#What kind of memory-lane journey is this man on

[paperlovesadness]

MILES

(i am dead)

[brian-in-finance]

After the onslaught of criticism about her IFTA look, I thought of putting together some of Cait's quotes, a look into her character and what she's about.

“I respect and admire people who put work before fame, and life before work.”

"I think as women sometimes we can judge other women's journeys, actions a lot more harshly than we would if it was a man."

"I think there's something in the DNA of actors that we thrive on the lack of stability or regime. I relish the unpredictability of it in many ways."

The sexiest things about a man are, "Integrity, smarts and kindness".

"I just want to be happy in my life. I want to stay sane. I'm lucky that I have a job that I love. It's very important that your career can't be your only thing. So, I feel lucky that I've also found someone who makes me very happy. As long as I can keep those two things going well, then I'll be good."

"While 'Outlander' is a brilliant period show, Claire represents so many qualities of a 10th century modern-day woman: someone who is forging her own path, fighting for what she believes, and doing so with integrity."

"It's such a compliment when people say they can see 'thoughts' on your face. I started theater before modeling and the frustrated actress within me made work interesting by viewing a character or story in the head with interior monologues."

"Life is meant to be lived and not put on the back-burner for one day when you will have time. I love my job and I love work but it can’t be the be-all and end-all." 

“You have to fight to create the life that you want. I’ve been lucky and had a very varied and interesting career so far, but I’m always thinking about the next chapter.”

"I'm very young at heart but combined with a bit of an old soul. I have two sides of myself, one side is this cray-likes-to-party side, and then the other side likes-to-hibernate-and-keep-quiet-and-read. Those two sides constantly battle and that's why I'm crazy!"

"It was something I've been wanting for a while. There's sometimes fear about actors who become producers—that they're going to try to throw their weight around. For me, it's an expansion of growing within this industry. I like to problem solve. I like to look around at what every single person is doing, and [ask], how can we make things better?"

"Wrinkles equal time, equal life . . . trying to love them."

"SM brings out the very worst in people and makes us feel worse and worse about ourselves. So I'm trying to do, at least one day a week, hopefully 2 days a week, where I just step back and, I've been trying to do it recently and because I really felt like I needed to ... there's so much anger going on and there's so much "uhh" that it was making me feel just awful about everything."

"The modeling industry is completely what you make it. I've had a really great career but what some girls fail to understand is that it is a business like everything else. It's a job, not an opportunity for you and your friends to go away together a lot. You have to remember that the reason you're flying off to an exotic location is that you are there to deliver a job."

“The hardest part when I decided to move into acting was trusting I'd made the right decision.”

Thanks for the message, Anon. 😃 I’m happy to share the impressive list you’ve compiled of Caitríona’s quotes, and I hope people enjoy the walk down memory lane. As for the onslaught of criticism about her IFTA look…

One of the things you and I and everyone else are entitled to is an opinion. Some people liked her IFTA look, some did not. I sometimes post “fashion,” but have no expertise in that field, and I don’t necessarily like or dislike the garments or jewellery or footwear or accessories, or how they’re worn.

As for Standing Ground’s collections, unsupported breasts and nipples abound. I’d like to say it’s by design (wee pun), but I don’t know if it’s the designer’s intent in keeping with his natural scheme or if it’s the model’s choice to go braless. (If I were writing in DM, this is where I would say, “Blah blah blah.”)

What I do know, if I owned “the IFTA” dress and could wear it the way I chose, I would be wearing a bra. Everybody, every body, is different.

Most of the time, when I disagree with an opinion, I silently 🙄 or 🤦🏻‍♂️ or 🤯 or 🤬 or 😂, and scroll along my merry way. The odd time when I both 🤬 and chime in is when someone says it’s their opinion Caitríona is not married to Tony.

Literacy Ideas

Remember… opinion has caused more trouble on this little earth than plagues or earthquakes. — Voltaire

[everythingbap]

📰📸 View of the Arts: Bang Yongguk: A Fiery Return to the London Stage A/N: posted on 241101

Bang Yongguk moves like a flame, his aura alive with passion and purpose. Every time he steps on stage, even with songs like I Remember [yes, yes that’s one of my favourite songs] from 2011, he breathes new life into his music, each note more powerful than the last. To witness his journey from a young, determined teenager to the man he has become is like watching a river carve its path through stone – steady, uncompromising, and beautiful. Seeing his career evolve fills me with a deep sense of pride as his artistry truly reflects the passion and soul he invests in everything he does.

Yongguk has found a kindred spirit in Europe, particularly in the heart of London, where music flows like the River Thames. Camden has become a cherished destination for his performances, filled with the sounds of jazz, rock, and the beats of hip-hop and K-pop. It’s an ideal setting for an artist like Yongguk, who loves experimenting with various genres.Bang Yongguk at Dingwalls / Image © Maggie Zhu for View of the Arts

Our first encounter with Yongguk as a solo artist was in 2019 at the Underworld, a venue steeped in history and artistry. Fast forward to 2023, and we were thrilled to experience him again, this time at Dingwalls. As fate would have it, we found ourselves returning to Dingwalls once more. This venue, with its intimate atmosphere and rich musical legacy, is a perfect stage for talents like Yongguk, who have the power to satisfy even the most demanding concertgoers.

Let’s not forget, Dingwalls saw its fair share of legends pass through its doors, from the iconic Oasis and Blur to the legendary The Ramones, Coldplay, and the one and only Foo Fighters. It is a sanctuary of sound that hosts the best of the best, and on October 20th, we witnessed Yongguk’s magic once again. 

It all began with DJ’s intense set – and   I truly mean intense! He undeniably set the house on fire even before Yongguk appeared on stage. And when Yongguk did, he brought even more heat with his superb performance.

Yongguk delivered a dynamic mix of old and new tracks, kicking off his set with the 2022 single RACE. Dressed in his signature black and sporting a fresh hairstyle, he “injected” the song with such explosive energy that the entire room was ready to go wild. Together with his DJ, he flared up the stage from the first beat, and no matter how he entered, once he was on stage, he simply owned it. 

Yongguk’s first full-length self-titled album, BANGYONGGUK, is one of a kind, so there was no surprise that the artist decided to include Xie Xie in the setlist too. During his first MENT, he addressed his fans with sincere energy: “What’s up everyone, I’m Bang Yongguk. I’m finally back in London – I’ve really missed you. It feels incredible to be here with all of you again. Thank you, always, for standing by my side.”Bang Yongguk at Dingwalls / Image © Maggie Zhu for View of the Arts

Ride or Die from Yongguk’s mini-album The Colors of Love, released last year, was, and still is, a great hip-hop track that displays both his singing and rapping. And as the red stage lights washed over the crowd, everyone felt like part of the experience. His fans, loyal as ever, became an essential part of the performance.

Yongguk also performed tracks like IXLU and NUMB from his 2024 release EP 3as well as OFFOfffrom the 2022 EP 2. Once again, the lighting worked in his favour, perfectly complementing the mood of each song allowing him to deliver a performance that was both powerful and emotionally impactful.

In his next MENT, he expressed his appreciation towards his fans once more and fondly mentioned his former B.A.P members, sharing his hope to one day perform together with them in London.  

I Remember, one of his earliest solo projects, hit differently. Released in 2011, this track, featuring Yang Yo-seob, took me on a nostalgic trip down memory lane, filled with unfiltered lyrics and energy. Even in this early solo release, Yongguk demonstrated that his lyricism has always been a central part of his artistry.

Yongguk also included HIKIKOMORI + AM 4:44, Up, UFO, YAMAZAKI, and BUSS IT DOWN in his setlist – and what a powerful performance it was! Then came MOVIMIENTO from his EP 3, where he fully embraced the dancefloor – the stage – powered by a club beat driving every moment of the track. 

If you thought that was the full set, you’d be mistaken. Yongguk gave the audience even more, performing five additional songs, including BAD and Green, before closing the night with Ride or Die, MOVIMIENTO, and Orange Drive. With each track, he painted an intimate portrait of his journey – at times raw and rebellious, at times reflective and nostalgic. It must also be pointed out that Yongguk’s artistic range is impressive, making him one of the most exciting artists of his generation. The energy was superb, leaving us all longing for his triumphant return to London!

Rating:

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

Rating: 5 out of 5.

Written by Maggie Gogler

Featured image © Maggie Zhu for View of the Arts

[remzarci]

A Creepypasta about something that TOTALLY HAPPENED GUYS!!

Once upon a time I was hungry so I decided to go to Tiffany's for a bite to eat.

As I drove from Tiffany's I saw a yard sale. Not wanted to pass up some neat bargains I parked my car and walked over. As I looked over the wares this old man had I saw a box of old Video Games! I took a look and found SpongeBob SquarePants: Creature from the Krusty Krab. And I was his with a wave of nostalgia!

I turned to the old man and asked him how much. He had a sad look on his face and told me I can just take it! And then limped away back to his lawn chair. I felt bad so I took out my phone and began to to record him. Making HIM the main character of real life for a little bit! He didn't do anything particularly interesting outside of selling someone a DVD boxset of Friends. Anywhosen, I got back in my car and drove home! Funnily enough Ocean man was Playing but it was kind of off.

What I could make out was:

Ocean Man, let go of my hand, I don't understand, leave me on the sand

ocean man, the journey to rock bottom's bus station is a real trip

Probably nothing but it was strange.

then I got home and was getting ready to play my FAVORITE childhood game. So I dug out my Wii and started plugging things in. But then I noticed my conkeldurr sitting cuties plush was crying what I thought was blood but in actuality was Mountain Dew Code red, for FOUR minutes and TWENTY seconds!

I didn't think much of it as I continued to install my ps2

once my Wii was ready I placed the game cart in and got ready to go down memory lane.

But the title screen was strange. It looked worn and dusty. and spongebob looked a little too high def. Also Tiny Tims Tip Toe thru the Tulips with Me was playing at 1/10th speed.

And then things took for a turn.

Once I started the game...A GHOST CAME OUT OF MY TV AND STARTED PUNCHING ME IN THE FAAAAAAAAACE!!!! it just pucnhed me the face repeatedly! I tried to get away but the ghost was far too strong! Just as I was losing hope the Door swung open and there stood Markiplier!

his face wore an expression of extreme rage. his eyes were red and HYPER REALISTIC!

And then he darted over and began to stomp me in my pancreas. The ghost markiplier combo continued to beat on me as I wailed in pain! Just then Jeremy Pascal came in. And then joined in on the beating!

"Why are you all doing this to me?" I asked painfully! Then all three of them threw me into the tv where I fell sixty-NINE meters!! I watched as the ground quickly approached me and all I could say was "AW THIS IS GONNA SUCK!!" But before I could hit the ground The song The Time is Now blared as an unseen force rescues me in the nick of time!

I then awoke in a hospital bed. Sitting in the corner was the old man I turned into the main character. he told me that game belonged to his late grand-niece-in-law who, while watching a cursed looney tunes episode, died from having an anvil dropped on her and now the game is cursed unless I eat a spoonful of cinnamon without coughing it up, to cleanse the game of it's horrible curse. of summoning people to beat me up!(edited)

So! against the wishes of my nurse and doctor I limped to the store and grabbed a thing of cinnamon and went back to my house! There the trio were there ready to beat me up! But I took a HUGE spoonful of the stuff! God it was awful but through my tears I saw the Ghost get sucked back into the tv, Markiplier got weirded out and just left and Jeremy Pascal? uhhhh he just vanished. The deed was done! The game came out of my PC and I placed it back in the case. you know, it could be the brain trauma I'm suffering but I think I lesson is to be learned here and that lesson is:

Life is like a box of chocolates. You never know what you are going to get. -Me, Just now

So I sent the game off to sea. thanking it for such a profound lesson.

Thank you SpongeBob SquarePants: Creature from the Krusty Krab. Thank you

This has been a Crappypasta written with friend. thank you for reading!

[graff1980]

Poetic Prose Piece

     Shoes off, keys tossed on the table, phones sitting on a rolling chair, timer set for twenty minutes, because that is all the break time he can spare. Lights out. Body vertical, face inches from the back couch cushion, nose almost pushing into red softness.

     “I would prefer to sleep because I am so tired. “He thinks. “I don’t want to drive this exhausted”

     Darkness embraces him. Then light gray swirls set in, kind of random, but becoming strange abstractions, stick figures moving in awkward fashion. Further in, visualization begins to become something more substantial, a fat bearded face full of filth, rotted teeth, and red eyes. Then thoughts change tracks and take him back.

          It is not slumber, but a mind cleared of the days clutter. Eyes closed, breaths go in and out. No mantra, just a journey to inner reflections undirected. Imagination runs amok like a big red truck, barreling down memory lane, taking nostalgic notions and replacing them with what ifs that hurt more than reality.

           What if I knew then what I know now? The tiny chubby face of his baby brother appears, followed by a sharp ache of shame and pain.            Memories of violence play like a horrible B movie, of a ripped shirt, red face swelling and stinging, all the strange implements like brushes, pots, pans, mop, broom, belts, and hands. All the anguish.            Then small moments of relief, away from mother playing games with his little brother.

           Sadness and isolation, then anger and frustration.

           Physical violence becomes emotional violence, becomes suicidal attempts, becomes self-hatred, becomes anger.

           How could the younger brother understand, when his older sibling turns his hands into weapons and lashes out, or the times when the little brother is left with that nightmare which the older brother barely survived.

           Shame, so deep that on the verge of sleep the older brother imagines how his little brother’s life would have been better if he never existed, or if the older sibling had insisted on staying as a shield, or helped his brother go to live with his dad.

           The grown man still holds onto the guilt and grief even though his full-grown brother has told him to let it go. Baby brother is a husband, and a father. When time allows, he visits the sibling, and he is so proud, to know that for the most part, despite his own broken heart, his brother is doing ok, and his two and three quarter year old nephew is sooooooooo adorable.

[ritens]

Leandrs BG

GW2!Leander is a rather old character and bits and pieces of his story are gone from my memory simply because over the past 9 years the most writing I’ve done for him are a few vague comic thumbnails. He feels like dry sand falling between my fingers, yet I like him like that. I think it’s finally time to go over what’s left of him in my head. And maybe add some new stuff in the future?

Fragments of Home

Leander Coeth. Krytan. Born in 1308 AE to a couple of nobles in Divinity’s Reach. He was a well educated child, mainly because he spent more time with tutors than he did with his parents.

At the age of eleven (1319 AE) he was kidnapped by bandits while on his way to visit friends in Beetletun for a game of tag. Bandits demanded bribe money from the kid’s parents. The parents didn’t have the necessary amount as one of them had a gambling addiction. Bonus - they were also in the middle of a divorce. Putting their differences aside for their child’s sake was out of the question, and their decision making skills were pure garbage.

So their son ended up living with bandits in Brisban Wildlands for three years. He learned how to work with firearms, picked up lockpicking, trapping, tracking and other skills during his time with criminals and schemers. Despite their moral alignment they weren’t entirely horrible to Leander, which led the kid to feel like he fit in the group.

If his noble parents were to finally come around and find their son, the bandits wouldn’t let him go anymore. Leander, now nicknamed Lane, had become one of them.

Inquest of Sinister Triad

When Lane was fourteen (1322 AE), his group of bandits made the decision to become a part of the Sinister Triad in hopes of a better life. He got handed over to the Inquest side of the Sinister Triad like some sacrificial lamb.

An asura Chronomancer, Kwinden, (character belongs to @alteredsilicone) gingerly received the new subject. He had joined the Inquest to have more freedom in how he approached his research about stretching the limits of chronomancy. But his krewe fell apart over severe disagreements. This led the scientist to look past asura-only teammates and join the Sinister Triad to conduct his research among humans and nightmare courtiers who were more than eager to get their hands dirty and provide him with whatever he required.

Kwin erased Lane’s sense of self, the memories of people he had any kind of connection to. The teen may or may not have run off a few times before the scientist decided to take this approach.

Now all Lane has from before this point in time are vague images of people he believes he’s never met. They’re just fictitious fragments that his unconscious mind had cooked up in a dream.

Together they made steady progress in Kwinden’s chosen field of research, and though Lane was just a human lab rat, Kwin made sure the kid felt alright and gave him some level of freedom, so he could spend time with himself and his own interests which was a blessing after the more draining tests (especially the ones that involved time warps). Less fussy subjects are better subjects.

As years went by Leander himself became invested in Kwinden’s work. And even though he didn’t yet have the intellectual capacity to fully understand what was what, Kwin could still meet Lane on a similar brainwave and help him learn. Leander was on his way to become an engineer with a strong affinity for elixirs and burning things. He could finally take care of himself at a reliable level and at this point the asura trusted his personal human assistant enough to let him run errands instead of calling upon the thugs of the triad and watching them struggle to comprehend what’s being asked of them.

Less Than Friends

The Commander began their journey in 1325 AE. Leander was seventeen at this time. And Kwinden had a major breakthrough in his research. Though physically de-aging himself was an accident, he took it as a victory worth celebrating. After all, he was an old man and standard mesmer magic only let him alter his appearance. It did nothing for his pained back and brittle bones.

Originally it was another time-warp test that was run on Lane, but oddly enough yielded no results aside from increased blood pressure. It frustrated the asura as it made no sense. He firmly believed his calculations were correct and thus confidently ran the test on himself. In reality the experiment had an invisible effect - Kwin almost entirely stopped Lane’s biological clock by leaving his body in something of a time loop, but figured out this mishap several years later when the human’s unchanging youth started becoming suspicious. So the same test yielded two different results on two different subjects. Unfortunately the asura couldn’t go back to the notes related to this experiment to undo it. The lab had been ransacked and burnt down just a month after his own age-reversing success.

The duo left the Sinister Triad to build their own private lab elsewhere. Lane finally had the opportunity to travel where his eyes led him, and made friendly connections with various peculiar characters along the way. In 1327 AE they formed a guild which did its part by lending strength to The Pact in the fight against the Elder dragon Mordremoth. The events leading up to the battle with the jungle dragon caused significant losses, squabbles and trust issues among the members and the guild fell apart shortly after The Pact claimed victory over Mordremoth in 1328 AE.

One of the two ex-guildmates that Lane is still in touch with is Zachren, a sylvari guardian whose life the engineer saved by pure chance while gathering kindling for a night under the stars of Blazeridge Steppes. Zachren then stuck with him through thick and thin on the branded battlefield while the human gathered research material for his mentor.

The sylvari willingly joined The Nightmare Court after Mordremoth fell and the guild disbanded. They don’t talk much since then but Zachren always makes time for when Lane visits to have a meal together now and then.

The other one is Caserin Kyn, a necromesmer who resides in some deep end of nowhere in the middle of Shiverpeaks and knows more than he lets on. Though Lane says nothing about it, he suspects Kyn has treaded paths similar to Kwinden’s and remains in hiding for safety.

They originally met at a norn alemoot. Kyn was drunk as a skunk and asked a stranger to help him get home. The stranger turned out to be Leander who was there to briefly warm up by the fire before setting out to gather a specific kind of lichen. He gathered the material while trying to make sense of the instructions the drunk man was giving him. Although strange and entirely random, them running into one another turned out to be mutually beneficial.

The necromesmer tends to provide valuable tools and artifacts under ridiculous conditions, and for this reason alone is intensely detested by everyone in the Priory. He is a collector with a twisted sense of humor, along with a visible bloodstone addiction, and is difficult to negotiate with.

Lane tends to stay over at his place to test elixirs together. They’ve made an agreement that Leander can take whatever materials he needs from Kyn’s collection as long as he helps the necromesmer break an invisible bond with someone who’s out to kill the man.

Holosmith

The engineer dealt with the loss of his guild by wandering and doing odd jobs in various places for a while. He visited the major cities of each allied race to learn more about their culture and pick up on some technical knowledge, especially from the charr.

In 1330 AE when the Commander made way to Elona to pursue the rogue god, Leander caught wind of the concept of holosmithing and decided to pursue it.

I shifted my character focus from Leander to Caserin in 2017 and then took a significant break from gw2 during 2018-2022 so this is where his story stops for now. Will update this post (much) later when I go through the entire story of the game again. I'm so.. so out of the loop with the lore.

[violetangeltears]

8H tingz

sometimes i like to relive memories for the sake of the experience to feel them again, for better or for worse. it inspires me & reminds me that i am human. the healing journey is not at all what i'd expect, but then again i never truly expected anything. healing means not being reactive. healing means you have the ability to sit outside of your feelings & observe them, not absorb them. healing can be viewed in different ways, but for me, this is what it's been like for the most part.

i lived very traumatic events in 2019. quite a few following after, but in 2019 is when i believe to have experienced my saturn return. Lord knows i was ready to take my life, as i have been ready many times in my life, even attempted it a few times w/a failed outcome, but something just hit different that time. i experienced it all in one year, you'd never believe it, truly, you'd never believe it if i told you. they are things i will take to my grave, i could not tell a soul. there aren't a whole lot of things i'll take to my grave, but there are a few things i've lived & done that are better left unsaid, forgotten & archived.

enough of the drama. my point being is that today was one of those days i chose to relive a memory, but not a bad one. i was living in a different state than my birth state. i had been DMing w/a guy for a couple of months, he lived in my birth state. we had tossed around the idea of him visiting me some time. that plan never came to flourish because life has a comical way of putting you in your lane & turns your life upside down in an instant. i ended up moving to my hometown & this guy & i ended up playing in a band together. we bonded after our first gig together & after that i really don't know how our relationship became official, but it did. oh yeah... i remember now. i've never really been the type to commit to a relationship, but i am capable of doing so. i like to take things slow, relax, enjoy the ride & build a friendship before committing. so.. i don't remember exactly how we ended up having sex one night, but we did & after that he thought i was his girl. mind you, this man (hardly a man at the time), is a scorpio, capricorn moon, capricorn rising & capricorn venus lol. the intensity was real. he spoke w/words like poetry that left you feeling as if you were floating into the abyss, questioning your existence. everything he said was always vague & meaningful at the same time. i liked that about him. his eyes represented the darkness. all dark things. it was like being closed into a casket; terrifying, yet soothing. like letting death embrace you w/mercy. do you understand? like Kim wanting a hug from Edward Scissorhands. i swear, everytime this man looked into my eyes, he poured his soul, his entire being into me. i was immediately consumed by his energetic pull. it was like being naked, but from the inside. he knew, he could see me & i felt shame. i was lying to him & he knew it, but he wanted me so bad he ignored it. reminds me of a part of a song from one of my favorite songs by the Alan Parsons Project called 'Eye in the Sky;´- "the sun in your eyes, made some of your lies worth believing." the lie was that i was not emotionally committed to him. one day he decided to say i was his girlfriend & it just took me by surprise because he never asked me & i just went w/it. that, & i was also kind of seeing someone else too. i say kind of because the closest we got to anything was one innocent kiss, but we'd hang out sometimes.

anyway, eventually scorpio built up the courage to stand up for his dignity & broke up w/me. it's true what they say, you never know what you have until you lose it. i cried over that boy like you don't even know. i felt like he had swallowed my soul & left me empty inside. we got back together a month later, but broke up again shortly, his choice. then again left me dying inside. a couple years later after that he was begging for us to get back together, but, i think it was just his soul craving depth. i think that often times we like to return to where we were hurt because we long to feel something. that, or we want to feel important to someone.

no hard feelings between him & i. i explained to him that i appreciated the experience we shared, but i would appreciate a friendship a lot more from now on & he was mature enough to agree & respect that. i look back now & i can't believe how much ache i had gone through because of one boy lol. now that i feel nothing, i find it hard to believe i did not want to exist w/out him. we're so silly, aren't we?

[naturecoaster]

Visiting Michael Allman’s Half Eaten Peach: A Journey in Time and Music Space

People ask Michael Allman, “Where’d you grow up?” The eldest son of Gregg Allman, founding member of the Allman Brothers Band, answers, “As soon as I do, you will be the first to know.” My journey to Michael Allman’s Half-Eaten Peach Records, Instruments, Live Broadcast and Videos store and professed ‘man cave’ was a trip down memory lane, a visit to a museum of collectible and playable instruments, and a journey into the independent artist’ music business of today. It seems to combine the vibe of hallowed ground with the atmosphere of a smoking lounge that classifies as “retail.” “My dad told me two things, ‘Don’t sign anything and don’t sign anything.’ So, I own my record label with Floyd Skinner. Everything I do I put out on my own. If you go with someone else, they tell you where to go and what to do. I have one rule: Michael does what Michael wants,” shares Michael Allman in a recent interview with NatureCoaster. Michael Allman’s Half-Eaten Peach in New Port Richey The Half-Eaten Peach is open for retail sales by appointment. To get an appointment, you need to email or call 727-241-0372. It is located at 7139 US 19 in New Port Richey in a nondescript strip center. “I have instruments for sale and strings and such, but it’s turned into more of a creative space for me and my band. I have all kinds of memorabilia here, and the space for a few friends to bring chairs and hang out while we practice and create,” Michael explains. There are posters from out-of-town concerts for the Michael Allman Band, copies of Allman Brothers concerts from the soundboard, posters and photos, backstage passes, and some really weird stuff that just finds its way to this music man with a famous name. A view of the interior of The Half-Eaten Peach with its musical instruments, small stage, massive record collection, and myriad of Allman memorabilia. Image by Pat Manfredo. “Everything is for sale but understand that I love the things that are in here, so the prospective buyer has to love that thing more than I do,” explains Michael, “The Half-Eaten Peach isn’t intended to make tons of money. It’s my place. Guitars start with a story here. You walk out the door with a guitar and a story.” “Young uns come in here and ladies who want to play bass. Someone who wants to play can come in here and grab something, and I can have the guitar set up to be ready to play,” he continues. “I would like to put in a live recording studio,” Michael Allman explains. “That was my intention, but there is not enough room in here as it is. The live stage. Six to eight people here to make noise, and we could make a video for the musicians to share with their audiences, but after COVID the demand dropped off quickly and people began going out to see live music again.” Michael Allman in his favorite place, The Half-Eaten Peach at 7139 US 19 in New Port Richey. Image by Pat Manfredo. About Michael Sean Allman Michael Sean Allman was born in 1966 to Mary Lynn Sutton. At age 6, she told him that his biological father was Gregg Allman. He had a rough childhood, went to military school and then moved in with his famous father at 15, while his mother fought cancer. He worked in the club business, as a DJ and soundman, and then in construction. “My dad told me not to go into the music business. He said, 'Do not go into this business.' I tried working as a framing carpenter and then as an electrician. I married way too young and had two sons, trying to be a good provider. We didn’t make it,” he shared with what appeared to be a twinge of regret. At one of his DJ gigs, he was attacked and had over 300 stitches from the incident at a club in South Carolina. Michael was diagnosed with cancer in 2002. “I was told I had 3-5 years to live – that I needed surgery, chemo and radiation. I got the surgery, and then my ex-wife let me move in. I figured I had a year and a half to two years left and my children were adults. I went to Michigan to say goodbye to my kids. While I was there, the doctors monitored me, and they told me that I was doing well. I thought, “I had better get living again,” and left to pursue my musical career. Michael Allman went to Georgia to work on his first album, Hard Labor Creek. Michael Allman's Blues Travels Fast MMXX album is available for purchase in the New Port Richey store. Image by Pat Manfredo. Hundreds - or thousands - of records are in The Peach. Vintage, classics... ooh... Image by Pat Manfredo. Why is Michael Allman in New Port Richey? After his first album came out in 2009, he was headed to Sarasota to set up shop “for no particular reason.” A friend contacted him en route and said, “You have got to come meet Mark Shane. There is a guy who plays guitar here that you have got to come meet!” Michael Allman drove to New Port Richey to meet Mark Shane. “Mark is phenomenal. He is excellent. I stayed in New Port Richey to work with him. He is my right hand in music. I have different bands in the places I play because I am a frontman… a lead singer… an entertainer,” Michael says. “My second album came out, originally titled MMXX (2020) but COVID came and we changed the name to Blues Travels Fast. It was the second-best year of my career on paper. I had 36 shows scheduled to support the album. Thirty-six shows were canceled due to COVID,” Michael explains, disappointment still sounding in his voice. So, he pivoted. “I was going to open a record store because I love records. I love collecting records and The Half-Eaten Peach started with records and a handful of guitars and then it evolved into my big old man cave,” he shares with a big grin. “I set up this stage, we have room for small bands to play and we can record them to video, put it up on my internet pages and they can share the music with their followers” Michael explains, “Because of COVID, I thought that would go great, but it’s kind of petered out and so I am moving in other directions.” Michael Allman loves Whiskey River on the Water for local places to hang out - and play at. The large, somewhat open restaurant and bar on the water in New Port Richey is an easy walk from his house and the Peach. He said, “It’s my go-to place. Part of the ‘Allman Triangle’. I own the record there for the largest crowd and the most sales from when I brought my band to play there. I played there for my birthday in July. There were people lined up outside and we had a blast!” Backstage and VIP passes are part of the scene at Michael Allman's Half-Eaten Peach. "Guitars start with a story here. You walk out the door with a guitar and a story." Image by Pat Manfredo. Making Music with The Michael Allman Band Most of his live shows have been heavy with Allman Brothers Band hits, interspersed with a few Michael Allman originals. The Michael Allman Band songs I listened to are blues-based rock, in the genre of ABB, but different enough to stand on their own. While some say that he sounds like his father, Michael is creative and has made his own way. He has two albums out and another ready to break. “I write about half of the songs on my albums. My new album, Creature of Habit, is coming out this month. I am very excited about it! The first song, called Bokeelia is live on my YouTube channel,” Michael shares with me, “and our kickoff show is scheduled for September 20 rock Ka`Tiki on Sunset Beach in Treasure Island, Florida. This band includes  Mark Shane, Michael McMahon, Ephraim Lowell, and Scott Brown. We are going to It’s going to be great!” Road trip anyone? The newest album was created at Farmadelica Sound, a studio in the pine trees of Pine Island (off Fort Myers beach) that his friend, “Boo Boo” introduced him to. Michael reminisced about the place and the process, “It’s a great space, relaxing, I love it. A hammock. We make food, hang out, and make music. It’s beautiful out there.” “We talked about making an instrumental on my upcoming album to be funny (because Michael doesn’t play instruments… he sings…) Michael Allman at Bokeelia instrumental… so we created an instrumental flow with a little bit of words and it progressed… within a couple of weeks… to this.” https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3qxzF9UUp5c Michael Allman’s new project offers a way to use more of his original music while performing live. “With three albums of original music, I want to share more originals and less Allman Brothers Band hits on my setlists. Right now, this experience is only available in Florida but stay tuned... I’m going to bombard Florida and then look out world. Scott Brown and Friends will be opening and then the band will back me up as the Michael Allman Band,” he shares. “My father told me years ago,” Michael continues, “ ’Boy, do not get in this business’ but all I ever wanted to do was sing, perform, entertain.” Michael Allman's Half-Eaten Peach is a Gem of a Find in New Port Richey Michael Allman looks a lot like his famous father, but he is making his own way in the music business from New Port Richey, Florida. He is thin and tall, has the look of someone who has seen and done a lot in his years on this earth, and has a charming smile. Michael Allman sharing stories with Diane Bedard of NatureCoaster for this article. Image by Pat Manfredo. “I like it here. I’ve lived here for 12-13 years now. That’s a long time for me,” he told NatureCoaster. Michael is working on improving his health now. He has beat death a few times and is living his best life ever here on Florida’s beautiful Nature Coast. Read the full article

[wellingtonwellsdaily]

Famous Britons

Good day to you, my lovely friends! It’s Uncle Jack here, ready to take you on a delightful journey through time as we celebrate another one of our Famous Britons! Have you taken your Joy today? I do hope so, because today’s story is bound to bring a smile to your face and a bit of pride to your heart.

Today, we’re shining the spotlight on a remarkable figure, a true beacon of British ingenuity and resilience: the brilliant inventor and engineer, Sir Frank Whittle! Ah, what a name! Born in Coventry in 1907, young Frank showed an early fascination with all things mechanical. You see, Frank wasn’t content with just tinkering with toys and gadgets like other boys his age. Oh no, he had his sights set on the skies!

As a young man, Frank joined the Royal Air Force, where he trained as a pilot. But it wasn’t just flying that captured his imagination. Frank had a vision – a vision of a new kind of aircraft engine that could revolutionize the way we travel through the air. He believed that airplanes could fly faster and higher than ever before, and he wasn’t going to let anything stand in his way.

In 1930, at the tender age of just 23, Frank Whittle patented the design for a jet engine – an invention that would change the course of aviation history. But like all great inventions, it wasn’t an easy road. There were skeptics, of course – people who said it couldn’t be done, that the idea was too radical, too ambitious. But Frank wasn’t one to be discouraged. He pressed on, fueled by his passion and determination.

After years of hard work and perseverance, Frank’s dream finally took flight in 1941, when the first British jet-powered aircraft, the Gloster E.28/39, soared into the skies. What a moment that must have been! The jet engine went on to become a cornerstone of modern aviation, and Sir Frank Whittle’s contributions earned him a knighthood in 1948.

What makes Frank Whittle’s story so inspiring, dear friends, is not just his incredible invention, but his unwavering belief in his vision, even when the odds were stacked against him. He reminds us that with determination, ingenuity, and a dash of that famous British spirit, we can achieve anything we set our minds to.

So today, let’s all take a moment to remember Sir Frank Whittle, a true British pioneer who helped shape the future of flight. And who knows? Perhaps his story will inspire you to chase after your own dreams, no matter how impossible they may seem.

Well, I'm afraid we've come to the end of our time for today’s edition of Famous Britons, . I hope you’ve enjoyed our little trip down memory lane. Remember, there’s greatness in all of us – sometimes, it just takes a bit of Joy to bring it out! Until next time, keep your chin up, stay curious, and always remember: happiness is a choice. Choose Joy!

[thegreenersideofit]

Nainital noons

I visited Uttarakhand with my immediate family sometime back(minus the sitting in COVID year = sometime back). We planned the Nainital- Jim Corbett- Delhi circuit. This circuit is on the Kumaon side of Uttarakhand. A more flamboyant area with much lesser natural disasters than the Garhwal region. But Uttarakhand without the natural is unnatural. An “on the edge of life experience awaited us on this tour. One that makes my quote “If some thing adventurous doesn’t happen in Uttarakhand, it’s not worth it” That is the kind of fascination this place demands and naturally evokes. 

We packed one suitcase each(mine were two); we were going to fly to Delhi – our regular gateway to Uttarakhand. In our excitement, the 2 hour flight journey was covered without looking at our watches even once. Delhi airport exit area is a much loved area something that Mumbai has to still emulate by way of infrastructure. As soon as we were out of the IGI airport at Delhi, we had a vehicle waiting to take us through this intra – city journey. 

The distance from Delhi to Nainital is 316 kms which is about 6 hours of road. But wheeling upto Nainital from Delhi is the best thing to do especially when it’s not you driving!!! Dead tired, we slept half way through to wake up to what looked like a prelude to a stay in heaven. The road journey is refreshing and full of amazing views. The air freshens up to give you an exotic experience. Et voila you are in Nainital also called as the Lake District. The most popular hill station of North, Nainital is located at an altitude of 2000m above sea level. It is surrounded by seven hills, popularly known as ‘Sapta-Shring’ – Ayarpata, Deopata, Handi-Bandi, Naina, Alma, Lariya-Kanta and Sher-Ka-Danda. Nestled in the Himalayan mountains, it offers a great stay and memories that you might want to visit over and over

So we travelled further up to the Bhimtaal lake exactly in front of which we were going to unwind for the next day.Our resort was a 3 star treat with pretty much everything that a traveller could ask for. The allotted room had a beautiful view of the lake and we were going to have a good stay here if at all we had time to sit by that window with the view. Well That’s because we were going to be in the backdrop of that view. 

Work began the next day morning after a decent breakfast in the common eating hall of the resort. Our vehicle was waiting down the alley ready to take us through the roads of this petite town Nainital which actually revolves around the Naini lake. The town is built about the lake, all the hustle bustle there along with brisk commercial activities giving the tourism of this place a good boost. The Naini lake and the Mall Road are the two main commercial points here. But our first trip out was to Tiffin top.  There is no entry fee here but the horse ride that takes you up the Ayarpatta hills is a paid ride. Located 2290 m above sea level, the top offers a breathtaking glimpse of entire Nainital. Panoramic shots captured by your mind that won’t fit in your cameras. The tour is marked by several viewable points one of which is dorothy’s seat.

The climb takes about 1hour with intermittent tea or camera click breaks. There are many people who trek this distance. The person manning our horses showed us the spot where several Bollywood movies were shot. One such place in the forest hills was where the famous “Jadu” was found by Hrithik Roshan !!!

By the time, we climbed down, it was late noon and time to relax by the Naini lake which was at its foothills. The sun had lost its blaze and within few hours it would be set. Perfect setting for a boat ride over the cool waters of the Naini lake. We felt refreshed as we paddled along other boaters. After the boat ride, we purchased some memoirs from the souvenir shops in the lane adjoining the lake. 

A day spent well. By the time we retired to our room, we were dead tired and called for an in-room dining. With a good movie on our room tv screen, we ended day 1 in Nainital. Tomorrow was going to be another day full of sight seeing and of course shopping at the Mall Road. 

With our location at Bhimtaal, we were very near to Naukuchiatal. It’s the largest lake in Nainital and the lake has 9 corners. It has a lot of water sports and other activities. Though we did not opt for boating or Kayaking, the youngest member of our troupe did the bubble over water. Rolling in a bubble over the water in a limited distance roll. Happiness and Nainital is a lethal mix – one that is difficult to get over in a long time to come. The well maintained clean waters and well handled water activities are a major tourist attraction to Naukuchiatal. We had an impending trip to the Mall Road, so I got a hurried exit done here to head to the shoppers haven in Uttarakhand. The Mall Road is the busiest street of Nainital. From bags to jewellery to clothes, it has the most unique items that can be offered to the rest of India to carry back as “neighbours envy owners pride”

I shopped to my heart’s content and marked the Mall Road as the best place ever visited in my diary. 

The petite Nainital took over our hearts and left us with cosy memories to ruminate till another trip. We would be checking out from the resort the next day and heading to the Jim Corbett National park with a stay at Ramgarh.

[reginrokkr]

Being witness of the gentle disposition Rèn has to his former self in the memory touches seraphic heartstrings. Knowledge that he is a man broken long ago beyond repair, that would still hold kindness tucked within his heart upon learning little by little the predicament Dáinsleif was engulfed in as the world around them crumbled under their feet, never once hesitating to offer needed comfort and whispered loving words... It is at this moment when he realizes the magnitude of happiness for reuniting again with him, no matter how broken both of them are. In watching them shoulder one another or in times of need one acting the strongest for the sake of the other when they won't have it in themselves to act so...

Oh, how fortunate he is. Even if his heart would've wished to meet him sooner, to have someone he could confide on in full... Dáinsleif doesn't regret a past like that— for that's precisely what led him to reunite with Rèn even when all odds were against him.

Twilight perks as soon as the other's voice reverberates within the realm of consciousness, signalling that he wishes to have a more direct conversation outside the realm of memories. Attending to this necessity, Dáinsleif obliges immediately. For how much Rèn has yet to heal from his own sorrow, he was brave in facing this darkness: not only Teyvat's, but his own. Lunarescent seraph listens closely and the first thought that crosses his mind is that this memory lane journey has come to a close with Rèn's understanding that he ought to heal first if he wants to face all the coming hardship better.

◜You needn't apologize.◞ Genuine words are combined with a brief shake of his head to accentuate them. ◜The lack of consideration of your own wellbeing is but symptom of extreme kindness in your heart to venture into dangers despite the warnings and... a tinge of recklessness intertwined, if I may.◞ Roseate lips curl in a small smile, denoting a reciprocity of teasing he is re-learning just now based on Rèn's teasing nature at times. Nevertheless, that's not the end of it, no. And so arms unfold from where they rested against his chest, crystalline blues widening a fraction as the albescent-haired presented him a new approach to not give up on what he wished to do, but still being mindful of his own state.

Celestial azures descend to his hand, so tenderly held betwixt Rèn's in brief pensiveness before albescent lashes flutter close. ◜Indeed, being exposed to the memories of Khaenri'ah would be lighter in comparison to the heaviness of being sent amidst a Cataclysm.◞ Long lashes open anew to reveal glacial sapphires that bore into moonlight irises. ◜However... you must keep in mind that it won't be easy to reach out to me without rising suspicions in a kingdom filled to the brim with them or proper preparation. And this will imply another second first meeting, as your experiences within my memories won't be overwritten to the next. Are you prepared for that?◞

Wherever Dáinsleif goes, he will follow without question— but not without his mind being filled with a lingering thought that something is still not right, that there is more he could do if only he had a more ample understanding of what transpired in Khaenri'ah. And perhaps that, just as the blond warned him in his realm of consciousness before sending him to this passage of memories, there is too much to swallow that he may be unable to take in... without proper rest first from his own last experiences.

Rèn still sheds every layer of clothes by the Amrita Pool and enters the welcoming water nevertheless, arms ready to take Dáinsleif in his gentle embrace, mindful to not hurt him any further if he's struggling with physical pain on the blackened parts of his body. "You are strong." The murmurs comes as a soft thread of voice, lips brushing against his bare shoulder seconds before they press a kiss on the patch of skin. Silver lashes flutter close thereafter, his mind adrift elsewhere.

We need to talk, Dáinsleif.

As if by command his soul is back to the tranquil euthymia of his realm of consciousness, face to face to the ethereal soul of his, devoid of the touch of darkest night on his skin. "I must admit that I underestimated the gravity of the situation at the first warning." Guilt would settle within his chest first, beckoning his gaze downwards and not in the depths of sapphires— but this time, Blade stays strong. He wants his genuineness to shine true and to make him understand that this is not a defeat, but a momentary pause to be resumed later.

"Even though I have a better understanding now of the beginning you started to endure... I cannot neglect my own emotional instability. Forgive me, for not listening to you sooner." Rèn walks closer to Dáinsleif, hand reaching out to hold holy one of the seraph's between his own. "But I also know I would not forgive myself if I stopped here. That's why..." A deep breath ensues as a measure to prepare himself either for rejection or what is to come soon if Dáinsleif comes to accept. Whatever he may choose, he will take it— for it's him the one who got himself into this. "Do you think it would be possible to send my soul further back in the memory lane? Back when calmer days went by?"

[scribeforchrist-blog]

Patience Is Only The Beginning

MEMORY VERSE OF THE WEEK
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+ Psalms 56:3- Whenever I am afraid, I will trust in You.

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VERSE OF THE DAY
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+ Ecclesiastes 7:8 The end of something is better than its beginning. Patience is better than pride.”
‭‭=========================
** SAY THIS BEFORE YOU READ; HERE’S SOME CHRISTIAN TRUTHS **

I AM WAITING

I AM PATIENT

I AM BOLD

I AM STRONG

********************************
THOUGHTS:
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 Patience is something we learn as we go through our life. It is not something that we have; some have tons of patience, but it takes some of us some time not to get mad if someone is taking too long, if someone is in the fast lane moving slowly, or if the pizza delivery guy brings our food extra late, so we get angry. We forget that he’s human too, and he has his problems; we forget because we don't have patience for anything, and to fix this problem, we have to ask God to help us with patience.
  I was always told not to ask for more patience because you’ll regret it. God will show us how to have patience, and it would be something we would hate. Still, as we grow in God, we have to realize that he’s waiting for us to ask for help; patience is better than pride because, a lot of times, we take our patience and we place it to the side because we don’t want to let go of our ways, we dont want to change the way the Lord is asking us to, we are so focused on us that we forget he has a better way and that's teaching us patience.
  1 Corinthians 13:4 Love is patient and kind; it is not jealous or conceited or proud; it is not arrogant.
 We also learn in this process that we need to love our fellow man and that we need to have more kindness; love isn’t being jealous; love isn’t being stuck on ourselves and full of pride. Love is pure and patient; how many times have we looked at our needs over the needs of others? How many times have we forgotten that the word of God says to love our neighbors and to love one another LOVE ,LOVE ,LOVE?
  We do the opposite because we feel that the more we show love, the weaker we look, and we don't love our fellow brothers and sisters. This is a command that Jesus gave us, and he said if you love me, you’ll do my commandments. Do you love Jesus?
  Romans 12:12: Rejoice in hope, be patient in tribulation, be constant in prayer.”
  The Bible tells us this: be patient in tribulation, be constant in prayer because when we pray, we are killing the flesh and we are allowing God to mold us and shape us, and a lot of times that journey is painful and that journey is complex and that journey makes us think GOD DOESNT LOVE ME but what God is doing is showing us how to be patient in our journey how to stay constantly near the throne, we can’t go through anything he’s trying to show us without patience & if we don’t pray, we must pray!
  Psalm 40:1 I waited patiently for the Lord; he inclined to me and heard my cry.
 Also, in this journey, we will cry out of frustration, and he will incline his ear to us. Still, we must be patient and wait on God to do it, wait on God to show us a better way, and wait on God to give us what we need, which is him. When God goes through the crushing season, we learn firsthand about patients we learn firsthand about, staying near him because he’s breaking and molding us. WE WILL FEEL LIKE we are losing or lose every battle, but friends, we aren't.
  We are winning when we have faith in God and patience. Don't let the battle make you lose sight of God because that can happen. After all, the enemy during this time knew this process was severe. He knows that if he speaks the word, he could change our minds, but as long as we hold on to God, we will be okay. We will be okay if we seek God and learn patience. God is waiting for people who want to change and learn and desire to be molded by him, and that takes PATIENCE. Do you have patience?
  Colossians 3:12: “Therefore, as God’s chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness, and patience.”
 

This verse tells us this cloth ourselves, meaning put it on humility, gentleness, compassion, and patience because those attributes don't fall upon us; we must choose to do it. We must choose to be what God desires us to be, and he desires us to be more like him and to intimate Christ in what he does, but intimating Christ isn’t getting angry, fighting, and fussing; no, it’s about allowing what we put on to fit us and to learn how to use it we can’t just wear patience we must practice it, we must practice gentleness.
  We are in the backstage every day, but when we deal with others, we are on stage. It’s essential that every day, we work towards being better people.
 ***Today, the Holy Spirit wants us to learn patience. He wants us to learn how to put this attribute on and be just like Christ because, without patience, we won’t learn how to wait on people or God. The most challenging part sometimes is waiting for God, but when we practice patience, we learn how to be what God calls us to be. Pray for Patience and ask God to show you how to be patient. ©Seer~ Prophetess Lee
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PRAYER
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Heavenly Father, we thank you for today! We ask you to be with us every day. Father, please show us what you want us to change. Forgive us if we have been stubborn; forgive us if we aren’t changing. Lord, please don’t give up on us; every day, we desire to be molded and tried; we desire to be what you want from us. We don’t want to say. We believe. We want to show it in our actions and show it through our ways! Lord, we thank you for everything. We ask you for your strength and mercy in Jesus' Name, Amen.

========================
REFERENCES
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+ Proverbs 16:32 Better to be patient than a warrior, and better to have self-control than to capture a city."

+ Romans 15:1 We who are powerful need to be patient with the weakness of those who don’t have power, and not please ourselves."

+ 2 Timothy 4:2 "Preach the word. Be ready to do it whether it is convenient or inconvenient. Correct, confront, and encourage with patience and instruction."

========================
FURTHER READINGS
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PROVERBS 9

JOB 28

MARK 6

ZEPHANIAH 1

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[green-scrub-chronicles]

Evidence-based practice

Wait, cue the music, anchor the ship, we are back! What a journey it has been! Welcome to the evidence-based practice island of occupation.

When I looked down memory lane, I realised that the little choices processed through value and its intricacies laid the foundation of who I am today. A wise man once said, “May your choices reflect your hopes, not your fears.” That is exactly what we are all about today: decisions. Decisions are driven by factual evidence and collaborative and dynamic interaction with diverse sources of information. A decision can be defined as an internal, adventurous process of considering the facts laid out in front of you. My question to you is: if we are the decision-makers, what kind of life do we perceive our clients to live?

You may ask, "What is evidence-based practice?" It is characterized as fundamentally a clinical decision-making framework that motivates clinicians to integrate information from elevated quantitative and qualitative research with the clinician's clinical expertise and the client's history, preferences, and values. It is the complexity of incorporating the value, experience, and educational use one gain over time as a health practitioner. Furthermore, the compromise of viewing the client holistically, including their context and values, promotes a client-centred approach and proficiency in clinical reasoning. For more information read on:

The OT process consists of evaluation to build an occupational profile. We can enquire about relevant information through deliberate discourse with the client, clinical presentations, textbooks, or scholarly research to address the client's needs through prioritized assessments and interventions to promote the effectiveness of therapy through evidence-based practice. The principles of what we do and why we do it are facilitated by evidence-based practice. This week, I seized the ability to experience hand therapy. I was assisting two young men identified as X and K who both had the same diagnoses. I researched the pathology to apply broad therapy concepts, but what distinguished my approach from the two men was their diverse contextual backgrounds. The inefficiency of implementing the city-based home program for Mr K due to his peri-urban lifestyle of different religious and societal constructs will be meaningless. Evidence-based practice acts as a liaison between pathology and client-specific therapeutic needs.

Occupational therapists thrive on finding the "fit" between person, context, and environment. The evidence-based practice provides the opportunity to dive deeper through research to fit the different puzzle pieces together to do the puzzle through a collaborative approach to attain a shared goal. For instance, Mr K needed orthopaedic care to drain the abscess from his hand, nurses to dress his wound, and occupational therapy to return hand function so he could engage in his everyday activities and reintegrate with ease back home and work. This can be achieved through will of exposure and learning from our interactions.

According to Bennett and Bennett (2000), evidence-based practice is a framework and a process based on clinical considerations that must be made at all phases of the occupational therapy treatment process. Clinical questions that represent the information required to make clinical judgments and consider the specific client or group of clients being treated and the context in which therapy occurs are identified.

I know that is an amalgamation of information one is bombarded with, but I am the solution. Do not fear, OT enthusiasts; different reliable sources are available for an OT to refer to and learn from through the hierarchy of research Sackett's method of ranking evidence, such as the AOTA, AOTF, NIH, and SciElo. Please take a look below to read more about available resources.

We move to the “how,” which incorporates first asking questions related to assessment, treatment planning, and context. to be in search of evidence using a variety of sources to locate data relevant to the client. Then follows the appraisal of evidence to implement evidence-based data into practice in intervention planning.

We may not follow the same process of reviewing evidence, but when I saw the TB spine client, I entered the therapy session with a presumption of how he would present and began asking questions to better understand the pathology and establish his hypothesized prognosis. I consulted with the hospital OTs to attain a better understanding and learn from their experiences as practising OTs. I consolidated the information through online articles to guide my intervention planning. I would have followed up with the evidence presented to clinical reason out the therapeutic aims and goals I have for the client, which I would then implement into practice. This process may not work for the next person or client, but we change and adapt to use ourselves as therapeutic tools within and outside of therapy.

As we approach the final stops of our OT journey, when I look into the mirror, I fall in love with the person I see. The four-week-ago version of myself would have been proud of my tenacity, determination, and willingness to always learn, even in situations when I was on the verge of tears. How I managed my client's horrific experience of a situation we had no control over shifted my perception of myself and the importance of collaborative care. The continuous support from my supervisor allowed space for tranquillity and being okay with shortcomings, but also the importance of accountability, being equally yoked with my group, and wearing the shoe on the other foot. Sometimes we need to jump the fence and learn from those who have walked the path further than we have. Albert Einstein emphasized not to stop learning; allow yourself to explore and learn to be the therapist that is client-centred through EBP.

OT enthusiasts, if you ask me how my week was, no words can describe the physical and mental strain I was under. The academic pressure closed in on me, but through the guidance of my supervisor, "still I rise." She sharpened my observational skills during my session and explained their importance. What I learned was to be thorough and not superficial in going back to EBP to consider and apply the available resources to ensure intervention planning is evolving and therapeutic. She planted the purpose of precision and evidentiality from initial contact to treatment to guide and reason your session to attain therapeutic objectives through research, articles, observing experiences from seniors, and consolidating through interactive learning such as the NDT techniques tutorial.

My take-home message is that we as students forget the power element we instil within the sessions with the clients, and the role we play within the multidisciplinary team requires knowledge in order to clinically reason our therapeutic process. Remember, a decision is not a choice because “a good decision is based on knowledge and not on numbers.” – Plato

 Onto our final stop...

[trigunshop]

From Angel Arms to Donuts: Vash's 5 Most Memorable Scenes in Trigun

"Get ready to saddle up and ride with the legendary outlaw Vash the Stampede, as we take a trip down memory lane and revisit his most unforgettable moments in Trigun. From dodging bullets with angelic grace to indulging in sweet treats that would make any sugar addict envious – Vash has left an indelible mark on anime fans everywhere. So buckle up, grab your favorite snack (maybe even a donut or two), and join us as we relive the five scenes that made Vash one of the greatest heroes of all time."

Introduction

Introduction

In Trigun, Vash the Stampede is an infamous gunman, known as "The Humanoid Typhoon." He's a wanted man with a $$60 billion bounty on his head, and is constantly pursued by bounty hunters. Despite all this, Vash is a pacifist who only wants to help people. He's often seen helping those in need, even if it means putting himself in danger.

While Vash may be best known for his violent reputation, there are also many scenes that show his kind and caring side. In this article, we'll take a look at some of Vash's most memorable scenes in Trigun, from his selfless acts of kindness to his goofy antics.

Scene 1: Vash’s Angel Arms (Episode 3)

In Trigun, Vash is known for his Angel Arms—a set of six powerful guns that he uses to defend himself and others. In episode 3, we see Vash using his Angel Arms for the first time.

The scene opens with Vash being chased by a group of bounty hunters. He's outnumbered and outgunned, but he's not afraid to fight back. He pulls out his Angel Arms and starts firing at his pursuers.

TheAngel Arms are incredibly powerful, and they give Vash the upper hand in the fight. He quickly dispatches his enemies, leaving them all lying in the dust.

This scene is significant because it's the first time we see Vash using his full power. Up until this point, he's been holding back, but now we see that he's more than capable of taking care of himself. This is just the beginning of Vash's journey, and we can't wait to see what he does next.

Scene 2: Vash’s Showdown with Legato (Episode 5)

In scene 2, Vash has a showdown with Legato. This is one of the most memorable scenes in Trigun because it is a turning point for Vash. Up until this point, Vash has been trying to avoid violence and bloodshed. But in this scene, he realizes that sometimes violence is necessary in order to protect the people he loves.

The scene starts with Legato holding Milly and Meryl hostage. He tells Vash that he must kill 100 people in order to save them. Vash tries to reason with Legato, but Legato will not listen. So Vash is forced to fight him.

The fight is intense, but eventually Vash emerges victorious. He defeats Legato without killing him. This shows that Vash is capable of protecting the people he loves without resorting to violence.

This scene is significant because it marks a change in Vash's character. From this point on, Vash will no longer try to avoid violence. He will use his guns when necessary in order to protect the people he cares about.

Scene 3: Vash’s First Encounter with Knives (Episode 7)

In Episode 7, Vash finally comes face to face with his arch-nemesis, Knives. It's a tense showdown, made all the more so by the fact that Knives is armed with a huge arsenal of knives, and Vash is unarmed.

Despite being outnumbered and outgunned, Vash holds his own against Knives. He dodges every single one of Knives' attacks, and even manages to disarm him at one point. In the end, it's only thanks to a timely intervention from Meryl and Milly that Vash is able to escape alive.

This scene is significant not only because it's the first time Vash and Knives meet, but also because it sets the tone for their entire rivalry. From this point on, it's clear that these two are destined to clash again and again, until one of them finally comes out on top.

Scene 4: Vash’s Survival Test (Episode 10)

In episode 10 of Trigun, Vash is put to the test by Wolfwood and Nicholas D. Wolfwood. The two men are hired by the insurance company to test Vash’s survival skills. They take him to a remote location and leave him there with only a knife and a canteen of water. Vash must find his way back to town within three days.

The first day is relatively easy for Vash, as he is able to find food and shelter. However, on the second day, he runs into trouble when he is attacked by a group of bandits. He is able to hold his own against them, but is seriously injured in the process. Fortunately, he is found by Wolfwood and Nicholas before they can do any more damage.

Vash is then taken back to town, where he recovers from his injuries. This scene showcases Vash’s incredible survival skills, as well as his determination to never give up no matter how difficult the situation may be.

Scene 5: Vash and Wolfwood’s Donut Battle (Episode 13)

In one of the most memorable scenes from Trigun, Vash and Wolfwood have a donut-eating contest that quickly spirals out of control. The two friends are trying to outdo each other with their speed-eating skills, but things quickly get messy.

Before long, they're both covered in donut crumbs and icing, and it's clear that they're both having a great time. It's a lighthearted scene that perfectly encapsulates the friendship between these two characters.

Conclusion

Vash the Stampede is one of the most iconic characters in anime, and his scenes in Trigun are filled with memorable moments. From Angel Arms to Donuts, these five scenes stand out as some of the best examples of Vash's dynamic character. Whether you're a die-hard fan or just getting into Trigun, these five noteworthy scenes will have you laughing, crying, and (hopefully) rooting for our hero!

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[crab-instruments]

Of Rats and Men Part 3

<Part 2 Part 4>

Pairing: Silco x Female Reader

Rating/Warning: teen, violence, reader gives threats and hurts someone but nothing too graphic

Summary: You are a traveling medic, journeying between Piltover and Zaun. One night, you stumble upon a man and take him in. His presence causes havoc on your practice. Set between Act I & Act II. a/n: Sorry about the delay, I moved and got sucked into writing Lock and Key. I have editing the past two chapters slightly for some typos and such (especially since someone said they were rereading it, you kind, brave soul).

For @imalovernotahater

You stared at the pair, an odd silence settling in what was left of your waiting room. “I… what?”

“It seems your practice could use another coat of paint, among other things. I would like to offer my help. Would this be an acceptable form of payment?”

“How did you even know?”

“Word travels fast and I make it my business to know. You’ll need a place to stay, yes? I’ll provide that for you as well. Wouldn’t be good for your lungs to stay in an area damaged by smoke until it’s cleaned up, if the book you lent me is worth its weight. If there’s anything else, I’ll make sure any of your requests are handled.”

Unsure of how to respond, you run your fingers through your hair. This man waltzes in, ready to fix all of your problems, problems you haven’t even had for that long. You barely had time to even think of everything you would need to do but here he was, offering solutions.

“Why… would you do all of this? Do you feel… responsible? If that’s the reason, then—”

“I certainly do not give out charity.” He walked around, inspecting the area like it was a museum, pausing every so often to see the work of art left by the flames. He stopped at the counter you stood in front of, about to continue speaking before something caught his eye. Silco’s facial expression changed, and he slowly grabbed the object Jinx gave you. “Where did you get this?”

You knitted your eyebrows together, not understanding his fascination with the contraption nor the sudden change in topic. “There was a girl last night. She was distressed, upset about something. I calmed her down, helped her. Jinx. Before she left she gave me that as a thank you. I think. Actually, you might want to be careful with that, it could be an active bomb.”

Silco met your eyes, his expression soft. It reminded you of the small smile you saw when he left the first time. An expression that showed so much affection on his scarred face, you wish you could have it memorialized in a painting so you could gaze upon it every day.

“It seems I owe you more than I initially thought,” he mumbled, almost absentmindedly. He put the gadget back on the counter before recomposing himself, adjusting his waistcoat. “Come, I’m sure you’re tired and don’t want to think about this now. Gather what you need from here and I’ll have you taken care of while you decide what you want to do next.”

You stared at him again, shaking your head before smiling to yourself and doing what he told you. This was not the drug lord you heard whispers on the street about.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The Lanes seemed quiet as the three of you walked. You could feel eyes follow you from the dark corners of alleys, but they were more likely for the pair in front of you. The fluorescent and neon lights hurt your eyes, making it hard to take in the full extent of the area.

Eventually you reached a giant neon eye staring at you with the name ‘The Last Drop’ in the middle. This was his base of operations, so you heard. Entering felt like walking into a different world. The bar was open but quiet, and those behind the bar were stocking up to keep busy. They stole glances as the three of you walked up the stairs.

Silco stopped in front of a door in the hallway. “Here is the room you can stay in for now. My office is—”

“The big important looking one directly at the end of the hall?”

He chuckled, “yes, that would be it. Please, let me know if you need anything.”

The two turned and headed in that direction, disappearing behind the door.

You took a breath before putting your hand on the doorknob and twisting it. It creaked like every floorboard in this place. You entered quickly, shutting the door tightly, and leaned your back against it. Slowly, you slid to the floor, tucking your knees to your chest.

Everything felt real and unreal. Are you really here? Did your home burn down? Were you supposed to be dead right now? Grief creeped up, put a hand on your shoulder and dug in harshly. It wasn’t about losing the building, that could be replaced. The pain and sadness you felt stemmed from losing what it stood for: a sanctuary. Built by you.

You knocked your head against the door before standing to snap yourself out of this feeling. It wasn’t productive. You were alive and you created Para-Medic from nothing, you could and would do it again. As you placed what few things you brought with you on the desk, some supplies and the bomb Jinx gave you, doubt clouded your mind once more. Should you rebuild Para-Medic? Were you doing more harm than good not passing judgements, like taking care of Silco? What else was there to be?

The bed in the small room could not have looked more comforting than it did at that moment. Not knowing what else to do, you slipped under the covers and let exhaustion take you.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

You didn’t dream and were thankful for it. With so many worries buzzing around your head, it would have only led to nightmares. The room had no windows, so there was no real way of knowing how much time had passed. You did know, however, you were still tired and there was nothing you could do to remove that.

Sitting up slowly, you rubbed your face in your hands. What would you do now? Would you continue your work from here? What about the Topsiders?

“Fuck.”

You heard a giggle. Turning your head slowly, you saw someone sitting on the floor, looking up at you. You did your best to not scream, but you jumped and hit the wall with your back. Cackling erupted.

“You should have seen your face!”

“Jinx! What are you doing here? What are you doing in this room?” You took deep breaths to calm your heart, but truth be told, the sight of Jinx made matters even more complicated.

“Dad said there was a guest and not to disturb them, but once I learned it was you, I wanted to see you. I didn’t want to wake you, so I just waited.” You noticed then she was fiddling with some of the medical equipment you had brought, namely the stethoscope was around her neck and was spinning a syringe in her hand. You couldn’t bring yourself to care as you processed her words.

“…Dad?”

“Silco.”

“Silco… is your dad…”

“Yep.”

“The same one you mentioned the other day?”

“Yeah. Is this really that difficult?”

“I think Silco being a father is harder to grasp than him being your father. At the same time, with everything that has happened in the past few days, why not? Maybe I’ll become a bio-engineer and make some clones tomorrow.” You sighed. “Are you doing better? Silco, your father, which is still a shock to me, he forgave you?”

“You’re crazy, you know that, right? Your home went up in flames and you’re asking about how I’m doing?” You didn’t say anything, the silence letting Jinx continue. “Yeah, you were right. He was worried, though he didn’t say so or show it at all.”

“I always thought Silco was very transparent about his feelings. Heart right on his sleeve, that man.”

Jinx giggled in response.

The door swung open suddenly. The golden armed woman quickly zeroed in on you.

“Good, you’re awake. Boss wants to see you.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“I never got your name. What is it, if you don’t mind?”

She huffed, inconvenienced, but that seemed to be her whole persona. One inconvenience away from committing mass murder. “Sevika. Hope you’re not squeamish, Doc. No room for Piltie sensitivity, though Silco thinks he’s giving you a gift of some sort.”

“What do you mean by—”

Sevika didn’t let you finish the question, knocking on Silco’s door before opening it.

The office wasn’t grand but gave off the atmosphere of being grand. Possibly because it was Silco’s, and his presence commanded a certain ambiance. The room matched his outfit; fashioned after Piltover but in the style of Zaun. A giant window behind his desk to look out of, books along the wall that may or may not have been read, luxurious furniture that was well worn but high quality. The man himself sat behind the desk, a lit cigar in his hand. The smell from the cigar hung in the air, but you imagined the room would have smelled the same regardless, as it seemed to be ‘his scent.’

What did not belong in the room were two familiar looking men tied up and gagged in front of Silco’s desk. They looked like they had seen better days, bruised and beat up.

Walking into the room, you did your best to keep your expression neutral.

“My dear Medic, I hope you are finding your accommodations satisfactory.” Silco put the cigar down, putting it out in a fluid motion.

“Yes, thank you, Silco. It is very generous of you.”

“I’m no doctor but I assume you’ll want to get some rest before deciding on what to do with your practice. We can handle that in a few days’ time but say the word if you are ready sooner.” He stood and leaned against the desk. “However, I do have a task for you that unfortunately cannot wait. These two were overheard discussing a fire they caused in Piltover. It didn’t take much to reveal they were the arsonists behind the destruction of your home and practice. Considering the damage was to you and your property, the decision on what to do with them falls to you.”

Recalling Sevika’s words before entering about a gift, you thought this is what she was referring to. The choice to take your own revenge. It made sense, the kingpin would think someone would want retribution for what happened, it was the way of the Undercity. Here he was, serving it to you on a silver platter. The question that plagued you the most was why was Silco giving it to you? You weren’t the target, he was. In a sense, the building was collateral damage.

A few seconds had ticked by, and all eyes were on you. Silco looked hopeful, waiting for your next move. The eyes of the two men were anxious but unremorseful.

“You’re sure it was them?”

Sevika spoke from behind you. “I made sure of it myself. Would you like a signed confession?”

You shook your head, looking back at Silco. “These two… are just a symptom of a larger problem. It would not… they are much lower on the food chain. Killing them won’t protect you or serve your interest much.”

A mischievous smirk played on Silco’s lips. “Yes, you are correct. Making an example out of them doesn’t benefit me as much as it would benefit you. From what I can tell, they acted on their own which is why it was easy to find them. They got lucky that night, but that luck ends here. Their actions have started an outrage throughout Zaun, many depended on your care.”

“Allowing you to handle this would align me with you, would it not?”

“Perhaps some might see it that way. I have my own ideas as to what I would like done, but it is truly in your hands.”

“So, if I were to say to turn them over to the Enforcers?”

“Of course, if that is what you wish. I have some… contacts and would make sure they would feel the full extent of the law. You could let them go. You could have them killed in a slow and agonizing way.”

This was a turning point. Whatever your decision here decided your fate and that was a huge weight to bear. Nothing seemed like the correct answer; everything was going to have consequences.

You stepped forward and kneeled down in front of the two men. “Whose decision was it, to burn my practice down?” Neither could speak with the gags in their mouth, but the shorter one pointed with his eyes. The taller one didn’t move. You removed the taller one’s gag so he could speak. “What decision do you think I’ll make? What fate will I give you, hmm?”

He looked ready to eat your face. “You won’t do nothin’. You’re a Topsider with no spine. I’d do it again.”

You smiled in a sickly sweet kind of way. A kind of smile that only led to malice. Before he could even think of backtracking, you slammed your fist into his nose, breaking it with surgical precision.

“Sorry honey, wrong guess. Would you like to go for Double Jeopardy where the scores can really change?”

Blood dripped down his now smashed face. “You bitch!” Silco moved, obviously upset by the targeted insult, but you raised your hand to stop him.

You gripped the man’s jaw harshly, forcing him to look at you straight on. “In truth, I wasn’t sure what I was going to do until you spoke. You’re right, I am a Topsider by birth, but everyone has their limits. It’s really the kindest ones you don’t want to test.

“I was a surgeon before becoming Para-Medic. I know exactly how to cause the most pain while keeping you alive. So many ways of making you regret being born into this world you never thought possible.” Still holding his jaw, you slap his ear hard with an open hand and his face twisted in pain. “That just caused your eardrum to tear.” You didn’t have much room to maneuver, but you twisted his shoulder harshly. “Dislocated your shoulder.” You looked over at the smaller man. “Do you get it? What I give, I can also take away?” He nodded furiously.

You stood quickly and backed away from the two tied up arsonists. Your eyes flitter over to Silco. He looked… disheveled, pupils blown wide. Awestruck and maybe in love, but that could be your imagination. “Do what you want with Nosebleed, whatever you see fit. Rough up the other one but keep him alive. He has a message to spread for those who think they can harm Para-Medic.”

Without a second thought, you left the room.

Part 4

Notes:

and nobody fucks with the white mage

"Maybe I’ll become a bio-engineer and make some clones tomorrow": reference back to the MGS Para-Medic/Dr. Clark, who cloned Big Boss.

"Sorry Hans, wrong answer"

[headcanonsandmore]

Gentry and Gentlemen,  Chapter One

Summary:  Hermione Granger has just begun a new position of governess at Ottery Manor in the Devon Countryside, a world away from her upbringing in Regency-era London. There she meets a redheaded blacksmith man named Ron Weasley. Sparks may just fly between the middle class city woman and the working-class country man with a genuine and heartfelt charm all his own. (Jane Austen Romione AU)

Tagging: @hillnerd @nagemeikenu @acnelli @aimless-twig @femaledoubleagent @thehufflepuffpixie @adenei @abradystrix

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                   Read on FFN.                                      Read on AO3.

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The Regency period is full of stories about dashing military officers and their lovers, titled men and women, and the romantic misadventures of the landed gentry. Almost always of young ladies of the gentry and their aristocratic suitors. Of money, land, and upper class goings-on. The sort of stories that have become synonymous with high romance, retold countless times since.

This is not one of those stories.

 *

 The stagecoach trundled along the country lane. It was the middle of April, and the Devon countryside was quickly losing any vestiges of the winter. Trees were growing green, bees were pollinating all manner of plants, and the lane was fast becoming dusty due to the lack of rain.

‘Oh, really, good sir!’ giggled a lady, her aristocratic manner evident in her voice. ‘You are a delight!’

‘My pleasure, good lady,’ replied the gentleman, a large tall man with a similar way of speaking. ‘I find myself inclined to be such when in the company of such an amiable person as yourself.’

There was a loud crack, as one of the stagecoach wheels hit a hole in the lane.

‘My apologies, ladies and gentlemen!’ exclaimed the coachman from above. ‘The roads have not been repaired after the winter rains!’

‘You’d think the locals would have done something about it,’ complained the gentleman to his lady friend. ‘But I suppose that is to be expected of being so far out from respectable society.’

The woman sat across from the couple stared out of the window, a slight frown briefly appearing on her face. Her fellow passengers did not notice this, and had made no attempt at conversation with her for the entire journey from Exeter. But she was somewhat glad of that.

She was a young woman, in her mid-twenties and, unlike the pair sat across from her, was not wearing the latest fashions of aristocratic society. Her dress was well-worn but functional, as befitted her position. Her hat was smart was simple but sturdy. Her face was impassive, yet strong, and her eyes - a dark brown- were piercingly intelligent. A parasol, far from new, was placed sensibly across her lap. Her shoes, polished but faded from use, were the sort worn by practical working women since time immemorial. However, in contrast to all this was her hair; an enormous bushy mane that strained against the many pins she had used to keep it in place. It was the sort of hair that you couldn’t help but notice, and it was perhaps for that reason that the young lady had chosen to keep her hat on in the coach despite the heat.  

‘Final stop; Ottery St Catchpole!’

The coach trundled to a halt, and the coachman (whose name was Mr Jones) climbed down, pulling the small set of steps out from under the coach door. The gentleman helped his lady companion down, and the two of them sauntered away with their bags without so much as a thank you to the coachman.

Sighing to himself, the coachman turned.

‘Er… my apologies, Mr Jones,’ came a voice from within the coach. ‘Could you help me down, please?’

‘Of course, miss,’ he said, before helping the young lady down to the ground. ‘Allow me to help you with your bags as well.’

‘Thank you.’

As the coachman pulled her bags out from the luggage racks, the young lady stared down the street. The gentleman and his lady friend were laughing loudly to themselves outside one of the shops.

‘They were awfully rude, weren’t they?’

‘Afraid so, Miss,’ replied Mr Jones. ‘Many from London feel that Devon might as well be on another planet.’

‘I hope you won’t judge me by their behaviour.’

‘Oh, of course not, Miss…er… my apologies, my memory isn’t what it once was…’

‘Granger.’ Hermione Granger said, giving a small curtsy. ‘And thank you for keeping me company on such a pleasant journey, Mr Jones.’

‘My pleasure, Miss Granger,’  Mr Jones said, tipping his cap. ‘I’m surprised that such a pleasant young lady like yourself is travelling all alone, truth be told.’

‘Well, you see, I’m on my way to a new place of employment.’ Hermione said. ‘Ottery Manor; perhaps you know it?’

‘Oh, yeah, Miss. Very prominent local gentry.’

‘I am due to take up the post of governess for the young children,’ Hermione elaborated.  

‘A governess, you say?’ Mr Jones said, looking very surprised.

‘Yes, I recently achieved my qualification, you see.’

‘Very impressive, Miss. Er… just a word of warning, if you please?’

‘Whatever for?’

‘Well…’ Mr Jones looked rather uncomfortable. ‘You are… that is…’

Hermione sighed. She had been expecting this.

‘Mr Jones, I am well aware that the colour of my skin is perhaps not what the locals are used to.’

‘Oh, no, miss; that’s not what I meant!’ Mr Jones replied, shaking his head quickly. ‘Good gracious, no! Plymouth isn’t that far away, and we’re used to seeing people from all over the world popping through. It’s just… the gentry round here… aren’t quite so relaxed about it as the ordinary people are.’

Hermione smiled. Mr Jones was a sweet old man who clearly wanted to warn her as best he could, even if he didn’t quite have the terminology correct.

‘Thank you, Mr Jones; you are very kind.’

‘My pleasure, miss.’

‘Could you… point me in the direction of the manor house?’

Mr Jones nodded, pointing along up the narrow winding street of Ottery St Catchpole.

‘You can’t miss it; the big house on the hill.’

‘Thank you.’

As Hermione made her way through the main street, she was aware of just how much of a different world this was to London, where she had lived most of her life. For one thing, people walked far slower and had a relaxed attitude in their comings and goings. One could certainly tell that the pace of life was slower.

Within a few minutes, Hermione had left the village, and headed along the country road up towards the manor house. The lack of rain had meant that dust was virtually inescapable, but Hermione preferred it to the mud she had been concerned about. She wouldn’t have wanted to make a first appearance with her best clothes dirtied. That would be most distressing. She, after all, was being entrusted with the care of the children of the local landed family, and ought to be presentable in a way that acknowledged that responsibility she was being granted.

Her stomach began to squirm, as her nerves became agitated. She had largely avoided thinking too much about it when she was travelling but, now that she was so close to the manor, she couldn’t help worrying. What if she wasn’t qualified for this? What if the other staff members didn’t like her? What if she-

‘NEIIIIIGHHHH!’

Hermione’s thoughts were suddenly interrupted, as a large horse rounded the corner of the lane, galloping as fast as it could, and heading right towards her. It was tall, brown, and looked startled, its eyes wide.

Hermione’s bags slipped from her hands as she stumbled backwards, but the horse was already barely seven feet away. With a cry, Hermione tripped over the uneven ground, her hat flying off her head.

The horse reared up on its hind legs, and Hermione found herself frozen on the ground. Hoofs began to fall.

‘WHOOOAAA!’

Suddenly, the horse was no longer there.

Coming to her senses, Hermione pulled herself to her feet, and collected her bags together.

A man, roughly her age, was stood with the horse a few feet away. The first thing of notice was his height, at least a foot taller than Hermione. His head was framed with short, red hair. Freckles covered every inch of skin that was on show. He was wearing a rough work shirt that was tied up to his elbows, and a pair of trousers that were slightly too short on him. A pair of tough work boots, that had clearly seen better days, completed the ensemble.

‘Sssshhhhh, Tiff….’ He soothed, stroking the horse’s neck slowly. ‘It’s okay, girl… no-one’s going to hurt you…’

‘Good grief!’

Another man had joined him.

‘Good thing you’re such a fast runner, mate!’

‘I try my best,’ replied the redheaded man. ‘Good thing we managed to catch her before she reached the village.’

As the horse was led away by the other man, the redhead turned and, spotting Hermione, ran forward.

‘Miss, are you alright?’ he exclaimed, coming to a stop in front of her. There was a splodge of dirt on his long nose. ‘Tiffany got spooked earlier, and we only just caught up with her. I’m so sorry; are you hurt?’

‘I’m… I’m fine, thank you,’ Hermione said, as a pair of bright blue eyes stared down at her. ‘Although I think my hat must have blown away in the wind.’

The redhead man looked around, and pointed up into the branches of a nearby tree.

‘You mean that one, with the nice bow?’

‘Yes, but-’

The man was up the tree in a flash, and was soon leaping down next to her again, holding her hat.

‘There we go,’ he said, handing it over. ‘Maybe a little dusty, but that’s the heatwave for you.’

‘Thank you,’ Hermione said, placing the hat on top of her bushy hair. The two of them began to walk up the lane. ‘I appreciate your concern, Mr…’

‘Weasley,’ the redhead said, smiling. ‘But there’s enough of the Weasleys around here, so you can just call me Ron. Everyone else does; it’d be confusing otherwise.’

‘I… I don’t think that would be appropriate.’ Hermione said, as she bent down to pick up her bags.

‘Why? We’re all people, aren’t we?’ Mr Weasley replied. ‘Oh, let me help you.’

‘Yes, but I’m…’ Hermione stammered, as her load was lightened considerably. ‘Well, I’m starting at the Manor as the new governess.’

‘Oh, you’re the teacher everyone’s been gossiping about!’ Ron said, cheerily. ‘Miss… Granger, if my memory’s correct?

‘W-why, yes!’ Hermione exclaimed, suddenly feeling rather embarrassed. ‘Er…gossip, you say?’

‘Yes; the scullery-maids have been talking about nothing else for the past week,’ Mr Weasley replied, keenly. ‘Well, that and the summer fete. But, yes; a posh lady governess from up-country coming down to our little neck of the woods! They’ll be delighted to meet you!’

Hermione felt her cheeks flush.

‘I’m not nearly as posh as all that, Mr Weasley,’ she said, primly. ‘So I hope I don’t ruin their expectations when they see me.’

‘Why? You sound posh to me.’

‘No… I… I mean… well, look at me.’

The redhead stared at her in confusion, and Hermione felt she needed to elaborate.

‘Surely they were expecting someone less… exotic?’

Mr Weasley blinked.

‘You are from London, aren’t you? That’s pretty exotic.’

Hermione found herself suddenly laughing. Not the usual polite laughs she had been taught as a girl, but a full, unrestrained laugh, full of accompanying snorts.

‘London… exotic?!’

Mr Weasley grinned at her, his cheeks dimpling under his freckles.

‘If you’re born and raised in Devon, it is,’ he said, cheerfully. ‘Besides, I bet that’s the first time you’ve laughed in a good long while.’

‘Why… yes, it is,’ Hermione replied, smiling. ‘However could you tell?’

‘I hear tell of the aristo’s who take the stagecoach routes down from London. I gather they aren’t much in the way of humorous conversation?’

‘You would be correct about that. But where do you hear that from? Mr Jones the coachman?’

‘Old Jonesey? Oh, yes; lovely old soul. I’m the… well, the blacksmith and the odd-job man for the estate, so I’m in and out of the village a lot.’

Hermione nodded, trying not to notice how well the redheads shirt seemed to fit him. She supposed blacksmiths were all rather… muscley.

Ottery Manor stretched out before them. It was a double-storied building, with fine windows and a pair of thick oak doors. The house was arranged around a central courtyard, so that two wings of the house stretched out in front. A small fountain marked the middle of the courtyard, and the centre of the house was covered in fine ivy. Grounds stretched out around the house in all directions, full of trees and well-trimmed lawns. Hermione could make out some distant greenhouses and vegetable gardens on the periphery.  

‘You like the ivy?’ Mr Weasley enquired, pointing at the plant as they walked up the main pathway towards the house. ‘Me and my brother Bill -he works in the gardens- pruned them just last week; rather a nice effect, eh?’

‘Yes,’ Hermione replied. ‘Are all your siblings employed as members of staff here?’

‘No.’ the redhead said. ‘Percy -he’s the intellectual one- he works in Plymouth in an office. Fred and George -they’re the youngest brothers aside from me- work in the post office a few villages over.’

‘Any sisters?’

‘Just Ginny. She’s the youngest. Mum did want her to get a good job as a scullery maid, but Ginny’s always been more outdoorsy. She works in the gardens most of the time, but she sometimes helps me and Charlie in the forge.’

‘Charlie is… the main blacksmith aside from you, then?’

Mr Weasley laughed.

‘Yes, he’s always been good with animals, so he handles the shoe-fitting. I’m a bit of a jack-of-all-trades, myself; that’s why I’m the odd job man as well.’

‘There is nothing wrong with being multi-skilled,’ Hermione said, earnestly. ‘Most men in London would love to have a wide array of talents.’

Mr Weasley laughed again, his cheeks dimpling again.

By this point, they had reached the courtyard but, instead of heading for the front door, Mr Weasley lead her around one wing of the house and into a yard of sorts. Hermione could hear horses neighing nearby, and presumed that the stables weren’t that far away.

‘You’d best come through the servants entrance,’ Mr Weasley said, leading her up the rear side of the wing and stopping before a door, which was left open. ‘Not a good idea to get on the bad side of the footmen on your first day. Especially the head footman; he’s a right killjoy about these things.’

‘Well, I am a servant, technically.’

‘I know,’ Mr Weasley said, sighing. ‘But, if I had my way, we wouldn’t have to worry about separate entrances. We’re the people who actually keep this place going, not the aristo’s using this place like a retreat for when the season ends in London.’

Hermione felt rather shocked at Mr Weasley’s words, but she opted not to say anything. She could certainly understand his frustration, but she had never met someone who was so open about it.

‘The gentry often have friends and relatives down from London, then?’

‘Yes, but you probably won’t have to worry about them,’ Mr Weasley said, encouragingly. ‘They tend to stay away from the children if they can help it. This time of year, most of them are living the high life in London society; they shouldn’t be arriving here for another couple months.’

‘Well, I lived in London most of my life, but I already rather like it here in Devon.’

The redhead turned to look at her.

‘Really? Why?’

‘Well, judging from what I’ve seen so far, it’s quieter, for one thing. The pace of life in the city is far too extreme. Out here, you can hear the birds in the trees, see the bees in the hedgerows, smell the…’

‘Muck on the fields?’

Hermione laughed.

‘You’re very amusing, Mr Weasley.’

‘I try,’ the redhead said, his cheeks dimpling as he smiled. ‘Not very often I get the opportunity to make a woman laugh without making a prat of myself first.’

‘Oh, I-I’m sure all the local girls adore you.’

‘With five older brothers? I barely get a look in,’ Mr Weasley chuckled, his ears going a little pink. ‘But, thank you, miss.’

‘My… my pleasure, Mr Weasley.’

‘Mr Weasley, I trust you haven’t been frightening the new governess.’

A man had stepped out from the servants entrance. Judging by his dress, he was a footman of some description. His hair was surprisingly greasy, and he had a long, hooked nose. His voice gave an indication that he had taken elocution lessons to disguise a midlands accent.

‘Oh, no, sir!’ Hermione exclaimed, as the two of them deposited her bags near the door. ‘Mr Weasley came to my assistance when my hat blew astray on the front drive.’

Mr Weasley grinned at the footman.

‘Wouldn’t be a gentleman if I didn’t do so, sir.’

‘Mr Weasley… you are not a gentleman, and never will be. You are a commoner, and you would do well to remember it,’ the footman said, looking unkindly up at Ron over his long hooked nose. ‘Now, Miss Granger, if you would accompany me this way…’

As Hermione followed the footman, she happened to look back over her shoulder. Mr Weasley caught her eye, and mouthed “what an oily-haired git, eh?”. Hermione bit down on her lower lip to stop herself laughing.

 *

 On reflection, Hermione was rather embarrassed that she’d been so nervous about her first meeting with her employers. The lord of the manor seemed disinterested the entire time, while his wife asked a few questions about Hermione’s teaching qualification. In fact, Hermione spent most of the meeting nodding politely while the lady discussed the difficulty in finding a good governess in the local area, and that they appreciated that Hermione had come such a long way.

She was then escorted by the head footman back to the servants entrance, all the while wondering if all lords and ladies were so… underwhelming as people.

‘Thank you, but where should I-’

But the footman had already walked away.

Hermione looked around, her nerves building again. She didn’t know her way around, and she hadn’t even been told where her lodgings would be. Maybe she should-

‘All finished?’

Mr Weasley had poked his head through the door.

‘Y-yes,’ Hermione said. ‘But… well, where should I put all my…’

‘Oh, I’ll help you,’ Mr Weasley replied, cheerfully. ‘I can’t go into the women’s quarters, but I can let the scullery maids know that you’ve arrived.’

Turning, he knocked on a door.

‘Parvati? Lavender? The new governess is here; can you help her move her things into the women’s dormitory?’

There was a loud squeal from inside the room.

Rolling his eyes, Mr Weasley opened the door, and poked his head around it.

‘Oy; are you two finished?’

A few moments later, two women appeared from behind the door. Both of them dressed in the same simple uniform, and both roughly the same age as Hermione. They also both seemed to be very giggly.

‘Hello, Miss Granger!’ said one of them, who seemed to be of Indian descent. ‘Nice to meet you; I’m Parvati, and this is Lavender.’

Lavender, a girl with blonde hair that was pulled up under her bonnet, smiled.

‘Sorry we couldn’t meet you at the gates,’ Parvati said. ‘Me and Lav got a bit… distracted.’

There was a snicker from Mr Weasley. Lavender laughed, and slapped him playfully on the arm.

‘Anyway,’ Parvati continued, and Hermione was confused as to why the girl’s face had flushed at Mr Weasley’s comment. ‘We’ll help you take your bags up to the dorm.’

‘I wouldn’t want to cause you any trouble-’

‘Oh, it’s no trouble,’ Lavender said. ‘Besides, we never get to talk to anyone from London; do you know what the most recent styles are?’

‘Er…’ Hermione trailed off, as the two girls hurried along the corridor. She was about to follow, when she realised that the tall redhead was still there. She turned to face him again.

‘Thank you for all your help, Mr Weasley,’ Hermione said, giving a quick curtsy. ‘I am most pleased to make your acquaintance.’

‘As am I to make yours, Miss Granger,’ the redhead replied, his freckled cheeks dimpling once again. ‘Although, like I say, “Ron” is fine. There’s half a dozen Mr Weasleys here, so it just saves time.’

‘In that case, I will call you that,… Ron.’

The redhead grinned, before leaving to run across the wild grass nearby in the direction of the stables. The shirt Ron was wearing was, indeed, rather tight on him, and Hermione couldn’t help but notice how his muscles strained against the fabric as he ran, the sunlight reflecting beautifully off his red hair.

Hermione smiled, as she turned to follow Parvati and Lavender along the corridor. Ottery St Catchpole was shaping up to be a rather wonderful place to live.

~~~~~~~~~~

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