#dump truck tarp

[pulltarps]

With the Hawaii fire being one of the deadliest natural disasters in recent times, Dump trucks play a crucial role in disaster relief. Here’s how?

[sparklehoard]

Adults in my town waiting and asking on Facebook about city halls mist arches like kids waiting for their passive parents to take them to the water park

[pulltarps-blogs]

We offer simply the best truck tarping systems

[foldingfittedsheets]

There was this park near where I grew up. I remember we’d just moved to the area so I was around six and we drove past and saw this waterfront area. My parents decided to check it out so we went for a walk. It was a lovely park, there’s a lazy slough, lots of trees, extremely picturesque. My parents ambled along the trail enjoying the nature while my siblings and I ranged around in their orbit like excitable moons.

Then I saw something odd. Something vibrantly alive down by the water that was entirely the wrong color. I called back my vital scouting info and my family gathered around me. We looked down the steep verge toward the slough, screened by underbrush. We couldn’t quite make out what it was. The only thing we could agree was that it certainly wasn’t a duck. However it was about duck sized and roughly duck shaped. It just wasn’t a duck.

This led to some heated debate amongst my siblings and I but we were forbidden to scramble down the muddy hill to harass the mystery animal. Reluctantly we continued down the trail, speculating wildly when a chicken popped out of a bush in front of us with a train of several chicks.

We froze. The chicken did not. She placidly herded her little puffs across the trail, pecking happily for seeds, unbothered by our proximity. My family had not yet delved into farming and this was the first time any of us kids had seen a chicken up close. It was like a fairytale thing, a creature we had seen over and over in books was suddenly here in the wilderness of the park. We all realized the mystery creature had likewise been a chicken.

Another couple came up the trail and saw us staring.

“Is this your first time at the park?” They asked?

We nodded.

They informed us that this park had become a dumping ground for unwanted chickens. Once the chickens were dumped they were park property and the locals didn’t mind the eccentric additions at all. No one looked after the chickens, but they got on surprisingly well.

As the years went by we visited the park regularly. Signs were added to warn people not to dump off chickens or they’d be fined. They were also excluded from snatching the existing chickens. The hope was that the chickens would eventually run their course and the park would go back to normal.

It did not.

Instead the menagerie grew. Peacocks cropped up occasionally, turkeys; and one visit we saw guinea fowl. But there were always chickens. Eventually feed dispenser were installed so park goers could pay a quarter to enjoy the motley flocks.

Because we’d moved into a house with land my mom started up a chicken coop and we got our very own chickens at the feed store like proper folks. The first rooster we had was a gentleman, politely clucking at us when came into the coop, but the second proved troublesome a year later. He either adored or hated me. Every time I entered the coop he’d dance and flounce and brandish his spurs.

My mom didn’t want to off him frankly she didn’t know how at that point but his fascination ended with him flying at me and the rooster was sentenced to banishment.

We drove to the park.

We saw him there for years afterward, clucking dutifully around a small flock of hens. He did pretty well in exile.

Anyone who’s kept chickens knows that eventually there’s always a tragedy. Ours happened when a neighbors dog broke into our coop and slaughtered the flock. I was absolutely distraught, my lovingly hand reared chicks all decimated in a flurry of senseless bloodlust. I have not loved a chicken since. They are too fragile to bear it.

After a few days of mourning my mom offered that she knew where to find some more chickens. To make up for the massacre she planned a night raid with us. We stayed up past our bedtime and drove to the park with tarp covered kennels in the back of the truck.

We crept down along the gravel parking lot, looking up into the trees, spotting the telltale lumps of shadows that meant chickens. We quickly developed a strategy. We picked a chicken branch, creeping close underneath. Then we reached the end of the branch and gave it a good shake until the roosting chicken glided down to the ground in confusion. It was easy to scoop them up and we went home the proud new owner of a handsome flock of chickens.

The Take a Chicken Leave a Chicken park is still a beloved feature of its neighborhood to this day.

[stillalivedcingscience]

I honestly do get surprised that there isn’t more objectum love for heavy construction machines

again maybe I just reached max exposure limit early on and it did things to my brain, but

do you guys have any idea how graceful and silent tower cranes actually are? It’s majestic

did you know that when dump trucks carry asphalt as a load and it’s raining and the tarp is up, steam will billow off their backs? Did you know that their polished paint makes raindrops bead which will reflect the light from their turn signals beautifully?

did you know that tracked machines are actually hella bumpy to ride around in? It’s like a carnival ride

the interior or big truck’s sleepers are plush. They’re built to cuddle

big (really big) hydraulic machines make ethereal noises when they move

did you know that hydraulic lines twitch and jump when they’re activated and make a clicking noise?

did you know, that before the engine of a semi cranks, he makes a little clicky noise at you, click, click, click?

because you should know these things, and more. I could go on

[afewfantasies]

🏔️The Retreat 🏔️- Chapter III

Prologue | Chapter I | Chapter II | Misc references & details

Summary:  A threat to Lorena's safety leads to Gales assessment and acknowledgement of his complicated feelings for Lorena. Lorena tries her best to make peace with her past and what she's willing to accept in her future.

Pairing: Gale Cleven x Lorena (black fem oc)

Warnings:  Spiking of drinks and gender based dangers relevant for the times.

Tropes: Slow Burn, opposites attract, forbidden love

Word Count: 2K

Chapter III - In Care of Gale Cleven

Another month has passed....

“Hey boss?” Kurt asks as Gale reviews the ledgers. “I think we have trouble, some guys came in flirting with Lorena pretty hard. They look like bad news” Kurts words alert Gale.

“Who’s in there now?”

“Jeff and Andy” Kurt responds as his boss grabs a pistol. He knew bad news and a beautiful unmarried woman in the middle of nowhere would be easy pickings for some. Locking up his ledgers he heads into the Lodge. He finds Lorena behind the bar like they’d practiced just in case of emergency. All four pigs are hanging on her every word they look and smell like trouble. Gale gives Kurt a hand signal telling him to call in the guys in the case of more trouble and sits to the bar not as an owner but as a patron. It gets the attention of the patrons and Lorena who gives him a soda. Gale never looked for fights but since the war sometimes he found himself seeking them out. Men who rejected the notion of peace needed to know some horrors and he would be the one to hand out that dose of reality for them.

“You alright?” Gale asks Lorena just above a whisper.

“Yeah” she nods. “Brown hat has a knife and denim jacket has a pistol” she whispers. A shrill whistle cuts through the air.

“Come on back over here darling, leave old blondie alone” One of the four trouble makers shouts.

“She’s no dog you don’t whistle at a woman!” One of the regulars says from his table as Jeff rids it of his dishes.

“Mind your business senior” One responds and the others laugh.

“Just apologize, you don’t whistle at women” Lorena says topping them back up.

“Sorry love more whisky” the loser in denim winks. Nodding she heads into the back feeling the promise of a brawl. Rose had taught her the unethical practice of drugging certain patrons. Reaching the glass viles she pours the necessary drops into the bottle of whisky swishing the bottle around. When she emerges more familiar faces have taken their seats. She pours four fresh whiskeys and in ten minutes the trouble makers are knocked out on the pine.

Gale takes point leaving Jeff with Rose and Lorena. He and the guys rid the troublemakers of their possessions getting their identification and car keys. He loads them up onto his flatbed truck covering them with a tarp like their dead men. Kurt and Rainey hop in the two cars they arrived in. Gale is in lead driving to the other side of the mountain. They’d wake up lost and with a serious headache. When he’d purchased the lakehouse from Rose she’d been forthcoming about all the dangers about being away from civilization. The sleeping drafts had been something her mother suggested after her and her husband had been attacked. He’d been engaged then to his dream girl. It was only supposed to be a cottage then. Rose and her boys would run it but then the war came and he left and when he returned home single he couldn’t bare to frequent the places he once had with his fiancé. He couldn’t stomach the noise and bustle of the city. He needed peace, he needed quiet and a simple life. The mountains weren’t without issue but simplicity served him well. Arriving at his favourite spot to dump miscreants he pulls into a cliff. Kurt and Rainey behind him. They put the guys in the cars leaving the keys in the ignition. They leave a can of petrol for them and one bullet in the chamber of their gun. They were so far inland that they could drive in any direction for an hour before finding a way out. That’s what Gale was banking on.

In five months Lorena had come to belong to him in a sort of way. She was his responsibility, she lived in his home, under his roof and anything she needed he provided. They shared breakfasts together and he checked on her every night before settling in. Whatever she wanted she got, he’d spent the equivalent of days chopping down trees and using wood to make her custom furniture for her books and her plants and for shelving. Her’s was the only room in his home expertly decorated. So much so he could hardly recognize it. Although he grumbled often about her frilly ways he enjoyed nothing as much as her smiling and happy. Nothing he hated more than her melancholy. With every new letter came a day of tears and sulking. No matter how he tried to consider the facts he couldn’t fathom a scenario where leaving Lorena for another woman would be feasible. The way she handled patrons he could tell she would make a fine mother and wife. After what Egan had said he knew Lorena had loved her ex-husband more fiercely than most men could imagine and she was still loyal to him.

Gale found himself thinking about her on some nights. Thinking of heading into her room and holding her all night and studying her soft features in the morning light. Waking up bathed in the scent of her perfume with her in his arms and not spending the dreadful hour before she woke up downstairs waiting to hear her footsteps pad across her bedroom into the bathroom. But she never looked at him the way the other women did. She didn’t stare longingly or even coyly. She’d never let looks linger with desire and he’d never heard her call a man like him handsome, although everyone else seemed to think of him that way. He thought of what it would be like to come home to her regularly and since their trip into the city he’d been unable to solicit discreet widows for carnal pleasure.

They’d make a handsome couple he thought often but she would never be his in that way. So he put the thoughts away as quickly as they came and his charge would be her protection and preservation like anyone else under his care. If he had to dump four scoundrels in the middle of bear country in the summer he would. Without regrets or remorse because nothing would ever happen to Lorena under his watch.

Back at the lodge he heads up to Roses place and finds supper has been prepared. Lorena sits on the sofa mending one of his shirts as she hums along to the record playing. He watches her in the doorway.

“All settled?” Rose asks.

“Mhm” he nods looking back to Lorena.

“She’s fine they were talking to her filthy but she’s not shaken up” Rose explains.

“Good, I’ll need more of those sleeping drafts” Gale mumbles.

“Mail came after you left” Rose notifies him. He swallows puzzled. Looking at Lorena it’s easy to see she’s in good spirits and not in her usual funk.

“She read the letters?”

“No, one from the ex that was pretty thick and one from the sister” Rose discloses missing nothing even at her old age. Nodding Gale looks up to see Lorena is now aware of his return. She snips a thread and stands draping his shirt over her arm.

“Everything alright, no one was hurt right?”

“No” Gale affirms looking her over.

“Come here, let me see it” Rose says holding up the shirt. Gale smiles seeing the rip gone but a mangled stitch replacing the gaping hole.

“Lorena” Rose tsk’s disapprovingly.

“It’s wearable still” Gale defends with a mocking smile.

“I’ll see you tomorrow sweetheart” Rose tiptoes kissing Lorenas temple.

“Tomorrow” she nods following Gale back to the house. They walk side by side as he uses a torch to light the way. “Thank you” Lorena whispers.

“You don’t have to thank me”

“I do you all take great care of me, let me do as I please and don’t judge me for it” she whispers sticking close. “Only loose and abandoned women work” she says as her mother and other society ladies did.

“Well you’re neither” Gale corrects in a clipped tone.

“Next month would be my sixth wedding anniversary” Lorena confesses slightly over the sound of gravel under their feet. Gale can’t make out more than her figure in the darkness. “My sister Fefe, has spent the day with me since the war. Last year we threw this big dinner party since Reggie was home. I got a letter from both of them today. I bet Fe wants me to come home” Lorena says sounding solemn.

“Why can’t Fefe come here?” Gale asks making her smile. He was a man that didn’t do nicknames ad the silly childhood moniker sounded silly coming from a grown man.

“Felicia” Lorena corrects. “She’d tell daddy who’d come here and make a big stink about me living in the woods with a man. He’d say he didn’t pay for my education and indulge my interests in fashion and hosting to have me stay here” Lorena explains.

“I see and my colour won’t help either will it?” Gale asks.

“My folks aren’t prejudice, maybe my daddy is a little but that’s cause his grandfather was a Native American” Lorena explains.

“So they want you remarried?” Gale asks.

“They do but all the suitors remember me as this happy young beautiful person. The young woman I was before the war” she whispers in reflection.

“Lorena I think anyone would be happy to have you as their wife” Gale says frankly.

“Gale I’m spoiled” she swallows heading up the stairs to their home.

“Why’s that?” He asks lighting the home as he looks down at her.

“I’ve already been in love, I know that that’s like. I’ve had a loving marriage.” She says. “I know what’s like and I’d know the difference and it’d haunt me” she confesses leaving Gale to nod I understanding. “And you and the guys spoil me rotten, there’s nothing you all wouldn’t do for me and you want nothing in return” she smiles. “I can imagine having to bat my eyes and be sweet for some pocket money or a new dress. Or sing the praises of a man who feels he owns me because of the marriage certificate” she says having thought through her options throughly. Raking his hands through his hair Gale thinks a moment horrified by the prospect himself.

“Any son of a bitch mistreats you I want you to send a letter here about where he spends his days and nights. I’ll take care of it for you doll” he says seriously. Lorena often wondered how such a gentle man found violence so natural to him. Smiling she shakes her head.

“It’s better I stay so I don’t damn either of our souls” Lorena smiles. Gale does too reaching out for her. She walks into his arms appreciating the hug and his care of her.

“Tell your sister to meet you in the city and I’ll drive down with you and bring her up here. You can have the house”

“My room is big enough for Fe and I”

“Well if Felicia’s a respectable woman her husband may not like her sleeping in the same house as a single man” Gale concludes.

“He isn’t like that, Felicia can do as she pleases. But I’ll send for her, thank you Gale” she says heading upstairs. It went without saying Gale was beginning to arrive at the place where there was nothing he wouldn’t do to keep Lorena safe and comfortable. Stopping halfway up the flight of stairs Lorena turns around stopping him in his tracks.

“Really, thank you” she smiles getting only a smiling nod in response. “Take me shopping tomorrow?” She asks only to receive the same gestures. “Goodnight Gale”

“Goodnight Lorena” he says and she pauses before finishing the ascend and heading to his room. Her smile had been infectious since the first day he’d seen it. Lorena had been laughing at Jeff’s clumsiness, the fool had been half performing for her attention but as long as anything wasn’t too broken Gale let it go on appreciating the unfamiliar sounds of woman’s laughter as he sat in his corner numb to it.

Authors Note: Thank you for reading :) Let me know if you all want this to continue. The next Chapter has Lorena's older sister coming into town. She doesn't hold back and see's Gales feelings for Lorena.

[chadillacboseman]

Summary: Alex is having a horrible, terrible, no good very bad...three weeks. Just a very short one shot of pre-Kate (@thesingularityseries) and pre-Echo (@roofgeese ) Black Dragon times.

--

Alex could hear the roar of the fight pits all the way from the storage room- a loud, unforgiving cacophony that rang in his ears as he searched the shelves. Kano's voice rang out, louder than the others, his accent grating on Alex's ears.

He ignored it and crouched to better examine the bottom shelf. He knew what the fight meant for him, it was only a matter of time until-

"Got another stiff for ya, Turk."

Alex glanced up and met Kano's glowing red eye; his face was flecked with blood and a fresh, angry cut ran across his cheek, not yet scabbed over.

Alex sighed and rose from his crouched position, his bum knee creaking in protest as it lifted his weight. The body behind Kano was that of a younger man, his brown hair cropped into a military high and tight. He was wearing olive green, and his name was sewn into the right hand side of his shirt.

Special Forces.

"Your ears painted on? Get rid of him," Kano gestured and his eye glowed threateningly, "And make it quick before he stinks up the place."

Alex sauntered past Kano and searched for the least bloody part of the soldier's body. From the looks of it, his death had been painful and slow. Alex crouched and hoisted the man over his shoulder, pointedly ignoring the wet squelch that met his ears on contact.

"There's the muscle we hired ya for! Now get a fuckin' move on."

Alex had been on body duty for three weeks, a punishment inflicted on him for a botched mission in Montana. It wasn't his fault, not really. The SF had known they were coming, had intercepted them at the bunker and nearly killed him in the process. The warhead Kano had desperately wanted was lost- Alex still didn't know what he wanted it for, but he'd threatened to gut him like a fish for the failure. Of course, Kano's golden child, Kabal, had gotten no punishment for his involvement in the debacle.

Alex made his way to the garage and found a suitable truck, dropping the dead agent unceremoniously into the open bed. He tossed a tarp over the top and retrieved a toolkit and shovel from the nearby shelf.

The drive to the dumpsite was uneventful, through the winding desert and into the mountain range. Still, he gripped his shotgun in the passenger seat, ready for blue and red lights to flash in the rearview at any moment.

By the time he reached the dumping ground, night had fallen and the headlights of the truck were his only source of light, their dull orange glow cutting through the slowly settling dust.

Alex had honed his grave digging skills over the weeks he'd been doomed to body duty- able to make a suitable hole in less than an hour. When he finished, he paused for a moment, resting against his shovel for support as he panted in the still-warm air.

When he had recovered, he made his way back to the pickup and ripped the tarp aside. Rigor mortis had begun to set in, causing the agent's limbs to resist his maneuvering as he wrestled him from the bed and onto the ground with a disgusting thud.

Alex swore in Turkish and began the laborious task of dragging the body awkwardly to the hole. He dropped it next to the grave and returned once more to the pickup, retrieving the toolkit from the cab.

Pliers. Blowtorch.

And then he set to work.

First went the fingertips, prints burned off by the white hot flames of the torch. The smell of burning flesh assaulted his nostrils and made his eyes water- a scent he'd never get used to.

Next went the teeth, each wrenched from the corpse's mouth with the crude, rusted pliers. The first time he'd done it, it had nearly caused him to relive his lunch. Now, he was numb, completing the task with the ease and nonchalance of repetition.

The teeth went into a bag, to be incinerated in the furnace back at the base.

"No hard feelings, pal," Alex spoke aloud to the corpse, something he often found himself doing, "I'm sure you were a nice guy."

The agent's now wide, bloodied maw of a mouth could almost be taken for a smile out here in the darkness. Alex rolled him over once, twice, and then he fell into the shallow grave with a muted whump that sent a small cloud of dust into the air.

The burying was easier than the digging.

Dirt rained down into the hole with each motion of his shovel, slowly building until the body disappeared entirely and Alex cast his shovel aside before lowering himself to the ground for a short rest.

Alex sat for a moment next to the newly-disturbed dirt of the grave and pulled his knees up into his chest before burying his face. Out in the desert, a coyote yapped out a haunting call, likely drawn by the scent of blood.

Perhaps it would be a mercy to be torn to shreds by a pack of hungry coyotes.

Would anyone from the base even come looking for him?

The crushing, all-consuming loneliness of the past three weeks hit him all at once, and for a moment, he felt as if he was going to cry. He wanted to call his mother. Wanted to jump in the truck and just drive until there was no more road to follow. Wanted to walk into the desert and let the coyotes have him.

A small meow from somewhere behind him snapped him from his stupor and he turned his head in search of the sound. Squinting in the darkness, he could just barely make out the shape of a small, orange kitten, huddled near the front tire of the truck.

"Hey, little buddy," Alex extended a hand and clicked his tongue. To his surprise, the cat trotted hesitantly toward him, pausing to sniff his fingers with interest.

It looked rough, covered in desert sand and lean from far too many days without a meal. The cat gently butted its head against his hand and he ran his palm over its matted orange fur, chuckling at the way it leaned eagerly into his touch.

"You wanna come back to base with me?"

The cat looked up at him, green eyes glittering in the headlights. He couldn't leave it out here...right? But Kano would kill him for bringing a cat back to the base.

Alex decided he didn't care.

[why-bless-your-heart]

Argh.

I called and scheduled a bulky trash pickup because my grandfather’s truck has been broken down for about a year and my uncle uses his truck for work so trying to schedule a time for him to take stuff to the dump would just be more hassle than it’s worth. I arrange for the garbage pickup service to take the broken old refrigerator, toilet, and washing machine. Literally the next day, my grandfather goes “I fixed the refrigerator! :D”

I did not want him to fix the refrigerator. I hate the refrigerator. There are two refrigerators in a very small kitchen. The fixed refrigerator smells of mold. I want the refrigerator thrown away. But now it is fixed so it cannot be thrown away.

Okay, fine. We will keep the refrigerator. I will find something else for them to take instead.

The current inventory of my grandfather’s yard includes a moldering airstream, two rusted through thunderbirds plus the broken truck, a collection of car batteries, an exercise bicycle, two filing cabinets, two armchairs, etc. etc. etc. We are that house in the neighborhood. So it should be easy to pick one other thing, one final thing to be taken away, right? Right?

Wrong. Now my grandfather wants me to cancel the trash pickup entirely. I reiterate, there is a toilet on our front porch. A toilet that my 80-something year-old grandfather with a pacemaker apparently intends to keep there until 1. He fixes the 30-year-old truck a friend gave him for free because it wasn’t worth trying to fix anymore, 2. He loads it up into the bed of said 30-year-old truck, strapping it into place and covering it with a tarp, 3. He takes it down to the dump and pays them the ~$30 fee.

Because apparently there are just too many things that could go wrong with the curb pickup.

[upthewerewolves]

My boyfriend ordered an enormous soil delivery for 8:30 in the morning today (why) told me to set an alarm for 8 so we could set out the tarp, okay. then woke up at 8 and was like “do we have a tarp?” 😭 like idk you’re the soil man! You only told me before bed you even did this?? So he said “oh no I have to go to Home Depot” and rushed off to the store and I’m just sitting here waiting for them to come dump trucks full of soil on us. I’m still so sleepy btw

[scaryscarecrows]

How the Tables Have Turned

Jason Todd isn’t known to be cuddles and sunshine, but he’s also not known to ask a guy’s name, turn as if to walk away, and promptly spin back around and shoot him in the balls.

And yet, that’s exactly what’s happened.

The Hoods don’t get a lot of applicants. First you have to find them, then you have to not suck, and then there’s the fun initiation rites. Childish? Maybe so. But it’s security. Most moles are not willing to rely on a complete stranger to just hand over the antidote to the shot glass of rattlesnake venom they just chugged.

(Well, that was last year’s. They switch it up, y’know. For variety. And security-what if word gets out, huh? People’ll build up resistance.)

So really, Antoine was grudgingly impressed by this guy. He’d rolled up looking like a bat outta Hell (not that kind), with a bag of grenades he said he scored from a supply truck. He’d been a little loud, little annoying, but that could be chalked up to nerves. It’s common, the, ‘I could totally fight Batman and WIN’ talk when people show up. It always dies down, in time.

Maybe there were warning signs. Antoine wouldn’t know, he wasn’t watching the boss for this interaction. He’d been a little quiet, but it’s a hundred and fifteen degrees out here, man, nobody’s chatty in this heat.

The gunshot brings everybody running. The guy-Brian Burnly, he’d said his name was-is writhing on the ground, spitting obscenities. He’s not dead, but infection will take him out if they don’t treat him soon. Or he might just bleed to death.

“Sir?”

Jason’s not listening. In three quick strides, he’s on Burnly, hand grasping his jacket to haul him off the sand.

“You sonofabitch.”

Antoine is so confused. Personal history? Something, anyway; his voice is doing that wavery thing it only does when he’s really, really, angry. Burnly’s, hands, which have been going between protecting what’s left of his privates and shoving desperately at Jason’s, go still.

“…Todd?”

Blam!

Yeah, there’s a reason zombie movies emphasize the importance of the headshot. You don’t come back from that.

Jason drops what’s left and stalks towards his office with a harsh, “Somebody clean that up. Go dump it for the buzzards.”

There’s a wave of murmuring, but somebody finally breaks away and heads towards the cleaning shed to get a tarp.

* * *

When the boss does not reappear for four hours, Antoine gives in to the silent-yet-mounting pressure to go check on him. The sun’s setting, now, long shadows swallowing the still-red sand. There’s not much they can do about that. It’ll bleach out in a few days.

The desert is harsh that way.

Jason’s still in his office. At least, Antoine thinks he is. The light’s not on, though, so maybe he slipped out…probably not. Reckless he might be, sometimes, but he’s not stupid enough to just ride off into the middle of nowhere on his own, not without telling someone.

He knocks. When he doesn’t get an answer, he tries the knob, finds it locked, and crouches down to pick it. Invasion of privacy? Yeah. But something’s not right here.

Jason is indeed inside. He’s sprawled in his chair, head thrown over the back of it and his eyes closed. One hand’s gripping a worn desk corner, thumb moving feverishly over chipping paint. The other’s on the desk, white-knuckled around a stainless steel, beat-to-shit flask that Antoine thinks is older than both of them combined.

“Sir?” He considers flicking on the lights, decides to wait. “You, uh, you okay?”

“Drouot.” His voice is cracked and raw. This cannot be a good thing. “Didn’t hear you come in.”

“I knocked,” he says. Jason shrugs, lifts the flask with the heavy, careful movements of a drunk man, and shakes it.

“Oh.” More shaking. There’s no sloshing. “Damn.”

“You okay, boss?”

“Nope,” he says, voice forcefully (dangerously) cheerful. “But I’ll be fine. Ssss.” He frowns, plunks the flask back down, and tries again. “Some-thing. Wrong?”

You, Antoine thinks. Drinking alone in the dark is not a sign of good mental health.

“People were startin’ to worry, s’all,” he says carefully. “Wanted to make sure you hadn’t tripped and cracked your head open or something.”

That provokes laughter, high and thin and honestly really creepy.

“I used ta have a sssscar. On th’ back’a my head.” He slouches back in his chair, lips stretched in what’s technically a smile. “Burnley gotta little. Little rough. Kids break easy, y’know?” He swallows. “Wen’ away when I came back, though. Guess th’ graaaave kept it.”

Antoine doesn’t know where this is going, but it’s probably bad.

“Maybe you should go to bed, sir,” he says. “You don’t look too good.”

That prompts another laugh. Then, “Damn. An’ here was me thinking I used ta be a cute kid.”

“I’m sure you were, boss.” He has no idea. He thinks he must have been tiny, though, because he’s heard his mom tell him I can’t carry you anymore, kid, c’mon, work with me here. “But right now you’re heading for Hangover Bay, so let’s go.”

“No tuck-in,” Jason grumbles. “M’too old for tuck-in.”

“No shit.”

Jason’s a lot steadier on his feet than Antoine would have guessed. And he’s quiet, too, probably concentrating on not falling down. He does fall, in the end, but it’s controlled, more of a self-fling onto his bed. One hand comes up and feels around the back of his head (Scar? Itch? He doesn’t know.) and he makes a disappointed noise.

“Still gone.”

“Yup.” He pulls a blanket off the chair and throws it over him. There. “Night, boss.”

He gets no answer, not even when he kills the light and nearly trips over a chair on the way out. It’s been an…interesting…evening.

He could have done without it.

THE END

[theuglyproject]

The Ugly Project

Over the course of my 30+ year career as a Technical & Training Representative for Hunter Engineering Company I saved pretty much everything. When I retired, I decided to check out sim-racing, which is hardware and software that attempts to accurately simulate auto racing, complete with real-world variables such as fuel usage, damage, tire wear and grip, and suspension settings. I started with iRacing, then moved to Assetto Corsa Competizione. I'm not very good, but I'm having fun.

In 2023 I found out about motion simulators, which as you may imaging, attempt to simulate the physical movement of the car being driven in the game. I can't afford to purchase one, so using YouTube for guidance, I thought I would try to make one using all of the scrap hardware I had filling up my barn.

I decided to start simple, with a rig with just one motor that simulated traction-loss. I did have to purchase some special items such as a 12VDC motor originally meant for dump truck tarp systems, an Arduino Uno, a 12 Volt power supply, things like that.

The prototype is all together now, and it does work - mostly. There is still a lot of tweaking to do regarding the control settings and programing.

I realize the captions are not going to mean much for most people, sorry.

[scattered-winter]

shamelessly stealing this from north teacupmotif brutaliakhoa pendulumnorth dot com but it's something true and beautiful friday. tell me something true and beautiful. I'll start my coworker and I were unloading a heavy load of grass clippings today and a guy at the dump pit hopped out of his truck to help us lift the tarp it was super nice of him <333

[courtsmediablr]

Pollution Mayhem in Springfield

It’s early Saturday morning, and you are walking through Nathanael Greene Park. The sunrise is just starting to peek over the horizon and through the trees. The sunrise is a beautiful mix of pinks, oranges, and blues. It is the kind of sunrise you wish you could wake up to every morning. You start the walk through the garden and see all the flowers in full bloom and all the colors on full display. You hear the birds chirping and as you walk close to the bridge, you see the ducks that always make their way there to feed on the fish. Off on the other side of the lake, you see a fox make his way into the forest, finishing his morning hunt. It is a beautiful walk around the lake, the park is clean and safe, and the wildlife seems happy.

But just down the road, South of the park on Scenic lays a whole other scene. The road is not clean, it is not safe for wildlife and is heavily polluted. Just south of where those ducks call home, where the ducks and wildlife drink that water, where the fox may hunt for food, lays solid waste pollution that could contaminate the water, harm the wildlife, and contaminate the land with toxins.

James River Freeway is the gateway into our city of Springfield, Mo. It connects multiple cities together and it gives tourists a glance at what our city holds. However, when you arrive on the freeway, you are immediately taken aback by the amount of waste that is littered across the freeway. Wrapped on fences and stuck in drain ways, there is trash littered for miles. Solid waste pollution is a large problem that is affecting our city in a very large way.

Solid waste pollution comes everywhere. There is no one place that solid waste pollution generates or populates from. Private trash trucks do not tarp down their trucks when they load up resulting in trash escaping from the back, cars littering, or people dumping trash in areas that are not designated for waste. When towns such as Springfield do not make trash service mandatory the trash can accumulate around a house and the results are runoff and blow away that can enter water streams and be trapped in vegetation. With so many avenues that pollution can come from it can harm a variety of ecosystems. If pollution enters the waterways, it can harm fish, turtles, and other organisms that grow and live in the water. The toxins in the water can harm the creatures that drink the water as well as us humans who hunt and eat the animals.

According to Carrie Lamb who is the water quality compliance officer here in Springfield there are estimated to be over 600,000 pieces of waste in our waterways and of that 60%, is plastic waste. 600,000 pieces of trash just in the waterways, not even considering what is on the streets and around businesses. That is almost 3 pieces of trash for every citizen here in Springfield. There are also estimated to be almost 50,000 cigarette buds polluting the waters as well. With all that in our waterways, it is causing harm to the wildlife here in the Ozarks as well as contaminating our waters as those plastics start to break down.

Fishing and fishing tournaments are a very large part of outdoor activities here in the Ozarks. People come from all around to fish at Fellows Lake, Table Rock Lake, and Lake Taneycomo. It brings families together and helps provide food for those who catch something for dinner. Imagine that as you reel in that bass or a trout, and you notice something is off with your catch. You bring it up and start to gut what will be your family’s dinner only to find that it is full of plastic. While you are gutting your trout frying it up and eating it, you do not realize that there are toxins from those microplastics(broken down plastics) lodged in the meat that you cannot see. It is an everyday danger when plastics start breaking down in the water.

“Rather than biodegrading, plastic waste often breaks down into tiny pieces known as microplastics (less than 5 mm in size), which are nearly impossible to clean up once they are in the environment”. According to the EPA on Aquatic Trash (Learn About Aquatic Trash).  Having those microplastics in the water can cause the animals to mistake them for food, which can cause them to suffocate or drown. It can also cause them to feel full, so they do not end up eating what they need, and they end up starving themselves. “Once ingested, this debris can damage their digestive tract and interfere with an animal’s ability to feed, … Scientists have found that at least 558 species, including turtles, seabirds, and marine mammals are reported to have ingested or become entangled in plastic waste.” (Learn About Aquatic Trash). “Microplastics have been detected in the water around the world, including our streams, rivers, lakes, and oceans. In these waterways, the microplastics end up in the water we drink and the fish we eat, including shellfish.” (How does plastic pollution harm water) “Once the plastic is eaten, it cannot be digested and ends up harming the animal by lodging in the gut. Plastic bags also can suffocate animals.” (How does plastic pollution harm water). Plastic ingestion can trickle up the food chain with humans drinking and eating them. It’s crucial to our waterways, and forests to keep nature free of these pollutants as they will have long-lasting effects.

Having a safe and clean environment can have a ripple effect across the community. “Missouri has more than 110,000 miles of running water, which is the product of the land surrounding them. Their watersheds consist of uplands, floodplains, stream corridors, stream channels, and groundwater.” (Ozark Streams). As stated by the Missouri Department of Conservation. If we keep these waters clean then we have a safe place to swim, boat, hunt, and hike. All the outdoor stuff that so many families and friends come to Missouri to enjoy.

There is a lot that the community can do to make a large impact on their local environment. Reducing your plastic consumption is the first step big step to making a large impact. There is a reason the reduce is the first of the Reduce Reuse Recycle slogan. If we did not use plastic bags, plastic straws, plastic water or soda bottles, and food wrappers, then none of that would enter the waterways or get stuck in brush and trees. States like New Jersey, New York, and California are starting to ban single-use plastics to help with the plastic consumption and pollution. Reusing what you have also keeps things out of the landfills and recycling centers. Glass jars are a great thing to have as you can use them to store food and drinks as well as use them to refill soaps and cleaners from a local refill store. Recycling is the last defense in the line to keep things out of the landfill. There are three recycling centers in Springfield where you can recycle certain plastics, cardboard, paper, glass, and aluminum. The recycling centers also take other things but there may be a charge for them like mattresses. It is important to have these programs in place in a large city such as Springfield because according to Laurie Davis, there are estimated to be 50-65 years left of the landfill in its current state. According to Bob Belote who is the Director of Parks for the Springfield-Greene County Park Board, “Three years ago, we got a 42-acre expansion, plus a 200-foot vertical expansion to go up from where we initially are, which would make us the second-highest point in Greene County when we top out.” Keeping things out of the landfill and being mindful of what we throw out is a great step for any neighborhood.

In the city of Springfield, there are programs that are coordinated by Laurie Davis who is the Educational Outreach Coordinator which is called Adopt-A-Street and Adopt-A-Stream. “Both of those are run primarily through our public works department because they provide bags and grabbers for a clean up and those can be done like there's a list of available streets.” Said, Laurie. There is a program run by Rachel Tripp called Clean Green SGF, where volunteer groups meet once or twice a year to tackle larger areas that are heavily polluted, and they clean up those areas. According to their website in the Fall of 2021, they had a total of 300 volunteers who together collected “500 bags of litter were collected from

Springfield roadways, streams, and neighborhoods, totaling approximately 3.84 tons.” (Clean Green Fall 2021 Results). “Clean Green volunteers also registered to help support Neighborhood Cleanups resulting in more than 67 tons of trash and bulky items removed from neighborhoods and kept from illegal dump sites.” (Clean Green Fall 2021 Results). Just in the months of October and November, they were able to make that large of an impact here in Springfield. It shows just how large the problem is. But unfortunately, programs like this can’t afford to run throughout the year. The city doesn’t have the manpower. However, neighborhoods can start their own cleanup crews at any point in time. You can recycle at the proper facilities, and you can report any illegal dumping by calling the Citizen Service Request or call 417-864-1010.

Having a clean and safe neighborhood free from solid waste pollution can have a positive impact on the local environment. You can walk, swim, hike, and hunt all without the harm that the pollutants can cause. It makes the neighborhoods look better and in turn, makes the communities and their inhabitants feel better about the city that they live in. Laurie Davis said that the motto is “Our combined efforts make one big impact”. We need to remember that it will take the whole community coming together, businesses and individuals alike, to make that impact. Trash companies taking responsibility for their trucks having fly away garbage, communities coming together to make their own cleanup crews and partner with cities’ sustainability departments to get supplies if they are ready, and make sure to dispose of the litter you pick up the proper way. If you have any questions, you can contact the Landfill to see what they accept as well as any of the recycling plants to recycle what you can. Together we can clean and change our city.