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dryoutrestore · 4 months
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Professional Mold Testing Services in GA - Dry Out Restore
Ensure a safe and healthy living environment with Dry Out Restore's professional mold testing services in Georgia. Our expert team uses advanced techniques to detect and identify mold, providing comprehensive reports and effective solutions. Trust us to keep your home or business mold-free and safe for everyone.
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nicolejames12 · 10 months
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Top Home Inspection Companies in Florida: A Comparison Guide
When it comes to ensuring the safety and integrity of your potential new home in Florida, a thorough home inspection is an absolute must. But with numerous options available, how do you choose the right home inspection company? To help you make an informed decision, we've compiled a comparison guide of the Top Home Inspector Georgia Atlanta. Visit: https://sites.google.com/view/tophomeinspection/blog/top-home-inspection-companies-in-florida-a-comparison-guide
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bunnysbrainrot · 11 months
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Discreet
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Kinktober Prompt: Dirty Talk
Relationship: Dean Winhester x Reader
Content: Sexual content, implied sex, sexting, Dean has a breeding kink, mentions of cum/creampies, exhibitionism fantasies.
Summary: While trying to focus on research, Dean executes a plan to distract you, shamelessly in front of his brother. Can you hold it together, or will you crack under the pressure?
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"Hold on, I think we're looking at the wrong Louisville," Sam speaks up. You whip your head to the brother before opening your laptop to inspect for yourself.
Dean arches an eyebrow, "Sam, there are a million Louisville's, you gotta narrow it down."
In his lap, Dean begins to type into his phone. You shift in your seat, staring at your open laptop, opened to a list of different states that are each home to a different Louisville. In your back pocket your phone vibrates against your chair. You glance at Dean before opening the new notification.
I'm bored.
You stifle a laugh but roll your eyes, replying to Dean.
Another vamp case isn't enough for you?
You see Dean smirk out of your periphery. Sam's brows furrow as he mutters to himself, scrolling through different sites and resources, occasionally asking for your and Dean's input.
"We've checked Kentucky and Georgia already - I think Ohio should be next on our list."
"Since when do Vampires attack cities just based on its name?"
Sam clears his throat. Your phone vibrates in your hand; you swiftly check the message, but instantly forget the start of Sam's explanation.
You have no idea how badly I want to fuck you right now.
A rush of red floods your cheeks before you shove the phone back into your pocket. You snap back to attention for Sam, though your mind is traveling elsewhere.
"The way I see it, vampires can have a pretty twisted sense of humor. It's possible that vamps from all of these different states thought it would be funny to go after their own Louisvilles."
Despite Sam's talking, Dean's attention is set on you as you try to pay attention. He smiles when he watches you falter over Sam's words, and laughs when you have to ask Sam to repeat part of what he said. Of course Sam pays little mind at first and simply reiterates, but still shifts his attention to Dean. You take a break to reply to him.
right now??? Dean we're literally in the middle of our research.
A swift reply from a too-cool Dean: I know.
You put down your phone with a short exhale and school yourself back into a research mindset. A few minutes pass without a disturbance, save for the occasional comment or question from you or Sam, but there was radio silence from Dean. Until he prods further, at least.
"Hey, check the link I sent you," after you perk your head up, you realize that Dean's focus is on you once again.
"Could you send it to me, too, Dean?" Sam requests.
Dean quickly changes the subject, "It's not for the case, it was somethin' we were talking about earlier. But trust me, if I find anymore nerd content, I'll send it your way."
Sam gives his brother a glare before he tends back to his laptop. You comply with Dean and look at your phone, and it takes everything in your willpower to keep yourself collected.
I would fuck you on this table right now, if I could. You're lucky I don't want to scar Sam for life.
You accidentally chuckle, bringing Sam to attention again. You mutter an apology at his confused look and you both look back to your computers. Hiding your phone behind your laptop screen and out of view, you watch the flood of Dean's texts come in.
You would sound so much prettier if I could hear your screams echo off the walls.
Warmth floods between your thighs - you instinctively clench onto nothing but the thought of Dean buried in you, splayed wide on the mahogany table. Your mind rushes to the idea of Dean bending you over onto the wood, holding you firmly at the hips as he juts his hips from behind.
Everything alright, sweetheart?
His teasing leaves you scowling at your phone. Hopefully your expression could be assumed to be directed at your research, which hasn't made any progress, no thanks to Dean. You debate your reply before sending it.
What else would you do?
You see a smile stretch Dean's lips as he prepares his response. You tense as you await, but his text is drawn out, making you wait. Dean was delivering this flawlessly - just enough to watch you squirm and lose yourself to the thoughts.
I would start out slow. Ideally you'd just be in a t-shirt and panties, sitting right here in front of me on the table. I would lean you back, and slowly pull your panties to the side...
It was all he gave you, for the time being. You shift in your seat again, clicking your laptop a few times to build the illusion of intent research.
Your phone buzzes with a new message.
I would start with my fingers. I'd tug your panties to the side, and slip a finger in. You'd sound so much better when you'd try to keep quiet. I would make you come with one finger, then two, then three.
The reply to him is short, but it's all you can muster as you've fallen under his spell, Would we be alone?
Dean clears his throat before he rises from the table. He holds an arm in front of his crotch and quickly turns to leave for the kitchen.
"Want a beer?" he asks generally.
Fuck, you needed more than a beer. To deal with this, he should've offered a handle of vodka for you to drown out the untimely advances.
"Sure," echo you and Sam, smiling at each other that you spoke at the same time. After all these months with the brothers, you all had really begun to mimic behaviors. It was a beautiful sign of the time you've shared and the intricate work you all put into your relationships.
It's a nice way to clear your clouded head. That is, until you see a new reply from Dean. You make a particular effort to watch Sam out of the corner of your eye.
Doesn't matter. If someone was home, they'd have a hell of a show.
You quip, You're feeling pretty bold, huh?
He reminds you, Again, you're lucky I don't want to scar Sam for life.
Dean comes back into the room, meticulously holding three beers in one hand, while he texts with the other. You're intently eyeing your phone as you await his reply.
I'd add my tongue, too. I know exactly what pretty sounds you make when I've got my fingers in your pussy, and your clit in my mouth. You'd look so pretty trying to grip onto the table.
The scowl stitching your brows together softens as you feed into the flirtations. A fresh flow of heat melts between your legs, reminding you immediately of the power Dean could have over your body, even without using his hands.
You'd be shaking by the time I was done. You would be begging like you always do. Begging for my cock, begging me to fill up your needy pussy. Cause my hands just aren't enough to fuck you dumb, are they?
Breath hitches in your throat. Are you seriously about to full-on sext Dean right in front of his brother? Surely, Sam would have to notice at some point, though Dean shows no sign of him regarding it.
No, sir, you admit. You prop your phone back on your laptop and 'continue to research', pathetically at that.
Sweet girl is always needing my big cock to ruin her insides, isn't she?
The image of Dean's length intrudes your thoughts, throbbing and leaking with beads of precum. You can envision its warmth at your entrance, and the way Dean notches the thick head of him into your tight hole before he eases himself inside. Your fingers ache with the effort of not shoving them into your slicked panties to toy with yourself.
Dean's teasing doesn't ease in the slightest. If anything, it seems like he's trying to have you undone. Begging.
You'd ride me in the chair, first. I would have you fuck yourself onto my cock, but you wouldn't be able to come yet. Not until I can watch the way I stretch you open on the table.
Sam's muttering saves you from falling too deep into the rabbit hole Dean's excavated for you. You steady your breath, debating the risk of replying back to Dean. If he's finding amusement in doing this, you can't tell - his expression is cool and collected, to your frustration.
Do you know that your tummy bulges when I'm inside you? I'd make you watch. You'd see how my big cock shoves into that tight pussy, stretching her wide open for me.
You squirm helplessly in your seat, crossing your legs to stifle the dull throbbing radiating from your clit. With your thighs shifting together, you brace yourself to finally issue a reply.
You're mean
Dean audibly chuckles. Sam inspects him and scowls, "Dean, are you even doing your research? We really need to work on this - we're leaving tomorrow."
The eldest Winchester trains his expression back to utter seriousness, "Y'gonna wring my neck for taking a break?"
"This is important-"
"Yeah, yeah, I know," Dean dismisses, zoning back in on his own laptop and ignoring his glaring brother. You ease slightly now that the heat is pushed to Dean. But, the texts don't stop. Dean assumes a stronger façade, steeling his poker face.
You like it, though. I don't think you understand how wet you get when I'm a little mean. You love being my perfect slut. I wish you knew how tight you feel when I call you a whore.
The answer was evident in your sex. Your walls flutter around the emptiness in your neglected pussy, longing for a proper filling. Lust glazes your eyes as you glance up at Dean, finding him smirking knowingly at you. Fuck him. He knows exactly what he's doing to you.
"Dean, I'm sending you some articles. These are from the Lousiville in Ohio - those deaths look pretty similar."
Sam's words fall on deaf ears. After a few moments, Dean finally opens the links his brother sent him, giving you a bit of a break from his relentless texts.
You direct your attention back to your laptop and ogle at the screen. The thoughts Dean planted in your mind run a rough course, battering you with each thrust and moan that could be happening if you and Dean were alone.
Assuming Dean's read the articles, you stare at his next text, heat rumbling in your gut.
Would you be a good cumslut? Would you take my cock like a needy little whore?
He needs an answer. Dean needs to know that his words are taking effect, and he wants to hear it from you - how eager you are.
You reply, I would. I'll be a good girl.
Because you know what I do with brats, right? Dean's reply shudders through your core.
This time, you don't reply. Ultimately, his question is rhetorical and answered immediately in your subconscious. Any sort of bratty behavior is quickly corrected by either Dean's punishment, or a complete denial of any stimulation until you were begging for Dean's forgiveness. You'd spent countless times on your knees, in front of Dean's cock, begging for him to absolve you, and fuck you senseless.
If you're good, I'll give you what you want. How does it feel when my cum is deep inside of you?
The drenched fabric of your panties rubs against your slick folds. You adjust your sitting position, sitting up to let yourself open onto the material of your underwear. Ever so slightly, you grind yourself in your seat, watching Sam intently out of the corner of your eye, hoping he won't notice the feeble attempt to get yourself off.
The reply is short, It feels good, sir.
Dean clears his throat, and pretends to open a web browser.
I know, sweetheart. Feels good to keep me in your sweet pussy, keeping all of my cum for yourself. It feels so good to breed your cunt.
A deeper strain aches at your arms, urging yourself to take your own break to relieve yourself in the bathroom. Dean can see you squirm in your chair, and intentionally avoid his stare.
He texts you again, trying to earn a visible response to his taunts.
After I'm done, I would hold your legs open and watch my cum leak out of you. One of these days, I want to see how many times I can do it in a day. You'd be messy all day long.
You envision it yourself - the foreign image of white, warm ropes of Dean's cum spilling out of your stretched cunt and onto the floor below, wasted. Tightness pulls your abdomen taught as you think about being bred for an entire day, all to Dean's satisfaction. Your pussy clamps down onto nothing, yet again, at the sheer thought of it.
"I'll send you the same articles I sent to Dean. Let me know what you think," Sam is honing in on you this time. You nod and keep an eye out for the incoming links, and click on them. Eyeing them intentionally, you try to shove aside the persistent fantasies from taking over your senses.
Another text pops up on your screen.
It would be a lazy day. In the morning I would fuck you slow, giving you your first load of the day. We'd make lunch. You'd still be sore, but not as sore as you'd be after we eat.
Your mind travels elsewhere. The computer screen fades out of your attention as your eyes glaze over again.
I would fuck you on the kitchen table. You'd pull your panties up right after I was done and sit in my cum for hours, waiting for more. I wouldn't let you take those panties off. You wouldn't waste anything I gave you.
He was exactly right. It didn't matter how many times Dean had spilled himself into you, you relished the feeling of his cum buried deep inside of your pussy, precisely where it should be.
You want to touch yourself, don't you, sweetheart?
Your fingers twitch at the screen, as if they want to follow Dean's question to provide him a swift answer.
I want you to fuck me.
Dean's smirk grows. Your breath grows strained as he replies.
Needy little slut.
It would've been your undoing if it weren't for Sam's company. You throw a pitiful look toward Dean, but it goes ignored.
You'd let me take you anywhere in this bunker, wouldn't you? I could fill you up in every room of this place.
You reeled over the number of room's in the bunker, listing them off until you lost count. The slick between your folds soaks your panties further as you writhe gently in your chair.
I know you will. You would love knowing that I've stuffed your cunt in every room. And no one else would know, but we would. It would give you plenty to think about.
The mere idea of it gave you more than enough to go off of. How Sam hasn't realized that something's amiss, you don't understand, but are silently thankful that he can't see your unraveling. Dean, however, cannot focus on anything else. The strain of his cock against his jeans is bordering on discomfort, but he intends to keep you under his spell.
He lowers a hand to his lap and slightly grazes the growing bulge. Dean seems to have teased himself just as much as he did you - all thoughts of research dissolved in the presence of his new fantasies.
I'll bet you $10 that Sam is gonna run an errand after this. We should see how well we can use the free time.
A new tension tightens in your tummy. There would be no telling how long Sam would be occupied for, but Dean didn't see any qualms.
Yes, but maybe not in the main hall, for everyone to see us?
Your compromise is accepted. Dean nods slightly across from you, still staring at his laptop screen, then glancing to his phone.
Prude.
Under the table, you kick Dean's shin. He yelps at the new pain in his leg, earning a confused look from his brother. Sam looks between the two of you quizzically.
"Do y'all need a room to yourselves, or something?"
Dean smiles at his brother, avoiding your new glare, "No, no, we're fine. Aren't we, baby?"
The glare doesn't let up, but you don't reveal the truth of your texts with Dean. You look to Sam and jab a thumb toward his brother.
"He's being a dick, can you punch him for me?"
Without question, Sam delivers a firm punch to Dean's arm. Dean's shocked frustration is met with a devilish smirk from you, satisfied that you're now blameless. A moment after the brotherly bickering, a new text lights up your phone.
You're mean
You giggle at the screen and send him a final reply, letting him sit with the thoughts he'd poured into both of your heads.
I know. But, you like it.
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Hey everyone! If you enjoyed, please help support my writing by reblogging!
Apologies that this took so long. I appreciate all of your kind messages as I balance how busy life has been lately. Thank you for all of your love and support! Happy reading!
-Bunny
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Good Fences (Fluffuary #27)
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FEB27: Reader Request - John Meets Your Friends
For the lovely @gemmahale!! Love you, bestie!
“And he proposed in front of the painting?” Georgia gasped, taking another long sip of her gin and tonic.
She was holding your hand up to her face, inspecting the pearl. Her fiery red curls bounced when she talked, and her bright red lipstick matched it almost perfectly. Georgia always sparkled. She was brash and loud and unafraid to use it.
“Girl. This is nice.”
“Thank you,” you blushed, sipping your margarita.
“So, what’s he like? I’m upset we haven’t met him yet,” asked Carrie, nursing her own margarita. Hers, though, was the size of a fishbowl.
“I think he said he’d be here at ten thirty,” you checked your phone. It was ten forty-five, no calls, no texts.
The wedding was in two weeks, and you were out with your friends. His buddies were in town, as you’d just gotten home from visiting his family overseas. You didn’t really want a true bachelorette party; male strippers and dick necklaces were great and all, but it just wasn’t your scene. You were happy to be grabbing drinks with the girls. You’d known Carrie and Georgia since grade school, and Cana since college, so it was nice that they all got along.
“Okay! I’m back,” Cana came over to the table with a server’s tray as if she worked there, “One for you, one for you, one for me, and… two for our beautiful bride!”
Tequila shots. You were going to have a headache tomorrow, but you downed them anyway, chasing it with plenty of salt and lime.
“Whoo!” Carrie screamed.
“Okay,” Georgia’s face puckered, “I am definitely not young enough for that anymore.”
“Enough of all this,” Carrie interrupted, “What’s he like? We gotta know.”
Then, as if she had summoned him, John walked through the door. He was dressed up, but in a lowkey sort of way. When he turned to you and waved, you heard Georgia gasp,
“Holy fuck, he’s enormous.”
“He looks like he could throw a car. What the hell, babe? Are you for real?” Carrie asked, staring rudely, her mouth agape.
“Cute though, huh?” Cana sipped her drink until the straw made empty gurgling sounds.
All your friends nodded dumbly in unison. You giggled,
“Stop! He’s coming over here.”
You watched him approach, his huge body moving gracefully despite its size, edging through the crowd. When he arrived at your table, he pulled you into a deep but brief kiss, keeping it subtle, but adding just enough sexual energy to it to excite your friends into a froth.
“My, my, my,” John purred as he studied the empty glasses on your table, “You ladies look like you’re having fun tonight. Hi, I’m John.”
Everyone went around with their names and handshakes, and Cana piped up, having met him already,
“Sit, sit! They need to hear all about you.”
You watched John make himself comfortable at the table, and the server brought over a tray of four beers.
You stared at him confused, and he chuckled,
“Sorry, love. Hope it’s okay that I brought my mates with me.”
You looked over his shoulder and saw Kyle, Simon, and Johnny making their way over.
“Cap’n! You didnae tell us all of your missus’ mates would be so damn bonnie,” Johnny crooned, sidling up to Georgia and audaciously kissing her hand.
Simon sat down next to Carrie and put his long arm around the back of her chair, rolling his eyes at his sergeant,
“Sure they have finer prospects than you, MacTavish.”
Gaz and Cana, who had made a strong connection at her graduation bash, shared a sneaky kiss together and you watched her make a signal for him to follow her to the bathroom.
You looked at your friends’ faces, full of shock and awe and thought to yourself: It’s gonna be a long night.
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AO3 LINK
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Potter Wasp Megalomorpha
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I lay on the floor, paralyzed. How long has it been? Days? Hours? Mere hellish minutes? It’s too dark now to tell. I hear my ragged breath in my ears. White hot pain shoots down my spine as I feel whatever is now attached to my back begin to wriggle and writhe.
–?? Months? earlier.
Grandma Maggie needed help after her fall. I was the closest family member to her, so I was the one to make the several hours’ drive to her home in rural north Georgia. The further north I go, the more hilly the roads become. This shouldn’t be an issue, but July’s hurricane season, and the rain, makes the roads slippery and difficult to climb. I should’ve just gotten a motel room when I had the chance, but by now, civilization was too far behind me to stop. I was closer to grandma Maggie than I was to the Best Value Motel I’d seen hours before.
My beater of a Toyota chugs along a steep road when lightning flashes above and thunder reverberates through my car. My foot slips off the gas pedal, causing my car to slide down the road. I pump the brakes, but it was no use as my car hydroplanes into the guardrail. My head lurches forward as my car comes to a sudden halt. The seatbelt keeps my body safe, but the sudden pressure against my sternum as it holds me in place knocks the wind out of me. 
My airbags didn’t deploy, and that perturbs me. Grabbing my umbrella from the backseat, I step out into the rain and inspect the damage. The rear right wheel sticks out at a funny angle. My car is wrecked. I sit back down in the driver’s seat and grab my phone from the glove box. There’s no signal. In vain, I try calling 911, but my phone can’t connect. I’m well and truly stranded. 
Resting my head against the steering wheel, I look out the passenger window. I sit back up as I strain to look farther. Faint light from a structure in the woods fills my hopeful eyes. I grab my umbrella to brave the rain once more. Hopefully, whoever owns this house has a landline, or at the very least, a place to sleep that isn’t the backseat of my car.
My boots squish through soft red mud as I trudge towards the house, walking for what feels like hours. My socks are soaked through. I look behind me towards my car. The house was visible from the road, so I should be able to see the road behind me even if I haven’t made it to the house. 
But when I turn around, all I see is a thick forest. “It must be the rain obscuring my vision,” I try to assure myself, in vain. I whip my head back towards the house, afraid it might disappear if I look away for too long. Thankfully, it’s still there, its warm yellow lights greeting me with cheer.
It doesn’t seem any closer and I worry the car crash knocked a screw loose in my head. I pray I’m not hallucinating as I continue my slog through the downpour. But finally the house appears to get closer as I walk towards it. Dark brown wood siding and white shutters make the house look quaint, or it would if not for the fact that the house is half buried in a hill. 
Was there a landslide? The weather is wet enough, and the area is hilly enough for it, but the house seems undamaged. The hill is red clay with no grass on it or nothing. I try not to look at it. Its strange unnatural lumps make me feel uneasy. 
Ignoring my discomfort, I approach the house. But when I knock on the door and the lights from inside the house vanish. I guess they weren’t expecting guests. Desperate to get out of the rain, I pound on the door. My clothes are soaked and I’m shivering with cold despite the muggy July air. There is no answer. I pound the door harder. Someone’s in there or they wouldn’t’ve turned the lights off when I first knocked. 
I almost think about shouting through the door and begging when the door creaks open. I expected the door to swing open with someone on the other side. Instead, it pushes open as if it had been stuck and my banging dislodged it. 
The inside of the house is dusty and disused. It’s clear no one has inhabited this house for years. I step forward, dripping water onto creaking floorboards. Mud squishes into the faded welcome mat beneath my feet. I turn my phone’s flashlight on.
“Hello?” I call out. Silence greets me back. The hair on the back of my neck stands up as a feeling of wrongness overcomes me. I shouldn’t be here, but as if in a trance, I walk deeper into the house. As my ears adjust from the loud rain to the silent house, I realize it’s not silent. Faint dripping noises from a roof leak above me and a strange gurgling noise ahead of me fill the space. I keep walking forward. 
In the living room I walk past moth-eaten couches and a dusty overturned bookshelf. Mildewed books strewn across the floor, filling the house with the heady scent of rotting paper. I keep walking forward. I approach the kitchen, unable to see much of it beyond a toppled fridge from my angle of approach. The gurgling sound grows louder. 
“Is anyone there?” I whisper, fearful that someone might answer. When I reach the kitchen, I look for where the gurgling sound might be coming from. Did the landslide damage the house after all? Is muddy water bubbling through the siding? I step around the fallen fridge. I aim my camera light ahead of me and see strange lumpy masses on the floor. The light is too weak for me to see more than the vague shape of things, but the lumps don’t look like kitchen furniture. 
I look closer and my heart and breathing stop. The lumps are people, but their bodies are wrong. Twisted and bumpy. Strange long pods seem to grow from their backs. Are those mushrooms? What is growing out of them? The growths seem too organized to be natural, going straight down their twisted spines. With horror I realize these… people are the sources of the gurgling sound. Their eyes are rolled back and they do not seem aware of my presence. Their chests rise and fall, showing they are still barely alive somehow.
I take a step back, but my foot catches onto the fridge behind me and I fall. Above me, I hear a menacing buzz. I look up and the fear washes out of me. Everything is okay. Everything is beautiful. 
Warmth embraces me, and pleasure tingles down my spine. When did I end up on the floor? Not that it matters. At some point my camera’s light dies, but that doesn’t matter either. All that matters is this beautiful, pleasurable warmth. I try to smile, but I can’t feel my face.
FANNIN COUNTY, Ga. — Detectives in Fannin County are hosting an event in hopes of getting closer to identifying the remains of 7 people found in an abandoned house that was destroyed in a landslide, according to a release from the district attorney and medical examiner’s office.
People are invited to the Fannin County Public Library on West Main Street to attend a missing persons event and DNA drive. It’s free to the public and being held on May 20 from 10 a.m. to 4 p.m.
Families of missing persons are asked to come together at the event to share any information about their loved ones, as well as to open or add to any missing persons’ reports. Officials encourage attendees to consider donating DNA samples, which can assist with identification efforts.
Criticisms of the Fannin County Police Department are mounting as the FCPD deny allegations of covering up a serial killer.
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from your experience, do you think fully indoor enclosures (the Georgia Aquarium or SeaWorld Abu Dhabi, for example) are worse welfare-wise for cetaceans and pinnipeds than outdoor ones? they would definitely be advantageous in places where severe weather is a concern, but I feel like they should be out in the fresh air. i don’t want to make a judgment call if that’s not the case though cuz I’ve always wondered about this but don’t know enough about marine mammals to answer. thanks :)
So this is a really great question, and actually one I’ve been wondering about myself recently. From what I can tell, there hasn’t been a lot of formal research into the pros and cons of completely indoor versus completely outdoor habitats for marine mammals. My “gut” response is to agree with you that, yes, exposure to fresh air and sunlight is preferable whenever possible. Never underestimate the important of sunlight!
However, there are environments where indoor housing is more appropriate, namely urban settings. Aquariums like Georgia, Shedd, and National are literally downtown in Atlanta, Chicago, and Baltimore respectively—major cities. While this is an optimal location for reaching the highest number of people, it also means air quality is poor, and we know how sensitive marine mammals are to respiratory pollutants. In these cases, indoor habitats are probably the wiser option, and it seems to have served them well. In the 12 years since Georgia Aquarium opened its bottlenose exihibit, they have only lost one dolphin (to acute pneumonia), despite maintaining a pod of a dozen or so. Obviously, there are a whole host of factors that go into health and survival rates (Georgia does not permit its dolphins to breed, for one, which eliminates juvenile mortalities), but I don't think it's unfair to assume there would probably be a lot more respiratory problems in their pod if the dolphins lived outside in downtown Atlanta.
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Another major factor that has only recently been recognized is regional microbiomes. This is one of the more viable theories as to what caused the short-lived dolphinarium Dolphinaris Arizona to tragically lose half of its dolphins over the course of a year and a half. Most of their dolphins were born either at SeaWorld Orlando or Dolphin Quest's Hawai'i locations—tropical climates, especially when compared to the arid desert climate of the greater Phoenix area. In Arizona, the dolphins encountered a new set of pathogens quite different from what they were acclimated to, and it is thought this contributed to at least a few of the deaths (one of them died of neurological disease for unrelated reasons).
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Dolphinaris Arizona was a modern facility, with both indoor and outdoor habitats, and inspections revealed no issues with the animals’ care. It might’ve been horrible luck, similar to what CMA is experiencing right now. But I can’t help but wonder if all-indoor facilities might’ve prevented all this heartbreak.
The brand-new SeaWorld Abu Dhabi is now home to twenty-four dolphins—all from US SeaWorld Parks, which are found in humid subtropical to temperate coastal desert climates. Abu Dhabi, like Arizona, is in an arid desert climate. However, as you mentioned, the new facility is entirely indoors, which hopefully will aid in protecting the animals from both the unfamiliar desert pathogens and pollutants of the city. Reassuringly, the dolphin habitat is surrounded by large windows to allow ample exposure to natural sunlight. Since arriving in the fall of last year, all the dolphins have so far been doing well!
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(I’m really excited about this habitat. It’s quite large and features depth variation, rockwork, a rain simulator, and live fish. I’ve also seen waves in some of the park walkthrough videos I’ve watched, although I’m unsure if this is from an actual wave machine or just the changes in depth combined with the animals’ movements).
Thanks for the ask! I hope it was helpful. I would love to be involved in formal research on the topic in the future!
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fenrislorsrai · 9 months
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Tameka’s kids have essentially been out of school since COVID hit in March 2020. She and her kids have had a consistent place to live, but nearly everything else in their lives collapsed during the pandemic. (Tameka is her middle name. The Associated Press is withholding her full name because Tameka, 33, runs the risk of jail time or losing custody of her children since they are not in school.)
Tameka’s longtime partner, who was father to her children, died of a heart attack in May 2020 as COVID gripped the country.
His death left her overwhelmed and penniless. Tameka never graduated from high school and has worked occasionally as a security guard or a housecleaner for hotels. She has never gotten a driver’s license. But her partner worked construction and had a car. “When he was around, we never went without,” she says.
Suddenly, she had four young children to care for by herself, with only government cash assistance to live on.
Schools had closed to prevent the spread of the virus, and the kids were home with her all the time. Remote learning didn’t hold their attention. Their home internet didn’t support the three children being online simultaneously, and there wasn’t enough space in their two-bedroom apartment for the kids to have a quiet place to learn.
Because she had to watch them, she couldn’t work. The job losses put her family even further below the median income for a Black family in Atlanta — $28,105. (The median annual income for a white family in the city limits is $83,722.)
When Tameka’s children didn’t return to school, she also worried about the wrong kind of attention from the state’s child welfare department. According to Tameka, staff visited her in spring 2021 after receiving calls from the school complaining her children were not attending online classes.
The social workers interviewed the children, inspected their home and looked for signs of neglect and abuse. They said they’d be back to set her up with resources to help her with parenting. For more than two years, she says, “they never came back.”
When the kids missed 10 straight days of school that fall, the district removed them from its rolls, citing a state regulation. Tameka now had to re-enroll them.
Suddenly, another tragedy of her partner’s death became painfully obvious. He was carrying all the family’s important documents in his backpack when he suffered his heart attack. The hospital that received him said it passed along the backpack and other possessions to another family member, Tameka says. But it was never found.
The backpack contained the children’s birth certificates and her own, plus Medicaid cards and Social Security cards. Slowly, she has tried to replace the missing documents. First, she got new birth certificates for the children, which required traveling downtown.
After asking for new Medicaid cards for over a year, she finally received them for two of her children. She says she needs them to take her children to the doctor for the health verifications and immunizations required to enroll. It’s possible her family’s cards have been held up by a backlog in Georgia’s Medicaid office since the state agency incorrectly disenrolled thousands of residents.
When she called for a doctor’s appointment in October, the office said the soonest they could see her children was December.
“That’s too late,” she said. “Half the school year will be over by then.”
She also needs to show the school her own identification, Social Security cards, and a new lease, plus the notarized residency affidavit.
She shakes her head. “It’s a lot.”
Some of the enrollment requirements have exceptions buried deep in school board documents. But Tameka says no one from the district has offered her guidance.
Contact logs provided by the district show social workers from three schools have sent four emails and called the family 19 times since the pandemic closed classrooms in 2020. Most of those calls went to voicemail or didn’t go through because the phone was disconnected.
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sociallyawkwardsailor · 6 months
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Happy my transfer package is going well. My sea duty screening came back as "suitable to execute orders," my 12 month contract extension was approved, and I've requested my date of detachment from this command for 03 JUN. This will allow for maximum transfer leave before I have to report to NAS Pensacola, and better my chances of getting approved for my request for commercial air instead of the rotator. I'd rather fly to my @localairport rather than Norfolk and have to worry about getting home. Though, I figure if I do get put on the rotator, I could book a ticket on the train, as there's an Amtrak route from Norfolk to home, so...might not be that bad.
I plan to drive to Pensacola this time. The radar school I'm attending is roughly 3 months long and tbh packing for a flight when I have 2 bags I have to take with me (sea bag, garment bag w/ dress uniforms) can be stupid. Bae is also tired of traveling in the overhead bins; he got spoiled on our roadtrip to Georgia for SATCOM school.
My department has an inspection later this month that involves a uniform inspection, and thankfully the uniform is our working uniform, so I can go ahead send my dress uniforms home. I'm finna yeet sooo many Priority Mail boxes.
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redqueenphoenix · 1 year
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State Championship (TWD Fanfiction Part 10)
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State Championship Part 10
(A TWD Fan Fiction)
I do not own any of the rights to The Walking Dead, nor do I own any of the characters mentioned from here on in, other than Victoria Hawkins. Some situations have been changed and some people may have been switched in this alternate universe. 
All characters in this fan fiction are over the age of 21 years old.
Coach Negan Smith X Female OC
Word Count: 1285
~*~
Part 10
Victoria spent the next few days crying on and off as she packed her stuff. She stepped away from her laptop after scoping out colleges in Atlanta Georgia since she was going back there. She was happy that one of the colleges accepted her in the middle of the school year. Her start date for the new college was next week so she had to get on the road soon. 
She had run into Negan and Lucille once when she went to get boxes and totes from a store and saw how happy they really were. She internally hated what Negan had done, but she couldn’t bring herself to hate him as a person. 
Finally being fully packed she took her stuff to her car, jamming it into the small four door vehicle as she swore. It was a chore doing this by herself, but she didn’t want to leave anything. Once she jammed her last bag of clothes and her laptop into her car, she turned to the office and took her key to them. Knowing that they would do a walk through and give her the deposit back. 
Once the inspection of her apartment had finished she got into her car and looked down at her phone. She felt the need to message Negan goodbye, but then changed her mind. 
Starting her car she began her two hour drive to her mother’s house in Atlanta. The same damn way that the bus took her a handful of months ago. She turned her radio up as she made her way to the highway to leave town. 
Victoria sighed as she hit a stoplight on her way out of town. She rolled her eyes as she looked out her window. There Negan was helping Lucille into a doctor's office, more specifically a cancer doctor. His eyes locked with hers as she pulled forward as the light changed. Taking a shaky breath, she cut through the intersection and made her way out of town.
Her mind wandered as she drove down the freeway towards her mothers. She knew her sister, Erika would be happy to see her, but she didn’t know how her step brother Draven would take the news of her coming back. 
Draven was her father’s first child from his first marriage and he really didn’t like his new step mother. Before she moved he did show some hostility towards her due to siding with her mother, but she hoped he had grown out of that. Or at least stopped being a dick about everything.
Time seemed to slip by her quickly as she saw the city of Atlanta come into view. She sighed as she took an exit to swing her into the city from the freeway. The buildings whipped by as her phone chimed. Ignoring it she pulled onto the main street of the town, heading to her mother’s house with no other thought on her mind. 
Her mother’s house sat on a quiet block not far from the college that accepted her. Smiling, she pulled into the drive, feeling as if she could start over if the hole in her heart would heal. 
Victoria pulled her keys from the car, grabbing up her phone and purse. Taking a deep breath she got out of the car and started for the door. Raising her hand, she knocked on the door and waited. 
A few moments later the door opened. A shorter, blonde girl with green eyes opened the door and let out a squeal of excitement. “Oh my god, Tori!” She flung her arms around her. “No one told me you were coming!”
“Hey, Erika.” She smiled as she wrapped her arms around her little sister. “I thought mom would have told you I was coming home.”
Erika pulled back and arched an eyebrow, “you’re staying?”
“Yeah.” She chuckled as they entered the house. 
Erika closed the door and gave her sister a puzzled look, “I thought you were seeing someone there? At least that’s what mom said.”
“We broke up.” Victoria bit her lip as she sat her purse down.
“Oh, damn. I’m sorry, sis.” She looked up the set of stairs off the side of the living room. “Hey, Mom! Victoria’s here.”
She heard her mother scramble to get to the stairs and come down, “Vicky! I wasn’t expecting you for another day or so.”
“I couldn't stand being there any longer. Plus I start the new college next week.” She took a breath, shoving her cell phone into her pocket after seeing the notification of who messaged her. “I wanted some time to catch up with the family before I move to the campus.”
“So, you're taking the dorm we talked about?” Her mother asked as she moved from the living room to the kitchen. 
“Yeah, it would be easier, plus with the whole family being here it would give us all a little more space.” Victoria followed her mother.
“Don’t worry about it. Draven is threatening to move out.” She shook her head as she put some coffee on.
Victoria rolled her eyes. “Are you two still at each other?”
“When aren’t they?” Erika chimed in as she grabbed a soda from the fridge.
“What’s his deal now? And shouldn’t he have his own place? He’s, what, seven years older than me?” Victoria asked as she shook her head.
Erika laughed as she popped the can open, “he sure doesn’t act like it.”
“Erika!” Their mom exclaimed, “he’s just having a hard time finding his place in this world.” She pulled down a pair of coffee cups and poured them some coffee. “I cleaned out the spare room if you wanna store some of your things there until you go to college.”
“Thanks mom.” She smiled as she took the coffee from her. “I should start bringing my stuff in before someone pilfers my car.”
She smiled over her coffee cup, “that sounds like a good idea. Erika, how about you help your sister?”
Erika sat her soda down and walked to the door with Victoria. “So what happened with this guy?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.” Victoria shrugged as she stepped out of the house and went to her car. Grabbing a few of her bags and heading back inside with her sister. 
“Must have been messy.” She looked over to Victoria as she carried her bags up the stairs, “I’m sorry. Men are dicks.”
Victoria laughed and rolled her eyes, “he wasn’t. It was just not the right time.” She followed her sister into the spare room with a laugh, “so, mom calls my old room the spare room?”
“Yeah.” Erika chuckled as she dropped her bags on the bed. “She hasn't let too many people in here since you left.” She turned to head back out to get more of her sister's things.
Victoria took the time to pull her phone out and see what the message said. 
“I saw you leaving town. Be safe out there, doll. Love, Negan.”
Victoria shook her head as she jammed her phone back into her pocket. She smiled a bit knowing that he did still have love for her, but she knew it wouldn’t work out. Not now at least.
~*~
Part 11
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charminggirl512 · 2 years
Text
complicated // jax teller x oc
Jax Teller x F!OC (Dolly Dawson)
Warnings: language, mentions of sex
Word Count: 2,071
A/N: My first Jax fic!!! I'm excited to see what y'all think of Dolly and can't wait to see where their story goes.
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"Should've brought my own fucking grits," I say between my teeth as I stand on my tiptoes, just trying to reach the store-brand bag of grits that some asshole decided to put on the top shelf. 
"You need some help with that, darling?" The pet name pisses me off and I whip around to correct him until I see his face. He is easily the most attractive man that I have ever seen. 
"That would be great," I reply with a smile. He easily grabs them off the top shelf and hands them to me with a smirk playing on his lips.
"What's your name, darling? I've never seen you before, so you must be new to town," He asks and steps back which allows me to take in his leather vest with a multitude of patches.
"I'm Dolly Dawson. I just moved here from Georgia. Yours?"
"Jax Teller. I could tell you were from the South but I couldn't quite figure out the accent." 
"Well, thank you, Mr. Teller, for helping me." His smirk grows when I call him Mr. Teller and I wince at the over-the-top southern manners that have been ingrained in me since birth. Since moving to California, I've gotten quite a few stares for saying ma'am and sir and one lady seemed genuinely offended when I thanked her for holding the door open for me. "Sorry, force of habit. Still getting used to the California way of talkin'."
"Oh, I'm used to people calling me Mr. Teller, but it's usually in a more private setting." My jaw drops at his words which makes him laugh. "I'm just messing with you, darlin'. I usually prefer sir or daddy." 
  With that, I turn around and walk away from him. He calls after me but I pretend I don't hear him while I begin my search for the ingredients to make my mama's biscuits. I've been feeling homesick, so I'm making all the food my mama would make if I were home. She made me a cookbook with all of her recipes and gave it to me when I graduated high school and I'm finally getting the chance to use it. Jax steps behind me in the check-out line with a pack of cigarettes, a box of condoms, and a six-pack of beer. 
"Come on, now, Dolly. I was just messing with you." 
"I know you probably think that I'm stuck up higher than a light pole, but people don't speak like that where I come from, Jax Teller. That kinda talk is reserved for the bedroom and unless you live in this nice little grocery store, it was inappropriate." 
"Anyone ever told you that you speak like a politician," He jokes, and boy does he hit the nail on the head.
"That tends to happen when your daddy is one," I reply before turning around to make small talk with the cashier as she rings up my groceries. I finally make it outside and start loading my groceries in the trunk of my car. Jax comes out a second later and sits on his motorcycle, setting a cigarette between his lips before lighting it and putting his helmet on. 
    I climb in and attempt to crank the ignition, but it just sputters. I try again and again, yet it just makes a loud noise before going silent again. I slam my hands on the wheel and try to hold in a scream. I climb back out and open the hood, trying to inspect an engine that I know nothing about. 
"You need some help?" 
"Nope, I can handle it perfectly fine myself, thank you very much." 
"Well, Miss Dolly, I don't think that you'll be able to figure it out since it seems someone has stolen your catalytic converter." 
   With his words, I promptly burst into tears. I don't usually cry at the drop of a hat, but I've had a very rough past couple of weeks with no one to share the burden with. Jax seems to panic for a second before pulling me into his arms, running his hand over my hair, and comforting me. 
"We can fix this, sweetheart. I'll get a tow truck out here and then we'll take it to the garage my family owns. We'll get it all fixed up," He assures me. I nod into his chest and he reaches into his pocket to make that phone call. We stand there with me still wrapped in his arms until the tow truck comes. A man with curly brown hair climbs out of the driver's seat and a man with scars on his cheeks opens the passenger door. 
"Now, what are you doing making pretty girls cry, Jax? Usually, you wait a little longer to break their hearts," The curly-headed one says with a grin.
"Guess my flirting skills have gotten worse, Tiggy," He replies, and I can instantly tell that there's a lot of history between the two. "This is Miss Dolly Dawson from Georgia."
"Nice to meet you, Dolly. I'm Tig and this is Chibs. Let's get your car loaded up and taken care of so you can escape Jax like I'm sure you intended to." This makes me smile and he returns it before starting the process of loading my car onto the back of the truck. 
   As they're loading it up, Jax takes me over to his bike and pulls an extra helmet out of the saddle bag on the side. He clips into my head, fixing my blonde hair once it's on properly. He climbs on the bike first and I hesitantly get behind him. 
"You ever been on a bike before?"
"No. My daddy would kill me if he saw me right now. He calls motorcycles a coffin on wheels," I answer then blush at my possibly impolite words. He seems to find it funny, though, so I let it go before I get too worked up over it. 
"Well, I promise you'll arrive in one piece, darlin'. Wrap your arms around me and hold on tight. When I lean, lean with me. Don't freak out or you'll mess with our balance, but your job is pretty easy." 
   With that, we're flying out of the parking lot and onto the main road. The wind blows my hair back and I panic about what my hair will look like until I realize that I don't need to care about that. I just need to relax and enjoy this moment of doing something I haven't done before. I no longer needed to be worried about my every minute action. I could begin to enjoy my independence. 
   We pull into a parking lot that's surrounded by a large chain-link fence. As we park, a building sits in front of us and to the side of us. There seem to be a dozen men milling around the lot, some in mechanic suits, others in leather vests like Jax's. I'm beginning to think this experience is about to be a total sausage fest when a tall woman in heels comes walking out of the garage. She comes straight towards Jax and starts looking me up and down, appraising me like I'm a horse she's about to buy.
"Hi, sweetheart," She says before kissing him on the cheek, still staring at me. "Who's this?" 
"Mom, this is Dolly. She just moved to Charming and needed a little help with her car. Dolly, this is my mom, Gemma." I stick my hand out and she stares at it before shaking.
"Nice to meet you, ma'am." 
"You too, sweetheart. Let's get your car into the garage and then we can talk costs." 
   The two of us spend the next hour talking about how much this is all going to cost and how long it'll take to get the parts in. The office we sit in is small and crowded with papers, but there's something comforting in the sounds of people working and laughing outside the door. Once we've figured everything out, Gemma sits back in her chair and stares at me. 
"You know, you're just my son's type." I stare at her for a second before responding.
"Excuse me?"
"He likes that whole innocent little Barbie thing that usually ends up with his heart broken. You're not gonna do that, are you," She asks, obviously not looking for an answer. 
"I just met Jax today. I've spent more time talking to you than I have him." I've never seen anyone speak so bluntly and it was truly shocking. In the South, we're polite to everyone's face, and then we talk shit behind each others' backs. That did not seem to be the California way.
"I saw how you were looking at him, like he was your knight in shining armor. My son is a lot of good things, but a knight he is not. Don't go into this with expectations of changing him into some sort of Southern gentleman who goes to church every Sunday and is a perfect saint. That boy is a born and bred biker and I'm not gonna let him change for some pussy." 
"Thank you for helping me with my car. I'll be back in a couple of days to pick it up and pay. Have a good day, Mrs. Teller." With that, I stand up and walk out, slamming the door behind me. I start looking for my car before realizing that I have no way home. Right as I'm about to pull out my phone to call a cab, Jax walks out of the building next to the garage.
"Hey, darlin', you get everything figured out?" I continue to grab my phone.
"Yes, thank you for your help. I'm just calling a cab and I'll be out of your hair." My tone must be pissed off because he moves to stand in front of me and when I don't look at him, he pushes my chin up so that I can't avoid eye contact.
"What's wrong? What happened to piss you off?"
"It's nothing. I don't want to be in the way, Jax."
"You're not," He says gently, his thumb and pointer finger still holding my chin. "Did Gemma say something?" 
   My lack of response is an answer enough for him. He scoffs, shaking his head before trying to march over to the office. I grab his arm and he spins back around to look at me.
"Don't start something, Jax. It's fine. She just said that I'm your type and that I shouldn't try to change you. There's obviously something deeper there, so I'll just go home, pick up my car in a couple of days, and then stay away. I don't want to create drama for you." 
"She crossed a line, Dolly. She doesn't know you. She doesn't get to speak to you like that. I know that she was probably much harsher than you let on." I go to interrupt him and he holds up a finger. "She is right, you are my type, which is exactly why I was planning on asking you out."
"I don't want to-"
"I'm taking you out. I'll pick you up tomorrow at seven and we'll go to dinner." His authoritative tone is definitely attractive, but I've been bossed around all my life. I'm not gonna let some man I just met do it too.
"I don't get a say in that?" He's about to answer and I cut him off. "Things are... complicated right now, Jax. I don't need to be going out with men I just met." 
"I can assure you, darlin', things are much more complicated on my end. I've got an ex-wife who's three months pregnant with my baby and a best friend who's about to get out of jail. But complicated isn't gonna stop me from taking you out."
   While he's able to easily share the drama in his life, I'm not able to do the same so easily, not without putting him in harm's way. Especially knowing that there's a baby involved. At the same time, he seems to be the kind of guy to not take no as an answer when it comes to this, and I truly don't want to tell him no. 
"Fine." He seems pleased by this answer and gives me a show-stopping grin to show it. 
"Good. Now, let's get the groceries out of your trunk and I'll take you home." I nod and accept that this is probably going to be the beginning of a very long ride.
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glitchlight · 9 months
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Sorry, boot anon here, to clarify:
What brand did you go with, is specifically what I'm asking.
I'm rocking some Zamberlans for work rn, so I was curious what you got! :)
Georgia Comfort Loggers; haven't had a chance to try em out yet, but looking forward to it. Regrettably the work we've got going on right now is mostly building inspections prior to demo so they're gonna get worked in some really gross situations. Because waterproofing and a composite-toe are non-negotiable in a work boot, I have to buy expensive boots from the get go, so I might as well get some that'll last me a good while. Checked out some brands at a store recommended by a coworker in the area, and I liked the fit and quality of Georgia, and as I'm getting older, the added padding's nicer on my knees.
My current pair of work boots are a pair of Keens that I liked quite a bit, but they're vented, the sole was sliced up and losing tread, and was really starting to come undone no matter how much I glued it down. Also wanted to upgrade to some 6 to 8 inch lace ups because I've had a couple jobs in moderate brush where i've come home and those ankle rise boots are just full of burrs and sticks and bullshit.
My every day boots are a pair of Chippewa Baldor loggers; I didn't wanna have the waterproof branding of the similar Paladin on there FOREVER, but I might upgrade in a couple years because I've definitely had some bubbling issues with those. They're the first pair of really nice boots I bought and I kind of babied them too much in the first year, so it might be just remnant overpolish.
I'm looking at those Zamberlans right now and dang these are nice! It's definitely suited for someone who wants options other than "do you want brown, grey, or black?" If I ever feel the need to get a hiking specific boot, I may look into those, but I'm really an intermittent hiker at best.
I'll admit, boot culture is something I'm pretty clueless on (for all that I'm an ex-Texan!) just cause I was flat broke for a long time, but it's interesting to compare.
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garlic-the-gnome · 1 year
Text
The Salty House
Frankie and Georgia Holland had just arrived at their holiday destination in Port Glassfoam when the salt of the sea hit their nose. The two had recently married and were enjoying their life as newlyweds and this vacation was a suggestion made by Georgia’s good friend Vanessa. The sun was setting as people began to make their way home though some remaining children lingered beside the side of the house whispering to each other.
As Georgia opened the car door the children turned and shot a look at her before they scattered. The house itself hadn’t been given a fresh coat of paint in years, peeling yellow flakes sat on the ground amongst the leaf litter. The advertisement that had caught her eye one morning while reading the paper had boasted about being built in the Georgian Era, though the house windows had succumbed to the window tax of the time. As the two strolled up the decrepit path they noticed the walls were swollen from the years by the sea. Once they made it inside a foul stench hit their noses, somewhere between dead fish and mould they concluded. The room that greeted them upon entering hadn’t been cleaned in a while which was evidenced by the cobwebs decorating the corners that had been long abandoned by their owners and were now collecting dust.
Upon inspection of a slim door Frankie found a small kitchen and began riffling through the pantry. Inside there was a carton of spoiled milk, a handful of stale crackers and a half-eaten packet of liquorice, Frankie’s favourite. He dipped his hand into the bag and fished out a stick. Frankie popped it into his mouth and was met with an unexpected taste, salt!
“Mmm salty,” he turned the packet around and found that it wasn’t salted liquorice. Frankie continued to eat the liquorice as he paced around the room. “Hey Honey, did the ad say food was included?” Frankie shouted; mouth still gummy with liquorice.
“I think so?” yelled back Georgia who was currently inspecting glass cloche that was covering a taxidermized rat. Georgia’s eye had been caught be the reflection of the now risen moon of the glass covering. Besides the rat there was also a replica human skull, that’s strange she thought to herself. After she and Frankie had unpacked their belongings into the dresser the two settled down for bed.
Sploosh.
Sploosh.
Sploosh. Frankie’s eyes snapped open. What was that! Mind racing, he heaved himself out of bed, careful not to wake Georgia. He tiptoed out into the living room before he began his search for the nuisance that had woken him from his slumber. He could hear the dripping sound getting closer and he was sure he must be close to it now.
“OH CRAP!” Frankie yelped as he slipped. Georgia now awake, groggily stumbled into the living room to see what all the kerfuffle was.
“What’s wrong darling?”
“This house is what’s wrong!”
“Was there a puddle there before?
“No, I don’t think there was,”
“Well, we can deal with it tomorrow, let’s get back to bed,”
As Georgia lent her hand against the wall, she felt the wallpaper becoming slightly wet. She glanced around the room to see that the walls were beginning to drip. Sploosh, a droplet of water landed on her lips, she licked it off, it tasted salty. The house was smelling rather rancid by this point in time, so Georgia walked to the front door to open it. The handle was covered in a thin layer of what appeared to be salt, as she pulled the handle towards her the door refused to open. She tugged and tugged but it wouldn’t budge, Frankie came to help, but even with their combined strength they could not open the door. The two were so focused on prying the door open they didn’t pay attention to the water that was beginning to pool at their feet. It wasn’t till they began scurrying around desperate to find another way out of the house that they noticed the rising water level. The sea that was forming inside the house began to create a current, the water was now swirling around their knees. To stabilise themselves they tried clinging to the wall but there was water pouring out of it, so every attempt resulted in nothing but failure. Georgia and Frankie were up to the ceiling treading water, they both knew they weren’t going to make it out alive, but that didn’t stop them from screaming.
Outside the children gathered, they listened to the last begging screams of Frankie and Georgia Holland before they succumbed to the murky waters. More victims claimed by The Salty House.
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aletheapierce · 2 years
Text
holiday break 2022 - pierce residence, savannah georgia
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"get up." the voice noted harshly from her doorway. "you cannot waste your day away. not in my household." alethea moaned, turning over to look at their alarm clock that read the time 8:15 am. they figured their mother had already been up since 5:30, answered emails, gone on a run with her father, eaten an almond and green juice for her breakfast. jacob was already gone with his friends, and her father at work. so it meant that alethea was stuck with just their mother for the first day of break. thank god it was only a week.
coming home had been a mistake, they had tried to think of an excuse, any excuse, to stay at school for winter break. she had even tried to excuse of having to be back for the ski trip, and it was pointless, when the dorms closed and their exams finished alethea was expected to be at the airport.
her mother had insisted that it was too far to drive (meaning alethea would have to use one of the family cars when she was home). so they were rolling out of bed without a word and heading toward her en suite bathroom. it was weird, being back home. in a room they had grown up in but felt like a foreigner now.
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"get your act together alethea!" their mother hissed, eyes dark and piercing at their child. the two were seated at the kitchen table, a half-eaten bowl of yogurt in front of alethea. how did she get here? she was in the shower attempting to drown herself and suddenly she was eating breakfast with dried hair and their mother already berating them. "i raised you better than this. you have the perfect plan in front of you, and you're throwing it away." the words were meant to cut, a small wound that would eventually grow into something that could never be closed. she was good at that sort of thing. alethea flinched, eyes casted down. "i only required a few things from you, to set your future, and here you are. your incompetence is embarrassing."
they didn't respond, having learned by now that any move to defend themselves would result in more words thrown like daggers. "and don't even get me started on my leniency with you. you're the one who wanted to dance, and you're lucky that ogden had a program. but now you're saying you're not sure what you want to do? no, you will finish your time at ogden, you will get good grades, and you will come back to savannah. we could barely trust you enough to send you off to a place we are connected to." her voice was so sterile, so emotionless, wanting nothing more than to remind alethea of just how little she meant to the family. how stupid they were. the child in her was screaming, pounding on her ribs to open up and weep. alethea locked them back a few more doors.
"don't you even care that this semester was tough? that my best friend is missing?" she spoke softly, blinking back the threat of tears. "the girl you told me to befriend?" greer had been perfect for her image, jennifer pierce had insisted when alethea mentioned meeting greer on a call home during the first week. "that is so devastating, obviously i am not heartless alethea." her tone begged to differ. "but you have to focus on your future, you are the representative to this family. you don't have time to get lost in some girls game who decided to leave behind her perfect life."
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with that she nodded and dropped her spoon in her bowl, appetite suddenly gone. "i'm going on a run." she didn't wait to hear the woman's response. wanting instead to nurse her wounds, to inspect them one by one, to pick at them and watch them bleed. what could they show her next? what could they do for her this time?
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onlyplumbingus · 1 year
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Only Plumbing: Your Trusted Newnan Plumber for Reliable Services
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Regarding plumbing issues in Newnan, Georgia, you need a trustworthy and skilled plumber to handle the job efficiently. Look no further than "Only Plumbing," your go-to local plumbing service provider. With years of experience and a commitment to customer satisfaction, Only Plumbing has earned a reputation as the top Newnan plumber. In this article, we'll explore why Only Plumbing is the right choice for all your plumbing needs in the Newnan area.
Why Choose Only Plumbing in Newnan?
Expertise and Experience Only Plumbing boasts a team of highly skilled and experienced plumbers who are well-versed in addressing a wide range of plumbing issues. Whether it's a minor leak or a major sewer line repair, our team has the knowledge and expertise to handle any job effectively. Our technicians stay up-to-date with industry trends and innovations, ensuring that your plumbing system is in capable hands.
Prompt and Reliable Service At Only Plumbing, we understand that plumbing emergencies can occur anytime. That's why we offer 24/7 emergency plumbing services in Newnan. When you call us, you can rest assured that our team will respond promptly to your needs. We prioritize reliability and punctuality to minimize the inconvenience of plumbing problems in your home or business.
Comprehensive Plumbing Services Our wide range of plumbing services covers all your plumbing needs in Newnan. Only Plumbing covers you whether you need routine maintenance, repairs, or installations. Our services include:
Leak detection and repair Drain cleaning and unclogging Water heater installation and repair Sewer line inspection and repair Fixture replacement and installation Gas line services Commercial plumbing solutions
No matter the size or complexity of the job, we approach every project with the same level of dedication and professionalism.
Affordable Pricing We understand that plumbing repairs and installations can be a significant expense. That's why Only Plumbing offers competitive and transparent pricing. We provide upfront quotes so you know exactly what to expect without hidden fees or surprises. Our commitment to fair pricing ensures you receive high-quality plumbing services without breaking the bank.
Customer Satisfaction Guarantee At Only Plumbing, customer satisfaction is our top priority. We take pride in delivering top-notch plumbing services that exceed our customers' expectations. Our friendly and courteous plumbers take the time to listen to your concerns, explain the necessary repairs, and provide personalized solutions. We aim to build lasting relationships with our clients based on trust and reliability.
Licensed and Insured Choosing a licensed and insured plumbing service provider is essential for your peace of mind. Only Plumbing is fully licensed and insured, ensuring your property is protected during all plumbing projects. You can trust our professionals to adhere to the highest safety standards while delivering exceptional results.
Conclusion Plumbing should be your first choice when searching for a dependable plumber in Newnan, Georgia. With a team of skilled experts, a commitment to customer satisfaction, and a wide range of comprehensive plumbing services, we have earned our reputation as the top Newnan plumber.
Don't let plumbing issues disrupt your life or business. Contact Only Plumbing today for all your plumbing needs and experience the peace of mind of knowing your plumbing system is in capable hands. We're here to provide reliable, affordable, and high-quality plumbing services to the residents and businesses of Newnan, Georgia. Choose Only Plumbing, your trusted Newnan plumber, and say goodbye to plumbing worries.
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nirbobharvey · 1 year
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Residential Roofing - What You Need to Know
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Prevent having your residential roofing system improperly installed or assembled with poor-quality material. Knowing how components of a residential roofing system are made and installed will help you acquire the best quality residential roof and its installation in the Atlanta metro area.
newimageroofingatlanta.com gathered the following residential roof anatomy, manufacturing, and installation information to help you when selecting a roofing system, its components, and the roof installer for your Atlanta, Georgia, home.
Residential Sloped Roofing System
A residential sloped roof is a protective shield for your home, safeguarding you from the elements while increasing your home’s structural integrity. An essential component of the roofing system is the shingle (a key component that enhances your home’s aesthetic appeal and contributes to the durability and longevity of its roof). Consider the following anatomy of a residential sloped roof:
1. Roof Deck – A sloped roof’s foundation is its deck, typically made of plywood or oriented strand board (OSB). It provides a sturdy base for the installation of roofing materials and ensures structural stability.
2. Underlayment – Beneath the roofing shingles lies the underlayment, a water-resistant barrier shielding the roof deck from moisture and helps prevent leaks. Common underlayment types include asphalt-saturated felt and synthetic materials like synthetic underlayment or rubberized asphalt.
3. Roofing Shingles – Roofing shingles are the visible layer of a residential sloped roof, providing protection and enhancing the overall aesthetics. There are various shingle types available, like asphalt shingles, wood shingles, metal shingles, and clay or concrete tiles. Among these, asphalt shingles are the most commonly used due to their affordability, durability, and ease of installation (specially cut or formed shingles are produced for the ridge and hips).
Asphalt Shingle Manufacturing Process
While asphalt shingle manufacturing and technology have evolved over the years, their basic composition has remained the same. Consider the following asphalt shingle manufacturing process:
Raw Materials – Asphalt shingle production begins with high-quality material selection. Fiberglass or organic mats serve as a shingle’s core, while asphalt acts as a waterproofing agent. Mineral granules are then applied for surface protection and UV resistance, and additives are incorporated to enhance the shingle’s fire resistance and flexibility.
Mat Preparation – The selected mat material (fiberglass or organic), undergoes a manufacturing process to reinforce its strength and durability. Fiberglass mats are made by weaving glass fibers together, while organic mats are typically composed of recycled felt paper.
Coating and Drying – The prepared mat is then coated with asphalt (front and back), using a saturation process to ensure consistent coverage. The coated mat passes through a drying oven, which allows the asphalt to rapidly cure and stabilize.
Granule Application – Once dried, the coated mat proceeds to the granule application process. A layer of ceramic-coated mineral granules is evenly distributed on the top surface of the shingle, providing color, texture, and protection against weathering elements. The granules are embedded into the asphalt surface to enhance adhesion and durability.
Cutting and Shaping – After granule application, the asphalt-coated mat is cut into individual shingles. This process can be done manually or using automated machinery, depending on the production scale.
Packaging and Distribution – Finished roofing shingles are carefully inspected for quality and packed into bundles or cartons. They are then shipped to distributors, contractors, and suppliers for installation on residential roofs.
Note: Read more about roofing shingle production and options by visiting this roof shingle manufacturer.
Residential Sloped Roof Installation
Installing a residential shingle roofing system requires careful planning, proper preparation, and skilled execution. Here is a step-by-step overview of the typical installation process:
Preparation and Safety – Before beginning any work, safety must be prioritized. This includes wearing appropriate personal protective equipment (PPE) like:
Hard hat
Gloves
Goggles
Non-slip footwear
Harness
The area around the home should be cleared of any obstacles, and precautions should be taken to protect landscaping and outdoor features or furniture.
Removal of Existing Roofing Materials (Tear-off) – If there is an existing roof, the first step is to remove the old roofing materials. This may involve stripping off old shingles, underlayment, and flashing. Care should be taken to dispose of the old materials properly.
Inspection and Repair – Once the roof is cleared, a thorough inspection should be conducted to identify any damaged roof decking, sheathing, or structural issues. Any necessary repairs or replacements should be completed before installing a new roofing system.
Underlayment Installation – Install the underlayment, which acts as a moisture barrier and provides an additional protective layer. Asphalt-saturated felt or synthetic underlayment is commonly used. The underlayment should be rolled out horizontally, starting from the bottom edge of the roof and overlapping each subsequent row by a few inches (to ensure proper watershed).
Flashing Installation – Flashing is used to prevent water penetration at vulnerable areas like:
Valleys
Chimneys
Skylights
Roof intersections
Flashing is typically made of metal or a flexible waterproof material. Flashing should be installed before the shingles, ensuring proper coverage, sealing, and drainage.
Starter Shingle Placement – These shingles have a specialized adhesive strip and are installed along the roof’s eaves. These specialized shingles provide a secure foundation for the rest of the shingles and help prevent wind uplift.
Shingle Installation – The chosen shingles are installed from the bottom up, working in rows. Each shingle is nailed or stapled into place using appropriate roofing fasteners. It is crucial to follow the manufacturer’s guidelines regarding nail placement, spacing, and shingle overlap (for best product performance).
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Ventilation and Ridge Cap Installation – Roof vents or ridge vents are installed to ensure proper attic ventilation preventing moisture buildup, allow air circulation, and help regulate temperature and humidity. The ridge cap, a specialized shingle designed for the roof’s peak, is then installed, overlapping the adjacent shingles and providing a solid, finished look.
Cleanup and Final Inspection – Once the roof’s shingles are installed, the work area should be thoroughly cleaned, removing all debris or loose material. A final inspection should be conducted to ensure the roof is properly installed, all shingles are secure, and there are no visible issues or gaps.
Note: The specific installation process may vary depending on factors like the shingle type, roof design, and local building codes. It is recommended to consult with a professional roofing contractor for a precise installation or replacement tailored to your specific roof and location requirements. A well-installed residential shingle roofing system provides long-lasting protection, durability, and aesthetic appeal to your home.
Residential Asphalt Shingle Roofing
In this article, you discovered the composition of a residential roofing system, asphalt shingle manufacturing, and how residential sloped roofs are installed.
Understanding how residential roofing systems are built, manufactured, and installed will help you choose the best materials for your home’s roof.
Not knowing how to recognize quality roofing material or identify the steps in a roof replacement or installation will leave you vulnerable to unscrupulous and unprofessional roofers trying to take advantage of your need.
Sources: energy.gov/eere/buildings/articles/cool-asphalt-shingles gccds.msstate.edu/research/altconstruction/roof/roof.pdf owenscorning.com
To see the original version of this article, visit https://www.newimageroofingatlanta.com/residential-roofing-what-you-need-to-know/
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ecodweeb · 1 year
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Welcome home, Darcy!
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I adopted a cat from a rescue in Columbia, South Carolina. Of course this meant we had to drive to go get the cat, and it turns out there’s more than one route to go pick up the cat. Let’s take a deeper dive into that and then I’ll tell you how things really went.
Route 1: US1 with a charge stop in Lilesville
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This route is more direct, taking a little over 4 hours door-to-door with a charging stop on both the outbound and return legs. This station is run by the Pee Dee Electric Member Cooperative on the ChargePoint network and only costs 14-cent/kWh (about 3-cent more expensive than home charging), but it’s only a 50kW charger. 
Route 2: US1 with a charge stop in Hamlet
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This route was roughly the same as Lilesville, however, the Duke Park and Plug stations here are 150kW each (so we’d get the full 75kW if the battery was low enough) but they cost more at 41-cent/kWh (30-cents or 3.7x the cost of home charging). In theory, we’d spend less time here since this system can max the car out -- but it also assumes that we’d need to be at a very low state of charge to achieve that maximum power.
Route 3: I-95 to I-20 with charge stops in Florence
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Every single mapping app suggested taking 95 to 20, and at the time the Electrify America app said that all the stations at Florence were reduced to 50kW power -- so no maximum charge rate. It’s also 36-cent/kWh (25-cents more / about 3.2 times the cost of home charging). This route seemed the least attractive as the travel time was at best 12 minutes faster and we’d certainly be charging for longer, however this location does have good food options to chew up that time (har har, I made a pun!).
The Winner is...
My husband wanted to see what taking US1 to Columbia was like, as this is my alternative route to get to our campground in Georgia. So we decided to take the Hyundai down to Lilesville and then to Columbia. We left around 7:00am with a target arrival time of 12:00pm in Columbia (I budgeted 1 hour for charging). With 100% state of charge we set off for Lilesville and arrived with 58% after driving 110 miles. We only had two or three scary downpour moments from the severe storm front that was moving through the area.
As I plugged in I was inspecting the charge handle and noticed the rubber around the button was cracked. When I plugged into the car I did not hear the usual “click” of the latch on the plug locking into the socket on the car. However, the station said “Waiting for EV” and the car engaged the charge lock and the status ring in the charge port went green, followed by the ChargePoint station clicking and delivering power. Turns out the latch was broken, so it was pure luck that the station started charging. We never topped 48kW due to the state of charge, and we charged for 42 minutes to 90%. While PlugShare said this station was a 62kW, the screen said it’s a 50kW -- missing 12kW can make a big difference, but since the battery was over 50% the car wasn’t going to charge faster than 50kW anyway so it was a wash. This stop cost $3.52.
As we are pulling out of the parking lot, the foster texts me and says that she won’t be home before 1pm -- I tell her no problem, we will get lunch and see her at 1. The problem with charging at places like the Pee Dee main office is that there’s no bathrooms available outside their Monday-Friday business hours. Right as we went to leave, the urge to pee hit me. I asked Google for a truck stop and picked a Love’s that was on the way -- a little over an hour out. As we snaked our way into South Carolina and over to I-20, we watched as the sun peeked out of the clouds and the rain seemed to stay behind us. 
The Love’s I’d picked was off of I-20, and before we got there I spied another truck stop that also had a Subway -- this would be ideal for lunch. My husband’s like “Subway? Really?” and I told him that I know I can get something from Subway that won’t upset my stomach (remember I take Ozempic and I basically don’t like the “read meat burps” I get if I eat burgers and such from fast food places anymore). We pulled off at the Pilot travel center and hit the restroom, then walked into the Subway where we each ordered a wrap -- $25 later (when did Subway become so expensive?) we headed to the car to continue our trip. By this time we’d decided, since we were arrive around 12pm, that we’d go to the Electrify America and top the car off so we could drive straight home from the foster’s home.
Unfortunately, the Electrify America in Columbia was in worse shape than Florence -- only one station was operational, but it was running at 150kW. That said, it was in use according to the app when I checked about 20m to the exit. I decided to try the Nissan dealer down the road, seems the station works fine but the NAYAX card reader (ugh, I can’t stand these guys) was problematic and it might take a few tries to get the card to read. The Nissan Dealer is a mile or so from the Electrify America, so if it didn’t work we’d just wait for the person at the Electrify America station to finish and then plug in. As luck would have it, it started raining when we pulled up to the charger. I tried using Google Pay on my phone and it was rejected. By the time I got my wallet from the car, it had timed out so I had to run through the steps to start a charge on the screen again. This time I put in my chip card and it said not authorized. I tried swiping, it said to insert it, I put it in and it said not authorized. Then it timed out, so again I ran through the steps and got to the payment screen and I tapped my card. I got an error and then on a whim stuck the card into the chip reader and volia -- it started processing the payment! Third time’s the charm. The station fired right up, and as we were again around 56% state of charge, it never went above 48kW. We charged for about 42 minutes while we ate our wraps (it was tasty) and then drive the 6 miles to the foster house. The cost was around 42-cents/kWh with a $1 session fee, all said it was $9.39 to charge up here.
Darcy was more beautiful in person than any of the photos I’d seen. Her sister, Dixie, was also way more adorable in person. Dixie is blind, and despite that, she was the more social of the two and came up and head butted my ankle and rubbed on me. Now, my previous cat was blind... and I told the foster I’m really torn now. But we both agreed (tho me not 100%) that our household was way too active for her to adjust to, she panicked when she came into contact with any of the other cats living in the house that were not her sister or their room mate in the quarantined section of the house (a bathroom and a hallway that has a few bedrooms -- all doors closed, of course). Darcy was aloof and not really interested in meeting us or letting us pet her, but the foster said she was confident she’d be affectionate after she had time to settle into her new home.
When we brought in the cat carrier, the foster went and got gloves just in case Darcy decided to claw at her (she said she didn’t have a habit of it, but this was safety protocol). We opened the door to the carrier and low and behold Dixie marched right into it and checked it out. She was not scared of it at all, and then Darcy walked into the carrier behind her to check it out. We were both dumbfounded that the cats just put themselves into the carrier -- no cat likes the carrier! The foster put her gloved hand into the carrier and ushered Dixie out (she never bit, but she did growl), and Darcy never made a sound. Once Dixie was outside, we closed the cage door -- not even quickly, slowly. It wasn’t until the door clicked shut that Darcy’s Siamese yowl started. Oh, boy, this ride home was gonna be fun. It was at this time that the foster tells me the cats ate about an hour and a half before we got there... remember that, dear reader.
We spent well over an hour at the foster home before we loaded Darcy into the car and headed back towards North Carolina. About 10 minutes into the drive -- we’d just gotten onto the highway -- the smell hit. She pooped. In the carrier. Then she sat on the poop. We killed the AC and vented the sunroof and opened most of the windows -- it was sunny and comfortable (low 60s) so this wasn’t bad. Once we went nose blind to the smell, we closed up the windows and turned on the AC just in time for another surprise rain shower! We drove straight home with only one stop to pick up Pho for dinner about 4 miles from our house. When John got back in the car after getting the food he commented on how the nose blindness had worn off, and he gagged a little before rolling down his window.
As soon as we got home, Darcy was taken into her quarantine bathroom and let out of the carrier. I set the carrier outside and shouted “someone please take this carrier outside for me” and proceeded to get a wash cloth and my Lush “Honey I washed the kids” bath gel. Poor Darcy, who only made a few peeps on the drive home, was about to yowl like no tomorrow. I turned on the shower and the sound of water immediately made her start scrambling for a place to hide. I scruffed her (grabbed her by the back of the neck) and took her into the shower. Much to my amazement, she didn’t fight me. The only injury I sustained was a small claw puncture to my pinky finger. This cat can jump, though. She got on the shower seat and about cleared the top of the glass shower door. Once I got her soaked and sudded up, I rinsed her and wrapped her in a towel and dried her off. She never fought me, not once. This is a very good sign about her personality, so I was relieved that the worst was over.
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After the bath, I moved a small cat tree into the bathroom and used it to prop open the sink cabinet and draped a towel over the opening so she had a level of privacy. I set out food and water, and let her be. Luckily she ate the next morning while I was sitting in the room with her, and she used the bathroom the night before in the litterbox. Now we wait for her to settle into her new home, and I can’t wait to see the look on her face when she sees how big this house is.
So there you have it, folks. We went to Columbia SC and back to Raleigh NC for $13 in charging, about 450 miles in total.
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