#garage door Wisconsin

[garagedoorsupplierwisconsin]

How to Deal With a Crashed Garage Door in Three Steps

If your garage door has crashed down, it's probably the worst feeling in the world. It can be a real pain to get back up and running again—but it doesn't have to be! Here are three steps you can take to get your garage door up and running again as soon as possible.

Figure Out What's Wrong

Figure out what's wrong

Decide if you can fix it yourself or need to hire a pro

Get on the right path to getting things fixed quickly, safely, and affordably

Make Sure the Door Is Secured

Make sure the door is secure

If you suspect your garage door is not working properly, don't just assume it's due to a power outage or something like that. You should also check:

The springs and cables are not broken (or disconnected)

The tracks are not damaged in any way

That the door isn't bent or twisted

Call in a Professional

You can start by finding a garage door repair company that offers 24/7 service and free quotes. If you have an emergency, you'll want to know that someone will be there for you at any time of the day or night.

A reliable garage door repair company will also have technicians who are thoroughly trained in all aspects of their craft. They should be able to give you repair options and costs, so that when they arrive onsite, they can get right down to work assessing what needs repairing and how best to go about fixing it.

Takeaway:

The takeaway from this article is simple: if your garage door is broken, don't try to fix it yourself. While there are some things you can do to try and get it back up and running, the best thing to do is call a professional. They have all the right tools at their disposal, making them more likely to be successful than you would be on your own.

Just remember, no matter how frustrating a garage door crash may be, there’s always a solution. You just have to know how to find it! Keep these tips in mind when dealing with your own garage door problems and you’ll be able to handle any situation with ease.

If you're in need of a garage Crashed door Service & repair, WI Garage Door is ready to help. We are one of the leading garage door companies in Howard, Wisconsin. Our expert mechanics can fix any issue and get your garage doors working like new again! We offer same-day service, free quotes, and same price estimates over the phone so you don't have to worry about paying more than expected. Call us today for fast, professional garage door service!

WI Garage Door Howard, Wisconsin 54313 (920)-489-5820 https://wigaragedoorsrepair.com/

[esteponajabonesecologicos]

Exterior Siding An illustration of a medium-sized one-story, brown, mixed-siding exterior home design with a shingle roof is in the mountain style.

[youknowyourefromsingaporewhen]

Garage - large farmhouse attached three-car garage idea

[ghostwatchpublishing]

Vinyl - Exterior An illustration of a sizable, three-story, traditional yellow vinyl home with a shingle roof

[nanni-art]

Exterior Siding An illustration of a medium-sized one-story, brown, mixed-siding exterior home design with a shingle roof is in the mountain style.

[trivialbob]

I just heard from Sheila. Today she towed our trailer to Wisconsin by herself and got it set up. She didn't call me for any help. Not that she isn't capable, but I usually drove and did the outside setup while she took care of the inside. I still have to work the rest of the week. The dogs and I will join her on the weekend.

We decided to get a seasonal RV spot. It won't cost much more than we've been paying at a local storage place. Towing every other weekend was starting to feel like a chore, so we're trying this for a year. Now either or both of us can take the car or motorcycles and get away for a few days. The campground has a pool and lodge. It's also near a town we like and where we know the owners of a bar.

Sometime after Sheila left one of our garage door springs broke. I was home all day and didn't hear it happen. When a spring broke a few years ago it sounded like someone fired a rifle inside the garage (I was inside the house, upstairs, when that happened).

I couldn't remember who fixed it last time so I looked up the nearest company. They have of good reviews, and I like to support local businesses, so the choice was easy. Bonus points for ease of scheduling. I was able to choose 9:00 AM tomorrow. I was expecting to have to wait a few days.

[hometoursandotherstuff]

Here’s a 1901 church that has been uniquely converted to a home. It has 2bds. & 2baths, is in Lake Mills, Wisconsin and priced at $795K. 

Check out the bell tower, although the bell seems to be missing.

They didn’t leave the main area open so you could see the original cathedral ceiling, which is disappointing. 

This is different, too- notice how deeply recessed the windows are. 

The stepdown looks like it may be original and the columns might be original also.

If I didn’t know that I was in a church, I would never guess. All of these walls were constructed and wallpapered. 

The kitchen is huge, and look at the size of the drainboard sink.

The large island has doors that look like they came from old ice boxes. The floor looks original, but I can’t be sure.

Here’s a small dining room off the kitchen.

Lots of storage. 

This is a more formal dining area.

The main bd. is large enough for a sitting area.

Very large bath. I wonder if those mantel pieces are original to the church.

The 2nd, smaller bath is so cute.

Very nice laundry room.

A pretty hallway leads to back stairs that lead to the 2nd fl. 

Ah, here it is- the cathedral ceiling is on the 2nd fl. It looks like the owner is running a used furniture shop up here, though. This is so beautiful, I would make it part of the living area.

The upper part of the original altar. This is definitely a thrift store.

This is a beautiful outdoor area. I think that door leads into another living area.

This is the 2nd bd.

It has a sauna, too.

And, there’s also a nice workshop.

Plus, it has a nice 2 car garage.

https://www.redfin.com/WI/Lake-Mills/506-N-Main-St-53551/home/57586343

[those70scomics]

Fictober Day 23: "we can fix this, I know we can"

That '70s Show Fanfiction

Red should'be known better than recruiting the kettlehead to help with his project. Rigging a pneumatic device to open his Toyota's hood "will be a piece of cake," Kelso said. "I can even make it roar." But now they were in Red's garage with a car whose hood belched smoke and refused to open.

"We can fix this. I know we can," Kelso said and disconnected the pneumatic pump from the Toyota. "It'll just take some thinking."

Great. Kelso needed to think. That had never gone well.

But he pulled on his safety latex gloves, pried open the hood, and waved away the smoke. "Well, here's your problem." He plucked out a chunk of dry ice from the car. "How'd this get in here?"

Red was glad he'd chosen to wear a turtleneck sweater. He was flushing, and his neck often gave him away. "Squirrels."

"Squirrels?"

"Wisconsin Autumn squirrels. Don't tell me you've never heard of them." Red cleared his throat. "Their paws are immune to cold temperatures."

Kelso placed the dry ice in a corner of the garage. "Where would they get this from, though?"

"Trees. Stored ... oh, hell. I did it. Wanted to test if it would work."

"Oh, it worked. It froze your car and the pneumatic pump." Kelso laughed and pointed at him. "Whose the kettlehead now? Burn!"

Red was burning. He'd take off his sweater if it wouldn't reveal his embarrassment. He wasn't that old. He hadn't become senile, but he his former, childless impulsivity influenced him once in a while.

"The damage doesn't look too bad. Let everything air out. Pour hot water over the dry ice in the backyard. After dinner, we should be good to go."

"I didn't mean to keep you from your family this long on a Monday night." Red's voice was gravelly. He'd finally quit seeing Kelso as that teenager who'd glued himself to Red's fridge. Or as the idiot he'd locked in this very garage for dating his daughter. He still had the monkey wrench he'd used as an unspoken threat. "When did you get a brain?"

Kelso sat on a work stool. "1985, I think. When I graduated from technical school."

Red laughed quietly. Kelso needed to have a brain to go to technical school at all. The glimmer of his genius with computers first showed itself way back in 1976, Christmas Eve. "I'm glad you grew up, son.'

He clasped Kelso's shoulder, and Kelso leapt off the stool like Red had thrown the first punch in a boxing match.

"For Pete's sake, I'm not gonna hit you. I'm complimenting you."

"Sorry. I'm not used to that ... from you."

"And I'm not used to you having common sense."

Kelso smiled and waved dismissively. "Oh, don't worry about that. I don't have a lot."

He seemed to believe that trait was a good thing, but Red didn't argue. He followed Kelso, who carried the dry ice, into the backyard. Kelso left the dry ice there, where white smoke rose from it.

"We should probably take care of that before we eat," Kelso said. "But totally use dry ice during your Halloween party out here. Just not in your car."

"Yeah. Got it."

They entered the house through the patio door. Kitty was busy cooking dinner in the kitchen, and Red kissed her on the cheek. Then he filled a large pot with hot water. Kelso helped him carry it to the backyard.

"Look away while we dump this thing," Red said. "Should've worn my safety goggles."

"We still can. Let's put this down on the grass."

They did as Kelso said, placed the pot of water on the ground and went to Red's garage. Red found two pairs of his safety goggles and passed one to Kelso.

"What's it like raising two kids?"

Red's hands froze on his safety goggles' elastic strap. "We'll talk about it at dinner."

"Cool."

Together, they returned to the backyard and melted the dry ice. Within the hiss and smoke, Red marveled at how much could change in ten years. Two of his kids were going to give him grandkids. Kettlehead had become smart -- smarter -- and wiser. And Red no longer viewed life as a misery to get through until the peace of death. He enjoyed simple pleasures, like creating a monster car for Halloween, and he had a hell of a lot more to look forward to.

Better to start life at a low point, survive two wars, a recession that could've cost his family their house, and suffer a moderate heart attack and end up here, now, in his mid-sixties as a happy and healthy man than start off well and lose every hope, every joy.

He wouldn't change any of it, except for selling his Corvette. For a pregnancy that wasn't a pregnancy but his wife's menopause. But a man couldn't have everything.

[vid-writes]

Godslayer Chronicles Ch. 3

This story will not contain any romance or sex but it does contain violence so reader discretion is advised!

A week later, the group found themselves in Madison, Wisconsin. For the first time since the group first got together, they stayed in a building with the outermost four walls still fully intact. There was only one hole in the roof, and the group chose to pretend that the master bedroom, with the clawfoot tub and converted hand-pumped faucet for it, didn't exist. Emalia and Petra had curled up in the room that appeared to be a library with a couple of books.

"Oh, well, that's very descriptive," Petra whispered as she blushed and held the book closer. Her eyes were flitting across the page faster than Emalia had ever seen. Emalia chuckled as she continued to read her mystery novel. She had read her fair share of romance novels but never as enthusiastically as Petra currently was.

"Lunch is ready, and then we need to move on further south around these Great Lakes," Jalinda announced as she popped into the little library.

"I'm just glad we found that gas-powered bike capable of pulling the bigger wagon. Now we can take on another couple of small wagons since we have more free bikes," Petra said as she stretched up from her chair.

"And a few gallons of gas in that gas can," Emalia added as they headed for the kitchen.

"Well, I'm grateful that the stove was gas-powered on a localized tank with plenty of extras in the garage," Jalinda smiled back at Emalia and Petra.

"Thank God for doomsday preppers," Anton called from the dining room.

Breakfast was a mixture of random scrambled bird eggs, Spam, and bread that Petra made. Usually, they only had bird eggs and bread, but there must have been more Spam here than they initially thought. As if reading Emalia's mind, Anton spoke up around a mouthful of his food.

"We found a whole extra pantry full of Spam that lasts another three years. We took all the food, and the Spam filled half the small wagon, so thankfully, Micha could ride his bike again." They all grimaced as food fell out of Anton's mouth. He just used the bread to shovel it right back into his mouth.

"I swear you're worse than a cow when you eat," Jalinda groaned as more food fell out of Anton's mouth.

He laughed.

"Oh, come on, we know only Petra grew up on a farm." Anton swallowed his mouthful of food and groaned with delight. Everyone at the table threw their used napkins at him.

Once the group had cleared away breakfast, they started to pack up the supplies they hadn't packed yet. In Emalia's case, this meant packing all the new clothes she found in one of the rooms here. It looked like they had belonged to a teenager going through a rebellious phase, but since Emalia's body looked like a stick, she took most of the shirts and a few pairs of loose pajama pants. As for the jeans that she chose to leave behind, they couldn't get up and over her one asset. Her ass.

With her bags packed and strapped to her bike, Emalia turned to her and the rest of her friends to load up stuff. Anton and Chaylen were arguing over who got to ride the gas-powered bicycle. Micha loaded the rest of the gas for the bike into the little wagon. Petra held up a piece of plywood between the gas and the Spam so the food didn't get contaminated. Only Jalinda was still going between the house and outside to bring out the rest of their stuff. Emalia hurried over to move the stuff Jalinda was piling at the end of the stairs over to the carts and the respective bikes they belonged to.

"Thanks, Emalia. I thought I would have to yell at Anton and my brother to stop fighting over a bike that goes fast and start helping me pack up stuff," Jalinda huffed as she pulled the door behind her.

"I don't know why they're fighting over it. Even before Anton started helping him, Chaylen could have done it alone on regular bikes. Now, with an engine to help him? Chaylen is built for this role, literally. He is how my great-grandma used to say, 'built like a shit brickhouse.' He's buff as hell. I've spent several night watches with Chaylen before all he does is read or exercise. If he were shorter and dumber, he'd remind me more of this character from an anime my great-grandma used to show me when I was younger. It was from a show about magic where the main kid wanted to become Wizard King to bone a nun or something. I don't know. That's all I remember since I was six the last time she showed it to me before the cancer claimed her." Emalia finished helping Jalinda distribute the rest of the bags and boxes as she spoke. Chaylen and Anton finally stopped arguing right as the girls and Micha wrapped up doing all of the heavy lifting.

Chaylen straddled the gas-powered bike with a smug look on his face.

Emalia giggled to herself as she straddled her bike and rested one foot on the pedal. She watched as her friends climbed on their bikes and got caught up in her thoughts. She was thinking about how she met them but mainly about the day they had all found Chaylen.

When Jalinda stumbled into their camp half blind from being attacked by some creatures that looked like they were straight out of a Resident Evil game, according to Jalinda's description, Chaylen hadn't been with her. A group of the pus pocket-covered, one-eye-having, toad-looking things had kidnapped Chaylen. Getting Jalinda to rest long enough to heal had taken a lot of convincing and a rotating guard outside of her tent. When she had told the group that the other two people Jalinda and her brother had been with were eaten by these creatures, Anton and Piper convinced her that if they were going to eat Chaylen, it wouldn't be anytime soon. Piper had lost her whole family to a group of these creatures and barely managed to escape their nest before they tried to feed on her two weeks later.

"Hey, what should we do with Chaylen's old bike?" Anton's voice ripped Emalia from the past and back to the present.

"Just leave it here," Micha grunted as he pushed his bike up the driveway by hand.

"Yeah, but if it gets left here, no one will probably ever use it," Anton challenged.

"Better for it to rust out inside of some abandoned building than to add more weight to our already increased load," Petra called out as she lounged on her bike.

Emalia would never understand how the twenty-three-year-old managed to lay halfway down on her bike loaded with saddlebags full and not fall over. She had even asked Petra once but merely winked at Emalia and refused to answer.

They got about a mile down the road before Emalia got lost in thought again. This time, she was thinking about the night her family died. The night that the sky split open and earthquakes rocked the whole planet, Emalia had a mom, dad, sister, and brother. She was the middle child of the bunch. They all survived for three years before the god Emalia had a vendetta against came along. She had been cold, cynical, and calculating. Her abilities included, but were not limited to, freezing people to death. The night the white-haired, white-eyed, humanoid, female-looking individual was a night Emalia would never forget. Emalia had been sound asleep when the first wave of the attack on her town had begun.

"Hey, look at that," someone said, and Emalia snapped out of her thoughts. She looked up to see Anton pointing at the sky.

The clear blue daytime sky upon which a comet was blazing across. Only the comet seemed to be coming closer to Earth. As far as Emalia could tell, the burning hunk of space was heading straight for her group.

"Fucking scatter," she screamed as she dove off of her bike. Emalia's feet hit the ground running as the sounds of her friends running faded away from her.

Heat greeted them first as Emalia dove over the concrete highway divider and continued running. Then, the impact the comet made on the highway knocked her flat on her face. Pain flared across her whole face as her ears rang. She rolled over, and everything she saw was glowing orange. Emalia blinked, but the orange tint to the world remained, so she pushed herself into a sitting position.

A fire raged across the highway a few dozen feet behind where her friends had abandoned their stuff. Emalia jumped up as the ringing in her ears faded; she needed to move their stuff before it caught fire, too. Especially since a few cars littered the highway just behind the blazing inferno.

"What in the actual fuck just happened?" Emalia looked behind her as she dragged another bike away from the flames to see Anton righting the gas-powered cycle.

"I don't have a clue, but that needs to move without you starting the engine. There's no telling if there's anything in the air that could cause it to explode," Emalia said as she set aside Petra's bike.

Just as she was about to start trying to move the smaller cart the rest of the group returned from where they had run to.

"We should probably just leave. That felt like some rogue or random attack from a god," Petra offered to no one. Everyone was nodding their agreement when something else happened.

The hunk of space rock split open straight down the middle, almost like it was opening on a seam. A hand shot out from between the rock, and Emalia acted before she could think. Fire still danced in a few patches that seemed to be dying off on their own, but she couldn't care. She raced to the comet as a female with pointed ears climbed out.

Emalia stumbled to a stop as the woman locked eyes with her. Fear rooted her feet to the spot as the strange woman walked towards Emalia. Her skin was leaf-green and covered in white tattoos, her eyes were a darker shade of green, and her red hair reached her waist, even braided. Skin-tight black clothes covered the woman, and a bow was strapped to her back.

"Did it actually work?" Listening to the woman speak reminded Emalia of sleigh bells ringing.

"Did what work?" The question came from behind Emalia. She glanced over her shoulder to see Micha standing just behind her and off to the side. He was gripping his sniper rifle tightly in his hands.

"Is this planet Earth?" The woman asked. She said the word Earth as if she was speaking it for the first time.

"That depends on if you're another wretched god or cryptid," growled Micha.

"I am neither of those things. I am a Nephilim from the planet Odreture. My name is Charamaline, but you can call me Char," the woman explained, yet Emalia understood nothing.

"What are you an alien or something?" Anton asked as he joined Emalia and Micha.

"Are you an idiot or something? I just said I'm a Nephilim. I come from another world that has collided with yours," Char said like it was the most natural thing.

Emalia gaped at her.

Char dusted her hands off on her pants and surveyed the group before her. Each of them, save for Emalia, was grasping a weapon tightly and staring at her like they had just seen a ghost. Given the state of this planet, they very well might have seen them before. Char pulled out a glowing green orb from only God knew where with that skin-tight outfit and started muttering.

"What are you doing?" Emalia asked, wishing she had grabbed her bandolier of knives.

"This orb is magical. Once I've told it my message, I only have to smash it, and my wife back in my home world will receive my words. I only have a small window of opportunity before the spell we used to get me here fades," Char explained. "Now, please save all the rest of your burning questions." She went back to muttering at the orb.

When she went silent again, Char raised the orb above her head and let go. It cascaded to the ground seemingly in slow motion before shattering all over the highway. At the same time, the flames that still burned all went out. At first, nothing happened, but the green smoke started to rise. The smoke caressed Char's cheek before it shot into the sky like weird green reverse lightning.

"I am far too sober for this shit," Chaylen muttered, and Emalia heard Jalinda agree just as quietly.

"Now I will explain everything, but first, I think you guys will want to sit down. The information I have for you is going to blow your mind. And yes, it is also information you might be too sober to fix." Chaylen tensed as Char said this. "If you don't want to do this on this roadway, might I suggest we find someplace to set up camp?"

"No, here is fine. We have camped on the highway before," Micha said.

"Highway," Char experimented with the word. "What is a highway?"

"The road we are on now. It goes up and over most other roadways and usually allows for higher-speed traffic. Also helps semi-trucks get to their destinations without clogging up local streets." Emalia watched as Char's face grew more confused by her explanations.

"It seems we all have a lot to learn." Anton coughed and turned around. "I'm getting the weed."

"Fucking finally," Chaylen commented as he followed after Anton. Emalia turned to look at Micha only to find him watching the strange woman named Charamaline. None of them knew how to react to her, but since she wasn't attacking them, they would listen.

After all, anything that had wanted them dead this far into the apocalypse hadn't bothered with psychological warfare. Those creatures had attacked immediately, and most weren't even capable of human speech, let alone English.

Or buy me a coffee <3

[kibblemode]

weird fucking dream i had under a cut bc its long lol

so like me and my sister were visiting my grandparents in wisconsin but when we got to their house they werent there, even tho there were like 5 or so cars in their driveway including theirs. cal went in the house while i hung out outside taking pictures. for reference this is what my grandparents yard looks like

the version in my dream was like fucked up and evil. instead of the fence there was like an old wooden shelf with like a bunch of gross rusty chains hanging from the top, and the garage was like actively rotting (i mean its like that irl but not nearly as bad) and it was a weird gross brown instead of red. instead of a window on the 2nd story in the garage there was just a tiny door that i was filming for some reason. there was like obviously something Wrong abt it but idk what it was lol. it was really shitty and cloudy out so it was pretty dark? then its like a hard cut to me and cal in the house just kinda watching tv, i think it was probably a few hours later bc it was night at that point. we were just kinda chilling and not doing much? the only notable thing was that there was like a fuck ton of weird medication in the bathroom and the tv was up really loud, + my grandparents still werent home. i could kinda tell something was Very Very Wrong but nobody ever acknowledged it. after a while one of my uncles showed up at the house, i think he needed to borrow something? calvin was in the kitchen helping him find whatever he wanted, i turned the tv down while they were talking bc it was Loud. for whatever reason my uncle was acting like literally the opposite of how he is irl and it was like really fucking bizarre. literally acting like a character in a david lynch movie or some shit, really erratic and strange but we acted like it was normal. i was sitting on the couch near the stairs when my uncle walked into the livingroom, i just kinda looked at him and he gave me a horrified look like he was looking at a dead body or whatever. literally the second he looked at me hail britannia played so loud it woke me up and i woke up biting my lip so hard it was bleeding

[wytfut]

A huge hole is forming

I've been in the Excelsior Henderson game since pretty much the beginning. Around 1999. Although I didn't buy/own one until 2001.

The community although small is very strong and supports pretty much each of the members some how some way. My youtube channel is an example (which is not exactly successful). The club is another. Friendships of course. Inner networking. AND..... Atlantic EH.

Jamie and Marty Jones started Atlantic EH in Elkton Virginia shortly after the factory closed its doors. Jamie and Gary (Jumper) Houk both started buying parts off shelves from dealerships all across the right coast that were getting out of the EH business. With their own money no less. ....

Jamie, is a well experienced mechanic. European sports cars mechanic, Diesel mechanic, and heavy equipment mechanic. I'm going to say he probably had quite a few years working on motorcycles also before then.

Their business was a huge gamble. Only so many customers out there..... the number was way below 2000. At the time it wasn't an immediate success, but did well, as the east coast owners supported them whole heartily. Jamie working out of the attached 2 stall garage of their home.

Here in the flatlands.... I had heard of them... but didn't know much other than that. We were dealing 99% with Bobby (Xman) Baldwin, and a touch with John Jones in Minnesota.

Basically thru attrition, we started dealing with Atlantic EH, and never looked back.

Jamie/Marty made another huge step, an attached shop, virtually doubling the square footage of their home. Something that can handle many X's at one time. Jamie thought this shop out well, and it worked.

In all the years I connected with them, Jamie was never ever less than 6 X's in or around his shop waiting for his soft touch. He had no need for work. They didn't need to advertise, as the bikes rolled in.

They held annual parties at their home for ALL of their customers. I did get to make one of those, and never felt so welcomed by so many strangers.

It was a promise that when you called to order parts or ask questions, the phone call was going to be close to an hour every time. Many times more so. They wanted to know the weather, hows the family, hows your X, "are you doing good?".... If Jamie didn't have time to talk, you could email him. He'd do email every Sunday, with replies.

I had an issue with my X, that needed some special order parts out of Las Vegas.... that were expensive. Marty just sent them to me. Me being confused called her immediately to cipher what was going on. She told me, use what I needed of these parts, which she'd bill me, and send the rest back.... no charge. (time sert kit). WHAT?

I'm guessing by now, that all readers are picking up, I cannot praise these fine people enough, for everything they have done for our community. You are correct... I could write anecdotes for pages. ..

...............

Jamie found out last week.... he's pretty much full of cancer. Yes its terminal. The time line they are giving him is sooooooooo short. I'm besides myself, as there is nothing I can do for them from here. I have some good X friends that are much closer and doing everything they can to make this a smooth process.

Marty before this.... has been having her own personal battle with Alzhiemers, and Jamie has committed himself to helping her, and working on X's in between. Jamie officially retired as the "official" Super X mechanic 2 summers ago in the Wisconsin Dells.

And this huge hole is forming within our community. There will be other heros within our group, no doubt. But none will be equal to our first 25 years of the Jones.

Jamie.... I hope you get to read this. I can't get anymore real than this. And I stand by all of this. Gods speed my friend!!

[thatseventiesbitch]

Can you do something like Donna meeting by accident with Casey Kelso, I'm sure it will be awkward haha ​​especially after Jay and Leia dated and since Casey is Jay's uncle obviously he's going to have to make a joke about it. A while ago you made a publication of your wishes for s2 of T9S where you said that you would want to see all the Kelsos together, and well it only came to mind lol, ty btw 💌

Thanks for the ask! Prompt Ask Game

Donna stuck her head out the Forman's patio door, craning her neck around to see if anyone was peeking out from the garage or one of the windows. When she didn't see anyone, she slipped outside, closed the sliding door ever so carefully behind her, and slid around the corner just out of sight. Satisfied that she was hidden from view by the shrubbery, Donna finally exhaled. Her breath puffed out in front of her like a cloud from the icy cold, but she didn't seem to mind.

She loved her in-laws, and spending time with Leia in the house she and Eric had grown up in. Her family was great, she repeated to herself. But sometimes she just wanted to get in a car and run 'em all over.

Taking one more look to make sure no one was watching, Donna took a cigarette and a lighter from her coat pocket. She yanked her gloves off and she'd just lit it and taken the first delicious drag when she heard a familiar drawl.

"Well if it isn't Pinciotti!"

Only one person had ever called her that, and she whirled around to see - sure enough - Casey Kelso standing on the Forman's patio grinning at her.

"Casey?" she said in disbelief, the cigarette still burning in her hand.

"Yeah it's been a minute," he agreed, not missing a beat in his typical suave manner.

"What are you doing here?" Donna shook her head and put out the cigarette against the side of the house.

"Ah, I'm pickin' up my nephew," Casey jerked his thumb towards the driveway where a red sportscar, not very conducive to the icy Wisconsin winter, was parked. "Yeah I'm drivin' him over to Mom's. Christmas Eve, ya know?"

Donna nodded, like she knew.

"But I, ah. Have time to give you a spin," Casey offered, giving her the sexy once over even though she wore a thick wool winter coat. "If you wanted, Pinciotti." He leaned forward onto his elbows on the railing, leering at her, and Donna saw a glimpse of the handsome, 20-year-old womanizer he'd been in his hallowed, sunken face.

"Actually it's Forman now." Donna smirked, and flashed her left hand at him, showing her wedding band.

"No shit?" Casey chuckled, impressed. "Congrats."

Donna bobbed her head to the side. "It was sixteen years ago. But thanks," she relented, smiling.

Casey jutted his chin towards the cigarette she'd tucked back in her pocket, the cocky grin she'd once been so enamored with stretching across his face. "So whatcha doing out here?" he asked.

Donna blushed. She knew she'd been found out, and she lifted the cigarette to her lips again and wordlessly lit it. Casey continued to grin. "I'm trying to quit," Donna explained around a long drag. She coughed lightly. "Eric hates it and Leia doesn't know." She glanced behind her shoulder nervously. "We're trying to keep it that way."

"Kitchen's empty," he assured her. Casey gestured for the cigarette, and she passed it to him. He took a drag too before passing it back.

"You have kids?" He spoke around the plume of smoke he exhaled, with the practiced ease of a regular smoker. "That's nice."

"Yeah, one," Donna smiled. "My daughter Leia."

Casey gave her a wide smile. "Oh I know about Leia." He jutted his chin towards the house. "Jay likes her a lot." He lifted his eyebrows and was about to say something else, but Donna interrupted him.

"Don't say anything gross. Okay? She's sixteen."

Casey held his hands up in protest. "Nah." He gestured for the cigarette again, and Donna gave it to him.

"Leia likes Jay a lot, too," Donna said quietly. "It kind of scares me." She glanced at Casey, and then quickly glanced away again.

"Scare ya." Casey grinned and handed it back to her. Donna inhaled deeply and the smoke burned her lungs. "Why's that?"

She shrugged.

"You're somethin' else, Pinciotti."

"Forman," she reminded him, but she was grinning too.

He put his hands up, like he'd forgotten.

"Well," Casey scuffed at some ice on the patio with the toe of his boot. "Jay's a good kid. I can tell ya that. He's like - smart and shit." He cleared his throat. "And nice."

Donna studied him. It was sweet - he was genuinely proud of his nephew.

"Pretty un-Kelso like," Donna teased.

"Hey," Casey protested, his eyes snapping to hers. "Hey now."

Now Donna was the one who laughed and put her hands up in mock apology. Her cigarette was gone, and she'd slipped the lighter back in her pocket. Just in the nick of time, because seconds later Jay opened the sliding door and joined them on the patio.

"Uncle Casey?" He exclaimed. "Cool! You're driving me in the Firebird?!"

"That's right, man." Casey high-fived him, and Jay dashed for the passenger's seat. Donna chuckled. Casey Kelso was definitely the coolest uncle around.

[sohannabarberaesque]

Postcards from Snagglepuss

Time to get the motorhome back up and ready

WISCONSIN DELLS, WI: "Getting marooned at the Sand Bar"--something of a coy slogan for a tourist-town bar bound to attract as much locals as tourists, and bound to recall in Crazy Claws' mind the time he was driving the Original Wisconsin Ducks tour, and pulled off a corny number about "crossing the [sand] bar" entering Dell Creek off the Wisconsin River heading towards Lake Delton. "Which I meant as a coy little plug," CC was quick to add, "in the spirit of the Ducks' corny narration."

"Explaining, no doubt, its popularity," Huckleberry Hound was quick to add.

"Is it any wonder that the Ducks have this 'must-see' sort of charm even before the waterparks came along?" was how Crazy Claws replied as all three of us were having the Sand Bar's celebrated steakburgers for lunch.

"Oh, and just as reminder, CC," remarked I, "we were going to get our motorhome out of storage after all this time--"

"Diving with Peter Potamus and crew; I couldn't help but resist just how irresistable the diving experience can get with such a likable-looking hippo." (Brief pause) "And believe you me, the dive videos he shared with me couldn't help but be IRRESISTABLY ADDICTING ... especially wearing just yourself in a coral reef off the Virgin Islands and trying not to look embarrassed!"

At any rate, it came down to the business at hand: Getting the motorhome out of storage, getting rid of any storage-related smells (such as mothballs) and getting such in readiness for the summer ahead. "Starting, I'll have you know," Huck remarked, "Easter Sunday as guests of the Cattanooga Cats in Gatlinburg."

"And let me guess," Crazy Claws asked, "the Easter Parade."

"Which the feline quartet who never purr or meow," remarked I, "will be laying on. Literally impromptu, mainly in some of the back alleys of downtown Gatlinburg and the Parkway towards the National Park Entrance ... and returning to Cattanooga Klatsche."

"Their coffeehouse," Crazy Claws chimed in. "I thought I knew as much."

It took a modest little drive through wet and borderline slushy streets of Wisconsin Dells to find the storage shed where our motorhome was in storage since fall, as turned out to be on the south side in a somewhat ratty-looking metal pole building some yokel hath for the sake of vehicular and camper storage over the winter, and it took about ten minutes to get the manager of the storage building over to assist in unlocking and reclaiming the motorhome. After having to endure quite the garage-in-winter smell and getting some paperwork out of the way, the motorhome--that which we now share these adventures moving forward since last spring--was ours again.

But not without the inevitable smell of mothballs, bound to require some airing out just to make it sane enough to drive in. After an hour and a half or so of having to open the doors of the motorhome in a municipal parking lot just to air things out, as well as get some initial provisions for a couple days' on the road--not to mention air freshener simulating a "new car" smell, and the obvious refuelling with diesel fuel accompanied by the legendary Kwik Trip chicken tenders--

"Why not stay a couple days with me?" was how Crazy Claws parsed it. "Then, we could be on our way ... but not before I find some comfort with a lady bobcat like myself."

"I take it that it's mating season with your kind," Huckleberry Hound remarked.

"How did you come to that conclusion?" Crazy Claws added.

*************

@warnerbrosentertainment @ultrakeencollectionbreadfan @iheartgod175 @jellystone-enjoyer @funtasticworld @archive-archives @screamingtoosoftly @thebigdingle @themineralyoucrave @thylordshipofbutts @warnerbros-blog1 @theweekenddigest @groovybribri @zodiacfan32 @indigo-corvus @warnerbrosent-blog

[thenightlymirror]

So, for anyone paying attention to narrative, a lot has happened in the last week.

I was going to start on Tuesday, but then remembered that quite a lot happened on Monday too. So, Friday, I suppose.

At some point Friday, after days of the superintendent telling me that he would get to my dozens of foundation requests and work orders sometime next week, I learned in the last hour that he was actually going on vacation. Which enraged me. I'm an idiot. They spent the week after Memorial Day recovering. The next week saw the GM off sick almost the entire week, while I sort of ran things.

I started Monday by explaining to the GM that nothing has been for our State of Emergency Shithole Cemetery in two weeks, even when I tried to plan ahead for the next delivery which was coming very soon. Welp.

A few minutes later, I heard her addressing the grounds crew so, stood up from my desk and crashed the meeting. These are our priorities until I receive the granite manifest. This marker needs to be done today. These, when there's time. Two weeks ago I cared about these. Fuck it. I'll be by to look for paperwork in the garage.

I found the garage breakroom table covered in unfinished stacks of my work orders, old food, and a thin, even layer of mouse shit. Buck, how do you feel about being made to eat your meals on rat shit?

"I think it's a crime."

Correct.

After collecting my papers and taking lots of photos, I talked to Buck about his various grievances. He asked me if I was a socialist. "At least," I said.

I decided to go back to the GM and confront her about the rat shit. She explained that she bleached that table a month ago, but the boys leave the door open, and even when the exterminator visits twice a month, there's nothing they can do. Also. Buck was caught feeding the mice water.

Hm.

Well, I mean, wouldn't you? Honestly. Who among us if forced to live in rat shit would not feed the miserable poisoned rats? Since you're essentially in the same boat, all about to be fired, thrown out on your asses. Murdered.

Tuesday, grounds continued get more work done. The manifest arrived. I made the No. #2 a packet with the four foundations that were absolutely necessary by next week. Andrew invited me out to trivia later than night, and I spent the rest of the day feeling tired and headachy and convinced that if I didn't go, I'd probably be alone for the rest of my short life.

So I went. It was pretty good. Most of the table seemed a little snooty, and also worried about something I wasn't a party to. Nervous. They're pretty serious about it all. We got second place in the end. I was really good at naming movies just by single frames. I also got the two other Latin American countries that use the American Dollar correct, but they weren't very confident about it. Neither was I, really.

Afterward, me and Andrew went to a bar and a girl there talked to us, got our numbers. I assumed Andrew went home with her. Maybe he did. He was discreet about it, if he did. She liked us, and we hit our stride as two (likely) bisexuals performing as horny straight men for our own amusement. It was a lot of fun.

The next day Buck and I exchanged numbers and made plans to hang out at his place, smoke weed, listen to Norwegian black metal, and watch old Incredible Hulk episodes. Nice.

There was this whole thing about going to Wisconsin to pick up some vases for a customer. The GM wanted to go. Sandra also happened to be going on the same day. I made a million calls and now it was just me picking it all up for everybody. No Spotted Cow. No Cheese Castle. Solamente Cox.

I woke up an hour early to lay in bed and feel utterly convinced I wanted to die. Something was up, and my brain turned in on itself instinctively. Always embarrassment, humiliation. Clarity. Brutal clarity. I got up. Rushed a day's work in three hours. Drove to my old cemetery where Sandra ran to give me a hug and pointed to the breakroom where Carlene was eating lunch. Something was definitely weird with Carls. Seemed miffed. I avoided immediately attacking Harper and talked logistics with Carlene by repeating every sentence she said until she noticed.

I entered the office to pick up the keys, and asked Harper how she was. I was pretty clear. She just kept working, didn't even look up. I just shrugged. Sandra gave me the eyes like, Holy Shit Dude, and I turned to go, but Carlene intervened like "HARPER!" and she finally looked up, so I asked her gently, Harper, what's up. How's it going, and she looked embarrassed and talked for a few minutes. Totally normal.

You could not convince me for the next four hours that is what happened. I only remembered my guts falling out on the floor in front of everyone. Hahaha. Such a sensitive baby.

Everyone at my place went on and on about how they might give me a tour, and I'd get to meet the owner and nobody there gave a shit. They just passed me through like corn. Not that they were mean in the slightest. I don't know what I expected.

I got back to the old cemetery. The new counselor-at-large was there and I said hello and she looked right fucking through me. Haha I was not quiet. She just sucks. That's fine.

I got in the office and Sandra was stuck in an email. I was like, What the hell are you doing? Can't say. Ok lol. "What the hell is wrong with everyone today?"

"I was about to say that myself," Harper says. "People standing in doorways all day." Fucking body snatchers. Then Margie caught me. Harper made the "You did this to yourself by being nice to her, and I am getting the hell out of here" face. Have a nice weekend!

I pull out of my parking space in my own car again, and rip off the front bumper. The counselors come out to laugh and Sandra clandestinely takes photographs with her phone. We all laugh for a while while no one gets to leave the parking lot, and I go straight home to Winnetka with the vases in my car.

What else?

My trainer asked if I went to the Cheese Castle. No. I was depressed. She shoots into my dms to ask me why I'm depressed. I'm fine. Just woke up this way. My brain's just broke.

I woke up this morning sadder than ever. As I got in the car, my old trainer called me and said that she got a new job. The office manager position she always wanted. Fuck all the rest. I said thank god you did something, or else I was going to have to. Congrats. She said not to tell anyone, and to get out of this place as soon as I can.

I went to work and got on the golf cart and rode around for a while, took it up to the secret lake. Hiked around. Scared some birds. Took the cart off-roading down a steep hill convinced I was going to flip myself.

Later, rushing through work, I got another call. Sandra. She's leaving. Got a job with the city. Which means. Her position will be open. I jumped out of my seat and started punching the air. Holy shit. Suddenly the day flowed right over. Not only would this whole nightmare end, I'd get the position I wanted in the first place. The position I wanted like... years from now. Gene's place. I wouldn't have to be miserable. I still doubt it will actually happen. But it might. I might just be happy. Over in the admin office between Harper and Carl. Easy.

[sweetbuckybarnes]

The Summers that Made Us: 1996

Summary: The summer of 1996, secrets are exposed and friendships crumble.

Pairings: Jay Kelso and Leia Forman

Main Masterlist | Jay + Leia Masterlist

It was early June of 1996, and Leia had finished her Sophomore Year in High School. She was heading back to Point Place, Wisconsin. To spend another summer with her grandparents.

As well as Gwen, Ozzie, Nikki, Nate and Jay. Just at the thought of the two boys, both her head and heart were very confused. Without a shadow of a doubt, Leia knew how she felt about Jay. Her heart fluttering all the time since the moment she met him.

However, after the emotional talk with Nate - she honestly doesn't know how she feels about him...

But, she's only 15! There was no way she was expected to know exactly how she feels about both boys. Well, she's halfway there.

When her parent's car pulled up in the driveway of 416 Marie Drive - stood there waiting for them was her grandparents (even her grandfather, who had pulled himself away from his chair and one of his newspapers), Gwen, Ozzie, Nikki, Nate and Jay.

A sign hung over the garage, proudly displaying the homemade sign 'Welcome home, Leia!'

The sound of her grandmother's happy chattering could be heard through the closed windows.

As soon as Leia opened the door, her grandma's voice got louder. "My grandbaby! Leia!" There was no stopping the incoming hug from Kitty Forman.

Red wasn't far behind her, happy to see his granddaughter again - but her stupid friends would be hanging around in their basement like her father and his stupid friends were doing back in the 70s. Whatever his son was doing in that basement, his granddaughter was probably doing the same thing. But, Leia wasn't his daughter.

Gwen was quick to follow, almost smothering Leia the same way her grandma did. Repeatedly saying how much she missed her.

Nikki and Nate hugged her, and Ozzie smiled at her - Jay and Leia looked at each for a second before Jay reached over and pulled her into a hug. Nikki raised her eyebrows in surprise - having heard the things Jay's dad had said to him over the years they grew up together.

- 3 weeks later -

The gang were high, they did this usually twice a week. Gwen and Leia were staring at the ceiling as the pair contemplated their lives.

Everything was going swimmingly until Nate mentioned his almost kiss with Leia.

"What?" which came from both Nikki and Jay.

"Leia?" Jay said, pulling the recently minted 16-year-old away from the seemingly amusing ceiling. She looked at the older boy who made out with her the evening of her 16th birthday. "Did you almost kiss Nate last summer?"

Leia blinked a few times. "Huh?"

Jay walked over to the sofa where Gwen and Leia were. "Please, Leia, tell me? Did you nearly kiss Nate last summer?"

The group was silent, save for Ozzie munching on his pretzels. "Yes,” was the very quiet voice from Leia. But it was heard.

"On my God," Jay muttered, getting up from the floor and leaving the basement.

That was the last time Leia saw Jay that summer.

But, it wasn't the last time Jay saw Leia.

It was Leia's last day in Point Place, by the time Jay woke up, Leia's parents had arrived and they were nearly completely packed up.

"Jay! You're going to be late! It's Leia's last day!" came the voice of Jay's mother, Jackie Burkhart-Kelso.

Jay sat up and looked at the alarm clock. He had 15 minutes to get dressed and do something with his hair - before going and saying goodbye to Leia for another year. He has spent the last 4 weeks thinking everything over that they had said and done both last summer and this summer.

Sure, Leia wasn't his first girlfriend (she wasn't even his first kiss!) but she was the first girl who had ever made a difference in his life.

He didn't ever want to lose something so special in his life.

By the time Jay got to the Forman's home, thanks to the ride his mother gave him when he was getting too panicked to drive. It was too late.

Leia was gone, as her parents' car turned the corner. Taking her back to Chicago, further away from him.

"No," he said quietly, turning around on the spot, his hands going into his hair.

He never got to say goodbye.

"Oh, Jay, honey," Mrs. Forman cooed, reaching over to hug the troubled teen. "Here," she says, holding out an envelope. "Leia wanted me to give you this. "In case..."

He knew what she meant, in case he didn't make it.

[oldmke]

Back in the early 1890s the residential area near what is now N. 12th st. and W. Wisconsin av. was growing rapidly, and it was decided that the area needed a school to meet the needs of Catholic youth. So, through the efforts of Mr. and Mrs. Walter Johnston, the residence of Dr. Nicholas Senn at 12th and Cedar was purchased in 1892 as an ideal site for the school which was to be called Holy Angels academy. The first floor accommodated a chapel, large study room, music room and two recitation rooms where many a young lady bit her lip or twirled a pigtail as she recited her daily lessons. In the beginning the first grade class was co-educational, Hugo Best, Walter Johnston, Florian Flanner and Alvin Tighe being among the pupils, but from 1893 on only girls have studied there. On the advice of Father J. J. Foley, of Gesu Church, a tuition of $3 a month was charged, quite a sum for those days. The enrollment increased so rapidly that by 1897 the old Senn house was too small and ground was broken for a new building, seen at the left. Until 1922 first through 12th grade students learned their lessons in these buildings, but then it became necessary to limit the enrollment to high school students only. In the summer of 1926, the old Senn house was wrecked to make way for a new building and the art, music, vocal and expression departments took up temporary quarters in the Fuerstein garage next door. Then on Jan. 1, 1928, the present Holy Angels High School building was dedicated. (Picture courtesy of Mrs. Alice E. Fredrick, 2928 W. Wright st. and information from the local history collection of the Milwaukee public library.)