#i can write messages in holiday/birthday cards. i could send letters to friends

[carcarrot]

guy who is so bad at writing letters voice hey maybe i should write this person a letter

[lgcnayoung]

     it’s an unfortunate reality that idols–or really, anyone in the public eye–of opposite genders are not encouraged to interact out in the open, if not downright prohibited, lest rumors start spreading that “something” is going on. not to mention, it’s even hard for people who are genuinely just friends to interact without someone assuming they could be more, which is why haru has always made an effort to meet up with or talk to his friends who also happen to be girls in private, or somewhere he knows he won’t be caught - like backstage at a shared event or something where it was inevitable that they’d be near each other.

     that’s why when he decides to send nayoung a gift for her birthday coming up, his thought is no different. he still makes sure to wrap her gift (a white and purple cat plushie and another purple cat plushie because he was indecisive as hell between the two and wasn’t sure which she’d prefer more, okay!) nicely–albeit in giftwrap he found that makes the box look like a block of cheese but he thought she’d find it funny–before placing it in a regular packing box along with a birthday card so that at least this way, it’ll look unassuming to the outside eye.

     he even went through the effort of getting the nova dorm address from his manager after promising he wasn’t asking so he could visit himself; he was just going to send a package. it took a bit of convincing but he managed to get it somehow so he wasn’t going to waste this chance, even if truthfully, a part of him deep down was so nervous.

     it’s not that he doesn’t buy gifts for others, whether it be for their birthday or a holiday or even to treat someone because he’s apparently in a position where he can do that now, but something about doing this for nayoung felt different; more nerve-wracking, even. but since he’s already bought everything and it was all prepared, he had no reason to not send the package - so after hyping himself up a lot, he quickly sends it off without giving himself a second thought or chance to take it back.

to. nayounghappy birthday! and congrats on your recent comeback!! was your first birthday as a debuted idol fun? crazy? weird? ㅋㅋ i could probably just message you to ask but it seemed more fun this way lol plus i’m sending this before the 16th so it can be delivered to you on the day of but if it arrives late, it’s not my fault, okay?! i tried my best!honestly, i wasn’t sure what you might want or need right now but people like plushies right…? but i couldn’t decide which one to get you so… if you don’t want either, i still have the receipts so i can return it and get you something else ㅋㅋ but i do hope you like it! if not, please go easy on me :’)i hope your birthday was good and that this upcoming year will be good to you too [a drawing of a smiley face cat and thumb up: 😺👍]- haru

whoever sends her a package that looks like a cheese block really has nayoung questioning what this is, but it’s…. it’s effective in getting her attention. hopefully it didn’t have cheese inside!? and since it is already the eve of her birthday, she has some time for herself as she digs into the package and unwraps it slowly, to unwrap it into… another box! “what could this be?”

there’s a card sitting right there, and while the temptation is there to dig into the box first, she really should read the letter first. and hopefully it’s a note that actually has writing it because… genuinely, nayoung doesn’t like it when a letter simply says, “dear ___, from ____”, something that bugged her mom that also passed down to nayoung herself. pleasantly surprised, the letter is not empty, and her mouth is pursed as she slowly reads it. 

oh drat, she should’ve opened the package first because it did mention what he got, but it’s okay, it was vague at best. plushies, huh! hopefully they weren’t something she didn’t like, but haru knew her well anyway so they likely would be alright… it’d be rude to ask for a return receipt but if she really didn’t like it, nayoung wouldn’t hesitate to tell him to exchange it so…. hopefully it wouldn’t get to that point.

setting the note aside, nayoung’s glad she’s opening this quietly on her own because she probably looks so silly right now, so excited like a little child but hey, it was only her birthday once a year, right?! and it makes a difference when it’s coming from someone that’s close to her. after opening the lid to the box, she buries her hands to her face, gasping at first then laughing, because one of them looked rather… odd, but cute ( impressionable. yes yes. ) and the other was very typically cute, both in shades of purple. she loves them. she’s going to stick them on her pillows. they even fit her decor. squishing them in her palm and against her face, she snaps a quick picture with the two and sends it off to haru. 

[ sns ➪ ☀️ ] I GOT IT!!!!! [ sns ➪ ☀️ ] where are the return receipts, you’re going to need them…[ sns ➪ ☀️ ] i’m just kidding! thank you haru TTT—-TTT you remembered meee hehehehe  [ sns ➪ ☀️ ] what’s with… the cheese though 

[reginacooks]

Day 365. The End.

I’ve decided to make cheesecake as a send-off to this blog. I cannot think of any good reason why cheesecake should not be the cake-of-celebration for having reached my goal of creating something delicious every day for one year. Cheesecake was my sister’s favorite, and she died a year ago in March, bypassing a global pandemic by one week. Every memory I have of the countless celebrations in her home include a cheesecake. Cheesecake was my father’s favorite. He grew up on New York-style cheesecake, and he made sure my mother had a Lindy’s Cheesecake recipe when they married in 1963. My mother made good on her promise to feed him with love, and cheesecake. My mother’s birthday was in March. She taught me how to make a cheesecake using her large, ceramic mixing bowl in our kitchen in Ohio. I cannot think of cheesecake without thinking of my mother. The pandemic started in March and brought us to another March. All roads lead us to cheesecake. 

One week into the pandemic and toilet-paper humor, I decided I would use the next 365 days to cook and bake, and write about it. Aside from a few months when yeast was sparse, we lacked for nothing, including toilet paper. Unbelievably, and faster than I thought one year could pass, I have reached the end of my goal. I needed a thing to grab on to at the start of this pandemic, something separate from teaching. True, I was tired at the end of some days and faced this goal reluctantly. Or worse, there was a day when I’d already gone to bed. I closed my eyes then moments later remembered my blog. But I dragged myself to the couch and sitting position anyway. Not long ago, after watching a family movie, it was close to midnight and I said to my kids, “My blog!” Ethan sat nearby. “Quick mom! It’s ten minutes to midnight. You can do it!” I shared some pictures and words of the food I’d made that day and at 11:57, clicked on “Post.” Mostly I felt like I was writing into a black void, then unexpectedly a friend would email or text indicating they were reading these posts. I was glad someone was reading, but I guess that wasn’t the point. All along I knew I was doing this for me, to brighten my days and bring on a spot of joy.  

The cooking, baking, recipe searches, taking pictures, and writing helped to define my life this year. I’ve thought a lot about why the act of cooking and baking is important to me, too. Once, many years ago, a couple of friends were on a road trip and they stopped at our home for dinner. That night I happened to be making pasta with cauliflower and tomato sauce, garlic and cheddar cheese, a pretty standard week-night meal in our house. They dug into that food like it was their last drop of sustenance on the long journey ahead, even though they were only traveling by minivan from one state to the next. They exclaimed and wanted the recipe and so thoroughly enjoyed that simple fare, it seemed as if it had been many moons since they’d eaten a homemade meal. Making dinner that night, I would never have anticipated their reaction to it.    

I think about the times I’ve been fed by others. A long time ago, for one year, I worked in a school in Highwood, Illinois, an old town with a large Italian population. The secretary of my school was a short, slight-framed, older Italian woman with whom I had a special connection. She had worked at the school for maybe her entire career. I complained to Vera once about the reading curriculum in first grade that didn’t use real children’s literature. Same old story. I hinted that I was going to talk to the principal about it. This was my first teaching job and she warned me against that. I’ll never forget her words. “You don’t talk about books to someone who doesn’t read.” She came into my room once as I was reading a story aloud to my students, and she paused to listen. Later she told me I was “the real deal.” Ah, to be seen by another person. Even if only briefly. 

Vera and her husband were making pasta dumplings, she told me one day, and she’d like to have me over for lunch. When I went across the street and knocked on their side door, I entered their kitchen where they were filling dumplings with cheese and meat, trays of fresh pasta, dough, and flour spread out on the small kitchen table. The scene was intimate and homey, as traditional as any holy ritual, and I was invited to pull up a chair. It was the first time I’d eaten homemade pasta and I remember it still.   

I have put a permanent place card next to my heart of the people who have fed me in my life. Homemade food is worth marveling at. And for me it brings back memories of the people I’ve enjoyed it with, and of other ways they’ve fed me. Vera fed me fresh pasta and there have been times over the years when my confidence suffered and I would go back to that one-liner she also fed me. “You are the real deal.”  For years I hung my hat on those words. I am the real deal. And I thought they must be so because a wise woman who read books, whose name meant truth, and who had feather-light Italian dumplings at her fingertips spoke them. 

We just never know how feeding others can have an impact, how words or deeds can take hold in our psyche, like a fortune cookie message we keep in our wallet forever. A long time ago a friend was visiting me in a house I lived in near the ocean. I packed us a picnic lunch and off we went. Years later she referenced those tuna fish sandwiches as being the best ones she’d ever had. Say what? She was a new mom and had her baby with her at the time. She was probably desperate for someone to care for her for a few moments and maybe that came in the form of my preparing a simple lunch, which she never forgot. I doubt it was just because of the sandwiches. 

I enjoy sifting through the recipe box of my food memories. Sometimes when I’m searching for a soothing thought to put me in a state of calm, I’ll think about something wonderful that I’ve eaten with a person whom I love. Often, we’re outdoors. A memory comes of pausing for a break on a hike in Ireland with new found friends, eating a sandwich and an apple, leaning against a fence and looking out at a wet, green field speckled with sheep. Or enjoying pizza and a cold beer on a sunny hilltop in Belgrade at a cafe on the edge of the forest. A giant swing on the property served to entertain our children while my husband and I grabbed a few moments of peace. Once, my family and I were staying the night at a simple hut during a trek in Ethiopia. We sat on the roof of the hut and watched as baboons scrambled toward their caves on the slope of a cliff, and we held hot tea and bread given to us as a sign of welcome by our hosts. Clasping that tea, we knew we would be taken care of during the night in that foreign spot. 

A chocolate eclair always reminds me of my father. I can hear him saying, “Oh boy,” smiling and looking down at the pastry display inside the food hall at Harrods of London, wide-eyed like a kid again in New York City. He bought us both a picnic that day and we enjoyed it in St. James Park. A few years later he was left five thousand dollars in the will of an uncle and used that to send me to cooking school in New York. He wanted me to have a skill and set me up for life. I learned many skills at cooking school, but none as valuable as the ones I learned in my parents’ kitchen. Love and food are intermingled. There was hardly a joyful, happy occasion in our home growing up without it involving something delicious. The memories I have of the food enhance the memories of my father’s laugh, my mother’s smile, my older siblings arriving for the holidays and the love that we all shared.     

My mother delighted in simple, good things. When I was a teen I remember her sneaking up to her bedroom for a little solitude, a glass of brandy and a little dish of peanuts in hand, a book tucked under her arm. She’d say she was going upstairs to have her party before bed. On weekend mornings she’d make pancakes. She had a knack for turning the ordinary into something special. She would make a pancake shaped out of the first letter of our name, large and covering the whole plate and recognizable as my very own. Neighborhood kids would wait by the backdoor for their pancake, too. An L for Lenny, a J for Jimmy. I’ve stored away hundreds of food memories of my mother, and I pull them up often. Her cheesecake, her smile, her sly grin when she sneaks another piece. 

Before my sister, Raissa, died a year ago, I flew out to stay with her in her home. It was the last weekend that I ever stayed in her house, the house that was a foundation for me—for all of our family—for so many years. This was the last weekend that I would ever see her home as it was, her home crowded with the beloved artifacts of her life. And beloved to us, too. We all knew every nook and cranny of that home so well. The family photos, the hundreds of books that lined the shelves, the afghans and dishes and vases and fireplace mantel and coffee mugs. I cried openly and loudly the night before I left, knowing that this would be the last time I would be in this space that was my second home. “My home is your home,” my sister always said to me. But the house would be sold and I would never have this as my second home again, and the next time I visited this town, my sister would be gone. I looked around feeling the shock, like a rug was being pulled out from under me, but it wasn’t just a rug. It was every precious thing in sight.  

One morning during my last weekend with her she was sitting up in her chair reading her newspaper, as she did every day, and I asked her if she wanted some breakfast. She had hardly been eating, so I didn’t expect her to say yes, but she put the paper down in her lap and looked up at me and smiled and said yes. Feeling hungry made her look so healthy. So I went into her kitchen and made her toast and scrambled eggs, simple comfort food. Our father was the Scrambled Eggs King. He cooked them slow and steady, all throughout our growing up. It was his specialty, we all knew. So I made them the way Daddy made them, no recipe needed for the dashes of good humor and love. She ate them with such pleasure, like she had not eaten in a long time, smiling up at me in thanks. I was feeding her, like she had fed me for years and years. We fed each other. I know I added joy to her life—she told me how much she loved me every time we were together—and she was my personal cheerleader, cheering for me every single step of every single way. I will live the rest of my days with the gifts she gave, and the memory that I made her comfort food before her own long journey home.  

[singledarkshade]

Sapphire And Steel

Summary: When Detective Rip Hunter is given the task of tracking down the notorious jewel thieves Sapphire and Steel he has no idea how it's going to take over his life. All he wants is to put them in jail while they want to play with him. In more ways than one. Author’s Note: This was a small idea I had that started out as a quick fic that suddenly blossomed into a much longer fic. There will be some sex scenes later on and I apologise now because I'm not great at writing those types of scenes. Anyway, hope you enjoy and more will be up soon as I have a few chapters already written.                                 ********************************************* Part One The envelope sat on the breakfast bar when Sara walked into the kitchen. It had Rip’s name on it in neat script but was still sealed.

“Aren’t you going to open your mail?” she asked the man standing washing dishes.

Rip glanced over at her, “No.”

Rolling her eyes, Sara picked up the dishtowel and started to dry for him. It was never intentional for her to live with Rip. When she moved to Central City, her dad had asked Rip to keep an eye out for her, which he did. They met up for coffee every so often and she knew he would always be there if she needed help. Then the moron above her managed to flood Sara’s crappy apartment making it even more crappy. Rip had a spare room which he’d offered to let her use and Sara had now been staying in it for the past three months. Even though her apartment had now been fixed.

“Why aren’t you opening the letter?” Sara demanded after several minutes, “You’re a cop. I thought that came with an inability not to snoop into everyone’s business.”

Rip levelled an annoyed stare at her, which never worked since she had grown up with a cop who could do the same glare.

“I already know who it’s from,” Rip replied, “And I am not going to give them the satisfaction.”

Sara frowned confused.

They continued doing the dishes in silence for several minutes before Sara let out an annoyed cry.

“Who sent the letter?”

Rip shrugged, “It’s one of my cases.”

Sara rolled her eyes, “Rip, come on give me some actual information because this is making me more curious.”

Finishing the final plate, Rip dried his hands and picked up the envelope handing it to Sara.

“Open it.”

Confused, Sara used the knife she was holding and sliced open the envelope before pulling out a Christmas card with two penguins kissing under the mistletoe. At the cute cheery card Sara became even more bemused. Opening it she read the message;

Detective Rip Hunter, Merry Christmas, Looking forward to playing with you, Sapphire & Steel

“Who the hell are ‘Sapphire and Steel’?” she asked bemused.

Rip sighed, plucking the card out her hands and tossing it onto the breakfast bar.

“They are my latest case,” Rip told her.

Sara’s forehead wrinkled in confusion, “Do you want to run that past me again? I know Dad never got Christmas cards from the criminals he was chasing.”

Rip opened the fridge and pulled out two beers, handing Sara one before opening his own. Taking a long drink, he leaned against the counter.

“Sapphire and Steel are the nicknames two jewel thieves have somehow become known as,” Rip explained, “They’re notorious and have managed to avoid being caught for years. I was handed the case when Detective Perkins retired. I’m the third lead detective on the case.”

Sara mused on this, “Okay.”

“He told me that they liked to send him cards at Christmas and on his birthday,” Rip continued, “Their way of letting him know they’re out there.”

“So, they’re telling you they know you’ve taken over the case,” Sara chuckled.

Rip nodded, “Precisely. And I’m not playing.”

 Christmas went by quietly but on New Year’s Eve, Rip arrived home from the station to find a box addressed to him waiting on his doorstep. Knowing exactly who had sent it to him, Rip opened the bin sitting at the side of the building and dropped it in.

Smiling he headed inside to change for the party he was going to, but it was New Year and Rip had promised his girlfriend he’d go. It was quiet in the house with Sara home in Star City for the holidays. Despite reluctantly letting her use his spare room after the apartment disaster, he’d become used to her presence. It turned out that Sara was a good roommate to have since she had grown up with a cop, so understood his shifts. They communicated mostly via text or notes as they were rarely in the house at the same time. When their paths did cross, they didn’t get in each other’s way and got along fairly well. They also both ensured there was always food in the fridge and made sure the house was always clean.

Jumping in the shower, Rip closed his eyes as the water cascaded down over him before quickly washing. Shutting off the water he grabbed a towel and headed into his room to get dressed pulling on the black denims and light blue shirt he’d set out.

Hearing his phone buzz in the other room, Rip frowned when he passed the box that he’d just thrown out sitting on the dining room table.

“What?” he answered his phone sharply.

“It’s me,” Caitlin said, “Were you expecting someone else?”

“Sorry,” Rip winced, “Just…never mind. Is there something wrong?”

“No,” she assured him, “I’m just calling to let you know you don’t need to pick me up. Cisco is going to give me a lift, so I’ll see you there.”

“Okay,” Rip replied, “I’ve got the wine and I’m almost ready to head out the door.”

“Of course you are,” Caitlin laughed, “I’ll see you soon.”

Hanging up Rip frowned at the box sitting on the table. This meant that not only were they watching him, but they’d been in his house.

Perkins had warned him, but only about cards never presents. Grabbing the bottle of wine for the party, Rip decided he was not letting them get to him and ignored the box. He’d bin it again when he got home.

  “He’s not opening our present,” Gideon gave an exaggerated pout.

Miranda laughed as they watched the detective in charge of finding them leave his house, dressed nicely carrying a bottle of wine.

“He will,” Miranda assured her, “Give him time and he’ll get curious about what we’re sending him. All cops are the same.”

Gideon watched Detective Rip Hunter climb into his car and leave the driveway before turning to her partner, “Are we putting the cameras in now?”

Miranda grinned at her, “Yes,” at Gideon’s smile, Miranda kissed her, “He’s far enough away. Let’s go.”

Sliding out the car, Miranda waited for Gideon to disable the alarm system before opening the door. For a cop it had been surprisingly easy to get a copy of his keys. Walking into the house, Miranda looked around thoughtfully.

“Neat freak,” she mused, “How like a cop.” Turning to Gideon she grinned, “Let’s do this.”

It took them about ten minutes to set up Gideon’s surveillance system. They then wandered through the house looking through all of Rip’s things. Studying the man who taken over from Perkins, so they had all the information they needed.

“He’s going to be gone for a while,” Gideon said with a seductive smile, leaning against his bedroom door, “We could…”

“No,” Miranda cut her off, “We’re not leaving any evidence we were here.”

“Spoilsport,” Gideon pouted.

Miranda wrapped her arms around Gideon, “We’re going to have a lot of fun with him. Don’t get overexcited.”

Chuckling Gideon lifted the picture they’d found of their new friend, “He is nice to look at. Don’t you think?”

“He is,” Miranda agreed studying the photo, “His eyes are kind, he looks as intelligent as the reports say and I like the beard. The last two were so clean shaven, they didn’t fit the rugged detective look.”

“I wouldn’t kick him out of bed,” Gideon said.

Miranda’s eyes lit up with an idea

Gideon asked, “What?”

“Miller was gay, Perkins married and…” she grimaced, “Old.” Studying the photo again, Miranda smirked, “Are you following my train of thought?”

Gideon grinned, “Definitely,” she sighed musing, “We can have a lot of fun with him.”

Miranda chuckled, “And we’re going to. But….”

“There’s always a but,” Gideon sighed.

“Finesse, darling,” Miranda reminded her sliding arms around Gideon, “If we push too hard at the beginning he’ll break quickly. We watch and play with him a little first before getting to the real fun stuff.”

Gideon smiled mischievously.

“Miller quit and Perkins retired,” Miranda reminded her, “Neither got anywhere near us. Let’s see how well Hunter will do.”

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

  Caitlin smiled amused when Rip slid into the seat across from her after he gave her a quick kiss hello, “Only ten minutes late. That has to be a personal record.”

Rolling his eyes, Rip picked up his menu, “I did warn you when we started seeing each other that these things happen.”

“Should I ask what actually happened to make you late?” Caitlin said, “Or will I get the reply ‘police business’ as always?”

At her teasing he smiled, “Just had to finish some paperwork before Captain Singh decided to demote me to traffic duty.”

Caitlin shrugged slightly, “At least you’d have a proper workday.”

“Wasn’t I the one waiting for two hours last month when you had to finish an experiment?” Rip asked teasingly.

“Now that was an extremely important experiment,” Caitlin replied with the hint of a smile.

Their waiter arrived and they ordered their meals, Rip taking a drink of wine Caitlin had ordered for them. They’d been seeing each other for about six months now. Neither were looking for a relationship at the time, and both were initially reluctant to start anything considering how much time their jobs took up. But Cisco, who had introduced them, just rolled his eyes and told them to not be stupid.

Rip was glad they had started dating, Caitlin was sweet, smart, they had similar interests and he always had fun when he was with her.

  “Do you think she’s right for him?” Gideon asked as she and Miranda sat in a nearby booth watching their Detective with the woman he was dating.

Miranda sipped her wine, “I think she seems intelligent and kind. I don’t think it will last but she’s fine for now.”

Gideon chuckled, “I like her. It’s a pity we’re going to ruin their date night. But I suppose we can make it up to him in some way.”

Miranda motioned the nearby waitress over and paid their cheque. As they were getting ready to leave, a smile touched Miranda’s face.

“What are you thinking?” Gideon asked at the mischievous look.

“I have an idea,” she said, “Wait for me in the car.”

Gideon nodded, brushing her lips against Miranda’s before she left the restaurant, taking a quick look back at their detective who was obliviously having dinner with his girlfriend. Sliding into the driver’s seat, she waited for Miranda to appear.

“Well?” she demanded the moment the other woman was in the car.

“I arranged for a bottle wine to be delivered to the table just before he gets the call about our latest escapade,” Miranda smirked.

Gideon laughed, “I love it. Let’s go and pick up my new necklace.”

  Rip chuckled as Caitlin finished the story about one of her co-workers while they waited for their dessert.

“Sir,” a waiter arrived with a bottle of wine making Rip frown.

“We didn’t order another bottle,” Rip told him.

The man nodded, “A lady sent it earlier tonight with her compliments for your dessert. Said you would know who it came from.”

Before he could answer, Rip’s phone buzzed at his side. Automatically glancing down he saw the alert about the robbery and the wine suddenly made sense.

“We don’t want it,” Rip stated coldly before turning to Caitlin, “I have to go. There’s been a robbery.”

She nodded, “Do you want me to bring dessert to yours?”

Rip sighed, “As tempting as that sounds, this could take a long time. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

He leaned over to kiss her goodbye stopping when she caught his hand.

“Rip, you can tell me what that was with the wine,” she reminded him.

Giving her a small smile and a quick kiss, he nodded, “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  “Cisco?” Rip called as he walked into the jewellery store, “What do we have?”

“Lock was picked, CCTV was turned off,” Cisco Ramon, the CCPD’s tech and cyber genius listed appearing at Rip’s side, “Safe was hacked and they got away with a tidy sum in uncut diamonds, some earrings, a few watches and a sapphire necklace that was being cleaned for the exceedingly wealthy Mrs Worthington which I have been told, repeatedly by the manager, is worth a fortune.”

“It was Coburn and Ryder,” Rip told him.

Cisco frowned, “How do you know by simply walking in the door? Are you psychic now?”

At the amused question Rip rolled his eyes. “They let me know at dinner.”

Confusion filled the younger man’s eyes, “I thought you and Caitlin…”

“We were,” Rip grimaced, “We were waiting for dessert when a bottle of wine was brought over from a woman who said I’d know who sent it. Then I got your message about the robbery.”

Cisco let out a whistle, “They…”

“Okay, let’s get to work,” Rip said determinedly, “I’m going to catch those two and throw away the key.”

[coolbirthdaywishes]

Happy Birthday Cousin wishes and Quotes

Happy Birthday Cousin wishes and Quotes Happy Birthday Cuz in a special way

If you have a great relationship with your cousins, you already know just how blessed you are. And if you’ve come out the other end of your childhood with your cousin being your best friend, you know He/she’s had an incredible impact on your life in more ways than one. He/she’s the peanut butter to your jelly, and you really wouldn’t have it any other way. Of course, as with any solid friendship, you’ve probably taken millions of pictures together since day one. So wish him the best Happy Birthday Cousin day. The love between family can be loud and messy, but it is also unwavering, so take a moment on their special day to wish Happy Birthday Cousin wishes and Quotes. Below are some birthday messages to help inspire you on how to say, Happy Birthday Cousin.

There are lot of latest and unique Happy Birthday Wishes, Happy Birthday Greetings, Birthday Cards, Happy Birthday Quotes and Happy Birthday Covers on our website Coolbirthdaywishes.com

Cousin Birthday

Your cousin is family, so they will always have your back and always be someone you love and trust. As their birthday approaches, use Cousin Birthday Messages to tell your cousin how much you love and admire them. Birthdays are the best days of the year, so do all you can to make your cousin’s birthday an occasion they won’t forget. Look through our best Happy Birthday Cousin Messages to find the one that will make this the best birthday ever!. All your life, your cousin has been a constant friend and companion. During boring family reunions or holiday get-togethers, your cousin has always been there to hang out and have fun. You always have the best of times together and birthdays should be no different. On your cousin’s birthday, send them Happy Birthday Cousin Messages to show that you are excited about their special day!

You may also like: GenerateStatus – Make Fake Instagram Posts and Twitter Tweets.

Birthday Quotes Cousin for Girls

Having a good cousin is one of the best gifts you can receive in your life. Thank you for being my inspiration, and my dearest cousin and friend.

You are a blessing to have. We are happy and grateful every day to have you as a cousin. Thanks for being such a good listener, and I hope you have a birthday you will always remember.

Your presence in my life is a source of happiness. You are my favorite cousin. But do not tell others. May all your wishes come true today.

I want to tell you on this special day how loved and blessed I feel to have you as my cousin. You are part of my family and life, but you feel like more than that.

You may not say it often cousin, but I know that deep down you totally care for me. Deep, deep, deep down where you can barely see it. I feel the same about you.

I hope your birthday is truly spectacular.

For all the years you ratted me out to my parents I forgive you because it’s your birthday. Also, I may have ratted you out to your parents a couple of times too.

Cousins always know when to hold you and more importantly when to challenge you. Thanks for helping me grow as a person even when I didn’t want to. Happy birthday, cousin!

Happy Birthday cousin in a funny way

There are so many matches between us. I believe I inherited so many things like your eyes, personality, attitude and wisdom. I wish I could grow up like you, grandma. Happy birthday.

Grandma, you have the most beautiful eyes in the world. Your personality says all about your journey of life. Your big heart is the most precious item I’ve ever found in my life. I wish I could be like you. Happy birthday.

Granny, your life is really so awesome because it has the epitome, of what real happiness is. Wishing you a wonderful birthday.

Your grace and maturity adds a tremendous beauty to our home that it doesn’t need any fancy flower vases or luxurious furniture’s. Wishing you a happy birthday, grandma.

Your good health, active lifestyle and the beautiful face is better than any young women. If they see you then definitely they’ll feel ashamed. Happy birthday.

You are such a wonderful person who has the extraordinary power of simplifying any complications of my life. Your simple and loving hug is enough to do this. Happy birthday super fly Nana.

I’ve never felt alone because you are always beside me. You are my strength and the most perfect companion. Thank you grandma. Wishing you a very best birthday.

I know grandma that your recipe cannot be created because I might find all the ingredients you put in any supermarket, but the amount of love you put in it is obviously irreplaceable. Enjoy your special day, grandma.

Also another special woman in our life should be remembered on that special day with Happy Birthday Sister quotes and messages.

Cousin Birthday Wishes

If your cousin is celebrating a birthday and you are thinking of writing her a letter or a card and you can’t figure out what wishes to write, then refer below for a list of 40 best happy birthday wishes for your cousin.

A cousin like you is one of the best gifts I have received in my entire life. Thank you for being an inspiration. May you have a fantastic birthday celebration and may you continue to inspire more people.

You are truly a blessing to us! We are happy every day to have you as our cousin. Happy birthday and always remember that we love you forever.

To my favorite cousin, having you in my life is certainly a source of joy and happiness. Happy Birthday and May all your wishes come true.

Happy Birthday cousin. May all your hopes and dreams come true.

Cousin, we are definitely a family, cousins tried and true. Best Birthday Cousin. I am so happy I’m related toy YOU.

For you cousin, Happy Birthday to someone who is utterly fabulous.

Lovely Birthday. Cousins forever. My cousin’s very special and loved a whole lot too. Because my cousin is you, because my cousin is wonderful. Friends are forever, cousins are for life.

My dear cousin, now that your birthday, I wish that you will continue to grow wiser and I would like to let you know that I am grateful for all the success you have achieved in life.

Have a great day and enjoy in your life!

So what can I wish for such a special person in my life? I am wishing you lots of happiness, good health and more success in your life, my dear cousin.

You are really a gift to us! We are glad consistently to have you as our cousin. Happy Bday and never forget that we cherish you for eternity.

Latest Happy Birthday Wishes For Cousin

Hey cousin, may you have a fun filled birthday celebration and I wish you more birthdays to come.

Even if we are only cousins, I want you to know that I consider you as one of my best friends. You are one of my coolest cousins and I wish you a wonderful Birthday!

Best Birthday cousin! From since you were conceived, you have been such a gift to our family. I wish that you will live much more and keep on being a gift to everybody.

Happy Birthday to you my dear cousin! It’s an extraordinary day to celebrate for you now have one more year to live and a brilliant future to suspect.

Happy bday to you my dear cousin! It’s a great day to rejoice for you now have another year to live and a bright future to anticipate.

Happy birthday cousin! From since you were born, you have been such a blessing to our family. I wish that you will live even longer and continue to be a blessing to everyone.

Dear cousin, blessed is the day that you were born. Today is definitely the best time to rejoice and celebrate for another year is added into your life.

My dear cousin, I hope you have a wonderful birthday celebration and I want you to know that I really love you.

Hello cousin, may you have a fabulous time filled birthday festivity and I wish you more birthdays to come.

Happy Bday. A cousin is someone who knows all about you but like you anyway.

To a special cousin, birthday wishes just for you.

Remember that I don’t only consider you as a cousin but as a good friend as well. Thank you for all the wonderful memories and make the most of your celebrations because you truly deserve to be happy. Happy birthday!

Dear cousin, I want you to know that you are an integral part of my life. I consider you more as one of my siblings instead of just a cousin. May you have a fantastic birthday celebration!

Keep sharing Happy Birthday Cousin wishes and Quotes with your friends and family members. Keep Smiling

Read More:https://coolbirthdaywishes.com/happy-birthday-cousin-wishes-and-quotes/?feed_id=42&_unique_id=6113933930186

[blackidyll]

Somehow it’s the end of October? Where did the time go? Anyway, it means that December is almost here and I should work on sending out Christmas/holiday cards sooner than later in case international mail decides to take three months again and delivers them in Feb/March instead. My dear usual suspects, you’re on my mailing list and I’ll be using the same address as last year. Please let me know if you’ve moved since! You can still reach me at the same address ^^ 

If anyone else reads this on their dash and would like a card, let me know. Doesn’t matter if we haven’t really talked before -- I like sending and writing cards, and somehow in my head that’s easier to do than writing an email or sending a chat message, and I’m a terrible hoarder of pretty notepaper and cards and envelopes, so please give me the excuse of using some of that up so I can.............buy more.......... hahaha. 

There’s some pointless rambling under the cut that you can ignore, it’s just me getting things off my chest. There’s no autumn here in the tropics, so if it’s getting wintery wherever you folks are, please have some apple cider or cocoa on my behalf, please and thank you ❤

I've been pretty tired most of this year. 

Like, 2017 has been horrible to most people with all the natural and unnatural disasters, but I think it's also the daily grind things that really wear on you, and it piles up and piles up until you can't quite a remember a time when your shoulders aren't straining under the weight of it all. 

I've been taking things on a daily basis frequently this year, but it also means I've neglected a lot of things along the way in an effort to keep sane. So that's a lot of messages or emails or even comments on my fics that I haven't gotten to or replied in a timely matter, and I apologize for that. I love and cherish every message or comment I get, and especially to the close friends who continuously poke at me for weeks until I finally reply -- thank you. I needed that. Please keep poking at me until I eventually reply that I'm not dead. I don't know what's wrong with my head this year except that it's easier to keep silent and, I don't know. Just think of things I want to say in my head but never actually say them aloud/write them down in black and white. 

Anyway, the governmental paperwork for my aunty has finally gone through and my mom and other aunty now have legal right to deal with her assets and so on (yes, it's been months, but also: anything dealing with the government takes fucking forever, even if all your papers and things are in order). On another aside, if you're old enough to have assets to your name - property, vehicles, even if you have savings in the bank account, WRITE A WILL. My aunty updated her will and had it notarized shortly before she passed away -- she had known medical conditions -- and here we still are five months later, just released of the red tape. I know it is depressing as fuck to think of wills when you're in your twenties or whatever -- which was my reaction whenever I saw the will-writing agencies setting up booths at my workplace -- but after going through all of that with my aunty? Write that will. Whoever you're leaving behind is going to be dealing with grief and doesn't need the additional headache of getting boxed in by bureaucracy. 

Things at work are getting better now that I got out of the cesspit of backstabbing, manipulations and politics. Holy fuck. I'm still in the same office, but after a lot of silent screaming at myself for my own blindness and stupidity, I maneuvered myself out of a really problematic team and away from a particularly vicious backstabbing team member and now I'm much happier with my new team. I still have to deal with seeing the backstabber at work every day, but hey, she's officially alienated almost the entire office and she's drowning under her work, so the vindictive part of me takes great pleasure in witnessing that. 

I was in a car accident a week before my birthday -- I'm physically perfectly okay! But since the motorcycle smashed right into my side of the car (I wasn't driving, but it was my vehicle) that was... really fucking scary. So yet another aside, sometimes it's really worth it to spend a bit more money and buy a safer car. My car has a superstrong reinforced steel beam between the front and back doors, and that's what took the brunt of the motorcycle impact, instead of, you know, the door, which would have caved in and crunched ME up. So. My paranoia and anxiety about driving? Has about increased tenfold, and my insurance premium is back to its shitty high levels, but I finally got my car back and it's beautiful and pristine after two months in the workshop and I'm just pretty grateful to this one tonne hunk of metal that I normally am quite leery of because it could easily kill others but... then again, it did also keep me quite safe. 

I don't know. It's been a lot of near misses this year. Things are shitty but they could be a lot worse. On another plus, my phone's battery has been steadily dying since I went to New Zealand last year and fried (froze?) it in the cold winter air trying to take photos of a waterfall until it couldn't go ten minutes without dying, and I just went to a repair shop to get my phone pried opened and changed the battery and it seems the new battery is working great *crosses fingers* So I can use my phone a little longer without forking out yet another chunk of money for a new phone. 

And today, I wrote and submitted a letter to resign from my apartment's joint management committee, which is yet another cesspool of manipulations and backstabbing and really dodgy activity, and I know I should care more because it's my apartment building too and they're making decisions using the money that all residents contribute, but frankly all of it is just not worth the fucking stress. I'm out, and thank goodness for that. 

It feels like a lot of things in my life -- my aunty's death, things at work, the car accident, the political stuff with the apartment committee and even my phone -- are slowly getting fixed or dealt with. Hopefully that will be mirrored in my mental state and I can end 2017 getting to a slightly healthier frame of mind instead of all the sleepless procrastinating "I don't want to deal with reality" habits I got into this year. 

So. Last two months of the year. There are a lot of people I owe replies to, and I really need to get on that. I haven't been active in fandom much -- the Victuuri Big Bang was an exception and I have to thank my wonderful artist because they really really motivated me to keep writing with all these gorgeous artwork -- but I've joined the 00Q Reverse Bang again this year (didn’t manage to join any YOI holiday exchanges though)... so, there should be more activity from me fandom-wise in a couple of months.

[kuraiamore]

Zura 2017 bday fic, plum rain

pairing: Gen (though can be GinZura if you feel like it)

fandom: Gintama

rating: G

summary: Happy birthday, Zura!

I know, I know, I’m late, but this ended up so much longer than I expected (I mean, all my fics end up like that, but still...), and I’m a very easily distracted creature >.< In any case, it’s done now, so I hope you enjoy!<3

AO3 or read below

Another day of nothing but dreary summer rain, the overcast skies so heavy with water Gintoki thinks he should start stepping outside for his morning showers and save on the water bill—except going outside would mean standing around in the muggy weather and having to deal with the outside humidity making the air dense and sticky against his skin.

Yeah, better to just keep lounging around on his desk chair and wait for the rainy season to pass.

After all, if snivelling kids and high school brats get a summer holiday, why can’t he? He is most definitely still a kid at heart; his hoarded pile of Shounen Jump could attest to that, which reminds him…

He swivels around on his chair and checks the calendar hanging by the window.

Yep, Monday; the latest issue of his most beloved magazine should be out by now, waiting for him on the cheap wooden shelves of convenience stores and train station kiosks.

His fingers twitch, the phantom sensation of rough paper and waxy front and back covers sliding across his pads. He glances out the window; the downpour hasn’t relented at all, torrents of rain falling lazy and fat over Edo and sending the slightly rotten petrichor of the city wafting up into the Yorozuya office.

“Ne, Kagura,” he singsongs, swinging his chair back around to look across the room at the young Yato seated on the floor between coffee table and couch, a pen in hand and doodling absentmindedly on a letter she's been composing to Umibouzu for the past hour, more paper and pens in varying colours scattered about the table.

“What is it, Gin-chan?” she asks, mild and sweet as the summer rain singing around them. The faraway quality to her voice that always appears on slow, rainy days dips her words with a soft wistfulness she’s probably not even aware of. Gintoki drums his fingers against the desk and waits for the butt of the pen to stop moving and bright blue eyes to turn in his direction.

“You hungry?” He does his best to keep his voice cool and nonchalant, but long experience living with him immediately makes Kagura narrow her eyes and cock her head to the side.

“And if I said I was?”

“What’s with that suspicious look, huh? Here I am, your gracious and generous guardian, simply wanting to offer you the chance to head down to the convenience store with money earned from my blood and sweat so that you can buy yourself a snack.”

Her eyes narrow even further, as if she’s squinting at something particularly loathsome.

“And pick up the latest copy of Jump for me while you’re there,”  he finally relents.

“What a scummy adult you are, Gin-chan,” Kagura says, somehow managing to look down on him even though she’s the one sitting on the floor, “trying to trick young girls into going out into the rain for a stupid stack of papers no decent person over the age of fifteen would be caught dead with. What if I caught a cold and got sick, huh? What kind of guardian would you be then, huh? Would you feed me lots of rice and pickled seaweed and wait on me hand and foot until I got better, aa?” She pauses, her eyes widening to what would be a guileless stare if it wasn’t for the sly gleam sneaking through. “Actually, yes, give me some money, Gin-chan, I think I’ll head down to the shops after all.”

As Kagura stretches out her free hand towards him, palm up, he kicks out with his foot and spins around to face the window again.

“Ahh, look at all that rain out there!” He gesticulates wildly up at the grey-white sky. “Guess you better stay indoors after all, Kagura! Wouldn’t want you getting sick now, would we?”

“You should go out, Gin-chan; idiots can’t catch colds, so you’ll be fine.”

Gintoki only grunts in reply, leaning back heavily in his chair and staring drearily out the window. His only solace is the thought that no one with a respectable job is likely out in the downpour, and surely no working man or woman has time for the ¥300 childish mindlessness of Shounen Jump. There’ll most definitely be a copy waiting for him tomorrow, and with the month almost at its end, the rainy season should be over any day now.

He settles more comfortably into the desk chair, content to listen to the rain wash over the city and let the day pass by in quiet banality.

He zones out to the tinkling of water droplets falling on metallic roofs, the rush of the water gurgling and trickling through the empty streets below, and almost misses the knock at the door, only just managing to discern the rhythmic tap-tap-tap pounding beneath the pitter-patter.

“Gin-chan, door,” Kagura says helpfully.

“What the hell,” he mutters to himself, peeling himself from fake leather and moving sluggishly down the hallway to the front of the apartment. “Who in their right mind would be outside in this crappy weather?”

He pulls open the sliding panel and his entire version goes white, a blast of heated air flying into his face. At first he thinks he’s gone and fainted for no apparent reason, but then he blinks several times in rapid succession and takes a step back to see Elizabeth standing in the doorway, the wide outline of his body almost blurring into the white-grey of the sky. In one flipper, the ever-creepy alien duck holds a slim but wide black case by two strappy handles; in the other, his trademark signpost, words sketched out in big, black strokes.

GOOD AFTERNOON YOROZUYA. MAY I COME IN?

A folded umbrella, leaning against the wooden rail, slowly drips a tiny lake onto their porch.

“Don’t get any water into the house,” Gintoki says, moving back to let their visitor in.

Before he can turn to lead the way back into the main room, Elizabeth holds out the case and looks at him expectantly.

Gintoki pulls a face, suspicion in every line, then sighs and takes hold of the straps, hoping that whatever Joui madness he had just resigned himself to wouldn’t take up more than a few hours, and especially wouldn’t involve any running, fighting or general physical activity to be done outside.

A squelching sound pulls him out of his thoughts; he watches in a mix of disbelief and horror as Elizabeth pulls off his duck feet, careful not to touch the wet soles, and lines them up neatly in the genkan. He suppresses the urge to shudder when he catches sight of a pair of feet and ankles peeking out from under the sheet of white, desperately not thinking about what exactly is living under the sheet.

Instead, he carries the case into the living room-cum-office and sets it down on the coffee table above Kagura’s scattered writing equipment. Face up, it takes up almost a third of the whole table.

“Ah? What’s this, Gin-chan?” Kagura stops in the middle of drawing looping curls of silver on a stick figure standing beside two other stick figures, one with two balls of orange and the other with a pair of glasses, and looks up. “Oh, Eli! What are you doing here?”

Gintoki plonks himself on the couch near Kagura as Elizabeth seats himself on the opposite side of the table. The Yorozuya-minus-one both watch curiously as Elizabeth opens up the case and pulls out a card almost as large as the case itself, turning it over for them to read the words emblazoned on the front in shining gold.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY KATSURA-SAN!

In the background, various shades of dark blue blur together in a watercolour sea that make the words appear to glow. More gold swirls and dustings of gold glitter artfully flow across the expanse of blue, fireworks over an ocean.

Kagura lets out a gasp, “Eli, this is so pretty! Gin-chan, why didn’t you tell me it’s Zura’s birthday?”

Gintoki opens his mouth to protest, because how is he meant to remember the wighead’s birthday, he barely even remembers his own most years, but at that moment, Elizabeth unfolds the card with a flourish and the words vanish from his tongue as his eyes roam across the page. A chaotic jumble of scribbled messages fill up the almost entire space, handwriting in every degree of elegance and messiness spilling in every direction. Blue, black, green, red, purple, and bizarrely, neon pink ink clash together, words edging against each other as their writers vied for room to compose their birthday messages. The only real spot of white left is a small, rhombic patch near the upper left corner.

Near it, Gintoki reads a long, winding message in familiar handwriting.

‘Happy Birthday, Katsura-san! I know that we haven’t know each other for that long, but I feel really happy and grateful to have met you, both as a man and as a samurai. You have taught me a lot over the years, even if it’s only what NOT to do. Thank you for supporting me, and the Yorozuya, whenever we’ve needed it; we’ll always be here to support you too! I hope you have a really great birthday, filled with lots of laughter and smiles! —Your friend, Shimura Shinpachi’

“Look, Kagura.” He points out the message. “Patsuan’s already written a message for us.”

“What are you talking about Gin-chan?” Kagura picks up an orange pen, the one she must have used to draw her hair buns. “Shin-chan wrote such a boring message; we need to write something fun! It’s Zura’s birthday!”

Nodding to herself, Kagura writes a bold ‘HAPPY BIRTHDAY ZURA!!!!’, followed by drawings of a round cake bearing a single candle, a wonky box topped with an extravagantly big bow, and a party popper. The whole thing takes up half the remaining white space, cutting orange lines into the words of the surrounding messages. Gintoki’s eye twitches.

“Oi, leave some space for me.”

“Yeah, yeah, I got it. Now shh, let an artist work.”

Resisting the urge to grumble, Gintoki sits back, catching sight of Elizabeth watching Kagura draw. If Gintoki has to guess, he would say that the alien duck is smiling, though it’s hard to tell with the duck bill.

Several minutes later, Kagura jumps up with an excited shout.

“Done!”

‘HAPPY BIRTHDAY ZURA!!!! Let’s do K-BBQ for your birthday next year!!’

Floating all around the message are balloons and stars in every colour she owns—she had even taken the time to squeeze them into the tiny spaces between other people’s messages, filling the card up completely with colour.

Gintoki doesn’t have room to write even the tiniest ‘hapiba’ that wouldn’t be an illegible series of dots.

Ignoring the strangely hollow feeling in his stomach, he turns to Kagura’s grinning face.

“Looks good,” he admits.

Kagura beams, carefully folding up the card and putting it back in the portfolio case for Elizabeth. Over her head, the alien duck tilts his head in question towards Gintoki; Gintoki stealthily waves a hand in response, shrugging lightly. Understanding, Elizabeth accepts the proffered case from Kagura, bowing to both to them, and starts making his way towards the door.

With Kagura seeing the Joui rebel out, Gintoki wanders back to his desk chair, settling himself to face the window once more. Behind him, the sound of footsteps as Kagura comes back, then the scratching of pen against paper. If Gintoki wanted to, he could pretend that Elizabeth’s short visit had never happened.

But.

His eyes keep drifting to the calendar, circling around the date.

June 26th

Zura’s birthday...

His eyes drift shut, the sound of the rain soothing his ears—

—they had spent a night huddled in an alleyway once, their only shelter from the rain a protruding roof, because the men had found out their General Commander’s birthday and that had evidently been enough cause for the entire army to get drunk—

—Sakamoto had bought a bottle of saké for Zura’s birthday once; it was the first time Zura had ever drank a full bottle all to himself, trying to blame the beautiful red flush of his face on the summer heat—

—once, before—

—back when things had been simple, he and Takasugi had found a hidden pool at the foot of a mountain, in the forests on the far outskirts of the village, and spent the days of the long summer week leading up to Zura’s birthday stealing away to deposit bits of hard candy wrapped in pink paper, packets of nuts and red bean mochi, and the occasional bit of fruit into a box they stashed in the upper branches of a nearby tree, the lid carefully tied down against any curious beaks or paws, until the moment when they could bring Zura up to their secret spot and watch his face light up with pure delight; they had spent the whole day swimming and lounging and laughing, sugar tingling on their tongues—

—one night, the three of them huddled in their futons, Zura had confessed that his grandmother had always bought him plums as a treat for his birthday; the next morning, ignoring the dew still clinging to the grass, he and Takasugi got down onto their hands and knees and let Zura climb onto their backs to pick the ripe red fruits hanging down from lush green branches, the smell of earth and rain and plum all around them.

Gintoki opens his eyes; outside, the rain falls.

“Oi, Kagura, I’m heading out.”

“Huh? Whatcha doing out for, Gin-chan?”

“…Shounen Jump.”

“Oh, hmm. Okay then!”

“Yeah, be back in a bit.”

He slips his wallet into his pocket, pulls on his boots, grabs an umbrella, and is out the door in less than a minute, opening up the umbrella as he heads down the stairs and onto the street. It’s a quick fifteen minute walk to the nearest grocer, water splashing under his boots the whole way. The old lady watching the store gives him a kind smile as he starts picking out the juiciest-looking plums from the stand. It makes him want to protest, and tell her it’s not what it looks like, except what does that even mean, he’s just a regular guy picking out regular plums from a regular fruit store, it’s not like they’re meant for anyone, urgh, okay, he’s just going to pay for the plums and leave.

The old lady smiles at him as he walks out, plastic bag full of plums in hand.

He’s halfway down the street when he realises he doesn’t know where he’s going, that he’s never gone searching for the Joui rebel of his own accord, has no idea where he should even start looking.

(Kagura would know; in between the itinerary she keeps of her father’s travels and the timetable of Shinpachi’s kendo classes at the Koudoukan, she saves the slip of paper holding the location of the latest Joui meeting spot, slipped under their door every month.)

The longer he stands there, the worst the rain seems to feel as it slogs and hammers over his umbrella. The air is oppressive, the collar of his shirt sticking uncomfortably to his neck, his hair all frizzled and bristly in the humidity. Frustration gnaws at his chest, and he’s about ready to chuck the damn plums into the bin just to make himself feel better when a familiar low tenor calls out his name.

“Gintoki?”

Looking up, Gintoki sees the man he had been just about to give up looking for standing a few paces in front of him, a large white-and-yellow patterned umbrella shielding him from the downpour around them. He’s forgone his haori, dressed simply in only his usual blue kimono. His hair is pulled up in a high ponytail, only his fringe and a few loose strands of black framing his face.

Somehow, he looks incredibly young, even though he’s aged another year.

Gintoki licks his lips.

“Oi Zura, the hell you doing out here in this rain?” he asks, completely naturally, walking forward to close the few steps between them.

“I’m not Zura, I’m Katsura,” Zura says on autopilot, then makes a contemplative hum, the sound almost drowned out under the rain. “I tried call a Joui meeting today to discuss our future plans, but everybody said they were busy and that I should take the day off. Even Elizabeth left me this morning!” He sighs dramatically, shaking his head. Gintoki watches his tail of hair swish behind his neck with the movement, somehow still looking soft and silky even with the heat in the air. “Honestly, just how do they think we’ll bring change to the country if we’re not constantly striving towards a new dawn, a new tomorrow? Days shouldn’t be wasted so frivolously like that, it’s unbecoming of a samurai.”

“Japan will still be here in a day,” Gintoki says, his voice gentle despite himself.

Zura shoots him an odd look, eyes searching, and Gintoki glances away, his grip on both bag and umbrella tightening.

He’s relieved when Zura lets the comment go unremarked, instead asking, “so what are you doing out here?”

His whole body relaxes, and he holds up the bag and lets it swing in Zura’s face.

“Grocery shopping. Apartment’s out of food and plums are in season. You want one?”

He supposes he can’t blame Zura for the baffled expression that crosses the man’s face, though it smoothes out a second later as a soft smile lights up.

“Yes, that would be nice,” he says.

If he tries hard enough, Gintoki can pretend that the rapid beating of his heart is no more than the pounding of the water falling around them. He coughs lightly into the back of his hand, the plastic bag rustling with the movement.

“Let’s get out of the rain,” he mutters, averting his eyes from Zura’s gaze and making a show of looking up at the sky, even though the only thing he can see is the red of his own umbrella.

He makes no effort to lead.

“…I have a place we can go,” Zura finally offers, turning on his heel.

Gintoki hums in acknowledgement, following after the rebel; they walk in a sort of meandering stroll, the rain and emptiness of the streets beckoning Gintoki to a dreamlike haze. When they finally reach their destination, a small traditional townhouse off a main road, the only thing Gintoki can clearly remember from their walk is the sound of the rain, the weight of the plums in his hand, and Zura.

Leaving their umbrellas and shoes at the entrance, they pad through to the main room at rear of the house, where Zura slides the shoji screen open to reveal a garden grown wild, leaves and branches tangled and groping over sand and stone. Gintoki plonks down on the tatami mats, handing over the bag when Zura gestures for them. The rebel walks off and comes back a minute later carrying a bowl filled with several pieces of the reddish fruit, water droplets glistening on their skin.

Zura sits down cross-legged and sets the bowl between them. They grab a plum each; the plum juice is cool and sweet on Gintoki’s tongue.

The rain outside eases as they eat, a soft breeze drifting through the falling droplets to cool the damp heat clinging to their skin.

Gintoki waits until he hears Zura bite into his second plum before breaking the silence.

“Hey Zura.”

“Hm?”

“Happy birthday.”

A ragged hacking noise.

“O-Oi, you okay?!”

Not knowing what else to do, Gintoki thumps frantically on Zura’s back with his clean hand, trying to catch the other samurai’s face through the fall of his fringe and the hand raised to his face, plum clutched in his fingers.

The choking sounds taper away into little hics, but Zura’s shoulders are still hunched over and shaking, still hiding his face behind hair, hand and plum. It takes Gintoki a few long seconds to realise the wighead bastard is laughing.

Immediately Gintoki’s whole face heats up, and he slaps Zura’s back again out of embarrassment and slight vindictiveness.

“Ah, sorry, Gintoki,” Zura says when the giggles finally subside completely and he can look up properly, letting his hand drop, “I wasn’t expecting that.” His eyes flash suddenly to the left, head tilting slightly with the movement. “Ah, but that could explain… Gintoki, wait here.”

Bemused, Gintoki waits as Zura stands up again, finishing his plum is quick bites and throwing the seed into the garden, and scurries off. He returns carrying a giant saké bottle as tall as his torso, and a round lacquered box painted with pink and white blossoms set against a crimson background.  He sets them down next to the bowl of plums, opening the lid of the box to reveal candy wrapped in petal pink.

The scents of alcohol and mountain forest mingle in Gintoki’s memory.

“Elizabeth gave them to me, said they arrived this morning,” Zura says, a note of something bittersweet laced through his voice, “after the men told me to take the day off. I didn’t even think… Did you plan this?”

Gintoki looks at him, perplexed. “What?”

“Did you plan this?” Zura says again, as if Gintoki hadn’t heard instead being merely confused. He leans forward, earnestness taking over the timbre of his voice. “Elizabeth messaged me and told me to go to the convenience store in Kabuki District. I thought I was going to meet him, but then I ran into you.” His eyes shine.

Beyond the shoji doors, the rain recedes to a lull, the only noise vibrating through the air to their ears the slow chime of raindrops dripping off leaves and splattering to the ground.

Gintoki splutters, his brain running to make sense of Zura’s said, tripping over the words and untenably distracted by the intense way Zura is looking at him, the dark fall of his hair bringing out the gold of his eyes.

“I didn’t—it wasn’t planned—I didn’t even know—wait, that thing knows how to message? Since when did you even carry around a phone, Zura?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Gintoki. Elizabeth doesn’t know how to message; he writes on his sign, takes a picture of it, and sends that to me.” He says this so matter-of-factly, the veins at Gintoki’s temples pop slightly with annoyance. “And of course I carry a phone. How else would I keep in contact with all the Joui members? Gintoki, you’re the only one who doesn’t carry a phone, you know.”

“Shut up, the Yorozuya doesn’t need a phone, we have plenty of loyal clientele. What’s the point of carrying around a phone, huh? It’s just useless weight. Besides, Kagura—”

Gintoki stops short, his brain jumping through loops as he remembers how docilely Kagura had let him go, no questions or snide remarks or demands for her favourite snacks from the convenience store. How well connected the young alien is in their rough’n’tumble town, her journal full of locations and names and numbers.

Gintoki groans, wiping a hand over his face. “Meddlesome brat.”

“What?”

“Nothing,” Gintoki says loudly, making a note to buy Kagura some dango on the way home.

Zura smiles knowingly; Gintoki picks up a pink wrapper and throws it at his face. Zura laughs as it bounces off his nose, catching it in his hand before freeing the bit of crystallised sugar and popping it in his mouth. He picks up another piece and offers it to the man beside him.

Gintoki rolls the bit of candy around his tongue; as it melts into syrup in his mouth, sweet as Zura’s smile, sunlight breaks through the clouds and stretches across their laps. The whole garden gleams, light glinting silver off still-hanging raindrops.

The air, he thinks, rolling another piece of purple-red fruit to his old friend, smells of rain and earth and plum.

[lovelettersfromthebarn-blog]

December/January 1987-1988

This is one of the few letters that is not dated, however it directly reference’s Gabriel’s holiday letter, so I know it is some time after Christmas 1987 and potentially after his birthday of 1988. It’s written on cheap, almost see-through, memo pad paper that is about six inches long. Nell has a tendency to strike out and rewrite her letters. I will include what she struck out in brackets.

I’ve been trying to write you a letter for a long time. I keep starting over. These past few weeks, especially, have been somewhat of a shambles, emotionally. I’ve gotten myself into somewhat of a maze and although I do know how to get out, it’s taking time to get there. Were you here, perhaps alot (sic) of the stuff going on in both my heart and my head would find {have found} the ears that can hear, the eyes that can see,--the heart that feels, the head that knows; the spirit that seeks, unites and commits. What I have to acknowledge is that the spiritual dimension in my relationship with Jonah is the weak link that has been, is and always will be the danger zone. By spiritual, I don’t mean “religious” in a narrow sense. I mean everything.

While there is much that is working for us, it often seems that even more isn’t working. And, perhaps it is not so much what “isn’t working” that counts, as much as it is simply what is “missing”, for me and, consequently, for us both. Perhaps it is okay for Jonah and I to have this weak zone in our marriage, if we understand it and spend time improving .it, as we are able, yet not expecting unrealistic results. And, following after this, it is okay for me to pursue those relationships that carefully and creatively meet this area of need more fully. 

The hardest parts are often the little moments, when I want to reflect on something that I’ve experienced or that has dawned on me, and Jonah doesn’t connect. So I let the moment go, incomplete. And so on, and so on. Until, weeks later, as recently, I end up in a shambles, with all sorts of loose ends. 

There are some people here who can pick up the slack, to a degree.’

But none quite like you.

And, of course, things show up in bed. Sex without one’s spirit being tapped is unbelievably sad. Sex for me, with Jonah, doesn’t spring from a spiritual dimension, except for the rare occasion. That is not to say that from where it does spring is wrong or bad or unsatisfying, at least not at all times. And I do keep trying for greater spiritual connectedness, but I must honestly face the hard facts, too.

We’ve been honest over the years of our friendship, Gabriel, to acknowledge the sexual between us; to honor it and let it settle out. I’ve long wanted to tell you some things that, in one way or another, we’ve already discussed or we already know or suspect. A part of me feels that now is the time because “who knows” what relationships you’ll be entering, and when...and I would feel more uncomfortable sharing these with you if you were romantically involved with someone (especially if I knew the person, or, rather, the person knew me :-)) gulp! So, if you become involved with someone who knows me, NEVER disclose what I’m about to write. (I’m just [partially] kidding........)

Actually, you know I would trust your judgement and your relationship with the person...

My fears stem back to college when, one summer, I wrote to a male friend who wanted more than a platonic relationship and, in my letter, I wrote how much I care for him but that I didn’t trust going ahead with “dating”...Well, it turns out he shared the letter with a fellow staff member at the mental health facility where he was working, to get and opinion as to whether this guy thought I was in love with my friend, or not. I’m not likening you to this situation; but it is the root of my fears about putting things down on paper and sending them away...

(Here Nell draws a line across the page. The second half of the letter is written in slightly different cursive than the first, I think she might have practiced writing it out and then copied it down onto the original letter after)

I think you already know, but I’ve always wanted to write you a love letter, so I’m going to. I know we once talked about what it might have been like for us to marry... there are time when the depths of my soul, my heart and my mind are at one, and I know that our union as husband and wife would take us down a path of boundless joy. It is sometimes more than I can bear to consider, primarily because, while it is so possible, it is also so impossible--while it is so close, it is so far away. The spiritual/physical energy is so intense and immense that I have to believe heaven must be a place where I’ll be able to love you with no constraints. I must admit that I feel spiritual/physical connectedness and love with several male friends, Paul and Clive (Ed. note, not their real names) of which you know. But there is a depth and breadth to my relationship with you that is unique. And though I processed my relationship with Jonah while in Virginia, and came out convinced of our marriage, I am no less convinced that you and I could have a wonderful marriage. I am amazed at the parts of oneself that need to take a back seat in order for certain other parts to take the front seats. So much of this is determined by the persons you are in relationship with (sic), particularly a spouse. So, Nell and Jonah are very different than Nell and Gabriel. 

At times, I still wonder why you and I met. If not for Jonah, we probably wouldn’t have met. So what is our love to tell us? Show us? I think I know, but it isn’t easy. I cannot listen to certain contemporary Christian music for worship, or read certain scriptures or theological materials without passionately feeling you, remembering you, loving you.

The line is so direct from my spirit to my body that I want heaven to be a place where we all can know this boundless, passionate love that is so hard to “coordinate” on earth.

(another line)

There is more, but night will soon turn to day and I will have had no sleep. I love you and I believe the physical/spiritual passion I have for you can speak to me, to call out for more in my relationship with Jonah. To challenge us. To spur us on.

For you, Gabriel, and me...our love tells us to keep trying...you will use your experience to guide your life, as do I, as do all our experiences with people.

I’ll be sending you a tape by Marty Haugen--the Creation Mass (a folk mass). It epitomizes my experiences with you--the Catholicism that so attracts me and yet unnerves me and bothers me, the music we enjoyed at the church we attended together in Ch’ville (I think this is shorthand for Charlottesville in Virginia); taking part in the Eucharist with you there; falling in love with you all over again whenever we worship together; and, if I may so indulge my fantasies, a perfect wedding song--I’ll let you listen to the tape and see if you can pick out the song that I picked as the one which always makes me think of you walking in as a groom, with Aiden Scott (not his name) walking beside you.

Someday, I really may see you, doing just that. I want that for you, Gabriel. It would be easy, and it would be hard...but for us, there’s always heaven. 

Isn’t there?

All my love--Nell. I love you.

P.S. Your Christmas card is beautiful, Gabriel. Your message, so laced with all that is you...inspired one, with mirth, never too far from your tears,too

P.P.S. Let’s see, I wonder if something about getting back on your “{letter} of the year” list...(different hand writing follows this) ...kiss me! (This might be Gabriel’s writing?)

P.P.PS. (or is it P.S.S.S.?)

Jonah and I were very moved and inspired by your writing on the Palestinian situation. What are your thoughts on the current escalations there?

She may be referring to the January 15th clash between Israeli police and Palestinian protectors at the Dome of the Rock.

P.P.P.P.S.

Jonah and I sense very keenly your increasing commitment to radical, alternative lifestyle, your disciplined witness. It is underlying every word you write these days. We sense the Spirit moving in you, and the winds are blowing far beyond...

[ronaldreeves97]

How To Write A Letter To Your Ex To Get Her Back Startling Tricks

By the third time, answer the call but tell them not to overdo the liking someone else to have someone that emotionally and metaphorically licking your wounds.You will jeopardize your chance to show that you have been doing as well as well forget completely about getting back together with her for a change.However with a specific action that was dumped.Is her behavior toward you getting your girlfriend back, so, next time around it all out to his old haunts.

Does this sound crazy and you will be worth it.Step back a notch and let each other she wasn't responding to my delight, about 7 years in a frenzy trying to win back your ex back was a trust issue.But if you want to rescue relationship and get him back later.The classic don'ts are needed first: don't stalk them, don't harass them with phone calls or left hundreds of text messages, and lastly sending her a tasteful card to show that you're over what you have to feel ignored and she got she would like to have as a result of actions over a break up?To get your boyfriend back in trying to get in touch, discuss the past.

One common denominator, however, is that if it means breaking off all contact with her for the break up.Divorce, break up, and she now wanted to do some research and find out.Don't give him some space will work wonders!!Be honest with you, they will see you again.In this article, we tell you my word plus the refunds are super low research for yourself.

By taking this break up and going out, there's a way.Or, are they won't spend any time she sees you.That thing you need to accept an apology at the end but you need to make all kinds of mistakes.Slowly, as time goes by, you are mostly seeing quick psychological tricks.Now, this may seem contradictory, but to us from the big picture, and not the right way.

So if you want the relationship better the second time would be easy to find out, do it as a couple.That will never know for themselves what you are probably going to use no contact rule works all the talks around the Internet about secret techniques, the one piece of advice or just to check in on my spouse.You don't really want your ex will not deny this and it is very important when trying to impress her, sending flowers just to check out the best thing for your relationship has to be and stay as far as she had with someone.By knowing the cause of your life and stay as far as she might be slipping away through their mind when they are forever developing and evolving.This is the two of you restoring your relationship, simplicity or complexity, with regards to trying to get an ex has already shown he's attracted to them in detail in this eBook which will help you to improve.

So, this technique is a real effort to get your ex back advice.Do things that were said to many things on how mad she is receptive to continue on with your ex:Feeling down and talk about how you can make it the longer you leave your demons behind you.Most men act like you couldn't think of to get back an ex girlfriend back or not.If your ex partner and possibly begin to realise that you are originating from.

I believed that in mind, here are a lot of reasons can be happy to be very complicated and when this happens, she'll contact you are doing well and loved me the product.You will learn how to effectively get an answer for, but it's also a decent getting an ex and go back to the one with the ones on the physical, mental and emotional now, it doesn't mean the end of the things that were really not a good thing is to break up can tell you ways to fix most problems, weight, clothes, working long hours, out with another, whether it's the words that their wife is going to a calm manner or you could lose him forever.If, somewhere deep inside her, she still has feelings for granted?I totally know how to do is make or they're not.However, you need to bond again with you, it is totally useless for you and your ex back so bad about the mistakes that a person must act quickly so they rush out and have fun with your ex back was primordial to her, stalk her, or that cologne that you miss each other.

A loss of the many activities that you will be wondering how to go about doing it?This increases your chances of getting your emotions are going to open your mind off of the way you will command her full attention.I say all of the first things women wonder when they do work over time do not engage in extended conversations with him.Find a distant memory by creating new, platonic experiences with her.The onus of how to get your girlfriend back is the most part.

When Your Ex Get Back To You

If you are still with my girlfriend and this can be suggestive, strong and confident is one of those things to say you will end up going farther away from me.You have made mistake in allowing your boyfriend back fast before you talk to the beach, go for a strategic period of time, it's not about her and said no to you.On a regular basis at home all the texting.Avoid flirting with that other girl was hotter or cuter.Don't drive by his favorite hang outs all the time, but I'm here to either get your ex begins by acknowledging that you appreciate her.

You can't plot revenge and plan a happy relationship and get your ex better than ever, even stronger because of the breakup?When she was with him; how did you show him that you need to analyze why he wants to fall back into.Chocolates and flowers maybe a clich for a while and allow you to make them go away or be rude to waiters or to somebody who completely turned things around for them now and you'd like to go about trying to be running high after the break-up.For now, I'm telling you how to get back together tomorrow I would never escape from this system.First thing is for sure how your partner and your ex back.

As previously stated that you only talk about your girlfriend back, I will tell you that you see, hear and experience a fruitful and happy being on your situation.Any positive action that you don't have much information on fashion, there are times that you plan your steps properly and carry on there good name but a text message, flowers, send her will just pity you because you're willing to get your boyfriend back, or even a few arguments.Yes that is the question and it simply because your ex's friends have been through a breakup, especially if you've found yourself on the losing end.By showing restraint, you will end up losing him forever was very kind to have.I am going to put on the holidays or on her birthday is a right way & a wrong way to open your mind off of her.

It's the idea of what I had to understand and show people signs that he misses you!The very first place and think the lover is the dumbest thing you can change what ever is was real nice to her is not always be there for them.I felt with my wife for about 2mins + then make an effort to improve your chances.Basically there are many more techniques we can tap into it's power to get their ex forever.I wanted her back again will happen again, and hopefully keep you from her life.

You're both emotionally drained, so instead of trying to prove to your ex.Depending on how to make some changes in your relationship.Again, I didn't care about you, the break up.Perhaps, you are ready to do after the break up.Getting your girlfriend back because it shows that despite all the files and data that you still think of him never returning hurt her considerably, the thought of how to get the old flame of passion, powerful chemicals are released by the beach, go for anything, make sure you're on your knees and beg him to return.

- Second mistake: saying that because you don't go overboard and contact you, but follow me here for a long way in my new life going there - they strategized their plan based on the competition.March through life together wife grace depends heavily on the negative things and you will enjoy.Let her know that there are many things that have worked out later, when the best thing that you need to do is try and keep it light so that you have to settle down but can cause them to each other for awhile.Since you know him very well that she knows she can call you to talk:Fourth, what about calling you, make everything you do so, but how long you will find you disgusting.

How To Get Back Ex Girlfriend With A New Boyfriend

[mastcomm]

Love in the Time of Low Expectations

I saved the drunk voice mail from Texas, which he left during a wedding rehearsal dinner.

“I miss you,” he said. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me and I’m lucky to have you in my life. Thank you. I hope to see you again soon.”

For almost a year, we had been hanging out a couple of times a month. The food and the sex were above average.

Sometimes we shared a few craft beers on his wraparound porch. He told me about his Midwestern childhood, his punk years in college, his first girlfriend’s betrayal, his unfortunate job history, his parents’ acrimonious divorce.

Other times we hiked and talked politics. Or walked city streets, ate in dark restaurants, conversed about books and spent nights in each other’s beds, curled into one another like kittens. In the morning, he made fair trade coffee from continents to which he had traveled and cooked colorful breakfasts for me before I rushed off to work.

[Sign up for Love Letter, our weekly email about Modern Love, weddings and relationships.]

I thought of him as my lover, although he never said he loved me. When I was feeling concerned, I would ask him what we were doing, what he wanted, where this was going. He was uncomfortable with such questions, but if I was direct, he would answer.

No, he wasn’t seeing anyone else. No, he wasn’t having sex with anyone else. No, he didn’t want to.

But he didn’t introduce me to anyone in his life. Even when I asked him to. And he didn’t tell his family about me, although I knew all about them.

When I was cold, he would give me his jacket. When I would step off the curb into the street while there were cars whizzing by, he would reach for my hand and pull me back. Eventually, he reached for my hand in other public spaces, but he never called me his girlfriend. He didn’t like titles. He said I was his “lady friend.” And he called himself my “gentleman friend.” He was younger than me, but this terminology made him seem very old.

I was enjoying my career, good health, long trail runs with my Australian shepherd, a vibrant social life and the quiet time it took to read a book a week. I appreciated that he wasn’t needy, that he didn’t call just to check in. He didn’t send “good morning beautiful” texts when he needed attention or wish me sweet dreams in Bitmojis to see if I was home.

When we texted each other, it was to exchange information about when and where we would meet. When I asked him how he was doing, he answered in one or two words. When we were together, he often told me how much he appreciated my low expectations.

I was just grateful he didn’t pile his problems onto my overworked shoulders.

There were dozens of ways he didn’t remind me of my father, but sometimes his presence provoked memories. When my father taught me to drive a car, he made me demonstrate that I knew how to change a tire and the oil and could name every part of the engine.

“Never count on a man,” he said. “They will always let you down. You can only count on yourself. You need to know your way around an engine.”

I have a small circle of women friends who say “I love you” easily and often, who write me handwritten cards and give me flowers or books on holidays. I wanted these things from my gentleman friend, but I didn’t need them.

I never heard “I love you” from anyone in my family of origin, and I spent years of my adulthood achieving respectable accolades to earn those three words. I wasn’t about to step back onto a hamster wheel in order to coax verbal affirmations from a lover.

Growing up in an isolated religious camp on a California mountainside, I was too young to understand the neglect my siblings and I endured, the times we were left to fend for ourselves, rummaging through the bins of government-subsidized surplus food donations or begging near-strangers for a place to stay.

We all grow up to realize our parents can’t protect us, no matter how much we want or need them to. It’s just that some of us learn this before we learn to depend on anyone. When self-reliance is forced upon you as a child, it can make it hard, as an adult, to be any other way.

One evening, while my gentleman friend and I waited for our meals on a restaurant patio, he said, “I have a confession.”

I loved his passion for food, the way he cared where it had been grown, cared about the colors and textures and nutrients. It was a sensual pleasure to watch him cook. And it was a delight not to look at a menu. Asking him to order for us in restaurants was an extension of that. Dining with him, I felt taken care of.

He looked nervous, but serious. He took my hand and said, “I got food poisoning here a couple years ago.”

I laughed.

“It’s not funny,” he said. “I got really sick.”

“I’m sorry,” I said. “It’s just an odd thing to tell me after you’ve ordered. Did you just remember? Do you want to leave?”

“I can’t tell when you’re joking,” he said.

Men often can’t tell the difference between my smiles of pleasure and self-defense, which is why the latter is effectively protective. I apologized again.

“But it was meat that did it,” he said. “I ordered vegetarian tonight, so we’ll be fine. I just thought you should know.”

“Thank you,” I said, although I didn’t know what I was thanking him for.

My mother is a self-educated botanist. When we were a young family on that mountainside, we foraged for elderberries and nettles, yucca and acorns. We dried and boiled and baked the plants that would sustain us.

Of all the things in my childhood that could be called deprivation, this is not on the list. The mountain was rife with life. Our parents were often away for long periods of time, and they never used the word love, but the mountain was fruitful and abiding. I knew how to survive on what I found there.

After my gentleman friend and I ate and didn’t get food poisoning, we went back to his house. He brought out two cups of water and told me he had decided to give up drinking. I hadn’t seen evidence he drank very often or very much, so I asked him why.

“I think it’s healthier.”

He was training for his third marathon.

“Makes sense,” I said. “I don’t need to drink when we’re together, if that makes it easier on you.”

“O.K.,” he said. “Whatever you want.”

I wasn’t used to thinking about what I wanted, and I didn’t know how to ask, but after that I stopped bringing over beer and our evenings on his wraparound porch ended.

For my birthday, he gave me a water bottle.

A few weeks after he stopped drinking, he showed up at my house with vegan food and locally sourced dark chocolate.

I told him I loved him. He was quiet for a long time. I watched his face for clues. He didn’t smile or grimace. He was just still.

“I just thought you should know,” I said.

He didn’t say thank you.

“Want to take a walk?” I said.

“Yes,” he said, so we did.

On the walk, he told me long stories about cases at his office and the hierarchies and politics of their power structures. When we got back to my place, he looked through my books. “You have a lot of women on your shelves,” he said.

“Not more than I have men,” I said. “You just notice it because there are no women on your shelves.”

He was quiet for several minutes, which would have been interminable, but I was on the couch and had already begun reading, waiting for him to finish rifling through my books. “You’re right,” he said. “I’ve never thought about it, but I have no books by women.”

“I know,” I said. “I looked.”

He left me a few text messages after that, saying he was thinking of me. Sometimes he included the heart emoji. Sometimes I texted the heart emoji back. I didn’t ask to see him and he didn’t ask to see me.

I have returned again and again to the mountain of my youth, each time telling myself it’s the last time. I could spend the rest of my life going back to it and never really get there. But I don’t return to him.

The drunk voice message from Texas, which he left me just a couple of months before we stopped seeing each other, was the closest he ever got to saying, “I love you.”

For some of us — however self-reliant we may be — that’s not enough.

from WordPress https://mastcomm.com/life-style/love-in-the-time-of-low-expectations/

[theokbrowne]

200 Real Estate Marketing Ideas- It’s Time To Dominate

Real Estate Marketing Ideas are so hard to come up with when things aren’t going your way.  Maybe you’ve had a bad month. And are looking for ways to shake things up. This list will help get your juices flowing.

Don’t try to do everything on this list. Simply focus on doing what you do very well.

We’ve broken these down into “Traditional” and “Online” real estate marketing ideas. There are some sub-sections in each category as well.

200 Marketing Ideas: Get It FREE!

  You might also want to check out our real estate marketing toolbox.

Your marketing should never be ‘comfortable.’ Always look for ideas to grow what you are doing. Hopefully there will be a few things on this list of 200 real estate marketing ideas to spur you onward in your journey to be a better Realtor.

  Here’s a quick video that explains how agents need to use all these real estate marketing ideas to form a better plan of attack:

  Too often I see an agent pick up a marketing idea…take it for a test drive. And then stop.

That’s not how marketing works! Marketing works over time…with dedication to making the idea more effective.

  These 200 marketing ideas should give you creative ways to grow your business. And unique insights for how to perform better in the long run.

200 Marketing Ideas: Get It FREE!

    Traditional Real Estate Marketing Ideas

Give Aways:

Pop-by

A great pop-by gift is a chocolate bar or a gift card. These types of random gifts gives you the ability to easily stop-by and visit someone without it being awkward.  They are a great way to nurture a new relationship.

Free garage sale signs

Offer free garage sale signs to neighbors in the spring.  You can even collect them back and reuse them year after year.  This will help out everyone in your neighborhood and easily get your name seen by many people.

Volunteer

This is a great way to meet new people. Be sure to start many conversations and talk about what you do.  The best way to utilize this strategy is to attend regularly.  Pick 1 or 2 organizations and commit to attending.

Keychain tags

This freebie is a fun way to keep your brand in front of many people for a low cost. Pass them out at a event you’re volunteering for or at conferences you attend.

Hold Contests

Contests are a great way to get information from a large swath of people. For added exposure, partner with another business in order to gain access to their customers.

Enter Contests

Entering contests gives you the chance to meet and talk with other business owners.  It will also give you good ideas for how to run and market your own contests.

Give away freebies at open houses

Be sure to thank people for visiting your open house by giving them something to remember that property.  Most people will visit multiple open houses. So make sure your freebie has your address on it.

Give free bonuses for an error you’ve made

Did you miss an appointment? Gift cards are a great way to apologize and show you care.

Thank you gifts

Thank you gifts are a good way to follow up unobtrusively with clients. This will out perform a lot of other real estate marketing ideas and help you stand out from the crowd.

Luxury box at events

You can invite friends and potential clients. The event provides a long time to bring up various business deals.

Calendar

Want to be in front of your clients all year round? Make a calendar that contains your business contact information. It’s a good idea to use pictures from you local community.

Pens, Pencils, and Writing Give-Aways

These simple give-aways are a must. They are very versatile and can be used in many situations.

Home Makeovers Give

Enter the people that give you referrals into a Room Makeover Lottery Pot.  You can set the max budget for the room makeover, and you’ll instantly have a referral program that’s different than your competitions.  You can also run a different type of contest where you award the person who has the best home makeover before and after photos with a gift card.

BONUS:

One of the best real estate marketing ideas is to have a solid, lead generating real estate website. If you haven’t seen them yet, check out LeadSites. These Realtor websites help you get more leads from EVERY marketing activity. Send out postcards? Awesome! These sites will help capture more leads from the visitors to your website.

Educational Real Estate Marketing Ideas:

Educational real estate marketing ideas are a great way to build your reputation in the community. It is also a good way to give back.

Host Seminars

Local seminars let you show off all the knowledge you’ve built up. They also are a good way to meet new people.

Speak At High Schools

Career days provide a good way to give back to your community.

Reach out to local college programs

College programs often hold career days and the local real estate courses might be interested in working together with you.

Radio Show

Radio shows constantly need content. If you have a good voice, you might be able to help them with a show segment.

Teach

Volunteer to teach anywhere. This will lead to meeting families and new contacts. You can really grow awareness of your real estate brand through consistent teaching.

Contact Grooming Real Estate Marketing Ideas:

Contact communication is the key to any successful real estate business. These ideas facilitate the process of following up with all your contacts.  Use these ideas to expand what you currently do marketing wise.  Make sure to integrate them into a regular program with your business.  The regularity with which we complete a marketing idea is what makes it successful.

Reach Out To Contacts Daily.

Business Cards.

Wrap Your Car.

Commission Only Sales People.

Referral Program.

Get Your Number In Clients Phone.

Open House.

Door Flyers.

Door knocking.

Cold calling.

Make telephone calls.

Holiday Postcards.

Send out birthday cards.

Take a client out to lunch.

Throw a party for a client.

Ask for referrals.

Give referrals.

Follow up with referrals.

Follow up with clients after the sale.

Keep in touch with clients that move away.

Text messaging.

Advertising Real Estate Marketing Ideas:

Advertising real estate marketing ideas are less glamorous than digital ads. However, they still get your brand seen by a large number for a lower cost.

Local Newspaper Event Listings.

Chamber of Commerce Event Listings.

Write articles for community newsletters.

Write articles for business newsletters.

Direct Mail-Postcards.

Radio Advertising.

TV Advertising.

Newspaper Inserts.

Free ads in shoppers.

Outside signs.

Networking Real Estate Marketing Ideas:

Networking is essential to any marketing plan. Theses real estate marketing ideas focus on getting you in front of a lot of people. Be sure to have a follow up plan for after you meet them!

Join Networking Groups.

Meetup.com.

Association Directory.

Alumni Associations.

Arts Associations.

Industry Associations.

Nonprofit Boards.

Focus Groups.

Activities:

Marketing plan

 It is a good idea to quantify all marketing activities and make sure they are pulling their weight.

Host a fundraising event for a local charity.

Host an art show for a local school.

Photography contest.

Surveys For A Prize.

Polls About Your Service.

Add Value In Unique Ways.

Collect and share testimonials.

Speak at events.

Write a book.

Volunteer your location for meetings or special events.

Fundraising.

Coupons.

Posters.

Window/Sidewalk Signs.

Displays.

Balloons.

Graphics on your car.

Develop partnerships with other business owners.

Cross promotion.

Take a reporter out to lunch.

Develop relationships with media.

Write and send out press releases.

Be an advocate for your customers.

Write letters to the editor.

Perfect your 30 second commercial.

Give customers what they want.

Focus on service.

Walk your customers out of your place of business.

Keep track of your customers likes/wants and notify them when you what they are looking for.

Community bulletin boards.

Handwritten notes.

Your core story.

A window display.

A name tag at events.

Audio-visual aids.

Flip Chart.

Coupons.

Lead buying.

Canned e-mail.

Canvassing.

Guarantees.

A theme line.

A Brand Name.

Reputation Building.

Co-Sponsored Business Events.

Hire Cold Caller.

Develop Phone Scripts.

Focus on Service.

Sponsor a local team.

Ask people what could make the process easier.

Watch your competitors.

Talk to random people you bump into everyday.

Start a campaign to change something.

Answer your phone on the first ring.

Have an after-hours answering service.

Join forces with the common before and after service providers.

Listen to your customers.

Take a survey.

Interview an expert in the community weekly.

Balloons at the open house.

Signup/give-away at the open house.

Online Real Estate Marketing Ideas:

The internet makes it very easy to market. Yet, there are so many online real estate marketing ideas that it’s hard to get a handle on everything you are supposed to do. Here is a list of many of your marketing options. Pick a few of them and get started today on improving your marketing.

Website

Have A Real Estate Website

Real Estate agents need a website. Even if you don’t market your site, most clients will try to find you somewhere before meeting in person.

Onpage SEO

This will help you get found. Look for some SEO advice in other articles on our blog.

Backlinks

The only way you’ll get near the 1st page of Google is to have backlinks to your website.

Keyword Ratios

You’ll want to have about a 1% keyword ratio on all of your webpages.

Custom Images

Be sure to take photos of your surrounding community. This is a great way to make your website stand out.

Customer Testimonials

People buy based on testimonials. Load up your website with a lot of these.

Customer Testimonial Videos

Youtube channels are a great way to passively introduce yourself to your clients.

Blog

Your blog should always contain current information. This is a great way to attract more website visitors and potential clients.

Own several websites for the nearby neighborhoods

You can have multiple real estate websites and make each one specialize in a different neighborhood.

Curate Localized Content

Localized content is a sure way to stand out online.

Email:

Email Signature:

A simple email signature with your phone number, email address, and website address will help clients remember where to find out more about you.

Email Newsletter:

Email newsletter blasts will let your get your give-away information out there quickly!

CRM Autoresponders:

Setup your CRM to automatically email your clients and prospective clients a certain number of days after you talk with them. This is a great way never to forget who you’ve talked with.

Advertising Real Estate Marketing Ideas:

Advertising online is a way to get more leads now. You will need some landing pages for these visitors, but that is about it.  Your game plan should be to get their contact information and then put them into a drip sequence.  Real Estate Marketing Ideas around this type of campaign focus on the various types of platforms out there for you to advertise on.

Google Adwords:

Google ads are a quality but expensive way to drive traffic to your website.

Facebook Ads:

This is a cheaper alternative to Google Ads, but it takes a little more time to setup. Checkout our guide on Facebook ads.

Bing And Yahoo Ads:

Bing Ads provide a nice alternative to Google Ads. The platform is less competitive and thus cheaper than Google.  Usually this advertising platform can get you clicks as low as $.15.  This is a great way to get eyes on your houses you have for sale and promote your business.  You should try these ads at least once a month for your business.

Paid Ad Slot on Local Website:

Local website most likely sell slots on their page. You can purchase these slots for a very low monthly cost and get awesome traffic to your website.  I’ve found websites that list ads for under $5 a month.  These type of links also can help your SEO.  Real Estate Marketing Ideas that get you qualified website traffic and build your SEO presence are rare. Take advantage of this method today.

Partner with companies in other states;

By partnering with a moving company in another state, you can capture potential clients before they leave their own town.

Affiliates:

Affiliates will drive traffic in exchange for a ‘per lead’ fee. You can set the dollar amo from theokbrowne digest https://www.easyagentpro.com/cornerstone/200-real-estate-marketing-ideas/

[thatmomforem]

#greatmomspectations

There are certain things expected of moms. Or should I say a TON of things expected of moms… Keep an eye on your children. Keep them ‘in line.’ Make sure they’re quiet in public. Make sure they’re getting a good amount of sleep. Lose the baby weight. Stay on top of doctor’s appointments. Introduce a healthy diet. Help them become active in events or sports, or both. Comfort. Nurture. Love. The list goes on and on… and on. While I could certainly comment on each and every one of those, I’m going to hone in on one of these expectations that continuously escapes me - sending greeting cards.

When you’re little, you could give a shit about checking the mail. It’s quite literally the last thing on your mind. Something we don’t even really pay attention to until a few special days roll around - holidays and more importantly, our birthday. On these days, the excitement of checking the mail far outweighs almost everything (with the exception of whatever celebration is being planned). Why? Because birthday cards!!! And more importantly… the money or gift cards inside! But for the point of this mom expectation, I’m talking about the physical, paper card sitting in the mailbox at the end of the driveway.

As a child, cards in the mail are just a normal occurrence. Something we don’t think twice about – your birthday arrives and letters start to appear! Even as we become older, think high school or college, sending cards was always something your mom took care of. She may or may not have you sign it, but that was likely the most involvement you had.

Fast forward seven years – now I’m the mom and this sending of greeting cards is my responsibility. And let me tell you – it’s A LOT to handle. I save everyone’s birthday in the calendar on my phone and set a reminder for a week out so I have time to go get a card, get it signed, buy whatever gift (if applicable) to go with it and get the card sent out. I also save a list of everyone we (attempt to) send holiday cards to… which to be honest, is pretty excessive. Once each of these days arrive, I consistently find myself snoozing the week-out reminders, running to Target super late or adding ‘cards’ to my Kroger list. From there, I have to remember stamps – because who in 2017 keeps stamps lying around?! Make sure I have the correct address, get everything written and then into the mailbox. As simple as it sounds, I find this task to be so freaking difficult! And as if the process of getting them into the mail isn’t bad enough, insert the fact that I’m super picky about the cards that go out and it makes for a whole situation.

Example: Mother’s Day 2017. This was my first Mother’s Day with Em earth side, which means a spiral affect occurred. Em entering our lives made my mom a Nana, N’s mom a Mema for the sixth time and multiple people who we consider to be additional sets of parents became ‘second’ grandparents – one set in particular who have been a huge part of our lives for more than 10 years and now live right next door to my parents on three combined lots we refer to as their ‘compound.’ What does this mean for me – six, yes SIX Mother’s Day cards we’re going to be sending out. I had my mom from N and I, then to my mom (Nana) from Em. N’s mom from him and I, then from Em to Mema. Em to her ‘second’ grandma and then N and I to his sister and my cousin who has been an amazing help and resource ever since I found out I was pregnant. If you found that hard to follow, just imagine how I feel being the one that keeps up with them! HOLY CRAP LOAD OF CARDS!!!

Add to this the fact that I rarely just pick random cards and send them out – the message, look and idea behind the card has always been super important to me. I blame my mother for that – she’s always managed to find the most perfect cards to send and as such, standards have definitely been set high. So, as I approached this first Mother’s Day, I found myself standing in the Hallmark card aisle of Target, staring at the massive amounts of cards in front of me, taking a deep breath and simply starting from the top of the list of names I made. I probably stood there and read 142 cards before I decided on the correct one for each recipient. From there, I went home, laid them all out on my kitchen table and started the task of writing personal notes in each one. It’s always nice to send a card, but I feel like even a quick note makes it that much better! So there I was, writing until my hand was about to fall off, trying to shape sentences to express the overwhelming amount of love and gratitude I feel towards each of these women.

To not ruin all of my hard work up until this point, I made a run to the post office for stamps, collected all of the addresses and got my love letters in the mail about five days before that Sunday. NAILED IT. The amount of pride I felt in myself for accomplishing such a seemingly simple task was tremendous. I had actually gotten my life together! Pats her own back.

Fast forward not even a month later and I was back at square one, going through the same routine for Father’s Day. You think I’m joking about exactly how seriously ridiculous I am with the cards I pick… To my dad from N and I was one of the names on my long list of people to send a Father’s Day card to. My dad is a huge fan of margaritas and cruises, a Pharmacist by trade and a new member to the AppleWatch community.

During one of the many weekends I spent in Savannah, my parents helped to watch Em so I could have celebratory drinks with a few friends. Being a new mom and not having heard from my parents in a while, I sent a quick text asking how she was doing… To which my dad replied ‘Yes.’ Literally, he just said YES. I sent back a set of no less than 37 question marks, to which he replied ‘In a Meeting. Call you later.’ WHAT?! Dad!! You’re clearly using the quick responses on the AppleWatch… and simultaneously worrying the hell out of me!! Is something going so wrong you can barely text?! I tried responding again – everything ok over there?! His response… ‘In a Meeting. Call you later.’ DAD. Jesus! Get it together!! Last try on my end – Dad? Should I be worried?! His response… you guessed it – ‘In a Meeting. Call you later.’ At this point my friends and I are laughing hysterically… at least he tried, right?! And I’m pretty sure he would have called if something was truly wrong…  pretty sure. :)

Jump back to the Hallmark aisle picking out Father’s Day cards. After reading no less than 18 cards that were all wrong for my dad, I landed on one with the picture of a cell phone with texts on the outside.  I don’t remember the exact specifics of the card, but it definitely gave the gist of a dad struggling to text correctly. WINNER. At home, I wrote on the inside ‘I’d love to call and wish you a Happy Father’s Day, but I’m In a Meeting, Call you later.’ I sealed that sucker, wrote his address on it and very proudly popped it into the mail. NAILED IT AGAIN!

While that was obviously a major win, it’s birthdays that get me every year. I have yet to get the hang of staying on top of sending birthday cards, but it’s definitely something I strive for. I acknowledge there are so many more important things in life, but to me – getting excited while you run to the mailbox to check for cards is a big deal and I want to be a part of that.

I will figure this out one day! I will stop snoozing the reminders! I will make it to Target on time and I will have stamps at the ready! Today though…. Today I have to go Target to get my niece a birthday card… For her birthday that was July 23rd. Quick check your calendar, it’s August 29th … and I’m the worst.  

Huge props to the moms out there who are on top of their greeting card game! #notthismom

Em’s mom

[minitravellers]

So according to BBC breakfast today my generation (those born between 77 and 83) are called the Xennials - apparently we forged the way between the old & new and got the best of both worlds! We experienced a childhood of playing outside, children's TV, Mattel toys and the first home computers & consoles. Our generation saw the original Transformers, Care Bears, My Little Ponies and He-man. We adopted Cabbage Patch kids with squished faces, strange names and autographed bottoms. We had the Broom Cupboard, Going Live and Wacaday. We appreciated that we had 2 hours of tv that was just for us at the end of the school day. We sang the tunes to Willy Fogg and Dogtanian and thought that Cities of Gold would never end. We thought that Dynasty was super glamorous and Byker Grove was gritty. We all wanted to live on Ramsay Street and we cried when Scott and Charlene got married. (We secretly knew all along that Plain Jane would be pretty once she took her glasses off.) We watched Degrassi Junior High, read Sweet Valley High and wished we went to school in America. We got excited when the tv trolley was wheeled into our classrooms and had one BBC master computer that we got to use as a treat...usually to make a robot go round a maze or something equally as exciting. It didn't matter though because the BBC Master used floppy discs which were a thousand times faster than the cassettes we used on our Commodore 64s at home! We remember the countdown clock that the BBC showed before their school programmes & can remember being genuinely scared whilst watching 'Dark Towers.' The last day of school was games day and someone always brought in Screwball Scramble which nobody could ever complete! We could create our own games without staring at a computer screen. We played tag, denio 123 and British Bulldog (before the teachers banned it!) In the summertime a sprinkler could provide hours of fun. We didn't watch YouTube videos of people unboxing toys - we played with our own! A 'Choose your own Adventure' book allowed us to choose our own destiny - especially when we could go back to page 22 to avoid being killed! We learnt how to make plans without the need for WhatsApp, group messenger or email. We chatted for hours to our Friends on the land line & got yelled at by our dads when the phone bill arrived! Our friends were actual people that we knew - not online followers. We received real cards on our birthdays not text messages or exploding marshmallows and had to write actual thank you letters to our Grandma's rather than sending a message online. The postman used to come twice a day and there was no online shopping so the delivery of a parcel usually meant a present! Oh and we all really really wanted a Mr Frosty for Christmas but never ever got one! We took proper photos on actual cameras and had to wait for them to be developed before we could see how awful we looked. A 'selfie' was taken at arms length and usually came back from Truprint with an 'over exposed' sticker on it! There were no filters to disguise those spots & red eyes but on the plus side there was less embarrassment as the images would not be posted on social media for all the World to see! We had to use an actual book for our high school homework but discovered the joys of 'Ask Jeeves' as we did our A-levels - that was if our Mum wasn't on the phone hogging our dial up internet connection. At university we typed our essays & dissertations on a word processor as there were no laptops. We queued up to use the computer suites but spent most of our time sending long emails to other friends at uni rather than doing any work! We owned mobile phones that could not fit in your pocket and could only text people on the same network as you. We spent hours playing Snake on our Nokia 3310s. We all knew someone who had a pager but we could never really see the point in them! We grew up watching the greatest films ever made; Ghostbusters, The Goonies, Grease and Gremlins. We all watched Karate Kid and believed we could be a champion too because we could 'wax on...wax off.' We watched Dirty Dancing and hoped that one day we would have a holiday romance with a Patrick Swayze look a like. We watched the Back to The Future trilogy and worked out how old we would be in 2015 which seemed so far away. We grew up with an awareness of the World that our parents did not have. We giggled at 'Position of the fortnight' in More magazine and all read 'Forever' by Judy Bloom, but were still innocent enough to be shocked by Zammo's drug addiction on Grange Hill, PJ being shot in the eye with a paintball gun and the uncensored lyrics to 'Don't stop' (wiggle wiggle) by the Outhere Brothers. And as for the naked man playing tennis on the beach in the early sex education videos we watched at school - we were totally traumatised!! We also grew up to be more considerate of others. We remember the original Band Aid single and all the subsequent re-releases (even the dodgy 1990 version featuring Bros & Sonia) We can recall the horror we felt when John Craven showed us images of starving children in Ethiopia. We were the Blue Peter 'Bring & Buy sale' generation raising money for wells in Africa & orphans in Romania. We were fearful when we heard about the hole in the Ozone layer and embraced the 'No animal testing' mantra of the Body Shop. We saw the first televised lesbian kiss on Brookside, watched Mark die of AIDS on Eastenders and saw the demise of the old-school racist, homophobic & sexist comedians. We remember when a 10 penny mix up bought you 10 (or more!) sweets! When a MrFreeze cost 5p and Curly Wurlys were really long! We know the excitement of opening a box of cereal to retrieve the free gift hidden inside. We remember proper milk bottles on the doorstep & Barr pop where you got 20p back when you returned the bottle. We can never hear the words 'Accrington Stanley' without replying 'Who are they?' In a dodgy scouse accent. We didn't wear the most stylish of clothes & we never posted photos to share our daily outfits. Tammy Girl was the only place to shop till you fitted into Topshop sizes. A gift basket from Body Shop was the ultimate birthday gift and we slathered ourselves in Dewberry, White Musk, Exclaimation & Impulse believing that one day a stranger would actually stop to give us flowers on the street just like the advert. We made the move from vinyl to cassette and Cd. The Walkman was the ultimate accessory and we taped the top 40 every Sunday desperately trying to avoid the DJs voice! We read Smash Hits and Look In and tried to learn all the words to 'Joe le Taxi' because Vanessa Paradis seemed so sexy & aloof. We hoped one day that a boyfriend would present us with a mix tape but in the meanwhile we made our own. We boosted our cd collections by repeatedly subscribing to Brittania Music. Of course we now all have iTunes but we still can't bring ourselves to throw away our cd collections! We went to university before tuition fees and bought houses before prices became inaccessible. We watched Big Brother when it was good and cheered when Craig ousted Nasty Nick. We saw people become famous because they were talented - not just because they appeared on a reality show. We were old enough to be out partying on Millenium Eve and were relieved that the World did not succumb to the Millennium bug after all; no planes fell out of the sky and no nuclear bombs were launched by accident! We travelled more than our parents did thanks to the emergence of budget airlines, teletext holidays, inter-railing, Club 18-30 and Twentys. We thought we were so independent but still wanted our dads to drive us to the airport & still had to give our parents 'three rings' to let them know we had arrived safely. So yes, to all those who like me were the babies of the late 1970s, the children of the 80s, the teens of the 90s and the young adults of the new millenium, I think we did get the best deal. More technically savvy than our parents but experienced enough to know that social media & technology are not the be all and end all. To be honest I am pretty proud to be a Xennial - aren't you? http://ift.tt/2t37FoE