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thefactsofthematter · 6 years ago

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Hello! Could you do "I love you" prompts 6 ("On a sunny Tuesday afternoon, the late sunlight glowing in your hair") and 12 ("When we lay together on the fresh spring grass") for Jack/ Davey or Race/ Albert? Thanks so much and happy Valentine's Day!

omg i’m sorry this took so long!! (as we can see from “happy valentines day” jhhbgh) i took a break from writing but i’m back babey!!!

javid; 2k; uhh ambiguous time setting? sorta modern era but maybe it’s like,, the 60s or something; no content warnings! just fluff!

i highly recommend listening to “fishin’ in the dark” while reading this— it sets the tone perfectly.

It’s Davey’s first summer in the country, and he’s still not sure how he feels about it.

They’d moved here in the middle of the school year, leaving behind everything he’d once known in the heart of New York City, in exchange for a new life in a tiny little town. His father had lost his job back home, and instead of seeing it as a setback, his folks had taken it as an opportunity to start over somewhere else, across the country.

It’s not all bad, Davey figures.

He’s made a lot of friends— the kids at school were incredibly inviting, though you sort of have to be when there’s only five or six people in each grade. If anything, they were entertained by Davey’s fascinating stories of the big city, and his lack of knowledge of anything farming-related. He can’t complain; at least he has friends here, he certainly didn’t have many in New York.

Manhattan also didn’t have all this fresh air and gorgeous weather. It didn’t have the wonderful house they live in now— he’d grown up in a tiny apartment with all five of them crammed into just a couple of rooms. There’s definitely much more free space around here. He’s even got his own bedroom, free from sharing with Les.

And, well, New York didn’t have Jack.

Sweet, lovely Jack, who lives just down the street. Jack, who runs around barefoot, wears a tattered old cowboy hat, sings country songs, and drives a rust-bucket truck. Jack, who’s got the smoothest southern drawl in the world, and a year-round farmer’s tan. Jack, who Davey is head over heels for.

Speak of the devil…

“Hey Davey-boy! What'cha up to?”

There’s Jack, leaning over the back fence of the Jacobs’s yard, the brim of his hat not able to shade the brightness of his smile. Davey has been pulling weeds from the garden all morning, but it’s starting to get a little too hot and sunny to keep going without collapsing from heatstroke.

“Not much of anything,” he replies, dropping his pail of dandelions into the dirt. “I’m about finished with this. What are you doing here? I thought you were working on Al’s family’s farm for the next little while.”

Jack shrugs, still grinning happily, like he hasn’t got a care in the world.

“It’s my day off. Medda wanted me home for a bit to fix some stuff up for her, but I finished it real quick, so I’ve got some free time.” He seems almost nervous as he scuffs at the dirt with his foot and adjusts his hat so Davey can see more of his face. “Say, if you’re all done here, how’d you like to hang around with me for a while? I’ve got somewhere real neat that I wanna take you, I think you’ll really like it.”

Davey raises an eyebrow, intrigued.

“I don’t see why not,” he says, dusting the dirt off of his knees and picking his pail back up to toss the dandelions in the garbage bin. “I’ll let my mom know I’m going out and see if there’s anything she needs me to do first. I’ll meet you at your place in a bit?”

Jack’s smile widens, if that’s even possible.

“Sounds good! See ya in a bit, city slicker!”

And with that, he’s gone, darting back down the alley towards Medda’s place.

Davey shakes his head fondly, unable to wipe the smile from his face.

Twenty minutes later, they’re rolling along a gravel road in Jack’s truck. There’s mason jars of Medda’s signature sweet tea in their cup holders, and they’ve got the windows rolled down to let the breeze cool them off.

“So I’ve never been to a big city,” says Jack, breaking the easy silence they’d settled into. “Do y'all got grass there? And trees? Or is it all buildings?”

Davey can’t help but laugh. He sometimes imagines what his life would’ve been like if he’d lived here from the beginning, like Jack and all their other friends that have no idea of the hustle and bustle of New York.

“In parks, there’s trees and grass, yeah,” he replies, recalling the afternoons that he and Sarah used to drag Les over to Central Park in their rusty old wagon. “But not all over the place, the way it is here. New York is a lot of grey— the sidewalks, the buildings, even the air. It was just… dark and sad, a lot of the time. The longer I’m away from it, the less I miss it. I think I’m happier here.”

Jack’s grin is confirmation enough that Davey is, in fact, much happier here.

“I’m glad you’re happy,” Jack replies, while tapping his hands absentmindedly on the steering wheel. “I ain’t ever had a friend like you before. I’m really happy you’re here.”

Twenty or so more minutes of driving finds them turning off the road to start down the long driveway of what looks like someone’s farm.

“Are we even allowed to be here?” asks Davey, as they roll right past an abandoned-looking house and quonset. “Who’s farm is this? Are we gonna get in trouble?”

Jack just chuckles and sips on the last of his sweet tea. There’s thankfully a few more jars of it in the backseat, courtesy of Medda, so they’ve got plenty to last the afternoon.

“Don’t worry about it,” he says, shaking his head. “We’re fine. This is, like, technically, sort of… my land? I used to live out here with my dad, but after he died, no one comes out here anymore. I like to come sometimes just to hang out. It’ll be mine once I’m old enough to farm it— since I can’t really do it by myself at seventeen, right? That’s why I live with Medda for now, and I work out at Al’s farm ‘cause his dad is teaching me everything I need to do. Awful nice of him, ain’t it?”

Even with such a sad topic, Jack is still smiling, like the happiness of getting to carry on his dad’s farm outweighs the sadness of losing him.

“Sure is, yeah,” says Davey, trying to reciprocate Jack’s little laugh. “I’m sorry about your dad, though. That had to be really hard.”

Jack shrugs one shoulder and seems about to reply, but he’s pulled out of the conversation as he suddenly whips the truck off the gravel road and onto a well worn trail through the brush.

“Oh, here we go!” he yells, before stepping on the gas pedal with full force. Well, that’s one way to change the topic. “Hang on, Davey-boy! It’s about to get real bumpy!”

Davey shrieks as they begin to pick up speed, practically flying down the dirt trail. He’s absolutely terrified for his life, but the way Jack is howling with excited laughter sort of makes this worth it.

“Jack Kelly!” screams Davey, not quite able to stop himself from laughing too. “You’re insane! We’re gonna die!”

Jack can’t seem to stop laughing but he pats Davey’s shoulder reassuringly.

“Just hold on!” he yells, as the truck flies over a bump and bounces as it lands. “I won’t let anything happen! You’re safe with me!”

Davey isn’t sure at what point he began to trust Jack so much, but for some reason, he believes it. He just grips the handle above the door for dear life and decides he might as well live in the moment for a bit.

He’s gonna be just fine.

When they finally pull up to where Jack had been trying to take them and climb out of the truck, Davey realizes that the terrifying joy-ride had totally been worth it.

It’s a clearing in the trees, a big grassy patch, with a creek running right through the middle. If he looks far enough down the rolling water, there’s a beaver dam within sight— something he’s never seen in real life before. Sunlight is streaming down in golden rays, lighting both the scenery and Jack’s tan face in the most gorgeous way.

“You like it?” asks Jack, tipping back his hat to reveal more of his face. “I ain’t ever brought anyone here. It was me and my mom’s favourite place to come hang out. We used to have picnics here all the time.”

There’s a kind of wistful look on his face, and Davey kind of really wants to kiss him. Is that weird? He’s not really sure, but it’s probably best not to overthink it.

“I love it, Jack,” says Davey, rather sure his voice is giving away just how smitten he is. “This is beautiful… and I’m happy you trust me enough to show it to me. Thank you, Jackie.”

Jack seems caught off-guard by the sincerity, but his face eventually widens into a huge grin.

“Let’s have lunch,” is all he says, seemingly not sure how to respond to Davey’s words. It might just be the heat, but Davey swears there’s a blush across Jack’s cheeks. “Pick us a spot on the grass, I’ll get the food out. We’ll have to thank Medda for it later.”

With that, the two boys turn in opposite directions and try to recover from that strangely soft interaction. Davey wanders down to the water and slips his shoes off so he can dip his foot in— it’s surprisingly cool and refreshing. He opts to sit down right there, his feet dangling in the creek as minnows nip at his toes.

“Good choice,” says Jack, moments later, as he approaches behind Davey and sits on the grass next to him. “The water’s sure nice, ain’t it?”

“Yeah,” replies Davey, suddenly feeling very shy as Jack slings an arm around his shoulders and leans into his side. Holy shit. “It’s really nice. Colder than I was expecting.”

“Really now?” Jack reaches down to cup a handful of water and fling it in Davey’s face. “How’s that?”

Davey immediately retaliates, splashing a much more significant amount of water up onto Jack. Both of them are laughing hard, any thoughts of having lunch flying right out the window.

“That’s it, you’re on,” Jack growls, before sneakily wrestling Davey right into the creek. Both of them go down, tumbling fully-clothed into the shallow, cold water. “Take that, Davey-boy!”

The water-fight lasts several minutes and ends with no clear winner. They simply grow tired of it and flop onto the grass, exhausted.

It takes Davey a moment to process just how close together they are. Jack is laying against him, laughing into the crook of his neck. They’re both soaking wet and freezing cold— though it’ll likely only take a few minutes for the sun to warm them up. This means Davey has to act very quickly.

Before he can get caught up in his head and get too nervous to do it, he swallows his fear and presses a quick kiss to Jack’s cheek. Jack’s laughter ceases and he looks up at Davey— he thankfully doesn’t look angry, mostly just confused.

“I hope that was okay,” Davey quickly says, the weight of what he’s just done finally hitting him. “I didn’t mean to cross a line, I just really like you, and—”

He finds himself cut off by Jack’s lips pressing against his own. It takes him a second to process it, but he eventually smiles into the kiss and lets his arms sneak around Jack’s neck to hold him close. He’s not sure he’s ever been this happy before.

“I really like you too,” Jack replies, once they pull away for breath. “So much, Davey. I’m so happy to have you.”

With that, he reconnects their lips and they stay that way for a long while, sunlight streaming over them as birds chirp in the background.

Davey is really, really glad they moved to the country.

Tag list:

@landlessbud @eponinemylove @i-got-personality @alovelymoonbeam @penzyroamin @graceful-popcorn @bencookisagod @auspicioustarantula @neverplannedonsomeonelikeyou @orollyitsracetrackhiggins @backgroundnewsies @magimerlyn @myheartissetinmotion @papesdontsellthemselves @supremebesson @justasadcryptid @marvels-ninja @aw-jus-let-em-try @big-potato-asshole @stop-the-presses @fameworks-quicker @wilde-guess @never-fear-brooklyns-here @r-a-c-e-t-r-a-c-k @fandom-fangirl07 @theresagoodchanceicouldfly @dying-poet

#my writing #newsies #jack kelly #davey jacobs #javid #yee yee!!!! this was fun #jack kelly deserves to be a cowboy in more fics #its his dream ok??

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xtruss · 5 years ago

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100,000 Women, Children and Men Too Old to Fight Were Burned Alive in Six Hours of March 10, 1945

"You could smell...burning flesh in the airplane", "You could see flames...100 miles away"

— John Ismay | Anti-Empire | March 09, 2020 | The New York Times

Can you imagine standing in front of an open bomb-bay door and smelling a city burn up? It was terrifying. At low altitude like that, I didn’t wear an oxygen mask. All I can say is that the smell was nauseating. I’ve never smelled anything like it since, and I don’t want to”

Just past midnight, hundreds of B-29 Superfortress bombers arrived over Tokyo, having launched from the Mariana Islands, which the United States had recently captured from the Imperial Japanese Army at great human cost. The aircraft had largely been stripped of their armaments so that they could carry even more clusters of small incendiary munitions. Young American officers in the sky dropped hundreds of thousands of bomblets on the working-class section of the city, with its densely packed wooden dwellings mainly inhabited at the time by women, children and men too old to fight.

Before that March 10, 1945, assault, named Operation Meetinghouse, the Army Air Forces had been conducting high-altitude, high-explosive “precision” attacks during the day on military sites and factories in Japan, with limited success. So Maj. Gen. Curtis E. LeMay, the officer in charge of strategic bombing from the Marianas, drew upon years of U.S. military research on the flammability of Japanese buildings to usher in a more aggressive tactic: dropping firebombs (also known as incendiary bombs) at night on population centers. If they couldn’t take out the factories, they could kill the people who worked in them.

Curtis LeMay receiving the after-action report for the March 10th Tokyo raid

Over several hours, U.S. Army Air Forces warplanes destroyed the shitamachi, or the low -lying section of Tokyo, and killed an estimated 100,000 Japanese citizens in a firestorm. The United States Strategic Bombing Survey later wrote that “probably more persons lost their lives by fire at Tokyo in a six-hour period than at any time in the history of man.” The devastating results motivated military leaders to continue incendiary bombing raids on Japan’s other cities — both large and small — in hopes of forcing the Japanese to surrender. Before the war’s end, firebombs dropped by B-29s killed hundreds of thousands of Japanese citizens in more than 60 cities before nuclear bombs leveled Hiroshima and Nagasaki.

“We hated what we were doing,” said Jim Marich, one of the airmen who flew over Tokyo that night as part of the B-29 aircrews. “But we thought we had to do it. We thought that raid might cause the Japanese to surrender.” Marich’s somber account of his role in the missions is a grim reminder of the indelible scars left on both the survivors of the attack and those who conducted it.

In interviews with The Times, Marich, now 94, and three other airmen who took part in the firebombings reflected on their determination to accomplish their missions and get home as soon as possible, while grappling with the particular horror they witnessed being inflicted on those below.

First Lt. Richard Gross

Richard Gross, 95

Mercer Island, Wash.

First Lieutenant, 874th Bomb Squadron, 498th Bomb Group

On Saipan, I was in Quonset hut barracks with another crew. And that crew was chosen as the lead crew on the first firebomb mission. The crew members were brought in and asked if they objected to firebombing the cities of Japan. A number of people raised their hands. But the order came down: “Well, that’s your opinion, but the orders are you’re going to go on the mission.” I guess they could have declined, but I don’t know if any did. This was the first information people had that we were going to be bombing the cities.

Lt. Richard Gross served as a B-29 navigator on 35 missions over Japan in 1945

I was a navigator. At the time, you just didn’t think about those things. We had a job to do and we did it. We were burning houses, but we didn’t think about the people. I didn’t reflect on the war until much later. You start to think about how awful the war was. Afterward, I decided to go to medical school and do something positive for a change.

Jim Marich, 94

Mercer Island, Wash.

Second Lieutenant, 869th Bomb Squadron, 497th Bomb Group

Our group, the 497th, was the last one to go in. It started out like a regular mission. We had changed from fragmentary bombs to the incendiaries at Maj. Gen. Curtis LeMay’s request — or demand. He brought us down from high-altitude bombing with fragmentary bombs to low-level with incendiaries. We wiped out that whole area on that one night. It was terrifying, really.

You could smell, I’m sorry to say, burning flesh in the airplane. And we were really tossed around from the updrafts. We safely went on with the mission and went on with lesser-known missions. But by then, the Japanese fighter response was practically nil. And we knew that the war was going to be over pretty doggone soon. I was home in October of that year in my own little bed, and I had not even achieved my 20th birthday.

Ed Lawson, 96

Fredonia, N.Y

Technical Sergeant, 882nd Bomb Squadron, 500th Bomb Group

I was a gunner, looking out the right blister window, right behind the wing. All I wanted to do was go home. The Japanese laid out their cities like a big checkerboard, and so we had pathfinder crews that went in first and then the other bombers came in after. Since we were behind other planes, we ran into smoke clouds that could send you up 20,000 feet with the snap of a finger. There were at least two B-29s I knew of that collided and went down in a smoke cloud.

My job was to stand by the open bomb-bay doors and throw chaff out — these long strips of aluminum foil to confuse Japanese radar. Can you imagine standing in front of an open bomb-bay door and smelling a city burn up? It was terrifying. At low altitude like that, I didn’t wear an oxygen mask. All I can say is that the smell was nauseating. I’ve never smelled anything like it since, and I don’t want to.

The original idea of the Geneva Convention is that civilian targets were out, and it was military targets that should be used. In Europe, you had the Russians and the Germans — especially the Nazis — bombing civilians. When we did the firebombings, we were killing civilians.

Clint Osborne, 96

Golden Eagle, Ill.

Technical Sergeant, 873rd Bomb Squadron, 498th Bomb Group

I made one firebomb mission with my second crew on March 24. We went in at about 6,800 feet. There were something like 400 planes up that night. We were about 200 in. You could see flames, they estimated, about 100 miles away. I’ve always felt bad about that. I thought, Where will the people go? If everything around you is burning, what do you do? They burned up an awful lot of Nagoya that night. I don’t remember how many square miles.

If I remember correctly, when they announced what was going to happen, there were a few pilots who refused to fly because of humanitarian reasons. But eventually there was enough pressure put on them that they changed their mind.

Clint Osborne in March 1943

I still wouldn’t approve of it today. Of course, the rules of war are pretty vague, but one of the things is that you don’t attack civilians. But they justified it by saying people were manufacturing things for the war effort in their homes. I often questioned how much they could really be doing. But one thing people agree on is that the fire raids were probably worse than the atomic bomb.

— Source: The New York Times

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rtirman-blog · 7 years ago

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9 Foster Avenue

Here’s where life gets a bit fuzzy for me. I can’t remember if I finished 2nd grade at P.S. 208 and then started 3rd grade at P.S. 152, or if we moved before the school year ended. We moved almost every year. I think that was because the rents went up every year. I tend to think I completed 2nd grade at 208.

*My thinking is now based on a brief phone conversation I just had with Al.

He has been reading my blog. And called to tell me to keep up the writing! He was very complimentary and encouraging. But some of my memory was faulty regarding the Old Man (referring to Daddy). Naturally, I told him, “Don’t tell me, you remember things your way, and I remember things my way…but what about Daddy?”

He told me, that Daddy didn’t go into the Army until we moved from E. 48th St. to Foster Ave.

That got me wondering why I don’t have a memory of Daddy on Linden Boulevard. As I told you, I remember those nighttime air raid drills, sitting in front of the fake fireplace…there’s no Daddy in those memories. I suppose that’s why I thought he was in the army.”

Here’s Al’s explanation: After Daddy graduated from St. John’s University Law School, he was working for a title company doing title searches. During that time, Daddy was also very active in trying to unionize the lawyers in Brooklyn. That activity led to him being blacklisted by law firms in New York. In order to survive, he took a job as a ticket receiver for the Pennsylvania Railroad. He worked second shift, which translates into him hardly ever being home when I was awake. Ergo, mistakenly, I thought it was then, on Linden Blvd., when he was in the Army. Actually, according to my brother, Mother and Daddy split while we were living on 48th Street. Daddy moved downtown, and let the Draft Board know he was no longer living with us. His draft status went from 3A to 1A, which got him drafted into the Army pretty quickly.

Thanks to Al, my memory has been “corrected”. I realize I am deferring to him being older, and therefore, he remembers those things more accurately than me. When doing this, there is a caveat or two to think about: Is it always true the oldest sibling has the best memory? And, memories are “truths” which may be important “facts” in the foundation of our individual thinking and decision making.

Anyway, we moved from E. 48th St. to Foster Avenue. To be exact, to a 5th floor apartment at 2015 Foster Avenue- the first time for me to live west of Flatbush Avenue. In fact, the first corner west of us was Ocean Avenue. I’m pretty sure 2015 Foster Avenue was on the northwest corner of E.21st Street and Foster Avenue.

So, I did start 3rd Grade at P.S. 152. For some reason, I’ve always thought 152 was a real progressive public school. Us kids would either go to school for 4 hours a day, in the mornings or 4 hours a day in the afternoons. If you had a hard time learning what they wanted you to learn, you would have to go to help sessions. So the school ran two 4-hour school sessions, a morning session and an afternoon session, with an hour help session in between, around noon. Other than that, I cannot remember a single thing about that school. But I have several pieces of memory about living on Foster Avenue.

The apartment house was 6 stories. I think we lived on the 5th floor. On the street level there was an awning, shaped like a quonset hut, with the apartment house address. It looked pretty classy to me. Funny thing, about two blocks up at Dorchester Rd and E 21st, there was an apartment house with the exact same awning, only its address said “2015 Dorchester Rd”.

Probably, both buildings had the same owner. What is incredible to me is that my Uncle Wally and Aunt Harriet lived on the first floor in the Dorchester Rd apartments.

It was at the apartment on Foster Avenue when we found out my Uncle Lloyd became “missing in action”. He was a navigator on a B-24 Liberator that went down in the China Sea. If my memory serves me right, we found that out on D-Day. Lloyd was a superb football player, and had he lived, he would have played for the New York Giants… of this, I was certain.

On the 4th of July, there was lots of excitement for me on Foster Avenue. Firecrackers were everywhere. But my favorite was a thing that looked like a badminton shuttlecock. It had feathers and a head made out of metal. There was also a metal cup that was place over the head. To use it, either match tips (from wood match sticks) or caps were put on the head. Then, the cup would be placed over it. ��You would then throw the whole thing in the air, and when it came down hitting the street pavement…BOOM… and you then could watch the shuttlecock, feathers and all, shoot directly up, stories high! Some of them got almost as high as the apartment house. I never saw those particular fireworks anywhere else in the City or on Long Island.

My only other recollection related to Foster Avenue is what Flatbush Avenue looked like to me.

Flatbush was just a couple of short blocks east. It had grocery stores with fruit and vegetable stands outside on the sidewalk. The interesting thing to me was so many of the people spoke Yiddish. At least, that’s what I think today. Since my grandmother lived close by, at the time, I assumed everyone was speaking Hungarian because that is what I thought she spoke. Today, it makes more sense to me that the language was Yiddish.

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aaronsniderus · 7 years ago

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Lessons from a Pro: Tips to Make Your Airbnb More Appealing

All photos by Jesse David Green

So you have an extra room in your home, or maybe you own a vacation home and you want to make some extra cash in the off months. There are multiple reasons to start renting on Airbnb, but after you decide to take the plunge, how do you ensure it’s a space where people actually want to stay?

Jesse David Green, a photographer by trade, and his wife are some of the more successful Airbnb hosts in Michigan, and certainly in the Detroit area.

Their New Center Loft in Detroit has been featured by Airbnb, on sites like Apartment Therapy, and there’s even a conference room being designed after the space for a new Airbnb world headquarters.

Jesse hosts four different spaces on the platform, all of which are very successful. We sat down with him to get some tips and tricks on how to make your Airbnb more appealing to potential guests.

When did you start renting on Airbnb?

JDG: We opened our first property (our New Center Loft) on Airbnb in April of 2015.

JDG: It was initially just going to be my workspace, but was a bit more expensive than I needed to be paying just for myself to have an office. It was set up as a full loft apartment within a mixed-use building, so we decided to outfit it entirely as an Airbnb, and it was an almost immediate success. So much so, that two months later it was too busy on Airbnb for me to ever use it as an office, and I had to move elsewhere.

That’s crazy! Sounds like you made the decision to start hosting pretty quickly. How did you get the space ready?

JDG: My wife was always good with design and interiors but has no formal training and had done no client work in the past. So when we decided to create this space to be my office and what we thought would be an occasional nightly rental, we just followed our combined aesthetic that we were already implementing in our own home.

JDG: Some of the furniture we had from a previous office, and then some was sourced or given to us by friends or family. That first project was really on a budget; we probably spent less than $1,000 to get it launched (because of how much we already had and how many deals we got). Honestly, we haven’t changed or added a ton since.

That New Center Loft went on to be featured and is now the most reviewed property in Detroit!

What made you want to list more spaces on Airbnb?

JDG: We loved the process so much! Designing, sourcing and working together has been a blast. We haven’t gotten to do this much in the past with my photography work. We also simply love to share our favorite cities in the world with people. We love putting our favorite items in the space, sharing our favorite places to go and welcoming people into our “home.”

You can tell this is a passion for you. How many Airbnbs do you currently have?

JDG: We currently have four Airbnb properties, three in Detroit and one in Traverse City, Mich. We have a small apartment in West Village, our loft in New Center, a Quonset hut at True North, and our bayfront cottage in Traverse City.

It sounds like you were pretty successful from the beginning. Were there any learning curves?

JDG: In our case, it did start off pretty successful. I feel like we had a lot of great pieces in place that we didn’t really have to outsource, which was relatively lucky. My wife had the eye for design, I found and sourced her visions for most of the things, and then we put it all together, together.

JDG: Since I’m a photographer by day, we obviously had some pretty great photos to showcase the space. Pair that with good guest experience and customer service that I’ve learned from eight years of running my own business, and it worked out pretty well from the beginning.

JDG: There have definitely been occasional hiccups along the way (with inconsiderate guests or unwarranted parties that we weren’t told about) but those stories could all be counted on one hand – and across two and a half years and four properties, I call that a win.

JDG: With each property we added, our account on Airbnb was in better and better standing because of previous reviews, so even when we launch a brand new property, it now shows up pretty high in search results which helps with those early bookings.

That definitely sounds helpful. How do you manage all of your properties, photography and busy life?

JDG: Not a lot of sleep, mostly. I’m in the process of searching for some help currently, because I’m basically running three full-time businesses alone and it’s certainly gotten to a breaking point. We couldn’t add another property if we wanted to without bringing on some help first.

JDG: My wife stays at home with our kids too, which means she doesn’t have a whole lot of time in her schedule to help on that front either. Thankfully, Airbnb provides some pretty great resources to help handle the actual communication. Prepared responses are huge, as well as the app. I basically do almost everything from the app unless I’m actually at my computer. I can manage almost anything from my phone, including communicating with my cleaning person, checking the schedule and accepting new bookings.

Sounds like it keeps you guys busy! Do you have any suggestions for someone starting out? Anything that makes an Airbnb more appealing?

JDG: Photos that are bright, beautiful and accurate to every angle of your space are key.

JDG: People hate surprises. You have to set expectations and stick to them. Cleanliness is also everything. I can’t tell you how many of our five-star reviews explicitly point out how clean everything was, from the house to the linens to the floors. We take great pride in clean spaces that are exactly what people were expecting from the photos we post.

JDG: I’ve shown up to Airbnbs on multiple occasions where you can tell which corners they took photos in, and everything outside of that is terrible. I never want to be one of those places for people.

Make sure it smells good, and feels cozy and inviting. Keep the temperature at a nice range and source small decor items from local makers whenever possible.

JDG: I’d also say don’t be shady about anything. Be super upfront, even if there is something wrong with your building or space. For example, our apartment in West Village is in transition of being renovated. All the interior units are renovated, but the exterior isn’t the prettiest and could feel semi-shady to an out-of-towner. We’re upfront about that.

JDG: We say it’s in transition and being slowly renovated. We say the alleyway to access the parking lot has massive potholes and feels dark at night, but we also say it’s safe and it’s been servicing cars for 100+ years. Not a soul has complained because we set expectations correctly and now it’s our second-busiest property.

JDG: Also, be mindful and kind to your neighbors – and set those expectations very clearly with your guests. These are other people’s homes that are nearby and they deserve a quiet place to come home to at the end of the night that doesn’t have transient people being annoying every night of the week.

I make sure our neighbors always have my contact information, and I show up and check in all the time so they know I’m not just doing this from afar. Kindness and being good to people goes a long way on both sides of this operation.

Those are some solid words of advice. Are there any special touches you add to make your guests feel more welcome?

JDG: Really just creating warm and inviting spaces.

JDG: If we hear someone is in town celebrating something special and we’re able to make it happen, we’ll leave a bag of coffee or a bottle of champagne or wine. It doesn’t always happen, but if we can have a little something special for people, we like to. We also include local magazines, artwork, goods and our guidebook on Airbnb of our favorite places. Our guests comment on these things constantly.

Any last advice for someone starting out on Airbnb?

JDG: Be kind and be mindful of every step of the process while setting up a space and running it after that. Use white linens, because they can be bleached, and you can never have enough sets of sheets or towels! Learn from your mistakes and own up to them, give guests partial refunds if you screw anything up.

There you have it! From a successful Airbnb host, here’s what you need to know to make your space a hit. Have any more tips to make an Airbnb more appealing? Share them in the comments!

The post Lessons from a Pro: Tips to Make Your Airbnb More Appealing appeared first on ZING Blog by Quicken Loans.

from Updates About Loans https://www.quickenloans.com/blog/lessons-pro-tips-make-airbnb-appealing

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mikebrackett · 7 years ago

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Lessons from a Pro: Tips to Make Your Airbnb More Appealing

All photos by Jesse David Green

Jesse David Green, a photographer by trade, and his wife are some of the more successful Airbnb hosts in Michigan, and certainly in the Detroit area.

Their New Center Loft in Detroit has been featured by Airbnb, on sites like Apartment Therapy, and there’s even a conference room being designed after the space for a new Airbnb world headquarters.

Jesse hosts four different spaces on the platform, all of which are very successful. We sat down with him to get some tips and tricks on how to make your Airbnb more appealing to potential guests.

When did you start renting on Airbnb?

JDG: We opened our first property (our New Center Loft) on Airbnb in April of 2015.

That’s crazy! Sounds like you made the decision to start hosting pretty quickly. How did you get the space ready?

That New Center Loft went on to be featured and is now the most reviewed property in Detroit!

What made you want to list more spaces on Airbnb?

You can tell this is a passion for you. How many Airbnbs do you currently have?

It sounds like you were pretty successful from the beginning. Were there any learning curves?

That definitely sounds helpful. How do you manage all of your properties, photography and busy life?

Sounds like it keeps you guys busy! Do you have any suggestions for someone starting out? Anything that makes an Airbnb more appealing?

JDG: Photos that are bright, beautiful and accurate to every angle of your space are key.

Make sure it smells good, and feels cozy and inviting. Keep the temperature at a nice range and source small decor items from local makers whenever possible.

Those are some solid words of advice. Are there any special touches you add to make your guests feel more welcome?

JDG: Really just creating warm and inviting spaces.

Any last advice for someone starting out on Airbnb?

There you have it! From a successful Airbnb host, here’s what you need to know to make your space a hit. Have any more tips to make an Airbnb more appealing? Share them in the comments!

The post Lessons from a Pro: Tips to Make Your Airbnb More Appealing appeared first on ZING Blog by Quicken Loans.

from Updates About Loans https://www.quickenloans.com/blog/lessons-pro-tips-make-airbnb-appealing

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rusticrevivals · 8 years ago

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You can’t really completely live self-sufficiently and in an eco-friendly manner unless you have an animal to help you in the bush with your wood to heat the home, to help you plough the garden and even the driveway in winter, and an animal to offer you milk for all your dairy products. And of course chickens, for eggs and meat! But the latter will have to wait a while because the former have already taken up a LOT of time and energy! Mostly the energy of Richard, his brother, and his niece’s fiance. That is to say, the ‘menfolk’. ( But I’ve been leaving off baking bread and basement gardening and spending most days wielding a hammer lately as well….)

Back in February we bought the Clydesdale/Belgian cross on recommendation alone (that is that he was only 5 and that he was BOMBPROOF quiet, which Richard needs as he’s not used to horses, and after 3 back surgeries and some busted-up knees, I ALSO now NEED!) He came from more than 3 hours away, and as I knew we couldn’t justify a trip that far just to have a look at him, I asked for a video clip of him hauling logs, and was more than satisfied that he was excellent at this chore.

The hunt for a dairy goat has been going on since last October, but they are even more rare in this province than a good draft horse, so that has been a problem indeed. It’s also one of the reasons I’d scheduled Richard and me for a 3 or 4 hour lesson at the goat farm in Maine; I wanted us to feel confident with all the extra skills and knowledge needed to have a few dairy animals. (I owned a goat in my 20s, but just having one around and being responsible for breeding, raising and selling its kids, and sanitarily milking it are very different circumstances indeed!) We were scheduled to attend the farm in Maine on Sunday, but sadly our truck decided to have over-heating and thermostat problems and we had to cancel. THAT is what today’s blog was supposed to be on, so I’ve had to do some hustling to get ready for this special feature – the preparation for and arrival of our livestock.

The potato quonset that we call part Richard’s workshop/garage, and part ‘barn’ is a big ole piece of tin with a massive cement floor and an echo in it that could stave off the advent of Satan. While I do enjoy going out at night sometimes and bellowing out some Bee Gees tunes to hear the reverb., it’s not a great environment for spooky animals, and besides, Richard in NO WAY wanted the animals being walked past his precious ’73 Chevy Nova. So we needed a run-in shelter with attached paddock (horses are much happier if they can come in and go outside as they please in all weathers), as well as a separate goat stall, although we were really hoping that whatever goat we had would be mostly in WITH the horse as they are compatible critters to each other. In fact, many race horse owners will have a goat actually living in the stall with a hot-tempered equine to calm them.

I designed the lay-out of the ‘stall’/run-in, and since Smitty refused to use the kennel/dog-house I built for him last fall (he tore it apart in under 2 hours on 2 different occasions. It’s what ya call radical co-dependency!) I decided the goat could have the ‘kennel run’ and massive insulated dog-house. To start with, then, Richard and I took bolts out of the tin on two sides of the furthest end of the barn, one for a large 8.5 foot tall door for the Clyde cross, and one man-door for us to run in and out without worrying about going through the paddock area and gates, etc. After he and I took out all the bolts, he started cutting the metal, which really impressed me as I thought that was too scary a job for an accident-prone fella like him:

This is the livestock door, with Richard’s impressive cutting from the outside!

This is the ‘man-door’ for quick trips in and out of the barn.

Next, we had our neighbours’ relatives come in with an excavator and cut the adjoining cement from the foundation, as well as make a slope out into what would be the paddock or corral for both horse and goat. This took a lot less time than I would have thought! Only a few hours and it was finished!

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So, ta-da! Great to have all this light in the other end now!

The next step, of course, was to buy the rough lumber, which we got at two different mills in two local towns. Our favourite mill owner lets us have HUGE discounts on 4 by 4s and even the wood-chips/sawdust mix I’m using for footing over the cement. A whole trailer-load for 15.00! (I’m BEDDING the horse on straw, as no one likes to lie on CHUNKS of wood, and sawdust doesn’t drain well when urinated on, BUT there are no proper wood-shavings – peeled pieces – sold in this part of the province, so we’re making do with a combo.!)

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Once Richard did all the mathematical figuring (about 8 times over!) we laid in a good supply and asked the family for help. Richard’s niece from Saint John is getting married here at the farm next year, so Carriann came up to work on wedding plans with me, while the 3 men, Richard, his brother Jean-Marc, and Matthieu got hard to work digging post holes. Richard already knew from experimenting that the manual post-hole digger I had him buy wasn’t going to work in this very rocky soil, so he’d even arranged to rent an auger for the weekend. Those hubbies sure worked hard for 2 days straight getting those holes dug and the posts (which we tarred first for protection on the underground portion) set into the hilly terrain. Note: although I’m told that pressure-treated wood is no longer poisonous for livestock with a tendency to chew, I don’t trust it, and besides it’s MILES more expensive per foot! (Slideshow can be clicked through to make it faster, if you prefer).

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We didn’t get the posts as deep as I’d hoped – it is suggested that in this part of N.B., the frostline is at 3.5 to 4 feet, so I wanted the posts deeper than that, but there were so many rocks in the ground and poor Matt seemed to have the dirtiest job of trying to heave them all out, so we compromised with just a little over 3 ft down. We may have to do the paddock over in a few years; we’ll just have to wait and see what the winters bring! (also note: the tar shouldn’t be exposed where animals might chew at it either, but they painted the posts thinking they’d be in deeper. However, the goat fence I knew we’d have to install would protect greedy mouths and bored little brains from taking a chomp on this black stuff.)

TIP – When building a fence of this type, so many non-farmer folk think it looks ‘prettier’ to have the boards on the OUTSIDE; this is a common mistake. Livestock ALWAYS lean on the fence (ie: the grass is always greener) and can either split the boards more easily, OR pop the nails out if the boards are on the outside. If you MUST do this for aesthetics, make sure you have an electric fence system strung ’round on the inside, to keep the livestock off your rails or panels.

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After the rellies left that weekend, Richard and I spent two full days cutting and nailing up the boards, although we did frequently ‘cheat’ and use the massive nail gun, which shoots 4 inch nails deep into the posts! I then continued -in rain, sleet, wind and, when sun was out so were the blackflies!,- to put the goat fence up by myself, whilst Richard worked on building the wall of the stall/run-in (attached in part to what was formerly Smitty’s kennel, built by myself out of old doors from the inside of the house, and a huge television stand Richard had made for us years ago – which will now also be part of the chicken coop!) REMEMBER – REUSE, RECYCLE AND REDUCE! (As always, you can click on any of the photos to enlarge for details).

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Above, top two pics are of me nailing up not only the goat fence (so they can’t climb out or under) but also putting old 1970s mouldings from the house over the top edge of the wire so no one gets hurt on it. Not sure how the mouldings will hold up over the course of a winter, but it’s one quick, eco-friendly and inexpensive way of the protecting the animals’ skins without going to town for yet more supplies! Another hope for the goat fence – it will help prevent predators from easily getting access into the barn which is where the chicken coop will eventually be. Bottom 3 picks are of my drop-rail gate, with skinnier tree trunks below to keep the goat out, and heavier ones above in case the horse leans over. This horse-shoe gate arrangement has always held me in good stead for a quick and easy solution, and the trees we cut were already being crowded out by larger trees, so needed to be thinned anyway…

BELOW, Richard not only worked on the wall and gate for the run-in shelter, but had to build a massive door frame for the loose and jagged tin, and fill in holes left by the cement foundation being removed:

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We planned the wall 4 boards solid to a) help keep out predators again from the eventual chicken coop which will also be attached to this wall and b) so that the goat won’t jump up and get a leg caught, as goats are prone to do! Also, in the far corner of the stall, note the two beams on the floor that I’ve put to make a separate ‘bed’ -Richard calls it ‘the mattress area’. So while there are rough chips in most of the interior for just standing up and off the cement, the straw is on top of this base foundation in case either animal wants to lie down. Also, it may be hard to see in this photo (and I’ve since put on ripped bits of bright-coloured plastic bags that have triply served their purpose in the house for covering foods, etc.,) but each day the horse will be pastured in an electric fence enclosure for grazing, and the goat will be tethered nearby.

Thus, as you can see from the below two photos, both the outside and inside enclosures are now complete, and we are so happy and exhausted from making them so!

And now, for the fun part! Introducing Chevy the horse (Richard decided he was about the same size as his beloved Nova, although I pointed out he’d be a lot more EFFICIENT AND USEFUL ! In my head, I think of “Chevy” as either short for “cheval” OR as a representation of Chevy Chase, who was the star of Funny Farm, mentioned in the blog posting from our move here last May…) and, along with him, his little friend, the female yearling “Cammie” (Richard also chose this name – really, for Camero – show emoticon of my rolling my eyes here – but Cammie does seem to suit her…) We hope she may someday become our first dairy goat, but for now, she’s just along as a ‘friend’ for Chevy, and so that we can give her some special attention as she’s rail thin and as co-dependent on us as Smitty still is!

Here’s their arrival last night, in the god-awful, far-too-low-for-a-draft-horse cow trailer, on which they stood loaded for nearly 7 hours while cattle were taken on and off and they were driven all over the western part of the province before finally alighting here. I took a shot of my first view of Chevy and my first view of Cammie, also:

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They were VERY glad to get into their run-in and paddock, and on terra firma! The blue collar is for Blue Belldon Farm, of course!

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Richard had a few tender moments with Cammie, who is very sweet, and though I’ve told him we’re not making hand-feeding a rule (it leads to a nippy horse, and no one needs that!) I let him try feeding Chevy an apple. FLAT PALM!!!!!

Both animals are underweight and in desperate need of some good grooming, but time on grass and elbow grease will solve those matters, and they are both very kind and quiet, as advertised by word of mouth through the ‘grapevine’. I don’t recommend buying animals – esp. a horse! – sight unseen, but again, I’m experienced in what to look for, and who/what questions asked, and we purchased from one of the most reliable draft people in the province, apparently. A certain amount of luck is always involved anyway, no matter how many times you may go try a horse, get him vetted, etc.! So in this case, we just clung on to faith and gave it a shot. NOT recommended for first-time homesteaders, though!

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So, thanks to the husband for all the work and effort, thanks to the OTHER hubbies for their time that post-hole-digging weekend, and please enjoy this wonderful quote about “Animal Husbandry” by Tom Robbins:

“Hardly a pure science, history is closer to animal husbandry than it is to mathematics, in that it involves selective breeding. The principal difference between the husbandryman and the historian is that the former breeds sheep or cows or such, and the latter breeds (assumed) facts. The husbandryman uses his skills to enrich the future; the historian uses his to enrich the past. Both are usually up to their ankles in bullshit.”

Stay tuned for more from the Chevy/Cammie side of life at Blue Belldon Farm!

NEXT WEEK : Before and afters of the upstairs hall-way floor (Mom’s suite). From darkly stained plywood to ‘weathered and worn old pine boards!’………. HOW?

Husbands and Husbandry You can't really completely live self-sufficiently and in an eco-friendly manner unless you have an animal to help you in the bush with your wood to heat the home, to help you plough the garden and even the driveway in winter, and an animal to offer you milk for all your dairy products.

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