#but there was a solid foundation beneath our feet. We still supported each other

[quoththemaiden]

But maybe it’s just societal weight, or ingrained culture, or something, but it was different after. The way I described it at the time, and I’ve never really come up with a better metaphor is, “It’s like we were both holding onto each other in the middle of the ocean in the middle of a storm. We were keeping each other above water, we were each other’s support. But then we got this piece of paper. And it was like the ground rose up to meet our feet. We were still in an ocean, still in the middle of a storm, but there was a solid foundation beneath our feet. We still supported each other, but there was this other thing that was also keeping our heads above the water.”

Twenty years ago, February 15th, 2004, I got married for the first time.

It was twenty years earlier than I ever expected to.

To celebrate/comemorate the date, I'm sitting down to write out everything I remember as I remember it. No checking all the pictures I took or all the times I've written about this before. I'm not going to turn to my husband (of twenty years, how the f'ing hell) to remember a detail for me.

This is not a 100% accurate recounting of that first wild weekend in San Francisco. But it -is- a 100% accurate recounting of how I remember it today, twenty years after the fact.

Join me below, if you would.

2004 was an election year, and much like conservatives are whipping up anti-trans hysteria and anti-trans bills and propositions to drive out the vote today, in 2004 it was all anti-gay stuff. Specifically, preventing the evil scourge of same-sex marriage from destroying everything good and decent in the world.

Enter Gavin Newstrom. At the time, he was the newly elected mayor of San Francisco. Despite living next door to the city all my life, I hadn’t even heard of the man until Valentines Day 2004 when he announced that gay marriage was legal in San Francisco and started marrying people at city hall.

It was a political stunt. It was very obviously a political stunt. That shit was illegal, after all. But it was a very sweet political stunt. I still remember the front page photo of two ancient women hugging each other forehead to forehead and crying happy tears.

But it was only going to last for as long as it took for the California legal system to come in and make them knock it off.

The next day, we’re on the phone with an acquaintance, and she casually mentions that she’s surprised the two of us aren’t up at San Francisco getting married with everyone else.

“Everyone else?” Goes I, “I thought they would’ve shut that down already?”

“Oh no!” goes she, “The courts aren’t open until Tuesday. Presidents Day on Monday and all. They’re doing them all weekend long!”

We didn’t know because social media wasn’t a thing yet. I only knew as much about it as I’d read on CNN, and most of the blogs I was following were more focused on what bullshit President George W Bush was up to that day.

"Well shit", me and my man go, "do you wanna?" I mean, it’s a political stunt, it wont really mean anything, but we’re not going to get another chance like this for at least 20 years. Why not?

The next day, Sunday, we get up early. We drive north to the southern-most BART station. We load onto Bay Area Rapid Transit, and rattle back and forth all the way to the San Francisco City Hall stop.

We had slightly miscalculated.

Apparently, demand for marriages was far outstripping the staff they had on hand to process them. Who knew. Everyone who’d gotten turned away Saturday had been given tickets with times to show up Sunday to get their marriages done. My babe and I, we could either wait to see if there was a space that opened up, or come back the next day, Monday.

“Isn’t City Hall closed on Monday?” I asked. “It’s a holiday”

“Oh sure,” they reply, “but people are allowed to volunteer their time to come in and work on stuff anyways. And we have a lot of people who want to volunteer their time to have the marriage licensing offices open tomorrow.”

“Oh cool,” we go, “Backup.”

“Make sure you’re here if you do,” they say, “because the California Supreme Court is back in session Tuesday, and will be reviewing the motion that got filed to shut us down.”

And all this shit is super not-legal, so they’ll totally be shutting us down goes unsaid.

00000

We don’t get in Saturday. We wind up hanging out most of the day, though.

It’s… incredible. I can say, without hyperbole, that I have never experienced so much concentrated joy and happiness and celebration of others’ joy and happiness in all my life before or since. My face literally ached from grinning. Every other minute, a new couple was coming out of City Hall, waving their paperwork to the crowd and cheering and leaping and skipping. Two glorious Latina women in full Mariachi band outfits came out, one in the arms of another. A pair of Jewish boys with their families and Rabbi. One couple managed to get a Just Married convertible arranged complete with tin-cans tied to the bumper to drive off in. More than once I was giving some rice to throw at whoever was coming out next.

At some point in the mid-afternoon, there was a sudden wave of extra cheering from the several hundred of us gathered at the steps, even though no one was coming out. There was a group going up the steps to head inside, with some generic black-haired shiny guy at the front. My not-yet-husband nudged me, “That’s Newsom.” He said, because he knew I was hopeless about matching names and people.

Ooooooh, I go. That explains it. Then I joined in the cheers. He waved and ducked inside.

So dusk is starting to fall. It’s February, so it’s only six or so, but it’s getting dark.

“Should we just try getting in line for tomorrow -now-?” we ask.

“Yeah, I’m afraid that’s not going to be possible.” One of the volunteers tells us. “We’re not allowed to have people hang out overnight like this unless there are facilities for them and security. We’d need Porta-Poties for a thousand people and police patrols and the whole lot, and no one had time to get all that organized. Your best bet is to get home, sleep, and then catch the first BART train up at 5am and keep your fingers crossed.

Monday is the last day to do this, after all.

00000

So we go home. We crash out early. We wake up at 4:00. We drive an hour to hit the BART station. We get the first train up. We arrive at City Hall at 6:30AM.

The line stretches around the entirety of San Francisco City Hall. You could toss a can of Coke from the end of the line to the people who’re up to be first through the doors and not have to worry about cracking it open after.

“Uh.” We go. “What the fuck is -this-?”

So.

Remember why they weren’t going to be able to have people hang out overnight?

Turns out, enough SF cops were willing to volunteer unpaid time to do patrols to cover security. And some anonymous person delivered over a dozen Porta-Poties that’d gotten dropped off around 8 the night before.

It’s 6:30 am, there are almost a thousand people in front of us in line to get this literal once in a lifetime marriage, the last chance we expect to have for at least 15 more years (it was 2004, gay rights were getting shoved back on every front. It was not looking good. We were just happy we lived in California were we at least weren’t likely to loose job protections any time soon.).

Then it starts to rain.

We had not dressed for rain.

00000

Here is how the next six hours go.

We’re in line. Once the doors open at 7am, it will creep forward at a slow crawl. It’s around 7 when someone shows up with garbage bags for everyone. Cut holes for the head and arms and you’ve got a makeshift raincoat! So you’ve got hundreds of gays and lesbians decked out in the nicest shit they could get on short notice wearing trashbags over it.

Everyone is so happy.

Everyone is so nervous/scared/frantic that we wont be able to get through the doors before they close for the day.

People online start making delivery orders.

Coffee and bagels are ordered in bulk and delivered to City Hall for whoever needs it. We get pizza. We get roses. Random people come by who just want to give hugs to people in line because they’re just so happy for us. The tour busses make detours to go past the lines. Chinese tourists lean out with their cameras and shout GOOD LUCK while car horns honk.

A single sad man holding a Bible tries to talk people out of doing this, tells us all we’re sinning and to please don’t. He gives up after an hour. A nun replaces him with a small sign about how this is against God’s will. She leaves after it disintegrates in the rain.

The day before, when it was sunny, there had been a lot of protestors. Including a large Muslim group with their signs about how “Not even DOGS do such things!” Which… Yes they do.

A lot of snide words are said (by me) about how the fact that we’re willing to come out in the rain to do this while they’re not willing to come out in the rain to protest it proves who actually gives an actual shit about the topic.

Time passes. I measure it based on which side of City Hall we’re on. The doors face East. We start on Northside. Coffee and trashbags are delivered when we’re on the North Side. Pizza first starts showing up when we’re on Westside, which is also where I see Bible Man and Nun. Roses are delivered on Southside. And so forth.

00000

We have Line Neighbors.

Ahead of us are a gay couple a decade or two older than us. They’ve been together for eight years. The older one is a school teacher. He has his coat collar up and turns away from any news cameras that come near while we reposition ourselves between the lenses and him. He’s worried about the parents of one of his students seeing him on the news and getting him fired. The younger one will step away to get interviewed on his own later on. They drove down for the weekend once they heard what was going on. They’d started around the same time we did, coming from the Northeast, and are parked in a nearby garage.

The most perky energetic joyful woman I’ve ever met shows up right after we turned the corner to Southside to tackle the younger of the two into a hug. She’s their local friend who’d just gotten their message about what they’re doing and she will NOT be missing this. She is -so- happy for them. Her friends cry on her shoulders at her unconditional joy.

Behind us are a lesbian couple who’d been up in San Francisco to celebrate their 12th anniversary together. “We met here Valentines Day weekend! We live down in San Diego, now, but we like to come up for the weekend because it’s our first love city.”

“Then they announced -this-,” the other one says, “and we can’t leave until we get married. I called work Sunday and told them I calling in sick until Wednesday.”

“I told them why,” her partner says, “I don’t care if they want to give me trouble for it. This is worth it. Fuck them.”

My husband-to-be and I look at each other. We’ve been together for not even two years at this point. Less than two years. Is it right for us to be here? We’re potentially taking a spot from another couple that’d been together longer, who needed it more, who deserved it more.”

“Don’t you fucking dare.” Says the 40-something gay couple in front of us.

“This is as much for you as it is for us!” says the lesbian couple who’ve been together for over a decade behind us.

“You kids are too cute together,” says the gay couple’s friend. “you -have- to. Someday -you’re- going to be the old gay couple that’s been together for years and years, and you deserve to have been married by then.”

We stay in line.

It’s while we’re on the Southside of City Hall, just about to turn the corner to Eastside at long last that we pick up our own companions. A white woman who reminds me an awful lot of my aunt with a four year old black boy riding on her shoulders. “Can we say we’re with you? His uncles are already inside and they’re not letting anyone in who isn’t with a couple right there.” “Of course!” we say.

The kid is so very confused about what all the big deal is, but there’s free pizza and the busses keep driving by and honking, so he’s having a great time.

We pass by a statue of Lincoln with ‘Marriage for All!’ and "Gay Rights are Human Rights!" flags tucked in the crooks of his arms and hanging off his hat.

It’s about noon, noon-thirty when we finally make it through the doors and out of the rain.

They’ve promised that anyone who’s inside when the doors shut will get married. We made it. We’re safe.

We still have a -long- way to go.

00000

They’re trying to fit as many people into City Hall as possible. Partially to get people out of the rain, mostly to get as many people indoors as possible. The line now stretches down into the basement and up side stairs and through hallways I’m not entirely sure the public should ever be given access to. We crawl along slowly but surely.

It’s after we’ve gone through the low-ceiling basement hallways past offices and storage and back up another set of staircases and are going through a back hallway of low-ranked functionary offices that someone comes along handing out the paperwork. “It’s an hour or so until you hit the office, but take the time to fill these out so you don’t have to do it there!”

We spend our time filling out the paperwork against walls, against backs, on stone floors, on books.

We enter one of the public areas, filled with displays and photos of City Hall Demonstrations of years past.

I take pictures of the big black and white photo of the Abraham Lincoln statue holding banners and signs against segregation and for civil rights.

The four year old boy we helped get inside runs past us around this time, chased by a blond haired girl about his own age, both perused by an exhausted looking teenager helplessly begging them to stop running.

Everyone is wet and exhausted and vibrating with anticipation and the building-wide aura of happiness that infuses everything.

The line goes into the marriage office. A dozen people are at the desk, shoulder to shoulder, far more than it was built to have working it at once.

A Sister of Perpetual Indulgence is directing people to city officials the moment they open up. She’s done up in her nun getup with all her makeup on and her beard is fluffed and be-glittered and on point. “Oh, I was here yesterday getting married myself, but today I’m acting as your guide. Number 4 sweeties, and -Congradulatiooooons!-“

The guy behind the counter has been there since six. It’s now 1:30. He’s still giddy with joy. He counts our money. He takes our paperwork, reviews it, stamps it, sends off the parts he needs to, and hands the rest back to us. “Alright, go to the Rotunda, they’ll direct you to someone who’ll do the ceremony. Then, if you want the certificate, they’ll direct you to -that- line.” “Can’t you just mail it to us?” “Normally, yeah, but the moment the courts shut us down, we’re not going to be allowed to.”

We take our paperwork and join the line to the Rotunda.

If you’ve seen James Bond: A View to a Kill, you’ve seen the San Francisco City Hall Rotunda. There are literally a dozen spots set up along the balconies that overlook the open area where marriage officials and witnesses are gathered and are just processing people through as fast as they can.

That’s for the people who didn’t bring their own wedding officials.

There’s a Catholic-adjacent couple there who seem to have brought their entire families -and- the priest on the main steps. They’re doing the whole damn thing. There’s at least one more Rabbi at work, I can’t remember what else. Just that there was a -lot-.

We get directed to the second story, northside. The San Francisco City Treasurer is one of our two witnesses. Our marriage officient is some other elected official I cannot remember for the life of me (and I'm only writing down what I can actively remember, so I can't turn to my husband next to me and ask, but he'll have remembered because that's what he does.)

I have a wilting lily flower tucked into my shirt pocket. My pants have water stains up to the knees. My hair is still wet from the rain, I am blubbering, and I can’t get the ring on my husband’s finger. The picture is a treat, I tell you.

There really isn’t a word for the mix of emotions I had at that time. Complete disbelief that this was reality and was happening. Relief that we’d made it. Awe at how many dozens of people had personally cheered for us along the way and the hundreds to thousands who’d cheered for us generally.

Then we're married.

Then we get in line to get our license.

It’s another hour. This time, the line goes through the higher stories. Then snakes around and goes past the doorway to the mayor’s office.

Mayor Newsom is not in today. And will be having trouble getting into his office on Tuesday because of the absolute barricade of letters and flowers and folded up notes and stuffed animals and City Hall maps with black marked “THANK YOU!”s that have been piled up against it.

We make it to the marriage records office.

I take a picture of my now husband standing in front of a case of the marriage records for 1902-1912. Numerous kids are curled up in corners sleeping. My own memory is spotty. I just know we got the papers, and then we’re done with lines. We get out, we head to the front entrance, and we walk out onto the City Hall steps.

It's almost 3PM.

00000

There are cheers, there’s rice thrown at us, there are hundreds of people celebrating us with unconditional love and joy and I had never before felt the goodness that exists in humanity to such an extent. It’s no longer raining, just a light sprinkle, but there are still no protestors. There’s barely even any news vans.

We make our way through the gauntlet, we get hands shaked, people with signs reading ”Congratulations!” jump up and down for us. We hit the sidewalks, and we begin to limp our way back to the BART station.

I’m at the BART station, we’re waiting for our train back south, and I’m sitting on the ground leaning against a pillar and in danger of falling asleep when a nondescript young man stops in front of me and shuffles his feet nervously. “Hey. I just- I saw you guys, down at City Hall, and I just… I’m so happy for you. I’m so proud of what you could do. I’m- I’m just really glad, glad you could get to do this.”

He shakes my hand, clasps it with both of his and shakes it. I thank him and he smiles and then hurries away as fast as he can without running.

Our train arrives and the trip south passes in a semilucid blur.

We get back to our car and climb in.

It’s 4:30 and we are starving.

There’s a Carls Jr near the station that we stop off at and have our first official meal as a married couple. We sit by the window and watch people walking past and pick out others who are returning from San Francisco. We're all easy to pick out, what with the combination of giddiness and water damage.

We get home about 6-7. We take the dog out for a good long walk after being left alone for two days in a row. We shower. We bundle ourselves up. We bury ourselves in blankets and curl up and just sort of sit adrift in the surrealness of what we’d just done.

We wake up the next day, Tuesday, to read that the California State Supreme Court has rejected the petition to shut down the San Francisco weddings because the paperwork had a misplaced comma that made the meaning of one phrase unclear.

The State Supreme Court would proceed to play similar bureaucratic tricks to drag the process out for nearly a full month before they have nothing left and finally shut down Mayor Newsom’s marriages.

My parents had been out of state at the time at a convention. They were flying into SFO about the same moment we were walking out of City Hall. I apologized to them later for not waiting and my mom all but shook me by the shoulders. “No! No one knew that they’d go on for so long! You did what you needed to do! I’ll just be there for the next one!”

00000

It was just a piece of paper. Legally, it didn’t even hold any weight thirty days later. My philosophy at the time was “marriage really isn’t that important, aside from the legal benefits. It’s just confirming what you already have.”

But maybe it’s just societal weight, or ingrained culture, or something, but it was different after. The way I described it at the time, and I’ve never really come up with a better metaphor is, “It’s like we were both holding onto each other in the middle of the ocean in the middle of a storm. We were keeping each other above water, we were each other’s support. But then we got this piece of paper. And it was like the ground rose up to meet our feet. We were still in an ocean, still in the middle of a storm, but there was a solid foundation beneath our feet. We still supported each other, but there was this other thing that was also keeping our heads above the water.

It was different. It was better. It made things more solid and real.

I am forever grateful for all the forces and all the people who came together to make it possible. It’s been twenty years and we’re still together and still married.

We did a domestic partnership a year later to get the legal paperwork. We’d done a private ceremony with proper rings (not just ones grabbed out of the husband’s collection hours before) before then. And in 2008, we did a legal marriage again.

Rushed. In a hurry. Because there was Proposition 13 to be voted on which would make them all illegal again if it passed.

It did, but we were already married at that point, and they couldn’t negate it that time.

Another few years after that, the Supreme Court finally threw up their hands and said "Fine! It's been legal in places and nothing's caught on fire or been devoured by locusts. It's legal everywhere. Shut up about it!"

And that was that.

00000

When I was in highschool, in the late 90s, I didn’t expect to see legal gay marriage until I was in my 50s. I just couldn’t see how the American public as it was would ever be okay with it.

I never expected to be getting married within five years. I never expected it to be legal nationwide before I’d barely started by 30s. I never thought I’d be in my 40s and it’d be such a non-issue that the conservative rabble rousers would’ve had to move onto other wedge issues altogether.

I never thought that I could introduce another man as my husband and absolutely no one involved would so much as blink.

I never thought I’d live in this world.

And it’s twenty years later today. I wonder how our line buddies are doing. Those babies who were running around the wide open rooms playing tag will have graduated college by now. The kids whose parents the one line-buddy was worried would see him are probably married too now. Some of them to others of the same gender.

I don’t have some greater message to make with all this. Other then, culture can shift suddenly in ways you can’t predict. For good or ill. Mainly this is just me remembering the craziest fucking 36 hours of my life twenty years after the fact and sharing them with all of you.

The future we’re resigned to doesn’t have to be the one we live in. Society can shift faster than you think. The unimaginable of twenty years ago is the baseline reality of today.

And always remember that the people who want to get married will show up by the thousands in rain that none of those who’re against it will brave.

[gusu-emilu]

The Flowers That Grew From Our Ruins: The Spring Orchid

(post-canon songxiao vignette, rated G, 1k, AO3)

For ten years, Song Zichen had traveled alone. Without the pair of footsteps that used to thrum beside him like rainfall, or the laughter that used to brush him like a warm breeze.

Ten years. And now, for the first time in ten years, a silent, weightless companion rested in his sleeve.

There were still no footsteps, still no laughter. But there was a faint hum against his skin.

With Shuanghua and Fuxue upon his back, Song Zichen left Yi City and headed south.

After two moons, or perhaps two dozen, he arrived in a valley known as the Emerald of the Earth’s Belt. Limestone cliffs, lush forests, and roaring waterfalls surrounded Song Zichen on the winding forest path. Verdant mountain peaks met the deep blue sky and blended together excitedly, like old friends reuniting in each other’s embrace.

Songbirds chirped overhead, a macaque slipped into the trees, and Song Zichen walked over mossy stone stairs, then crossed a bridge of amber wooden logs with cloudy turquoise water shimmering beneath him.

On the other side of the bridge, he found a notch in the cliff to sit on, and a patch of sun through the trees’ shadows to place the Spirit-Trapping Pouch under. The sun brightened the fabric’s scarlet runes.

Runes written by Xue Yang.

Cursed runes, perhaps.

But they kept the soul inside from shattering, and they kept the footsteps and laughter a lifetime closer to Song Zichen, and that lifted at least one word of the curse.

He laid two fingers on the pouch and sent spiritual energy into it.

Fierce corpses were made to destroy, not nurse souls, but every night Song Zichen practiced clearing the resentful energy that bound his body and summoning spiritual energy that he could give to a soul with greater need for its peace.

After each healing session, Song Zichen had no spiritual energy left to connect with Xingchen and attempt to speak to him.

Back then, he never had much to say to Xingchen, but now he would have spoken manuscripts worth of words if he still had his tongue, so he could have sounded something real and imagined that Xingchen heard.

He could not imagine Xingchen heard if he only thought the words.

There were few ways to let someone listen to his mind without spending spiritual energy he did not have. Only once had he dared waste his energy on trying, and Xingchen had not responded. Since then, he saved all his qi for patching together Xingchen’s soul.

But since entering the Emerald of the Earth’s Belt, a pulse had awakened in the pouch. The pressure was not firm like the hand Xingchen had once gripped around Shuanghua, but it was steady like the hand he had once intertwined with Song Zichen’s.

The tension in Song Zichen’s chest lightened.

Using spiritual energy for a one-sided conversation would not cost too much today. The Emerald Valley had enough life to fill them both.

The pouch was warm under his touch.

Xingchen. I am here.

With two fingers still on the pouch, he rubbed his other hand on the roots of a tree stretching along the rocky cliff face behind him.

This forest is beautiful. The colors are like firecrackers. Can you feel the tree I am holding, how strong its roots are?

The tree roots weaved up and down and across the rocks, patterned like paths on a map, curling and reaching but never anchoring in dirt, for Song Zichen could not see any dirt. It was as if they floated on the cliff face with nothing to nourish them. Yet their branches towered overhead.

Song Zichen slid his hand along the rock face. Root, to stone, to root again.

It is miraculous. The trees seem to grow from solid cliff.

He imagined the earthy scent that he could no longer smell as a fierce corpse, and sent the memory of the scent to Xingchen. He traced the climbing contours of the wood as high as he could reach while still touching the pouch.

Can you feel how tall they have grown? And with only bare rock to support them.

His hand came to stillness.

Life has risen from this ragged foundation.

Xingchen seemed to stir.

The air became crisper.

Reaching around the wood, Song Zichen's fingers closed upon a tender leaf. An orchid sprouted from the cliff face, concealed behind tree roots and bumps in the rock, a delicate blossom with white petals and a yellow lip with faint tendrils of violet at its center.

Song Zichen trailed a finger along the flower’s stem.

Have you heard the phrase ‘lan jiao’ before?

He smiled softly.

It means ‘orchid friend.’ An eternal companion.

His finger paused just before reaching the cloud-white petals of the flower.

Orchids are hermits, just like this one. They grant the world their gentle fragrance, never seeking to strike with their aroma. All while hiding in the corners, whether the world can see them or not.

He raised one of the petals, just barely pressing into it, as his touch deepened against Xingchen.

Then he turned away from the flower, away from the cliff face to sit in the notch again, positioning himself closer to the pouch.

He drank in the landscape. The iridescent teal water that rolled from the green mountains in distant crashes, the soft rich dirt under his feet, the sunlight dancing through the canopy of trees and caressing Xingchen.

He looked over his shoulder at the tree roots growing from the rock face.

Stretched and leaned to see the humble paleness of the orchid again, its sunny center like laughter in the breeze.

He saw.

Song Zichen saw the orchid, and he knew the orchid, and the eyes of the orchid were in him.

He picked up the pouch and placed Xingchen in his lap.

Trees do not grow from rock in a day. Or a moon.

I will wait until we meet again, lan jiao.

I will be here.

* * *

Part 1 of “The Flowers That Grew From Our Ruins.” This short story and two others (fourth one is still coming) about different characters can be found on AO3. You know, if you’re into that.

[whisperthatruns]

Air Rights

The French Church---         never much on looks, red brick leaning                  in the direction of Romanesque---

settled into modest circumstances         how many decades on West 16th?                  Nothing divine in the details,

veneer peeling from doors never         meant for here, never open. No light,                  evenings, through colored glass,

though by day you could discern,         twenty feet above the sidewalk,                 Christ stepping onto the waters of Galilee,

sea and savior oiled by exhaust,         nearly indistinguishable. Weeknights,                  downstairs, a dozen groups renounced

at length crystal or alcohol, skin or smoke,         and what each circle resisted glowed                  at the center of their ring of chairs,

nearly visible; there you could consecrate         relinquishment, or find someone already ruined                  to pursue whatever made you, for the night,

unsinkable. The rent, collected each time         they passed the hat, kept the church afloat.                  Of the congregation eight souls remained,

Haitian evangelicals. Only once         I saw someone mount the stairs                  toward those slapdash doors

---who could have missed her?         Under a plane tree clearly considering                  giving up all ambition, an idling towncar’s

rear door opened, she stepped out,         and I knew at once that if she’d ever                  been thwarted, she simply summoned

more of some alloy of metal and will         she drew up from beneath the pavement,                  maybe from Haiti itself, from generations

that stood unbending in her.         In her green hat, in the forgiving archways                  of her dress, her capacious black purse,

she conquered the stairs, and raised her hand         to open the door. Just once.                  The meeting schedule disappeared

from the basement entry’s wire-gridded glass,         the rooms stayed dark, addicts no longer                  smoking and talking under the miserable tree.

Twilights, before they were gone, I’d walk         through a climate so thick I could almost taste it,                  meet the gaze of men whose eyes locked

into mine. Was this the night they knew         was coming, the night they’d fall?                  I recognized them, I wanted

to put my hand into the wound         at their sides, that we might be real                  to one another. A barrier went up

around the entry, papered with signs         and permits, and an ‘artist’s rendering’                  ---fourteen stories clad in bluestone,

suspended above the somehow         freshened brick of the church.                  A flyer in our vestibule said they’d sold

the space between their sanctuary         and heaven for a cool eight million,                  and units in what would be

the highest stepped-back Nineveh tower         on our block: raise the faithful high,                  plunge the neighbors into shadow.

Lord thou preparest a banquet for me...         Workers boxed the plane tree’s trunk                  in a cage of 2 x 4s, heavy equipment scooped

a new foundation, hammered the pilings in.         How do they stand it, in Cairo or Rome,                  when any shaft in sand reaches down

five thousand years? Bad enough in New York:         artifacts of quarantine and revolt,                  bullets that did or didn’t strike rioters,

squatters or immigrants, Irish or black.         Cemetery slabs etched with the hex                  of David’s star. Oyster middens,

pipe-stems, crockery stamped with eagles         and shields. And in the Historical Society,                  dug from a site like this one,

an object I can’t forget,         nightmare thing, its plutonium half-life                  still ticking: brass shackles,

superbly made, locked into place         by a brass bar, sized to fit                  the wrists of a child.

That sign the angel placed outside         of Eden, forbidding re-entry?                  No arrow, but these joined zeroes

fetched up out of the mud,         their poison seeping into                  the groundwater. The backhoe clawed,

rebar spiked its way up, and some days         traffic stopped while the concrete mixer’s                  rotating drum poured into place more

of the solid substance of our block.         The city stopped work more than once.                  I saw, where they’d poured the footing

a little short, workers float a three-inch layer         along the top of the foundation: sure to crack,                  maybe one day bring the whole thing down?

Though walking home, after hours,         late winter, I found towering at midnight’s center                  a vertical representation of heaven,

nine episodes of the exaltations of light:         builders’ lamps diffused by silver ceiling joists,                  filtered through layers of tarps,

an unfinished model of the spirit’s progress,         a pilgrim ladder. Where did it lead?                  Each story occupied a rectangle

of what once was formless,         unglazed windows opening                  on a flecked and spattered galactic swirl...

Up there above the streets,         might not desire be articulated,                  spoken till seen through?

Half-finished, swathed in black netting,         translucent scrims veiling the lights                  left burning within, that building

would never be so beautiful again.         Thank you, Haitian evangelicals, for that.                  Now the Bradford pears open

dusty blooms against a scaffolding         crowning the new Barney’s down the block,                  and black girders sketch out more floors

above a French Church caged         in spars of steel, wave-walking Jesus                  shadowed by the bristling supports

of a terrace just above. Do the faithful         look up toward a future in a world of light,                  more square feet? More power to them;

who doesn’t want a privacy to fill with memory         or anticipation, room for the self                  to billow out in dreaming?

The shadow pooling the street’s grown cooler,         gained in depth. Sometimes I walk                  a city block and notice everyone’s

looking at a screen, or talking to someone         who’s somewhere else, so that here seems                  to thin out, dispersed and characterless.

I miss the addicts. I’ve done time         in that school of longing and resistance,                  a sometime citizen of the knot

I threaded nights on my way to anywhere,         under what the builders have chopped                  to a lame, broken arm of a tree.

Nearly everything we said beneath it         concerned our endless desires,                  the thing that doth shine and so torment us,

our coins passed from hand to hand until         their inscriptions all but wore away.                  Those old longings---at least we said them

to each other. We are of interest to one another,         are we not? The evangelical woman,                  in her superb hat, will she look down

from that glassy paradise and find me         of interest, or the men and women who unroll                  blankets over flattened cardboard

under Barney’s stainless awning,         its steel-cloud sheen? They sleep and dream                  before a chamber gleaming with refusal

all night, inviting no one in,         sealed plate glass displaying                  ---ready?---necklaces, shown on featureless,

streamlined busts, under relentless halogen,         to foreground shine. Ten feet away, tulips                  fenced in iron spear-tips wrap

wings around their furnace flames, heat         drawn up from the center of the earth;                  a strength never bridled yet,

even the mutilated tree aura’d         in a froth of green. No intention                  to quit, none whatsoever.

The new tower’s blank surface         offers fewer chances to engage,                  an old church’s ramshackle intimacy

shrinks beneath what we all see coming:         a seamless façade interested only in itself,                  dwarfing the red brick it doesn’t crush

because---why should it? The air rights         are for sale. Fit yourself around whatever                   it is you want, pay them some fraction

---enormous, in their eyes, but nothing         to the unreal numbers you’ll accrue;                   build, and keep on display what you

swallowed to erect this chilly Babel tower         on my block. I’m all judgment, I know;                   the Congregation won’t regret the sale

of light and air, and those who sleep         on Seventh Avenue, their midnights raked                   by precious glitter

---on the space between their skulls                and the empyrean, no one puts a price.                   The new tower’s a glacial expanse.

The tulips ember in their spiky bed.         We dwell down here in shadow                   and in spring.

Mark Doty, The American Poetry Review (Vol. 49/No. 6, November/December 2020)

[let-it-raines]

Second in Command (Ch. 12)

Summary: Life as the "spare to the heir" isn't all that it's cracked up to be when you're the supposed screw-up of the family, but people don't know what really happens behind closed doors.

Rating: Mature

The entire story available on ao3 | HERE | 

A/N: I like to think that this chapter has it all. Romance, drama, witty banter, Christmas-themed celebrations...murder. Just kidding, there’s absolutely no murder. I haven’t quite branched out into the crime-solving branch of story-writing yet :D So enjoy a Christmas in October. I hear it’s even better than Christmas in July and that more words than usual are involved.

PS: This is now over 100,000 words, and I don’t know how that happened. Part of me wants to do something special like write a long part from Emma’s POV or ask for prompts from you guys, whether they be for different things you want more detail on in this story or maybe just general prompts for anything. I don’t know when I’d even get around to them, but I think I may still like to try. I don’t know. Let me know if that’s something you guys want :D

Tag list: @resident-of-storybrooke @kmomof4 @wellhellotragic @profdanglaisstuff @ekr032-blog-blog @bmbbcs4evr  @onceuponaprincessworld @jennjenn615 @a-faekindagirl @mayquita @captainsjedi @captswanis4vr @teamhook @skyewardolicitycloisdelena91 @branlovesouat

Killian hates flying. It’s not that he’s nervous about being suspended thirty thousand feet in the air with mountain ranges or deserts or entire fucking oceans beneath him. If he thinks about it too much, that does cause him a wee bit of concern, but he mostly hates flying because more often than not if he’s flying somewhere, he’s going to be away from home for long periods at a time. He’s thankful and appreciative of the fact that his life affords him the luxury of not just seeing the photogenic parts of the world, but also the parts that are struggling to survive. It allows him different perspectives, and he’s nothing if not someone who is willing to broaden his horizons. It’s just that those horizons take him away from home, from Emma, and there’s no place like home, especially now.

 There’s also the fact that he’s on a plane for over ten hours right now, and while he’s not stuck in economy with cramped legs and a snoring neighbor who doesn’t know what deodorant is, he’s ready for his feet to touch the dirt, solid and firm.

He spends his time reviewing his itinerary for his next few weeks and brushing up on the wildlife preservation efforts. He’s done a few of these trips before, but it’s mostly Liam who has handled them. He’s happy to do it, though, so that Liam can spend time with his family and his newborn daughter. Killian cannot imagine ever having to leave a child of his own for over two weeks, let alone one he’s just now been able to meet like Liam has with Elizabeth. He knows that it’ll happen one day, though. He’ll have to be the dad whose children learn to kiss computer and phone screens while he’s away from them on these kinds of trips. They’ll tone down for him once he has an official family of his own, but they won’t stop until his hair looks more like salt and pepper than inky black.

 His text chime goes off from his phone’s place on his table, and while he expects it to be Emma telling him something she forgot to mention before he left, it’s his mother.

 Allison: I realize that you’ve just gotten on a plane, but the jewelers have finished Emma’s ring. They need your approval before it’s completely set.

 Well, shit.

 Would it be too much to turn this plane around?

 Killian: Will you go look at it for me? I’ll check on it as soon as I get home.

 Five hours later his mother texts him again, just as the plane is making its descent, touching ground in Africa while his mind is in England.

 Allison: It’s beautiful, my boy.

 His week seems to pass by slowly and all at once. He spends his days waking up early to go on expeditions, astounded by the beauty of the wildlife reserve as miles of open land extend beyond him with the sun rising and coating the grounds with an orange glow every morning before the crackling heat takes over. On the days he doesn’t spend observing nature, he works with the people who try to preserve this land and these animals every day. It’s work that he could never do, but if he can support them in their endeavors and bring light to both the struggles and the successes of their organizations, it would be a win for everyone. Sometimes he feels like he’s simply a poster boy, and while that can be true, his name and his face help people by merely being there and showing his support.

 One day, though, he’s lucky enough to visit an underfunded school where the Royal Foundation is providing new supplies for both the staff and the children. He’s thrilled that he can help out, but he’s also been told that these children have a particular fondness for football even with their total of two outdated, deflated balls. So he arranges with his aides to get new balls and jerseys for the children. It’s the least he can do, and the way the children squeal when he brings the mesh bag full of balls around causes him to throw his head back in laughter.

 He’s dressed casually enough in his slacks and loose button down, so when they ask him if he’d be willing to play with them, he can’t help but comply.

 “How old are you, Prince Killian?”

 “Twenty nine.”

 “You’re out of breath like you’re much older.”

 He’ll have to make sure to tell Emma about that when he finally gets to call her later.

 And when he catches his breath.

 He and Emma have either been totally missing each other on their nightly calls, or he’s been falling asleep either before a call starts or in the middle of it. Thank the heavens for texting, but reading words on a screen don’t bring quite the same sense of comfort that actually being able to hear her voice does, let alone seeing her face, even if it’s just through their computer screens. Maybe he’s already a bit like the man whose loved ones have to kiss him through a screen.

 He runs late that day, keeping to how this week has been going, getting caught up talking to some of the teachers at the school before he has another engagement that night, and by the time the car pulls up to the house he’s staying in he’s practically sprinting inside and running to his room so that he can get to his laptop, quickly opening it and dialing Emma twice before her face finally showed up on the screen.

 “Hi,” Emma greets, waving her hand at him like she’s not sure what to do with her hands, and oh is he so glad to see her.

 “Hello, beautiful. How was your day?”

 “Oh good,” she laughs, tucking that loose strand of hair behind her ear. “My dad apparently threw out his back, though I do think he’s being a bit dramatic, so I spent the day restocking the shelves and doing inventory at the pub before we open since Will has the next two days off. So that would explain,” she picks up her computer and moves it around to show him where she is, “why I’m sitting in my very empty old room with sheets that have clouds on them.”

 “So you’re staying with your parents tonight?”

 “Tonight, maybe the next few days.”

 “Why aren’t you sleeping at home?”

 “My bed here is much more comfortable than our couch. Plus, you know, people who talk about more than if a baby is eating enough.”

 “Why are you sleeping on the couch?”

 She simply stares at him, her lips in a straight line as she quirks her eyebrow. Oh, she’s not sleeping in their bed because he’s not there. That’s…love. Maybe a little bit crazy, too. But what is love without a little crazy? That’s love to not want to sleep in their bed when he’s not there when it has to be infinitely more comfortable to sleep in a bed alone than with him.

 Though he will wake up in the middle of the night here, eyes flashing open as he worries that he’s rolled a bit too far to the right and on top of Emma only to realize she’s not there and his body is only meeting more mattress.

 “I love you, Emma. More than anything.” “I love you, too. Infinitely or whatever since you stole the ‘more than anything’ line.”

He chuckles at the indignant look on her face. She’s never been one to verbally express her love as explicitly as he does, but even if her words aren’t as eloquent or as often, he still knows that she means them. “Now tell me about your day.”

 “So I began the day looking at a herd of elephants and in the middle there was this lad who called me both old and out of shape.”

 “You’re kidding.”

 “No, we were playing a bit of football, and I guess I lost my breath. They all got a kick out of it. Pun intended.”

 They talk for a bit longer, but before he manages to wish her a goodnight, she’s fallen asleep sitting straight up against the headboard of her old bed, her head drooping forward to rest against her chest.

 “Ten more days, my love.”

 He caresses her face through the screen, his fingerprints marking up the laptop, before shutting the device and shutting away Emma.

 By the time his two and a half weeks are over, he’s exhausted, the long days and physical treks having him be completely knackered on his plane ride to London as well as in the car back to his actual, physical home in Kensington. He’d meant to have a look at Emma’s ring, give it the final approval, but he simply couldn’t force himself to go anywhere other than home. He cannot wait to see Emma, and he knows from their sporadic talks that she’s had a difficult few days without him. But he’s home now, just feet away from her, and that’s the only thing that really keeps him from falling out as he walks through their front door.

 “Emma,” he calls as he steps into the apartment, the one bag he managed to bring from the car trailing behind him until he drops it against the hardwood. “Darling, are you here?”

 He’s checked both the living room and kitchen, walking through the dining room and sitting area as he goes, and there’s no sign of Emma anywhere, just boxes of Christmas decorations they need to put up. He knows she should be home. He texted her as soon as he landed, and she said she was.

 It’s then that he sees her bounding down the stairs at breakneck speed and before he knows it her arms are wrapped around his neck and her legs wrapped around his waist as she peppers kisses everywhere she can reach. It’s bloody wonderful, and he can’t help but nuzzle his face into her hair and breathe her in.

 He’s missed her.

 Bloody hell, he’s missed her.

 “Hello, love,” he laughs after she’s cupped his face and planted a smacking kiss on his lips, his arms now completely supporting her weight under her thighs. “Did you miss me?”

 “Not at all,” she jests as he walks them to the kitchen, setting her down on the countertop so that he can stand between her legs and give her a proper kiss, his tongue edging into her mouth and tasting the peppermint he smelled on her breath a moment ago.

 “I missed you like crazy, my love,” he sighs against her lips while he runs his hands up and down her biceps over the softness of her sweater until his hands find the exposed skin at her stomach and he trails his hands under the material until he’s brushing the sides of her breasts through her bra.

 She cups his face again, running her thumbs underneath his eyes. “You look tired.”

 “I’m not that tired,” he protests, running his thumbs over the flat of her stomach while his other fingers work at her back.

 “Killian.”

 “I’m bloody exhausted.”

 “You should go to bed, at least a short nap.”

 “I’d really rather take you to bed.”

 He begins kissing at her neck, mapping her skin with his tongue in the way he hasn’t been able to do in over half a month, until she pushes at his shoulders and he rests his forehead against her collarbone.

 “Later. After you sleep.”

 When Killian wakes up from what turns out to be a much more rejuvenating nap than he was aware he needed, he and Emma finally begin decorating the apartment for Christmas. They’d gotten everything out of storage before he’d left, but the only thing up was the tree, which was still bare of all lights and ornaments. Emma’s got a Christmas playlist playing on speakers throughout the apartment, and she most definitely spiked his hot chocolate with rum, not that he’s complaining.

 Growing up, his family would never personally decorate a Christmas tree because their staff would always do it for them to make sure the trees were decorated the same every year, and then the children would add a few ornaments at the end. It wasn’t until Emma that he began decorating on his own, and it wasn’t until his third Christmas with Emma and the Nolans that he got to celebrate in the way that most people do, having been unable to be with her for the first few.

  They’re decorating the Christmas tree that’s currently situated where his favorite couch in the Nolan’s apartment usually resides. Actually, no. They’re trying to decorate the Christmas tree, but the lights are tangled and every time he manages to get one string undone, Emma’s handing him another thread of colorful lights that are twisted into knots that shouldn’t even be physically possible. What the hell happened in these boxes over the past year? Did the lights come alive?

 “So you’re telling me that you’ve never gone to a Christmas tree farm?”

 “When would I get the opportunity to go to a Christmas tree farm? I have to go through secret maneuvers just to get here, inside a private apartment, just to see you, love.”

 “I don’t know?” She shrugs, taking the current string he’s working on out of his hands and messing with it because apparently he’s taking too long to untangle it. “Sometime in the dark of the night with prosthetics on your face and a blonde wig?” “Well that’s an image of myself I never wanted.”

 “What? You don’t like blondes? There are a lot of us out there.”

 “Don’t I know it?”

 “Hey,” Emma protests, tossing a plastic candy cane in his direction, “there better only be the one blonde in your life.”

 “Aye,” Killian acknowledges before standing from his spot on the floor and pulling Emma toward him so that their bodies are pressed together and her arms are around his neck, her hands playing with the tips of his hair. He just got it cut, and whenever he does that Emma’s hands always manage to find their way into it to test out the new length. “You’re my favorite blonde, darling.”

 “And don’t you forget it,” she laughs before capturing his lips with hers, a leisurely sway of lips turning into a passionate dance of tongues, and before he knows it he’s got Emma pressed against the remaining couch while his body covers hers.

 Her hands have just reached into the back of his jean’s pockets, squeezing his ass and aligning their hips better together, Killian rolling his to get some friction for his growing hardness, when both of Emma’s parents walk in the room.

 “Hey, do you two want to…what are you doing?”

 “Good heavens, Mary Margaret. You have eyes. You know what they’re doing.”

 All Killian knows is that he wants to melt into this couch right now and take Emma with him. He hasn’t moved off of her yet, and she’s most definitely using his body as a shield from her parents. Oh shit, her hands are still grabbing his ass.

  “Right,” Mary Margaret stutters, and he can see the flush against the white of her cheeks, “we’re just going to go back to our room now. We forgot some decorations, didn’t we, David?”

 He’s not quite as mortified as Emma is, though he is a tad bit embarrassed that her parents just caught them dry humping on the couch. He’s a twenty-six year old man, and his girlfriend’s parents should never even really have the option of knowing about his sex life. Of course, her parents’ room is right across the hall from Emma’s, and they’ve probably heard a lot worse than what they’ve just seen…not that he would ever dare point that out of Emma. He might be out of both a girlfriend and sex all in one sentence.

 “I really need my own place,” Emma mumbles as he pulls away from her so that he can look down at her. He was right. She’s gone red as Christmas.

 “I’d probably help if you had taken your hands off my ass at some point.”

 “You’re being an ass.”

 “I’m simply stating the obvious.” He pops his hips up to point out the fact that she’s still very much feeling him up, and she finally gets the hint, removing her hands so that he can climb off of her to try to go back to decorating and to get his still tight jeans situation under control.

 David and Mary Margaret eventually come back out into their living room after texting Emma to make sure that the room was safe of all plundering, and the four of them finish decorating the tree. Most of their ornaments are homemade, things that Emma made for them in primary school. He finds several that are pictures of young Emma in what seems to be a snow globe made of colored construction paper, and he wishes that they had things like that in his home. He’d of course made crafts in primary school, and while the occasional few would go on display around the house, it was never in the way that the Nolans keep all of Emma’s work. Mary Margaret basically kept them in as pristine of condition as she could, and even if Emma is embarrassed by having some of the items on display, he is simply glad to know that Emma’s always been loved.

 None of them are working in the pub that night, Emma only sneaking down to get a bottle of whiskey clad in her pajamas, when her parents begin telling him stories of Emma as a teenager. Even if he’s heard them all before, he still takes delight in how embarrassed Emma becomes over them, her cheeks flushed with both the alcohol and the desire to never hear about when she was a cheerleader for two weeks before quitting the team.

 “Do you still have that uniform, love?”

 “Yeah, you interested in seeing if it’ll fit you?”

 That night he watches as the Nolans lounge about in their living room, Emma’s hair messy and un-brushed as she lies with her head in his lap, and not a one of them caring how they look or if they meet the right dress code and eat their food the right way. Not every one of his family’s Christmas traditions are stiff. Some are quite fun if he’s honest with himself, but they would never dare to lounge in front of the television in their mismatched pajamas, drinking whiskey out of coffee cups and Chinese food out of the cartons. Instead they sit in a great hall watching a movie on a projector, drinks served in fine stemware.

 David and Mary Margaret fall asleep around eleven, snoring on the couch in a position that he knows will hurt them if they stay that way all night.

 “Put your coat and shoes on, Killian.”

 “Why?”

 “Just trust me.”

 He does as Emma says while she stuffs her feet in her boots, throwing on her insulted jacket and a beanie before walking down the hallway and turning into her parents’ room, unlocking the window before climbing up the escape ladder. It’s freezing outside, a slight bit of snow falling, and he has no idea what could possibly drive her to want to go up to the roof. But he’s not going to stay inside and never find out.

 “Emma, what the hell are we doing up here? Are you going to freeze me to death?”

 “No,” she deadpans bending down and picking up an outlet and an extension cord, “we have a heater and the rest of that bottle of whiskey.” She finishes making sure that the electric heater is working before walking over to him looking more like a human snowman than Emma, and grabbing his hand to lead him to the edge of the roof. “Look,” she points to the road below, “you can see all of the other people who have decorated from up here.”

 She’s right because when he looks down onto the cobblestone street he can see that different businesses and homes have lights brightening up the place more than the usual streetlamps, and if he looks carefully he can see Christmas trees inside the upper floors of the buildings where most of the business owners reside, some of the lights flickering off the later in the night that it gets as the light snow continues to fall, painting the rooftops in a faint dusting of white.

 “Isn’t it beautiful?”

 “Aye.”

 “It’s one of my favorite things about moving to London.” He nudges her shoulder. “I mean, besides you. At home we’d go on car rides around the town, looking at the neighborhoods and downtown just to see what decorations people came up with that year.” She sighs before she moves to stand in front of him, his arms over her shoulders as he rests his chin on the top of her hat and she reaches up to rest her hands over his. “Mom would make to-go cups of hot chocolate.”

 “With cinnamon?”

 “Sometimes with peppermint. And we’d drive and drive until I’d seen every house in the town at least once before Christmas. There was this one…oh my God, Killian. It was amazing. It was like something out of a movie, the way the lights were strung around the trees leading up to the house and these giant wreaths that are bigger than me.”

 “That sounds wonderful, darling. Like a real winter wonderland.”

 “Yeah,” she exhales, leaning back into him even more, “I miss being able to do that since at least one of us is working most nights, so I like to come up here and watch the neighbors…which sounds creepy now that I say it out loud.”

 He laughs before kissing the material of her hat even if she can’t feel his lips.

 “Thank you for sharing and for showing me this. One day I’d like to drive around to look at all of the Christmas lights. With you, if that’s okay.”

 “If you bring me hot chocolate with either cinnamon or peppermint, I’m yours, babe.”

 “I’ll bring both.”

  Between Emma and Killian, they get most of the apartment decorated, the usual shades of gray and blue now replaced with reds, greens, and golds. It’s festive in the way that it should be for those who celebrate Christmas, and as much as he hates that Emma waited on him for weeks to decorate, he’s glad that they’ve gotten it done now and done it together.

 Six years together, and it’s their first actual Christmas together. No celebrating a few weeks early or days into January. This is Christmas, completely together.

 He’s still bloody exhausted, however, and so he goes to bed earlier than expected that night and doesn’t feel the bed dip until a few hours later when Emma joins him, backing up so that her back is nestled against his front. She reaches back to pull his arm around her stomach, but he’s already there, wrapping himself around her and pulling her closer as he kisses the back of her neck.

 “That wasn’t even the longest we’ve been apart, and it felt like forever. Like it was never going to end.”

 “I know, darling. I know, but it’s over now.”

 He crawls out of bed early the next morning, just before the sun rises, and texts his mum to see if she wants to go with him while he gives the final clearance on Emma’s ring design before it’s fully set in the band. Emma’s still as asleep as she can be, stretching out on the mattress when he moves off of it, and he needs to pick up the ring while he has the opportunity to do so before all of the holiday festivities begin.

 It’s beautiful, stunning really, and while he’s never been one to wear much jewelry himself, he’s been raised in a world where his family is in possession of some of the most stunning jewels in the world. This is one of them, and he’s almost giddy with excitement over the thought of it adorning Emma’s finger one day soon.

 He doesn’t know where he’ll hide it in the apartment, wary of Emma stumbling across it in her search for one of the items she always seems to be losing, so when his mother offers to keep it with her at home, he doesn’t hesitate to agree to that, handing her the velvet box with his most prized possession inside and giving his mother a kiss on the cheek as they part ways and make their way to their respective homes to prepare for the Christmas gala tonight.

 Emma’s still asleep when he gets home, and he lets out a sigh of relief knowing that he won’t have to explain his absence from her. Instead he strips from his clothes and into the shower, trying to get as ready for this evening as he can so Emma and the stylists she’s bringing in can have the bathroom for the rest of the day without his interruptions. She’d protested having someone doing her hair and makeup, but it’s going to become as much of a part of her life as any other weird aspect that comes to being with him. She’s going to have a love/hate relationship with having a stylist. He already knows.

 “Good morning,” she yawns when he walks out of the bathroom to see her piling her hair on top of her head, an errant strand sticking to her forehead and the sheets pooling around her waist. “You’re up early.”

 “Darling, it’s nearing ten in the morning, and we’ve got a big day today. People, your mum and Ruby included, are coming over in a few hours.”

 “I don’t want to get up.”

 “You have to,” he leans down to kiss her good morning, lingering against her skin before walking downstairs and getting on with his day while Emma most likely goes back to sleep.

 He spends most of his day downstairs, just passing the time by watching the television or last minute Christmas shopping online while Emma and the girls get ready, everyone arriving a little after two. His family doesn’t give each other much, but they do give a little so he needs to finish up on a few items as well as checking that the rest of Emma gifts will arrive on time for their own private celebration in between his family’s celebrations.

 Mary Margaret and Ruby come down the stairs, fully decked out in their dresses, hair and makeup done as they settle beside him in the living room, so he knows that Emma must have offered to go last.

 “You look beautiful, ladies,” he compliments, taking both of their hands and kissing their knuckles before he makes his own way upstairs to get dressed for the evening. He can’t very well sit around as a slacker all day, now can he?

 Emma’s makeup and hair stylists are packing up their bags and their tools when he enters the bathroom, nodding at them before opening the closet door only to have Emma standing there with her hair trailing down her back in loose curls and nothing but lacy black underwear on. His breath catches at the sight before he closes the closet door behind him so that no one out there is privy to this sight besides him.

 “You’re not supposed to be in here yet,” Emma protests as he comes to stand before her, one hand running down her side and landing at her hip while the other lightly caresses her face, careful not to mess with her makeup or her hair.

 “You look so stunning, my darling Emma,” he breathes, voice deeper, huskier than he intended as he looks into the emerald of her eyes before his gaze flickers down to her bare breasts, her nipples slowly hardening into peaks.

 “You only say that because I’m basically naked,” she laughs as her own hands run up his back to rest at his shoulder blades, her breasts pressing into his chest. “But thank you. I cannot wait to see you in your tux.”

 “Can I convince you to take me out of my clothes before I put the different ones on?”

 She laughs as he backs her up to the island counter in the middle of the closet, hoisting her up by the waist and placing her on the cool marble while he’s busy nuzzling his neck against hers, kissing the skin at her pulse point while his hands trail up at the insides of her thighs, feeling the soft skin over her twitching muscles.

 “Baby,” she groans, tilting her head to the side so that her hair falls to her back and he has more access to her neck. It’s almost swan-like in its length when she does this, and he runs his tongue along the straining cords there, the scent of her perfume enthralling him. “Baby, we can’t. I’ve already got my hair and makeup done.”

 “I won’t touch your face or your hair.”

 “Well it’s no fun that way.”

 A chuckle passes through his lips and his hands move from her thighs, painstakingly slowly up her sides while he listens to her breathing deepen, hitching when his thumbs run over both of her nipples in a gentle caress.

 “Oh,” she gasps when he pinches her, and the sound goes straight through him just like the blush now gracing her chest. She’s watching his every movement, every inch that his hand moves or every path that his tongue traces until his lips are ghosting against hers. She chases after his lips after he lingers there for too long, but he jerks up to kiss her nose in that moment. “You’re so annoying,” she laughs before she reaches up and runs her hands through his hair, the feeling of her nails scratching at his scalp causing him to gasp as well.

 “You still love me though.”

 “Always.”

 He dips his head to kiss her for real before running his lips down the concave between her breasts before reaching her stomach, dipping his tongue into her belly button so that she has to brace herself on her hands behind her, a folded sweater falling to the floor. When his lips reach the lace, he looks up to see her nod before pulling her forward on the countertop so that her ass is on the edge while he hooks his fingers into the lace to pull them off her legs.

 He takes his time, even if they really don’t have any, kissing up the inside of both of her thighs before kissing her mound, building her up as quickly as he can, her whimpers just urging him on while he teases at her, licking long, flat stripes through her folds and circling her bundle of nerves until her whimpers cease and her back arches, her release hitting her while he eases her through it.

 “That’s not what I was expecting today,” she sighs as she pulls him up to kiss him, her lips rough as she molds their faces together, her makeup obviously be damned, “but I’m glad even if I am going to be slightly sweaty.”

 “I think they call that glowing.”

 She laughs against him, pushing at his shoulders until he gets the hint and backs up, helping her off the counter with her legs still slightly shaky.

 “This was both a brilliant and horrible idea because,” she shuffles through a draw before slipping into a different set of lingerie while going to unzip the garment bag with her dress, the black material catching the light, “while it was amazing for me, we are officially out of time. And I know for a fact that your tux pants are tight, so you’ve got to get rid of your problem, babe.”

 His chuckle is mixed with a groan as he turns around from her to take his tux in the bedroom and get dressed while he calms himself down. She was right. It was both a brilliant idea and a horrible idea, but he doesn’t regret it in the slightest as he gets dressed. He’s got everything on but his bow tie as it hangs loosely around his neck, white shirt unbuttoned at the top, when Emma comes out of the bathroom in a sinful black dress that hugs her top before billowing out at the waist, yards of tulle covering the slit that goes to her mid-thigh. She’s added that red lipstick she loves as well as some of the jewelry he’s given her over the years.

 “You look beautiful, Emma,” he compliments as she sits down on the bed to slip on her heels, buckling the straps as she smiles over at him.

 “Thank you.” She rises to come stand before him, her palms running up his chest until they land at his undone bow tie. She ties it for him, continuously having to restart because she’s never quite satisfied with how it looks until she finally gets it right, harrumphing in light of her success. “You look handsome. Very dapper and dashing and one hundred percent like you should dress like this more often.”

 “Yes, black tie around the house all of the time,” he chuckles before taking her hand and guiding her downstairs, the slight train of her dress trailing on the hardwood enough that he scoops down to hold it for her.

 He and Emma, along with Ruby and Mary Margaret load into a car and make their way to Buckingham with David meeting them there. He has to enter separately from Emma, so he leaves her be to go and join his parents and his brother, Abigail not attending as a part of her maternity leave, so that the four of them can wait in a sitting room until all of the guests have arrived and they can make their entrance. He’s always found this to be a weird tradition, entering a room at official events through order of succession so that his father enters last, but some traditions do not fall to the side, and this is one of them.  

 Once they enter the ballroom, he makes his rounds through all of the people he’s obligated to speak to, government officials, foreign diplomats, the occasional celebrity who he is much more excited to see than the third cousin of the Prime Minister. Killian catches up with a few of his old university friends whose families were invited before he sees a flash of blonde hair in his peripheral only to have her come up to him and wrap her arms around his elbow as Robin regales the group with a story of Killian singing karaoke at a pub one drunken night.

 “Please tell me there’s a video of that,” Emma laughs, looking up at him, the black of her eyelashes highlighting the green of her eyes. She’s so beautiful that sometimes he cannot believe it, cannot believe that he gets to spend his days with her by his side.

 “Sadly it was before the time of everyone having an iPhone in their palms. I’m Robin,” he sticks his hand out to take Emma’s, “you must be the literal famous Emma Nolan.”

 “And you must be the famous through Killian’s stories, Robin Locksley.”

 Robin laughs at the two of them as Emma fishes for stories of Killian in his younger days before Killian eventually leads Emma to the dance floor as the music slows and the sounds of soft piano fills the room.

 “Are we going to just sway or am I going to embarrass myself by having to do a waltz or foxtrot or something where I don’t know what I’m doing?”

 “We’re simply going to sway, darling,” he answers as he pulls her into him and rests his hands around her waist. “But if we were to do one of those other dances, there’s only one rule.”

 “What?”

 “You pick a partner who knows what he’s doing.”

 “And that’s you?”

 “That’s me.”

 She laughs before resting her cheek on his shoulder, her hands resting at his lower back, and this is a wonderful night. Magical almost under the glistening lights of the towering Christmas trees and chandeliers tinted in silver lights that coat the room.

 When the song finishes, he leads her off the dance floor, finding an empty section off to the side so that he can speak without having to raise his voice.

 “Do you want a drink?”

 “Oh my goodness yes. I’ll meet you at the bar after I run to the restroom, okay?”

She gives him a sweet kiss before they part ways.

 “Two glasses of whatever wine you’re serving,” he tells the bartender before resting his back against the counter, watching as people mill around the room, some dancing, others eating, all talking.

 “Having a good time tonight?”

 He turns to see his father’s younger brother Albert standing at the bar to his right, nursing what looks to be a glass of whiskey. He didn’t even know they were serving whiskey tonight.

 “Aye, it’s a wonderful time. Everything is beautiful this year. Mum did a great job.”

 Albert laughs before putting his glass on the bar top and turning so that he’s completely facing Killian. His uncle has never resembled his father too much, hair too light and eyes too dark, and even if Albert also grew up as the so-called other spare to the heir, Killian has never found comfort in speaking to him.

 “You know, Killian,” Albert drawls, “when you brought these people around for your birthday, I thought it was just a phase. And then you released that statement, and I was sure that you’d lost your mind.”

 “Uncle, you’ve had too much to drink tonight.”

 “Just the one glass. I’m perfectly sober. Your father, my brother, must be always inebriated though. He’s gone soft, letting you bring your flings to these events. And how rude of you to take the street trash to the hospital for Elizabeth’s birth. Weren’t you taught anything by those tutors and excellent schools you received while my children got your table scraps?”

 “What is your fucking problem?”

 “What is yours? We are a monarchy. We do not associate with the common whores like you have been.”

 Killian’s jaw ticks as he tries to regulate his breathing, regulate his anger. All he wants to do is break Albert’s bloody nose, but he cannot do that. They are in a room full of people, photographers and journalists included, and it would be unwise to assault his uncle no matter how satisfying it would be or how much he deserves it.

 He really fucking deserves it.

 “Oh yes,” Emma spits, and shit, when did she get here? “I am a common whore, using my vagina and womanly wiles to seduce the prince so that I can have his money and his power. Because isn’t that what I’ve always been, a lying American criminal?”

 “Emma,” Killian warns, grabbing onto her hand before she snatches it away from him.

 Albert doesn’t say anything else, his heavy breathing increasing as his dark eyes stare into Emma like she’s an antelope and he’s the lion.

 “Lass, you don’t belong here. I’d suggest you remember where you come from.”

 “The only people who don’t belong here are the assholes who think they’re better than someone just because their parents happen to be royalty.”

 “That by its very definition makes me better, makes Killian better, than you.”

 “Fuck you.”

 “You’d like to do that, wouldn’t you, Ms. Nolan?”

 Killian’s not sure if he or Emma are going to punch Albert first, but when he sees Emma’s hand flinch at her side, he reaches to squeeze her side as a silent encouragement not to do anything, relieved that she doesn’t snatch it away from him again. Neither of them get the chance because suddenly Liam is in between the two of them and Albert with his main security detail behind him.

 “Albert,” Liam sterns, his eyes cloudy with irritation. “Get the hell out of here. You’re not welcome if you say things like that, you sod.”

 “I was here before the two of you were ever born, and all you’ve done is shame this family, especially your spare. I would have never been this disgraceful.”

 “You’re being infinitely more disgraceful than Killian has ever been, you prick.”

 Albert is discreetly guided away, and Killian thanks Liam, wanting to discuss what the hell just happened, but he can practically feel Emma fuming beside him, her hands clenching and unclenching as she tries to calm herself down while he does the same.

 “Killian,” she grits, not bothering to look at him, “I would suggest that you take me to your room here right now before I do something else that I’m not supposed to do.”

 He guides her out of the ballroom, through hallways and corridors until they reach the private part of the palace. When they get to the grand staircase that leads upstairs to his room, Emma stops to take off her heels, using him as a base to steady herself as she shrinks four inches right in front of him before picking up the bottom of her dress and walking up the stairs like she has any idea where she’s going while he watches her, frozen in his spot as his mind runs wild.

 “Love,” he calls out while trying to track her down, taking two steps at a time and then jogging as she completely passes the door to his room. “Emma, hey. Emma.”

 “What?” she whips around, her hands running through her perfectly coiffed hair before she slaps her hands against her thighs and starts pacing again. “What could you possibly have to say to me right now?”

 “I’m sorry. I want to say I’m sorry.”

 “What the hell are you sorry for?”

 “Um, maybe my asshole of an uncle and the former assholes that were my father and brother. And then maybe just all of the collective assholes all over the world that are full of shit and apparently feel the need to pass that shit onto you.”

 She stops her pacing when she gets directly in front of him, her head directly under his chin as she looks up at him with much more kindness than she should be capable of expressing.

 “First of all, don’t say sorry again. I don’t want to hear it.”

 “But Emma – ”

 “No,” she raises her hand, “stop. I am fucking livid right now, but in no way am I livid at you or with you or the fact that I’m only in this situation because I’m with you. I’m pissed that someone thinks they have any right to not only insult me like that, but to also have the gall to insult you. I mean, damn. Does the list of assholes never end?”

 “I think we produce them in bulk.”

 A bitter chuckle passes through her lips before she wraps her arms around his waist and deflates, the anger rushing out of her and simmering down to irritation that could still pack a punch if she wanted it to. He does the same, embracing her before he nuzzles his head against the top of her hair and simply holds her in the middle of an ornate hallway in a ball gown and a tuxedo looking every bit like the magical fairytale couple they claim not to be.

 Magic comes with a price in the same way that privilege does and running away from balls to stand shoeless in a hallway may very well be one payment in a line of many.

 “I just can’t believe our night has turned out like this. This was supposed to be a good night. We get dressed up, dance for more than one song, I get to take that suit off of you to celebrate you coming home, and now we’re hiding away so that we don’t cause a scene after being basically stepped on and then spit upon.”

 “I know,” he exhales into her hair, tugging her closer to his chest and pressing his fingers into the small of her back. Trying to bring back some of the light to the evening because he won’t let this night be ruined, he changes the subject. “Do you want to see my childhood room?”

 “You have no idea.”

 He guides her back down the hallway until they come to his door, and the smile on her face is more genuine than any that he’s seen since the incident at the bar. He’s going to have to deal with that later, with Albert and any underlying hostility with Emma that still runs in the family. He doesn’t expect everyone to accept her with open arms. He doesn’t even expect them to accept him with open arms. But as long as the ones who matter, his immediate family who he wants to accept Emma and to love her, he couldn’t give a fuck what the others think…as long as they don’t think it out loud in front of Emma again.

 Not in front of him again either. He’s having to contain his fury right now in an attempt to salvage this night.

 “These books all seem very prim and proper and not at all you,” Emma quips as she runs her fingers along the spines, stopping every now and then to look at a picture frame or trinket that adorns the shelves along with the books.

 “I’ve got a different collection underneath the bed, but check the Anna Karenina.”

 She does, only to find the cutout with the flask inside. When she pops it open, her lips tug downward, and she was obviously hoping for there to still be something in there. They never did get their drinks earlier.

 “This is much more you,” she laughs, holding it up before putting it back in the book with the utmost care. She pauses, obviously running over something in her mind. “Do we need to go back to the gala? People will notice that you’re gone.”

 “I don’t care.”

 “What if I said that I wanted another dance?”

 “Well,” he begins before making his way over to the closet, shuffling through a cabinet before finding an actual, literal cd player, “we could always dance to this.”

 “No,” she giggles, and at least she’s still capable of having a good time, “there’s no way that’ll work.”

 “Only one way to find out.”

 He plugs in the player in an outlet on the wall before sounds of, and he’s only slightly mortified by this, the Spice Girls comes through the shoddy speakers.

 “May I have this dance, milady?”

 She laughs before nodding her head and placing her hands in his. He moves her from side to side, spinning her around in silly circles that he’d never be able to do downstairs. She laughs the entire time, her chest visibly moving, and he does the same. This night could have turned into an undeniable shit show, and while he’s sure that shit show hasn’t reached its conclusion, he hopes it has for now.

 He just doesn’t want Emma to be upset, even if she has every right to walk around this place kicking and screaming.

 When they make it back downstairs some of the crowd has filtered out, and the only people who really seemed to notice their absence were their families.

 “Did you guys really leave a party this fancy to go do it in a coat closet or something?”

 “Rubes,” Emma laughs, glancing over to see that her parents aren’t paying any attention to this conversation. “What have we said about those kind of comments?”

 “Sex is a very healthy part of life, my darling Emma Nolan. And you two are so hot that anybody who believes you’re not sharing a bed has lost their mind.”

 “Well, of course, I am a common whore after all.”

 “Hey,” Killian grabs her arms and holds her so that he’s sure she’s looking at him, “you know nothing about that is true.”

 “Emma,” Ruby questions, “what the hell are you talking about?”

 “Nothing, Rubes.”

 “Ems, it’s obviously something. You don’t make bitterly sarcastic jokes like that if you’re fine. You’re upset about something.”

 She shakes her head before turning to Ruby and squeezing her bicep. “We’ll talk about it later, okay?”

 He doesn’t miss the look Ruby gives Emma, and he definitely doesn’t miss the look Ruby gives him.

 “Darling, why don’t you go dance with your dad? I think I’m going to take Ruby for a spin?”

 “Well, aren’t I the luckiest girl at the ball getting to dance with a prince?” Ruby jokes as he leads her onto the dance floor, looking over his shoulder to make sure that Emma has found David. Sure enough she has her head resting on David’s shoulder while they sway to the music.

 “Ruby?”

 “Yeah?”

 “Does Emma talk to you about everything that’s gone on? I know you see it all because you don’t shield yourself away from the media, but does she talk about how she’s feeling about things?”

 “Most of the time, yes.”

 “She’s doing okay, right?”

 “I mean, she’s had some all out rages over some things, but Emma’s a badass, even when she’s vulnerable. Maybe especially when she’s vulnerable.”

 “Too true, lass,” he laments before spinning her around and pulling her back to him. “I simply want her to be okay, to be happy.”

 “She is. You just have some assholes in your family. Plus all of those other assholes that open their mouths when they should be keeping them closed.”

 Asshole is a popular word tonight, and it shouldn’t be.

 “I just worry about her.”

 “She does the same to you.” Ruby urges him to spin her again, the bottom of her dress slightly moving with the motion. “I think the two of you going away is going to do wonders.”

 He pulls Ruby in closer so that his lips are close to her ear for one moment. “I’m going to ask her to marry me on the trip.”

 “Well, fuck, man,” Ruby whispers despite her usually loud nature, “finally.”

 He laughs, and he can hear the music winding down around them. “It’s not been that long, just six months really since all of this started.”

 “It’s been six years.”

 He doesn’t say anything else, hugging Ruby when the dance is over before finding Emma and taking her home.

 The next few days pass quickly, and before he knows it Christmas Eve has arrived, and he’s loading into a train carriage for Sandringham with Emma, David, and Mary Margaret. They’re technically breaking many a protocol by the three of them attending the Christmas celebrations, even if it’s only the private ones, but he still cannot believe that his parents willingly made the offer for the Nolans to join them for Christmas.

 It’s not too long of a train ride, and when they arrive at the estate, Liam and his family in the next cart over from them, he can feel the awe running through Emma and her parents. His family is a lot to take in for many a reason, but stepping foot on the grounds of the estate for the first time is something that would put awe in anyone who didn’t grow up in palaces and sprawling country estates. He simply reaches down to hold Emma’s hand, squeezing her palm through their gloves, as they all walk into the front doors, thankful for there to be no cameras awaiting their arrival this year.

 Killian hands off the suitcase of gifts for the extended family to one of their butlers, noting to catch up with all of the staff later this afternoon, before he guides David and Mary Margaret to their suite, dropping them off and promising to pick them up for lunch before taking Emma to their own suite.

 Everything is more relaxed here, furniture far lass ornate and much more akin to that of a normal home. Well, as close to normal as they can get. The uniqueness of the estate comes from the way everything is draped in reds and golds for the holidays, the smell of freshly baked pie and apple cider somehow always permeating throughout the grounds.

 The lunch and afternoon tea are much more casual affairs than the dinner tonight, and he leaves Emma to rest in their room, letting her know that she can feel free to wander around the grounds or go visit Abigail and the kids, before calling his father to see where he is at that moment. He finds him in one of the sitting rooms, book in his hands and cup of tea sitting on the side table, exactly how he would portray his father if he had to paint a portrait of the man.

 “Happy Christmas Eve, Killian,” Brennan greets before marking his spot in his book and placing it on the side table next to the cup of tea.

 “Happy Christmas Eve.” Killian sits in the armchair across from his father, leaning forward and running his hands over his face before he begins what he came here for. “Is Albert coming today?”

 “Unfortunately, yes. I’d tried to convince him to go somewhere else, even offered up one of the other estates, but he and his family insisted that they belonged here today.”

 “Did you talk to him about what happened at the gala?”

 “Yes.”

 “And?”

 “He didn’t seem the slightest bit remorseful, and I know it’s because he and I are cut from the same cloth. He simply never had someone tell him that he was being a certifiable prick all of the time. He didn’t have you to show him the error of his ways.”

 Killian smiles before leaning forward and placing his head in his hands, elbows perched on his knees. “I just don’t know what to do, Dad. It’s like we fight one demon and then another one pops up out of nowhere. I mean, first it was you and Liam, and then Neal. All of the press. And then we finally get over all of that, and more comes from this family. I mean, were we all born with sodding asshole DNA? Is there not one of us who hasn’t had a stick shoved up our ass in the last few decades?”

 “Probably not. Maybe just you. You’re the exception.”

 “What are we going to do, though? I’m going to be married to Emma.” He pauses, smile crossing his face for a small moment. “Hopefully. We’re going to get married, and she’ll never know when a family member will attack her character. Albert fucking called her a whore.”

 Brennan grimaces before running his fingers at his temples, seemingly trying to rub out a headache. “I know, son. I know. I’m going to figure it out somehow. Maybe have a talk with everyone. Maybe threaten to cut them off. It’s petty, but I can do that and it would hit them hard. I’d do that for the sake of you and Emma.”

 “Thank you. Truly.”

 “She’s special to you, and she’s special to your mother and I as well. And one day, hopefully as you said, she’ll be a senior member of this family whether Albert likes it or not.”

 His family is cordial at their lunch, Albert purposely seated far away from Emma and her parents, and he only sees Emma tense once when she makes unintentional eye contact with the man. It’s a nice time, one of his favorite parts of their Christmas celebrations, but after tea and opening their friendly, gag gifts, they all play a game of friendly (or not so friendly depending on the level of competitiveness each person possess) football. He and Liam always lead separate teams, picking their members from the family and staff each year in turn. Liam, the bastard, gets to pick first this year, and to everyone’s surprise, he picks Emma first.

 It might not be to Emma’s surprise because when she walks to stand next to Liam, she winks at Killian before wrapping her arm around Liam’s shoulder like to two of them are just the best of pals, thick as thieves.

 He feels like the wool was pulled over his eyes.

 He doesn’t mind at all.

 Emma is surprisingly good, her fondness for running helping her even if she’s always claimed not to be too athletically skilled, and she and Liam are kicking his team’s butt. There aren’t enough young people on his team, and try as David might, he’s nothing compared to his daughter’s skills right now.

 At one point Emma scores a goal on Killian, and Liam lifts her in the air and spins her around while Killian is left standing in his spot with his arms on his hips.

 When the game is over, Killian’s body slick with sweat and his confidence and team totally defeated, Emma makes her way over to him and wraps her arms around his neck, giddy grin on her face as she smiles up at him and he looks down at her with fondness, hands finding purchase on her hips.

 “So I just kicked you ass, babe,” she laughs before kissing the underside of his jaw, her lips as soft as ever against the hair there.

 “Next year you’re going to be on my side. I pick before Liam, and you, Emma Nolan, are going to be my first pick.”

 “Yeah?”

 “Always.”

 They’ve got a bit of free time between the game and their formal dinner, so after showering and slipping into comfortable clothes before later donning suits and dresses, he and Emma take the time to exchange their own gifts with each other. He’s not the best at gift giving, knowing that he’s more comfortable showing his love and affection through words and actions rather than items, but he does rather like giving things to Emma simply to see the smile that graces her face when she loves something.

 They dress for dinner, Emma in another beautiful gown, and he’s not sure he’ll ever get used to her being this acclimated to his life and all of the traditions and customs the his family partakes in. It’s so different than her family and the traditions he’s partaken in with the Nolans for the last few Christmas seasons, but traditions can merge, even if some of them are royal ones.

 Everything goes perfectly fine at dinner, the courses served and the conversation flowing like the wine, and there’s something to be said for small miracles like Emma and her parents being able to enjoy a Christmas celebration without something chasing at their heels and nipping at their necks.

 No one can retire to bed until his father does, and Brennan seems to have inhaled vats of caffeine today, laughing and drinking and keeping everyone entertained by stories of his younger days mixed in with tales of both Liam and Killian as children. It’s far past midnight, his suit becoming incredibly uncomfortable and his eyes becoming heavy. He can tell everyone else is beginning to feel the same way, and when Emma drapes herself over his lap and buries her head in his shoulder, he knows that she’s struggling to stay awake.

 “Are you okay, sweetheart?” He strokes her back, running his fingers across the bare skin exposed by her dress, the bones of her spine protruding from the way she’s hunched forward.

 “I really want your dad to go to bed so that we can go to bed. This dress makes me feel like I can’t move.”

 “You might not be able to move, love, but you cut quite the figure in that dress.”

 “I think it’s more that my bra is cutting me,” she chuckles against his neck, “but thank you.”

 His father does eventually retire to bed, and Killian doesn’t even want to think about how few hours he’s going to get to sleep before the Church Service in the morning, instead helping Emma out of her dress and taking the bobby pins out of her hair while she wipes away at her makeup. It’s a long process, and by the time they collapse onto the bed it’s much closer to sunrise than midnight.

 In the morning he quietly slips out of bed to get ready for the service, kissing Emma’s temple before he joins his family members on their walk to the church. He walks in behind Liam and Abigail, making sure to wave to the crowd that’s gathered and take some time to speak to a few of them. It’s bloody freezing outside, and these people have decided to spend their Christmas morning simply hoping to catch a glimpse of his family. He doesn’t understand it, but if he can bring Christmas cheer to someone by talking to them for a short moment, it’s legitimately the least he can do.

 When they return to Sandringham Emma and her parents are waiting in one of the sitting rooms, David and Mary Margaret laughing at Emma trying to adjust her fascinator on the top of her head since one is required for the ladies at lunch today. She’s been such a good sport about so many things, but he has a feeling it may all come undone by the red hat gracing her hair.

 “Hey,” he greets before placing his hands on her hips and pressing his lips against hers, “Happy Christmas, darling. Did you sleep well?”

 “I slept great, Killian. Thanks for asking,” David jests, laughing at his own joke.

 “Well you do need your beauty sleep, Dave.”

 “I slept fine,” Emma eventually answers before reaching up to adjust her hat again, her face forming a scowl that no one should have on Christmas. “Merry Christmas, babe.”

 “Emma,” Abigail laughs before handing Elizabeth off to Liam, the one-month old dressed to match her brother in shades of green, “come here. Let me fix this for you, honey.”

 “I just don’t understand how I’m supposed to get it situated on the side of my head.”

“Well that’s what hairdressers are for, but luckily for you I have years of experience doing this.” Abigail works with Emma’s hair for a little while longer before finally being satisfied with her work, harrumphing in satisfaction. “There. Now let’s eat.”

 That evening they retire to one of the great halls, projector set up on a wall that’s been removed of decorative weaponry that could still be used in a battle, and dining tables replaced with recliners and couches, piles of blankets and pillows kept in baskets at the hall entrances that people can grab before cuddling up into one of the seats. The extended family is invited for this part of the evening, so it’s a much more crowded affair than the last night, children tailing along with their parents and taking up the seats directly in front of the projector.

 “This is insane,” Emma whispers to him as they settle into one of the oversized recliners, both of them having changed into joggers and sweaters, Christmas-themed socks gracing Emma’s feet as she wiggles her toes to pull their blanket further down their legs.

 “Aye, it reminds me of celebrations with you family.”

 “Yeah, but with a much larger screen and a bigger selection of gourmet popcorn.”

 “There’s also hot chocolate.”

 “Where?” she gasps, hitting his shoulder as she moves from her position like she has to have the hot chocolate right now.

 “They’re going to bring it out to us once the movie starts.”

 She sighs before settling back down beside him, moving his arm so that it rests over her shoulder while her head rests on his. “What are we watching?”

 “It’s a wonderful life.”

 And despite everything, it is.

[hellodolly786-blog]

Best Orthopedic Dog Bed - Buyer Guide Reviews 2020

If your dog injured and getting older day by day, then it needs a calming bed. Older dogs are more sensitive and need sound sleep after day activity and running. Before getting an orthopedic dog bed you need research about, fundamental information like your puppy's age and weight will remain or variable. In addition to the more specific substance like your dog's sleeping fashion, should they run warm or want some warming up, if they chew things, are a nervous pee-er, or want to track mud into the home. Like choosing out a human bed, you will want to contemplate what makes your dog most comfy and which orthopedic dog beds are cozy. Together with the best orthopedic dog bed, you can provide your dog relief by many conditions like hip dysplasia, arthritis, joint, knee, and hock problem. We will also include a quick buying guide so that you may get some concept about what things to take into consideration before making a purchase. You should need to know about the correct size of your dog as well.

Why Use an Orthopedic Dog Bed?

Some older dogs are having joint and hock issues in their legs. Furthermore, in some cases, your pet dog got surgery of hip dysplasia. In that case, Orthopedic dog beds are the best answer. These beds give much-needed support to not just more extensive and older dogs, but for little dogs too. They have proven again and again to help dogs with joint arthritis and issues. Most breeds of dogs will get extensive support from this kind of beds, leading to a more well-rested puppy, particularly since they get up there in recent years. Almost all dog breeds of any age have some common issues (injuries), so they also can benefit from an orthopedic bed. Arthritis, ACL or CCL injury Hip dysplasia or back issue Joint and hock problems Bone or soft tissue injuries The sensitive dog need a comfortable orthopedic bed Before and after surgery However, even though your dog is still a puppy, they'll be given a lot of advantages throughout their daily life by employing an orthopedic bed. Many pet experts say about for the comfortability of your dog's Many pet parents do not recognize that their pet's bed has a significant influence on the pet's wellbeing," states Dr. Alison Birken of Florida's Victoria Park Animal Hospital. "Thin, flimsy, horizontal beds cause stress points which hurt tender joints, which makes it challenging to rest and more difficult to sleep soundly.

Importance of Ortho Beds for Senior Dogs

Otho beds are critical not only for senior dogs, but it can also help for child dogs for better sleep and warm surface. It has many features to make older canine comfy and cozy in their senior age. The following are popular features that are suitable for the senior breed. When canine reached one stage of age, their leg, knee joints getting weaker, and in that situation, they need a soft and comfortable surface to spent a more comfortable life.

Features of Orthopedic Beds

The following are the main features that are remarkable for the dog comfortability, and every owner of the dog needs to know about before getting a purchase. Memory foam on the ortho dog bed is highly comfortable and recommended by VET for every canine breed. That helps to reduce the pain from joints and make it easier for laying down and getting up. Orthopedic dog bed provide nine feet of square space for sleeping Safe and eco-friendly material used for ortho bed for the canine Make warmer your dog at the time of good sleep Reduce pain and inflammation at the time of sleep The water-resistant and anti-skid base that can be constant on floor Mildew, flea mold-resistant stuff used in these kinda bed Animal experts recommend it after surgery for a speedy recovery

Best 5 Orthopedic Dog Beds

Top 5 Best Ortho Dog Beds Reviews - Buyer Guide

Let's get started for complete information about the top Best 5 Orthopedic Beds Reviews for your canine. 1. Orthopedic Dog Bed Extra Comfortable (Overall Winner)

It has extra comfortable foam, and almost every breed of small and more significant dogs love the stuff, and they get sound sleep overnight without any disturbance. It is a dual-purpose bed and sofa beneficial for senior dogs. Its most important benifits is to reduces joint pain and enhances health & mobility for elderly dogs. Won't lose it's shaped and will last to contour to every and every crevice of your pet's body. Extra Comfy Cotton-Padded Rim pillow to immediately contour to your pet's neck and helps to continuous support and decompression for ailing necks and heads. It provides full complete body support to a puppy from head to paw. Cotton padded walls around developed to contour to the throat and head for optimal relaxation immediately. Non-slip rubber backing to keep the bed from slipping hardwood flooring and tile. Ultra-soft lace with a luxurious layout is a plus point that matches any home decor. Overall in my view, it's among the very best ortho bed for the puppy. I have seen in my surroundings mostly Great Dane owner having much interest to buy this special style calming orthopedic bed. 2. Ortho dog bed for the extra-large breed with HeadRest

It is very popular as per its headrest for dongs and also a perfect fit for the large breed that can be Great Dane and any other breed dog with any size. The Big Barker is a therapeutic ortho calming pets bed, distinctively designed to maintain dogs young for more, and to attract elderly dogs back to their very best. You will feel the difference once you put it on yourself. Its foam is durable, comfortable, and fulfills US standard criteria, emissions, and durability and continues to be examined by independent, accredited testing labs. That is the reason why Big Barker beds are used within Ryan Veterinary Hospital at the University of Pennsylvania. Big Barker's unique 3 phase foam structure envelops delicate joints in buttery comfort foam utilized in the outer layers. In contrast, the center layer offers resilient support and cubes pressure points from forcing to the hard floor beneath. Mostly people like due to distinctive shape that matches to each breed and each size of their dog. 3. Friends Forever Orthopedic Sofa Style Bed

It has solid stuff with pure anti-skid base waterproof can also perfect for two small size pets dogs. It designed using a soft, removable cover that's durable and machine-washable. It's possible to remove the cover with the pure metallic zippers and maintain your pet's bed tidy. Non-skid, non-slip underside, hair, and fur resistant cover are their most significant selling point. It may help your dog a good night's sleep with this luxurious, durable orthopedic bed. Made with soft mattress tier memory foam foundation, it's demonstrated to provide your dog with outstanding comfort, even for dogs who have joint pain and arthritis issues. Small size puppies are more inspired by this stuff because the pair of a pet could live comfortably. 4. Joint and hock relief Ortho Mattress

This particular kind of mattress bed has exceptional features high excellent memory foam, a water-resistant cover, plus a machine-washable top cover that goes over the water-resistant cover. It makes it simple to keep your dog's bed fresh and clean. Easily fight mishaps and keep your dog's bed looking and smelling fresh and clean. The zippered cover slides seamlessly for cleaning. The thick memory foam foundation supports your dog's joints and pressure points, which makes it suitable for all dogs, but especially people who have arthritis, recovering from surgery or suffering from other freedom problems. Most dogs love to play on this mattress because it has a straight surface. 5. Orthopedic Waterproof Memory Foam for Arthritis Relief

It's clean memory foam, which designed to adapt to a dog's body shapes, relieving the strain out of his aching joints. The bed is soft, yet firm enough that your dog will not have difficulty getting up out of it. Its Waterproof cover is washable and dryable, and the substance won't shrink from the procedure. We also designed our cover with a zipper that zips across two sides to make it much easier to put on and remove. It's easy for a dog to maintain this bed while sleep, No excess effort necessary to have a sweet sleep on it. It is easy to care while traveling somewhere very handy and portable. Things to remember while purchasing As such, you are providing your pet with an orthopedic bed that can give a whole lot of relief and relaxation. Even though there isn't any standard definition of precisely what constitutes an "orthopedic" dog bed, such beds ought to respond to and adequately encourage the dog's entire body, including the back and joints. A bed too small won't supply your dog enough room to lay down, even though a base too big can make your dog feel insecure. Consult the size graphs of different beds to pick the ideal size for the dog. Keep in mind the following size graphs while getting bed for your dog. dog’s weight = size of bed 1-10 lbs. = 18”L x 13”W 11-25 lbs. = 24”L x 18”W 26-30 lbs. = 30”L x 20”W 41-70 lbs. = 36”L x 23”W 71-90 lbs. = 42”L x 28”W 91-110 lbs. = 48”L x 30”W 1 lb. = .45 kg; 1 in. = 2.54 cm These dog beds possess hot hoods that allow dogs to float to a comfy cave. Avoid beds created from egg crate foam, higher memory fiberfill, convoluted foam, health grade hospital foam, higher density foam, batting, bamboo, recycled fiber, or polyester fiber. I expect it'll make sense before opting to buy the best orthopedic dog bed for your dog. Read the full article

[maximumlanguagepower]

Marine biology is the scientific study of organisms in the ocean or other marine bodies of water. Given that in biology many phyla, families and genera have some species that live in the sea and others that live on land, marine biology classifies species based on the environment rather than on taxonomy. Marine biology differs from marine ecology as marine ecology is focused on how organisms interact with each other and the environment, while biology is the study of the organisms themselves.

A large proportion of all life on Earth lives in the ocean. Exactly how large the proportion is unknown, since many ocean species are still to be discovered. The ocean is a complex three-dimensional world covering approximately 71% of the Earth’s surface. The habitats studied in marine biology include everything from the tiny layers of surface water in which organisms and abiotic items may be trapped in surface tension between the ocean and atmosphere, to the depths of the oceanic trenches, sometimes 10,000 meters or more beneath the surface of the ocean.

Specific habitats include coral reefs, kelp forests, seagrass meadows, the surrounds of seamounts and thermal vents, tidepools, muddy, sandy and rocky bottoms, and the open ocean (pelagic) zone, where solid objects are rare and the surface of the water is the only visible boundary. The organisms studied range from microscopic phytoplankton and zooplankton to huge cetaceans (whales) 30 meters (98 feet) in length.

“The water was tripping over itself, splashing and hypnotizing, and I tried to fix my mind on a chunk of it, like each little ripple was a life that began far away in a high mountain source and had traveled miles pushing forward until it arrived at this spot before my eyes, and now without hesitation that water-life was hurling itself over the cliff. I wanted my body in all that swiftness; I wanted to feel the slip and pull of the currents and be dashed and pummeled on the rocks below . . .” — Justin Torres (We the Animals)

Marine life is a vast resource, providing food, medicine, and raw materials, in addition to helping to support recreation and tourism all over the world. At a fundamental level, marine life helps determine the very nature of our planet. Marine organisms contribute significantly to the oxygen cycle, and are involved in the regulation of the Earth’s climate. Shorelines are in part shaped and protected by marine life, and some marine organisms even help create new land.

Many species are economically important to humans, including both finfish and shellfish. It is also becoming understood that the well-being of marine organisms and other organisms are linked in fundamental ways. The human body of knowledge regarding the relationship between life in the sea and important cycles is rapidly growing, with new discoveries being made nearly every day. These cycles include those of matter (such as the carbon cycle) and of air (such as Earth’s respiration, and movement of energy through ecosystems including the ocean). Large areas beneath the ocean surface still remain effectively unexplored. Early instances of the study of marine biology trace back to Aristotle (384–322 BC) who made several contributions which laid the foundation for many future discoveries and were the first big step in the early exploration period of the ocean and marine life. In 1768, Samuel Gottlieb Gmelin  published the Historia Fucorum, the first work dedicated to marine algae and the first book on marine biology to use the then new binomial nomenclature of Linnaeus. It included elaborate illustrations of seaweed and marine algae on folded leaves.The British naturalist Edward Forbes (1815–1854) is generally regarded as the founder of the science of marine biology.[9] The pace of oceanographic and marine biology studies quickly accelerated during the course of the 19th century.

Scientific Study of Organisms in The Ocean Marine biology is the scientific study of organisms in the ocean or other marine bodies of water.

[trippy60]

Marine biology is the scientific study of organisms in the ocean or other marine bodies of water. Given that in biology many phyla, families and genera have some species that live in the sea and others that live on land, marine biology classifies species based on the environment rather than on taxonomy. Marine biology differs from marine ecology as marine ecology is focused on how organisms interact with each other and the environment, while biology is the study of the organisms themselves.

A large proportion of all life on Earth lives in the ocean. Exactly how large the proportion is unknown, since many ocean species are still to be discovered. The ocean is a complex three-dimensional world covering approximately 71% of the Earth’s surface. The habitats studied in marine biology include everything from the tiny layers of surface water in which organisms and abiotic items may be trapped in surface tension between the ocean and atmosphere, to the depths of the oceanic trenches, sometimes 10,000 meters or more beneath the surface of the ocean.

Specific habitats include coral reefs, kelp forests, seagrass meadows, the surrounds of seamounts and thermal vents, tidepools, muddy, sandy and rocky bottoms, and the open ocean (pelagic) zone, where solid objects are rare and the surface of the water is the only visible boundary. The organisms studied range from microscopic phytoplankton and zooplankton to huge cetaceans (whales) 30 meters (98 feet) in length.

“The water was tripping over itself, splashing and hypnotizing, and I tried to fix my mind on a chunk of it, like each little ripple was a life that began far away in a high mountain source and had traveled miles pushing forward until it arrived at this spot before my eyes, and now without hesitation that water-life was hurling itself over the cliff. I wanted my body in all that swiftness; I wanted to feel the slip and pull of the currents and be dashed and pummeled on the rocks below . . .” — Justin Torres (We the Animals)

Marine life is a vast resource, providing food, medicine, and raw materials, in addition to helping to support recreation and tourism all over the world. At a fundamental level, marine life helps determine the very nature of our planet. Marine organisms contribute significantly to the oxygen cycle, and are involved in the regulation of the Earth’s climate. Shorelines are in part shaped and protected by marine life, and some marine organisms even help create new land.

Many species are economically important to humans, including both finfish and shellfish. It is also becoming understood that the well-being of marine organisms and other organisms are linked in fundamental ways. The human body of knowledge regarding the relationship between life in the sea and important cycles is rapidly growing, with new discoveries being made nearly every day. These cycles include those of matter (such as the carbon cycle) and of air (such as Earth’s respiration, and movement of energy through ecosystems including the ocean). Large areas beneath the ocean surface still remain effectively unexplored. Early instances of the study of marine biology trace back to Aristotle (384–322 BC) who made several contributions which laid the foundation for many future discoveries and were the first big step in the early exploration period of the ocean and marine life. In 1768, Samuel Gottlieb Gmelin  published the Historia Fucorum, the first work dedicated to marine algae and the first book on marine biology to use the then new binomial nomenclature of Linnaeus. It included elaborate illustrations of seaweed and marine algae on folded leaves.The British naturalist Edward Forbes (1815–1854) is generally regarded as the founder of the science of marine biology.[9] The pace of oceanographic and marine biology studies quickly accelerated during the course of the 19th century.

Scientific Study of Organisms in The Ocean Marine biology is the scientific study of organisms in the ocean or other marine bodies of water.

[orestepi]

Marine biology is the scientific study of organisms in the ocean or other marine bodies of water. Given that in biology many phyla, families and genera have some species that live in the sea and others that live on land, marine biology classifies species based on the environment rather than on taxonomy. Marine biology differs from marine ecology as marine ecology is focused on how organisms interact with each other and the environment, while biology is the study of the organisms themselves.

A large proportion of all life on Earth lives in the ocean. Exactly how large the proportion is unknown, since many ocean species are still to be discovered. The ocean is a complex three-dimensional world covering approximately 71% of the Earth’s surface. The habitats studied in marine biology include everything from the tiny layers of surface water in which organisms and abiotic items may be trapped in surface tension between the ocean and atmosphere, to the depths of the oceanic trenches, sometimes 10,000 meters or more beneath the surface of the ocean.

#gallery-0-5 { margin: auto; } #gallery-0-5 .gallery-item { float: left; margin-top: 10px; text-align: center; width: 33%; } #gallery-0-5 img { border: 2px solid #cfcfcf; } #gallery-0-5 .gallery-caption { margin-left: 0; } /* see gallery_shortcode() in wp-includes/media.php */

Specific habitats include coral reefs, kelp forests, seagrass meadows, the surrounds of seamounts and thermal vents, tidepools, muddy, sandy and rocky bottoms, and the open ocean (pelagic) zone, where solid objects are rare and the surface of the water is the only visible boundary. The organisms studied range from microscopic phytoplankton and zooplankton to huge cetaceans (whales) 30 meters (98 feet) in length.

“The water was tripping over itself, splashing and hypnotizing, and I tried to fix my mind on a chunk of it, like each little ripple was a life that began far away in a high mountain source and had traveled miles pushing forward until it arrived at this spot before my eyes, and now without hesitation that water-life was hurling itself over the cliff. I wanted my body in all that swiftness; I wanted to feel the slip and pull of the currents and be dashed and pummeled on the rocks below . . .” — Justin Torres (We the Animals)

Marine life is a vast resource, providing food, medicine, and raw materials, in addition to helping to support recreation and tourism all over the world. At a fundamental level, marine life helps determine the very nature of our planet. Marine organisms contribute significantly to the oxygen cycle, and are involved in the regulation of the Earth’s climate. Shorelines are in part shaped and protected by marine life, and some marine organisms even help create new land.

Many species are economically important to humans, including both finfish and shellfish. It is also becoming understood that the well-being of marine organisms and other organisms are linked in fundamental ways. The human body of knowledge regarding the relationship between life in the sea and important cycles is rapidly growing, with new discoveries being made nearly every day. These cycles include those of matter (such as the carbon cycle) and of air (such as Earth’s respiration, and movement of energy through ecosystems including the ocean). Large areas beneath the ocean surface still remain effectively unexplored. Early instances of the study of marine biology trace back to Aristotle (384–322 BC) who made several contributions which laid the foundation for many future discoveries and were the first big step in the early exploration period of the ocean and marine life. In 1768, Samuel Gottlieb Gmelin  published the Historia Fucorum, the first work dedicated to marine algae and the first book on marine biology to use the then new binomial nomenclature of Linnaeus. It included elaborate illustrations of seaweed and marine algae on folded leaves.The British naturalist Edward Forbes (1815–1854) is generally regarded as the founder of the science of marine biology.[9] The pace of oceanographic and marine biology studies quickly accelerated during the course of the 19th century.

Scientific Study of Organisms in The Ocean Marine biology is the scientific study of organisms in the ocean or other marine bodies of water.

[wwwpievepelagoinfo]

Marine biology is the scientific study of organisms in the ocean or other marine bodies of water. Given that in biology many phyla, families and genera have some species that live in the sea and others that live on land, marine biology classifies species based on the environment rather than on taxonomy. Marine biology differs from marine ecology as marine ecology is focused on how organisms interact with each other and the environment, while biology is the study of the organisms themselves.

A large proportion of all life on Earth lives in the ocean. Exactly how large the proportion is unknown, since many ocean species are still to be discovered. The ocean is a complex three-dimensional world covering approximately 71% of the Earth’s surface. The habitats studied in marine biology include everything from the tiny layers of surface water in which organisms and abiotic items may be trapped in surface tension between the ocean and atmosphere, to the depths of the oceanic trenches, sometimes 10,000 meters or more beneath the surface of the ocean.

#gallery-0-5 { margin: auto; } #gallery-0-5 .gallery-item { float: left; margin-top: 10px; text-align: center; width: 33%; } #gallery-0-5 img { border: 2px solid #cfcfcf; } #gallery-0-5 .gallery-caption { margin-left: 0; } /* see gallery_shortcode() in wp-includes/media.php */

Specific habitats include coral reefs, kelp forests, seagrass meadows, the surrounds of seamounts and thermal vents, tidepools, muddy, sandy and rocky bottoms, and the open ocean (pelagic) zone, where solid objects are rare and the surface of the water is the only visible boundary. The organisms studied range from microscopic phytoplankton and zooplankton to huge cetaceans (whales) 30 meters (98 feet) in length.

“The water was tripping over itself, splashing and hypnotizing, and I tried to fix my mind on a chunk of it, like each little ripple was a life that began far away in a high mountain source and had traveled miles pushing forward until it arrived at this spot before my eyes, and now without hesitation that water-life was hurling itself over the cliff. I wanted my body in all that swiftness; I wanted to feel the slip and pull of the currents and be dashed and pummeled on the rocks below . . .” — Justin Torres (We the Animals)

Marine life is a vast resource, providing food, medicine, and raw materials, in addition to helping to support recreation and tourism all over the world. At a fundamental level, marine life helps determine the very nature of our planet. Marine organisms contribute significantly to the oxygen cycle, and are involved in the regulation of the Earth’s climate. Shorelines are in part shaped and protected by marine life, and some marine organisms even help create new land.

Many species are economically important to humans, including both finfish and shellfish. It is also becoming understood that the well-being of marine organisms and other organisms are linked in fundamental ways. The human body of knowledge regarding the relationship between life in the sea and important cycles is rapidly growing, with new discoveries being made nearly every day. These cycles include those of matter (such as the carbon cycle) and of air (such as Earth’s respiration, and movement of energy through ecosystems including the ocean). Large areas beneath the ocean surface still remain effectively unexplored. Early instances of the study of marine biology trace back to Aristotle (384–322 BC) who made several contributions which laid the foundation for many future discoveries and were the first big step in the early exploration period of the ocean and marine life. In 1768, Samuel Gottlieb Gmelin  published the Historia Fucorum, the first work dedicated to marine algae and the first book on marine biology to use the then new binomial nomenclature of Linnaeus. It included elaborate illustrations of seaweed and marine algae on folded leaves.The British naturalist Edward Forbes (1815–1854) is generally regarded as the founder of the science of marine biology.[9] The pace of oceanographic and marine biology studies quickly accelerated during the course of the 19th century.

Scientific Study of Organisms in The Ocean Marine biology is the scientific study of organisms in the ocean or other marine bodies of water.

[heartbreaker-club]

Best Bed Frame for Heavy Person – Extra Strong Bed Frame for 2018

If you are overweight, lack of enough sleep may make your health worse and so the best bed frame for heavy person can come in very handy.

Since they are specially designed to deliver ultimate support and durability for a plus-size person, heavy duty king size bed frames ensure you sleep quickly and sleep for longer.

And soon, you will be reaping the many sweet fruits of healthy sleep.

Now, I will go straight. Shopping for a sturdy king size bed may not be everyone’s cup of tea

Because of the plethora of choices available, you may find yourself hopping from one store to another yet still end with a so-so ‘strong bed frame’

But don’t mind- this post will cover all there is to know about plus size bed bed frames for heavy people

However, let see why I’m saying that a sturdy king size bed frame is a real deal.

Benefits of using the best bed frame for heavy person

To sleep well, heavy guys require additional support and this is not available in standard bed frames. Luckily, all heavy duty beds offer better support and strength.

These won’t budge even with as much as 800 pounds, so they are safer.

A heavy duty bed frame can also be used by your regular weight friends so they are more versatile

Disadvantages of a strong single bed frame

Perhaps the only major weakness is that a strong king size bed frame may cost more.

Common types of bed frames

While there’s a lot more, I will concentrate on the 2 dominant types of bed frames;

Box Spring Bed Frames

Bed frames with typical box springs have some advantages.

They increase your bed’s height ensuring your mattress doesn’t sag which in turn makes it last longer.

They have some space below the bed which you can use as storage capacity.

However, Box springs, don’t last forever, though you can prolong its life by turning it every few months

Platform Bed Frames

Platform bed frames don’t use box springs. This automatically decreases their height and makes them a bit difficult to get in/out of your bed.

However, for many people, low profile beds provide a more peaceful sleeping environment.

In addition, since they don’t require box spring, they are not that expensive.

And how much weight can a platform bed hold? In reality, platform bed frames hold as much as box springs so you have nothing to fear.

5 most recommended best bed frames for heavy person

As our tradition, we decided to save you the hassle of digging for the best bed frame for heavy person

And after lots of research and inquiries, we arrived at the top 5 best-selling heavy duty bed frames.

Here is our best bed frame for heavy person review

Zinus 14 Inch Elite SmartBase Mattress Foundation

This king-sized heavy duty bed frame doesn’t need a box spring and seems to have it all.

Valuable under the bed storage space, solid support, a headboard, optimal height …name it.

Then, you can easily move it anywhere – including through tight stairs thanks to its folding design.

Finally, you finish its tool-free assembly in a matter of minutes.

All in all, this is a gold-level heavy duty bed frame!

Features

14 inches high

Steel bed frame

Tool-free assembly

Folding design

Smartbase headboard brackets needed to add to the headboard

Pros

Assembly is so easy

very solid

Quite a nice height

Spacious storage space

Nicely finished

Cons

The frame may rust in the long run

Classic Brands Hercules Heavy-Duty 14-Inch Platform Metal Bed Frame

Sleeping has never been easier than the way it is with this highly versatile heavy duty metal bed frame.

It really gives you options.

For one, you can use it with or minus a box spring.

Then, it supports all types of mattresses- innerspring, latex and even memory foam mattresses

Plus, it has a Flat, rigid surface that superbly protects your mattress- whichever you pick.

Still, its legs are capped so your floors remain protected from scratches even when moving it

Moving on, it’s Available in all the standard bed sizes. This means it works with every type of bed.

Finally, its folding design makes it transportation a breeze.

Features

Heavy-duty steel frame construction

Folding platform metal bed

Used with/without a box spring and/or foundation

Optional headboard and footboard

14 inches high

13 inches storage beneath

capped legs

tool-less assemble

Pros

Works with all mattresses

Easily to transport

Reasonably high

Very durable

Easiest set up

Protects your floor

Cons

May start squeaking after prolonged use

Olee Sleep 14 Inch T-3000 Heavy Duty Steel Slat

This is one of the sturdiest sturdy king size bed.

It’s so strong such that it comfortably supports the heaviest posh mattresses.

In fact, it happily takes in whatever weight you throw at it- and you will never hear it protesting.

Supporting up to 1200 lbs., this is a truly high weight capacity bed frame.

And to ensure that your Mattress doesn’t slide or wobble, you embed nicely in the frame

Features

Steel slats support

All assembly tools and screws included

No box spring needed

Mattress is embedded

Maximum weight: 2200lbs

Hard plastic caps on feet

Pros

Mattress will never sag

Looks very nice

Feels super solid

The slats are super strong.

Ample storage underneath

Never scratches your floor

Cons

The underneath storage can’t fit totes

Malouf Heavy-Duty Adjustable Metal Bed with Center Support & Rollers

Coming with extra-wide rolling wheels, and enhanced central support, moving this stable king strong bed base is a piece of cake!

And to make it even more stable, the manufacturer fits in a pair of rollers lock that makes sure it doesn’t move as you get in or out.

The other major advantage of this heavy duty bed frame is that you can always adjust it to fit your favorite mattress- be it full, queen, or a twin mattress.

In terms of your safety, its universal headboard brackets can fit with most headboards so you will always end up with a very secure bed

And it’s not mean on looks- the gunmetal black matte coating keeps it looking awesome for years on end.

Features

Adjustable mattress sizing

Four extra-wide rollers

Center support glide

2 rollers lock

Extra center support bar

Tri-support braces

Universal headboard brackets

Gunmetal black powder coating

Pros

Great price

Easy assembly

The rolling wheels work excellently

Easy set-up

Has extra support

It adjusts to fit any mattress

You can create a designer look

Cons

Not very big

Sturdy but struggles with heaviest guys

Kings Brand Furniture 7-Leg Adjustable Metal Bed Frame

If you are looking for out of this world support, then you don’t need to look beyond this.

With 7 heavy duty Legs, solid steel metal standing, one-of-a-kind central support, freewheeling rug rollers with wonderful lockers, this is an elite heavy duty king size bed frame

Whether Working with full, queen, twin, full XL, and twin XL size beds, this adjustable bed frame is an epitome of strength, durability, quality, and resilience.

Then, as you would expect with one of the best plus size bed bed frames for heavy people, it’s easy to move and takes less than ten minutes to put up!

Features

7-leg adjustable metallic frame

Strong center support

Constructed with rolling wheels (fitted with locks)

Headboard mounts

Works with full, queen, twin, full XL, and twin XL size beds.

Pros

Awesome support

No squeaks or wobbles

Top level durability

Fully adjustable

Lovable movement

Very well constructed

Cons

Can’t work with a king-sized bed

You Might Also Like: Best Air Mattress For Heavy People

What to look out for when buying the best bed frame for heavy person

Let’s now briefly highlight the factors that you should have at the back of your mind when selecting a heavy duty king bed frame

Here they are:

Design and style

We saw that you have a choice between spring box and platform bed frames. And you already know the pros and cons of each.

Ease of Assembly

I am sure you want a bed frame that you can set up within minutes. We rejected some bed frames because they had very confusing assembly instructions or were missing some setup accessories such as screws.

How much weight can a king size bed hold?

Most of the big beds for big people have their maximum weight clearly marked on the packaging.

You can rest assured that picking a frame with a lower capacity than your weight is risky considering that it can even crash while you are sleeping.

So, go for a very sturdy bed frame

Your comfort

What exactly are your actual needs as far as your comfort is concerned? While it may take longer before you nail it, bear in mind that the best king strong bed base should be strong enough to hold your weight, without creaking.

Furthermore, it should have some padding and be tall enough to comfortably fit your giant frame. Accessories like headboards also add to your comfort

Mobility

It should be light enough to move around especially if you are a fan of outdoor activities like camping.

Storage capacity

A bed makes you more organized if it has some storage space where you can keep a reading material, phone, and some other personal items

Looks

You would hate to land an ugly heavy duty king size bed frame as it nullifies your best efforts at making your living space attractive for guests.

Bottom Line

From our best bed frame for heavy person write-up, it’s clear that you need not struggle with sleep problems just because you are overweight.

We have seen that a high weight capacity bed frame will sort you.

Then, from our best bed frame for heavy people review, you got some great insights into what you can expect with the very best heavy duty mattress frame

And with that, we hope you are now ready to get it right.

All the best mate.

The post Best Bed Frame for Heavy Person – Extra Strong Bed Frame for 2018 appeared first on Plus Size Expert.

source https://www.plussizeexpert.com/best-bed-frame-for-heavy-person/

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New Post has been published on Biology Dictionary

New Post has been published on https://biologydictionary.net/foot/

Foot

Foot Definition

The foot is a part of vertebrate anatomy which serves the purpose of supporting the animal’s weight and allowing for locomotion on land. In humans, the foot is one of the most complex structures in the body. It is made up of over 100 moving parts – bones, muscles, tendons, and ligaments designed to allow the foot to balance the body’s weight on just two legs and support such diverse actions as running, jumping, climbing, and walking.

Because they are so complicated, human feet can be especially prone to injury. Strains, sprains, tendonitis, torn ligaments, broken bones, fallen arches, bunions, corns, and plantar warts can all occur. Here we will talk more about the anatomy of the human foot and its many moving parts.

The complexity of the human foot may stem from the fact that it evolved from hand-like, grasping feet like those we see in apes today. Our ancient ancestors were tree-dwellers, and needed to be able to hang onto branches tightly with all four limbs. This caused them to evolve extraordinarily intricate hands and feet, which were capable of grasping, rotating, and gripping with dexterity that engineers are still trying to replicate in fields like robotics today.

Scientists are not sure why our ancestors eventually developed to walk upright, which caused the “fingers” of our feet to fuse and create a flat surface for walking on. It may have been because our ancestors began living on treeless grasslands, where standing tall to be able to see over the grass was more important than climbing. It could also have been because, as we began using tools, the ability to walk on two feet while using our hands to carry items became important.

Feet are present in other species too; especially mammals, birds, reptiles, and amphibians. Invertebrates such as mollusks and insects may have “feet” that they use to walk or move, but these are not complex bony structures like those found in vertebrates.

Here we will discuss the anatomy of the human foot, and some things that can go wrong to cause injuries or disorders.

These descriptions are meant for informational purposes only. You should always see a doctor if foot injury is suspected, as prompt and proper treatment can make for a faster, easier recovery! It is especially important to see a doctor if a suspected foot injury involves numbness, bleeding, or inability to move the foot, as these may be signs of serious complications.

Proper diagnosis and treatment takes a trained professional; improper diagnosis and treatment may lead to longer-lasting problems!

Foot Anatomy

The foot contains 26 bones, 33 joints, and over 100 tendons, muscles, and ligaments. This may sound like overkill for a flat structure that supports your weight, but you may not realize how much work your foot does!

The foot is responsible for balancing the body’s weight on two legs – a feat which modern roboticists are still trying to replicate. This requires strong, subtle muscles which can keep the foot standing firm even as we move our body’s weight around at different positions and angles.

The many bones work together to allow to allow this fine, delicate movement by subtly shifting inside the foot. They also allow us to perform intricate actions such as standing, climbing, and “grasping” at the ground with our feet on moving or uneven surfaces.

Here we will discuss the most important parts of the anatomy of the foot, and some injuries and disorders that can occur when these parts are damaged.

Of note, here we will make general statements about how different foot injuries and disorders may be treated by doctors. This is not a substitute for medical advice.

See a doctor about any suspected foot injury or disorder, as prompt diagnosis and treatment can make for a faster, easier recovery, while improper treatment may lead to long-term damage.

Foot Bones

There are 26 bones in the foot. These include:

The phalanges, which are the bones in your toes

The metatarsals, which run through the flat part of your foot

The cuneiform bones, the navicularis, and the cuboid, all of which function to give your foot a solid yet somewhat flexible foundation

The calcaneus, which is the bone in your heel

The talus, which is the bone in your ankle

The talus connects to the tibia, which is the main bone in your lower leg

While you may not notice these bones in action every day, you’ll notice quickly if something is wrong with one of them. These bones allow your feet to execute the delicate shifts which enable you to keep your balance while walking, running, jumping, climbing, dancing, and playing sports!

Injury to a bone in the foot often results in a sharp or throbbing pain, especially when you move in a way that causes your weight or a nearby muscle to put pressure on the bone.

The most common broken bones in the foot are broken toes, which may occur after hitting a toe on a hard or sharp surface while walking, running, swimming, or playing sports.

Broken bones in the foot usually call for rest, ice, compression, and elevation to reduce any swelling. It is helpful to remember the acronym “RICE” for Rest, Ice, Compression, and Elevation. This combination of at-home treatments is a good first-line response for many leg and foot injuries.

Supportive wraps or protective casts may be used to reduce pain and keep bones properly aligned. Sometimes, crutches or other means of keeping weight off the foot entirely might be prescribed. In rare cases where a bone breaks into two or more pieces and these pieces become misaligned, surgery may be required to move the pieces back into alignment so they can heal.

Physical therapy may also be suggested to help regain healthy use of the muscles after the injury.

Another possible problem with bones in the foot is the problem of bunions, or bone spurs.

Bone spurs occur when extra bone growth occurs, usually near the end or joint of a bone. This can be caused by chronic irritation of the joint, such as rubbing against another bone or joint. The most common types of bone spurs in feet occur in the big toe, and these are called “bunions.”

Bunions and bone spurs can cause significant pain. Internally, they can rub against other bones, muscles, and nerves beneath the skin. Externally, they can change the shape of the foot, resulting in pain and discomfort from wearing normal shoes.

Mild bunions can be treated by wearing more comfortable shoes or shoe inserts, taking over-the-counter anti-inflammatory medications, applying rest, ice, compression, and elevation, and taping, or splinting the affected area. All of these measures might reduce swelling and prevent the bunion from causing pain.

If pain is not relieved by these activities, surgery may be required to remove some of the bunion tissue.

The risk for bunions is increased if you wear tight, narrow shoes, which may force bones to rub against each other. The risk is also increased if you have arthritis or a history of injuries to the foot.

Foot Ligaments

Ligaments are bands of very strong, flexible tissue that perform the important job of connecting bones together. Ligaments are very strong and difficult to injure, but ligament injuries can be serious when they do occur. This is because ligaments do not receive much blood flow like bones and muscles, so they are slow to repair themselves.

There are a lot of bones in the foot, so you might guess correctly that there are a lot of ligaments. In fact there are so many ligaments that we need three different diagrams to show them all to you!

This diagram shows the sole of the foot. You can see the toes on the top and the heel on the bottom, while the arch and sole of the foot are made up of a thick web of ligaments holding the bones together:

This diagram shows the “medial aspect” of the foot. This term comes from the terms “medial,” meaning “center,” or “in the middle,” and “aspect,” meaning “face.” In other words, this is the “face” that the foot shows to the center of the body. It is the side of the foot that faces inward.

This diagram shows the heel on the right, while the toes reach off the screen to the left.

Here you can see that the ankle is also a thick web of ligaments, where the tibia is connected to the bones of the ankle and the core of the foot. You can also see the bands of ligaments where the metatarsals and phalanges are connected to each other.

Lastly, this diagram shows the “lateral aspect” of the foot, with “lateral” meaning “to the side.” This is the view of the foot from the side of the body, then; the view of the part of the foot that faces outward.

On the left side of the image, above the heel, you can see the delicate leg bone called the fibula. The fibula is smaller than the tibia and runs alongside it. Having two separate bones instead of one connecting the foot to the leg gives the foot and leg extra balance and maneuverability.

You can also see the thick web of ligaments on the top of the foot, where the bones of the foot’s core are connected on the top side.

Now you can begin to see why the middle of your foot feels solid, even though it’s made up of many bones. The many bones are bound together tightly by strong, flexible ligaments, which allow the center of your foot to shift subtly while remaining solid and stable.

Although ligaments are strong, they can be injured – especially in an area like the ankle, where the whole weight of your body hinges on a single joint.

Sprains occur when a body part is wrenched or twisted, resulting in damage to a ligament. Such damage can cause swelling and significant pain. Because ligaments do not receive much nourishing blood flow from the body, sprains can take a long time to heal, and long-term damage can result from continued stress on a sprained ligament.

Like broken bones, sprains are often treated with rest, ice, compression, and elevation; and a supportive wrap or cast to take stress off the sprained area. Sometimes, crutches or other means of keeping weight off the foot entirely might be prescribed.

Physical therapy can be especially helpful in the case of sprains, where it can ensure that the injured ligament is strengthened gradually and is properly supported by surrounding muscles.

A torn ligament occurs when the foot is wrenched or twisted so violently that the ligament actually snaps. This condition can be serious as ligaments which are completely torn may not heal themselves the way a bone or muscle would.

Torn ligaments can sometimes be treated in the same way as strains, but may require surgery if the tear is severe or if there is lasting damage to foot function. With surgery, doctors can join the two ends of a damaged ligament together, or replace a damaged ligament with a healthy one from another part of the body.

Foot Muscles

Just as there are many bones and ligaments of the sole of the foot, there are also many muscles. These can be divided up into four major groups:

The central muscles of the sole of the foot

The lateral muscles of the sole of the foot

The medial muscles of the sole of the foot

The muscles of the dorsum (top) of the foot

You can learn more about each individual group of muscles in the foot using this table:

If muscles are overworked or overstressed, they can become torn or strained. Strains usually manifest as pain, especially with movement or pressure.

Mild strains often go away in days or weeks if the muscle is rested and not subjected to further stress. More serious muscle tears, however, may take months.

It is a good idea to see a doctor if a severe strain is suspected, as severe muscle strains can lead to serious complications.

The most severe form of muscle overuse – rhabdomyolysis – occurs when muscles are so stressed that their cells rupture and release toxic chemicals. This can actually be fatal if left untreated.

Rest, ice, compression, and elevation to reduce swelling are recommended to treat mild to moderate strains. Supportive wraps or casts and crutches or braces may be recommended if the strain is especially severe.

Physical therapy may also be suggested to help regain healthy use of the muscles after the injury.

Foot Tendons

Tendons are thick bands of tissue that connect muscles to bones. By connecting our rigid bones to our powerful muscles, tendons allow us to move. Movement occurs when our muscles pull on our bones, relocating them.

The following diagram shows the tendons of the lateral aspect of the foot – that is, the aspect that faces outward, away from your body:

Here you can see the tendons that extend down the top of your foot toward your toes, allowing you to curl your toes upward if need be.

You can also see what is arguably the most important tendon in the foot – the calcaneal, or Achilles tendon, which allows the muscles of your calf to control the movement of your foot.

The Achilles tendon gets its name from the mythical Greek hero Achilles, who was invulnerable – except for his ankle. An injury to his ankle – possibly to the Achilles tendon – left him unable to stand and fight.

This image of the medial aspect of the foot shows tendons that run along the bottom of the foot. It is these tendons that allow you to curl your toes and grip surfaces with your feet, by permitting muscles on the bottom of the foot to pull tight.

Injuries may happen to any tendon in the foot, and these may cause pain or impair balance. Achilles tendon injuries are one of the most common tendon injuries that can occur, as the body relies on the Achilles tendon to support its weight.

Lesser injuries to tendons can be treated with rest, ice, compression, elevation, and over-the-counter anti-inflammatory medications. Doctors may recommend prolonged periods of rest, and prescribe a supportive wrap or cast for substantial tendon injuries.

Severe injuries to the Achilles tendon that may occur while playing sports can require surgery to repair.

In addition to acute injuries like strains and tears, tendons can become irritated due to chronic stress.

Tendonitis occurs when a tendon – a touch cord of tissue which attaches a muscle to a bone – becomes irritated over time. This can occur from overuse or misuse if a person is moving in a way that causes stress to the tendon.

Tendonitis often appears slowly, manifesting as a sharp pain when a person performs a certain movement. People with tendonitis in the foot may find that it is painful to put weight on the foot, despite the absence of a clear injury like trauma or strain.

Tendonitis can be treated with RICE and over-the-counter anti-inflammatory drugs. Physical therapy can also be extremely beneficial, as this can gently exercise and stretch the tendon, and correct any movement habits that may have caused the irritation.

Foot Arches

Normally, tendons in the foot pull the bones of the foot in toward each other, resulting in distinctive arches between the heel and toes, and between the inner and outer toes. This arch is important for ensuring that weight is properly distributed among the strongest muscles of the leg and foot, and to ensure we can shift our weight as needed to keep our balance or move quickly.

Fallen arches, or “flat feet,” can occur when the tendons of the foot do not pull the foot’s bones together with a normal amount of strength. This results in the foot becoming “flat,” which can lead to pain, balance problems, and tiredness in the leg or foot.

Flat feet can occur as a result of injury, or some people’s tendons simply never pull together properly. Rarely, other health problems such as arthritis or problems with the nerves going to the feet can cause flat feet.

Flat feet may ache and tire easily. Back pain and leg pain may also result as muscles in the back and legs may work to overcompensate for the normal balancing functions of the arch.

Treatment for flat feet may depend on the cause. If you believe you have flat feet, see a doctor to find out what is the best treatment for you!

Skin and Toenails

The internal parts of the foot are not the only important parts! The skin on the bottom of our feet protects our muscles, bones, tendons and ligaments from injury. It also prevents infection.

Toenails protect the top of our toes, which, as we all know, can sometimes be vulnerable to being stubbed, stepped on, or having things dropped on them.

However, there are things that can go wrong with each of these and lead to problems.

Plantar warts – Plantar warts are growths that appear on the bottom of the foot, and may become painful. They are caused by a strain of human papillomavirus that infects skin of the feet and causes unusual growth of skin and blood vessels.

The strain of human papillomavirus that causes plantar warts and other warts is very common in the environment. It is not known why some people develop warts and others don’t. Avoiding sharing shoes and socks with people who have plantar warts may help protect against them, but many people develop plantar warts with no known instances of person-to-person transmission.

If plantar warts remain small, they might not cause pain, and no treatment may be needed. If they become painful, however, they may need to be removed. Several options exist for doing this, including over-the-counter applications, and procedures to freeze the wart tissue which can be performed by a doctor.

Corns and calluses are hard areas of skin which build up as a result of frequent friction against the skin. The body creates corns and calluses to “toughen” the skin against repeated stress.

People who work with their hands such as carpenters, gardeners, and musicians often develop calluses on their hands in areas where they frequently rub against their instruments. People who walk often or whose feet rub against the insides of their shoes may develop corns and calluses on their feet.

People with conditions that cause fragile skin or impaired blood flow to the feet, such as diabetes, should talk with their doctor as soon as corns or calluses develop. This may be a sign of an underlying problem, and treatments that are appropriate for healthy people may cause harm to people with these conditions.

For people who do not have such health conditions, over-the-counter corn-removal and exfoliation treatments can help relieve discomfort caused by corns and calluses. Changing one’s shoes or walking habits may also prevent them from forming in the future.

Once, human toenails served a similar function to those of fingernails or animals’ claws. However, the foot has undergone some important changes in evolutionary history. Toenails have not always kept up.

Ingrown toenails occur when a toenail inappropriately curves, causing it to stab into the flesh of the toe. This is a painful condition, and may become serious if injury and infection occur.

Ingrown toenails can sometimes be managed at home through frequent clipping. But in serious cases, medical attention may be necessary to avoid dangerous infections.

See your doctor immediately if an ingrown toenail causes severe pain, or if a toe with an ingrown toenail becomes red and swollen.

Quiz

1. Why is it important to see a doctor if a foot injury is suspected? A. Because different types of injuries such as broken bones, sprains, and strains may have similar symptoms but require different treatments B. Because prompt treatment can make for a slower, easier healing process than if an injury is ignored or treated improperly at first C. Because doctors can prescribe helpful devices like supportive wraps, casts, and crutches that decrease pain and help with healing D. All of the above

Answer to Question #1

D is correct. All of the above are reasons to consult a doctor if a foot injury occurs.

2. Which of the following is NOT a bone found in the foot? A. The calcaneus B. The cuboid bone C. The metacarpals D. The phalanges

Answer to Question #2

C is correct. The metaCARPals sound similar to the metaTARSals, which are found in the foot. But metacarpals are found in the hands, not the feet. You can remember this because “carpal” refers to the same anatomy as “carpal tunnel syndrome,” which is a disease of the hands and wrists.

3. Which of the following is not a foot-related health problem? A. A broken toe B. An Achilles tendon injury C. A sprained ankle D. Carpal tunnel syndrome

Answer to Question #3

D is correct. Carpal tunnel syndrome occurs in the wrists and hands, not in the feet or ankles.

References

Hoffman, M. (n.d.). Picture of the Feet. Retrieved July 05, 2017, from http://www.webmd.com/pain-management/picture-of-the-feet#1

Gray, H. (2012). Anatomy of the human body. London, England: Bounty.

Foot Injuries | Foot Disorders | MedlinePlus. (n.d.). Retrieved July 05, 2017, from https://medlineplus.gov/footinjuriesanddisorders.html

Topographic anatomy of the lower extremity, part II: knee, leg, ankle, and foot.[Video file]. (n.d.).

Muscles of the foot. (n.d.). Retrieved July 05, 2017, from https://www.kenhub.com/en/videos/muscles-foot

Calluses and Corns – Topic Overview. (n.d.). Retrieved July 05, 2017, from http://www.webmd.com/skin-problems-and-treatments/tc/calluses-and-corns-topic-overview#1

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The Daily Thistle

The Daily Thistle

Monday 8th January 2017

"Madainn Mhath” …Fellow Scot, I hope the day brings joy to you… The start of another week, work for some of us, turning over in bed for the rest.. Me? I treat every week as if it’s work, over the years I built a routine and have just stuck with it, rise at about 3.45am, walk Bella, but not before putting the coffee on.. back and write The Daily Thistle and the Tulip, Shower, prepare food for the family.. and the rest you can imagine, I always thought retirement was different, but it’s not, I’m still at work…

A SEARCH has been launched to find a partner for Scotland’s last elephant after she lost her only companion last year. Mondula, a 45-year-old female, has been left crestfallen by the loss of her enclosure mate Toto. And now her keepers at Blair Drummond Safari Park, near Stirling, are looking all over Europe to find her a new friend. Elephants are like humans in the sense that they need company to thrive in life. Ailsa McCormick, head keeper of the park’s large animals, wants to create something like a retirement home for older elephants. And while Mondula and Toto did not form powerful bonds as they were not related, Ailsa said they were like old women who tolerated - but needed - each other. She said: “When we lost Toto it was a very difficult time for Mondy and all of the staff. “The pair were never what you would exactly call friends because both came from different family groups, but they were together for around 20 years. “It’s not that they did not like each other, just that they did not have the family bonds that elephants form in their herds in the wild.” Toto arrived at the park from Basel Zoo in Switzerland in 1997, while Mondula arrived from Erfurt Zoo in Germany the same year. The third elephant at Blair Drummond, 49-year-old female Estrella, died in 2013. After collapsing in March last year, Toto was put down by keepers to prevent her suffering further. Visitors at the time saw keepers in tears as the decision was made to euthanise the elephant. Ailsa is looking forward to welcoming a new female to Mondula’s enclosure as soon as possible. She said: “It’s something that we’re looking to do and we have had a lot of questions about Mondula being on her own, but it’s something that’s going to take time. “Getting a companion is not going to happen as we, or she, would like - but it is going to happen. “It has to be the right elephant with a temperament that’s compatible with Mondula’s.” In the months since Toto’s death, keepers have put in an extra effort to make sure Mondula did not grow lonely. This included a more stimulating environment for her, and more interaction with the keepers. Ailsa added: “She is doing really well. It has been a big change for her, but she has been really happy with the effort we have put in to helping her adjust.”

TWO YOUNG mountaineers who carried a hypothermic walker to safety have been praised as “heroes” for helping to save his life. The man had climbed Ben Macdui in the Cairngorms - Scotland’s second highest peak - but got into difficulty on his return trip. Rescuers said the two mountaineers passing by, a young man and woman who are a couple, found the walker “in a bad way”. They then “half-carried” him for two to three kilometres, supporting him to walk until he could no longer bear his own weight. After carrying the walker far enough to get a phone signal, they called mountain rescuers. Cairngorm Mountain Rescue Team (CMRT) said: “CMRT and Glenmore Lodge instructors were flown to the area close to the casualty, thanks to SAR Helicopter R951 flying in poor weather. “After immediate treatment, the casualty was assisted to the waiting helicopter and evacuated.” The man was initially warmed on the hill and then further warmed up and fed at the mountain rescue team’s base. CMRT team leader Willie Anderson said the incident was a great example of mountaineers helping each other.

AN ABERDEEN FAN has been jailed for six months after displaying aggressive and violent behaviour towards a rival supporter ahead of the Scottish League Cup final. Kevin Goffin, 35, was arrested at Glasgow Central station on Sunday 27 November ahead of the match between Aberdeen and Celtic at Hampden Park. British Transport Police (BTP) said officers were made aware of a man acting aggressively on the station concourse just before 2pm. Goffin then “acted inappropriately” towards a Celtic fan at the station’s Marks & Spencer store and became “increasingly hostile” when approached by BTP officers. He launched a “torrent of homophobic, intimidating and violent abuse” towards officers which continued all the way to police custody. Goffin, whose address was listed as Kincorth Circle, Aberdeen, pleaded guilty at Glasgow Sheriff Court on Wednesday to one count contrary to the Offensive Behaviour at Football and Threatening Communications Acts. As well as being jailed, Goffin was given a three-year football banning order. Sergeant Michael McEwan said: “Threatening or abusive behaviour will simply not be tolerated and I am pleased that this man has been handed a prison sentence.

A NEW ROAD BRIDGE across the river Tay has the potential to ease traffic congestion in Perth and boost employment, councillors were told yesterday. The £113 million Cross Tay Link Road will direct vehicles away from the city centre by linking the A93 and the A94 north of Scone to the A9 between Inveralmond and Luncarty. The route of the crossing has been approved by councillors. Picture: Contributed The preferred route for the project was approved unanimously by members of Perth and Kinross Council. A report prepared by the local authority suggested the new bridge would lead to increased productivity and a wave of new homes. Council depute chief executive Jim Valentine noted in the paper “increasing concern” about traffic congestion and air quality issues around Perth over the past 20 years, which are linked to the rising number of vehicles passing through the city. The route has two-thirds of its funding in place, with the remainder tied to the approval of the proposed Tay Cities Deal. The report estimated that for every £1 of capital invested in the new bridge and link road, the completed project would generate an estimated £4.30 of revenue. It added the project could lead to a total of £966m of private sector investment.

AND FINALLY…. A CITY can’t flourish unless built on solid foundations. That’s the guiding belief of a £100 million infrastructure development taking place beneath the streets of Glasgow, a massive undertaking largely unseen by anyone except for a few dozen contractors. The drilling machine has been named Daisy by a school pupil The Shieldhall tunnel is the biggest upgrade to the city’s waste water infrastructure since Victorian times, and the largest project of its kind attempted north of the Border. A state-of-the-art tunnel boring machine is building the tunnel at depths of to 32 metres, or 105 feet, as it travels at speeds of about 30m per day, excavating earth and stone and installing the lining of the tunnel in the form of massive concrete rings. When complete in late 2017, the tunnel will be more than five times as long as the Clyde Tunnel and 4.65m in diameter – big enough to fit a double-decker bus inside. It will be the biggest waste water tunnel in Scotland, with a storage capacity equivalent to 36 Olympic-sized swimming pools. The completed project will allow future housing and office developments to proceed across the Greater Glasgow area by greatly expanding the capacity of the Scottish Water system. Construction of the tunnel in the south-west of the city involves excavating some 250,000 tonnes of material and installing more than 18,000 pre-cast concrete segments, each weighing 2.5 tonnes. Engineers on the project work 12-hour shifts, starting at 7am or 7pm, with the tunnel boring machine working non-stop. The centre of operations for staff is at the Craigton industrial estate, five miles south-west of the city centre. Engineers climb down four flights of metal stairs to the tunnel shaft, a vast industrial cavern which houses a small-gauge railway. The railway transports workers to the tunnel boring machine. On their way, workers pass a small encased wooden carving of Saint Barbara - the patron saint of tunnelers, mounted on a shaft wall to keep silent watch over them in accordance with tunneling tradition.

Well Fellow Scot I hope you enjoyed our look at the news from Scotland this morning…

Our look at Scotland today is a fantastic sunset over the River Lochy at Lochybridge. taken by Colin MacKinnon, from Fort William.

A Sincere Thank You for your company and Thank You for your likes and comments I love them and always try to reply, so please keep them coming, it's always good fun, As is my custom, I will go and get myself another mug of "Colombian" Coffee and wish you a safe Monday 9th January 2017 from my home on the southern coast of Spain, where the blue waters of the Alboran Sea washes the coast of Africa and Europe and the smell of the night blooming jasmine and Honeysuckle fills the air…and a crazy old guy and his dog Bella go out for a walk at 4:00am…on the streets of Estepona…

All good stuff....But remember it’s a dangerous world we live in ….. Be safe out there…

Robert McAngus