#humidite

[toutplacid]

Brume et corbeaux à la Bijannière, Eperrais (Orne) – gouache, 8 décembre 2023

[sante-enfants-environnement]

Risques de moisissures à la maison (1/2) 👉 Surveiller et éviter les excès d’humidité

✔️ Aujourd’hui, je vous propose d’aborder le sujet des moisissures dans les habitations, ces moisissures qui émettent des agents préoccupants dans l’air intérieur.

La bonne pratique 💪��� que je souhaite partager avec vous aujourd’hui, elle est directement issue du Guide pratique « Pour une meilleure qualité de l’air dans les lieux accueillant des enfants et adolescents », du ministère en charge de l’Écologie. Et cette bonne pratique, c’est, éviter l’excès d’humidité dans la maison. 🏠

Plus précisément, le guide quantifie cette bonne pratique, en fournissant une fourchette de référence ; il recommande de « maintenir une humidité acceptable (30-60%) dans les pièces de vie ». 💧

Cette humidité relative, elle peut être surveillée avec un hygromètre ; on en trouve dans le commerce. Et cette mesure, ça peut être un bon point de départ, au moins dans les pièces à enjeux, car un excès d’humidité favorise l’apparition et le développement de moisissures, qui se trouvent souvent dans les logements. Par exemple, en France, l’Agence nationale de sécurité sanitaire de l'alimentation, de l'environnement et du travail (Anses) estime qu’entre 14 et 20 % des logements présentent des moisissures visibles. 🏘️

[2t2r]

La bruineuse cascade de Skógafoss

Nouvel article publié sur https://www.2tout2rien.fr/la-bruineuse-cascade-de-skogafoss/

La bruineuse cascade de Skógafoss

[rainbowsprinks92]

I walked out of my yoga class last night to feel that the Miami air is finally cooling down, and I swear -- all feels right in the world again

[marshroom580]

what if...instead of killing the dragon you love it so much it changes the entire narrative

[threadbearsweater]

lemonade | rafayel, love and deepspace

you're the neglected wife of a financial mogul, left to your own devices for weeks at a time while your husband is away on business. rafayel is the cute, much younger maintenance man who takes care of your pool. it's been a long time since you've felt the touch of a man, and rafayel is eager to change that.

tags: female reader. age gap- rafayel is in his early 20's, reader is in her late 30's; reader and her husband are financially blessed (they're rich asf); infidelity and the guilt that comes with it; cunnilingus, making out, overstimulation, dacryphilia if you squint. 3.9k words (i don't know what happened)

Your husband comes to bed hours after you retire most nights, and is long gone before you even open your eyes most mornings, leaving only the scent of his aftershave and expensive cologne hanging in your bedroom. He’s always sure to leave a kiss somewhere– on your shoulder, your cheek, your forehead. It’s sweet and tender, sure. He’s sentimental like that in a morbid sort of way; what if it’s the last time he’ll see you, and one of you has to go the rest of your life without the other, knowing that there wasn’t some sort of affectionate exchange when you last saw each other? 

You wish with all your heart that he would wake you to make love. Or that he would– at the very least–  sit down to have dinner with you once in a while before you slide his plate into the microwave and ready yourself for bed. Of course you love him, and you know that he loves you; the lack of intimacy, however, makes you stir crazy, worried, agitated. You knew when you married him that much of your life would be spent without him, but it doesn’t change the fact that you began to feel neglected and forgotten. No amount of money he could spend on you could ever make up for the basic biological need to be touched, to be loved. To feel desired. To know that your husband– the man you promised yourself to so many years ago– wanted you for more than just a sense of security and a pretty face waiting for him to come back home.

This morning was no different from any other. You wake slowly and pull the silk sleep mask from your eyes to find that it’s already past nine. You curse yourself silently for sleeping longer than you intended and slip out of bed to open the blinds. There’s already a sultry summer haze that seems to have settled in, making everything appear out of focus when you look out across the expanse of your property. Nothing moves to indicate that there’s a breeze of any kind at all. You sigh and stretch your arms above your head, deciding that today will be a pool day. 

The pool was dug last spring as an anniversary gift, and your husband spared no expense in creating a little slice of paradise for you to enjoy. You had hoped it meant he would spend a little more time at home with you, but so far he’s only been swimming in it once. You, on the other hand, enjoy it almost daily in the warmer months. Alone, most of the time, excepting the periodic presence of a groundskeeper, your cleaning lady, or the pool maintenance guy. 

You're expecting to be alone today, so after breakfast you choose one of your more revealing swimsuits and a sheer coverup, figuring you’ll work on a nice, sun-kissed glow while enjoying the controlled temperature of the water. You bring a book, some tanning oil, and a few snacks to avoid having to return to the house until you’re sun and chlorine soaked enough to satiate yourself for a little while. The poured concrete patio is already hot, so you tiptoe across barefoot quickly, your steps punctuated by little exclamations (“ooh! ouch! shit!”) as you make your way poolside. The cool water is a balm as you lower yourself in, breathing a sigh of relief before treading out into the middle of the pool.

For a little while you float with your face turned toward the sky. The sun isn’t quite directly overhead, but it’s late enough in the morning that you feel the heat on your skin, the humidity already heavy in the air. You breathe, you relax. You take in the moment, appreciating it for what it is, and vow to make your husband swim with you when he comes home this weekend.

You spend a little time in the water, then a little time reading, snacking, and sunning yourself on a patio lounge chair. It’s peaceful and easy, and since you don’t really have any other plans for the day, you let yourself enjoy the leisure and luxury without worrying about the time. At some point while reading, you drift off to sleep like a cat on a sunbeam, warm and content.

~

“Madam?” 

You blink awake and frown, a little disoriented to see someone else’s face so close to yours– a relatively unfamiliar one, at that. Instinct tells you to push away this person who intrudes upon your personal space, so you shove your palm against his nose and sit up quickly. The culprit yelps in pain, his own hands flying to his face and pushing yours away.

“Hey, what was that for? I was just trying to wake you up so you don’t get overheated out here.” His voice is a bit nasal and hollow sounding from where he has his hands cupped around his nose, but you recognize him immediately once you’re fully awake and coherent.

You apologize profusely. “Rafayel! I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize it was you!” You cover his hands with yours and pull them away from his handsome face, scanning for any damage you might have done. Thankfully, all looks well, except that maybe his nose is a bit red, but that could also be from sun exposure. He rubs it and pouts, almost as if he wants you to believe that you did indeed hurt him. “You don’t usually come on Thursdays. I wasn’t expecting anyone else to be here today.”

Rafayel has been taking care of pool maintenance for you since the beginning of this year. Your other maintenance guy was a local university student, and when he graduated and moved on, your husband hired Rafayel to take his place. He’s been a reliable employee so far, hardworking and trustworthy; not to mention, he’s easy on the eyes, and you’d shrivel up with embarrassment if he knew how many mornings you spent admiring him from the kitchen window. 

He gestures toward the enclosure where most of the pool mechanics are hidden. “Needed to change one of the filters I didn’t have with me last time I was here. I was at your neighbor’s house this morning and figured I’d stop here too.” 

“Well thank you.” You rub your eyes and yawn, shielding your eyes as you squint up at the sky. “How long was I out?”

Rafayel shrugs and perches on the side of your lounge chair, resting his elbows on his knees. He wipes a sheen of sweat from his forehead. “Couldn’t say. I’ve only been here for like, ten minutes? And you’ve been asleep the whole time.”

You lean down to grab your cover-up that fell onto the patio at some point during your little cat nap. Rafayel swoops down to grab it first and hands it to you with a cheeky smile. You thank him and slip it over your head; if you didn’t know any better, you’d think you saw a shadow of disappointment pass through his gaze, but it’s gone before you can be sure. 

“Don’t let me keep you from your work,” you tell him, gathering the rest of your things. “I’m sure you have other things to do this afternoon besides save old housewives from heat stroke.” The latter part of your statement is very tongue-in-cheek. You certainly don’t see yourself as old, but you do have a few years on Rafayel.

He scoffs and stands up, offering a hand to you, which you accept. “Please.” He calls you by your married name, and you correct him to use your first name instead. He says it very deliberately then, and you watch the way his mouth forms, his eyes fixed on your face so intently it makes you feel warm down to your chest. “I’ll change the filter and be out of your hair in no time.”

“At least stay and get a drink before you go,” you insist. Rafayel raises an eyebrow. “What do you like? Lemonade? Iced tea?” You’re already stepping backwards toward the house, feeling buoyant, giddy. The way he smiles, the way his pretty eyes shine as he stands there in the sun stirs something almost foreign in your belly. Something you haven’t felt in months– perhaps even years. It’s almost overpowered by a gnawing sense of guilt, but you rationalize it as just a harmless flirtation. Some silly, girlish feelings brought about by the temporary rise of your body temperature from laying in the sun too long. You explain it away in your head, waiting for Rafayel to stop looking at you like he wants to say something other than what he likes to drink.

“Lemonade,” he says slowly, stepping toward you, keenly aware of how the sleeve of your sheer cover-up has fallen off your shoulder. It feels scandalous for him to witness your bare shoulder with nothing but the strap of your bikini between him and the softness that beckons. He’s thankful for the sun that has kissed his cheeks peony pink because it hides the flush he feels when he wonders how you smell. If he could just–

“Great! I’ll get you a glass while you get the filter changed. Shouldn’t take long, right?” You smile brightly at him and retreat as fast as you can into your house, closing the sliding glass door with a shuddering sigh before slumping against the wall to calm yourself. Your heart flutters. An anxious energy seems to bubble up from your throat and you giggle in spite of yourself, covering your mouth as if someone is going to overhear. 

Outside, Rafayel blows out a long, cool breath and goes about the business of changing the pool filter with trembling hands. He doesn’t want to overstep, but he can’t deny the way he feels when you look at him. He thinks it’s a damn shame that your husband works so much and misses out on seeing you every day. Whether you’re lounging by the pool, wrapped up in one of your books, chatting with friends on the phone, or otherwise keeping yourself entertained, he finds you beautiful in ways that put girls his own age to shame. And you’re all alone in this sprawling house with no one to talk to. He’s doing you a favor by showing up unexpectedly. 

The air conditioning kicks on just as Rafayel slides the door open to find you at the kitchen counter, mixing a fresh batch of lemonade. You offer him a seat at the counter. “So you’ve already been to the neighbor’s house?” you ask, trying so hard to come across as though you don’t have a reason for asking. Pure curiosity, that’s all. Polite conversation.

“Yep. I’m free for the rest of the day,” he says with a stretch and a satisfied sort of groan, leaning onto the counter as if he owns the place. He rests his chin in his hands and watches you taste the lemonade, wondering if you know how cute you look when you wrinkle your nose at the tartness. You add a couple more teaspoons of sugar and mix again, meeting his adoring gaze and feeling suddenly shy.

“What are you going to do? Any fun plans?” You taste again, satisfied this time with the sweetness, then pour a glass for Rafayel. As you pass it to him, he reaches for it at the same time. His fingers glide over yours and you gasp. Rafayel looks at you, and something passes between the two of you that feels like a live wire. You draw your hand away quickly– too quickly– and the glass topples over on the counter, lemonade lost.

“Oh!” You scramble for a paper towel, forgetting where you keep them in your panic. Rafayel is quick to help, noticing a roll of them on another stretch of countertop behind you. He grabs them as you’re using your hand as a dam to stop the stream of lemonade from carving a path to the floor. He steps in directly behind you and slaps down a fold of paper towels, and they soak up the mess on the counter immediately.

You know he probably didn’t mean to step so close, but his chest is against your back and his breath tickles the side of your neck. He huffs out a laugh– he sounds just as breathless as you feel, though you chalk it up to panic about the spill more than anything else. 

“Sorry. I’m so clumsy,” you say, silently willing your heart to beat just a little bit slower.

“Nah, you’re okay. Accidents happen.” His voice is so close to your ear you’d swear he was inside your head. He wipes the mess away, then takes your hand, leading you to the sink to rinse it off. He’s tender and deliberate, taking meticulous care to lather the soap so there’s no sticky residue left on your skin.

“Thanks,” you tell him, your face positively on fire. “You should, ah– you don’t have to stay if you don’t want to.” You reach for a hand towel and dry yourself quickly. 

Rafayel looks offended. “You sure? I’d hate for you to have another accident and there’s no one to help you clean it up,” he teases.

It makes you laugh in spite of yourself. “I’ll be fine,” you insist. “I’m sure you have friends waiting. It’s a beautiful day. Go, take advantage of it.”

Feeling bold, Rafayel steps closer to you again and lifts your chin so that you have to look at him. You’ve never noticed before the depth of color in his eyes– iridescent, incandescent. He is mischievous and devious all at once, and it would take a real idiot to not see what he very clearly has in mind when he steps so close to you that you could count his lashes. He begins to call you by your married name again, but you stop him with a whispered plea. 

So he says your first name– deliberate, slower still than when he said it before. His lips are so close to yours that they touch when he speaks. “May I kiss you?”

Whatever happened in the moments leading up to this one leaves you speechless, searching for the reason that you’re standing here in the middle of your kitchen– the one that you custom designed with your husband, purchased and decorated with his money– kissing the years younger man who maintains your pool. If you try too hard to rationalize it, you’ll never forgive yourself as long as you live.

Oh, his lips are impossibly soft. Silk and gentle heat, breath that tastes faintly of bubble gum, a clever tongue that slips between your lips and over the sharp edges of your teeth while his arm threads around your waist to draw you closer. Your body seems to move of its own volition; you slide a hand across the back of his neck and comb your nails up through his hair, and he moans so unabashedly it almost makes you laugh.

You’re first to break the kiss; breathless, reeling, you weakly paw at his chest, and when you don’t meet his penetrating gaze, he lifts your chin again and speaks so earnestly to you that you wonder if he’s said these words before to some other lonely housewife whose husband also left her alone too often. “This…doesn’t have to mean anything.” He brushes his knuckles across your cheek and you lean into his touch, seeking, cat-like. “Just let me make you feel good.”

You shove the guilt aside. If it’s wrong to feel desired, you don’t want to be right. Not right now. Not with Rafayel kissing along the graceful column of your neck, his hands already wandering underneath your little cover-up to knead the soft, supple curve of your hip and the round of your ass. You let him touch you, and you soak it all in like the desperate, affection deprived woman you are. 

Rafayel is fascinated with you, and you feel it with every slide of his warm skin against yours. He traces a path across your cheek and along your jaw with just the tip of his nose; he blinks, and his eyelashes whisper against you while his fingers fan out across the side of your neck. You grow bold and curious enough to lift the hem of his shirt, sighing into his mouth when your fingers trace the toned contour of his abs, the subtle indentations between ribs when he sucks in a breath at the onset of your touch. He kisses you as if to devour you. You kiss him back with the same fervor, and when he reaches to grab the back of your thighs, you let him lift you. Arms linked around his neck, legs squeezing his waist, he asks you between kisses, where is your room?

Down the hall, you murmur, fingers in his hair, lips on his brow. Second door on the left.

He carries you there, and when he kicks the door shut and lays you out on the bed, he looks at you with a reverence that nearly brings you to tears. With painstakingly slow movements, he peels away each piece of your swimsuit, breathing out in wonder as he studies each curve of your body. “So beautiful,” he whispers, kneeling on the floor in front of where you lie.

A younger version of you would have played coy. Perhaps you wouldn’t have been as confident in how your body appeared to an attractive man who wanted nothing more than to take you apart in the most carnal sense of the word. But as you lie there under his watchful gaze, as you feel his beautiful mouth tracing a path from the arch of your foot to your knee, to your thigh, you know you’re beautiful. You feel beautiful. You feel like a goddess of the highest order. And Rafayel has most certainly helped you feel that way.

So you whisper a thanks that turns into a satisfied sigh when his hands press you open and you feel the tip of his tongue between your folds. Rafayel groans and presses his open mouth to you, his grip on your thighs strong and sure. You link your ankles across his shoulders and bury your hands in the softness of his hair again, making sure that he doesn’t move farther than you want (need) him. 

And like the giver he is, he stays there. Shirtless, his pretty face buried in your cunt, strong hands pressing your legs open to keep you pliant for him. He’s so desperately turned on for you that his hips rut into the side of the mattress. He releases one of your legs to reach down and stroke himself when the need becomes too great.

He’s good with his tongue, even better with the suction of his mouth when he draws your clit between his lips. You ride the waves of your pleasure, kneading the soft flesh of your own tits, lifting your hips to press yourself further into his mouth when he moans for you. It’s been so long since you’ve felt the touch of another that you’d forgotten what it was like. Your toys worked well when the need became too great to bear, but they were nothing compared to this. 

Rafayel pulls back to gaze up at you, chin and lips shining with evidence of you. The loss of him makes you whimper and scoot toward him. “I just wanted to look at you for a minute,” he says with that teasing lilt in his voice that you’ll never quite get used to. “Do you still need me to touch you?” 

You’re not above begging– not in this state. So you ask him, please, to touch you, that you’re almost there, just a little more. He laughs through his nose and slides two fingers inside you, marvelling at the sticky, wet sounds your body makes for him. He curves those fingers once he’s inside and you arch so pretty for him that he thinks he’s going to lose his mind. 

“Mouth, Rafayel. Need– neetd y–” You can hardly form a coherent thought, let alone actual spoken words.

He gets a kick out of that, but keeps those fingers moving, slow and steady, really enjoying the way your body seems to suck him in. “You need my mouth, cutie? Is that what you want to say?”

You nod. Oh, please. Please yes, and he nudges your clit with his nose before sucking it back in his mouth. You cum with lightning intensity, both the penetration and the stimulation entirely overwhelming. Your vision goes white, your breathing ragged and hoarse. Rafayel, like the good samaritan he is, grips your thighs like a vice to keep you open so he can drag his face through the silky softness of your climax, overstimulating you to the precipice of madness. You try in vain to push his head away, but he won’t be moved.

“Need to clean up this mess,” he says. His face glistens with your pleasure, and you think you’ve never seen him more beautiful.

Vaguely aware of a tear that runs down your temple to rest in one of the folds of your ear, you lie back and let him take care of you. The aftershock of your orgasm dies away eventually, though the muscles in your thighs twitch involuntarily until he decides he’s finally satisfied with his work and crawls up to lie beside you. 

Neither of you say a word for a long time. You let him hold you until your heartbeat returns to normal. He rubs your back in long, slow strokes, and you cup his face in your hands, tracing the strong line of his jaw, hsi gentle brow, the delicate fan of his eyelashes. 

“We don’t have to tell anyone,” he says, as if he can read your mind. “You just seemed so lonely today. More than usual, I mean.”

You scoff a little, though you know what he says is obvious. “More than usual? Do I really mope around here that much?”

He shrugs and shifts a little to lie back, pulling your hand across his chest. “I’m only here once a week, but you always look so sad. You were practically begging to be kissed today.”

That makes you laugh, and you give him a playful shove. “You’re one to talk.”

“Oh, so you’ve thought about it before?” He quirks a brow and turns his head to look at you.

Busted. “Maybe once or twice. But we can’t–” You sigh. The damage has already been done, if you can call it that. You’re the unfaithful wife. A literal stereotype. There’s no way you can rationalize it to yourself. “We shouldn’t have done this.”

Rafayel hums, tracing his fingertips up and down your arm. “But did you like it?”

You nod before you can overthink it. Your body still pulses with arousal, despite knowing you should be feeling anything but. “I really did.”

“Me too,” he says. “So, if it happens again, is it really so bad?”

You decide that it really isn’t so bad, especially when your husband calls later that evening to tell you he won’t be home this weekend after all. 

[makoodles]

I like you, so please let me write down this goofy idea I had.

So two best friends, he na'vi, she's human.

Been bestie since childhood, always together, even if both parents weren't happy about it.

Her parents didn't like she picked out so many "animalistic" traits from the na'vis and didn't like her staying in the forest all day basically half naked.

His parents didn't like because, well she was a demon, that it.

They didn't care, they were friends no matter what.

During the years, he began to grown feelings for her, and he started noticing how boys were around her.

They were flirty with her, with his human.

And jealousy started bulding up slowly inside of him.

He hated how guys would have look at her, searched for the naked points in her body, chatting and touching her arms and hands in the meanwhile.

But what he was supposed to do? Being toxic and possesive? About a girl that wasn't even his? He didn't certely wanted to ruin anything they had.

So? He sucked it up.

She was so done with him.

She had feelings for him since the day her period came at 11, it was a rainy day the day before, so the forest was still a little bit humidit.

He noticed the blood, and quickly made a sort of diaper with leaves for her.

Then he rushed her to hell gates, only to be laughed by all the adults.

Always so caring for her, no matter what, so sweet and innocent.

How could she not fall for him?

She knew he proved the same, when he saw how boys looked at her, he looked the same way she looked when na'vi girls talked or touched him.

Jealousy.

One day as they were out in the forest, they were hunting down a little animal, so his siblings back home could eat their favourite meat.

'so caring of him going on a hunt only for his little siblings, he would be such a good dad I'm sure' she thinks

' so caring of her, coming with me on this boring hunt, although she loves see my siblings happy, she would be such a good mom' he thinks

As they walk, the trope of love is being put in their conversation.

His parents want him to find a mate before his 24 year of life, her parents - especially her dad - don't want her to go near a boy, let alone having a husband.

And In some ways the trope about guys being flirty with her comes.

He becomes tense and his mood change, and she starts to get annoyed at him.

She is so frustrated that she says "you are blind by jealousy, you don't see i have love only for you"

It takes a few seconds for they both realise what she said.

And then starts a long conversation, the animal they were traking at this point had a family on it own.

They relationship evols, now they are together but in secret.

He spents all day making gift with his siblings for her, using the excuse they only wanted to make it for her, which was also true.

She spent all day learing long poems, telling them to him when she saw him, making him fell even harder.

Their first kiss is in her room, they were doing absolute nothing, talking about everything and nothing.

Then he kissed her, the kiss was sweet and calm.

And stoped only when he had to take a breath of the pandorian air.

They kissed many times afterwards-

And one day, they programmed their first time.

No special occasion, not the day the got together or the day the first kissed.

Not one of their birthdays or one of their favourite milestones.

A simple day of april.

They place was decided to be inside hell gates, were she could breath without problems, and he anyway only had to breath pandorian air every 2 or so minutes.

She jokes that by that time they would have already finished, and he felled of the branch they were on when she told him the joke.

Finding it so funny he almost broke his head.

No one was there that day, there was a celebration at the village and all humans were invited.

They all got there, but not those two.

She said she felt a little of a cold coming and preferred staying home for the day.

He said he would have go to listen in another place, far from his family, he was now an adult he couldn't possibly stay anymore with his family during this ceremonies.

She made him sneak in.

They read all they could -she did, he couldn't read- about sex and first times.

And in some web there was the hint that, showering first would lube and hurted less.

So she took a shower, and he watched.

Admiring her naked body for the first time, every cut and scratch were made with him.

Every little hair on her body, made him excited.

Every little mark of beauty or not - even if for him all marks on her were beautiful- made him want to kiss them.

He help her hop in the shower, and watch as she carefully put soap on her.

For then to flush under the water.

She jokingly put her mouth under the sources of water, who felled in her mouth.

Like she was drinking raining water from the leaves of plants in the forest.

He joined too, playinfully.

Until their tongues met under the water, and they started this passionate kiss.

He pick her up, she was still wet and had barely anytime to stop the water.

He directed them to her bedroom, where he place her in her bed, kissing every inch of her body.

Every mark, cut, scratch and tiny hair.

"You sure you wanna do this here? Is also you virginity" she said and he looked at her lovely, loving how she was worried for him and how she only wanted to make him comfortable too.

"Yes, my love" he said before kissing down her entrance.

Starting licking and sucking, he had no idea of what he was doing but her pretty moans told him to continue.

Pulling away from that sweetness that was her, was almost killing for him.

A breath in and a breath out.

She kissed him, and he made her taste herself thanks to his tongue.

A big breath from both of them.

And it was in.

Half not fully.

Still blood came out and he felt himself choke down there.

The movements came only after a while.

Poor her, taking such a big size and having to adjust quickly.

Even if for him, they had all the time in the world she was worried someone might have caught them.

She was worried that if they were caught, he would have been hated by the clan.

Her paranoia speaked.

Seeing her struggling, he kissed her hands, breaths, face, ears, everything he could kiss (without causing her to much unnecessary pain) was kissed.

Every praise that come in his mind too.

" You doing the best love " "look at you taking me so well, i love you " "im all yours" " mmh...you are so good, you are doing so good thank you my love " " such a good little thing " "i see you"

After finishing, he kissed her more.

Doing the famous after care, who she like much apperntly.

Then, carefully always carefully, he pick her up and go back to the bathroom, were he showered her.

Making her stay still even if her legs wanted to get down.

Because he knew he had to make sure they wouldn't have been caught.

He made her dress back.

Clean after what they did and then made her lay down on the bed, before going she asked for a kiss, which he happily gave.

"You are mine and I'm yours"

So what do you think? This is silly.

this is so pure oh my god 😭

the childhood friends to lovers trope! AHHHH so so cute, i literally can't 🥺 the whole step by step through their relationship 😭

[electronicshopping]

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[kumarinstruments123]

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[apollo-labtech]

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Reliable Quality Assurance Testing: For industries such as electronics, pharmaceuticals, and materials science, maintaining product quality is paramount. Humidity Testing Chambers enable rigorous quality assurance testing by subjecting products to controlled humidity levels, helping identify potential weaknesses and vulnerabilities before they reach the market.

Evaluation of Material Durability: Testing the impact of humidity on materials is crucial for assessing long-term durability. Humidity Testing Chambers facilitate accelerated aging tests, allowing researchers to evaluate how different materials, coatings, and finishes respond to humidity over time, aiding in the development of more robust and durable products.

Customizable Testing Parameters: Humidity Testing Chambers offer a high degree of customization in testing parameters. Researchers can precisely control humidity levels, temperature, and exposure times, tailoring the testing conditions to match specific industry standards or environmental scenarios relevant to the intended product use.

Detection of Corrosion and Degradation: In industries where corrosion is a concern, such as automotive and aerospace, Humidity Testing Chambers prove invaluable. These chambers create conditions that accelerate corrosion processes, allowing researchers to detect potential issues early and implement preventive measures to enhance product longevity.

Enhanced Product Development and Innovation: By providing a controlled environment for humidity testing, these chambers contribute to product development and innovation. Researchers can experiment with different materials and formulations, ensuring that new products can withstand the challenges posed by high humidity levels in real-world scenarios.

Compliance with Industry Standards: Many industries have stringent standards and regulations related to product performance under various environmental conditions. Humidity Testing Chambers help businesses ensure compliance with these standards, fostering consumer confidence and preventing costly product recalls.

Identification of Weaknesses in Seals and Enclosures: Products designed to be sealed or enclosed, such as electronic devices or medical equipment, must undergo rigorous testing to ensure their resistance to humidity. Humidity Testing Chambers pinpoint weaknesses in seals and enclosures,Climate Control Chamber preventing potential failures and malfunctions in the field.

Optimization of Storage and Packaging Conditions: Humidity Testing Chambers assist in optimizing storage and packaging conditions for products sensitive to humidity. By understanding how products react to different humidity levels, businesses can implement effective packaging solutions that maintain product integrity throughout the supply chain.

Cost Savings through Early Issue Detection: Detecting issues related to humidity early in the development or quality control process can result in significant cost savings. Humidity Testing Chambers help identify potential problems before mass production, reducing the risk of costly recalls and warranty claims.

In conclusion, Humidity Testing Chambers are essential instruments for industries striving for precision, reliability, and product resilience. From quality assurance testing to accelerated aging studies, these chambers play a pivotal role in ensuring that products can withstand the challenges posed by humidity, contributing to the overall success and longevity of diverse products in the market.

[stephanetherrien]

https://jardinierparesseux.com/2023/12/17/les-meilleures-facons-augmenter-humidite-pour-nos-plantes-interieur/

[naturecpw]

Croton (Codiaeum variegatum ‘Petra) Croton plants love sunlight! Croton plants develop their best colors when grown in bright light. It will need to be watered deeply every week, but you may need to increase watering if you notice any wilting.

Croton Plant Care: Everything You Need to Know

Indoor vs. Outdoor Growing, Varieties, & More

The primary challenge with croton plant care indoors is maintaining the ideal temperature. If it is too cold, the plant will start losing leaves. However, crotons are well worth the effort for the explosion of color they can provide in a space. Other croton plant benefits (and houseplant benefits in general) include cleaning the air, adding humidity to a space, and improving mood and productivity.

Sun Exposure Full, partial

Soil Type Moist, well-drained

Croton Plant Care

The trick to take care of a croton plant is to provide steady warmth. A well-grown croton plant keeps its leaves down to the soil level. Even croton plants outdoors drop leaves after a cold night. Croton plants also need sun to maintain their vibrant leaf colors.

When caring for a croton plant indoors, low humidity can make the plant particularly susceptible to spider mites. Mist your plants daily to help avoid an infestation. Crotons can be brought outdoors in warm weather, as long as they are properly acclimated to the light and temperature conditions.

Croton plants indoors typically should be placed by your brightest window. A quality potting mix that drains efficiently should suffice. Make sure they're protected from drafts around windows and doors, as well as air-conditioning vents.

Light

Croton plants need a fair amount of sun. Bright, indirect light is best. Some croton plant varieties don't tolerate unfiltered, direct sun as well as others, but they will thrive in dappled sunlight. If the plant is getting insufficient sun, the leaves will turn green.

Water

Keep croton plants evenly moist in the summer. Crotons need about 1 inch of water per week. Reduce watering in the winter to biweekly. Watch the plant for signs that it needs more water, such as wilting young foliage. Increase watering if the wilting noticeably happens during hot weather, but check the top couple of inches of soil with a finger for moisture before you increase water. If it's still moist, hold off on watering. Mist frequently during the growth period.

Soil

A well-drained, moist soil that has been enriched with compost is ideal. This plant prefers humus-rich, acidic soil.

[sante-enfants-environnement]

Risques de moisissures à la maison 👉 Surveiller et éviter les excès d’humidité

✔️ Aujourd’hui, je vous propose d’aborder le sujet des moisissures dans les habitations, ces moisissures qui émettent des agents préoccupants dans l’air intérieur.

La bonne pratique 💪🏼 que je souhaite partager avec vous aujourd’hui, elle est directement issue du Guide pratique « Pour une meilleure qualité de l’air dans les lieux accueillant des enfants et adolescents », du ministère en charge de l’Écologie. Et cette bonne pratique, c’est, éviter l’excès d’humidité dans la maison. 🏠

Plus précisément, le guide quantifie cette bonne pratique, en fournissant une fourchette de référence ; il recommande de « maintenir une humidité acceptable (30-60%) dans les pièces de vie ». 💧

Cette humidité relative, elle peut être surveillée avec un hygromètre ; on en trouve dans le commerce. Et cette mesure, ça peut être un bon point de départ, au moins dans les pièces à enjeux, car un excès d’humidité favorise l’apparition et le développement de moisissures, qui se trouvent souvent dans les logements. Par exemple, en France, l’Agence nationale de sécurité sanitaire de l'alimentation, de l'environnement et du travail (Anses) estime qu’entre 14 et 20 % des logements présentent des moisissures visibles. 🏘️

#moisissures

#humidite

#humidité

[2t2r]

Hill House, un magnifique manoir écossais protégé de la pluie par une cotte de mailles [vidéo]

Nouvel article publié sur https://www.2tout2rien.fr/hill-house-manoir-ecossais-cotte-de-mailles/

Hill House, un magnifique manoir écossais protégé de la pluie par une cotte de mailles [vidéo]