#I literally just saw the sc from road to show and decided

[partially-incorrect-enstars]

[lastbluetardis]

Home for the Holidays (1/2)

This is part one of my gift to @timeladyelpia for the @dwsecretsanta gift exchange! Apologies for the delay; I hope you enjoy this! Your info said you enjoy reunions and established relationships, so that’s what this is :)

Ten x Rose, 4400 words, teen

Also tagging @doctorroseprompts 

Summary: Despite being locked away in different universes, the Doctor and Rose have managed to stay connected through their marriage bond, celebrating holidays and special events even through the impenetrable distance. After celebrating three Christmases apart, fate brings them together once more just in time for the holidays.

Note: If anybody remembers this little ficlet (If Only in My Dreams) I wrote for last year’s Ficmas, I borrowed from that idea and wrote the reunion. However, you do NOT need to have read that in order to understand this.

AO3

The holidays were one of the hardest times for the Doctor. Though he didn’t naturally celebrate—at least not any Earth or human holiday—Rose had. Oh, he would join in the festivities with his past companions, wishing them Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, Joyous Festivus, or whatever holiday they in particular celebrated, but he was always on the outside looking in.

But all of that had changed when he’d met Rose, when he regenerated into his current body and left her and the Earth to fend for themselves during a Sycorax invasion while he was—helpfully—in a regenerative coma. All on Christmas Day.

When it all had blown over—blown up, more like it, thanks to Harriet Jones, former Prime Minister—he had strangely been invited to Christmas dinner at the Tylers’. Even more strangely, he’d said yes. After he changed, of course. He couldn’t very well have Christmas dinner in his borrowed jimjams. No, he’d gone back to his TARDIS and found himself a new outfit before heading back up to Rose and her mother.

Even now, remembering the look of appreciation in Rose’s eyes when she beheld him in his new suit sent butterflies through his stomach.

He had stayed for dinner and the snow-that-wasn’t-snow and for dessert. And even once that was finished, once the food was cleared away and the dishes piled high in the sink for the following morning, he hadn’t wanted to leave quite yet. So he had accepted Rose’s invitation to sleep on the sofa for the night. Not that Time Lords needed much sleep. (However, newly-regenerated Time Lord could certainly use a nap.)

He had spent the next couple weeks with the Tylers, which was virtually unheard of for him. But the TARDIS had been in no shape to fly, thanks to whatever jiggery-pokery Rose had done to the old girl to look into her heart to become the Bad Wolf. And thanks to his less-than-stellar driving while his brain was imploding and collapsing during some regeneration complications. 

No matter, he had been able to get his beloved ship flying again a week or so after the New Year. In the interim, between TARDIS repairs, he had reconnected with Rose. Answering all of her questions regarding regeneration. Filling in the gaps of her memory during her time as Bad Wolf. Recounting all of their adventures together to prove to her, without a doubt, that he was still the Doctor. Still her Doctor, though he’d never exactly stated it as such.

(Little did he know then that Rose had already considered him her Doctor. She later confessed to him that his earnest attempts to convince her of his identity had been endearing.)

On the evening before he and Rose were to depart for the stars once more, Rose had stayed up late with him in Jackie’s living room and had presented him with a small package. She had seemed slightly embarrassed or self-conscious as he ripped into the brown-paper-wrapped parcel; she had begun rambling about traditions and new beginnings and something about “together”, which he very much liked to think about. He liked the idea of him and Rose together forever.

Upon indelicately ripping off the wrapping paper, he saw a simple white box. When he removed the lid, a Christmas ornament lay nestled in a soft bed of shredded cotton. His hearts had constricted in his chest as he pulled out the ornament, two penguins clad in hats and scarves leaning in to touch the tips of their beaks together. Beneath, in an elegant script, were the words “The Doctor + Rose’s First Christmas” and the year.

“I know it’s silly,” Rose said, still looking anywhere but him. “Christmas is over now, and it’s not like we even had a tree in the TARDIS to put it on, but I saw it and couldn’t resist. Obviously, I wrote in our names. Not many ornaments have ‘the Doctor’ written on ‘em.”

He pulled her into his arms, silencing her words. “It’s perfect,” he said through the lump in his throat. “Tell you what. We can put it up on the tree next Christmas. And get another ornament to go with it. Eh? Can be a tradition.”

Rose wrinkled her nose. “You put up a Christmas tree in that box of yours?”

“Not usually,” he admitted. “But you celebrate Christmas. I want the TARDIS to feel like home for you, and if celebrating all of your little human holidays makes it feel like home, then I want to celebrate with you, however you’d like. If you’d like.”

Her expression softened and she smiled shyly at him. “The TARDIS is already my home, Doctor.”

The admission both floored and delighted him. A big, beaming grin split his face in two, and the echoing expression lit up her face too.

He very nearly kissed her then, and he spent the rest of the night, after Rose had gone to bed, cursing himself for not seizing the opportunity.

No matter. They got there eventually, after a few hiccups in the road.

By the time their second Christmas rolled around, they were an actual proper couple, and they went shopping together not only for their first Christmas tree, but also for the companion to the penguin ornament. They’d decided on two polar bears decorating a Christmas tree together, snouts pressed together in a supposed kiss.

They had bought other decorations as well, but they displayed their couples’ ornaments proudly on the front of the tree, making sure no branches, lights, or baubles obscured them from view.

“I wonder how long it’ll take before we have enough couples’ ornaments to decorate the tree just with them,” Rose mused as they de-decked their tree after the holidays. “Ages and ages, I’ll bet.”

“Well, it’s a good thing we’ve got ages and ages,” he replied, a goofy grin on his face. “Forever, in fact.”

And they did. They had forever together. Whatever Rose had done as Bad Wolf had changed her at the cellular level. Her body wasn’t breaking down at all; it had enough regenerative energy—courtesy of the TARDIS—to replenish any aged and dying cells before they turned hazardous. For all intents and purposes, she would live just as long as the Doctor. Longer, perhaps.

Upon realizing what that meant for them, for their future together, they decided to bind themselves together in every way possible. One soul in two bodies. At least, that was how Rose had liked to think of it when he had explained the telepathic marriage bond. An open channel between them, their minds, allowing them to see the most intimate parts of the other.

There had been no one the Doctor had wanted to share that sort of connection with, apart from Rose. There had never been anyone like her before—nobody he loved as deeply, fiercely, wholly, eternally—and there would never be anyone like her again.

Not even now that she was gone.

It had been over three years since Torchwood. Since Canary Wharf. Since the Daleks and Cybermen and parallel worlds and Void breaches that ended with the multiverse being saved, but with Rose being trapped permanently in another world.

In those first few moments, as he watched the Void breach fold in on itself like a crumpled piece of paper, the Doctor had held his breath and tensed for the inevitable slash of pain in his mind as his bond with Rose broke. But when a minute passed, then two, then ten and his bond with Rose was still there, he relaxed a fraction.

The anguish and desperation clanging from her half of the bond was what kept him sane, funnily enough. Regardless of their mutual devastation, the fact that he could still feel her in his mind meant he hadn’t truly lost her. She wasn’t truly gone. He wasn’t truly alone.

It had taken months for them to adapt and adjust to their new reality. Time moved around them differently; Pete’s World, as he’d dubbed it, moved slightly faster than their prime universe. And time didn’t really exist in the TARDIS. However, they tried to sync their internal body clocks with each other, to sleep and eat and relax at the same time to make up for the fact that they weren’t physically with each other.

Despite having his wife in his head at all times, he still missed her. He missed her more with every passing day. Nevertheless, they had coped as best they could.

However, the holidays still hurt. It hurt to try to celebrate with Rose when she was—literally—worlds away. Universes away. It hurt to go out and get a Christmas tree. It hurt to decorate it. But above all, it hurt to pick out and purchase their couples’ ornament alone. He’d had to pick out the last three on his own, and if his calculations were correct—which they were, because he was quite brilliant—he would be needing to go out and buy a new one soon. Their sixth overall, the fourth he would buy alone.

Despite Rose’s confidence in the Dimension Cannon—a clever bit of technology that the Torchwood researchers and engineers in Pete’s World had been developing for well over a year now—it seemed as though the Cannon hadn’t worked enough to bring her back to this world in time for Christmas.

But he didn’t care when she came home. He just cared that she did come home. One day.

He had been skeptical of the Cannon when Rose first informed him of its creation, but now that it began showing signs of life—acting as a crude teleport—he was cautiously optimistic that one day it would work. Once he or any of the Torchwood scientists managed to figure out how to poke a hole through the Void, through the fabric of reality, large enough for Rose to squeeze through, but small enough that the entire microcosm of the multiverse didn’t implode in the process. It was a delicate balancing act.

However, now that Rose was busy testing the Dimension Cannon, letting it blast her to whatever corner of her universe it fancied, their bond was a little more strained and out of sync. It had nearly given him a hearts-attack when she went utterly silent one day, only to reappear in his mind hours later as though nothing had happened.

She had since taken to warning him about when she was planning a Cannon jump so he wouldn’t be alarmed if she disappeared from his head for a few hours. Though he appreciated it, it didn’t stop his anxiety from squeezing a tight band around his chest. Every time her half of the bond went quiet, he feared he would never hear from her again.

Inevitably, though, she always returned. She would always return.

He had taken to running errands on the days she did her Cannon jumps. Not only did it distract him from the silence in his head, but it gave him a break from trying to keep his body clock synced with Rose’s. He didn’t need to concern himself about when or where he went, or for how long.

On one particular day in the beginning of December—for Rose, at least… Pete’s World had gotten completely out of sync with their universe by now—the Doctor had decided to visit Ghealach, a small moon on the other end of the galaxy that was basically a junk shop masquerading as a bazaar. The unique feature of Ghealach, however, was that it was utterly psy-null. Telepathy was strictly forbidden as a security measure; the shop owners didn’t want a telepathic being creeping into their heads to swindle them out of money and supplies.

As such, if the Doctor were to go to Ghealach, it meant his bond with Rose would be silenced.

I’ll be there for just a few hours, he told her that morning. I should be done by the time you’re back, but in the event that I’m not, I don’t want you to worry.

Thanks for telling me. Stay safe, Doctor.

He snorted. I’m not the one blasting myself to the gods know where.

He got the impression she was sticking her tongue out at him, and so he rolled his eyes right back.

Be safe, he murmured, passing a kiss and a caress down their bond.

He piloted himself to Ghealach but stayed in the TARDIS until Rose’s presence faded from his mind, indicating she’d gone on her jump.

Wearily, the Doctor rubbed at his eyes and at the dull throb that pulsed behind his temples. Ignoring the ache, he grabbed his overcoat, swung it around his shoulders, and exited the TARDIS.

Ghealach was bustling with activity. All sorts of creatures were buying and selling, bartering and trading. While he usually loved the atmosphere—all of those people, all that life—he couldn’t stomach it today.

So he moved with a purpose, knowing where he could find the parts that he needed to fix the TARDIS. Well, not exactly fix, as nothing was technically broken. But the mechanisms behind the fine-tune precision needed for landing at the coordinates he set must be going a bit faulty. He was landing in an incorrect time or location more often than usual.

If Rose were there, she would’ve teased him about his poor piloting skills.

Pushing that thought aside, the Doctor strode from tent to tent, turning out his pockets to exchange whatever baubles and trinkets and bits of alien tech he happened to have.

It took nearly two hours, but he finally had all of the pieces he had sought out to find, plus a few extra bits he didn’t need but might one day have use for.

It took another half hour or wandering to find the TARDIS again. He hadn’t realized how far he had wandered into the labyrinthine stalls of the market. But he finally beheld his glorious ship. It was odd not to hear her welcoming hum as he approached. Even his bond with his ship was muted on this moon.

He slid his key into the lock and turned it, pushing the door inward. Her central rotor gleamed in welcome and the lights flickered between bright and dull. As soon as he closed the door behind him, leaving the psy-null territory, he felt his ship’s utter joy and delight.

“I missed you too,” he cooed to his ship, affectionately rubbing one of the coral struts as he draped his coat across it.

It was only when he’d skipped up to the center console that he realized his ship wasn’t the sole presence in his mind.

Oh! You’re back earlier than I thought, he said, cringing. Sorry, love. Didn’t think I'd be on that moon for so long.

“Doctor.”

Her voice was faint and breathless, and the Doctor clenched his jaw; it sounded as though she was right beside him. He was getting bombarded with a mixture of emotions, strong ones at that. Stronger than he usually felt from their strained bond.

What’s the matter? Everything all right? Jump go okay?

“It’s you… It’s really, actually you.”

He frowned at the display controls of his ship as he worked on sending her into flight. Rose was coming across clearly. He could read every thread of thought and emotion: disbelief, confusion, love, hurt, happiness, desperation. All of it. Everything that was going on inside that beautiful head of hers was broadcast for him to see.

But if he could sense her so easily, then that meant…

Where are you? he asked, frantically tugging the display screen so close to his face that his nose nearly brushed it. He typed at the keyboard fervently, even though he had no coordinates to input. I’ll find you, Rose. I will find you. Gods, you’re here. Where are you? I’ll find you.

A choked sob sounded from his wife, and he reached into himself, into their bond, to cradle her close. A maelstrom hit him, and he couldn’t seem to soothe her, no matter how much comfort and love he swaddled her in.

I know, love. I know. We’re so close. All these years and you’ve finally done it. You’re brilliant, you are. We’re so close now. Just tell me where you are and I’ll come get you and bring you home. But I need to know where you are.

“Turn around.”

Turn around? What? Where are you, Rose? I need as much information as you can give me so I can find you.

“Turn. Around.”

His mind was still churning even as something—someone—touched his shoulder. Fingers gripped his shoulder hard and tugged. Spinning on his heel, his jaw slackened as he beheld the blonde standing before him. Rose. His wife. His bondmate. His everything.

“Rose?” he croaked, clenching his hands into fists at his side.

She looked nearly the same as the day he’d lost her. The planes of her face had sharpened, the roundness of youth having faded over the years, and her hair was a gentler shade of blonde, seemingly professionally dyed rather than a cheap bit of bleaching product she found in the shops.

His eyes roved across her face hungrily, urgently willing her to be real, as his mind sought her out. He hadn’t realized how muffled their bond had become, separated as they were through universes, but now it was in perfect focus, at full power. It was as though a radio station that had been staticky was now tuned.

And all of the emotions swirling through both of their minds was being broadcast on all frequencies. Shock and disbelief and tentative, delicate hope.

“Oh, Doctor!”

Rose launched herself at him, pulling him from his stupor. He wrapped his arms tightly around her, holding her as close as he could. Her warm, small body contoured to his, pressing against every inch of him until there was no space left between them.

Her hands scrabbled at his back, searching for better purchase to cling to him. He buried his nose into the soft spot where her shoulder met her neck and breathed in deeply, inhaling the smell of her. She smelled like energy and electricity, but beneath that was the familiar scent of Rose. Of home.

“What… How…?”

“It worked,” she said, her voice warbling. “The Cannon… it worked. With a bit of help. Needed a bit of alien tech to help brace the Void open, then close it up behind me. Some friendly aliens helped out with that. Though they said the fabric of that reality was already fragile. Not sure what that was about. Torchwood promised to look into it, and I said we’d look into it from this side of things.”

“Fragile?” he asked, pulling away from her. “How can the fabric of reality become ‘fragile’?”

Rose looked like she was about to open her mouth, perhaps to offer her input, but the Doctor realized he didn’t particularly want to talk about the fabric of reality or the universe or anything that wasn’t Rose.

He shook his head and cradled Rose’s jaw in her palm, brushing his thumb against her lower lip. She sighed, her warm breath ghosting across his hand.

“I’ve missed you,” he rasped, raking his eyes over her face to recommit every detail to memory. She was even more beautiful, more breathtaking, than he remembered. “So much, Rose. There wasn’t a day that went by that I didn’t miss you. And I know we were never truly apart, but…”

Rose rocked up onto her toes, fisted her hands in the lapels of his suit, and tugged him down until their mouths met in a hard kiss. All thoughts left his mind as he lost himself in her. The taste of her, the touch of her, the smell of her, the sound of her, the sight of her. His senses were utterly overwhelmed by her, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. Pleasure sparked through his veins as their lips moved together in a familiar rhythm of pulling and yielding, sliding and gliding.

A full-body shudder rippled down his spine as his mouth parted for her probing tongue. The little whimper she let out weakened his knees and he stumbled back a step until his backside pressed against the central console of the TARDIS.

Rose followed, not breaking the kiss. The Doctor braced himself against the console, more than willing to let Rose cage him in, resting her weight against his. Their bodies moved together, rocking and writhing as their hands explored every inch of each other that they’d been deprived of for three and a half years.

“I missed you,” he murmured between frantic kisses. “I love you.”

I love you, he whispered into her mind. His half of the bond wrapped around her half even tighter than his body wrapped around hers, needing to feel her everywhere, needing to hold her close to convince himself that this was real, that she was real, and that she was here with him.

“I’m here,” she mumbled against his mouth. I’m here. I’m back. I came back. I love you. I love you.

Her hands moved restlessly across his body, alternating between pressing into the small of his back and his hair. Desire rippled through him as their hips and legs tangled together, rubbing and grinding and relishing all of the sensations they’d been deprived of for these many long years.

Sure, they’d had the mental presence of each other during their separation, but no number of mental embraces could replace a real hug, of being ensconced in another’s arms, two bodies inhabiting one space.

A deep groan rumbled up the Doctor’s chest as he devoured Rose’s mouth. The bedroom was too far away for the utter need throbbing through them both. Hastily removing all necessary pieces of clothing, they joined together on the raggedy old jump seat. Their bodies moved as one, touching and kissing and teasing and tasting until their coupling culminated in the pinnacle of pleasure and love.

Afterwards, they sat slumped together, panting for breath and clinging to each other. The Doctor skated his fingertips up and down the smooth expanse of Rose’s spine. She still had her shirt on, and the fabric bunched and fell with every up and down motion of his hand.

“I love you,” he said groggily, pressing a series of kisses to the column of her throat. His mind was blissfully blank and full of Rose. She was everywhere, filling the deep, dark expanse of his mind with her light and warmth.

“You feel so good,” she sighed, nuzzling closer physically and mentally. “I hadn’t realized how faint our bond had become. But now… God.”

“Mmm,” he hummed in agreement. Then he asked the question that had slowly been eating away at him. “How long were you waiting in here? How did you even find the ship? That moon… you wouldn’t have been able to feel her—or me.”

“Maybe a half hour,” Rose said. “Felt like an eternity. But then I reminded myself that I was lucky enough to have found the TARDIS at all. I would’ve been devastated to know I’d landed here but just missed you.”

He would’ve been devastated too. Even more horrifying was the idea that Rose wouldn’t even have been able to reach out for him to tell him where she was, what with that telepathic dampener suppressing their bond.

“But I was just wandering around when I found the TARDIS,” Rose continued. “I nearly walked right by her at first, ‘cos I didn’t think the jump had actually worked. I figured I was on an alien planet in that other universe. But then I walked past her and the door just… clicked open. That’s when I turned and saw her, and I ran right in.

“But then I wasn’t sure which version of you it would be. Everything about the TARDIS looked the same, so I figured I wasn’t too far off. Then I was beginning to think about how I would explain everything if it was a past you. Especially if it was a past you who hadn’t met me yet; how on Earth would I explain to you who I was and why you needed to help me.”

“The marriage bond would’ve been proof enough,” he assured her, tapping at his temple for emphasis. “The bond transcends time, through regenerations, past and present. No matter which version of me walked through those doors, I would have known who you are.”

“Thank God it was you,” she said. “Though for a minute there I thought I went mad and was invisible.”

He offered her a sheepish grin. “Sorry. I didn’t think to look around the TARDIS. I didn’t expect anyone to be in here.”

She smirked at him, then nestled her head into the crook of his neck, letting out a sated sigh Despite the sound of utter contentment, she murmured, “We should get up.”

“Or we could stay here like this forever,” he countered.

“As wonderful as that sounds, my legs are going half numb,” she retorted. “And I feel disgusting. I could use a shower, if you’d care to join me?”

His belly swooped in renewed desire as he nodded fervently. Rose grinned at him, her tongue poking teasingly out of the corner of her mouth. He pinched her bum for her cheek, causing her to shriek with laughter and swat at his hand.

A daft grin settled across his face at the sound. Oh, how he’d missed her.

He couldn’t help but lean up to plant a row of tiny kisses across her jaw, beginning at the sensitive skin beneath her ear and working his way to the corner of her mouth. He felt her cheek lift in a smile as her hand went to the back of his head to keep him where he was. As if he would ever wish to stop kissing her.

“Shower?” he mumbled against her skin, slowly making a path down her neck.

“Mhm,” she hummed distractedly.

He laughed softly and pressed a final kiss to the hollow of her throat. “Come on. Let’s get cleaned up.”

Rose heaved a great sigh but dutifully lifted herself off of his lap to stand on wobbly legs. He followed suit, and they each fixed their jumble of half-off clothing before they moved, hand in hand, down the corridor of their home.

Part Two (the Christmas fluff) coming soon!

[steveandtorixinthemiddle]

Steve, Tori, and X in the Middle

Hello and Welcome to our new blog (If I’m being completely honest, I will probably be the one posting the most) about the next adventure in our lives. I suppose we should introduce ourselves. Let’s start with Steve because he’s the funny one.

Who is Steve? Well he has been a construction worker in various fields for most of his adult life. In 2011 he discovered Wii golf, which got him interested in the actual game. At first it was just playing on his PS3, but eventually we were able to find a decent set of second-hand clubs meant for a lefty. The first time he came home from the golf course (after what he described as the most horrible round in history) he was grinning from ear to ear and happier than I had seen him in a long time. He said he didn’t get remotely close to par, but he’d enjoyed himself immensely. He has gotten better but says he will never be a pro.

Steve is funny. I mean gut-splitting, spit milk out your nose, pee your pants funny. Most of his quiet little comments go unnoticed by those who don’t know him, and they are missing a lot of laughs because of it. He has bought nearly every stuffed animal I own (and I own a lot of them, mostly ladybugs) because he enjoys making other people smile. Okay, mostly me.... Then again, he also worked two jobs to put me through college, so you have to know he’s a good guy.

Funnily enough, people actually think Steve looks a little scary. I don’t usually see it though. I see a big teddy-bear, or a really goofy guy who just wants to have fun. Sometimes I accuse him of being a ten-year-old in the body of a grown man (I guess like BIG) because he loves fart jokes and many of the other things every boy I’ve ever known has liked. This man used to sit down and watch a couple hours of Sponge Bob when our son was small. He watches Red Green, Monty Python, Mythbusters, and the Mel Brooks movies and wishes he could do something like that.

Now me, I suppose. Well, I’m in my late thirties, but sometimes feel three times my age. I haven’t had an easy life (who has?) and my body is feeling it. In 2017 I had a pretty bad fall that resulted in lingering pain for years. Pain so bad that I couldn’t even walk. We had no medical insurance at the time (we were poor, but not poor enough, and living in SC, a state that didn’t take kindly to the ACA), which meant that the injury went untreated, even undiagnosed.

If the physical injury wasn’t enough (it really was if you ask me), the meds that they gave me to treat my PTSD were late a couple times. It was a medication with a warning I was never given. Occasionally someone will withdrawal from certain medications in such a way that it causes damage. This particular withdrawal caused me to have seizures, brain zaps (which can only be described as electricity zipping through your head every time you move it, or even your eyes) and suicidal thoughts so severe my husband had to take several days off work just to sit with me.

All totaled I was trapped mostly in bed or in a wheelchair. I was depressed and anxious. My PTSD was worse than ever. I was feeling hopeless and alone all the time, and I honestly wasn’t sure if there was any reason to keep going. I would have really great days, when I was able to get my wheelchair down the ramp, take the bus to the store, even see my friends. And then there would be days when my hip would lock and I would fall down.

After a fall I could usually expect to be trapped for days in my bed, in unending pain, and mostly alone as my husband had to work, walk the dog, take care of me, do all of the household chores, and literally everything else. My only contribution to our life was using the phone to pay bills and make cigarettes. I felt like I was a burden to my husband. It just got worse and worse and I didn’t see an end.

It’s interesting what life gives you sometimes. One afternoon, when I couldn’t find any inspiration for a fanfiction story I was working on, I started looking on YouTube for anything that would keep me entertained. As I was scrolling through, I saw a video from Trent & Ally (Experienced Van Builder Creates Masterpiece (4k) Van Tour). When the video ended I remember thinking, ‘if I’m going to be stuck in bed all the time, I wish it moved.’ I had no hope of having “van-life” adventures. Not with my health so bad, or with my mental health not much better. Still, it gave me something to dream about.

Then one day my husband sat down in his chair across from the bed, looked me in the eye, and said “we’re going back to Maine.” He’d had enough of seeing me suffer. So, we came back to Maine. It didn’t work out the way we planned. We had to leave our dog Chyko with my cousin (his original owner, who had raised him from a pup) and his family and take the train and a bus to get there, which meant leaving almost everything behind for the second time (we’d done that when we moved to SC after I found my mom).

Almost immediately after getting to Maine we were able to rent a lot with an old trailer on it (1972) not far from Steve’s brother. Right after moving in, I applied for Maine Care, which is Maine’s version of Medicaid. After a while, with the proper medication and a LOT of hard work, I started to get better. First it was just walking from the bedroom to the kitchen. Then I wasn’t staying in bed all day anymore, I would sit at the table. After a while I was walking several times a day from one end of the trailer to the other.

You should have seen my husband’s face when I told him I was going to walk to the store for the first time. I actually thought he might cry. He walked beside me the whole way, telling me over and over how proud he was of me and grinning from ear to ear as he “showed me off” to the people of the town he had grown up in.

It’s funny the way things happen. Covid shut down the country. More and more I wanted out of my house. I took over walking the dogs (who we adopted from Steve’s brother when they moved to a place that wouldn’t allow dogs) twice a day. I started going out with my sister-in-law to stores and walking through them, first in my walker, and more recently on my own two feet with absolutely no help!

Over the past year I have gotten stronger. I will never be where I was before. I will never walk 23 miles with a toddler on my back again (yes, I did that once). I won’t be skydiving, or cliff jumping, or any of the major things I wish I could have tried at least once when I was young enough to survive (he he he). Still, I have a lot of life ahead of me. I’m glad my husband didn’t let me give up.

And now we are preparing for our next adventure. We are going to buy a shuttle bus and turn it into our home on the road. We have several reasons for this. One of those reasons is to pay off all of my outstanding medical bills. I literally owe so much that if I keep paying at my current rate it will take me 417.8 years to finish. So in part, I suppose this is about making sure we don’t leave that debt to our son.

There are other reasons though. One of them is that I would dearly love to meet a few of the couples/families/individuals I began following on YouTube over the past three years. Another reason is because we will never be able to afford a retirement on what my husband makes working in a grocery store (which was his only option after moving here) and we need to go where the work is. We also want to see the country, find out who we are now that “mom and dad” aren’t our biggest titles anymore, and to keep us both active and healthy.

(Okay, and because someone told me I couldn’t do it and I’ve never been able to resist proving people wrong when they say that, so long as I actually WANT to do it).

I’m sort of hoping my husband can put together a show of his own, that people actually enjoy watching on YouTube. Sort of a mix bag kind of show that brings in elements from his favorite shows and movies that really speak to us both. We would love to make videos about how and where to fish, or how to get a fishing license in a state other than your own. I’d even like to do my own short segment, sort of like what Mariah Alice does in her videos. Just talking about what I’m feeling, and why. Figuring out where I go from here.

And... both of us want to help others in our situation (low income) make a go of the life. We watched, horrified, over the last year as more and more people lost everything to wild-fires, floods, even evictions. We want to make it possible for other people to take their homes on the road with them. We want to help families who are really struggling figure out what to do next. And we want to really join in the community (which will be hard with my social anxiety, but not impossible).

Mostly, I think we just want to live while we still have time. I’m done existing. I want to really enjoy what is left of my life. And I want to keep getting better. If I am ever going to check off the last item on my bucket list (WALKING the full length of the Appalachian Trail) then I need to get much stronger than I am now.  

As for who is traveling with us...

The young Marine in the picture is our son, Tim, who has made us incredibly proud. He lives on base and seems to be doing very well. I wish he would call more, but what can I say, he’s an adult now and deserve the right to start his life, not keep his mom worry-free. He won’t be traveling with us, unless he decides to visit when he can build up some leave time.

If you look at the picture of me lying on the couch covered in dogs however, you will meet Madison (a twelve year old pitt mix) who we adopted from Steve’s brother. She is sweet and affectionate, but tends to bark at strangers and friends alike (you can only tell the difference by the beating your knees take from her tail). Beside her is Avalanche, her son, whose name fits him perfectly. His father was mostly lab, which shows. He is super affectionate, and if he doesn’t get my attention he will put his paws on my leg and lick me half to death until he does.

Both our dogs tend to bark when there are strangers around, though we are trying to get them into the habit of only giving one bark, to warn us. Unfortunately it is a bit more difficult to retrain older dogs, so it hasn’t been as easy as it was with retraining Chyko. Thankfully neither of them have huge health issues, but Madison is getting older. We’re hoping that since she isn’t full-blood pitt she will live a little longer than it says online.

Our plan is to stay in Maine during the summers, except perhaps an occasional trip, and mostly travel in the fall, winter, and spring. We do want to avoid the heat (mostly because my husband is afraid I will go supernova and take half a state with me if I get too hot), but we really want to see our son and visit with our other family down south, but then we will probably follow the weather to avoid costs associated with heating or cooling.

Right now we are just at the beginning. We’ve only just made the decision and haven’t even gotten our shuttle bus yet (though we are looking for the right one). We are gathering the supplies we will need to start. We plan to live in the bus during most of the build. Basically we have to do the insulation and redo the floor, walls, and ceiling of the bus before we build out anything, but the whole idea of hooking up the solar terrifies me and makes my husband a bit nervous too, so we will probably wait on everything but a little Jackery until we really know more.

We’ve been watching hundreds of YouTube videos a week for the past two weeks! We have a list of the things we NEED, and the things we want. Right now we are focused on needs first. Things like the ability to cook and wash dishes and have light at night. There is so much more to do, and it will probably be fall before we even get on the road in a barely renovated bus.

We might be crazy. We probably are. A least a little insane. Still, if that crazy makes us happy, gets us out of debt, lets us figure out who we are now, and enables us to see friends and family we dearly love and miss, then I’ll take a bit of that crazy any day of the week.

[allyinthekeyofx]

Fading Light 1/24

Fading Light AllyinthekeyofX Summary: Scully's cancer returns and hope comes at a high price. Notes: I wrote the first 6 chapters to this way back in 2001 and just never finished it....until last year. Yay me! lol PART ONE Prologue My Father once told me that secrets are like old wounds. That no matter how skilfully we hide the scars, they are still there, lingering beneath the surface. Invisible to the eye, but all too obvious if we take the time to really feel them. There are no good secrets. Even the ones we hide in our hearts to protect the people we love will eventually find a way to push themselves up through the layers of deception. I've discovered that we can never hope to protect through lies and after all, isn't a secret just another name for a lie? Semantics Mulder would laugh if he could hear me now. Arguing with myself as I lay, eyes wide open, staring up at the patterns made by the street lamps refracted through the rain that streams down my window. I'm not sure what time it is. I don't seem to sleep much, which is strange, because all I want to do at this moment is close my eyes and sink down into its welcoming arms. To escape from the accusatory voices in my head for a short while would be wonderful, but I just can't seem to relax enough. If I'm honest with myself though, I'm well aware of the reason for my insomnia. It is guilt; pure and simple. I have a secret, and no matter how often I tell myself that I am keeping it from him to protect him, I still feel its presence every minute of every day. I keep it hidden because in doing so I am attempting to shield him from a truth he is ready to neither hear nor accept. Every day I keep the truth from him is another day spent tiptoeing around him, so afraid that he will look into my eyes and see my lies. It was easy in the beginning. Mulder was still shattered over the death of his Mother and I was there for him as he fell apart piece by harrowing piece, supporting him as he has supported me throughout our partnership. I watched over him like the proverbial mother hen as his quest threatened to take him over the edge, ready to drag him back should the need have arisen. For once he didn't need me to catch him and as each day passed he learned more facts behind his sister's disappearance and finally, finally I was rewarded when he came back to me. Not entirely at peace sure - we have seen and experienced too much for that ever to happen - but I saw the stress literally roll off him as, in his own words, he was set free. How can I take that sense of peace away from him now? I have remained silent, promising myself, as I promise myself now, that tomorrow I will tell him. It's ironic in a way, because even I don't believe it anymore. XXXXXXXXX Chapter 0ne Mulder is not in the sweetest of moods. He tries his best to hide it, but it was obvious from the moment he arrived flustered and dishevelled at my door this morning. I'm not sure exactly why we started this whole car pool thing. It certainly wasn't out of any sense of wanting to save the planet, it just kind of happened. I had offered Mulder a ride home one night when he was without his car - I can't remember why he was without it - and he decided it was only right and proper to return the favour. It seems to have set a pattern now that neither of us is willing to break, and it's strange really, but I kind of enjoy it. I like the fact that his face is the first one that greets me every morning. Usually I like it that is. But on days like today, when he is edgy and tense, I wish to hell I could just make him stop the damn car so I can escape out in to the clogged Washington streets and hail a cab. We have hardly spoken during the ride in, just the barest early morning pleasantries. No small talk, no innuendo, no teasing glances. In fact, so far all Mulder has given me is the charming view of his set profile as he keeps his eyes fixed firmly on the road ahead. We are running late for the office, which is never a good thing, especially not today. Today is the second Wednesday in the month. Second Wednesdays mean inter-departmental meetings. Which in turn usually mean bureaucratic scrutiny of our recently submitted expense reports. I hate the meetings almost as much as Mulder does. The difference being, that I don't tend to show it quite as blatantly. But at least we no longer have to suffer the dubious pleasure of AD Kersch as we attempt to justify flying halfway across the country on nothing more substantial than some redneck's sighting of lights in his cow field. Skinner is no less forgiving when we balls things up, but he’s more used to it and therefore more accepting of it. Mulder mutters something under his breath as the car in front slows down to a virtual crawl. I don't bother trying to figure out what it was. The very fact that we are attempting to negotiate rush hour traffic pretty much tells me that whatever it was, it wasn't pleasant and certainly has no need for a response from me. So instead, I just lean my head against the seat rest and close my eyes against the headache that is beginning to pulse at the centre of my forehead. I think that the headaches were the first clear sign that something wasn't right, although for a couple of weeks I was able to pretty much deny their existence. Self-denial is a powerful force, a bit like encasing a broken ankle in a plaster cast. The pain is gone, pushed in to the background, and it's almost impossible to imagine that the broken bone ever happened at all. Until of course you walk on it at the wrong angle and the pain is back to remind you to take more care. That's how it was with me. Only my versions of the plaster cast were non-prescription pain pills. Until they weren't enough, even when foolishly, I was taking well over the required dosage. And then came the day when I couldn't deny it any longer. I remember it vividly. A Saturday spent shopping with my Mother I was in so much pain I could hardly stand. She noticed of course and I remember making vague assurances that I was fine, made my excuses and headed for home. I made it through the door, watched as the room began to spin in that endearing way I had come to recognize from scant years back in the early manifestations of the disease, and woke up three hours later on the floor, still clutching my house keys in my hand. I wish now with all my heart that I had answered the basic need that pounded incessantly in my head. Call Mulder. Instead I had called Dr Zuckerman. Every day since then, I have been trying to find the right words, the right moment, to broach the subject with Mulder, and right along with it, I have found a thousand excuses as to why now isn't the right time. Of course I realize that the right time is never going to happen, and that the longer I keep putting it off, the harder it's going to get. Especially since I have already decided that this time, treatment to prolong the inevitable is not an option for me and whilst I don’t profess to really know or understand exactly what my ‘cure’ entailed the last time around, I am smart enough to realise that its mechanism would never be found written on a treatment protocol. So I have opted to do nothing. To wait out the inevitable. I will continue to work for as long as I can. Until I’m once again incapable. But for how long I can keep up the pretence is anyone’s guess. Not to mention the fact that Mulder is neither stupid nor blind. Eventually he will figure this thing out for himself, and deep down, I can't help wondering if he already suspects something. A paranoid little voice is whispering that I am the reason for his dark mood this morning. Which when I think about it is ridiculous. Oh yeah. Guilt really sucks. Suddenly, I am catapulted from my musings and transported violently back in to the here and now as Mulder curses loudly, swerving the car savagely to the left even before the word is fully formed on his lips. "FUCK!" I'm not entirely sure what he has seen to provoke such a reaction. Mulder rarely, if ever curses aloud. And then I hear it. A sound I have become so attuned to over the years I could recognize it in my sleep. The sound of gunfire. Close by. My senses hone in on the sound, and beside me Mulder is already moving, unbuckling his Seat belt and reaching for the door handle in one fluid movement. Even as I automatically follow his lead I am still searching for answers as to why exactly we have come to a halt in the middle of rush hour traffic. But, like pieces of a jigsaw the answers fall together as I finally see what he sees. My years on the job have taught me to assimilate information pretty quickly. Headache or not, this is no exception. In the space of a heartbeat my consciousness has thrown several words at me. Bank. Alarms. Guns. Robbery Great. Just another fun day in the lives of Fox Mulder and Dana Scully, where even a ride to work has the capacity to become a fucked up nightmare. The shoes I chose to wear today are definitely not made for pounding the pavement. More blisters for me tonight. Mulder of course doesn't have quite the same fashion impairment and even before I have fully cleared the car door he has taken off like a track star, waving his gun around and cutting a swath through the early morning streets like Moses parting the Red Sea. He can move pretty fast for a guy approaching forty, and, whilst I am not exactly a slug myself, an extra six inches of leg length makes all the difference and I find myself trailing further and further behind. As I run, I can hear Mulder shouting something, but the wind is against me and his words are lost in the slipstream making them almost unintelligible. Instead, I concentrate on keeping him in sight. The perp is somewhere ahead and by the pace Mulder is keeping, seems to have no intention of giving up the fight easily. I'm not sure what happens next. A deafening sound that threatens to split my now pounding head in two; Mulders horrified shout. "SCULLY!" A blow that stops me in my tracks and slams me to the ground. It's funny actually, because even as I am aware of falling, I don't feel anything other than a faint buzzing in my head as the pavement rushes up to meet me. No pain, no fear and certainly no understanding as to what has just happened. But through the white noise that surrounds me, I hear another gunshot. And then another. The sound seems to act as a catalyst for my own awareness and the dreamlike quality I had wallowed in for maybe a couple of seconds is replaced by a burning hot pain that seems to radiate through my whole body. Shit. This really hurts. I am reminded of the time when I fell out of the tree house that my brother Bill had spent the summer building with his cronies. I had been mercilessly chased away every time I dared show my face. A seven year old younger sister - a girl - had not been welcome in that den of pre-pubescent masculinity. So, tomboy that I was, I had snuck over there one night and undertaken the precarious climb through the twisted boughs to reach what was forbidden to me; I'd made it up ok -getting down though had been a different undertaking all together and trees tend not to be very forgiving to seven year olds who don't have the sense to realize when they are way out of their depth. I nursed a broken wrist for the rest of the summer, and it had taken years for me to forget the white hot pain I felt as that fragile bone snapped cleanly.. But, with typical childhood resilience I had forgotten. Until now that is. Flesh wounds hurt. Gunshot wounds hurt. Damaged bones hurt like a bitch. I'm unsure as to how much time has elapsed since I first heard Mulder shout out my name although I suspect it is no more than a few seconds at most. Mulder Shit, where is he? Three shots Dana. Count em. Three. Oh Fuck. My eyes snap open, which in itself is futile really because I can't seem to focus on anything other than the pavement which is tilting at an impossible angle before me. I can just make out a collection of coloured blobs in the near distance and although they are fuzzy around the edges I am able to recognize them as being human. From their size and shape I am also able to determine that they are crouched down, hugging the ground as thought their lives depend on it. But my only thought right now is for Mulders well being. Nothing else matters to me and not for the first time I am aware that what I feel for him goes way beyond the accepted boundaries of our friendship, because, had it been anyone other than Mulder, I would just close my eyes and allow myself some respite from the terrible pain that now overwhelms me. But sometimes, even the purest love cannot conquer the frailties of the human body. As I shift my weight fractionally to the right in order to release the arm that is trapped beneath me, I am engulfed in a wave of agony so intense that despite myself I close my eyes and scream. Maybe I screamed out his name. I don't know. But it doesn't matter anyway. Nothing matters except the sudden feeling of Mulders hands on my face, smoothing away the hair that is plastered against my cheeks. And I hear his voice from far away. He is frightened. I have frightened him. Just like he's frightened me in the past. So much fear for two people to bear in a lifetime. "Sssshhhhhhh Scully, It's ok....don't try to move...it's gonna be ok. Ssssshhhhhhh." Slowly the pain diminishes a fraction and I am able to open my eyes again. Maybe a little of the initial shock has subsided, or perhaps a gnawing desperation that needs me to know he's ok, allows me to finally focus enough to look deep in to his eyes. Mulder has beautiful eyes, the most expressive eyes I have ever seen in my life. I could easily lose myself in their depths, which is why I don't allow myself to stare in to them too often. Right now he is fighting tears and not making a very fine job of it. I know how he feels. I've been there too. I've watched him hurting far more times than I care to remember and each and every time I have found myself crying real tears for him when he has been unable to shed his own. Just like he is crying for me now. Despite the pain, I am able to shakily reach up a hand that feels like a dead weight and catch that first tear as it escapes its confines. Watching as it traces a crystalline trail down my finger. I want to speak, to let him know I'm fine, but just that small movement has left me as weak as a day old kitten snatched from its Mother and I just want to close my eyes and sleep. Instead, I fix my gaze on his; attempting to communicate to him through sight what I am unable to do with speech. I'm so sorry I didn't tell you Mulder. And now it's too late. He is going to find out. My secret is no longer going to be mine alone and I need to hang on to consciousness for as long as I can, because, I know that if I close my eyes now, the next time I open them, everything will have changed. Continued chapter 2 #fan fic #cancer #it's a bit heavy on the angst #msr #rst

[cardboardboxprocessor]

The Great American Eclipse 2017

Back in August 2016, when the news of this Great Eclipse first started to be a subject of discussion in the media and on social networking, it was not something that had interested me greatly. I was well aware how easily Mother Nature could ruin these sorts of things and how you had to be in a very specific area to even see totality of an eclipse. Not to mention any drive to that small area would be a ten hour drive at minimum. I was also not confident in my photographic abilities by any means. Sure, I thought I took decent pictures but certainly not enough to bother spending the money to go specifically to photograph it.  Additionally, I lacked understanding of how great this phenomenon could be in person compared to videos of similar events. I had even probed my father about going and his feelings on it were quite lackluster. Needless to say, I had determined that I was going to watch this one from the sidelines in my home state of Maryland.  Then, in November of 2016, something changed. I was 4 months into owning a Nikon D810 and learning it is such an amazing piece of gear.  The sky seemed like - literally - the limit and I began to dabble in astrophotography.  As it turned out, it wasn’t that difficult and I quickly became obsessed with it. I felt good enough about my ability that I bought an astrotracking mount, a Skywatcher Adventure. The forecasts were good so, while I waited for it to arrive with next day shipping, I skimmed through a few online tutorials quickly before bed that night. The next day when it arrived, I went out and took my first try at the constellation Seven Sisters (left side of below image). I was not largely impressed with myself but the fact that some nebulous blue was poking through all the noise inspired me as it meant that a novice like me could image these heavenly bodies without a huge telescope. Just a week later I was able to make the image on the right with just a little more thought and refinement. Cross my ‘t’s and dot my ‘i’s sort of stuff. 

I was content with this image. And honestly deep sky astro is not really a passion of mine; I just did it to say that I could. Satisfied, I set my sights on the moon. I have always taken photos of the moon just to do it. In fact, I had used it so commonly as a target for evaluation of cameras and new lenses that I can track my photos all the way back to 2015 (far left) when I first had my long time point and shoot of preference, the venerable Nikon Coolpix P90, then when I got my Nikon P900 mid 2015 (left middle), and D7200 in later 2015 (middle right), and D810 and tracking (right) sometime in 2016.  

I suddenly found myself interested enough in the moon to want to see it in it’s more rare form, totality. I had bounced it off my dad again sometime in June 2017. Turns out, in the midst of all the growing media attention he had had a change of heart and thought maybe it’d be worth seeing after all. 

We planned for Charleston, South Carolina and made reservations. On August 19th the forecasts deteriorated to thunderstorms. We were keeping an eye on the weather and were able to make a shift before the media began reporting the same observation. We lucked out and were able to get a hotel in Clemson, SC. Forecasts showed partly cloudy with 3% chance of rain there and in the surrounding areas. The big day came and, on Monday morning at 1:00 AM, we started our 10 hour drive down to SC. There was quite a bit of traffic and we arrived around 11:00 am. Upon arrival, I decided to try a more scenic and less crowded location just 7 miles south of Clemson instead (though, in hindsight, we should have stayed at Clemson as it remained clear there throughout the day). I also opted not to bother with landscapes as it was simply too weird an angle for my Sigma 20mm Art to capture. It was up to the task and certainly wide enough but the perspective looked quite strange. 

I began to feel rather stressed out as I began to set up, not just for photographing totality but to see and enjoy the eclipse properly for myself with my own eyes. Often I find that I get so obsessed that I don’t enjoy myself as much as I could have without the camera. For example, my attempt to get the meteor shower just a week prior had ended badly. I had bought tracking equipment and even made a custom DSLR cooler only to have picked the wrong spot for clear weather due to incorrect forecasts. I did not get to enjoy the meteors with my own eyes as I was too busy trying to get to a location that the camera could see them. All this culminated in a lot of self doubt for this attempt at totality. 

By ~11:45 am I was all set up. For this shoot, I wanted to use my tracking mount to follow the sun as the 500/4 AF-i lens weighs nearly 11 pounds and it is difficult to constantly change the ball head position to follow the ever moving sun across the sky.  One thing that is hard to notice is how fast the sun moves. It is almost unnoticeable until you try to frame it with telephoto lens; within several minutes it is out of the lens view again. This tracker has a motor that follows it across the sky as it moves and takes the lens with it. Having never set it up in daylight, it took some time to acquire the sun but once I did, it tracked very well. My custom hand controller made keeping alignment prim and proper quite flawless. Focusing with a Modified Hartmann mask was very easy and quick and worth the extra hours to make the night before. 

At 1:09 pm, the first glimpses of the moon beginning to transit the sun appeared in my view finder. I started taking exposures at 1/4000 7 1/8000 with bracketing 9 stops up. It was exposing well and I was quite overjoyed that I was actually here in South Carolina imaging the moon blocking out the sun! Things were going quite well at this point. However, by 1:40 pm this had all changed: clouds began to roll in and almost continuously block our line of sight with only intermittent windows, seconds at a time, through which to see the unfolding eclipse. The clouds got worse and worse, growing more voluminous and stationary. I had never seen two layers of clouds form and move in perpendicular directions over such flat terrain. In Maryland, clouds only move west to east. These moved east to west and north to south. I was flabbergasted and saddened by this as the outlook was becoming so very bleak.  At 1:59 am, just 39 minutes before the main event, I expressed my misery over this sudden clouding with a contact from Reddit, John Kraus, whose launch photography is something I quite admire. He, in turn, reported that he was having better luck and was just several miles away at Williamston, SC. He was even nice enough to send me a photo and stay in contact with me even while busy with his own imaging. 

The time was 2:00 pm and packing up in 10 minutes, driving 20, and setting back up seemed impossible. I was stressed and indecisive about relocating. Typically as soon as you move or put your camera away fate messes with you and changes things back to optimal conditions. I figured the clouds would clear just to be cruel.  However, fate reached out and talked to me in that moment of angst: a huge rain drop landed on my tripod leg right before my eyes. It was then I knew I had no choice. It was going to rain!  With lightning speed I packed up my gear, practically ripping it into pieces and messily tossing it into bags and bins. Running around with my huge 500/4 Nikkon AF-i 11 lb monster around my neck, I began hauling things back to the car. Other parties were doing the same, backing up and asking where we were headed. One even joked alongside me, talking as I hauled my bin of gear to the car. As soon as we jumped in the car it began to down pour like a monsoon. So much for that 3% chance of rain, you pesky weather forecasters! The race was on.  We flew down back roads and raced ever closer to the huge hole in the sky that was now visible just a few miles ahead of us down what I think was 85. At 2:28 pm the GPS said we still had 12 minutes to our destination with totality only 10 minutes away!  Checking my Google Maps app, it was clear we would not make it to Williamston in time. My father saw an exit ahead, the last before a several mile stretch to Williamston, when suddenly the sky cleared. Fearing it’d be the only chance I had, I stuck my whole camera and lens out the window and began firing away shots (to my amazement, I captured several images this way). I told him to take the ramp since we were simply out of time.  We were not alone in this revelation.

Suddenly, every car began to turn towards the ramp almost simultaneously as if the sudden sunlight had infected every mind it touched with some sort of brain washing or connected us all in some sort of Borg hive mind. All had come to the same decision. “This is the only exit close enough and the sky is now clear.. there's 3 minutes left till the main event... this is it! Our only chance.” In amazing, unplanned choreography 2 lanes of traffic and those already driving on the shoulder suddenly all converged on a singular point on the exit ramp. It was something you’d imagine Tesla hopes its autopilot could one day do when all cars are autonomous. We were unable to obtain a spot on the exit ramp. Turning up into the main drag, a row of gas stations and restaurants lined this small reststop-like exit. The small traffic jam was growing larger by the second as more and more vehicles flooded into this last bastion of clear sky for those that were rained out in other directions. 

The saturation and hues began to drain as the sunlight drew white with totality’s impending arrival.  It was as if someone had begun to drag the Lightroom vibrancy slider to the left into the far negatives. Meanwhile, everyone stared up paying no mind to the surrounding world. It was all so surreal, strange, and just out of this world. The only thing I have ever seen like it has been Yom HaShoah and when the Sirens sound to honor the fallen. 

I jumped ship while attempting to park in a gas station parking lot with just my camera my old backup gitzo metal tripod. There was no time for anything else or to put my ballhead back on my Carbon Fiber Gitzo. I began to set up near some other folks on their nice wide paved pad in the middle of the grass. In hindsight, I can only imagine I was standing atop their septic tank, why else would there be a large concrete box stick up out of a grassy field beside a building? 

As I set up one of the workers came out and began to yell at me claiming that this area and parking was for customers only. I told her that I did not park here and that I walked. She went on complaining until I promised I’d come buy something afterwards. I found it quite strange she was so concerned with me becoming a customer and yet being so nasty to me. I suppose she targeted me specifically as I had the biggest lens of all. It was just so odd that she seemed quite blind to the fact that there was a huge traffic jam on the road, in the parking lot, and people just standing outside their cars on the main road. How could anyone be so concerned with someone buying a candy bar while something so rare and magical was happening around them? I simply told her I promise I'll be in to get a candy bar, and informed her that no right-minded person is going to be crazy enough to pump gas while this amazing display is going on, and that if she did not like it she could call the cops but there'd be no way for them to get here as the roads were a frozen stream of cars whose owners abandoned them to view this event. I was called a smartass, not surprisingly. However, I was amazed that she turned her back on the beginning of totality and went back inside, oblivious and uncaring of the events just outside the door 10 feet from her cash register.  

I ended up setting up with only 50 seconds to go, and I began firing away letting my intervalometer and automatic bracketing do the work. I had switched my AF-i lenses clutch to Auto focus so it was still focused from the previous site. Finally able to look around and enjoy the event, to the west I could see the shadow racing towards us at ~1500+ mph. All those clouds I had hated moments ago for raining on us suddenly made it clear how quickly the eclipse moves. Coast to coast in 94 minutes. The loathed clouds turned ever darker the closer they were. On the far horizon the clouds lit up like sunset. All around everyone was bathed in white glowing light that was ever dimming as the great shadow descended upon us. Totality arrived abruptly. It is like the opposite of the scene from Forrest Gump when the sun suddenly comes out after the rain. Expected, yet unexpectedly. Totality was indescribable. Looking up at the sun and seeing the many solar prominences poking out around the edge of the completely black moon; how quickly it all shifted from very bright white to black and dark; the stars and planets shining brightly in the sky while the clouds on the horizon shown like daytime; the qualia of this experience are impossible to explain. You’ll never know till you see it yourself. It went on so shortly that before you knew it you could see the shadow leaving and the light returning from west to east. I kept firing my camera and waited until the last minute to put my filter back on. I was happy to see I got a nice diamond ring shot and several other great shots. In hindsight, I wish I had changed my exposure times a little more but auto bracketing 9 stops worked well enough for this noob’s first time. And to be honest in a lot of ways I am glad I did not. I was able to enjoy it, watch it myself. The timer did the work while I beheld the amazement.  I came back to reality and I found myself suddenly quite sad. My dad ended up in the next parking lot down, an abandoned gas station 100 yards or so away. I wish I had known the exact time. I wish I knew I had time to run down and be near him. I felt bad for the greed to see it in my camera over seeing it with him. I called him and discussed it with him while we were both still in awe. I talked to a few people nearby, gave out my website. I wish I had business cards! Maybe it is time for those now. Then I headed down to start shooting near him till it faded out totally and the moon was invisible again at ~4:10 pm.  I took this picture before packing up, everyone else gone, this small rest stop exit empty again. The traffic jams cleared and the horde of zombie-like sky starers all returned to their tasks. Just me and another photographer remained till the very end. In the back left you can see where I shot totality, and where I ended up. To the far left are the cars of other photographers that watched it till the very end. 

Here are some images I put together quickly before the hype dies down too much.