#pergola with sun roof

[timelordoflumpyspace]

Chicago Driveway Ideas for brick landscaping in a medium-sized, mid-century modern backyard with full sun.

[pergola-company-in-dubai]

Customizing Bioclimatic Pergolas with Unconventional Materials and Innovative Design Ideas

Discover how to customize bioclimatic pergolas with innovative designs & unconventional materials for unique, sustainable outdoor spaces.

[irisenterprisesawningandcanopy]

Who Should Opt for Pergola Retractable Awnings in Pune? 

Are you thinking about adding a pergola retractable awning to your home? At Iris, we are experts in providing top-quality solutions for your outdoor spaces. Here's for whom a pergola retractable awning in Pune can be a perfect fit.

A pergola retractable awning offers the flexibility to enjoy the sun when you want it and shade when you need it. This is ideal for Pune's varied weather. Whether it's the hot summer sun or unexpected rain, a retractable awning can adapt to your needs.

1 . Homeowners with Outdoor Spaces: If you have a patio, garden, or balcony, a pergola retractable awning can turn it into a comfortable living area. Enjoy family gatherings, outdoor meals, or simply relax in the shade.

2. People Who Love Versatility: These awnings can be adjusted easily, providing the right amount of shade or sunlight. It's like having a customizable outdoor room.

3. Aesthetics Lovers: Iris Pune's pergola retractable awnings add a touch of elegance to your home’s exterior. They come in various styles and colors to match your taste.

4. Eco-Conscious Individuals: By providing shade, these awnings can help reduce indoor temperatures, lowering your need for air conditioning and saving energy.

At Iris, we understand the unique needs of Pune residents. Our pergola retractable awnings are crafted with precision and care, ensuring you get the best product for your home. Transform your home into a haven of comfort and style! Contact Iris today to discover the widest range of our pergola retractable awnings in Pune. 

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Phone Number- 9922909701

[shutupanddiehl]

Pergola - Patio Patio: Idea for a sizable, contemporary side yard patio with decking and a pergola

[chocolatespacemuffins]

An illustration of a medium-sized traditional sunroom with a skylight

[psychoslave]

Hertfordshire Pergola

[bubblesymphony]

Deck Awnings (Sydney)

[literaryvein-reblogs]

A List of "Beautiful" Words related to Summer

to include in your next poem/story

Aestival - of or relating to the summer

Arboreal - of, relating to, or resembling a tree

Calefaction - the state of being warmed

Canicular - of or relating to the dog days (i.e., the period between early July and early September when the hot sultry weather of summer usually occurs in the northern hemisphere; a period of stagnation or inactivity)

Chanterelle - a fragrant edible mushroom (Cantharellus cibarius) usually having a yellow to orange color

Convivial - relating to, occupied with, or fond of feasting, drinking, and good company

Crepuscular - of, relating to, or resembling twilight; dim

Devilry - playful, reckless behavior that is not intended to cause serious harm; mischief

Forenoon - the early part of the day ending with noon; morning

Igneous - of, relating to, or resembling fire; fiery

Noctilucent - visible or glowing at night; bioluminescent

Ocherous - of the hue of impure iron ore with an earthy usually red or yellow pigment

Pergola - arbor, trellis; a structure usually consisting of parallel colonnades supporting an open roof of girders and cross rafters

Redolence - an often pungent or agreeable odor

Respite - an interval of rest or relief

Salubrious - favorable to or promoting health or well-being

Solstice - the time of the sun's passing a solstice which occurs about June 21 to begin summer in the northern hemisphere and about December 21 to begin winter in the northern hemisphere

Souse - to make drunk

Vespertine - active, flowering, or flourishing in the evening

Viridescent - slightly green; greenish

If any of these words make it into your poem/story, please tag me. Or leave a link in the replies. I'd love to read them!

Word List: Spring ⚜ More: Word Lists

[hometoursandotherstuff]

Who likes tasteful elegance? This 1920 Mediterranean home in Birmingham, Alabama makes you feel like you're in France. 4bds, 2.5ba, $975K.

There is a terrace out front, but you enter into this very elegant gold sunporch with a paned mirror and gold chandelier.

Then, you enter the center room with delicate bas relief walls and baroque art framed right in the wall. Through and arch you see a lacy wrought iron railway on the stairs, plus a smaller arch under the stairs.

A sitting area with a piano is to the right. A fireplace is on the far wall.

2 steps up go to a less formal family TV room.

From the left of the piano is an arch to the dining room that also has access to the sun porch. Sconces light the walls.

A small bar has a marble bowl sink, wine rack, mini fridge, ice maker and microwave.

Looks like reading room or den and it has a sink in the closet.

Galley kitchen has white and gold cabinetry and there's room for a table to make it an eat-in kitchen.

Very elegant stairs.

Lovely corner bedroom gets lots of sunlight.

There is a very French bath and an updated shower.

This guest bedroom or a guest room.

A mural on the ceiling serves as a medallion for the chandelier.

And outside is a covered roof top deck.

The primary bedroom has a full sunken living room with a fireplace.

Small 3 pc. bath.

Here's a workroom.

And a hot tub on a private deck.

Lovely patio with a pergola.

[porcelainmortal]

‘Rooftop’ for A+H obvs. Love a good rooftop!

Have a good Friday! 🩷

Thank you for the ask, M! I loved this prompt. 😊

Decided to challenge myself to only write prose with this one, no dialogue. I hope you like!

It's been a bit of a journey getting the rooftop of the brownstone to be a usable space. It was actually already built out as a patio for the previous owners, but Henry's security team vetoed him using it pretty much the moment he closed on the brownstone. They deemed it too big of a risk; a wide open space easily seen and targeted from the buildings around it. It broke Henry's heart because even though trying to see stars in New York is a futile endeavor, being able to go up and stare at the sky, maybe even put a telescope up there, had been one of the things that appealed to him about buying the brownstone.

Still, it hadn’t stopped him from sneaking up there at night. Under the cover of darkness – or at least as much darkness as exists in Brooklyn – Henry would go up there and lie out on blankets or pillows or whatever he happened to bring up with him. 

Once Alex moved in, he insisted that they make it a more usable space. He’d ordered an outdoor couch, which they carried up together and placed under the pergola that was already up there. They’d picked out some small tables and Alex even surprised Henry with a telescope that folded away into a carrying case so they could set it up as needed. 

Now, one of their favorite things to do is sneak up onto the rooftop and lie together in the dark. There aren’t any stars to be seen with the naked eye, and Henry does feel mildly exposed up there, but he’s safe in Alex’s arms. It’s a different feeling than lying in the dark of their bedroom and sharing secrets and plans for the future; there is something about the thrill of rebelling against the constraints of his security team that adds to Henry’s enjoyment. Plus a feeling of the open air, the open sky, that he just doesn’t get down in the backyard. It reminds Henry a bit of being out at Llwynywermod, away from the stifling claustrophobia of Kensington Palace and the watchful eyes of all of London. 

Even though Henry is still a Prince living in Brooklyn, New Yorkers are both far too busy and far too accustomed to the presence of celebrities to pay him much mind anymore. There is a freedom in the air of Brooklyn that Henry never takes for granted.

It’s early summer and the day was exceedingly warm, but the sun has finally set. When Alex grabs the blanket they use for the roof and raises his eyebrows at Henry, he smiles back and nods, going to grab a bottle of wine to bring up.

They’ll lay under the dark night sky and talk about their plans for the summer. Alex is about to start his final year of law school, so they’re taking some time to travel and clear their heads. There will be some mandatory trips to London for Henry, of course, and Alex will want to go see his dad in California. But in between, Henry is thinking they’ll go someplace really remote. Somewhere they can skinny dip and actually see the stars and lay out nude in total privacy.

Henry sighs, pulling Alex closer. It doesn’t matter that he can’t see the stars. He knows they’re up there, shining down on him, same as his father is. It’s times like this, where Henry has basically everything he’s ever dreamed of, that he really knows he’s being watched over. That he’s being looked out for and protected. He smiles to himself, pressing a kiss to Alex’s forehead, and knows.

Ficlet Friday

[pergola-company-in-dubai]

Cost vs. Value: Analyzing the Investment in a Bioclimatic Pergola for Your Home

Discover the cost vs. value of investing in a bioclimatic pergola for your home. Enhance your outdoor space in Dubai with 800Pergola.

[hankwritten]

A Tavern Named Keep [1/6]

Demoman-centric Modern AU

[1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6]

In a small uni-town in New Mexico, DeGroot Keep serves liquor and succor to an eclectic yet loyal group of patrons, and has for many years. The Keep owes its success to its equally colorful owner, who always seems to know what you need—whether that be a stiff beer or a word of advice. But, between setting up his patrons or sifting through his friends’ problems, will Tavish remember to take care of himself?

Nestled between the Law Offices of one B. L. Tarch and the perpetually-closed Geranium Germinated Wheat Bakery, there sits a modest little Tavern by the name of DeGroot Keep. One wouldn’t be blamed in mistaking the Keep for…anything else really; the structure is made from a homey, tan stone that gives it the air of a snug residential building (and indeed, its proprietor does live in the room above the tavern, but we’ll get to him later.) Fresh green paint trims the windows and roof, never a flake nor chip as a point of pride. Although the tavern’s name hangs above a pair of heavy wooden doors just off the street, this sign is only a formality, as the true entrance to DeGroot Keep (as transcribed by its sole employee on a borrowed flashcard and taped to the door) is procured from the eastern side, down the hall to the right. This esca of a front door can’t be breached even if one tries; within, the Keep’s largest and most impressive wooden table blocks the entirety of it, crouching like a curmudgeonly boulder. Nicknamed the Elephant, (both for its girth and the fact that sixteen dancing elephants are carved into legs), the monstrosity can only be moved by four fairly-fit adults working in coordination, which is a big ask for the patrons of the Keep, so there the Elephant sits. This is actually one of the least egregious examples of the business’s fire and safety hazards.

To truly access this strange example of an alcoholic establishment, one must pass through the repurposed gap-between-buildings, underneath the pergola, and betwixt two stone sea-serpents if they judge you worthy. The spot of shaded greenery one finds there is something to marvel at, though few do. During the day it is shaded, and as the sun goes down, hanging lights guide potential customers to the actual front door.

This is the journey of one truly haggard prospective patron, newly jet-lagged and irate from the front door’s runaround, grumbling to himself with a distinct Australian accent as he pushes inside. Tavish, as well as the handful of early customers hunkered in their normal pods, look up at the bell’s ring.

“Aye there!” greets the bartender, as genial as they come, slipping into the smile he reserves for courting the uninitiated to his place of business.  “Welcome to DeGroot Keep! What can I get for you, stranger?”

The newcomer startles. Hearing a thick Scottish accent in the deep reaches of the southern United States usually does that—in Tavish’s experience—so he’s just glad that the man’s forgotten to be sour-faced for a second. It’s not so odd that it distracts him for more than a moment, though, and he drifts closer to the bar. “Beer.”

“Coming right up!”

Tavish moves automatically, bottles sliding behind the bar with a practiced ease, acting on hunch as sizes up the man before him. He’s not paying attention to the bartender's hands, instead finally getting hit with the sheer unorthodoxy of the tavern’s décor, the Elephant not the least of it. This is perfectly fine for Tavish, who begins the process of rimming a glass tumbler.

“Flight just get in?” he fields, as his customer gazes around in bafflement.

“…Yeah.” The man’s frown—before with an air of perpetual irritation that was more aimed at the general world rather than Tavish in particular—grows slightly suspicious. It tugs him enough out of his beguilement. “How’d you know that?”

“Just a guess.” Tavish shrugs. “You can wear the sunglasses indoors all you like lad, but it wouldn’t hide those bags unless you had a bag o’re your head.”

There is a moment, a moment where Tavish tenses, knowing that not everyone would take brusque ribbing from a stranger with anything more than offense, but then the stranger fully processes what’s been said. He laughs. It’s an abrupt little thing, more of a bark really, but the tension between them breaks, and the Australian sits down.

“Your drink, sir,” Tavish says as he slides it towards him.

“…This isn’t a beer.”

“ ‘S the same price.” A half grin curls up mischievously. “Humor me.”

The man, now sitting at one of the vinyl-clad bar stools patterned to resemble a vintage bottle cap, takes a hold of the mixed drink and knocks it back. After a second, he sets it down, licking the corner of his mouth.

“Bloody hell,” he says. “That’s a damn good drink, mate.”

The hunch, now confirmed, eases back into the twinkle of Tavish’s eye. “Well they don’t call me the greatest bartender between the 106th and 107th longitudes for nothing! I do my best.”

Snorting, the man says, “Mick Mundy.”

“Tavish DeGroot,” Tavish replies, taking the offered hand.

“DeGroot,” Mick hums. “As in DeGroot Keep, then?”

“No actually, complete coincidence. Bought the place from a woman named Dee Gertrude Roots, her pride and joy it was, founded it in the 70s as a swinger’s club. Anyway, terrible thing happened to the ‘ole girl: ‘twas the day of her retirement, and right as she hands me the keys, that there moose-shoe hanging above the door comes free ‘o its nail. Dropped on her noggin, and killed dead right there.”

Mick turns to stare at the comically large horseshoe christening the Keep’s doorway, before glancing skeptically at Tavish. “You’re fucking with me.”

“ ‘Course I’m fucking with you. ‘As in DeGroot Keep?’ Bah, what sort of half-brained question is that?” But Tavish says it with such teasing humor that Mick can’t help but laugh too. Tavish’s starting to like this man, now that he’s getting a good feel for his ins-and-outs.

Gesturing with his half-finished drink, Mick admits, “DeGroot or Roots, you’ve got a real weird bar on your hands.”

“Tavern,” Tavish corrects seriously. When Mick raises an eyebrow, he blisters, “ach, you’re as bad as the Americans, can’t tell a bar from a pub, let alone a proper tavern when you see one.”

“Don’t let him start draw ‘n quartering you for that,” a voice speaks up from beyond Mick and Tavish’s conversation. “Trust me, ain’t no one in the world makes the distinction but him.”

The three men near the door, whose exchange Tavish has been listening to with half an ear, have noticed that Mick has settled into an amicable conversation, the fact that it’s gone on reasonably long marking him as ‘the alright sort’. The regulars around here know better than to crowd any new faces, lest their enthusiasm chase them off. Tavish has a business to run, after all.

“And that’s what’s wrong with your bloody country,” Tavish points at the interrupter. “No one cares but me! When the day comes you’ll all slide into the ocean, except for I and the Keep, the only ones who bothered to remember that words mean things.”

Ignoring him, Dell speaks right on past to Mick. “Bet he told you he was the best bartender in the county too,” the customer-swiping bastard says, elbowing Mick in the side. “He mention he only won that competition because the other contestant had even fewer eyes than him?”

“You just have to ruin everything for me, don’t you Conagher?” Tavish asks, and Dell laughs.

They quickly round-table the introductions, Dell the only one to reach out and shake Mick’s hand. Mikail stoutly offers his name before retreating back into silence, but when it comes to Dr. Ludwig’s turn, he states abruptly, “and I am a free man!”

Mick falters, but to his credit, it’s only momentarily. “Congratulations? Got ‘ta say though, you got balls mate. Most people don’t offer up when they’ve just been out of prison.”

“Prison?” Ludwig says, eyes immediately narrowing behind his spectacles, snapping into suspicion in an instant. “Who told you about that? I want names!”

“I uh,” Mick says, obviously taken aback. Thankfully, Dell always has his thumb on the pulse of whenever something farcical is about to go on.

“What Doc means to say,” he assuages, “is that he’s been freed from the institution of marriage, not the institution of…institutionalization.”

Ludwig’s mood is gone as quickly as it’d come. “Ah ha ha, yes. Silly misunderstanding. Excuse my slip of the tongue.”

Still looking like he’s been swiped at by a wild animal, Mick cautiously says, “…roight.”

“But yes, the papers came in this morning! As of today, I am a free man.”

He proves this by spreading out said papers across the booth’s table, and reciting in glee the legal severances which he had been granted over a multitude of affidavits and certifications. Tavish, having the misfortune of not being able to move from his post, knows Ludwig’s been doing this for the past hour and a half. Mikhail and Dell have shown him saintly support however, the later patting him on the shoulder as he launches into another gleeful discussion of alimony. They’ve retracted back into their corner, for which Mick is grateful.

“Eclectic lot you got,” he tells Tavish. “Setup to a joke, isn’t it? A German, a Russian, and American walk into a Scotsman’s bar.”

“Tavern,” Tavish says. “And you haven’t seen the half of it. Wait until you meet-”

The bell tinkles, heralding the arrival of Tavish’s only employee and their begrudging chauffeur.

“You’re late,” he tells Pyro.

The bout of muffled, frustrated yelling he gets in response is directed at Jeremy, who puts his hands up in defense. Pyro points at their roommate furiously, laying the truth bare.

Tavish raises a brow at the sputtering man. “You slowed down just so you could stare at the track team’s arses?”

“It’s a student crossing zone!” Jeremy caterwauls with the trod upon hallmarks of an argument carried all the way from campus to the bar. “I had to slow down. And, y’know, maybe while we were stopped I looked, but I was-”

Pyro throws their hands up in exasperation and walks behind the bar.

Mick, meanwhile, has been gazing at Pyro nonstop since they stepped in the door. Tavish doesn’t blame him. It’s not every day you see someone in a fully flame-retardant suit tie on an apron and then put a little chef’s hat on their head.

“Jaw off the floor, lad,” he says to Mick, not unkindly.

Realizing he’s staring, the Australian self-consciously follows the command. “…Sorry.”

“ ‘S alright. They get that a lot.”

The person in question doesn’t even notice the conversation has fallen on them, shuffling to the back kitchen in preparation of the upcoming dinner rush.

“…They wear that all the time then?”

“Yeah,” Jeremy says, swinging into the stool on Mick’s right. “It’s cool though. Believe it or not, Pyro’s not even the 4th weirdest person at TFU.” Jeremy pauses, as though just registering who he’s talking to. “Who are you, anyway?”

“Scout, be nice,” Tavish warns.

“What? I am being nice! I’m asking who this chucklenut is, ain’t I?”

“Mundy,” Mick growls, already deciding he’s not going to like this kid.

“And I’m Jeremy, but everyone calls me Scout, so there, now we’re all acquainted and shit.”

“They call you Scout?” Mick asks dubiously. “Why?”

“Uh, ‘cause it’s my name, duh.”

“What kind of name is Scout?”

“What kind of name is Mundy?”

Tavish, feeling that occupying the new guest is handled for a little while, (assuming Jeremy doesn’t annoy him to death), gracefully withdraws from the conversation in the horizontal direction—sliding down the bar to where his second most care-intensive client is.

“Lassie,” he says, gently jostling her shoulder, “it’s 5:19.”

“Urg,” Pauling says, lifting from the gentle cushion of her folded arms and into the buzzing light of the Keep, illuminated as it is by the faux-stained glass filtering down from the ceiling. Her cats-eye glasses are ever so slightly out of place, much like the stray hairs popping up from her bun as though they too have just been woken from a nap.

Another bartender might be concerned to find a woman passed out on his bar after only one gin and tonic, but Tavish knows that this particular woman is only held together by stress and paperclips. Before she’d come through Keep’s doors, she’d been going on thirty hours without sleep. It was no wonder that she’d walked in, taken her usual, and then immediately slumped over in her favorite chair.

“Wuzz…” she grumbles, then shoots up like a jack-in-the-box. “5:19? I told you to wake me up at 5:14!”

“I know, but you were just so exhausted looking, I thought you deserved a wee bit longer.”

“It’s not about deserving.” The papers that had provided a barrier between wood and face are gathered quickly, slotted into clipboards and shuffled into her accordion bag. “It takes sixteen minutes to get from here to The Facility at a brisk walk, but to get there in eleven I’ll have to punch that up to a light jog and then I’ll be sweaty, and the Administrator will notice because she always notices and-”

A stray paper flutters away as Pauling fails to put it in its appropriate folder.

“Crap.”

That’s not the end of Pauling's troubles either. As she makes her break towards the door, Jeremy scrambles out of his chair and into her way. “Yo, Miss P!”

“Scout. What is it. Kind of in a hurry.”

Jeremy, with his cap a little crooked as he rubs the back of his head, inevitably does not take the hint and says, “yeah you’re always in a hurry, that’s why it took so long to tell you, I wanted to bring it up when it was new ‘n all-”

“Scout. Talk faster.”

“I just uh,” he flounders. “I got a new bike. A scooter, like yours, just because you make it look so cool, and when my car broke down I figured I could make it, uh look cool...too,” he finishes lamely. “So like, in the future if you ever want to talk about bikes and stuff?”

There is a heavy, prolonged movement of air. A sigh if a sigh were on the inhale, sucking all the aggravation out of the tavern like a straw sucking up Gin and Tonic. “That’s great Scout. We can definitely. Do that.”

“Really? That’s great! I mean uh, that’s cool.” He notices that he’s still blocking her exit. “Sorry, let me just uh…” With that, he scoots out of the way, and Pauling is off at a light jog.

Tavish waits until the bell has longs stopped ringing before frowning at Jeremy. “I thought you were over your crush on her.”

“What?” Jeremy seems genuinely startled. “I am! Like wayyy over it, over the moon about it.”

“Not what that means, lad.”

“Point is I’m not into her.” He puts his hands in his pockets. “I just still want to be her friend, okay? That so freaking hard to believe?”

“With you, a bit.”

Mick, watching the exchange with amusement, snorts. Jeremy glares.

“Glad Scout didn’t chase you away,” Tavish says, done with his sworn Pauling-attending duties and free to return to his other customers. “Now that Pyro’s in, we should have the kitchen up and running soon. If you’re staying around that is?”

Mick pauses, and takes a good hard look at the interior of DeGroot Keep. His eyes go up to the inlaid stone ceiling, festooned with glass lamps and beaded tassels that are now doing the heavy lifting as the daylight fades. He takes in the decoration: the murals of lonely bagpipe players inlaid to the wall as if they were tiled there, the stringless harp hung above the bar, the mounted deer head with a cigar in its mouth. His attention hovers on the group of new acquaintances, still carrying on their warm conversation in the corner.

“Sure,” he says. “Why not?”

Tavish smiles. “Here’s the menu,” he says, sliding the laminated square toward Mick.

DeGroot Keep ( all tax included )

Flaming Burritos $11

Shrimp Flambé  $16

Cheese Saganaki $10

Steak Diane $20

Bananas Foster $7

Crème Brule $7

Baked Alaska $11

“He lets Pyro write the menu,” Jeremy says fondly, swinging back into his place beside Mick.

“Aye. And if you ever order a Swedish Glogg, it’s my solemn oath to let Pyro know so they can light it on fire themself,” Tavish says with a wink.

“I don’t even know what a Swedish Glogg is,” Mick says, pouring over the menu in bewilderment.

“Would you like to find out?”

He blanches somewhat. “Maybe some other time.”

At that, the words burrow themselves somewhere warm in the vicinity of Tavish’s heart. Some other time meant the future, meant that even if this stranger was only here for a little while, he’d be back again. The thing is, Tavish likes people. As much as he likes drinks, as much as he likes being a business owner, there’s something special about the way you connect with someone over a bar, one that he’d never gotten anywhere else. He likes this collection of people he’s accumulated, the way ‘regulars’ don’t quite describe them. Because the Keep isn’t a normal tavern, not really.

As Pyro swoops in to take Mick’s—and eventually Jeremy’s—order, Tavish moves a step back, sliding into the background as he uses the moment to drink it all in.

“Hm. New recruit.”

The voice comes from Pauling’s old spot, now a bit shadier than before. In it, a much larger man sits as he contemplates the stranger at the far end of the bar, a bottle of beer before him. He must have snuck in with his spare key, even though Tavish has told him a thousand times that ‘avoiding populated thoroughfares’ isn’t what it’s for.

“Jane,” Tavish laments, though there’s no true reprimand in it. “You don’t need to get your own drinks,” he says of the beer.

Jane draws it closer to himself, as though Tavish might try to take it away. “…Didn’t want to bother you.”

“I’m your bartender, lad. It’s my job.”

Tavish begins the task of retrieving a mug from the lowest shelf, and pouring Jane his usual. As he does, he watches Jane watch the gaggle up front, a look of concentration crossing his already stern features.

“What’s he about, then?” Jane asks as Tavish pours until the beer’s head is just about to crest over the edge.

“Dunno. Haven’t gotten that far yet.”

“But you think he’ll stick around.”

Not a question. “Well, I have a good intuition about these things.”

Jane tilts his head in Tavish’s direction. “Undoubtedly! Your talent for acquiring fruitcakes and weirdos is unparalleled within the state of New Mexico.”

“Aye, that’s how I found you dinnae I?”

To that, Jane only grins, and takes a sip of his beer.

And well, he’s not wrong, is he? Tavish takes a look around at the cozy little community, chuckling as Jeremy inserts himself into Dell’s side of the booth and makes a nuisance of himself, thinking about how he could get Pauling to possibly slow down for a few minutes next time. It’s nice to have a group of people he can count on to always be around, not the least because they’re paying him to make them drinks. It’s nice to have folks to look after.

As a few more people come in through the Keep’s portcullis, he once again remembers to be grateful for everything he’s got.

[bob-surrunkel]

Bedtime Talking 01.07.24 (att. 1)

It's raining here. I stay on the coast, behind two roads that lead to the city in the north and the hills to the south. Their lanes are wide and were paved in the last two years so the cars move smoothly over and through them. The sound of their tires navigating the wet curves is soothing, and the engines' hums join with the wind as it flows from the sea, rolling against my windows. They rattle at the meeting and jolt me every now and then.

I've warmed my sheets for the last half hour and they lay close against me, wrapping tightly around my waist. The sound of the raindrops feels sweet. I'm tired enough now that they remind me I have a roof over my head, and my pillow becomes softer at the reckoning. Sometimes a seagull's cries cut through the pattering, and they become the same as a lively song, sung amongst resting ears. A yawn is my very own chorus. My shifting, although restless, feels comfortable. My shades are half drawn so I see my faded white ceiling clearly in the moonlight. Tonight it's a strong crescent, the reflecting light cut just below the middle.

I tune into the pattering again. I hear the droplets strike the plastic pergola and set it to deep thrums, and it taps against the ceramic tiles with small, sharp, dotted quickness. The frequency softens and rushes in sections, so while the sound remains the same the rhythm keeps moving. If I think of it as a story of the clouds, the wind, yesterday's puddles and the winter sun that shone over the beaches it gladdens me. I hear it rolling through the pipes and know it will find the sea again. It plops against the leaves of the eucalyptus standing on the street and I imagine that it's cold but okay to be out there. My body is warm and my skin is soft, and I listen to the rain for a while and smile alongside my senses. God bless walls. I fall asleep thinking of the breeze.

[reahan-khan]

How can 800PERGOLA create value in your house’s backyard?

The pergola is one of the most iconic ways for home and garden enthusiasts to add style and sophistication to a property. The pergola, which provides stylish shade in the summer and elegant cover in the winter, is an accent that gives a home true character.

Even better is the value a covered wooden pergola or outdoor aluminum pergola can add to your home. If you ever think of selling your home and want to add an element of grandeur to it that will dramatically increase its value.

You can also add a backyard wooden pergola or garden aluminum pergola to your outdoor space to improve its appearance. Whether your pergola is a standalone structure or an extension of an existing veranda, it will provide years of enjoyment while also increasing the value of your home when it comes time to sell. Let’s figure out how 800PERGOLA can create value for your house’s backyard by installing a pergola:

Turn the Corner

Don’t have enough money to build a large covered patio? Install a pergola with the help of modern pergola developers in one corner of your deck for additional shade and privacy. The outdoor aluminum pergola at the far end of the deck is ideal for entertaining and dining guests while also giving the sprawling deck a more intimate look and feel.

Off the Hook

Hang potted plants around the perimeter of the small wooden pergola to take colorful blooms to the next level. Attach small metal hooks to the rafters, then attach steel wire hangers to plant pots through holes drilled into the pots’ sides and hook the hangers to the hooks. As the pergola will limit sun exposure, choose plants that thrive in the shade, such as begonias or dead nettle.

Far Off Fun

No rule says an outdoor pergola has to be next to the house! Feel free to place one in a secluded area a few paces away from home. A small wooden pergola installed beneath a large tree provides shade and plenty of space for guests to play during the day. Meanwhile, oversized lounge chairs and bright outdoor lighting ensure comfort and safe patio navigation after dark.

Symphony for Strings

Lantern-style string lights with festive multi-colored bulbs will brighten your next summer soiree. All thanks to the best Pergola designers in Dubai for bringing life to the innovative pergola ideas to enhance the house’s value. You need to run a metal tension wire along the pergola beams and secure it with screws to get the party started. Then, using cable ties, connect the individual lanterns to the wire. Plug the lights into a nearby outlet, and there you have it—fun illuminated!

Training Day

Can’t withstand the heat? For natural shade, train vines to climb over the roof of an outdoor aluminum pergola. Choose twiner or grabbing climbing vines like wisteria or sweet pea, which wrap their stems around structures quickly, and then tie the vine stems to pergola posts with twine to encourage upward growth. Tie the upper branches of the vines to the beams when they reach the roof to enable them to grow across. You will soon be relaxing under a cool canopy, thanks to expert pergola developers!

Splash Out

Convert a backyard wooden pergola into a pool house with water-friendly furniture and an in-ground hot tub—the setting will be as popular in the winter as it is in the summer. Combining wood with other natural materials like stone and brick on a patio increases the welcoming factor and the house’s value. You can also add more features to the idea by reaching the best Pergola designers in Dubai.

Small yet Striking

Is your yard small? Not a problem! The small wooden pergola is only six feet square, but it includes a built-in trellis for climbing vines, a bench for relaxation, and stealth storage (stow garden tools or other gear underneath). It is a great idea to put it just beyond the walkable yard area, where it will not get in the way of romping kids and pets.

Don’t Miss the Opportunity!

Need some shade, privacy, or drama in your backyard? Consider adding a backyard wooden pergola or garden aluminum pergola to it with the help of 800PERGOLA experts. Interested in enhancing the value of your Villa’s backyard, connect with us now!

Address

RATW, DY 21, Al Jadaf, Dubai, United Arab Emirates

Email Id:   sales@800pergola.com / inquiry@800pergola.com

Mob: 055 380 5148      

Tel: +971 04 325 2966

Toll-free: 800 7374652

Our Social Connect

https://www.linkedin.com/company/800pergola

[tinyshe]

Garden Report & Frugal Living 23.09.22

It is getting chilly. In the predawn hours the temperatures drop enough to grab a jumper, shawl or vest. This morning I went out to see the stars (what you can see through the city's light pollution). The morning star was rising over the roof tops, a very twinkly red-orange-red and as it climbed the sky, it faded to a buttery yellow. We have a break in the fog because rain is on its way so need to consider what's in the garden to get in.

The tomatoes (cherry and pear) are technically done now that they have started to ripen. There will be no more pollination and no more new fruits to develop. Will bring in all those.

Some herbs can ride out the weather but are looking pretty sad at this time of year. Considering small batch harvests like mint. Could do more rose petals with the amount of roses. Have to harvest the wild rose hips before the soggy rain (will incorporate

Blackberries are starting to molding in the heavy fog/dew so need to be careful to do a second sort before tossing in the freezer. Fruit flies are hanging heavy as well. The yellow raspberries are so delicious, the faint taste of flowery apricots or a melon. They are not heavy bearing for our hungry family (I have a 2m row) but considering doing root propagation to multiple ... but as always: where to put them! I am actually considering ripping up a small paver patio and taking down the pergola . Right now it is a landing pad for construction material (new and salvaged) and other junk has come to roost as well. I have to reclaim it as freed space before I can come to a decision. The apples are in. I need to keep an eye on them as some are ripe, others are green and they are resting/mellowing in the cold dark dining room. I don't want apple slush slime/sweat to work into the rugs.

The winter garden is vexing me. Its warm enough in the day but the night chill literally puts a damper on them, even under cover. I think the box that is planted just isn't getting enough daylight hours even though it is planted with things that can take partial shade -- we just don't get heat (yeah, global warming :/ ). The low sun in the sky and tree line just might not be conducive to happy plants even on a 'sunny' day. The hops might be ready to harvest mid october but we will have to see about the rain -- its a no win if they are contaminated with molds.

It feels rather strange not to be doing canning. I have been putting things through the dehydrator but have to watch the electrical metre.

And my frugal tips for the day: 1) make sourdough starter. The breads, even the artisan types are using so much conditioners in their dough that you can take the finished product and mash it into wet dough balls. And the price of bread has doubled and for some markets, tripled in price. Carving out time to make dough and bake on my day off for less money and better nutritional toothsome bread. 2) I had made some chicken curry using boneless thighs enough (so I thought) for two nights. The chicken was so waterlogged that it was floating the meat and the sauce had turned to soup. The chicken was consumed in one meal (hungry kids) and lots of soupy sauce was left. Saved soupy sauce and the next night stirred some hamburger crumble into it, adding chopped onions, bell pepper and carrot to serve over rice. Double dipping on the sauce was a great option/second use of the mess. It was like reinventing leftovers that might have gone to waste.

[therapardalis]

['Distracted' Meme from @iobartach.]

The sender, distracted by the receiver, accidentally knocks over something. ( with a twiiiist , he manages to catch it!) ------------

Thera's in the pergola of roof garden, replacing the canvas shade. It's an annual event for her, or near as she can manage when she happens to be in town. The seasons are changing, and the now worn and faded shade cloth that kept off the worst of the summer sun gives way to another that will ward off the snow.

She knows that she could have appealed to Miguel for help, but she sees no reason; she's capable, and it simply doesn't occur to her to ask on a matter she's always managed perfectly well on her own.

Experience tells her that the work is more than enough to keep warm, despite the whisper of the snow she wants to guard against already promised in the breeze, and indeed by the time the old covering is half-way detached she's already raising a sweat. Her pullover is discarded, leaving only a tank top and trackpants as she goes back to work. Climbing the ladder, shoulders working as she prises the old nails from the wood, a stretch to pull part of the awning free ...

A sudden clatter sends the curious local pigeons scattering, startles her enough that the ladder wobbles and she catches a strut for support as she hurriedly turns around ... to find Miguel frozen in place, slightly crouched with huge hands supporting the toolbox that was sitting on the birdbath not far away. Physically, everything's still, for the moment it takes her to catch up on what just - nearly - happened.

"Careful, honey," Her tone is light, eyebrows rising and lips likewise into a smirk, "I might be needing those in a while."