#My friend is going to take our encyclopedia set for his daughter though. That makes me really happy. I know Encyclopedias
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my poor advisor. I feel like a toddler madly scribbling dark and angry scenes in black crayon unable to focus on anything meaningful. I've just wasted 6 hr of my life and now I need to go to class and not waste more of my life and I don't want to do that either, even though this is objectively one of the best classes I'll be taking my whole career.
#I feel like the first 30 minutes of Boy and the Heron. And halfway through Wind Rises.#maybe I should have just rewatched boy and the heron twice today. that might've been a better use of my time.#ptxt#grief/depression makes me close down. I don't want to interact; I know it'll pass. The world is too beautiful.#But the pain needs to be swallowed.#My friend is going to take our encyclopedia set for his daughter though. That makes me really happy. I know Encyclopedias#are dated but they're a really nice set and I think they made me love research. I'd read them cover to cover like a nerd when I was little#at one point I printed out a bunch of dolphin and whale pictures and tried making collages.#I don't want them to go to a goodwill or Bookmans and sit on a shelf collecting dust. They should make a little girl a nerd.
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History Repeats Itself AU
It all started on that one Christmas Eve. At age 17, when a strange duck dressed all in purple appeared at McDuck manor. She claimed to Webby that she was a distant relative and said her name was Violet. Webby, of course, having a complete encyclopedia of the McDuck tree didn’t really buy it, but didn’t question it.
“So.. where’s Dewey?”
“I don’t know. Probably outside somewhere.”
“Why aren’t you with him? Aren’t you guys like.. together?”
“Yeah we are.. I’m just.. I just wanted some time to myself today.”
“On Christmas Eve? That’s boring! C’mon, lets go find Dewey!”
That was ‘Violets’ main goal. To find the blue duckling. Webby followed the young ones enthusiasm and they went on their quest to find him and when they did, he does his Dewey thing.
“Haha! Caught ya gorgeous!”
“Dewey! I’m not in the mood for one of your games right now!”
“....Dewey..?”
There he was. In the flesh. Not that he’d recognize her at his age. His main concern was getting Webby out of this funk.
“Would you do me a favour and get us down.”
“No.”
“Excuse me?”
“I said no. Not until you tell me what’s wrong.”
“Nothing’s wrong!”
“You’re such a bad liar Webby! I know somethings bothering you.”
“How could you possibly know that!? I haven’t been with you all day!”
“That’s how he knows somethings wrong! You two have been together for over a year now! And even before that, you guys are best friends, of course Dewey’s gonna know when somethings bothering the girl he loves. That’s why he set this all up. He just wanted to spend Christmas Eve with his girlfriend but you were too caught up in your own brooding to notice he was trying to help you- and I have to apologize to my family when I get home.”
“You set all this up.. for us?”
“Well yeah.. this is kind of our spot anyways.”
“Awh, Dewey Im so sorry.. I’ve just been so busy with something I don’t have, that I forgot the great guy I do have.”
“It’s alright, I’ve been there too, Angel.”
Seeing them both happy and in love brought a smile to ‘Violets’ face. This wasn’t something she saw often, and it made her slip up.
“That was some quick problem solving back there Violet. Your parents are lucky to have a such bright daughter.”
She then jumped into his arms hugging him tightly, she’d never had this chance before.
“Um.. okay.. this is happening now.”
“Sorry it’s just, I’ve never been able to spend Christmas with both my- cousins on my great aunt nephews brother side- yes, that was it.”
Dewey and Webby exchanged a look.
“You’re name’s not really Violet, is it?”
“Uhhhhhhh..”
It didn’t take long for Dewey to connect the dots. The girl’s determination to find him and wanting to spend Christmas with both him and Webby, he figured it out. But he knew that meant something else. He couldn’t worry about that now though, who knows when it happens? Before he and Webby sent her off, she left Dewey with this small bit of information.
“Dad-... Dewey!”
“Yeah?”
“It’s Skye.”
“What?”
“My name is Skye.”
Skye thought she could handle it on her own, with the help of her cousin Troy too, but she was wrong. Hiding it wasn’t right. Even with her good intentions.
The look of betrayal and distraught on both her twin brother and younger brother’s faces made her heart snap. She didn’t realize what she was doing until it was too late.
“Skye! What is up with you?!”
“Why are you being so strange! In case you haven’t notice this isn’t exactly the best time!”
She clenched the jacket and bag close to her.
“Because it belongs to Dad!”
“WHAT?!”
Chase, her twin, was furious.
“How do you know this belongs to Dad?!”
“Uh.. I’ve kind of been.. doing some research on him by myself.. only a little bit. I just looked him up in the Archives and when we made that stop to Ithaquack I spoke to the goddess Selene and god Storkules- aaaand this isn’t making my case better.”
“How could you not tell us about this!?”
“I was trying to protect you both in case Dad did something bad!”
“Yeah Okay! Or you just kept to yourself because you’re insecure about your place in this family! Typical Skye! He’s our father!”
“No! It’s not like that Chase! What happened was I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you guys to get hurt, then with all this new information and holes in the story I couldn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to hurt me! I’m sorry okay!”
“You’re only sorry because you got caught!”
While her twin called her out on her actions, her little brother stayed quiet, steadying his breath as he held his father’s jacket close. It was his dad’s. His father’s. The man he never met. Their father was around for the first two years of Skye and Chase’s life. Danny on the other hand, never knew his father, and having this piece of clothing in his arms, made him feel several things.
“Danny... are you okay?”
“You kept a secret about Dad... nothing about that is okay.”
Desperation. Ambition. Impulsion.
It was the last bit of information she needed. It was now or never. The truth about Dewey Duck.
Her eye was on the prize and nothing and nobody was going to hold her back. Not even her families cries.
Her cousin, Troy, who was with her since the start of the investigation pleaded to her first.
“This is insane Skye! Get back here! I know you want to learn about your dad but this isn’t the answer you’re looking for!”
Danny was next.
“I get it Skye! I want to know what happened to Dad too but you can’t risk all of us just find out what happened to someone we lost!”
Her Uncle Huey grabbed the walkie talkie, holding his son, Troy, close and pleaded to his niece.
“Skye sweetheart please, you have to get back here! I was in a similar situation to this a few decades ago! If your father was here he’d be telling you the same thing I am now! You need to get back here!”
Her twin, Chase, spoke out last.
“Skye, I miss Dad too, and I want to know where he is. But think about this. Mom and the others had to deal with losing him when it happened, and they pulled through together! Don’t you see? Our family is incredible! We’re enough! Let this go!”
Gritting her teeth as anger boiled her blood, she chucked the walkie talkie away.
Let this go?
No.
That wasn’t an option. Not when she was this close. And without knowing the truth about her dad, it would never be enough.
Louie looked on at his niece and watched as she slowly turned into Dewey when he was desperately seeking an answer about Della.
“She really is her father..”
The plane hit a snag and caused the duo to fall onto their bodies. Louie almost falling off the edge, and Skye crashing into the propeller. She looked up and saw the last piece. It was right there. She stood up and reached for it.
Louie pulled up close behind her. Begging and pleading.
“Skye please! I.. okay! I can’t protect you as much as I thought! Okay I said it! How can I get you to come back with me!”
Skye looked at her uncle, her hand crushing the paper, and her glare instense. She opened the paper up and her eyes scanned it. They widened as they looked over the image conveyed in front of them, a glimmer of sadness, tears forming in her eyes but she refused to let them fall.
“You want me to come back?”
“Yes! What can I do?!”
Skye held the paper up and into her uncle’s view as she yelled.
“Tell me what happened to my dad!”
Webby knows her babies are hurting. She’s been there. Losing Dewey was the hardest thing she ever went through. But her children are what kept her at bay. She needed to stay strong for them.
It’s what Dewey would’ve wanted.
When everything happened, Webby cut off ties with everyone and took her kids. She watched on her own as Danny hatched, and helped when he learned to walk and talk. Skye and Chase, despite both being two, helped as much as they could.
They all grew up with little or no memories of their father and it hurt Webby everyday to wake up with no one next to her. This wasn’t suppose to happen.
He promised her he wouldn’t make the mistake his mother did.
He swore he’d be there to see his children grow up.
But he lied.
Possibly.
Webby didn’t know. She had a constant clashing in her chest. Her husband made her have all these mixed emotions. She was angry and furious but she was also hurt and sad. She knows Dewey. She knows he loves her. He would never abandon her like this. There was more to the story, she knew that. But she didn’t know what.
She thought keeping her children away from the McDuck family would make them not want to be apart of adventures but silly her. They have her and Dewey’s DNA in them. Adventure is in their blood and core. Nothing was gonna stop these three rascals.
Letting them see their Uncle Louie, Uncle Huey and Aunt Shelly brought a new happiness to their lives, and she knew that.
But she never told them about their father. She wanted to but.. she was afraid telling them about him meant she’s accepted he’s truly gone. And she didn’t want to accept that. A small part of her believes he’s still out there. Somewhere. And that’s because of her kids. The lights of her life. The reason she looks forward to the mornings. All of them inhabit something from their father. And she took note of that every single day.
When she saw how distraught the truth made them, she had to tell them the rest.
“I get it you’re all upset. We were too. We all miss Dewey very much. But you three need to understand your Uncle Louie didn’t just give up on him. Louie tried everything to get him back. But if he tried anything else,he’d be broke and lost.”
“Broke and lost?”
“He really did try to get Dad back..”
“Well whatever Uncle Louie tried, it doesn’t matter, Aunt Shelly. We’re sticking with our true family. Right mom?”
“...No.”
“W-What?”
“Your Aunt Shelly is right. Louie did everything in his power to find your father. And to no avail. I don’t know exactly what he tried but that’s his brother. He wouldn’t leave him behind.. I walked away from this family before and that was a big mistake. The McDuck’s are always stronger when they’re together. I just.. I forgot that for a moment. But not again. We all need to stick together. Come here my babies.”
Tears welled up in her eyes, as they did in her two sons, who jumped into her arms and she held them tightly, allowing them to sob and let their tears out.
She looked up at her daughter, tears in her eyes.
Skye tried her best to keep her composure but she felt herself slowing falling apart.
“Skye, sweetie, I understand. You’re hurt. You’re sad, scared, and confused. Your father meant more to me than anything. I know what this is like. And it’s okay for you to be upset. Let yourself cry.”
She sniffed and looked down at her boys.
“If your father was here right now, he’d be incredibly proud of the three of you. Awh Danny, if he saw how your hair is when it’s zooshed back, he’d call you his mini him! And Chase, you were his little buddy, champ and warrior! The things you had him chasing you around for! And Skye, you were his baby girl and little princess. I never saw him have so much fun while teaching you how to walk. He was protective of you even when you were in your egg. I guess he knew the beautiful duckling you’d become. You three meant the world to him, and I know he’d give up his life if it meant you’d three are happy.”
Her daughter looked up, tears falling down her cheeks and ran into her mothers arms. She felt her brothers embrace her and the four of them all cried.
They all loved each other. And they all loved him. They knew if he was still out there, he’d be proud.
“We’ll stay strong for him.”
8 years.
He has spent 8 years alone on that orange rock, Mars that is.
Now being on another planet would usually sound like an exhilarating opportunity for Dewey but not when it meant he’d miss so many milestones and life on Earth.
When he first crashed, it was the week his son was suppose to hatch and he missed it.
Dewey did have his hands full at the time, as he had to deal with his right leg being crushed and unable to get it out. He looked around and had no other options.
Hey, Scrooge and Donald did say he reminding them of Della.
With his right leg now amputated, which he did so with the help of Della’s book, and Oxy-Chew on his side, still only Black Licorice flavoured, thanks Gyro.
Dewey has one goal. Get back home.
He missed his son’s hatching, he missed Danny’s first words and steps. He missed Skye and Chase’s birthdays and Danny’s too.
He missed anniversaries with Webby.
Man did he miss his wife.
Other than his kids, she was the only one in his thought.
“What was I thinking!? I just left Webby! And with three kids to raise! On her own! Ugh.. some husband and father I turned out to be..”
Was what he said on his first transmission.
Everyday he looked at their family portrait. Which was him holding Skye in his arms, Webby holding Chase in hers, and each of them placing one hand on Danny’s egg whom was placed in the middle of them.
His children and his wife, they were his motivation. He had to remind himself of that. He needed to get back to them. He needed to get back to her.
Each transmission Dewey tried his best to remain postive but it became harder as each year went on. Things became bleaker and he began to doubt that there was a way for him to get home.
During the 8th year on Mars, Dewey broke down. Collapsing on his knees, the tears he very rarely let fall, were pouring out like waterfalls as he sobbed into his own arms.
“I’ve tried everything! And nothing!”
He felt hopeless. He was stuck. Nothing he tried worked. And he didn’t know what else to do. He looked down at his wedding ring and choked back his tears. He couldn’t even begin to imagine the kind of state Webby’s in. 8 years of raising their kids on her own.. he felt terrible. He wants to be there for her but because of his own stupidity he’s stuck here.
A static sound caught Dewey’s attention. He looked over his shoulder and saw the tv he’d been working on the past few months. He walked over and placed his goggles on, connecting the wires and adjusting the satellite. He saw the picture appearing and heard the sound.
It was a live new casting.
“And all the magic in our town has gone away as Lena and Aurora De Spell have returned to normal and been reunited with Duckburgs saviors! Louie Duck and his family!”
Dewey’s eyes scanned the screen. He saw his younger brother in his green suit, smirking at the camera with his arm wrapped around Lena’s waist whom was in a dark purple gown and her hair had a light pink stripe in it. On the left side of the screen he saw Huey in a red shirt and white vest, with Troy whom was in a similar outfit as his father standing in front of him, and next to Huey he saw Shelly with a short low ponytail, a light blue sweater over her turquoise shirt with a blue skirt. Then on the right side of the screen he saw,
“Webby...”
She looked just a beautiful as ever even with the slight tired look in her eyes. He couldn’t help the small smile that reached his beak at the sight of his wife.
That smile slowly turned to a gape as he looked down at the three small figures standing in front of Webby.
Pink, Purple and Blue.
They were cheering and smiling at the camera. They all looked so familiar.
Dewey slowly placed his hand on the television and it hit him.
He gasped while lifting his goggles up and backed up to get a clear view of the trio.
“...Kids?”
-
They say history repeats itself because we don’t learn from the past.
But what if we do?
And we just make those decisions again hoping for a different outcome?
Or to make sure certain events happen?
History will always find its way to repeat itself.
And it hit the McDuck family in the hardest way possible.
#ducktales#ducktales 2017#ducktales au#alternate universe#history repeats itself#history repeats itself au#dewey duck#webby vanderquack#debbigail#huey duck#shelly duckling#huelly#louie duck#lena de spell#louna#next generation#next gen#next gen kids#skye duck#chase duck#danny duck#troy duck#aurora de spell duck#ducktales fanart#fanart#ducktales oc#ducktales ocs#ocs#original character#original characters
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Dinglehopper
“I will bring out those drinks. Please remember, the characters will come to your table; no need to follow them around. They will come by sometime during your meal.” Alicia, the waitress for our meal, smiles.
“Thank you!” Harry says while smiling widely. Alicia leaves the table and makes her way to the back to gather the drinks.
“Mum, do you think we will see Mary Poppins? I loved her last time.” Grace says across the table.
“Mary Poppins talks like us!” Ethan says with a smile.
“That’s right. She is from England! I’m not sure who we will see Grace. But that’s part of the fun, I think.” You reply.
“Like a big surprise.” Harry’s eyes widen as if he just said something exciting.
“I’m hungry. Can we eat?” Six year old Ethan states as his tummy begins to rumble under his floral button down; he gets his style from his father.
“Yes! Let’s go get some food.” Harry stands from his seat, pushing in his chair before helping Penny scoot out of hers. “I’ll help Squirt get some food; do yeh want to take Bug and Stud?” You nod your head and start to make your way behind Ethan and Grace as they make a mad dash towards the food.
“Want ‘icky awfuls.” Penelope wraps her hand around two of Harry’s fingers, leading the way towards the area filled with all different kinds of breakfast foods.
“Mickey waffles? Not pancakes?” His voice is higher pitched as he takes the piss out of his daughter who doesn’t think he is very funny.
“Icky awfuls, pwease.” Her sweet three year old voice melts Harry into a puddle, and he leads her towards the area filled with delicious smelling waffles. Penelope releases her father’s fingers, and he grabs one plate and a bowl, filling the plate with a waffle that is shaped like Mickey’s face.
“Should we get some fruit?” He asks his daughter.
“Staw-babies!!” Penny stands on her tippy toes and points to the beautiful red berries.
“Oh I love a good strawbaby!” Harry places a few of the plump berries on Penny’s plate, and begins to fill his bowl with yogurt, fruit and granola.
“Daddddddy.” Penny pulls on Harry’s striped trousers, and he feels her move behind his leg, almost as if she is hiding.
“Squirt? Wha’s the matter?” Harry looks down at his daughter, her eyes wider than sliced oranges.
“Wook…..” Her tiny yellow painted finger points towards a beautiful woman with red hair and a light blue dress that sparkles in the light. “Air-we-all.” She gasps, shocked at the princess that is having a conversation with a little boy at a table that is next to the buffet.
“Penny!!!” Grace runs towards her sister, the unexpected squeal making Penny jump slightly. “I see Ariel!! Daddy, I’ll go tell her to come talk to Penny.” Grace starts to walk towards the princess.
“Stop right there, Grace. Let her talk with the other kids first. When it’s our time, she will come.” Grace’s face and shoulders fall as if her father stole the excitement out of the sky and threw it in the trash.
“Okay.” She says quietly, making her way back to her plate to finish filling it up with pancakes and eggs.
“Air-we-all boo-ti-ful, daddy.” Penny creeps her body around his leg, her eyes glued on her favorite princess in the world. “I lob her.”
“I love her too, Squirt.” Harry chuckles softly at his daughter who is currently experiencing the same thing he did the first time he met Stevie Nicks. SHOCK. “Want anythin’ else, love?” Harry asks, attempting to distract her. Penelope just shakes her head slowly. “Okay, Squirt. Let’s go eat and then Ariel will come visit. Okay?”
“O-tay.” Loosening her grip on his leg, Harry and Penny make their way back to their table. Penny looks back multiple times, making sure the princess hasn’t disappeared.
“I want a Mickey Waffle!” Ethan says, looking at Penelope's plate, reaching over the table to get a better look, as Harry pours syrup on top of the cute breakfast pastry.
“No Eff, Penny icky awful!” The look she gives her brother makes him coil back to his seat and start to eat his cereal that is filled with Mickey Mouse marshmallows.
“Mumma! Did you see Ariel? Penny needs to meet her. Ariel is her favorite.” Grace says as she shoves a bite of pancake into her mouth.
“Yes. Ariel will come say hello. We have to be patient.” You say, cutting your pineapple piece in half before putting it in your mouth.
“Air-we-all, sooooo boo-ti-ful.” Penny says to you. Holding her fork with her whole hand, she stabs the strawberry and opens her mouth wide to take a big bite. “MMMM, wisious.” She says after she swallows.
“Dad! Dad! Dad!” Ethan taps Harry’s arm multiple times to get his attention. “Donald! I see Donald!!” Ethan drops his spoon into his bowl, splashing milk on the table as he watches the easily flustered duck come towards their table.
“Hi Donald!” Grace waves at the duck. She jumps from her seat, giving him a big hug. Ethan runs towards the character, holding up his hand so the duck can give him a high five.
“You're the best!” Ethan says to Donald, and the duck rubs Ethan’s head with his wing.
“Donald, this is Penny. This is her first time at Disneyland. Ethan and I have been here before.” Grace tells the character, giving him more information than he probably needs, but she feels that he should be informed.
Donald pauses and walks closer to Penny’s seat, her eyes wide as she watches this bigger than life duck move towards her. She leans back into Harry, and he rubs her shoulders in an attempt to comfort her.
“It’s okay, Squirt. He is a nice duck.” Harry says quietly, hoping that his words will help her feel calm and not scared. Donald holds his hand out towards the three year old, and she looks at his wing with darting eyes, examining the surface before lifting her hand slowly, and placing it on his.
Donald wraps his fingers around her softly, bringing her hand up to his beak, giving her a kiss by smacking his lips; the popping sound imitates a kiss and it makes her smile.
“Did he kiss you?” Harry’s voice is full of surprise as Penny pulls her hand back and giggles.
“I kiss ducky?” Penny asks, shrugging her shoulders.
“You can kiss him. Wanna give him a hug?” You ask your daughter. Penny shakes her head yes as she scoots her bum off her chair, wrapping her arms around his round soft belly, squeezing him as tightly as she can.
“Kiss.” Penny says, tapping his beak, Donald leans down so it is at her level. Penelope moves towards the duck, puckering her lips and giving him a big wet smooch. Donald leans back, clutching his hands on his heart.
“Will you sign my book?” Ethan asks, holding out his encyclopedia of characters that is open to Donald’s page. Nodding his head, Donald takes the pen from Ethan and signs his book, along with Grace’s and Penny’s. Pictures are taken before Donald moves on to the next table with a wave goodbye.
“I like him!” Grace says, taking another bite of her pancake.
“Me too. He is my favorite of Mickey’s friends.” Ethan states before shoving another spoonful of cereal in his mouth. Penny seems content as she moves a piece of waffle into her mouth. Harry rubs her leg and she smiles, kicking her feet back and forth with happiness.
Grace looks across the room, noticing that Ariel has moved on to another table, but still isn’t over at heir table. Standing up, Grace takes her plate.
“I’m gonna get some, um, more… blueberries.” Her eyes dart back and forth and it makes Harry think that she is acting weird.
“Want me to come with?” Harry asks with a smile.
“No thank you. I’m eleven, dad, remember. I can do it.” Grace turns, making her way towards the buffet area, keeping her eyes on Ariel the whole time. It looks like Ariel is on her last table in that section and Grace has an idea.
Filling her plate with blueberries, she watches as the princess continues the conversation with a little girl. When the princess finishes the conversation with a picture, Grace decides it’s time to make her move. Rushing towards the princess, blueberries rolling all over her plate, Grace touches her arm softly.
“Um, Ariel.” Grace is nervous as she has never approached someone like this before, but it’s for her baby sister, so this will be worth it.
“Oh hello there.” Ariel turns around, giving Grace her full attention.
“My sister loves you. Like you are her favorite princess. Can you come to our table? We are just right there. This is her first time, and this will make her so happy. Please? Only for a minute. I promise it won’t take long.” Grace begins to ramble, much like her mother does when she gets nervous.
“Yes. Let’s go see your sister. Can you take me to her?” The princess is kind and even though people aren’t supposed to bring the characters to their table, she is willing to move to that table before continuing on her route around the restaurant. “What is her name?”
“Penelope! Or you can call her Penny. She is over here. She is wearing a yellow shirt and a crown! We went and had princess makeovers yesterday.” Grace grabs Ariel by the hand, leading her towards the table. When they reach the table, Grace moves towards her seat, setting her plate down on the table. Penny has her back turned and cannot see the princess.
“Princess Penelope?” Ariel asks softly. Penny turns her head around so fast her hair flips against her chair. You watch as her eyes grow bigger than Flounder as she takes in the person in front of her.
“Air-we-all!” She gasps, scooting off her chair, fork still in her hand. Penny wraps her arms around Ariel in a hug that mirrors that of her father. The hug lasts long as she tucks her head into the princess, holding onto the moment and refusing to let it pass.
“What do you have here?” The princess asks after Penelope pulls back from the hug. Ariel points towards the fork in her hand.
“Dwigle-hoppa!” The smile on Penny’s face lights up the room as she knew what Ariel calls the utensil.
“Oh I have one of these. Very useful.” Ariel wrinkles her nose as she replies to the three year old.
“I agree. Very useful!” Harry comments, throwing you a wink, making you roll your eyes in response.
Ariel signs each of the children’s books, writing a special note to Penny. Each child takes their turn having their picture taken and Penny refuses to pose in anything except a hug. It is time for Ariel to move on to the next table, and she begins her goodbyes.
“Goodbye friends. Have a wonderful day!” Ariel says waving her hand at the Styles family.
“I lob you!!” Penny says, blowing a kiss in her hand and whispering “go to Ariel”, giving the kiss it’s instructions on who it is meant for. With a kiss blown back, the Princess moves to the next table.
“Did you like that, Penny?” Grace asks her little sister who is sitting at the table, not sure of what to do as the shock of seeing her favorite princess in the world has still not worn off.
“Dat was AH-MAZ-ING!!!!!!!!” Penny squeals at the top of her lungs, making the family giggle at her response. Penny digs her fork into the food that is on her plate, taking another bite of strawberry, as they enjoy the rest of the morning meeting characters and making memories that will last forever.
A/N: I am so glad I have such as sweet creature in my life to push me and help me grow daily. thank you @whoopsharrystyles I love you Butterfly much and so much more.
Read NOW on Wattpad!!
#Please send me feedback#The adventures of Harry and Grace#dinglehopper#Harry and three children#harry styles#harry styles fan fic#harry styles fanficiton#harry styles fan fiction#dad harry#dad!harry#harry styles imagine#harry styles imagines#family#harry series#original writing
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Natter # 12 12/06/2020
Subject: Re: MI MG Natter # 12 12/25/20 - The Christmas edition
On Wed, Dec 9, 2020 at 11:28 PM Gordon Polson <
> wrote:
Today, (Sunday 12/06/20) - I was reminded of the course we ran at Shoreline a couple of years ago on 'Latin for Gardeners'. If you didn't see it, the Seattle Times ran a great article on the selfsame topic in their "At home in the NW" Sunday supplement and it too makes great reading. It rather simplifies the subject and makes it very digestible, which is probably why our class went down so well. If you have never given much thought to horticultural Latin you should check this article out, it is very refreshing and understandable.Let's face it, the use and understanding of it is vital to really knowing what you are growing, and if you have any intent to raise plants from cuttings or divisions to be sold at the Plant Sales, it is essential. With positive ID you will have access to correct soil treatments, pruning, if it is poisonous or fragrant, has spines or flowers and so on. The article was based on a new book entitled "The Gardeners Botanical: An encyclopedia of Latin Plant Names" written by Ross Blayton who comes via the University of Reading (UK), Kew Gardens (UK) and Heronswood. The writer of the article proposes that a little botanical Latin self-study might make better use of some of your gardening off-season hours than re-watching that TV series that you already watched umpteen times already. 'Sounds reasonable. The book costs $30 - $40 or so at Amazon and I have ordered my copy already locally. Our veggies have not done quite so well this year and the outlook is not exactly encouraging either. Jean has a double row of 3 foot high pots along our southern exposure. Well, not exactly an exposure anymore. When we first lived here, we were able to grow a mass of all different veggies, fruit and flowers. Then after a few years another couple built a house next door to the south and erected a close-together row of evergreen trees right on the property line. I complained at the time to the husband that they would grow to be too big and he agreed that he would top the trees when they had knitted together. I wasn't going to tell him that topping was a bad idea - I wanted the trees gone. Two years or so on, they divorced and now the trees are higher than our roof and totally block any sun from reaching the pots until high noon on the longest day of the year. They have also bushed out into our garden, further reducing usable space. In addition, my Banana grove has now reached around 12 trees which effectively blank the western end so that the setting sun, which used to help out, is now totally blocked and it looks like this will be the last year we will be able to grow there. I can and will reduce the bananas but that will only allow a minimal amount of light in, unfortunately. In addition to this, the borrowed raised beds in which I used to grow tomatoes, onions. leeks, lettuce etc, have now been removed as the house has been sold. Right now I am trying to find out if the PeaPatch program will still be operating in 2021 at Luther Burbank and if so, will there be any going spare, 'Not having a deal of luck just yet, but we shall see. Now with Christmas just around the corner, I get a bit maudlin and my thoughts tend to dwell on the past a lot. All the wonderful Christmasses we had during the war, which somehow seems a contradiction in terms. My Dad was one of eight children and my Mum one of four sisters and thus our Christmasses were crowded, exuberant, noisy and memorable. Uncles, Aunts and cousins wherever you looked and the food was to die for. I frequently threw up! Christmas Eve was always lovely. Walter next door would always take his daughter Mary, my sister Joan and me to the Watch Night Service at St Dunstan's church in the village, right at the top of the hill. Just across the road is ' Whitehall' - a large wooden house from Henry VIII time and still standing and in use today, It always seemed to be freezing cold on these nights and the footpath would sparkle with frost and would ring as you walked on it. It was about a mile and a half to the church I suppose, but we talked constantly on the way and it seemed to take no time at all to get there. These sort of night walks were pure magic during this early part of the war when nothing much was happening, The Blackout was total. No streetlights, not a trace of a chink of light from houses or pubs and only the occasional glow from a bus or commercial vehicle driving slowly behind headlamps that were about 90% covered over. The night was like black velvet studded with millions of stars. There were so many to be seen, all twinkling away, from horizon to horizon. The number of shooting stars were legion - they would pop into view every few seconds. As I said, it was a magical time. This was before my Dad joined the Navy in 1942 and was sent to India, never to be seen again until 1947. Before he left we would frequently visit his sister Jessie and family. They lived about 45 minutes away by 213 bus down by the Beverly Brook. Uncle Jimmy had a large aviary in his back garden which I loved and of course, there was always my cousin Janet, for whom I always had a crush. Our visits always seemed to last for ages, which meant that when we left it would usually be in darkness. Leaving their house we would walk about half a mile to the bus stop and catch the 213 again which would drop us near the end of our road about 45 minutes later. Halfway along our road there was an intersecting alleyway that sort of crossed the road. It provided rear access to people's gardens and was okay during the day - everything could be seen. But this was now, and now was as black as the ace of spades with nothing in either alleyway visible - just a deep black void.
I was seven, my sister ten. The only illumination would be by small penlight torch, supplied by a #8 battery - which were always in short supply, so you rarely switched it on so as to save the juice - not that the light was ever more than a sort of sickly, flickering, yellow light! My Dad would take our hands, one on each side and as we walked down the road, with Mum trailing, he would start telling a made-up story that we loved, even though it terrified. And so, in a very low, slow and deep voice, he would start talking, timing the tale to culminate at the alleyway. "In a dark, dark town, there was a dark, dark road. And in that dark, dark road there was a dark, dark alley. And in that dark, dark alley - THERE WAS A GHOST! This last bit almost yelled loudly and quickly and we would both jump - every time. It was great! At the top of the hill in Cheam Village proper was St Dunstan's - my church and was intimately connected with the school I attended from 8 till 11 years old. All the Saints days were kept and the whole school would walk to the church in a crocodile. It wasn't a very 'high' church but it was special to me at any rate - I love it still. It is totally built of stone and although old it is not the ancient sort of building to be found in many other places. St Dunstans itself has been serving the community for over 1000 years, although this current building has only been there since 1864. Turning left off the main Malden Road up to the Lych Gate, through the graveyard, and through the main heavy oaken doors, deeply studded with large, square-headed iron nails, you would catch that delicious scent of pine and cedar, overlaid with an occasional whiff of incense as you walked to your pew, surrounded by candles, hundreds of candles, to the low muttering of the organ, as people talked in hushed tones. I love the feeling that these churches propagate in me. I always feel that my voice has to be low, quiet and reverent, as the history all around soaks in by osmosis. For this service, it always seemed warmer than on other occasions, although I doubt that it would have kept people away if it had been as cool as it normally seemed. The Reverend Dr Hayman, was our resident vicar - a very softly spoken, nice man whose large Vicarage is built next to the Whitehall, which was on the corner of Anne Boleyn's Walk. He preached great sermons and on these special occasions, it was a delight to hear him. There was always a Creche a little behind the.lecturn with bunches of chrysanthemums and greenery spread about. The service was liberally sprinkled with hymns and carols which I loved. My friend Ken Coleman was in the choir and he always looked out of character wearing his choirboy's surplice with it's high white collar. He was never able to convince me that he was as angelic as he appeared!I loved to sing but I could never summon the courage to apply to the choir, but I did sing descant to many of the carols and hymns for my own pleasure. The service always seemed to be over almost before it had started and then it was back down the hill to home. Goodnight to Walter and Mary, a mug of cocoa and so to bed, making sure that stockings were appropriately hung at the mantelpiece.
Four of my good friends were married at St Dunstan's, but Jean and I were married at St Lawrence's (built in 1636) as this was Jean's parish church in Morden, but somehow I always felt a bit cheated that I hadn't been married at St Dunstan's.
My sister and I always managed to wake early on Christmas morning, just to make sure that the stockings had been filled. The house would be quite cold at this time as there was no insulation - I don't think the technology existed at this level then. Some heating was provided by a coke-fired boiler in the kitchen which supplied domestic hot water via a hot water tank inside an airing cupboard in the bathroom above, making the bathroom a favorite place to start the day. To even the temperatures throughout the house meant lighting coal fires in the individual rooms each day so that the morning took a little time to reach comfort level. My Dad also had a great habit of preparing Sunday breakfast, frying tomatoes in pork or bacon fat in a tart pan on top of the boiler. They would simmer for ages and reduce to a jam-like consistency which was wonderful spread warm over bread and butter. The windows were all single glazed and a glass of water left overnight on the bedside table would be solid ice come the morning. It all had the benefit of making one move with alacrity first thing. There were no turkeys - I don't think anybody had even heard of them, I certainly hadn't, but there would be a chicken, a leg of roast Pork with the skin still on, which had been slashed through in parallel strips, - which went crispy when roasted and were delicious (Crackling) Plus the usual and expected, brussels sprouts, roast parsnips, pork chipolatas (thinnish delicious pork sausages) roast and mashed potatoes, stuffing, Yorkshire pudding and gravy. Dessert was a flaming Christmas Pudding served hot with custard or Brandy Butter and containing lucky silver threepenny bits, so you had to watch out for your teeth This was served around 1- 2 pm, following which the adults would collapse about the place after the dishes had been washed and put away and the children were expected to go for a walk in the park taking Jock, our dog.Taking an extended walk through Cheam Park and into Nonsuch Park we would return a bit muddy and Jock would be carrying his usual gift of a tree branch or quite frequently a lump or two of horse manure in his mouth! He was something of a gourmet! Coming through the door we would find everybody sitting around drinking tea or other brown liquids from glasses, the men smoking cigars whilst they reminisced about Christmasses past, with frequent and not understood (by us) references to past indiscretions - always good for a laugh from them. After a while, there would be a slightly uncomfortable movement towards getting tea ready, which meal was usually served around 7 pm. The table would be set with the usual stiff white linen table cloth on which were placed all manner of great dishes, almost all of which were served cold. There was cold, sliced pork and ham, celery sticks in a special crystal vase. This was a wonderful, slightly pink celery which would be eaten out of hand, dipping one end into a pile of salt on the edge on the plate and eaten with bread & butter. Unfortunately, this variety of celery seems to have disappeared ever since the easier to grow 'Pascal' green celery was introduced. I have never been able to find it in seed catalogues either here or back home, but the flavor was far superior to the self-blanching types extant. Under EU rules if you wanted to keep a variety growing you had to pay some exorbitant fee to the EU government and since the Pascal variety was easier to grow and thus cheaper to produce, this is the one that was sold and so it was too expensive to maintain the pink line I suppose and it is probably lost to cultivation now. So short sighted and sad - just one victim of hundreds. Then there were fruit jellies (Jello here) containing little bits of the appropriate fruit, blancmanges in strawberry and lemon flavors - all of these would be made in fancy-shaped jelly moulds and then turned out upside down on a plate and served from there. And trifle, always trifle! There would also be a bowl of Libby's fruit salad, plus hot Mince pies, sausage rolls and maybe slices of cold Christmas Pud and finally - 'The Cake'.This is a very traditional cake with minor variations served at Christmasses, Weddings and sometimes Christenings. It is based on a Dundee fruit cake which is NOT, I hasten to add, anything like the much-maligned, so-called fruit cakes I have seen here thank goodness. The ones that I have seen look like a pile of dried fruit, bound together somehow into a block, which then seems as if it was varnished all over to a high gloss. No wonder they have a foul reputation.
The Dundee top has a pattern of almonds on it and the whole outside is given a layer of marzipan, which is then coated in Royal Icing. It is superb. Well made, it is capable of lasting in edible condition for years if stored correctly. At weddings, where there are tiered cakes, any that remains is cut into slices, packed in special little boxes and sent to those friends and relatives who were unable to make the event. My brother-in-law Denis used to take prizes for this cake when he entered it in the local Summer fair. One tradition in eating this cake is to accompany it with slices of a strong, nutty cheese. it cuts the richness and seems to enhance the flavor the same way it does if eaten with apple pie! When once we get back to some semblance of normality, I will have to make one for our traditional 'Bun Fight.' This isn't an empty threat - I made my sister's wedding cake and it went over very well - a real labor of love. Do not imagine for one moment that I will take NO for an answer either! Along with delicious food, there of course, have to be Christmas Crackers and these are handed around, pulled and their contents worn, laughed over or played with. All this largesse was obviously not a daily event. Rationing was severe and continued long after the war was over, right into 1952 and became even more severe than it had been during the war. Ration coupons had to be saved for months just for this one special event. The Christmas puds were made a couple of months in advance and the whole family was expected to take a stir of the mixture (very stiff) as you made a silent wish. To get a true Christmas Pudding takes an awful lot of fruit and other goodies. It also takes about eight hours of steaming in a china basin. After it has cooled, the cloth covering needs to be changed for a clean one and the whole thing stored until needed. When that time arrives, it then has yet another cloth tied over the top of the basin and it is steamed for another four or five hours and served hot as I mentioned. I think it is a wonderful thing to eat, hot or cold but I cannot persuade our daughter in law to even try it. I have to admit that it is very rich but the flavor and mouthfeel are superb. I should also mention that the recipe was formulated when people actually worked physically most days, even if it was just walking to and from shops or whatever - nobody owned a car except our local MD Dr Kerr and so you could work the extra pounds off without even knowing that you were doing so. Then of course comes Boxing Day, a wonderful and most sensible institution. Christmas Day is so hectic and filled with - food, that you really need another day to recover. When you consider that in the States, people travel hundreds of miles to get home for just the one day and then struggle back, frequently battling snow and lousy weather to return the following day, it is positively savage. Boxing Day is all about relaxing. You wake up late-ish - if you want. Have a leisurely breakfast, maybe read the paper, then get dressed and walk around to visit friends. You are invited in and partake of maybe a glass of wine, sherry, beer or just tea/coffee, along with a few comestibles to nibble on as you talk about whatever. After an hour or so, you move on to another favorite friend's house, or not and repeat the process. This can go on all day, or you can return home and be visited in turn. Frequently a long bracing walk is called for after the previous day's excesses and so you are gradually allowed to return to normal.Of course one of the joys of the aftermath of Christmas is that there is always lots remaining, leading to cold meat sandwiches, eggs and bread fried in pork or chicken fat - absolutely delicious, toasted bread spread with both of those fats including the dark jelly at the bottom of the bowl. And one of my personal delights - 'stealing' strips of cold meat from the leavings.This all has to carry you through until Springtime as New Year isn't celebrated the way it is here.
As I reached my teens New Year was celebrated by my friends and me by trooping up to Trafalgar Square in London, but that is a tale for another time, so I will say goodnight for now. Your fearless leader. Gordon
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‘All My Children’ and CSI: Miami’s Eva LaRue on Love, Loss and Motherhood
A new interview has been released 24 hours ago by Closer Weekly.
On June 26, nearly five decades since she began her screen acting career at age 6, Eva LaRue won her first Daytime Emmy for The Young and the Restless. “It was such a beautiful, full-circle thing,” Eva, 53, tells the latest issue of Closer, on newsstands now.
Just three months earlier, she lost a “great friend,” her second ex-husband and dad to her daughter Kaya, John Callahan. “The first time I was nominated was for my [1997 All My Children] storyline with John. I learned how to act with him, so it was super meaningful on a deeper level. I felt like he was shining down, and happy.”
The CSI: Miami alum is currently single, but says she and Kaya, 18, “just wake up, take a deep breath and take on whatever we’re supposed to.” For Eva, that’s been a surprise Pure Flix series she’s excited about, Finding Love in Quarantine. Closer talked with Eva about her life and one of her greatest lessons: “How to heal, forgive and move forward.���
While most actors are hunkering down, you’re still working. How did it happen?
I had worked with Pure Flix on a [2015] movie, Dancer and the Dame. [The filmmakers] asked, “Would you be interested in this little short-form series? We’re going to shoot it literally like you’re in quarantine! [Pure Flix co-founder] David White and his daughter Ocean are going to film from their house, and we’ll do your side with Stacey Dash — you two will be the only ones working together.” We had our COVID tests, and a minimal crew, so it worked out great!
Many fans know you from All My Children. How did that experience shape you?
I was there off and on for [about] 10 years. I was dead for [years], then came back from the dead! [Laughs] I met John there, and we fell in love as our characters were falling in love. Then our characters got married, and we followed suit and got married. Our characters had kids, and then we had a kid! All My Children was my first big break, and it was such an amazing family of people there. A lot of them are still really good friends.
Lots of fans also know you from your 2005-12 run on CSI: Miami. Was there a big difference going to a nighttime series?
Oh, huge! Doing a soap opera, sometimes I had 75 pages of dialogue a day. On nighttime TV, the most you’re going to shoot is like eight pages, and that’s across the entire cast. But on a procedural, there’s a lot of science jargon. It’s like speaking another language.
What was your time on the show like?
It was an amazing experience. We had such a great cast. The best part ways, even though what we were doing was heavy and dark , the actors had such great senses of humor! Each one should have been on a sitcom or dramedy, because they were all so funny and so much fun to be with. Going to set was really a treat.
Do you have any personal career highlights?
I had great experiences doing movies of the week, like The Annette Funicello Story. Playing her was such a blessing. Even when John and I got to host Miss America [in 1997], that was incredible. I’ve been lucky to have jobs on two shows that had such longevity. I got to make a second family at both of them.
Did you get to know Annette Funicello?
She was on set the whole time! She shared a lot of her experiences, and her mom was like an encyclopedia about Disney, Walt Disney and everything. It was amazing!
You started young in the business, too.
My first job was a Del Monte green beans commercial, and my first voice-over job was for A&W Root Beer: I sang the jingle when I was 7. I did a bunch of print work and commercials, and then didn’t really work again until I was in my teens doing dinner theater shows. I was dancing and singing then, and started acting just as I was graduating from high school.
You also did beauty pageants.
I won the Miss Riverside County pageant and was supposed to go on to Miss California, but I ended up getting my first movie. So I gave up the title to the first runner-up and went to Italy to shoot a really bad movie, The Barbarians. But it didn’t matter; it was my first movie and I was so excited!
Your first husband from 1992-94 was John O’Hurley. Was he anything like his J. Peterman character on Seinfeld?
[Laughs] There was a funny, pretentious character that he would go into at home when he was goofing around, even before he did Seinfeld. We’re still great friends.
Did any moment change your life?
Three hundred people auditioned for my CSI role, but the executive producer happened to be a fan of my All My Children character. So getting [that soap opera] changed my life: I found my [second] husband, had my daughter and got a nighttime career from daytime.
You were wed to businessman Joe Cappuccio from 2010-14. What lessons did you take from your three marriages?
It’s more about forgiving yourself, no matter what somebody else did. It’s human to blame the other person. But when we process it, we see things we didn’t do the way we wish we had. I wasn’t really able, until the last five to 10 years, to say, “I need to not focus on anybody else. I have to look at things I don’t like about me.”
How have you been doing since losing John Callahan?
It’s been a roller coaster, losing a co-parent and somebody who’s been a great friend for your entire adult life. He was still on my emergency contact lists and always wanted to know my travel plans. He’d check in when I landed and got back home again [to see if ] I was safe. Nobody else was caring on that level. I will miss that forever.
Was it a sudden passing?
Yes, he went to the hospital for routine heart procedures and was supposed to spend the night for surveillance, but he was so afraid of catching COVID that he insisted on leaving. The next day Kaya was going to stay with him, but the morning after he had a stroke and passed away that night. Somebody broke into his house four days later and stole his car, laptop, checkbooks and identity. They took out almost $80,000 in loans and $75,000 from one of his accounts before we could tell institutions that he had passed. The wagons are circling around this person. We just want it all to end, and to be able to grieve without the extra stress.
How did being a mom change your life?
It changed everything. The reason being a parent isn’t easy is because we see so much of ourselves in our kids … some great things, and what we don’t like. When they become teenagers, all those things come back to bite you in the ass! You think, what am I not liking about her behavior? Something I do, probably! [Laughs]
Given your new show, have you been trying to find love in quarantine?
Right now it hasn’t been a priority, [and it won’t be] until I figure out if Kaya’s going away to college. With all that’s going on, we’re being trained to accept things. Instead of freaking out, it’s: “Just give us the task and we’ll get back to you.” It’s kind of good! [Laughs]
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Wednesday, February 15, 2017
10:04 a.m. day started sunny, but clouds predicted, temp to fall again and then rise again - yesterday morning on the subway I got into talking with a young man - showed him how my smart phone goes to Contandino, wherever that may be, for weather - he showed me, slide over and get New York! And so I learn in small increments - Cathy taught me to text, Jane Sammon showed me to out in contacts - now I would like to change my message for voice mail - I dislike all those giving you the number you cslled, Jane has a long and personal one, also I would like to change my ring tone to a less generic one - and alas Igor was moved to Queens, and I struggle with the ipad and I'm getting nowhere - it is a snail's progress - also Molly had no time last week, I hope she'll come tomorrow - so at last I would find out how to access the blog she has set up - just now I once again added a dozen names Bcc one by one - never know in the end to whom I have I have sent this - want to let Gesine who has been posting for me in Germany - but then again she uses wordpress and Molly used Tumblet - it all is dreadfully, dreadfully confusing - and yes, if only Ken still lived - and yes if only my learning had not become so slow - obviously if I could this myself - would save my wonderful helpers their time - oh well - and so, in 1937, both of us stateless, I have no idea what document my mother showed to get into Czechoslovsakia - her Czech practically non existent - she did speak French, Francophile she was - we must have stayed a few nights with her desar friends the Rosners who all perished later - and then she took me to Troppau/Opava where her parents then lived by the Oder river, fertile soil, access to a garden, my grandfather a great gardener, growing most of their food, they had geese, chickens - pigs were very useful but I don't think they had one - they were tenents in a very simple house - and there my mother left me - and I was told that every night I would cry - my Koeln, my Koeln, I so loved Koeln, my dear friend Helga - why oh why did we have to leave - little explanation given - my mother later saying - she was so good in Koeln, now she is a fresh little rebel. She was a walking encyclopedia but her friends had rejected Freud's teachings - big mistake. At 5 Hitler had turned me into a rebel - as today countless children are turned into early rebels by the misery a terrible emprire brings to them. o.k. so much is saved in drafts, Last night I wrote more than I had planned - L.P. with whom I had lunch asked a bit incredulously - do you read what you write before you send it - as incredulously when I was teaching E.S.L. people asked, do you make lesson plans - well you could call my style spontaneity, improvisiation - and then again you could call - just plain unbelievable and why should I read this crap. (she still is reading it.) Well, why don't I act and behave like the proper German lady my mother tried hard to make out of me. Hitler! The gestapo - secret police - came to search our apartment in Koeln - I was five - my mother had suitcases packed and as soon as they left the house we were on our way to the railroad station and headed for Prague - not sure how many km - but a good seven hours by train - and my mother must have been very nervious about the border - while in 1918 her family in Oderberg - now a Czech name - had gone to bed as citizens of the austro Hungarian empire, they woke up citizens of Czechoslovakia - Masaryk's country, a wonderful country - only alas they ever learned Czech - my grandmother spoke a mountain dialect called ponashemo - which would translate into, the way we speak, that must have been Slovak. My grandfather lost a job he loved - locomotive engineer - they came to survive on bare subsistence. In Vienna my Ph.D. mother scored one of the rarest teaching post - at the Hayes Gymnasium - the director aghast she was a Czech citizen, five socialist friends offered to marry her, she liked Fritz Jerusalem best, but not the name so she married Karl Spitz in a Jewish fashion, after a year all he had to say was I divorce thee. By then she had met my father but could not marry him because that would make her lose her job that kept both of them - but then she did marry him when she followed him to Koeln, but after she signed off Jewish in early 1933 both she and I became stateless. Enough to make a weirdo out of me who has been winging things in life - and feel sorry for people who spend nights doing lesson plans and who spend days on writing a letter Yes, those empires - Hitler said his would last 1000 years - it lasted for the first 13 years of my life - and while I can feign being a lady I can also be a gutter snipe - and many hold it against me that I am not sweet and even tempered and at all times the nice and quiet Marianne - who - and I shall name her here, Martha Hennessy, the grand daughter of Dorothy Day said to me: I will talk to you when you are the sweet Marianne I love - she too has not studied enough Freud - and I must forgive her because she has no idea how hurtful she is and how she has ruined a good friendship with C.B. - I will always like her - but my feelings are changed forever. I am not alone to write in the style I am writing - many writers describe what some call "automatic writing" - what I write, writes itself -and now I think I will head for the Polish church - where I came to sit at a round table - with Chinese. They encouraged me to get more of the tons of free food - all from Poland - on the stage - they were ready to hire a truck - I took a heavy jar of baked red cabbage, not yet opened, raspberry marmalade, petit beurre - the Chinese grab tons everywhere - perhaps they find ways to sell it - who knows - they did have some trouble with the Chinese labels. My dark Prague humor is a great help - I see absurdity everywhere and try to laugh about it - have learned only very few share my humor - it's the humor of the suppressed. Czech marionettes are playing nearby, I would love to see them, perhaps I should check, if they are here already perhaps I could go tonight alone. I do meet lovely Czechs on such occasions - wonderful people - alas all in all I have no contact with Czechs - I am not a Czech - my accent is German and there are a good number of Germans in my life, we do have a common language - and those my age - we lived through the war. Of course those in good circumstances did become ladies - have often trouble understanding me - would never ever send out what I do - rude, they tell me, recently: never would I publish what YOU write - oh well - they were in the Hitler youth - I was not - I was in the streets playing with the Czech kids. Proletarians - that my socialist mother idealized - but much preferred the aristocrats and lauded their values. All confusing So, it is 11 - my witching hour - though the Poles begin to serve lunch 12.15, 12.25 - they are not Germans. My polish neighbor here, using two names, Barbara and Halina, first too me there. She had been offered my apartment facing the Bowery but had waited for the quiet apartment to the back - I would die she said, if I could not sleep with an open window. She had finished medical studies in Poland but had not gotten American certification and was a research assistsnt at the cancer hospital - lover her work, lived way beyong her means, one day her boss dropped dead, end of job, she buried in debt - ended up in this here house, the first day she said to me: let's study radiology, we will make good money as radiologists - not my plan. She loved taking me to the church - she was one of many Poles who admire Germans. And then - she had a severe stroke and ended miserably, her sweet brother taking care of her - she died before signing some important paper for him - I trried to help him but he was evicted. He told me I restored his belief in humanity. Sweet man. Alas almost all Poles are anti-Semites - I try being Jana Landre. Most Catholics also.. Horrible noise in the hallway, I'll go out and see what they are doing - and head for the Polish church on East 7th street and sit with the Chinese - only 4 at a table for 7 - the Poles are not keen on an English speaker. The Chinesetalk to me in Chinese. o.k.nread and all, here I go to send - please be forgiving Marianne
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We are professionally trained, insured and certified in all areas of tiling service. We do cooking area remodelling, basement renovation and bathroom restorations too as part of home renovations. All these facelifts are offered for different spending plan scenarios. Steven of B & S Ceramics did a dazzling job tiling in my daughter's home. Most expert, fantastic attention to detail, outstanding worth for loan. Appropriate builders, plumbers or any other tradesman then get in contact with a cost, timescale and info about how they will deal with the job.
In some cases, you may choose to use a credit card to fund your home remodellings. Getting a charge card that has a 0% interest introductory duration might be the very best option you produce moneying your house remodellings. This gives you a long time to make payments on the card without paying interest. Steven just recently finished the tiling in our brand-new bathroom. Really delighted with the work, all finished to a high standard. Tidy and extremely cool. We would extremely recommend to others.
Contemporary open plan living spaces need aesthetically pleasing storage to be in consistency with its surroundings. Our custom joinery and carpentry services can also be utilized for cooking areas, staircases, windows and flooring finishes to make your home exactly as you desired it. Our Interior Design Team has the ability to include joinery styles into 'virtual tours' using CAD technology allow you to imagine your home prior to the works even start.
I am a self-employed plumber. On Saturday 25th April I went to Maidstone with my grandson to see a guy called Mr RAMHAN. I have actually done great deals of work for him in the past, including constructing a restaurant for him. I existed to take a look at Mr RAMHAN's cooking area and to get some plans for another task for which Mr RAMHAN had recommended me. Mr RAHMAN lives in Chancery Lane, Maidstone. I showed up and parked on the concrete right in front of his house. My van has a sign saying "Bathroom Design and Installations". I looked at the cooking area and after that left Mr RAMHAN's home to pick up the strategies from his pal who lived round the corner.
Evaluation proposals, compare Kitchen area Tiling prices and select the best regional Cooking area Tilers for your task. We had Steven back to lay floor covering in our bathroom, he did a very first class job as soon as again, takes pride in his work at a sensible cost. Carl tiled my bathroom utilizing marble tiles and also returned to do another small tiling job for me. Very expert and tiling looks fantastic. Would advise and would utilize once again.
Any specialist you use must be taking part in the HRI plan. This indicates they are registered for Value Included Tax (BARREL) in Ireland and are tax-compliant. You can see if your specialist is a HRI certifying contractor by examining HRI online in Revenue's myAccount before the work begins, to see if they have actually gone into details of the works to be finished at your home. If a number of professionals, such as an electrical expert, a plumber and a home builder, carry out certifying work on your house or rental home, you can integrate the cost of the works to comprise the minimum qualifying amount - see 'Rates' listed below.
Stephen Spink - Tiler Stephen undertook our task within a week of him seeing our kitchen area. I would state this is quite quick. The work carried out was excellent. It was a 2.5 day task and he didn't stop for a minute. He is a totally credible tradesperson and extremely expert. I thoroughly recommend him. My other half & I can't believe how stunning the tiles look.
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Wayne is a really expert tiler, all his work was top notch, always on time very respectful, Really pleased with his work tiling our bathroom Fully advise. Kiwi Style and Build specialise in high end, superior quality house remodellings and extensions. We can help you realise the house of your dreams which provides design and substance. Steven Spink has just completed our bathroom tiling and has actually made an outstanding job. I would highly advise him to anybody.
For those embarking on a self-build or home enhancement project, HomebuildingRenovating is the go-to guide for skilled advice, every action of the every issue of HomebuildingRenovating, you'll discover: Informative guidance, ideas and buying guidance from industry professionals, helping you complete your job on time and within budget.Inspiring case research studies of genuine house restoration and structure jobs, tailored to be undertaken by all levels of experience.
Simply had Steven Spink the tiler to do some cosmetic work on our bathroom. What an expert!! Phoned, shown up when he said he would and did a wonderful task for https://avs-building-services.co.uk/wood-flooring/ us two extremely picky people !! Have definitely no doubt in highly recommending him. Have asked him back for another job. House Renovation Pros offered us impeccable service. We had design both our kitchen and bathroom. Our cabinets look wonderful. Our kitchen is reasonably little but the design actually makes and takes full advantage of the area everything convenient.
Another popular mobile home renovation has a lot more to do with the beyond a house than it does with the within. A big, open, addition to the beyond a mobile home is a great method to extend the whole house area. Screened-in patios and sunrooms offer a method to enjoy the outdoors, and these extensions also allow for extra home. If you are looking for to remodel your mobile home for resale functions, think about traditional remodelling areas such as the restroom or the cooking area. Even though mobile homes tend to be a lot smaller than regular homes, they can still consist of upscale restrooms and fantastic kitchen area spaces.
Total handyman diy encyclopedia: a compilation of brand-new and previously released special interest tasks and handbooks for the repair work and care of houses, auto, appliances, hobby devices. By the editors of Science & mechanics. Westport, Conn., H. S. Stuttman, c1983. 21 v. Steven Spink, Kitchen area walls tiled. Steven was advised to me by a good friend and I was so glad she did. He did a wonderful task of tiling our kitchen area. Steven was punctual, professional, neat and friendly. I can not fault his work at all. Will absolutely utilize Steven in the future and would not think twice to suggest him to anybody.
While there are a number of advantages to laminated flooring there are also a few downsides to think about prior to devoting to laminate. One issue is that some laminates may include chemicals that can be released into the air in your home with time and cause illness like formaldehyde. A small group of highly proficient, friendly & polite expert tilers.
Plan in advance and do not underestimate the huge time investment that home renovations demand. Prepare a clear schedule of works and ensure all specialists are lined up to the schedule and timeframes set out. Renovations can be a little bit of a puzzle and you require to make sure everyone comes together at the correct time to guarantee good flow on the task.
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