#oxford exterior painting

[r4vn]

—SNAKE'S TONGUE

farleıgh x reader 【1/2】

w.c: 4,148

disclaimers: nsfw, cursing, heavy sexual tension, teasing, versfem!reader, vers!farleigh, heavy kissing/making out, enemies to lovers, porn w plot, impatient farleigh, fighting for dominance, slight ignorance? (lol you'll see), sexual frustration, arguing

—synopsis: your friend venetia invites you to stay with her for easter weekend. while you do, you bump heads with a sharp tongued male, who is around every corner you turn and you eventually go up against his words.

a/n: this will have a second part!!!..im soo sorry the intro is long. the places mentioned are also real places i couldnt make up anything lol kdjddkks. im rlly excited for you guys to read..i just love tension ahh...enjoy! stay tuned for the second part !

— part ²: here

「divider by @/ cafekitsune」

you had been friends with venetia since secondary school. she was a year older, you were 15 and she was 16. were you two the bestest of best friends? maybe not. but were you two were one of the only friends to each other since then. sure you had a couple of above surface friends, but venetia knew things personal of you. venetia was labled "the black sheep" in her family. one of the very few family members that didn't paint the world full of luxurious, narrow-minded bliss, yet had to play along on her exterior.

how you two became friends wasnt a rather complex story. you were sitting outside at breaktime during secondary school, fumbling with the hem of your school jacket on a bench. you watched as other cliques happily chatted about going to a cafe after school or grabbing dinner. it wasn't really your strongsuit on making friends, because it was always a hassle. venetia had suddenly appeared next to you, and her hand held out a couple of cigarettes. you were appalled she was just holding out a cigarette on school grounds so carelessly.

"no one's going to tell, just take it." you stared at the two cylindrical-shaped tobacco stick's between her fingers before briskly grabbing it to take it out of open view. she shoots you a half smile before lighting hers. you darted your head around to see the teachers occupied by other students or teachers, forcing yourself to relax your shoulders. you held up the cigarette toward the blonde, silently asking for a light.

"venetia, you?" you answered with your name before inhaling smoke into your lungs slowly. she nodded in response. the two of you sat in a mildly comfortable silence and watched others interact. it wasn't long till teachers signaled it was time to head inside again, you and venetia putting out the cigarettes and grinding them into the ground with the heel of your shoes. throughout junior high, you and venetia would sneak off for a smoke and get to know each other. you learned her last name; catton. she had a younger brother who was your age named felix, and lived in a grand home with acres that touched the horizon of the trees. from the words venetia described, she was well off coming from an even more well off family with a mini mansion.

you didn't find it weird that you never stepped foot in or at her home. you were completely fine with being surface level friends that oddly share every bit about your social and home life. although it makes sense considering you moved away the first year of college. from northamptonshire to bristol, england. luckily you and venetia had kept in touch up to university. you had gotten accepted to oxford university, excited to finally have the freedom of a university student. you had just finished your first term and had an amazing jumpstart. you were staying on top of your studies and found a couple of surface friends to go out with occasionally. now it was summer break and you were ready to get out of the university itself.

before oxford, you lived with your mother in a nice victorian styled home in bristol. your mother was a successful attorney. though she was present in your life, that doesn't mean she spent time with you. she was either always held up in her office for days or not home all hours of the sunlight. your father, that bastard, was not present due to a divorce that happened when you were about 9, leaving you and your mom with half his values for being unfaithful. he had an affair with a coworker of his. it didn't hurt as much as it should have, though you know at the thought of him, you resent him. you didn't have to get a job, as your household was financially stable. you had the things you wanted, nice house, your own car, and you never went hungry. you weren't poor but you weren't as wealthy as venetia either.

in your text conversations whenever you two talked about her home, she would send pictures of only her room, the common area and the gardens. you never pressed for more than what you were sent. but you were curious to see this home you'd conversed about for years now, and you were going to.

this school break, venetia had spontaneously invited you to stay at her home so you wouldn't have to be driving nearly 2 hours back home. she had never invited you over before. you were curious and excited.

"oh its so lovely to see you after all these years!" venetia exclaimed as she hugged you at the door. you smile and return the tight hug. venetia lets go of you after a handful of seconds and grabs your luggage for you, gesturing for you to come in.

"how was the drive? better than driving home 2 hours right?" she joked, smiling back at you.

"yeah," you responded in awe as you looked all around you. the home was beautiful. none of the photos venetia sent did it justice. the carved wooden frames and panels, color assorted rooms, vintage furniture, and even chandeliers in every room. it was breathtaking. "way better than driving back to a nearly empty home."

you hear venetia chuckle. she was clearly amused by your awe of her home. you quickly switched to a poker face as you continued to follow her and silently admired. she gave you a quick tour of the house, showing you the common room you two walked through first, several lounge rooms, the dining room, library, the tv room and finally her room. it looked better in person to you.

"this, is your room, the room next to me so knock if you ever need anything. and, if you go into this door here," you follow her as she opens a dark wooden door to a red wallpapered lounge room, walking across it. she then opened another door and revealed a bathroom suite.

"and here is your personal washroom." the walls were made of dark green tiles that contrasted the white tile floor. in the middle of the bathroom sat a white tub. you look to the left of the tub to see the sink with 3 mirrors, bordered by a gold encasing. the house was truly beautiful.

"now, i will let you get unpacked and freshened up, dinner is in an hour and a half. i will be in the tv room but if im not there, meet me and the rest of us in the dining room. oh! and wear something nice. we dress up for dinner, remember?" you nodded and waved her off as she exited. it was good she reminded you to bring a few formal pieces of clothing for dinner. or else you would've felt like a bum in front of her family. you took a breath, finally taking it all in. you felt so small in such a grand house. for once it felt nice to feel like the lower class. to experience such awe of a luxury in person felt like a reward of some sort.

regarding the amount of time before dinner you had, you began to unpack, fold and hang up your clothes in the old aged wardrobe. you grabbed your toiletries and placed them in the bathroom before looking at your reflection.

"i should shower, i feel kind of gross." you mumbled to yourself. you started the water, letting it run to fill the bathtub as you undressed yourself. when full, you slowly stepped in, your muscles immediately relaxing at the contact of warm water. it felt nice to finally relax after studying for hours. you dunk yourself underwater with a big breath of oxygen. the muffled silence of the water calmed you. it felt like a warm blanket was wrapped around you. you didn't stay in the tub long, knowing you were in a slight time crunch. exiting your calm thought bubble, you unplugged the drain and stepped out the tub.

you quickly dried yourself off before wringing out the excess water in your hair. heading into your room, you grabbed your off the shoulder black dress and slipped it on over your body. it was too late to blowdry your hair so you made a last minute decision to wear it slicked back, content with how it accentuated your features. you wore light smokey eye makeup and simply rubbed clear gloss on your lips. nothing too flashy. you finally finished getting ready and slipped on some low heels before exiting your room.

you have never dressed for dinner before. you did feel a bit overdressed yes, but you knew you looked good. you wandered around for a bit before finding the tv room, slowly opening it to reveal only one person. he didn't look familiar. he also wasn't in formal clothing. you began to feel really overdressed now.

"can i help you?" he asked in a bored tone. by his accent, and his choice of style, he was american. it threw you for a slight loop, because you didn't know venetia had an american sibling. you ran a hand through your damp hair before clearing your throat.

"i was looking for venetia, im a friend of hers. do you know where to find her?" you asked, noticing his eyes looking you up and down. he suddenly stood and walked slowly towards you till he was about a foot apart.

you held his gaze, but he decided to analyze you. from your hair to your make up to your outfit. you didnt mind, considering you knew you looked good. the two of you shared a long silence before he sighed audibly with a faux smile.

"well if i didn't know any better, i'd say you were dressed for dinner. so, did you try the dinning room?" he queried, sarcasm lacing his voice. all you did was roll your eyes and turn your heel to exit the tv room. you made your way to the dining room now, the american lingering in your mind.

what an ass. who even is he?

you were nearing the dining room now, anxiety filling your chest. you exhaled deeply and looked at the butler standing near the door.

"erm—..am i presentable enough, sir?" you asked the butler, in hopes of getting some words of encouragment. the bulter turned to you and scanned your dress, briefly nodding. it made you smile. it wasn't much but a little goes a long way. the 2 butlers simultaneously opened the door for you, revealing a moderately dimly lit room, and about 5 people at the table.

"oh [y/n] we were just talking about you!" mrs.catton exclaimed with the brightest smile. you returned the smile before sitting next to venetia, greeting her.

"its so nice to meet you mr. and mrs.catton." you proclaimed. mrs.catton scoffs with a laugh and a wave of her hand.

"please, elspeth is perfectly fine. this is my husband, sir james, my son felix and his friend oliver. he is also staying for break." you greeted everyone, making sure to remember their names to their faces. you didn't feel as tense anymore to know that you weren't the only guest in the home.

"so, do tell me about yourself [y/n]. as much as i've heard from venetia i would like to hear it from you! you're from bristol, yes?" elspeth rested her chin on the back of her intertwined hands to give you her full attention. you glance at venetia, who subtly mumbled a 'sorry', most likely for talking about you. there were no hard feelings though. you remembered how venetia said her mother had absolutely no filter.

"yes, i am from bristol. i used to live here, which is how venetia and i met, back in secondary school. but i moved before i started my college education." elspeth hummed in an interested tone, taking a moment to eat a bite of her food.

"and you moved because of your mothers work, yes? an attorney?" you nodded at her words, briefly thanking the bulter who brought you your plate.

"yes, my mum moved to bristol for her job. and well, i followed suit considering she provides for me." you chuckled out, getting a soft laugh from elspeth and sir james. as soon as elspeth opened her mouth again, the doors opened again to reveal the american from earlier. this time, he was in a black suit and looked more cleaned up than prior to meeting him.

"farleiiigh, you're laaate." felix mumbled in a singy-songy tone with his glass to his mouth.

"sue me, golden boy." farleigh waved him off and sat down with a sigh. as the curly brunette sat down, his eyes landed on you, who was sitting right across from him. he let out another gentle sigh before signaling the butler.

"as i was saying," elspeth started, clearing her throat. "an attorney ..wow, what a brilliant profession your mother went into. and its just you and her, yes? venetia said your father is out of the picture. is that unfortunate?" the blonde women questioned. you were prepared for her unfiltered questions but it seems venetia deeply disliked it, taking a big swig of her wine filled cup. you only laughed again, nodding.

"unfortunate isn't the word i'd use but rather ..well, fortunate really. i mean who would want to keep a bastard whore in their home?" your words seemed to of caught some of the table off guard, hearing brief chokes from felix, elspeth and venetia. though elspeth was the only one to laugh.

"oh yes! i like her, venetia! very open with her thoughts, yes." elspeth giggled as she sipped her glass.

"oh yes, very entertaining really. im curious though," you turned to farleigh, listening to his words. "do you think you're going to follow your mom's ..or your dad's footsteps?" he asked, a faint smug expression occupying his face. you rose a brow, keeping your facial expressions to a minimum. you force a laugh, taking a bite into the piece of meat dressed on your plate.

"well i would hope to follow in my mother's footsteps. what about you, farleigh? do you think you'll follow in, well, either of your parents footsteps?" you questoned sweetly. farleigh didnt answer. you could see his eye twitch, proably from irritation. you didnt know much about him, but from a general standpoint, and simply knowing he was american, you could say it was written on his sleeve. it interested you though. to know his history, and who he was.

"oh don't mind him [y/n]. farleigh is a cousin of ours. sir james' sister is his mother.” elspeth dramatically placed her hand up to her mouth to block it away from farleigh, loudly whispering. "she left to the states and had farleigh. so yes, we are stuck with him. but dont worry! we treat him like one of our own, because he is!" you glanced to farleigh, who simply rolled his eyes as he ate silently. you, too, began to eat quietly quietly as small conversations occupied the room.

°°°

finally being able to breathe a little lighter, you lay back on your bed starting up at the decorated ceiling. every single inch of this place was dazzling to you. before you got too tired, you quickly stood up and slipped off your dress to put on black flowy pajama pants and a thin-strapped black silk top. as it got warmer throughout the month, you noted to pack light flowy clothes for both the day and night.

you headed into the bathroom to wash off your makeup and brush your teeth for the evening. you then took the time to brush your now fully dry hair, swooping it over your shoulder, looking at yourself with content in the mirror.

its still early evening, maybe venetia is still awake?

you opened your door to head over to the door down from you, knocking gently.

"venetia? are you up?" you whispered, hearing nothing in return. you try the door, the knob turning open for you to reveal the room. it was gorgeous, yes, but it didn't look the same like in the photos she sent. there were a few luxury brand posters on the wall and the bed that was in front of the window looked as if someone got up. the burnt orange duvet decorated with a paisley pattern matched the sheets and pillow case. there was a chair occupied with clothes that were clearly from luxury brands and a half-open wardrobe which sat to the left of the bed, sharing the same wall as the window.

you had a feeling this was not venetia's room, but it was so stylish you couldn't help but look. the room faintly smelled of fresh green lush, amber and sandalwood, like a fresh walk through the forest. you looked around, daintily touching the duvet and grazing the cashmere cardigan woven with intricate design. you never owned any cashmere. then again, you weren't a complex girl.

out of the corner of your eye you noticed movement outside the window, walking up to the glass slowly. you were careful not to touch the bed but leaned against the bed frame. there were two figures out in the grass. one was sitting and the other kneeled down in front of them. you squint to focus your eyes before covering your mouth.

venetia.

you kept your mouth covered, watching in shock as felix's friend, oliver, touched and messily kissed your friend before going down south on her. she had crimson stains that trailed from her mouth down to her neck. you couldn't even comprehend what you were watching.

"find what you were looking for?" you immediately whipped around to the voice only to be met with farleigh. he was wearing a silk, light blue pajama set, the buttons of his shirt unbuttoned halfway down. he leaned back against the door frame, seemingly being present for several seconds prior to speaking.

"i– i was just–" you faltered, pointing and darting your head back to the window before looking at the brunette in front of you again. technically, he was right. you did find what– no, who you were looking for, just not in the way you'd have preferred.

"right. may i ask what youre doing in my room?" you didn't know how to answer, because there was no right answer for his question. you could say you were looking for venetia but he wouldn't accept that because she clearly wasn't present in the room. you swallowed thickly, taking a small step back.

"hello? snake got your tongue? or maybe you're stalking me? is that it?" you scoffed and shook your head, still only saying vowels instead of words. farleigh stood up and walked slowly towards you now, arms crossed.

"oh, i know, you wanna run a background check on the american because i'm the only one with skin pigment here, right?" your back hit the wardrobe, making you quickly realize there was nowhere to go. you furrowed your brows at his words, frustration beginning to bubble up inside you.

"oh is that the kind of game you want to play? the race game? ugh i swear that's all you americans think about." you bit back, noticing subtle shock in farleighs face. "frankly, i don't care if you're american or if you're english. its easy enough not to be a fucking stuck up cunt to anyone who doesn't own luxurious clothing or lives in a mini mansion. prick..." you mumbled the last word loud enough for him to hear. the tall brunette stared down at you silently, biting down on his lip.

"what .." you muttered out. "snake got your tongue?" your words earned a low chuckle from farleigh, his fingers caressing a strand of your [h/c] hair.

"remember whose house you're in sweetheart." he stated in a soft but poised voice. he gently grabbed your jaw, causing your stomach to do a flip before he slowly guided you back to the window by your face, forcing you to look.

"you see, they've been at it for about 10 minutes," he started, not looking away from you. "i think, oliver sees how damaged she is. and he can easily puppeteer poor sweet little ol' venetia into whatever he wants because he sees her. her damaged goods in this grand blessed home, like a fucking antithesis," he stands behind you as he speaks, he other hand leaning on the wall next to the two of you. you wish you had a mirror just to see what the position of you and him looked like. "the worst things are found with the best things. like a beggar on the street outside a luxury store."

you clenched your jaw at his words. farleigh felt it at his fingers, chuckling next to your ear. "if you get my gist, im saying you don't belong here." having enough, you abruptly turned around to face the tall brunette.

"i belong here just as much as you do, if anything, more than you." you assured. immediately you felt slight regret in your words as farleigh stepped closers forcing you to fall back on the bed. as you leaned back on your elbows while he leaned forward with the palms of his hands pushing into the mattress. he tilted his head to the side, wearing a mischievous grin.

"you don't know me then if you think you, a working class girl, belongs here, over me." your heart twitched, looking at the new position you two were in. the moonlight lit up his face. his long eyelashes caught your attention first, then his nicely shaped brows. your eyes quickly made the tour around his features, briefly thinking how pretty his teeth were. white and perfectly aligned.

"i know enough. i have seen enough social butterfly pretty boy pricks to spot one out." you challenged, not budging for dominance.

"oh so you think im pretty?" farleigh suddenly asked, eyebrows raising out of curiosity. you suddenly flushed a warm pink and he taking notice of this. he began to lean down slowly, making you hold your breath. your eyes fluttered closed, opening again quickly as he kissed your flushed cheek, doing the same on the other side of your face.

"if i didn't know any better, i'd say you like to argue with me, sweetheart." he theorized. the tone of his voice dropped and your core felt warm, yet you didn't know if it was from aggravation or arousal. you looked away from him, fingers beginning to fidget with the fabric of the duvet.

"you're annoying to even be in the same room with, farleigh " you muttered, half lying to yourself. if anything, it was rather suffocating to be near him. the air was thick between the two of you and you couldn't handle it

"oh? i thought my name was prick." farleigh's smile became more prominent. he slowly interlaced your legs with his, sliding his knee right in between your thighs. you sucked in a slow breath between your teeth. you didn't know what to do with yourself.

fuck this.

you grabbed his jaw and pulled his face into yours, stopping just so his lips could brush against yours.

"no farleigh," a smile of arousal appeared on farleighs lips now, tilting his head forward to capture your lips. but you back up just out of his reach, and continued to tease him as he tried to kiss you again every few seconds. "i will call you whatever i want, sweetheart. and you will come when called." you whispered right up against his lips. a breathy laugh escaped past his lips and the faint smell of cigarettes occupied your nose.

you finally allow him to smash his lips against yours. your stomach filled with butterflies as he groaned softly into your mouth. his hand snaked under your silk top, his fingers roughly caressing the skin of your lower back and waist. you gasped into his mouth at his touch, arching off the bed for his arm to fully wrap around you.

the two of you mutually pull away, panting lightly. farleigh slowly licked across his bottom lip as he grabbed your chin, taking his hand away from your waist to tilt your head up to his. he leaned in again, planting another kiss on tour cheek before whispering in your ear.

"get out."

you chuckled gently in response to his command. you knew he didn't want to end. but alas, you complied and slowly pushed him off of you. you two both stood in close vicinity, staring at each other.

"with pleasure." you responded, before grazing his chest as you walked away, exiting his room.

a/n: stay tuned for more ! ty ♡ .

© r4vn ²⁰²⁴ , do not repost my work.

[hometoursandotherstuff]

If any Victorian lovers wouldn't mind living on Main St. entering the historic district of Oxford, Alabama, this 1880 beauty is a bargain. 5bds, 3ba, $275K. It's worth every penny, too.

The kitchen looks pretty good, considering some others we've seen. This looks like an original pantry.

Double glass doors open to a middle hall separating the dining and living rooms. There are pocket doors to close off each room.

Lovely dining room has the table placement right in front of the fireplace. Usually, they're off to the side.

This home has so many original features. This door has a colored glass framed window and the wood in the hall was painted white, but I think that it makes it looks brighter - look at how dark the wood on the door is.

The door is very old and has the original doorbell.

The bedrooms have beautiful original fireplaces. And the doors, molding, etc., have not been painted.

The bath was modernized but still has most of the vintage elements, including the painted floor.

Cozy little sitting room.

This looks like the primary bedroom, and it's lovely.

The other bathroom has an original clawfoot tub.

Bedroom #3 is also lovely and has a pretty, white fireplace.

The bedrooms are all quite spacious and all have original fireplaces with beautiful fire screens.

The front porch has a lovely railing.

The wood on the exterior needs some attention, like scraping, repainting, and some repair.

Maybe some patching for the cement stairs.

There's a garage, and old barn and an outbuilding.

Lots of land, too- 2.22 acres.

[coal15]

I'm just getting started on a project that was decided on by poll results: a non-smut Bucktommy fic with Eddie as their bestest bestie. I have no idea when it will be finished, but here's a little taste:

By the time Buck and Tommy’s real estate agent showed them the place it still had the hardwood floors going for it, but some of the plumbing did need work, and a section of roof needed to be re-tiled. Then there was the exterior paint. A screaming bright purple with almost neon blue trim around the windows. Tommy wondered aloud if the current owner had ever done set design for Saved By The Bell. Put all those negative points together and what it added up to was a home selling for cheaper than it normally would, and lots of elbow room for negotiating. Still, even with a lower than usual price tag for the home’s desirable location (low crime, good school district, etc) it would have been out of their price range if not for Christopher and his ambitious ideas. 

A few months after Christopher turned fifteen, he made his first major life decision. He wanted to get into Oxford University’s biomedical research program after high school, and with Britain being so close to France and Spain he wanted to have enough money to go traveling in his free time. Flying back and forth for Christmas and parts of his summer wouldn’t be cheap either, of course, so he talked Buck into co-writing about their tsunami experiences and shopping it around town to see if anyone wanted to buy the rights. 

Obviously Buck knew it was one hell of a longshot, but he did it anyway for the sake of supporting his de-facto son. If nothing else, everyone in the family wanted to encourage Chris to dream big. Ten months later everyone became convinced their boy must have some special kind of magic, because a publishing company did buy the rights. The subsequent book was a modest success, but more importantly it led to Buck landing side gigs as a consultant for films and tv shows on a semi regular basis. The gigs never paid enough to buy them a life of luxury, but they did bring in enough to broaden their options for the future. 

So Buck and Tommy saved and saved and, like Christopher, dreamed big. They even got married at the courthouse to save on expenses, then took a long weekend out of town and called it a honeymoon. The universe rewarded them for their frugality by dropping a hideously painted, slightly neglected, two bedroom home right in their lap. That second bedroom was an absolute must because with the goal of home ownership crossed off their list, the next big one was adoption.

[outtheoiseaux]

The Blue Room

(An excerpt from a story)

Celine’s grandfather- along with the help of a young, spry and altogether cooky intern he hired fresh out of her masters degree at the Oxford school of Anthropology- manages to uncover a previously unknown storage room buried beneath the ashy ruins of Pompeii in the summer of Celine’s first year of middle school. Nicknamed the “blue room” for its cerulean wall paintings which feature profoundly vibrant frescoes of scantily clad female figures, The Blue Room is a true gem of history in that it is not only believed to have once served as a sacrarium- an ancient Roman room in which sacred artifacts would be stored for future use in rituals- it was also filled with stacks of hulking amphorae -massive vases used by slaves and artisans for artifact transportation- and sloping piles of discarded oyster shells which Celine’s Grandpa and his yellow-bellied intern believe to have been discarded by onsite workers who happened to have been using them in local renovations when the eruption occurred.

Much of this information Celine can readily skim from the crust of her mind solely because of the sheer amount of times she has heard the words repeated when her older cousin- an awkward and altogether bumbling seventeen year old boy from Cambridge who had been living with her and her grandfather for the last three or so years since his grandmother suddenly and tragically perished- would turn to her grandfather with his great, big, buggy black eyes prewet with wonder and stutter out yet another line of inquiry into the stoic old man’s exploits as an adventuring archeologist.

Grandpa Haber’s miraculous discovery of The Blue Room was of course the most miraculous in that it bolstered his reputation so thoroughly and impressively in his field that not even two years after the initial find, Celine found herself, her cousin and of course, her grandfather’s oddball of an intern-turned-assistant soaring across the globe from the quaint and sunny beaches of Punta Gorda in southwestern coastal Florida to the mild-climated, kitsch and colorful college town of Ann Arbor for his brand spanking new position as a professor with the University of Michigan.

“You know, it really does remind me of when my gran first got her position at Cambridge.” Joey whispers to her from behind the navy blue canvas veneer of Bernard Shaw’s Pygmalion. “It really is bloody wonderful for the ego to come from a family like this; I mean, if we’re both descended from professors in their respective fields, it’s probably safe to assume we might have inherited some of their hereditary IQ.” From her window seat, Celine watches fat, slimy clouds spin lazily below, growing larger and larger with perspective as the plane makes its descent. If her great aunt’s intelligence is hereditary, she thinks to herself privately, then she really does hope that the woman’s fatal heart issues aren’t.

Their new home, Celine learns as her grandfather moseys up the winding paths of a spacy suburban sprawl in the rental car, is located in a sleepy, lightly forested town in the residential garden hills of northern Ann Arbor. The house itself is a beautiful thing; a historic unit with delicately patterned Tiffany windows, a charming, oaken porch which cuts into the first floor and wraps around the front, thick, wooden beams, charmingly kitsch vintage furniture, art deco wallpaper, wrought iron window decorations, a series of increasingly aged light covers hanging from the center of the Victorian ceiling moldings and a tasteful exterior which has been (to Celine’s admitted delight) painted entirely in a warm, dusky purple. Celine decides to call it The Purple House.

“How in the world do you think Mister Haber managed to afford a beaut like this?” Joey, entirely bug-eyed, marvels at the rows of inlaid bookshelves that wrap the walls of what appears to have once been an office room but must have been transformed by the previous residents into their private library of collector’s editions. “I mean, he’s not hard-pressed for funds by any means but for heavens’ake, you don’t make this kind of money in his sort of research, and the man isn’t a socialite!”

“A socialite?” Celine wrinkles her nose. “Why would he need to be a socialite?”

“This is a socialite’s house.” Her cousin dutifully informs her. “The only thing you could think to do with a parlor this dreadfully impressive is to host equally impressive gatherings.”

She would never let the poor thing know it, but Celine sometimes thinks that her cousin enjoys needless frivolities with a suspiciously intense sort of vigor. So suspiciously intense, in fact, that she’s starting to suspect he would benefit more from finishing school than a university education. Out of the corner of her eye, the gold inlaid label of Antigone flashes from a handsome, red, hard-cover canvas binding.

“You wanna go check out the rooms?” She bites out through an oh-so-innocent grin. Best to distract him before he can get his hands on some old tome from the previous tenants' personal collection.

“That depends,” Joey throws his head back in a hearty guffaw and his unit of a fringe flops around in earnest, “on whether or not you’ve got the guts to race me for first dibs?”

The Purple House, Celine eventually learns, is actually called the Hallisbury House- or at least was upon its construction by a couple of Nouveau-Richie gilded age socialites years ago. All of this she gleans from a series of tastefully arranged picture frames hanging along the walls in such an order that, if one were to trail slowly down the halls and view each image in order, she would witness the building of the home, the renovations over the years and the process of the lives of the original owners. Morbidly, the last hanging image in the series- an exorbitantly decorated framed print hanging over the fireplace as a centerpiece to the already elaborate mantle- depicts an artistically framed black and white shot (clearly taken on a modern, digital camera) of the original owners’ gravestones. Whoever lived here last had, she thinks, a very strong sense of humor.

Beneath the photograph, on a gilded, silver plaque, an engraving reads:

A beautiful photograph from a beautiful Daughter.

Celine’s new room is on the second floor, directly above the kitchen, and is the only bedroom in the house with a window that faces out to the front yard and driveway. These three facts are perhaps the only ordinary thing about the place. Much like the house’s exterior, Celine’s new room is almost entirely made up of various tasteful shades of purple. There’s a lilac shag carpet and a stained-indigo oak closet and a painted-plum oak dresser and a violet bean bag and a mauve mattress and byzantium tasseled pillows and an eggplant duvet. Everything from the floor to the baseboards to the walls to the Victorian ceiling moldings is painted in the color, so much so that Celine begins to wonder if the visual fatigue will make her see yellow the second she steps out. Everything from the floor to the baseboards to the walls to the Victorian ceiling moldings is painted the color purple- everything, that is, except for the bright, blood red velvet curtains draped in theatrical arcs and ruffles over the ostentatiously gothy bedside window. The other rooms in the house are perfectly normal looking, if a little antique. She checked every last one of them, and this is the outlier.

“A beautiful room,” Celine giggles out to the empty room, “for a beautiful daughter.” She takes great care to adopt a disgustingly thick Oxford drawl when she says it, then she giggles even more because it makes her sound a little too much like her cousin who used to live there.

[ilikemenbutonlyethanramsey]

Book 1: Chapter two: Welcome to Boston

The train rumbled along in the early morning, its rhythmic hum filling the silence as Elle sat quietly by the window. She was engrossed in a medical journal, her eyes scanning the pages with focused intensity. Occasionally, she would glance up, her gaze flickering to the passing landscape of the new city she now called home. Her luggage sat beside her on the seat, a tangible reminder of the fresh start that lay ahead.

Despite her outward calm exterior, Elle couldn't help but feel a flutter of nerves in her chest. This was a new chapter, a chance to prove herself in a new environment. In Oxford, she had already won her reputation with her seniors, but here, everything was new.

Her eyes cautiously flickered up to the digital display on the train, indicating the next stop, her heart racing just a bit faster in anticipation. She couldn't afford to miss it; this was the beginning of her journey into the unknown, and she was determined not to let anything pass her by.

As the rising sun painted the sky with hues of gold and pink, its warm rays filtered through the train window, casting a soft glow on Elle's ginger hair. Each strand seemed to catch the light, glistening like strands of spun copper. Her freckled skin was kissed by the morning light, giving her a radiant glow as she sat immersed in her thoughts.

Her fingers nervously folded the corner of the page of her medical journal, a subconscious gesture betraying her inner restlessness. Despite her attempts to focus on the text before her, her mind kept wandering, dancing on the edges of anticipation and uncertainty.

To drown out the whirlwind of emotions, she had plugged in her headphones, the gentle strains of music filling her ears and providing a welcome distraction. The melodic tunes wrapped around her like a comforting embrace, temporarily easing the knots of tension that had settled in her chest. The soft strains of Otello filled Elle’s ears, transporting her back to her childhood. It was a piece of opera her mother had introduced her to, a source of comfort and familiarity in times of uncertainty. As the music swelled and soared, Elle felt a sense of reassurance wash over her, grounding her in the present moment.

With a gentle sigh, Elle gathered her belongings, preparing to disembark as the train came to a halt. The doors slid open with a quiet hiss, and she stepped out onto the platform, her eyes immediately drawn to the glow of her phone screen. She pulled up the directions to her new apartment, grateful for the guidance as she navigated the unfamiliar streets of Boston.

As she walked, the early morning air was crisp and invigorating, the city slowly waking up around her. Elle’s eyes flickered to the beauty of her surroundings, taking in the historic architecture, the bustling streets, and the promise of a new beginning with each step she took. With each passing moment, she found herself surrounded by the energy and vibrancy of the city, a sense of awe and wonder filling her heart as she embarked on this new chapter.

As Elle approached her new apartment building, her eyes wandered over the small structure, which seemed much grander in the photos she had seen. She had found the listing through friends on a social media platform, and now, standing at the door, she couldn't help but feel a twinge of uncertainty.

Cautiously, she knocked on the door, her eyes scanning the rustic interior of the building. The worn wooden floors and vintage decor gave the place a cozy charm, but Elle couldn't shake the feeling that something was off.

As the door creaked open, revealing an older man with dark eyes fixed on hers.

The older man stood in the doorway, his presence immediately evoking a sense of weariness. His shoulders were slumped, and his posture conveyed a life burdened by countless hardships. Deep lines etched his weathered face, particularly around his downturned mouth and the corners of his tired, gray eyes, which seemed to have lost their spark. His thinning, silver hair was disheveled, adding to his overall appearance of neglect.

Elle felt a slight pang of unease. His presence caught her off guard, and she stumbled over her words as she tried to introduce herself.

"You Rose?" the man interrupted, his tone brusque.

"Yes, it's a pleasure—" Elle began, but before she could finish, the man had already turned and walked inside, clearly expecting her to follow. With a sense of trepidation, Elle stepped into the apartment, her eyes darting around the unfamiliar space as she braced herself for whatever lay ahead.

The man led Elle into a small room tucked underneath a grand staircase, the space so cramped that Elle couldn't help but stifle a gasp of surprise. It was tiny, and by tiny, it was positively minuscule.

The room barely had enough space for a single bed, a small desk, and a narrow wardrobe squeezed against one wall. The low ceiling pressed down on them, adding to the claustrophobic atmosphere.

Elle's eyes widened as she took in the cramped quarters, her mind racing with questions and concerns. Was this really the apartment she had signed up for? Was there some mistake?

Before she could voice her thoughts, the man turned to her, his dark eyes boring into hers with an intensity that sent a shiver down her spine. "This is your room," he stated matter-of-factly, his tone brooking no argument.

Elle swallowed hard, her heart pounding in her chest as she struggled to find her voice. "I...I thought...," she began, but the man's stern expression silenced her, leaving her to wonder just what she had gotten herself into.

The man interrupted Elle once again, his voice firm and unwavering. "Rent's due every 6th of the month. Don't be late," he reiterated, his tone leaving no room for negotiation as he turned and walked away, leaving Elle stunned in silence.

Trying to ease the tension between them, Elle forced a smile and attempted a joke. "I didn't realize I had written my name as Harry Potter!" she quipped, hoping to lighten the mood with a touch of humor.

Her laughter echoed in the small room, but the man's stern expression remained unchanged, causing Elle to quickly reel in her amusement. With a silent sigh, she watched as he walked away, leaving her alone once more.

"Tough crowd," Elle murmured to herself, a wry smile tugging at the corners of her lips as she glanced around the cramped space. Despite the awkward encounter, she was determined to make the best of her new situation, steeling herself for the challenges that lay ahead.

With that, Elle nodded to herself, determined to shake off the lingering unease from her encounter with the man. "I should get ready, I’m already running late as it is. " she thought, her resolve firm as she began to unpack her suitcase.

Carefully, she removed her belongings, setting aside her scrubs that she had acquired during her time at Oxford. As she ran her fingers over the familiar fabric, a sense of familiarity washed over her, grounding her in the midst of uncertainty.

With steady hands, Elle changed into her scrubs, the crisp material providing a sense of professionalism and purpose. As she smoothed out the wrinkles, she felt a renewed sense of determination coursing through her veins.

With a sense of determination, Elle carefully tied her ginger locks into a tight ponytail, the strands falling neatly into place as she secured them with an elastic band. As she studied her reflection in the mirror, a small smile graced her lips. There was something reassuring about seeing herself dressed in her scrubs, a familiar uniform that had become a second skin during her years of training.

Her gaze lingered on the reflection before her, taking in the subtle changes that had come with the transition to this new chapter of her life. There was a sense of purpose in the way she held herself, a quiet confidence that belied the nerves bubbling beneath the surface.

Noticing the time ticking away, Elle's smile widened as she hurriedly gathered her belongings. She slung her bag over her shoulder, the weight a comforting presence as she made her way towards the door. Each step filled her with a sense of anticipation, the excitement of a new beginning coursing through her veins.

Stepping out into the crisp morning air, Elle took a moment to breathe deeply, the cool breeze invigorating her senses. With determination in her stride, she set off towards Edenbrook, her heart pounding with a mixture of nerves and excitement.

As she walked, the city streets buzzed with activity, the hustle and bustle of early morning commuters mingling with the sounds of distant traffic. Elle's senses were heightened, her eyes scanning the familiar landmarks with renewed curiosity. Every corner held the promise of a new adventure, a chance to make a difference in the lives of others.

With each passing moment, Elle felt a growing sense of confidence welling up inside her. This was her moment, her opportunity to shine. And as she approached the doors of Edenbrook Hospital, a surge of excitement coursed through her veins. She was ready to embrace whatever challenges and opportunities lay ahead, eager to make her mark in this new environment.

Elle's heart raced as she arrived at Edenbrook, the minutes ticking away almost too quickly. Her eyes widened in awe as she took in the sight of the massive, modern building towering before her. It was unlike any hospital she had ever seen back home, with its sleek architecture and state-of-the-art facilities.

The bustling energy of the hospital grounds was palpable, a stark contrast to the quiet streets she had just left behind. Doctors and nurses hurried past her, their white coats billowing behind them as they dashed from one task to the next.

As Elle stepped through the entrance, she couldn't help but feel a sense of wonder at the scale of it all. The lobby stretched out before her, filled with bustling activity and the hum of conversation. People rushed by in all directions, each one seemingly on a mission of their own.

Taking a deep breath to steady her nerves, Elle adjusted her bag on her shoulder and made her way further into the hospital. The sounds and sights of Edenbrook surrounded her, a whirlwind of activity that left her both exhilarated and slightly overwhelmed.

As Elle entered the bustling atrium, her eyes darted around, taking in the flurry of activity that surrounded her. Patients and doctors rushed past her, each one consumed by their own tasks and responsibilities. Mixed emotions hung in the air, a palpable tension that mirrored Elle's own feelings of excitement and apprehension.

"You look lost," a gentle voice spoke from behind her, causing Elle to turn around. Standing there was a woman not much older than herself, her dark, expressive eyes and flowing raven-black hair highlighted her striking features. She exuded a blend of elegance and intelligence, with a sharp mind evident in her confident demeanor. Despite her professional appearance, there was a warm, compassionate aura about her.

"Is it your first day?" the woman asked, her tone warm and welcoming.

Elle smiled gratefully, reassured by the kindness of the stranger. "Yes, I'm Elle Rose. I'm... quite lost, as I'm sure you can tell," she replied with a soft laugh, feeling the tension begin to ease in her shoulders.

"You're not the first intern today to get lost, and you won't be the last," the woman said with a chuckle, extending her hand in a gentle handshake. "I'm Dr. Ines Delarosa, a fellow attending here."

"Pleasure to meet you, Ines," Elle replied, returning the smile.

Ines nodded, her expression warm. "Everyone is in the main lobby, I believe the chief is giving a talk” she said, handing Elle her ID badge as she spoke, noticing Elle’s nervous expression, she smiles sympathetically. “These three years of residency will be the best and most brutally challenging years of your life”.

Elle's nerves tingled with anticipation as she accepted the badge. "Any advice for me?" she asked, her voice tinged with a hint of uncertainty.

Ines laughed gently, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "Well, make friends with the other interns," she advised. "Those are going to be the people that have your back this year. Oh, and... try not to annoy your attendings!"

Elle chuckled at the wisdom of Ines's words, feeling a sense of camaraderie already blossoming between them.

As Ines leaves, Elle hears a sharp gasp from the waiting room behind her. She looked over to find a woman who had collapsed out of her chair, unconscious. As Elle rushed to the collapsed woman's side, her heart raced with adrenaline. She quickly assessed the situation, noticing the absence of medical staff rushing to help. In that moment, she realized that, for once, she was the doctor in this situation.

"Everyone stand back! I'm a doctor!" Elle's voice rang out with authority, commanding the attention of those around her. With a sense of pride and determination, she pushed through the crowd, making her way to the unconscious woman's side.

Gently, Elle began to analyze the woman's condition, her hands steady despite the surge of adrenaline coursing through her veins. Just then, she heard fast footsteps approaching, and she looked up to find an older doctor, his piercing blue eyes fixed on her hands but more importantly on the woman lying on the floor. Elle froze slightly, for a brief moment, admiring the doctor before her. His gaze was also on Elle, perhaps for a moment too long, as though he was analysing her.

Acknowledging his presence, Elle retreated slightly, allowing the older doctor to assess the situation. But before she could fully step back, he addressed her with a brusqueness that took her aback.

"You, Rookie, get in here," the doctor commanded, his tone sharp and dismissive.

Elle bristled at his abrupt mannerisms, her eyes narrowing with indignation. Summoning her courage, she squared her shoulders and approached him, her expression stern.

"I have a name, you know," she retorted, her voice firm.

The doctor scoffed, his gaze like fire as he locked eyes with her. "You won't have a damn job if you don't get over here this instant," he snapped, his words cutting through the air with a sharpness that left Elle reeling.

He got away with it though, because unfortunately, he was a very good looking man.

With a deep breath, Elle steeled herself, refusing to let the doctor's harsh words shake her resolve. With determination in her heart, she followed him into the fray, ready to prove herself in the face of adversity.

The older doctor gently placed the woman on a nearby table, his expression tense with urgency as he turned to the nurse. "What was she coming in for? Did she fill out a form yet?" he asked, his voice tight with frustration.

The nurse grimaced in response. "No, she'd just walked in," he replied, his tone tinged with concern. The doctor's face grew even more serious, his frustration evident. "If we don't figure out what's wrong with her, fast, she's gonna die on this table!" he exclaimed, his eyes scanning the room for a solution.

Suddenly, his gaze landed on Elle, and his expression softened slightly. "You, Rookie, check her BP," he commanded, his tone still sharp with urgency.

Elle sprang into action, grabbing the blood pressure sleeve and swiftly wrapping it around the patient's arm. As she listened to the readings, her heart sank at the dangerously low numbers.

"It's plummeting. She's hypertensive. We've gotta get fluids in her—" Elle began, but her words were cut short as the nurse hurriedly inserted an IV.

As Elle worked, her eyes caught sight of a bruise rapidly forming on the patient's elbow, and she also noticed the telltale blueness of her fingertips.

"Dr., look at her fingertips! I think that's a sign of low blood oxygen saturation," Elle exclaimed, her voice urgent with concern.

The doctor turned to her, his gaze piercing. "You think? Or you know?" he challenged, his tone demanding certainty.

Elle met his gaze head-on, her own determination shining through. "I know," she affirmed, her voice steady and confident. In that moment, she knew she had to trust her instincts and act decisively to save the patient's life.

The doctor's keen observation about the rapidly forming bruise sent a jolt of surprise through Elle. She hadn't considered the possibility of hemophilia in the moment, but the doctor's stern expression left no room for doubt.

Taking a deep breath to steady her nerves, Elle focused on the task at hand. She quickly slipped her stethoscope into her ears and placed it against the patient's chest, listening intently for any signs of trouble.

"I can't hear anything on the left side! Her right side is struggling, she's going to suffocate—" Elle exclaimed, her voice trembling with urgency as she relayed her findings to the doctor.

Without missing a beat, the doctor turned to the nurse, his demeanor calmer now, but no less urgent. "Nurse, we have a code Blue," he announced, his voice steady and authoritative.

Elle's fingers shook with adrenaline as she looked to the doctor for guidance. "What do we do, Dr.? What's happening?" she asked, her voice filled with uncertainty.

The doctor's gaze met hers, his expression stern and cold. "Consider the clues, Rookie. You know this," he replied, his tone firm and commanding.

Without missing a beat, Elle's training kicked in, and she exclaimed with certainty, "It's a hemothorax!"

The doctor nodded in agreement, his expression grave. "Precisely. A blood vessel has ruptured, and now it's filling her pleural cavity," he confirmed, his voice filled with urgency. "We're going to have to do an emergency thoracotomy. Nurse!"

The nurse sprang into action, gathering the necessary supplies as the doctor and Elle prepared for the procedure. With each passing moment, the tension in the room mounted, but Elle remained focused, her mind sharp and her hands steady as she assisted the doctor.

As the nurse rushed over, Elle's heart raced with anticipation, her hands trembling slightly as she was handed a scalpel and a chest tube. She couldn't believe they were entrusting her with such a critical task, especially as a clearly well-experienced attending was opposite her.

"Me? But—" Elle began, her voice wavering with uncertainty, but the doctor's stern gaze silenced her protests.

"Now or never, Rookie. This patient's life relies on you!," the doctor stated firmly, his words echoing in Elle's mind as she tried to steady her nerves.

Elle took a deep breath, trying to push aside her doubts and focus on the task at hand. She recited the procedure in her mind, trying to remember every step, every detail. But despite her efforts, her fingers still trembled as she held the scalpel in her hand.

In that moment of hesitation, the older doctor reached out and gently took Elle's hand in his own. Their eyes met, and Elle found herself lost in the depths of his dark blue gaze. His touch was reassuring, grounding her in the midst of chaos.

"Hey... look at me," he said softly, his voice a soothing presence in the midst of turmoil.

Elle tore her gaze away from his eyes, her heart pounding in her chest as she focused on his face. She noticed every little detail about him—the way his hair fell in disarray, the stubble that dotted his jawline, the curve of his lips. In that brief moment, Elle noticed everything, even how his blue eyes had little green flecks within them.

“You can do this” his voice was gentle, cutting Elle from her gaze, reassuring her.

With steady hands, she made the incision between the woman's ribs, Elle and the doctor’s hands expertly inserting the chest tube to relieve the pressure on her lungs. And as the patient's breathing stabilized, Elle couldn't help but smile at the sight of her chest rising and falling with each breath.

But her moment of triumph was short-lived as she looked over at the doctor, expecting praise for her quick thinking and decisive actions. Instead, she was met with his stern expression, his demeanor cold and unyielding.

"Nurse, get this woman up to the ward," the doctor commanded, his tone brusque as he turned away without a second glance.

Elle followed closely behind him, her heart sinking at his harsh dismissal. "Doctor, that was absolutely amazing!" she exclaimed, hoping to elicit some semblance of approval from him.

But the doctor's response was far from what she had expected. His face remained stern as he turned to face her, his words cutting through her like a knife.

"It was pretty amazing that you didn't get her killed," he remarked, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

Elle recoiled at his words, her confidence wavering under the weight of his criticism. "What?" she began, but the doctor cut her off before she could protest.

"You took way too long for the incision. The incision itself was amateur at best," he continued, his voice devoid of any sympathy.

Elle's cheeks burned with indignation as she regained her composure. "It's my first day," she retorted, her tone defensive.

But the doctor's response was uncompromising. "There's no excuses," he stated firmly, his gaze unwavering.

Despite his harsh words, Elle refused to back down. With a gentle smile, she met his gaze head-on. "Maybe you can give me private lessons?" she suggested playfully, hoping to lighten the mood.

To her surprise, the doctor scoffed at her suggestion, smirking slightly while grabbing her lanyard with a sudden movement that caught her off guard, reading her name off of it. "In your dreams, Dr. …Rose, But I sincerely doubt you can afford my salary," he replied, his tone dripping with condescension as he threw Elle’s lanyard back to her chest.

As he walked away, leaving Elle standing there in stunned silence, she couldn't help but wonder what she had gotten herself into.

As Elle scoffed slightly to herself, she silently cursed the doctor's harsh demeanour, “What an asshole..” she stated, her voice stern with anger. In that moment , she heard a soft voice behind her, like a whisper in a daydream. Turning around, she noticed one of the nurses standing nearby, her expression filled with a mixture of excitement and adoration.

"Yeah... and I'm completely in love with him," the nurse confessed softly, her tone tinged with resignation.

Just then, the nurse who had assisted Elle earlier joined the conversation, offering a reassuring smile as he put a reassuring hand on Elle’s shoulder. "Don't worry, Dr. Ramsey's like that with everyone," he explained, his voice calm and soothing.

Elle's heart skipped a beat at the mention of that name—the name that had inspired her to pursue a career in medicine, the name she had revered and idolized for years.

"Did you just say... Dr. Ramsey?" Elle asked, her voice tinged with disbelief.

The male nurse chuckled at her reaction, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "I take it you're a fan?" he replied with a knowing smile.

Elle nodded eagerly, unable to contain her excitement. "He... he basically inspired me to go to med school…"

Before she could finish her sentence, the male nurse interrupted her with a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "Don't worry, you'll have plenty more moments to interact with him," he assured her, his words filling her with a renewed sense of hope and anticipation.

As Elle stood there, her mind racing with possibilities, she couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement at the prospect of getting to know the man who had played such a significant role in shaping her journey to becoming a doctor. And with that thought in mind, she couldn't wait to see what the future held in store.

[alicecharlotte]

Reviews: New 2024 Ford F250 Super Duty Pickup Truck

Super Duty models are the true workhorses of Ford's extensive pickup lineup, despite the fact that the full-size F-150 receives the most attention. 

The 2024 Ford F-250 is the entry-level Super Duty pickup and has recently undergone a complete redesign. We don't anticipate any significant changes to the 2024 model, as it was just redesigned from scratch in 2018.

This generation of the 2024 F250 offers two new engine options, reflecting the truck's emphasis on capability. A 6.8-liter V8 engine producing 400 horsepower and 445 lb-ft of torque is standard. 

Ford offers a 6.7-liter diesel V8 engine with 475 hp and 1,050 lb-ft of torque for customers with even more demanding requirements. Each engine is coupled to a 10-speed automatic transmission. 

The maximum towing capacity exceeds 20,000 pounds. Other job site amenities include a Pro Power Onboard generator and bed-mounted payload scales.

The Chevrolet Silverado 2500HD, the GMC Sierra 2500HD, and the Ram 2500 are competitors to the Ford F-250 Super Duty. With its modern design and more potent engine options, the Ford compares favorably to its competitors.

Redesign: A Modern and Fresh Appearance

The exterior of the 2024 Ford F250 has been redesigned to convey power and modernity. This truck's striking contours, muscular fenders, and prominent grille command attention on the road. 

The redesigned headlamps and taillights feature cutting-edge LED technology for enhanced visibility and a distinctive appearance. Ford has also prioritized aerodynamics to improve fuel economy while maintaining the truck's rugged appearance.

Renovated Interior: Innovation and Comfort

The refreshed interior of the 2024 Ford F250 combines comfort and cutting-edge technology. The cabin is refined, functional, and inviting due to the use of superior materials and skilled craftsmanship. The spacious seating provides adequate legroom, making even lengthy journeys comfortable. The redesigned dashboard features an intuitive infotainment system with the most recent connectivity options and an intuitive interface.

Unrivaled Engine Options for Power and Performance

The 2024 Ford F250 performs admirably when it comes to propulsion. Ford offers a variety of formidable engine options to accommodate various requirements. The base model is endowed with a powerful V8 engine that provides exceptional torque and towing capacity. 

The available turbocharged V8 engine offers exhilarating performance on and off the road for those seeking even more power. Ford's dedication to engineering excellence ensures that the 2024 F250 provides you with the necessary power when you need it.

Exterior Enhancements

The 2024 Ford F250's exterior enhancements are not merely aesthetic; they also improve functionality. Designed with versatility in mind, the truck bed features integrated storage compartments and tie-down points for securing cargo with simplicity. 

In addition, the available bed liner and tonneau cover provide additional protection and convenience. The redesigned tailgate features a step and a handhold, making it easy to access the bed even when carrying large loads.

Colors

The 2024 Ford F250 is available in a variety of colors to accommodate every preference. From traditional hues such as Oxford White and Shadow Black to daring hues such as Velocity Blue and Race Red, there is a color that will make an impression on the road. Ford's superior paint finishes ensure that your F250 will attract attention wherever it goes.

Price and Release Date

Ford recognizes the significance of affordability, and the 2024 F250 is competitively priced. Ford plans to offer a variety of specification levels and options to accommodate a variety of budgets, but the exact pricing information has yet to be revealed. The 2024 Ford F250 is anticipated to arrive in showrooms in the spring of 2024, giving vehicle enthusiasts something to look forward to.

Conclusion: The Ultimate Force

In conclusion, the 2024 Ford F250 is poised to be the segment's definitive powerhouse. Its redesign imparts a fresh and contemporary appearance, while its interior provides comfort and innovation. The variety of engine options ensures that there is a suitable powertrain for every need, and the exterior upgrades improve both form and function. 

The 2024 F250 will make a statement on and off the road with its array of distinctive colors and anticipated competitive pricing. In 2024, this remarkable truck will be available for purchase.

[vinylwindowsolutionsblog]

The Best Window Materials for Your Oxford Home

When it comes to choosing the right windows for your home in Oxford, one of the most important decisions you'll face is selecting the best window material. The material you choose for your windows can significantly affect not only the appearance and style of your home but also its energy efficiency, security, and overall maintenance requirements.

With Oxford’s varying climate—cold winters and warm summers—it’s crucial to choose window materials that offer durability, energy efficiency, and resistance to the elements. At Vinyl Window Solutions, we believe in helping homeowners make informed decisions. In this article, we’ll explore the best window materials available for your Oxford home, highlighting the benefits and drawbacks of each option so you can choose the best fit for your needs.

1. Vinyl Windows: A Modern and Low-Maintenance Choice

Vinyl windows are one of the most popular choices for homeowners in Oxford, and for good reason. These windows are made from durable polyvinyl chloride (PVC) material, which makes them resistant to a variety of weather conditions, including the cold temperatures that can occur during Oxford's winters.

Benefits of Vinyl Windows:

Energy Efficiency: Vinyl windows are known for their excellent insulation properties. They often feature multi-chambered frames, which help prevent heat loss during the winter and keep your home cooler in the summer. This translates to lower energy bills and better temperature control in your home.

Low Maintenance: Unlike wood windows, vinyl windows don’t require painting or staining. They are easy to clean and resistant to rotting, warping, or cracking over time, making them a low-maintenance option.

Durability: Vinyl windows are built to withstand harsh weather conditions. They are highly resistant to UV rays, moisture, and even extreme temperatures, which makes them a long-lasting choice for homes in Oxford.

Affordable: Compared to wood or fiberglass windows, vinyl windows are often more affordable, making them an excellent choice for homeowners looking for a budget-friendly window replacement in Oxford option.

While vinyl windows are highly durable, it’s important to choose high-quality options to ensure long-term performance. At Vinyl Window Solutions, we offer high-quality vinyl windows with energy-efficient features to suit your home’s needs.

Drawbacks:

Limited Customization: While vinyl windows come in a variety of styles and colors, they are less customizable than wood windows. The color options are also limited, as vinyl can only be manufactured in certain shades.

Less Curb Appeal: Although vinyl windows can look great, they may not have the same timeless aesthetic as wood windows, which some homeowners may prefer for their architectural appeal.

2. Wood Windows: Classic and Timeless Elegance

Wood windows are a traditional and elegant choice that can enhance the beauty and charm of your home. These windows are made from natural timber, such as pine, oak, or mahogany, and are often seen in historic homes or properties where curb appeal is a priority.

Benefits of Wood Windows:

Aesthetic Appeal: Wood windows offer a natural beauty and warmth that other materials can’t replicate. They can be painted or stained to match your home’s interior or exterior décor, making them a highly customizable option.

Energy Efficiency: Wood is a natural insulator, and wood windows can provide excellent energy efficiency, especially if they are properly sealed and feature double or triple glazing. This helps to keep your home warm during the winter and cool in the summer.

Curb Appeal and Resale Value: Wood windows are a premium option that can increase the overall value of your home. Their timeless beauty can significantly enhance your home’s curb appeal, making it more attractive to potential buyers.

Drawbacks:

High Maintenance: Wood windows require regular maintenance to prevent damage from moisture, pests, and rot. They need to be repainted or refinished every few years to maintain their appearance and functionality.

Cost: Wood windows tend to be more expensive than vinyl or aluminum options, both in terms of initial installation and long-term maintenance costs.

Vulnerability to Weather: In Oxford's climate, wood windows can be more vulnerable to weather damage, including warping or swelling due to exposure to moisture and humidity.

While wood windows are a beautiful choice, they do require a significant amount of upkeep and can be more costly than other materials. However, for homeowners seeking classic, timeless windows, wood remains a top choice.

3. Aluminum Windows: Sleek and Durable

Aluminum windows are another popular option that offers a modern, sleek appearance combined with durability. These windows are made from lightweight, yet strong, aluminum frames, making them a popular choice for contemporary homes or commercial properties.

Benefits of Aluminum Windows:

Durability: Aluminum is incredibly strong and durable, making it resistant to weathering, rust, and corrosion. This makes aluminum windows an excellent choice for homes in Oxford that experience high moisture levels or strong winds.

Slim Profile: Aluminum windows tend to have a slimmer frame than other materials, allowing for larger panes of glass and more natural light to enter your home. This can be an attractive feature if you want to maximize your home’s views.

Low Maintenance: Aluminum windows require minimal maintenance. They do not need to be painted or stained, and they are resistant to rot or decay.

Drawbacks:

Poor Insulation: Aluminum is a poor insulator compared to vinyl or wood. Without a thermal break or insulated frames, aluminum windows can allow more heat transfer, making them less energy-efficient.

Condensation Issues: Because aluminum conducts heat and cold more easily, you may experience condensation on the inside of the window during cold weather, which can lead to water damage and mold growth.

Less Aesthetic Variety: While aluminum windows come in various finishes, they may not have the same aesthetic variety and warmth as wood windows.

While aluminum windows offer a sleek look and excellent durability, they are not as energy-efficient as other materials, which may be a concern in Oxford's climate.

4. Fiberglass Windows: Strong and Energy-Efficient

Fiberglass windows are a newer option that has gained popularity due to their strength, energy efficiency, and low-maintenance requirements. Made from a combination of glass fibers and resin, fiberglass windows are known for their durability and long lifespan.

Benefits of Fiberglass Windows:

Superior Energy Efficiency: Fiberglass windows offer excellent insulation, helping to maintain a comfortable temperature in your home year-round. They are less prone to expansion and contraction due to temperature changes, which helps maintain airtight seals.

Strength and Durability: Fiberglass windows are extremely strong and resistant to damage from weather, UV rays, and impact. They are also resistant to rot, warping, and cracking, making them a durable option for homes in Oxford.

Low Maintenance: Fiberglass windows require little maintenance. They are not prone to warping or swelling like wood windows, and they don’t need to be painted or stained like other materials.

Drawbacks:

Cost: Fiberglass windows tend to be more expensive than vinyl or aluminum options, both in terms of upfront costs and installation.

Limited Customization: While fiberglass windows come in a variety of colors and styles, they are not as customizable as wood windows when it comes to finishing or design.

Fiberglass windows offer a perfect balance of durability, energy efficiency, and low-maintenance care, making them an excellent choice for many Oxford homeowners who want the benefits of both strength and energy savings.

5. Composite Windows: The Best of Both Worlds

Composite windows are made from a blend of materials, typically combining wood fibers with a resin or other synthetic material. This creates a window that combines the strength and beauty of wood with the low-maintenance features of vinyl or fiberglass.

Benefits of Composite Windows:

Durability and Strength: Composite windows are resistant to warping, rotting, and fading, providing long-term durability. They offer a good balance between the strength of wood and the low-maintenance qualities of vinyl.

Energy Efficiency: Like vinyl and fiberglass, composite windows offer excellent insulation, helping to keep your home comfortable and energy-efficient.

Aesthetic Appeal: Composite windows can be designed to mimic the look of wood, offering the classic appeal without the high maintenance.

Drawbacks:

Cost: Composite windows tend to be more expensive than vinyl or aluminum windows, although they are often more affordable than wood or fiberglass.

Limited Availability: Composite windows are less common than other window materials, and they may not be as widely available in some areas.

Composite windows offer an excellent option for homeowners looking for a durable, energy-efficient window with the appearance of wood, but without the associated maintenance.

Conclusion

Choosing the best window material for your Oxford home is an important decision that impacts the energy efficiency, durability, and aesthetics of your home. Whether you prefer the low-maintenance, energy-efficient features of vinyl windows, the classic beauty of wood, the strength of fiberglass, or the sleek design of aluminum, there is a window material to suit every home and budget.

At Vinyl Window Solutions, we specialize in providing high-quality vinyl windows that are designed to meet the needs of Oxford homeowners. If you’re looking for energy-efficient, low-maintenance, and durable windows, our vinyl window solutions are the perfect choice. Contact us today to learn more about how we can help you find the best window materials for your home!

[10siglosdehistoria]

The Alewife

Image: Mother Louse, a well-known Oxford alewife in the 17th century. /Mother Louse, una conocida cocinera de cerveza de Oxford en el siglo XVII.

(English / Español / Italiano)

The term 𝗔𝗟𝗘𝗪𝗜𝗙𝗘𝗦 appeared in medieval English texts from 1393 onwards and referred to all women who brewed beer for domestic or commercial use, an activity carried out in the home and passed down from generation to generation. With the arrival of the Black Death between 1347 and 1350, beer consumption increased because the boiled water from which it was brewed destroyed bacteria, making it the only drinkable beverage. By brewing it, it became profitable for the women who had learned the trade.

In the popular culture of the time, the Alewife was depicted in front of a cauldron of boiling water to which she added wheat, which she kept away from mice with many cats.

When he brewed a lot of beer, he would mark it by placing a broom outside his house or go to the market to sell it wearing a dark dress common among Protestants and the henin - a pointy hat very fashionable at the time - dyed black to stand out from the crowd.

In the 16th century, the Church began to no longer tolerate women who subverted the natural patriarchal order by brewing beer, and the arrival of the plague, associated with the idea of hell as divine punishment, began to obsess the Church. Hence, in commissioned paintings, priests urged artists to include brewers, who were no longer seen as businesswomen, but as immoral people, stimulating sexual appetites with alcohol, dirty and ambiguous in agreement with the devil.

In The Tunning of Elynour Rummyng, a long misogynistic and defamatory poem by the English poet-priest John Skelton, probably written in 1517, we read a portrait of the brewer Elynour Rummyng. Elynour is described "to the smallest detail as a grotesquely ugly woman: her face is bristling with hair; her lips drool "like a whirling rain"; her crooked, hooked nose drips constantly; her skin is lax, her back is hunched, her eyes misty, her hair grey, her joints swollen, her skin greasy. She is, of course, old and fat. She is also religiously suspect, accepts rosaries as payment for beer, swears blasphemies, learns the secrets of beer from a Jew, 'looks like a witch' and dresses on holidays 'like a Saracen' and 'like an Egyptian''. At one point, the author writes that 'the devil and she are brothers'. The poem, written to cheer the English court, was praised by literary critics for its "descriptive power" and because it was considered a satire against alcohol and drunkenness. Despite numerous reprints, the Alewifes did not lose its clientele. (1)

It goes without saying that this was especially true of the women who cured with herbs, spices and plants, who were also depicted with a deformed face, a tall hat, dressed in black, cats and a cauldron.

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El término 𝗔𝗟𝗘𝗪𝗜𝗙𝗘𝗦 apareció en textos medievales ingleses a partir de 1393 y se refería a todas aquellas mujeres que elaboraban cerveza para uso doméstico o comercial, actividad que se llevaba a cabo en el hogar y se transmitía de generación en generación. Con la llegada de la peste negra, entre 1347 y 1350, el consumo de cerveza aumentó porque el agua hervida con la que se elaboraba destruía las bacterias, convirtiéndola en la única bebida potable. Al elaborarla, se hizo rentable para las mujeres que habían aprendido el oficio.

En la cultura popular de la época, se representaba a la Alewife delante de un caldero de agua hirviendo al que añadía trigo que mantenía alejado de los ratones con muchos gatos.

Cuando elaboraba mucha cerveza, lo señalaba colocando una escoba en el exterior de su casa o acudía al mercado a venderla con un vestido oscuro muy común entre los protestantes y el henin -un sombrero puntiagudo muy de moda en la época- teñido de negro para destacar entre la multitud.

En el siglo XVI, la Iglesia empezó a no tolerar más a las mujeres que subvertían el orden patriarcal natural fabricando cerveza, y la llegada de la peste, asociada a la idea del infierno como castigo divino, empezó a obsesionar a la Iglesia. De ahí que, en los cuadros encargados, los sacerdotes instaran a los artistas a incluir a las cerveceras, que ya no eran vistas como mujeres de negocios, sino como personas inmorales, que estimulaban los apetitos sexuales con el alcohol, sucias y ambiguas de acuerdo con el diablo.

En The Tunning of Elynour Rummyng, un largo poema misógino y difamatorio del poeta-sacerdote inglés John Skelton, escrito probablemente en 1517, leemos un retrato de la cervecera Elynour Rummyng. Elynour es descrita «hasta el más mínimo detalle como una mujer grotescamente fea: su rostro está erizado de vello; sus labios babean “como una lluvia que gira”; su nariz torcida y ganchuda gotea constantemente; su piel es laxa, su espalda está encorvada, sus ojos empañados, su pelo gris, sus articulaciones hinchadas, su piel grasienta. Es, por supuesto, vieja y gorda. También es sospechosa desde el punto de vista religioso, acepta rosarios como pago por la cerveza, jura blasfemias, aprende los secretos de la cerveza de un judío, «parece una bruja» y se viste en los días festivos «como una sarracena» y «como una egipcia»'. En un momento dado, el autor escribe que «el diablo y ella son hermanos». El poema, escrito para alegrar a la corte inglesa, fue alabado por la crítica literaria por su «poder descriptivo» y porque se consideraba una sátira contra el alcohol y la embriaguez. A pesar de las numerosas reimpresiones, las alewifes no perdieron clientela. (1)

No hace falta señalar lo que ocurría especialmente con las mujeres que curaban con hierbas, especias y plantas, a las que también se representaba deformadas de la cara, con un sombrero alto, vestidas de negro, gatos y un caldero.

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Il termine 𝗔𝗟𝗘𝗪𝗜𝗙𝗘𝗦 compare nei testi medievali inglesi a partire dal 1393 e indicava tutte quelle donne che producevano birra per uso domestico o commerciale, attività svolta in casa e tramandata da generazioni di donne. Con l’arrivo della Peste Nera, tra il 1347 e il 1350, Il consumo di birra aumentò perché, l’acqua bollita con la quale veniva realizzata , distruggeva i batteri rendendola l’unica bevanda potabile. Produrla, diventò redditizia per le donne che avevano imparato il mestiere.

Nella cultura popolare dell’epoca, la Alewife veniva rappresentata davanti ad un calderone di acqua bollente nel quale aggiungeva il grano tenuto lontano dai topi con molti gatti.

Quando produceva tanta birra, lo segnalava mettendo una scopa fuori della sua casa oppure andava al mercato per venderla indossando un abito scuro molto comune tra i protestanti e l’henin — un cappello a punta molto in voga all’epoca— tinto di nero per distinguersi tra la folla.

Nel XVI secolo la chiesa iniziò a non tollerare più quelle donne che stavano sovvertendo l’ordine patriarcale naturale con la produzione della birra e l’avvento della pestilenza, associata all’idea dell’inferno come punizione divina, iniziò ad ossessionare la chiesa. Ecco che, nei dipinti commissionati, i sacerdoti esortarono gli artisti ad inserire anche le birraie viste non più come imprenditrici bensì come persone immorali, che con l’alcool stimolavano gli appetiti sessuali, sporche e ambigue in accordo con il diavolo.

Nel The Tunning of Elynour Rummyng, lungo poema misogino e diffamatorio del poeta-sacerdote inglese John Skelton, scritto probabilmente nel 1517, leggiamo il ritratto della alewife Elynour Rummyng. Elynour viene descritta « nei minimi dettagli come una donna grottescamente brutta: il suo viso è irto di peli; le sue labbra sbavano "come una pioggia filante"; il suo naso storto e adunco gocciola costantemente; la pelle è lassa, la sua schiena è piegata, i suoi occhi sono appannati, i suoi capelli sono grigi, le sue articolazioni gonfie, la sua pelle è unta. È, ovviamente, vecchia e grassa. È anche religiosamente sospetta, accetta rosari come pagamento per la birra, impreca in modo blasfemo, apprende i segreti della birra da un ebreo, "sembra essere una strega" e si veste nei giorni sacri "come un saraceno" e "come un'egiziana"». L’autore, ad un certo punto, scrive che «il diavolo e lei sono fratelli». Il poema, redatto per rallegrare la corte inglese, venne lodato dai critici letterari per la “potenza descrittiva” e perché considerato una satira nei confronti dell’alcol e dell’ubriachezza. Nonostante le numerose ristampe, le alewifes non persero clienti (1).

Inutile sottolineare quello che accadde soprattutto alle donne che guarivano con erbe, spezie e piante, anche loro rappresentate deformi nel viso, con un cappello alto, vestite di nero, gatti e un calderone.

(1) Bennett J. M. Ale, Beer and Brewsters in England: Women's Work in a Changing World, 1300–1600, Oxford University Press, 1996.

Source: Donne nel tempo

[shoremobilepowerwash]

Oxford Power Washing: 6 Common Mistakes Homeowners Make

Power washing is among the most efficient methods of keeping the exterior of your home clean and properly maintained. However, where it may sound easy, most homeowners make various mistakes when power washing their homes. These mistakes may result to damages, inefficiency, and sometimes a compromise on safety. Therefore, it is possible to avoid common dangers and guarantee that your house will be cleaned professionally. Welcome back to the blog. This blog post is designed to address six errors that homeowners tend to make when power washing, along with their respective solutions.

1. Using Too Much Pressure

One of the common mistakes that people make is applying too much pressure. It might seem logical that applying more pressure will help clean the surface better, but it will not and, in fact, will harm the surface greatly. Pressure builds up and removes paint, damages sidings and even shatters windows. The cleaning pressure that is used should also be the right one since when cleaning delicate surfaces; one should be very careful. This is a task that is best left in the hands of the homeowners in Oxford since some know how to vary the pressure depending on the surface. With Power Washing Services Oxford, you can be certain your home will be cleaned to the highest standards with no destruction.

2. Ignoring Safety Precautions

One thing that should not be done is the failure to wear protective gear like goggles and gloves. Water pressure is powerful enough to cause intense harm, and the solutions used to wash items may be destructive when coming into contact with the skin or face. Moreover, power washing while on a ladder is a calamity waiting to happen, especially when the force of the water spray may push you off the ladder. Thus, if you want to have the work done safely and avoid any danger to yourself or your property, you should contact Power Washing Services Talbot County.

3. Not Prepping the Surface

The correct preparation should be done before the power washing is commenced on the surface that is to be treated. Failure to do so is a mistake that most people make, leading to poor cleaning results. Floors and walls should be cleaned of dirt and dust, and where there is paint chalking, it should be cleaned off. This enables the power washer to work better and do the cleaning in a faster way and with fewer passes. Power Washing Services Oxford, provided by professionals, understands that the preparation of their surfaces for washing is critical.

4. Using the Wrong Detergent

Another common error that one can make is using the wrong detergent or even having no detergent at all when power washing. Every surface should be cleaned with a different cleaning agent while using an improper cleaning agent will damage the surface or cause it not to be cleaned at all. For instance, the kind of wash recommended for wooden houses is different from that used in houses made of concrete or those with vinyl sidings. As you choose Power Washing Services St. Michaels, the professionals will analyze the appropriate cleaners to use which are relevant to the cleaning of your home.

5. Power Washing in the Wrong Weather

In power washing, the weather factor is very crucial, and surprisingly, many homeowners pay no attention to it. The utilization of power washing when the sun is scorching hot will make the water dry up and leave streaks and spots. On the other hand, if the intention is to clean the compound, then cold weather will make water to freeze on the compound, that will make the cleaning process to be cumbersome and a risky affair. It is recommended that it is done on a mild overcast day, preferably in the morning. Scheduling with Power Washing Services Oxford, ensures that you do not power wash at the wrong time when the weather is unfriendly.

6. Overlooking Certain Areas

Last but not least, a number of homeowners are selective with the areas of their home that are easy to clean and ignore those areas that are concealed. This can be under the fascia of roofs, under the eave, below the gutters, or behind the downspouts. Such areas are likely to develop molds and mildew which if not washed, can cause long-term effects on the surfaces. Qualified workers from Power Washing Services Trappe can wash every part of your home, not just the usual cleaned areas.

Conclusion

Power washing your home is a wonderful way to keep your home looking perfect and adding value, so long as it is done properly. The following are common mistakes that should be averted in order not to incur a lot of expenses in repairing the house: For homeowners in Oxford and surrounding regions, hiring professional Power Washing Services Oxford can help bring out the best in your home by using competent services that will make your home come to life.

[marketsndata]

Global Ground Calcium Carbonate Market Size, Share and Forecast 2031

Global Ground Calcium Carbonate Market size was valued at USD 15.8 billion in 2022 which is expected to reach USD 24.81 billion in 2030 with a CAGR of 5.8% for the forecast period between 2023 and 2030. Ground calcium carbonate (GCC), also known as limestone, is a common sedimentary rock which primarily comprises calcium carbonate minerals where the sedimentary rocks available on the earth’s surface contribute to around 10% of limestone. A versatile, efficient material with extensive applications in flooring, paints, plastics, asphalt roofing, paper and agriculture. Certain expensive raw materials are substantially replaced by GCC which is often used to enhance durability and is considered an ideal extender or filler with low absorption qualities. Commercial grades of ground calcium carbonate have been developed for multiple applications such as animal and pet feeds, adhesives and sealants, paints and surface coatings, rubber, and elastomers, etc. The concrete’s durability, appearance, and mechanical strength can substantially improve by adding ground calcium carbonate without altering the physical and mechanical properties.

Sample report- https://www.marketsandata.com/industry-reports/ground-calcium-carbonate-market/sample-request

Real Estate Construction Empowering Ground Calcium Carbonate (GCC) 

Mechanical and durable properties of concrete used for building massive infrastructure can significantly control the strength of such constructions. Roller-compared concrete (RCC) has been extensively used due to its prominent benefits like high-density construction technology, low application cost, and reduced cement contents. Ground calcium carbonate (GCC) is successively used as a cement replacement material in concrete to improve RCC’s strength and cohesiveness characteristics. In addition to such improvement, GCC in RCC design can limit the negative effect of bleeding and shrinkage mechanisms.

Data published by Oxford Economics reported that in 2022, the construction market investment was around USD 9.7 trillion, where the major contribution accounts from the United States, China, and India. A report estimated by Global Powers of Construction (GPoC) stated that in 2022, the top 100 companies involved in construction generated revenues of over USD 1.511 trillion. The tremendous rise of real estate and construction sector has generated impeccable market opportunities for ground calcium carbonate (GCC) globally to expand phenomenally.

Augmentation of Paints and Coatings Applications by Utilizing Benefits of GCC

Numerous properties of ground calcium carbonate (GCC) incorporate it as a significant additive in paints and coatings to densify the product. GCC is used as an extender for metal oxides, impart characteristics to either reduce or enhance gloss and most importantly as a rheological modifier. GCC is broadly employed as a bright, inexpensive extender while controlling the rheology of paint formulations. GCC is prominently used throughout the range of water- and solvent-based coatings for exterior and interior coating applications. GCC in painted films formulation are potentially active that able to meet every requirement with impeccable adhesion, high impact resistance, suitable hardness, excellent opacity, matt visual gloss, etc.

A report published by Paints & Coatings Industry reported that in March 2022, the decorative business for Asian Paints accounted for around 84.2% of revenue while a 9% share contributed from international business. In spring 2022, PPG has announced the commencement of new architectural paint and coatings color automation laboratory in Milan, Italy by sanctioning an investment of around USD 2.1 million that substantially will enhance the developing novel paint formulations within a short time.

Animal Feed and Nutrition is Progressively Improved by Incorporating GCC

An indispensable requirement is growing to achieve optimal health for farm animals which subsequently demands significant calcium content in the feed. Ground calcium carbonate (GCC) utilized as a prominent compound in animal feed that increases the calcium content for proper nerve function, bone development that led to produce nutritional milk and eggs. Particle size, purity, and brightness are important parameters for selecting GCC according to animal feed and nutrition. Veterinary professionals widely recommend that all livestock should be fed with specific calcium supplements to support healthy animal nutrition.

The Good Food Institute report states that in 2021 fermentation companies raised around USD 1.69 billion that focuses on alternative protein sector. In 2021, BASF SE successfully expanded Vitamin A plant in Germany to provide effective vitamin A formulati­­­on in animal nutrition. For 2023 global pork exports has estimated to increase to 10.8 million tons as the United States and Brazil became an extreme source of shipments. In 2023 global chicken meat production increases up to 103.5 million tons majorly shared by the United States.

Download Free Sample Report

Impact of COVID-19

The outbreak of COVID-19 has severe devastating affect that make entire humankind vulnerable to infectious disease. Different sectors were economically impacted, leading to supply chain disruptions, shutdown of ongoing constructions due to labor force reduction, etc. The imposition of several stringent regulations including entire lockdown affected the rising of ground calcium carbonate (GCC) market. The major sector utilizing GCC is the construction industry that has instantly halted with the spreading of COVID-19 virus. The paints and coating industries involving GCC were also severely impacted as there were reduced number of usual home décor applications. With the decreasing number of COVID-19 cases the government comes up with effective solution to ease the lockdown conditions. To encounter the destruction created by the pandemic companies started to put enormous efforts to restart the usual operations which soon created huge market opportunities for the ground calcium carbonate.

Impact of Russia-Ukraine War 

The invasion of Russia on Ukraine has led to unprecedented impact on various sectors subsequently led to deterioration of global economy including agriculture. The real estate and construction business was severely troubled due to the aggression that led to shut down of significant construction because unavailability of capital. The imperative factors consequently deteriorated the applications of ground calcium carbonate in different sectors. The measures adopted by significant government agencies to overcome the disaster of aggression and retain the economic instability.

Report Scope

“Ground Calcium Carbonate Market Assessment, Opportunities and Forecast, 2016-2030F”, is a comprehensive report by Markets and data, providing in-depth analysis and qualitative & quantitative assessment of the current state of the Ground Calcium Carbonate Market, industry dynamics and challenges. The report includes market size, segmental shares, growth trends, COVID-19 and Russia-Ukraine war impact, opportunities and forecast between 2023 and 2030. Additionally, the report profiles the leading players in the industry mentioning their respective market share, business model, competitive intelligence, etc.

Click here for full report- https://www.marketsandata.com/industry-reports/ground-calcium-carbonate-market

Contact

Mr. Vivek Gupta 5741 Cleveland street, Suite 120, VA beach, VA, USA 23462 Tel: +1 (757) 343–3258 Email: info@marketsandata.com Website: https://www.marketsandata.com

[zoevelthuysenart]

Anish Kapoor

Lisson Gallery, London, 14 September – 30 October 2021

For his latest exhibition, Anish Kapoor presents a new series of paintings, an element of his practice that has rarely been seen, exploring the intimate and ritualistic nature of his work. Created over the past year, the show provides a poetic view of the artist's recent preoccupations. While painting has always been an integral part of Kapoor’s practice, this radical new body of work is both spiritual and ecstatic, showing Kapoor working in more vivid and urgent form than ever. Alongside this exhibition, a solo show dedicated to Kapoor's paintings will run at Modern Art Oxford from 2 October 2021 - 13 February 2022, and both shows precede Kapoor’s major retrospective at Gallerie dell'Accademia di Venezia, opening April 2022 to coincide with the Venice Biennale.

Through painting, Kapoor delves into the deep inner world of our mind and body, from the physical exploration of the flesh and blood, to investigating psychological concepts as primal and nameless as origin and obliteration. Since the 1980s, Kapoor has been celebrated largely as a sculptor, yet painting, and its rawest composition, colour and form, have been a fundamental element of his practice­. The presentation will feature a selection of new and recent paintings, created between 2019 and 2021, the majority in the artist’s London-based studio during the pandemic. Like the artist’s wider oeuvre, these paintings are rooted in a drive to grasp the unknown, to awaken consciousness and experiment with the phenomenology of space.

Kapoor’s work has been characterized by an intense encounter with colour and matter – manifest either through refined, reflective surfaces such as metal or mirrors, or through the tactile, sensual quality of the blankets of impasto. The magnetism of the colour red is evident in these new paintings, manifesting the elemental force that flows through us all, yet now accompanied by a new palette of telluric greys and yellows, as if witnessing a surge from the depths of the earth. Some works appear volcanic, with an intense, fiery energy, while others are more primitive and abstract, with layers of dense pigment and resin forming a sculpted solidity. Many of the paintings have a visceral outpouring where a canvas within a canvas rotates and evolves in space, seeming to defy gravity, with brushstrokes cascading over the edges like a waterfall. In others we see distorted, polymorphic figures emerging from a deep, radiant void, with a ghostly aura.

Kapoor achieves a coherence of mind and body, of interior and exterior in two of the series of works, illustrating a mythic landscape with a turbulent, ominous atmosphere that differentiates land from sky, body from space. These whirling landscapes evoke the extraordinary, eerie Romanticism of JMW Turner, a worship of nature marked through an expressive, dramatic scene. Similar in disposition are two works where we imagine the moon rising over the peak – a symbolic narrative of a new cycle, of origins and menstruation.

The wall-based paintings recall some of Kapoor’s most ambitious, distinguished works, including Svayambhu (2007), My Red Homeland (2003) and Symphony for a Beloved Sun (2013). In these floor-based works we see a more ritualistic, visceral language, where Kapoor unashamedly delves into depicting the very blood and flesh from which we are all born. Artists from Leonardo di Vinci to Francis Bacon have been fascinated with the innards of the body, be it our anatomy or the surrealist beauty in violence. The work also stands in a powerful tradition of artists exploring the human body’s expression of divine matters, yet through the unique vision of Kapoor’s Eastern and Western influences, and ­­­– considering the year in which they were created ­­– taking on new meaning highlighting the fragility of the body and self.

[itcars]

Ford GT Holman Moody Edition to be Revealed in NYC

In a special nod to the debut of the original Ford GT40 prototype at the 1964 New York Auto Show, Ford is returning to the Big Apple for the first public appearance of its new GT Heritage Edition – the 2022 Ford GT Holman Moody Edition. Livery features exclusive Holman Moody Gold exterior paint, contemporary touches of exposed carbon fiber, plus signature Heritage Red and Oxford White accents; first customer deliveries begin this spring.

The 2022 New York Auto Show will open its doors to the public April 15-24 (press days: April 13 &14) at the fully-expanded Jacob K. Javits Convention Center in Manhattan, to kick-start the springtime automotive selling season.

The ultra-limited-production GT Holman Moody Edition supercar will be on display at the 2022 New York International Auto Show side-by-side with the podium-placing Holman Moody Ford GT40 MK II, chassis No. P/1016.

[jaybear1701]

The Outpost is, without a shred of doubt, a shithole.

And Ellen Waverly secretly loves it, even though her fellow ASCANs frown at the tavern’s dilapidated exterior. Anybody who’s anybody knows about the dive bar frequented by astronauts, engineers, and other NASA staffers. Spoken about with hushed reverence, the Outpost is hallowed ground, a right of passage, and a frisson of excitement courses through Ellen as they pause just outside its entrance.  

“This is it?” Dani Poole eyes the peeling red paint of the watering hole’s sign, uncertainty lacing her voice as she clutches the strap of her purse.

“Yep.” Molly Cobb lights a cigarette dangling from the corner of her lips. She pulls the door open, hinges squeaking, and the odor of cheap beer and stale smoke wafts out. “You gonna stand out here gaping all night?” Molly strides in without waiting for a response. Patty Doyle’s right on her heels, as usual. 

Neither bothers to check if the others are following, but Tracy Stevens manages to catch the door before it swings shut again. “Let’s go, ladies.” She ushers the others inside. “Can’t let Cobb and Doyle have all the fun.”

The stench, now mingled with sweat and other odors barely concealed by fading cologne,  intensifies the second Ellen sets foot inside the dimly lit bar. She wrinkles her nose and, as her eyes adjust, they walk past a beat up cigarette machine into a tightly packed space where all eyes immediately fall on them. Ellen thinks she recognizes some of the men from around the halls of JSC, but in all honesty they blended together in a uniform mass of white oxfords, skinny black ties, and thinly veiled disapproval. They were all just waiting for them to fail.

“Same shit, different toilet,” Molly mutters under her breath. Still, she throws her head back high, cocksure, and swaggers toward a pool table with Patty. Her heavy boot steps draw even more attention, not that Molly pays it any mind, acting as if she’s frequented The Outpost all her life. Like she belongs there.

Ellen does her best to follow Molly’s cue, straightening her spine and making her way around a jukebox that’s seen better days to the last empty table. “First round’s on me,” she announces, surprising even herself. 

“That’s mighty generous,” Dani says as she and the others take their seats. The legs of their chairs scrape across the slightly sticky wood floor. They all pretend they don’t see the little brown insects that scatter from beneath the table.

“What would you like?” Ellen asks before any of them decide to hightail it outta there. 

“Round of JD,” Tracy responds. “Least that’s what Gordo has when he’s here. If that’s all right with y’all, of course,” she adds to murmurs of assent.

“Coming right up.” Ellen beelines for the bar, continuing to ignore the stares from around the room that make the tips of her ears burn despite her carefully curated air of indifference.

She manages to find a small opening between the occupied, but is disappointed when no one’s there to serve drinks. The bartender probably took a quick break, she thinks, focusing her attention on the black-and-white astronaut photos that line the wood-paneled walls. Idly drumming her fingers against distressed mahogany, she wonders if her picture would ever be prominently displayed alongside the likes of Armstrong, Glenn, and Aldrin. Of if she’ll wash out, as her mother seems to be expecting.

An unsubtle cough interrupts Ellen’s musings, and a man leans an elbow on the bar to her left, a little too close for comfort. 

“What’s a pretty thing like you doin’ in a place like this?” He slurs out the oh-so-creative pickup line, alcohol sharp on his breath.

It takes all of her willpower not to roll her eyes in disgust. Instead, she pretends not to hear him, but he persists. “Never seen ya before. Y’all tourists or somethin’? Sightseein’?”

Irritation spikes in Ellen, who has half a mind to correct him, nondisclosure agreements be damned, when another voice cuts in. “Jimbo, what’d I tell you about scaring new customers?”

Ellen turns her head to the right and… Oh.

She’s not quite sure what she expected when it came to The Outpost’s barkeep. Based on the decor, she wouldn’t have been surprised by someone schlubby and indifferent and borderline antisocial. But Ellen most certainly isn’t expecting one of the prettiest women she’s ever seen, with strawberry blonde hair pulled back in a careless ponytail, bangs hanging just above eyes as blue as a cloudless sky. And just like that, Ellen’s starting to understand the appeal of the place. 

“C’mon now, Pam,” Jimbo drawls, scratching the back of his head sheepishly. “Jus’ tryin’ to be friendly.”

“Uh huh.” Pam cants her head to the side, unconvinced. “Get outta here before I call your wife.” After he slinks away, Pam gives Ellen an easy smile, bracing her hands on the bar. “Sorry ‘bout that. What can I get for you?”

It’s not until Pam’s closer that Ellen remembers to breathe, the influx of oxygen allowing her to regain control of her faculties and notice the pin fastened to Pam’s maroon t-shirt. It reads in bold white letters against a black background bespeckled by stars: A Woman’s Place Is In Space. 

Ellen’s stomach swoops in delight. 

“You okay?” Pam asks when Ellen doesn’t answer right away.

“Oh, er,” Ellen intelligently answers in a manner befitting a future astronaut. “Yes, sorry.” Heat rises in her cheeks. “Drinks?” She vaguely gestures toward the other candidates, and the pool table where Molly’s lining up a shot that sends a striped ball straight into a corner pocket. “For me. And my…” Her what? They aren’t exactly friends. Rivals would be closer to the truth, but that would sound weird. And she’s already being weird. She eventually settles on, “Colleagues.” 

“Drinks,” Pam repeats, eyebrows disappearing beneath her fringe.

“Yes, um, please.” 

“Sure thing.” Pam nods, thoughtfully observing the other women for a moment before fixing her gaze back on Ellen. “Got something particular in mind? Or should I surprise you?”

Ellen somehow manages not to smack the heel of her hand to her forehead. “Sorry. Jack Daniels for, uh, seven.”

“You got it, space cadet.” With a wink, Pam pushes off the bar to fetch a set of lowball glasses and arranges them in a neat row.

It takes a few seconds before Pam’s words catch up with Ellen. Was Pam referring to Ellen’s embarrassingly delayed response or… “Space cadet?”

“You all are the female astronaut candidates, aren’t you?” Pam reaches past several rows of bottles to fetch the whiskey. 

“What, uh, what makes you think that?” Ellen nervously brushes her hair behind her ear. No one’s supposed to know who they are until they graduate. If they graduate.

Pam shrugs, the tip of the bottle’s spout poised above the glasses. “Groups of women don’t really wander in here. Plus, some of you match the scuttlebutt I’ve heard here and there.”

“Scuttlebutt?”

“NASA types like to talk, especially after they’ve had a few.” 

“That’s…  not unsettling in the slightest.” Ellen tries and fails to tamp down a swell of unease, wondering if they’d all be bounced from the program if word got out.

“Relax.” Pam chuckles, as if reading her mind. She tips the bottle forward, expertly eyeballing  two fingers of brown liquor per glass. “What’s said here stays here. Unless you’re a reporter, then I’m sworn under our unofficial Baldwin rule to kick you out.” 

“Definitely not a reporter,” Ellen says, recalling Ed Baldwin’s very public misstep in calling out NASA after the Soviets landed on the moon last summer. Relief eases some of the tension between Ellen’s shoulders. She shifts from one foot to the other, curiosity getting the better of her. “So, what have they been saying? All good things, I’m guessing,” she jokes weakly, all too aware of the rampant sexism among many, if not most, of her male counterparts.

“They wouldn’t dare say anything negative within earshot of me.” Pam taps her equality button. “Would never get a drink otherwise.” 

Ellen can’t stop herself from smiling as Pam finishes pouring, sets the bottle down, and crosses her arms.

“Let’s see, I’ve heard that two of them were in Mercury 13. Have chips on their shoulders.” Pam nods toward Molly and Patty playing pool. “I’m guessing they’re the ones over there acting like they own the place.” There’s an underlying current of respect in her voice as her line of sight drifts toward the lone table surrounded by women. “The blonde? I’d bet all my tips that she’s Tracy Stevens. Got those Hollywood looks that’d be Gordo’s type.”

Ellen has to admit she’s impressed. “And me?” She asks before she can stop herself.

Blue eyes darting across Ellen’s face, Pam appraises her in a way that sparks flutters against her ribs. “I’m afraid I haven’t heard about you, Ms...?”   

“Waverly.” Ellen sticks her hand out. “Ellen Waverly.”

Pam grasps her hand, grip firm yet gentle, palm warm and smooth. “Nice to meet you, Ellen Waverly.”

“And you’re Pam.”

“That’s right.” Neither of them moves to let go. “Pam Horton.”

Another patron accidentally jostles Ellen’s shoulder and she immediately drops Pam’s hand. “Can I get a couple of beers, Pam?” He asks.

“Just a sec.” She says, transferring the whiskey glasses to a round serving tray.

“So, uh,” Ellen clears her throat as she reaches for her purse. “What do I owe you?” Pam waves her away. “First round’s on the house.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that.”

“It’d be my pleasure.” Her smile is genuine, radiant. “It’s the least I can do for the first American women heading to space.”

Ellen ducks her head, pleased yet embarrassed. “We haven’t passed yet.”

Pam looks her straight in the eye, and says without hesitation, “You will.”

Warmth blooms inside Ellen’s chest from Pam’s sincerity. “I… thank you." She hopes her face isn't as red as it feels. "We’ll make it up to you.”

“Prove all the assholes out there wrong, and we’ll be square.” Pam pulls out two beer bottles, swiftly pops off their caps, and hands them to the man. She inclines her head toward the tray of Jack Daniels. “I’ll have these out to you in a jiffy.”

With one last nod, Ellen makes her way back to the table, heart pounding and already vowing to return to the shithole that wasn’t so shitty after all.