#it also helped me clear out some of my yarn stash now that I could see what I own and its not just stuffed in shopping bags

[rohans-daughter]

oh also look what my husband built for me

any guesses??

a yarn shelf!!! I suggested adding dowels on the sides for skeins, but he designed the rest, building it out of birch plywood, premade trim, and some oak scraps leftover from a job renovating a church.

I think this is my favorite thing that I own now.

[realityhelixcreates]

Lasabrjotr Chapter 56: Breaking the Fast(Over Someone’s Head)

Chapters: 56/? Fandom: Thor (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe Rating: Teen And Up Warnings: none Relationships: Loki x Reader (There We Go) Characters: Loki (Marvel), Thor(Marvel), Stephen Strange, Tony Stark, Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers, Vision Additional Tags: Post-Endgame: Best Possible Ending (Canon-Divergent), Bitches Gonna Bitch, When Shall We Three Meet Again, Here Have Some Foreshadowing

You woke in incredible comfort, tucked into Loki's arms. You'd never been in a more comfortable bed; the pillows and blankets were like clouds, and the company even better. Loki lay silent and still, his hair mussed, his pale face serene. You'd spent so much time kissing, and caressing, and cuddling that you had just eventually fallen asleep holding each other.

You stared into his sleeping face, absorbing everything that had happened. The way he had cupped your face and kissed you with such sweet ardor. How he'd held you in his lap and let his hands roam over your body, enthusiastically praising you, telling you about how he had been falling for you over all this time. You couldn't help but to babble about how you felt about him, in between kisses.

What it all boiled down to was that Loki Odinson, Crown Prince of Asgard, Scourge of New York, royalty, alien, and god...was totally into you. Somehow. And it sounded like he had been for some time.

In hindsight, it was really kind of obvious.

You smooched his nose, and he yawned, his eyes opening into an expression of delight.

“It wasn't a dream.” He whispered, and held you even tighter. “We're going to stay right here all day.”

You giggled. “As much as I'd love that, you know we can't. There's stuff to do, and royal guests to see...”

Loki mock-frowned. “You just had to bring them up, didn't you? And it was such a perfect morning. Speaking of, did you sleep well, my darling?”

“Um, yeah. Really well, actually.”

“Good, that's good. I want nothing but pleasure and comfort for you, when you are in my arms.”

He began kissing you again, heedless of any pointless little concerns like morning breath, but you knew from how he'd acted last night that you really would be here all day if you didn't do something.

You let it go on for a few more minutes-he really was intoxicating, after all-then pushed at his chest.

“Is something wrong?” He asked as he pulled away.

“We've gotta get up. Get some breakfast. Bathe.”

A sly smile broke across his face. “If you insist...”

“Not like that!” You slapped his chest. He released you, and you rolled out of bed. Your had slept in your dress, and it was badly rumpled now, the metal clasps cutting into your skin. Loki was up and out of his tunic in one motion.

“You know, it's okay to bathe together.” He said. “We do it all the time. I won't try anything.”

“Yeah, but...” But today was not the same as yesterday, and there wasn't any reason not to, was there? And Loki's hunger for intimacy was still clear and present. “Well...okay. But no funny business!”

“Yes, my Seidkona.” He breathed. His voice sent a shiver spiraling down your spine. You might be the one needing to keep a rein on yourself. You had seen Loki naked before, and it was a sight to behold.

You both changed separately, and Loki turned his back so that you could get into the bathtub. He was very gentlemanly, and you allowed him to scrub your back, which he did reverently, kissing the little marks the metal in your dress had left on your skin.

Watching Loki wash his hair was very distracting; the soap and water trickled down his body in the most alluring way.

This was so much like a fairy tale. The handsome prince, the steamy bath, the myth, the magic. Were you sure this was real?

“Is something wrong, dear?” He asked, soaping your arms. “Are you...rethinking?” The nervousness was palpable in his voice.

“No, no, nothing like that! It's just...What are we now? How will we make this work? Do we have to keep it secret? Will this cause a huge scandal?”

“Of course it will cause a scandal!” Loki laughed. “Why, when Thor brought his mortal home to Asgard, I was in solitary confinement in the dungeons, and even I heard about it! Such a thing had never happened! But once people got past the initial shock and outrage, they were mostly fine with it. Not entirely, of course, but he didn't have the whole of Asgard against him. This is where we have an advantage; we aren't the first to do this. For once, I'm not the lead in a scandal. And we are here, on Earth, surrounded by humans. Mixed relationships won't be uncommon. We shall be pioneers, you and I.”

You took the soap from him and shyly rubbed the suds over his chest and shoulders.

“So...does that mean you're my boyfriend now?” It was a strange word to apply to someone like Loki.

“You're my inamorata, yes, if you would like to be. I would like you to be.”

“And is this, um, is this an exclusive thing? I'd prefer that personally, but I get it if you want to keep your options ope-”

Loki snatched you into his arms with fierce speed, squishing your body against his slippery torso.

“I would have no one but you.” He nearly hissed. “I will not split my affections. I couldn't even think of it.”

“Oh. Well that's very reassuring.” You said, heart pounding. He had said he wouldn't try anything. “I just kinda want to know where we stand, what we are, you know, all that.”

“What we are is glorious.” Your skin slid against his, the muscles rippling under the soap, bringing a pink heat to his face. “And very slippery. Please pardon me, I got a little carried away.” He released you, stepping away. “I just wanted to assure you that I take this seriously. I am not toying with you; I would have this relationship grow, if you also would.”

You nodded, satisfied for the moment. This was real, not a fluke, not a seduction, not a dream.

The dress that awaited you was a soft and luxurious thing of green, orange, gold, and red, snake and floral embroidery trimming the hem. All of the warm layers had been taken in for you; you could tell from the brand new stitching.

Your book of sagas had illustrations in it as well as stories and, true to Saldis' explanation, all the women dressed like you now did, all the way down to the big, oval brooches that fastened to your shoulder straps, and the beads strung between them.

You still found it rather sweet that the tailors here were trying so hard to put you in what they thought would be 'familiar' clothing, and to dress you like what they felt was a fine, high class human lady.

High class American ladies didn't dress like this. In fact, nowadays, classy clothing was almost indistinguishable from everybody elses' clothes, just better tailored. It was less about the garment itself, and more about the name on the label. And the jewelry too, but the jewelry you wore with these lovely clothes was also very different from the classy ladies back home. A simple, minimalist approach was the preferred method for displaying wealth and importance back home. A diamond tennis bracelet, pure gold studs, a delicate chain with a single diamond drop.

Your jewelry, though no lesser in quality, definitely reflected an older approach. The oval strap brooches were large to you, the size of an egg-though the illustrations in you book showed that such brooches had one been much larger-and delicately engraved with elegantly knotted horned serpents, green stones winking from their eyes. Three strands of beads were strung across your chest between them; one of gold and silver, one of amber, and one of pearls. These were different than your usual strands of glass beads, or brightly colored yarn braids. In fact, everything was top of the line today: there were charms hanging from your beads, little moon-shaped crescents with intricate granulation, multi-looped clasps shaped like swans that you were meant to hang your chatelaine from. That consisted of your tiny, cylindrical emergency sewing kit, made of bone and silver, a silver, scallop-shaped hand mirror, a silver and shell compact containing tweezers, nail clippers, a file, tiny scissors, and a weird little spoon shaped object that you didn't yet know the function of, and the key to Loki's quarters.

Your apron was decorated with many strips of woven ribbon; red, orange, and yellow in geometric patterns, and the seams of your sleeves were trimmed with thick, clearly visible contrasting stitching,  your belt embroidered with birds, their long necks and long tails interlocking, flower-shaped silver buttons tacked on along its length, the ends clasped in decorative metal tips.

It was very cold this morning, so a warm, woolen cap, and a pair of gloves had also come along with the  ensemble, just as finely made as the rest of it. The cap had shimmering beads embroidered all around the rim, looking to you like a crown.

Everybody in this whole palace complex knew what you had gotten up to last night, didn't they? And now they were pulling out all the stops, or at least, as many as they were allowed to. They had sent you earrings, matching the little crescent moon charms on your bead strands, and an entire separate necklace, made of amber beads, and yet more crescent charms. Your slippers were embroidered velvet, and the stockings underneath were so soft and smooth that you almost couldn't stop touching them. Even the little phone holster that clipped onto your belt was touched with small details, the leather embossed with the image of a tree.

You wondered if the clothiers had beads and brooches and charms just sitting around in piles, or stashed in boxes. If, every day, they strung beads and charms onto strings and paired them up with whichever dress they had chosen for you that day. These brooches, with their green-eyed, horned snakes, seemed awfully specific for them to have had already made, and you wondered if Loki had had them commissioned. And if so, when?

Loki met you at the door, almost as decorated as you were. Asgardian men did not tend towards jewelry, beyond the occasional bead in their hair or beard, or the coronets that you assumed only Thor and Loki had the privilege of wearing. Instead, most of their precious metal and jewels were embedded into their clothes, in the form of armor or strap embellishments. Loki himself seemed to prefer asymmetrical hems and diagonal elements, and he was properly decked out in both. In fact, the cut of his black overcoat made it look like some kind of odd, tailed tuxedo, trimmed in silver and covered in embroidery, also black, that was only visible when the light struck it in a certain way.

“Ready for breakfast, precious?” He asked with a smile.

“We're laying it on a bit thick just for some oatmeal, aren't we?” You laughed, and he offered you his arm.

The banquet hall was full, for the first time since you had been there, full of Aesir and Avengers, Icelandic officials and Asgardian nobles. They all stopped talking, turning to look at the two of you, Loki standing tall and proud, his expression bright, you hanging off his arm, wearing something that evoked the image of a crown, and you were suddenly very aware of how all this must look.

Today was very different than yesterday.

“Good morning friends.” Loki said. “I hope the day finds you well.”

“Not as well as it finds you, evidently.” Tony grumbled. Pepper elbowed him in the side.

Nobody else said anything about it, going back to their conversations, but the sly looks, knowing grins, and glares followed you to your seat at Loki's side.

Breakfast was an elaborate affair that morning; to reflect the importance of the guests, you thought. Fruit carved like flowers, the fluffiest eggs and pancakes, plump sausage links, lingonberry preserves, and hot, sweet coffee. There was oatmeal and toast for those who wanted it, milk and juice as well.

Thor and Brunnhilde had seated Dr. Banner next to them, and were chatting amiably away. Banner looked a bit rougher than you expected him to, but you assumed that makeup and hair gel were a regular part of the photoshoots. Dr. Banner was notorious for not making live appearances, interviews, or PR tours, and you supposed you couldn't blame him. If anyone prized their alone time, it would be him.

Natasha Romanoff and Clint Barton had been seated next to you, though Clint seemed less pleased by the proximity to Loki. He kept shooting wary glances at the prince, who made no indication that he noticed. But as Natasha chatted with you about daily life in Asgard, Loki pressed his leg against yours under the table, gently nudging your foot with his.

He would become shameless, if you let him.

It was tempting.

After breakfast was a time of mingling, Aesir, Avenger and officials. Many of the nobles left, but those that stayed were drawn to the Avengers; new faces, reputed to have been strong and resourceful enough to pose a challenge to their prince. The language barrier posed a problem, but there were enough of them who could speak English to provide translation to their fellows.

Several of the officials approached you for various reasons; to inquire about your health and safety, to ask about the human encampments and the recent fight, and even to compliment you on your dress. You weren't sure how much information you were meant to give, and kept your answers short and polite. You didn't want to cause any trouble by being too loose-lipped.

The dour, somewhat scruffy fellow you recognized as being the Winter Soldier-but not anymore?-approached you on Steves behalf. “He wants to say he likes your dress, and that he's sorry for causing you problems last night. He didn't know you were involved.”

“None of that is his fault.” You pointed out. “I asked him to dance, and Loki wasn't communicating as effectively as he could have. Neither was I, I guess. I'm pretty sure it's safe for Captain Rogers to talk to me himself. Sorry you've gotten tangled up in this, but I'm putting an end to it now, Mr....?”

He paused, wearing an expression somewhat like a confused dog. He must have expected you to know his name already, but you only knew him by his former moniker.

“...Barnes.” He said, after along pause.

“Mr. Barnes. I don't want anyone playing this silly 'telephone' game. People are allowed to talk to me face to face, Loki doesn't actually control that. If he wants to get jealous about it, I'll just remind him why he shouldn't be.”

One corner of his mouth ticked upward, giving his sleepy eyes a rakish look. If he really was the same age as Steve, then he was probably a charmer, in his day.

“Couldn't happen to a nicer guy, I'm sure.” He said, then threw a look over his shoulder, to Steve. “Hey!” He called. “Talk to her yourself!”

You snorted in held-back laughter as Steve put his face in his hand, and Loki perked up like a cat who had just heard the scratching of a mouse. This was so much like something Tara would do.

Speaking of which...

“Excuse me for a moment.” You said, finding an unused corner of the hall and snapping a selfie, which you sent to Tara and your father, with a morning greeting. The phone was a godsend of the most literal kind, allowing you contact back home, so you didn't have to worry about how everyone was doing, and they could know how you fared as well.

The bakery at the grocery store you used to work at was apparently famous now. They sold baked goods themed after you and Loki, Thor and Asgard. It was ridiculous and goofy, and you were utterly charmed by the pictures Tara sent you; of cupcakes with sparkly icing to represent your magic-the cat was out of the bag on that-of croissants in Loki-themed packaging.

You were profoundly relieved that the people back home had decided to celebrate all this, rather than condemning and hating you, and you hoped the bakery would be wildly successful. You had to show Loki those croissants, though. He would love them.

You noticed Loki, the wizard Strange, and one of the Avengers you hadn't been formally introduced to-a tall, but relatively average looking man-all slipped into one of the banquet halls' many smaller side rooms, and wondered if you were supposed to be with them. But no, if you had, Loki would have come to collect you. They were probably just discussing something about magic. Maybe that unknown fellow was another mage? It seemed like there was always someone new on the team, however temporary.

“My mistress says that you are even more a fool than she first thought.” Said a barely familiar voice. You turned away from Mr. Barnes to the unwelcome sight of Gloa, and her maidservant.

“Oh, it's you guys again. Were you at the table? I hadn't noticed.”

Gloa spoke; her servant translated.

“She had believed that humankind was without manners or decorum, but you have proved it this morning by flaunting yourself so shamelessly. Who do you think you are?”

You heard Barnes shifting uncomfortably behind you. An Asgardian catfight was probably beyond his experience.

“I am Loki's Seidkona.” You said simply.

The servant sighed at her mistress's words. “You are Loki's harlot. You think it gives you importance, but you are nothing more than a powerless, decorative, and above all, temporary creature.”

“You know, the last person who called me something like that ended up in jail. So, what does she hope to get out of this? Is she jealous or something?” You were tired of this already, and it wasn't even lunchtime yet.

Gloa went red in the face.

“She says she would never have a creature so low and debased as Loki, that, prince or king, he will always be beneath her, and that only mortal slime would accept such as him. She says that he should start preparing your funerary boat early, and learn what it really means to mourn.”

You drew yourself up as tall as you could-still shorter than both Gloa and the maid-suddenly aware that you had at least as much jewelry and at least as fine clothing as Gloa did. She was probably stinging at your status being elevated to hers, as if she had done anything other than being born to earn hers. You were also aware that Mr. Barnes was no longer behind you, and was, in fact, nowhere to be seen.

You were alone in this.

“Your threats are pointless, and you are wasting my time, you useless, catty bi-”

                                                                          *****

“We need to keep in touch.” Strange said.

“I disagree.” Loki answered.

“Let me guess; it's because you hate me.”

“Very astute! I did not think you had it in you.”

“There are things we must discuss.” Vision interrupted, calm in the face of the other's ire. “About the stones.” In this private room, he had abandoned his human appearance, the yellow gem sparkling brightly in his scarlet forehead.

“Well, I've got mine, and he's got his, and you clearly have yours. What is it that we need to discuss?”

“Do you have yours?” Strange asked. “It's obvious that Vision has his, and quite clear that mine is still in my keeping.” He gestured to the pendant resting against his robes. “But all we have to assure us that you still have yours is your word, which, you understand, holds about as much water as a sieve here on Earth.”

Loki glared, holding out his hand. A ball of blue ice glowed in his palm, which also slowly turned blue.

“Just because I do not flaunt it like you fools, does not mean I don't have it.” He dropped his hand, the icy orb gone. “So are we done? You showed me yours, I showed you mine, are we a secret society now?”

Stephan grimaced at the innuendo, but Vision just tilted his head, not comprehending.

“There have been some odd fluctuations that I cannot quite explain.” He said. “I can sense when they are happening, but not what is causing them, nor whom.”

Loki took a seat, brow furrowing. “Fluctuations in the stones? What can you tell us about it?” That was indeed something worth discussing. Four of the stones were on Earth right now-something Loki thought very dangerous, but it couldn't be helped. The stones had chosen their own guardians, finally settling into balance. Loki didn't have any say in it.

“As near as I can describe it, since the stones are all at least somewhat sentient, the Mind Stone can sense them, perhaps even communicate with them. I cannot; I believe the higher functions of the Mind Stone work at a higher frequency than my matter-based body can reach. But I can feel it sometimes, and I believe what I am sensing is someone utilizing the power of at least one of the stones.”

Strange and Loki stared at him.

“That is very concerning.” Loki said. “Well. It's not me. I have not used the Stone for most of a year. I will use it again, but only to help better our Bifrost, and only when our engineers have worked out more of the stabilization problems.”

“Haven't used it at all.” Strange said. “No need for it.”

“And I use this only inasmuch as it allows me to exist.” Vision stated.

“The space pirates?” Strange ventured.

“Impossible.” Loki said. “It took all of them together just to contain the Power Stone, and they can no longer safely wield it without the flora colossus at full strength.”

“And our...ally on Vormir has not contacted us.” Vision pointed out. “He is not very loquacious, even with the technology we left him, but I am certain that if someone made an attempt at the soul stone, he would tell us.”

“Damn.” Loki said. “My brother is going to kill me.”

“As entertaining as that would be...why?” Strange asked.

“Because I believe we are going to need to contact Dr. Foster.”

“Ah, the sting of lost love.”

“Do they not get along?” Vision asked.

“Well, no...it's not that. It's a little complicated. But my brother has been extravagant in his vows never to bother her again.” Loki explained.

“You however, have taken no such vows.” Stephen pointed out.

“I have not.” Loki confirmed.

“So what is it with Asgardian royalty, and human women?” Strange asked. “Is it a fetish, or...”

“That's none of your-”

The door popped open, and Bucky peeked in. “Hey, Merlins. I think your girl's gonna get in a fistfight with some other lady. Tall dame, acting like a real pill. Doesn't speak a word of English, had someone other lady translating for her.”

“Gloa...” Loki said darkly. “Excuse me gentlemen... and Stephen. I have to go head off an incident.”

[rainbows-fanfics]

Two Dearest Friends (Chapter 11)

Summary:

Jack Skellington, the Pumpkin King of Halloween Town, meets Sally, a ragdoll created by Dr. Finklestein. A friendship blossoms between them as he introduces her to the world outside of her tower. Sally is falling for him as their relationship grows into something more, and Jack finds the same is happening to him.

A story where the Christmas incident never happens, and Jack and Sally find their happiness on their own.

Pairings: Jack Skellington/Sally

Their eyes meet for a split second before the smaller figure rushes to hide behind a building. But Jack's already seen her, and he rounds the corner quickly to catch up with her. He finds the ragdoll leaning against the wall, playing with her hair and jumping in surprise once she sees him standing in front of her. He finds this charming - surely she had seen him as well? "Hello there," He greets, his tone naturally warm. "Hi..." She attempts to be interested in the dead tree beside her, and for a moment, he feels like he's being ignored. But when he sees her hands climb up to her hair and curl the yarn strands within her finger, he realizes he's mistaken. He mentally dwells over what to say to Sally. His mind has been so jumbled with Halloween planning that he almost forgot how to greet a friend. He scolds himself for being so busy and doesn't notice the curious look in her black eyes as she observes him. "I was going to the Graveyard, just now." He tugs at his collar. "Would you like to join me?" He feels something harden in his bones as she grimaces, but notices she's not looking in his direction. Before he can turn his skull and see what she's looking at, she jumps to her feet and starts nodding enthusiastically, even starting to walk down the path before he does. He follows after her and offers an apologetic smile, rubbing the back of his skull as they enter the Outskirts. --------------------------- On their way to the Graveyard, he feels an ache in his spine. He attempts to crack it but comes to no avail. He stretches uncomfortably until he hears a pop and sighs in relief. That's when he finds her stare on him and realizes she's been watching the whole time. He grins in embarrassment as he returns to his previous position, holding his arms behind his back in a more dignified manner. As her eyes travel over his thin frame, Sally notices something. His limbs move freely and quickly, and he always appears so balanced. Like the complete opposite of her. Just watching him stretch intrigues her. He positioned his body in a way she hadn't thought possible. It was then she takes a good look at his thin frame and chest, her cheeks growing hotter the longer she stares. And when his gaze finds hers again, she can't find the courage to tear her eyes away. "You are really flexible," She comments, letting a breath out slowly. "Oh! Well, yes, I've been told that before." His slides his palm on the side of his skull. "Someone once told me I reminded them of a spider." "A spider?" He notices her fascination and nods slightly. "Well, it's probably because I can move like this." For demonstration, he ducks forward and rests his palms against the ground, moving the rest of his body in a second until it sinks down, then moves his knees so they make contact on the floor. Then he sprawls himself on the ground for a moment, a stance mimicking a spider, before he flips forward and brings himself back to his feet. When he looks at her, he finds her with amazed eyes and a mesmerized smile. It fuels his confidence with himself. When she notices he's looking at her, she clears her throat. "That was..." Her hand hovers in the air for a moment. "Just like a spider!" He chuckles. "I'm glad you think so, Sally. It's one of the things that makes me a showman." They arrive at the Graveyard's gates before anything more can be exchanged. He holds it open and motions for her to come in first. She shyly takes a step forward, passing him a smile, before arriving inside. He shuts the gates behind him and inhales deeply, already getting comfortable in its peaceful aura.

"The fog is wonderfully thick this time of year, don't you think?" She looks around and sniffs for herself, smelling the bits of bones Finklestein has stashed in his laboratory. Then she looks at the fog and notices just how thick it is. She can barely make out all the graves and pumpkins from this angle. "Why, yes, it is." He brushes past her and begins walking in a direction. She stumbles to follow him, obviously not wanting to lose him so quickly. She notices he's taking her to the spiral hill and slows down as he climbs it. When they're at the top, he taps the empty spot beside him. She flattens her dress and sits down like she has done before, the two of them sitting and absorbing their surroundings silently. The weather around them is cold, but every part of her feels hot. She drugged the Doctor earlier, out of fear more than anything. She still has no idea how she managed to bump into Jack, but she's glad she did. And she was surprised when he invited her to come with him. He looked so tired when he passed her; she thought he wouldn't notice they made contact at all! She unconsciously scoots closer to him and lets out a shaky sigh. Could she...tell him how she feels? No, no, that would be too sudden! But would he even feel the same way about her?... "This is exactly what I needed," His voice snaps her back into reality. "Some peace and quiet." She releases the breath she has been holding, relieved he finally said something. "Yes, I really needed it, too..." Thoughts of the Doctor begin to cloud her mind. She thinks of the encumbering demands that made her fear for her life. That if she messed up on anything, he would tamper with her brain. Or if she had said the wrong thing, he would threaten her with it again. She became the slave he has wanted for a few days, and already could she feel the life draining out of her, as if everything was pointless. She freed herself just to feel some meaning again, and only because she incidentally found the Deadly Nightshade in the Doctor's room. Jack looks over at her with a worried expression. "-I wasn't actually expecting you to agree with me. Is something the matter?" She goes quiet, wondering whether she should tell him. He's already done so much for her...asking anymore would just be selfish at this point. But he encourages her honesty and even promised she could come to him if anything was wrong. Yet, if Finklestein knew she blabbed again, he may as well go through with his promises. And that was the last thing she wanted. She doesn't know what to say and decides to let her imagined heart speak for her. "Things have been frightful at home. And...not the good type of fright. I needed to leave again. The Doctor says the more I see you, the more I'll be bothering you..." His mouth forms into an 'O', but no words escape. He registers her words several times, making vague gestures with his bony hands as he grasps for words. He eventually pulls himself together and spits out his reply. "--Well, first of all, you aren't bothersome to me at all. Your company is very...congenial, if I'd say so myself." She doesn't understand the word he used, but she's relieved to hear his response. For a moment, she actually had believed she was bothering him. She really shouldn't be seeing him so often as it is, but she can't help it. He...enjoys it. And she does, too. Her leaves flutter immensely. "Don't tell me he's been...doing those things to you again?" She bows her head guiltily. She knows he'll figure it out one way or the other. "Well...let's just say I've been realizing that the Doctor may be wrong about a few things..." He sits back exasperatedly. "-So he has." "Please, don't say anything at my convenience...he's been getting better about it; I can tell he's trying...he wouldn't want to upset his King-" "You shouldn't feel obligated to lie for him. Why would I find you out here if everything was perfectly fine at home?" She goes silent. She feels defeated for even trying to defend him at all. She was just trying to prevent the worst from happening. Apparently, her worry shows on her features, as the skeleton softens when he looks at her and nods slightly. She smiles, in relief that he understands, and comes forward to hug him again. But when they're close enough and she sees the surprised look on his skull, she retreats back to her spot and bites her lip nervously. "I was...I was, um, wondering if I could ask you some more things again?" She asks, desperately wanting to change topic. "They aren't about Halloween...they're more about you." He knows everything about her at this point, so she should get to know more about him in return. He isn't bothered by this, as the stitched smile returns to his skull and he leans more towards her. "That's fine. Go right ahead." She looks at him in surprise. Is he really okay with personal questions? The Doctor lectured her not to be too straightforward with people, or be so improper around her King. His welcoming nod of the skull only beckons her to ask the questions. She smiles and wonders what to ask first. "Well, what do you like to do? Besides your 'kingly' business..." He sits up attentively, apparently liking this question. "I'm sure you know how I like to read...I also like to do some math, and occasionally I'll run some experiments in my free time." He notices the lost look on her face. "-It's like what the Doctor does, except I do it for fun." She looks very impressed. "I hadn't thought of you liking stuff like that." "Then I guess you learned something new about me." He tilts his skull. "-I'm going to go ahead and assume you like to sew in your free time?" "Well, yes. And I like to cook...I've found a new recipe book I've been using to make the Doctor's meals lately." "Have you, now?" She nods excitedly. "I like cooking, too. But I don't do it as much as you." She notices he is less hesitant now than he was before with these questions. He is still waiting patiently for more. She brushes her hair back and thinks of what else to ask him. She has plenty, but she's scared in case she accidentally landed in unwanted territory... "I suppose I should also ask you about...well, the type of things you like?" She fumbles with her words. "I know you like Halloween-" His look changes. "-Well, you love Halloween, but...I don't know what else you really like." He thinks about it a little. "I guess my best answer would be art. I like to sing, as you know, but I also enjoy dancing and doing crafts. They're all fine hobbies." Her eyes flutter, suddenly remembering the things those Hanging Men said. Everything Jack could do and how talented he is...Then she remembers the monsters he sat with at that table, and she can't stop her thoughts from wandering. "I-I saw you in town, not too long ago. With these people that surrounded you at a table." She explains timidly. "You seemed close with them and they knew a lot about you. I was just wondering if they were your friends?" "I'm friends with everyone, Sally."   "Oh." Her face flushes red. That makes a lot of sense. Why he keeps getting stopped in town and why everyone talks to him so...casually. "I've made some friends, too...Just that day I was with the Hanging Tree, and the Band has talked to me a lot." "You mean James, John, and Jimmy? I'm well acquainted with them myself. They're very talented fellows, those three." Sally beams. He is friends with them, too? That must mean that they know a lot about Jack! She'll have to ask them once she sees them again. She tried her best to channel the excitement rising in her leaves; the same feeling the Doctor has warned her about for so long. It is all just so incredible - here she is sitting with The Pumpkin King and getting to know him! She's always wanted to talk with him more, and this day is turning in her favor thus far. The skeleton adjusts himself and doesn't bother sitting up properly, leaning over so he can admire her face. She looks much more attentive and happier than usual. He finds the look more appealing on her. Not that he doesn't like her shy nature, but it's nice to see her comfortable for once. "It's certainly new of you to start asking questions like these," He comments. "Has something brought this up?" She shakes her head, feeling somewhat shy again. "...I just wanted to get to know you more. Because friends know a lot about each other, right?" "Yes, that's right." He slowly nods his skull. "I don't mind it at all. It's actually been awhile since someone has talked to me like this. People are usually interested in what I have planned for Halloween rather than anything else I'm up to." She scrunches her nose in thought.  "That's silly. I'd like to know more about my King if I were them." "You are! And you keep happening to find me right when I come here. I think it's safe to say you have my full, undivided attention." He looks down at her and waits for her to ask him another question. She realizes this and ponders on what else to say. What to ask now? She wants to know everything about him, but that can't be done in one session. She'd have to take this one step at a time. "You said you manage everything about Halloween," She brings up. "What does that mean?" Ah, the boring stuff. He thinks, but answers regardless, "I organize and approve everything that has to do with Halloween. There's a lot of other things, too, but I'd spend too long talking about it." "What does the Mayor do?" The skeleton makes a noise, sounding like he suppressed a laugh. He clears his throat and gives an apologetic smile after. "Well, he does the first steps of everything for me, I suppose? He's mostly there to accept matters from the citizens directly when I can't." She can't stop herself from giggling. "He doesn't do much, does he?" Jack gives a relieved sigh. "Between you and me, he doesn't. He stresses a bit too much over nothing, sometimes." "I can tell," She thinks about his visit to the Doctor's. "He is a really nice man, though." "He's a close friend. Very good at heart," The Pumpkin King agrees. "A lot of the people here are. I hope Finklestein's didn't give you the wrong idea?" She shakes her head. "After meeting my friends here, Jack, I know that they're kind. Just like you." She feels a blush on her cheeks once more, but she means every word. His kindness has shown her a part of her world she has never seen...He helped her find Halloween Town past that dreadful Tower. She owes him everything for showing her the outside, and it's about time he very well knew it. He shuts his mouth to allow his stitched smile to grow to both ends of his skull. He feels differently about her compliments now. As if he accepts them before his mind can comprehend it. He isn't fully composed and he knows it, so he changes the subject. "I'm glad you were able to participate with the town. I'm sorry I didn't see you then." "I watched you with the children. They all looked so happy to see you. It only makes sense that they'd love a King as great as you." Jack grins, suddenly waving a hand in her direction. "-Ah, Sally, I - thank you. I try my best, especially at this time of year. Sometimes I get so swept up in work I get disconnected from everyone." She frowns, suddenly remembering how busy he will be. Will this be her last talk with him for awhile? She doesn't like the sound of that. She wants to be with him more...especially after everything that's happened. It hurts her just thinking of how long they'll be separated again. The Pumpkin King notices her change in demeanor and waves a hand to catch her attention again. "It's nothing to worry about, really. I'm fine. And the citizens get by perfectly well without me. I just enjoy being close with them, is all." She gives a forced smile, still feeling gloom from her thoughts. "Yes, that does sound good." He frowns and stares at her for a few moments. It pains him that the happiness is taken from her. And that was his fault, wasn't it? Oh, dear. He shouldn't have mentioned that at all. He finds her fidgeting with her hands in her lap and mentally decides he will get this girl to smile again. "Can I ask a question about you?" He asks. She looks up in disbelief. Was he really interested in knowing about her? "If you'd like, then of course..." "What do you like most about Halloween Town? From what you've seen and the people you've met, of course." She thinks about it. This place is wonderful, and there is nothing that bad about it. The people are friendly, the decorations are impressive, and they have such unique shops and foods. Though, something stands out from all of them. One particular person whom she loves that comes from such an amazing Town...who, undeniably, is her favorite thing among everything. Her eyes go half lidded as her heart speaks her words. "You..." She realizes what she is saying and her eyes snap open. Her phantom heart pounds in her ears as she goes to correct what she has said. "-r ruling!" She finishes. "The way you run the town is truly....admirable, Jack. Especially with all the work you have to do." She prays to a Halloween God that he can't see the blush growing rapidly on her clothed cheeks. She holds up a hand to her face to try and hide it. He looks very surprised still, and she knows she already blew her cover. But then he does something she doesn't expect - he relaxes his posture and scoots closer to her, to the point where there are only a few inches between them. "Thank you. I'm glad you found something to enjoy here. Halloween Town is very unique, and so are you, Sally. I have a feeling you'll fit in quite well here." Hope surfaces again in her chest. "You think so?" "Of course." She looks away from him and rubs the side of her arm. She is too flattered to think of words to say. The two of them have been complimenting each other left and right. She had only meant this to be a session to know more about him, yet now what she's learned that he wants her here. And he knows she'll fit in. "I should be paying the Doctor a visit sometime soon, don't you think?" She perks up at his question, sitting up attentively. "What for?" "To make sure he doesn't get any ideas with you. Ensure everything is alright there, and all. I have some others matters with him, anyway." He pauses and adds, "-If I remember right, you once asked me if you'd ever see me there again." He rests his hand on his lap and, for a moment, their arms brush against one another. "-Well, now you will."   She can't begin to describe the exhilaration she's experiencing. She has to hold back tears of joy as she tells him, "I'll look forward to your visit, Jack..." The thin man looks over at her curiously, finding she's no longer making eye contact. But he can tell just by the sound of her voice that she's relieved. His next trip to the Doctor's might be a little different, but at least he knows someone will be glad of his company. After awhile, he nods. "I think I will, too." Their voices eventually fade into silence. They continue to sit there, bathing in the comfortable yet cold atmosphere. It's clear, on a physical note, that they no longer mind each other's company. As for Sally, she relishes it. And as for Jack, this is the first time in years he's felt so relaxed in such a stressful time. He has only his new friend to thank for that. He looks over and finds her staring at him. She doesn't look away this time, and neither does he. Then, they both smile. She finds peace and consolation in his; he finds something refreshing and new in hers.

[gencottraux]

 Here’s the thing. I have a lot going on in my life. Sure, we all do. It’s really not an excuse. I imagine all of the things I could get done if there were more hours in the day!

  But, would I get them done? Or what I just start more things that I never finish while posting lots of pictures of Pugcat on his Instagram? (If you don’t follow Pugcat, you really should. He’s a very clever cat.) Pugcat may be the main reason I haven’t written many blog posts recently.

 Follow me, humans!

 Overseeing Pugcat’s social media is just one of the many ways I find to avoid doing the things I probably should be doing.

 There wasn’t the whole distracting world of social media when I was in graduate school the first time in the late 1980s, so back then my main technique for procrastination was house cleaning. That’s a pretty good one to have if you have any neat freak tendencies. I vacuumed the hell out of my house during that period. I liked to think it was a good time for reflecting on what I would start writing as soon as I was done vacuuming.

  I never solved a murder mystery while vacuuming, but I did eventually write my thesis and get my master’s degree. And my house has never been so clean!

  Procrastination is fine to a point, unless it becomes an endless cycle that leads to never ever actually accomplishing anything. Which is the loop I seem to be stuck in at the moment. I’ve started countless new art projects, am simultaneously reading about 6 books, am about to bake vegan Irish soda bread for Saint Patrick’s Day, and just signed up for French language lessons at the local adult school,  I have not managed to fold the 2 loads of laundry in progress, clear the pile of papers of off my desk, or get the long-suffering dog out for a walk.

 More of this, please!

 And then there’s the not so small matter of my doctoral dissertation, which I am now a semester behind on finishing. You’d think it would be less painful to sit down and work on it than to find ways not to do it, but you’d be wrong.

  I Googled the word procrastinate and found lots of articles on the different types of procrastination and procrastinators. Some keep it to 2 types, but there are also articles that go with up to 8 types, like this from braintrainingtools.org.

  There are countless books on procrastination, procrastination types, how to beat the urge toward procrastination, etc. I haven’t gotten around to reading any of them yet. (See what I did there, huh?)

  I’m fond of Mary Toolan’s idea that it is creative types who are prone to procrastination.

That procrastination monster, as she calls it, is so darn cute and just beckons to me.

 Speaking of creative types, one of my favorite methods of procrastination is procraftination.

Image from vicki-robinson.com.

 Until I start procrastinating on finishing any of the craft projects I started while procraftinating…Here are just a few of my unfinished craft projects. 

   And that doesn’t include my fabric stash, my yarn stash and knitting basket, my coloring books, etc. Maybe I should open a crafting studio! But that would take work, which I have shown I am adept at avoiding.

 Image from Dr. Todd Linaman.

 I even manage to multi-task procrastinate. If I am in the middle of a really good book (of the 6 that I am juggling), I can manage to justify to myself putting off many things for the sake of finishing the book, or just :getting to good stopping place”. Hey, reading is important and good for psychological hhealth.

  If I were just a housecat, then it would be completely normal for me to sleep, play, enjoy sun puddles, and generally be non-productive while making those around me happy.

 Foster cat Butterscotch has the right idea.

 In the meantime, I dream of becoming one of those people who finishes things, getting that PhD just in time to retire. Then I can read and craft and nap all I want! Oh wait, I do that anyway.

That gives me an idea. I can start drawing out plans for my ideal retirement house. It would include a craft room, a reading room, a foster cat room…I’d better make some coffee and get started on that! The laundry and the dissertation can wait.

Image from redbubble.com.

 With apologies to my dissertation committee, especially my committe chair, the amazing Kathia Laszlo, for my easily distracted brain. I will get it done, I promise! It’s just that I am the creative type. I can’t help it!

  As always, peace and hugs. 

I’ve been meaning to write about procrastination, but… Here's the thing. I have a lot going on in my life. Sure, we all do. It's really not an excuse.

[brittysaucefanfic]

Operation: Voltron

Part 35

Lance/ Keith

(First)(Previous)(Next)(AO3)

Lance is finishing up a book he snagged from Shiro’s office when he realizes how late it is. 

He sets the cheesy romance novel (the thought of Shiro in his office, engrossed in a cheesy romance novel has him fighting a burst of laughter) aside on the workout bench and looks up at the upstairs office. Most everyone has gone home by now, except for their fearless leaders. They were still upstairs planning or something. 

Lance could care less. 

His job on the team is simple. Be their front guy, steal or go undercover when they need him to, and make sure everyone gets out alive. Technically, that last one is mainly Keith and Shiro’s job, but Lance is starting to get fond of this ragtag group of weirdos. It would be a real bummer if one of them got hurt. 

Lance sighs long and hard as he tries to find something to do.

When his only options seem to be practicing his fighting or reading more cheesy romance novels he starts up the stairs to see if the others need help. He open’s the door, his eyes low when he does so.

“Hey do you need any-” Lance looks up and freezes. Shiro and Allura jump apart from where they had clearly been in a heavy make out session, faces flushed. Allura adjusts her top so her white bra is no longer showing, and Shiro runs his metal hand through his already messy hair floof. Lance snaps his jaw shut and turns on his heel. “Nope.” 

He sits back down on the workbench, a smirk on his lips. Guess the fearless leaders are a thing now. Lance picks up another cheesy romance novel and starts reading casually as he waits for the two of them to come downstairs. Maybe he could use this to his advantage, to get something he really wants. 

They descend the staircase at the same time, but Shiro doesn’t look at him, his face blood red. Allura has composed herself a little bit more than Shiro has. They split off, Shiro heading for the showers and Allura coming straight for him. Lance bites off his smile as best he can. Figures Shiro would be the shy one between them. 

“Lance.” Allura says, her voice kind of squeaky. She clears her throat, and speaks almost completely naturally. “Would you please do me the favour of not mentioning this to Coran?” 

That peeks Lance’s interest, and Allura seems to realize her mistake. Out of everyone on the team, everyone in the world Lance could tell, she asks him not to mention it to Coran? Not to Pidge, who is notorious for stashing away blackmail on people until she needs it. Not to Hunk, who is terrible at keeping secrets in the first place, or Keith, Shiro’s little brother. She doesn’t even ask Lance to pretend he never saw what he did. Just not to mention it to Coran.

Fascinating. 

“Why?” Lance asks, setting his book aside, and leaning forward in interest. Allura flushes again, but she takes a moment to compose herself. Deep breaths and closed eyes. 

“It’s just that,” Allura starts, her eyes glancing to the door where Shiro vanished through. “Everytime I start a relationship, Coran gives me the talk.” She says, finishing off with a strained whisper. Lance pops an eyebrow, his curiosity set on fire even more than ever.

“The bird and the bees, or the use protection?” The question sends another blush on her cheeks, and Lance hums to himself. He’s pretty sure he’s never seen the daughter of the late President Alfor lose her composure so easily before. Fascinating. 

“Both.” She says, her voice squeaking again. A smile curls on his lips against his will. This is perfect. He could totally milk this for whatever he wanted. Allura gets a wary look on her face so Lance settles his. 

“Okay.” He says, and Allura starts to relax. “On one condition I want an office, with a tall ceiling, and the ability to do whatever I want with it.” Allura’s face slackens in shock and disbelief. What? He didn’t say he wanted something big or ominous. He justs wants his own office, for many reasons, but mainly it helps set him on equal ground with everyone else. This way he’s not looked at as just a tool. He hates being looked at that way, h’s had enough of it to last two lifetimes. 

“That’s it? An office? That’s all you want?” Allura asks, her incredulity seeming to grow with every word. Lance huffs with a small pout. 

“I’m not a bad person Allura. It’s not like I want you to become my slave or something. Give me some credit, geez.” He says. Allura smiles genuinely and agrees. Satisfied, Lance picks up his book and casually brings up Shiro.

“Shiro’s been in the shower for a while, you should probably go check on him.” Lance says smiling. “Make sure he hasn’t fallen or anything.”

“Lance!” Allura says scandalized. Lance gives her a look, and her face flushes before she scurries off to the showers. Lance sneaks into Pidge’s office and puts on her headphones, not wanting to hear anything but music until they leave. 

Later that week the walls to Lance’s new office were standing. 

~~~

Keith walks into the Castle one day, and there they are, just popped up out of nowhere. Walls for another office, on the other side of Hunk’s on the right wall. Lance was still passed out on Hunk’s couch, in the office farthest from the doors. All of the offices were separate but connected. Pidge and Hunk’s were two offices, separated only by a wall and door, and now Hunk’s and Lance’s is the same. Keith and Shiro’s are the same, but they usually both just use Keith’s. 

It made the room a little bit lopsided, but it still seemed to work out. 

Keith dropped his work out bag in his office and goes to wake Lance. He’s barely able to fit on the small couch. His legs from mid thigh and down hung off the end, his upper body slanted so his head was just shy of hanging off the couch. He was close to the edge, one shift and he’s on the floor. 

A tempting thought.

He has an eye mask on, that looks like the eyes of a lion (except it’s blue, because of course) and Pidge’s headphones over his ears, blasting music. It’s not an uncommon sight to see Lance like this. The man can sleep practically everywhere and probably through a hurricane if he really tried. Keith gently lifts one of the headphones off his head, letting pop music flood the room. Keith smirks and draws in a deep breath and prepares to yell in Lance’s ear.

“WAKEY WAKEY SUNSHINE!” Keith yells at the top of his lungs. Lance flinches awake with a snort, and then face plants the floor when he shifts even slightly. The headphones slip off his head when falls, tangling around his shoulder and trapping one of his arms against his side. Lance groans and Keith bursts out laughing. 

Lance looks ridiculous. 

Like a cat tangled up in yarn. Keith laughs so hard tears fill his eyes. He forces himself to calm down, unable to stop a few chuckles from escaping as he wipes at his eyes. He shakes his head as Lance turns to look at him with evil eyes. Keith laughs again and walks away.

“You seem to have an office now Lance, wonder how you swung that.” Keith says. He looks back to see Lance struggling to stand, his arm still pinned by the overly long headphone cord. He nearly runs face first into the door to follow Keith. He watches as Lance seems to light up the moment the walls of his office come to view. 

Keith fights a smile as Lance unwraps himself from the cord, cursing in slurred Spanish, and then rushes to the new office. His heart flutters when Lance lets out a delighted squeal, and he tamps down the smile trying match the fluttering. He does not need that right now. 

Lance spends the rest of the day setting up his new office. 

Pidge and Hunk join him in listening to the commotion inside the new space, making idle chatter and guesses to what Lance could possibly be doing behind those walls. Throughout the day there’s noise from Lance’s office. During lunch, during training, during planning and even when they go downstairs to the gun range. 

Such sounds include, but are not limited to: screw gun noise, drilling, electric saws, and a hammer banging against the wall. Lance’s voice is also peppered into the noise. A few yelps of pain, grunts, cries of frustration. There was a crash at one point, quickly followed by Lance yelling “I’m okay!”

Keith feels like the entire ordeal is straight out of a cartoon montage. 

It’s almost dinner time and Lance still has yet to come out, even for food. The noise has died a bit, so everyone has gathered to see if he’ll finally show them his new office. Even Allura and Coran were waiting. Keith turns to Allura with a raised eyebrow. 

“Why exactly did you agree to this new office again?” He asks. Allura doesn’t answer, but her face reddens a little. He narrows his eyes at Allura, ready to pry it out of her, but he’s interrupted by Lance squeezing through a thin opening of his doorway. He’s kind of wild looking, the most unkempt he’s ever seen Lance be. Not even when he woke up was Lance this much of a mess. 

“Welcome comrades!” Lance yells, spreading his arms wide. “I would to thank everyone for their patience, I know it was agony. Especially for you Pidge, but fear not! The wait was worth it! I poured by blood, sweat and tears into this office, and I must say, I’m extremely proud of my work. Worthy of-” Keith cuts him off with annoyance.

“Are you going to show us your office or not?” Keith asks. Lance pouts at him but he brightens back into his usual smile. He bows, stepping aside to present the door like it was a King from another country. 

“Of course! Mi casa es tu casa, mi pequeña magdalena malhumorada.” Lance says, and Keith gets the feeling whatever he said was directed specifically at Keith. He ignores it and leads the group inside, but he’s shocked at what he sees. 

On the shared wall, directly in front of the door, is a long cream colored couch with a little table in the corner on the other side of it. On it is a lamp, and instead of drawers there’s empty bookshelves. On the opposite wall to the couch, pushed into the corner closest to the door, is a desk, flush to the wall. There’s hardly anything on it, just two picture frames and a computer and keyboard. A little lion plushy, also blue because of course in next to the computer. 

Across the long wall between the couch and desk, the one across from the door, is nothing but empty bookshelves. They only go chest high, and in the far corner, the shelf cuts into what looks like steps. Each step has a drawer. Above, directly above the little steps, is a hammock, stretched across  the corner a foot from the ceiling, and five feet off the ground. 

Lance eases his way into the room, and then turns to them with his arms spread, eyebrows wiggling expectantly. Keith has no words for how nice this office looks compared to everyone else’s. The only office in the Castle that looks quite so nice is Allura’s. But hers is bigger, spread out. And even though Lance has all of this in a normal sized office, it isn’t cramped in the least bit. 

Keith looks down at the floor when color catches his eye. It’s a blue rimmed rug with a blue lion crouched, ready to pounce. Where the hell is he getting all this Blue Lion stuff? 

“So? Nice right?” Lance says, his voice filled with pride. 

******

Just a little bit of a filler chapter. 

Spanish Translation:

Mi casa es tu casa, mi pequeña magdalena malhumorada=

My home is your home, my grouchy little cupcake.

******

(First)(Previous)(Next)(AO3) 

[dcnativegal]

Compulsion & Identity

Ruminations of a Certified Alcohol & Drug Counselor--Intern

I’m sitting in one of the group therapy sessions with clients who have kept sober from a variety of substances for months or perhaps only days. They pee into a cup or suck on a saliva stick to prove their sobriety to me and their probation officers. They are biding their time and showing up and jumping through hoops that include community service, visits to Treatment Court, and paying off probation fines. Each one of them has harrowing stories. I have so much respect for them. Even when I know for sure they are flat out lying.

I’m trying to understand what it’s like, mentally, emotionally, and socially as they maneuver through their lives and all their important relationships as a sober person. We talk about it. One person admitted, I still don’t know who I am, sober.  I know I was funnier when I was high…

I’m learning all about “Substance use disorder” which is the newest term. (No longer abuse, and less use of the term ‘addiction.’) I have a stack of books with titles like “Buzzed” and “Uppers and Downers.” I remember from my early social work training that there is a stunting of brain maturation when a person starts using a substance regularly. Each of these people starting using as young teenagers. The growing human learns to navigate through life with the help of the mellowing effects of pot, the mania and energy of meth, the disinhibitions of alcohol. There are supremely stupid choices that are made under the influences.  They don’t know how to deal with frustration, with a broken heart, with the moments included under the umbrella: ‘shit happens.’

I don’t know anyone who deals with ‘shit happens’ perfectly.  Well, maybe the Dalai Lama, and the late great Maya Angelou.

My personal drugs of choice are carbs and yarn. Carbs may kill me in the end. I’ve developed pancreatitis, in large part because it’s a side effect of an injectable drug that worked well for me for a couple of years. The other part of why is, simply, gluttony. (Noun. Habitual greed or excess in eating. Ouch. Literally.) My side started hurting in December, and I self-diagnosed kidney stones, so upped the liquids. Didn’t get into see my family nurse practitioner until mid-January. NOT kidney stones but pancreatitis. What the…?  Clear liquids for me. Who knew that there are dozens of kinds of broth.  Although the pain did not disappear, it lessened, and the lipase and other lab values went down to normal when I stuck to liquids. When I eat solids again, the pain and labs worsen. So I’ve been off and on solid food for a while. Every one to two weeks, I give a couple of vials of blood and 3 hours later, my nurse scolds me. Kinda like peeing into a cup, or sucking a saliva test strip. Clean UA? Good labs? It depends on behavior.

Humbling.

A client ‘bangs’ (injects) meth. I indulge in a cookie, or three. Not equivalent, exactly. But pancreatitis is dangerous. Meth is, too.

When ‘shit happens’ to me, which includes simply a bad day, I realized some time ago that I have  a sense of entitlement, of somehow ‘deserving’ the special treat of new yarn, or a Peppermint Patty. Because…. Insert self justification here….  I can imagine that some of the same justification goes on in the mind of people who use meth or pot or beer compulsively.  “I’ve been good… It was a shitty day… Fuck you, bossy bitch, I’m going out… “  As I stand in the checkout line at Safeway, I’m like, I’m tired, just one Peppermint Patty won’t kill me…

Dark chocolate, ice cream, cookies. I’ve heard alcoholics say that if there’s alcohol in the house, it calls to them. Same for me with chocolate. Valerie hides it. At the moment, I think we are totally out. Which is good. (I found her stash. ‘Bye, ‘bye stash. I am a gluttonous theif.)  I’ve been keeping a pile of tiny chocolates in my office for my clients. I give up. They’re all gone now. I couldn’t resist them. I’ll put stress balls in the box that held the mini-snickers and Twix. The Twix were very popular. I was especially fond of the mini-Milky Ways with dark chocolate. Val discovered Russell Stover’s sugar free peppermint patties. Oh. My. God. They are now on the banned list, even though they are sugar free. Even after I start feeling sick, I can eat 10 at a sitting. Like the rat hitting the cocaine water until he dies.

I knew someone who had a compulsion to use pornography. The idea would take root and next thing, that person would be walking into a strip club. Feeling disgusted later, dirty and depressed, the urge would diminish for a while, until the next time. My basic feeling about this whole arena is: tip the sex worker very well and be respectful. But, the compulsion, if it harms relationships with real live humans outside the club, is a problem. Not to mention how porn distorts what men think women actually enjoy.

Cravings.

Chocolate or yarn doesn’t HAVE to be a problem, but for me it is. Everything in moderation, except for me with sugar or yarn. I can ignore a wine bottle. No interest in illegal drugs. But keep sugar away from me. And no more yarn… hm… until I hit the new Willows store in Christmas Valley again.  Seed planted, insert rationalization: I’m supporting an independent local business! (I think this is called ‘stinkin’ thinking’. )

What is your ‘self medication’ of choice, dear reader?

Weed, which seems to be the drug of choice for teens in Lake County is a mixed bag. Pun intended. It made me paranoid and more anxious than I already was when I used it in college. It’s legal in some states but federally illegal. The medical marijuana card is a great thing for those who need it. I’ve seen the videos with people who have Parkinson’s go from violent tremors to graceful movement. For young people, though, I’ve seen it among my kids’ friends, how all motivation seems to vanish. It is the slacker’s drug of choice. I have teenaged clients who are mandated to see me because of weed, and they pee into a cup. I want for them every ounce of motivation to get them out of poverty and do well in school, find a trade, make a better living than their parents.

Our group discussion gave me a chance to revisit my own struggles with identity, as well as my own compulsive behavior.  Perhaps there is a parallel between my deep discovery in my early 40s that I am really and truly gay and my clients’ growing familiarity with their sober selves. For me, it was 2003. My husband had given me permission to figure out whether or not I was gay, bi, whatever. He’d had a serious heart attack, and earnestly pointed out that life is short. What a gift. What insanity.  This journey led to the end of our marriage, which was a hard and painful process but also, to lives lived with authenticity. Thank goddess for therapists. The kids survived and thrived, and he has been with a lovely, gifted, hilarious and STRAIGHT woman for something like 10 years. I have been with the cowhand for nearly 6.

What made that part of my history relevant, perhaps, to the path of the newly sober, is that I had to regroup my identity. As my children’s father put it, I’d changed teams. Not only was I on a different team, that team had a culture, a lingo, a look and feel that was perceptible by something called ‘gaydar’ which I had the beginnings of but really needed to step up. I rented every classic lesbian movie I could find, and some of them were terrible, but all of them taught me something. As a feminine-appearing gay woman, I needed to learn about femmes and femme culture since I am so not a butch. I read Joan Nestle, founder of the Lesbian Herstory Archives, and the hilarious Leslea Newman who wrote, ‘Out of the Closet with Nothing to Wear’, and the classic, “Heather has two Mommies.” I watched lesbians, especially in lesbian spaces. I learned about my own body, my own range of gender expression.

I moved to the Oregon Outback to be with my sweetie full time instead of half the year, and out here, I miss gay space (like a gay bar, community center, or Pride event), other gay people, any tiny glimpse of a gender bending queer sensibility.

We all feel this way, in each of our identities. Jewish people feel more comfortable when surrounded by other Jews. Women feel relaxed when there are no men present, and vice versa. Alcoholics can avoid the stigma when they are with other alcoholics. Ranchers enjoy the company of other ranchers.

Just this past week I met, FINALLY, another gay person who lives in Lake County. This person is married, and so now I know there are FOUR GAY PEOPLE IN LAKE COUNTY.  We’ll have a tiny gay pride parade in our living room come June, with a very large rainbow flag.

For my newly sober clients, it’s an adventure to learn who they are with their families, with their wives or husbands or girlfriends or boyfriends, with their employers, at their church. To say to their children, “yes, I have messed up, and I’m getting it together. No need to be sarcastic with me. I am still your parent.” They seek out the company of others in recovery to survive. There are several twelve step meetings in the county, thank goodness.  Since all of my clients started using in their early teens, there is a lot of growing up to do, all the while they have very real and heavy adult responsibility. It’s a lot to manage, in a punitive and financially strapped environment.  

For the sober, a hot bath has to take the place of a beer, or a bowl. All of those strong emotions cannot be mediated by a substance. Frustration? Anger? Sadness? How does one deal with those without an upper or a downer?  And if I have a rough day, I do not have to buy a Peppermint Patty.

I seek to relate to them and their stories, even while I immerse myself in online courses about substance use disorder. It’s a bit narcissistic, I know, to search for my own parallel struggle to humanize theirs. But as Anne Lamott once so wisely said, I am the turd around which the world revolves.

On New Year’s Eve, I went to Soul Collage at Toni’s house in Paisley, and made a New Year’s mandala (which I shared a picture of, two posts ago.)  In the center is a primate surrounded by bananas, and around the primate were examples of embodiment, words of encouragement, and healthy foods. It was shortly into 2017 that I was diagnosed with pancreatitis. I am now FORCED by my side pain and bad labs to get my eating act together, out of the realm of gluttony. Be careful what you wish for.

I went to Soul Collage again recently, and created two cards to help me tell the story of my clients, and also my own story. They depict the journey from serious faces to happy faces, with stops at

·        Know thine enemy and maybe befriend them, (the man and the skunk, the user and the dealer, the lesbian and the Trumpette)

·        Find your people and cuddle up to them to rest (like a pile of kittens)

·        Be creative in all things, with colored pencils or your new sense of who you can be now

·        Get used to feeling your feelings including the negative ones. They will not kill you. Smoking or ‘banging’ them away is procrastination. So are Peppermint Patties.

·        Do the work. No way to short cut the work. Carry the water that needs carrying and don’t be a whiney child about it. I know it’s a bitch to be a grownup and exercise self-control when other people are allowed to be such pains in the asses!!! Remember: sometimes, I AM THAT BITCH.

·        Allow time for joy, for running free, for deeply enjoying pleasure that doesn’t carry guilt. Find that joy if it’s new to you, the guilt-free kind! (Salad? Sigh. Knitting with the yarn I already own? YES.)

·        Make a home within yourself if not in the outside world. Make that home cozy and full of love. Beautiful and familiar. Full of life and healing. (I’m ALWAYS working at this, the finding and maintenance of home…)

The journey to sobriety, to a whole and generous life, is not a straight line, more like a circle or a spiral, hopefully forward. All the same, as Proust said,

The real voyage of discovery consists in not seeking new landscapes but in having new eyes.         

[jchallwritesthings]

The First Climb

I pull into the spot and put the car in park. She looks over to me and smiles that big toothy smile that I’ve come to love. We unbuckle and get out of the car. She goes to the back to get her new sneakers on. I told her that she should’ve broken them in before the hike, but she didn’t listen. She never listens. While she ties her new pink laces, I grab my pack from the trunk and open it to see if we have everything we need. We grabbed everything yesterday so we could come out today bright and early.

---

“Should I get the ones with the pink laces or no?” I looked up from the list and smiled.

“Get whichever pair you want. The pink laces will go well with the shirt you just picked out, though.” She smiled and grabbed the pink laced ones.

“What’s next on the list?”

“Trail mix, iced tea, and dried fruit.” She pulled a face. “What? We need to keep our energy up.” She stuck her tongue out, laughed, and smiled that big toothy smile, and we continued our shopping.

---

We eat our Clif bars at a picnic table at the base. Mine’s Blueberry Crisp, hers is White Chocolate Macadamia nut. After we finish and stash our garbage in the side pocket of my pack, we start the hike up, chatting about work, good books, and the weather. We stop and pause every few minutes or so for a snack and a drink. At one point she puts her hair up and comments on how long it’s gotten. I smile and compliment it. A passing hiker on the way down comments on the color, which sends both of us into a fit of giggles.

---

She grabbed the red dye first, then put it back and grabbed the purple. She can never make up her mind. She’d probably end up changing the color again in another month. I watched as she expertly mixed the dye and applied it to her hair. It was clear she’d done this many times before. I didn’t even know why she asked me to come over. Once she was done, she smiled and dragged me to the living room. We sat there and watched Sense8 for hours, until she realized that she still had the dye in her hair. By the time she had rinsed it all out, her hair looked practically black, with just a hint of purple to it.

“Wow. Not gonna lie, I actually really like it,” I said to her. “You only really see the purple when the light shines on it the right way. It’s really cool.” She smiled.

“I always thought I’d look better with darker hair anyway.” She smiled that big toothy smile again and we both started laughing.

---

About halfway up the mountain, we stop for a longer break. There’s this one spot that I always rest at with a big boulder that you can sit on. We both clamber up onto it and sit down to eat some fruit.

“You sure you’re fine?” I ask her.

“Oh yeah, this is great,” she says between labored breaths. She takes another drink of water.

“OK… I think we’re gonna rest here for a bit longer.” She shakes her head.

“Nah, nah I’m good. We can keep going. Don’t stop ‘til the top, right?” I can’t help but laugh. She’s always so stubborn.

---

“Laser tag?” I asked her.

“Yeah, laser tag.”

“You do realize the closest laser tag place is in Manchester, right?”

“I know.”

“And how are we going to get there?”

“I... haven’t quite figured that one out yet.” I chuckled. “Come on, I’m sure we can get a ride with someone.”

“By tomorrow? That’s a bit of a tall order. Can’t we just go bowling?”

“Again?” She put on her best pout.

“...OK, fine. We can go to laser tag. But I’m not paying for it this time.” She jumped and hugged me so hard I almost fell over.

“YES THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU SO SO SO MUCH!”

“I know you only want to go so you can shoot me a million times.”

“Not true! It’s also so I can laugh at you trying to shoot me!” I faked a groan, then we both laughed.

---

We get past the tree line ahead of schedule. She once again reminds me that it isn’t technically the tree line, and that the reason why the top of the mountain is bare is because the settlers chased all the wolves up here and set a fire that lasted for weeks, destroying all vegetation on top of the mountain. We pass a few older people sitting down for breaks. Early birds out to catch the top before all the young kids get out of bed, one of them tells us. We all laugh at that. One of the women we see recounts the tale of her first time up the mountain, “before you were even born, I’d wager.” We continue the small talk for a bit, then go along our merry way to the peak.

---

“What do you mean you’ve never been up the mountain? You’ve lived here for 5 years and you’ve never gone up?”

“I dunno, it just never felt like something I should do. Plus, I’ve kind of had other things on my mind.” I couldn’t believe it.

“OK, that’s it. First weekend we can, I am dragging you up that mountain. Honestly, I can’t believe I’ve let you go this long without telling me.”

“Oh, like it’s such a big deal. When was the first time you went up the mountain?”

“When I was 10 months old. My dad carried me up. I’ve gone up at least once a year since then.”

“OK, wow, that is impressive. Fine, I’ll go with you. I need new sneakers first, though.”

“If I buy you the new sneakers, will you go up with me?”

“I was going to anyway, but now that you’ve said it…” She smiled as I pretend-punched her arm. We both laughed before finishing our coffees.

---

At last we make it to the peak. It’s a clear day, so I point out all the landmarks to her.

“...And that way is Boston. Used to be, on the clearest days, you could see the city from here, but all the smog gets in the way now.”

“I dunno, I think I see the top of the Prue.” She squints and shades her eyes from the sun.

“Bull. I’ve never once seen the Prue from here, not since 2005.” Regardless, I do the same. Lo and behold, there it is, a spire sticking out of the cloud like a needle from a ball of yarn. “Well I’ll be damned.”

“Ha! Told you.” I shake my head and take another drink of my tea. We both sit down and start on our sandwiches.

“Hey, I think I can see my house from here.” She frowns at me. I look at her and smile, my mouth full of PB&J. She laughs. I laugh. She punches my arm. We finish the sandwiches and start heading back down. As we’re about halfway down, a man stops us.

“Tom, is that you?” She freezes up. I tense up, ready to spring into action.

“I’m sorry, you must have me mistaken for someone else.” I can sense the veiled anger and emotion in her voice. She turns to me. “Let’s go.”

“Hang on sir, I just…” But we’re already gone. She’s practically running. I’m doing my best to keep up with her. We don’t stop until we get to the car. She’s crying.

“Fuck that guy. How did he even find me?” she says.

“It’s OK. We can just…”

“Just what? If he knew… “Tom”... then he might know my parents. What if-”

“It’ll be OK. He’s probably just some asshole from school. He looked too young to know your parents. Besides, he probably broke his neck trying to follow us back down the mountain. I think we broke some kind of land speed record or something.” She laughs. “C’mon, let’s head home. I have a bottle of wine and a Netflix subscription calling our names.” She nods, smiles, and buckles in. I start the car and drive away. As I’m pulling out, I see the man looking around the parking lot. Looks like it’ll only be one time this summer, I think to myself.

Anything for her, though. Anything for her.

[kenmmcshane]

Select Sock Sale... THANK YOU!

Woah, you all really know a good deal when you see one! As part of our Week Long Release Party for our new Poste Yarn collection, Select Sock, we offered an introductory price of $16 and it has nearly cleared us out of yarn in just a couple days! Most of the speckles and multicolors are gone, and while we do have some tonal colors left, most of those just have a couple skeins available. We do have this yarn on the dye schedule again for April, but keep in mind that the price goes up to the original price of $18 in a few days. Yeah, that's still a really great deal though, I know. We keep the price low by seeking out great deals on fiber, and then dyeing it all in house. Then we pass the savings right onto you!

I was going to post today with color combo for patterns, but all of my ideas won't help you now because the colors are gone! We originally had 44 colors, and now have a third of that, and every combo I was going to share had at least one of the sold out colors included. So I think I'll share all those project ideas when the colors are available again.

I will share another combo I'm obsessed with right now. Life in the Long Grass in Rose Gold, Weathered and Barefoot. I mean, look at these together! Are they not totally Fade-worthy? Not only would they be awesome for Free Your Fade ,but can't you also see this in the new Joji pattern, Washed out? WOW. These are all shown on Singles but I have them on DK and Sock too. You could totally add a color at either side of this fade and make this DK So Faded sweater.

Should you want to fade something else in Life in the Long Grass, we have an amazingly beautiful array of colors right now and we are always happy to help if you want to e-mail us with your fave color or two, or give us a color to start from or build around. Ocean Flight (shown above) is one of their new colors, and I think it looks particularly super on DK. I could really use a hat in this..... so I think a skein will now be stashed.

Finally, Caroline dyed up a color that isn't in her dye schedule right now, but we've had so many requests for it that she did us the favor of dyeing up a batch just for us (and you). You might remember Garden Party, shown here on Sock (available on Skinny and DK too). You should really grab some now if it's one you've been waiting for.

I'm betting Caroline wanted to dye up Garden Party just because the weather in Cork Co, Ireland is so bleak and oddly snowy right now that she needed some color in her life! Take a look at this picture- this definitely isn't what I think of when I think of Ireland, right? 

How's the weather where you are? We had a really bad winter here in NE Indiana- so much snow and ice, but the low temps are what really got to me. Finally we are in the 40's here, so it's definitely cold and windy, but the sun has been out all week, which is a really welcome change. I'm SO looking forward to spring. You?

  from pussyfoott2b http://simplysockyarn.typepad.com/simply_socks_yarn_co/2018/03/select-sock-sale-thank-you.html via http://www.rssmix.com/

[bestnewsmag-blog]

New Post has been published on Bestnewsmag

New Post has been published on https://bestnewsmag.com/dok-malware-takes-complete-control-of-your-mac/

Dok Malware Takes Complete Control of Your Mac

The times of malware being only a trouble for Home windows users are lengthy long gone, with malicious software program now acting for all predominant running systems. The today’s, and maximum dangerous to hit the Mac but, is known as OSX/Dok. It objectives any and all versions of Mac OS X and will take complete manipulate of your Mac if you allow it.

  Wireless’s the best information: in order for Dok to infect a Mac the consumer needs to open a.Zip archive connected to an email. The general public’s suspicions may be raised as quickly as they see the Dokument.Zip archive attached to an e mail they do not understand. The ones that do not are in for a few ache.

Complete Control of Your MacIn accordance to check Point,

Dok is not presently detected on VirusTotal, that means it may not get picked up by using any safety software run to your machine (this will in all likelihood change quickly). Dok also uses a developer certificate this is signed and consequently authenticated with the aid of Apple, which means your Mac will permit it to put in and Gatekeeper is on no assist.

Once efficaciously established for your device, Dok enjoys entire get entry to all communications, even Those sent over encrypted SSL. Such get entry to is achieved with the aid of quietly redirecting the consumer’s visitors via a malicious proxy server. All site visitors may be monitored and the attacker can cherry pick via the info. Once executed, the malware deletes itself from the gadget. You may be thinking you do love the manner they look, but you can not come up with the money for to pay for them. It is actual a number of them are very highly-priced. But, that does not must be the case whilst you shop around for great deals. permit other human beings to assume you paid a fortune in your Persian rugs however you can experience amazing understanding you did not.

They’re going to accessory any place of your own home or commercial enterprise. They appearance splendid on hardwood flooring. you can additionally use them on top of different carpeting so that you can guard heavy visitors regions. The hand woven products are more long lasting than many human beings accept as true with. They aren’t going to disintegrate. The details they provide are going to depart you in awe!

    Colorations and Styles With so many remarkable picks available, you could select Persian rugs which are a notable mixture of your Colours and designs already in place. Take a while to look around and discover exactly what you are looking for. you may also discover the precise size for any region. maximum of them function an expansion of colors that blend with each other and make incredible designs.

The layout you will locate on Persian rugs regularly depends on the area the design is from. a number of them are a consultant of villages or tribes, others are from towns Syria or Iraq. Others which can be famous represent both Afghanistan or Pakistan. The natural dyes used in them are not going to vanish or display signs and symptoms of age.

Customised It is viable to get them created simply the manner you need them. It does value extra for them to be customized but It’s miles well worth the funding. you could choose the colors used and the designs to be created. you could also pick out the size so they’ll be a really perfect in shape for any vicinity wherein you intend to location them.

It could take time to get these customised rugs completed though. It depends on what you order and where you order it. Be patient for the paintings to be performed although due to the fact you’ll be pleased with the final results. It is going to be a incredible manner to feature some way of life to any region you decide to location them.

fee When it comes to Persian rugs the fee can drastically vary. Make sure you pay for notable fine and not a cheap imitation. those merchandise must be made to remaining and keep together for a totally long term. yet you do not should spend a fortune to get something that has all of the first-rate in vicinity. Take the time to look around and evaluate so that you don’t over pay.

compare the charges and investigate the workmanship that is a part of the product you’re looking at. now not all of them are made with the equal interest to detail and the identical fine weaving techniques. The extra you already know about the process, the simpler It’s far to make certain you get a exceptional product.

Persian rugs need the right care so one can preserve them searching first-rate. You ought to never place them into a washing system or a dryer. Alternatively, you have to have them professionally cleaned at everyday intervals. Each six months works properly unless you have got them in high traffic areas. Then you definitively must have them wiped clean Every three months.

Has the best choice of high-quality rugs around! We’re proud to make it low cost so as to have precisely what you need. these delightful rugs let you to accent and whole a search for any room in your property. They may be also perfect for an office placing. We upload new items all of the time in a selection of colors, sizes, and designs. Before you spend an excessive amount of cash on such items, test out what we’ve got. We only promote well made products which might be going to arise to the check of time. They’re going to final and you’ll love how they look!

no longer only do I’ve a yarn stash, however I have stash trash or strash. Undergo with me as I resolve this phenomenon. Strash is my term for Those little bits of yarn that just do not quite make it to the trash. Forever, as I complete a crochet venture, I’ve leftovers. those small, typically acrylic, balls and extraneous tidbits manage to accumulate via no fault of their own.

As they linger in my hand, I debate their fates. I dare no longer throw them away. I reach for a clean-sided, zippered box (formerly the house of recent sheets) wherein to imprison them. Whilst the yarn “prison” receives full, I make a striped hat with complementary colours. Sure, it is probably treacherous yarn that rips up my palms or is not possible to work with. you already know the kind. You go out and buy something you thought seemed lovely most effective to have it switch on you and grow to be your worst nightmare. Frugal person that you are, you can not throw it away. You stick it in a trash bucket and desire that a few day, after you have got forgotten how merciless that yarn As soon as changed into, you will drag it out again and deliver it a 2d risk.

In the intervening time these nugatory prison balls (or yardbirds, in case you select) activate me and imprison me with their opportunities. I launch a number of those rejects from their overcrowded, zipped up prison and from them create hatbands and ornamental vegetation, edgings and pom poms. those colorful lollygagging bits of fluff now tempt me in diverse approaches, that is, as an opportunity to spruce up my hats and other tasks. Now, in place of pooh-poohing small bits of yarn that I see as now not being worthy of my time, I actively are searching for them out Inside the stays and used trash buckets of others. If I do not use them all up, lower back they move internal their clear lockup. Continually on the lookout for new creations and unable to relinquish the riffraff, I struggle to complete off my trash and be freed from its wicked, wicked recidivism.

Copyright 2017 with the aid of Linda Okay Murdock. Linda Murdock blogs approximately Colorado and promotes its cunning humans. She also shows and describes some of her ultra-modern crocheting tasks on her weblog. To find greater serious pointers on craft marketing and promoting, study her other Crafting as a

Are you seeking out an app to reflect the screen of your iPhone on a Pc or Mac? If so, we suggest which you take a look at out 5KPlayer, that’s compatible with each Windows OS and Mac OS X. One of the finest features of this app is that It’s miles compatible with AirPlay. This selection permits you to use the player to mirror your phone screen on Home windows and Mac. therefore, you could experience your favored video games and other stuff on your Mac or Windows laptop. study directly to know how you could do it little by little.

How is it accomplished?

The display screen sharing is accomplished by using streaming the display onto the display of a Laptop or Mac. Clearly, the player helps heaps of AirPlay 1/3-birthday party apps. therefore, you do not need to take a whole lot of hassle and also you do not want wires or adapters both. All you want is your telephone, a mirroring app and a compute or Mac.

Observe those steps

in case you need to reveal the display of your iPhone or iPad at the large screen of a Pc, you may want to check out AirPlay. This protocol lets you to percentage documents among one of a kind products by way of Apple. As a count of reality, with This selection, you may reap the mirroring feature conveniently. To help you get the configuration done, we’ve described the whole manner step by step.

1. Wi-fiWiWireless, you need to visit the reputable website of the player. Subsequent, you have to visit the down load page and hit the down load button. Once the participant has been downloaded and hooked up, you must launch it.

2. Now, you should configure AirPlay for your computer. Within the Choices, you have to set a name and a password. for you to set off the characteristic, you should swipe the panel of your iPhone that indicates shortcuts. The password will maintain the unwanted users from gaining access to the app.

3. Your Next step is to hit the AirPlay button located close to the progress bar. Within the Mac, you may locate it at the top right nook of the window. The app gets activated. As soon as It’s miles on, you need to go ahead and Comply with the next step.

four. this is it. you may use your smartphone and the contents of the screen can be shown on your pc or Mac.

Don’t forget: in case you need to do the mirroring, Make sure your Mac and iPhone are connected thru the identical

As ways as the audio codecs are worried, 5KPlayer helps AAC, M4A, MP3, MOV, M4V, and MP4. If you have a file that the AirPlay would not guide, we recommend which you use a video converter app.

So, If you have now not used a mirroring app Before, we advocate which you take a look at out this player. Aside from this app, the net is complete of lots of apps that will let you experience your mobile phone content material for your PC or Mac. All you have to do is Observe the stairs explained above, particularly in case you are the use of the identical player we’ve got mentioned in this text

[marklipinski]

ARTspiration

Artists or art that turns me on and feeds my soul.  This piece is called Girl With Pigtails by Sir Samuel Henry William Llewellyn,  who was an English painter of the late 19th and early 20th Centuries

YOKE DU YOUR

Two elephants walk in the wilderness and spot a guy peeing at the bushes. One elephant nudges the other, “Man, I wonder how he ever manages to eat anything with that thing!”

DESIGNspiration

Look around you. Design is everywhere! Keep your eyes open. How can you incorporate the beauty that surrounds you into your art or craft?




IDEA I LOVE

I love the look of these ric rac flowers.  They look pretty easy to make.  Check it out here: http://todayscreativelife.com/how-to-make-ric-rac-flowers/

IDEA I LOVE

What kid wouldn’t love this cozy pillow bed? I’m trying to figure out the proportions for making an adult sized version.   Click on the like to find out how to make your own for your munchkins:  http://dabblesandbabbles.com/how-to-make-a-cozy-pillow-bed/

  YUMMY DISH!

CLASSIC MARINARA SAUCE

(No Sugar like the jar versions)

Ingredients

San Marzano tomatoes

extra-virgin olive oil

garlic cloves

dried whole chile, or crushed red pepper flakes

kosher salt

fresh basil

FOR THE FULL RECIPE, CLICK HERE  http://cooking.nytimes.com/recipes/1015987-classic-marinara-sauce?action=click&module=Collection+Page+Recipe+Card®ion=No-Sugar+Added&pgType=collection&rank=1

  IDEA I LOVE

  I’m a hoochie for little boxes, any kind of little boxes.  Needless to say, I was thrilled to find this cool tutorial for making embossed boxes from soda cans.  Let’s face it, it’s totally worth diabetes and morbid obesity just to get enough stash to create these little suckers.  Click on the link for the tutorial for making your own:

Click on the link for the tutorial for making your own: http://hackaday.com/2011/01/21/making-boxes-from-soda-cans/

BREATHLESS INSPIRATION 

Handmade marbles . . .

Aren’t these amazing?  You can buy your own handmade marbles and see more examples by clicking this link:  http://www.route66glassworks.com/Gallery.html

SO DRINK, CHUG-A-LUG CHUG-A-LUG

CHOCOLATE WHITE RUSSIAN 

Ingredients

Vodka

Kahlua

Heavy Cream

Chocolate Syrup

Ice

FOR THE FULL RECIPE, CLICK HERE  http://basilandbubbly.com/chocolate-white-russian/

IDEA I LOVE

Aren’t these sprocket pillows cute?  They’re not hard to make and are totally the right project to start with if you’re ever considering a Dresden Plate quilt block and fabric covered buttons are one of my all-time favorite idiot-proof things to make.  Heres’s the tutorial for making these fun pillows yourself: http://cluckclucksew.com/2011/03/tutorial-sprocket-pillows.html

WORDS TO LIVE BY

   IDEA I LOVE, CROCHETspiration

Grab your crochet hook and a pair of rubber flip-flops and, oh baby, you will have boots to die for. Make them even better by weaving ribbons into your crochet, embellish, hand-dye, etc.  If you have strong arches, these could be quite comfortable.  If you have feet as flat as Donald Duck, well, you’re screwed.    Here’s the tutorial on how to make a pair of your own boots:  http://makeanddocrew.com/crochet-boots-flip-flops-pattern-video/

MAN CAN LIVE BY BREAD ALONE!

MARK BITMAN’S NO-KNEAD BREAD

  Ingredients:

bread flour

instant yeast

salt

 Cornmeal or wheat bran 

  For the full recipe CLICK HERE:  http://cooking.nytimes.com/recipes/11376-no-knead-bread?action=click&module=Collection+Page+Recipe+Card®ion=No-Sugar+Added&pgType=collection&rank=6

MEMBA?

  And now a word  . . .

Now that the weather is cool, I’m heading back upstairs to continue clearing out my studio.  Get first dibs on all of my eBay listings when you follow the  Pickle Road Stash Busting page on Facebook!  Here’s the link: https://www.facebook.com/groups/PickleRoadStashBusting/

win WIN win

Check back here soon.  I’ll be a part of a blog hop and you can win the book I LOVE PRECUT QUILTS!

  SALE SALE SALE 

$5.00

Over 40% OFF the regular price of my digital Palm Beauty pattern

Today and Tomorrow only (January 28 &29 2017)

Order your Palm Beauty pattern here:  http://www.marklipinski.com/shop-2/

AND

COOKIES!

TWIX COOKIES

Ingredients

butter

powdered sugar

flour

vanilla

salt

caramel

milk chocolate chips

shortening

FOR THE FULL RECIPE, CLICK HERE  http://www.thisgrandmaisfun.com/twix-cookies-3/

LOL

JUST BECAUSE I SWOON 

 Documented 1971 Valentino Couture Italian Vogue Audrey Hepburn Gown Dress

DESIGNER: Valentino Couture, published in the 1971 Italian Vogue, in a different print, on model Isa Stoppi. The same blue version of this dress was worn by Audrey Hepburn in Italian Vogue 1971. The white long sleeve version of this dress, also seen in the photo with Isa Stoppi, was shown in the exhibit Valentino Retrospective.  $42,999

You might disagree, but although this dress costs a mint, it reminds me of something that Eunice might wear.

IDEA I LOVE!  

I think painting on fabric is an amazing talent.  It’s an amazing way to create your own fabric. Can’t draw?  So what?  There are so many cheating tools you can use – lightboxes, computer printouts, embroidery transfer papers…  Why not try it. It won’t break the bank, and you might just learn to love it.  Click on the link for more information on how to rock your fabric:  http://uniqart.blogspot.com/2015/02/tutorial-painting-on-fabric-with.html

    BE DAZZLED!

  This is a vintage piece of costume jewelry from 1948. It is marked, Coro with Pegasus and designed by Adolph Katz. It is in excellent condition.  $475 ‘

Here’s how you can own this piece: http://www.trifari.com/pages/cor1377.html

PATCHWORK, BABY!  QUILTspiration!

Call me sentimental, but I love cheddar in a quilt.  Make this easy traditional Album Patch quilt from McCall’s Quilting. Now, cupcakes, think out of the box.  This pattern can look totally contemporary with just a change of fabric colors.  Click-o on the link-o to get the pattern: http://www.mccallsquilting.com/content_downloads/Album_Patch_WEB_BONUS.pdf

SHOEspiration

  So what do you think of these Clear Floral Oxfords by Kunihiko Morinaga?  These are from the 2012 collection and made from leather, plastic, and embroidery!

IDEA I LOVE! 

What a great idea for upcycling your Altoids tin.  Make a pocket-sized watercolor box.  Listen, I know you’ve always to create an art journal on the run. Now’s your chance to honor your creativity or try something completely new.  Click on the link for a tutorial on how to make your own version of you watercolor box:

http://www.instructables.com/id/Altoids-Tin-Pocket-Sized-Watercolor-Box/?ALLSTEPS

  IDEA I LOVE!  KNITspiration!

These are the absolute cutest knitted pigs I’ve ever seen. I wish I could knit better; I’d try to tackle this. Instead, I’m going to have to sell my soul for one.  Not only that, I’m guessing the knitting shops still don’t have pink yarn in stock after the run for the Women’s March hats (well, unless you’re in Franklin, Tennessee  http://huff.to/2jzY8fT).

Here’s the pattern:  http://blueskyfibers.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/04/Oink1.pdf

GARDENspiration

Yummy! Make a freshwater terrarium. It can’t be any easier.  Here’s how to put one together for your home or office.  Look, if this works out, say goodbye to the bathtub.

Here’s the tutorial:  http://artseachic.blogspot.com/2013/07/diy-freshwater-terrarium.html

MUST HAVE

They say (whomeverthehelltheyare) that our phones are the filthiest and grimiest possessions we possess. No more, babycakes.  I want to zap my smartphone with this sanitizer.  Get one for you:

http://www.uncommongoods.com/product/phonesoap-smartphone-sanitizer

IDEA I LOVE!

A simple embroidery stitch can help you create the dopest border on napkins, collars, and almost anything (why not stitch on paper for homemade Valentine’s Day cards?).  To learn the technique, click on the link:

http://www.designsponge.com/2014/02/diy-project-chain-of-heart-napkins.html

TIP I LOVE

Isn’t this a great tip?  Organize your seam ripper, marking pencils, and snips by using a suction cup soap holder!  Take a look:

http://sewmanyways.blogspot.ca/2014/01/organizing-ideas-for-suction-cup-soap.html

EMBROIDERYspiration! 

LOVE this teeny tiny embroidery. What is better there is a tutorial for how to embroider your own version. What a terrific little embellishment for you bib overalls, mittens, jeans, or wherever you need a little life.  Start your project by clicking the link:

http://randomactsofamy.com/2016/09/09/tiny-embroidery-tutorial/

DESSERT!

BEST EVER JAPANESE COTTON CHEESECAKE

INGREDIENTS

Full cream milk or Low-fat milk Butter Cheese cream Plain flour Corn flour Egg yolks Vanilla flavor Egg whites Cream of tartar Sugar

 FOR THE FULL RECIPE, CLICK HERE  http://amirahwaznahku.blogspot.de/2014/06/best-ever-japanese-cotton-cheesecake.html

IDEA I LOVE

Dollar Store here I come.  Grab several colorful bags of garden glass and glue them to a window.  Glorious.   It’s so darn simple, but if I were you, I would campaign for the death penalty for anyone breaking a stained glass window before you make yours.  Start here:

http://www.hometalk.com/26593919/easy-stained-glass-window

 … and VALENTINEpiration IS HERE

These are designed to be fabric heart coasters.  I love them but I’d be afraid that the seams might tip my full glass of Old Turkey onto my rug, leaving me no option than to suck the juice from the carpet (like it hasn’t been done before).  You could add a little ribbon to the top so they can be used as doorknob decor.  I’d also love to see some embroidery accenting the fabric used for the hearts.   Here’s how you make these pretty Valentine coasters: http://www.thirtyhandmadedays.com/fabric-heart-coasters/

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Create Ric Rac Roses! Sew a Cozy Pillow Bed! DIY Embossed Metal Boxes! Learn to Make Sprocket Pillows! Crochet Sweater Boots! Paint Fabric using Inktense! Piece an Album Patch Quilt! Craft a Portable Watercolor Box! Knit a Flying Pig! Plant a Freshwater Terrarium! Embroider a set of Chain of Hearts Napkins! Create Stunning Stained Glass Windows! Sew Heart-Themed Coasters! Mini Embroidery Project! Make a Soda Can Rose! A Sewing Machine Tip! How to Spin Yarn! Sewing Ric Rac! PLUS . . . Recipes, Videos, Inspiration, Creativity, Ideas, and More ARTspiration Artists or art that turns me on and feeds my soul.  This piece is called