#Used Cooking Oil Collection Service

[greasecollections-blog]

Reliable used cooking oil collection & pickup Services in Chicago, IL. Eco-friendly solutions for waste cooking oil. Call Grease Collection at (855) 519-5550 now!

[grandnaturalincoc]

Are you looking for a used cooking oil collection company in Stockton? Grand Natural Inc collect and recycle all types of used cooking oil. Contact us today!

[laceyfaeryy]

MDNI 18+

SIMON RILEY DISPLAYING ALL FIVE LOVE LANGUAGES

౨��⠀ׄ⠀. ━ simon riley displays all five love languages to his luvie

words of affirmation

simon was not good with words, but with you it was different. he wanted to tell you how perfect you were, how pretty and kind hearted you were to a scarred man like him. it first started off a little rough and awkward, him blurting it out. “yer look pretty.” the way you smiled shyly with your cheeks tinged a soft pink colour made him want to repeat it like a mantra. he didn’t care that it was random, how you were in your pyjamas at 2pm whilst stuffing your face with the leftovers from last night. you still looked utterly perfect in his eyes.

the way you seemed to glow with confidence after a few days after from his words made his ego swell. simon had you doing small clothing hauls after your shopping trips, making you spin with the new dresses. “you gotta get it in another colour luvie, you look perfect.” it would be small compliments here and there, or some more intimidate ones. you cuddled up in his bed whilst he whispered soft words to you, his calloused hand gently rubbed your back when you told him about your struggles. “yer doin’ so well luvie, toughest girl i know.”

simon treated sex like a sacred thing, gently whispering soft words into your ear as he plunged deep inside your small cunt, snuggly fitting around him. “my pretty luvie, perfect for me, your body, your face, your heart.”

physical touch

never in simon’s life did he think he would be a needy man, but here he is craving your touch constantly. it somehow seamlessly seeped into his routine, reaching out for your hand whilst the two of you walked on the street, constantly having his arms around your waist at the small local bars, or casually touching your thigh when you sat next to him. sometimes it felt like having a constant shadow around you. “hurry up and get to bed luvie, ‘s cold without you.”

sometimes his touches were intentional and not the ones he did just casually without thinking. he took extra care of you during sex, his calloused hands gently rubbing over your soft thighs and plush hips, like he was trying to engrave it into his memory. it felt like a sin having his hands who were responsible for the darkest things when he was in the military, and yet he couldn’t help but to worship your body.

acts of service

though simon loved using his words and hands to show his love to you, he was a strong believer in actions are louder than words. hence why he tried to make your life a little easier, even if it seamed a little mundane. he would have your coffee prepared early in the morning when you had to leave for work, just so you could have a little more time in bed sleeping. or he would have a nice relaxing bath prepared after you came home, essential oils and candles filling up the bathroom. simon loved your independence, but sometimes it annoyed him. having you come home all tired just for you to insist cleaning up the house. “i’ve got it luvie, go and relax yeah? let me take care of you.”

quality time

after deployment and first spending time without you during the early months in your relationship, simon realised how much he needed you around him. you didn’t need to be snugged up right by him - not that he minded at all, but even having you around him like being in the same room. you reading your book on the lounge whilst simon cleaned his collection of small knives. it was your presence that mattered the most. simon considered anything a days watching a movie on the couch? date. cooking dinner together? date. simon didn’t care what you were doing, as long as you were with him. he tried to turn small boring activities like housekeeping into something meaningful. the two of you opening up your deepest secrets and bonding through something small simple was something simon never took for granted.

gift giving

simon made tremendous amount of money in the military, and he was never one to splurge on himself, but on you? he didn’t even have for think twice. you would often ask him about what to get, holding up to dresses, “which one si?” he had no idea why you were even asking him, without saying anything he took them out of your hands and walked to the cashier. he loved spoiling his bird, having you all pampered and taken care of was something that he took great pride in. though it wasn’t something mindless, as much as simon loved spoiling you and buying whatever your heart desired, many of his purchases had intentions. like the pink to go coffee mug so you can take your coffee with you to work, or the heated blanket because he noticed how you snuggled deep into the blankets during the cold winter nights. essentially, simon was an attentive man to his bird’s needs.

tag list:

@happysmappy @mydickishuge560 @dolli333 @madebyyicarus @l-otti @butlerslut @vampwifee @i-wanabe-yours @bluebarrybubblez @cinnamongrl2006 @akkahelenaa @yanfeiiiiii @actualpoppy @lilyalone @other-fandoms-reblogs @goonette6969 @doubledizzy22 @lucienofthelakes @arabellatreaty @tessakate @kayden666 @ghostsd8s @ama-eve @webmvie @your-internet-tenshi @novthewolf @1ilo @simpingreader @angeldoll1e @avgdestitute @anonymouse1807 @chaieanne @i-live-in-spite

[plasticfreckles]

🪶 treasure hoard rookanis enjoy 🪶

It's starting to feel cluttered, in his back corner of the pantry. All light sources are transferred to overturned produce crates or candlenails on the walls.

By his head, his favored coffee cups. If he has them here, the others won't break them accidentally.

To his feet, his ever-growing collection of gifts from Rook. Not large enough for a dragon hoard, not small enough for assorted presents.

A Wyvern Hoard, then.

The tea service. He doesn't even like tea, but she hadn't known that back then.

The wyvern tooth dagger he doesn't dare to bring along to jobs for fear of losing it or worse, damaging it.

The basket of dyed druffalo yarn, untouched save for the bright blue bundle, to knit a wrapsweater for her.

A small box of trinkets for Spite to rifle through when he is asleep.

Books she finds and thinks of him. Those she borrows and then returns, along with long lists of annotations about the most random aspects of the stories.

A brown tourmaline, whittled to resemble a coffee bean and put on a small-linked golden chain that Lucanis hasn't the heart to tell Rook is too short for his neck.

Grindstones tailored to the materials of each of his blades, numerous cutting oils.

The ribbon she got him specifically to tie his hair out of the way while cooking.

Flowers.

Flowers?

Blue buds sit in a tall glass, trimmed and watered and arranged with care, fallen petals folded over the rim of the glass.

Smell like milk thistle. And Rook. Healing and chocolate. Blight and pain. Rook got flowers.

They weren't here when he last left the pantry, no half-hour ago.

"Lucanis, I could use your- are you all right?"

When he turns to look at Rook, suddenly spawned in the doorframe, he realizes he'd stood uselessly, listlessly, in the middle of the pantry. Whatever help she meant to ask of him is forgotten, as she steps closer and rubs his arm.

Sometimes it gives him whiplash, how quickly their attentions toward one another shifted, how casually she reaches for him now and how eagerly he turns into her touch.

"Did you get me flowers?"

"Yeah." Like he was stating the color of the moon. "I got them from the Wetlands. Antoine and Evka tracked down somebody who could help find the Gloom Howler. Davrin wanted to talk to them." A pause. She looks him square in the face and he can't rein in his expression.

She'd gotten him flowers.

No one has ever gotten him flowers. Flowers that grow strong and beautiful in spite of their environment. Flowers in the very shade of blue she paints her nails with. Flowers that heal.

Rook saw a plant in the wild and thought of him.

He feels dizzy, all of a sudden.

"Brona's Bloom," she says. Scratches at the side of her neck, picking at a scab. Stalling. Hoping that explaining herself will make him react. "They grow there like weeds now. You're not allergic, right? Maybe I should've asked before, but... I wanted to surprise you. I thought you'd appreciate some flowers."

Her fingers squeeze at his arm. Her voice sounds like she's whispering at him from underwater.

When he stills, takes a breath, then another, looks down at her, her brow is knotted with concern and her head tilted.

"Sorry," he starts. Honesty. He didn't want to worry her. "No one's given me flowers before. Thank you."

"Well, I didn't really give them to you. I snuck into your room while you were in the bath and placed them there. Turns out this place doesn't have vases, so I had to improvise. Emmrich let me borrow one of his alchemy jars. He wants it back once they're wilted."

If Lucanis has his way, these flowers will never wilt for the rest of eternity. He knows a glass blower off the Rialto Bay who crystallizes flowers by each petal. There's an idea.

"You took the time to arrange them among my treasured gifts of yours so they would catch my eye when I return."

"They kind of glow, so they would've caught your eye without-"

"Rook." There's a surprised gasp from her when he pulls her close and pecks her cheekbone. "Thank you. This is a gift."

Her fingers slide into his left welt pocket, as they always do. Keeping him close, only a few thin layers between her hand and his stomach, but also loose enough to let him leave.

He's glad she's leaning against his side, covering his right pocket. If she put her fingers there, she would find the earrings he had made for her.

Her arm around the small of his back is cold. Soup for dinner, then. There's still some vegetable broth leftover. Maybe herbcakes to cut up into it. WHY IS SHE COLD? THE WHOLE ROOK IS COLD. He'll fix it. Warm soup for dinner, then blankets and the fireplace as he knits the demon away and she reads the romance he'd swiped from Blackthorne Manor. Maybe he'll pull over one of the seats, and they can share the blanket over their legs.

Spite, draping an arm over Rook's shoulders and leaning his cheek on her head, rolls his eyes at Lucanis until the prospect of entangled legs under wool covers.

"You're welcome, Lucanis," she says. Her chin presses into his ribs. "I'll get you flowers more often. Condition you to no longer be so frozen with surprise."

It makes him laugh. He leans down to kiss her.

"You say that as if you didn't like making me freeze with surprise." Her hand slips out of his pocket, toward his face. She pets his Adam's apple with her thumb. She traps his upper lip between hers. Spite moves a hand through her hair, and she shivers and presses closer.

"I do. I enjoy it thoroughly."

"Come on," he entangles them from each other, reluctantly, and Rook lets it happen just as reluctantly. She leans into Spite's fingertips on her scalp, whether she knows it or not.

But the sight is so enchanting Lucanis forgets why he pulled them apart in the first place.

🪶

[whispers in sten dragon age origins] the treasure hoard was a lie

something something crows offering gifts

you can pick up like 5 bouquets of brona's bloom in the wetlands and so my mind went "penguin pebble the wet eye man". men should get flowers too.

also ive been craving kräuterflädle for weeks now but i don't have the energy to make any and somehow no store within reasonable distance has them anymore all of a sudden.

@lanafofana this is a lil like what we talked about, maybe?

@chubritza our chat is comedy gold <3

[~rina]

[castieltrash1]

I'm desperate for any content with Driver or K, maybe just how'd they treat you as their partner? Love your work!!

driver is a bit of a chameleon boyfriend. he’s used to blending in and attracting as little attention as possible, which extends to his personal life. whatever you’re interested in, so is he. if you like to eat somewhere, he’ll suggest that place every time you mention being hungry. as long as you are happy, that’s all that really matters to him. if you want to plan dates, he’ll follow your schedule down to the second. and if you’re more spontaneous, he’ll have his jacket and car keys nearby to take you wherever you want. 

he’s protective, of course, but he also loves seeing you be successful in whatever endeavors you pursue in life. whether that’s a mundane 9-5 or a niche passion that doesn’t pay the bills, he will cheer you on for every milestone you cross. ideally, he’d take care of you in every way that matters (financially, emotionally, mentally, physically, etc.) but he doesn’t want to stifle you, either. that doesn’t mean he won’t silently fix any of your problems behind your back, though! bitchy manager bothering you? you’ll never believe it, but she switched locations! low on rent? you must’ve forgotten those couple hundred dollar bills you left haphazardly tucked between your mattress! too tired to cook dinner? well, your boyfriend just texted saying he’s off work and would love to grab something and swing by your place to eat!

safe to say, one of his love languages is acts of service. including the ones you don’t know about, he takes care of every problem in your life. he’ll catch every bug, fix every leaky sink, install your new curtains, reconnect your router, change your oil, etc. speaking of cars, if you’re insistent on driving yourself everywhere, driver will check your car every five seconds to make sure it’s safe.

+ driver isn’t big on pda, but if you’ve just arrived or are leaving, he will pout without a kiss hello or goodbye. if you forget (or purposely avoid for the sake of teasing) either, he’ll follow you, grab your wrist, and use his other hand to hold your jaw steady while he kisses you. only then will he smile, let go, and pretend nothing happened.

-

OFFICER K UNDER THE CUT!

k can be insecure, sometimes. he knows it’s already hard enough dating a replicant, but his dangerous job doesn’t make it any easier. all he has to offer you is his plain apartment and the nights he’s not working, neither of which he finds particularly appealing. he’s not really sure why you like him, but he’ll be damned if he gives you any reason to break it off. every second that he can devote to you, he does. 

since he’s out in the city most of the time, k enjoys spending time indoors. of course, if you want to go anywhere while he’s home, he’ll be stuck to your side like glue, glaring at anyone who even gives you a second glance. but, what he loves most of all is curling up beside you and listening to the rainfall. nothing makes him feel more human than doing nothing for the sole purpose of it. he’s made to perform tasks, so there’s something rebellious about enjoying the silence of your apartment, counting each beat of your heart, and feeling the warmth of your skin against the synthetic of his. knowing that he doesn’t have to service you or offer anything for you to want to spend time with him makes him ecstatic.

while k can’t afford lavish gifts or, really, much at all, he does come into contact with a large collection of rare items at work. he’s always excited to bring evidence home since he knows you’ll get a kick out of seeing and touching a real flower or piece of wood. while the scarcity of the item intrigues him, he doesn’t have the same desire to connect to humanity’s past the way you, understandably, do. where he sees just another part of an ongoing case, you see years of ancestry and a forgotten world. secretly, the excited glint in your eyes has started to make him feel something similar.

+ k loves pet names. the first time you called him babe/baby, he stilled and stared at you in shock. he’d heard humans referring to other humans that way, but the names people usually called him were very different. whenever you call him a pet name, he smiles, almost unconsciously. he’s tried every combination of affection terms with you, but his favorites are the personalized ones that he knows no one else ever has or ever will call you. they remind him that, for now, at least, you’re entirely his. when you use them in return, he feels unique, like a human. he feels like he finally has a real name. out of the well-known ones, however, k’s favorites are sweetheart, dear, flower, and pretty. flower and other pet names based on things that are now rare feel especially fitting to him, since someone “as perfect as you is hard to find.”

gosling sleepover sunday

[raviollies]

Got reminded that I never really revealed too much about the nature of Raha and Blythe's relationship on here so here is some insight!

Raha and Blythe met entirely by accident, in fact they weren't even the ones to get along at the start. It was Lorelai that Blythe instantly formed a connection with, and they became fast friends, as Raha, who is very reserved and quiet (as well as very socially anxious) had stayed to the side. Due to their chemistry, Lorelai invited Blythe to join them on their travels since Blythe was traveling destination-less, simply gathering information from wherever the wind takes her.

Raha and Blythe could not be more different. Raha is withdrawn, preferring not to speak or interact with strangers if does not have to, leading to camping in the woods in lieu of buying a room. Years of rejection by both his Elves and Humans has led him to a very solitary existence, withdrawn even around Lorelai albeit to a much lesser extent. He finds comfort in animals mostly, and does not judge monsters for their nature. He has no qualms with being a hunter, as he sees it as simply part of nature for prey to attempt to thwart a predator.

Blythe on the other hand, is a social butterfly. She is charismatic, and is able to charm with ease, she enjoys talking her way into or out of anything, leading her to be the face of their entourage. Raha couldn't help but be...impressed and mesmerized by all the things she could do that he couldn't. To him she was almost a bird soaring high, while he was confined to the earth. Combined with her attractiveness, well - it isn't hard to see how those feelings of admiration slowly edged into something more.

He confessed in an extremely Raha fashion - not quite saying it out loud, and simply saying that he hopes she will remain at their side even when they break the pact...and that he enjoys her company. Considering the weight of those words coming from his mouth, Blythe could piece together that he spoke much more than simple friendship. She asked if he wished to be in a relationship with her to which he, albeit very shyly, admitted to be true.

Thing is...Blythe actually did not hold romantic feelings for him at this time. She was for the lack of a better word - bored. She is someone that has never experienced love, and saw relationships as entertainment, something to keep you busy and a source of validation and attention.

That being said...when she did experience the way Raha treated her, the contrast between a man that is such a skilled warrior but the softness and gentleness that he hides within his aloof demeanor, the intelligence in his insights when he feels comfortable enough to speak, the handsomeness of his smile - she fell. The feelings that weren't there did bloom, and rather strongly ; the comfort no longer simply from the warmth of a body but the way it made her feel loved.

Their love language is similar but they express it differently. They both show their affection in acts of service, though Blythe leans much more towards the physical side and Raha towards the act side. He loves cooking for her, helping her with physical tasks she struggles with (even if it's difficult for him as well), collecting herbs and flowers for her alchemy, but most importantly - he pours a great deal of money into research into breaking pacts and fae.

Blythe on the other hand, tends to perform more physical acts of affection - offering to wash and oil his hair, kneading strained muscles, or make him tea or lotions using her alchemy and magic.

Their relationship is quite lowkey in public - but there is clear affection in how they behave. Due to Raha's social anxiety and desire to attract as little attention as possible, they typically don't engage in PDA, as much as Blythe would want to - but they know each other expertly (as does Lorelai, to be quite honest) as they can engage in their daily routines with no friction, and know each other needs without words.

TLDR: they have a very neutral start but are not married.

[rabbitcruiser]

National Onion Ring Day

Crisp, fried, a bit sweet—onion rings are the fancy cousin of the French fry. Have a taste-test with various dipping sauces, or get samples from different places.

They’re rich and crisp and delicious, surprisingly sweet for a flavor so often related to being spicy and the source of tears. But something about the process of breading them in a flavorful coating and deep-frying them in a vat of oil brings out the delicious flavors hidden inside. They come in towers and flowers, giant-sized and tiny, and they’re a favorite at burger joints all over the world. That’s right, we’re talking about the onion rings, and National Onion Ring Day celebrates this delicious treat and its long history.

History of National Onion Ring Day

The origin of the onion rings is actually somewhat mysterious, but we do know that in 1802 a recipe was published in ”The Art of Cookery Made Easy and Refined.” This recipe describes a process of dipping ½” onion rings dipped into a rather flavorful mixture of flour with creams and cheeses and then boiling them in a vat of lard. Following on the heels of this was a suggestion to serve it with a sauce made of a mixture of mustard and butter.

Since then, there have been many refinements of the onion rings recipe, with a great debate existing on the proper method and what brings out the best flavor. There are hundreds of recipes involving different mixtures of batter to coat them in, different sauces to dip them in, and even the type of onions you use to prepare them.

As if that wasn’t complicated enough, there’s even a variety of onion rings that are made from an onion paste formed into a circle instead of an actual slice of onion. If you’ve ever enjoyed these delicious treats, then National Onion Ring Day provides you with an excuse to go to your favorite source and consume onion rings until you burst.

Onion rings aren’t just an invention of the western world. There’s also evidence that people experimented with the idea of covering strips of onion with batter and deep-frying them in developing countries too. In India, for instance, merchants would often sell fried, battered onion strips as street food – a quick snack that people could munch on the go.

As we discussed, historians have found examples of onion ring-like recipes that date back as far as 1802. With that said, there are restaurants in operation today that claim to be the originators of the idea.

Kirby’s Pig Stand – the famous historical restaurant chain – claims to have battered and served up the first official onion rings as far back as the 1920s. The restaurant’s location in Dallas, TX, was the first in the world to offer a drive-in service where people could collect food from the convenience of their vehicles.

In many ways, the outlet was the progenitor to the modern fast-food restaurant. The roof was red-tiled and pagoda-like in appearance, and the outer walls made heavy use of stucco to brighten the exterior. Over the years, the company built many more outlets, but eventually, chains like McDonald’s and Taco Bell bought them up. In 2006, the company went bankrupt, and the last restaurant closed.

How to celebrate National Onion Ring Day

National Onion Ring Day is your opportunity to get out there and enjoy your favorite deep-fried savory treat. They’re simple to make at home, and while a deep fryer is great, it isn’t essential in their preparation. There are even baked Onion Rings if you decide to go that way, but nothing beats the original. Just heat up a pan of oil until a small drop of batter starts to sizzle when dropped in, and then carefully submerge your coated Onion Rings one by one and cook until a golden brown. There are dozens of recipes online that you can try, and even more recipes for sauces to serve them with.

If making onion rings isn’t your idea of fun, but you like eating them, then you can head out to any one of the dozens of restaurant chains that serves them as part of their daily menu. While many fast-food chains offer onion rings, the best examples come from independent restaurants with proprietary recipes. It’s highly likely that you have at least one of these in your area, serving up rings in the traditional style. Look for local diners with a long history and experienced management. Family businesses tend to be the best.

Some people really don’t like onions. Many won’t go near them, even if they’re covered in batter and deep-fried, but that’s okay. You don’t have to eat onion rings, though, to celebrate National Onion Ring Day – you can branch out. Remember, onion rings were the inspiration for many of the fried snacks and sides that we enjoy today. French fries, deep-fried brie, and fried chicken are all delicious alternatives that you can try if you fancy something different.

There are so many reasons to celebrate National Onion Ring Day. Onion rings are one of the most popular snacks and have become a staple in many parts of the world. They’re a bit like French fries, but taste even more special and delicious in some cases. You can dip them, dunk them, and eat them alongside all your favorite sandwiches and hamburgers. You can even lay them out at a buffet at parties. They’re so flexible!

Onion rings are also instructive for people looking for culinary inspiration. John Mollard – the man behind the 1802 recipe – was a genius. It took the world more than a hundred years to catch up to his vision of the perfect snack. Could you come up with a new recipe that is way ahead of its time?

Happy National Onion Ring Day!

Source

[greasecollections-blog]

Reliable waste oil pickup & recycling in Orange, CA. Eco-friendly solutions for used cooking oil collection. Call Grease Collection at (855) 519-5550 now!

[airandangels]

Used frying oil + stearic acid = easily disposable goo

I really like deep frying food like doughnuts and kara age chicken but have been forgoing it for a while because of the difficulty of disposing of the oil. If you filter out any food crumbs after it cools down and/or clarify it using gelatin, you can re-use deep frying oil two or three times, but after repeated use it darkens and tends to develop an unpleasant flavour affecting the food. After that it's got to go.

You shouldn't pour it down the sink because it can contribute to fatbergs forming in the sewers. You can pour it back in the original bottle, put on the lid and put it out in the rubbish, but that means the bottle doesn't get recycled and the oil is trapped inside it in the landfill, unable to biodegrade. Restaurants have access to commercial oil removal services, which nowadays often convert the old oil to biodiesel so it gets another use, but these usually don't take oil from people's homes (kerbside oil collection may be available in some places, but certainly not where I live). I felt stink about the available options so I stopped deep-frying for a while to avoid the problem.

However, I've learned of a clever trick! You can buy stearic acid quite cheaply from the kind of stores that sell supplies for making scented soaps and candles. It's a substance sold in the form of small flakes or granules that has the property of solidifying oils (hence useful for making soaps and candles).

To solidify deep frying oil, either do this shortly after you finish cooking with it, or (if you're me) reheat some old oil you have sitting around in a bottle that you don't feel right about throwing away. It doesn't need to be super duper hot, just anywhere above about 100ºF/38ºC. For each cup of oil, add three tablespoons of stearic acid and let it dissolve (it will be pretty quick). Turn off the heat and put the pot at the back of the stove or somewhere else that it can cool down undisturbed.

The time it needs to solidify will vary depending on things like the quantity of oil and how well the pot retains heat, but I found that within a couple of hours four cups of oil in a cast-iron pot had gone cold and turned to a soft jelly consistency that could be easily scooped out of the pot and dropped in the rubbish bin. Grand.

There are, of course, packaged mixtures you can buy that do the same thing (one brand is called Fry Away) but plain stearic acid is cheaper so yay!

[jowrites]

We got Married - 10. Jealousy is a disease(written)

Masterlist Here.

Prev. Next.

TW: Cursing, stalkers(sasaengs), sexual themes, THIS CHAPTER Mentions a certain SHINee member, as a devoted shawol I will always remember him and I hope you all will as well. Read at your own will. Thank you <3

Taglist: @lisaswifey @heeeseeungs

 FILMING: NOT IN PROGRESS

Roman sat next to Heeseung as he was glued to his phone, watching random videos and ignoring her. Today’s filming felt a little off, Heeseung seemed to be forcing out his reactions and movements and it felt like something was wrong. During breaks, he would walk away and not even give her a glance. She doesn’t know why he was suddenly acting like this, since normally they easily messed around and would play games together even when the cameras weren’t rolling, but something was definitely off.

“Hey, Hee-” Roman began to say, just as Heeseung took out his earbuds and placed them in his ear. Another way of ignoring her.

She rolled her eyes and got up from her seat, moving away and nudging his leg in the process as she walked over him to walk into another room. 

Heeseung felt guilty, he knew he was being unreasonable. He knew he was being immature but he couldn’t help it. He didn’t like hearing Jake was hanging out with her, let alone texting her. As selfish as it sounds, he wanted to gatekeep her and keep him all to himself. He watched as she disappeared into their shared ‘bedroom’, and he silently began kicking himself. Great, now he upset her. He just needed to get through the rest of filming for today and then he can go clear his head. She didn’t deserve to be treated this way when she didn’t even do anything, and he knew it was his fault. 

FILMING: IN PROGRESS

“How did you learn how to garden?” Heeseung asked, the two of them were outside on the patio tending to their little garden.

“It just became sort of an outlet, a hobby. Key gardens a lot as well and he’s showed me a lot of things,” Roman said, as she helped Heeseung transfer some green onion stems to the soil for them to grow in the pot. 

“Ah, I always forget how close you are with them,” Heeseung said.

“SHINee were the first group to be really kind to us, they really took us under their wing and Jonghyun taught me even more stuff about composing. I owe a lot to him,” Roman said, a sad smile forming on her face as she refused to meet his eyes.

“You don’t have to talk about that,” Heeseung said.

“No, it’s okay. I’m comfortable enough to talk about him, I’ll always talk about him. He deserves to be talked about,” Roman said. “I’ll make sure his name is never forgotten.”

Heeseung looked at her face, and gave her a silent smile, he reached up and removed a strand of hair out of her face. The two of them made eye contact and he leaned over and grabbed her hand, squeezing it. The warmth she felt go up her arm was unexplainable. She didn’t know why she always felt jolts of electricity every time they touched, but she didn’t complain. She just hoped he felt it too.

“There, it looks like it’s going to rain, we should finish up here and then make some dinner,” Roman said, picking up the tools and cleaning up around. 

Heeseung followed suit, taking the things from her grasp and putting them away for her. Even when he wanted to be mad, things just came naturally for him. He wanted to be distant and not feel this way anymore, but he just couldn’t. It was like she was a magnet and he was drawn to her. 

“What should we make for dinner?” Heeseung asked. “I’ll follow your lead, I don’t want a remake of last time.”

Roman laughed, remembering how Heeseung tried making Kimchi Jeon and managed to start a small fire with the oil and paper towels. He really wasn’t the best cook. Lucky for him, Roman liked to cook and she especially loved to do it for people. He realized her love language was gift giving and acts of service. She always came with things to give him behind the scenes and he started a collection in his dorm of the many things she had gotten him. Thinking about it now, he felt even more guilty with how he had been treating her when the cameras were off.

“We still have some tteokbokki and chicken, we can fry the chicken and make wings?” She suggested. 

“Lead the way, sweetheart,” Heeeung said, saluting to her and she giggled at his antics. 

He was still very adorable, even when he was being mean. 

FILMING: NOT IN PROGRESS

“Good work, everybody!” Roman and the staff were saying their goodbyes to one another as she was removing her mic. 

She looked over and saw Heeseung was staring at her, before quickly turning away and pretending to mind his business. Usually he would come over and hug her goodbye, but this time he just got in his car without a glance, and she watched as he drove off without a word.

Just what on earth was his problem?

[eatmangoesnekkid]

I didn't find my purpose--my purpose found me.

This is going to be a hard one for people to feel into or stomach in their bellies, especially at this time. We are not here to serve. We are here to discover our bliss which will instinctively be of service to other people we encounter, whether physically, energetically, or both. We are not here "to do," to be steadfast in finding our BIG purpose, but to simply enjoy the beauty that life offers us as the greatest love story ever told. We are here to lay back on the beach and *ACTUALLY* notice the birds, water, trees or sky, to relax and rest, to make unrepressed love with our Beloved, ourselves (our cells), and/or with life and not feel guilt or shame. Guess what naturally happens then: purpose naturally comes to find us.

The fear, shame, and guilt imprints we live inside of teach us to pretend and exist in performative outrage and care, but not to do the real work on our cells, tissues, organs, and digestion which informs our quality of consciousness, where the parasites/egregores/viruses/shadows disseminating the "evil" on Earth actually live and wreck havoc from. Practically that means we make time to cook our own meals and not eat out so much in restaurants full of chemicals and seed oils that make us energetic hosts for harm without our conscious awareness. That's why many people can't really 'see' what's really going on in the world....the deepest issue is far more internal and hidden in the overabundance of toxins in the body than external and what’s being presented on the news. But this can be healed, loved ones.

There is a lot I could decode off these words I wrote on a friend's youtube video, but I have to run and make dinner :). I leave you with this--the only way you are going to truly be able to SEE what's really going on and how to be part of the transformation is to start within. There is a lot happening with the planet and our bodies/bellies and thereby MENTAL HEALTH because the mind and belly are one shared experience. Belly care is essential. Massages. Probiotics. Belly lovemaking. Speaking life into your belly. Spinx pose. Belly breathing. Movement.....

We have been taught to believe that being focused on everything but ourselves makes us "good" people. Or to be focused on ourselves makes us selfish...which actually is what opens up our energy centers and makes us more healthy, magnetic, and alive. We no longer have to try to perform or impress, or prove anything to other people. We get to live content with ourselves, who and what we truly are, and the energy impacting our individual and collective fields. We get to create our worlds, and in doing so, expand the world into greater harmony, whether it is through our creations, our art, our dance, our aura, our heart, or our presence.

In the world but not of this world. Ethereal.

Your body is not a sack of flesh and bones. It is portal to heaven on earth, your divine energy in human form, and how you perceive and encounter the world around you. Learn about your skin, bones, joints, tissues, breast tissues, feet, yoni, belly, heart, etc. and not just about make up or how to dress. Tend to your ethereal body and your passionate creative energy so that you can live in the overflow and have something generous to share with other people from there. This can be a huge struggle especially for Black, Brown, and Poor women, because the biggest "thing" we have been conditioned to avoid is ourselves (our actual cells) and not to perceive ourselves worthy and valuable enough. We have been weakened because we have been historically trained to use our service transactionally as a means to be loved or aproroved of. As Priestesses/Divine Women/Divine Females, we have allowed our power to siphoned into division and separation where we point finger at others, and only experience everything happening "out there" instead of divinely draw the connection that we are the origin points to everything happening in the external world because our bodies house the womb.

Tend to the hearts, minds, and bodies of your loved ones and community as well. Gather with like-minded people and integrate your energies/genius together without forcing connections. Witness the transformations overtime.

Source the Light, Beauty, and Truth Inside Your Body and Make Your Life Archetypal, A Work of Art

The answer to ugliness of the world is beauty. Pure beauty. Be part of the frequency that elevates our global world by discovering beauty in everyday life. Be motivated to expect more from life than common narratives. Invite yourself to not waste your free time this week running up your screen time on the internet and get into the beauty, pleasure, and play of living. Put on your sassy hot pink bimbo or hoochie dress (that was me yesterday with leggings and long socks on--I live in Amsterdam where it is still cold in June) and go to a dance class. Sense yourself as a Goddess. You are allowed to live inside your own personal mythos, guilt-free. --India Ame'ye

[dartmoorsfinest]

Inside Josh Widdicombe’s home with butcher shop tiles and a £6,000 bath (The Sunday Times, 10.11.24)

The comedian’s interior designer wife, Rose Hanson, has restored an 1860s house with copper pipes, vintage finds and lots of books.

[NON-PAYWALL / ORIGINAL]

The comedian Josh Widdicombe and Rose Hanson, his interior designer wife, have restored a 19th-century former artist’s house in the village of Mullion, on the Lizard. The star of Channel 4’s The Last Leg is in the process of writing gags for his 2025 stand-up tour. Called Not My Cup of Tea, because he gave up alcohol last year and now drinks eight cups of “builder’s tea” a day, the show will be a catalogue of gentle gripes on topics from motorway services to children’s party bags. He says inspiration strikes during the eight-hour drive from where they live in Hackney, east London, to their Cornish home, when he has the captive audience of Hanson and their kids, Pearl, seven, and Cassius, three. Traffic jams on the A303 are evidently fertile ground for middle-aged grumbles.

We are speaking during half-term, and the final stage of the renovation — the landscaping of their three-quarter-acre plot — is in ear-splitting full swing. A sauna has already been installed and by the time the diggers depart there will be a fireplace and outdoor kitchen on the patio, and a natural swimming pool in the garden. To a backing track of excavations, the couple, both 41, explain that they picked this glorious spot because Josh grew up in Haytor Vale, near Torquay, and his parents still live nearby in Devon, while Hanson (whose mother, incidentally, helped to create Zippy, the puppet from the 1980s kids’ show Rainbow) remembers Cornwall fondly from childhood holidays. “It felt like a natural place for us to look,” she says.

The 1860s house, called Moorlands, previously belonged to a local abstract artist, Barrie Cook, whose works are in the Tate and the Government Art Collection. “He’s got Wikipedia. So he’s legit,” Widdicombe says. “I don’t know much about art but if someone’s got a Wikipedia page, that’s quite a big deal.” Along with the rambling building, they took on the expectations of Cook’s family. “We had quite a strange day of meeting the whole extended family after we’d bought the house,” Widdicombe says. “They just wanted to know that this place was going into the hands of people that would care about it and treat it well.” The couple have done the Cooks proud, with a sympathetic top-to-toe restoration and a reconfiguration of the layout to meet the demands of modern family life.

They bought Moorlands in October 2022 for under £850,000 and are likely to spend the same again on renovations. Work started in January 2023, knocking through walls upstairs and between the sitting room and dining room on the ground floor. Six months later, the old extension was demolished and by November every single window in the house had been replaced. “They’re basically identical to the windows that were here, but they’re not falling apart,” Hanson says. They took the property from five bedrooms and two bathrooms to six bedrooms and seven bathrooms, overhauled the electrics, got rid of the oil tank and replumbed with help from a local company called The Braze. “It’s like an incredible work of art with all of these amazing copper pipes,” she says.

By March this year the lights and heating were on. Hanson sourced the oak flooring from Dartmoor firm Coppice and Crown. The most striking change was the replacement of the old sunroom on the first floor. “The upstairs conservatory was quite amazing. But it was just completely impractical because it was absolutely boiling, and there was quite bad damp in the room below. So we got an architect involved and designed two double bedrooms with en suites, and a beautiful formal dining room underneath.” Hanson repositioned the kitchen at the front of the house, where the family would benefit from the glorious garden view. By April 24, every room in the house was finished, and they had their first guests to stay.

Now they intend to spend six weeks of the year enjoying their seaside getaway, and let it out in between family visits. So how do they live when in Cornwall? Hanson lifts weights in her home gym and plans to learn to surf at the nearby Dan Joel Surf School. “I hate stuff like that,” says Widdicombe, who can’t swim. “I like a walk. I like running on the treadmill, but I don’t like anything that takes me outside of my comfort zone, ideally. The reason to be on holiday is to relax, not to do anything that makes me stressed.”

He doesn’t mean to party, either. It’s a part of the world notorious for celeb spotting, with notable locals including fellow comics David Baddiel and Morwenna Banks, but the couple plan to lead a quiet life. “We don’t really have parties because we’ve got young children,” Hanson says. “And the people who come and stay have young children too. I mean, we’re lucky if we all get downstairs again after the kids’ bedtime at nine o’clock.” The wildest evening at Moorlands so far was, Widdicombe says, “The first week we stayed, we had four couples and eight children in the house, and we managed to get six kids in the bath at once.”

The tub in question, in the family bathroom, is a £6,000 Rockwell, from Water Monopoly, which Hanson describes as “an extravagant purchase”. A magpie who is constantly acquiring vintage treasures, she added inexpensive second-hand touches to complete the decor. “We found this amazing little yellow bathroom cabinet that just kind of makes the whole room pop. I’m a real hoarder of second-hand fabrics from eBay and I’d got this vintage Pierre Frey fabric patterned with tassels and gems, which we made into a blind.”

Asked how much of the design is her husband’s idea, Hanson is quite clear. “He doesn’t have any say. I don’t even run anything past him, except budget. There are times where there are things that he would really like. When we moved into our first house, Josh really wanted a bread bin that said ‘Bread’ on it. So I made that happen. Then there was [a request for] a hot water tap. So fine. Yeah, you can have your hot water tap.”

Widdicombe has no complaints. “I’d rather someone else who knows what they’re doing takes the lead,” he says. “I know what I’m good at and I don’t think Rose is ever going to give me notes on my stand-up. And in the same way, I’m not going to give her notes on this.” Hanson responds: “You’re basically the dream client.”

Before they moved in together, the comedian’s taste was based around displaying his music collection. “I lived in a rental property in Turnpike Lane [north London] when I was in my twenties and I didn’t have much money. I had a wall of about 600 CDs.” Now his focus has switched to books as decor. “I buy a lot of books and I’m a keeper of books. I hate it when someone says to me, ‘Can I borrow that after you’ve finished reading it?’ Because I think, ‘No, I want to put it on my wall.’ It’s like you’ve killed a deer or whatever, isn’t it, and you want to display it? If someone says that, I’ll buy them a copy of that book rather than give them my book.” So, excluding the library in his study, and keeping her hands off the hot tap and bread bin, Hanson had carte blanche to decorate the house to her taste.

She brought in her friend Charlotte Tilbury, a designer who had worked on their London home in Victoria Park, Hackney, and moved to Devon during Covid. Halfway through the works, the two women decided to start a business together and make Moorlands their first joint project: Penrose Tilbury was founded. “It’s not like work,” Hanson says. “It’s like going and hanging out with your mate and drinking rosé.” It wasn’t all wine and design chat, she corrects herself. “The hardest things to find were bathroom tiles. We did a collaboration with Original Style who made a bespoke pencil-black tile for us that we just couldn’t really find anywhere. Then the Daily Mail did a story — they must have got some pictures from our Instagram — and somebody said in the comments that our bathrooms look like a butcher’s shop. I was quite pleased with that. That was sort of the look I was going for.”

The next visit will be for New Year’s Eve, when the couple will be inviting friends for an ultra-low-key gathering. Hanson says: “We might have a glass of wine after we finish bedtime at nine o’clock.” And there will be plenty of PG Tips.

[spellucci]

Decisions, Decisions

Thursday, October 12, 2023

It is decision time. Today we need to make a firm, clear, hard, solid, unalterable, set in stone, unbreakable decision about where the weather will be optimal, or at least workable, to see the eclipse. The eclipse track is a two day drive from where we are in Kansas. And those darn weather predictions are not yet firm enough to guide a firm, clear, hard, ..., well, you see the problem.

If we go south, the weather looks more favorable, but is in the wrong direction for the friends we want to visit on Sunday. If we go west, which takes us more in the direction of our friends, the weather is unsettled. We decide to wait until we reach Wichita, Kansas to choose which direction to take.

I'm the meantime, Tim's nephew cooks us a fabulous breakfast. A mound of luscious hash brown potatoes, bacon cooked to perfection in the oven, and scrambled eggs toped with Cholula hot sauce start our day with our mouths happy and our bellys full. Dora had fun playing with Spot, a chihuahua mix. After happy goodbyes, we set the GPS for Wichita and head out.

As we drive, we learn more geography than we had really wanted to know. Head west to Farmington, Albuquerque, or Roswell New Mexico? South to Hobbs, Odessa, or Midland Texas? The weather report that had earlier said Roswell would be clear now says partly cloudy. And the weather report for our original destination of Farmington looks like it is improving. Two Spellmans in our heads. Argh!

We leave the highway and head down a dirt road looking for a place to lunch and collect our thoughts. We stop between a harvested corn field and a dormant oil well. Dora is so full of curiosity for the sounds and smells of the field that she ignores her ball.

We eat leftover Thai red curry and rice from last night. It is still decision time. We are fortified with food and with three different weather reports that favor Farmington. We decide: Farmington it is.

The wind picks up as we head across central Kansas. The National Weather Service has forecast winds of 35 MPH, gusting to 50. The dust clouds the air in every direction. It brings to mind Woody Guthrie's song of the dust bowl era, "Dusty Old Dust."

This is the oil-producing section of Kansas. We wonder how they, whoever "they" is, keep the oil separate from the produce.

U.S. 56 heads west along the plains. The wind is blowing from the South. Hard. The driver has to hold the wheel left just to stay going straight. The speed limit is 65, while the road is a single lane in each direction with a two-foot breakdown "lane." Each time we meet a big rig coming toward us, we slam into its wake, immediately dropping our speed by 2 MPH. As we pass it, we get yanked toward its lane, and have to be ready to re-center ourselves before the next oncoming vehicle arrives. Everyone is shading themselves toward the side of the road. The beeping of the lane keeping assist warning is incessant. It is so nerve-wracking that we abandon the regular two-hour shifts for one-hour shifts or less.

We stop for water in a small town with (not one but!) two public parks that RVs can use. To our right was a deserted fairgrounds and across the street the endless farm fields restarted. The temperature was 86°, although the RV thermometer got up to 106° in the sun. We didn’t pack for hot weather, but the high winds kept us comfortable in tshirts and jeans.

We stopped for the night at a pleasant rest area at the crossroads of two state highways. Tim opened the door and at least a dozen flies came in. Jeanne screamed and Tim hastily retreated from whatever he wanted from the front seat. The rest of the night was split between planning how to minimize opening the doors and swatting flies.

The howling winds continued to shake the RV hard all night long.

[arunarura]

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[kushihygieneservices]

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