#also happy weed day thursday the 20th :]
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AUGh accidentally stayed asleep for. almost the entire day somehow anD I MISSED WEED DAY AFTERNOON NOOOOoo /LH
#also happy weed day thursday the 20th :]#now time to figure out what to do hm..#ascelchat#edit: wait nvm my headdchae came back aAUgh
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CELESTIAL FORECAST
Week July 20 - 26
Highlights:
On Monday the 20th there is the New Moon in Cancer
On Thursday the 23rd, The Sun enters Leo! ☀️Happy Leo Season!☀️
Hello Guys! So I have posted the first two days before (that I have linked on their dates so no worries), but now that I have some time off I can do the rest. This week will feel creative and experimental with our entry into Leo season along with some positive influences from Mars, Venus and Uranus sprinkled in on some days. It's a good start to the lunar cycle and solar season and a great time to focus on our projects, ambitions and what we truly need to do to be our best and most authentic selves. The week is almost over (sorry) but here is some recommendations to do on each day!
Note: Times are set to UTC
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20th
New Moon in Cancer Sun in Cancer opposite Saturn rx in Capricorn Chiron rx in Aries sextiles Sappho in Libra ☾♋ Moon Trines Neptune rx in Pisces ☾ VOC 17:55 - 20:16 ☾♌ Moon enters Leo
Details: Here
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21st
Mars in Aries sextiles Eros in Gemini Mercury in Cancer squares Sappho in Libra ☾♌ Moon Squares Uranus in Taurus ☾♌ Moon Trines Chiron rx and Mars in Aries ☾♌ Moon Sextiles Sappho and Juno in Libra
Details Here
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22nd
Mercury in Cancer sextiles Uranus in Taurus ☾♌ Moon Sextiles Eros and Venus in Gemini ☾ VOC 0:27 - 11:40
Energy: Today is great for expanding your mind and perspective with Mercury sextiling Uranus. This complimentary energy is pushing us to change our mindsets and bring in new information which can be beneficial to our craft in adding stuff to our practice, book of shadows or change our techniques. The lunar transits are brief today with the moon in Leo wrapping up by sextiling Eros and Venus in Gemini. These beneficial sextiles are great for making connections with our loves, passions, sexual and romantic interests and desires. Overall it's a lovely day to focus on what you love, change your methods, bring in new perspectives and brainstorm methods or bullet point lists to achieve goals for this lunar cycle before you.
Today is great for research and expanding on your craft with Mercury sextiling Uranus in Taurus. With the moon sextiling Eros and Venus in Gemini it's wonderful for love magic, sex attraction magic, focusing on your passions and experimenting with stuff you love to focus your energy on. For the void of course it'll be great to reflect and focus on making a bullet point list of things you need to do in order to bring the current goals or reality you want for this lunar cycle.
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23rd
Sun enters Leo Mercury in Cancer trines Ceres rx in Pisces ☾♍ Moon enters Virgo ☾♍ Moon Opposite Neptune rx in Pisces ☾♍ Moon Trines Uranus in Taurus ☾♍ Moon Sextiles Mercury in Cancer
Energy: Happy Leo Season!! The sun enters Leo today starting off a new cycle launching us into the middle of Summertime. With the sun in it's home sign of Leo we may feel more vibrant, more expressive, MORE dramatic and more creative. This is a fantastic time to channel in some solar magic and start to work with the sun. Today's theme will also be colored by mercury trining Ceres retrograde giving us an opportunity for self-care and nurturing which could benefit us greatly if we take the chance to carve out time for ourselves.
The moon enters Virgo today giving us a more analytic and responsible mood for the next two days. This is a great time to start making bullet points or plans of action to materialize your goals. First the moon will trine Uranus in Taurus giving us a positive window of time to bring changes into our lives. We may even have a new lucky exciting encounter or find a sudden door opening that can bring a new shift in perspective or opportunity our way. Look out for this! The moon next will sextile Mercury in Cancer and be opposite Neptune rx in Pisces at the same time. With the moon and Mercury sextile we will feel pushed to analyze our mental landscape especially in regards to our beliefs and faith with the opposition causing tension from Neptune rx. We may feel confronted by outlandish beliefs, illusions or even our own beliefs that are not really serving us and need to weed out what works for us logically vs what is just spiritual escapism that needs to go. It's a good time to review your craft and faith and try to consider any changes that needs to come about with the way you approach it. With the lunar trine with Uranus it's a great opportunity for change today.
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24th
☾♍ Moon Opposite Ceres rx in Pisces ☾♍ Moon Squares Eros and Venus in Gemini ☾♍ Moon Trines Jupiter rx, Pluto rx and Saturn rx in Capricorn ☾ VOC 23:07 - 1:53
Energy: Today may feel sprinkled with a bit of tension here and there but it's a good day to reflect and just work on yourself, what needs to find solutions or organization with the moon transiting Virgo. First it will be opposite Ceres rx in Pisces which can bring about external scenarios that may make us feel a bit cold or that we need to tend to ourselves. We could benefit from some self care magic by channeling the lunar virgo energies into kitchen magic (preparing a healthy meal with healing correspondences or a healthy potion smoothie with herbal tinctures blended in like rhodiola or st. johns wort =avoid if you take anti-depressants= to boost our mood), or cleansing magic by clearing out and bringing order to our space. (Also can help in this time to buy some more plant babies! That will fit the virgo lunar self love themes). The moon after will square Eros and Venus in Gemini bringing tensions towards our love lives, needs to achieve or connect with our desires and sensualities. This can give us an irrationally insatiable appetite for pleasures which means we need to be wary about how much we could be spending today on food, clothes or drinks. It may also make us feel a bit lonely if we haven't been feeling loved lately or satisfied. Instead of taking action, sit with any emotions the squares are bringing up and write down what you would like to manifest in your life. After squares always comes a sextile or a trine and in this case it's a Trine which will bring luck and opportunities your way if you act on them. If something feels like it's missing in this department of your life, do a road-opening or barrier-breaking spell to bring in that opportunity. Lastly the moon will go through a set of trines with Jupiter rx, Pluto rx and Saturn rx in Capricorn. This window of time is a great opportunity to work on your inner expansion, connection with your inner power and deeper self and connect with the work you wish to build upon that represents your genuine ideals. As it's a trine especially with retrograde energies, the energy will feel a bit subtle and we could miss the window of time but with the moon in Virgo it's a great time to analyze these aspects of ourselves and plan for the cycle ahead. Shadow work will be great during this time if you are unsure where to start. Using divination can help bring great insight. Just free-writing and brainstorming ideas with bullet-point lists can bring up new insights to focus on.
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25th
Mercury in Cancer squares Juno in Libra ☾♎ Moon enters Libra ☾♎ Moon Conjunct Sappho in Libra ☾♎ Moon Sextiles Sun in Leo
Energy: The moon enters Libra today changing the mood to becoming more social and harmonious. It is also sextiling the Sun bringing an energetic push to explore, experiment and create in order to expand off of the ideas we've been coming up with since the New Moon. This crescent moon is great for experimenting and brainstorming ways to bring our goals into reality. Even if you do not have a set goal in mind for this cycle, the waxing crescent moon is a fun time to experiment with creating tools in the craft and trying new things in magic. Since it's in Libra (and sextiling the sun in Leo) it could be a fun time to experiment with glamours, making body oils/perfumes/lotions or any bath magic that can help with glamours. It's a great time to experiment with attraction magic especially in attracting friends or networks that can help you expand on your creativity. In general this is a good time to make connections. With the moon conjunct Sappho in Libra we will definitely feel the mood to connect with our genuine interests and what makes us feel like our authentic selves. This can be amplified through magic we can experiment with or people we can meet or attract our way. Lastly the overall theme of the day can be flavored by Mercury squaring Juno in Libra causing us to focus on what we would like to devote ourselves to and our commitments. Even if you are unsure where to experiment with your craft, this energy can definitely influence that as it may make you feel an urgent need to do something in regards to your commitments, relationships or devotions. Like any squares, make sure to sit with the energy and clear anything blocking your way energetically before making decisions, as they can end up being rash or frustrating to pull through due to the tense energies.
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26th
☾♎ Moon Conjunct Juno in Libra ☾♎ Moon Opposite Mars and Chiron rx in Aries ☾♎ Moon Squares Mercury in Cancer ☾♎ Moon Trines Eros and Venus in Gemini
Energy: Today may be mostly influenced by the moon conjunct Juno in Libra which can cause our emotions to be revolving around our general commitments, relationship commitments and what we devote ourselves to. Especially in the arena of romance, we may feel this affect whether it could be that we are yearning for a partner, we may feel fixated on our partner or we may be looking for a group of people or a cause to belong to. There will be some challenges today with the moon being opposite Mars in Aries. This can bring up sudden confrontations or adversity so it's good to ward yourself in the morning and wear anything protective to avoid hostility. Chiron rx is not far behind this transit so the moon will also be opposite that bringing us external events that will cause us either to be aware of inner pain or what needs to be healed. The two oppositions together could potentially be triggering so it's good to set up protection so the window of time could pass by without much issue other than maybe showing us where we need to work on. Additionally with oppositions, it's a good time to work with the opposing energy and channel that in order to work with it. With the mars opposition it's a good time to channel Mars into magic tools or crafts or into ourselves if we feel we are lacking courage or need more motivation. The same with the Chiron retrograde, yet instead of channeling that, it's a good time to look within at what needs healing or solutions. The moon will square Mercury in cancer giving us a moment of reflection. In this time it may be hard to move forward or think straight but it's a good time to reflect and focus on any tension and where we could be blocked. It will be a great window of time for meditation as we may find some helpful insights at this time that could help us with inner healing. Lastly the moon will trine Eros and Venus in Gemini giving us a beautiful window of opportunity for love and sex magic, love and sex attraction magic, attracting opportunities that reflect our values or incite our passions or channeling that energy our way.
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Bonjour tout le monde, the temperature is 12c and although it is cloudy the sun is shining.
Last Sunday, there was a whirlwind of activity in my house as not only did I get the peppers and chillies “potted on” before going for crumble at my friends house, but I also managed to “whip up” a small marmalade cake to take with me. I took a tomato, pepper and chilli plant to Anie, she has never grown peppers and chillies but as they say over here she has “la main verte” and I am sure she will get results from them.
I received a response to the email I sent the Prefecture, saying that my new Carte de Sejour would be with me soon, obviously not soon enough for me as six weeks have now passed since the appointment and still no card!
It has been a cloudy, windy week here, even paradise can have it’s “off” days! However, I have still managed to tend to my plants. I planted the strawberries into their new planters and bought a little wheeled platform for it to stand on. After taking the opportunity to mow the front grass (it wasn’t done last week and looked untidy) I then set about sorting out my second little “potager”, it is where I keep all of the potted plants so laid some weed suppressant down to keep it looking neater. My friend brought me a “periwinkle” plant and I planted it round by the shrubs in the back garden, I also bought a campanula which I put under there too, hoping that this will spread and form ground cover.
The start time for our nightly curfew was put back to 9pm, as restaurant, cafes and bars opened to provide terrace service only, this was from the 19th May. I had emailed the proprietor of “my” bar and I received his reply on the 20th, saying he had opened the bar the previous evening. I decided to go in the afternoon, no-one outside when I arrived, shortly after there were another five clients. It was very nice to go out and get back into “watching the world go by” while chatting to friends.
My friend, video called me the other evening, I hadn’t got round to closing the shutters and by the time she went off the phone it was well past 10pm. I walked to the windows and in the garden I saw a hedgehog, I realised that the “calling cards” I had found on the grass were not from a cat but perhaps from this visitor. I watched it for some time absolutely fascinated. The next morning when I opened the shutters, there was lots of “calling cards” right outside the french doors, so he had had a good wander around. I have now been on hedgehog watch every evening. It seems to go to the large laurel shrub at the back of the garden, spend about an hour around there and then walks back across the grass and wanders off. I told my neighbour and he has been watching, he said it is under his shed again, as that was where the rat had lived earlier this year, I wondered if the hedgehog has nested under the deep pile of dead leaves under the laurel bush this year, I have no idea but I am just so pleased to see it in my garden.
Marie-Therese called and we had our Thursday coffee, cake and chat. It was lovely to see her and although it was just over four weeks since she had been here we had so much to talk about. She loves to see the photos and videos of my gorgeous granddaughter. The results from a scan had not been good news but she is happy to continue with the treatment and continue with her all of the things that bring pleasure to her life. Monique messaged to see how I was and to say that she was booked in for her first vaccination last Thursday. As a lady, almost 70 years old, I do wonder why it has taken her so long to have this first vaccination, after all her husband has had both of his. Anyway, she said she was having the Pfizer vaccine so in six weeks she should be having her second one. She will resume the French class in……..September!!! It is a strange thing to say, but I feel that our friendship has run it’s course, we don’t seem to have anything in common, and looking back I wonder if we ever did. However, we will just have to wait and see.
The knitting workshop came around again and I had four ladies there, my shoulder had been aching (probably with mowing and lugging heavy plant pots) so I decided to have a break and just help out where needed. One lady wanted to learn to “cast on” and we did that, I also watched another lady casting on and was surprised with her method, I think I may practice it at home. One of the ladies came in and said that she had brought me a present, she had painted a picture of flowers, onto a canvas and wanted me to have it. I cannot tell you how I felt, these people who have given up everything, moved far away from friends and family, are stressed waiting to find out if their “right to remain” will be granted, and she has taken the time to do something to relieve the boredom and she wanted to give me this present.
I went to the “Consiel Municipal” the other evening, I was one of four members of the public who attended the meeting. I do hope I did not “throw” Monsieur le Maire off his stride, as I was sat directly opposite him and was busy making notes for the hour and a half that I was there. As the curfew was still at 7pm I had to leave before the end, but it was interesting all the same. When I returned home, three of my neighbours were in one of their gardens, there was another man with them and they were in deep discussion…...I panicked, was there another RAT! Had there been a burglary? The neighbour whose garden they were in is a lady who also lives alone, they spoke to me and I soon learned that the lady was having “fibre” fitted but unfortunately the telephone point outside her home was unable to be located. She seems to think that it is underneath the huge laurel bush at the front of the house. She was telling me that it is obligatory to have fibre now…….umm my telephone provider asked if I wanted fibre, made no mention that it is obligatory. Something to put on the “To Do” list methinks!
I had a video call with my granddaughter and “The Daddy” the other day, she goes to nursery four days a week but the fifth day she has at home with her daddy, she so looks forward to that day as they play with dolls, do drawings, read books etc. She was showing me paintings she had done at nursery and was telling me about her friends there. She is just so lovely, I cannot wait to see her again. There is yet more drama for “The Mummy” and “The Daddy” and to be honest they can really do without it. Fingers crossed that it can all be resolved soon.
“The Paralegal” has not known whether he was on his head or his heels this week, not just with work (although that would have been enough) however as it is almost time for Lucy to hand in her dissertation, he has been proofreading that since Wednesday. The good thing is that he has been able to see “the babies”, Tilly and Chester for a few hours. He told me that he is going to have a walk today and I really hope that he manages it, as he had been enjoying his walks and it is no good giving them up now.
Talking of walks, I have not been doing as much walking lately, although walking up and down the garden with the lawnmower, going from the front to the back of the house several times when bringing equipment to tend to the garden, all of this should count as when I have finished I am completely worn out.
My neighbour called round last night, asking if I would like some rhubarb, I came away with an armful and I managed to get two bags filled and into the freezer, the other rhubarb will be stewed this afternoon.
I have managed to get through this blog without any telephone calls, that means that I have this afternoon to myself (well I know that the garage is calling), it is my “potting shed” and I do so want to get the tomatoes potted on otherwise they will not bear fruit.
Until next time……
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FOX ANNOUNCES WINTER PREMIERE DATES FOR NEW AND RETURNING SERIES
NEW COMEDY SERIES "CALL ME KAT," STARRING EMMY AWARD NOMINEE MAYIM BIALIK, AND EXECUTIVE-PRODUCED BY JIM PARSONS, AND THE FINAL SEASON OF HIT COMEDY "LAST MAN STANDING," STARRING TIM ALLEN, TO DEBUT FOLLOWING "NFL ON FOX" DOUBLEHEADER, SUNDAY, JANUARY 3, BEFORE THEIR TIME PERIOD PREMIERES ON THURSDAY, JANUARY 7
NEW UNSCRIPTED GUESSING-GAME SERIES "THE MASKED DANCER" TO PREMIERE SUNDAY, DECEMBER 27, FOLLOWING "NFL ON FOX" DOUBLEHEADER; TIME PERIOD PREMIERE SET FOR WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 6
"THE RESIDENT" AND "PRODIGAL SON" BEGIN NEW SEASONS TUESDAY, JANUARY 12, FOR A NIGHT OF SAVING LIVES AND SOLVING MURDERS
MONDAYS COME TO THE RESCUE, AS "9-1-1" AND "9-1-1: LONE STAR" SPRING INTO ACTION, AIRING BACK-TO BACK FOR THE FIRST TIME, BEGINNING MONDAY, JANUARY 18
All-New Season of Gordon Ramsay's HELL'S KITCHEN to Premiere Thursday, January 7
FOX is announcing premiere dates for THE MASKED DANCER (Dec. 27), CALL ME KAT (Jan. 3), LAST MAN STANDING (Jan. 3), HELL'S KITCHEN (Jan. 7), THE RESIDENT (Jan. 12), PRODIGAL SON (Jan. 12), 9-1-1 (Jan. 18), and 9-1-1: LONE STAR (Jan. 18).
This December, FOX takes TV's #1 show and adds a little twist. Based on the smash hit FOX series THE MASKED SINGER and inspired by a popular segment featured on "The Ellen DeGeneres Show," all-new celebrity competition series THE MASKED DANCER will have a special premiere Sunday, Dec. 27 (8:00-9:00 PM ET/5:00-6:00 PM PT, Live to all Time Zones), before having its time period premiere Wednesday, Jan. 6 (8:00-9:00 PM ET/PT). Hosted by comedian/actor Craig Robinson ("Ghosted," "The Office") and featuring celebrity panelists Ken Jeong (THE MASKED SINGER, I CAN SEE YOUR VOICE), world-famous choreographer and singer Paula Abdul, actor and the former "Giraffe" Mask on THE MASKED SINGER Brian Austin Green and actress and singer Ashley Tisdale, THE MASKED DANCER will feature celebrity contestants shaking their tail feathers, while covered from head-to-toe in elaborate costumes and face masks, leaving audiences to guess their identities. Costumed celebrities will be joined on stage by masked partners and back-up dancers, as they perform a series of dances together; spanning from hip-hop to salsa, jazz to tap dancing and more. When it comes to dance styles, the sky is the limit. Each week, a series of clues will be sprinkled throughout packages, costumes and routines, leading the panelists one step closer to figuring out which famous faces are freestyling behind the masks. Between all of the celebrity competitors on the show, they've amassed more than 38 million albums sold worldwide, 20 Emmy(R) Award wins, 20 Grammy(R) Award nominations, 10 World Dancing titles, five New York Times Best-Selling Author titles, four Olympic gold medals and three Broadway show appearances. THE MASKED DANCER is produced by FOX Alternative Entertainment and Warner Bros. Unscripted & Alternative Television and is based on the South Korean format, THE MASKED SINGER, created by Mun Hwa Broadcasting Corp and distributed by MBC America. James Breen, Craig Plestis, Daniel Martin and Ellen DeGeneres are executive producers of the series. Breen will serve as showrunner.
New comedy CALL ME KAT, starring Emmy Award nominee Mayim Bialik ("The Big Bang Theory"), and executive-produced by Bialik, Emmy Award-nominated producer Jim Parsons ("The Big Bang Theory," "The Boys in the Band") and Darlene Hunt ("The Big C"), will have a special series premiere Sunday, Jan. 3 (8:00-8:30 PM ET/PT), following the NFL ON FOX doubleheader. The series then makes its time period premiere Thursday, Jan. 7 (9:00-9:30 PM ET/PT). Based on the BBC UK original series "Miranda," CALL ME KAT stars Bialik as a woman who struggles every day against society and her mother to prove that she can still live a happy and fulfilling life despite still being single at 39. Which is why she recently spent her entire savings to open a cat café in Louisville, Kentucky. It was expected of KAT (Bialik) to be married with kids by now, but for many reasons, she's still single - and totally fine with it. Of course, Kat's mother, SHEILA (Emmy Award winner and Golden Globe nominee Swoosie Kurtz, "Mike & Molly," "Sisters"), views her daughter's single-hood as her own personal failure, but Kat remains determined to live a fulfilling life, and charts her own course to happiness. Working alongside Kat at the café are RANDI (Kyla Pratt, "One on One"), a confident millennial and self-proclaimed "non" cat person; and PHIL (Emmy Award winner Leslie Jordan, "The Cool Kids," "Will & Grace"), who recently broke up with his longtime partner. Although Kat celebrates her independence, her single-forever plans may begin to veer off-course, when her former crush and good friend, MAX (Cheyenne Jackson, "American Horror Story," "30 Rock"), returns to town and takes a job as a bartender at the piano bar across the street, working with his friend, CARTER (Julian Gant, "Good Girls"). CALL ME KAT is produced by That's Wonderful Productions!, Sad Clown Productions and BBC Studios' Los Angeles production arm in association with Warner Bros. Television and FOX Entertainment. Darlene Hunt is the executive producer and showrunner. Additionally, Jim Parsons, Todd Spiewak (That's Wonderful Productions!), Mayim Bialik (Sad Clown Productions), Miranda Hart, Angie Stephenson (BBC Studios) and Beth McCarthy-Miller also serve as executive producers. McCarthy-Miller directed the series premiere.
Entering its ninth and final season, hit comedy LAST MAN STANDING will have a special season premiere Sunday, Jan. 3 (8:30-9:00 PM ET/PT), following the series premiere of CALL ME KAT. LAST MAN STANDING makes its time period premiere Thursday, Jan. 7 (9:30-10:00 PM ET/PT). The series stars Tim Allen as MIKE BAXTER, a happily married father of three daughters, who finds himself the odd man out in a home dominated by women. The series also stars Nancy Travis, Amanda Fuller, Molly McCook, Christoph Sanders, Jordan Masterson, Jonathan Adams, Krista Marie Yu and Hector Elizondo. After the events of the eighth season finale, during which Kristin (Fuller) went into labor with her baby daughter, while Mandy (McCook) was pregnant with her first child, the series will jump ahead into the near future, when Mike and his wife, Vanessa (Travis), will contemplate their own future, including Mike's imminent retirement from his lifelong job at Outdoor Man - and who could be his successor. LAST MAN STANDING is produced by 20th Television. The series was created by Jack Burditt. Kevin Abbott, Matt Berry, Kevin Hench, Ed Yeager, Tim Allen, Marty Adelstein, Shawn Levy, Becky Clements, Richard Baker, Rick Messina, Pat Bullard, Mike Teverbaugh, Linda Teverbaugh and John Amodeo are executive producers. Abbott serves as the series' showrunner.
Also on Thursday, Jan. 7 (8:00-9:00 PM ET/PT), hit culinary competition series HELL'S KITCHEN returns for its 19th season in a flashy new setting, as Chef Gordon Ramsay takes the show to Las Vegas, the city that's home to the world's first Gordon Ramsay HELL'S KITCHEN restaurant at Caesars Palace. For the first time ever, 16 aspiring chefs from around the country will roll the dice and head to Sin City in the hopes of winning big. Each week, the competition will get hotter as the chefs are put through rigorous culinary challenges - reaping high stakes rewards and punishments, all with a Sin City flare. But only those who possess the right combination of ingredients will continue in the competition, until one is named winner. At stake is a life-changing grand prize, including a Head Chef position at Gordon Ramsay HELL'S KITCHEN Lake Tahoe at Harvey's Hotel and Casino, and the title of HELL'S KITCHEN winner. HELL'S KITCHEN is produced by ITV Entertainment in association with A. Smith & Co. Productions, Inc. Gordon Ramsay, Arthur Smith, Kent Weed, Kenny Rosen and Bernie Schaeffer serve as executive producers.
Season Four of THE RESIDENT, premiering Tuesday, Jan. 12 (8:00-9:00 PM ET/PT), continues to shine a light on the daily heroism of today's health care workers. The provocative medical drama follows the doctors and nurses at Chastain Memorial Hospital, as they face personal and professional challenges and fight for their patients' health. The new season picks up as DR. CONRAD HAWKINS (Matt Czuchry) and NURSE PRACTIONER NICOLETTE NEVIN (Emily VanCamp) tie the knot in an intimate and beautiful wedding, strengthening their already powerful bond. Meanwhile, Chastain is transitioning from private to public hospital, causing the hero doctors to fight to fix the broken machine from the inside. DR. RANDOLPH BELL (Bruce Greenwood) finds himself mining his own past to find his estranged former stepson, elite plastic surgeon DR. JAKE WONG (guest star Conrad Ricamora). Bell attempts to bring Dr. Wong to Chastain to increase the number of world-class surgeries at the hospital and to repair their complicated past. Additionally, as star surgical resident DR. MINA OKAFOR (Shaunette Renée Wilson) and her brilliant mentor, DR. AJ AUSTIN (Emmy Award nominee Malcolm-Jamal Warner), grow closer than ever, they must learn to maintain a professional relationship within the walls of the hospital. The series also stars Manish Dayal, Jane Leeves and Morris Chestnut. THE RESIDENT is produced by 20th Television. Todd Harthan, Andrew Chapman, Peter Elkoff, Amy Holden Jones, Rob Corn, Antoine Fuqua and Oly Obst are executive producers.
From executive producer Greg Berlanti, Season Two of PRODIGAL SON premieres on Tuesday, Jan. 12 (9:00-10:00 PM ET/PT). PRODIGAL SON follows MALCOLM BRIGHT (Tom Payne), a criminal profiler with a rare talent for getting inside the minds of killers. He learned how they think because his father, DR. MARTIN WHITLY (Michael Sheen), was a notorious serial killer known as "The Surgeon." Now he's using his twisted genius to help the NYPD solve their most puzzling murders. Bright's team, led by his longtime mentor, NYPD Lieutenant GIL ARROYO (Lou Diamond Phillips), includes Detectives DANI POWELL (Aurora Perrineau), JT TARMEL (Frank Harts) and medical examiner DR. EDRISA TANAKA (Keiko Agena). Season Two picks up with Bright's personal life in disarray after the shocking actions of his sister, AINSLEY (Halston Sage), in the Season One finale. Now, he must "take care" of her and protect his mother, JESSICA WHITLY (Bellamy Young), from a secret that could tear the family apart all over again. Further complicating matters, Martin seeks to deepen his relationship with Bright, his "prodigal son," but forging this bond leads to shocking twists and revelations. PRODIGAL SON is produced by Berlanti Productions in association with Warner Bros. Television and FOX Entertainment. Chris Fedak and Sam Sklaver created the series, and are executive producers, showrunners and writers on the show. Greg Berlanti and Sarah Schechter also serve as executive producers.
FOX's #1 drama, 9-1-1, and last season's #1 new scripted series, 9-1-1: LONE STAR, will have their back-to-back season premieres on Monday, Jan. 18. Creators Ryan Murphy, Brad Falchuk and Tim Minear reenergize the procedural drama with 9-1-1 and the first extension of its universe, 9-1-1: LONE STAR, set in Austin, TX. Both series explore the high-pressure experiences of police officers, firefighters and dispatchers who are thrust into the most frightening, shocking and heart-stopping situations. These emergency responders must try to balance saving those who are at their most vulnerable with solving the problems in their own lives. The fourth season premiere of 9-1-1 (8:00-9:00 PM ET/PT) kicks off with another jaw-dropping signature disaster that only Los Angeles' finest and fearless first responders can handle. After a devastating 8.0 earthquake and coastal tsunami wreaked havoc in the city, what could possibly be next? Meanwhile, among the chaos, Athena (Angela Bassett) is determined to put her physical and emotional injuries behind her and jump back into the job, as Maddie (Jennifer Love Hewitt) and Chimney (Kenneth Choi) prepare for the birth of their baby, and Buck (Oliver Stark) delves into his past to help deal with his present. The series also stars Peter Krause, Aisha Hinds, Ryan Guzman, Rockmund Dunbar, John Harlan Kim, Corinne Massiah, Marcanthonee Reis and Gavin McHugh. 9-1-1 is produced by 20th Television in association with Ryan Murphy Television and Brad Falchuk Teley-Vision. Ryan Murphy, Brad Falchuk and Tim Minear are creators and executive producers. Alexis Martin Woodall, Bradley Buecker, John J. Gray, Kristen Reidel, Angela Bassett and Peter Krause are executive producers. Minear and Reidel serve as co-showrunners on the series. Buecker directed the series premiere and continues to direct episodes of the series.
Actress Gina Torres ("Suits," "Pearson," "Firefly") joins Season Two of 9-1-1: LONE STAR (9:00-10:00 PM ET/PT) as Captain TOMMY VEGA. But even as CPT. OWEN STRAND (Rob Lowe) welcomes Vega to the 126, he must face the unexpected arrival of his ex-wife, Gwyneth (recurring guest star Lisa Edelstein, "House"), who visits Austin to check on their firefighter son, T.K. (Ronen Rubinstein), following the injuries he sustained at the end of last season. All of this occurs as the rescue squad must deal with an emergency that the Texas capital has never encountered before. The series also stars Jim Parrack, Sierra McClain, Natacha Karam, Brian Michael Smith, Rafael Silva and Julian Works. 9-1-1: LONE STAR is produced by 20th Television in association with Ryan Murphy Television and Brad Falchuk Teley-Vision. Ryan Murphy, Brad Falchuk and Tim Minear are creators and executive producers. Alexis Martin Woodall, Bradley Buecker, Rashad Raisani, John J. Gray, Angela Bassett and Rob Lowe are executive producers. Minear and Raisani serve as co-showrunners on the series. Buecker directed the series premiere and continues to direct episodes of the series.
Catch up on all shows with On Demand, FOX NOW and Hulu. Episodes are available to watch On Demand for customers of AT&T TV, Cox, DIRECTV, DISH, Spectrum, Sling TV, Verizon FiOS, XFINITY, YouTube TV and many more. Fans also can stream episodes on FOX NOW and Hulu.
FOX WINTER 2020-2021 PREMIERE DATES RECAP (Times for All-New Episodes are ET/PT Except as Noted)
Sunday, Dec. 27: 8:00-9:00 PM ET/5:00-6:00 PM PT Live to all time zones THE MASKED DANCER (Series Premiere)
Sunday, Jan. 3: 8:00-8:30 PM CALL ME KAT (Series Premiere) 8:30-9:00 PM LAST MAN STANDING (Final Season Premiere) 9:00-9:30 PM THE SIMPSONS (Special Time) 9:30-10:00 PM BLESS THE HARTS (Special Time)
Wednesday, Jan. 6 8:00-9:00 PM THE MASKED DANCER (Time Period Premiere)
Thursdays, beginning Jan. 7: 8:00-9:00 PM HELL'S KITCHEN (Season Premiere) 9:00-9:30 PM CALL ME KAT (Time Period Premiere) 9:30-10:00 PM LAST MAN STANDING (Time Period Premiere)
Tuesdays, beginning Jan. 12: 8:00-9:00 PM THE RESIDENT (Season Premiere) 9:00-10:00 PM PRODIGAL SON (Season Premiere)
Mondays, beginning Jan. 18: 8:00-9:00 PM 9-1-1 (Season Premiere) 9:00-10:00 PM 9-1-1: LONE STAR (Season Premiere)
[EDITOR'S NOTE 1: Additional schedule details to be announced.]
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Video Journal 02/13/20 - Published 108
Hey, welcome to the Journal for Thursday, February 13th, 2020 “Published 108.”
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My name is Eric Leo, I’m a sociologist, social psychologist, philosopher, author, and hip-hop artist and this is my journal where I talk about myself and my philosophy!
108 Book
I published my book. I have received copies and everything looks good. You can buy “108 The Story of Discovering Earth’s Consciousness” online through my publisher at Author House. Thank you for your support. I wish I had money to invest in promoting it but I don’t. I’m going to try and send some copies to select people and promote it to other blogs.
Moving, Diet, and Exercise
I moved into my own apartment at the beginning of January. I am much happier. My mother helped me get settled, afford basic necessities, and some work out equipment. She bought me a Bowflex 5.1 work-out bench and 552 series select-tech dumbbells. I work out 4-5 days per week.
On February 12th I weighed 242.4 pounds, so I’ve lost about 8 pounds since December 30th, 2019 when I weighed 250 pounds. I’ve lost less weight than I expected but I’ve been working out so I’ve probably been gaining muscle and muscle weighs more than fat. I just started taking measurements of my chest, stomach, and butt to make sure I’m making progress. I know I’ve been making progress because my pants fit better.
I started biking on my budget Peloton. I started out at 10 minutes per day and it was hard. I increased it by 5 minutes every week. Now I’m up to 30 minutes on the bike on days I work out. I put on a playlist of the late shows from the previous night and watch them while I ride. I have a pretty good system down. It keeps me motivated and gives me structure but is also why I don’t work out on Sundays and Mondays because there was no late show the previous night. I’ve been drinking my GFuel every morning as a pre-workout.
After I get done with the bike I do a muscle group of weight lifting like chest, back, shoulders, legs, or arms. I’ve been keeping myself sore. I had an issue with my right arm feeling pain but I stretched my peck and got a check-up at physical therapy and all has been well. All systems are a go.
I used to exercise like crazy in high school and college and was, what most would consider, ripped. I still have a lot of the muscle underneath all my fat and I plan to get back to being ripped. I hope to get a chin-up bar and gravity boots to do pull-ups and inverted sit-ups after I get below 200 lbs… like I also used to do back in the day.
I’m on Atkins or a ketogenic diet, it has been a lot better for my acid reflux. I keep a calorie deficit on my diet while staying in ketosis. I’ll cheat with carbs every other weekend. I try not to cheat on calories. I don’t count calories like I used too back in 2017 although I guestimate often. I probably get around 1000-1500 calories per day, burn 3-500 calories working out with 50-60 grams of protein, which I understand is less protein than recommended. My biggest concern is getting enough protein for my workouts and to maintain muscle mass as I lose weight. I stay in ketosis so my body burns fat and not muscle. I do intermittent-fasting and only eat between 1 and 9 pm, usually. I eat a lot of nuts, cheese, pickles, greens, carrots, protein powder, eggs, chicken, and diet pop.
Stem Cells
I recently saw Joe Rogan’s podcast #1066 about stem cells. I didn’t know it could be used to cure autoimmune diseases. I also didn’t know it could be used to regrow tissue like in tendons.
I personally got excited when I heard about the capabilities of stem cells. In 2010 I had a scope on my knee for a multi-lateral meniscus tear. It hurts most days by the end of the day. So I looked into getting an injection of my stem cells to regrow my meniscus and it’s not covered by medicare because it’s not yet approved by the FDA. I can’t afford the 5-7 thousand dollars it would cost to get the procedure. I’m disappointed in America but hope it will be approved and available within the next couple of years.
Living On Disability
I look forward to having a conversation with the nurses that work at St. Joseph Community Mental Health when I get my shot each month. I still don’t have Hulu, I can’t afford it yet. I plan on canceling my audible subscription this month to save some money. They’ll pull me back in eventually with another free trial like they always do.
My credit score dropped 12 points from 807 to 795 since December 20th, 2019 because I have a couple of hundred dollars on my credit card after buying that GFuel, audio interface, and moving expenses. Like I explored in the last journal when you only live on several hundred dollars a month and can’t make much extra money it’s hard to afford much. I have been utilizing the local food bank to save money on groceries. I’m on a spending freeze until I get it paid off. I’m focused on paying off the balance. This means spending little to no money on gas. I really want my credit score above 800 again.
I can’t smoke weed in my apartment without being evicted so I’ve basically quit after years of daily smoking. I only smoke with friends away from my apartment now; usually about every other weekend. Apparently, I can have a cat if I want one though.
Make America Think Harder
I want to vote for Bernie Sanders as long as he wins the primary and it seems like he will. My second choice is tied for Yang or Warren but I would be happy with Buttigieg. I’m not a fan of Trump, although I respect the president, I will be voting for whatever Democrat wins the primary. Besides being with Emma Watson, there’s nothing I want more than Bernie to win the primary and election.
It’s worth mentioning I support term limits for congress and the supreme court. They should have to live with the laws they enact in the private and public sectors whichever they choose to pursue after their term. I also think they should be paid retirement wages from social security and have the same healthcare from social security just like everybody else. If they want to improve their standing while in office, they have to do it for everybody.
The last journal I said I wanted to be a professor. I am also thinking about being a real estate broker or agent, get my real estate license, and also build wealth through real estate investing. It will probably take me a year or two for me to get where I want to be health-wise and solidify what I want to do. Both being a professor or real estate guru has been an appealing career for me for a while. I would be happy with either or both and could still pursue being an author and hip-hop artist.
In Conclusion
Check out the Treatise and Journal Description List
Thank you for being here Thank you for watching, Thank you for being a part of my family You're awesome! I love you very much
#Published 108#book#published#stem cell therapy#BowFlex#Bernie Sanders#exercise#keto#ketogenic diet#atkins#losing weight
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Thunderstorms
It was a Friday; I was wearing a long white dress; there was a faded patch of fake tan on it from when I was rushing to get ready in time; I had long dark hair with super blonde ends; I was in my grandparent’s garden; I was surrounded by friends who I mostly don’t see anymore; there was a beer pong table set up: game after game. I was consumed with Smirnoff double blacks. My 16th birthday.
I waited around for people to arrive at my grandparents house on this Friday evening. They were so kind to allow me to host my birthday there, although I was paranoid about my drunk friends messing up my grandmother’s garden that she has poured her heart and soul into for most of her life. People slowly began to arrive and the night began like any other get together does: a game of King’s Cup that never seems to be that fun. It was due to be light for hours, those particular summer nights in February where the transition between light and dark continues for so long that you don’t even realise when it’s complete.
A wave of surprise, excitement and relief hit me all at once when my dear friend James walked into the garden from the deck - the entrance in and out of the house. Although he had clicked going on my event, I had messaged him two days earlier asking if he would be attending my birthday and he didn’t reply to me. We had a small argument over text one week prior. I knew - just by looking at him - all was forgotten. The argument was history, it was my birthday and James didn’t want to miss it. He was here and we were okay. We exchanged a hug and he sat down with me and the small group of my friends who were also here - about 5 of us in total. It was still early, the darkness was nowhere to be felt. Topics of discussion included his birthday (which was only the day before), he told us that he found full bottles of abandoned liquor and took them; he mentioned his new job at Topshop that was due to commence soon; we spoke for a moment about the recent loss of his beautiful boyfriend Matai; we played King’s Cup. James got the King card, he drank it all back - he was a professional.
The night grew, but it mostly grew into a big blur, as I find most nights do. By now, everyone had arrived. Photos were being taken; people were creeping off in miniature groups to smoke weed in deserted places; the music was playing off a portable speaker; James was smoking cigarettes. There weren’t many lights in the garden, so when nighttime finally spilled into the sky we had to move the beer pong table from the grass onto a slab of concrete by an outside light, so that the players could focus. James discussed how he was planning to move to Wellington. He seemed excited about this.
Time caught up to us and the night came to a close. I was sitting on a picnic table in the garden with my best friends, feeling anything but sober - but I was happy. James came up to us and asked if we wanted to stay the night. I don’t recall why it didn’t work out, but it was alright because he said he wanted to go home and see his older brother. We said we would see each other soon, we hugged goodbye.
After saying thank you and goodbye to my family, I left my own birthday at my grandparents house. Danielle, Fay, Fran and I all departed together, heading to the McDonalds drive through for an essential greasy feed, laughing and joking together the whole way back to Danielle’s as the date rolled from the 20th to the 21st.
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Vibrations woke us all up. I don’t know how, but I knew what had happened before my eyes even opened. All four of us were crammed in Danielle’s bed. We each awoke. Danielle climbed out of bed and reached to her phone, we missed the call.
“Shannon called me.”
This confirmed everything that I knew I already knew. Silence screamed. We all knew.
As Danielle texted James’ best friend Shannon, we huddled around Danielle’s phone together, riddled with dread.
“James is with Matai now.”
I screamed, mainly because I didn’t know how else to respond. Fran fell into quiet tears; Danielle ran to her mother; Fay left the room and called her family.
We didn’t know how to cry, because it wasn’t real. We had seen him just last night and he seemed happy. After the loss of Matai, James would cry out loud and scream and bleed his hurt and we could all see it. Last night I couldn’t see pain.
One of the most significant things I recall about the tragedy was the support from everybody that immediately poured in as people began to find out about James. People who did know James well, and people who didn’t know James well. Multiple messages from people trying to express their sincerest condolences flooded in just hours later. The words people sent felt see-through and false, I tried my hardest to show appreciation for everyone’s kind messages, but my replies just felt empty and strange no matter how hard I tried. I couldn’t process anything, I would send love hearts and sad faces but I didn’t feel any love or sadness, because I was numb. 17 years of age only by two short days and gone.
Shock is undoubtedly one of the most unexplainable and overwhelming emotions. It’s something you can acknowledge only in the moment of experiencing it, trying to recount exactly what it feels like simply isn’t possible. It’s like being in a dull dream. Not a nightmare because there’s too much emotion in nightmares; but a colourless and lengthly dream that you desperately want to wake up from, yet when you do, that same atmosphere stalks you all day.
Having to call our friends that morning and tell them the horrible news was burdensome; particularly because I couldn’t process it myself, let alone deliver the heartbreak to other friends who adored James. There was no easy way to say it, I just had to say it. I remember calling Annie and telling her, I could tell that my voice sounded so plain, but I still couldn’t cry real tears. Even when the words left my mouth and I heard it aloud for the first time, it still didn’t seem real. It felt like I was being told what to say and the words were just flowing out of my mouth, like a practiced routine.
On the day of the tragedy, we all stuck together and remained at Danielle’s house on Finnerty Avenue. Friends arrived with eyes full of tears, minds full of confusion and hearts full of sorrow. We all hugged and sat together, they brought mattresses with them so we could all be together for the whole night. James had only moved out of Danielle’s house a few weeks earlier. The house was still painted with memories of him, and it was painful.
I spent the night looking through James’ tumblr, surrounded by everybody. We were listening to James’s favourite songs, some of us were sitting on the floor of Danielle’s bedroom and some of us were crying. There was a post that read ‘I am weak and I am sorry’. It was written in the early AM, and it was the last post James made on his tumblr. I looked through photos of him and cried out loud, the first time tears had uncontrollably spilled from my eyes that devastating day. Fay, Mason and I slept in the same bed that night and fell asleep listening to Phoenix by A$AP Rocky and Idle by Spooky Black, silent tears trickling.
The morning after was so hard. The shock was alive yet James was not. I thought that he would message us or come over or be active online. I was just waiting for something - anything. Because it just couldn’t possibly be real, and know I keep saying that, but there’s truly no other way of describing how I was feeling.
Over the duration of the next few days I was surrounded by so many beautiful friends, all who were experiencing the same grief as each other. This made it slightly bearable. We were there for each other from the morning to the nighttime. We didn’t go to school, except for one day where we spent most of the time in the counsellor’s office colouring in. I saw my favourite teacher Miss Walsh who knew both James and Matai through her younger sister; she hugged me and asked me why I was even at school. The school granted us the week off.
We visited James’ parents often throughout the week and watched his mother’s heart shatter, she was in a world of pain and desperately wanted her baby boy back. We sat in James’s room and looked through his belongings, reminiscing and missing him. His phone was next to his bed with missed calls and messages and his Doc Martens were still in the middle of his bedroom from when he took them off last. We came across his suicide note in his journal, the final line reading “I’ll see you when you’re old and grey.”
We saw James a few days prior to the funeral. His casket was white and was placed in the lounge of the Taylor’s house, surrounded by flowers. It took us awhile to build up the courage to see our friend. We had each other though - so we were strong. We looked at him, cried to him, touched him, kissed him, spoke to him.
The funeral was held on the Thursday, and the night before Fay, Shannon and I stayed in James’ bedroom overnight. I wanted to be as close as possible to his spirit. I wanted to feel him around me, but I couldn’t.
The morning of the funeral I said goodbye to James’ physical being. I sat in the lounge alone and told him what I needed to tell him, and I hoped and prayed that he would hear me. James’ mother made green tea and pressed a drop onto his lips, crying.
I felt plastic throughout the whole funeral. I didn’t know how to express true emotion because it felt so fictional to me. After the service, I hugged Angela for awhile - a close friend of James’. People were lingering in the church and outside the hearse was getting ready to depart. I scrambled to get out of the door so I could place a flower on the coffin and say a final goodbye. I managed to do so but couldn’t see my friends anywhere. They were still inside, having conversations and stuck behind the cluster of people. I watched it drive away.
We drank wine and let off lanterns that night at Shannon’s house, two colourful flames that floated into the sea of stars. We wrote messages to both James and Matai, expressing that we were deeply devastated that two of the most amazing people we had all ever met were no longer with us, and we questioned how we could possibly go on without aching from how much we love and miss them. We also told them that we were at a sense of peace knowing they would be reunited again. The lanterns cooperated beautifully and side by side, rose into the night sky. We stood together and Mason yelled out “We love you James” to the lanterns, then we all started yelling too. We watched and watched and watched, until the flames flickered away into the horizon, never to be seen again.
Eventually, the messages and visits stopped, the school was no longer granting us excusable time off, time was progressing and James still was not here. People were living their lives normally again. The shock slowly wore off and welcomed grief instead, and it was real now. Our friend group expanded and continued to stick together, remembering our beautiful friends who left us too soon. We supported one another at all times whenever we needed it, it is still needed to this day.
I had so many regrets and unanswered questions for so long, I always will. What if we had stayed with James that night? Did he plan all along to do it that particular night? Did I say the right thing at his funeral? Is he mad that I didn’t cry when I spoke at his service? Is he mad at me for any other things I’ve said or done? Was I a bad friend to him? Does he know how much I love him, and does he love me back? Is he safe?
For so long I felt as if the only way I could reach out to James was through social media, because if I spoke out loud he might not hear me, and it wasn’t enough to just keep him in my thoughts, he needed to know. I wrote about him on the bathroom wall at school. People would write horrible anonymous jokes about him on Yik Yak, I would respond and get angry. One day we were all at Danielle’s house, and Fran was crying because someone wrote on the ridiculous anonymous app that I posted pictures of James for attention. So I cried too, because I didn’t want to be viewed that way, I just didn’t know how else to express my sorrow.
Time is a saviour but it’s also an enemy too. I think about James all the time and the same regrets are still tucked away in my soul; but I no longer cry whenever I think about him, and I don’t beat myself up over what I did or didn’t do. I was so afraid of getting used to it because I didn’t want to forget. I look at the last messages I sent to James on Facebook when I asked if he was coming to my birthday and they haven’t delivered, they used to say seen. It’s been too long.
I reminisce on times we shared. I need to remember everything. Back when we were 13 and 14 years old and shopping in Auckland City op shops seeking out the most indie looking clothes we could secure; the nights where Danielle and James lived in the little house on Clovelly Road; the weekend Danielle and James moved into Finnerty Avenue and Fay, Fran and I helped them move, we had no wifi for two days so we christened the house by smoking and laughing, James had a cigarette in one hand and a joint in the other; the melancholy I felt through the grip of James’ hand as he clutched mine on the way to Matai’s funeral. I try to remember every single memory I’ve shared with James, but it’s not enough. No amount of time spent with him would have ever been enough.
The death of my special friend James brought myself and my friends some severely dark times, each of us were fighting a battle for so long, and the battle scars are still carved into us, where they will stay forever. The strength and determination to carry on that I witnessed from my wonderful friends was beyond admirable, I love them with all my heart. Although this cloud is more of a thunderstorm, the silver lining is contemporary; I learnt about the importance of caring for others and what they are going through, the need to tell your friends just how much you love them, and to always be prepared for life’s endless and unforeseen possibilities. I will never stop missing James, but I know I’ll see him again when I’m old and grey; and his hands will still be soft, his hair will still replicate perfection and his eyes will still be big, dark and beautiful.
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What does “Rural Metro DC Area” even mean?
The latest in the on-going correspondence between Marianne Willburn and Scott Beuerlein.
6 March 2020
Lovettsville, VA
Dear Scott,
I am grateful to digital correspondence in that I cannot catch one of the diseases currently incubating in the Petri dish that is your part of Ohio by opening a slightly smudged and suspect envelope. I wish you both healing – and broth. And my very best to your mother as she recuperates too.
My former Marine chuckled grimly when I read to him your description of us living rurally within the benevolent outer rings of D.C. How right you are – how beautifully you put it, and how sad for the country that the wealthiest counties in the U.S. cluster around the warm teat that is Washington D.C.
A bonus of living within that benevolent outer ring – the National Cherry Blossom Festival in a few short weeks. This year March 20th – April 12th.
For our part I will plead only that we live in the far northwest and often forgotten corner of one of those counties, where side roads are graveled and children ride on bicycles without helmets in the evening. There are generational farms and farmers here, and though it is true that many are turning their hands to the lucrative temptations of artisanal goat cheese and picnic baskets for wine tasting 30-somethings, it is a rural community for now. Our internet data is delivered by horse and wagon.
Every Thursday.
Our washed-out road in the spring.
Still, change is coming. Two of our neighbors are only here on the weekends, and when I met one of the newly ensconced last autumn, she needed a moment to process the fact that we lived here full-time.
Later at a gathering in their tastefully renovated farmhouse (redundant), Michael and I brought down the tone somewhat by joking over the dangers of felling trees on our own – much like you did last month – and about how a death and dismemberment policy on Michael had opened up new opportunities for risk and reward.
There was a Bethesda psychologist in the company. We haven’t been invited back.
We were kids in Northern California in the eighties, and watch this slow urban creep with not a little worry. No matter how large our compost pile, and how ancient and dirty our automobiles, we know that we are part of the very thing we fear.
My grandfather lost his soon-to-be-Silicon-Valley San Jose farm to skyrocketing taxes; and I remember as a child (during a roadtrip into the city) having my mother point at two incongruously planted palm trees in the middle of three levels of freeway flyovers. “Those were right outside our front door.” she said, and then muttered something her children were not used to hearing her mutter.
Though you make such a brilliant case in your letter for selling everything and moving with great haste to the English-grey, Corona-virus-saturated suburban wasteland that is apparently the greater Cincinnati area, twenty years in the Mid-Atlantic has convinced me of two things: I don’t wish to live anywhere colder, or more humid.
Once upon a time, I didn’t know what an ice storm was.
When the tax assessor finally decides that we have rented this lovely piece of land long enough and must vacate it for the second home ambitions of Capitol Hill consultants and their beautifully groomed labradoodles, I fantasize of once again flexing my gardening fingers in a Mediterranean climate – this time in the Mediterranean. The recent Philadelphia Flower Show with its Riviera Holiday theme has only strengthened those fantasies (of the gardening climate, not the Monaco glitz).
They had me at Vespa.
However, I do share your love of moss walks – mossy anything really – and such lushness will not be feasible further south in San Marco, no matter how many young, powerfully-built Italian gardeners I put on the job or how many glasses of Prosecco I sip whilst watching them try.
I too have been underwater with Powerpoints, articles and book deadlines, but there is nothing like unrelenting pressure to make the cold months fly by. At a recent symposium I was introduced by a cheerful, funny woman who started the proceedings by announcing there were only a few days left of winter. The crowd cheered. I started to sweat blood. There is simply too much work out there and too few hours left in which to do it.
The beginning of a woodland garden. In that I have decided it will be a woodland garden. Someday.
As you and I are rapidly hurtling toward that part of our lives where we attempt to outdo each other with health issues, I will say that a recent high-speed car accident in Miami (not as exciting as it might sound), has made those tasks Herculean.
I have no chance of finishing all the clearing in the woodland garden before there are bluebells to be trampled in the doing of it. In all truthfulness, and with apologies to Michele, the sight of your mighty brush pile filled me with longing.
I have given up the clearing for now and am instead, observing. What a glorious thing to realize that I could finally see a small patch of snowdrops and eranthis from a hundred yards away this February! Perhaps all the digging and dividing with hands numb from the cold has, and will be, worth it in the end.
A slow, but hopeful start. Snowdrops and eranthis.
The witchhazels have been blooming well, and though small, I can see them in my mind’s eye at three times their size. I am also thrilled to find that the violent butchery I performed upon my hellebores at the end of last March (both the posh niger hybrids and the not-so-posh-but-adored orientalis downfacers), has resulted in healthy, blooming, divisions. I expected they would sulk for longer.
H. orientalis looking remarkably happy after the night of the long [serrated] knifes last March. Please note sticks and dead leaves signifying journalistic integrity.
I have interplanted one patch with ‘Rapture’ daffodils on the always sage advice of Brent Heath – as it is a partially shaded site, and evidently the cyclamen types can cope best with such things. A few seasons observing their vigor will tell.
Speaking of cyclamen – I have launched into a profligate romance with C. coum and C. hederifolium after too long seeing them in other people’s gardens and a recent first visit to Gettysburg Gardens in Pennsylvania. All those years of trucking visiting relatives up to the battlefield and eating KFC on a blanket and I could have left them to their mashed potatoes and monuments and shopped for plants!
Cyclamen coum at Gettysburg Gardens in February.
Perhaps it’s for the best, seeing as I also picked up some budding Scilla peruviana with the delusional intention of clearing my entire sunny hillside around it. The bulbs are blooming now on the windowsill, oblivious to the 6b/7 stream valley fate in store for them.
Bloom now little one. Bloom while you can.
I am reminded of Beth Chatto’s line – “We lost many plants in our impatience to possess them because we had not achieved the proper growing conditions.”
Guilty.
So. Damned. Guilty.
I trust you remember St. Beth, and have reconsidered your harsh words of last July.
Thanks for the visual reminder that I need to cut back the epimedium foliage before I have to use floral snips instead of a weed whacker. I will put E. stellatum on my list if the foliage looks that good in your Midwestern February. Have you tried the gorgeous hybrid ‘Amber Queen,’ or are you species purists out there? Walters Gardens & Saunders Bros. have it for those wielding the buying power of the Cincinnati Zoo. For the rest of us there is always Plant Delights and a home equity loan.
So worth it. Flowers you could pull up a chair and a drink for.
Heal quickly – for Michele’s sake. Men are such babies about the flu.
Yours in journalistic integrity,
Marianne
P.S. Rethink the chamaecyparis. It looks in need of something you won’t give it – an easy death. The skinny exclamation point of Juniperus virginiana ‘Taylor’ perhaps? I am saving my pennies for one of my own – or three.
What does “Rural Metro DC Area” even mean? originally appeared on GardenRant on March 5, 2020.
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What does “Rural Metro DC Area” even mean?
The latest in the on-going correspondence between Marianne Willburn and Scott Beuerlein.
6 March 2020
Lovettsville, VA
Dear Scott,
I am grateful to digital correspondence in that I cannot catch one of the diseases currently incubating in the Petri dish that is your part of Ohio by opening a slightly smudged and suspect envelope. I wish you both healing – and broth. And my very best to your mother as she recuperates too.
My former Marine chuckled grimly when I read to him your description of us living rurally within the benevolent outer rings of D.C. How right you are – how beautifully you put it, and how sad for the country that the wealthiest counties in the U.S. cluster around the warm teat that is Washington D.C.
A bonus of living within that benevolent outer ring – the National Cherry Blossom Festival in a few short weeks. This year March 20th – April 12th.
For our part I will plead only that we live in the far northwest and often forgotten corner of one of those counties, where side roads are graveled and children ride on bicycles without helmets in the evening. There are generational farms and farmers here, and though it is true that many are turning their hands to the lucrative temptations of artisanal goat cheese and picnic baskets for wine tasting 30-somethings, it is a rural community for now. Our internet data is delivered by horse and wagon.
Every Thursday.
Our washed-out road in the spring.
Still, change is coming. Two of our neighbors are only here on the weekends, and when I met one of the newly ensconced last autumn, she needed a moment to process the fact that we lived here full-time.
Later at a gathering in their tastefully renovated farmhouse (redundant), Michael and I brought down the tone somewhat by joking over the dangers of felling trees on our own – much like you did last month – and about how a death and dismemberment policy on Michael had opened up new opportunities for risk and reward.
There was a Bethesda psychologist in the company. We haven’t been invited back.
We were kids in Northern California in the eighties, and watch this slow urban creep with not a little worry. No matter how large our compost pile, and how ancient and dirty our automobiles, we know that we are part of the very thing we fear.
My grandfather lost his soon-to-be-Silicon-Valley San Jose farm to skyrocketing taxes; and I remember as a child (during a roadtrip into the city) having my mother point at two incongruously planted palm trees in the middle of three levels of freeway flyovers. “Those were right outside our front door.” she said, and then muttered something her children were not used to hearing her mutter.
Though you make such a brilliant case in your letter for selling everything and moving with great haste to the English-grey, Corona-virus-saturated suburban wasteland that is apparently the greater Cincinnati area, twenty years in the Mid-Atlantic has convinced me of two things: I don’t wish to live anywhere colder, or more humid.
Once upon a time, I didn’t know what an ice storm was.
When the tax assessor finally decides that we have rented this lovely piece of land long enough and must vacate it for the second home ambitions of Capitol Hill consultants and their beautifully groomed labradoodles, I fantasize of once again flexing my gardening fingers in a Mediterranean climate – this time in the Mediterranean. The recent Philadelphia Flower Show with its Riviera Holiday theme has only strengthened those fantasies (of the gardening climate, not the Monaco glitz).
They had me at Vespa.
However, I do share your love of moss walks – mossy anything really – and such lushness will not be feasible further south in San Marco, no matter how many young, powerfully-built Italian gardeners I put on the job or how many glasses of Prosecco I sip whilst watching them try.
I too have been underwater with Powerpoints, articles and book deadlines, but there is nothing like unrelenting pressure to make the cold months fly by. At a recent symposium I was introduced by a cheerful, funny woman who started the proceedings by announcing there were only a few days left of winter. The crowd cheered. I started to sweat blood. There is simply too much work out there and too few hours left in which to do it.
The beginning of a woodland garden. In that I have decided it will be a woodland garden. Someday.
As you and I are rapidly hurtling toward that part of our lives where we attempt to outdo each other with health issues, I will say that a recent high-speed car accident in Miami (not as exciting as it might sound), has made those tasks Herculean.
I have no chance of finishing all the clearing in the woodland garden before there are bluebells to be trampled in the doing of it. In all truthfulness, and with apologies to Michele, the sight of your mighty brush pile filled me with longing.
I have given up the clearing for now and am instead, observing. What a glorious thing to realize that I could finally see a small patch of snowdrops and eranthis from a hundred yards away this February! Perhaps all the digging and dividing with hands numb from the cold has, and will be, worth it in the end.
A slow, but hopeful start. Snowdrops and eranthis.
The witchhazels have been blooming well, and though small, I can see them in my mind’s eye at three times their size. I am also thrilled to find that the violent butchery I performed upon my hellebores at the end of last March (both the posh niger hybrids and the not-so-posh-but-adored orientalis downfacers), has resulted in healthy, blooming, divisions. I expected they would sulk for longer.
H. orientalis looking remarkably happy after the night of the long [serrated] knifes last March. Please note sticks and dead leaves signifying journalistic integrity.
I have interplanted one patch with ‘Rapture’ daffodils on the always sage advice of Brent Heath – as it is a partially shaded site, and evidently the cyclamen types can cope best with such things. A few seasons observing their vigor will tell.
Speaking of cyclamen – I have launched into a profligate romance with C. coum and C. hederifolium after too long seeing them in other people’s gardens and a recent first visit to Gettysburg Gardens in Pennsylvania. All those years of trucking visiting relatives up to the battlefield and eating KFC on a blanket and I could have left them to their mashed potatoes and monuments and shopped for plants!
Cyclamen coum at Gettysburg Gardens in February.
Perhaps it’s for the best, seeing as I also picked up some budding Scilla peruviana with the delusional intention of clearing my entire sunny hillside around it. The bulbs are blooming now on the windowsill, oblivious to the 6b/7 stream valley fate in store for them.
Bloom now little one. Bloom while you can.
I am reminded of Beth Chatto’s line – “We lost many plants in our impatience to possess them because we had not achieved the proper growing conditions.”
Guilty.
So. Damned. Guilty.
I trust you remember St. Beth, and have reconsidered your harsh words of last July.
Thanks for the visual reminder that I need to cut back the epimedium foliage before I have to use floral snips instead of a weed whacker. I will put E. stellatum on my list if the foliage looks that good in your Midwestern February. Have you tried the gorgeous hybrid ‘Amber Queen,’ or are you species purists out there? Walters Gardens & Saunders Bros. have it for those wielding the buying power of the Cincinnati Zoo. For the rest of us there is always Plant Delights and a home equity loan.
So worth it. Flowers you could pull up a chair and a drink for.
Heal quickly – for Michele’s sake. Men are such babies about the flu.
Yours in journalistic integrity,
Marianne
P.S. Rethink the chamaecyparis. It looks in need of something you won’t give it – an easy death. The skinny exclamation point of Juniperus virginiana ‘Taylor’ perhaps? I am saving my pennies for one of my own – or three.
What does “Rural Metro DC Area” even mean? originally appeared on GardenRant on March 5, 2020.
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Thunderstorms (written in August, 2017)
It was a Friday; I was wearing a long white dress; there was a faded patch of fake tan on it from when I was rushing to get ready in time; I had long dark hair with super blonde ends; I was in my grandparent’s garden; I was surrounded by friends who I mostly don’t see anymore; there was a beer pong table set up: game after game. I was consumed with Smirnoff double blacks. My 16th birthday.
I waited around for people to arrive at my grandparents house on this Friday evening. They were so kind to allow me to host my birthday there, although I was paranoid about my drunk friends messing up my grandmother’s garden that she has poured her heart and soul into for most of her life. People slowly began to arrive and the night began like any other get together does: a game of King’s Cup that never seems to be that fun. It was due to be light for hours, those particular summer nights in February where the transition between light and dark continues for so long that you don’t even realise when it’s complete.
A wave of surprise, excitement and relief hit me all at once when my dear friend James walked into the garden from the deck – the entrance in and out of the house. Although he had clicked going on my event, I had messaged him two days earlier asking if he would be attending my birthday and he didn’t reply to me. We had a small argument over text one week prior. I knew – just by looking at him – all was forgotten. The argument was history, it was my birthday and James didn’t want to miss it. He was here and we were okay. We exchanged a hug and he sat down with me and the small group of my friends who were also here – about 5 of us in total. It was still early, the darkness was nowhere to be felt. Topics of discussion included his birthday (which was only the day before), he told us that he found full bottles of abandoned liquor and took them; he mentioned his new job at Topshop that was due to commence soon; we spoke for a moment about the recent loss of his beautiful boyfriend Matai; we played King’s Cup. James got the King card, he drank it all back – he was a professional.
The night grew, but it mostly grew into a big blur, as I find most nights do. By now, everyone had arrived. Photos were being taken; people were creeping off in miniature groups to smoke weed in deserted places; the music was playing off a portable speaker; James was smoking cigarettes. There weren’t many lights in the garden, so when nighttime finally spilled into the sky we had to move the beer pong table from the grass onto a slab of concrete by an outside light, so that the players could focus. James discussed how he was planning to move to Wellington. He seemed excited about this.
Time caught up to us and the night came to a close. I was sitting on a picnic table in the garden with my best friends, feeling anything but sober – but I was happy. James came up to us and asked if we wanted to stay the night. I don’t recall why it didn’t work out, but it was alright because he said he wanted to go home and see his older brother. We said we would see each other soon, we hugged goodbye.
After saying thank you and goodbye to my family, I left my own birthday at my grandparents house. Danielle, Fay, Fran and I all departed together, heading to the McDonalds drive through for an essential greasy feed, laughing and joking together the whole way back to Danielle’s as the date rolled from the 20th to the 21st.
–
Vibrations woke us all up. I don’t know how, but I knew what had happened before my eyes even opened. All four of us were crammed in Danielle’s bed. We each awoke. Danielle climbed out of bed and reached to her phone, we missed the call.
“Shannon called me.”
This confirmed everything that I knew I already knew. Silence screamed. We all knew.
As Danielle texted James’ best friend Shannon, we huddled around Danielle’s phone together, riddled with dread.
“James is with Matai now.”
I screamed, mainly because I didn’t know how else to respond. Fran fell into quiet tears; Danielle ran to her mother; Fay left the room and called her family.
We didn’t know how to cry, because it wasn’t real. We had seen him just last night and he seemed happy. After the loss of Matai, James would cry out loud and scream and bleed his hurt and we could all see it. Last night I couldn’t see pain.
One of the most significant things I recall about the tragedy was the support from everybody that immediately poured in as people began to find out about James. People who did know James well, and people who didn’t know James well. Multiple messages from people trying to express their sincerest condolences flooded in just hours later. The words people sent felt see-through and false, I tried my hardest to show appreciation for everyone’s kind messages, but my replies just felt empty and strange no matter how hard I tried. I couldn’t process anything, I would send love hearts and sad faces but I didn’t feel any love or sadness, because I was numb. 17 years of age only by two short days and gone.
Shock is undoubtedly one of the most unexplainable and overwhelming emotions. It’s something you can acknowledge only in the moment of experiencing it, trying to recount exactly what it feels like simply isn’t possible. It’s like being in a dull dream. Not a nightmare because there’s too much emotion in nightmares; but a colourless and lengthly dream that you desperately want to wake up from, yet when you do, that same atmosphere stalks you all day.
Having to call our friends that morning and tell them the horrible news was burdensome; particularly because I couldn’t process it myself, let alone deliver the heartbreak to other friends who adored James. There was no easy way to say it, I just had to say it. I remember calling Annie and telling her, I could tell that my voice sounded so plain, but I still couldn’t cry real tears. Even when the words left my mouth and I heard it aloud for the first time, it still didn’t seem real. It felt like I was being told what to say and the words were just flowing out of my mouth, like a practiced routine.
On the day of the tragedy, we all stuck together and remained at Danielle’s house on Finnerty Avenue. Friends arrived with eyes full of tears, minds full of confusion and hearts full of sorrow. We all hugged and sat together, they brought mattresses with them so we could all be together for the whole night. James had only moved out of Danielle’s house a few weeks earlier. The house was still painted with memories of him, and it was painful.
I spent the night looking through James’ tumblr, surrounded by everybody. We were listening to James’s favourite songs, some of us were sitting on the floor of Danielle’s bedroom and some of us were crying. There was a post that read ‘I am weak and I am sorry’. It was written in the early AM, and it was the last post James made on his tumblr. I looked through photos of him and cried out loud, the first time tears had uncontrollably spilled from my eyes that devastating day. Fay, Mason and I slept in the same bed that night and fell asleep listening to Phoenix by A$AP Rocky and Idle by Spooky Black, silent tears trickling.
The morning after was so hard. The shock was alive yet James was not. I thought that he would message us or come over or be active online. I was just waiting for something – anything. Because it just couldn’t possibly be real, and know I keep saying that, but there’s truly no other way of describing how I was feeling.
Over the duration of the next few days I was surrounded by so many beautiful friends, all who were experiencing the same grief as each other. This made it slightly bearable. We were there for each other from the morning to the nighttime. We didn’t go to school, except for one day where we spent most of the time in the counsellor’s office colouring in. I saw my favourite teacher Miss Walsh who knew both James and Matai through her younger sister; she hugged me and asked me why I was even at school. The school granted us the week off.
We visited James’ parents often throughout the week and watched his mother’s heart shatter, she was in a world of pain and desperately wanted her baby boy back. We sat in James’s room and looked through his belongings, reminiscing and missing him. His phone was next to his bed with missed calls and messages and his Doc Martens were still in the middle of his bedroom from when he took them off last. We came across his suicide note in his journal, the final line reading “I’ll see you when you’re old and grey.”
We saw James a few days prior to the funeral. His casket was white and was placed in the lounge of the Taylor’s house, surrounded by flowers. It took us awhile to build up the courage to see our friend. We had each other though – so we were strong. We looked at him, cried to him, touched him, kissed him, spoke to him.
The funeral was held on the Thursday, and the night before Fay, Shannon and I stayed in James’ bedroom overnight. I wanted to be as close as possible to his spirit. I wanted to feel him around me, but I couldn’t.
The morning of the funeral I said goodbye to James’ physical being. I sat in the lounge alone and told him what I needed to tell him, and I hoped and prayed that he would hear me. James’ mother made green tea and pressed a drop onto his lips, crying.
I felt plastic throughout the whole funeral. I didn’t know how to express true emotion because it felt so fictional to me. After the service, I hugged Angela for awhile – a close friend of James’. People were lingering in the church and outside the hearse was getting ready to depart. I scrambled to get out of the door so I could place a flower on the coffin and say a final goodbye. I managed to do so but couldn’t see my friends anywhere. They were still inside, having conversations and stuck behind the cluster of people. I watched it drive away.
We drank wine and let off lanterns that night at Shannon’s house, two colourful flames that floated into the sea of stars. We wrote messages to both James and Matai, expressing that we were deeply devastated that two of the most amazing people we had all ever met were no longer with us, and we questioned how we could possibly go on without aching from how much we love and miss them. We also told them that we were at a sense of peace knowing they would be reunited again. The lanterns cooperated beautifully and side by side, rose into the night sky. We stood together and Mason yelled out “We love you James” to the lanterns, then we all started yelling too. We watched and watched and watched, until the flames flickered away into the horizon, never to be seen again.
Eventually, the messages and visits stopped, the school was no longer granting us excusable time off, time was progressing and James still was not here. People were living their lives normally again. The shock slowly wore off and welcomed grief instead, and it was real now. Our friend group expanded and continued to stick together, remembering our beautiful friends who left us too soon. We supported one another at all times whenever we needed it, it is still needed to this day.
I had so many regrets and unanswered questions for so long, I always will. What if we had stayed with James that night? Did he plan all along to do it that particular night? Did I say the right thing at his funeral? Is he mad that I didn’t cry when I spoke at his service? Is he mad at me for any other things I’ve said or done? Was I a bad friend to him? Does he know how much I love him, and does he love me back? Is he safe?
For so long I felt as if the only way I could reach out to James was through social media, because if I spoke out loud he might not hear me, and it wasn’t enough to just keep him in my thoughts, he needed to know. I wrote about him on the bathroom wall at school. People would write horrible anonymous jokes about him on Yik Yak, I would respond and get angry. One day we were all at Danielle’s house, and Fran was crying because someone wrote on the ridiculous anonymous app that I posted pictures of James for attention. So I cried too, because I didn’t want to be viewed that way, I just didn’t know how else to express my sorrow.
Time is a saviour but it’s also an enemy too. I think about James all the time and the same regrets are still tucked away in my soul; but I no longer cry whenever I think about him, and I don’t beat myself up over what I did or didn’t do. I was so afraid of getting used to it because I didn’t want to forget. I look at the last messages I sent to James on Facebook when I asked if he was coming to my birthday and they haven’t delivered, they used to say seen. It’s been too long.
I reminisce on times we shared. I need to remember everything. Back when we were 13 and 14 years old and shopping in Auckland City op shops seeking out the most indie looking clothes we could secure; the nights where Danielle and James lived in the little house on Clovelly Road; the weekend Danielle and James moved into Finnerty Avenue and Fay, Fran and I helped them move, we had no wifi for two days so we christened the house by smoking and laughing, James had a cigarette in one hand and a joint in the other; the melancholy I felt through the grip of James’ hand as he clutched mine on the way to Matai’s funeral. I try to remember every single memory I’ve shared with James, but it’s not enough. No amount of time spent with him would have ever been enough.
The death of my special friend James brought myself and my friends some severely dark times, each of us were fighting a battle for so long, and the battle scars are still carved into us, where they will stay forever. The strength and determination to carry on that I witnessed from my wonderful friends was beyond admirable, I love them with all my heart. Although this cloud is more of a thunderstorm, the silver lining is contemporary; I learnt about the importance of caring for others and what they are going through, the need to tell your friends just how much you love them, and to always be prepared for life’s endless and unforeseen possibilities. I will never stop missing James, but I know I’ll see him again when I’m old and grey; and his hands will still be soft, his hair will still replicate perfection and his eyes will still be big, dark and beautiful.
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