#I have two ikea cube shelves | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

audiovisualrecall · 2 years ago

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So my 3 drawer dresser kind of works - the top 2 drawers I actively use, I almost always fold and put away anything that belongs in those drawers. The bottom most drawer is sort of a mix? It's got bathing suits, rash guards, some sweaters, and some random stuff like older socks I don't love but want to hold onto in case I need them (has happened before!) Sweaters have 3 or 4 different 'homes' in my room and hardly ever get put back particularly if they're something I'm using frequently or might use. This includes inside and on top of a fabric storage bin, over the top of multiple chairs in the dining room, as well as inside the drawer, inside on a shelf in my closet, and inside a fabric storage bag at the foot of my bed. Multiple types of sweaters. Oh plus I have a top drawer in my 2nd dresser for the pullovers, which has been 90% empty since October. Instead all of the pullovers are on top of my smaller dresser. Which also houses my undershirts/tanktops, jeans, and any and all clothing that needs to be hung up that I haven't had the energy or time to hang up and out away and/or that I've been actively likely to use in the next few days so hasn't made sense in terms of using energy I don't have to put some of it away but also the mess is driving me nuts. Also two shortsleeve polo shirts that I'm not sure where to store bc they won't fit in the short-sleeve shirts drawer in the 2nd dresser and I don't want to hang them up. Uh, the jeans and tanks are also stuff I wear basically every day outside of my days off, so putting them away hasn't made sense. When it gets warmer out consistently I usually put away some of them and the capris (and later shorts) join them (and/or replace the full length jeans later on) on top of the dresser.

Anyway.... I'm wondering if maybe instead of the 2nd dresser I should get like the ikea cube storage unit? And then just fold stuff I use frequently and stick it on one of the cube shelves. And stuff I use less often can get put into fabric bins and then put into the cube shelves.

I also have like some clothing I dont wantnto get rid of bc it's sentimental and/or useful for something specific (ie the breast cancer walk we go on in the fall, steph made shirts for it and I have both designs and am keeping them!) Or the type of shirt or pants that I don't love but I have needed to wear before when I didn't have a better option. So ig I'd get containers or something for some of that....? Also the bathing suits and rash guards could go in a fabric bin or 2 of their own in the cube shelving unit! And then I'd do something else in that bottom drawer. Maybe that could be tee shirts - at least one type, I could do favorites or patterned ones or non-work shirts in the cube shelving and the rest of my short-sleeved shirts could live in the bottom drawer of the smaller dresser.

Still haven't figured out a real workable solution for the sweaters/sweatshirts or for the closet situation but that may not be solvable.

Also once the heavy comforter gets washed and put away (have to find the bag it goes in or use the one the sweaters are in for it.....) I can use the fabric hamper for clothing that I only wore for a little while or half a day or a couple hours so it can be worn again (I like changing after work into comfier clothing when I get home and I could wear the same lounge pants and shirt for 3 hrs each across 2 days tbh) and that will prevent the sweater pile on the bin from becoming a 'sweater and half worn/not quite dirty clothes' pile instead.

And I did add two hooks, one on the outside of my closet door and one on the back (inside) of my bedroom door, which I have been using but I need to put stuff away more often anyway so that one of those hooks is just for the buttondowns and such that I don't want to put into the closet bc I'm gonna wear it the next day or whatever. That should help the clutter on the top of my small dresser. I'm just not sure I want to get rid of my 2nd dresser bc sentimental attachment. It was part of the og set, it was my sister's and then mine. Maybe it could go into the guest room, that might work yeah...

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littlewalken · 5 months ago

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jun 23

I fed the fish, do not fall for their bullshit. They're already conditioned that when the light comes on in the evening they get fed. If anyone stands in front of the tank for too long they think they're going to be fed so they all come out but they're fine.

We put the aquarium light on at night because it lights up the living room and enough of the kitchen then turn if off in the day because the spot doesn't get any natural sunlight and having a 'night time' is good for the fish.

Honestly, a fish tank makes a great night light (as long as it's not like in your face) and you can tell kids that the fish eat monsters. The more monsters they eat the more colorful they become.

Would especially work with a betta because they do change color when they're in a better place. At least 10 gallons with plenty of places to play hide and seek in, and a real plant if possible, Blue Fish loved his broad leaf natural hammock.

***

Most of the books are sorted back to their subjects, they got super mixed up during the move, and now that I have space for them I miss the better parts about the Ikea cubes. I know there was no way we could have moved them ourselves, we had to little red hen the whole move with only a mini van, but I'm still allowed to be pissed off I don't have decent book shelves. And that any I get I need to be able to basically move myself.

I know the next move we might have friends or at least a schedule to hire someone on but past experience left me waiting two weeks after moving somewhere for my mattress and fridge because we had to wait for the person with the trailer to live up to their promise.

I have cheap Target shelves that are already bowing, I knew they were cheap when I bought them but I needed a solution, and I swear stacking the books on the floor is almost a better option.

The wood crate route is... That didn't work when we moved in to the blue carpet house when I was younger and stronger. Now I'm a bit more put the books in what ever I find. With spooky season coming I am totally going to look for a coffin shelf for either the Cure or magick books.

BTW if anyone will be wanting some magik books come on over. I think outside of the grimoire and a couple others for reference I'm just going to get rid of most of them. Angel books too.

The Heavy Metal movie book and copy of ASIT and it's follow up not included, unless you make a reasonable offer and take at least the Cardassian and Bashir section 31 books if not everything in the DS9 relaunch with you.

I still need to figure out a way to have less analog books.

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orcelito · 3 years ago

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Built Five Things today. Got a cat thing from my dad (tally has used it! Some), & then some stuff from ikea. Gonna get some cube storage things for the shelves for Good Storage. + the shoes rack next to it to have a Tidier Space. Storage cart is going in my room for making my tables neater. And THEN. My weird locker display case. Which I'm already putting into use 😎

Observe...

Probs gonna change their poses soon But I have moved my figurines into the safety of the case. No more worry of tally chewing them up (again) lol.

+ my Dice Display bc I added my two new sets to it (to a total of 74 sets of dice now lol)

Yeah

#speculation nation #accidentally took a lightbulb out of the string lights when moving the display case in so Whoops they wont turn on now #but that's ok i'll deal with that later (nevermind the fact that i genuinely do use those sometimes...)#but yea im pretty pumped about all these things bc jfkshfkd it's a Lot #lots of building. my gf helped me & tbh was the only reason they got done so soon so ❤ @ her #living room is a nightmare of boxes but im hoping to fix that soon. once i have my Bins... yes #tally #cats #long post/#also love the new setup bc Xander my door lion is more elevated & thus more visible. Perfect.

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formerlyfandy · 3 years ago

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Ivory, pencil, cupcake and clouds

ivory - describe your pajamas?

im actually wearing them right now lmao (never got out of them)

Its a set of white shirt and pants with small gray peanut people spaced all around. Most are wearing party hats coloured either yellow or blue.

pencil - do you own a journal?

before i wouldve said no cause i never have any use for them but now yes, i have a journal :D I practice wingdings in it! i'm also gonna learn a couple more fictional written languages with it too :]

cupcake - are you a good cook?

if you count not burning down the kitchen as a good cook then yesa! Sure! (in all seriousness tho, i think im fairly dedcent at it)

clouds - describe one of your favorite dreams?

ooh fun! :D (good thing i wrote it down lmao)

okay, this is directly copied from my notebook so here we go

just so you know i have never had a "normal" dream ever soooo :\

"I was at the poppy playtime factory during the day(not the same shape, moreso one room and cubed). Everyone was shoping and I was talking to huggy. We were hanging out and eventually kissy missy joined us. I got picked up by huggy. When the day was near ending a tour guide started talking. [Insert sibling name here] somehow climbed to a lever so a tube that had coffee (or something in the dream i thought it was coffee) in it started draining. Everyone started panicking and then a huggy attacked somebody. Then another. And another. I finally ran. I got to a road and started hitchhiking. Finally a biker woman let me on. We bonded then I was at the house with her boyfriend and her (the two were kind of like parents). We were talking and plating with glowstick insides, i was wiping it on the table (the huggys didnt like it and got hurt from it). A wave of huggys appeared and attacked us. Then i was in front of the factory. I was scared to enter but i did anyways. I did my best to keep quiet but when i got to the back where a big door was i saw huggy. (apparently youre not supposed to think, say, or look at/about huggy otherwise he'd attack you). I quickly looked away and curled up into a ball. but huggy didnt kell me.? we went up to a platform and talked (it was kind of like those tall shelves at the end of an ikea). When he got sad or upset he went kind of goopy with purple slime. Then suddenly kissy missy became goopy with black slime from the aisle a few feet away from us. the goop shot up to the cieling. she used the goop to pull herself up.

suddenly we were running. there was a ladder and a staircase infront of a door (the door was higher up with the stairs leading to it). I used the ladder to go faster (huggy was always following me). once i got to the door i was too short to open it. i asked huggy and he picked me up. i opened the door and he put me down. i found my drawing tablet and something else. words appeared saying the stats of huggy (cant remember what it looked like). he wasnt okay and started turning mean? so i ran. then it went black.

i was suddenly back in the factory and little words said level 4 or something as well as something about tiptoeing. the aisles were way lower and there were cats with cauldrens. I pretended to be a cat. I went on all fours and tried to be as quiet as possible but then someone (i think kissy missy?) came through doors holding something. She tossed it into a cauldren and i had to go eat it? i didnt get into the cauldren tho out of fear she was gonna cook me. she did this a couple times before giving me another one in a cauldren. i pretended to eat this one but didnt because it was poisoned. fin (i woke up)"

yea no idfk what was going on either but i just-

huggy :DDDDDDDD

#fren picked me up and i gots happy :}

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mappinglasirena · 4 years ago

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Sickbay Deep Dive Pt. 2

After we explored the general layout of sickbay in part one of this Deep Dive, it is now time to have a look at all of the stuff filling this part of the ship. While it might not seem all that much at first, there is actually a lot to see and talk about, and as I was working on this post, it got a little out of hand. So, in order not to crash tumblr with too many pictures, I have decided to split this Deep Dive into three parts, instead of two.

Today, I am going to take you on a little tour of all the furniture in La Sirena’s sickbay.

Before we begin, a quick note on Part 1: The first part of this discussion focused on the size and general floor plan of sickbay. Since then, as you might have read, we got a bit of a look behind the scenes which included a set layout presumably created by the production crew. It mostly confirmed my suspicions so far, but I’ll have to adjust some of my assumptions regarding the size of sickbay, at least a little. Once I’ve had time to play around with that a bit, I’ll post an update to part 1.

2) Furnishing Sickbay

One of the things I love about La Sirena is how modular everything on board seems to be. From the transporter control stand that is never in the same place twice, to the number of chairs on the bridge that adapt to the ship’s current occupancy level, to the fluctuation in the various cargo containers all around the two decks, anything that isn’t bolted to the floor will get moved around at some point. This is particularly true for sickbay, where everything but the counter and lamps gets shuffled around near-constantly. Which makes sense, since every piece of furniture except for the table is actually on caster wheels - and I’m not excluding the possibility the table has wheels hidden in its base as well. So, let’s go down the list of furniture and see what we can find out about each piece

The Biobed

Probably of central importance for a functioning sickbay is a good biobed. The one on La Sirena is usually placed in the alcove at the back of the room, but it can be freely moved around as needs require

Note that in episode 5, when Bruce Maddox is being treated, the bed is facing the back of the alcove, whereas in episode 7 and 8, it’s facing towards the front of the room. After the crash on Coppelis, the table is pushed back close to the door, and the biobed is placed in the middle of the round part of the room, directly under the overhead windows.

Like practically everything on La Sirena, the biobed has holographic controls. It includes a scanner (can be seen running over Maddox when he wakes up in sickbay) as well as many life-sustaining functions.

A read-out of the patient’s vital signs and sensor data can be projected onto the wall of the alcove, though we only see this when Maddox is being treated in episode 5.

We only get one shot of the bed without an occupant, namely when Sirena comes back to life after crashing on Coppelius. You can see some of the mechanics that very likely serve to adjust the angle of various parts of the cot, like the footrest, back, and headrest, which is articulated and seems to be adjustable independent of the rest of the back.

In this still, you can also see that the biobed, just like everything else, appears to be on wheels.

Table & Seating

The second most prominent piece of furniture is the round table that’s usually at the centre of the circular lab area.

Not much to say here. It looks to be maybe 1.5m in diameter with a single round foot at the centre. The surface is smooth enough to be reflective and there’s a metal band running around the circumference.

Around the table are four white chairs (on wheels) that have a very ergonomic saddle-like shape.

We don’t actually ever see anyone sitting on them, because people tend to prefer the stools, of which there are four spread around the room (the second pic is from when one of them ends up in the mess hall after the Coppelius crash). They’re on wheels as well and have a bit of lumbar support.

Storage

All of the storage in sickbay seems to consist of chests of drawers on caster wheels. I have no idea if there is an English term for these, please help me out in replies if you have any insight, but I’m talking about what in Germany would be called a Rollcontainer. Basically this thing:

Now if you’re wondering why I have chosen this particular example (which, in case you couldn’t tell from the website design and name, is an IKEA product), let me give you a quick hint:

Somebody has been at a flat-pack furniture store of interstellar renown!

Actually, as has been pointed out by a lot of people, there are IKEA products spread throughout Picard, especially lamps (which have been found on Coppelius, on Freecloud, and even on a Romulan-infested former Borg Cube). As far as I can tell, though, the grey drawers are the only IKEA products in sickbay.

Because everything in sickbay moves around constantly, it’s a little difficult to know for sure how many of these chests there are, but my best guess at the moment is twelve.

As you can tell from the pictures above, the chests were upgraded with light fixtures, added inside the upper rim, and they’re topped with white covers. I think you get a glimpse of the light strips when the top falls off one of the chests in the Coppelius crash:

(Top view of one of the chests. I’m assuming those are rows of LED’s that are turned off in this particular example. NB: The fact that it doesn’t look rectangular is because this image is cropped from the very edge of a frame with a ton of lens distortion. You can tell it’s straight in the original image)

There are blue and black mats on some of the chests, as you can see in these two images:

There are two other types of chests of drawers that, as far as I can tell, were sourced somewhere other than IKEA. They’re both white; one of them is very similar to the grey ones except with a rail around it...

... and the other one has two drawers on an articulated foot (on wheels).

There are two of each of these. We only get a very blurry glimpses of them all together, but the count after the Coppelius crash confirms that it’s two each.

Counter Furnishings

There are two more bits of set design that I would class as furniture, rather than general... stuff, so I’m quickly going to list them here.

There are very small glass shelves over the counter, fastened to the diagonal support beams at the front and back of the room.

And then there are four metal desk lamps on each side of the counter, to make absolutely sure every inch of the workbench can be lit properly. They each have a handle at the front of the cylindrical heads, so they are easier to move

(It’s a little difficult to see in this picture, but the top of the lamp at the very left of the frame, just above the shelves, has the handle prominently visible, and you can also see it on the second lamp from the right.)

And that concludes the furniture section of this Deep Dive.

Next time on “very infrequent but very long posts about our favourite Kaplan F17 Speed Freighter with you host, Lili”: A collection of mostly mysterious stuff scattered across every surface of sickbay, and an exploration of continuity errors, my own personal fan theories, and other miscellanea.

#star trek picard #la sirena #emil (emh)#deep dive #lower deck #sickbay #ikea #long post #i'm gonna have to go through these one day and redo the tagging #but for now i'm just gonna revel in the fact i get to post this #and i managed to procrastinate talking about all of the STUFF which is the main reason this has taken so long #too much stuff #(but who are we kidding - any day where i get to stare at sickbay pictures is a good day)

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myklcollins · 5 years ago

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Day 28 - Feb Vinyl Challenge - "Can't Live Without" . I struggled with this one today. There are SO many records that I just can't live without! My Desert Island Discs list changes monthly. So I decided it's been a while since I snapped a pic of The Collection and submit that I can't live without my records! 😉 . This collection has been with me since the late 70s and have lived in a number of locations. I really like these IKEA shelves, but sadly I have outgrown them yet again. Besides the ones leaning against the rack, I have a nice chunk tucked away off screen, and more still in my "too be sold" section for when I get my Discogs store setup. I thought about getting another 8-cube rack to lay horizontally on top of the two vertical ones, but I'm afraid of that weight affecting the stability. If anyone has any thoughts on that, please share. . Any with that I'd like to thank @harma808 for doing this Feb Vinyl Challenge again! It's fun to search for a release that fits the topic and spinning a record I might not h.... What? There's one more day!?!?! Leap Year!?!? Sonofa..... 👍😎🎶 . #vinyl #vinylcollection #vinylcollector #vinyligclub #vinylcommunity #vinylcommunitypost #vinylrecords #vinyljunkie #vinyladdict #vinylporn #vinylgram #vinyllover #vinyllove #vinyloftheday #vinylcollectionpost #33rpm #33rpmclub #nowspinning #nowplaying #cratedigging #records #recordcollection #instahifi #febvinylchallenge #edgarandmalachisfebvinylchallenge @harma808 #TheCollection https://www.instagram.com/p/B9Ho92LJ0pb/?igshid=ei5icl3lj6yl

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spine-buster · 6 years ago

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Alone, Together | Chapter 4 | Morgan Rielly

A/N: Thanks again for all the positive comments, likes, and reblogs. Please know my messages are always open for you to scream about something to me. Smut will come later. I have to be in the ~mood~ to write it and I wasn’t in the ~mood~ . Just know it will come later.

TW: mention of alcoholic parent

Morgan was back. Bee told him he could come to her apartment for dinner. She was going to cook fish tacos. It was an offer he couldn’t refuse.

Morgan’s two weeks in Vancouver were rejuvenating. Though he’d been back during most of the summer, he had voluntarily decided to come back to Toronto intermittently to get some extra training with his skating and defense coach before training camp and pre-season started. Being back in Vancouver always made him feel relaxed, tranquil, peaceful. Being back in Toronto always made him feel diligent, industrious, energetic. Two different vibes, but he loved them both equally.

And then he met Briony.

Hockey had always taken up so much of Morgan’s time. Even in the summers, he was constantly training so he could come back better than the year before; make more of an impact in a game he knew he could master. Almost all he thought about was hockey. Almost all he did was in relation to hockey. Almost all he talked about was hockey.

And then he met Briony.

A girl that liked to talk about books. A girl that liked to talk about Toronto. A girl that liked to talk about her Master’s. A girl that liked to talk about anything else besides hockey.

Was he guilty that he hadn’t told her about his job yet – or that she hadn’t figured it out? Partly. But it was a nice break. So many people in the city – so many girls – would approach him, cozy up to him, bat their eyelashes and bite their lips at him because he was Morgan Rielly. It was exhausting. While some of his teammates revelled in the attention, soaking up every risqué DM, every eyelash bat, and every bite of the lip, he cursed it. Not to say that he didn’t partake in the occasional eyelash bat, bite of the lip, or risqué DM – he was by no means a saint. But for the most part, he just wanted to be left alone. His mother had always commented on how much he liked to be alone. Even his teammates always commented on it.

He wasn’t that person. It wasn’t his thing.

Then that damn book by Friedman happened. Morgan always loved to read and his friend Jake would always tease him about how much he read on team flights or on the team bus, but he would always shrug it off. But it was somehow Friedman that led him to somebody playing a prank on a girl and her accusing him of doing it. And she didn’t know who he was. He wasn’t Morgan Rielly. He was just Morgan Rielly.

Why wouldn’t he want that?

He knew he would have to tell her sooner or later. He knew he could only keep the charade up for so long. To be quite honest, he was surprised his supposed anonymity lasted this long. He was lucky he didn’t get recognized in the restaurant in the first place, and even luckier that during the night at Cibo, Briony didn’t hear him say his name out loud to the hostess or hear Ben refer to Auston Matthews. He was walking on eggshells and he knew it – but he also knew eggshells didn’t hurt as much as coal and he could walk on them some more.

And now he was finally, finally back in Toronto. The only other time he’d ever been this excited to be back in the city was for the start of training camp every season. Briony had left him hanging before he left, having that make out session on her porch and then denying him saying he had a “flight to catch”. Please. He would have stayed up until the flight if it meant spending time with her.

As he approached the old Annex house, he was overcome with a sense of urgency to see her. He carried the groceries he promised he’d buy in both hands. He remembered two weeks ago when he was here, on the same tree-lined street, except he wasn’t able to see its true beauty since it was night. In the day time it was even more beautiful, the sun poking through the leaves of the trees, the faint sound of children playing in backyards, the hum of the cars on Bloor Street providing the perfect background music. He could see why she liked the Annex so much, despite describing her own place as tiny and cramped.

He rang the buzzer like she asked him to, for Apartment 1. He waited patiently for a response, watching the buzzer. Soon, he heard the front door unlock and Briony’s head poke through. “Hey,” she smiled immediately, giddy like a little kid who just found their parents’ candy stash. “Come in.”

He walked into the foyer, painted an off-white, which had two doors – one leading to her apartment, he assumed, and one leading to the other that took up the remainder of the main floor. There was also the giant staircase, definitely kept from the original house, but it had been painted over. “How’ve you been?” he asked.

“I’ve been good. How was Vancouver?”

“Marvellous,” he exaggerated, walking towards the door. “Spent a majority of my time with Maggie, so, you know, that’s the best.”

When Morgan stepped foot into Bee’s tiny, cramped apartment, he smiled at what he was presented with. It was small – Bee wasn’t lying – but it felt immediately, completely, like a home. The furnishings were what he expected of any “starving Master’s student” as she referred to herself: a small two-seater couch against a wall; a storage unit opposite the couch presumably being used as a TV stand although there was no TV; a basic white L-shaped kitchen in a corner with butcher-block counters; tattered and worn hardwood floors, definitely original; one of those giant cubed shelving units from Ikea separating her bed from the rest of the space; a big bay window looking out into the leafy, tree-lined street. He loved it. He immediately loved it.

“Sorry it’s so small…” she mumbled as he slipped off his shoes.

“This is great,” he said, still taking in the room. “This is so great.”

“You don’t have to be nice,” she said. With two steps, he was in her kitchen and setting the bags onto the countertop. “It’s tiny. And basic. And to be honest, cold most of the time.”

“I love it. So much more character than the condos downtown,” Morgan said. He couldn’t keep the smile off his face. “Seriously…I love it.”

Bee couldn’t bear to see the smirk on his face any longer. He was too cute and too earnest about loving her small, antiquated Annex apartment that she turned her head back to the groceries and focused on the spring onions poking out so she wouldn’t break out into a blush. “So are we gonna make these tacos or what?”

“Before we begin, there’s one thing I need to do.”

“Washroom? It’s right over --”

“No,” he interrupted her. He turned to her and held her face in his hands before leaning down to kiss her. It wasn’t a small kiss either – no no – it was the same type of kiss they left off with two weeks ago. When her hands rested on his arms, he moved his hands to her waist, slipping them underneath her shirt. The touch made her press her body against his, and he used the opportunity to back her up against counter. They kissed for a while, until Morgan deemed necessary, because Bee didn’t seem to want to stop anytime soon. When he broke the kiss, Bee’s eyes stared back at him, his body still looming over hers.

“What was that for?” she asked, breathless.

“For leaving me hanging two weeks ago,” he said, taking his hands off her waist and backing away from her.

She bit her lip. The absence of his touch was cold. “Touché,” she said, watching as he turned away from her with a smile on his face before he started to unpack the bags. She turned away and bit her lip. He had some nerve doing that to her. “You wanna put on some music?” she asked, trying to forget about it. If she kept thinking about it she wouldn’t be able to last the night.

“Music?”

“I can’t cook without music.”

Morgan giggled. “Your neighbours must think you’re a delight.”

She rolled her eyes. “It’s not like I blast Metallica.”

“What are you blasting then?”

Bee was proud of her taste in music. If she could fall back on anything, or when she was stressed and thought ‘What the fuck do I even have going for me right now?’, the answer was always her good music taste. She didn’t care what others thought. It was one of the only things she had growing up, and it was hers to curate and hers alone. “Have you ever heard of Born Ruffians?”

He snorted. He couldn’t believe this was happening. “Born Ruffians are one of my favourite bands,” he revealed. He’d even given them seats to a few games last season. Same books. Same music. What the hell was next?

“Seriously?” she was shocked. She turned away from him because she was blushing again. “Alright. Born Ruffians it is then.”

Morgan watched as she started prepping the cutting board, chopping knife, and bowl. She maneuvered around the kitchen with such certainty Morgan was intimidated to interfere. “What am I supposed to do here, sweetheart?”

She looked over her shoulder, eyebrows raised mischievously. “Just sit there and look pretty, darling.”

Morgan laughed. “No, seriously. What do you want me to do? I’m not the best cook but I can help…I don’t know, chop an onion or something.”

“Just sit back and relax…it’s okay,” she reiterated. “I’m being serious. Crack open the bottle of wine if you want to and pour us a glass. I love cooking. It’s my hobby. But I don’t want anybody else in my kitchen bothering me while I cook.”

Morgan couldn’t help but smile. She dug into her pocket and thrust her phone in his direction, not looking at him. “Here. Music. Go wild.”

When all was said and done, Bee placed a plate of three fish tacos in front of Morgan, who had kindly set the table and was the perfect DJ to accompany her cooking. By the time they actually sat down at her small coffee table to eat, they were half a bottle of wine in. “There’s more if you want it. I’ll lend you some Tupperware to bring home too. Don’t be shy,” she said, crossing her legs to sit down.

Morgan took his first bite out of the fish tacos and his eyes rolled to the back of his head. “Holy fuck,” he said, savouring the taste in his mouth. He could see Bee had a proud smile on her face. “What the…where…how did you learn how to cook this well?”

“I don’t know. Trial and error, I guess” she shrugged her shoulders.

“Fuck, I wish my errors turned out this good,” he mused. “Usually it’s burned chicken or over boiled pasta.”

Bee snorted. “How the hell do you over boil pasta?”

“Listen,” Morgan said curtly, only causing Bee to giggle more. “Don’t trash my cooking skills.”

“You just trashed them yourself!”

Morgan thought about it. Maybe the wine was already getting to him. “Whatever, Briony. You still didn’t answer the question. How did you learn how to cook this well?”

He watched as she took a sip of her wine. “Like I said, trial and error. I’ve been cooking since I was ten. There have been a lot of mistakes over these last thirteen years. But I learn from my mistakes.”

“You’ve been cooking since you were what?” Morgan asked. “I wasn’t even allowed near a stove…why?”

“Alcoholic mother, Morgan.”

He sobered up really quickly when those words left her mouth. They hung in the air, but it wasn’t awkward. Bee said them so casually, like her situation was normal – like it was normal a ten year old had to learn how to use a stove to feed herself and her mother. “Briony…”

“Please don’t say anything dumb like ‘I’m sorry’. It’s not your fault my mother was an alcoholic. I dealt with it. I became self-sufficient and stronger because of it,” she said.

“I wasn’t.”

“Oh…okay, sorry,” she blushed. “I just…that’s all I’ve ever heard when someone’s found out. It gets…I don’t know…tiring.”

Morgan shook his head. “I don’t feel sorry for you. We’ve already established I think you’re a badass because you were able to accomplish all this,” he motioned to the apartment around him and the food in front of him, “all on your own. I was uh…I was going to ask you a question. Since we’re on the topic…sort of.”

“Oh. Of course.”

“It’s a bit…personal,” he warned.

“That’s okay.”

“When we went out to Cibo you mentioned your scholarships. How…how many do you have?”

Bee smiled. “I’m on four major ones. I have the Richard Xi Grant from Rotman that covers $35,000 worth of my tuition, and a Rotman Academic Scholarship worth $15,000 that covers the rest of tuition. There are two other grants that U of T offers that basically cover my living expenses – they’re $12,000 each. One and a bit goes to paying my rent, the rest of the other pays for food, my Presto card, and any other expenses I might have, like my cell phone bill.”

“So you…”

“So I get by on just over twenty grand a year, but fourteen of that is rent…so uh, around six grand,” she knew his mind was calculating the numbers. The wine was making it difficult, she figured. “My tuition is fifty grand, but luckily that’s paid for. There’s also what I earn from being a TA, but because I have the grants, most of that goes directly into my savings, thankfully.”

She knew from the way he hesitated he wanted to ask how much that was. She didn’t mind sharing with him, because she was being open and honest, and he had been open and honest about the fact that he grew up in West Vancouver with membership at a country club. She was starting to learn that they grew up in very different worlds. Country clubs, wine bars, and private schools versus public housing, food pantries, and counting pennies.

“Thanks for opening up to me, Bee,” he said, unable to find any other words to say. He knew he sounded stupid but it was the only thing he could think of. He was wearing an $8000 Rolex watch on his wrist and she was surviving on $6000 for an entire year. The harsh reality was a quick slap in the face.

“Did you ever end up finishing Friedman?” she asked suddenly.

“Yeah. I finished it on the plane ride to Vancouver, actually,” he said, grateful for the change in subject. “I didn’t like it as much as I thought I would. I mean it was good, but like…I don’t know. I was expecting more.”

“Me too,” she nodded her head, taking another bite into a taco. “The only chapter that stuck out was the one I mentioned when we first met. Everything else was just…blah.”

“I’ve moved on, too. Well, trying to. My mom recommended this book that is very much similar to Friedman, but I don’t know if I want to read it.”

“You should real Ali Smith,” Bee suggested, taking a small sip of wine. “She’s like…my favourite author right now. Well, she has been for years.”

“Why?”

“She’s just so good!” Bee smiled. “Just…her narrative and her prose are phenomenal. She is the absolute master of the dual narrative and I just wish someone would give her the damn Pulitzer and Nobel already. She beyond deserves it. You read fiction, right?”

“I mean, I can.”

“She is just…ugh, she is so good. I know my brain is more analytical and into numbers but I think I forced it to be that way. If I could have any wish granted it’s to be able to write like her. She’s working on a series right now – this sort of post-Brexit set of novels named after the seasons – and I mean she’s only released two, Autumn and Winter, but my God the way that she’s writing and the way she’s tying storylines together, the way her words just punch you in the gut…I…UGH!” she exclaimed. Morgan laughed at her outburst. “You need to stop me now or else I won’t shut up about her. Seriously.”

“You seem to really like her,” he commented sarcastically.

“Oh come on! There has to be a writer that you love as much as that?”

Morgan shrugged his shoulders. He loved reading, and his teammates made fun of him for it, but he didn’t really have a favourite author. He didn’t really admire an author’s entire body of work. Perhaps he didn’t read enough to be able to do that. “Not really.”

“Okay, well, after dinner I can show you what I have. You can borrow something…you know, if you want,” she added nervously.

Morgan looked at her and said nothing. He could only smile.

The rest of dinner was spent with Morgan making googly eyes at Bee. He couldn’t help it. Whatever they talked about had him on his knees begging for her to keep speaking and he had to keep pinching himself for how lucky he was that this girl was sitting across from him, giving him the time of day. Cooking him food. Willing to lend him a book.

He insisted on washing the dishes as she packed half of the leftovers into a container for him. When she was done, she leaned against her countertop, finishing her glass of wine. She watched as he placed the last plate on the drying rack before cleaning up the sink and washing his hands. He turned to her when he was done, an undecipherable look on his face.

She was getting nervous again. She couldn’t believe he could make her feel this way. “I uh…there’s a small dessert in the fridge,” she said, her voice barely audible.

“No,” Morgan said plainly, shaking his head. Taking his time, he sauntered over to her, standing right in front of her, his body looming over hers.

She looked up at him, unable to breath. “Hi.”

When he kissed her, he tried to take his time. He tried to make it last. But the attempt was futile, because the second he felt her body pressed against his, he was a goner. His kisses became more frantic, more passionate. He couldn’t help himself. His hands slipped underneath her shirt again and he was shocked when she tugged at the belt loops of his pants.

“Let’s go,” she whispered hurriedly, breaking away from him and taking his hand, pulling him towards her bed.

#morgan rielly #morgan rielly imagine #morgan rielly fic #toronto maple leafs #toronto maple leafs imagine #toronto maple leafs fic #alone together series

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thestippichburrow · 5 years ago

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A ply a day makes the clouds go away...

There’s nothing quite like the flu over the holidays followed by a sinus infection to knock you out of commission for 3 weeks. A very delayed Happy Turkey day to all! :)

For the sake of not scaring everyone away within the first few blog posts, I’m going to delve into some lighter topics first. So, let’s talk about what I do with my days now as an agoraphobic hermit! (I mixed in pretty pictures too, don’t worry…)

Many people who know me well know that I have a semi-unhealthy obsession with yarn. A fifteen yearlong love affair that may, at times, even make my husband a little jealous. The graduation from those lovely, massive, electric blue Ikea crinkle bags filled to the brim with acrylics and discounted yarns from Michael’s to the silks, mohairs, and soft merinos I’ve now collected in cube shelves all over my office; there is just nothing better.

When I first picked up knitting needles at seventeen years old (stop doing the math), there was nothing I wanted to ace more. My anxiety and personality disorders had begun to manifest and having something to pick up and distract my brain with helped my mind focus. Much like my adolescent years spent teaching myself to play classical guitar, I would spend hours daily locked behind my bedroom door practicing. Determined to master the two-needle craft, sometimes I would find myself tossing the entire ball, needles and all, across the room out of frustration (teaching yourself to do something Prior to the introduction of the vast YouTube library of how-to’s – how DID we do it?). After my initial few years of knitting, thanks to my dyslexia, I found out I was knitting all of my stitches backwards and would end up re-teaching myself again at twenty.

A few more years of knitting obsession passed and by this time I had mastered lace, ribbing, cabling, sock knitting (my favorite!) and more. I would visit every independent, yuppie, yarn shop within a hundred mile radius to learn more about how fibers felt, what they looked like in person, the differences in weight, and which brands were totally taking you for all you were worth. I had shocked countless indie shop owners by letting them treat me coldly as I strolled through their shop browsing for the first 15 minutes as they offered me no help and stared. I’d follow this up by asking them very specific questions about their personal techniques on their own projects they had in hand and it was like flipping a switch, suddenly I wasn’t the young, dimwitted brown girl with no idea where she was and smiles and conversations would ignite. I would then smile back, thank them for the conversation, and drive home and order it online. My own, little version of “Pretty Women”. ;)

After a while, boredom ensued and at twenty-three, I was ready to pick up the crochet hook instead. I really could not get enough of finding different ways to make yarn into pretty and useful things and would spend the better part of my twenties making piece after piece, always with the hopes that whoever the recipient was would love it as much as I loved making it. Until life started happening.

I learned the hard way that spending days, weeks, or even years on a project doesn’t matter if you are not the one who put in the time to create it. Beautiful heirloom pieces that I had made with love or that were commissioned from me that I would never see again or that I was cheated out of being paid for. After the last massive project of knitting a wedding blanket was returned with an emotional fist to the gut, I lost my confidence, I lost my motivation, and until just a few years ago, I had stopped making things with anyone in mind altogether. In 2015, I had begun letting everything gather dust and for the next two years, I would not pick up a single thread or needle. Projects that were half completed were stuffed in Ziploc bags in storage to sit and wait.

Fast forward to the end of 2017 and my joy for creating fabrics began slowly returning by way of some family encouragement, as well as learning a new technique. I had just suffered from my second massive breakdown and my hands needed a distraction more than ever. I still had no desire to knit and crocheting had become dull, but I needed to get my hands on yarn, so I hit the pinning boards for inspiration, and there she was. Weaving. It only took a few months of research and practice on my first loom to get comfortable with dressing a loom and measuring my spaces, creating stripes and adding flares (I echo – what did we do before YouTube?). When I was not over-working myself at my day job, I was practicing weaving. I would soon take on teaching myself to use a Singer as a way to learn how to combine my woven fabric into clothing and eventually, I was able to pick up all of my old projects collecting dust.

This coming year will mark close to half of my life as being a self-taught textile artist. It hasn’t been an easy, kind, or fruitful road and to be honest, most days I still do not share my work with many people, though, I’m constantly surrounded by varying types of projects in our home. I will never regret a single second of my experiences since starting this journey, as they have shaped the way I create and the way I have learned to love what I do. Things are not always rainbows and butterflies, even when it comes to doing the things you love in life, but if you love it, isn’t it all the more worth it to keep going?

It’s a difficult thing, finding something you love to do in life, so when you do find that thing, don’t let it go. In the great words of my favorite, fellow agoraphobe –

“That it will never come again is what makes life sweet. Dwell in possibility. Find ecstasy in life; the mere sense of living is joy enough.”

~ Emily Dickinson

#knitting #crochet #weaving #depression #anxitey #self-care #crafting #yarn

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rivensbane · 5 years ago

Note

11, 16, 21 for the book asks

11. have you ever bought a book because of who the author was?

yes! if i really love an author’s work, i’ll start buying everything they write - eg. brandon sanderson. there are some exceptions and this doesn’t always work out (i really wasn’t a fan of snapshot) but you know ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

16. favourite non-fiction genre?

science!! i really love history as well but science nonfic is my fave.

21. how many bookshelves do you have?

i have three of those big(ish) billy bookcases, one of the smaller billy bookcases and two wall-mounted shelves (all from ikea) and two of those little two-cube shelving unit thingies i found elsewhere (i’m good at explaining myself!)

book asks

#misc: asks #tysm!!#Anonymous

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littlewalken · 1 year ago

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Oct 22

As much as I've championed them I think it really is time to part ways with the Ikea shelves and when we finally do have a date to move they'll be in the yard for whomever comes and gets them.

Last move we paid to store our furniture because we were on a two below minimum wage income with three dogs, two of which were about 100 pounds each, and 200 pounds of mooch who left all lights on, the refrigerator and freezer doors open before we locked them every time we stepped out, wasted food and toilet paper during the plague, and felt getting any sort of income was beneath her. And the car was always needing something, especially a replacement radiator and associated parts that would be at least a month's rent each time. So replacing anything, let alone a piece of furniture, even used, was out of the question.

I'll be taking the two white graham cracker cubbies I've had all century and a dresser I want to repaint but after the move so it doesn't get scratched. The first thing I want room for is a new art table. If my books have to be stacked on the floor for while until I find or figure out new shelving for them so be it. And the new bed and chair I'm currently sitting in so I have a chair.

This time my space should and needs to be dominated by the art table and dollhouses. I did a major clean out of the books. I have nice matching clear tubs to put the "craft room" in. Thick and heavy almost black cubes kind of don't have a place any more. And we've managed to get our credit card bills down to a manageable level and we have replacement shelf, at least Walmart replacement shelf, money.

I might go metal racks with wheels so I can rearrange the space when I feel it and move stuff out of the way if I need to lay a quilt on the floor and pin it.

But they have to finish building it and let us tour it first.

Still stressing that when we do tour it the space will feel small and have a stupid layout but we'll be there, at least for a little while, because we're sort of stuck in finding a place where I could get to a grocery store of some sort on a scooty bike.

It was one of those several box stores looking for something for the smothering unit's specific wants days and at the last one I had to be on a scooter. Hell yeah I got looks, my cane sitting in the basket, my polite ass saying 'excuse me' and 'thank you' a lot. So much more I'd like to say about it, I've seen The Bar on South Park.

Don't see where people say they're better than walking, the seat was uncomfortable and it was mind numbingly slow.

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cesium-sheep · 3 years ago

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today I:

updated my address with the bank

brushed my teeth

packed some more stuff

did a little duolingo (I didn’t stay up as late as usual last night)

updated billing address most places

watered plants

packed a little more stuff

loaded some stuff in the car

checked the mail

checked through the porch stuff again for anything immediately movable

emptied out the two smaller storage cubes

brought them inside

cleaned the little table

helped decide priorities

disassembled the little table

loaded the car

wiped down the laundry shelves

unloaded the car

put away shoes

sorted clothes

put away clothes

roughed out bookshelf placement

made loft bed

put away stuffed animals

got a work text

staged bookshelves

helped with dinner

fed jackie

set up ferrets

drew kirby

put away ferrets

fed and watered ferrets

cleaned ferret messes

gathered trash

fed jackie again

brushed my teeth again

gave jackie greenies

did duolingo

tomorrow I gotta get the bed ready to move once I’m up, and move jackie’s little house into the closet so she has somewhere to hide when the other guy comes to help move shit. while we have the truck and the extra arms we need to move the tall bookshelves and the couch, and we’re also moving the animals since we’re moving the bed, although we won’t get internet at the new place until monday -n- and we still have until the 1st to gather up the remaining stuff that should all fit in the car, arin’s whole desk and the kitchen and I actually have almost nothing left here.

also when we go to ikea I need to look at clothing storage because right now I just. have my current dresser in the living room cuz there’s not space for both dressers in the bedroom and it wouldn’t make any sense for my clothes to go in arin’s office. (I still ended up purging some more shitty leggings going through and getting everything into the dresser though.)

I mentioned to arin how fuckin weird my body is that it’s just still truckin along with minimal consequence after the first day and I’m pretty sure it’s just the mega-powerful compensatory mechanisms I have for some fucking reason and she was like “yeah that’s what I’m worried about” which. fair. as soon as this is all done I’m going to become completely useless for a while. should recover by craftageddon though.

#long post #productivity list #also hung around much of the day for a pre-move inspection that I guess just never happened

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averybritishsomething · 3 years ago

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Long moving update

Hi! I know I promised this, and obviously I’ve been online and caught up, but here is my fun moving story. And all my shit is in my new condo. as far as I know most of it survived in one piece. So if you don’t know me, and wanted a tldr there it is! Read more cause this got long as hell

SO! Monday night I stayed up till 2 am (tuesday morning I guess) finishing packing most of the shit. Mom was coming on Tuesday (and before I continue, I just need to say that she was actually massively helpful, and not judgmental about shit, and honestly, best help I've gotten from here in a LOOOONG ass time) and I wanted to look like I was totally ready. Because some of my college moves were a complete shit show, and mom witnessed all of those. I crashed around 2.30-3 ish, planning to sleep till 9.45. Nope. the doughnuts my relator sent over (which are stans doughnuts and delicious) arrived at 9.15 instead of 11. So I broke speed records for getting dressed in something and running out to get those. Mom made it about 11.30 and we were working on the last min shit (getting all the trash out, and loading everything in my fridge/freezer into coolers because who needs to buy all new condiments). We had finished packing all the shit by a bit after 1, and had moved onto sweeping where we could (around the boxes lol) and double checking cabinets. My movers said it would only take an hour to move all of my packed shit into their truck, drive it to the new place, and get it up in the elevator. They said they would be there between 1 and 2. so. I had elevator reservations at this building for 1-5. Any time I go over, I have to pay a fee. $50 a half hour. I told the movers this in the initial email. They never gave me a phone number, everything had been over email. At 1.30 I started to get nervous. at 2 I started to call every number I could find attached to them online. Finally I got a call back at 2.15. Their previous job had run over, and I was next. They would get to my place by 3.30. Welp. nothing I can do. I reiterated the time for the elevator. And for those unfamiliar with Chicago traffic, let me tell you, rush hour starts at about 4, and lasts until 8 ish. The drive between the two places is about 15 min in a speeding uber with no traffic, or 45 min stuck in all the traffic. Or something between. They brought an extra guy they didn’t charge me for, and got all my shit out in like 20 min. Which is just fucking impressive, because I had a daybed, mattress, 3 shelves with cubes in them, a desk, chair, tv, 4 rugs, 9 under bed bins, and about 40 moving boxes, and lived in a second story walk up.

So then mom and I ran over to the new place. Plan was, I run in, get the movers, do whatever I needed to do with security, got moms parking pass for later, while mom went back to the apartment to get the things we didn’t want the movers to move (there were like 4 smallish boxes, 2 backpacks, and the contents of the freezer that needed to be tossed into grocery bags. the boxes and backpacks were fragile and irreplaceable things, and the backpacks were legal docs, a few decent and sentimental pieces of jewelry, and my laptop), then, once mom was headed over, i’d head down, meet her in the circle drive out front, and we’d figure out parking.

lol

So, I run in, run back to the loading bay, and can’t find a security guard. Then the movers call and they can’t figure out how to get to the back of the building. So I go out back to try to give them directions. They finally show up (traffic was awful), and one guy goes, ‘show me where to go’. So he follows me. Still no guard by the loading bay, so I head to management office. A security guard is going in, so I go to follow him and he yells at me. OOOK. I decide to go to the front desk next. They tell me to go to management and point out I only have about 45 min (I FUCKING KNOW). I say I can’t get into the management office right now, this is time sensitive, where is the security guard by the back door. She radios someone and says they’re coming around the corner. Guard who yelled at me earlier comes around the corner. I ask him. He says hes looking for someone and not to bother him. oooook. I go back to the front desk. she now says they don’t have the move in info up there, can’t prove that i am who i say i am, and that I need to move. and to head back to management. Management is a 4 min leisurely stroll from the desk btw. So i’m heading back, when a different security guard rounds the corner, and asks if im the mover. well she asks the mover if we’re moving in, and i’m like ‘nope, i am, he’s carrying the shit, i’m paying’. and she starts in on complaining about how we’ve kept her waiting all day and she wants to go home. I apologize (but like also, I paid her to be there. not to sound entitled, but she was paid to do nothing but sit in an air conditioned office waiting for me to show up, and then to watch movers walk by. I’m sorry, but good grief, i also did not want to be running late). So then we try to take the elevators. the door to the freight elevator is locked for no fucking reason. my fob won’t work. she doesn't have a key. So i run back to the front desk, and she radios for mr friendly security guard to come back. He takes his sweeet ass time walking there, and we spend 5 min staring at the glass doors separating me from the service elevators. my mover is like ‘ i hope we’re refunded for this 15 min’ and i’m like ‘bitch i wish you’d showed up on time’ internally but just nod. SO then she’s like ‘you know you just have 15 min left. ‘ and i’m like ‘yes i am aware’. and she’s like ‘i have to tell management if you run over’ and i’m like ‘yes i know this too’. so it’s unlocked, I escort the movers to my room, unlock the door, and then fucking sprint back to management office (which I still haven’t made it into today) so I can pick up my parking pass for mom, before management office closes at 5. so the movers get my shit up in like 45 min, and then move it to the correct rooms. I pay them and tip them cause apparently you’re supposed to. and then I lay down and try to stop sweating for 5 seconds.

Then mom calls. She’s on her way, and got everything but one box in her car. So I head down to the lobby (meet a neighbor I share a wall with, he seems super nice, teaches piano, was giving a lesson while i was moving in, I couldn’t hear anything. i love these thick walls) and hop in moms car, and we go to figure out the garage. We finally figure out how to get in (this took a few min, the garage system is currently complicated as they’re in the middle of renovating) get down and discover that yes we have in and out privileges with this pass, but it’s still valet. all parking I can get for guests is valet. which is awkward but ok. We meet William, who is SUPER friendly, nicely explains how the garage works, lets us leave the car by the valet stand while we unload some things, lets me use the luggage cart, just is all around awesome. So we get the shit upstairs, unload the cold shit, and run back downstairs to drive to fucking ikea. We get there, figure out the closet thing I want is too big for my closet (sigh) and order the rest of the shit to be delivered here on the 11th. So that’s when I’ll have furniture again lol.

we go home and pass out. it’s 11, i’ve been running all day, this is deserved.

the next day we start unpacking. I'm dealing with my clothes, mom is doing the kitchen. I hear some ‘broken pottery pieces moving around noises’ and know i’m fucked. All my fucking plates except 3 are busted. They were sturdy old plates that looked like fiestaware I got at good will and have had for nearly 10 years. They're all still wrapped in my bubble wrap. Just fucking shattered. So. that’s something I need to deal with. So far they’re the only broken things we’ve found, but damn it’s going to be a pain to replace. So once the cable guy shows up 2 hours late, and finally gets that set up, mom and I run back to the apartment, grab the last box, and go to physically drop my keys off because my landlord sucks. We get stuck in traffic cause Western is shit again, and finally make the ‘20 min’ drive according to gps in about an hour. I drop them off, and we’re back at my condo. Mom and I unpack until she leaves in the evening and then I go to my room and get online and I haven’t unpacked shit since then. I’m going to after I type this out (and send a form to the office, and ask a polite question about how do I get amazon packages delivered to the package room because my smoke alarm does not work at all and the nice matience guy who discovered that yesterday let me off without a fine, cause he could see i’d literally just moved in, but I need to fix that). But like.... i’m actually in the room! and about half the boxes are unpacked!!! which is amazing!!!! so, it had some issues, but at least i’m fucking moved!

#Story of my Life

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