#love a weather change + coming down from covid

[princekirijo]

Man I've been so sleepy

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

hello readers. AITA for visiting a friend in another country before visiting a different friend in a different (neighboring, but still a good 7-10hr trip) country?

some context: friend 1 and i have been online friends for over a decade. by reasons of circumstance- they're a few years older than me so they could travel easier, their family is more affluent whereas mine couldn't shell out ~1k for an overseas flight until i was able to make that money myself as an adult, they had already graduated college and could travel easier than when i was still in college and could not (summer was technically an option but friend 1 hates hot weather and getting sweaty, so they always wanted to meet up in colder months, which limited my schedule)- the four times we've been able to hang out in person, they came to visit me instead of vice versa. the 4th time was a couple years ago, and they purchased tickets at the start of that year (2022). however, at the same start of that year, i got involved in a new community and met a lot of amazing people, especially friend 2, who quickly became one of my best friends in a short amount of time. it was just one of those instant connections, y'know?

anyway. fast forward about six months. since friend 1 was already coming here towards the end of 2022, and there was no refunding those tickets, friend 2 and i wound up making plans to see each other. but they couldn't easily afford the plane fare, so i decided to go visit them in their home country instead. part of the reason i never had done so with friend 1 before was bc i just wasn't mentally ready to be so far from family, in a different country, by myself - i had a lot of anxiety about such a long trip. i still had some now, but after going through covid and such, i changed a decent amount as a person, and wasn't quite as anxious anymore. i had also moved out, so i was more used to being away from family by then.

the trip with friend 2 wasn't going to happen until 2023. when friend 1 came to visit, however, they found out about the trip (by apparently looking through my likes on twitter, where friend 2 had made a post about it) and completely broke down. i had been trying to figure out a way to tell them, but had a feeling that any method would result in this exact reaction, so i had put it off, until i was unfortunately proven correct.

further context: friend 1 and i have never been great at honest communication. this is a fault of both of ours, but i feel like i am able to admit it more honestly, apologize/own up to it, and try and make changes. we met young and immature, and the majority of our talk over the years has been superficial, solely about fantasy characters. when i got too busy in college, and my time/interest in characters declined, i felt more and more like our relationship wasn't as fulfilling. i was afraid to bring this up because on two separate occasions in the past, when i mentioned hanging out with other friends (and in one if the situations, which was an online game, i invited friend 1 to join us) i was immediately ghosted by friend 1 for a few days. so i stopped feeling able to bring up any plans with friends going forward, for fear they wouldn't take it well. i made up excuses and lies when i DID hang out with other people to explain away my absence (we were used to talking daily, but it felt like an obligation after a time, as they'd always ask why i wasn't online for a day). obvs, none of this is healthy, but it led to how i (mis)handled the current situation.

friend 1 found out, we had a lot of difficult talks on a trip that was supposed to be fun, and throughout the remainder of the trip i basically felt watched for whenever i was on my phone - lots of passive aggressive comments dropped about how "they wouldn't use social media on a trip like this, bc they could just do that at home". i was accused of being in love with friend 2, bc why else would i wanna go visit them so soon into a friendship, of not wanting friend 1 to even be here, of "holding something that happened years ago" over them (the ghosting) when i tried to explain why i didn't tell them. (i don't hold the situations themselves against them anymore, but it's had a profound interaction on how i conduct myself in relationships now). they said that they wanted to be my first international experience, which i get, but in my mind, it's two completely different countries, and they were already coming to visit before these plans were even made. they also made it clear they didn't care about the circumstances, friend 1 just wanted to be "my first" no matter what i said. i felt/still feel like that's too controlling, basically asking me not to go hang out with friend 2 bc i didn't adhere to their timetable for it first.

i had an amazing time with friend 2, and it was just an overall more comfortable experience. i still feel like i owe friend 1 a visit, even though i don't see a long future for our dying friendship (and even, if i'm being very honest with myself, i don't want to go visit them). personally, i'm fine with this - we've just grown into different people imo. but they don't have many friends, and had a couple rough ghostings from previous friends of their own, so i feel guilty about wanting to call it quits on ours, which again i know they won't take well. i just don't think we're compatible anymore, but even so, this whole situation has continued to eat at me even though it's been nearly a year now. i keep wondering if i really am in the wrong here, if i wasn't as considerate as i should have been, if i shouldn't be so blase about ending a decade+ friendship.

so, AITA for visiting friend 2 in their country before friend 1?

[infinitelytheheartexpands]

on the cusp between childhood and adulthood, the sudden onset of grief when you weren’t in the room where it happened, and the impossible art of growing up in a very short time: or, why the princess of france from love’s labour’s lost means a lot to me personally

on the heels of reading as the princess of france with @socialshakespeare

heads up, the rest of this is going to get Very Long Very Quickly, so i’m putting it under a cut. tw for discussions of cancer, parental death, and grief.

so when @socialshakespeare announced that it would be doing love’s labour’s lost this month, in the box where you can put any additional notes about your casting preferences, i pretty much begged the admins to let me have a turn as the princess of france. y’know, i said, as a sort of twenty-first birthday present. and i was cast as the princess of france! thank you, socshakes! <3

but there was a very specific reason why i asked to play the princess of france.

and that reason is simply: she reminds me of me. more particularly, she reminds me of me from 2020, but me from 2020 was really the germination point of me today.

“savannah, everyone changed in 2020, 2020 was a fucking unbelievable year and it changed us all. it changed our whole world.” yeah. i’m well aware. but there’s a specific reason for me.

***

see, in early 2020, i was having a pretty decent time, actually. it was my senior year of high school, i had a great group of friends (much like the princess had her three ladies except my core friend group was bigger than that), things with my family weren’t great but i knew that come august i would be able to move out.

that first period of covid was awful and it changed so much and at times it felt like i was having a mental breakdown, but it wasn’t what ultimately ripped me apart that year.

you see, in 2018, about a month before my fifteenth birthday, my father was diagnosed with stage four pancreatic cancer. for a good long while, though, it seemed like he might beat the odds. treatments were working, he went to one of the best hospitals in the country to get good care, and we believed that he just might make it.

and then in the summer of 2020, things rapidly took a turn for the worse.

on july 20, 2020, we all got sat down and told that the treatments weren’t working anymore, and they had elected to put my father on hospice care. i sobbed all that night and into the next morning, but i had a cashier job that summer at walmart. i was an essential worker and i had to power through.

in love’s labour’s lost, everyone knows even before the princess arrives that her father is extremely sick. for heaven’s sake, it’s why the princess is there in the first place instead of the king. and yet the princess powers through. there’s deals to be made, familial honor to be defended, and there’s also that tiny matter of falling in love and playing with the joy and laughter that come with it. and the princess embraces it.

she is young, she is optimistic, she is a bit sheltered maybe yet so smart, she has devoted friends, she has seemingly all the time in the world because no one knows when the time runs out so might as well believe it never will, right?

my high school graduation came five days later, on july 25. a rare opportunity to see friends then and, at long last, after a two-month delay and twelve years of study before that, a chance to celebrate. relatives came in. we had cake and flowers. we took photos on the soccer field in 90-degree weather but it didn’t matter because we were together and we were so full of joy on that blue-sky day.

and after that, only nineteen days until leaving. i had been counting the days for months, excited for new possibilities, not understanding the impact. it would be easy, i thought. all that needed done were to pack my bags and suitcases and buy some last-minute things, say my goodbyes for now to my favorite people, enjoy every moment i could, and wait in a haze of delightful agony and optimism until the morning of august 13 came.

this went as planned for about three days.

july 29, 2020, started like any other day. i got my things together, had an argument with my stepmom about doing the dishes (you said i can’t do the dishes when it’s late and everyone’s asleep after i get off work, when do you expect me to do them), decided to start the dishwasher right before i left for work (if she was mad about it, then she could unload the dishwasher as needed and we could have this conversation when i got home, i reasoned) and went to walmart for my shift that day. i cut one of my fingers on a taco seasoning packet, watched some of the salzburg 2007 production of berlioz’s benvenuto cellini on my lunch break, and in general otherwise it was a pretty normal shift. and like all normal shifts, i took my sweet time getting out and getting home.

at about 5:15 i was dawdling and trying to find an excuse to not get in my car just yet when i got a call from my stepmom that basically went like this:

me: hi

stepmom: hey. are you coming home yet?

me: i will be there in a little bit.

stepmom: it’s been raining so you need to be careful getting home.

me: it hasn’t rained that much and i know how to drive in the rain.

stepmom: just be careful getting home. bye.

so i sighed and went “well i can’t put this off any longer”, and got in my car and put some more berlioz on and drove home, thinking about how she sounded upset over the phone and oh i was going to get a tongue-lashing for leaving the dishes in the dishwasher all day.

and just as i was pulling up, i noticed my older brother’s truck outside. huh, i thought, that’s weird. why is he here?

i pulled into the driveway and saw my stepmom sitting on the step outside the side door by herself. two thoughts about what this meant went into my head at about the same time:

option 1: uh oh my stepmom is big mad and she waited out here just so she could tell me off right when i got home

option 2: uh oh my brother and my stepmom got into a fight again for whatever reason and she just can’t deal with it right now

(both of these, for the record, were entirely plausible things that could have happened)

so i parked and got out and decided to not commit to either of these but just play this very strange situation as coolly as possible. i believe my exact words were “hey, what are you doing out here by your lonesome?”

and like monsieur marcade, she could only get out a handful of words, and it was left to me to fill in the meaning.

the meaning: savannah, your father is dead.

and, to quote a different shakespeare play, “i must be from thence.”

my father died and i wasn’t there.

***

this is the same fate to befall the princess of france: her political mission mixed with girls’ trip has taken her to navarre, to a world full of annoying yet beloved men and delightful games and amateur theatre filled with passion. and then she learns that her father all the way in paris has died, and she wasn’t there.

now we don’t know what the princess’ relationship with her father was like; this is not something that is discussed at all in the play. but i know what my relationship with my father was like. we didn’t always understand each other or agree on everything, but i loved him. and in a childhood where the concept of family was a loose one due to an over decade-long stretch of family drama, he was the one constant.

and then four days after my high school graduation, he was simply gone, never to return.

now some folks will probably go back to those days of late july and early august 2020 and see that i posted exactly nothing about all this. why? i just needed a space where i could forget, where i could live in denial for a little longer, where i could cling to something in my life that wasn’t about this unimaginable loss until i couldn’t anymore.

living in the late 1500s, with a whole country to newly run, no social media, and a permanent existence in the public eye, the princess does not have this sort of escape. she knows right away the awful truth. it is inevitable; she must leave this happy sojourn, this newfound love.

her first line after she realizes her father is dead shows that plainly: “boyet, prepare. i will away tonight.” and even as she plans to shut herself up in a mourning-house, it is at the same time that she will be learning first hand how to run her kingdom.

sixteen days after my father’s death, i left home to learn how to live on my own. and even before that, i got only five days of bereavement leave from work, and i went back to work the day after my father’s funeral. let alone the rest of the frantic preparations for leaving home and starting a brand new life alone—in the middle of a pandemic and now, with this grief weighing on me.

life and the world do not wait for grief.

and sixteen days is too fast to grow up.

you can’t just flip the switch from child to adult, especially when you’re grieving.

and when the world forces you to do so, it is truly awful.

there’s no closure to it. as another character mourns in the closing moments of the play, “our wooing doth not end like an old play.” well, neither did the princess’ relationship with her father.

to continue with the shakespeare allusions, as much as i love and am heartbroken by the deathbed reconciliation between king henry iv and prince hal in henry iv, part 2 (a scene i was lucky to get to read with socshakes last september and which still lives in my head rent free), sometimes it simply doesn’t work out that way and you’re still left to pick up the pieces and forever wonder what might have been in those final moments on top of it.

living without that—without those answers, without closure, without any sort of comfort, on top of everything else—is so, so hard.

it is widely accepted that the love’s labour’s won mentioned in the catalogues is, in fact, a lost sequel and not an alternate name for any number of surviving shakespeare comedies. and while i have never found love in the manner of any shakespeare comedy, i believe nonetheless that i am living the princess’ story—a young woman, always grieving, trying to learn about life and figure out how to live it in a hostile world, trying to balance all the things, trying to come to terms with closure that will never come to her.

love’s labour’s lost fills me with an ache by the end. a true heartache, a deep emotional pain like few other stories i have ever come across. when i first saw it, i praised it for being messy and real. i saw me in it. i saw my own grief. i saw what i could have been, the kind of person i was before that fateful and fatal summer, the realization that we must leave that self behind because they can no longer navigate this new world, the not wanting to let go, the not understanding why but knowing you have to anyway. to know you have to take the other road.

***

recently, for a local exhibit, a museum asked people in the area to send in writing about their regrets, something they wished had happened differently. mine was eventually one of the ones selected for inclusion. here it is.

in another lifetime, i am there when my father dies.

i am there, holding his hand, feeling the blood that connects us rush through him, hearing his breaths—however shallow.

skin on skin.

i’m able to tell him one last time that i love him, i will always love him. perhaps through all the pain that comes with a pancreatic cancer diagnosis, the sleep-like state he was in for most of the last two days, he will hear me and even respond.

my family can all grieve together, knowing we all saw it happen and we all got a strange sort of closure.

my relationship with him on this earth would not feel like a perpetually unfinished story, with an ending written when i wasn’t even there.

but it is this lifetime.

someone once said grief is just love with no place to go. i believe that. and, well, this is my life. i have to muddle through and believe, make closure out of thin air and time, let love go nowhere and everywhere.

***

so, life imitates art and vice versa. and thank you @socialshakespeare for letting me have this story that has come to mean so much to me in the few short months since i first came across it. <3

[bondsmagii]

What is your favorite city in the whole wide world?

honestly it's gotta be London. don't get me wrong, I still have a very soft spot in my heart for Dublin, which was the first city I ever fell in love with, but in terms of presence in my life and memories and impact, London can't be matched.

before COVID happened, I was lucky enough to spend up to six months of the year living in London, and every single time I went, I would still love it just as much -- probably more. there's something about the energy of the city that I vibe with very well, like we're on the same frequency. the kind of energy I possess when I'm in London is unparalled, and I love every moment of being there. I barely sleep and I'm never bored. there's always something to do, somewhere to go, things to see. even mundane things like doing housework or going shopping seems to be more fun there. I love everything from the nice and shiny tourist streets to the dodgy areas I have to scuttle through on my way home at 1am. the sight of the light spilling out onto a dark and rain-washed London street from my local pub where my friends are waiting does something to my soul that I can't quite describe.

I think above all it's London's timelessness that does it to me. you really do feel like anything is possible there; that truly the veil is thin, and that all time kind of exists side by side. this includes the future; the possibilities seem endless, and I've noticed that in a lot of writing about London, this quality is often outlined. it's like London reaches out and grabs the people that it wants and like or not, you're stuck there until it's finished with you. it becomes your city, every single person there has their very own London, and it's nothing short of magical. meet any person on the street and ask them what they think of the city and no matter if they're in the honeymoon stage or they're telling themselves they hate it, they'll still turn into a complete bard on the 11:43pm to Reading.

after an absence of two years thanks to the pandemic, I went back late last year. the weather was miserable and everything was 100x more expensive and I wasn't there for long, but it was like no time had passed at all. on the drive in from the airport my Uber driver was talking about how London is constantly changing, constantly shifting, constantly adapting, but how it's always still London, and he was right. there's a solid foundation under it all that peeks out across a distance of two thousand years to the present and tells you it's still your London; all across that time, if a person who loved the city was picked up and dropped down in the present day, they would immediately know where they were by feel alone. London has a phenomenal sense of identity. even if it's pitch-black outside, I can tell when we enter the airspace above it, or when the train enters its outer limits, from the way the air alone becomes charged. I imagine this is what people mean when they talk about "coming home."

[whotf-atemywaffles]

Stick Season

Bucky Barnes x reader No use of Y/N idk if there are any Tw's if there are let me know and i will update asap ( only ones i can think of are ) TW: Depression, events of endgame, not proofread

Summary:After being left heartbroken by Bucky, you research how to bring back those lost to the Snap and finally succeed with Scott Lang's help. You find Bucky in Romania, realizing you still love each other. You both return to the Avengers compound and catch up with the team. You vow to never let anything come between you again and fight to protect the world together.

1 day. 1 day was all it took, all it took for everything to be destroyed. You sighed as you lifted your head from your hands as you thought about how Bucky had promised you that you were more than all the miles combined. you and Bucky had attempted to try long-distance, while you were on a mission that required you to stay a few states away, the team could visit you; and as everyone says, it never works out, and as cliché as it sounds you replied with, Yeah but we will be different, oh how wrong you were…Bucky had promised you that you were worth more than any amount of miles he would drive to see you..but You had assumed he changed his mind; you were on the phone talking as bucky was driving too you, talking about everything and nothing all at once. Eventually his voice trailed off, exactly as he passed the exit sign that would’ve taken him to you, Kept on driving straight and left your future to the right…he must have changed his mind. You sat there, staring blankly at the wall as tears streamed down your face. Everything felt like it was falling apart, and you didn't know how to fix it. You couldn't believe that Bucky had just given up on your relationship like that. All those promises and sweet nothings, gone in an instant.

that was 2 years ago…

Now your mission is finally finished, all you wanted to do was return to the compound, while simultaneously never wanting to go back ever again. on the drive back it had begun to rain, well more downpour, provoking your newly found fear of weather, because you saw his face when it rained. When everything had happened you started to talk to a qualified therapist, who was not at all Bruce Banner…he told you that when you were done with your mission, you should travel. Now that everything is done, half of the world is missing, and there's Covid on the planes.

with a heavy sigh you keep driving, you're still a few hours out, almost there, you would’ve called, but you didn't know who was left, when the battle happened with thanos you ended up in space with Dr strange, Tony, and Peter. as soon as you made it back to earth much to Natasha’s protests you left, returning to your mission. You couldn't help but wonder what had happened to Bucky. Had he moved on? Had he found someone else? The thought made your heart ache. You tried to push it to the back of your mind and focus on the road ahead. 

As you drove, you realised that you didn't know what awaited you at the compound. Who was still alive? Who had been lost to the Snap? Despite your fears, you knew that you had to face whatever was ahead. You took a deep breath and kept driving, ready for whatever came next. You finally arrived at the compound, feeling a mix of relief and anxiety. As you stepped out of the car, you were greeted by a familiar face - Steve Rogers. He gave you a warm smile and a hug, and you felt a wave of emotion wash over you. You spent the rest of the day catching up with the Avengers who had survived the Snap, but one person was still missing. You couldn't help but wonder if Bucky was among the casualties. Natasha had noted you had been different, you laughed less, your eyes were more grey…But she decided not to say anything for the time being, You're no longer funny cause you miss the way he laughed That night, as you lay in bed, afraid of sleeping, because everytime you try you dream of some version of him. you made a decision - you were going to find out how to bring him back, no matter what. You spent the next few weeks pouring over research and talking to anyone who might have information on how to bring back those lost to the Snap. This was impossible. another 3 years passed. nothing, until. you were sitting in the compound with Natasha when Steve walked in, The two were talking, until you hear something on the camera outside, “Em… Hello? I don’t know if you remember me but im scott lang-or-Antman we met in Germany” He said while frantically flailing his arms around similar to one of those wacky inflatable arm-flailing tube men. 

“Is this a recording?” Steve asked. “It's a live feed” I say softly. “Let him in,” Nat says. Scott's arrival brought a glimmer of hope to the team. He explained that he had been trapped in the Quantum Realm during the Snap, but had managed to escape. He believed that the Quantum Realm held the key to reversing the Snap and bringing back those who were lost. The team listened intently as he explained his theory, and together they began to work on a plan to enter the Quantum Realm and retrieve the necessary materials to bring everyone back, with the help of Tony Stark. 

After months of preparation and a gruelling battle, the team was able to reverse the Snap and bring back those who were lost. As you looked around at the faces of your friends and loved ones, you couldn't help but feel grateful for the opportunity to make things right. But there was still one thing missing - Bucky. You knew that you had to find him, no matter what it took. You made a promise to yourself to never give up until you were reunited with the man you loved.

Months passed as you continued your search for Bucky. You followed every lead, talked to every contact, and scoured every corner of the globe. Just when you were about to give up hope, a lead took you to a small village in Romania. You couldn't believe your eyes when you saw him - Bucky, alive and well, but different. he was happy, and it broke your heart for some odd reason, maybe because when he left you were left hollow, drinking alcohol till your friends came home for Christmas, telling yourself you not playing the victim, because he actually just left, out of the blue. To think because of him you gave up being funny, and making jokes, because what's the point if the person you made them for isn’t there to laugh

You took a deep breath and approached him. He looked up and his face lit up when he saw you. You stood there for a moment, taking each other in, until he finally spoke. "I never thought I'd see you again," he said softly, tears in his eyes. “well, isn't that what you wanted?” You ask gently

"I thought it was what I wanted," Bucky replied, his voice barely above a whisper. "But being without you showed me that I was wrong. I was lost without you, and I didn't realise it until it was too late." You both stood there in silence for a moment, as you stand together your reminded of the dreams you had every time you close your eyes or every time it rained, of the man you didn't have, but did not lose

The two of you spent the next few weeks catching up on everything that had happened since you last saw each other. You talked about your missions, your fears, and your hopes for the future. It was as if no time had passed at all. You knew that things wouldn't be easy, that you both had a lot of healing to do, but you were willing to try. You made a promise to each other to never let anything come between you again. As you walked hand in hand through the streets of the small village, you felt as though you had finally found your way back home.

[pbandjesse]

I felt kind of down today. It wasn't a bad day! It was full of beautiful moments. But I felt down inside. I tried very hard to fight against it but it was tough. I'm just a little to hot and a little to tired. But I enjoyed being with my James. And it was a beautiful day, even if it was just a little but to warm.

I had some pretty serious and intense dreams. I woke up and had to wake James up to make sure they were okay. They seemed really concerned about how upset I was. But I was able to go back to sleep and have more intense dreams. So it wasn't the most restful sleep.

When I woke up for real I was so hot. We will have to figure out an ac unit soon for our bedroom. But it's not a huge deal. I will survive, even if I'm just a little uncomfy.

James would come up and see what I wanted to have for breakfast. I decided on a grilled peanut butter and jelly. And got dressed and loved how my hair dried. I washed it last night and let it air dry and while I have heard recently it can be bad to do that I actually think I'm going to go back to it because I was just so please today. I felt really pretty.

We would hang out in the living room. James made an appointment for our polio vaccines and said we could walk to the CVS at 1030. So that is just what we did. I struggled with shoe choices. I have raw spots from my docs so I thought I would wear my tevas but they also hit my sore spots so I tried socks and wanted to die from being to warm so I switched to some old flip flops and I would end up hating them by the time we got to the cvs. It isn't like I need new shoes but I do need to finally replace my flip flops from highschool that finally fell apart last year. I'll have to figure that out soon. Maybe tomorrow after work I'll go search.

We got over to the CVS. James was being really cute. And was really excited about the weather and how beautiful it was. I was a little to hot and was realizing how I should have worn sun screen. But I was having a nice time with James.

We got to the CVS and they were like. You don't have an appointment? Because it turns out we were at the wrong CVS. Oops. So we had to quickly walk home and drive to harbor east. Which would make us a few minutes late. I was pretty stressed. James would stay behind to pay for parking so I could go over the next block to get there. But then I didn't know where to go. It wasn't the pharmacy even though the sign said that was where vaccines were. It was actually the minute clinic. And then I didn't know what my confirmation number was and was a little frazzled.

James would come and we sorted it out. And the woman who worked there, who I Believe is a nurse?, was just so lovely. She told me I was totally fine and to not worry about being late. Which did make me feel better. But I was also a little stressed about the whole thing.

She wasn't sure if insurance was going to cover this but it actually did so that was good. And she was very good and it didn't hurt much. It hurts a little now but only like a small bruise. I asked if me and James would get medicine from the same vial and she said yes and I was like. Oh that's very romantic. And she thought it was very funny that me and James go to so many appointments together. She said her and her husband have never done that in 10 years together. Which I thought was pretty interesting. But maybe when you work in the medical field it's a different feeling.

James's appointment wasn't for an hour but she let James come early so we didn't have to wait. James got a COVID vaccine too but I had one recently so I didn't need it. James was very brave and got one in each arm.

While James was waiting their 15 minutes after their shots I went to get the dish soap we needed. It was locked up so I had to call for staff and the girl that came to do it was super complimentary about my tattoos and kept saying how cool I was. Which made me feel very cool.

We paid and left and James took me home to change my shoes. We got a water bottle and we headed to the park to enjoy the day. I was a little miserable. I changed into better shoes but I was still not feeling the best. And being to hot didn't help but it was beautiful out.

We walked around. We were going to go find the swings but they had that area all roped off for construction. Ah well. We sat on a bench and enjoyed watching people with their babies. And watching the inch worm try to climb on James's arm hair. It was very silly.

I decided I would like falafel for lunch. James found a Yemeni place! I didn't know that they would have falafel but it was good! I liked the size of it. I would have preferred it with a dipping sauce but I really enjoyed the half I had. We saved the other half for lunch tomorrow. The best part of the experience was that they brought us a sauce and a salad and a soup we didn't even order and it was good! I was having a great time.

We walked to the thrift store next. And I was so excited to find this little house. I swear I had a mini version of this same house that I used to play with so much that it fell apart. I was trying very hard to find the joyful moments today, so this find was really good. And if was only $5.

We would go get ice cream next. And that was fun. We decided to cool off in their AC and I am glad we did. James got red velvet and I got the dirty grasshopper again and I tried the cannoli flavor. It was fun and I was feeling a little more positive. Even if I was tired still.

We tried to walk in the shade on the way home as much as possible. We talked and laughed and it was just really nice being together. Even if I was still just a little sad.

When we got home I would hang out on the couch for a bit. James put the screen door in and that was nice. But I was pretty sun tired. So I would go lay down upstairs. I felt bad because we were going to work on wall paper today but I just really didn't have it in me.

James would set up a fan for me and I got changed and I fell asleep pretty quickly. I woke up very hot but I was able to keep sleeping.

I woke up at 630. And I was not having a great time. James brought me water and I laid and sipped. My stomach hurts but I was alright.

James would go record their podcast and I hung out on the couch. And eventually James was done podcast and they came and made us a late dinner.

I decided I wanted spaghetti but I wanted the pasta to be dry, no pasta water left. And James thought that was weird but it was exactly what I wanted. They even baked some mozzarella for the top. I was so happy.

And now we are just hanging out. I am so tired. But it is almost bed time.

Tomorrow I think I have two different field trips at camp. But that's alright. It should be a very good day. Not as hot, but still beautiful. And lots of shade.

I hope you all have a good night tonight. And take care of yourself tomorrow. I love you all. Goodnight!!

[finishinglinepress]

FLP POETRY BOOK OF THE DAY: Pacific Pieces by Magdalena Louise Hirt

On SALE now! Pre-order Price Guarantee: https://www.finishinglinepress.com/product/pacific-pieces-by-magdalena-louise-hirt/

Pacific Pieces drifts readers through the beginnings of what an undertaking like crossing the #Pacific #Ocean by #sailboat entails. The sequential poems written by Magdalena Hirt about her family of six and their adventures as they cross the Pacific Ocean is the first in a three-book series. Snug and squeezed into their Westerly 49, Selkie, they emerge from their hurricane hole in Rio Dulce, Guatemala, escape a possible pirate attack off the coast of Honduras, pass through the Panama Canal, experience the Galapagos with Covid, and survive twenty-three days at sea to reach the Marquesas. Poems give detailed bites, moments of moon and stars, terrifying defeat, friendship, love of open water with family, booby bird invasion, equator crossing, fog of Covid, environmental crisis, Dracula sunrises, gothic darkness, perfect breezes, huge swells, endless destinations, and the comfort of mountainous islands.

Magdalena Louise Hirt has a Master of Arts in English Literature from the University of Toledo and a Master of Letters from the University of Highlands and Islands for Scottish Highland and Islands Literature.

PRAISE FOR Pacific Pieces by Magdalena Louise Hirt

Magdelena Hirt‘s Pacific Pieces builds on her previous chapbooks, creating a rare chronicle of a family’s life at sea. But this is not your usual logbook. “My rhythm is slight bounce / of the hull, motor-push, / current sway, dolphin play, / depth-watcher, lighthouse,” writes Hirt. With this lyric movement of push and sway, caution and play, Pacific Pieces carries us from Guatemala through the Panama Canal, around the Galapagos Islands and finally across the Pacific. There is danger here, on both land and water—from a bout with COVID to a spinnaker down. But the poet and her crew keep faith “in instruments and shipwright / hands,” and, always, in the expanse of sky and water. The abiding theme here is one of presence, and how a life at sea hones the attention to a fine point: “The point? What’s the point? Being now. / Living as the earth lives—in movement.”

–Laura Donnelly, author of Midwest Gothic

“The middle of nowhere is the center of everywhere” is a line from a French Polynesian poem, the closing poem in Maggie Hirt‘s arresting work, Pacific Pieces. After we’ve prevailed one harrowing experience after another in this third chapbook, we most certainly realize what life’s like without, shall we say, any landmarks. We are indeed in the center of everywhere aboard the sailboat that serves as full-time home for her, her husband, and their remarkable children. Describing each member of this family as embodying courage is an understatement. Again and again they encounter the forewarned yet unpredictable: upsurges of tumultuous waves, weather that can change before one can make adequate preparation, risks of tumbling overboard into seas populated by poisonous jellyfish, sharks, any deadly denizen happy to enjoy a flailing limb, of course Covid, and even pirates. Hirt not only takes her turns at the helm, but also fulfills her callings as mother, nurse, cook, and “mate” ready to take over or serve as enabler under any emergency. Somehow she works in the time to compose poems that reveal an artistry that creates the feeling of one event after another in tones, lines, timings, structures, fragments, and rhythms that evoke the experience they/we survive. Stunning is the poise of presence that comes through in each poem’s voice. Read Pacific Pieces with suspense and admiration, wondering through each poem how this family prevails over the pandemic in the Pacific, nowhere and everywhere.

–Jack Ridl, author of Practicing to Walk Like a Heron, named by ForeWords Review as co-recipient of the nation’s finest collection of poetry for 2013.

The sea is life’s rhythm throughout the sequences of poems that shape Pacific Pieces. On these waters “the wind puts the otherworld to sleep,” and “seductive night moves” weave their “pre-dawn secrets.” Those luminous secrets might be the trailing lights of a ghost ship, magical phosphorescence, dwindling stars, or the ladder of the Panama Canal “ushering the next step/ the next world.”

In these fine and ever-alert poems, Maggie Hirt continues her family’s journey, degree-by-degree, around the world. Lifting and falling with the seas, kids clamped in life jackets, a dead bird caught in the sail’s rigging, blue-footed boobies, the Southern Cross, but always “this labyrinth of water…water everywhere, so much blue.” These are substantial, uniquely informed and alert poems.

–Joel Lipman, 2022 Axon Creative Fellow, University of Toledo

Please share/please repost #flpauthor #preorder #AwesomeCoverArt #poetry #read #poetrybook #poems

[larstoomars]

i have such bittersweet feelings about my hometown. So much of my family, life, and memories are here, i love each of them deeply. my city is big, it sure isn’t small, 12th biggest city in my state. i remember jumping off my play house as a child trying to fly and walking down a broken sidewalk with my friends while hearing sirens and gunshots. i loved to camp, fish, and swim while nearly drowning again and again and eating cold Koegels. Walking around late at night but never alone and location tracking on. Always having a roof over my head but always being afraid of it being taken away from me, by weather, law, nature, or robbery. i finally graduated in 2020 with terrible ending, not even a year later my high school diploma is destroyed by water damage. i have friends everywhere but also if things get rough, i can just as easily start over again here bc the city is big enough for multiple people. it’s not slow and boring like the country and it’s not as bustling with citizens walking, biking, or riding to where they need to get in a big city. it’s the same boring places but somehow the people around me find the most interesting events and things to do. we had the biggest pride our city had seen in june and yet everyday i hear homo and transphobia.

it takes, on average, four generations to get out poverty in the united states, in 2016 the percent was still rising at 45%, now its at 35% but i don’t have hope for it to keep sliding down. two cities in my state are on the list for top 10 poorest cities in the united states.

in 2014 the michigan governor changed my cities water source, killing 12 people. our state government said they would fix the lead pipes, change them out by 2020 in 2017. the programs giving residents bottled water who were affected have stopped at the beginning of 2023. Residents still do not have clean water. technically Flint is under the amount of lead allowed in water federally and state-wise sitting at 9 parts per billion (below requirement of 15 ppb (personally i think it should be zero)) but, consider the following! Water pipes and lines have continuously burst over and over and over again, this has been happening of years, multiple times a year. forcing flint residents unable to drink water, clean, do laundry, be hygienic for days or weeks depending on where or how long the water break is.

my mom tells me things were getting bad in Flint when we moved away when i was 6/7. we moved to New Mexico and only stayed for a year before moving back home, i have mixed feeling about that place too. my best friend past away that year due to a shooting accident with immediate family. details are unimportant but right around then is when family members of my own started to pass away.

while in high school two teachers also passed. one had a heart attack and didn’t come to work so another teacher went to his home to check on him during the school day. everyone found out at the same time at he died, i wasn’t close to him. the other, she had muscular dystrophy, she was in an electric wheelchair and had a working dog, she also worked at the school. she had uterine surgery but there were complications and she didn’t make it.

after a slew of bad news this year, this september, my graduating class lost one of our alumni. his name was Johnny and he had just turned 21. i didn’t actually get to graduate with him because of covid, our ceremony was broken up into four parts in the same day, so i only graduated with a fourth of the 2020 class. i don’t look at high school fondly but, johnny was kind, funny, and smart. he worked so hard to make Flint a better place and prove all sorts of people wrong. He died defending his girlfriend, so many went to his funeral and brought our graduating class back together. to what cost though? his friends and family lost his life, he lost his life. he loved to fish, his favorite color was yellow, his lucky number was 44.

His murder was killed by another man. a couple days after another young man shot and killed at 18 years old. GM strikers were ran over in a hit and run. My dads truck was stolen right out of his driveway. A KFC was ran into by a police officer. A staff member in Flint schools had a ceramic chair thrown at their head and sent to the hospital. Ethan Crumbley, a teenager who killed four in a school shooting may be sentenced to life without parole from Oxford.

so much of my life is here, my memories, my family, biological or not. i always thought i’d move away from here. sometimes i still think i might. im not sure. i don’t know what to do to feel safe. i don’t think there is a safe place for any of us. was there ever?

[kimmysurveyblog]

48

Do you ever have days where you just don’t do anything? Not since having a child.

Have you ever experienced something paranormal? I saw my dad's ghost when I was 9 maybe, yearsss before he died. I was coming down the stairs and saw him sitting in his spot on the couch. He made a silly face. I said, "daddy?! What are you doing?" and then he came out from the bathroom behind me. I distinctly remember telling my parents, "omg but I'm not sick so it wasn't a fever dream?!"

What’s the longest amount of time you’ve been stuck in traffic? No idea.

What museums have you visited, if any? ROM in Toronto.

Have you ever dealt with noisy neighbors or roommates? How did that go? It's always before 11pm so I don't mention it.

Have you ever taken a woodshop class? We got to in elementary school.

What area of math are you best at? Worst? I suck at all math.

How do you feel when you meet someone with the same music taste as you? I don't like music that much so. -shrug-

Do you believe in luck? Why or why not? No. I don't think there are any influences like that. I also don't believe in fate or karma.

Do you ever feel self-conscious when you eat around other people? I had an ED for over half of my life so yes. I'm doing much better now but there are lingering effects.

Have you ever considered going to art school? No.

Is there anyone in your life who consistently angers you? Our neighbours. I'm going to be such a happier person whenever we do end up moving.

Have you ever had problems falling asleep in class? No.

Are your parents supportive of you? They both were. I had great parents.

How often do you take the train to go places? Rarely. That's the mode of transportation we use to go to Toronto but we haven't been since pre-COVID. In a year or two I'd love to go with our daughter. :) She'd have so much fun!

Have you ever participated in a mock trial, or a real trial? No.

Do you have the right time set on your microwave? No microwave.

Do you have any old newspaper articles? Why? No.

Do you have a flat screen tv or just a regular box? Flatscreen.

Do you have a radar detector for your car? No.

Have you ever been arrested? For what? No.

Do you know how to change the oil in your car? No.

Do you like Tootsie Rolls? No.

Are you seeing anybody currently? Boyfriend of 7 years.

Do you like it when it snows? No. I LOVE IT.

Where do you do most of your shopping? No one place in particular.

Do you have a big yard? No.

Do you live in the country or the city? City.

At what age did you obtain your driver license? I'm 32 and still don't have it.

What are you favorite kind of chips? Lays dill pickle or ketchup.

Where did you go today? A pretty place by a lake with our daughter this AM for a walk.

Are you sleepy right now? No.

What color is your mousepad? Not using one.

Do you get your eyebrows waxed? No.

Has anyone given you flowers recently? Kinda. I like getting flowers for a little vase in our kitchen and my boyfriend pays for them.

Has anyone you know been arrested recently? No.

Do you have more than 1 email address? Yes.

Do you have central heating and air? Yes.

Are there any plants in your house? I think we're up to 8 now.

Do you prefer cold or warm weather? Cold! I've always been a Fall and Winter girly.

Do you prefer bar or liquid soap? Liquid.

Do you wear any perfumes/colognes on a regular basis? No.

Do you have high or low self-esteem levels? Higher since I've started working out thankfully.

When was the last time you listened to a song on repeat? What was the song? My daughter makes me do this regularly. Today it was the hotdog song from Mickey Mouse Clubhouse.

Do you like mint or orange-flavored chocolate? Both.

When was the last time you burnt your mouth from eating something too hot? No clue.

What is your favorite foreign language to listen to? (In music or speech) Korean.

Do you prefer instrumental songs or ones with lyrics? Lyrics.

Name something simple that makes you happy. Hearing my daughter laugh.

What is your favorite instrument to listen to? Guitar.

Pick one: Books, movies or music? Books.

What was the last book you read about? It was one of the Bridgerton novels. Historical romance.

When was the last time you used a quote from a movie in real life? I don't do that.

Can you put your legs behind your head? Nope.

Do you forget things easily? No. I have a pretty good memory.

The last song you listened to: Did it have a male or female vocalist? No idea. We had the radio on in the car.

Have you ever had braces? Do you need them? No and no.

What does your voice sound like? (Loud, quiet, high-pitched, etc) It's not low or high but I find it to be quite annoying.

What was the last topic you read about on Wikipedia? I don't remember.

Have you ever donated money to Wikipedia? No.

What board games did you play when you were growing up? Monopoly, Game of Life, Balderdash.

Do you know any sign language? A few words from Ms Rachel.

When was the last time you bought new clothes? What did you get? I got a t-shirt over the weekend.

Do you ever watch streamers on Twitch? Not anymore. It was a huge part of my life during COVID but a lot of my streamer friends quit shortly after lockdown ended.

Has your house ever been broken into? How did you find out? No.

What do you usually eat for breakfast? Cold brew.

Are you overwhelmed right now? Not any more than usual.

Did you share a bedroom with someone when you were growing up? No.

How many group chats are you in? Do you participate in them much? A few for family.

Are you still in touch with any of your exes? No.

What do you do for work? I'm a SAHM.

Were you upset when you found out certain things weren’t real? (Santa, Tooth Fairy…) Probably.

Name something you’re proud of. Brag a little bit. Recently, of my commitment to exercising! I started working out June 1st and it was initially just so I felt better about myself leading up to my online friend's visit but that 2 weeks of consistency was enough to get me hooked! Literally for the first time in my life, I'm losing weight in a healthy way. Down 12lbs so far, only 18lbs from my goal weight. :) I feel amazing!

Which store would you like to win $1000 for? Best Buy.

Do you pay any attention to celebrity drama? A little bit.

What popular food do you dislike? Steak. Just not a fan.

Do you have any cats? No.

How many slices of pizza can you eat in 1 sitting? Three.

[freedformwriter]

English quartet

Wrote this last weekend but was then too non-covid but basically covid to post. It's supposed to be a return to daily micro-blogs but, meh, long format seems to be my energy at the moment.

4th July, 2024

There are things you notice for the first time when you don’t know how to vote: the suppressed hopefulness of the red-rosette pollster, the beatific care with which the volunteers scan down the registry, but mostly it’s the special pencils. I’ve got a lovely hexagonal half stub in my hand. It’s fatter than the average pencil and in a tasteful monochrome. Most alluringly, it’s labelled the property of the UK Government. The urge to untie it from the rickety booth and slide it into my pocket is almost overwhelming. I wonder if there is a black market for these things. I was entirely prepared to vote Green when I sauntered into the Mormon church that doubles as a local polling station. Now I’ve been staring at the same three names for five minutes. And they all belong to one man. Can I really vote for a man with three Christian names? Who keeps such a surplus? It’s suspect. And I’ve absolutely nothing else to base my impression of the candidate upon because I haven’t looked up a single person running in this election beside the incumbent. We were so excited when she won a historic race here in 2017. Now her name is branded with bitter X-fuelled feuds between Terfs and anti-Terfs and she can’t show up for Hustings because of security concerns. Why did I not look up a single freaking other candidate? My government-issued pencil drifts that towards the Labour box. Stop. I close my eyes and do some of those grounding exercises. What truly matters to me in this moment? My friends. My friends’ kids. This second thought sets me off. The sheer helpless terror of being the parent of a trans kid right now is something I cannot even encompass. It’s possible I’m going to cry in the government-approved booth. Fuck this. Mr Three-Christian-Names it is. I’m back out the door, shades on to hide my expression. Thank god it’s a sunny day.

I later learn the Green candidate is a jolly sort who runs the local bike repair charity. And wouldn’t, my friend reasons, the world be a better place if it was made up of people like that?

5th July 

The world has changed and the weather drips from the brim of my walking hat. In my all-black rain ensemble, I feel like a modern-day mourner. I just don’t know whose funeral I’m attending, or even if one is scheduled. The social rupture of the General Election has reopened old fissures. The grief leaked into my friends’ last-night communications, the ones who poured themselves into the Labour movement in the Corbyn years. Their momentum is now officially a stumble, in the same way we minimise the significance an old relationship once we find The One. Crossing the Stour where the picturesque plankton-filled river takes on punts, I hear a man singing. High above the water, a scaffolder in a harness and bright blue quick dry t-shirt belts out a sentimental ballad about finding love at last. Come on! he calls to an unseen man below. It’s unclear whether it’s a call to join in or to hurry up. My mood lifts. Not everyone is miserable today.

When I arrive at my appointment, the craniosacral therapist opens the door looking like the embodiment of fresh English summer: a floral sundress, pink cheeks, and flowing waves of loosely bound hair. You’re dressed for the weather, she declared. I want to be dressed for her weather. I lie on the table in the beautiful old treatment room in the heart of Canterbury, trying to tune out the fluctuating high-pitched hum of the air purified as she moves her hands around the energy centres of my body. How are her hands so warm? She truly exists in another climate. I try not to think of anything negative, or wildly inappropriate, under her touch in case it filters through. It’s time for her assessment. When you first came in and we were talking, you didn’t seem tired at all but – here she tilts her head to a sympathetic angle – but your body is really tired.

Tonight, the football is back. I’m really delighted at how willing my hosting friend is to join me. I’m backing Portugal despite the nausea-inducing presence of Ronaldo at the helm. She is supporting France because she enjoys going on holiday there. I’ve previously signed off on similar claims about the superior charms of Spain and Turkey – better food and more attractive men – but I draw the line at France. Why? They’re the villain, I say. What, as in some kind of ancestral enemy of England? Yes..maybe… I don’t know. My relationship with the technical country of my birth is complicated. The England-France rivalry is not. France plays their role so well: producing grand triumphs followed by epic collapses. They are an incredibly satisfying antagonist and for that reason alone, yes, I will always root against them. Mbappé even obligingly wears a black mask. Whether they are a mustachio-twirling villain, a protesting troubadour, or a stranger in this town, we always need the man in black.

6th July

No problem, I will just read some Cervantes. This is not the response I am looking for when I announce the England game is about to start. Especially as the man speaking is sitting in the very middle of my friend’s sofa. Technically, I am just as much of a visitor as he is, but this is the television facing sofa and why can’t he read classic literature on the other one with the non-optimal angle? But I can already tell tonight’s entertainment will be a hybrid experience. He and my friend are prepping for the open mic she hosts tonight. She has tap shoes and a slide whistle out for a Klaxons style mating dance. He’s got the book open to the passage in which Don Quixote attacks some marionettes. The night’s theme is puppets. Pick a side, I tell him, and slot in prepared to do battle.

Men, particularly older men, always find something comical in my watching football. Tonight is no exception. Oh listen to you, you could be the next Gary Lineker, he says after twenty minutes. I’m not sure if it’s the Americanness or femaleness – probably both – but I get these comments lot. Where is my can of lager? Can they hear my football bellow? I infinitely prefer watching with women who discuss the match, rather than my watching of it. But as the minutes tick on, and England isn’t playing absolutely shit, something a bit special happens. This man has always struck me as an art and music lover for whom London is the centre of the world. Now, through the medium of share viewership, we’re transported back to his boyhood in Middlesbrough. He’s not nostalgic for it – horrible place, god the accents – but is channelling the energy of the rough, mid-century stadium he attended every weekend all the same. I remember a chant we did for the opposing fans, he announces, then changes his voice: you’re going home in a Teesside ambulance – oi!

I traipse into the open mic event late – worth it for that penalty shootout – and watch the mating dance. Then a woman in Birkenstocks works a skeleton puppet through a synth performance (absolute fucking genius). During the inevitable ambient musical interlude, I make the Franz Kafka marionette journey through his own dreams. At the end, we are all instructed how to make a swizzle, the technical term for the bit of card and spit that transforms your voice into Punch. Terrifyingly loud, it would attract attention in even the most raucous stadium.

Do you want to go to a mummers’ play? My friend issues this invitation while I’m still groggily stretching myself out on a Sunday morning. It’s this kind of impromptu invitation that more than makes up for the mental overwhelm I often experience staying here. Camped in her overfilled central living space, my control-obsessed brain has to ignore the old rescue furniture, the new music equipment, and theatrical props accumulating by the door. But the Jack-of-the-Green costume – a sort of burlap cage denuded of its festive vines – is not just an unwieldy obstacle, but a connection to a whole performance community. The sort who revel in arcane folk traditions. I take my porridge with berry compote in the car and we’re off to Sandwich. I forgot what an absurdly charming town it is. We used to ride our bikes here on long summer weekends, stopping at, yes, a sandwich shop attached to a posh deli.

The pageantry is in full force when we arrive at St Peter’s Church. A blonde woman about my age in a white rugby shirt emblazoned with ‘George’ is going several rounds with a fire-breathing dragon. Parking ourselves on the curb, we cheer as George dispatches the dragon with the aid of protective potholders. Next, we have the French knight. Sir Fleur de Lis, with his waxy moustache, withdraws a white handkerchief. George counters. The fight very much resembles the troops of Morris dancers taking over the town for this folk and ale festival. This, I say to my friend, is why we root against France in the football. It’s just another form of pantomime.

The dispatched French knight now lies on the ground, a lance projecting from his body at a 45° angle. An incredibly tall man in a long white doctor’s coat, a top hat, and myopic spectacles seeks help from the audience to remove the weapon. Is there no one in the audience who can help remove the lance? He approaches a little boy who stares up with wide terrified eyes, then a little girl who ducks into her father’s side. Sensing that there are no sufficiently patriotic children to take up England’s Excalibur, the doctor approaches my friend, child height from her position on the pavement. Do you think you can pull it out? She hops up and runs to the fallen French knight with what I can only describe as a scamper.

After she hoists the lance – huzzah! – and the knight is at last resuscitated – ‘When all else fails, drink some Kentish ale’ – we move about taking in the food stalls and more flag-waiving dancers in tabards. Do you remember we saw that one old man perform the ‘The Ladies’ Fancy?’ my friend asks me. It was in Cambridgeshire; and I do. Ribbons were involved. English villages are so weird. Am I really thinking of moving back here?

[tmrinfra]

Why buy a plot in a gated community at Chegunta?

Investments these days have become quite targeted. People are hardly willing to invest in anything that poses a high-risk factor. Since the pandemic, the expenditure patterns of most have changed completely. A vast majority of people have cut down on their miscellaneous expenditures and have focused on saving. This is all due to the uncertainty that COVID-19 brought along with itself. The ever-evolving city of Hyderabad has transformed into a hub of futuristic developments. Owing to the enormous progress in all sectors of the economy including IT and Pharma, Hyderabad indeed is looking towards a bright future. These developments have created a tremendously strong job market which is the sole reason for several migrations from all over the globe. This inflow was directly proportional to the demand for good real estate options and the demand grew. The surge of developments throughout the city led to further development of neighbouring locales and towns, creating a potential gold mine for real estate investors.

Gated Community Plots: The Future of Investments

Gated communities are one of the safest and fastest-growing lifestyle options all over the world due to the level of convenience they offer. Investing in gated community plots is profitable for many reasons.

They have quality amenities that offer higher returns in the future while providing an exceptionally convenient life

Due to the rising demand for private living, people prefer gated communities as their option for investments

Maintenance is much lower due to shared expenses and saves a lot of money

Gated communities are systematically developed and hence, are likely to appreciate much quicker than under-developed projects

Owing to the amplified level of convenience gated communities offer with essentials all around, it boosts the appreciation on your investment

Gated communities have a better quality of development which appreciates the value of the land

Rentals in gated communities will be higher than normal because of the abundant availability of everything you would ever need

Buying a Gated Community Plot at Chegunta

Chegunta is an up-and-coming town in the well-connected district of Medak. It is connected to the rest of Telangana through NH-44 and AH-43, and its located quite close to major cities Hyderabad, Nizamabad, Kamareddy, etc. with only a 30-minute drive to the Outer Ring Road. Chegunta is home to beautiful weather throughout the year and is a pollution-free environment which has created an agrarian industry here. Greenery is abundant and Chegunta accommodates several good schools and colleges in its proximity.

The Government of Telangana has discovered the huge untapped potential for establishing industries related to food processing. There is abundant availability of several kinds of agricultural produce, which acts as raw material for the food processing industries. These units, in turn, would create employment opportunities in the district, and as the industries grow, the value of land is bound to appreciate to unimaginable heights. This massive scope for development is the prime reason why Chegunta has incredible potential for profitable investments.

At TMR Group, our focus lies in creating safe and profitable investment opportunities for everyone, even during this uncertain time. We assure utmost transparency in the procedure and prioritize the quality of development. Chegunta is a thoughtfully picked location owing to its tremendous potential for development in the near future, making it a gold mine for investors! The weather here is beautiful throughout the year, and the atmosphere is pollution-free. It is a lovely place to live in and make the most of its growth with hassle-free returns on your investment. Visit www.tmrinfra.com to know more about us. You can easily book a site visit through our website and check out the project that interests you. 

For information on plots for sale in Hyderabad

[internationalrealestatenews]

[ad_1] Miami Actual Property Market Forecast: Knowledgeable Insights and Projections The Miami actual property market has lengthy been a hotbed for funding and hypothesis. With its lovely seashores, vibrant nightlife, and rising job alternatives, it’s no marvel that individuals from all around the world are flocking to the Magic Metropolis to purchase property. Nevertheless, like several actual property market, Miami shouldn't be with out its ups and downs. On this article, we'll check out the knowledgeable insights and projections for the Miami actual property marketplace for the approaching years. In line with business specialists, Miami’s actual property market is predicted to stay sturdy and present indicators of regular development within the foreseeable future. The town’s enchantment to each home and worldwide patrons, coupled with its sturdy economic system and low rates of interest, make it a sexy funding alternative. Moreover, Miami’s repute as a world hub for finance, commerce, and tourism contributes to its ongoing enchantment as an actual property vacation spot. One of many key elements driving the Miami actual property market is the fixed inflow of worldwide patrons. Miami has lengthy been a favourite vacation spot for international buyers, significantly these from Latin America and Europe. These buyers are attracted by town’s secure political and financial local weather, in addition to the favorable trade charges. In line with the Nationwide Affiliation of Realtors, international patrons accounted for almost 30% of all residential gross sales in Miami in recent times. One other issue contributing to the expansion of the Miami actual property market is town’s sturdy job market. Miami has seen a big enhance in job alternatives in recent times, with main employers in sectors similar to finance, healthcare, and know-how establishing operations within the metropolis. This inflow of jobs has not solely fueled inhabitants development however has additionally elevated demand for housing, resulting in rising property values. Regardless of the optimistic outlook, specialists warn that there are a number of elements that might probably have an effect on the Miami actual property market. Certainly one of these is local weather change and the elevated threat of hurricanes and rising sea ranges. Miami is especially weak to those phenomena, and in consequence, insurance coverage prices for properties in flood-prone areas have elevated considerably. This might probably impression property values and purchaser curiosity in sure areas of town. One other potential problem for the Miami actual property market is the present COVID-19 pandemic. The pandemic has had a serious impression on tourism and worldwide journey, each of that are essential for the Miami actual property market. Nevertheless, specialists consider that Miami’s sturdy fundamentals and enchantment will assist the market rebound as soon as the pandemic eases and journey restrictions are lifted. General, the Miami actual property market is projected to proceed its development trajectory within the coming years. The town’s worldwide enchantment, sturdy job market, and fascinating life-style make it a sexy vacation spot for patrons and buyers alike. Whereas there are potential challenges on the horizon, similar to local weather change and the impacts of the pandemic, business specialists stay optimistic in regards to the long-term prospects of the Miami actual property market. Whether or not you want to put money into a trip property or a main residence, Miami is definitely a market price contemplating. [ad_2]

[theexperienceofaging]

A WAY OF ENDING

Familiarity can be comforting and also imprisoning. During the three years of Covid isolation I had become used to mostly staying in my familiar home, my familiar living room, my familiar porch. Coming to a Continuing Care Community at age 88 upended all that. Now I was in a new space, much less space, new people—all old and lots of them—new routines. At first I felt quite lost. Where now was my “home?” I grieved my old life as thin as it had become in those three years and my beloved home with its view of an Audubon preserve. Would there ever be a home again? When I saw friends from the “outside”, I was so grateful for their familiarity. We knew each other. I knew what we loved to talk about, I knew what we found funny, I knew what activities we enjoyed together and most importantly, I knew they cared about me and I cared about them.

Here I walked down long halls, took elevators. Many people smiled and said hello and introduced themselves but I didn’t know any of them. The Staff were wonderful. Your light is broken? Someone comes and fixes it. You’ve lost weight and your pants need to be taken in? There’s a seamstress who comes every two weeks. And I didn’t have to cook, except for breakfast. I haven’t had that level of caretaking since my mother changed my diapers and put a bottle in my mouth when I cried. I appreciated all this but a deeper level of acceptance and knowing were still absent. It wasn’t “home.” This was the beginning of a kind of transition I had never experienced before. A few months passed. I was observing and learning about this new land and culture I had landed in. In looking back, I realized that after the years of Covid let up, I had little energy to create a new life and the comforting familiarity had become turgid and stagnant. But here, I simply have to walk down the hall and take an elevator to have a new life. There is a choice of activities. The poetry and writing class stir me to to think newer thoughts. The art class starts me on a new skill. Talking to so many new people is stimulating and exhausting. The game of “getting to know you” is often repetitive and superficial. Where did you come from? What did you do? Some political talk since the majority of residents are liberal and we sing in the same choir. Bad days consist of talk about the quality of the food, the usual weather comments, how the place used to be and other subjects of little interest. Good days -a lot of friendliness and feeling a part of a yet unknown community and beginning to feel sparks of connection. It begins to feel like a small town or village where spoken or unspoken there is the deeper knowledge that this is the final chapter. Physical disabilities are talked about in an open and accepting way; everyone has something wrong with them. “What did you say?” is the mantra. We are all in the anteroom of death and friendships literally die. There is some acknowledgment of this; it’s not deeply engaged but it is a constant silent knowing.

I begin to have a sense of who I connect more easily with, offering the possibility of a deeper friendship. And who I enjoy in limited but pleasurable ways and who I avoid. I realize how deeply I have wanted community. This might not be the utopia I would have wanted but I feel grateful that I have the means to be taken care of in a place that strives to make these last years safer, easier, stimulating. Isolation is the new plague and I have been granted the embrace of a community with all its gifts and flaws to continue my life, pursue meaning and pleasure and be surprised by what can arise from one day to the next. I am feeling that I have a place here; I am part of the community and that steadies me. Life now offers possibility. I had forgotten there was possibilty. It could be the end any day or any month or year but as long as it isn’t there’s more life to be lived.

[workscounselingcenter]

Holiday Blues

We are in the full swing of what people call “the most wonderful time of the year”. However, for a lot of people, it can be the hardest part of the year. What makes this time of the year so wonderful to some and so difficult for others? There can be many possible reasons, but I will explore a couple and share suggestions on how to combat them.

One reason that this time of year could be difficult for people is the change in weather. Due to the decrease in temperatures, it also means a decrease in the time people spend outside. Less time outside generally means less sunlight, less exercise, and more opportunities to get sick. Winter is the flu and covid season and that can be a major drain on a person’s mood. Aside from the larger amounts of people getting sick, the colder temperatures are often preventing people from getting outside. It’s hard to convince yourself to go outside if it’s very cold. Additionally, with decreasing amounts of sunlight and daytime, even if somebody is wanting to get out they’re just not as much time in the day to do it. Oftentimes when people are getting off work now, it’s already dark out. So what can we do to combat the difficulties that come with the coldness and darkness of winter?

One potential strategy is getting lights that simulate sunlight. Our bodies get a lot of things they need from the sun. Being indoors and without as much sunlight can cause issues. If you have never heard of seasonal affective disorder (SAD), this is basically what it is: changing in seasons can cause big changes in mood and depression and it tends to have the greatest effect in winter. In addition to getting the extra light, another thing we can do is bundle up and go outside for even short periods of time. Even if it’s just to walk around the yard or take the dog for a short walk it can be helpful. Or maybe finding cool things you can do at night such as going to see holiday lights. Another thing that we can try is finding ways to exercise inside. This can look as simple as taking the stairs instead of the elevator one way.

Another common thing that can make the holiday season difficult for people is grief. Grief is a complicated emotion and shows up differently for each person at varying times. Going through the holiday seasons without a loved one can be very hard, even if it’s not your first holiday without the person. Grieving is not a linear path but has ups and downs and ebbs and flows. Furthermore, people can often feel confused, sad, and isolated knowing that it is the “happiest” time of the year and they feel very far from that. However, you are not alone or abnormal if you feel this way!

These are just a few reasons holidays can be hard for people, but there are many more reasons why people may be feeling holiday blues instead of holiday joy. Because of this, it is extra important to check in with the people we care about around the holiday times. Sometimes people need extra support, which is completely valid. If the holidays feel difficult for you or someone you know you can always reach out to us at Works Counseling Center for help and know that you’re not alone.

[bike42]

Wednesday September 13, 2023

A 100% rain day - we knew it had to happen and we were ready for it. We had another leisurely morning, which was good for some as they stayed in the bar quite late I heard. Also, the other three “spouses” are positive and sick with COVID, so that makes everyone other than MaryNelle and Sue, who have been diligent about mask wearing, and M&M, and Peter and Fionan.

We left the hotel at 11am for a noon boat ride to see the Cliffs of Moher from the sea. It was drizzly / rainy, but since we’ve got 10 days of hiking in the UK coming up, we were well prepared with our GoreTex jackets and rain pants, umbrellas and my secret weapon: XtraTuf boots!

Along the drive, Peter played more M&M musical selections and also talked more about “session” music that occurs in pubs across Ireland. People show up with a musical instrument and hope to get noticed and invited to play for a song or two. We saw examples of that with the music groups we’ve seen this far. It’s really cool to see how tempo/key changes are signaled by the leader and I notice M&M doing that sometimes.

I’d never thought about it, but Peter said that SONGS have words - TUNES are just music. He told us about Jigs - three count and the Reel - which is 4/4 rhythm. It was raining harder when we arrived at the boat dock and we had 20 minutes to spare on the bus. Peter taught us a “lilt,” where we sang an Irish tale (a digression) and the different sides of the bus sand the “dideley-do” refrains. Fits right in with my making the best of a rainy day philosophy!

The boat ride to view the Cliffs of Moher from the water was amazing. It didn’t rain hard, and about six of us enjoyed the view from the top deck with another six hearty older Germans. Despite the weather, the sea was very calm.

Back in the van, we had a short drive to a stop at Saint Brigid’s Well. According to Peter, Brigid was the Pagan goddess of fertility; unique to Ireland and not an actual Saint. At the time of the revolution she was changed from fertility to chastity. Clearly, it is a much visited site where people leave tributes to their loved ones.

We drove back to Lahinch for a couple of hours to explore. We joined Sue and Wayne for Fish & Chips at Spooney’s, then we window shopped while they went off to find whiskey. We walked down to the beach, and the waves were huge - tide was in too I guess as the water came right up to the rocks, none of the massive sandy beach we were on last night was showing!

Back to the hotel for R&R and the last night group dinner. Before dinner, Peter invited us to the conference room to view samples of his “Crankie Island” project with Cathy Jordon. It’s hard to explain, but Peter obtained this 1930’s cinema box where an illustrated scroll is cracked through the device, which uses mirrors to project the show. They started this project during COVID lockdown, with Peter doing the illustrations and Cathy is providing the music. Their plan is to have a traditional song illustrated from each county in Ireland. They have a website in progress - www.crankieisland.com and their completed projects are best viewed on YouTube.

We had our last group dinner in a private room off the breakfast room. Jeff, Bill and I sat with Kort and Fionan - a relief of have a real conversation with people we could connect with. Kort told us more about meeting James and their decision to work as a duo and the ups and downs that go with that. We also got to talk about their business model and how it works for them to lead the lifestyle they want - even though there are sacrifices too (mainly time away from their families).

Our table, Wayne and Sue, and Judee went into town for a couple of whiskies at Eugene’s. We stayed about 90 minutes and had such a fun time! He added our business cards to the collection he had stapled to his ceiling. Fun night and end to the trip.

Thursday morning Fionan drove about the last 10 of us to the Shannon airport. The others had early morning flights and had already left by taxi. We arrived at 10am, 4 hours before we could even check into our flight for Heathrow and on to Edinburgh Scotland. Found a comfortable place to pass the time playing cribbage and catching up on email.

[nickgerlich]

Lights Out

Where I grew up in Chicagoland, there were no Walmarts in the 1960s. That was still primarily a regional southern chain, and in the Windy City, we had Kmart. It was the offspring of the S.S. Kresge Company, which had long maintained a chain of so-called dime stores.

The first Kmart had opened in Garden City Michigan in 1962, and was an instant success. The chain peaked at 2486 stores in 1994, but has been dying a slow but steady death ever since. And as my friend Rolando Pujol, The Retrologist, proclaimed in his Substack account this weekend, once the store in Westwood New Jersey closes later this month, only two will remain. The store is busy selling anything and everything, from merchandise to fixtures, in anticipation of the closing.

I have many memories of going to the nearby Kmart with my family. They were the stuff of which middle-class America was made. While my family was in good enough financial position to shop at Sears for most of our clothing, tools, appliances, and so forth, we went to Kmart for everything else.

Kmart’s signature marketing tool was its Blue Light Special, in which some hapless employee would push a little cart around that had a vertical pole, atop which was mounted the revolving blue light.

At the designated spot, he would stop and turn it on. An announcer would make a proclamation over the public address system, and then chaos would ensue as shoppers tried to grab whatever they could.

I still have memories of this, as it made each Kmart visit unique and, for all intents and purposes, competitive sport. Shoppers knew to keep a watchful eye for the cart appearing, wondering where it would stop, or listening for the crackle of the PA.

I'll never forget the vision of my mother clawing with other women over stockings that were on deep discount. I still bear the emotional scarring. My Dad, brother, and I looked on with upper lips curled, wondering what the hell is going on here. Pavlov missed his calling; he should have studied retail, not dogs.

Skip forward to 2005, and a very strange thing happened. Kmart, which by then was starting to swirl down the drain, merged into Sears, another chain whose better days were fading fast into the rear view. I suppose that misery loves company, and rather than each looking for a buyer to save their very lives, they joined forces.

Here we are today, with a pair of Kmarts and 12 Sears still open. It was like the Titanic tethered itself to the Lusitania, the latter torpedoed by change, the former sinking from smug ignorance of the dangers at sea.

Of course, we academics love a sad story as much as a happy one, because there are stories to be told, case studies to be written. And people will be writing about Kmart and Sears for years to come, both of which were firmly mired in their pasts, oblivious to the present, much less the future.

It is comically unimaginable to picture Kmart having the moxie to weather the COVID storm, with curbside, online ordering, and a powerful app. Not in your life. They’re still stuck with the clunky brick phones of the 90s, with flip phones just wishful thinking. Sears, of course, wound up being where old people shopped; they even sold off their best assets, namely private label brands like Craftsmen, Die Hard, and Kenmore, in order to raise cash. But you keep telling yourself that things will get back to the old normal.

Once the Boomers and Gen-Xers are gone, memories of these two chains will start to slip from public consciousness. There will be other companies as well, and my friend will no doubt be documenting them. This is his passion, chasing down the fading nostalgia of the day. It just makes me feel a little nostalgic, though, wanting to see one of those Blue Light Specials one more time. It would be entertaining.

That’s something no Walmart store can claim.

Dr “Just Don’t Trample Me” Gerlich

Audio Blog