToDate, visit the poor lady with the PEs again. I talk about risks and benefits, types of heparin. She has some cognitive impairments from a stroke, but she gets it enough that she has capacity. She still declines the heparin, wants us to “watch her” overnight in the hospital though. I check in with bed control, ask for an IMCU bed since she’s refusing blood thinners, and am told there are no ICU beds left. She’ll have to go to the regular floor.

My third patient is a prisoner with history of peptic ulcers and GI bleed coming in with worsening anemia. Actually, he never shows up from the outside hospital because of some officer conflict. His name gets handed off to the next shift.

Fourth patient shows up in the IMCU, from an outside hospital. The notes he comes with are scanty. Acute on chronic hyponatremia, ?dementia. Hypotensive. Weak. I hope he can give me some history. When I walk in he tells me he’s in a hotel in a different state and doesn’t remember how he got here. He denies any symptoms or concerns. It’s 11 pm, but I dial his elderly wife and bless her, she’s up, and gives me the full scoop. He ends up with a slew of labs, head CT, cardiac echocardiogram.

Fifth patient was not supposed to be admitted. Just discharged 2 days ago with COPD flare, end stage COPD on home oxygen. I read the ED notes in the chart, indicating the family demanded the patient be admitted because they are unhappy and that we are being investigated for discharging her too soon, or was it the nursing home was being investigated for not taking care of her the past 2 days? Or both? The discharge summary from my PA colleague indicates the patient refused hospice the last stay. Awww nawwww. I go and see her. It’s late and at least that means the angry family has gone away. I sit with the patient, she’s very anxious, I’ve taken care of her before. I listen for a long time, answer questions, sometimes the same question over and over. She eventually admits her memory ain’t so good anymore. She then marvels “you’ve asked me more questions than anyone else has today”. I hope that’s a good thing. I go through her extensive workup and again conclude that “I am so sorry, but what you have is not fixable. I think we need to focus on trying to get your symptoms better, but we can’t cure you”. She agrees to at least have a palliative care consult. She grumbles about her bad nursing home experience and says her family called to have the bed held for the following day. I waggle my eyebrows at her “You know, if you don’t hold the bed they’ll give it up and then you’ll have to be here through the weekend and then we can see if your preferred nursing home has a spot now, But, you didn’t hear that from me!” She beams. Somewhere, a social worker has rolled over in their grave and pledges to haunt me in my dreams tonight.

I run up to my office again and eat some more noodles, drink Gatorade, rub my gastroparetic-feeling tummy, and finish up my notes just as one of the physicians strides in with a cardiology consult for a patient who just had a STEMI, now in the coronary ICU. They were found to have multivessel coronary artery disease, received a stent. “Should be easy” he says, “Cardiology has done everything!”.

Except, they haven’t. Patient is from outside our system. Needs an entire medical record update. I also notice his blood sugar is > 300 and there’s no insulin ordered. I add “Type 2 Diabetes” to his problem list. I go in and see him, expecting him to be asleep at 1:30 in the morning, but he is wide awake and surrounded by family. He’s a good soul, we have a long talk about diabetes. His wife has a lot of cardiac questions and try to answer as able. His nurse pops in. “His blood pressure is greater than 150 and they want him under that post cath. There’s no medications ordered”. I step out, sigh. Honestly, I have no idea what cardiology does or does not want for an antihypertensive in their post cath patient. I have a sneaking suspicion it also varies widely by the cardiologist. I wish they would order this shit on their people already. I’m just here for the diabeet-us. Gah!

“What do they usually do for the post cath protocol?” I wonder out loud.

“How about some PO metropolol?” a nurse asks.

I make a face “Really? They do that?”

The nurse looks horrified “Um, yeah, all MIs should be getting that!”

I shake my head “No, I know that, that’s not what I meant, I just mean it’s not going to act rapidly and it’s not going to do much, I mean maybe IV metoprolol but-”

She looks further horrified “No, they never do IV!”

I wanted to say “but I would never give that”, finishing my thought, but instead I shrug and give up. “I’ll ask the attending.”

I don’t work in the ICUs that often, and I especially don’t know the night crew being new at this job. It’s true what they say, sometimes you need to earn your stripes with some ICU staff, especially if you’re a PA. Also, goddammit cardiology, order your antihypertensives! And beta blockers! And statins! (Also, I love you my cardiology people out there, please don’t take my 2 AM thoughts too seriously to heart, ok?)

I trudge back to my office, finish writing notes and checking labs and imaging that have come back. The demented hyponatremic guy does not have a brain bleed. The COPD flare bounce back has a normal procalcitonin. The untreated PE has normal blood pressures. Broken sacrum indeed does have normal renal function. I order new labs for the day crew. I report out to my docs. Around 3:30 AM I hang up my coat, collect my soup and Gatorade cans to recycle, and stumble out the cold wintry parking garage. I cast a few glances, good, no creepers trolling about, get in my car, and drive home.

I drive through the industrial part of the city and through spotlights and fog I see that the operations are already going at this ungodly hour. Backstreet Boys is playing on the radio. I pull into the back alley outside my house. I tentatively feel my way through the backyard, trying not to fall on my ass on the ice over our sidewalk, like I did the other night. I slip inside, and am completely delighted to see that not only has the kitchen been cleaned but there’s a loaf of homemade banana bread sitting out, steaming a little still. I hear a soft pitter-patter and my puppy steals down the stairwell to greet me. She wiggles from head to toe and jumps on me, playfully stealing my lanyard of keys and running away, shaking them. I took her home one day from a rescue this past summer, pretty much against my husband’s will, and I secretly believe she at least 75% the reason his depression lifted. He now agrees. I let her out to pee, then tread upstairs and wash my face and put on my pajamas, kiss my sleeping husband. I’m too wired to sleep though, maybe because I spent the last day and a half sleeping off the norovirus, so I go back downstairs, eat some banana bread, and start to write.

#dayinthelife #hospitalist pa #hospital medicine

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likebrooklynnewyork · 3 years

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on a tightrope (c. 2005)

Another school day had came and went for Brooklyn, her freshman year of high school nearly done with as the summer season was only about a month ahead. Thankfully, things had went smoothly for her, which was more than she could have asked for. She heard the horror stories of how things were so much worse in the transition from middle school to high school, but so far, she hadn’t encountered any of it. In fact, she was incredibly well-liked. Between her and her best friend Vanessa, they often found themselves sitting with a full table at lunch or invited to the coolest senior parties. Sure, it helped that Vanessa’s older brother Phillip was part of the graduating class this year, but Brooklyn figured they didn’t really have to invite them if they didn’t want to.

Personally, being around the seniors and specifically hanging out with Phillip had done wonders for her confidence. Being in the position she was on the social totem pole, who wouldn’t love being told how great and pretty they were from a senior?

She didn’t even bother coming down for dinner, opting to take a nap in her room as soon as she got home from school, leaving her blissfully oblivious to the events that would take place shortly after.

The doorbell rang, to which both Richard and Karen Amherst rose an eyebrow at while they ate at their dinner table. They weren’t expecting any company tonight, at least.

Opening up the door, Richard was surprised to see a familiar neighborhood kid on the other end, no other than Phillip James himself.

“Good evening, sir. Apologies for disturbing you tonight. Is this a bad time?” The senior boy greeted with a kind smile and a respectful nod, to which Richard shook his head in response.

“Not a problem, son. Everything alright? What can I do for you?” Brooklyn’s father reciprocated equally as kind. Phillip was the sherriff’s son and he knew that he had a good head on his shoulders, he had no reason to greet him with hostility.

“Well, sir...I actually came to talk to you about Brooklyn, if that was alright. I wanted to talk to you first, man to man.” Phillip spoke with a deep breath, knowing that if there was any touchy subject in the world, it was regarding a man’s daughter. His only daughter at that. Richard furrowed an eyebrow in curiosity, his features hardening a bit while he waited for the younger boy to continue.

Clearing his throat, Phillip stood tall yet respectful, as he continued. “I’m sure as you know...prom is coming up. My senior prom, that is. And I wanted to ask your permission to ask Brooklyn to go with me. I think...she’s really special and I would like t--”

Just before he was able to finish, Karen came to the door as well, joining them with a welcoming smile. “Oh, Phillip honey -- so good to see you! How’s your mother?”

“She’s great, Mrs. Amherst. She asks about your banana bread at church all the time.” He greeted, slight wobble in his voice from nervousness alone as Richard’s expression hadn’t exactly changed in his reception, especially after his words. “Um, I was just...”

“He was just leaving.” Richard interjected, giving a wave to the boy. “I’ll tell Brooklyn you stopped by and have her call Vanessa later. Thank you for visiting.”

Without much of an argument, Phillip accepted the older’s words with a nod and waved back in response, wishing them a good night before the door was closed and he was on his way.

Karen, however, was much more inquisitive about the interaction. She pressed her husband for more information as they returned back to the dinner table. “Well? What was that all about, Richard?”

Richard walked back to the table in silence, sighing as he sat down. “He came to ask me if it was alright to take Brooklyn to his prom...”

“Oh, how lovely! He’s such a nice boy, don’t you think?” Karen again joined him at the table, taking a sip of her wine with glee, clearly more on board with the situation than he was. She noticed how he didn’t exactly return his sentiment, giving her the silent treatment as he poked at his vegetables. She let a moment of silence go by, awkwardly so, before raising her eyebrow and prying into the request further. “Well...? What did you tell him? What are the details?”

Richard was a man of few words. In fact, he rarely raised his voice. When he was mad or perturbed, he chose to stay silent and stew instead. Clearly, with being uncomfortable, his behavior mirrored that same response. Karen continued to poke and pry, until he finally broke the silence, shaking his head and meeting her eyes from across the table. “I just don’t think it’s appropriate.”

Ever argumentative, Karen fired back nearly immediately. “Appropriate? Why not? You’re not giving her away in marriage, Richard. It’s a dance. A school function. Filled with teachers and chaperones. There’s plenty of supervision and he’s a good boy. I don’t see why not?”

“Because I know how boys work, Karen. I used to be one of them. He just turned what, 18? He’s a legal adult now and Brooklyn is fifteen. She’s a child. She hasn’t even had a boyfriend yet and you want to send her out with an eighteen year old? Do you understand how that looks? I don’t care if the watchful eye of Jesus Christ himself is over them.” Voices were being raised now but it wasn’t enough to be considered yelling, not yet.

Karen shook her head in disagreement, continuing to drink her wine as she wasn’t shy about letting her own opinions known. “I just think you’re being ridiculous. This was bound to happen. She’s a gorgeous girl. Of course boys are going to want to take her out and he’s a good Christian boy. He goes to church, you know he was raised with manners. Isn’t he going to the Army too? I just don’t see what the problem is.”

At this point, Brooklyn was now coming down the stairs from her slumber, just catching wind of the conversation and stopping at the foot of the staircase to eavesdrop before making her presence known. She watched and listened with baited breath, hearing it all.

“No means no. And that’s final. I am not having my daughter go out with someone who is over three years older than her, gentleman or not. She will have her own prom. This isn’t the end of the world.”

And from that, discussion was over, never to be talked about or mentioned again.

Little did they know what was to come within the next six months.

#( self para ; )#( some backstory to the instagram post from earlier today x) )#( if anyone would like to read. )

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rilenerocks · 4 years

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People talk about their spirit animals. Or about which animal they’d be if there was really reincarnation. My mind has glanced over that topic more than once in my life. I used to think that if I wasn’t human, I’d be a dolphin. I like their big brains. I like that they hang around in groups and are strong communicators. And they’re helpful, seemingly altruistic. All of those traits appeal to me. As I’ve matured and looked at myself differently than I did years ago, I realized that my personality has shifted, along with my interest in nature. A bird girl when I was little, I’ve grown more interested in them in more recent years. I’m a skywatcher, a cloudchaser. I still love water. What could be a better spirit animal for me than an albatross? They’re gliders. They can fly for thousands of miles, never touching land, feeding from the sea. The majority of them mate for life. I mean, seriously, is this me or what?

So you might think the quarantine has pushed me over the edge. Not really. I’ve just been a little raw lately. Unlike the brave health workers who go to their hospitals daily, experiencing horror and death, I’ve been able to have the luxury of distance from that harsh reality for some time. This month will mark the third anniversary of Michael’s death. I was at his side, holding his hand, in our own home. An event so unlike these tragedies I read about, when people drop their loved ones at emergency rooms and never see them again. How unbearable, as is so much in the news cycle. Since March, I’ve experienced three deaths. One was my dear friend, Julie, an expected loss, but the end of a 50 year relationship. Last week, I heard of another friend’s death, this one a more casual friend, the kind with whom you can have a nice chat when you run into each other. She died from Covid19 at only sixty-one. This week, it was a man I’d known since he was very young, a musician who worked in my husband’s music store, and was part of a circle of people who moved in and around the periphery of my world for four decades. Michael and I were invited to his first wedding, an alternative and off-beat affair. I watched him perform in his bands until eventually the 10 year gap between us, meant that I was chasing children around while he was still doing gigs. In the past few years, we’d reestablished contact and exchanged thoughts and music over social media. His death was by suicide at age 59. This tough month of May also contains the birthday of my best friend from childhood, another suicide who I still grieve after 32 years. Everything suddenly felt like too much. So I headed out to chase the clouds on a beautiful sunny day, trying to climb over the mounting pain from each end of life.

The endless changing cloud formations never bore me. Instead they make me feel more centered and conscious of my place in the world. After driving around for an hour, I headed back home to push a little further into my never ending list of things to do. I started with the garden, checking out the latest blooms and the ones getting ready to open. I always have some anxiety every spring as I know there will be losses due to who knows what. And then there’s the satisfaction of the reliable, familiar ones who come back each year. Now, given the always surprising Illinois weather, a polar vortex has been served up for tonight, with frost expected. I admired what plants already arrived, hoping they’d survive this night. The ones in pots, hanging baskets and raised beds cost me an hour of bundling them up as best I could, trying to make sure they have their best shot at seeing another day.

I was really happy that I’d restrained myself from repotting and putting my tropical miracle from last year outside to weather the elements. Last year, a friend of mine gave me a gorgeous plant called a Duranta Sapphire tree for my birthday, also this month. I showered it with care, pretty certain I’d kill it in this unpredictable environment. But it hung on. So I kept watering it until suddenly, it was November and still it survived. I thought that any plant that wanted to live so much deserved a chance, so I brought it into my house. It’s still alive and soon I’ll repot it and bring it to the garden where I hope it will enjoy another glorious summer. Next I crossed the street to see how my kids’ new chickens were doing. The older hens had them boxed into a corner, making them perfect targets for a few photos.

After that, I went back home to work in the garage for a bit. I’ve made progress in there, finding some things that were easy to toss out and others that I’ll be keeping for a long time. A while back I wrote a blog called “The Soul of a Garage,” basically a commentary on how Michael’s presence was so palpable in there. I’m carving out my own space now, although his hobbies and projects still emerge from the corners. Today was no exception. Michael was one of those guys who could do almost anything. In the old days before cars were so heavily computerized, he was always fixing carburetors, doing brakes, dealing with oil pans and lots of other stuff I can’t begin to name. So how great was it when I found his creeper and his coveralls? After wiping away some grime, the oak sheen of the creeper came shining through, along with the name of the company which produced it. I looked it up, The Anderson’s and found that it finally closed its doors in 2017. Because Michael was 6’4,” his auto mechanic coveralls were so long I could barely hang them up. But I used a garden tool and finally reached a hook. Those will stay in the garage.

I found one of his baseball bats. His glove is in the house. When he played softball for years with the High and Mighty team, his nickname was “Stick,” because he was such a reliable hitter. He loved that game, but years of swinging gave him a string of herniated disks and one back surgery. I also found his tackle box still filled with lures, reels, filleting knives and other gear. Every summer for many years, he and three buddies headed up to Nelson’s Resort In Minnesota, near the boundary waters, where they fished for walleye and northern pike. At night they played bridge. I always missed him when he was gone but they always had a great time and brought their trophies back for a fish fry.

I was feeling pretty good after hanging around in the garage. I’d cleaned, discarded old junk, found things worth keeping which brought good memories, and had gotten a bit over the top of a sad day. I decided to continue my newly recovered baking skills and went inside to do a banana bread. As I got my ingredients together, I cracked my first egg and got a double yolk. My mom always used to tell me that was a sign of good luck. I assembled everything, put the bread in the oven and reflected on how my day’s choices were positive and had smoothed the rough edges off my sadness. By this time it was nearing dusk and I went back outside to snap a few shots of the lovely sky. When I came back inside, the bread was a warm golden brown and the house smelled and felt warm and homey. After dinner, I popped the computer open to catch up on social media and the news.

On a mutual friend’s Facebook page, there was commentary on the man who’d committed suicide. Someone I didn’t know had written the question, “So is anyone else from the Record Service(my husband’s former business,) dead besides Nick and Michael? I felt like I’d been punched in the gut. This stranger couldn’t have known that I was a person who might read that line. I’m sure she didn’t know that the anniversary of Michael’s death is bearing down on me and my family. Reading her dispassionate, gossipy question threw a big bucket of cold water on my improved mood. I couldn’t imagine asking a question like that in a public forum because to me, it’s remarkably insensitive. And so is a lot of the world. Within seconds, I was back in my albatross dream. I am gliding away from any land mass, following the water. I hear no human voices saying thoughtless things. I can go for miles and miles with nothing but sky and clouds ahead and ocean below. Eventually I’ll get back to my mate, my mate for life. And beyond. Sounds like a plan to me.

Albatross Dream People talk about their spirit animals. Or about which animal they’d be if there was really reincarnation.

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stacyalesi · 4 years

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I’ve been home now for 7 weeks. I feel so fortunate I am able to work from home, and that I still have a job. The work keeps me chained to my computer from 7:30 in the morning until 3:00 in the afternoon, and it gives me a sense of purpose.

I set my alarm Monday through Friday mornings, I get up, I do my hair (haha,) I put makeup on, I get dressed. Not dressed like I’m going to work, I’ve been pretty much living in tank tops, jeans, and flip flops (Florida!), and once or twice a week, I wear a comfy dress. One that I could wear to the beach, for instance.

I do this not because I don’t like hanging out in my pajamas. I like that as much as the next person. But early in this pandemic, I had read this article from a journalist, I think from the Wall Street Journal – sorry I can’t find that article now so it could have been the Washington Post or the New York Times, I read them all every day. Anyway, he had quarantined himself for a few weeks just to see how it would work. And what I took away from that article was that I need routine, and I need to get dressed. Saturday, I can hang out in PJs all day if I want.

I get groceries delivered once a week or so, or send my husband to the store every other week, so I am cooking with what I have. When I say “send my husband,” please know that is entirely his choice. He’s got this slightly protective macho thing where he doesn’t want me going shopping. Or my daughter. Even though we are less at risk than he is. But it is not worth fighting about, so I try and keep it to a bare minimum, which for me is twice a month. Costco has “senior hour,” which he qualifies for, so he goes then. Our supermarket, Publix, has senior hours for 65+, so we can’t go then. But if he goes right after that hour, the store is empty. Now I understand Costco is limiting the amount of meat to three packages per person. I have no room in my freezer, so when we run out, vegetarian it is, or maybe they’ll be restocked by then.

Surprise Box of Veggies

Speaking of vegetables, there is a farm a few miles away that has started selling boxes of fresh produce for $10. It’s awesome! They have a horseshoe-shaped driveway, and people waiting alongside it. Then they just put the box in your car. You don’t get out or anything.

I’ve gone through more than 15 pounds of flour in these weeks that I’ve been home. Mostly because I am doing the sourdough starter. I feed it twice a day, that’s pretty much 2 cups of flour a day. Plus lots more if I actually bake with it. So far, I’ve made pretzels, rustic sourdough bread, and sourdough sandwich bread. But the best thing I’ve made is Sourdough Banana Pancakes. I found the recipe on Instagram (thanks, Chef Johanna Hellrigl – for the photo, too!) and they were the easiest and best pancakes I ever made. We are doing breakfast for dinner every week or two, which my family thinks is great, so lucky me, it’s about the easiest dinner to make, so we are all happy.

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The starter that started it all!

Sourdough Sandwich Bread

Sourdough Banana Pancakes

Rustic Sourdough Bread

I’ve also found myself making food that lasts for at least two meals or more. Turkey. Brisket. My family’s favorite meatloaf from Old-School Comfort Food by Alex Guarnaschelli. It’s Alex’s mom’s recipe and their family favorite, too! I turned pork butt into “Pressure Cooker Garlicky Cuban Pork,” which is so good! But my delivery didn’t include tortillas, the store was out. So I made flour tortillas for the first time. I never quite got the round aspect down, but they tasted good. I also made “Big Bellied Argentinian Empanadas” one night from the fantastic Gran Cocina Latina cookbook by Maricel Presilla. I’ve made them many times, but always with frozen empanada dough. For the first time, I made the dough (all local stores sold out of the frozen!) but I chickened out at attempting the traditional rope edge. I was down to my last egg, so I didn’t do the pretty egg wash either. I especially love this recipe because they are baked instead of fried (so much easier!) and are so good!

We’ve made pizza a couple of times. I made a Chicago style pizza, or as I think of it, pizza casserole, that was awesome!

Chicago “pizza”

Then I spent two (or was it three?) days making Anthony Falco’s “Sourdough Pizza Dough,” and it was so bad I could have cried. The dough looked beautiful every step of the way until it came time to make the pizza. The dough didn’t stretch, it tore. Adding a ton of flour made it somewhat more malleable, but it tasted like crap. Looks good in the pictures though!

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Then my boss told me she made pizza and the crust came out like crap. She thought maybe old yeast or something. We are calling it the “Quarantine Pizza Curse.” We’ve also been eating lots of pasta – mac & cheese, homemade “beefaroni,” pasta with veggies, frozen ravioli when I really don’t feel like cooking. Fortunately, that doesn’t happen very often. I’m trying to balance all those carbs with fish and chicken and salads, but to be honest, I don’t always achieve that balance I’m seeking.

Because I am home, I have the luxury of time. There is no more rushing to get dinner ready. I have time to make things from scratch. Time to try new recipes. On my “lunch break” from work, I can throw a cake in the oven or start marinating something delicious for dinner.

Reading has always brought me comfort and escape. But it is not enough right now. I don’t know if it’s a good thing or a bad thing, but I love to cook and to bake. That is my happy place and let’s face it, we all need something to bring us joy right now. I found mine, and I hope you have found yours!

As always, thanks for reading and stay safe!

CORONAVIRUS DIARY: May 9, 2020 I've been home now for 7 weeks. I feel so fortunate I am able to work from home, and that I still have a job.

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