#supplies outlet

[spirk-trek]

:(

[tomatoluvr69]

Post-Helene diary 10/16/2024. (As a general warning, lots of talk about death, including children)

Life (in the city at least) is slowly inching back to normal. I’m still out of work. Schools will be closed at least a month, all told. And it’s getting cold. An outlying town a stone’s throw north of the city, where I have a couple friends, got snow last night; one of them slept on our couch. Still no running water, signal is still fucked, and the power goes on and off. But having power is such a luxury, so you can boil the water you bring home and microwave and refrigerate food. Still struggling with morale, but getting more and more able to get out of bed & take care of myself, and forcing myself to be around people when I can, which really helps. Hoping to host a movie night maybe this weekend, we’re all super fried and it’d be nice to gather in a super low-stakes way.

Had a burial yesterday. The man was shrouded, and lowering him into his grave meant touching his body through thin fibers. He died on the third of October, a couple days after the storm, so not a drowning death, but I’m not sure what the cause was. The family was able to be present for this one, and the ceremony moved me, I’m so profoundly honored to have had the opportunity to do this through no merit of my own. It’s good work, to which I feel well-suited. But it’s strange to shovel dirt onto the decedent while his wife and children look on. They were all new to ecoburial, the man hadn’t chosen it the way many in the sanctuary have; it’s what’s called an at-need plot (and folks, WNC is at need right now, lol). You could tell that the informality and wooded surrounds of the setting unsettled them at first, but the way things are done there is far more ancient and meaningful than at a conventional lawn cemetery, with its mandatory cement vaults, embalming fluids, and non-biodegradable casket materials, and we encouraged people come up to lay soil, aerate the first layer with sticks to aid in microbial access, fill in more soil if they wished and lay pine straw over the finished mound for erosion control and seed germination. I believe strongly in ecoburial’s capacity for closure, that seeing the shrouded body be covered, and being involved in digging and closing the grave, or pallbearing/lowering the decedent, can be a powerful way to process death. People used to/still do die at home. People wash their loved ones’ bodies, braid their hair, burn incense over them, sew them into shrouds, lay them out unembalmed and unrefrigerated in their own homes; in 21st century America we are cold strangers to death— everything happens behind steel doors. (Even hearses are outmoded— odds are you’ve driven down the highway next to a Toyota Sienna or somesuch that’s been retrofitted to transport bodies to and from funeral homes, hospitals, mortuaries, crematories, and burial grounds, and you had no idea.) Ecoburial removes this gulf, and I believe it’s especially crucial in the aftermath of the wide-scale death and destruction our region has seen. But the cemetery is tiny, and can only take a sliver of the storm’s dead— only a couple plots remain unsold. The admin was looking at purchasing more land, but the woman at the helm of that drowned with her entire family in a flash flood.

A girl we know works/worked at a mortuary that was along the river— drove by there the other day on my way home, the obliteration is eerie, they were gutting it for demo. Driving near any river right now still has the surreal, gloatingly detached feeling of a soundless dream, especially along roads you took all the time before the flood. The building had been nondescript before, just a medium warehouse looking structure with vinyl siding. But the bodies stored inside went unrefrigerated and were exposed to floodwaters, an aspect of the disaster few people without contacts or experience in deathcare would consider. Imagine the times you’ve been grieving a family member— now imagine phones are off, the mortuary’s been obliterated, and you’re stranded in your building for a week with no information or answers.

Found out about the death of a little boy, first or second grade, who attended one of the schools whose students I work with. He wasn’t my student, just a classmate of some of mine, but I still find myself really broken up over it. He was around the same age as [best friend]’s coworker’s boys, 7 and 9, who drowned in [outlying county], and I know they’re not mine to grieve— but working with so many kids in that exact age range in our community i’m so acutely aware of the caliber of loss. It hits me in these overpowering waves. Nobody in Appalachia knew to fear a hurricane, you know? Life here has shifted tremendously.

After the burial, we ate some cold lunches and a random packet of imported Japanese grape candies, joking grimly and catching up on an out-of-the-way bench near an Iranian woman’s grave and a couple adelgid-ridden hemlocks, where we wouldn’t be heard by the lingering members of the funeral party. Then, donned chaps and ear pro/eye pro to buck a bunch of trees downed by the storm around the land. I like chainsawing, but I lost a ton of physical strength after my ribcage fracture this summer, and I definitely feel it when doing manual labor. The difference is palpable. But bucking is easy, it requires no brainpower, and my friends just told me which trees to cut, while they worried about tension and felling. But both burials and saw work is quite physical and my stamina is beyond shot— definitely felt it today. And I got fucking DOMS in my back!!!!???? lmao. Hung low most of the morning because my volunteer childcare thing got canceled— it stormed, of all fucking things.

It’s getting cold. It’ll dip below freezing tomorrow night, and my window’s still out; I may sleep on the couch in the living room, which sucks, but I’m gripped by severe fear for all the people in the region who have nowhere to go; when I drove with my friend through his neighborhood in Swannanoa we saw families whose prefab/mobile homes got swept down the river, gone forever and destroyed, camped out in tents along the riverbank. Tens of thousands are still lacking power and gas to heat their homes— we are in the south, but we are up in the highest mountains in the entire eastern US. People will be unable to clean themselves because washcloth baths will be untenable in the cold. People will freeze to death in their homes, tents, and cars. It just feels like wave after wave of horror keeps hitting the region. Even though life begins to be bearable for those of us in the city— groceries, internet! Showers at the YMCA!— you cannot enjoy it amid the destruction. It’s a really weird feeling to be one of the lucky ones. Just sheer dumb luck. There’s no wrapping your head around it, when old classmates lost family and watched as their homes were swept away, their farm animals drowned. Survivor’s guilt is fucking insane. It’s really insane.

Though I’m worried about what two months’ rent and utilities is gonna be like without any work, my morale is slowly ratcheting upwards. Three of my friends are leaving the city forever in the upcoming weeks, which is a tremendous blow. One of my favorite haunts, the indie cinema in the river arts district, was obliterated beyond repair— I nearly cried seeing those photos. I’ll be stuck watching Joker and Beetlejuice sequels at the fucking Cinemark forever now I guess. And the Blue Ridge Parkway, where I went to run and camp and drive and picnic, is closed indefinitely. But I believe that many of my other frequent haunts will come back, unless, like many of the businesses dependent on a tourist economy in the height of leaf season, they crumble financially. But the tiny little cinema is a huge loss. We fucking adored that place. And you could tell it was the product of its owners’ passion and love, and filled with character, quirk, and charm. Truly no idea how different life here will be over the next months and years. Definitely altered— but how much? I can’t imagine living in Marshall, or having a studio in the RAD, or working in Swannanoa. Again, I’m so lucky. But it’s gonna be a really hard couple of months and years here.

The long and short of it is that life is getting easier for some of us, myself included, and though the trauma is at times genuinely incapacitating— I feel as though I am crawling towards feeling better. Being able to shower and launder my clothing in my own home will be huge, but still weeks away by the sound of things. I’m really wary of the coming months but cautiously optimistic— I am starting to feel alive again, and enjoy things, and think about things that aren’t potable water access, and the drowned. But it will take time to recover. To give some context, to Americans at least— think of what would need to happen for your public schools to shutter for an entire month, county wide (I don’t know much at this point about the surrounding counties’ schools, some will start earlier, some are still fucked indefinitely). All that being said, though, it is beginning to get easier. And I have people to lean on, and the capacity to hold up others when they lean on me. My home is intact and I have shelves full of food, and a stovetop to cook it on. And I watched a movie a few days ago! We’re crawling out of it bitches.

Ok, I have to go haul flush water now, lmao, time to drive my reeking whip around to a bunch of ramshackle old baptist churches in the area to see which ones still have big unmanned water totes in their parking lots. How does it feel to help a member of the LGBT community!!!!!!

[plushie-lovey]

Alright so. I'm getting into junk journaling. At least, I'm going to try to! I have a plan to start myself off with 2, one for personal/random shit so I don't feel so confined, and one focused on my plushies!! Not every one of my plushies will get a page but I will dedicate a page to whoever inspires me in a particular moment. I may not share every page right away. But if I fill in an entire journal I will try to show the finished results of what I created! I will also be doing this at my leisure because this new hobby is an outlet for my creatively and mainly my emotions. Shout out to @ cafe-mouse for inspiring me

[mars-ipan]

I think priest au hinata working at an auto shop is good... similarly: consider him working at one of those farm supply stores as a stocker or something. Close enough to farm work and also would give him a reason to be beefy heh. Maybe he got a job there by his relation to someone else, his parents, idk.... small town shenanigans. It is also probably a really homophobic environment with all the religious farmers coming in for seed or tractor components... perfect place for the tragic woobie to be more tortured and repressed 🤠

oh that’s actually really tempting bc i imagine he eventually gets into gardening (both bc i like mice’s idea of him tending to the church’s flowerbeds and bc i like gardener!hajime in general). and he can buy his seeds from there….

some farmer from the next town over sees him browsing flower seeds and asks if he’s “some sort of faggot” in that “i’m-serious-but-if-you-get-offended-i’ll-pretend-i-was-joking” way and it fucks with him for the rest of the week. he’s like “how did he Know….. DID he know ???”

[caterjunes]

fixing our leaky shower diverter now (the toggle that switches the bathtub faucet to shower)

[marsixm]

i wish i could post the bulletin board i designed without doxing myself it looks so cool im so proud of myself rn

[sassmill]

Getting silly little desk things to set up a workspace for my intern is so fun I hope she feels welcome in this unique hellscape we all call home for 35 hours a week

[echoesofdusk]

I think the absolutely most baffling thing to me that I've noticed in the AI generated image discourse is that people seem to think that artists don't make any compromises or sacrifices ever and live perfect, comfortable lives where things just happen to align perfectly for them to have the time to create art that perfectly aligns with their vision

"I don't have the time to draw" do you really know if artists simply have the time to draw or on the contrary, have to sacrifice something to gain that time to draw? can you be so sure that they don't have to deal with hardships to gain the time to draw? or, they have the time to draw because they can't do something else in their lives due to their circumstances, and drawing is the only thing that will fill this time?

"I can't create stuff that meets my vision" how can you be so sure that the stuff artists create meets their vision? do you really think this art was their vision from the absolute beginning? or did they actually have to make compromises to reach this specific look, which maybe wasn't what they aimed for to begin with? can you even be sure if the medium they spend the most time on is the medium they intended to pick up from the beginning, or is it a medium they've had to pick up to compromise for not picking up another art form they wanted to stick to in the first place due to myriads of reasons?

you folks seem to make a lot of assumptions about people you don't personally know

[anxiously-going]

On the one hand, having a strict dress code for work is nice because it takes out decision fatigue, on the other this is the first time this week I haven't gotten dressed for work and now I'm all decked out and my total plans are pick up dog food and go to the park.

[halfspunthreads-blog]

I was gifted a new seam ripper recently. It's very nice. Ergonomic, good stainless so it'll hold its edge, and even a cute color. Overall, 10/10 thoughtful gift.

But I'm sorry, I'm going to keep using my cracked, cheap little ripper that I've been using since high school for any personal projects. The seam ripper and I share an emotional connection. I have sobbed with rage while using that thing. It has seen me giggle while taking out the seams for a pregnant friend's pants. It has sat there and NOT been used for a project that went perfectly for the first time.

I don't care if it's falling apart and hurts my hands to use. I'm emotionally bonded to my garbage tool.

[bg-sparrow]

I HAVE MADE A CHARM BRACELET WITH A PROPER CLASP. Two days ago, I’d only ever played with pony beads. This is hyperfocus at its finest! I have tomorrow off from work, so I’ll be making lots more of these and hopefully have my full #bttfbffs line-up ready by Sunday! This community never fails to inspire me!

(How could I NOT make a Copernicus bracelet with this button??)

[rosicheeks]

Yeah I said you do you cuz... Well who the fuck am I to tell you not to ya know? Go off tag queen. Run them tags🤙🏻 I love reading it all honestly I was just curious and wanted to peck your brain on it. I hope the night is treating you well. I love your vibe. You deserve someone to match it and run tag shit with you 😌

🤞 here’s to hoping I find someone to run tag shit with me 🤞

[binyaking]

Life good again. Saw a glimpse of heaven at a bus stop above the powerlines

[ukonlinebathroomstore]

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[prabhaelectronics]

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