#especially coming from somewhere we get 6 inches of snow ALL YEAR

[somethingcorenotsure]

I hope you guys understand that not every electric car is a Roadster or a P100D Model X or whatever. Not every electric car is too expensive for the average person to even think about owning. Not even all Teslas are! The Model 3 is meant to be more affordable - looking at the base model and not the ultra fast one. The Y is comparable in price to hybrid SUVs.

Nissan Leafs are good electric cars. There are electric Fords and Chevys and Hyundais!

Any new car is going to be expensive. Most new electric cars are not that much more than most new cars are.

[wicked-mind]

Betrayed: Chapter Three

Summary: Everybody thought Steve’s sister had passed away decades ago. But when you show up at the facility and try to attack Bucky, there are questions to be answered.

Word count: 5.2k

Warning: A bit of violence, talk of kidnapping and torture, talk of surgery, a hint of PTSD

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NOTE: I would like to thank everybody for your support. As I previously said, this is the first time posting any sort of creative writing on any platform. As a thank you, I'll be releasing two chapters today (3/19/21). Again, any feedback is appreciated. Enjoy (:

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CHAPTER THREE- The Truth

It had been about 6 months since Y/N arrived at at the facility. She liked it here. She was able to get to know who her brother was now, hearing about his stories. He was careful to try and leave Bucky out of it as much as possible, but sometimes he would come up. The more Steve talked about Bucky, the less Y/N would flinch at his name. It’s like Steve was replacing that bad memory of him taking her with new ones about how Bucky had redeemed himself, sacrificing everything to help protect the universe from Thanos.

“I always imagined you like this, Steve.” Y/N had said to him one day, gesturing at him as she listened to his stories, “Even though you were five foot, four inches and weighed nothing, I always knew this was the real you.��� She smiled, at him, to which Steve laughed and replied, “I’m glad someone saw passed my height.”

Y/N trained with Clint and Wanda. Although Y/N and Clint had a bit of a rough start with the arrow thing as well as calling her a vampire, they became friends quickly. Joking at one another often, especially during training. He had nicknamed her ‘Little Vampire’. Her abilities began to hone in, and she hadn’t had an outburst of violence since the night she arrived. Besides her brother, Wanda was the person Y/N was closest with. They even shared a bedroom now, and others in the neighboring bedrooms often heard laughing throughout the night coming from the bedroom. They did almost everything together. Train, eat, watch movies, occasionally go shopping. Wanda even taught Y/N how to drive, testing out the fast cars on the long stretch of road leading to the facility.

There was still one problem though. Bucky. Y/N couldn’t be in the same room as Bucky, which everybody noticed. For the first few months, when Bucky entered a room that Y/N was in or vice versa, the room would get quiet. It was like there was a stare down between the two. Y/N would tense up, her red eyes locking on Bucky. Out of respect and guilt, Bucky always left the room, even if he was there first. He caused her enough pain for a lifetime, he didn’t want to be a constant reminder of the worst time of her life. He owed her that much. At least he could hear her laugh with Wanda. Sometimes he would stay awake at night, either laying in his bed or standing outside her door and listening to her laugh. He missed Y/N’s laugh so much. He used to hear it almost everyday growing up, watching her smile. Her joy was always infections to others, especially him. He often wondered when the last time she laughed was. He was sure she didn’t laugh until she came here and met Wanda. The first time he heard her laugh while Y/N has been here, he smiled, standing around a corner as he listened to Wanda and Y/N watch the cheesy Captain America movie. Bucky wished more than anything he could join in the laughter. He wanted to feel the warmth that Y/N always brought him, but knew he wasn’t what she needed or wanted right now.

After about 4 months, they were able to be in the same room. Bucky had been sitting at the kitchen bar, talking to Steve about how he could fix things and help Y/N. When speak of the devil, she walked in alone. Usually her and Wanda were always together, but this time she was alone. She paused when she entered, staring at Bucky who was looking back to her. She then moved to the fridge, grabbing out some grape juice. Her favorite. Wanda made sure it was on the list every week just for her, and if she forgot to put it on the list, Bucky would scribble it down. She grabbed a glass out of a cupboard. She was facing Bucky, but not looking at him. She was focused on her task of getting juice. As she poured, her eyes flicker to meet his gaze. She quickly looked back down until her glass was full. She put the grape juice back in its spot in the fridge, picking up her glass. Her eyes flickered between Steve and Bucky. She gave a soft smile but it faded quickly as she left back the way she came, returning to her room.

Once Steve was sure she was out of earshot, he turned to Bucky, raising his eyebrows, “Progress.” He said with a smile. It was nothing compared to how much Bucky was grinning. This was the first time he had been able to get her to actually look at him, not stare him down or glare like he was her enemy. She even smiled a little bit, probably at Steve, but Bucky was taking it as a win. For the first time in the last four months, he felt hope in being able to be Y/N’s friend again. But he wouldn’t push it, he would wait for her.

Two months later, present time, it was time to answer the hard questions. Steve sat down on his sister’s bed beside her. Wanda had some idea of what happened, as Y/N talked about the trauma to her most. That and the fact Wanda could see inside her head, but only ever did it with Y/N’s permission.

“Y/N, tell us everything you remember.” Steve said, looking at his sister. He needed to know what was done to her, where, and if there were any remaining Hydra agents. He needed to know if there were anymore enhanced humans Hydra could have made.

Y/N looked at her brother, then to Wanda, then to the floor letting out a sigh. She had been dreading. She put her face in her hands, then slowly ran them up through her blonde hair. She hated talking about it, but knew Steve had given her enough time to process her new home.

“Bucky sent me a letter, saying he was coming home from deployment. He set up a date and where to meet. I was so excited to keep our promise.” Y/N swallowed hard, “When we met, he greeted me. He smiled, but there was no emotion in his eyes. I figured it was from the war, you know, needing to adjust. I was just happy he was safe. We talked for a moment, before walking down the street. It was dark, the street lamps were out which I thought was odd. Then suddenly, he grabbed me, pulling me into the trunk of a car. I was in that trunk for what felt like days,” She paused, pushing past the pain it was causing her, “Then, we were outside this bunker. It was snowing, cold. I didn’t know where we were. He took my hood off, holding my arm as he lead me through the doors. I was watched by all these men, wearing a red octopus with a skull on their uniforms. He handed me to them, practically throwing me into their grasp. I looked back at him, pleading for help. He ignored me and followed as the men took me to this medical chamber and strapped me down on a cold table. I could see the medical instruments on a tray. They had these syringes filled with red liquid. I screamed for Bucky to help me, for anybody to help me. Nobody did.. They gagged me and began. I couldn’t tell you what they did, I closed my eyes until I passed out from pain, after seeing Bucky leave the room. I do remember though before I passed out, up in the gallery that overlooked the room, red eyes staring at me.” Y/N said softly, looking at Steve.

“The rest of it is a little blurry. I think I’ve blocked it out of my mind after I was made into this, knowing I wouldn’t want to remember. Then, after a few years, something happened. I remember I was called back to that bunker. There were two others with red eyes. They put us in these steel coffin type things.” Y/N paused, before chuckling a little bit which shocked Steve, “Don’t tell Clint that, it’ll just make the vampire thing a little too real for him.” She joked for a moment, but not hearing any laughter she sighed and continued, “They put us to sleep. When I woke up, seven months ago, it took days of punching that steel coffin until I was able to get it open.” She traced the silver scars on her knuckles, remembering blood, although there wasn’t much pain, “But that wasn’t the end of the it. Wherever they put me, I was buried. I had to claw my way through dirt, grass, and two feet of snow until I saw grey skies. It was snowing. I fled to the nearest city, hiding in an abandoned building. I could feel something in my brain, trying to tell me to go back and sleep. I itched at the spot until I could feel my skull and stole a drill from a nearby family. I drilled out the spot of my skull, then pried the chip out with my fingers. I left it in that building.” Y/N was now staring at the wall as she spoke, her face emotionless. She knew Wanda was watching her memories vividly, wincing as she watched the process of taking the chip out, “It didn’t take long after that for me to see your face everywhere, and the face of the Avengers. I had to find you and I did. You know the rest from there.”

It was silent in the room for a minute. Steve was holding back some tears hearing about his sister’s torture with Hydra, not wanting her to see. Wanda had the saddest look on her face, feeling like she was there herself through Y/N’s memories. Steve broke the silence, “Thank you for telling me,” He said, putting a hand on his sister’s back. He didn’t want to make her relive this, but he got the information him and the team needed. There were more of these red-eyes buried somewhere, just waiting to escape.

What they didn’t know, is Bucky was outside the door, listening to every word Y/N said. He felt nauseous hearing her stories. The sweet woman he knew.. She had been taken and forced into this traumatic life. Taken by his own hand. A tear ran down his cheek which he quickly wiped away. When she was done talking, he stood up and went back to his own room before they could catch him eavesdropping. He felt full of rage at Hydra but more importantly at himself. No wonder she tried to kill him. Half of him wishes she did, he deserved it and maybe it would’ve brought her more peace. But the other half of him was glad she did save him, wanting to prove himself to her that he wasn’t that person and that he was the same Bucky Y/N remembered from watching their sunrise.

After Steve had shared the information for the team, they decided to mobilize and search out this base. It would be at most a week they were gone. Everybody was going, besides Y/N, Bucky, and Clint who had promised his family not to go into any more dangerous missions unless absolutely necessary. Y/N pleaded with Steve not to go, or at least leave Wanda behind with her. But Steve had told his sister they needed to go, make sure everything was safe, and Wanda needed to go as well as she had seen the bunker and its layout in her head. Reluctantly, Y/N agreed.

Two days into the longest week of her life since she had been back, Y/N sat on her bed, missing her friends and her brother. She had skipped training with Clint, mostly staying in her room and listening to music Wanda had showed her. It made her happy listening to music. Sometimes Wanda and Y/N would blast the music in their room, dancing together and laughing. They were some of her happiest moments since she’s been at the facility.

On the third night, Y/N went out into the kitchen to have herself some leftover soup. She waited as it heated in the microwave, freezing when she heard another person enter the room. She slowly turned, only to lock eyes with blue eyes she had hated for so long. Bucky stopped and looked at her, before speaking softly to break the silence, “Sorry.. I’ll come back later.” He said, turning to leave, breaking their eye contact. Then a miracle happened.

“It’s fine, I’m almost done..” Y/N said softly, turning back to watch the timer on the microwave. Bucky stood there staring at her. This is the first thing she had said to him since she healed the bite on his neck. His heart leaped in his chest, hearing her acknowledge him. It was just adding to the hope that one day they could be back to friends again. Her voice was like soft music to his ears, so sweet. He didn’t approach her, just took a seat. He didn’t want to get too close to her and make her uncomfortable and take back this progress of her speaking to him. He thought of her like a scared animal. If he moved the progress too fast then she would run. He watched as she grabbed the bowl from the microwave, a spoon, and a napkin. Then Y/N retreated back to her room, not saying another word. She shut the door behind her.

Bucky smiled to himself, “Progress.” He said softly, making himself a sandwich and heading back to his room. He felt accomplished. She had actually spoken to him, directly to him. Alone. She didn’t run, or attack him. Bucky viewed this as a big step towards reaching his goal of having Y/N trust him again.

In the early morning hours, Y/N had a nightmare. A bad one. She was seeing the faces of those she hurt, those she killed. Then it changed to her punching herself out of that metal coffin, screaming to be free, digging through the rough earth trying to find air. She tossed and turned, sweating, before letting out a scream. The scream woke Clint and Bucky up, who now stood outside her door in the hallway looking at each other as they heard her whimpering and screaming from the other side.

“Okay, you go in.” Clint said, looking at Bucky.

Bucky looked at Clint in disbelief, “Are you kidding? She hates me. Well, I think we are one level down from hate because she talked to me, but still. At least she likes you, you go in.” He countered

Clint shook his head, “Nope. Nu-uh. After hearing about the coffin thing, I’m still not convinced she isn’t a vampire.” He whispered softly, “Vampire beats human every time. You got the superhuman stuff, if she bites you at least we know what happens. If she bites me, I may die quicker than she’s willing to give me her blood.” He said, “Plus you're stronger and she scares me a little.”

Bucky opened his mouth to argue, but was silenced by another muffled scream. He glared at Clint before opening the door. If this took back the new progress he had just made with Y/N, he wouldn’t know what to do. He peeked in her room, seeing Y/N laying on the bed, clutching her pillow so hard that it starting spitting feathers out of the seams. It pained him to see her like this. He could see tears down her visible cheek, the pain on her face.

“Y/N?” He asked softly, not wanting to touch her yet, just wanting to wake her gently. It didn’t work though, she didn’t wake. Bucky slowly moved to the side of her bed, sitting at the edge next to her. He slowly reached his hand out to touch her and paused, wondering if he should. But then he heard Y/N whimper again, letting out a half sob half scream. His instincts took over and he grabbed her quickly, pulling her into his chest and holding her tight. She gripped onto his shirt, her nails ripping through and digging into his chest. Bucky winced, but it was worth it to hold her, trying to calm her, “I got you, Y/N. You’re safe… It’s all over, I got you.” He whispered towards her ear, noting the scar behind her left ear. He knew exactly what it was from. The sobbing stopped, as did the screaming. He looked down at her face to see the red eyes staring at him. He paused, wondering what was going to happen. Would she attack him? Push him away? He wouldn’t blame her for either of those options. He just wanted to be there for Y/N, let her know she was safe.

Y/N stayed silent for quite a while, just staring at Bucky’s eyes. The way he looked at her was familiar. His eyes weren’t emotionless. She saw his sadness, worry, guilt.

“Bucky..” She whispered finally, breaking the silence.

Bucky’s heart melted, listening to her say his name without rage in her voice. She said his name like she did before he left for deployment, but with a little more sadness in her voice. Then she curled into him more, which made his heart melt again. He willingly pulled her closer, “I got you, Doll,” He said as he ran his hand through her hair, “You’re safe. You never have to do those things again.” He knew exactly what she was dreaming about when it came to the faces. He had the same nightmares for a long time, unable to sleep for months because of it. He held her until she was asleep, gently placing her back into bed and pulling the covers over her body. He sat on Wanda’s bed, watching her all night. Every couple hours, Y/N would wake up and look over at him as if to make sure Bucky was still there, before going back to sleep, pressing her face into her pillow.

In the morning, Clint called Bucky into the briefing room to get an update from the rest of the team. They had to break down the steel doors to the bunker to get in, but didn’t find any evidence of any survivors or the remaining red-eyes. They were going to search the area a little more before heading back home. They also wanted to try and find the chip that Y/N had clawed out of her brain seven months ago to try and see if they could get any information off that.

As the sun hit her face, Y/N’s eyes opened slowly, looking around the room. She was alone. She started to wonder if it was all just a dream that Bucky was there, holding her, keeping an eye on her. It had felt too real to be a dream. She sat up slowly, noticing the feathers on her sheets. Definitely not a dream, she concluded. She dragged herself out of bed and made her way to the bathroom to shower.

Y/N stood still as the warm water hit her back. Her mind racing a million miles per hour as she thought about last night with Bucky. He came in to help her, and she accepted it. She shook her head, bringing her hands to her face. She couldn’t believe she did that. She let him in, giving him a chance. Her traumatic time with Hydra had made her hate him. But Y/N knew that somewhere, inside herself, she knew the truth that he was still the Bucky she remembered. She didn’t want to trust him, to let him in. It was easier if she didn’t because then he couldn’t betray her trust again. She sunk to the floor of the shower, pushing her back against the tile wall, and cried.

After about a half hour of crying in the shower, she finished washing her hair and herself and finally stepped out, wrapping the towel around herself. She stared at herself in the mirror as she ran the brush through her hair. Looking around the bathroom, she cursed under her breath as she realized she forgot a change of clothes. She would have to scurry back to her room with the towel wrapped around her.

She opened the door and started to walk back to her room, but stopped as she saw Bucky at the end of the hallway, looking at her with those damn blue eyes. Y/N looked down, turning and disappearing into her bedroom, shutting the door behind her.

Bucky stood there, he had looked her over as she stood frozen for a moment. Noting all the small silver scars across her pale body that he could see. She had many on her shoulders and legs. Some of them looked like scars of bites, like someone had bit her over and over again. They were along her shoulders also ran up her legs until they disappeared under the towel secured around her body. It made him sad to see her like that. He remembered she only had a few scars when they were younger, from dumb instances like falling off a bike or falling when she ran to keep up with him. But now, she was covered in scars. He sighed as she left without a sound to him, wondering if the progress they had made disappeared.

The next few days, Y/N stayed in her room, only coming out to train with Clint and get food. The rest of the time she sat on her bed, reading or listening to music. The team were supposed to be back tomorrow and Y/N couldn’t wait to see Wanda and her brother. It felt like she hadn’t seen them in months. She had gotten so used to them being around all the time that she didn’t know she would miss them this much when they were gone on a mission. There weren’t many phone calls, just quick check-ins with Clint.

She finally pulled herself out of bed, throwing on some black leggings and a dark blue shirt. She brushed her hair and teeth in the bathroom, before making her way to the kitchen. She grabbed herself a bowl of cereal and moved to the living room, turning on the tv to watch some dumb reality show that filled the silence around her. She noticed Bucky and Clint walk into the kitchen, they must’ve been training. They were both discussing who won their sparring as they grabbed water bottles out of the fridge.

“I see you...”

The sound made Y/N jump. It sounded like it was right in her ear. She looked around, looked behind her to see Bucky and Clint still talking. She put her bowl on the coffee table, turning off the tv. She stood, looking around slowly, her forehead wrinkles in frustration and focus as she tried to figure out where the voice came from. She wondered around, looking down hallways.

“Y/N...”

The voice came again, singing her name in a soft whisper. Y/N jumped and turned, but nobody was there. She didn’t even notice Bucky and Clint were now watching her, confused by her movements.

The voice softly started humming, the sound felt like someone was right in her ears.

“Little Vampy, you okay?” Clint called from the kitchen, his brow furrowed as he watched what was unfolding. Both Clint and Bucky had started moving towards her.

“Little Vampy, huh?” The voice came again, whispering right in her ear. It was deep, a male’s voice. It almost sounded like it was teasing her, “Idiot.” It chuckled and resumed humming.

Y/N turned quickly again at the whisper only to find nobody standing there, her eyes confused but also panicked. She listened to the humming, slowly walking passed Bucky and Clint. She pushed passed Bucky, her arm brushing against his but she didn’t seem to notice. She stopped at a window, staring out it as the humming continued.

“Y/N.” Bucky said, breaking the silence, curious and concerned of what was going on with her. It was like she was almost in a trance.

Y/N silently looked out the window for a moment, the voice that was humming slowly disappearing. She turned and looked at Bucky, her red eyes panicked, “Somethings here..” She said softly, almost a whisper.

Bucky and Clint immediately went on the defense, pulling up motion trackers of the facility but finding nothing except themselves. They searched the whole facility, every nook and cranny, but found nothing. Y/N hid in her room, the curtains shut. The humming had gone away, and she was left with her own thoughts. She sat silently in the room, curled up in one of the corners behind a chair. It was like she was hiding from whatever she was hearing even though it was now gone.

Bucky and Clint entered her room, confused seeing nothing at first which made them panic a little. Bucky scanned the room, tense. Where had she gone? Was she taken? He shouldn’t have left her alone.. But then he saw the red eyes peer out from behind the chair at him and gave a sigh of relief.

“We couldn’t find anything, Y/N.” Clint said, folding his arms, “Why would you think something is here?” He questioned, confused on why him and Bucky just went on an empty scavenger hunt.

Y/N’s eyes flickered from Bucky to Clint as he spoke, not leaving the safety of the corner on the floor, “I heard him. He’s here.. somewhere.”

“Heard him? Heard who?” Bucky asks, moving to sit on the edge of Y/N’s bed, trying to make her more comfortable by letting her know he was here for her.

“I don’t know who.” She said, staring Bucky in the eyes, “It was familiar, his voice. He said my name, was listening to your conversation in the kitchen. He knew where we were and what we were doing. He was right in my ears…” Y/N moved her hands back to grip the sides of her head, “Whispering…” She mutters, then looked up at Clint, “He called you an idiot.”

“Well, I already don’t like him.” He said, folding his arms, “We will keep an eye on the motion sensors, do checks of the facility throughout the day just to be sure. I’ll send an update to the rest of the team. They should be back soon with the chip.” Clint informed, leaving the room promptly.

Bucky stayed in the room, sitting there silently. He wanted to ask Y/N if there was anything she needed, but he was cautious. He didn’t want to get too close. He didn’t want to push Y/N. They sat there in silence for what felt like hours, but was really only one. Y/N picked herself up off the floor, looking at Bucky, then looking around the room as if to make sure it was safe. She could feel Bucky’s eyes on her, watching her closely to try and get a read on how she was doing.

“I’m fine, Bucky..” Y/N finally said, her eyes eyes locking with his, before exiting her own bedroom. She went back to grab her bowl of now soggy cereal from the coffee table. She took it to the sink, pouring it down the drain and turning the disposal on for a moment to shred the cereal. She washed her bowl and spoon, then set them on a towel to dry. Y/N placed her hands on the edge of the counter, staring at the granite. What was she hearing inside her head? Who was it and why did it sound so familiar? She had clawed that chip out of her brain over half a year ago, she shouldn’t be hearing the voices. She wondered if she was slowly going insane, if it was the voices of those she killed catching up to her.

“Y/N,” It was Bucky’s voice behind her, but she didn’t move from where she stood, still staring at the granite, “I know you would prefer to talk to Wanda or Steve…. but you can talk to me while they’re not here…” He said softly, wanting to understand what was going on in her head. He wanted to help her.

“I feel like I’m going insane…” Y/N said, eyes still studying the granite as she kept her back to him, “Or being haunted. I feel like my mind isn’t safe.”

Bucky nodded slowly, “It’s the guilt, Y/N. You were forced to do terrible things to people. It wasn’t you. You’d never do that.” He said, moving closer to her.

Y/N shook her head, scoffing at his words, “I would do that. I bit you. I threw Steve. I am capable of violence, I was trained for it.” Her hands gripped the edge of the counter harder, it was starting to crack under her strength. Pieces of fractured granite pierced into her palms, causing droplets of her blood to run down the cupboards to the floor.

Bucky quickly moved when he heard the splintering granite and seeing the blood, pulling Y/N away from the counter, forcing her to look him in the face as his arms held hers, “Y/N. You were trained, yes. You did awful things, yes. But it wasn’t you. You are Y/N Rogers. The girl who loves dancing, adores sunflowers, and hates coffee.” He reminded, “You are letting yourself feel the guilt for something you had no control over. You wouldn’t have done those things if you had a choice. You need to take all that sadness, frustration, and guilt and let it go.” He urged. He knew what she was going through. He dealt with the emotions for a long time, his ghosts haunting him ruthlessly. But he had come to accept the things he couldn’t change, and work to make up for his mistakes everyday.

Y/N stared at him, allowing him to hold her arms, listening to his words. He was the only one who knew what it was like to do the things she had done without having control of yourself. She finally spoke, sadness in her eyes, “I may still love the same things, but I don’t feel like the same person.” She told him, moving away from his grasp and retreating back to her bedroom.

Bucky cleaned up the blood and the splinters of granite on the floor for her after she was gone. He was hoping she would think about his words, accepting them eventually. She couldn’t keep torturing herself and needed to come to terms with what happened to her. She needed to accept and move on into a better life like he had. He had faith she could do it.

TAGLIST: @vicmc624 @the-ayo-lit @daddysfavoritesexkitten @springsoulofengland @tcc-gizmachine @taina-eny @dontputyourfckingdrinkonmytable

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[thumbgarden]

Does the edging around tree roots need to be dug out

Controversies over the re-cultivation of fruit tree washers have existed, and it probably remains as long as the orchards still are located somewhere. Only recently has the controversy about what to do with the area between the rows of the orchard subsided. Either iron it with a tractor, compact the soil and carry the humus with the wind to the neighbor's field, or still mow the grass at an early stage, before it sends out seeds. Everything is clear here. They decided to mow and seem to have put an end to it, but digging up near-trunk circles is a completely different matter. This article will give you an introduction to the issue of edging around a tree.

OPTIONS FOR THE MAINTENANCE OF FRUIT TREE SEEDBEDS In fact, there are many variants of fruit tree bed circle maintenance, here black fallow (just digging), but also sodding, and mulching, each of these activities having advantages and disadvantages. For example, tilling the soil in the root zone and mulching the same can work well together, also including watering and fertilizing, while increasing the effectiveness of these agricultural practices. But if you do nothing, you can also get nothing. Often, after reading some of the knowledge on the site, the gardener will come to some agreement after weighing the pros and cons. And in this, he is still helped by his physical strength (Not everyone is strong enough to dig through the circle of planting trees).

ADVANTAGES OF RECULTIVATING FRUIT TREE BEDS Let's start with the advantages of recultivation of the shelterbelt of absolutely any fruit tree. First of all, and perhaps most importantly, when digging a fruit tree bed, all kinds of pests that spend the winter there die off. Here's how we do it: First, we remove all the branches, leaves, litter, and fallen fruit from the tree nursery circle, and then we dig on top of it with a shovel. That means that all those places where "bugs and spiders" can hide are gone, and they are collected in a pile and buried somewhere in the garden. In addition, if the garden suffers from pests this year, then digging the soil without the use of mulching humus can promote the winter stage of pests and diseases, those that decide not to overwinter in fallen leaves or stripped wood, but precisely in the soil layer, right at the depth of its digging 4-6inch (10-15 cm). Only in this case, the soil after excavation should not be leveled, leaving it loose (in lumps) and remain so.

Another undoubted advantage is soil aeration: by digging the soil, even if it seems to be insignificant in-depth, about 4-6inch (10-15 cm), we will considerably increase the exchange of air and water in the soil and break the soil crust. Thus, water can easily penetrate the soil and its surplus (which is indeed a lot this year) will be evaporated; the roots can consume the substances dissolved in the water. In order for the process to go smoothly, they need not only water and substances dissolved in water but also air. Addendum 3: By digging up the soil, we absolutely eliminate all competitors that can compete with a tree (even a mature one) for food and water. And this is of course all kinds of weeds, some of which, such as dandelions or creeping couch grass are very greedy. If the tree is in the country, where you are not often there, rarely do fertilizer, and only occasionally water the soil, then their complete elimination - a great benefit for the plant - is like a sigh of relief to stop sharing water and food (sometimes very scarce) with their rivals. On thick soil, if there is not enough space (space is always scarce), it is possible to grow fast-growing shade crops, vegetables, radishes, especially when the plants are still very young, if, of course, the culture has a sufficient supply of food and water. But before that, it is necessary to prepare the soil adequately, dig it up, fertilize it, make ridges, etc., so it must be ideal and nutritious black fallow land.

DISADVANTAGES OF DIGGING UP THE SOIL AT THE ROOTS OF FRUIT TREES It seems that everything is wonderful and we grab the spade, however, such an aggressive push can also have disadvantages. The most common disadvantage is that we can injure the plant's root system by driving the spade's bayonet into its full length. Remember: It is best to dig above the biting zone to a depth of 4-6inch (10-15 cm), and there is no need to dig any deeper. You can either expose the roots or damage them: exposed roots freeze in winter, and infection can easily invade through damaged roots, for example through an open gate. There is nothing to say about this, but you must agree that this is a disadvantage, not of the method itself, but of the gardener, especially the untrained beginner, who, after reading these lines, will no longer do so. The second disadvantage - is that, strange as it may seem, frequent replanting may not improve but deteriorate the quality of the soil, especially in years with frequent winds and droughts: the wind can insignificantly blow away the nutrient layer of the replanted soil. But there are many nuances: first of all, what kind of soil your site has: if it is chernozem, then this is what is called "blowing away" the nutrient layer under the force of a hurricane that will only be a hurricane, but then it will hurt everything around, not just this tree. If the soil is light and sandy, then perhaps there is no need to dig at all, that is, in principle, you can break the soil crust with a negligible amount of loose soil.

The severe loss of moisture is another reason why it is better not to touch the soil. Once again, this applies to the inhabitants of Dacha: if your water sparingly, but often combat weeds by tilling and turning the soil, you will unwittingly stimulate increased evaporation from the soil surface and even deeper, which will naturally deplete soil moisture and cause plants in this "ideal" allotment to dry out from lack of moisture. Again, this is not a problem for the cultivated land, but for the farmer himself: well, who would prevent the establishment of a drip irrigation system or good seeding and moisturizing after each dig. Forgive me, but if there is enough energy to dig up the soil in the root zone, there may be enough energy to water the tree!". By the way, if the soil is not dug up, then, let's say, a light or medium rain will not be absorbed into the soil, but will run down the soil crust, while digging up the soil, although risky, both have the opportunity to enrich the water. Finally - replanting the soil in the fall, especially for newly planted plants and drupes, can lead to mediocre freezing of the root system and is very dangerous, causing the same infection and possibly the death of the plant as a whole. However, who can stop the mulch from covering the soil, the mulch will penetrate to deeper levels, covered by snow, and when the snow melts, it will become the first food for the same young plants, which will be happy with such a gift and will use it until you have plants on impassable soil. Therefore, most gardeners still favor turning the soil in the root zone of fruit trees, but do it wisely!

WHEN SHOULD I DIG EDGING AROUND TREE? Most fruit growers are in favor of keeping the rootstock clean and recultivating it, i.e. black fallow under apple or pear trees, cherry or plum trees, etc. In this case, one digging is not enough to solve any problem and it is better to hold it four or even five times during the season. Usually, the first time is in the early spring when the snow melts and the soil warms up. By shoveling during this time, the soil warms up more quickly. Waiting a week allows the soil to warm up better and allows you to cover the soil with about 1 inch of compost to provide additional nutrients for your plants. In addition, compost that has been forgotten can inhibit weed growth and reduce evaporation and overheating of the soil. You can also combine soil tilling with compost by applying a fertilizer such as liquid ammonium hydrogen phosphate (one tablespoon per bucket of water and a few liters under the tree). In this case, try not to dig directly on the trunk (this is generally dangerous for drupe fruits, with a sensitive root neck: there it will collect water and the root neck will begin to wilt), because here, in general, is thick, keeping the roots of the plant, a little further away, 5-6inch (12-15 cm) from the trunk (in this area are often located the absorbing roots, the most active). The benefit obtained from this (correct) excavation will be the greatest.

Important! When digging in the soil around the tree, place the spade on the edge (during the growth of the roots, not through them), only then will you minimize the risk of damaging the tree's root system.

Make a second dig in mid-summer, combining it with an application of potassium sulfate (15-20 grams per square meter, also preferably in liquid form), removing weeds, and watering if necessary (several buckets per tree). Then you can mulch 1.1lb (0.5kg) of compost under each tree (after digging).

Important: When placing moist compost under stone plants, try to keep it 0.8-1.2inch (2-3cm) away from the roots to avoid drying out the compost, and under no circumstances should you pile fertilizer - including other types of mulch - on top.

The need for third cultivation is usually determined by weeds and root zone litter caused by soil compaction. It also costs money to remove weeds and apply fertilizer, but this time with wood ash (a source of potassium and trace elements, as well as soot) or soot 250-300 g under each plant. You can also mulch the plants with compost at 1.1lb (0.5kg) per plant. The fourth digging can be done in September and can be combined with watering by pouring 5-6 buckets of water under each plant for 3-4 days. At the end (after digging), you can also cover the surface with a 0.4inch (1cm) half-thick compost to prevent water evaporation. Covering with compost can help protect roots that have been accidentally damaged by digging up the soil. The last plowing, already the fifth in a row, can be done 5-7 days before the start of a sustained period of temperatures below 32°F (0°C). Here you need to get rid of all plant pruning, dig it up and cover it with a 1.5-2inch (4-5cm) layer of humus to protect the roots from frost damage.

#ThumbGarden #GardeningTips #GrowTree #FruitTree #Tree #Tips #HowTo #Shrubs #Trees #SmartIdeas #Orchard #Garden #LargeGarden #MediumGarden #SmallGarden #OutdoorGarden #Idea #Care #Inspired

Author: Ms.Geneva Link: https://www.thumbgarden.com/does-the-edging-around-tree/ Source: ThumbGarden The copyright belongs to the author. For commercial reprints, please contact the author for authorization, and for non-commercial reprints, please indicate the source.

[sparkie96]

5 & 6! Y'know like the song!

Leon slumped against the bars of the gold cage, the twenty-one year-old clearly exhausted. He didn't know why he had been taken from his campus, nor why he had been sold to this "Gabriel" asshole. All he did know was that he was trapped in this mansion somewhere in the Mediterranean with this man and his harem of Eros or something like that.

The man also grafted actual wings on to his back. Big, feathery, white wings like that of a snow white dove released on one's wedding day. He didn't know how Gabriel had done it, nor where the wings had come from, but now Leon's back hurt like hell due to the surgery and the weight of the wings themselves. 

He felt another hand reach through the bars to caress his wings, making the blonde swat away the offending limb. An old man and his wife chuckled, the wife looking in awe at the young man's wings. 

Leon glared at them, banging at the bars angrily. He couldn't stand these stupid parties. Being put on display for all of these perverts to see. To touch him as they pleased while he was trapped in this big, ugly, gold cage. Especially now that he was some "freak". He didn't want to be here, he wanted to go home back to his old life, before this slavery bullshit. Before some psycho attached giant wings on to his…

He heard gunshots, several of which pierced the room and through some of the patrons. A couple stray bullets passed him, but several caught at his one wing. Leon cried out, the pain excruciating...as though he could feel the pain. How could he feel this?! Crimson stained white as he bled, and Leon passed out in shock. 

_______________________

When he awoke, he was in a cold room, almost like a cell, he thought. Though, not your standard jail cell, or even the odd room at the mansion. No, this one was clear glass on all sides, a bed which he laid on sat on one side and some machines sat next to his bed. He noticed he was connected to some of them. 

Leon grunted as he was reminded of his….attachments. One wing outstretched behind him as he sat up in the cot while his right one struggled to go as far as the other, but was unable to. The blonde reached back, fingers meeting bandages as he felt around the area. He tried to flex his wing once more, but to no avail. He whimpered as he reached back to try and flex it, crying out as he touched the injured limb, now realizing just how much it hurt. 

Deciding that he was better off not messing around with his wing too much, he decided to try and figure out just where the hell he was. He certainly did not recognize this area...and yet, it didn't look like any of the slave facilities he had been forced to train at. He would have been bound or tied down if that was the case. 

"It's okay. You're safe." A voice called out as a door on the far left wall opened. 

Leon turned toward the source of the voice, a handsome older gentleman walked in, clad in armor of some sort. It looked almost military, but Leon couldn't place it. He had never seen the symbol that the man wore either. Maybe once...when Ark had been going off on one of his "Conspiracy Theories" rants. But he still couldn't place the symbol. 

"Sorry about the cell." The man apologized, sitting in the chair in front of his cage, "We weren't sure if you were contaminated with a virus of some sort considering you have...uh, wings that actually respond to pain and move...almost like they're apart of your anatomy."

Leon stayed quiet, watching the elder and studying him with interest. Eyes found the man's name badge on his chest, "Redfield…." Leon whispered aloud, "...are you related to Aunt Claire?" 

The man looked at his tag and then at the brunette, giving a friendly smile and a nod, "My name is Chris Redfield...Claire is my little sister. What's your name?" 

"...I'm Leon...Leon Kennedy…" 

______________

After several more check-ups and blood tests, Leon was given the option to have his wings removed. The only complication would be spinal and nerve damage as well as the risk of paralysis. He could always keep them as well, but he would have to be kept under constant supervision. 

So, Leon went with the latter, deciding that he would rather live with his wings rather than risk paralysis or possible injury. His wing gradually healed, and he was sent to live with Chris until they could locate his grandparents...although Leon really didn't want to go back home to them. They weren't exactly the kindest folks and he had a closer relationship with the Nanny and the Butler than he did with his grandparents. 

Not only that, but he had grown quite close to Chris in the time that Leon had known him. He had stayed with Leon, moving the younger from a cell to a room, Chris telling him all about his Aunt Claire and how Chris knew of Leon. He found himself becoming drawn to Chris, kissing the man on the cheek one night before bed as he bid the man good night. He hadn't missed the way Chris blushed and smiled shyly, bidding the younger goodnight as well. 

And then, there was the proposition; Chris had asked him to come live with him. And Leon of course had said yes. 

The college student looked around the farmhouse with interest. It was in the beautiful open fields somewhere in Canada, and Leon loved every second of it so far. He took off his jacket, wings flapping a couple of times to get the feeling back into them, hovering a couple inches off of the ground briefly before landing once more. Chris chuckled at the admittedly cute sight. 

"Adjusting to your wings, I see." Chris said, watching as he shook out his feathers, "And you have plenty of space if you want to try flying." 

Leon's wings twitched curiously, a smile on his lips. Chris carried a couple suitcases full of new clothes and things for Leon, suggesting setting up some safety nets and even getting Leon some padding for when the younger wanted to start practising.

"You also get your own room and there's custom clothes in here with cut-outs for your wings." Chris informed him, "Your bed has that padding and cut-outs in the mattress itself. To help if you ever wanted to sleep on your back or side." 

Leon listened intently, not necessarily listening to every detail of what Chris said, but rather just listening to the man's voice. The sound he couldn't get enough of. It was a sound that was music to his ears and brought him ease, the voice of a man he trusted with his life. 

"Leon? Everything alright in there?" Chris asked, waving a hand in front of the younger man's face.

Leon smiled and nodded, getting up on tiptoes and kissing the man on his cheek, "Thank you...for everything." 

There was that blush again, and that bashful smile. Just two of the things Leon loved about the man. Chris leaned down slightly and kissed Leon on the cheek back, making Leon's wings flutter, the younger blushing in return, "You're very welcome."

[all-hail-the-witcher]

questionable government spies: chapter 12

well well well

here we meet again

its only been like huuuuuuu one two seven eleven months

jk 4 I think

anyway todayyy is the 1 year anniversary of this series that so many of you seem to enjoy for some reason

I would like to personally thank my physics teacher for not yelling at me for writing this every day last year in her class, twitch for keeping The Secret and especially fizz n mikey for doin the Encourage and also my sister for putting up with my planning sessions and editing my stuff

its gonna get Spicy kids

but not tonight ;)

HERE IS THE MASTERLIST or you can find it under #spy boys

_________

ship: blush, eventual spruce, the usual

words: 1979

warnings: lots of Bad sex jokes, alberts arm muscles, and black lace underwear

editing: yahhh

_________

quick recap: spot is working with al n race to take down The Gang. they just had their first Official Mission at a factory stealing fake snow and used oscars computer to email the person behind the gang. race has a sprained ankle and is very far gone for spot. Albert and Romeo work at medias coffee shop. blink and much are older than everyone by a few years and work as doctors at the fbi hospital.

________

Race pulled his blue scarf tighter around his neck as he hurried along 8th avenue. Curse Manhattan for being so cold and windy. He definitely hadn’t missed this part of living there.

Finally he stopped outside Medda’s coffee shop and dug around in his bag for the copy of Albert’s key that he had made. It was after 6 so Romeo and Albert were likely already beginning to clean up. Quietly, he unlocked the door and snuck inside.

There was whistling coming from the kitchen which Race immediately recognized as Albert and it was being accompanied by the most horrible off key singing that could only be coming from Romeo. Race smiled as he discarded his dance bag and scarf near the door, pulling his black trench coat around himself tightly as he inched in the direction of the kitchen.

He peeped around the corner and was greeted by the sight of Romeo pretending to be Cinderella as Albert acted out Prince Charming - or, at least that’s what it looked like to him - and had to bite his lip to keep from laughing. He backed up several feet to get a running start and launched himself into the kitchen, thrusting out his arms so his trench coat looked like wings and screamed menacingly before landing in a heap on the floor.

Romeo let out a yelp of surprise and there was the sound of a gun clicking.

“FBI. State your name, and get up slowly with your hands in front of you,” Albert spoke in a well-practiced tone.

Race dramatically flipped up off the floor. “GOTCHA!!” he screamed triumphantly, jumping in circles around his friends.

“Race?” Albert said disbelievingly, withdrawing his gun and putting it back in the holster. “What are you doing here? How did you even get in here? And why can’t you knock like a normal person?”

“I just wanted to see if you still remember the procedure for a 995,” Race smirked as he brushed himself off.

“A 995 is a self reported kidnapping,” Albert sighed. “Sudden entrance of a possible dangerous person is a 741.”

“Same thing,” Race said as he shrugged off his coat.

“It’s not the same thing!” Albert groaned. “They are two very different procedures which you would know if you stuck to- wait a second. Are you wearing dance clothes?”

Race looked down at himself as if noticing his clothes for the first times and Romeo stifled a laugh. “Oh, would you look at that,” he mused, “it would appear that I am.”

“Race,” Albert said, closing his eyes and pinching his nose. “You’ve got a sprained ankle, you shouldn’t be dancing. I told you not to dance today!”

“And I didn’t listen!” Race sang dramatically, doing 5 pirouettes for emphasis. “Really though, I’m fine. I’ll ice it when I get home. But I wasn’t about to pass up having a closing-up-shop dance party with Romeo again.”

“Oh!” Romeo said excitedly, jumping up and down and clapping his hands. “Can we?!”

“Why else am I here, broski?” Race winked, completely missing Albert’s look of complete and utter disapproval in the background.

“To annoy the hell out of us?”

Race considered. “Well, yes that too, but mostly to have a dance party,” he smirked. “Let’s just get out of the kitchen before Medda appears out of thin air and slaps me for being in here.”

“Oh shit, you right, you right,” Romeo said, chasing Race out of the kitchen with a spatula. Albert followed them out a few minutes later, shaking his head and smirking.

“Aright.” Race hopped up on the counter and opened his phone to Spotify, pulling up his and Romeo’s “Trash Pop Playlist” as Albert had so lovingly named it. “Let’s get this party started.”

“Aren’t you going to help us clean?” Albert called from the table he was wiping off.

“Nah man,” Race said, jumping off the counter as Party In The USA began blaring through the shitty bluetooth speaker. “I’m not an employee so therefore it’s not my job. Suck it.”

“Suck it?” Albert asked, his face screwing up in confusion. “What is there to suck?”

“DEEZ NUTS!” Race screamed, launching himself across the room in a single bound and tackling Albert to the floor, effectively using his elbow to pin him down as he stared deeply into his eyes. “You want some?”

Albert blushed furiously as his eyes looked everywhere but at Race. “Um, no….?”

“You sure babe?” Race winked, drawing out his words for extra emphasis. “Nobody can keep their hands off of this bod.”

Albert squirmed under Race’s hold. “I’m ace?”

Race rolled his eyes and crawled off of his friend, reaching down to help Albert up. “Ah yes, you have discovered the one loophole to my apparent charm.” He peeked over Albert’s shoulder and smirked. “Still got a nice ass though, babe.”

Albert slapped him lightly on the shoulder before returning to wiping the tables.

“Is it just me or is it getting hot in here?” Romeo asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Shut up and sing your Miley Cyrus crap,” Albert mumbled as he shot Romeo a look from across the room.

“ITS NOT CRAP!” Race and Romeo screamed at the same time.

Luckily for Albert though, the song changed before he could argue more.

Unluckily for Albert, the next song to play was Power by Justin Bieber.

Extra unluckily for Albert, Race and Romeo had an extremely shitty hip hop dance that went along with this song.

And most unluckily for Albert, the two of them had just jumped up on top of one of the - freshly clean, mind you - tables and begun to perform the nightmare choreography.

Race watched with a smirk as Albert rolled his eyes when he and Romeo reached the chorus. Just to annoy him, he kicked his leg extra hard so that his shoe flew off his foot and landed on the table Albert was cleaning.

“HEY!” Albert yelled, whirling around, his face hot with anger, but there was a hint of a smile tugging at his lips like he was fighting the urge not to laugh. The very look on his face caused Race and Romeo to stare at eachother and double over laughing.  “Keep your shoes on you dumbass.”

Against his better judgement, Race jumped down from the table and strode up to Albert, flexing as he could without laughing - which wasn't very hard. “What did you call me bro?” He asked in his best tough guy voice, sticking his chin up for good measure.

“You heard me,” Albert countered, also flexing, although his arm muscles were much more impressive than Race’s - curse his love for benching. “No shoes, no shirt, no service.”

Race flicked his eyes over to where Romeo was still standing on the table. He had pulled out his phone and was definitely recording. Race bit his lip, knowing that this next trick he was about to pull would be forever documented on snapchat and played on an endless repeat until the day he died. Oh well.

“Really now?” And with one aggressive yank he pulled his shirt over his head, causing it to rip a little, which he honestly wasn't even mad about, it just added to the overall effect. “Cause I’ve now got no shirt, no shoes, and I’d still get service.”

“You technically have one shoe still on,” Albert pointed out rather unhelpfully and Romeo scoffed behind the camera.

“Well then, if you're going to be so painfully literal,” Race turned around and did a glorious hitch kick, effectively wailing his other shoe off of his foot and behind the counter somewhere, ignoring the small crash that came with it. “There. No shirt. No shoes. And I’d still get service.”

“You're just quoting that Pitbull song,” Romeo whispered from his spot on the table.

Race flipped him off without taking his eyes off of Albert.

“That’s all you got?” Albert scoffed. Before Race could blink Albert’s shirt was on the floor and he was being thrown back and pinned on one of the table tops. “How’s that for service?” he winked.

“Is that all you got?” Race imitated Albert’s voice from earlier and raised his eyebrows.

Albert opened his mouth as soon as the door banged open and Mush’s booming voice filled their ears.

“Hello kiddos! The voices of reason have arrived and-” out of the corner of his eye Race could see Mush’s eyes flick over to where Albert had him pinned against the table. “-not a moment too soon apparently. Please, for the love of god, what the hell are you two doing? Are we shooting for the cover of Playboy and nobody told me? I would have brought my black lace underwear!”

“Hi Mush,” Romeo waved, still perched on the table.

“You have black lace underwear?” Blink asked, coming in the door behind Mush and shaking out his long dark hair like a dog would, effectively splattering snow and water all over his boyfriend. “Why haven’t I seen it yet?”

“Cause I’m saving it for after the wedding that's why,” Mush said, sticking his tongue out at Blink who rolled his eyes in annoyance as he pulled off his coat.

“YOU'RE ENGAGED?!” Race screeched, pushing Albert off of him as he ran forward to Blink and Mush, not caring that he was still shirtless and shoeless. “Who has the ring? Who proposed? When’s the wedding? Can I be the flower girl, I’ve always wanted to be a flower girl!”

“Whoa! Hold on bean stick!” Mush laughed. “Of course you can be our flower girl, first of all. I was going to ask you today actually.”

“He was,” Blink confirmed, putting his arm around Mush’s waist protectively as Albert and Romeo walked over. “And I proposed to him on our anniversary last month at the diner where we had our first date.”

“Awwwwww,” Race sighed and he saw Albert crack a smile.

“I cried,” Mush volunteered.

“Yes you did baby,” Blink said affectionately, leaning in to kiss his fiancee.

“Ew,” Albert groaned. “Take your pda elsewhere, some of us are trying to have a nice time here.”

“You're literally shirtless,” Blink pointed out and Albert looked down at his chest as if noticing it for the first time.

“Oh. Well…”

“Why don't you tell them what you were up to, hm?” Romeo raised his eyebrows.

“I was teaching Race a lesson in how to properly receive restaurant service,” Albert said confidently.

Blink looked confused at best and Mush looked intrigued. Romeo laughed and Race shook his head, suddenly remembering that he didn't have a shirt on either. Or shoes…

“Now, if you’ll excuse me,” Albert said. “I have to go get my shirt.”

“Hurry back,” Mush called. “I want to hear all about your field agent adventures. I feel like I haven’t seen you guys since I lectured you on the detriments of blowing up the weapons lab.”

•••

Albert had just finished recounting the time where they had accidentally released 100 five dollar bills into circulation when there was a knock on the window. Race looked up, surprised to see Spot standing on the other side, dressed haphazardly in adidas pants and a tank top despite the cold weather, a wild look in his eyes. He could almost ignore the butterflies swirling in his stomach as he noticed how toned Spot’s arms were. Almost.

Across the table, Albert made eye contact and the two of them rose while Romeo quietly explained to Blink and Mush what was going on.

Albert unlocked the door silently and Spot was on top of them in a second. Before Race or Albert could even get a word out, he was blurting out the reason for his unexpected visit.

“Thank god you guys are here,” he huffed, almost as if he had run there. “We got a response to our email.”

________

ooo a cliff hanger we Stan

DONT YOU GUYS LOVE BLUSH I DO THEYRE GREAT

also my sister said I used the word smirked too many times but I was too lazy to fix it

what do we think is gonna happen next yall

feedback is always appreciated hmu to be on the taglist

tag list @fairly-awkward-trashcan @well-the-kids-do-too @racetrackcook @bouncyscreamingnewsboys

@ughwaitwhat @aw-jus-let-em-try @ben-cook-can-cook @the-woild-is-my-what-now @tommy-s-s0cks @voice-foundshoe-lost @galaxy-tree @stopthe-presses @ridin-in-style @pinecovewoods @i-got-no-clue-what-im-doing @bencookisagod @be-more-chill-evan-hansen @hellasoulless @stellar-alpaca @saxoph-ella @smolcanadiankid @disney-princess-sized @the-newsies-justice-for-zas-blog @insane-tomato @spot-conlon-king-of-brooklyn @have-we-got-news-for-you @thatfancyclam @myidkwhatmynameisblog @legoflambwrites @that-one-newskid @not-a-scab @albertdasillvaprotectionsquad

@entschuldigung-bitches

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@seasickdolphin

@auspicioustarantula

@newsies-of-ny

@mrs-higgins

@sunshine-e-cigarettes

@spot-me50-papes

@santafe-cafe

@papesdontsellthemselves

@king-of-new-yoirk

@deathcast-s

@the-poodles-of-pulitzer

@hopefully-not-the-ghostbusters

[curvesandcorners]

SLOVENIA

Slovenia 5/12/19 – 5/19/19 Republika Slovenija. The country is about the size of New Jersey but ever since I first visited in 2006, it left a big impression on me and I have always wanted to return. And especially with a bicycle. After a trip to Norway didn’t pan out I had committed myself to the idea of another bicycle trip and after a short think, Slovenia was it. Quite a bit of flight itinerary option analysis later, I had a free flight via American Airlines miles to Venice. I had about a month to plan out the trip so wasn’t too stressed. Then work got crazy, then I ended up in LA for the week before the trip, and then all of a sudden I was leaving the next day and I still had a route to plan and accommodations to book. That all somehow comes together no matter how unprepared I am and it would this time as well. So a long flight to Madrid, a short flight to Venice, and a 2 hour train ride later I was at the border town of Gorizia, Italy where I had the day before booked a hotel for the start and end of the trip. The hotel room turned into a bike shop and I re-assembled the Rick Jones that night and would leave the travel case with the hotel for the week. The following morning I pedaled across the border to Nova Gorica in Slovenia and started on my clockwise loop around western Slovenia.

The first day was grey and a little wet, which would prove to be a theme for the trip, but the riding started out pretty good, riding over one Italian hill before unknowingly crossing the official border at some unmarked spot and onto a bunch of small Slovenian farm roads.

Just before the town of Plave I hit a ripper of a descent and satisfied myself with my brakes ability to stop me, and then the Soca River first came into view. I had been waiting to see this river for 13 years, and it did not disappoint with amazingly clear turquoise blue water.

My route for the day would follow small roads along the Soca River valley, hitting small towns, and transitioning between perfect pavement, gravel, and jeep track. The weather shifted from threatening to very threatening but luckily never rained more than a spitting.  But what the weather lacked in rain it made up for in gusting wind, and blowing the wrong direction. I stopped for a picnic of leftover pizza from the night before, and though I was exhausted from the travels and jetlag, and despite the wind, made it to the town of Bovec to check in to the friendly hostel I booked. A good meal of trout, in the somewhat humorous and cartoonish Bovec style, and a couple glasses of local wine and I was out like a light.

The next morning my body still wanted to wake up on NY time so I got a late start but when I got intel on the route I had planned I found out my intended one-way foray up to the Mangart Saddle was not going to be possible as the road was closed because of snow. I thought about trying it out anyway, but it is a one way road 30 miles out and back, with 5000’ of climbing, and I’d have to return right back to where I started in order to continue on the overall route. So it was not hard to decide to skip that part and I now had a short 20 mile day. This worked out swimmingly as these 20 miles were stunning and provided reason to stop and take photos almost every 50 feet. The wind was back and working against me and I cursed not following the general advice of doing this route in counter-clockwise direction.  I took a wrong turn somewhere and then coming back for a ½ mile with the wind sent me sailing along at 30 mph without a pedal stroke. The Soca cut through a limestone gorge and my path followed more small roads and easy mountain bike trails, with a few river crossings over these lovely bridges.

The mountains I had been pedaling towards started getting closer and closer and pretty soon I found myself at my destination of the Koča pri izviru Soče mountain hut.

The hut is part of the Planinska Zveza Slovenije aka the Alpine Association of Slovenia and I had become a card carrying member the day before my trip, which meant I could sleep in the hut dormitory for a friendly 10 euro fee. It was early so I went on a rainy hike for the afternoon and I was glad I had packed my non-cycling shoes as the hike had me scaling some vertical faces before finding the source of the Soca river, a fissure in the mountain with a bottomless blue hole. The host of the hut fixed me up nicely with a wild mushroom stew, a delicious cottage cheese struklji, and a glass of wine. I climbed up the ladder into the loft dormitory and tucked in with my kindle for a good night of rest.

On the morning of Day 3 I breakfasted with my host again and discussed my cycling plans. She did not like my plan to continue up and over the Vrsic pass. The same snow that had closed the Mangart Saddle had apparently unofficially closed the road over Vrsic, unless your vehicle was equipped with snow chains. My bike was not. She called a hut-friend up on the mountain who confirmed her fears and told me I should not make an attempt. The detour was just not an option I would consider and I had been daydreaming about this pass for weeks so I thanked them both for their worry, but I’d be going up, and walking the bike if I needed to. As I stepped outside in the morning it was cold and grey again but I started pedaling and immediately climbing. Not 30 minutes later I was blessed with bright blue sunny skies that came out of nowhere and I knew I had made the right decision. The Vrsic Pass road is a military road built by Russian prisoners of war during World War I and has 50 numbered hairpin switchbacks, 26 going up on Trenta side and 24 (cobblestoned!) descending on the Kranska Gora side. The road was also absolutely stunning and a pleasure cycling up. The feeling was incredible. I looked behind me to see the valley from where I had just came, the sharp bends of the road getting smaller and smaller as I climbed higher and higher, and the surrounding mountains getting closer and closer and just could not believe this was reality.

Somewhere around switchback 20 or so, I was nearly at the summit and the warnings came true. The temperature plummeted and the road surface was covered with a few inches of snow over a sheet of ice. I ran into an older Austrian couple I had spoken with the day before in their SUV as they were turning around because their vehicle couldn’t make it up the road. Despite the snow we shared this moment of excitement because of the beauty of the mountain peaks and the encouraging sunshine.  They asked how it was cycling in the snow and I replied “it doesn’t matter. it’s beautiful” to which they replied in charming Austrian accents “IT IS SO BYOOTTEEEFULLLL”.  I pedaled when I could and pushed the bike when I couldn’t and put on all my layers and both pairs of gloves and made my way across the 4 or 5 km of snow covered summit. A well placed hut provided a hot tea to warm myself back up before making the descent. The north side has cobblestones on each of the 24 hairpins which was not ideal for a bicycle moving way too fast, but maybe that extra caution kept me from flying off the road and off the mountain. In any case, the descent was over before I knew it and I paused at Lake Jasna to admire the morning’s accomplishment.

From here I would enjoy 25 miles of picture perfect solitary riding along a tiny perfectly paved road/path through the Triglavski National Park, all the way to Lake Bled.

And somehow this cycling utopia of a road provided me with my only puncture of the trip.

A quick lunch in Bled and a lap around the lake and I continued on my way. After a few km I turned off the paved road and onto a mountain bike trail and started on the 2nd big climb for the day. A much smaller one at 580 m, but a much harder one thanks to the dirt and varying 8 – 15% grade.

But the top would reward me well with this alpine meadow and a view the whole way down the other side of the mountain to Bohinjsko Jezero.

I was further rewarded with freshly paved and absolutely perfect tarmac which allowed me let the bike sing down the swoopy descent. There were a few shouts of excitement as I was having so much fun and my bike felt so good. A few minutes later I was down at the lake (Bohinjsko Jezero).

A quick pedal to look around town and then I had a 5 or 6 km ride back up into the woods to another Alpine Association hut where I planned to stay. I approached a closed looking hut but was happy to see there was a woman doing some work around the back. But unluckily she informed the hut was closed until the weekend. The day was too good to let this setback annoy me so I quickly turned around and another trip back down to town and I managed to find a lovely little hotel lodge to call home for the night with an excellent “Foksner” burger and great selection of Slovenian craft beers. I toasted to an unforgettable day on the bike and was drunk in one pint and asleep in two. The next morning I woke up high on the euphoria of such a good previous day. I didn’t have any epic alpine passes planned for the day but overall it was the biggest day of the trip I had planned. I looked out the window and saw a miserably grey sky and rain pouring down. I checked the forecast and it did not look good.

I reviewed my planned route and saw I had quite a bit of climbing and a lot of it was on mtb trails. This just did not sound fun in 40 degrees and rain all day so I decided to call an audible and re-routed myself to a more direct route on mostly pavement. This cut the day down to a more manageable 95 km. The rain never stopped aside from one hour of respite, and it was indeed cold, but I layered up, put some house music on my Bluetooth speaker on my handlebars, and got into a groove with my cadence and pedaled instinctively. It was great and miserable at the same time. The route would take me along some beautiful roads and some average ones, and eventually I reached my somewhat arbitrarily selected destination of Trojane.

From Trojane I had picked out another Alpine hut for my accommodation. This was about 10 km outside of town and seemed doable from my review of the maps. My confidence was shaken though, by the previous day’s surprise closed hut. I continued out of town towards the woods and the hut. I got to the last remnants of a village before entering the woods and saw a woman outside and asked if she had any idea if it would be open or not. She didn’t speak a lick of English but grabbed her son who did and he knew the hut and was fairly confident it was only open on weekends so would be closed. I knew that would be a pretty terrible thing to trudge up to this hut only to come right back down, all in the cold pouring rain, at the end of a long day, and I also really liked the idea of a hot shower at that point (no showers at the Alpine huts) so I accepted defeat and headed back to Trojane for a hot tea and to figure out accommodation for the night. I met Melita in the Trojane café and we made friends and she was thrilled that I chose Slovenia for my cycling trip. We took a photo on her ancient digital camera. I took advantage of the wifi and successfully booked another cheap room at the wonderfully Soviet-esque meets mid-century modern Hotel Trojane. The hot shower made it worth every single euro (not that many!) and I cranked the heat and used my bike as a drying rack to try to dry off my thoroughly soaked clothing.

After an excellent night’s rest, I had an easy route planned from Trojane to Ljubljana for two day’s in the city. But I wanted more bikes so I planned a big epic murderous ride up to the Austrian border, across three mountain passes, and then back down to Ljubljana. Then I checked on road closure conditions and two of the passes were closed because of snow so I settled for something in the middle with one mountain pass. But before that I had to go see Hut Dom dr. Franca Goloba na Čemšeniški planini, which was supposed to be my destination the night before. I headed back out of town, passed the woman and son whom I had spoken to the day before, and then started to climb up into the woods. I soon realized I had very much made the right choice as the roads up to the hut went from

to

to

And they got stupid steep. But eventually, after a couple miles that felt like an a couple hundred, I came to the hut.

What an amazing place. The host was there doing some sprucing up and though she spoke no English I was at least able to confirm she was there the night before. I didn’t regret my decision but I sure was glad I still came to see the hut. The view off the mountain and across the valley below was breathtaking and the grounds of the hut were charming as possible. Picnic tables covered in snow with the sun shining and an incredible view meant I had to enjoy a morning beer.

I enjoyed my beer and went back in the direction I had came but took another trail I thought might be more bike and less hike. It was not. But it eventually spit me out onto another dirt road which was a very fast way back down off the mountain.

I passed through Trojane one last time, grabbed a few snacks, and then quickly turned off the pavement and onto a forest road which was one of my favorite sections of the whole trip. I had the whole forest to myself and enjoyed beautiful and tranquil dirt roads in great shape as I climbed up and down the undulating hills. This heavenly dirt road brought me to another secondary paved road, a small mountain pass, and through a few small villages. I made a friend, enjoyed the rolling hills and perfect pavement, and soon found myself at the base of the Trobelkski Vrh climb. At 460 meters the climb was not insignificant but with grade hovering around 15% it was a worthy challenge, especially on my loaded bike. Luckily it rewarded my effort with another set of amazing views of my surroundings.

At the summit I turned onto a paved main road and had a thrilling 7 mile long descent back down to the Kamnik River. The asphalt was freshly laid and I raced a Subaru WRX down the hairpin turns. Towards the bottom there was a section of road work and the roadworkers were working on laying more of that sweet glass smooth asphalt. I yelled as I passed :chef kissing fingers: “IT’S BYOOTIFULLL” pointing the asphalt and they loved the appreciation and cheered me on with a round of ALLEZ ALLEZ ALLEZ. It was a great moment and made my already ear to ear smile stretch even bigger. I followed my route on into Ljubljana and easily found my hotel and settled in for two days of espresso, beer, and great food. Ljubljana is a lovely little European gem. The River Ljubljanica runs right through it with beautiful buildings and cafes running along it. The food is good, the beer is good and cheap and plentiful, the good espresso is really good, and everyone seems to be happy and friendly. It was a lovely little rest off the bike for two days.

After two days of relaxing, eating, and drinking, it was time to get back on the bike. I called ahead this time to make sure the Alpine hut was open and promised the host I would be there by late afternoon. Then I loaded all my belongings back onto the Rick Jones and headed west out of the city.

After 25 km of flat, boring riding I turned onto a dirt road and climbed a few hundred feet. Then another stretch of flat riding before I started up a really great 400 meter climb to the village of Podkraj. It started to rain along the way which put a bit of a damper on the long and fast descent, especially the -17% portion. I managed that ok but wished for disc brakes and cursed my luddite-ness. I entered into Slovenian wine country and cycled up and down and alongside numerous vineyards.

And then shortly after the village of Dolenje I was gingerly descending around a series of hairpin turns and all of a sudden I was on the pavement with a painful thud. I’m not sure what happened but my tire slipped out from under me as I was making my way around the curve, even though I was doing so really slowly. I crawled off the road and lay out in the grass moaning and groaning. I checked my bike and had to push the brake lever back into position and do my best to re-align the bent derailleur hanger. As I was laying there a car or two passed by, veeerryyyy very slowly and both checked to see that I was ok. A couple came cycling by on mountain bikes in the opposite direction as me and stopped to check on me and we chatted for a while. They were locals and told me everyone knows that road and especially that turn are dangerous and extremely slick.

Once I collected myself I had no choice but to continue on. From there I had 25 km to get to my hut. Luckily my bike worked well enough, even without perfect shifting. The rain started to come down hard with about 20 km to go so I gritted my teeth and pushed on, up into the woods again. The last 8 km or so were really gorgeous but there was no time for photos with the rain so I pressed ahead, anxious to make it to the hut and looking forward to a hot meal and a drink. Some time around 4 pm I got to the Hut Stjenkova koča na Trstelju and looked forward to drying off and going to sleep very early.

As I entered dripping wet I saw two men and a beautiful but terrifying German Shepherd. Then a third man bolted up from behind a table. He was the host, Bostjan, and I had just woken him up from his afternoon nap. “YOU! NEW YORK!?” he yelled out and I confirmed. He commanded I sit down and placed a beer in front of me straight away. From there it would turn into absolutely the most fun night of the trip. Bostjan, and his friends Dragan the casino craps dealer and Miha the former motocross champion of Yugoslavia and the beautiful blue-blooded lineage purebred German Shepherd called Siri welcomed me into their Saturday night party. The beer flowed non-stop, I fortified myself mid-way with a hearty stew, and then again with a late night pancetta party, Bostjan brought out home-made grappa from his fellow communist (“NO, SOCIALIST”) comrades, Dragan brought out his homegrown Slovenian mountain kishkish, we toasted to Tito’s portrait multiple times, and some time around 1 am we had drunken 20 L of Laško beer and the keg was kicked. I couldn’t have asked for a better last night in Slovenia. I will never forget those guys and the fun time we shared.

I woke up the next morning in a haze and hurting just as much from the crash the day before as from the drinking.  Bostjan stumbled to the kitchen and prepared me a breakfast of scrambled eggs with beer, along with more pancetta and then I had a short last day to finish out the trip and return to Gorizia.

I was able to enjoy the mountain roads without so much rain this time and after a quick 50 km I was back in Italy and the whole town was closed since it was Sunday. I checked back into the hotel I had started the trip at, went through the tedious process of disassembling and packing my bike back into the s&s case, wandered aimlessly on foot until I eventually found something open ending up back at the same pizza place I had visited 7 days previous (very good pizza!), and got a night of rest before waking up early for the long travel journey of a train to Venezia, bus to the airport, 13 hour flight to Philadelphia, 6 hour layover which worked out perfectly for a happy hour reunion with friends, and then a one hour flight back to LaGuardia where I and thousands of other people would deal with the hell that is LaGuardia construction and transportation. At 2 am I walked back in the door of my Brooklyn apartment, dropped all my things at the front door, and collapsed into bed for a few quick hours of sleep before waking up for work and re-entrance into the real world.

Before I sign off, what sort of bike nerd would I be if I didn’t nerd out on my bike and gear selected for the trip. I wanted this to be a non-camping inn-to-inn or hut-to-hut in this case tour to keep the bike relatively lightweight and make the riding more fun. My Rick Jones has served me well for 7 years now and did not fail on this trip.

-Even with the front rando bag, frame bag, and saddle bag adding on about 15 or so lbs, the bike was spry and handles like a dream.

-Braking is, well…its as good as you can expect from cantilevers I suppose. Pretty decent when dry and alarmingly inadequate when wet, which happened to be most of the trip.

-I refreshed the drivetrain a couple months ago with new 11 speed Ultegra which proved as reliable as expected. I changed out the compact gearing for 46/30 sub-compact chainrings mounted onto my White Industries VBC cranks and really appreciated that choice at many times throughout the trip, both going up the alpine passes in the 30 tooth and cruising along on the flats and downhills in the 46. 

-The way-too-complicated electrical system, yes electrical system, consists of the SonDelux dynamo hub powering an IQ-X front headlight, as well as a taillight, and a Sinewave Revolution usb charger. The setup got complicated when I had to make it demountable for packing into the S&S case with quick-disconnects all over the place. One ripped out as I was taking the bike apart, requiring a last minute solder and leaving me not all that confident in the system holding up to the travel and the trip. But it turned out to not be an issue and worked the entire time and survived the disassembly and trip home with no problems or re-soldering required. 

-Tire selection was the do-it-all goldilocks of a tire Compass aka Rene Herse Bon Jon Pass 700c x 35 mm. Everything is tubeless compatible but I ran tubes due to the packing wheels tightly into a suitcase a little smaller than the wheels are round. Aside from that sudden crash which probably can’t be blamed on the tire, they were great and gave me the road and gravel performance I wanted, while still being able to handle some rough stuff when the route turned more towards mtb trail. 

-Navigation was handled with my Hammerhead Karoo which is enormous but works very well and a great tool for touring and especially good when re-routing on the fly becomes necessary. Between my trip to Oaxaca in December and this trip to Slovenia, I have confidence in the Hammerhead to get me wherever I want to go. 

-Bags consisted of a Swift Ozette rando bag out front, a Porcelain Rocket frame bag, and an Oveja Negra saddle bag. It looks like a generous amount of storage but it fills up pretty quickly and I needed all the space they provided for this trip. -Inside the bags I packed: (1) pair bibs + jersey + socks (rotated daily between the set I was wearing), an insulated Rapha gilet, a Search & State rain jacket, arm warmers, knee warmers, toe covers, a pair of full finger riding gloves, a pair of glove liners, and a merino wool neck gaiter. I was very glad to have every last piece of riding gear that I did as the temps and constant rain necessitated wearing everything on several occasions. I treated myself to the luxury of a pair of pants, a pair of shorts, a t-shirt, and a light wool sweater. Being able to change into dry normal clothes and the end of each long, wet day was a treat. And the most luxurious item packed was a pair of sneakers, which although they took up more than half the saddle bag they were also a god-send at the end of the day when I just wanted to take off the cycling shoes and for the couple of short hikes and the two days spent walking Ljubljana. Add in my Fuji XT1, a Kindle, a Bluetooth speaker, a headlamp, two water bottles, phone/wallet/passport, framepump, two tubes, tools, and a daily supply of snacks and that was the bike packed. I was happy with everything packed, and there was not a single item I regretted lugging around by bicycle for a few hundred km.

If anyone has actually read this far. Thank you for reading and now go visit Slovenia. Tell them I sent you and say hello. I am already scheming on a return trip next year with cycling and fly fishing combined.

Nasvidenje!

[wegotpopedsir]

Top of the Ninth- Chapter 2

chapter one

AN: FYI changed it so it takes place in January not October at the start of training for baseball HS season, also obviously this doesn't follow canon because Liv is still Chief of Staff at the WH. Let me know what you think!

And now Henry with the weather. Hey there folks, be careful on the roads tomorrow as we are coming into a lot of snow and ice. The temperatures are dropping tonight-

"Oh, I just adore your bracelet young lady! Where is it from? You made it? No way!" Mellie was charming the small crowd that had gathered in the diner she was sitting at, with the local news playing in the background.

"Huh, she's gotten better with them."

Olivia half-laughed, "Yeah, it's an election year. There's no press here but just this one stop will cause people to talk and we get the entire town in the bag come November."

Jake looked at her through the corner of his eye and lightly shook his head. "So… how have you been?"

"Busy with Mellie," she replies abruptly. She hears crowd laugh in the background as she turned towards him, trying to figure out his angle. She was waiting for an explanation on everything, his divorce, resignation, how he could walk out like he did, but didn't want to be the one to bring it up.

"Do you want to go somewhere quieter? Well, relatively quieter, there's only one bar in Blackstone."

Sam's Bar had a creaky front door and an old school jukebox playing old school music in the background. The bar had few customers on a weeknight, mingling among themselves in their own space. Jake got up to get drinks for the both of them and Olivia was left alone with her thoughts. She felt anxious, an emotion she didn't usually feel with Jake. There was a gap between them and Olivia didn't know what would and wouldn't cross the line. They had been making polite small talk about the weather on the walk over- the weather! This was a man who she thought she knew better than anyone else and believed that was a two- way street. He seen her, literally and metaphorically, in ways that she didn't show to most people and now it was like they were strangers.

As her eyes wandered, she heard a group of middle aged men laugh out loud. This was a bad idea; someone could snap a picture and with social media at its pinnacle, within minutes everyone would see the two of them together. Anything could blowback on the President and with her history with Jake, Jake's show stopping wedding (and divorce), then his disappearance, Olivia didn't know how this would play out it the media.

Jake walked back over to her and seemed to pick up on her nerves, trying to calm her with a hesitant smile, "Don't worry, I was worried about what the townspeople would do at first, but no one really cares, and besides Sam would probably kick out anyone who tries to take pictures." Olivia relaxed for a moment and took a swig of her drink to distract herself.

"Right, so-""How's-"Olivia and Jake started at the same time. For the love of God, this was getting cliché like the movies.

"Ok, I'll start," Jake said with a growing smile, "how's Mellie? QPA?"

And before long they were falling into the groove they were used to. Laughing, catching up on gossip and the dirty secrets of D.C., the drinks kept coming and the walls went down. "Two peas in a pod, sharing inside jokes," his ex-wife once said.

"Oh yeah the intern was so embarrassed. His face turned all red and Mellie was trying to make it less awkward and pretend like nothing happened," Olivia said, wincing as the strong alcohol burned as it went down her throat. Jake was laughing, rather intoxicated too, when Sam shouted out last call. Olivia realized how long she had been sitting with Jake, well into the night. She had completely ignored her phone, thus ignoring many calls and texts, but the one that caught her eye at the top- We're on our way back to WH, figured you're staying the night here. Have fun with Jake. –Mellie. That sobered her up very quickly and she started rushing to make calls. How could they just leave? Where is she supposed to stay? There was so much she had to do back in D.C. she couldn't just stay here. She couldn't even drive up there now.

Jake saw the cool, calm, collected Olivia leave and started to sense an upcoming freak out and offered to drive before Olivia reminded him that he had been drinking too and their blood alcohol concentration was well beyond the limit.

Wanting to help, wanting to fix things for her, he didn't even realize until the words were out of his mouth and the offer was up in the air- "You can stay with me."

There was a pause that seemed to last for an hour before Jake stumbled on, half- drunk, half- surprised at himself, "I mean, it's pretty late and you can stay in the guest bedroom and leave in the morning." At this point it was too late and she was too tired to consider any other options.

When they got to Jake's house, Olivia took in her surroundings; the house was spacious and modestly decorated. Everything was new, but she could see the bits and pieces of Jake in them.

Jake offered her a change of clothes and showed her where the guest bedroom was. Olivia stood in front of the mirror and reflected on the last 24 hours. She was happy that Jake was happy but it still felt like something was missing. They have gone through so much together and so many phases of relationship, dating, friends, dating (again), Quinn calling them an old married couple, Command/Chief of Staff/ National Security Director, then most recently strangers, but a couple of drinks can't rebuild a friendship or relationship. Tomorrow, she would go back to the dark pit of D.C. and Jake would return to his school and perhaps they would occasionally text to make plans to meet again.

She shook her head and quickly exited the bedroom before being hit with 6 feet and 1 inch of a man whose body she was very familiar with.

Olivia looked up and suddenly she was transported back 4 years; the two of them were getting ready for bed, 2 nights before Jake was supposed to get married, if only she had known then the triumphs and disappointments that were coming. It seemed like everything was the same as Jake still looked at Olivia with the love like he did before but everything was different-like a gust of cold air blasted in, killing the mood-

"Uh, sorry I was just going to get some water."

"Oh… glasses are in the first cabinet on the right when you walk in the kitchen."

Olivia woke to her phone ringing, not unlike other days, but other days she's comfortable in her apartment in D.C., only 10 minutes away from 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, ready to fix another crisis. This time it took her a minute to get oriented to where she was before she picked up the phone.

"Olivia!" Olivia groaned, she really didn't need Mellie in her ear at 5 in the morning, especially as she was trying to fight the hangover from last night.

"Mellie, yes I'm about to get on the road, I can get to the White House by 8:30, before Ethan even brings the donuts," in a biting tone, partially because of the hangover pounding in her head and partially annoyed at the assistant not even in her vicinity. Some of Cyrus's Chief of Staff tendencies had rubbed off on her.

"Oh no, no, no, no"

"What?!" God, what has gotten into Mellie?

"The snow storm remember? It's about to hit D.C. and Virginia and you shouldn't be out on the road. Don't worry we'll be fine here, you stay in Blackstone and make your way up tomorrow or Thursday."

"Mel- Madam Pres-"

"No buts! I'd rather you didn't die on the road so just relax; you haven't taken a vacation in so long, maybe Blackstone is nice."

"No, there's nothing in Blackstone, I should be coming back to work."

"I'm sure there's something or someone there to entertain you. If it makes you feel better, I'll email you some things that you can take a look at if you have time." Olivia sighed in exasperation. How was this happening to her? Right when she needs to be in D.C. to work on this bill, she's stuck in the middle of a snowstorm.

She had the worst timing.

Olivia was pleasantly surprised at how many hidden gems Blackstone had to offer. She was lounging on the couch, with a takeout box in her hand waiting for Jake to grab the hot sauce before starting the movie, reflecting on her mini-vacation.

Earlier that morning she asked Jake if he was ok with her staying until the roads were clear and as always, a brief look of surprised crossed his face, but was quickly covered up and he was ready to accommodate. Jake still had to go to work as it was only lightly snowing but told her to check out the town square if she wanted to get out of the house. After breakfast, she went back to bed for the first time in months to get some more sleep.

Everything seemed to be within walking distance, so in the afternoon after she had checked her email (she couldn't resist), Olivia took his advice and went out, stopping at a cafe to pick up something small to take to Jake while he was at practice afterschool.

She walked into the gym, intrigued as she saw a group of teenage boys grouped around the former spy; she was reminded of another time Jake had been a leader, stepping up to the plate as Command and how as much as she had wanted Quinn home, she knew the young brunette was safe with Jake in charge. Soon one distracted high school kid noticed her and, like wildfire, the whispers spread before one of them shouted out "Coach, you have a visitor!" Jake turned around and his eyes lit up.

"Hey, I don't mean to interrupt. I just stopped by a cafe and bought some doughnuts and wanted to give them to you."

"Oh thanks," he saw the amused smirks out of the corner of his eye and turned to the teens, "Guys, why don't you start warming up?" Unfortunately they were reluctant to start, all of them thinking about the headlines from a few years ago with the woman standing in front of them and the former President, confirming their sordid affair. And now that woman was here and seemed to be awfully friendly with someone who had caused schoolwide gossip the moment he stepped foot on the school, but now was a normal sight. It wasn't until Jake blew his whistle and ordered, "I meant now!" that they got up, with a new set of gossip ready to be spilled during AP Bio.

"Nosy kids…" he muttered.

Olivia smirked, "Ok old man, how's your team doing?"

"We've only had a couple practices and this weather isn't helping, but they're alright."

"Yeah, the principal was telling us yesterday. With good coaching, I'm sure they'll be great," a smile crept up on her face as Olivia turned to him with an innocent expression, "Know any good coaches?"

Jake rolled his eyes as he elbowed her, "Haha, you're hilarious. You can stay, if you'd like."

"Oh, I can't, I have to go back hom- to your house- to finish reading over some things Mellie forwarded me."

"Yeah, of course, America never sleeps," there was a split second of unease that came with the reminder of his past, before "but hey I can pick up some Chinese food for dinner if you'd like."

So she went back to a place she'd only been for 2 days but surprisingly felt very homely-in a way that was different from the houses she had before, namely the Vermont one that had been built up and glorified before being met with harsh bouts of reality- and tried to get some work done but her mind was drifting off every so often. She recognized the familiarity, and felt the warmth even though it was the coldest time of the year, as they slowly reconnected like on island when it was just the two of them, but this time it seemed as though there was another layer that needed to be peeled back.

"One Extra Hot Hot sauce," Jake said, shaking Olivia out of her reverie "Did you choose a movie?"

"Yup, Miss Congeniality"

"Oh my god, nothing has changed, Liv," the nickname dancing off his lips, a sharp contrast from the "Boss" or "Ma'am" that he'd been addressing her as the last time he saw her, "we've watched this a million times." Jake said shaking his head, but reaching for the remote to press play.

2 hours of watching Sandra Bullock kick-ass, well Jake was watching her kick-ass while still critiquing her technique, Olivia was watching Jake as she thought about how things weren't awkward anymore but still felt like they were just starting to break down the walls that had been building up over the last few years.

She had shifted towards him as the movie went on and had managed to get up close against him, cuddling into Jake's body as the snow fell outside, and if anyone had asked then, she would've said it was because it was too cold. But the heater was on and it was just the two of them, with no one, Command, her father, or Fitz there to stop her as she leaned closer to him and stared at his lips before looking up into those deep green eyes, daring him to make the first move.

His lips brushed against hers and it was like it was in slow motion; the room got warm and it wasn't the heater protecting from the outside cold. And maybe it was them being a little wine drunk, or maybe it was the reminder that it didn't matter where in the world they were or what position they held but for Olivia and Jake, home was a person. Home was a person that had been gone for months now and now maybe it was the stars that aligned so that Olivia and Jake had the opportunity to go back to being, well, Olivia and Jake, and that night they were reminded that it wasn't just conversation and trust that they missed from one another. Their lips met again, more eager to fill what had been missing for so long, and that night they remembered.

Pretty soon, the storm calmed, the snow started to melt, and the two had to return to reality. Jake didn't wake up alone for the first time in a while, sometime that night they had made it to the bedroom, but as he looked over to the woman next to him, he didn't know what to think. He slowly shifted away, careful not to wake her as he grabbed his discarded clothes and made his way to his kitchen. Did this one night change anything between them? Nights like this hadn't before, but it wasn't a conversation he was ready to have and wasn't sure if she was ready either.

Olivia fell asleep cuddling, pressed against Jake's chest, but when she woke to an empty bed she wondered for a moment if it was all a dream. If she was being honest, she had woken up confused like this, after a passionate night only to wake up to find it all was just a dream, a few times after Jake left. But this time it was real; this time the space next to her was still warm. And yet there she was- alone. She stared up at the ceiling with a million thoughts flying through her mind before finally finding the courage to get up. She could hear the rustling in the kitchen and when she walked through the doorway, caught Jake's eye when he looked up from the stove and flashed her a polite smile. Ok we're going to talk about this right? Maybe he just doesn't know how to bring it up.

That morning was filled with casual, tranquil amity like they had been getting dressed and ready for the day together for years. Jake was driving her up to the nation's capital, making it a road trip, much more pleasant than the last one they went on before she stood up and admitted to being the President's mistress. No, this one was filled with pre-popped popcorn, a road trip playlist filled with surprisingly a lot more Niall Horan than Jake expected, and a lot of quiet laughter. Olivia knew something was on Jake's mind because she did know him as she had said before. They were both smiling but they were also the two best people at wearing masks.

Over the last few days a lot of walls had come down, and it was as if their friendship was stronger than ever, but during the comfortable silences Jake reminded himself that this isn't her life, and he has to protect himself.

Finally, they entered familiar territory; a place that they had each taken a turn controlling from the depths of Wonderland or the White House, but for Jake was now simply an old memory, a touristy city that held secrets around every corner. After a making a call to Quinn, the two of them pulled in to the QPA building so that Jake could visit all of them for the first time since leaving.

They spent the rest of the morning catching up with the Quinn, Huck, Charlie and Abby, with the redhead and brunette making knowing eye contact every time Olivia and Jake shared a smile from across the table.

"Oh, we better head out. I need to get to the White House and check on Mellie. I'm just going to run to the restroom real quick."

Olivia was washing her hands when Abby barged in. "Ok, what was all that about?"

"What?"

"That! You leave for D.C. and you're not talking to Jake at all and now you're back and you're- well, you're happy! And it's a good look on you!"

"I don't know what to tell you Abby, it was just a mini vacation. It was surprisingly nice being down there. "

"I'm not talking about Blackstone," Abby said recognizing the Olivia Pope style of spin and ignoring what's right in front of her.

"Oh, Jake. We talked a lot and maybe slept together last night," Olivia said, rushing through the last part of her sentence, walking back into the QPA foyer.

"Wow, are you going to get back together?"

"I mean, I don't know what this means for us." She was still waiting to get a moment for them to talk about what happened the night before and how they had gotten there. It was ironic, usually she never wanted to talk about their long and complicated history but this time she wanted to know, she was open to seeing where this could go.

Meanwhile-

Quinn turned to Jake, her eyes lighting up and a smirk creeping on her lips, "Did something happen? And don't even try to lie to me." He had trained her too well and all this time running QPA and dealings with stubborn clients made her internal lie detector pretty good.

Jake sighed, knowing he wasn't getting out of this, "We slept together."

"So now …"

Jake turned away from the interrogation, "So, nothing. "

Quinn scoffed, "Really, don't you still love her? You can make your move now. What's stopping you?"

"Of course I still love her," he shook his head and paused, "but she's here and probably thinks it was nothing, just a normal Tuesday, or a last hurrah maybe."

"What if she doesn't think so?"

Jake looked over at her with his eyes just begging for her not to push. It wasn't a road he wanted to go down again; falling in love with the formidable Olivia Pope only to be left out in the cold. "I doubt that; we've slept together before without any emotion being involved, nothing is gonna change between me and Olivia."

"Do you want to get back together?" Abby said, trying to catch up with Olivia.

"I- Maybe? You know me, I'm not saying we should jump into anything, but everything felt so real, you know? Like we actually have a shot this time. We don't have to worry about my father or-" Olivia quieted when she heard her name.

"I'm not getting back together with Olivia."

"Jake," Quinn said with a knowing tone.

"Really, nothing is going to change."

She really does have the worst timing.

AN: so cliffhanger sorta! this chapter was kinda fluffy so that in the next chapter they really dig in! Let me know what you think!

[llampacaeatingguppy]

Aspects of winter life that might not occur to you

Maybe you’re writing a book about someone in The North but you live in The South, maybe you’re moving somewhere cold, and maybe you just want to know. I don’t really care, I’m just a long-time resident of Wisconsin who wants to write a bunch of stuff, so I am. (Please note some of this might be Wisconsin-exclusive)

First of all, let’s talk about that little transition from summer to winter. There are literally maybe two weeks of a stereotypical “not too hot, not too cold” temperature, sometimes not even that. Fall is mostly unpredictable weather hell and it’s hard to be sure when they will truly decide to stop. For example: our last warm day was December 4, and it was almost 60 degrees (15.5 C). On my sisters birthday, December 6, it was 20 degrees  (-6.5 C) and snowing, which was far more normal for that time of year.

Women’s clothes are the dumbest things ever, especially jeans. Your top half gets additional insulation through your coat. Your legs do not, and women’s jeans are thin. Leggings and/or long socks under your pants pretty much every day are a must if you don’t want you legs to turn into icesicles. And if you must either wear leggings or jeans by themselves, I feel warmer in leggings. Sweatpants are the best, but I usually use those as pajamas.

On the topic of women’s clothes and coats, my classmate was cold in class once and I offered her my fall coat (which I wear if it’s about 40+ degrees (4+ C)). It’s a hoodie that I found in the men’s section. You know what she told me? It was warmer than her fall coat. Let me tell you something: that thing wasn’t even marketed as a coat. Don’t get me wrong, I knew it was warm, that’s why I wore it, but I didn’t realize it was that warm. Women’s clothes vs men’s clothes. Yay. And people wonder why men on campus are still walking around in sweaters when women are wearing their winter coats in the fall.

One more thing about clothes to get all the salt out of my system and then I’m done with clothes, I promise. If you want some women’s clothes actually suitable for the weather, your best bet is secondhand stores or small local shops, because those clothes are from people who also actually have to endure this climate. Any sort of chain of stores just don’t have clothes designed for cold weather. Heck, some of the stuff that I’ve seen in Target for “winter” I wouldn’t wear until May or June.

There is a confusing temperature where you’re not sure whether to wear your fall coat or your winter coat. It varies per person, but since my winter coat is literally a cleared for -30 degrees (-34 C) heavy duty stuffed trench coat (that I had to scramble for while it was on sale, cheap coats are not made for Wisconsin-level cold. People do it, but I have no idea how) and my fall coat is a men’s hoodie, the choice between roast and freeze is particularly present because the range of temperature those were made for is so different.

If you go outside and the snot in your nose freezes before you’ve taken two steps, you can safely say that it’s really cold without anyone arguing with you.

Also, “You know it’s cold when your snot is frozen in two seconds” and other variants is kinda a local meme. Probably has been for decades. I’ve lived here 18 years and I don’t remember ever not hearing it.

A lot of people seem to assume that sickness season is in the winter. It’s not. It’s the Times of Horrible Weather (aka spring and fall). People get sick in winter, sure, but it’s spring and fall where over half of the people you know all get sick at once, although it’s milder cold-like things. The exception to this is the explosion of influenza that happens around January, but one month is a small chunk of winter, believe me.

Spring is really similar to fall, just an fyi. I keep saying fall because we’re in the thick of winter now, it’s -17 (-27 C) outside, and spring looks like an impossibility, but they’re really similar in terms of awful temperature fluctuations. Most people are more tolerant of its obnoxiousness because when it ends the weather won’t be trying to kill you. I personally like it less because all that snow melting makes everything wet and muddy and all the litter that the snow hid is now visible and I never know if it’s hot or cold outside and it feels like nothing really grows until the week before summer so it’s just naked and ugly and inconvenient. I hate spring. Can you tell?

I’m just now realizing that it probably sounds like I don’t like winter, but I actually do. Like yeah it’s annoying, but I like it? It’s kinda like that character you love who’s a complete asshole and you’re not even sure why you love them but you do.

The. Car. It gets cold. And it doesn’t warm up right away, either, because of how cold the engine gets. And you might need to jump start it, too, depending on how good your battery is. Also there’s ice and snow and fun stuff that you have to scrape off after it snows. And it’s cold outside while you’re doing it. And you’re probably also late because the world hates you. And the roads are probably bad.

10+ inches (25.4+ cm) of snow = elementary and high schools have to close. -40 degrees (which is the same in Celsius, crazy right?) or lower windchill = elementary and high schools have to close. Both happen a few times a year. College classes don’t have that rule. You walk to class in -50 degree (-45.5 C) windchill anyways and try to ignore the fact that you haven’t been able to feel your face pretty much the whole time.

If you’re on your period, things can get really cold and uncomfortable down there. Changing your pad more frequently than usual helps some. Tampons might also do the trick, but I can’t tell you for sure because I don’t like to use them.

If you’re like me and get chilled easily, winter is kinda nice because nobody will judge you for wearing an ungodly number of layers. Are you still cold when you go outside? Probably, at least some of the time. But you’re comfortable while indoors, which is a nice change of pace.

Folks farther north try to assert their dominance over you, and you do the same to those who live farther south than you. This is achieved by bragging about the bad weather.

Snowing on Halloween is a very real thing. When you’re a young trick-or-treater, it’s beyond frustrating because unless you’re literally going as a scientist living in Antarctica or your parents don’t care if you get sick by running around without a coat, good luck having people see your costume because it’s coat time.

Bugs are small. The largest spider I regularly see is a little bigger than a quarter, and most of that’s legs.

My dad loves to tell the story about how when he lived in Virginia, they got two feet of snow and they still expected him to come to work because he was from the north, despite the fact that the state was essentially in a state of crisis. But we don’t drive in two feet of snow, either, because a crap ton of snow plows go out every time it snows. It’s not perfect, and the roads are bad for a while, but there isn’t literally the total amount of snow accumulation just sitting on the road for us to drive through. So please don’t ask your employee from the north to come in to work when it snowed two feet overnight and there are not nearly enough snowplows, because then there literally is two feet of snow on the road and that’s dangerous for anyone, north or not. (He didn’t go in, by the way.)

When the roads aren’t great, seeing cars in the ditch is normal. People don’t even bat an eye and they’re often used as a measurement for how bad roads are. (ex: “I saw three cars in the ditch on the way here” = roads are bad) This is just normal, car swerved a little bit and ran off the road stuff, though. If it’s more serious (like if the car flipped upside down or hit another car or something), then it gets regarded as a car accident, not as a car in the ditch.

If you’re asthmatic, the cold can induce asthma attacks. It doesn’t always, but when I was diagnosed with asthma a few years ago, the doctor told me to be careful because it’s a very real problem for some folks. The worst it does to me personally is makes me cough a few times if it’s less then 0 degrees and I breathe too deeply through my mouth, and if I cover my face with a scarf it gets rid of the problem altogether.

I have never in my life successfully made an igloo. I don’t think most people have. They always caved in at the top the few times I tried. What I did do all the time as a youngling was dig tunnels under the snow and army-crawl through them.

Later in the winter, when the temperature starts to ease up but it’s still not spring, just the top layer of snow will melt a smidge and then freeze back over, making a hard shell. It’s oftentimes thick enough for kids to walk on without breaking it and I thought it was one of the coolest things ever. Even now, if I find a place that can support my weight as an adult, it gives me this odd sense of giddiness and usually makes my day.

Electronics were not made to handle cold and leaving them out in it can be a nightmare on your battery.

There are quite a few people who eat summer-coded desserts in the winter, especially ice cream. Winter gives enough people negativity without the added sadness of certain sweets being off-limits.

[kings-of-freeside]

A L L O R N O T H I N G

@atomsmute @sonofodin56

for this! (thanks, guys! this kept me busy today while i was in render hell for six hours. they’re under the readmore!)

1) a song you can listen to on repeat

Dark Days by PUP! I actually frequently do listen to it on repeat during my commute.

2) a song from one of your favorite albums

Style - Taylor Swift (1989 is such a good album)

3) a song you loved when you were a teenager or kid

I Write Sins Not Tragedies came into my life when I was about nine and it’s never left.

Shit’s Gonna Be OK by I Fight Dragons was one I listened to a lot in high school, I don’t listen to the band as much anymore but I still love them.

4) a song that makes you feel strong

The Bullpen by Dessa. It’s all about being a woman in a male dominated field and I relate.

Looking Up -SafetySuit (”I say they’re looking up, Take on whatever ‘cause I’m feeling tough, You say I’m going down but I’m feeling so fine”)

5) a song that makes you sad

Miscarriage by Said the Whale. Absolutely gutted me when I heard it for the first time, doubly so when Tyler talked about it at the concert in May.

Fiddler’s Green by The Tragically Hip. It was actually played at my cousin’s funeral.

Spanish Sahara by Foals.

6) a song that cheers you up

Looking Up - SafetySuit !!!! please listen to it it is the best happy song I know it’s on this list twice just let me have this one

Demons / Get Better / Reasons Not To Be An Idiot, all by Frank Turner

Graveclothes by Birdtalker

A Little Rain (Song for Pete) - Arkells

7) a song that reminds you of your friend(s)

I Will Follow You Into The Dark has been one of mine and Emma’s songs for a lot of years.

Watermark by The Weakerthans reminds me so much of my core #squad, mainly because of the  “we’re talented and bright, we’re lonely and uptight, we’ve found some lovely ways to disappoint” lyrics

Also the entirety of Fall Out Boy’s American Beauty/American Psycho album is always gonna remind me of going to Calgary Expo with Mickie and Emma (and Shayda) but especially Favourite Record.

8) a song that reminds you of an ex partner or crush

Paris by Magic Man (“now darling, all that shit’s behind us, you never have to wonder, you never have to ask”)

The Way I Tend To Be by Frank Turner (“and then I catch myself catching your scent on someone else, in a crowded space, and it takes me somewhere I cannot quite place” -one of my former crushes/partners had a v distinct smell, not in a gross way or anything, but just a smell that was theirs and sometimes I still catch a whiff of it)

9)   a song that reminds you of yourself

Four Simple Words - Frank Turner (”this is my culture man, this is my home” in reference to concerts!! it’s just a v important song to me and when i saw it live it was so fucking incredible.)

Cardboard Castles - Watsky (”I’m still dreaming after all these years”)

Bonus “I wish this described me”/ ideal aesthetic song: Swooner - The Zolas

10) a song that brings back bad memories

Also kind of Get Better- it’s a bittersweet memory, I saw Frank Turner live with someone who isn’t my life anymore (for a very good reason) but at the time he was one of my best friends and we made eye contact and smiled at each other as Frank sang “the best people I know are looking out for me” and in the moment it was the best but now it makes me sad.

11) a song that brings back good memories

Wish I Knew You by the Revivalists was on in the car when I found a murder hamlet on a late night drive to go stargazing with two very dear friends of mine who I haven’t known for very long so the “wish I knew you when I was young” lyric is pretty perfect and whenever I hear it I think about that night and it makes me happy even though I don’t even like the song that much.

12) a song that grew on you

Take It All Back by Judah & The Lion. Did not like it at all when I first heard it. But then I got really into it. I was going to go to their show last spring but my ID didn’t come in time so I couldn’t, my sister sold her ticket but not mine so I just lost that money. Still kinda sad about that one.

13) a song from a musical

Dead Girl Walking from Heathers. I sing it in the shower aaaaaaall the time.

14) a song with a great music video

Escape Artist- The Zolas (pls just watch it)

Girls Like Girls - Hayley Kiyoko (im gay)

Genghis Khan - Miike Snow

15) a song that’s better as a cover

Hurt - Johnny Cash (sorry not sorry, nine inch nails)

16) a song that’s better acoustic

And Then Some by Arkells. The acoustic version is swoonworthy. (and not that much different from the original but still!!)

17) a song with great lyrics

Tiny Glowing Screens, pt 2- Watsky. Technically a poem but (shrug emoji). Super powerful, and one of my favourite moments of my trip to France a few years back wasn’t in France, it was on the plane there, when everyone else was asleep and this song came up on shuffle and I listened to it while I looked out the window.

18) a song for summer

Anna Sun- Walk The Moon & The Suburbs - Arcade Fire.

Both were on constant rotation during the summers I was 14-16, and they remind me really strongly of a former best friend that I still talk to but am not as close with anymore, and all of the shenanigans we got up to.

19) a song for heartache

Mittens - Frank Turner

20) a song for car rides

One Foot - Walk The Moon. If I go on any friend roadtrips this summer it is for sure gonna be on the playlist

If You Wanna - The Vaccines is also just a really good roadtrip montage type song I think.

Also Ways To Go by Grouplove.

21) a song for the rain

Beautiful Morning - Said the Whale. It literally starts with “it’s raining, it’s pouring”, lol)

The Great Collapse - The Zolas (v good rainy day vibe)

22) a song for dancing

I Got You by Hollerado

Get Dark by the Zolas

Canyon Moon by Andrew McMahon In The Wilderness (the chorus is TOO GOOD)

Confidence by Said the Whale

Kiss The Misfits by Felix Hagan & The Family

23) a song for making out

I Wanna Be Yours/ Stop The World I Wanna Get Off With You/ Knee Socks - Arctic Monkeys (I’ve never made out with anyone but like. C'mon.)

24) a song for a lover

The Light is You - Said the Whale. I’ve wanted it to be the first dance song at my wedding for as long as I can remember.

Norway - The Paper Tigers. It’s just really effing cute.

25) a song from before you were born

After Hours - The Velvet Underground

26) a song from a band that’s no longer together

Watch The Sky - Something Corporate

27) a song you’ve seen live

Hey Jude - The Beatles (when I saw Paul McCartney!)

Raised by The Radio - Mitch Rossell (I’d never heard of him before I saw him open for Garth Brooks but I loved him. i was born and raised on music, it’s always been such a huge part of my life, and this song describes that feeling) (i can’t find a recording of this song on youtube so the link is spotify im sorry)

Lilac And Willow - Said the Whale. I remember listening to the album for the first time and thinking “I’m so excited to see this one live” and it lived up to expectations in every way, Ben’s voice is so good and distinctive and comforting.

28) a song you want to see live

I’d literally kill to see Hey I Want You by Felix Hagan & The Family live. It would be so much fun.

Black and Blue by Miike Snow (I missed them when they were in town D:)

29) a song by a band you don’t usually like

Closer - The Chainsmokers (& Halsey). Most Chainsmokers stuff is just… meh.

30) a song you recommend

Blossom - Milky Chance. It’s been my go to for a couple weeks now

[killthebxy-archive]

guys i spent my whole day out with friends and i just got home and i made the utter mistake of watching the leaked episode 6 and 

holy fuck

do i hate everything right now

i was not prepared for this, i was not prepared for any of this at all. i am ended, my watch is ended, someone come and burn my body please. i just want to sink into a hole and stay there not made of ice please

i have so much i want to write about this episode but i am honestly physically mentally and emotionally wrecked, so i will go hug my dog now and cry in bed and rest and tomorrow tackle all this with a fresh head. @unseenmockingjay & @littlefiinger i heard you wanted to hear what i have to say, well get prepared. because i wasn’t prepared for this episode

for the time being, have my episode 6 feels recorded live as they emerged:

gods bless the Frostfangs this is making me so nostalgic and it’s barely been 30 seconds into the episode yet

...Tormund i will personally slap you THIS IS NOT ABOUT JON’S PRIDE DON’T DARE USE THIS LINE AGAINST HIM AGAIN

look at the Fellowship of the Ragged Bastards bonding through and through awe

................JON WHAT ARE YOU ......ARE YOU SERIOUSLY GIVING LONGCLAW AWAY BECAUSE YOU BELIEVE IT BELONGS TO JORAH I’M ----------DON’T DO THIS. THE WORLD DOES NOT DESERVE YOU, THE ENTIRE UNIVERSE DOES NOT DESERVE YOU

okay Jorah is my new favorite person ever, i will never ever make a friendzone joke again HE GAVE LONGCLAW BACK HE DESERVES MY UNDYING RESPECT

...i take back what i said, my favorite person is Ned Stark. and Arya, but that goes without saying

my poor little sister, she has so much inside that needs to come out... i don’t agree with this snapping at Sansa at all buT I WANT TO JUST CUDDLE HER AND SOOTHE HER AND TELL HER EVERYTHING IS OKAY NOW ALL THAT HORROR IS BEHIND

...Sansa are you sure you want to talk bad about Jon in front of Arya

‘ no, that’s not Jon, he’ll understand’ .........GOODBYE WORLD MY MISSION HERE IS COMPLETE I CAN DIE PEACEFULLY

‘ i’ll go with anger’ --- but seriously, all the serious talk, can Jon just go the fuck home and glue back together this child’s pieces i am in physical pain over here help

...Tormund can you not speak of people kissed by fire in front of Jon, he’s sensitive to the topic. especially nearby that cave

omfg are they seriously discussing Brienne right now

‘ you don’t look much like your father ‘ UM EXCUSE YOU BERIC I LOVE YOU BUT RIGHT NOW I MAY HAVE TO SMACK YOUR FACE WITH EVERY SINGLE BOOK THAT SPEAKS OF HOW MUCH JON LOOKS JUST LIKE NED AND IS EVERY INCH A STARK THANK YOU

‘ i serve the North’ you are doing amazing sweetie

I AM THE SHIELD THAT GUARDS THE REALMS OF MEN I AM GOING TO FLING MYSELF OFF THE WINDOW LOOK AT HIM SAYING HIS WORDS SAYING MY FAVORITE PART OF THE VOWS

...okay but again. how in the world is Sandor now suddenly a better red priest than Melisandre and that woman has lived and practiced her arts for some 400 years is this even supposed to make sense

well Dany has ascended him to the category of hero, now we are going places

...Tyrion pls

Dany’s salt tho. am i glad Jon isn’t there to put up with this anymore is2g

...what’s the bet that bear is an undead one

okay so we are finally at the point where i start fearing for Jon’s life, hello darkness my old friend

...did anyone tell the bear that it is on fire FIRE IS SUPPOSED TO STOP WIGHTS IMMEDIATELY WHAT IS THIS

...holy shit Thoros, so much respect for you

welp here we have what we came for, dead men walking

OFC YOU GO IMMEDIATELY FOR THE OTHER WHILE EVERYONE ELSE GOES FOR THE WIGHTS, JON ...then again you are the only one with Valyrian steel

and that is one less White Walker in the world you are doing so well my son

...yes this is when everything goes downhill rip

...welcome to Hardhome again

THAT WAS REALLY FAST GENDRY ARE YOU ON STEROIDS OR WHAT

there goes the first member of the Fellowship, and the only one who could bring the others back... rip Thoros of Myr, you will be missed

Beric can you please NOT be just like ‘oh kill the Night King’ in front of Jon BECAUSE HE WILL GO AND ATTEMPT TO DO IT ON HIS OWN AND DIE IN THE PROCESS I DO NOT WANT HIM TO BREAK YOUR RECORD OF BEING DEAD AND COMING BACK 6x

...i am digging this Silent Hill like soundtrack ngl

Sansa if Jon ever hears that you are sending your loyal body-guard away you won’t ever hear the end of it, little lady

omg look at the babies sleeping ;;

my new aesthetics is Sandor bullying the wights and everyone else staring at him like ........bro can u not

......SANDOR LOOK WHAT YOU HAVE DONE IS2G

...thank you for saving my son, Jorah, you are my favorite person again

...Dany that was even faster than Gendry

BUT HEY YOUR GRACE GUESS WHAT MYTH IS ACTUALLY REAL THANK YOU FOR COMING TO HELP EVEN THOUGH MY KNEES ARE STILL UNBENT

...oh shit the Night King is joining the party

JON FOR THE LOVE OF THE GODS WILL YOU STOP PLAYING THE HERO AND JUST CLIMB ONTO RHAEGAL I AM NOT PREPARED TO SEE YOU DIE AGAIN

...did he just

oh my god i am honestly tearing up what the fuck...

...this is where my heart stops

where is Mel WE NEED MEL I NEED MEL

MY CHILD MY SON MY STUPID FUCKING DON’T YOU EVER DO THAT AGAIN TO ME SDJSDAYUASDYU

...somewhere in the afterlife Ygritte is snickering like i told you to get naked before going for a plunge you know nothing Jon Snow

...Jon I swear this is the day i personally bash your face in WHAT. IN THE SEVEN HELLS. ARE YOU DOING.

.................OH MY GOD I WAS NOT EXPECTING THIS I’M

today just in HOW MANY PEOPLE HE LOVES MUST DIE IN FRONT OF JON BEFORE MY MAD KING VERSE BECOMES THE CANON

...why is there only Drogon left, the Night King only killed Rhaegal. or was it Rhaegal even? BUT OFC IT MUST HAVE BEEN RHAEGAL JUST SO THAT JON COULD NOT EVER WARG INTO HIM BUT I AM SO FIXING THIS IN MY THREADS

...well at least this time he did not return with arrow holes

i guess the knife in the heart wasn’t just a figure of speech was it Your Grace

Sansa & Arya can you both please stop Jon is in no fit state to yell at you both right now oh my god

Jon you just almost died again why are you apologizing it is the world that needs to bend the knee for you and apologize for everything

...oh my god what where did Dany come from I AM SO CONFUSED BUT IT WAS ACTUALLY CUTE

...........................i’m just. okay. it’s fair, in the situation, it’s fair. holy shit the meta that i will write about this though

...oh. my. god. and here we have everything no one ever asked for... we are all doomed that’s it. rip.

[best-reviews]

7 Tips to Help You Choose the Best Artificial Christmas Tree

Choosing the Christmas tree

There are many ways people choose to celebrate the Christmas holidays. Each of us have different needs and while some prefer a natural Christmas tree to brighten up their winter spirit, some turn to the artificial tree. With both options come several pros and cons, but who are we to judge, right? This article will not only detail a little on what advantages and disadvantages come with a real vs. artificial tree. You’ll also find out more on what to look out for when buying the best artificial Christmas tree that will decorate your home for many years to come. An artificial tree is a long-term investment If we were to go back some years in the past, we’d never even think of buying an artificial tree, having the options that we have nowadays. In the past, such trees came in quite unrealistic forms. It was pretty hard to completely feel the Christmas vibe around it. But that was life back then. However, in the present world, we should be extremely thankful because artificial Christmas trees have come a long way as they look more real and the quality is far better. Artificial Christmas trees variety You can find all shapes and sizes and even on different colors, like either green or white. They’re not very expensive and this is probably why so many people have turned to this option. In fact, the National Christmas Tree Association noticed that during 2017 consumers bought about 21 million fake trees. The gap between the two (i.e. fake vs. real tress) seems to come to an end, as surveys show. Americans, however, bought more real trees than artificial ones during 2017. The fact of the matter is that no matter what option you go for, you should always be aware what you’re spending your money on. An artificial Christmas tree should be seen as a long-term investment and that is why this article might really give you a hand. Keep reading to find out more about what are the 7 most important aspect you should consider when you decide to spend some money for your holidays. Is the artificial or the real tree better for the environment? Everybody can agree on the fact that the scent of a real Christmas tree has its own magic. It gives your whole house that holiday vibe. You might even feel like you’re in the mountains or something. It’s really the essence of the winter holidays. If we were to think this through the environmental perspective, things might turn to another direction. Experts say that a single acre of real Christmas trees has the ability to absorb about a tone of carbon dioxide emissions. In comparison, the soil itself can take in as much as 10 times this amount. However, according to the USDA, there’s a whole Christmas trees’ industry. This creates numerous jobs for more than 100,000 Americans. This should not be understood as a general aspect. Not all areas have the same access to Christmas trees and it all depends on the place where you live. In fact, you should consider that maybe your tree was brought from many miles away. Therefore, the quality and the rate of its longevity can be questionable. Also, this can also have a lot of negative say in how the environment is impacted. But nowadays there are several recycling programs that care for the planet. This is how, annually, almost 93% of real Christmas trees are reused in landscaping and gardening products. So far, the pinpoint of what we’ve mentioned is that there is just one disadvantage that comes with a fake tree. You loose that magical pine scent and you might not feel all that holiday vibe. Budgeting for an artificial tree First off, you get to better organize your finances with an artificial tree. You don’t get to spend money each year to purchase a new one. Just take a look at what the National Christmas Tree Association has to say about the prices: a real Christmas tree is worth about $75an artificial one is somewhere on the lines of $107 Usually, a fake tree should last for almost 10 whole years. Therefore, from a financial point of view, a real tree is not too supportive. The fact of the matter is that budgeting when you plan to purchase an artificial tree can be quite complex. Even though we’ve mentioned that $100 is what you’ll pay for your artificial Christmas tree, your expenses can go crazy if you’re not careful. You should keep in mind that you don’t get to buy just the tree, but also some decorations. Most of us overlook this, but it’s something that can make a huge difference for your money. Therefore, it is best to be realistic and be aware of how much you are able to spend, according to your budget. If you want to feast your eyes with a surreal looking tree, but you cannot go past $150, then you might get really disappointed. The right time to invest in an artificial tree As soon as you know exactly how much you’re willing to spend on a fake Christmas tree, set your right time for the purchase. Now, this comes with some ups and downs. On the one hand, if you buy it too early, you might have to take some more money out of your pocket. On the other hand, if you sit too long, waiting for the perfect Christmas tree to knock at your door, you might seriously limit your options. According to USA Today’s Matt Granite, the first two weeks of December are the best time to purchase your tree. He calls it the “sweet spot”. But other opinions, such as the TreeClassics blog’s one, suggest that buying it on a Black Friday or on a Cyber Monday could really make a difference on your finances. However, choose the week immediately following Christmas or maybe even in the middle of July. All in all, there’s no right time to buy your artificial Christmas tree. Just do your research and stay true to your budget. Then look for the options that fit your needs best and go for it! How to figure out your tree’s measurements? First and foremost, you need to know exactly where you want to place it. It might be in the middle of your living room, or on a hall, in a corner. You know best, but you should know for sure before you go shopping. As you choose the right spot for you, now it’s the time to take the measurements. Figure out how much space you’ll need on the floor and the ceiling height. Generally, experts suggest leaving a 6-inch space for your tree topper. So now you are all set; you bought the right tree and it’s time to set it up. Make sure that you have full access to all its sides, as you’ll decorate not only in the front, right? Also, you should have enough space near outlets. Be smart and don’t place it near any electrical outlets, heat sources, or other things that have the potential of setting it on fire. It’s always best to prevent than to treat! What style should you choose? So you measured your space and now it’s time to decide what style you prefer that your artificial Christmas tree should have. Think about the species. Should it be a fir, spruce, baby redwood, or maybe something else? You can even choose from subcategories, like the balsam fir, white spruce, Frasier fir, and many more. Surveys show that Americans prefer the Frasier firs for their winter holidays. Besides the species criteria, think about the model. Do you prefer a flocked tree or a dusted one, just to give it that snow appearance? Here’s an FYI for you: those trees made from PVC (i.e. polyvinyl chloride) can be cheaper, but they also come with a less realistic look. For a more real look, you can always go for the PE (i.e. polyethylene) trees. For this type manufactures use an injection mold process. However, these do come with higher prices. What is the best tree manufacturer you should pick? Even though the vast majority of artificial Christmas trees are made in China, there is a big difference between different manufacturers, in terms of quality. If you have in mind a certain tree brand make sure that you buy from it after you made your research. This is especially important if you purchase it online. Try using The Better Business Bureau to help you find more about the reputation of a certain online company. It’s true that most of these companies’ headquarters are located overseas, but you can always give it a try. In the end, bad reputation gets spread quite easily. So if your tree brand has some issues, you should have no problem in finding them online. Also, keep an eye on warranties. Depending on the manufacturer, the length of your tree’s warranty can vary. Keep in mind that in most cases, the length is highly dependent on quality of the product. A suggestion would be Balsam Hill. This one is known as the best artificial tree manufacturer that provides its customers with a 3-year limited warranty. You can also give Best Choice a try. This one is a budget brand that has a 60-day warranty. A pre-lit or an unlit Christmas tree? This last one tip is for you figuring out whether a pre-lit tree or an unlit model will work for you. It’s best to know some aspects of both options before you decide to spend your money on one. On the one hand, pre lit Christmas trees look great and they do give your home that holiday vibe. However, you’ll need additional budget to get separate light strands. Such models are available in all sorts of shapes and sizes to meet your preferences. You can choose among clear, multi-colored, or a combination in lights. A tree that comes with a space of 8 to 10 inches between its lights will always look better, giving it a more balanced look. Also, such types of trees can be a clear sign of a higher quality. However, there’s one detail that you should not miss with these pre-lit trees: the higher price. It makes sense that all these options bring along more expenses from your part. But if you really want to merry your holidays, then money should not be an obstacle for you. For some people who don’t have that much money on their hands, but who strongly crave for a bright and shinny Christmas, the unlit artificial tree can still be a good option. As we mentioned previously, if you make your research ahead of time, you can buy a perfect tree. You can even make your own decorations with paper, glass, and other such DIY materials. The choice is all up to you…and your budget of course. Conclusions Christmas is a great time of the year where you should have everything that you desire. You don’t have to spend enormous sums of money on an artificial tree. You just have to plan your finances and make sure that you don’t play above your game. Do your research, plan your budget, and choose your artificial Christmas tree that will stay with you for the next 10 years. Read the full article

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Sticking With the Schuylers (41)

The answer to your question is yes, we’ll get back to the fluff. Eventually. For now, let’s catch up with Alex.

(I’m waking up in like 5 hours to go to the gym why do I do this to myself)

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Tagging: @linsnavi 

The steps from his-Eliza’s-apartment to the one he had shared with his friends are familiar. It doesn’t take too long to get from one to the other, as long as one’s timing with the subway is right. Alex doesn’t even bother with the subway; he has too many bags, anyway. And then he’d walked so far with his head in a fog that he’d missed the station completely, and hadn’t noticed until a few blocks had passed. Now, he’s stranded. Alexander stands ankle-deep in snow that bites with cold, in grey and frayed sweatpants torn from well-wear and only meant for home. His street-worn Converse are shoes he threw on in his hurry, and regret seeps into his skin just as the moisture of snow melts into his socks. Dampness consumes him as he stares at the streets ahead.

               His breath comes out in quickly dispersing streams of fog, the night becoming much too bitter to be hanging around with work-weakened arms. They hold the belongings he’d toted the other way not so long before. Six weeks hadn’t seemed like a long time, in the grand scheme of things. They say that it takes even longer to create a habit of something, but Alexander had made his home in only 42 days. In those days he’d gotten used to a lot of things. He’d gotten used to Eliza’s company.

               Coming home to her had become something of a treasure; the one thing he longed for from the moment she left the warmth of their bed. Working longer hours was both arduous and easy-he loved his work but he loved the feeling of her weight on his lap and her legs dangled over his more. She’d always make sure he wasn’t working past capacity. Then, there was their routine; carefully crafted upon unspoken words and that habit that had built in much shorter a time than normal.

               Eliza was always the first out of bed-stretched out to meet and sometimes even beat the rising sun. She always showered in the morning, and she always sang. Even when she thought he was still sleeping (he rarely slept past the time he felt her leave the bed), she hummed quietly, moving around in a sort of unintentional dance of contagious optimism. It always took him a little longer to leave the warmth of the bed and the dream-like light of gold seeping through soft curtains, but the humming and dancing always drew him out much sooner than he’d been accustomed to. Then he’d brew the coffee while Eliza made breakfast and they’d sit together at the island, happy in each other’s company. When it was their apartment, an almost whimsical feeling of warmth hung in the air. The walls were dusted with hues of gold and shining with a sun that existed only in Eliza’s gentle smile.

               When her apartment was theirs, Alexander lived in a constant state not of bliss, but of peace. His feelings lingered on a limb between settled and secure and relaxed, something he had not felt in years to come. Happiness snuck up on him slowly and wrapped its copper-dusted vines around him, climbing and enveloping and taking him over until he had been consumed with nothing but his own smile and warmth and light. And that vine reached so far, past his gut and his heart and his head, that often it transported Alexander. When he slept, that happiness extended to a place of consistent sunlight and ocean waves and small village shacks and marbles played on sand-dusted grounds. That copper vine took that sunlight and transferred its warmth to his heart, where often he felt his mother’s soft gaze or her hand through his hair or her voice, echoed in gentle song with his name over and over again. With Eliza-with this happiness-the good memories came easily.

               He’s not sure what he’s going to do without her.

               Maybe it’s dramatic, the way leaving her had feels like the end of a chapter. Somewhere within his mind is a voice which sounds its harrowing echo, teasing and taunting and creeping its way back in. And the further he gets away from his sun, with his snow-soaked shoes and the cold biting at his exposed skin, the worse the voices get.

               When he finally makes it to the old apartment his feet refuse to carry him any farther. Alex stands on the sidewalk, looking up at the place that had once felt like home. Before, this slightly run-down building had been a beacon. He’d known each crack in the sidewalk, each piece of dried-up gum stuck there. There was the old woman, still sat on the bench feeding birds that come dutifully to her side even though the January air chills their tiny feet. There’s the florist, who is treasured despite the fact that his flowers are almost always on the brink of death. And then there’s the door, that front door to the apartment building, with its little call box secured on the brick wall beside it.

               This is where Alex deposits his bags on the only dry patch of concrete he can find, in a haphazard pile. His shoulders ache. He stretches his arms to the sky. This exercise becomes a piece of the process that he prolongs quite generously, as his mind is still foggy and unable to fit together exactly what is happening. His finger hovers over the button for 403, and drops back to his side. The only other time he had had to call to be let in, he’d left his keys in the library at Columbia during finals his sophomore year. He’d been young, exhausted, and eager to find success at every turn back then. Not much has changed. He’d come all the way back to the apartment practically dragging his feet before remembering his mistake, and by then it had been too late to go back and retrieve his keys from the stack of books he’d thrown in the return. He’d gotten teased mercilessly that night, especially after waking everyone up so early in the morning. Then, Alex had been welcomed back with open arms and midnight snacks. But now…

               Now, he’s unsure of what to do. Now he has no key, no real tie to this place after he’d shoved it in John’s hands six weeks ago. He’s not even sure if his room is still in-tact. He’d been too ashamed to ask. He’d still come over for game nights every Friday, but so had Eliza and Angelica and even Peggy. Their dynamic hadn’t seemed to change other than the fact that when the consoles were shut off and the drinks gone, Alex would walk out the door instead of crawling to his bedroom. He still spent his allotted half hour between classes with John at Starbucks, joking and laughing as if things were still normal. Hercules still joined him in the library, sitting across from Alex and Eliza as she tutored them in language-which often meant teaching them how to say phrases meant more for the bedroom than every day conversation. He’d even made them a host of new pillow covers when she’d mentioned how their decorations weren’t quite coming together yet.

               Lafayette has been a different story.

               Alex hasn’t seen him since the night he’d moved. For six Fridays, he’s been too busy to come to game night, claiming study sessions or work or Skype calls to his family overseas. Bullshit, he hates them. He thinks-he knows-that there isn’t a stitch of truth within these excuses. He’d been too polite to say anything with Eliza present but more than anything he’d wanted to call his friend out, ask him why he was choosing to ostracize Alex instead of confronting whatever made him hate Eliza with such an unjustified passion.

               He supposes, as he raises his finger to the call button, that there’s no such time as the present.

                “Hey, it’s Alex. Can you let me up?” No answer. He waits a moment for the familiar click of the stairwell unlocking, but it does not come. So he presses the button again, repeating his message louder and with more certainty. It takes a minute for the lock to click open. He treads the familiar path with his feet weighing heavily on old wooden stairs, each creak familiar. They stab at his feet as the memories-good memories-come flying back. It’s not the end. It feels like the end.

               When he reaches the door it’s already open, with John on the other side. He takes one look at Alex, snow-soaked and miserable, and pulls half of the bags from his hands before leading him inside. He says nothing; John has a gift for knowing his best friend’s expressions, and this one is dark and consuming. This expression reads nothing more than ‘don’t ask.’ So he doesn’t. Instead, he moves the bags into Alex’s old bedroom, which to his relief has gone generally untouched in the past six weeks. It’s almost as if they’d expected him to fail. He can’t say he’s surprised that he did.

               Hercules comes out a while later, seeking a snack but finding Alex’s sunken frame on the couch instead. He moves to the fridge, rooting around before pulling out two beers. John is sat at the counter, nursing a glass of water with downturned lips and a shaking head.

               “He’s been like this for an hour.” John won’t turn his gaze from Alex, even though neither of the two have moved an inch since he’s walked in. Herc turns the two glass bottles in his hands, considering the situation at hand.

               “What happened?”

               “I haven’t asked.” When Herc’s eyebrows raise, and his mouth drops slightly, John sits up in his chair. “He came with bags, all of his stuff just dropped in his room. He walked here. I don’t think he wants to talk about why he suddenly has to be back here so fuck off, Herc.”

               “John, chill. I wasn’t saying you’re not a good friend. We all know how Alex gets. I’ll try and get something out of him.”

               Hercules Mulligan has a way about himself that is often completely unexpected, and yet Alex knows when he feels the shift of weight on the couch just what is about to happen. His mind has shut off. He refuses to acknowledge the cold condensation of the beer bottle on his arm, pricking against his fingers in an attempt to breathe life into him. Life will not come. Herc sighs, staring over at John who simply shrugs his shoulders in response. I told you so. But the larger, overly gentle figure of a friend is not done yet. He places both beers on the coffee table and puts his hands in his lap, looking over at Alexander without a break in contact between his eyes and Alex’s turned face.

               “Alex.” He calls his name softly, at first, an attempt to break the exterior his friend has put up. Alexander keeps his eyes trained on the droplets of water that have begun to slink their way slowly down the neck of the glass bottles, gathering in a puddle on the wood of the coffee table. Eliza would have used a coaster. “Alex, what happened? Why are all your things back here?”

               He figures it’s the nicest way anybody could have asked the question without actually asking it, and Alex appreciates the effort although it still stings. Did she break up with you? The words linger unspoken in the air between the three friends, especially from John’s quiet hideout at the kitchen island. He almost wishes they would ask outright-that the situation would be solved with one answer and the ability to hide in his room. He lets them sit and wonder for a while, exhausted and unwilling to speak. Herc takes a long pull of his beer before clearing his throat, drumming his fingertips on his leg.

               “There’ll be other girls,”

               “Alex.” Three heads turn to face the hallway, where a slightly disheveled Lafayette stands staring at the scene in front of him. He runs a hand over his poufy, full head of hair, which has been slightly disrupted by sleep. His dark eyes are covered by squinting eyelids, the light in the living room an immediate offense. John rises from his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. Alex remains silent; his name drips from Lafayette’s lips, deadpan.

               “What are you doing here?” He doesn’t move, not to walk away from Alex nor to get closer. He leans against the wall of the hallway, looking simultaneously disinterested and frustrated.

“He lives here.”

               “No, he doesn’t.”

               “Cool it.” Herc stands too, positioning himself in the middle of his roommates although nobody has moved to make a physical threat. He takes in a deep breath of air in hopes that they will do the same, but the only person responsive to this tactic is John. Alex has not done so much as blink, letting the beginnings of the argument crash around him. He has had enough today.

               “He’s moving back in with us.”

               “When did we decide this?”

               “Alex has lived here just as long as any of us. If he wants his room back he can have it.”

               “Who was the one that left us in the first place? And for what, a girl who wanted him for half a second then left him out to dry?”

               “Laff,”

               “-I’m not the one who chose upper society over my friends! I’m not the one who left them hanging with his portion of the rent!”

               “You know Alex is still paying his share, you’re full of shit.” John’s usually pacified, lopsided grin has turned into a crooked sort of smirk painted with tensed muscles and narrowed eyes. A bubbling of anger boils inside of him, like the slow cooking of a lobster screaming from the tension of the rolling heat. Alex’s sadness-his foggy, muted state-pains John more than he’d thought it would. He won’t even let his eyes near his friend again for fear of feeling too much at one time. In his mind, he’s gathering an extensive list of curses aimed toward both Lafayette and Eliza. And Alex just sits.

               “All I know is that for almost three years Alex was here, and one day he was just gone. How do we know he’s not going to leave again in a week when Eliza decides she wants her toy back?”

               “If you were able to see anything past your own mind then you’d know to shut the fuck up right now.” It’s the first time Alex has spoken since he entered the apartment-since he left Eliza’s. Lafayette’s pompous voice, dripping with arrogance and a nasally sort of pride, has been digging into him since he decided to join the conversation. He hadn’t expected this piece of the conversation to go well, truthfully, but he’d thought his friend would have the decency to sit and listen to him before deciding his fate. Alexander had tried sitting idly by when he was a child. It hadn’t worked. Now, he feels the immediate urgency to protect and to defend more than ever. His tone is dark and grumbling and his syllables laced with biting diction, so much so that he’s practically spitting out his words. Lafayette staggers backward in defense.

               “You want me to see past my own mind? What about you? What about you never even considering us when you went ahead and decided your life would be all about Eliza? What about the fact that that decision was pointless because all those girls want is a quick fuck before they get bored anyway?”

               “-You leave her out of this.” John is the first to notice the changes in Alex, the way his body increasingly tenses and his posture leans forward. At the mention of Eliza’s name he’s seen enough to launch himself forward the millisecond it happens. He catches Alex just as his hand, accompanied by a tightly closed fist, is just inches away from the Frenchman’s face. The two stagger forward, toppling to the carpet while their friends watch. Hercules holds a hand poised and ready to stop his twiggish friend, but Lafayette does not make any moves to continue the instigated fight.  Alex, still held back by John, stand and brushes himself off. His physical gusto has retired, but the verbal fire still burns bright and crackling with a new intensity set off by the embarrassment of missing his punch.

               “You have no idea what’s going on, you never could. You’re always going on and on about how wrong Manhattan and high society and people like them are but you’re worse than them. You’re a fucking hypocrite. I’m sorry that your own family sucked but here’s a newsflash-you’re not the only one suffering here. You’re not the only one who’s been through deep shit. And you’re not allowed to walk around here like you own the place just because some high society French girl decided that you weren’t good enough for her, or because your family is full of piece-of-shit people who don’t know how to use their money.”

               “-Don’t you dare,”

               “-I’m not done. I’m so sick and tired of you deciding you know everything about someone before giving them half a second to explain. You know what? This separation sucks. And no, I wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t been essentially kicked out. I know it’s hard for you to understand, but in an adult relationship, when you’re done screwing anything with its legs open, you have to make sacrifices you don’t really want to make sometimes. And it’s hard, and it’s painful, but you do it. And you can be upset with me for it but I’m doing this for Eliza, not for you. I could give two shits what you have to say to me right now because I’m trying to keep someone I love safe and happy and if that means moving out I’d move a fucking ocean away from her. That’s how love works. We’re not going to be stupid college kids forever.”

               “Va te faire mettre! You’ve always been a dramatic piece of shit and you know it.  You say I’m going after you because of my own life? I know my life was shit. But I never threw it away for some girl and that’s why I’m here right now. What about you? What happens when she doesn’t love you anymore? What happens then, when you’re used and thrown out and she’s got some other guy doing her dirty work for her?”

               “Shut up.”

               “-And we’re not going to be in college forever, you’re right. But at least I have the decency to treat the friends I’ve had since I moved here with respect. John was your first friend-when was the last time you thanked him for being there?”

               “You’re not throwing him into this too.” At this point, Alexander has closed the distance between himself and Lafayette. Although the French man is much taller than he is, he makes up for his lack of height with the biting acidity of his voice. The more Lafayette pushes, the louder Alex gets. “I’ve had enough of you-your attitude, your ego...”

               “Casse toi, va te faire cuire le cui!”

               “Fuck you too, Laff. And you know what, I still pay rent so if you need me I’ll be in my room. My room. In our apartment. If you have a problem with that, maybe you can find the door.”  

               The door slams violently behind Alexander, who has used so much force that the sound knocks at his head and lingers there. The sight he is met with turns his stomach to knots, his heartbeat continuing its rapid pace while sinking to his stomach. Piles of bags are cast haphazardly on the floor. His bed is still made. His calendar is still turned to December, dashes of important events written in his chicken-scratch with black pen coating its once clear surface.

               It is quiet here, but not in the way he had remembered.  As he moves to unzip the first bag he can hear murmured voices-John and Herc, cleaning up a dinner mess he hadn’t even known was there. He can hear the sound of the bathroom door clicking shut, the shower running at full blast. The clattering of dishes joins it, and then the TV starting up on the other side of his wall, in the living room. These are the sounds of home, of living and of being, but they are silent compared to what he had gotten used to. He longs for the sound of her bell-toned voice, laughing and singing and talking to her sisters on the phone. The commotion that had once lulled him to sleep now keeps him awake. Herc’s deep-toned voice echoes even when he is whispering. John’s bed, on the other side of the opposite wall, creaks with each movement he makes. His own bed is hard, and cold without her in it.

               And in this silence, he is consumed with a sudden and overwhelming pressure in his gut. It twists itself to his throat, where a lump forms and refuses to leave. In the silence, he is privy to his own thoughts. In his thoughts, there is nothing but guilt.

               He had yelled at Lafayette-at one of his oldest friends. One mention of Eliza’s name had driven him to the verbal destruction of someone who had welcomed him so openly to Columbia, and to America as a whole. Hell, they’d both went through the ringer and back together, two immigrants with imperfect families who’d just had to get away. America had been their fresh start, their second chance to get things right. Here, he was meant to make a name for himself. He’d never intended that name to be sewn between strings of French curses that felt truthful in the silence.

               It had always been John and Alexander, Herc and Lafayette. Even from the beginning, when they’d decided to move out of campus housing together, they’d been split into two pairs of friends looking to split rent and drink together. Alex and Laff were their common bond, sharing a class in mathematics neither really paid attention in. They’d bonded over their status as immigrants, shared stories through their notes as they pretended to pay attention. And then, when freshman year was over, they’d found this apartment. It was cheap enough, and in good distance to the subway, and they liked each other well enough to share a kitchen and a living room. They hadn’t known this apartment and this agreement would be the catalyst that they’d built their friendship upon. They hadn’t known how close they’d grow.

               They were the glue that brought this group together. This apartment was the common ground they’d grown in, and Alexander had just spoken about it as if it were nothing. The conversation plays over in his mind, unwillingly as his own behavior makes him wince. This time around, he is not focused on the insults thrown Eliza’s way. Instead, he listens to his own terse, flaming voice shooting fire at Lafayette. His stomach turns again, a reminder of what he has done. Eliza hadn’t deserved the words his friend had said about her, but he’d been just as bad. He’d lowered to a version of himself he hadn’t seen in a long time. He’d done it for Eliza, but at what cost?

               The realization of his actions send him across the hall, to the door with the French flag hung crooked-It’s not crooked, your eyes are-across its width. He knocks fervently, not caring who he’ll disrupt. He’d already stirred up the night, one more disturbance would just be commonplace. Necessary-this is necessary.

               Alexander watches Lafayette’s eyes darken the second he opens the door. He speaks in a voice much more gruff than his own, arms crossed over his chest in a preemptive act of defense.

               “What do you want now?”

               “I’m sorry.” The words come out in a slightly cracked tenor; admitting his fault has never been his strong suit, but although his attempt is feeble and the weakness almost laughable, Lafayette keeps his door open. He pokes his head out a bit further. He listens. “I just-there’s so much going on right now. So much. With myself, and with Eliza,”

               The name makes the French man roll his eyes again, which sets a spark to the defense in Alexander’s heart. But this isn’t about her honor-he repeats this mantra as he bites back the insults fresh on his tongue. This is about his friendship.

               “I know that I’ve been spending a lot of time with her. Most of my time, actually. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t aware of that. But there’s something going on there, with her, that’s bigger than anything I’ve ever faced before. And I know I need to be spending more time with you guys, and I know moving out was shitty on my part. This apartment does mean a lot to me, our friendship means a lot to me. But Eliza….Eliza’s it. I know she is. And what’s going on with her isn’t a joke. It’s sucked so much from our relationship, and from herself, and from me. I know I’m acting different. I know I need to come back to you guys. But this is getting serious and I just don’t know what to do.”

               It takes a moment for Lafayette to let the words sink in; one last plea from the guy from Nevis, the fellow immigrant with flyaway hair and bag-adorned eyes. His friend is wrapped in good intentions, always good. But the shift in focus from himself to Eliza hadn’t gone unnoticed, and it hurt to hear the softness of his words and the love he poured from his heart and his shining eyes into each syllable he spoke about her. Alexander is a mirror of a time remembered well by Lafayette, one he’d almost rather forget. It hits him with such force that he sighs, holding his hand behind his neck.

               “You know, it’s been five years since I left France-since Marie.”

               “Five years?”

               “Sometimes, it feels like less. Sometimes it feels like I’ve been here forever. But there are days I see a girl with blonde hair, or a jean jacket like she always used to wear, and I,” He pauses for a moment, his once stormy eyes lightening with a distant memory Alexander wishes he could see. He can feel it, the way Lafayette draws in a long and shaky breath. He clasps his hands together, fingers bumping against each other as he stays in his far-off world. “I miss her. And then, I wish that things had been different. Seeing you with Eliza…I don’t want you to live what I’m living. We’re un dans le meme, cursed with our hearts and our stubbornness and our love for things that shouldn’t belong to us. I never wanted you to get hurt.”

               “Okay.”

               “I shouldn’t have judged her so harshly, even based on my own account. I’m sorry, Alex.”

               “Just-just don’t treat her like shit, alright? She’s a good person, better than anybody I’ve ever known.”

               “I won’t, you have my word. And if you need help with any of this, any time…”

               “I know.” Alexander smiles then, light and airy as exhaustion finally consumes him. He nods once, slowly, before turning on his heel. When he gets to his door across the hall he turns, one last thought seeping from his lips as his hand connects with the doorknob. “If you need to talk-about her,”

               Lafayette shakes his head, a solemn smile playing at the corners of his lips. There is a hopelessness within his eyes that is sent across the hallway, in the air around them, as a remnant of what could have been. Just when Alexander thinks he’s about to share his thoughts Lafayette waves, a foot back in his own doorway.

               “Goodnight, Alex.”

               “Goodnight, Laff.”

[desunk]

26/01/2017 - Happy Birthday Benjamin!

Ola people! I trust all is well in your worlds.

Before I start with the update, I have 2 messages and a piece of news. First, Happy Birthday to my big bro Benjamin who is 36 today (hahaha). Second, good luck to my little sis Flora who is performing in "Legally Blonda" the musical in the lead part no less, over this weekend. Amazing! All my sibs are either getting very successful, starting jobs and careers, living it up in cities, driving, drinking in pubs or getting closer and closer to the big 4-0 (Ben and I, Ben more than me though!). Scary stuff! Third is the news. I shaved my beard of this week in a moment of madness and now deeply regret it. I am genuinely upset that I now find myself bare faced and have started the pain staking process of regrowing the thatch. If you could all just be mindful of the difficult and upsetting situation I find myself in, it would be much appreciated.  

Not much has occurred over here in Spain. Still at the same site just outside a town called Aguilas. We've been here just over 2 weeks now and I'm ready to move on! The weathers been great other than 4 days of serious wind and rain last week, the site is nice, but I don't like the area that much. Mountain biking, which as you all know by now is high up my list of priorities, has been shit here. Seriously shit. All wide gravel roads, private land and dead end climbs up hills. I've had some pretty disastrous rides over the 2 weeks here, the last of which was yesterday during my birthday ride. 

I had it all planned to do this coastal ride I'd found in a local tourist book. Starting at a place called Cabo Cope, I’d be riding up to Puntas de Calnegre then back down to Cabo Cope. A 19 miler which I pictured being something like riding a narrow coastal path in Cornwall, or so I thought. The reality was not even close. I rode 7 miles of boring wide gravel track (AGAIN), at which point the route ahead had collapsed in front of me where the cliff had selfishly slid into the sea, leaving me nowhere to go but back where I came from! To add insult to injury, I decided to take a detour and head down into a cove, but got a little bit carried way on the decent and stacked it onto some rocks after hitting some sand. 

Crashing relatively hard is funny thing. At almost 6 foot 4 inches and weighing in at reasonable heavy weight boxer kg's, I'm not the most agile. I get hit with three categories of pain. First, which we'll call "the rag dolling phase" is the initial jarring of the impact, wheel digging in, or whatever is throwing me from my bike. It's a bit like mini whiplash and just makes you feel like you've pulled muscles or strained tendons or ligaments. It's during this one that I make my obligatory girly noise. It's kind of a high pitched wince. Like you've taken a punch in the gut that's winded you, but you don't want to let on that you're hurt. I do that mid air. The second, which we'll call "the sack of shit phase" is obviously hitting the deck. This is usually either a hard knock to bony bits like knees and elbows, further jarring or some nice gravel, rock or rock rash. The third comes while in a pile on the ground. We'll call this "the moment of truth phase". This comes in like an unwanted belated birthday card as your brain runs through the damage you've done and decides which it needs to tell you about in order of priority. This is when you find out if something's broken or just a bit battered. All you can do is lie down or walk it off and see if there's any serious damage. That's the not so fun bit. Especially given your dickhead of a brain will often scream at you about some road rash while your foot is pointing the wrong way. The damage I always check for first, is damage to my pride. I jump up like nothing's happened, pick up the bike and start pushing while looking around for any unwanted witnesses. Once I know I'm in the clear, I check the most important thing, my bike. Once that's taken care of, I lie back down and let the pain wash over me before moving the sore bits to check for serious damage. Luckily I've never done much more than jar my neck, sprain a wrist of give myself some gravel rash. The bike doesn't always do so well. I've bent a crank, bent a set of handle bars, snapped a peddle off and buckled a wheel to name a few. 

Anyway, enough of that. The riding here is shit so the next stop is The Sierra Nevada to make up for it. 

The Sierra Nevada, for those who don't know, is a mountain range in the south of Spain with a highest point of 11,411 feet. This time of year the ski resort near the top is in full operation if it's not too warm. During the summer months the same lifts are used to transport mountain bikers up the mountain. Luckily, the slopes lower down the hill are covered in trails and see very little snow, so the riding is still some of the best in Spain. The only down side is that we'll be in land and at a higher altitude meaning the temperature will be much cooler. Erin's agreed to the colder weather for a week (so far) as I've been talking about the Sierra Nevada since before we left. I hope it lives up to the hype! 

What else? We've got the usual array of people on this site that I've given not so PC names to. I won’t tell you the names but there's the woman up the way that claims someone kicked her dog the other day. This I doubt as she seems a bit mental and the dog looks like a good sneeze would kill it. There's the English neighbour who's really nice but always has something to complain about. There's the Swedish couple who were dog walking on their travels somewhere and saw a fucking Brown Bear right next to them in the woods! They had to stop and stay perfectly still until the Bear got bored and wondered off! Holy frigging shit! 

The dawgs are good. We're struggling to find good food for them here or even to stay consistent from one bag to the next. This latest bag has made Bear particularly pungent. Some days it feels like my eye balls are going to fall out! I was fast asleep on the bed the other day with Bear next to me farting away. Unbeknown-st to me, during the night, Bear had turned around leaving my face at the business end of a very smelly English Bulldog, on food that turns his bum into a radioactive fallout zone. Instead of telling me, Erin just lay there and watched in disbelief, unable to believe the blasts from Bear weren't waking me up. Little fart story for you there.

Bear also had his jabs this week. No appointment needed, just rock up and get seen to in no time. Awesome! Erin took him in and apparently he got a good reception from the male vets in the building. They were all talking fast in Spanish while fussing him, but Erin made out the word "Amigo" said lots of times.

What else!? Oh, I came back from a trip to the supermarket today, only to be told that one of the guys trimming the palm trees here took a leak in front of all the caravans on ours and another row, even though there's a bog 50 metres away. These boys will piss anywhere, anytime with any audience. Little piss story for you there. ` 

What else!? All the usual really. Some nice walks which I'll add some photos of, bit of sunbathing, reading, watched the Matrix Films, eating, sleeping in and chilling out. We even had fish n chips as they do fish n chip Friday here, which has just made me realise it's fish n chip Friday again tomorrow!!!! Woohoo!!!! 

Update - just checked with Erin and we won’t be having fish n chips tomorrow. I forgot it was 16 euros! 4 euros more than it costs us to stay here for 1 night!

I think that's it folks. Next update from the Sierra Nevada!

Don’t forget -  “The world is a book and those who do not travel read only one page.” St Augustine.  

TTFN!!!

The coast just north of Cabo Cope

In order left to right - Luke, Bears arsehole and Erin.

Erin on the beach

Luke on the beach

Looking back towards Cabo Cope

The rain in Spain!

The usual seating arrangment

The hill we “almost” walked up!

Beautiful tree in barren land

The cuteness

My excited beardless face, pre birthday ride

Saga holiday gone wrong - zoom in

The view from my crash site

Hobbits? 

[kansascityhappenings]

Joe’s Weather Blog: A lot of you are getting grumpy about the winter (TUE-2/19)

So much winter. I remember back in January sometime…I think it was towards the early part of the month when I was randomly speculating IF the warmer weather we were enjoying was, in fact, our somewhat typical January thaw, except it was about 2-3 weeks early. It feels like that now. We have been persistently chilly…the snow on the ground isn’t helping and we’re about to add more snow on top of the snow on the ground. There should be some big-time melting heading into the weekend associated with storm #4 but the longer term trends are colder than average…there won’t be an early spring it appears and that darn groundhog failed the Plains this year.

Forecast:

Today: Increasing and lowering clouds but overall we should be fine through the middle of the afternoon. No issues to get around through 4PM (at least). Highs near 30°

Tonight: Snow quickly arrives from the south…there might be a little melting on the pavement at first but the snow should fall quick and hard for many areas for a few hours tonight. It appears most of our accumulations will have to happen by about 1-2AM or so tomorrow morning. Accumulations will be in the 3-6″ range. 6″ does seem to be a bit on the high side of the totals to me this morning…so I would count on 3-4″ for the KC Metro area…some 5″ers perhaps on the northern side of the Metro and some 2-3″ers on the farther south side of the KC Metro area. There will be a conversion to some freezing rain/drizzle/mist overnight. IF that conversion doesn’t take place…we could see an extra inch of snow.

Wednesday: Lots of clouds with hopefully some PM sunshine at some point. SW winds will help to start the melting process. This will be a wetter snow compared to last Friday. Better snowman making snow for the kids at least. Highs near 32°

Thursday: Not too bad with highs in the 30s. Average is near 45° though.

Discussion:

We’ll get to the snow situation towards the back half of the blog.

Let’s sort of put all this snow into perspective since I’ve been showing these stats on the air and some of you don’t read the weather blog day in and day out.

So far this winter we’re up to 23.3″ of snow.

Average for an entire winter in the KC area is 18.8″

For the winter season to date (that’s important) we’ve had the 21st fastest start to the snow season.

We will be going up that ranking after tonight and tomorrow early morning.

4. Overall though when you look at the previous winter snows…and put the current 23.3″ into that…this ranks as the 46th snowiest winter in KC weather history going back to the 1880s. Obviously after tonight we’ll go up that list a few more notches. Heck if KCI gets 4″ or so…we’ll vault into the Top 30!

If you’re wondering about the Top 10 in KC…

You can see the standout winters of 09-10 and 10-11 in the top 10 rankings.

2012-13 was another big winter with over 31″ of snow.

So it’s been awhile.

Something else that is sort of interesting is the track of these systems during FEB…at least at the surface…courtesy Ralphs Weather OBS (@WeatherNut27)

Let’s go back another month to January…

The 1/11-13 storm was the one that nailed us pretty good…and for the month we had over 9″ of snow @ KCI.

Most of those tracks are good ones for snow in the region. There have been some hybrid tracks too. For example the system coming through tonight…it’s a weird one…if you were to show me this forecast map for most winters (this map is valid Wednesday morning) I would probably tell you we wouldn’t get much, if any, snow.

Mother Nature doesn’t like being boxed in though…and that is the case tonight.

Another thing before the snow talk…that is the crazy fast jet stream that is above the USA right now. Let’s go up to about 35,000 feet or so or around the 200 mb level…and look at the river of air flowing through the USA. This is from last night.

Remember last week when we talked about the various weather balloon launches around North America…some 100 or so. That data is on the above map. The winds are measured in knots. 100 kts=115 MPH. Each bold “flag” above is a 50 kt flag…2 of them would be 100 kts and 3 would be 150 kts.

So the air way up there above the KC area is flying along…like the water in a fast moving and funneled river of water at close to 150 kts or close to 175 mph!

What’s fascinating is that when they launched the weather balloon yesterday in Dodge City, KS…it flew towards the ENE. It rises to around 100,000 feet and then pops and falls down. Odds are it’s somewhere in a field in central KS.

…Our weather balloon is going to get the heck out of Dodge tonight… This is a forecast flight trajectory of tonight's weather balloon/radiosonde journey. Starts right here in Dodge, whisked away by a 170-180 mph jet, finally lands SE of Salina/middle of the state of KS. #kswx pic.twitter.com/IXE0PV9pHs

— NWS Dodge City (@NWSDodgeCity) February 18, 2019

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So IF a plane catches that jet stream…let’s say it’s flying from LA to London…

Virgin Galactic flight 8 was clocked earlier heading NE at 801mph (GPS based ground speed) as a result of an anomalous jet stream core located over the E US – https://t.co/ut6ENOHI5A pic.twitter.com/ROC3bw5Omg

— Steve Hallett (@hallettwx) February 19, 2019

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Why do airlines love flying with a tailwind…because 1) it gets people to their destination faster and 2) it saves them a LOT of money.

How crucial is weather information for airlines? Take this Boeing 747. It burns about 5,700lbs of fuel per hr at cruise. By catching this intense jet stream, it could cut 1-2hrs off the trip which would save BA 1,700 gallons of Jet-A @ 4-5 bucks per gallon. On this one flight. pic.twitter.com/fp6NvC4jrs

— Chris Jackson (@ChrisJacksonSC) February 19, 2019

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$4/gallon of jet fuel x’s 1700 gallons = about $7000 in savings!

Last night the air was flowing at around 230 MPH over Long Island, NY…the strongest winds EVER observed up there since balloons have been launched…that’s pretty amazing!

201 knots on the evening weather balloon launch appears to be a record for OKX at 250 hPa. Records go back to 1957 (when balloons were launched at Idlewild Airport). pic.twitter.com/kQqprM3qkY

— Ryan Hanrahan (@ryanhanrahan) February 19, 2019

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Amazing stuff really.

Onwards to the situation for tonight.

3-6″ is still a good forecast. Again that 6″ highside number may be tough to reach in the Metro but odds are it will get close towards NW MO and parts of NE KS.

A Winter Weather Advisory is in effect for the region with Winter Storm Warnings towards the north of KC into NW MO and NE KS.

Here is a look at radar. You may see activity out there on radar through early this afternoon but most, if not all of the returns will be evaporating before they reach the ground…let’s call it “snirga” instead of virga (the real word to use). Heck if I can talk about dippin’ dots as much as I talked about dippin’ dots over the weekend because of what happened on Saturday…

The key time to watch is around 4-7 PM or so..we’d love for the snow to hold off and get us through rush hour without too many issues. IF the snow arrives early…there may be some wet roads (some melting) then slushy to slick roads…so IF we can have this hold off till after rush that would be a positive.

Once it really gets going we should have several hours of moderate to at times heavy snow bursts moving through the region through the 1AM hour…so the bulk of the accumulation will have to happen before that time I think. That’s about 6 hours or so of 1/2″/hour (average) snow rates…and maybe an 1-2 hour of 1″/hour rates. That should get us an easy 3″ of snow for many areas.

Here is the HRRR model indicating the snow timing…hopefully this will auto-update for you through the day/night.

From there let’s see what happens with the dreaded and fast moving dry slot, that while not shutting down ALL the snow, will remove the better moisture in the more favored area of the atmosphere where snow likes to form. When that moisture is removed you can get areas of freezing drizzle/mist/rain to move through, perhaps adding to a light glaze on top of the snow. This dry slot may cut the amounts towards the SE of KC especially and also farther south.

Areas farther north though won’t get into that dry slot till sometime after 3AM Wednesday..more snow production=higher totals up to the north and perhaps northwest of KC.

Confidence levels…average totals

Dusting to 2″: 100%

2-4″: 100%

4-6″: 60% (towards the lower side of that)

Over 6″: 10%

Over 10″: 0%

Again widespread 3-6″ seems to be a good forecast with lower towards SE and higher towards the NW part of the state…5-7″ or so up there. I do think that 6″ is a real push for the KC Metro.

More or less a system that will be similar in amounts to what happened this past Friday. The snow characteristics will be wetter and not as dry as what happened this past Friday too…so that is better snowman and snowball type snow I think.

Our feature photo comes from Tedd Scofield

OK that’s it. Feel free to follow me on Twitter @fox4wx and also on FB (Joe Lauria Fox 4 Meteorologist) for more updates. I’ll do a FB live this evening…sometime around 8 or 8:15 or so like last night. It should be going pretty good by then.

Joe

  from FOX 4 Kansas City WDAF-TV | News, Weather, Sports https://fox4kc.com/2019/02/19/joes-weather-blog-a-lot-of-you-are-getting-grumpy-about-the-winter-tue-2-19/

from Kansas City Happenings https://kansascityhappenings.wordpress.com/2019/02/19/joes-weather-blog-a-lot-of-you-are-getting-grumpy-about-the-winter-tue-2-19/

[garynsmith]

10 things you need to know before buying or selling an equestrian property

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Ranging from modest homes with just enough land to house an aging family pony to multi-million dollar equestrian estates, few types of property require such a specific field of knowledge including equine health care, safety, state liability laws and pasture management.

Most clients looking to have their horses on their own property usually have a pretty good idea of what they want. Most first-time equestrian property buyers already own at least one horse, if not more than one, and they are currently paying to keep their four-legged friend at someone else’s facility.

For any number of reasons, these owners have decided they want to move somewhere where their horse can live with them.

Many horse farm buyers have dreamed of the day they could wake up, make a cup of coffee and go out and care for their own horse. This is a very emotional and exciting process for them, and they will have done lots of research.

Some buyers may even bring their friends, trainers or veterinarians out to see a property before putting in an offer.

The top concerns of the average horse property buyer are for the horse’s health, safety and well-being rather than their own comfort.

Taking care of horses is a full-time job in itself. It never fails to amaze me how difficult it can be to keep a horse healthy, sound and happy, and I’ve been caring for horses for over 35 years.

Whoever came up with the saying “healthy as a horse” never owned one, as few animals are as accident and illness prone as the average horse.

So when marketing the listing toward potential equestrian use, there is a lot that goes into deciding if the property really is suited for horses.

Here is my top 10 list of what you need to know about buying and selling an equestrian property.

1. Know the land

Not all land is conducive to horse keeping — steep slopes, heavily wooded areas and marshy areas consisting of poorly draining soil are all inadvisable qualities in a horse facility.

Steep slopes put undue strain on delicate tendons and ligaments, sharp tree branches are all reaching out to scratch unprotected eyes and soupy soil can cause hoof walls to rot and weaken.

Very rocky soil can cause bruising to tender soles of the hooves and stress and crack hoof walls. Farms with standing water can be breeding grounds for mosquitoes that can transmit potentially fatal equine diseases.

Do your research, and also find out if the property is going to have adequate water for equine needs. The average horse drinks five to 10 gallons of water per day, so having a deep well with high yield will come in handy filling 150 gallon troughs.

Also, know where the “after effects” of all the grass, water and grain a horse eats is going to go. The average 1,000-pound horse gives off 37 pounds of manure and 2.4 gallons of urine a day.

If there isn’t one already there, have an idea where the most convenient place to put a manure pile will be that fits into local zoning regulations, environmental regulations and potential HOA regulations.

2. Is that a bank barn, pole barn or shed row?

Just as there are different styles of homes, there are different styles of barns. Is there a loft with hay storage? If yes, how many bales does it hold? How many stalls are in there, and is there room for storage or equipment?

Also, in the pastures, are there structures, usually called run-in sheds for the horses to escape beating sun, driving rain or get out of winter winds?

Especially if there is no barn on the property, horses must have some form of shelter to protect them from extreme weather conditions.

3. Where do I keep my tack?

Horse people have a lot of equipment for the care and riding of their horses, and this all needs to be kept somewhere, usually called a tack room. This is where saddles, bridles, blankets, grooming supplies and more are kept.

It is not unusual for a saddle to be $2,000 – $4,000, so tack storage areas need to be secure from not only the possibility of theft but also the potential ravages of critters.

Mice leave behind droppings, make a mess and can chew through delicate stitching and weaken leather.

A tack room should be protected from extremes in temperature, which can also weaken and damage leather goods.

Many riders keep first aid supplies and medications in the barn, and all medications should be kept in temperature-controlled areas to prevent spoiling of the active ingredients.

4. Why do I need a feed room?

Horses love to eat. If it were up to them, they would eat all day, and most of the night, too. The equine animal is designed to graze and eat slowly and steadily throughout the day.

One of the most frightening scenes to find first thing in the morning is a horse that has somehow gotten into a feed room and gorged on grain.

As humans, if we eat something that may have gone bad, or overeat and get a stomach ache, we may throw up and then feel better.

Horses are not physically able to vomit. This can lead to an episode of colic, or severe stomach pain, and can be fatal. A horse-proof place to store grain is a must. Ideally, the storage should also be rodent proof, as well.

5. Check the fences

My in-laws live down the street from a beautiful horse property that was lovely in every way — except the fences.

One night, their neighbor’s horse broke through the fence, was standing in the middle of the road and was hit by a speeding car. The horse was killed, and the driver of the vehicle was severely injured.

Fences must be strong, sturdy and checked regularly for loose nails, cracked boards or loose posts. Three- and four-board wood fences are the most common types, with electric tape, vinyl and no-climb wire also being popular.

Barbed wire should never be used on an equestrian property — some of the most gruesome injuries I have ever seen were when a horse got tangled in barbed wire and panicked.

6. Ride out?

This is one category that causes more problems for the listing agent than any of the others. Ride out is the term used by equestrians to denote if there are riding trails or areas off the property that are allowed for equestrian use.

I often see agents comment: “Miles of trails!” Unless there is a public park next door that allows equestrian use, do not say you can ride on other people’s property. With increased liability and fear of lawsuits, fewer and fewer private landowners are allowing people to ride on their properties.

The buyer is not going to be at all pleased if the first time they take Mr. Ed on a leisurely trail ride through their neighbor’s acreage they get shot at for trespassing.

7. Find out what the area surfaces are made of

Horses have incredibly delicate tendons and ligaments in their legs, and if they tear or rupture one, it can be a career ending, if not a fatal, injury. Because of this, it’s no surprise training surfaces, like in arenas, now have any number of options to cushion the impact of repeated stress.

From bluestone and sand to synthetic materials including rubber and felt, know what the surface is and how old it is.

Sand breaks down through repeated use and time and will need to be replaced. The synthetic materials can be very expensive and are a major selling point of a property to a serious competitor.

It’s not unusual for a complete arena installation to be between $50,000 and $100,000, or more. Arenas always deserve a mention along with upgraded footing — this alone can be a major selling point.

8. Is there access for vets, farriers and trailers?

Horses require a lot of people to keep them healthy. Farriers trim equine feet and attach shoes as needed every four to six weeks.

Veterinarians usually visit a minimum of twice a year for checkups and vaccines, and many horses also get at least a once yearly visit from the equine dentist.

Having a way for them to easily access your barn and then have a place that is well-lit to safely work, even potentially late at night, is a must.

Somehow, horses know the most inconvenient time to get sick — mine save up their sick time for 6 p.m. on the Friday before a major holiday weekend to have their most serious illnesses and injuries.

Not only do all of these people need a place to work on your horse, they also need a place to park their truck where they have easy access to the tools of their trade.

Having a dirt path to the barn that turns into eight inches of shoe-sucking mud during the spring rainy season will make for a very cranky veterinarian if they get their vehicle stuck at your farm.

Also, if owners plan to have feed and hay delivered, those very large heavy trucks need a way to get into the property and to the place where they need to deliver. If they don’t think they can get to your property without getting stuck, they won’t deliver.

9. Look for farm equipment storage and parking

You are also going to need a place to park all of your farm “toys.” Horse trailers, tractors, mowers, manure spreaders, trucks, arena maintenance equipment and whatever else you have all need a place to live.

Keeping machines covered or in some form of garage will make them last longer and work more reliably.

Some equipment, like a bush hog, will probably only be used a handful of times a year. These are the tools that can and will run forever if properly maintained and protected from the elements.

10. Figure out a bad weather plan

Every farm owner needs a plan for bad weather. Deciding to come up with a game plan for a snowstorm once the flurries begin is way too late.

If homeowners are in areas with wildfires, they need a plan for how to get their horses to safety. In areas that may flood, they may need to trailer their horses out to somewhere higher and drier well before the storm even begins.

If a huge snow is expected where they may be snowed in, they need a plan for how to get to their barn to feed and water the animals. If the barn is two miles from the house, they will need heavy equipment to make sure they can get to their horses in a timely manner.

By addressing these 10 key horse facility concerns in your marketing, you will be helping prospective buyers check off the must haves on their needs and wants list. If the property you are selling is coming up lacking in a certain category, have a plan for what could work for them instead.

For example, does your barn not have a feed room? No problem, be able to tell them where they can buy horse-proof feed bins to put in the extra wide aisle.

No existing tack room? Show the potential buyer where one could be added on after purchase, or maybe the buyer could turn an existing stall into storage instead.

Always remember a true horse person is going to want what is best for their horses.

By accentuating the reasons your listing is the home where every horse would want to live, you will draw potential buyers to your equine property like flies to a manure pile — or more poetically, flies to honey!

Maria Dampman is the owner and manager of Smiling Cat Farm and a Virginia State licensed Realtor and ABR with Century 21 Redwood in Leesburg, Virginia. Visit her on Facebook or LinkedIn.

Email Maria Dampman

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Our Aluminum Four Seasons 2017 Jaguar F-Pace S tows an Aluminum Airstream

Science isn’t really my thing, but how about we do a little science-ing anyway. Our four seasons 2017 Jaguar F-Pace S is comprised of roughly 75 percent aluminum, with most of the body panels and its monocoque constructed from the stuff. Airstream trailers are the most recognizable aluminum soda cans on wheels (although it does have a steel frame). Aluminum towing aluminum? Sounds like a reasonable experiment to me.

Now let’s add some more variables into the Petri dish, namely my retired parents, who I decided to take camping with me in this setup after a 36-year outdoor family adventure hiatus. Snow in the forecast? Uh, maybe this is getting a bit too insane. But I was dying to see how well this 4,481 pound luxury SUV with a towing capacity of 5,290 pounds could pull the aerodynamic and graceful Airstream that weighed in at around 4,600 pounds with all our gear. Let the research begin!

Short of hauling a payload from Bloomingdale’s, actually towing anything of substance probably isn’t high on the priority list of most F-Pace owners. But somewhat surprisingly, Jaguar tells us that around 14 percent of customers opt for the tow package. For around $1,600 excluding labor, the local Jaguar Land Rover dealer can hook them up if they so desire like they did for us (the hitch is also available as a factory option depending on F-Pace spec). There was one small hiccup when we got to the Airstream dealer, however, the Curt Class III trailer hitch needed a more robust 2.5-inch ball mount. Airstream got us properly set up though and then walked my parents and I through the relatively simple hitching and unhitching process.

With Airstream’s 22 foot, single axle Sport edition having successfully joined our party, we were ready to roll. Right after the Airstream got hitched I took a step back, looked at the riveted fuselage hooked up to the Italian Racing Red F-Pace and was blown away at how damn handsome the whole package was. If we didn’t make it the approximately 300 miles each way from Los Angeles to Mammoth Lakes and back in one piece, at least we’d look good on the side of the road somewhere.

Initial feedback on the F-Pace’s interior from Mom and Dad was positive. Both reported they were comfortable. Mom had plenty of legroom situated behind me. Dad didn’t find the 14 different seat adjustment options in his passenger side sport inspired bucket until we were 20 minutes from home on the way back, but I wasn’t about to make this trip twice solely so he could improve the comfort level of his backside. After a couple of hours of driving, my back started to feel a bit stiff. Perhaps the F-Pace is more conducive for shorter jaunts, or maybe it was because I was a little stressed given it was my first time hauling a big trailer.

The nav system was helpful enough, though inputting our final destination wasn’t as simple as I’d hoped. Eventually we it got figured out, but not without a requisite father/daughter scuffle over where to type in a popular destination instead of a specific address. You know I’d be lying if I didn’t cop to at least one such familial incident.

There are two beefs I have with the interior. First is the dial gear shifter. Aside from the fact that I was constantly worried I’d turn it the wrong way and throw it into reverse when I meant park, it’s a terrible waste of space on the center stack. I wouldn’t be disappointed if I never saw this used in any other car ever. Second, the window controls, which are placed on the top of the door panel where the controls for the rear-view mirror usually are. For someone like me with T-Rex arms, they were a bit of a stretch. They should be closer.

Not halfway through the five-plus hour drive and I forgot I was pulling anything.

The F-Pace’s 380 hp supercharged V-6 is a lot of animal. It produces plenty of torque as well at 332 lb-ft. The combo was more than enough to haul the lighting rod of a camper we were pulling toward the rapidly darkening skies circling over the mountains. The Driver’s Assistance Package ($3,200), that includes a 360-degree camera setup, adaptive cruise control, and a heads up display, was my best friend. Seeing behind the Airstream was near impossible, so I was thrilled to have driver-assisted anything.

The crucial part of our experiment would be the final hike from Bishop to Mammoth – an ascent of about 4,300 feet in only 45 miles. Quite quickly the looming storm turned into a full-fledged one when just outside of Bishop it started to rain. Okay, no problem. Firstly, because of the automatic wiper feature, and more importantly, because the F-Pace’s 113.1 inch wheelbase and 20-inch Goodyear Eagle F1 tires kept us feeling pretty stable. The double-wishbone front and Integral Link rear suspension setup is tuned to allow those Eagles to maintain as much contact with the road as possible throughout the ute’s full range of suspension travel, which was especially helpful when the trailer tried to knock us around on the bumps.

Somewhere around 5,000 feet it started to snow. “Just whatever you do, don’t tow anything in the snow,” was the one warning I got from a friend who knows. But there was no turning back now, because we needed to get to the campground and unhitch before sunset. Fuel efficiency during this final climb of the trip wasn’t pretty. We averaged as little as 6 mpg during the ascent, but I didn’t care as long as we got there in one piece. Which we did. Unhitching a trailer in below freezing temps isn’t something I endorse, but the nice folks at McGee Creek RV Park were amazing and helped get us set up before the Woodwards turned into the Donner party.

An Airstream doesn’t take long to figure out. Once you get it detached from your tow vehicle and cranked into place (the Sport model doesn’t have an automatic hitch jack, and hand cranking can be a bit of a workout, but it was cold and I didn’t mind) it’s simply a matter of plugging the right hoses into the right hookups and flipping on important things like the water pump and the heater, and you’re good to go. This wasn’t rocket science. Giving my parents the trailer in which to luxuriate for the week was the plan. I’d come prepared with a tent, but the weather became a control variable I hadn’t properly accounted for.

There was no way I was going to pitch a tent in the snow, so I opted to sleep in the F-Pace. (Note: Do not sleep in an F-Pace in subzero weather.) My 5-foot 5-inches fit okay in the 63.5 cu-ft of cargo room with the rear seats folded. However, they don’t fold completely flush so I was sleeping at a tilted angle. Despite having a memory foam mattress topper, a sleeping bag, a down comforter, and a hot water bottle at my feet, it was still about 25 degrees inside the car by sunrise.

By 9 a.m. I’d marched my parents across the street and got them set up in a lodge, and I took my rightful place in the Airstream. That’s more like it! (While Airstream claims the 22 foot Sport can sleep four adults, I’d say it was more suited for two adults and two half-sized children who don’t notice that the convertible dinette feels more like quartz countertop than a mattress.) In every other way it’s like the glamping pics you envy on Pinterest. It comes equipped with a gas stove top and convection oven, a full bathroom with a stand-alone shower, and plenty of windows to take in the vistas of wherever you’re pulling this metallic palace.

With the Jag unleashed from its yoke, we were eager to see how it ran on the windy roads of the Eastern Sierras. The AWD system made mountain twisties a blast even with me going a bit slower given that Mom was strapped down in the back seat. Steering felt balanced and responsive, quick, and well connected. The Jag’s Adaptive Dynamic Surface Response system monitors the body movement of the car and makes proportionate adjustments to the engine, transmission, steering and suspension, all of which helped make the Jaguar feel like a mountain lion. On fire roads or lose gravel it was prone to oversteer, but overall the F-Pace proved to be a hearty trooper. And an oh-so-stylish one at that, as it scores major style points in all the ways a crossover in this exploding luxury category should. While there are some out there who still may not fully embrace the notion of a Jaguar SUV, thanks to its elegant but aggressive bodylines and strong, cat-like haunches, it has more than enough Jaguar DNA to make it work for me.

During our two-day getaway, we marveled at wide valley vistas and caught two Rainbows, a Cutthroat, and a Scottish Brown trout during an outing on Lake Crowley. We ate pizza (as you do when it’s too windy to build a campfire and make S’mores) and tried to get to Lake Mary, but the road was still closed from Southern California’s biggest winter since 2010. Moreover, my family and I were reminded of the last time we’d come up to the area in the early ’80s, our gear packed into the trunk of a ’79 Mercury Marquis Brougham. Clearly, we’ve never been much of an outdoorsy family, but on this trip, as on the last, our one scientific constant was this already well-bonded family crushes luxury car camping.

Hitching up for the trip home was a breeze. On the trek back, I played with the F-Pace’s different drive modes while my parents slept like two spent kids after a long day at Disneyland. Eco mode was a bust. In addition to pulling the trailer it felt like ten refrigerators were added to our load. Dynamic mode definitely offered up more power, but I could watch the fuel gauge hurtle in real time toward empty faster than I’d like. Normal mode seemed just right as we cruised home. We averaged about 14 mpg over the entire trip, which is about the same gas mileage as a Buick Enclave does just driving itself. Color me impressed. Base price on the F-Pace is $58,695, as tested ours comes in at $71,360. The Airstream Sport’s starting price is $52,900.

My extremely scientific conclusion? Aluminum towing aluminum in the snow with retired parents turned out to be one fine experiment that bears duplication again and again.

Our 2017 Jaguar F-Pace S

MILES TO DATE 8,565 PRICE $71,360 ENGINE 3.0L supercharged DOHC 24-valve V-6/380 hp @ 6,500 rpm, 332 lb-ft @ 4,500 rpm TRANSMISSION 8-speed automatic LAYOUT 4-door, 5-passenger, front-engine, AWD SUV EPA MILEAGE 20/26 mpg (city/hwy) L x W x H 186.3 x 76.2 x 65.6 in WHEELBASE 113.1 in WEIGHT 4,015 lb 0-60 MPH 5.1 sec TOP SPEED 155 mph

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