#tree-top flasher

[jadafitch]

It’s firefly season again! 🔥🪰 / ⚡️🐞

Spring Tree-Top Flasher

“Consider the charisma of a firefly: a beetle that makes no one cringe, that we chase after with jars, a thing that glows. Consider that a firefly is a firefly for only two weeks. That before it is a firefly, it crawls through the dark for a year, wingless. It eats and eats. It tunnels through leaf litter, lethal and glowing. With its mandible it pierces slugs, earthworms, and snails, paralyzing them with venom. It glows so as not to be eaten. It molts out of its exoskeleton and grows bigger.

We assume fireflies will always be here for us, a ritual that carries children through summer dusks. But are our lawns too short, our nights too bright with artificial light? By the time we see them, fireflies have spent a winter underground and have emerged, frenzied to mate, into a confusing world that is not dark enough. They do not eat. Singleminded, they lack even mouthparts. They try to make the brightest flash.” - Kateri Kosek

[northerlyy]

Common Eastern Fireflies (Photinus pyralis), taken June 16, 2025, in Georgia, US

Firefly season is now in full swing here! Every night at dusk, fireflies begin flashing in the hundreds. Depending on the location they flash and the time of night, you can usually tell what kinds are flashing. P. pyralis is usually the first to begin, staying low to the ground and flashing every few seconds, followed later by other, smaller Photinus species who fly a little higher. My favorite to watch are the Spring Tree-Top Flashers (Pyractomena borealis) which, as their name suggests, flash up in the tree canopy. I rarely see them during the day (as they roost in the treetops), but they're beautifully numerous at night. They hover high in the air and flash several times in quick succession, often in sync with a couple others around them. Looking up and seeing dozens of fireflies twinkling in the treetops is a wonderful sight!

[deblklesb]

[Phantoms of Past — Abby x Reader]

[AFAB!reader, friends to lovers, Christmas themed, br!reader, angsty, MDNI]

a/n: well, is this late for Christmas? yes. but do i care? also yes bc i'm paranoid and have some need to make stuff on time, so imagine my despair when i couldn't finish this. but i ALSO know that I'm doing my best, and for that i have to pat my own back. anyway, this is for my brazilian besties out there!!!

cw: reader is brazilian, usage of phrases in pt-br with the translation after and between parenthesis, owen mentioned (this man is a cw by himself idc this is not a owen appreciated blog), mutual pinning, Abby understands portuguese and even talks some. let me know if i forgot something.

not proof read | word count: 3,274

reblogs are highly appreciated!!

While you drive through the recently cleaned streets of the neighborhood you grew up, thanking the heavens that it stopped snowing for now, the radio plays a seasonal song and your murmur along. The traffic on the main roads were chaotic, almost as congested as your uncle's arteries, but now the decorated rooftops and doorsteps replaced the headlights on your peripheral vision. In front of a house stood a snowman, or at least his body stripped of arms and face.

You park in front of a house with simple adornments and flashers around the main door, a LED deer standing next to it and a small table with fake cookies and milk on top. All the energy was so reminiscent of the years you'd spend a whole day decorating the house with your mom, mainly inside, just so your father and sister could take care of the outside. Now that you both were grown and away, the couple occupied itself with the house interior and resumed the exterior with a simple approach. It never failed to take a smile from you, though, especially seeing the way they would adhere to simple things just because it looked cute, even if it had nothing to do with their native traditions.

Coming from Brasil, for the first part of your life you had hot weather and sunny days on Christmas. Maybe a night of rain, but never snow. Fireworks and catholic mass were on the list, but your parents went just to go along with the rest of the family and friends. They weren't religious, so in the end Christmas was simply another holiday, but with presents and - as all the other holidays - a family gathering. The main difference now was that you were studying in another city, becoming one of the absent relatives; you know, the ones that mainly go home for the holidays and vacations. It wasn't bad, but they definitely missed you a lot and the feeling was mutual.

Using your key to get in, the sounds of Simone’s “Então É Natal” (“And So It Is Christmas”), a brazilian holiday song, hit you immediately. You chuckle, taking off your boots and coats. From the front corridor the ornamented tree is visible, carrying innumerous lights and details. There's probably not a single empty wall, the seasonal decoration filling every inch of your field of vision.

“There she is!” Your father shouts as you appear in the living room smiling. The man goes into your direction with open arms, holding you tight. You smell that same cologne he wears since you can remember anything, and along with the warmth of the house, it truly feels like home. Some of the tension from university and work just falls on the carpet, leaving your body to receive all the good things inside that place.

“Carlos, you'll smash our child and I cannot have another one”, your mom yells somewhere from the kitchen direction, making you laugh.

“I can get another one anywhere, Marília”, he finally lets go, an arm around your shoulders. “Won't be as nice as this one, though”

“Of course not, she's irreplaceable”, your cousin Felipe says, approaching. “Prima, você tem feito falta!” (“Cousin, you have been missed!”) He holds you sideways with an insane amount of exaggeration, taking an embarrassed chuckle from you. Felipe was a lawyer with a lot of charisma, but inside he was just your cousin that your mom liked a lot. You both used to play together growing up. “From some people, a little too much”, he whispers playfully before running away, not letting you scold him for bringing up something you were not prepared to deal with this earlier, especially when the person implied wasn't even around. Yet.

Your father doesn't seem to notice, now talking with your mom again.

“Hey, Alice”, you wave to Felipe’s wife sitting on the couch, drinking something on a Christmas themed mug.

“Hey, sweetie! How's uni?”

“Tiring”, you shrug. “How about the kids?”

Your name is once again shouted through the house, and as you turn around three kids are running into you. Camila, Jorge e Rayana hold your waist, almost making you fall with a laugh. Camila is the oldest, at five years old, but the others are at the age of three. They're simply the most precious people in that family.

“Meus pestinhas!” (“My little brats!”) You start messing their hairs and pinching their ears playfully.

“Eu perdi um dente, olha!” (“I lost a tooth, look!”) Camila smiles widely, showing the first little window on her mouth.

“Ela tá ficando banguela e feia” (“She's getting toothless and ugly”) Jorge points out, and by Camila's reaction this isn't a new saying.

“Well, that's too bad. Because you'll get toothless and ugly too, just wait a few years”, Rayana and Camila laugh as the boy pouts at your response, looking at their mom.

“Vamo, vamo, abram espaço. Preciso abraçar minha filha” (Come on, come on, clear the way. I need to hug my daughter) Your mom’s voice finally reached the living room before her arms were wrapped around your torso. It's warm and familiar, you've missed her so much.

“Oi, mãe” (“Hey, mom”)

“Você tá tão magrinha, filha. Aposto que não anda comendo direito na correria, né?” (“You're so skinny, child. I bet you haven't been eating well in all the rush, right?”) The caressing she does on your back is reassuring, and by that you can tell you're going back with bowls filled with food. “Sua irmã vai chegar só mais tarde, seu pai vai buscar ela na estação” (“Your sister will arrive just later, your father will pick her up on the station”)

“When will uncle Jerry get here? He said he would get me new crayons”, Rayana mumbles while playing with one of the numerous ornaments on the lit up tree.

You try not to react to what that phrase implies, going with your mom to the kitchen to busy your hands and your mind with something else. She would probably kick you out of there soon anyway, she never liked having other people in the kitchen with her unless very necessary. But the need to act normal, smile and not think about family friends coming over it's bigger than the prospect of being scolded out of a room.

While the conversation continues in the living room and the song plays to never leave an empty place in your audition, you hover around the place talking with your mom about the neighborhood news and her routines in the morning walks group. It's comforting to know about what's going on, even if it doesn't really affect your life.

You help her cut the bread to make rabanadas (french toasts), looking forward to finally eating them. It's one of your favorite things of this season, even though you could actually find it anywhere at any time of the year. But the memories of having a plate of those on the supper table, covered in sugar and cinnamon, it's one of your favorites. So you're dividing your attention between the chore of slicing the bread and listening to your mom speaking, when a name being yelled in the living room catches your ear and you almost cut the tip of your thumb.

It's Jorge’s voice. “Abby!”

It's a blessing your mom didn't notice it, but now you have a bigger motive to stay inside the kitchen and never leave it.

No matter how much your mother talked, or the music filled the air, or the people in the other room got into different conversations within the group; her voice seemed louder than any other thing to you. You would swear she was next to the table you had the cutting board on, chatting with the children and playing with them.

You could swear you could listen to her whispering to you about lonely nights and missing pieces of a puzzle.

“Tia!” (“Auntie!”)

Your mom stops speaking just to turn around and look into the tall woman's direction. “Abigail!” Her comforting, mothering arms hold the strong torso, and the blonde needs to be in a not very straight posture to fully embrace your mom. What could you say, hightness wasn't in your family's genes.

“One of these days you'll be able to carry me around, with how big and strong you're getting!” And they both laugh as if Abby didn't live at the end of the block and they saw each other constantly.

All the while, you're trying to avoid the upcoming, inevitable moment. Your eyes glue on the bread, but you're not really looking at it. They're talking but you can't decipher the words, just assimilate the sweet voice making your cells tremble in vibrations. Cutting another piece, and another, then another, then-

“Puta que pariu-” (“Motherfucker-”), a drop of blood falls onto the cutting board when you pull your hand away, thumb red and hurting.

“What happened?” Your mom asks, concern in her voice.

“I cut my finger”, the running water of the sink makes the wound sting when you put the finger under it, the blood keeps coming out.

“I can take care of that if you need to”, Abby says, making you look directly at her for the first time of the night.

And you have to give the lack of air to the pain. You have to, because otherwise you would be admitting that looking at her takes your breath away.

“Yeah, Abby is working as a nurse in a school now. I bet she's used to this type of thing”, Marília goes to the cutting board, taking the pieces you've cut already.

There's nowhere to run over this. What will you say, that you don't want her to take care of your wound? That you can't be next to her, orelse all the coherent thoughts in your mind will fade away, leaving room for her voice? That your fingers ache to touch her?

You look to your still bleeding finger under the open faucet, then to the tall, blonde woman again. And while your mother wasn't looking, you both had a silent conversation about something, everything. She could see the doubt in your eyes, but you could see the pleads in hers.

“Sure, I think it wouldn't be much…” You try to smile, finally turning the faucet off and grabbing a towel to wrapp around your finger.

You both go upstairs, she tells you how there was a first aid kit in the bathroom and your stomach jumps at the realization that she knew your house more than yourself probably. Looking forward at all times and trying not to pay too much attention to her careful hand touching your arm like she was guiding you around the place.

“Go to your room, I’ll take the kit”, and you don’t even look at her to see how she was looking at you. You don’t know how that hurt her, mainly because you’re trying to get out of this situation as fast as possible.

The room is just like you always leave it after the breaks, bed neatly covered and books on the shelves. Some stuffed animals that you couldn’t bear to donate were aligned on a shelf next to a poster of a band you liked, the black and red contrasting with the creamy colors of a small giraffe. You saw the table where once you were pressed against, the lamp giving a soft light on the room as you felt a pair of lips so close to yours after all those years of yearning and silent pining.

“Okay, let’s give this a look” she was back using that voice, the one for the workplace. Tender, but firm; like she was trying to be secure, but reassuring.

Abby pulled the chair next to the table so she could sit in front of you, her knees together between your separated legs as she carefully took your hand and unwrapped the towel. Crimson drops started to flow down your finger, and the blonde woman never took the blue eyes away from the cut.

The distance wasn’t enough. Her scent would haunt the bedroom all night, making you dream about her just like it happened before, during your late school years, when she came to spend the day and left you numb and daydreaming. Her touches were so gentle, featherlight.

“It wasn't that bad, we can handle it”, she muttered like she was talking to one of the students from the school she worked at. “So, how's college?”

“It's okay, I guess”, with eyes glued on your own hand, you tried not to notice her thighs too much. “I've been working my ass off to write a paper while keeping up with classes and the monitoring thing”

“You'll get this, I'm sure”, you looked up just in time to see a smirk on her lips, but then returned to look down again before being trapped on that hypnotizing expression. “After all, you've always been very good with your words”

“It was easier in school, though”

“It always is”, she cuts the bandage before wrapping your finger with it. “But that's the thing, right? We start to realize how school was maybe easier, but then again, would you rather be back?”

“Oh, fuck no”, you chuckle as she finishes the curative. “I wouldn't change this for that”

“Yeah”, you finally look up more confident, meeting her indescribable expression. “I would change some things, actually”

“Like what?” You're just keeping the conversation, just trying to let it flow well enough for it to be bearable. You surely weren't expecting the next phrase.

“I wouldn't have dated Owen”, she sighs.

Owen was Abby's boyfriend. They started dating in the last year of school, and looked very much in love, for your displeasing. He wasn't a bad guy per se, but the fact that you already had a crush on Abby made you think that your feelings towards him were totally based on jealousy. So every single thing you had to say about him would be shoved down your throat immediately, and you'd just smile and nod to your friend anytime she mentioned him. You told her he was nice - couldn't bring yourself to say more than that - and supported their relationship with the most painful role in that whole story: the best friend with an unrequited crush.

By fall you found out she and Owen had broken up. Right after…

“Why is that?” Her eyes wander from the quilt to your hands, then back to your face. They were so beautiful, you could spend the rest of the night admiring them. Or the way her hair would fall around her face with soft lines, how her freckles were so attractive to the touch, especially on her arms.

“Don't think I was really into him… At least not in the right way”, Abby was the one not looking at you now, almost more interested in putting the stuff back on the kit box. “I could've been honest with him… And with you”

“Abby-”

“That's fine…” She shrugged. “He was a little bit of a dumbass anyway”

Silence falls around you both, filling the room with an emptiness.

The image of them both in your living room, last Christmas, haunts your mind as soon as you remember how you knew nothing and was too caught up in your own thoughts at the time. The way she laughed at his jokes, making your stomach turn as you smiled politely. Or how you saw them kissing next to the coat holder by the front door, and all the food you ate wanted to come back in awful bitterness.

You never told anyone. Never said a word, as always, rather keeping the green feeling on the back of your mind in order to not do something stupid - like being rude or start crying.

But then, you came home for the summer break. You dad was making barbecues in the backyard, you mom decorated the house with all the stuff your cousin brought from Brasil on his last trip, and you'd listen to pagode in the living room while the kids were playing and running, waiting for the meat to be properly roasted so they could finally eat.

Internally, you were ready to deal with that same gut-rotting feeling all over again. The plan was to sustain the fake expression until the time allowed you to pull the tiredness card on everyone and go to your room to watch some old telenovela.

Abby showed up alone, greeting everyone as usual. And when she looked at you, you could swear that was something in her eyes that could make you shiver. How she took your figure in before hugging you, how she held you so tight and for a little bit longer. How she was always trying to be next to you. You couldn't decipher, though, and the whole day went by mixing the confusion of her being without Owen and not even mentioning his name, and the rush of being that close to her again.

That night, in your room, she kissed you. Right there, where you were sitting now, she held your face between your hands and your skin shivered, while her lips touched yours.

You waited for years. Kissing her was probably one of the only things you wanted to do every time she was around, flesh craving hers. And it finally happened… But she had a boyfriend.

So you never talked about it again. You went back to college and texted her less and less.

“Abby, Abby, Abby!” A childish voice came from the corridor, the door opened to show Rayana. “Come here, I need your help to defeat Jorge and papai” (dad)

“Okay, I'll be there in a second!” The blonde smiled before the girl ran back downstairs. “Well, it seems like a have a duty”

“Can't let her down, she'll never forgive you”, you both chuckled while she got out of the room, first to leave the kit back in the bathroom and then to go to the living room again.

Sighing, you laid back on the mattress. Just like that summer night, you were alone in your room trying to collect your feelings about an interaction with Abby. Heart beating fast and a familiar warmth on your chest, wanting to curse every single entity for putting you in this position.

You came down maybe 15 minutes later, mask back on to decorate your face with a smile. You saw the tall woman on the mat with the younger children on top of her, attacking her while laughs filled the place.

“Okay, okay, saiam de cima da Abigail” (“Get off of Abigail”) Your mom didn't have to say it twice before they were sitting next to her. “Abigail, I need a favor. Remember that bowl I lent to you last week?”

“Sure”, her arms seemed stronger now that she was supporting herself on the elbows. Why was she so gorgeous?

“I need you to get it for me, darling”

“Okay, I got it”, Abby got up and immediately went grabbing her coat again.

And you were about to go back to the kitchen to make yourself useful, but it couldn't be that easy.

“Filha, vai com ela. Está nevando bastante, não é bom dirigir sozinha nesse tempo” (“Daughter, go with her. It's snowing a lot, it isn't good to drive alone in the weather”)

“Oh, it's not necessary-” She really tried, but your mom wouldn't take a negative answer.

“I'm not asking, you won't go alone!”

You nod and start putting on heavy clothes. It was okay, all good. You both would get in the house, grab the bowl, and get back in no time. It would be fine.

[dividers by @cafekitsune]

[icykalisartblog]

I’m so excited! My first bug observations of the year, and all seen on tree trunks that are right next to each other! From top to bottom: spring treetop flasher, winter firefly, and false honey ants. I especially love the pattern on the winter firefly's thorax.

[hands-you-an-arthropod]

Pyractomena borealis

Common Name: Spring Tree-Top Flasher

me when someone who has been nice to me every single time we've interacted is nice to me:

omg... you dont hate me?....

[juliebrost]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Vintage Fi 12 Volt Replacement Lights 5 Packages of 5 (25 Total) NEW Old Stock.

[the-twitchy-life]

Hey ! This year at my house, we're having a friends Christmas, where all the people who don't have anywhere to go for Christmas in our friend circle come to our house, and it's really cool, my mom's been excited and decorating the whole house top to bottom in pretty lights, but surprise ! She mentions that her friend's daughter has epilepsy

As another disabled person, I'm dedicated to making this accessible to her, is it fine if the lights are slowly fading in and out ? How fast is okay ? Should they not blink at all ? Be on or off all the time ? Is there anything else I should know ? I don't know much but I wanna make the best of it, thank you !

Hi!

So, my short answer is: ask her. Everyone's sensitivity is different, and she'll appreciate you taking the time and effort to make her feel welcome. She might also have an accessibility need neither of us have thought of

The long, vague, "best guess" answer is: probably slowly fading in and out is better than flashy, but you're best off just leaving them on or off, not flashing or pulsating or anything.

Because nobody very few people are sensitive to the light just being on, but flashers and faders will drive people a bit nuts, even if they're not having seizures. Your neighbors probably love how much effort and joy you put into your display! I know I appreciate my neighbors' displays, but I appreciate it the most when the lights don't flash or pulsate.

(That said, there's a house nearby with a tree in the second-floor window with the yellow lights set to constantly pulsate. When I pass it first thing in the morning it's still dark, except for the glowing tree in the window, getting brighter and dimmer, brighter and dimmer, like an alien spaceship. It makes me laugh every time.)

Anyhow, good luck and enjoy your holiday! And really, ask her. She'll feel so special. It'll be the best gift she gets all holiday.

[pbandjesse]

It was a dark and rainy day. The rain makes me tired. I did get a little nap in though. And I got to have a hoagie so it's been a pretty good day.

I was going to drive James to work because of the rain. But when James woke me up I was dizzy I was so tired. And it wasn't raining yet. So James told me to keep sleeping. The next hour and a half helped me feel a lot better but I was sad I flaked on James. I would pick them up later.

The rain was very bad though even I was getting ready to leave. I was running a little behind because I had to fix the insoles in my rain boots and then I had to change my socks. But I felt good. My picture for today I am not wearing the sweater dress I had on top of this outfit. But I worked really hard and got very sweaty so I am glad I had the tank top and leggings on. This was a smart move on my part.

Driving the camp was scary. The rain would pick up about half way through and it was so thick that my cars eyesight was turned off. I couldn't see cars in front of me if they didn't have their lights on. I had my flashers on because I was nervous about being seen. It was slow going for sure. But I would make it safely and only felt a little stressed.

I let James know I made it safe. And I let Alexi know I was over in the eyrie. She let me know that she had a tour group coming through and to let her now if I needed anything.

I would be pretty self sufficient though. I had organizing to do.

I was slightly overwhelmed though. The eyrie is where all the feild trip program stuff is. But it is also a classroom. Except two years ago a tree fell on it and the power has been out since. So now it's just storage and it has become just. A huge mess.

So when I first got in there I would just walk around and try to make sense of what I could do. I started with making piles of boxes and then figuring out which programs or what. I collected trash and figured out different types of things and put them in different piles in the room. My big goal was just to get everything off of the ground. And I think it's a good job I was in there for a few hours. But I felt very accomplished while I was doing it.

I also was just absolutely getting covered in their webs. That was like a theme of the day. There were so many boxes though and so much of them just had nonsense in it. Some of them were just empty. So I tried to collect things and make decisions on what was worthwhile to keep and what wasn't. The buckets that we used the other week for the water testing program we're all wet on the inside and so I separated all the pieces out and decided that some of that material I was just going to put to the side.

Some of the issue really is that I'm not familiar enough with the programs to really make calls on what is actually supposed to be in all the boxes. Like Elizabeth gave me a binder but having a list of words doesn't always help me because I don't know what I'm looking at. So I tried to at least make it so that when she goes in to get stuff for a field trips it's a little bit more streamlined. And she isn't climbing over trash. The ground is completely clear now. And the back shelf and table have all of the boxes that I think are full. And then the two classroom tables have the things that need to be distributed. And then I put all of the craft supplies in one corner. And then all the empty boxes in the other corner. It was a really nice time honestly. I had a podcast going and I was enjoying the sounds of the rain outside. And I just felt very peaceful.

I took a break and got a message on eBay as an offer for a watch I was looking at. They gave me 40% off so that was exciting. And then I was looking on Tumblr for a second and there's the thing about the blue check marks and so I was joking around with James about buying those and. Then I go on Facebook and my mood just shifted.

I saw that was my sister's birthday. The second one since she died last year. And I don't exactly know what to think about it. I texted Jessie and James right away. And both of them asked me the same thing. How do you feel? And I feel weird. I like to tell people that grief is just love that you haven't been able to express. But I think so much of my grief is still tied up and anger and regret. Disappointment. That it still hurts. And there's so much I don't even know about hers though. I tried. There's a long time where I didn't try. But I did try for a few years. I thought that we were adults and that we could get to know each other again but I didn't happen and now it never will. And I know that my dad hurts. And my mom hurts. And Renee hurts. And Raeanna and Wilson. And I feel selfish. To be angry. But I think that's just the reality.

When she first died I said it felt like she was a bullet that ripped through everything. All the time. And I'm talking about before she died. She would disappear for weeks at a time and then all of a sudden she was all anyone could think about or talk about. He's doing something outrageous and she was a topic of conversation more than a person to me sometimes. There were years I didn't see her. Years I didn't speak to her. So when she died it was almost like well okay. Not every day changes. But I am a different person I'm a different person than who I was last year. I'm a person that she's never going to know. And that doesn't feel very good.

I don't even know where I'm going with us but I was sitting there in that classroom. And I just felt strange. I felt sad.

And then I couldn't focus on cleaning my building anymore. I was in there for 2 hours and I had to go and be somewhere else. So I walked back to my car and I drove around camp to go to the office to start cleaning out the attic.

This was much more straightforward. I understood about all the materials up there and most of it was just things that needed to be put back in their places. And so I was up there for two more hours and I was sweaty and covered in spider webs and dusty. But I was making really good progress. Alexi would come back and she saw the hard work that I was doing. And I pass a snack and a soda. And I really made it a space where you could actually find stuff. The one thing I didn't do was towards the end I was just pulling out any craft supply and making a big pile. And I sorted through all of that to find all of the drawing utensils but I needed to eat something. I had only had crackers and Skittles today. So I put all the other craft supplies in one cardboard box to be sorted later and I went to check in with Alexi before I left.

Alex you know that I was going to work on the map that they requested this weekend and figure out some books that we could possibly use for the Native American program. We chatted for a few minutes. I told her that I found a bunch of beans in the attic and she thought that was very strange. And then I left.

I hope things I wanted a hoagie so bad. They suggested we get some fancy ones right in our but I was like no you don't understand I haven't eaten yet I'm just going to get Wawa. And so I drove out to cockeysville and I got Wawa and I ate in the parking lot.

An accidentally made my own hot at first. Which I'm sure would have been fine but was not what I wanted. I just wanted a cold cheese sandwich essentially. But once you removed it was really good and I didn't like my chips but they were good on the sandwich. I watched a video and had my food and then I was just like I got to go home. I am so tired.

I would get home at 2:00. Parked the car and came upstairs. The matching pajamas I got for me and James came in the mail. And I brought that up. And I texted James that I was laying down till 3:30. I should come get them. Wasn't raining anymore but James said that the radar said it would again so that was the plan.

I slept hard. I wanted to keep sleeping. But I woke up all dizzy and had to shake it off. It was storming again and I needed to get my love.

Honestly I probably shouldn't have been driving I was so delirious. But I safely made it. And swapped to the passenger seat. I texted with Jess. She is planning a Disney trip for us for 2024 and was crunching some numbers of what we need to save. $100 a month. Can do.

And then James was there. And I was so glad to see them. They were so cute in their sweatshirt. Love my James.

We went home and I laid down and looked at videos for a little while. But eventually would get up to do some art.

While I'm trying to stick to a schedule to not fall apart when it's dark, I am going to be flexible with myself. Instead of doing st from 7 to 8, I started it at 530, worked until 6, had spaghetti, then back to art until 730. I'm just glad I am doing art.

I worked on some more random stamps. I have a few ideas I just want to play with. So I'm just carving and trying stuff. And it's fun. I also made this animal head circles I am going to see as Christmas ornaments. I think it'll look so cute.

James helped me finish the backs of those. Trimming strings once the glue dried. And then it was time to clean up.

I took a bath. I got bath milk/bubbles that smell like hot chocolate. And it was an excellent bath. And now I am moisturized and in my new jammies.

I am tired. I am feeling a little empty but most because I want to go to sleep.

I love you all. I hope tomorrow is a brighter day. I have the market and then we are going to have dinner at Jack's and Cindy's new house. I'm looking forward to it.

I hope you all have a great night. Sleep well!!

[d-railtheafro-gamer]

What’s Done In The Dark (excerpt)

Rainier Beach was located on the southeastern side of Seattle. Full of houses, noise, garbage, and poor people. It was nice enough during the day, a place you could walk down the street, enjoy some street art and you likely wouldn’t be caught up in drama. Every so often, a robbery, or a flasher shakes up the neighborhood, but most often it was business as usual. During the day, it was young people coming and going from school to Rainier Beach Library, or a friend’s apartment, or a bakery, or a liquor story, or a video store, or Safeway, or the indoor pool at the community center. It was boring but relatively safe during the day.

The night, however...had become very strange in April of 2006. Rumors flew from the mouths of everyone about strange phantom screams or whispers that claimed the streets. Stranger still were the weird, disembodied limbs that seemed to follow old ladies and wayward teens that found themselves alone after the sun had set. It was especially persistent at apartments and eateries, but they could be found anywhere, and only after businesses closed or when most people had left their establishments. It had gotten that most people were jumping at their own shadows with no real proof. There was one person who actually had that proof. And that person was a young man in an eerie looking mask. A fleshy, onyx face, with eyes that sit both high and deep in their sockets, a pair of shimmering yellow marbles. Possessing a broad sloping nose that took up most of the face, only stopping as a puffy growl of a muzzle rose to meet it, there was no mistaking the mask’s imitation: a lion’s face.

He stooped low against a tree growing near the apartment known as “Barton Place.” His eyes scanned slowly before he allowed himself to draw back to full height of 5 feet and 10 inches. Whatever he was searching for, he was definitely not finding.

Aww, gee kid, it looks like you lost it. How did you lose it!? It’s 8 feet tall and looks like the ghetto equivalent of “Monster Blood?” A voice that couldn’t be, that shouldn’t be, berated the one behind the mask.

“Shhhh,” was the only response. Distant screaming came from the west. The maskbearer charged into the trees, following the shouts. He leapt out of the trees, past the Thunderbird Treatment Center and through backyards. Traveling a half mile in a couple of minutes, he arrived at his destination, the old Bruan house. He watched two girls and a guy bolting away from the condemned home. Running away from a gigantic mass of shadow. The maskbearer smirked.

Looks like you found him, kid. Now whatcha gonna do?

*****

The house was a corpse, a dwelling life has long since abandoned. Salmon paint almost completely peeled from the rotted wood underneath. The flakes in huddled agreement, have gathered on the ground. The floorboards creaked with need. Sighing and bowing under the weight of age. The wood, demanding a reprieve from father time, had moldered and darkened with rot, threatening to drop the mold covered living room couches and the moth eaten, Persian rug into the long forgotten basement. For years, this house had been silent.

BANG! The thin weak wood that made up the northern wall of the room split and splintered into the living room. Wooden boards, plaster and mortar exploded inward as a projectile was propelled through the room like a rocket, pure moonlight followed behind, bathing it like the most holy of missiles. Clipping the top of a couch and smashing directly into the far wall of the room, the offending object stopped, lodged into the wall.

A cloud of dust and smoke obscured anything in the room, the moonlight struggled to permeate the dust cloud. A cough escaped as the ballistic projectile struggled to free itself. The projectile in question, was the young man in the mask. The voice that came from behind the mask, however, was much less intimidating than the mask itself. “Welp...I’m pretty hurt now.”

Aw, c’mon, don’t be such a wimp. He didn’t even hit you that hard. 

“Uh-huh, is that why the Bruan’s old house currently has a brand new door in the middle of the living room!?” He countered, gesturing to the new opening created with his own body. Moonlight finally illuminated the room as the cloud slowly dissipated.

That was barely a love tap, Jimmy-boy. Now quit your whining and get out of this hole before that thing comes in here and finishes the job.

A deep breath before a powerful grunt of effort. The wall wrenched forward and then the maskbearer was free. He dropped to the floor and stretched his back out until he heard a series of rapid and satisfying POPs. “When are you gonna call me by my name?”

I think I just did.

“You know what I-”

GRA-OOOOOOOOHHHH!!!

An unearthly howl interrupts the squabbling, and the moonlight is obscured once more, this time by an amorphous inky blob. The mass rolled back and forth as it struggled to squeeze itself into the opening much smaller than could accommodate. Finally, the blob forced its way into the room. All the while, it growled and sputtered, speaking snatches of words, incomplete speech.

“Hey, blobbinator you can’t take up space in here, we got zoning codes here in Seattle-”

The blob suddenly rushes “Jimmy,” forcing him to dive to his right and roll past the monster. He turns to see the creature, stuffed into the same hole he had been.

You picked now to try and talk to it!? Why? Just do the punchy and kicky thing and wrap this up so we can go home!

Jimmy swung a heavy fist into the monster and got a wet, unsteady SMACK for his troubles. His hand sank into the inky blob and he struggled to free himself. “Aw damn, that’s not right-WHOA!”

The mass lurched and Jimmy found his arm tugged hard. He was being pulled in.

“NoNoNoNo!” He shouted with every tug. “Lemme go!” Closer and closer the two came, but a final strain made the blob give a bit and the arm was nearly freed. “HA!”

Before freedom, however, came a thunderous kickback of inky residue as Jimmy suddenly found himself thrown into the air. He smacked into the ceiling and then crashed into the Persian rug.

On the ground again? I don’t think I should have to remind of this Jimmy-boy, but if you die, WE DIE!

He sat up, rising to his feet. “I hear you, stop yell-”

CRACK!

“Oh shi-” The floor gave way and a couch, the rug, and Jimmy all tumbled into the darkness below.

*****

A new, dim light poured into the lowest room of the house, where it was damp and dark and quiet. Persistent water droplets dripping in a random corner, pooling in a puddle on the concrete. The couch was upended, only one of the four wooden legs left on the couch. Pieces of wood decorated the walls, strewn about the place in an exploded halo of shrapnel. Jimmy climbed to his feet and looked up. He rolled away just in time to avoid the full weight of the monster crashing to the ground. He nearly collided with one of the basement walls and slapped his palms against it to stop his momentum.

You are losing this fight.

“I liked you better as a mute.”

And I liked you better when you didn’t suck.

The blob creature expanded around Jimmy. Covering every possible escape, bubbling and quivering on it���s edges, the creature attempted to engulf its enemy and found itself knocked backward. A fierce roundhouse, and another, arcing through the creature, forcing it to the center of the basement.  Another frantic rush forward found the creature narrowly missing it’s target and colliding with the wall.

SMACK!

Sheesh, this guy’s a bigger idiot’n you are.

“Shut up.” Jimmy stared at the mass, eyes straining to make out the details in the dim moonlight. The edges of the beast’s mass reached out like vestigial tentacles struggling against the wood, insulation and drywall. The limbs were quite formless, but as they struggled, they began to take the hints of shape, a leg here, an arm there, elongated hands and stump feet. Jimmy could not tear his eyes from the creature. Had it always looked like this?

You still worried about the horror, Jimmy-boy? Well, I got bad news for you, you ain’t seen nothin’ yet! All the creepy crawlies that go bump in the night, Kill one, and there’s a hundred more to deal with!

Jimmy was still rooted to the spot. “I know, it’s just that I’ve never seen something like-”

In an instant, an elongated hand brushed onto the bridge of Jimmy’s mask. At that moment, there was no more sound, no smell, he could not see, and there were no thoughts of his own. It was just he and the monster lost in a void. Even the mask’s voice was gone. Then, like a cold hand gliding up his spine, he heard the distant, almost inaudible voices at the back of his skull. It was quiet, but the only thing that filled his mind. He tried to ignore them, but they were persistent, insistent, and growing. “Do you think he saw me? Why is she standing like that? I’m gonna go to the old train tunnel. We can try and contact Chief Sealth-” He struggled to keep up with the barrage of words. But it was too many different voices. Too much information, he tried to focus on his own sense of self so he didn’t get lost in the words. What was merely a gale of voices he was lost in, now had become an ocean. “Ifhefindsuswe’redeadIfoundthemthatwayoutifwekeeponthispathwrongwaywearelostlikethekidisnottheshooterIdon’tevenhaveagunDON’TDOIT’SNOTTHEFIRSTTIMEYOUDIDTHISISIT-”

JAMES! GODDAMN IT!

Jimmy suddenly heard the mask again and his senses had returned. He grabbed the hand crawling up his mask and threw it to the ground where it twitched and convulsed. Before he could ask about what happened, the mask spoke first.

Okay, what I said about being worried, you should be. This thing is some kind of collective, and if it gets a hold of me again, it’s gonna rip me off and eat you like a candy bar.

“What happened to, ‘I die, we die!?’” Jimmy backed away from the creature, who was still trying to recover.

Rules change, kid. It knows you’re alive. Me, it can’t make heads or tails of me, and what it can’t understand, it don’t care about. It recognizes you as food, so it’s my suggestion that we GET THE HELL OUTTA HERE!

Jimmy glanced to the far side of the basement, located the stairs and dashed toward them. He vaulted up the stairs, narrowly avoiding the creature hurtling at him, barreling into the stairs, collapsing them. He had to nearly crab walk up the rest of the sad planks that managed to hold in place, but Jimmy leapt to the basement door and smashed through it with a grunt of force, wood pieces and old dust dancing through the air. He kept running until he was out on the front lawn, bathed in moonlight, staring back into the house.

Why are you stopping!? Get a move on, this isn’t a game of tag!

“What was-what is that?”

I already told you-

“Don’t mess with me, man! I will rip you off right-!”

NO!

Jimmy froze, the genuine fear he could feel in the mask scared him.

Jimmy...James, I promise, I will tell you what that thing is, but we can’t talk about it here.

Jimmy turned back to the house, and heard...silence.

“Do you think it’s gone?”

Hell no. Way too many voices. I think we just hurt it when we broke the link…

“I don’t know what that means-”

First, walk.

Jimmy grumbled and wandered into the neighborhood behind the house. He was careful to keep to the shadows even as the sun broke the horizon.

*****

Jimmy, now maskless, stared at the glassy surface of an office building window across from Space Needle Park. His dark brown eyes were encircled with deep bags. His fade, nappy and unkempt. His umber face, caked with grime and sweat. He couldn’t deal with how he looked, but he was too exhausted to get home and grab a shower. Tearing his eyes away from the monster he had become, he stared up at the Space Needle against the dim orange clouds from the cool blue street. Would ya look at that. We survived to see another sunrise.

Jimmy sucked at the fresh air for a few gulps and then groaned, “I can’t believe we were dealing with that thing for nine hours!”

I can. You really suck at dealing with Onyinyo. Jimmy nearly reached into his backpack and tossed the mask onto the street. 

Hey, don’t get mad at the truth.

The teen sighed and walked along Broad Street past the Space Needle loop, thanking every power that there were no cars parked there so early on this Saturday morning. Nobody to see him look like a crazy person talking to himself.

Why do you talk out loud anyway? We’re mentally linked, I know your every thought.

He shrugged as he walked. “It’s a force of habit.”

Sounds like you just love the sound of your own voice. Jimmy rolled his eyes at this.

“Look who’s talking?” Jimmy’s brow furrowed in consternation.

Yeah, the mask responded with a sardonic chuckle. I love the sound of my own voice. It’s just an added bonus that it also pisses you off!

No-win situation with a dude literally in your head.

That’s right Jimmy-boy, so don’t bother, I’ve been arguing since before your great-grandparents were even thought about.

“Okay, you love to hear yourself, now explain what that was?”

Sheesh, so pushy.

“Hey! You ever want me to put you back on again?”

Alright, alright, you know about most of the Onyinyo we deal with?

Jimmy didn’t notice that he had nodded.

This thing is like a...not exactly a greatest hits. It’s just made of people, no animals, no demons. All dead, all don’t wanna be.

Jimmy eventually found a bench and sank onto it. “Okay, so how’s that any different from anything else we’ve seen?”

I told you, this thing eats people. Specifically, it eats life, the most vital lives it can find. It kills ‘em dead. Leaves nothing but husks behind.

Jimmy felt a chill that had nothing to do with the morning air.

Where we come in, is the fact that when it eats something, it gets bigger.

“It gets BIGGER!? How!? Why!? Wha-!?”

Yes, it gets bigger, now don’t interrupt! The mask snapped. As it gets bigger, it needs more to eat.

Jimmy raised an eyebrow. “So...the more it eats…”

Yup, the hungrier it gets. It drew the short straw in the genetic lottery department. But, unfortunately for us, the mask became much more smug. And by us I, really mean you-

Jimmy threw his arms up, “C’mon!”

Anyway, you let it touch us...and now it knows that we are a buffet.

Jimmy couldn’t help himself, he grabbed his backpack and tore it open to look at the ovoid plank of a mask. “What do you mean by that!?”

You recall me telling you that you aren’t the first person to wear me.

It dawned on him, “grandpa.”

Aw, now you got the hamsters turnin’ upstairs. Yeah, he wore me, but he wasn’t the first, he wasn’t even in the first hundred.

Jimmy’s mind filled with a million half-formed questions. First hundred-? How does that even-? What’s the purpose of-? Have girls worn-? Is there a manual-? Will he even tell-?

Kid!

Jimmy jerked back to reality, sitting on the bench, clutching the mask between trembling hands.

You’re doing that thing. Where you have more thoughts than I can keep up with.

“Sorry, I just...I don’t…” He struggled to form complete sentences.

Aw great, I broke him.

“...Spark Notes.”

What?

“I need a set of Spark Notes.”

Is this a video game thing?

“Answers. A cheat sheet.”

What? Nooooo, we’ve been over this-

“No, we only went over what you want me to know. Old mask of power, put on this earth to quell the wild dead, and some kind of...collection of souls. And I need to know what-”

See, this is why your grades are so average. You don’t listen, I’m an aspect of powers beyond your understanding. I’ve been worn by countless people. For power, for protection, for glory, for vengeance. And, y’know, whatever you call yourself doing.

“Superhero-ing.” Jimmy spit defiantly.

Childish and I’m pretty sure that’s not English. And what do you call what we’ve been doing?

“Suicidal?”

Good point. But, your grandpa had to believe you were worthy of donning me.

“Why do you need me for help?”

Your grandpa’s just another link in a looooooong chain, kid.

“You’re dodging the question.”

It’s an answer you’re not ready for.

Jimmy leans back and closes his eyes. The living ink is waiting there, behind his eyes, quivering, spasming, waiting for Jimmy to edge too close. For just one. More. Taste. His eyes popped open as he jerked again.

Would you quit doing that!?

He took a couple of shaky breaths. “I saw-”

I know what you saw.

“Then why won’t you tell me anything!?”

Jimmy slammed the mask down on his lap.

Kid, I’ll be honest with you. There’s rules to this shit. And I know it’s frustrating, but I will say you ain’t askin’ properly.

Jimmy felt the last four words in his core, like those words were the only real tangibles the mask have ever given him.

He stood up, crammed the mask back into his tattered, faded green backpack and continued down Broad Street to Denny Way and the number 8 bus stop. He moved past a mother, father and two small children to sit on the far end of the busport.

Fine, Jimmy had to struggle not to talk out loud. Could you PLEASE tell me what is going on with that thing?

A beat of silence. Sorry kid, that’s not how-

“Aw, c’mon!” Jimmy realized he shouted out loud and tensed up as he tried not to look at the family that was certainly staring at him.

Hahahaha, you really want to make the world think you’re crazy.

It’s not funny, Jimmy struggled to keep his thoughts in.

It’s so funny! But, seriously kid, that’s still wrong.

Jimmy’s eyes widened. “But-”

No time for your dumb teen questions. But, I’ll tell ya this, you have an objective. We have to get back to that house tonight and find a way to banish that thing, or send it to the other side, or trick it into a hellmouth or something.

“The hell!? Why?” Jimmy glared at the mask like he wanted to fight it.

Because if you don’t go to it, by nightfall, it’s comin’ to us...

*****

[pinballoriginstories]

Nick (NWB) - Richmond, VA

A friend if mine, Dennis Dodel, is a long-time collector in St. Louis. He was contacted by a guy that had a few games new in the box. There was a flasher (floor standing slot machine with lamps instead of reels), a Silver Sails, and a Bikini that had recently been unboxed. 

The guy selling wanted a ridiculous amount for it. Dennis was very patient and waited him out for five years. This year (2018), in July, the guy finally agreed to a price Dennis could stand for the Silver Sails. 

Silver Sails was made at an interesting time for Bally. In 1962, there was fear that bingo pinball would be outlawed in the United States. Bally had two models in production at once: Silver Sails and the sister game, Golden Gate. Golden Gate and Silver Sails are extremely desirable titles due to their ruleset and features (I'll tell you a bit about them below).  But the legal climate was changing rapidly. Bally was throwing the games out the door as quickly as possible. I've heard stories of Golden gates with incorrect backglasses or playfields. This particular game was sold to Central distributing in Nebraska. They immediately put it on closeout in hopes of selling it before the law changed. They sold it to an operator in Minnesota, and the law changed as it was in transit. He couldn't operate it any longer. So it sat. And sat. Then Dennis started working on it. 

So, I started working on Dennis ;-). He wanted to unbox in public, which is super cool, but he was thinking of the Houston arcade show. I suggested (a few times - ok, constantly), that he consider York and the Bingo Row. I've convinced multiple owners to bring bingo pinball machines to York for the public to play. It's the biggest presence at a show for bingo pinball, and I selfishly wanted to see it, of course, but I thought it would be a great place for the public, already expecting bingos, to see it. 

It turned out better than I even imagined. There was a huge crowd around as the game was unboxed. We worried that it would be cosmetically damaged from being stored in an unheated warehouse in Minnesota for 56 years, or that the game would he mechanically kaput due to grease hardening in the motors. I brought a variety of tools and liquids to get the game playable, but almost none were needed. It was the most amazing time capsule, and it worked almost flawlessly right out of the box. 

I am so thankful to Dennis for trucking it all the way from St. Louis to share with everyone. Here is a thread with a couple of videos and lots of pics: https://pinside.com/pinball/forum/topic/bingo-row-at-the-2018-york-show

Silver Sails has one of the more complex rulesets in bingo pinball. As with any bingo, your goal is to get three, four, or five numbers in a row on the bingo card on the backglass. The order of these numbers do not correspond to the order of numbers on the playfield. 

Each horizontal, vertical, and diagonal line are different colors - red, yellow, and green. 

When you put in a coin, the game resets and sets your odds to the default: 4 replays for three in a row, 16 for 4, and 96 for 5. 

As you continue to insert coins, you may be given an increase in these odds in one or more colors. 

The game also has a lot of features to help you win. The primary feature being the magic screen. The magic screen is a chain-driven set of panels that rotate out the main bingo card and reveal tetris-block-like sections in red, yellow and green. Within these sections, the balls do not need to touch to win. Meaning, you only need three or more in the entire colored section to score!

The game also has super sections, or specially marked colored sections. If the feature is lost, you only need 2 in the section to score as 3, 3 to score 4, and 4 to score 5. There is a blue section that only contains three numbers and a corresponding blue section feature. If you light the blue section, and land either three or two balls in it (according to the feature), you can earn either 300 or 600 replays. But that's not all. There is also a feature called "OK". The letters in the word "silver" will light red, one at a time, based on how high your green odds climb. If the panel marked ok is lit, it allows the screen to move in the opposite direction of the other sections, revealing an orange section. Landing only two balls in this orange section allow you to start a free game with a guaranteed set of odds and features, as determined by the red letter in the word silver. There's no sound like it. Only two more features: the gate feature will light occasionally. This reveals a purple section. If you pocket three balls in the purple section, you can start the"Golden game" only available on this and Golden gate. In the Golden game, you cannot insert any coins to improve your chances - you get what you get. Landing either two or three balls in one of the special Golden sections will award you from 75-600 replays!!!

Finally, if you don't achieve a win in five balls, you can pay for a chance at up to three extra balls. 

The game will lock you out of moving the screen based on the "time tree". Normally it will lock before you shoot your fourth ball, adding a lot of challenge to the game. This can be extended to after your fifth ball, which allows you to score in all three colors (if you're good). 

The complexity of these games, that are purely EM, are some of the things that drew me to them. The gameplay is also top notch. It has taught me a lot about ball control, since there are no flippers. You have to grab the cabinet and shake, pull, nudge, push etc. 

I was so excited to play the second game ever on that brand new machine. 

It was a once in a lifetime opportunity for sure. There was one other found about a decade ago, but it is a rare event indeed. I've never seen a game that old unboxed and likely will not again. It definitely upped the cool factor that it is such a great game, too!

I love these games and hope everyone can find some enjoyment with them. That's part of the thought behind Bingo Row - show people these cool games in a variety of styles, and teach them how to play. 

Dennis and I won awards for our games at the show, which was very humbling indeed. The only two pinball awards given, and both for bingos. It was quite a show, for a number of reasons.

[estellewoodd-blog]

HABITS Articles

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Some drugs might result in light feces. Cool-toned individuals brighten along with white, platinum, chocolate. Ladies dressed in hot colours are often extremely welcoming as well as smile frequently. And also reddish is actually the colour of the urgent lights of a rescue or even the flashers on your auto.

[islamfakrul]

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[imagineclaireandjamie]

Does Jamie ever visit Claire in Boston in the Vietnam AU?

Vietnam AU

They took three days to drive up I-81 to Boston.

On Monday morning, Claire called her advisor to tell him she’dmiss the entire week of classes. Which, in the big scheme of things, wasn’tthat much of an issue – she needed to process the data she’d collected in Dr.Beaton’s clinic by the end of the semester, but that was still six weeks away.

And there was no power on earth that would part her fromJamie now.

As she had made the necessary arrangements – sitting inbed, the Fraser plaid wrapped around her shoulders, sipping the strong blackcoffee Jamie had brewed for her – she watched him pack away clothes and booksfor the trip.

They didn’t know how long he would stay – only that they’duse the car trip to figure it out.

To figure *everything* out.

So quickly they had come back to each other – so quicklyeverything in their separate lives had to be merged.

But there was no fear that it wouldn’t be figured out –just confidence that it *would*.

On Monday afternoon, with their suitcases and a basket offood safely tucked away in the bed of Jamie’s battered pickup, she had kissedIan and Jenny goodbye. Jamie made his farewells with Murtagh – the older manclasping his godson in a long embrace – and then they were rumbling down thegravel driveway, pausing at the gate to wave at the Murrays and Frasers stillstanding on the front porch of the big house.

And then Claire had flipped on the car radio, and they glidedthrough the trees, Jamie’s right hand resting on her thigh, both of themquietly humming along to The Eagles:

Cause I got a peaceful easy feeling // And I know you won’tlet me down…

They made it to the quiet, hazy mountains of ShenandoahNational Park by dusk. Jamie parked the truck at one of the many scenicoverlooks, and Claire slid over on the bench seat, resting her head on hisshoulder, watching the last tendrils of sun sink below the horizon.

“I don’t know how we’ll make it work, Claire – but wewill. I promise you.”

His thumb traced a mole at the top of her right arm,darting beneath her shirtsleeve for a caress.

“I know we will. We are neither of us whole, alone.”

He kissed the crown of her head. She wrapped her armsaround his middle, hooking her thumbs in the loops of his jeans.

One mile over we’ll be there and we’ll see you // Tentrue summers we’ll be there and laughing too…

“I don’t want to be half a person again, Claire,” hewhispered, so softly. “I couldn’t bear it.”

“Hush,” she soothed, leaning up and quieting him with akiss. “You won’t have to. We’ll get to Boston, figure out how long you’ll stay.I only have a little over a year left – that’s not terrible. Not when it tookus so long to find each other again. And then we’ll go back to Lallybroch – forgood.”

He brought her closer – a long, deep kiss.

“And we have to plan our church wedding,” he breathedagainst her lips. “I can’t wait to marry you again.”

Even in the half-dark, her smile was dazzling.

–

They slept in the cool, fresh air that night, soothed tosleep by the rustling trees, nestled under a pile of blankets in the back ofthe truck.

Sometime in the darkness, Jamie woke Claire and made loveto her, slowly and tenderly, not speaking. She watched stars winking throughthe lattice of black branches overhead, and fell asleep again with hiscomforting weight still warm on top of her. Praying this wasn’t all a dream.

Overjoyed with the dawn to find that they were stilltogether.

Celebrating with a wake-up kiss.

–

They passed through Maryland that morning, stopping for asteaming, mouth-watering bucket of crab by the side of the road. Jamiedelighted in licking the Old Bay seasoning from her fingers.

Then through Harrisburg and Scranton, Pennsylvania. Forests.Coal country.

They listened to country western, and hymns, and rock,and whatever they could find on the radio.

Talked about Boston – and Boone – and what they wouldname their children.

Somewhere near Binghamton, New York that song came on.And Jamie wordlessly pulled over on the interstate, turned on his flashers, andseized Claire.

Shaking hands and unyielding belt buckles and a burstseam in Jamie’s jeans were no match for their sudden, desperate hunger tobecome one.

Outside in the cold distance a wildcat did prowl // Tworiders were approaching // And the wind begins to howl…

Gasping for breath when it was over – quick, but not soquick that Jamie didn’t see to her needs – Claire insisted they find a place tostay for the night.

The Bonnie Motor Inn was run by a fellow veteran – he gaveJamie a 20% discount on a room that was small, and clean, and theirs.

They shared a bucket of fried chicken at the small dinerdown the block – then a long, restorative shower. And sleep, after gigglingover Johnny Carson, ridiculously entwined on the twin mattress.

They made it to Boston by late afternoon on Wednesday, Jamiefaithfully following Claire’s directions through a leafy residentialneighborhood that didn’t quite match his mental image of where she would live.

But then they pulled into a driveway – and Jamie saw Dr.Joe Abernathy sweating over his lawnmower – and Claire threw open the door,racing across the garden to tackle him in a bear hug.

Jamie couldn’t hear them until he cut the engine –

“…still can’t believe it, Joe. I swear I must be living insome kind of fairy tale – ”

- and saluted the man who had helped Claire save hislife.

Joe wiped his sweaty brow on his sleeve, straightened,and returned the salute.

“Bout time you two wised up,” he smiled. “Come on – let’ssee what Gail’s got cooking for dinner.”

 –

The Eagles - Peaceful Easy Feeling

Yes - Roundabout

Jimi Hendrix - All Along The Watchtower

[cathierrr]

Chapter 2 ~ First Date 10/25/1985

After Nick and I broke up I needed to keep busy and had the opportunity to work three jobs. On week days I worked at the BBB, in the evening at a popular furniture store called Curtis Fields a mile from the BBB. Saturday was always busy from 9 until 2 cleaning homes. In the beginning I cleaned for friends and later friends of their friends.

This Saturday I was cleaning for my unofficial adopted father, Dino Panciera. I loved him like a father. Dino was a retired Rhode Island Italian mortician. Bored with retirement he joined the sales department for the BBB shortly before I started there.

When I first met Dino in 1984 he and his wife, Yolanda were separated and he was living in Palm Beach Gardens at Longwood Country Club. Yolanda lived in their Rhode Island home on Narragansett Bay. Dino’s girlfriend Geri Destefanis was a widow living in WPB.

According to Geri the death of Dino and Yolanda’s adopted son Stephen was the main cause of their separation. Dino’s son Stephen was only 25 when he killed himself in 1978. I was 2 years younger than Stephen and was mistaken a lot for Dino’s daughter when we went to lunch. Dino loved it and was in my life until he died of cancer at age 73 in 2002.

In 1985 Yolanda agreed to move to FL in an effort to save their marriage. Dino got a place on the beach per Yolanda’s request. Dino did not break it off with Geri. On this particular Saturday I cleaned Geri’s in the morning. Dino stopped by and Geri made the three of us breakfast. In the afternoon I cleaned at Dino and Yolanda’s beach home. After Dino returned from golf, Yo made the three of us lunch.

Was this an odd situation? Definitely, but I’m not going to judge. You see these three people loved me too and were there for me. I can still hear Dino’s voice “I love ya kid. You know how to keep your mouth shut!”

When I married Rick, Dino walked me down the aisle. While planning the wedding Dino went with me several times to find the best place for the reception. On our wedding day Dino’s wedding gift was paying for half of our wedding reception! Dino was the father I always wanted. Geri stepped up as mother of the bride for me and lit the candles during our wedding.

After cleaning I came home and finished my packing. Rick asked me to go to the Halloween party just the night before, I had nothing really to wear. My prior Halloween’s entailed me making my costume from scratch and usually would win several prizes. Luckily for me Robin had her old cheerleading outfit. Not my best costume ever but on short notice it would do.

That evening when Rick picked me up he told Robin and I that he didn’t have a costume. Robin told him to go as a flasher. Robin remembered I had a rain coat that would fit him as well as the perfect squirt gun to complete the ensemble. Considering this was our first date I would have preferred not to whip out the squirt gun.

A few years earlier I worked at the St. Louis BBB. My supervisor, Betsy Hooper was something of a bully and you didn’t want to cross her. Betsy planned a party that was after work at her home in downtown St. Louis. Her party was similar to a Tupperware party, only instead of food containers it was sex toys.

This party was not really my thing and I lived in IL. I tried hard to get out of going. I lived 51 miles from work. My day would begin with driving from Jerseyville to Alton 21 miles. In Alton I would park at Lincoln Douglas Square. This was where Lincoln and Douglas had their famous final debate on October 15, 1858. It’s also the bus stop that drove me 30 more miles to 440 4th St. I had a view of the Arch from our building. I spent 4 hours daily on this commute for almost 5 years.

Betsy would only take yes for an answer. She would personally drive me to my car at the bus stop after the party. Needless to say I attended the party. It was fun and I felt like I had to buy something. There was a life sized penis ice mold for a drink that cracked me up (later it cracked up my granny Garnet when it popped up in her drink). My final purchase was a penis squirt gun. To this day I still have the squirt gun...LOL

Since I was moving to Carmen’s in the morning I had packed everything. Had to unpack a couple of boxes before I found the squirt gun and rain coat. Rick cracked up over the squirt gun. His costume was a huge hit at the party that night. .

We were going to Mark Burnett’s early and have dinner with him and his girlfriend before anybody came to the party. When we got into Rick’s Ford Ranger truck he immediately apologized for picking me up in his work truck. He then elaborated that his 1976 Corvette was in the shop.

I’ve never been a superficial monetary kind of person. According to my daughter’s podcasts I’m an old hippie and she’s correct on that point . It never crossed my mind that his truck was not good enough for our date and I told Rick that. As he drove us to Mark’s he asked if I would mind getting an envelope out of the glove box for him. Not a problem, found the bank envelope and handed it to him. Rick handed it back to me and asked me if I minded counting it for him.

In my mind as I am counting $5,000 in cash, I’m thinking good grief this guy must be a freaking drug dealer. I told him what had just crossed my mind. He told me he did smoke pot but he assured me he wasn’t a drug dealer. He just wanted to make sure the amount of cash was accurate.

The money was a down payment on his first sprinkler job on his own. I was close though, I found out later that his first client was a drug dealer laundering money by building a tree nursery. I would also find out later that Rick was not licensed to do irrigation jobs.

Rick had an irrigation company that would end up doing jobs without a license for six years. This will be a problem and constant stress for him until he finally passed the test and was licensed in the Spring of 1992. Rick missed his brother David’s wedding because his test fell on the same day.

We arrived in Wellington and I met Mark and his girlfriend whose name I can’t remember. I really liked them, especially Mark. Mark and Rick became friends while working together as life insurance salesmen a few years earlier.

Mark was a shoe salesman when we met and later would become a mailman. His girlfriend was currently a mail lady and a widow with 2 children. Mark was a good friend and one of the groomsmen at our wedding. Amy and Mark would hook up during our wedding when his girlfriend left early. About a year after our wedding Mark and his girlfriend will break up. Mark will move to TN. I’m not sure if Rick stayed in touch with him.

Just before the Halloween party started I changed into my cheerleading costume. Rick was already in a short sleeve shirt and shorts. Once he put on the raincoat and filled up the squirt gun he was good to go, except for one thing. He wondered if I would put his “Rolex” in my purse for safe keeping. Smiling as I flipped over the watch, glanced at the back of it and put it in my purse.

By this time I had the impression Rick was trying his best to impress me.

First the mention of his corvette (in ten years we were together the corvette was operational about three months tops). On Danica’s podcast she mentioned that at one time I put sugar in the corvettes gas tank. Seriously? Why would anyone put sugar in a gas tank of a car that never ran?

Second he needs me to count his cash. Cmon, It’s hard to believe he hadn’t counted $5,000 cash prior to leaving the job site.

Finally, the Rolex. Flashers don’t take their watches off. Why would you need me to keep your fake Rolex in my purse? Rick thought since I hadn’t commented on his watch he would draw my attention to it. He thought I was impressed and I let him think it.

Guess what I received from him that Christmas? A fake Rolex 😉

[inadarkdarkroom]

Almost There Dad

I work in Chicago but live in Columbus, OH. I commute home every other weekend. I’ve been doing this for four years so I pretty much have my routes down (I drive because flying is too much $$$ and hassle).

From IL to OH, I take the 80/94 to 65 south to 70 east. It’s boring but quick.

On the way back, I go a different way: From Columbus, I take 270 to rte 23 north to US30 west. I take the freeway around Ft Wayne and take 30 all the way to the 80 turnpike.

Last January, I needed to be in the office on Monday (I usually work from home). So I left at like 2 AM, which would get me to work at 7:30 or 8:00 AM after changing at my apartment.

I am very used to the route and know exactly where the rest stops are and gas stations with decent coffee.

The first rest stop I stopped at was on Rte 23, about an hour out. I stop here because it’s a good two hours to the next one.

I used the urinal and written on top in very neat handwriting it said: I I want to suck your hard cock - 1-18 11:30 PM, about 3 hours ago. Above the urinal, on the wall was a pretty decent cartoon of a cock being sucked. Next to it was a depiction of anal sex. Written beside it was: I want your hard cock in my ass.

I finished up. I noticed there were several trucks parked in the lot and I kind of wondered if it was one of them and if they’d found their good time.

I got in my car and drove off. I have a Subaru Forester with a sticker on the rear window that says “Ohio State Dad”.

I stopped for more coffee at a Speedway (didn’t have to pee) and got on US30, heading west.

Just after I-75, I pulled into the next rest area.

I walked in and was shocked at what was written on the walls. It was the same cartoonist, but this time the cartoon pictured a vivisection. Very realistic organs were next to a torso and a kneeling man had his face fully entrenched in the body cavity.

I have to admit that this kind of scared me, but I had to pee. On top of the urinal was written: I want to rip you apart and fuck your guts. I want to eat your shit-filled intestines. 1-19 2:45.

I looked at my watch, it was just after 4:30. I was gaining on this guy.

I couldn’t stop thinking about this. I think the fact that the drawings were so professional and the spelling was so good that it creeped me out even more. I drove on.

I watched as I passed cars and trucks, I tried to see in the windows but it was still dark. I was passed only twice, once by a big BMW and once by an older Chevy Impala, both had Indiana plates.

An hour and a half later I was approaching the next rest stop. I didn’t really have to go, but I had to see if there was more graffiti.

I was the only car in the parking lot. There were a couple of trucks. I walked to the bathroom. I am not ashamed to admit that I was more than a little afraid and that I had gotten a wrench out of the toolbox I carried with me on these trips.

The second I hit the lobby I could smell shit. I almost turned around, but I had to look. I walked into the men’s room. The lights are automatic and they flickered on. In foot high letters, written in shit (I think it was shit, anyway), it said, “ALMOST THERE DAD! OHIO! LOL!!!”

I almost fainted. The thick smell of shit and the fact that somehow I felt that they were talking to me (Dad? Ohio? Ohio State Dad?). I stepped back and then noticed that a raccoon or groundhog or something had been ripped apart and it’s carcass and guts were laying next to a stall.

I got the fuck out of there.

Once outside, I felt better, but as I walked to my car, I heard a whispered bark and I swear some muffled laughter. I looked around, but it was dark and there were bushes and trees all over.

I didn’t want to run because I knew if I did, I would panic. I fast-walked, got in my car, started it and got on the road.

Once my phone had synced up, I called 9-1-1 and reported the vandalism at the last rest stop. They took the call like no big deal and I didn’t elaborate. I was about 5 minutes from Indiana.

Five minutes into Indiana, I noticed emergency flashers on the side of the road up ahead. It was the Impala that had passed me hours ago. A guy was standing with his thumb out just ahead of his car, illuminated by the headlights. It was maybe 18 degrees and he just wore a hoodie. He looked cold. I almost stopped, but as I slowed, I noticed dark brown stains on his yellow sweatshirt. And his hands were filthy with something dark. Maybe grease from trying to fix his car, maybe shit and blood. I sped up and his thumb turned into the finger and his other hand joined it and he screamed at me. His mouth seemed too wide and his teeth looked too small and there were too many of them.

I downshifted, jumped on the accelerator, and took out.

I called 9-1-1 again and reported the stranded motorist. I didn’t make a big deal about it, just gave the mile marker number. I didn’t tell them that he had screamed “FUCK YOU, OHIO!!!”

I didn’t stay on US 30. I took US69 to the turnpike and only stopped where there were a lot of people.

I tried looking for any mention of the vandalism or the stranded motorist but found nothing.

I now rent a car every trip and I don’t use US30.

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