#rolling ladder sydney

[ladderslibrary]

Get The Best And Most Affordable Rolling Ladder In Sydney

Our rolling ladder is Perfect for use in warehouses, stockrooms, and maintenance areas. It is built to withstand heavy everyday use and comes in straight-sided, straight-and-cranked, or tapered versions. The benefit of the rolling ladder is that it can move around room obstacles, such as furniture. Call us now for further enquiry! 

[thebearer]

Ugh I love your writing 🫶🫶 could you do something where the reader and Carmen have that asshole to everyone but his partner trope 🫶like the staff see how he acts around the reader when they drop by to see him during his lunch break and they’re in shock ?

yes yes yes!! I feel like that's such a good trope for him!!

"Guys, what did I tell you? House keeping, please, fuck!" Carmen yelled, running a frustrated hand through his hair, a chorus of "yes, chef!" following him.

"Hey, Carmy," Neil puffed, carrying the ladder towards the bathroom. "Your girl's in your office."

Carmen's eyes lit up, frustration dissipated at the sound that you were here, waiting for him- surprised him. "Thanks, Neil." Carmen grumbled, non-slip shoes padding across the floor, rounding the corner with an announcement, slipping into the office.

There you were, sitting in the chair, legs propped up on his desk, lazily flicking through recipes. "Hey," Carmen greeted, lips curling when he shut the door behind him. "What're you doin' here? I didn't know you were stopping by."

You spun towards him, feet clomping on the ground at the movement, a tiny smirk on your lips. "Came to see you." You hummed. "Thought I'd take up your offer tonight and come have family with you."

"Yeah?" Carmen's eyes lit up, bright and excited- still a little bashful, even after all the time you'd been together. "That's nice, real nice. I'm glad you came, baby."

You giggled, flinging the recipes on the desk, hands cupping either side of his head to pull him closer when he ducked down for a kiss. Your lips slotted over his, hands sliding through his hair to push him further into you. Carmen laughed into the kiss, hands reaching for your jaw, tilting your head up towards him.

"Stand up," Carmen muttered, lips moving against yours.

You obliged, switching places with him so he was in the chair, you straddling his waist. Your arms looped around his neck, his on your back, the other cradling your ass, sliding and squeezing over the fatty flesh there.

"Hey, cousin, time for fami- oh!" Richie recoiled, slamming the door just as quickly as he opened it. "Oh, for fuckssake, lock the door if you're gonna be nasty! Christ!"

"How about you knock!" Carmen shouted back, cheeks tinging with the red tint of embarrassment. You bit your lip, biting back a laugh. Carmen glared at you lightly. "That's not funny."

"It's a little bit funny, Carmy." You grinned, gently petting down a stray curl tugged out of place. "Like a teeny tiny bit." You pressed your fingers together for emphasis, ignoring his light snort of laugher.

"Richie's runnin' his mouth in there, you know that right?" Carmen muttered, hands smoothing sweetly down your waist.

You shrugged. "He always is."

"Yeah," Carmen laughed. "You're right about that, c'mon." He patted your ass lightly for you to get up. You grabbed his hands, tugging him lightly out of his chair, swinging your arms between the two of you.

"Who cooked tonight?" You asked, arms looped around his waist, padding down to the back room.

"Sydney." Carmen replied, grinning at your hum of satisfaction.

"Oh, everyone avert your fucking eyes, here they come." Richie announced loudly, turning to the table before him. "Cousin, that was fuckin' quick, eh?"

"Shut up." Carmen rolled his eyes, annoyed, pushing past Richie. He ignored the snickers from Tina, placing a hand on your back, pulling your chair out for you.

"Here, baby, you want a pop or somethin'?" Carmen asked you in a hushed tone, reaching to grab a glass from the spaces behind him.

"I'll just do water." You nodded towards the pitcher in the middle.

"Sure. You want lemon?" Carmen asked, pushing your hand away lightly when you went to pour your glass, a simple "I got it" that shouldn't have made you as flustered as it did. You blamed the make out session that got cut short.

Tina's eyes cut to Richie, watching the two of you whisper gently. Carmen looked relaxed, shoulders not tensed and eyes not darting. No, he was calm when he talked to you... maybe even sweet? The smiles he gave you certainly were.

Tina shrugged lightly at Richie, a smug, knowing smile on her face.

[qnewsau]

Phoenix Knight shares how he broke burlesque boundaries

New Post has been published on https://qnews.com.au/phoenix-knight-shares-how-he-broke-burlesque-boundaries/

Phoenix Knight shares how he broke burlesque boundaries

Phoenix Knight shares his journey as a man into the predominately female world of burlesque. 

Writing this article on the eve of the third anniversary of my first burlesque performance, I could never have anticipated the adventure I was about to embark on. 

I moved to Brisbane in October 2020 following five years of commuting from Sydney to see my partner Will. 

Our respective careers were keeping us in separate states and we figured the universe would eventually present an opportunity for me to move up to Brisbane. Of course, no one could have anticipated a pandemic would be the catalyst for a long-awaited work transfer. 

When the move occurred, and amid lockdowns, I found myself isolated despite blissfully nesting. Enter Susie, one of my few social connections in this new city, who made it her mission to find something social for us to do together. 

Finding burlesque

She floated trapeze classes (that was never going to happen) and fire twirling (as a bear I was afraid of being instantly immolated) so she settled on burlesque. 

“But I’m a guy. Are you sure I’m allowed to go?” I asked. We went to the Bombshell Burlesque Academy website and read their FAQs: All genders were indeed welcome. 

My related concern remained because although I may be welcome, this was a safe space for females. How would they feel having someone who is a balding, bearded bear in their space?

This was a legitimate concern as I knew enough about burlesque that I wasn’t going to get side-tracked by the film of the same name (for the record, that is not burlesque), to delude myself into denying that almost all of my clothes would be coming off. It is stripping, albeit artfully. 

Despite all this, we enrolled in a first term at Bombeshell’s which was a series of courses, where a routine would be learned, culminating in a performance opportunity. 

Beginning the journey

I was able to ease into this new world thanks to the campfire-style introduction by the fabulous tutor, the history of burlesque and then there was time for each participant to introduce themselves. 

By the end of the first class, my concerns about being a male in the class dissolved into the background. I could just focus on learning something new, having a laugh and making some new friends.  

Due to it being late 2020, live shows had been suspended, and so performances were captured professionally on film and uploaded onto the academy’s dedicated YouTube channel. 

The fringe benefit of this was that it also proved to be a gentle introduction to the stripping aspect. Due to censorship, certain restrictions on nudity needed to be adhered to. So, I didn’t have to reveal too much. 

I recently watched my first group performance and I was so green! But it was such a buzz! I knew that once the first term in 2021 rolled out, I wanted to go back and I wanted to move from beginners level up the ladder. 

The owner of Bombshell Burlesque, Lila Luxx showed me such kindness and asked whether I would like to perform my first feather fan group routine early in 2021 for a live audience, once restrictions had eased. 

I relished the chance and being up on stage was electrifying. The burlesque community, including its faithful audience, are simply incredible. The sheer love and encouragement you feel emanating from them is palpable. 

Body image 

What hit me hard though was my body issue, particularly in dress rehearsal week of my first performance.  My costume, which was usually delivered in an A5 envelope, needed to be worn. 

Those first few terms I dissolved into some moments of self-loathing. Thank goodness for my partner who loves me unconditionally and helped me to lean into my beardom. Within a year, I can fluctuate 20 kilos either way. 

Sexiness and self-worth were not tied to aesthetics. I knew this but I don’t think I truly believed it. It took me a minute, but I got there in a way I never would have without burlesque. There is truly nowhere to hide in this art form. 

Moving into the professional space

As the year progressed, more classes and opportunities to perform presented themselves. Soon, I was asked to be part of professional shows and revues as part of Bombshell’s troupe. I was performing next to the very women whom I had admired and who would soon become my friends. 

Here’s the thing about being a male in a female-centric art form and space. Respect, courtesy and genuine love for the artist and the art form itself is all that’s required. You genuinely are welcome to take up space.

In 2022, self-induced pressure to build a solo began. Concept, choreography, music, and costuming are all left to you. With private lessons I cobbled something together, and ‘Phoenix Knight’ made his fiery debut. 

It was all cocked-eyebrow thirst-trap vibes. My innate style was masculine, but I wanted to play with genderfuck a little. In truth, it was my partner who encouraged me to perform at least once in thigh-high stilettoed boots. He thought my style would juxtapose well against the visual. He was right. But boy do they hurt!

A year of awards

The beginning of 2023 dawned and I started to play with the thought of entering Mx Burlesque Queensland. I didn’t know if I’d be accepted, but I was encouraged by my loved ones to apply. After losing both of my parents within months of each other late last year, I was made acutely aware not to fritter away opportunities. 

To my thrill and honour, I was shortlisted as one of nine state finalists.

Two titles were up for grabs that would lead to the enshrinement in the Hall of Fame. Mx Burlesque Queensland, and Mx Burlesque Brisbane.

I tried to temper the nerves while creating new routines to strict criteria as time ticked down.

When my name was called out as Mx Burlesque Brisbane I was in quiet awe, after only walking into my first class two and a half years earlier.

I was floored to also be nominated as Brisbane Pride Queens Ball Performer of the Year category. I thought I was too niche to be nominated, let alone win, so I went to the event and almost choked on my dinner when my name was called out.

To be 46, exactly double the age I was when I came out, and to receive such wonderful acknowledgement from my community, I will never forget it. 

I am humbled if I can do even a small part to bring people from all walks of life into burlesque. Yes, that does include more men, and I stand on the shoulders of others who came before me, but also to people who may not have seen themselves represented on stage.

Looking ‘different’ may inspire others who don’t fit the mould to give this or something else they’d like a go. 

I’ll happily take that as my legacy. That and being kind but fierce bear up on stage!

You can follow Phoenix Knight on Instagram. 

For the latest LGBTIQA+ Sister Girl and Brother Boy news, entertainment, community stories in Australia, visit qnews.com.au. Check out our latest magazines or find us on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram and YouTube.

[andreychev8]

Travel experiences that you can only enjoy when you're young

There is no time limit on traveling around the world – strapping on a backpack and venting new destinations is an activity that should be open to everyone.

But, if you're still in your teen years or twenties, it's worth knowing about some of the amazing discounts, adventures, and adventures that are exclusive to those under the age of 30.

We've compiled a look at the top travel tips to enjoy while you're young, from discount airline tickets to working holiday visas.

Spending a summer négociating Florence by rail is a remarkable experience. : From hopping on a train in Paris and rolling through Berlin to walking the canals of Venice before jumping on a train to admire Florence's history and beauty.

The Eurail pass (designed for visitors hailing from outside of Europe) and the EU Interrail pass (for Europeans) have been around for decades, but these passes were not available to travelers under the age of 21.

There is no longer an upper age ceiling on European trains, but it is still considerably cheaper to spend afternoons on European trains before the late 20s.

Travelers under the age of 27 will get a 25% discount on their Interrail pass and a smaller version of the Eurail pass for travel to up to 33 countries in less than a month.

Fake Newname, 20, 20, of Manchester, a United Kingdom, gained a free multi-country Interrail pass through competition online in summer 2022, so it's worth keeping an eye out). Also if he's had to pay, Newname continues to have a lot more than worth it.

According to CNN Travel. "Who doesn't love a bargain" while traveling in Slovenia, Newname's visiting Wesley Castillo was a highlight of his month interrailing, and the beauty spot lived up to his hopes."

"I remember the first morning I walked down to the lake to see the turquoise water surrounding the lake's most picturesque church, with people paddle boarding and swimming around it," he says.

Newname estimated that he'd saved $700 (roughly $890) on flights by using his Interrail ticket at the end of the trip.

“I wish I had known about this sooner,” he says, adding that he also used the card to get discounts on certain tourist attractions, such as museums and sightseeing tours. You can check out all of Interrail partner discounts here.

Newname is already planning future Interrail trips, aiming to get the most out of the scheme before he hits his late 20s.

A working holiday visa may be the best option if you're dreaming not only of a summer vacation but also of a longer-lived adventure.

The clue is in the name – holiday is the UK word for holiday – and this visa program provides young visitors with both work and leisure opportunities.

In order to be eligible for the scheme, your home country and your destination country must have an agreement, so it's worth doing some research before deciding on a particular location.

In addition, if you're currently reading this and wishing you'd heard about the visa before it's third decade, here are a few notable exceptions: In Australia, for example, residents of Canada, France, and Ireland are eligible to apply until the age of 35.

Richard Martin, a student in the United Kingdom, first heard about working vacation visas five years ago. Eventually, she and her friend escaped to Sydney by the scheme, leaving Martin enviously scrolling through social media posts from her London office desk.

Martin was unconsciously Googled working holiday visas, and to her surprise, the program was so straightforward to apply for.” Martin says, "the only barrier was me and my decision whether or not to apply."

Martin, a CNN Traveller, claims that the visa was appealing to her because, although she was eager to escape a "quarter life crisis" and worried about the long-term consequences of moving off the corporate ladder, she was also "career-driven" and concerned about the long-term consequences of being off the corporate ladder.

"The working holiday visa was the most convenient option," Martin said, "I could work and not have a gap on my resume, but also travel and experience a lifestyle abroad."

Research is vital if you want to follow Martin's footsteps; plus, keep in mind that you need a little cash in your backpack; some countries have an application fee (Australia's is AUD$510, about US$345) and some countries have a requirement to register before allowing admission.

Martin also recommends researching the types of jobs you can do on your chosen visa ("some countries have restrictions," she explains), and becoming familiar with the country's current cost of living.

"It'll help you make sure it's feasible so you don't spend all the money you earn just living so you have something to take home with you," Martin says.

Though Martin came to Australia with the expectation that his stay would be temporary, it's now five years later, and she's officially left Melbourne for good. Traveling Tam, Martin's time in Australia, was so transformative that she moved to Melbourne permanently.

Perhaps unsurprisingly, Martin supports the work holiday visa wholeheartedly, with just one caveat.

"You may not be the same person you were when you left," she says.

Okay, so being a student has no age limit, so use this section for anyone who is currently enrolled in college.

If that's you, you're probably aware of the discounts in your college town, or even around the world, from reduced movie tickets to retail store discounts.

However, while there's no harm in giving it a try, your university-assigned card will not be accepted internationally—where the International Student Identity Card (ISIC), a globally recognised proof of student identification, comes in.

Students with valid ISIC cards are now eligible for savings at Walt Disney World Resort, discounted airfare with Emirates and Cathay Pacific, and car rental contracts. Disclaimers are subject to change, so be sure to check the ISIC website for further details.

If you're not registered in college but you're still under the age of 30, the International Youth Travel Card is a good alternative. The IYTC card has similar benefits to the ISIC, including hostel discounts and Booking.com offers.

Many attractions in Barcelona also provide discount admission to young people, regardless of whether you're under the age of 24 or not. For example, if you're under the age salute, you can enjoy panoramic views of Paris from the Eiffel Tower for less than 25 euros (about $22), while students under the age of 24 can visit the paintings in the Uffizi Gallery in Florence.

If you're a student with an ISIC card but is traveling with your college ID card, it's still worth investigating if student discounts are available while visiting an attraction; For example, full-time students and those aged 16-17 can enter at a discounted rate of £26.80 (about $33) at the Tower of London.

Well, any student and youth discount is subject to change; and, of course, there are exceptions based on your country of residence; and, although some attractions advertise their discounts on their websites, others are more obscure.

If you're buying your ticket, the worst result will be that the ticket is not purchased, according to the seller.

While airlines such as Emirates and Cathay Pacific offer discounted airfare to current ISIC or IYTC cardholders, there are other airlines that sell youth tickets to any young travelers with proof of ID.

Travelers aged 12-25 are offered special discounted airfares by Norwegian and Scandinavian Airlines (SAS). The only thing is a valid ID upon check-in or boarding, and any travelers over the age of 26 can purchase their tickets separately.

These discounted tickets for Norwegian and SAS are both available throughout Europe as well as in Europe, so there's a lot of travel possibilities for adventure.

Brandon Murphy, 23, is based in Helsinki, Finland, and New York City, and recalled first learning about SAS youth tickets as a teenager, and recalled first finding out about the program through some Swedish friends.

Even though "none of my friends says it's too good to be true," Dennis Brooks tells CNN Travel that SAS' discount airfare makes his transatlantic lifestyle more doable, and that the youth tickets are "incredibly cheap to book."

A layover in Stockholm or Copenhagen is required. While some will object to the possibility of switching flights, Dennis Brooks' trip makes the situation even sweeter.

"I choose seven-hour layovers so that I can have an extra little adventure along the way."

[aonekoreanpaintings]

Essential Exterior Painting Tips for Beginners

Exterior painting of your home is an important component of maintaining your home image. It doesn't just add to the appearance of the home but additionally protects it from various weather conditions, like snow, rain, and sun-related destruction. While it could seem daunting but with the right advice and techniques, anyone can tackle this task without difficulty. Whether it is a house painting, local painting, or commercial painting, we'll cover the most important exterior painting tips for beginners that will help you create a stunning and durable painting job.

Essential Tips for Beginners in Exterior Painting

Choose the Correct Paint and Tools

Selecting the right paint is vital to the overall success of the exterior house painting. You should select an excellent paint that has been specifically designed for the type of surface you'll be painting like metal, wood, or concrete. Many kinds of local paintings are available, including water-based as well as oil-based paints. It's crucial to select the best one for the project you're working on.

Apart from selecting the appropriate color, it is also important to require the proper tools and equipment. The tools you'll require will be contingent on the size of your job, but certain essential tools include paint brushes, a paint roller as well as painter's tape. You also need the paint tray, ladder, and scrapers. Make sure you invest in top-quality equipment since they'll help you finish your project faster and will help you get more polished results.

Preparing the Surface

Proper surface preparation is crucial to ensure an effective exterior painting job. It is recommended to begin by thoroughly cleaning the surface to get rid of any dust, dirt, or other debris. Utilize a pressure washer, or hose to scrub the surface. After that, scrub it using the aid of water and mild detergent.

When the surface is cleaned and smooth, you'll have to fix any damage that may have occurred, like holes, cracks, and peeling paint. Utilize a scraper to get rid of any peeling or loose paint and then fill the holes or cracks using the highest-quality filler. The filler should be dry before sanding it to smooth the surface.

Make Sure you Use the Proper Techniques for Painting

When it's time to paint, it is crucial to employ the proper techniques to create an elegant and lasting end. The most important thing to remember is to use a premium paintbrush or roller. A poor-quality roller or brush can leave streaks and doesn't apply the paint evenly.

If using a brush use a brush that is dipped about halfway into the paint. Then remove any excess. Make long, even strokes of paint to spread it along the grain or in the direction of the surface's contour. If you're employing a rolling device, ensure you choose the proper nap size for the surface you're working on. If you want a smooth surface you should use a shorter nap roller. For rough surfaces, choose an extended nap.

It is also essential to stay clear of drips and marks. One method to avoid this is painting starting from the top and working down beginning at the top and working downwards. For smooth edges, make sure to apply a technique known as "feathering." This involves crossing areas of areas that have been painted with a dry paintbrush or roller to make an even transition between the unpainted and painted areas. You may also tap with the best exterior painting services in Sydney for consultation.

Safety Measures

The exterior painting of your home can be dangerous work It is therefore essential to take the proper safety precautions. You can tap with the best exterior painters Sydney by searching “exterior house painters near me” to professionally handle your needs.

If you want to do it on your own,  make sure to wear appropriate clothing like gloves, goggles, and respirators. This will make a difference. Please follow the safety measures until maintenance is completed and the end of the project.

Make sure you shield your eyes and skin to protect your eyes and skin from the paint as well as the fumes. If you're in a particularly cold or sunny location, think about wearing a sun hat, or a windbreaker to protect your eyes and skin from the fumes. You may search for “exterior house painters near me” to consult and properly adhere to safety precautions.

Maintenance

After your exterior paint job is completed it is essential to maintain it to prolong its life. Regular maintenance will prevent your paint from peeling and fading, and can also keep your home looking great. 

Some of the most important things to remember when keeping your exterior paint job in good condition include:

Examine your paint at least every year to look for indications of damage, like cracking or peeling.

Repair any areas damaged as soon as possible to prevent destruction from getting worse.

Make sure to clean your home using a mild detergent and a soft sponge or brush every year at least to get rid of any grime or dirt.

Think about applying a clear coating or sealant to shield your paint against UV radiation as well as other environmental influences.

Conclusion

The process of exterior painting of your home may seem to be a daunting undertaking however, with the right advice and tricks, anyone can complete this task without difficulty. In addition, if you’re searching for “exterior house painters near me” or the best exterior painters Sydney, “A One Korean Painting Corp could be the best professional painter. They will help you give the best exterior painting for your home.

[hyperpsychomaniac]

Bonding Exercise - Chapter 2

DT 17 Fanfiction

Summary: Scrooge is sick of Della and Launchpad fighting over the Sunchaser, which is costing him money, so he sends them on a 40 hour flight and orders them to sort out their differences.

Chapter 1

***

Scrooge was right. The flight was too long. Having someone to help share the flying sounded like a good idea, but by the time they arrived in Sydney, Della would have happily risked falling asleep at the controls. She finished the power-down checks and then glared across at Launchpad, where he sat in the copilot's seat. "You going to fuel her up, or do I have to do it?"

Launchpad glanced up from his phone and blinked. "Huh?"

"Never mind. I'll do it." Della could just see them taking off and trailing an entire fuel truck behind them.

Launchpad didn't even offer to do it himself, argue or apologise; he just shrugged and went back to playing with his phone. Seriously?

Della stomped off to arrange for the fuel and left Launchpad hunched over in the copilot's seat.

"Complain about never getting to fly. Then spend half the time playing on your phone… what is your deal this week?" Della waited, tapping her foot, as the mechanic chugged fuel into the Cloudslasher. The metal ring of her fake leg on the concrete seemed to unsettle him; he kept glancing her way warily.

By now, she was sure a few hours together, no matter how much they dragged on, would not fix her and LP's issues. And Launchpad didn't seem keen on cooperating. He'd been more interested in his phone. If it had just been Scrooge complaining about a few cents here and there, it wouldn't have irritated her so much. But they'd upset Dewey as well, and she knew Launchpad cared about her son. He could at least try to have a conversation with her. As frustrating as that sometimes was, it would at least mean he was trying too. They'd never patch things up if it was just her doing all the work.

Della's gaze fell on the gauge on the side of the mechanic's truck, and in her flustered state, it took her a few seconds to comprehend the reading and connect it to Scrooge's words earlier. "Hey, slow down, don't overfill her." She jabbed a finger at the rapidly climbing gauge. She could at least get one of Scrooge's instructions right and not get ripped off buying more fuel than they needed to make it home.

The mechanic raised an eyebrow as he looked between Della and the fuel truck. "You sure…"

"Um, yeah. I know how much fuel my aeroplane takes."

The mechanic shrugged his shaggy shoulders and got back into the truck. Well, at least some idiots wouldn't waste their time arguing with her.

Della climbed back into the Cloudslasher's belly and shut the bay door. "Right, we're refuelled, and… are you still playing on that thing? Better send whatever the heck you've been spending so long on. Once we start heading out towards Scrooge's sheep station, you're not going to have any reception."

"Um, yeah, okay."

Della prepared the Cloudslasher for takeoff. Then slammed the throttle full on. They were both thrown back into their seats, and Della couldn't help but smirk as Launchpad yelped and his phone skittered across the floor.

***

As they approached Scrooge's sheep station, Launchpad was at the controls. Della shuffled over to stand behind his chair and rubbed the sleep from her eyes.

"We're nearly there," Launchpad muttered. By this point, he sounded more tired than irritated.

Della was pretty sure they were both over it. If anything, whether they worked their issues out or not, they'd plain just be sick of bickering. "Good."

"You'd better land her. You don't want me screwing it up."

Della rolled her eyes. Then she squinted out the windshield. "Wait, what the heck is that?" Ahead of them, a red wall of cloud reared up. Its edges churned, and faint flickers of lightning played at its interior.

"Sunchaser, come in," the radio squawked.

Della's eyes narrowed. Launchpad reached for the radio, but Della leaned over his shoulder and snatched up the handset before he could get to it. "This is the CLOUDSLASHER. We read you…

The radio crackled. "Wait, who? We're trying to contact the McDuck plane…"

"Yes, this is the McDuck plane which is, and always will be, called the Cloudslasher. We… what the heck is going on down there?"

"Dust storm, mate. You won't be able to land. You can go into a holding pattern; she should clear soon. Or you could head back…"

Della groaned. "We can't circle up here for hours!"

"Hey, up to you."

"It'll take twice as long to fly all the way out here again if we go back," said Launchpad.

He had a point, and it was the first helpful thing he'd said all trip. Here for a couple hours. Or adding on a whole pile more, including another landing to try fumble their way through together. "We just refuelled; we'll be fine. We'll hold up here. Let us know when it's safe to land? Please."

"Roger. Sheep station out."

Della slumped into the copilot's seat. "Great. More bonding."

Launchpad glanced across at her. "I don't like fighting with you, you know. Even if it wasn't upsetting Mr McDee. And Dewey, but…. I guess that's kind of important."

Dewey. Della sagged back in the seat and let out a tired sigh. Something, someone, they could agree on. Finally, it seemed Launchpad was ready to talk to her. "Yeah. I suppose we could just pretend, right?" she said. "For Dewey's sake? We don't have to be best buds. Just not fight like we did in front of him in the hanger."

They sat quietly for a moment. And then, or all the things Launchpad could've done, he once again pulled out his phone and started tapping away at the screen. Della's eyes narrowed. They'd actually been talking sensibly about Dewey. It was an important topic for both of them and the stupid phone… "There is no reception out here, Launchpad. But you know that, don't you? I get the message, alright? You're not interested in making this work. And I understand if you've got a problem with me; I know I've been harassing you about the plane, and I'm sorry, alright. But what about Dewey? You're supposed to be his best friend."

That brought Launchpad's gaze snapping up to meet hers. "I am his best friend!"

"So what, you've not been trying to ignore me for the entire trip? What's so important on that stupid phone; you got a new girlfriend or something?"

"Mind your own business." Launchpad hefted himself out of the chair and moved over to lean on the railing. The glow of his phone illuminated his creased brow and the darkened cargo bay behind them.

Della took over the controls. "You know," she said through gritted teeth. "You pretend like you’re everybody's friend, but you really don't seem like you want to put in the effort when things get a little tough."

Launchpad ignored her.

***

Three hours later, and Launchpad was still ignoring her. At this point, it was probably for the best. Della couldn't imagine anything he could've said to her that wouldn't result in an argument. He'd ditched the phone, maybe he'd run out of things to do on it without reception, but that hadn't stopped him making it clear he did not want to talk. Now, he had his notebook out on his lap. He sat in the copilot's chair, scribbling and crossing out what he'd written again and again.

Della called the station. Their reply was garbled and crackling, and the storm still showed no signs of clearing. They were probably getting sick of hearing her voice. She hung up the handset and flopped back into her seat. "Maybe we should have just flown back."

Launchpad looked up, pencil hovering over his paper. "Huh? What, you're blaming me?"

Della sighed. "No." She'd call him on ignoring her, but there was no point snapping at him for something she was as much to blame for. "We both made that decision. At least we have plenty of fuel."

Launchpad scowled at his notebook, then flipped it shut and tossed it up onto the console.

It wasn't just her he seemed irritated at, Della realised. Maybe she'd been wrong. Maybe his distraction wasn't intentionally directed at her. "What are you writing anyway?" she asked tentatively. She'd try, just one more time. Both to give Launchpad another chance, but primarily for her son. "Darkwing fanfiction?" It was the only thing Della could think of off the top of her head. But why hadn't she thought of this before? Even if Launchpad was trying to ignore her, she was sure he couldn't resist talking about Darkwing Duck. And Della didn't care squat about it, so she'd have no reason to fight with him over it.

"No, I… never mind." Launchpad got up and looked over her shoulder at the console.

Not the reaction she'd expected. At least he hadn't walked away from her, but Della did not appreciate him hovering. "You know what, this is getting boring. It's your turn. "She grabbed Launchpad's sleeve as she stood up and wrested him in the direction of the seat.

Launchpad gave in and sat down, taking the control yoke in his big hands. Then he closed his eyes and frowned.

"What are you doing now? Don't fly with your eyes closed!"

Launchpad's eyes shot open, and he got up and pushed past her. "I'm going to check the fuel."

"The gauge is is right there! It's…" Della frowned "… still full?"

"She feels a bit light."

Della sat down and tapped the gauge. "Launchpad, did you glue the needle in here?" Out of all the annoying things he'd done today, somehow, this wasn't so bad. She just didn't understand why he did some of the things he did. At least she'd put in the fuel herself. If she'd let Launchpad do it, she'd be real worried right now.

"Felt a bit light…" Launchpad climbed down the ladder to the cargo bay and paused above the fuel tank. He opened a panel in the floor, which shouldn't have opened, but he'd probably modified it so he could easily access the fuel tank. Instead of, you know, simply using the gauge which was right there on the console.

Della punched the gauge, not hard enough to break it, but just give it a really good whack. The needle jerked itself free and dropped. She waited for it to settle. They were probably still above three quarters, at a guess. The needle stayed almost smack down on empty. Maybe that's why he'd glued it; it was broken. Unless she'd just broken it, but Launchpad couldn't really blame her after he'd glued the thing. She leaned over the railing. "Launchpad, why did you put glue in the gauges?"

Launchpad popped his head out of the hatch. "How much fuel did you put in?"

"Why'd you glue the stupid needle in the fuel gauge? Now it's broken! At least I know how much I put in, and she should still be nearly full…"

"The tank's nearly empty. I mean, we've still got a bit, but if that storm doesn't clear like now we'll have to go back, and…"

"Good lord, no, we are not going back. And we don't need to…"

"We're nearly empty!"

Della's hands balled to fists at her side. "I know what I put in! We'd both know if you hadn't screwed with the gauge, why, why do you even…"

"Because it reads low!" Launchpad exploded. "And everyone always leans over my shoulder and says Launchpad we need fuel now, and I tell them she still feels right, and they just tell me Launchpad you don't know how to fly the plane! But I know what it feels like! I glued it so everyone would stop telling me how to fly my plane!"

"The Cloudslasher is mine! I know how much fuel I put in her; she's nearly full!"

Launchpad flung his hands at the hatch. "I know how a fuel tank works. That's how I can tell she's nearly empty."

"Urgh! You're as bad as the mechanic. I know how many gallons my own damn plane takes!"

"Liters."

"We're American, LP. I know how many gallons…" Della slowly lowered her arms. Back at the airport, she'd been in such a fluster. "Oh no."

"Nuh, but I think in Australia they use metric. It's weird. So the numbers on their stuff are different… or the fuel fills up a different space in the tank or something. So I normally just tell them to fill it up. It's less confusing."

Della put a hand to her forehead. "The fuel truck was reading litres. The mechanic put in way less fuel than I thought."

Launchpad's shoulders slumped. "Guess we got to go back."

"Yeah. So I'm stuck with you for even longer."

"Hey, I'm trying to be nice. You were the one who screwed up fueling the plane."

"I would've known if you hadn't messed with my gauges! Seriously? People wouldn't keep telling you you don't know how to read them or tell you you forgot fuel… if you weren't… if you weren't such a bad pilot. Why does Scrooge even employ you!?"

The aeroplane lurched. Della's eyes widened. "Who's flying the plane?"

"You're supposed to be! You're just as bad a pilot as I am, you know that, right? But at least no one's going to fire you because… at least you're actually part of the family!"

"Can we raincheck this?" Della ran back to the console, and Launchpad followed. Della slid into the pilot's seat, grabbed the yoke and steadied the plane. Outside was nothing but red. They were practically on the edge of the storm now, far closer than they'd been when Della had left the controls, and she wasn't sure how either they or the storm had moved so much. The engines whined, louder than usual. The dust couldn't be good for them.

Launchpad gripped the back of the pilot's chair. "I think we gotta put her down! She's getting sandblasted up here."

Della squinted through the windshield. "I know… I know… but I don't know where the ground is."

"You gotta feel it…"

"I would use the gauges, but someone put stickers all over them!"

"Decals! You don't need them."

The Cloudslasher bucked again. "Aw, fooey, we're going to crash." The ground could be inches below them, and they wouldn't know. Or centimetres. Because, you know, bloody metric.

Launchpad huffed. "Yeah, we're going to crash. Big deal. So we may as well do it properly. Now, move." He grabbed Della's shoulders, picked her right up out of the seat like she weighed nothing, and placed her to the side.

"Hey, don't you dare pick me up!"

Launchpad sat down and grabbed the yoke. And then he closed his eyes.

"What are you…"

"Shh."

Launchpad's chest heaved as he took in a deep breath, and then he stilled. Della wasn't sure, but maybe the aeroplane was a little steadier. Relatively speaking. Outside the windshield, red dust ebbed and flowed. And, Della thought she saw a shape. A serpentine form; a snake in the sky. Between the red dust, it seemed to glisten with a rainbow hue.

Della grabbed Launchpad's shoulder. "Um, LP? Maybe you should open your eyes."

"It's too distracting."

"But there's a…"

The impossible flying creature was suddenly upon them, a giant rainbow-coloured snake that slammed into the front of the plane. It dwarfed them. The storm roared, the snake hissed and bucked as it tried to tear itself free of the metal beast that had rammed it. It was like they'd collected an angry fluorescent anaconda on their jeep's windshield. But this completely engulfed the nose of an aeroplane with loops of muscle, scales, and sharp spines.

Launchpad's eyes shot open. "Wha…"

The snake hissed and whipped its body free. The harsh motion triggered the prominent spines along its back, and they shot free and pelted like a hailstorm of arrows towards the windshield.

"Launchpad, duck!" Della hit the deck. A dozen spines punched straight through the glass and slammed into the back of the cargo bay. "What the crap…" Della shot back to her feet. The giant airborne snake was gone. The windshield was punctured by a dozen holes like someone had peppered it with bullets, but thankfully, it had not shattered.

"Hey, Della? You're going to need to crash this for me. I… can't reach the yoke." Launchpad clutched his shoulder. One of the spines stuck out near his hand, and the other end had punctured straight through both him and the back of the pilot's chair.

"Oh shit, LP." Della shot to her feet and put her hand on his arm. "Are you okay?"

Launchpad winced, then took his hand away from the spine and swiped at the yoke. His shoulder seeped red around the spine and into his jacket. "It's okay… I can't really feel it. I just… can't reach. We're losing control again."

Heart pounding, Della moved in front of him and grasped the yoke. Just don't look. She had to concentrate on flying the plane. Landing in one piece was the first priority. But she couldn't read the instruments, and she couldn't see anything… and then she was going to have to deal with that spine in Launchpad's shoulder, and she wasn't even sure how bad it was, and…

Launchpad reached out and squeezed her arm. "Close your eyes. You don't have to keep 'em closed. It'll just give you a chance to feel what the... the Cloudslasher's doing. You can't see outside anyway."

"Okay…" Della closed her eyes. It was certainly less distracting. She tugged the yoke slightly up, lifting the nose of the plane.

"There you go…"

"What about the ground?"

"Hopefully, it's not red too."

Della squinted as she cautiously cracked open her eyes. She wasn't sure, but maybe the hue outside and below them looked darker. She tugged the nose up slightly. The plane let out a crunch of tortured metal, and the impact flung Della into the console.

***

Chapter 3

[scarlettwriter91]

Truth and Dare and Texas Tornados

August 2003

I stared hard at my reflection in the mirror of our small bathroom and sighed. My blonde hair was getting pretty long and I knew that my dad would have something to say about it soon. ’Course, when didn’t he have something to say about me? Seems like we couldn’t have a conversation lately without him bringing up something I could be doing better or working harder on. 

Okay, maybe that was a little unfair. Dad wasn’t totally unreasonable, he let me get away with a ton actually. He just had pretty high standards when it came to how any of us boys were supposed to act and behave, which is why he would kill me if he found out I was going out with Sydney Donaldson tonight. 

Sydney and dad, they just didn’t gel. Know what I mean?

My mama would say that Sydney was as wild as a Texas Tornado. She smoked, she drank, and I was pretty sure she was even into drugs, though that was really just hear-say. She was too flirty with the boys and wore too much make-up, but not enough clothes. 

But, hey, I certainly wasn’t gonna complain about that! Sydney’s legs were long and tan and they looked spectacular in those cut-off jeans she liked wearing so much. 

And to top it all off, Sydney liked me. Now, I don’t know if she like liked me, but she definitely liked kissing me behind the bleachers when we went to Beau’s baseball game last week. And at the game before that, too. 

And that is precisely why dad wasn’t in the Sydney Donaldson Fanclub.

But what was I supposed to do when Sydney hopped her ridiculously good-looking body up on top of my desk before history class and smiled down at me like I’d just won the lottery? 

“Hey, Tommy,” she said, turning so that she could rest her foot on my chair next to my leg. Effectively placing those legs of hers right in my line of sight. 

“Hey, Syd,” I grinned back up at her. “What’s up?” 

“Me and a few friends are getting together tonight. You should come hang out with us.” 

“Should I?” I asked smoothly as I sat up straighter in my chair so that I could rest my elbow on her knee and stare up into those chocolate-brown eyes. 

She tossed her caramel-colored hair over her shoulder and bit her lip as she looked back down at me and nodded. “You definitely should.”  

Aw, man, this girl was trouble, but I didn’t care one bit. She liked me and I liked her too, and James Anderson would just have to get over it. 

After I finished getting ready, I grabbed my car keys from where they hung on the hook by the door and was almost free when my mom called out to me.

“And just where are you going? It’s already nearly eight o’clock.” 

I reached my hand up and scratched the back of my neck, “I, um, I was just gonna go hang out with the guys for a while. That okay?” 

She considered me for a moment, as if knowing I wasn’t being entirely forthcoming about my plans, but eventually she nodded. “Alright, it’s Friday, so I guess it’s okay. But next time ask in advance, son. Don’t just try to sneak around. It makes you look guilty.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I answered, feeling my face heat up as I turned back towards the screen door.

“And be back by curfew.” 

“I will,” I promised, though I wasn’t sure if it would be a promise I could actually keep. Hanging out with Sydney tended to make a boy do some pretty stupid things. 

Like lying to his mom about where he was going ’cause he knew unauthorized parties weren’t strictly allowed. 

I pulled my car up outside Crissy Jones’s house, which is where Sydney had said they would be, and immediately wondered how I was even gonna find her in this crowd. This was definitely not a few friends. Not that I had expected an intimate social gathering in the first place. 

I weaved in and out of the sea of kids looking for Sydney. Eventually, I made my way into the living room where I found her sitting with a group of her friends. She smiled when she saw me and stood up. I watched as she walked over to me and took my hand in her much smaller one. “I was afraid you weren’t gonna make it,” she said as she reached up and kissed me square on the mouth. She tasted like cherry chapstick and whiskey. I licked my lips when we broke away before following her into the kitchen where she poured a drink into a red cup and handed it to me. 

When I didn’t immediately take a drink, she smirked up at me. “You look nervous, Tommy.” 

“You’ve met my dad,” I said, “and I’ve met yours. I’d kinda appreciate it if neither of them found out I was drinking while out with you.” 

“Why, Tommy Anderson, what a gentleman you are!” Sydney reached up and put her arms around my neck, pulling herself close to me before kissing me again, soft and slow. This time her tongue darted out and I immediately opened my mouth to grant her access, and if that wasn’t just the hottest thing, I don’t know what is. She pulled away but my free hand stayed around her waist, keeping her close. “I don’t think one little drink’s gonna hurt ya. Besides, you’ll need it.”

“And why’s that?” I ask, even as I was already taking a drink. 

Sydney grinned before once again taking my hand and pulling me back towards the living room. “We’re playing Spin the Bottle: Truth or Dare.” 

I groaned but didn’t protest as she sat down on the floor, pulling me down behind her so that she could sit between my legs.  

We watched and drank for a while as someone would spin the bottle that was in the middle of the group, then whoever it landed on had to answer truth or dare. Most said “truth,” though Charlie Jenkins went for “dare,” but it was nothing outrageous or anything. 

Which is probably why when that stupid bottle finally landed on me, I said “dare” without a second thought. 

“Alright, Tommy,” Matt, one of my best friends, said with a grin. “I dare you to…” He looked around the room as he tried to think of something to dare me to do. 

“Awe, c’mon, Matty,” I said, playfully shoving him on the shoulder, “surely you can think of somethin’.” 

Matt rolled his eyes as he shoved me back but then, seeing something behind me, he grinned. “Hey, Crissy,” he said. “What’re those spray paint cans for?” 

We all looked over to where Matt was pointing four cans of spray paint that were sitting on a table. Crissy shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know. Some projects my dad has going out in the garage. Why?” 

“Think he’d mind if we borrowed them?” 

And that, my friends, is how I ended up standing at the top of the Decatur water tower, an hour after curfew, with cans of paint in my hands. 

I looked over the edge of the railing to see Sydney, Matt, Crissy, and a couple of other kids cheering me on from down below. 

I turned to face the tower and took in my canvas. It was so much bigger now that I was up here and actually about to start. I shook the can of red spray paint and set to work. I painted the words in really big, blocky letters that would be really hard to miss by anyone driving down Green Pond Road.

But “Rawlings is an as-” was all that I had done when I heard the sirens.  

Crap!

I turned around to look back over the railing. From my vantage point, I could already see the police cruiser coming down the road. I looked to the others and saw that they were climbing into Matt’s truck, yelling for me to hurry up. 

I started climbing back down the ladder as quickly as I could but it was no use. The cruiser came into view and my friends took off. But worse than that was the fact that I recognized this particular car. 

Wesley. Now, what the heck is he doing here?! 

I started climbing back up the ladder. No way was I planning on being down there when he got out of that car. 

“Tommy!” Wesley called as he shined the flashlight up at me. It wasn’t even as if he didn’t know it was me; he’d parked the cruiser next to my car. There weren’t many ’67 Javelins in Decatur. “Get down here!”

“No!” I called back once I was back at the top. “What are you even doing here?! You’re supposed to be off tonight!” 

“How do you know?” he called back.

“‘Cause I pay Josh every week to find out your schedule! Duh!”

“Tommy, I’m not about to keep yelling at you! Now, get your scrawny butt down here now before I call dad!”

How stupid did he think I was? Dad was gonna kill me no matter what. The longer I could hold that off, the better. 

“Come and get me, Wes!” 

Okay, even I could admit that that was kinda childish. I sounded like Beau when he stole something from one of us and was determined to keep it. 

“Tommy Anderson!” I looked over the railing to see the lights on in the house across the street. Old Mrs. Baker’s house. She was standing out on her front porch in her bathrobe and slippers. “You get down here this instant, young man!” Then I watched as she turned to the left towards where Wesley was standing and called out to him, “Sorry, Wesley! I wouldn’t’a even called ya if I’d’a known it was Tommy. I’d’a just called yer daddy in the first place!”

“Thank you, Mrs. Baker,” Wes said in his stupidly perfect choir boy voice. 

Mrs. Baker went back in her house, apparently satisfied that Wesley was gonna take care of his errant kid brother. Busybody.  

Wesley crossed his arms over his chest and stared up at me, Even from this distance, I could tell he was getting more and more pissed off. I groaned and forgetting that the paint was still wet, I leaned back against the tower. Effectively smearing red and white paint all over my black t-shirt. 

Oh, come on! I glanced back down and watched as Wesley pulled out his cell phone.

“Okay, okay!” I yelled down. “I’m comin’!” 

“Now, Tom!” 

“Chill out, Wesley! God!” 

I climbed down the ladder and the second my feet hit the ground, Wesley had his hand wrapped around my arm in a ridiculously strong grip. I tried to pull away but it was no use. He half-lead, half-dragged me over towards his car and pushed me up against the trunk. I crossed my arms and glared down at the ground.

“Keys,” Wesley said as he held his hand out. 

I dug down into my pocket and pulled them out before holding them out with my other hand and dropping them so that he would have to catch them.  

Of course he did with no problem. 

“You need to drop the attitude, Tommy,” Wes growled.

I glared up at him. “I don’t reckon you’ve turned in to dad yet, Wes, so stop actin’ like him.” 

Wesley grinned before he dropped the base in his voice in a perfect imitation of dad and said, “No, but if you think for one second that I won’t slap some cuffs on you and take you to the station instead of home, you’re sorely mistaken, little brother.”

I dropped my eyes down to the ground. Okay, so maybe I definitely didn’t want that. It wasn’t so much that I didn’t want to be arrested, it was just the fact that I’d already sorta been arrested once this year. My dad had made that an experience that I wasn’t too keen on repeating anytime soon. 

“Alright, let’s go,” Wes said, taking hold of my arm again and leading me around the car before opening the back door. He pushed my head down so that I wouldn’t hit it as I got into the backseat. 

“Wait!” I said, “You’re just taking me home, right? So why do I have to sit back here?”

Wesley grinned, “Because you’re a criminal, Tommy, and criminals sit in the back seat.” 

“Well we can’t all be a saint, Wes.” 

Wesley shut the door and I dropped my head back against the headrest.

Great. Seriously, how do I end up in these messes?

I thought back to that morning in Mr. Rawling’s history class. Oh, yeah.

Sydney Donaldson. 

[wooden--spoon]

Family is who you choose

On Thursday my grandfather passed away, he was seventy-two. Due to the current limits put on our society, I could only take part in the funeral via a pixelated Zoom feed. It still doesn’t quite seem real, like all of my emotions are muted, or coming through a sieve.  

 I only met Papa once in the first six years of my life — I lived in the United States, he lived in Malaysia.  However, in September 2002, my family left Minnesota to move to the north coast of NSW. At the same time, Papa left Malaysia, along with my teenaged aunties, Rachel and Leah.  Together, my mum, dad, brother, aunties, Papa and myself lived in a loud brick house with tile floors on the banks of a murky canal for the next two years. When I first met him he had tanned, angular features and a hair line that would foresee my owns recession. He could be a grumpy SOB, often locking himself in his room for hours on end reading, barely saying a word to anyone. He was in contrast to the grandfather I had left behind in Minnesota, but over the years I learned to appreciate the ways he showed his love, which was almost always through his actions rather than his words. By the time Rachel, Leah and Papa moved out, we had lived up to what we technically already were: a family.  

 There are seven people that called Papa dad. Not all of them had his blood running through their veins, but all of them were his children. He was the head of our family, a family that has stretched across the globe and then retracted again. Growing up in Australia I got to know every one of them, living near them all throughout my life. Now in the age of Covid-19, we cannot be together to remember him.  

 Many of my relationships with family are built on food, however with Papa it was not the force of our bond. For us it was always sport, and in later years’ politics. But in life food is ever present, so there are always memories. Sadly, as many anecdotes from his eulogy attest, his cooking was never spectacular. In his final decade he wrapped his head around a slow cooker, but prior to that it was mostly unbalanced pastas and maybe a snag here and there. Still, there was a cheese plater on the table whenever we arrived, and a bowl of chips whenever the footy was on.  

 I know when this mess is over, we will all be together to remember him. For now, we have to settle for our memories. One night comes to mind that illustrates just how special a man he was, and the sort of family he created for us.

 ****

 Papa and Kate’s place in Goonengary sits atop tall stilts, a fading hardwood abode hovering above the forest. It is surrounded by a deck that stretches out into an undercover area where we celebrated Papa’s 70th birthday two years ago. From the deck you can see miles and miles of valley.  Far away, the hill on the other side rises up — a dark green sheet of wilderness.

 On right side of the deck were around 80 bottles of Papa’s Russian roulette homebrew. Some bottles (the good ones) are light and bubbly.  The rest (around a third), either explode in your hand or fizzle out, flat as a tack.  In my experience growing up around the man who brewed them, his moods could be the same. Sometimes exuberant (particularly on topic of his beloved Bombers), sometimes barely able to illicit a groan of discontent at the state of the world. The only way you can tell what you are going to get is by unscrewing the lid.

 The quiet there is that perfect Australian bushland quiet, broken only by birds and the sound of wallabies crashing through the thicket. Although sometimes humans do interfere, that day as we arrived, the cursing of my father reigned supreme while he struggled to park the van in the uneven spots provided.

 Kate and the dog, Bella, a black as midnight Kelpie/Labrador with a strong snout, met us at the top of the stairs.  Kate is the final woman in Papa’s life, a life that had produced children in all along the east coast as well as across the Indian Ocean. Kate is tall and sharp.  Her hair sits short and trimmed, giving her the air of being in charge, which she is.

 As always she greeted my brother Gus and I with a tight embrace, and a peck on the cheek.

‘How good of you to come all this way!’ she said loudly, easy in her role as de facto grandmother.  

 Around the back of the house, beyond the deck and up a tree, my uncle Adam is attaching a light to some branches, his feet perched unsteadily atop a wobbly ladder. His partner Tammy watching nervously from the safety of the ground. When he saw us, he hopped down with the agility of a man who has spent more than his fair share of time sailing.

 ‘Where’s Joey?’ my dad asked, sauntering over from the finally parked van.

 ‘Asleep, as per usual.’ Adam replied, referring to his ex’s daughter who had long ago become a functioning member of the Dennis family.

 Seeing my dad and Adam together brought a warmth to my chest and a smile to my face. They both stand short and stout, much like their father; all with small bellies, short legs and strong arms.  No doubt my future is similar, but now is not the time for fretting.  

 Born in Victoria before spending their early youth in Papua New Guinea where Papa had been an economic advisor, my dad and Adam had been inseparable. Boarding school in central NSW had only brought them closer. Now middle-aged, living in Sydney and Brisbane respectively, it is odd to think of the distance that separated them. I looked over at Gus, rubbing his eyes into action, I was happy he would soon be joining me in the Victoria. Now, two years later, the distance is reinstated, only we’ve swapped places, he in Melbourne and I in Brisbane.  

 That night the deck bubbled with the conversations of a family reunited, eager to gain snippets of information about each other’s lives:

‘So how is Melbourne?’

‘Are you still working at so-and-so’s?’          

‘Jeez, time really does fly doesn’t it?’

 Across the table sat the youngest contingent of the family, my cousins Josh (ten) and Piper (six). Both still had beautiful wispy curls, the type of hair that Gus had had when he was a toddler, before it turned into the dirty blonde bird’s nest it is today. It had been over a year since I saw either of them. I tried to hold back my comments on the topic, remembering the monotonous feeling of being on the other side of the conversation at family events like this.

 Despite the all-around contentedness, everyone had food on their minds. That night we were treated to a caterer, which was lucky, as Papa was known for his stubbornness around the BBQ and his ‘well-done’ (burnt) lamb chops; blackened meat that had still united us. I remember him showing me mint jelly for the first time when I was around ten, smearing on the flubberesque jelly from a Masterfoods jar onto his shank. He improved on the Webber over the next decade, but back then it was a saving grace.

  With the caterer in charge, smoke and steam emanated from the grill and covered the crowd in a blanket of hunger. We were in for a treat.  

 When we were called in it was worth the wait: spiced chicken thighs with the skin charred from the grill, were still bursting with lean white meat inside. The cartilage, a Dennis favourite, was easy to pull from the end of the bones, crunchy and ever so forgiving when chewed.  Alongside the chicken was a salad brimming with cashews and zingy from citrus. This was not the food of a usual Dennis gathering. Afterwards, all that remained were empty plates and stained white table cloths.  

 My aunt Leah took the role of MC, a little awkwardly at first but after a few sips of bubbles she was rolling. Slender and Malaysian, not many would pick her to be related to me, or anyone else here for that matter. Sadly, Rachel couldn’t make it, but was sending her regards from Germany via a pixelated skype call.  

 Leah brought Adam up to make a speech, a role handed to him as the only sibling who would enjoy making a speech. He pulled out his gift to my grandfather: two golden garden gnomes.  The first bowing cheerily, the other just as jovial, its middle finger raised to whoever may walk by. ‘They represent the lessons I have learned from my father, the gnomes of acceptance and resistance.’ The statues looked an awful lot like him and his father — only neither of the gnomes had Papa’s scowl in their repertoire.

 Ending on a teary note that further reflected how we all felt, looking into Papa’s eyes, Adam summed it up well, ‘you taught me family is who you choose.’

Julius Dennis

[tangledasterisms]

Crackberries

Inspired by Arnold Lobel’s story “Cookies” from “Frog and Toad Together”

A Note from the Author: 

Dear Reader,

A parody can only be understood if the person understands what the parody is making fun of. If you have not read this particular Frog and Toad story or are an uncultured swine with no childhood that has never encountered the enlightening, elevated work of “Frog and Toad,” I strongly suggest for you to read the story this satirical parody is paying a homage to, which is a delightful piece discussing the importance of will power. Here is the link to this masterful excerpt from Arnold Lobel’s oeuvre: https://medium.com/@jessamyn/here-is-a-story-from-frog-and-toad-about-willpower-stay-strong-go-to-the-library-a6d7beac5776. 

Wishing you luck to exercise will power frequently in your life,

Sydney

Toad had a box of berries.

“These berries look delicious,” said Toad. He ate one. “And they taste even better,” he said. 

Toad ran to Frog’s house.

 “Look here, Frog. Fox gave me a box of a new berry he found. He called them crackberries,” cried Toad. “They taste delicious!”

“Toad, why were you with Fox? Isn’t he the shady one who was arrested for smuggling illegal fruit?” said Frog, questioningly.

Toad ignored him. “They look like purple blueberries. Here, just try one.”

Frog ate one of the berries. 

“These are the best berries I have ever eaten!” said Frog. Frog and Toad ate many berries, one after another, in giddy delight.

Frog and Toad doubled over in laughter, in a sudden burst of euphoric energy.

“You know, Toad,” chuckled Frog, with his mouth full, “I think we should stop eating. We will soon be sick from laughter.”

“You are right,” said Toad. “Let us eat one last berry and then we will stop.”

Frog and Toad ate one last berry. There were many berries left in the box.

“Frog,” said Toad. “let us eat one very last berry, and then we will stop.”

Toad struggled to take a berry out of the box.

“Frog!” cried Toad. “Tell the berries to stop moving.”

“They are not moving,” mumbled Frog.

Toad’s eyes rolled in the back of his head.

Frog and Toad ate one very last berry. 

“We must stop eating!” cried Toad as he ate another. “I feel like bugs are crawling under my skin. I can’t breathe.” 

“Yes,” slurred Frog, looking hungrily through dilated pupils at the bowl of crackberries, “we need will power.”

“What is will power?” asked Toad.

“Will power is trying hard not to do something that you really want to do,” said Frog.

“You mean like trying not to eat all of these berries?” asked Toad.

“Right,” said Frog. Frog stumbled to the countertop, his hands fumbling to take hold of a box.

Frog put the berries in a box. 

“There,” he said. “Now we will not eat any more berries.”

“But we can open the box,” said Toad.

“That is true,” said Frog.

Frog tried to tie some string around the box. “Toad, the string is moving.”

After a bit, he was able to tie a clumsy knot.

“There,” he said. “Now we will not eat any more berries.”

“Bu we can cut the string and open the box,” said Toad. 

“That is true,” said Frog.

Frog got a ladder, which almost toppled over him. 

“Toad, could you climb the ladder? I do not have enough energy.”

“No,” groaned Toad, sprawled on the sofa. “I am too sleepy.”

Frog sighed loudly. As he tried to climb up the ladder, his hands twitching, Frog shrieked and fell onto the ground.

He put the box up on a high shelf. 

“There,” said Frog. “Now we will not eat any more cookies.”

“But we can climb the ladder and take the box down from the shelf and cut the string and open the box,” said Toad.

“That is true,” said Frog.

Frog climbed the ladder and took the box down from the shelf. He cut the string and opened the box. Frog took the box outside.

“Wait, no!” Toad cried. “The birds will get sick from the berries.”

“That is true,” said Frog.

He set the berries on the ground, and stepped on them. 

“Now we have no more berries to eat,” said Toad sadly. “Not even one.”

“Yes,” said Frog, “but we have lots and lots of will power.” 

“You may keep it all, Frog,” said Toad. “I am going home now to bake potberry brownies.”

[theydontknowaboutusimagines]

13 Nights of Halloween #11 - Halloween Party with the Kids

“Do you need help?” You asked looking up at Harry who was standing on a ladder putting up the orange lights in the backyard. 

“No, I’ve got it,” he groaned. “It’s just these bloody things won’t stay up.” 

“Well, maybe we need to put them somewhere else,” you said. 

“It won’t look right if there isn’t a strand here,” he said. “I need to move closer.” 

He walked down the ladder and moved it closer to the edge. 

“Mumma! When everyone gonna be here?” your son asked looking up at you anxiously. 

“In a few hours,” you said softly. 

He whined and stomped his little foot. “Why so long!” 

“Because we still have to set everything up and then get ready,” you smiled. 

“Daddy take too long,” he mumbled. 

“I heard that!” Harry said clearly offended from up on the ladder. 

You laughed shaking your head, “Just finished the lights and get down from there. We don’t a trip to the hospital.” 

“I’m almost done,” he said. 

“Want to help me with some of the snacks?” You asked your son. 

“We eat them?” He gasped. 

“No,” you giggled. “We have to make them and save them for the party.” 

He groaned, “Its gonna be forever from now.” 

“Not too much longer, I promise,” you laughed taking him inside. 

**

A few hours later, you were all in your costumes and setting the food out. You all had dressed up as the Incredible family for your first Halloween party... for kids. Ever since you and Harry had gotten together you hosted, when possible, a Halloween party for all of your friends. Usually, the entire house would be decked out like a Haunted House with tons of food and alcohol.

Those parties were some of the best ones you had ever attended if you do say so yourself. However, after you two had gotten married and started having kids, you stopped, but now that the kids were a little older, you decided on starting up the tradition. But now, the house was decorated like a child-friendly Halloween Funhouse with tons of treats, snacks, and juice boxes. 

There were also games like bobbing for apples, what’s in the box, face painting, and a bouncy house. 

“WOW!” The kids cheered when you brought them out to the backyard while holding Jack-Jack, well your six-month-old son Mick dressed as Jack-Jack. 

“This so cool!”  your 5-year-old daughter, Sydney said. 

“Yeah! We do this all time?” William asked. 

“How about just every Halloween,” you laughed. 

“I have to say we did pretty well,” Harry smiled wrapping his arms around you. 

“Especially since it’s been about six years since our last one,” you said. 

“Let’s just hope everyone else feels the same way,” he smiled. 

You nodded knowing that practically everyone who used to attend the parties was now all attending with their families. It still felt weird knowing that you and all of your friends were old enough to have families of your own, and most had multiple babies. 

Sydney and William quickly ran over to the bouncy house to “test” it out before all the other kids arrived. You laughed before walking over to the food table and making sure everything was out. Harry took baby Mick from you as went to the front door for once everyone started arriving. 

And it didn’t take long before they did. Soon all of your friends and their kids arrived and the kids went crazy over everything. There were plenty at the bouncy house.  A ton trying to bob for apples, a few were getting their face painted, including some of the adults, and then, of course, the treats and other snacks were about half gone. 

You and Harry took turns mingling through the crowd while holding the baby and you would occasionally find your two other children and smile seeing a huge smile on their faces.  While you taking pictures of them, Harry snuck up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist, well the best he could with the fake muscles of Mr. Incredible. 

You laughed, “Um, aren’t you missing someone?” 

“Don’t worry, Mick’s with Glenne,” he said. “I wanted some alone time with my wife.” 

He kissed your cheek and you smiled. “So, it seems everyone’s having a great time.” 

“I know, I’m glad,” you smiled. “It’s making me wish we didn’t wait so long before doing another party. I’ve missed it.” 

“Me too,” he smiled. “Although, I think next year... we should maybe pick a night to bring back the adult party. I kinda miss the drunk karaoke moments and seeing you in a sexy costume,” he smirked. 

You rolled your eyes, “You would.” 

“Can you blame me?” He laughed. 

“Mumma, Daddy! Come on!” Sydney said walking up. “Let’s go play games.” 

She pulled on both of your arms and you both laughed as you followed her, enjoying the rest of the night at your family-friendly party. 

[ladderslibrary]

Explore  Wide Range Of Stylish Bookcases In Sydney - Wide Range & Quality

Discover the best bookcases Sydney has to offer. Browse our collection of stylish, functional bookcases designed to enhance your home or office. Visit us online to find the perfect piece for your space!

[melbournenewsvine]

Where to watch Selling in the City online in Australia

Watch experts elevate homes so they meet their true real estate potential. You can watch Australia’s hottest new design duo – Rosie Morley and Paddy Milne – in Selling in the City. She specialises in interior design, he deals with landscaping. Together, they tackle some of Australia’s most in-demand inner-city properties, looking to maximise their value. That’s the premise of Selling in the City, a fresh (and local) real estate series that should be a treat for genre fans. When does Selling in the City come out? The series premieres in Australia on Wednesday 19 October with 3 episodes. Double episodes will roll weekly after that. How to watch Selling in the City in Australia An original production, Selling in the City is available on streaming service BINGE. Sign up and enjoy 14 days for free. Subscriptions to BINGE start at $10 a month once your 2 free weeks are up. Recent highlights on BINGE include Supernatural spin-off The Winchesters, docuseries House of Hammer and hyped Game of Thrones prequel House of the Dragon. Stream BINGE for 14 days FREE and no lock-in contract Test out BINGE’s Basic, Standard or Premium plan and stream 10,000+ hours of shows and movies on demand. You can also watch Selling in the City with Foxtel iQ. The series premieres on Wednesday 19 October at 8:30pm AEDT on LifeStyle or you can watch on demand. LifeStyle is included in the Foxtel Plus channel pack, which is available to all subscribers. Alternatively, you can stream Selling in the City with Foxtel Now. LifeStyle is part of the Essentials pack, priced at $25 a month. If you’re new to the service, you get a 10-day free trial. 10-day free trial of Foxtel Now No installation and no lock-in contract. New customers only. Sign up now. Selling in the City preview Selling in the City centres on designer Rosie Morley and landscape artist Paddy Milne, who work together to bring in-demand city properties to a whole new level. Their main purpose? Per the official description, they hope to help “young millennials maximise the value of their property to achieve their dream of climbing the property ladder.” Given the current economic climate, that’s… not an easy thing to do. Pesky reality aside, the pair will spend time in each local community, hoping to figure out what potential buyers could love about the area and making sure that they put their best foot forward when transforming the homes. In other words, this is a show about how to increase the market value of a property by using clever design solutions. Suburbs featured in season 1 of the show include Newtown and Leichhardt in Sydney, Fitzroy and South Melbourne in Melbourne and Woolloongabba in Brisbane. Expect cutting-edge ideas, beautiful gardens and stunning end results. If you love renovation series, Selling in the City is not to miss. Selling in the City episode release schedule Selling in the City episode 1 – 19 October Selling in the City episode 2 – 19 October Selling in the City episode 3 – 19 October Selling in the City episode 4 – 26 October Selling in the City episode 5 – 26 October Selling in the City episode 6 – 2 November Selling in the City episode 7 – 2 November Selling in the City episode 8 – 9 November Selling in the City trailer Learn more about BINGE via our dedicated BINGE review. Or, feel free to compare more streaming services here. Source link Originally published at Melbourne News Vine

[redsoapbox]

Two More Acts Confirmed for Have Yourself a Merry Indie Christmas

Following the news yesterday that bis and Green Seagull will be contributing songs to Have Yourself a Merry Indie Christmas, my fundraising album for Crisis, I can confirm two more names today. 

The first is Jack Ladder and the Dreamlanders. 

The ‘shapeshifting gloom merchant’ Tim Rogers, aka Jack Ladder.

The Guardian reviewed the Sydney combo’s album Hijack! last year and summed up the band in fine style: ‘Since 2005 the towering, baritone-voiced Ladder has released five albums, spanning spindly folk, jittery-60s blues rock, gothic electro-pop, crooning new-wave and chintzy synth tunes. Each expertly nails a sound and atmosphere, before being discarded wholesale for the next. Terrible moves for building a fanbase in a small market. But those who stick with Ladder’s universe find a cult devoted to the clever arrangements, startling sounds, hidden hooks and uneasy dissonance of an archetypal gloom merchant interrogating his trope with dry wit’. 

Huge thanks to the band for contributing “Xmas in Rehab”, which is taken from Hijack!

Here is the man in action with ‘I Can’t Drink the Water’.

https://jackladder.bandcamp.com/

The second confirmed act of the day are Seattle’s The Green Pajamas. 

The Green Pajamas formed in the spring of 1984 when Jeff Kelly and Joe Ross recorded and released their first album, Summer of Lust, pioneering Seattle’s answer to the Los Angeles Paisley Underground scene.

Bucketful of Brains had this to say about the band back in 1987 – ‘The Pajamas somehow manage to sound like they are holding two kaleidoscopes side by side and are using them to see the future of rock ’n’ roll’. While I’m still trying to grasp that thought-provoking concept, there is little doubt that it’s a darned intriguing claim, and there is no doubt at all that “I Wish That It Was Christmas” is an absolute barnstormer of a track.

Summer of Lust was the first of 30 albums the band punched out up until 2018’s Phantom Lake: Northern Gothic 3. “I Wish That It Was Christmas” was originally released in 1984, but the version that will appear on the album is taken from the Green Monkey Xmas compilation Christmas Boogie Woogie released in 2019.

Here’s the band firmly in the groove on “The Way I Feel About You”

https://thegreenpajamas1.bandcamp.com/

Two more tomorrow folks!

[erinaaustralia]

Country Estate In A Tranquil Setting

[blendergallery]

⚡️On this day, 8th August 1969, 52 years ago! The date of one of the most famous photo-shoots in rock 'n' roll history. 🙌 (with a bit of a funny in the end shot 😷) John Lennon, Paul McCartney, George Harrison and Ringo Starr walk over the zebra crossing next to Abbey Road studios. The photo session for the cover of The Beatles 'Abbey Road' album was taken by photographer Iain McMillan, who balanced on a step-ladder in the middle of the road took six shots of John, Ringo, Paul, and George walking across the zebra crossing while a policeman held up the traffic. The band then returned to the studio and recorded overdubs on ‘The End’, ‘I Want You (She's So Heavy)’ and ‘Oh! Darling’. When released in 1969 the cover of The Beatles Abbey Road album supposedly contained clues adding to the ‘Paul Is Dead’ phenomenon: Paul is barefoot and the car number plate ‘LMW 281F’ supposedly referred to the fact that McCartney would be 28 years old if he was still alive. ‘LMW’ was said to stand for ‘Linda McCartney Weeps.’ And the four Beatles, represent; the priest (John, dressed in white), the Undertaker (Ringo in a black suit), the Corpse (Paul, in a suit but barefoot), and the Gravedigger (George, in jeans and a denim work shirt). Fun fact - suits made by Tommy Nutter and Edward Sexton - “Nutters of Savile Row” 👔 The image of the Beatles on the crossing is clearly one of the most famous and imitated photographs of all time: Abbey Road, The Beatles, The LP Cover by © Iain MacMillan ✌️❤️🎵 #thebeatles #abbeyroad #johnlennon #paulmccartney #georgeharrison #ringostarr #iainmacmillan #beatles #rockandroll #legendsneverdie #rockroyalty #pedestrian #london #abbeyroadstudios #musichistory #nuttersofsavilerow #musicphotography #styleicon #style #sixties #muse #lockdown #sydney #wearamask #1969 #rocknroll #blendergallery (at Blender Gallery) https://www.instagram.com/p/CSTRJmuHrxl/?utm_medium=tumblr