#Rectangular Pot Magnets

[mpcomagnetics]

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[hsmagnet]

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[fernepurdy]

Culinary Confidence with a Cleaver Knife: Master the Basics

When it comes to mastering the art of cooking, confidence in the kitchen is your secret ingredient. And one tool that can boost your culinary confidence to new heights is the versatile cleaver knife. In this guide, we're going to explore the basics of using a cleaver knife, from its history and anatomy to essential techniques, all designed to help you become a master in the kitchen.

The Cleaver Knife's Rich History

Before we dive into the kitchen, let's take a step back in time to appreciate the history of the cleaver knife. This culinary workhorse has a rich and storied past, with its origins tracing back to ancient China. Originally, cleaver knives were created to serve as multi-purpose tools, capable of handling a wide range of kitchen tasks. Today, they've evolved into a must-have for cooks worldwide.

Understanding the Anatomy of a Cleaver Knife

To become a master of the cleaver knife, you first need to understand its components:

The Blade: The cleaver's blade is its heart and soul. It's typically broad and rectangular, making it ideal for chopping, dicing, and smashing. Cleaver knife blades can be crafted from stainless steel or carbon steel, each with its unique advantages.

The Handle: The handle provides you with the grip and control you need while working your culinary magic. Cleaver knife handles are commonly made from materials like wood, plastic, or stainless steel, ensuring a comfortable hold.

Weight Matters: Cleaver knives come in various weights, from heavy to light. The knife's weight affects its functionality. Heavier cleavers excel at cutting through bones and tough materials, while lighter ones are better suited for precision work.

Types of Cleaver Knives

Cleaver knives come in several specialized types, each tailored to specific kitchen tasks:

Chinese Cleaver: This is the classic cleaver knife and is incredibly versatile, capable of handling various tasks in the kitchen. It's a staple in Chinese cuisine.

Meat Cleaver: For those who love working with meat, the meat cleaver is your best friend. It's designed for cutting through meat and bones with ease.

Vegetable Cleaver: With a thinner blade compared to the meat cleaver, the vegetable cleaver is perfect for slicing and dicing vegetables with precision.

Bone Cleaver: When you need to tackle tough tasks, the bone cleaver is your go-to tool. It's built for chopping through bones and other dense materials.

Mastering Cleaver Knife Basics

Now, let's explore the essential techniques to master the basics of using a cleaver knife:

The Rock Chop: Rest the blade on the cutting board and use a rocking motion to create smooth, controlled chops. This technique is perfect for chopping vegetables, herbs, and more.

The Guiding Claw: When using a cleaver knife, always keep your non-dominant hand in a "claw" shape to guide the food you're chopping. This helps ensure both safety and precision.

The Precision Slice: For precise cuts, use the front part of the blade and let the knife's weight do the work. This technique is ideal for fine slicing.

The Scoop: The flat side of the cleaver's blade is excellent for scooping up ingredients and transferring them to your pan or pot, making your cooking process more efficient.

Caring for Your Cleaver Knife

To maintain your culinary confidence with a cleaver knife, proper care is essential:

Hand Washing: Always wash your cleaver knife by hand with mild soap and warm water. Avoid the dishwasher, as it can damage the blade and handle.

Drying and Storage: After washing, ensure your knife is thoroughly dried, especially the blade to prevent rust. Store it safely in a knife block or on a magnetic strip to keep the blade sharp and your fingers safe.

Regular Sharpening: To maintain a sharp edge, invest in a quality knife sharpener or visit a professional for sharpening as needed.

Conclusion: Unleash Your Culinary Confidence

In the world of cooking, confidence is the secret sauce that elevates your dishes from good to extraordinary. Mastering the basics of the cleaver knife is a step toward culinary self-assurance. With the right techniques and care, you can make the most of this versatile kitchen tool. So, grab your cleaver, sharpen it up, and embark on your culinary journey with newfound confidence. Your kitchen adventures await!

[wordnerdworld]

NaClYoHo Wrap-ups

Another project that was on my NaClYoHo list that I never quite got to was reorganizing my kitchen cabinets, specifically my spice/baking/tea cabinet. I recently had a frustrating cooking experience (being out of spices I thought I had), so I decided to go ahead and order some organizers to help me get things under control and dove in today.

Here are the (mostly)Before pictures:

Spice/tea/baking Cabinet:

Uhhh, glassware cabinet?

Counter where I'd started to move stuff out of those two cabinets + other items that had collected:

I bought two organizers to help get things put away in a manner that would hopefully leave them easily accessible/viewable so I don't keep accidentally buying multiple of the same spice (I have multiple things of Cream of Tartar, Cardamom, Garam Masala, and Mustard Seed currently, Please send recipes.). I also specifically needed something for my hot sauce collection (a friend got me an advent calendar).

For the spice cabinet, I got a 3-step, expandable acrylic organizer. At first, I thought it was going to be waaaay too big. but it actually works out reallywell.

It's on the second shelf from the bottom. On the left side are misc. short spices in the front and all my "whole seed" spices in the back. On the right are duplicate/replacement spices in the back and misc. tall spices in the front.

I tossed some things that had expired about 2 years ago, and I'm hoping the brown sugar will soften up some and become more scoopable.

I also bought a set of really cool magnetic spice racks! For storing my hot sauces.

They stick to the side of my fridge, so I had zero installation difficulty. And I tried to roughly group them by type so it'll be easier to find whatever I'm in the mood to try. Not sure what I'll use this for once I use up those sauces. But clearly that's not gonna happen for a while. (This is not, by any means, all the hot sauce I own. I've got....7 or so full-size bottles of stuff elsewhere. Really need to start using these up!)

There were 4 racks in the set, and I didn't have room to stick the 4th one to the fridge b/c of how the cabinets open. So I used it to store my daily seasonings instead:

On the left is a Whiskey Habanero hot sauce I've been enjoying. On the right is a packet of hot toddy mix I kinda-sort forgot I had. Gonna try to use it up this winter! Tucked just behind it is a little journal where I can keep notes about the different hot sauces I try.

The Glassware cabinet didn't get much reorganization. I mostly just found some vases and other things to donate that I don't use.

That rectangular jar on the left in the second shelf holds dried chili peppers, btw. Can you tell I like spicy food?

I've also clearly reached a certain phase of adulthood that has a lot in common with early childhood and pet-hood. Being stupidly happy about cardboard boxes!

I was almost happier about the fact that my new things came in a cardboard box that is perfect for collecting my donation items than I was about the organizers themselves, lol.

I'm hoping that reorganizing these cabinets and making my various sauces/spices more accessible will encourage me to cook more often. I really enjoy it, but it's one of those things my depression has really impacted.

I currently have a roast in the crock pot (good vehicle for hot sauce) and plan to saute some spinach and zucchini to go with it (good time to use a spice blend). We'll see how that goes.

[almanoelscraft]

Lettering in Clay: Molding Messages That Last

Clay might just be the most patient of all crafting materials. It waits for you to mold, shape, carve, and occasionally smush it beyond recognition. Now, pair that with the expressive beauty of typography, and you’ve got a match that’ll make your inner design nerd swoon.

We're not just talking about putting your name on a pot. We're talking hand-pressed alphabets, quote plaques, custom stamps, fridge magnets, and clay jewelry that spells things out in the coolest way possible.

🧠 Fun Fact of the Day:

The oldest known writing system, cuneiform, was made by pressing wedge-shaped tools into clay tablets over 5,000 years ago. That’s right—your DIY letter tile project is basically art history in action.

🛠️ Tools and Supplies You’ll Need

Air-dry clay or polymer clay

Clay roller or a clean rolling pin

Alphabet stamps or letter cookie cutters

Craft knife or clay sculpting tools

Acrylic paints or paint pens

Gloss or matte sealer (optional)

Sandpaper (for smoothing edges)

Toothpicks, skewers, or old pens (for fine details or poking holes)

Wax paper or silicone mat for working surface

✨ Project 1: Clay Quote Plaque

Make a mini inspirational sign that looks great on desks, shelves, or as a thoughtful handmade gift.

Steps:

Roll out a slab of clay to about 1/4 inch thick.

Cut out a rectangle or shape of your choice.

Use alphabet stamps to impress a word or phrase (like “CREATE”, “BREATHE”, or “NOPE”).

Smooth the edges and add a hole at the top for hanging if desired.

Let it dry, then paint the letters in a contrasting color.

Seal for durability.

Creative spin: Try using a script font for a handwritten look or mixing upper and lower case letters for playful contrast.

🧲 Project 2: DIY Word Magnets

Perfect for leaving sassy notes on the fridge or inspiring mantras near your coffee machine.

Steps:

Roll out your clay and cut small rectangular tiles.

Stamp individual letters onto each tile.

Bake (if using polymer clay) or let air-dry.

Paint or seal if desired.

Attach self-adhesive magnets to the back.

Now go ahead and spell “YOLO” or “FEED ME TACOS” on your fridge like the classy crafter you are.

💍 Project 3: Personalized Name Pendants

Yes, you can wear your craft on your sleeve—literally.

Steps:

Roll a small ball of clay and flatten it into an oval or circular disc.

Use mini stamps or freehand carving to inscribe a name or word.

Add a hole for stringing.

Bake or air-dry, then paint and glaze.

String it onto a chain or cord for instant DIY jewelry magic.

Typography tip: Use monospaced or sans serif fonts for clean lines and legibility.

🖌 Typography Techniques in Clay

Impressed Type: Use stamps or blunt objects (e.g., the edge of a Lego brick!) to press letters into soft clay.

Raised Type: Roll small clay snakes and shape them into letters to stick onto the base surface.

Cut-Out Letters: Roll flat sheets and cut out letters using cookie cutters or by hand with a craft knife.

Handwritten Texture: Etch directly into clay with a skewer or stylus to mimic handwriting.

BONUS: Make Your Own Clay Alphabet Stamp Set

Can’t find the perfect font? DIY it!

Flatten small cubes of clay and carve one letter into each block.

Bake or dry completely.

Use these to stamp your own custom messages anytime.

Now you’re basically a type designer and a sculptor. Michelangelo, eat your heart out.

https://letterhanna.com/lettering-in-clay-molding-messages-that-last/

[defaulttwig]

Spider Throwdown

Miguel O’Hara x gn!reader

Summary: Spider-Man 2099 entered a universe where the heroes punch a little harder and rarely ask questions. They’re a bit aggressive, but get their jobs done. As a variant Spider-person, he thinks you’ll make a fine addition to the team, but he first has to get you to hear him out.

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: hopefully a cool fight scene with an appropriate amount of violence, no romance sadly

A/N: Practicing action sequences. I'm so rusty at writing omg, I'll probably edit this later. (He makes me go rah rah rah. I have so many ideas similar to this where it's just you and Miguel beating each other up. Idk. That train scene did smthg to me, I want Miguel to just- yeah)

No movement.

You pressed yourself against the wall, high out of the average person’s line of sight and tucked away into the dark corners of the building. New York’s City Bank was all too familiar to you. Far too many criminals ranging from low-lives to the most heinous have tried to either steal from the bank or run it to the ground. Tonight was no different. You got a lead that another hit would happen before the clock struck twelve. Ready to make the first strike, you came early. Now, you just had to wait.

The bank itself was bland, minimalist with high ceilings that reached three stories. At the front were the large double doors that led to the streets. The back doors led to the private offices. In the middle of the ceiling, a large, rectangular skylight cast a glow to the center of the room, faintly highlighting the benches and potted plants. From your position, you had eyes on all access points to the vault. Nothing would get past you.

Under the skylight, the leaves of potted ferns swayed. You scanned for any sign of an open window or movement. None. The ferns tilted, gravitating toward one point like they were pulled by a magnet.

Particles ignited in the middle of the room, bright and colorful in contrast to the somber glow of the skylight. They grew in size, expanding into geometric shapes. Each shape flashed in a hum your ears couldn’t quite catch. All at once, they disappeared. Gone, vanished, as if you imagined the whole thing, and the plants returned to their original position.

Left behind stood a man in a tight-fitting blue suit with his back turned to you. He had to have come out the other end of the thing. A portal, then. You scrutinized his muscular build, not yet deciding he was a threat. Muscle didn’t mean everything. He sure dressed like a villain, though. Red coated the upper half of his suit and his forearms sported two spike-like appendages.

A hologram appeared beside his head. He turned to address the small figure, too small for you to decipher from your spot. The emptiness of the room gave him the confidence to speak to the hologram. Despite being the only one talking, you failed to catch every word, hearing only bits and pieces.

“Find Spider-…Careful…Put up a fight.”

So, he came for you. What little you could understand helped paint a picture. This wasn’t just a hit, it was a trap to lure you into an ambush. He didn’t match the description from your informant, but that didn’t matter. It wouldn’t be the first time your sources tried to pull a fast one on you.

“Scan the room.”

A device pulled away from him. It hovered, swiveled and moved around, shining a golden light on everything in sight, from down on the floor to up the walls. Occasionally, it beeped to signify nothing of importance. You fixed yourself onto the balls of your feet. When it turned in your direction and the yellow fixed itself onto you, you kicked off the wall.

An alert sounded and the man pivoted. You shot a ball of web onto the floating device, soaring past as it crashed to the ground, and aimed your web shooters at him. Two ropes shot out. He jumped to the side, dodging the webs. You tapped your web shooters and cut the ropes of web, landing on your feet. Up close, you got a better look at the man.

A spider symbol rested in the middle of his chest.

“That wasn’t cheap, you know?”

You looked into the sharply angled lenses of his mask. “This will be easier if you don’t call in for back-up.”

He straightened. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.” You balled your hands into fists, ready to pounce. Any bite to his voice turned to hesitation. “Wait.”

“Can’t go back, now,” you grunted out, throwing your fist in his direction.

He caught your fist and held you still, even as you tried to pull away. “I have something to say.”

You used the grip he had on you to your advantage. Kicking off the ground, you raised your leg over yourself and hooked it around his neck. In one spin, you sent him to the ground and released his hold on your fist. Given an opening, you placed your hands on the floor and threw your leg out for another kick.

He raised his forearms, angling the suit’s appendages away from your body, and blocked the kick. “I’m not here to hurt you.”

You twisted your body and flipped upright, pushing yourself several feet away. “I find that hard to believe.”

He got to his feet and lowered his hands. “You’re going to have to trust me. I know that’s hard for you, but think with your brain for once and not your fists.”

You narrowed your eyes, the lenses on your mask copying the action. Your stance relaxed. He wasn’t swinging punches right out the gate like the others you’ve fought in the past. “You plan to make me listen to you through insults?”

“No. Let me explain-”

“Are you going to talk the entire time or fight me?” You crossed your arms, waiting for his next move. “My patience is wearing thin.”

“If you’d just let me speak.” He paused. You remained quiet, glaring at him with scrutiny. “My name is Miguel O’hara. I’m not from here. I’m from a different earth.”

You huffed through your nose. “Is that all you have? Be serious.”

He touched his temple. “It’s you who-” He groaned. “I am from a different universe and the multiverse is in danger. I’ve formed a group of people like us-”

“Us?” You upturned your nose. “What do they call you?”

He inhaled. “Spider-Man-”

“Ha,” you barked out a laugh. “I’ve heard enough.” You turned on your heel and walked in the direction of the back doors. “If you’re not here to fight, then leave. I’m expecting someone.”

“I’m trying to talk to you.” He groaned deeply. You could feel his agitation raise in waves. Goosebumps lined your arms and you slowed your steps. “Turn around and listen,” he grunted deeply. At the same time your spidey senses went on high alert, he cursed under his breath. “Shit.”

You leapt to the side, catching only a glimpse of a potted fern flying past you. With quick reflexes, you shot a web at it. You dug your foot into the ground, pivoting with the momentum of the pot as you swung it. Gritting your teeth, you let go and sent it flying back at him.

Miguel widened his stance. You used the pot as a cover, darting for the walls. He punched through the pot, causing a pile of dirt and ceramic to fall at his feet. He whipped his head to and fro, finding you climbing up where rows of windows could be an escape.

You looked past your feet at a digging sound. He quickly clawed his way up to you. While he drew nearer, close enough to swipe at you if he wanted, you leaned back and shot two webs at a higher spot on the wall. Pulling back, you stretched the webs as far as they could go before you relaxed your body.

Slingshotting higher up, you opted to run on all fours. Miguel followed dutifully. Together, you both climbed past the second story, nearing the ceiling. You stooped just below the third story window, waiting for the right moment.

“Stop running!”

You took one glance at him closing in on you once again. Digging your fingers into the wall, you shifted on your feet before springing backwards in an arch. Miguel’s head followed the twist of your body as your legs swung out below you. He flipped around and curled his fingers into the wall, looking all but ready to leap at you.

Your wrists extended past you, the lenses of your mask locked onto him. Two rope webs landed on either side of him and you wrapped the rope around your wrists. Your body propelled toward him with one knee curled up, slamming into his stomach and causing his body to dent the wall. Bits of plaster fell from behind him. Miguel grabbed your knee, shuffling his feet on the wall in an attempt to buck you off. He managed to push himself off the wall. You loosened your grip on the webs, letting them fall away before shooting two more and slamming him back into the wall. Another dent just below the other.

Your knee in his stomach and the sizable dent kept him rooted. You laid one hand on the wall by his head to steady yourself and reeled your other arm back. Miguel’s hands flew to your back, fruitlessly pulling at your suit. There was no way to get you off of him.

He snarled. “Stop!”

When your fist flew straight for his masked face, alarm bells went off in your head. Your whole body tensed, alerting you of impending danger. Miguel’s hands laid flat on your back, fingers digging into you and no longer trying to pry you off. Sharp pain sprang forth from his fingers. Claws cut through your suit and into your skin. You cried out, punch falling short of anything and fist hanging in the air.

Your grip on the wall grew slack. Miguel’s body peeled off the wall, falling over you. His masked face drew near yours before his wrist extended out. A web shot forth and pulled him toward the opposite wall. You regained your senses and shot out your webs at the ceiling. You swung around to the wall farthest from him.

Your back stung. You felt the small spurts of blood flowing from it, soaking the fabric of your suit. It was warm. Gross.

Miguel yelled out, “Can’t you see that I’m on your side?”

The blood trickling out of your back begged to differ. Your spidey sense simmered with the hint of a threat. You had no reason to believe him. “Forgive me for not seeing the obvious.”

“I came here to talk to you.”

He was the threat. “I’m done talking.”

“You’re making this harder than it needs to be.” He watched you shoot a web at the ceiling before you kicked off the wall.

Your body fell towards the floor, only to swing back up. You released the web and shot one straight at his chest. In one, strong tug, you pulled him off the wall and swung him around towards the floor. He swiped his claws through the rope and aimed his wrist at you.

A rope of web shot out past you, sticking to the wall. You had no time to dodge his body launching straight at you before he grabbed you by the neck, taking you with him. Your back slammed against the wall, taking your breath from you.

With his one wrist wrapped around the rope to keep you both suspended, he shifted his hold on your neck, exposing your jugular. You fixed your feet to the wall and threw your fist up from under, hitting him square in the jaw. He drew back and you took the opportunity to yank the rope, ripping it. Before gravity could do its thing, you placed your hands on his chest and kicked off the wall.

Miguel thrashed and grabbed at your wrists, just as he crashed to the floor. He grunted, grip loosening. You wrenched yourself from his grasp and slammed his wrists to the floor. With quick taps to your web shooters, his hands were bound to the sleek surface. His head jerked and he grunted.

You huffed. “Don’t try anything. You’re finished.”

The two of you were back under the skylight. From his wrist, a watch glinted, stealing your attention. It was bulky, complicated tech you didn’t recognize. If he’s been using this to contact the others and summon devices and portals, then it was just as dangerous as he was. You reached for it, ignoring his excuses and the way he hardly tried to fight you off anymore.

The way he spat out your name gave you pause. Your full name, your life story, the day you got bit by the spider. The night your uncle died. You whipped your head to lock eyes. He listed off things about you that nobody should have known about.

Your heart dropped to your stomach and, despite your rationality, you peeled off your mask to fully glare at him. Your eyes bounced around his mask, scrutinizing him in a panic. “How do you know who I am?”

The hesitation lasted long enough for him to break through his bonds. He pounced, flipping you over until your back smacked onto the ground. The cuts in your back stung, chilled by the cold floor. Your thoughts raced a mile a minute. You had absolutely no connection to this man. In your panic, his mask receded and revealed a handsome, unfamiliar face. A stranger knew too much about you.

He opened his mouth, revealing sharp canines. Fangs like a vampire. His eyes glowed red, the contours of his face shadowed by the sharp angles. Your hand pathetically pushed at his face, smushing his cheek. He took a fistful of the hair on your scalp, tilting your head to the side. In a blink, you shouted at the pain of his teeth sinking into your neck.

You fisted at his hair, tugging hard to pry him off of you. It was fruitless. A sickly warm feeling invaded your senses, sapping your energy by the millisecond. Your breaths quicked, all while your body went rigid, shutting down. Your hand fell away from his hair, landing on the floor.

“What-what did you do?” You struggled to use your mouth, only able to utter that one phrase before you lost your ability to speak.

He pulled away to look you in the eyes. The scowl on his face dropped to one of relief and his shoulders slumped. He let out a deep sigh, rolling his shoulders back. “You’re going to stay still and listen to what I have to say.” He glanced around the setting. Unceremoniously, he took you by your arms and hoisted you over his shoulder. “Here’s a little too open.”

Your spidey sense kicked into full gear. Goosebumps dotted your arms, hanging limply by your head.

Danger.

Danger.

Get away.

Danger.

Move.

The wall behind Miguel exploded, sending you both flying. Your body slid across the floor and your eyes flicked over to the hole in the wall. The last thing you saw was a brick flying at your head and Shocker climbing over the debris into the bank.

+:+:+:+:+

Pain. Your head pounded and you winced. It felt like someone was squeezing your brain. Your head rolled and you groaned, not quite yet ready to open your eyes.

“Good. You’re awake.” You half-listened to the cold voice off in the distance. “It wasn’t my intention to get interrupted, or for you to get knocked out.”

You blinked several times, picking your head up. Everything was fuzzy, a blur. As you slowly came to, your eyes locked onto a family photo from some summer day nestled by a desk lamp. You looked around more, finding yourself in an office. You recognized this place. You were still in the bank, just in the back of it.

You tried to reach for your head to soothe the source of your headache. No doubt a large, ugly bump formed from Shocker’s grand entrance. Your wrists wouldn’t move. You looked down, finding red webs restraining your arms to the armrests of the chair you sat on. More red webbing wrapped around your torso. Your eyes jerked open, now fully awake.

“Where’s Shocker?”

“I took care of it.” From the shadows on the other side of the office, Miguel emerged. He approached with his mask receded, and only then did you realize yours was still off. A quick scan and you found the crumpled fabric on your lap. “He won’t be an issue, for now.”

“Gives us plenty of time to talk,” you said. Your spidey sense didn’t go off, so that was good. Your limbs still felt sluggish and your back pulsed from the cuts. You didn’t exactly have the upper hand here, if this was a fight.

He crossed his arms. “My name is Miguel O’hara. I come from another universe.”

“So, why are you here?”

“I’ve created a network of Spider-people, people like us, that work together to prevent anomalies from disrupting the multiverse.” He walked up to the desk, standing tall over you. “I came here to invite you to join us.”

You frowned. A part of you believed him. It wasn’t like you were a stranger to the multiverse theory, but you held off on any excitement. “Cut me out of these webs and I might consider.”

He huffed. “Cute, but I’m not taking any chances.”

“Afraid I’ll kick your ass again?”

“I was holding back.”

You rolled your eyes. “Sure, man.”

“If I wanted to-” His voice raised slightly before he curled his hand into a fist and took a deep breath. He relaxed his hand. “You’re not making this easy.”

“It’s hard to see your argument when I’m the one tied up.”

“I had to. You weren’t being-” He waved his hand. “Stay on topic. Will you join?”

You gave him a once over. Cocking your head back, you huffed through your nose. “So, there’s people like me? Same powers? Same story?”

“Similar powers. Similar stories.”

You leaned toward believing him, not just because he was easy on the eyes. He didn’t take the chance to kill you while you were out cold. That sort of gave you the impression he was something of a hero. Not quite. Vigilante, maybe.

“What’s your story?”

“Off topic.”

“You already know mine, apparently.” Your expression soured. “Was that important to your little club?”

He bit back a response. Turning his head, he set his hands on his hips. “Join or don’t join. I don’t care.”

“So, you traveled across the multiverse to just get your ass kicked?”

“I didn’t-”

“Ha.” You cracked a smile. Watching him bristle was amusing. “You know, Michael-”

“Miguel-”

Your smile widened. Just this once, you’d entertain a guy like him. “You’re a funny guy. I’ll join, but on one condition.”

His brows raised expectantly. “That is…”

“I want a rematch.”

He set his hands on his hips. “That’s all you want?”

“Just to prove I can kick your ass.”

His expression blanched. “That won’t happen, but I can agree to those terms.”

“Alright, then I accept your invitation.”

Your eyes followed his movement around the desk. Miguel brought his hand up where claws emerged from his fingertips. You watched, mildly intrigued, as he cut the webbing around you. He stepped away, giving you room to stand, as he headed toward the office door and touched the thick watch on his wrist.

You picked up your mask and maneuvered around the desk, standing an arm’s length away. “That’s what lets you jump dimensions,” you guessed. “Do I get one?”

A loud shout called out to you from the other side of the wall. “Spider! I know you’re still here!”

Miguel looked over his shoulder as a portal appeared in front of him. “I’ll let you take care of that.” He turned to step through it, pausing long enough to toss something back to you. You caught it and looked down to find a watch like his own. “Come to Headquarters when you’re finished. I’ll explain everything there.”

He walked into the portal, disappearing as it closed behind him. It was almost like he was never here. But the sting in your back said otherwise.

You attached the watch to your wrist, turning your wrist this way and that to admire it. Not bad. A bit ugly, but you could get used to it, if this was really happening. You read off the screen.

Earth-928.

“Come out and face me!”

You pushed the excitement to the back of your mind. More people like you, a multiverse, other worlds to explore, and a rematch with that guy. You’d deal with that afterwards.

You slid the mask over your head and rolled your shoulders. Confidently striding to the door, you couldn’t help but smile.

This wouldn’t be long.

[utmostzenith]

Kitchen tools.

Non-stick frying pan.

Saucepan.

Sheet pans.

Stock pot.

Knives.

Measuring spoons.

Measuring cups.

Wooden spoons.

Fish turner.

Peeler.

Whisk.

Tongs.

Cutting board.

Colander.

Prep bowls in every size.

Stick blender.

Salad spinner.

Colander.

Cast iron skillet.

Wok.

Saute pan.

Grill pan.

Dutch oven.

Rectangular baker.

Cooling racks.

Food processor.

Blender.

Slow cooker.

Instant pot.

Microwave oven.

Toaster oven.

Pan scrapers.

Silicone brush.

Spatulas.

Meat tenderizer.

Versatile lid.

Strainers.

Box grater.

Julienne peeler.

Citrus squeezer.

Magnetic knife holder.

[techandinvcom]

The History of Ceramics

Ceramics have played a key role in architecture throughout the world. They are used in various applications, including tiles, bricks, pots, and pipes. They are also used for creating refrigerator magnets. They are very durable and are often used in industrial facilities. In addition, they can be resistant to stains and wear, making them ideal for high-traffic areas. They are also very affordable.

In the past, ceramics were associated with coldness, however, technological advancements have led to a more diverse definition of the material. Today, it can be found in a variety of colors, finishes, and styles. It can also be used to imitate fabrics, leather, wood, and more. Whether you choose a natural stone look, a classic pattern, or a contemporary design, ceramics can add a sense of style and sophistication to your home.

The earliest examples of ceramics date back to the 17th century. These tiles were used to cover the walls of buildings. They could be in the form of free-form pieces, or they could be cut into small, rectangular shapes. The Timurid Empire of Persia used the moraq technique, which consisted of plaster between tiles to create panels for wall coverings. The technique was also used to cover the interior surfaces of domes. The color schemes used in these tiles ranged from purplish dark brown to dark blue.

The minai technique was introduced in Iran in the 12th-13th centuries, and was used for producing miniature-sized tiles. This technique uses a layer of colored slip or glaze, which is applied over a secondary glaze to achieve a wider palette of colors. It was used for decorative wares in the early Ottoman period.

The سيراميك industry in Kutahya had suffered a significant downturn in the first half of the 19th century, but it slowly began to recover. Tiles from this period were decorated on late-Ottoman buildings and in private collections in Turkey. This period was characterized by the use of blue-and-white wares. The tile on the tomb of Sultan Mehmed Resad V in Eyup is an example. It was made by Hafiz Emin Usta, a Kutahya potter.

While the tiles of the late Ottoman period were based on the traditional techniques of the Seljuks, they also began to use the cuerda seca technique, which involves carving a design into the surface. This prevents the glazes from running into one another. In addition, the technique was less expensive than lead-glaze ware, and allowed the potter to paint directly on the frit body.

The tiles of the Emirate-period, on the other hand, are generally a continuation of the Seljuk techniques. They were used for decorating domestic houses, churches, and other buildings. These wares were also decorated with sgraffito and slip-decorated techniques. These types of wares continued the folk art and tastes of the Seljuks.

The demand for these tiles has increased over the years due to the rise of residential and commercial buildings. Increasing industrialization has led to a booming construction industry. The growth of this industry is expected to continue in the coming years.

[spoonie-living]

[Image: Two feet in tennis shoes with Zubits (two rectangular magnets clicked together, with holes jutting out from their outer sides) strewn around and laced into the shoe. Two hands demonstrate how the product lets you “open” your shoelaces down the middle for easy on and off, after initially lacing each side of the lace up the magnets instead of crisscrossing each other.]

Zubits ($20) The Accessible Magnetic Lacing Solution

Hot diggity dang! These look ridiculously easy to work with and are certainly the most elegant solution to accessible footwear we’ve seen---and we’ve seen quite a few.

How they work: lace your shoes up with these little doohickeys, and you can easily slip them on and off with a quick click. The magnets can take a lot of movement without failing, but still come apart easily when you go to take off your shoes.  

Not only do they remove the need to work your poor joints into tying and untying a knot, but once you learn the hands-free technique, it looks like you can pop these shoes off without even bending over (hear that, POTS patients?). And honestly, with a little dexterity, you might be able to put ‘em on hands-free, too.

Not sure you can manage pulling the magnets apart? Not to fear: the tips and tricks page covers a few different ways to git ‘er done with even more accessibly.

Bonus: it sounds like patients and PTs have found ways to use these on laced braces and similar orthotics, too!

Wanna see videos of these things in action? Check out Zubits’ Vimeo channel for a bunch of demos.

And for the rest of Feb 2019, get 20% off with the coupon code SPOONIE! Start shopping here.

Honestly, we want one in every color!! 👟

[tlatollotl]

Of all the places to discover a lost city, this pleasing little community seems an unlikely candidate.

There are no vine-covered temples or impenetrable jungles here — just an old-fashioned downtown, a drug store that serves up root beer floats and rambling houses along shady brick lanes.

Yet there’s always been something — something just below the surface.

Locals have long scoured fields and river banks for arrowheads and bits of pottery, amassing huge collections. Then there were those murky tales of a sprawling city on the Great Plains and a chief who drank from a goblet of gold.

A few years ago, Donald Blakeslee, an anthropologist and archaeology professor at Wichita State University, began piecing things together. And what he’s found has spurred a rethinking of traditional views on the early settlement of the Midwest, while potentially filling a major gap in American history.

Using freshly translated documents written by the Spanish conquistadors more than 400 years ago and an array of high-tech equipment, Blakeslee located what he believes to be the lost city of Etzanoa, home to perhaps 20,000 people between 1450 and 1700.

They lived in thatched, beehive-shaped houses that ran for at least five miles along the bluffs and banks of the Walnut and Arkansas rivers. Blakeslee says the site is the second-largest ancient settlement in the country after Cahokia in Illinois.

On a recent morning, Blakeslee supervised a group of Wichita State students excavating a series of rectangular pits in a local field.

Jeremiah Perkins, 21, brushed dirt from a half-buried black pot.

Others sifted soil over screened boxes, revealing arrowheads, pottery and stone scrapers used to thin buffalo hides.

Blakeslee, 75, became intrigued by Etzanoa after scholars at UC Berkeley retranslated in 2013 the often muddled Spanish accounts of their forays into what is now Kansas. The new versions were more cogent, precise and vivid.

“I thought, ‘Wow, their eyewitness descriptions are so clear it’s like you were there.’ I wanted to see if the archaeology fit their descriptions,” he said. “Every single detail matched this place.”

Kacie Larsen of Wichita State University shakes dirt through a screened box to see what artifacts may emerge. David Kelly / For The Times

Conquistadors are often associated with Mexico, but a thirst for gold drove them into the Midwest as well.

Francisco Vazquez de Coronado came to central Kansas in 1541 chasing stories of a fabulously wealthy nobleman who napped beneath trees festooned with tinkling gold bells. He found no gold, but he did find Native Americans in a collection of settlements he dubbed Quivira.

In 1601, Juan de Oñate led about 70 conquistadors from the Spanish colony of New Mexico into south-central Kansas in search of Quivira in the hopes of finding gold, winning converts for the Catholic Church and extracting tribute for the crown.

According to Spanish records, they ran into a tribe called the Escanxaques, who told of a large city nearby where a Spaniard was allegedly imprisoned. The locals called it Etzanoa.

As the Spaniards drew near, they spied numerous grass houses along the bluffs. A delegation of Etzanoans bearing round corn cakes met them on the river bank. They were described as a sturdy people with gentle dispositions and stripes tattooed from their eyes to their ears. It was a friendly encounter until the conquistadors decided to take hostages. That prompted the entire city to flee.

Oñate’s men wandered the empty settlement for two or three days, counting 2,000 houses that held eight to 10 people each. Gardens of pumpkins, corn and sunflowers lay between the homes.

The Spaniards could see more houses in the distance, but they feared an Etzanoan attack and turned back.

That’s when they were ambushed by 1,500 Escanxaques. The conquistadors battled them with guns and cannons before finally withdrawing back to New Mexico, never to return.

This bluff overlooks the spot where many believe Spanish conquistador Juan de Oñate met a delegation of Etzanoans. David Kelly / For The Times

French explorers arrived a century later but found nothing. Disease likely wiped out Etzanoa, leaving it to recede into legend.

Blakeslee enlisted the help of the National Park Service, which used a magnetometer to detect variations in the earth’s magnetic field and find features around town that looked like homes, storage pits and places where fires were started.

Then, relying on descriptions from the conquistadors, he discovered what he believes was the battle site in an upscale neighborhood of Arkansas City.

Volunteers using metal detectors found three half-inch iron balls under the field. Blakeslee said they were 17th century Spanish cartridge shot fired from a cannon. A Spanish horseshoe nail was also found.

It all lent credibility to the detailed accounts left by the conquistadors.

The battlefield sits in Warren “Hap” McLeod’s backyard.

“It’s a great story,” he said. “There was a lost city right under our noses.”

McLeod, 71, offered a quick tour of the area.

He started at Camp Quaker Haven overlooking the spot where Oñate would have encountered the Etzanoans. McLeod then drove up to the country club, the highest point in the city of roughly 12,500 people.

“Lots of artifacts have been taken from here,” McLeod said.

In 1994, thousands of relics were unearthed during road construction. In 1959, the renowned archaeologist Waldo Wedel wrote in his classic book, “An Introduction to Kansas Archeology,” that the valley floor and bluffs here “were littered with sherds, flints, and other detritus” that went on for miles.

“Now we know why,” McLeod said. “There were 20,000 people living here for over 200 years.”

Local rancher Jason Smith, 47, said he had seen collections “that would blow your mind.”

“Truckloads of stuff,” he said. “Worked stone tools, flints. One guy had 100 boxes at his house.”

Russell Bishop, 66, worked at the country club as a kid.

“My boss had an entire basement full of pottery and all kinds of artifacts,” he recalled. “We’d be out there working and he would recognize a black spot on the ground as an ancient campfire site.”

Bishop, who now lives outside Denver, has coffee cans full of arrowheads. He spread some on his counter.

“I don’t think anyone knew how big this all was,” he said. “I’m glad they’re finally getting to the bottom of it.”

Kansas State Archaeologist Robert Hoard said that based on the Spanish accounts and the evidence of a large settlement, it’s “plausible” that Blakeslee has found Etzanoa.

Still, he would like more evidence.

The early Great Plains had long been imagined as a vast empty space populated by nomadic tribes following buffalo herds. But if Blakeslee is right, at least some of the tribes were urban. They built large towns, raised crops, made fine pottery, processed bison on a massive scale and led a settled existence. There were trade connections all the way to the Aztec capital Tenochtitlan in Mexico.

"So this was not some remote place. The people traded and lived in huge communities," Blakeslee said. "Everything we thought we knew turns out to be wrong. I think this needs a place in every schoolbook."

And that may just be the beginning. Blakeslee has found archaeological evidence in Rice and McPherson counties for other large settlements extending for miles, which he believes existed around the same time as Etzanoa.

He has published his findings in the peer-reviewed journal Plains Anthropologist, and next spring he will present his evidence for Etzanoa at the annual meeting of the Society for American Archaeology. A bigger excavation is planned for next summer.

The Wichita Nation, based three hours south in Anadarko, Okla., is watching all of this carefully. Experts believe the Etzanoans were their ancestors.

“The accounts of Oñate and Coronado have been interpreted for years,” said Gary McAdams, cultural program planner and historic preservation officer for the Wichita and Affiliated Tribes, which number about 3,300. “We had a suspicion it was settled like this, but now it’s starting to be documented, which makes it feel more real.”

In the meantime, Arkansas City is trying to determine how to promote its new claim to fame. Etzanoa remains mostly underground or on private land. Yet that hasn’t deterred interest.

“We get about 10 calls a day to see the lost city,” said Pamela Crain, director of the Convention & Visitors Bureau. “The vision is to have a visitors center. The other key is to persuade landowners to allow people onto their property.”

Professor Donald Blakeslee of Wichita State University shows a black pot unearthed by student Jeremiah Perkins, behind him. David Kelly / For The Times

Russell Bishop still has the arrowheads he collected as a kid in Arkansas City. David Kelly / For The Times

Limited tours began last spring, focusing on key historical and archaeological sites. Town leaders are hoping for a UNESCO World Heritage site designation.

Back at the dig site, all eyes were on Jeremiah Perkins as he lifted the hefty black potsherd from the dirt.

Blakeslee dropped into the pit for a closer look. It was the largest artifact of the summer, perhaps 12 inches high.

“That’s a nice big cooking pot,” he exclaimed.

Yet many mysteries remain about the people of Etzanoa.

“How were they organized? How did they farm the bluffs? How did they maximize bison herds?” Blakeslee asked. “The questions go on and on and on.”

And the thought of that made him smile.

[mpcomagnetics]

What Are N52 Strong Magnets

What Are N52 Strong Magnets Let me start this post with a simple answer: Yes, N52 is widely considered one of the strongest grades of neodymium magnets available. But what exactly does “N52” mean? And what makes this magnet grade so powerful and useful across various applications? I’ll cover all that and more in this comprehensive guide to N52 magnets. Understanding the N52 Magnet Grade As you…

[hsmagnet]

Small Wind Turbine Alternator Permanent Magnets Neodymium Segment

Small Wind Turbine Alternator Permanent Magnets Neodymium Segment Tile Arc Fan-shape Neodymium NdFeB Wind Turbine Generator Magnets, N50 N52 N54 N56 N48sh N42h N42uh Arc Magnets with Countersunk for Small Wind Turbines Generators Alternators, Powerful and Industrial N52 Neodymium Arc Segment Magnets with Countersunk Hole in Center Small Wind Turbine Alternator Permanent Magnets Neodymium…

[otheroutlandertales]

Anonymous said: Fergus doesn't know what to get Marsali for her birthday

Hello OOT readers! Muy here. I’ve shaped this prompt to fit within my Fersali ficlet series, which means it can be enjoyed as a standalone fic or as part of a larger story. This particular ficlet takes place in between “First date”/Oversight and The jacket. enjoy!

Fersali: Pictures

by @ianmuyrray

Fergus lounged at the end of a metal pier, cigarette in hand, the sky an early morning blue-gray behind him. Across the bay stood a shadowed city skyline, rectangular windows winking golden in the shadow of buildings. In the distance, sailboats billowed their white sails, stiff, rocking clouds.

Marsali’s birthday is tomorrow. Fuck.

He drew from his cig, the end glowing a brilliant orange, and narrowed his eyes against a sea breeze. He took a moment to appreciate smoke-filled lungs. God, that feels good. He exhaled out of his nose, reluctantly.

He’d met Marsali about a month ago. And it’d been the best month of his life. It was a whirlwind, and yet, he forgot nothing. Time flashed by like lightning, but he knew he could freeze-frame, recall any image he wanted in high definition.

Marsali was a walking daydream. He constantly feared he would be roused from it only to find himself alone again. She was tough, funny, sweet, smart-mouthed, and ridiculously sexy. Their relationship had progressed very quickly, and Fergus felt the groove of pavement and the roar of an engine as he raced toward everything he never thought he wanted.

He was terrified, yet glad of it.

When apart, they were constantly in contact, unable to refuse the magnetism between them. He felt compelled to update her on the little things during the day, to check in on her smallest moments, to share everything. He had never felt such a depth of connection with anyone before.

He ran his hand absentmindedly over the phone in his pocket. It had been largely silent - nothing from Marsali in a number of days.

He stared blankly into the skyline. Boats bobbed around him, the air smelled of sea salt and algae-blanketed rock walls. Fergus frowned.

Rushing into things had its side effects. Like David - someone he reached out to when he was lonely and bereft, someone Fergus had used to pretend another person liked him, cherished him, wanted to spend time with him. But really, David was just someone he could get off with shortly after sending a text. Fergus never had to clean his shitty flat, or shave on his days off, or feel responsible for buying David’s dinner. David wasn’t a boyfriend, wasn’t a relationship; he was only a hookup.

Fergus hadn’t had an opportunity to reach out to David since Marsali had appeared in the restaurant, looking thoroughly fuckable, extremely dangerous, and forgotten by another man. He had been drawn to her, and watching her storm out of the restaurant made him shed his apron and tie and clock out-- assigned shift be damned. He needed to be near her, to find out if she felt the same undeniable pull.

He flicked his thumb against the cig’s filter end, ashes falling into the harbor water, before bringing it to his lips for a final inhale. He sighed as he exhaled and extinguished the cigarette butt on the metal pier before tossing it into a little rubbish bucket hanging from the pier’s post.

And tomorrow was her birthday.

Fergus had agonized over what to get her. Always strapped for cash, making little money as he did as a server, his options were limited. What the hell was he supposed to buy someone he’s only known a few weeks when it feels like he’s known her longer than time itself?

He had decided to show her how meaningful the time warp was to him. So, he prepared a box of photographs for her. Snapshots of them together, of silly selfies, eating mustard covered hot dogs from a street cart, climbing grassy hills in the park, sharing a slurpee at the theater. Photos of them separate. He had included several of the images she had snapped of him: one while he was reading under a lamp at night, one where he was eating an ice cream sandwich in the car, another where he lounged in bed, nude and happy.

And, of course, there were photos of her that he had taken. Photos of Marsali was the largest category in the box; he couldn’t seem to stop taking photos of her, let alone select only a few of the ones he had taken. He wanted to capture her in all lights, in all settings, in all expressions.

There was one he had taken of her in the shower. He snuck into the warm bathroom and playfully stuck his phone around the corner of the curtain. She had squealed in delight and surprise, trying to knock the phone from his hands and into the running water. Water droplets sprinkled his arm and phone, and he nearly dropped it, but he managed to snap a picture. He had leaned against the sink, admiring the image of her on his cracked screen, the out of date phone broad in his hands.

Shower still running, Marsali whipped open the curtain, wild-eyed and laughing. She leaped forward and tackled him, dampening his t-shirt and jeans. But he hadn’t cared. He stripped out of his wet clothes as quickly as he could and pulled her back under the running water, closing the curtain behind them.

The photo from that day is his favorite. A blurry image of Marsali whooping with laughter, surrounded by running water and steam and sea-foam colored tile. She was covering herself the best she could with one arm while the other extended to swat the camera away.

In that photo was Marsali, the woman. Daring, goofy, fun-loving, kissable, fierce Marsali, who trusted him completely from the moment she had met him, who gave him all of herself before he even realized how much he needed it.

His lips twitched, his mind cascading through tender memory, familiar tobacco whirring through his head. A seagull flew by him, then parted with a low swoop. Twilight was fading.

His phone began to buzz, and Fergus felt his heart stop as he was ripped back into the present. He swallowed hard but didn’t move to grab it. Instead, without checking the name on his screen, he silenced the phone.

Several days ago, he had been in the kitchen, stirring a bubbling pot of noodles for a macaroni and cheese dinner for the two of them. Marsali was on the couch, buried in her computer.

At the last second, he had heard his phone ringing.

“Marsali, could you get that?” he called, tapping starched water off his wooden spoon and reaching for a colander.

“Sure thing, dove,” she had replied, standing up from the couch and heading for his jacket on the coat hook, where his phone waited in a pocket, dinging.

Fergus busied himself by straining the noodles and pulling milk from the fridge, tearing open the cheese packet and dumping it into the new bowl of noodles.

Marsali entered the kitchen, her face stony and cold, and held out the phone.

“Who is it?” Fergus asked, mixing ingredients together, frowning at her severe look.

“It’s a call from some guy named David. He wants to know if ye’re available tonight,” she replied, her voice dark and clipped.

Fergus’ stirring efforts stopped abruptly, and he glanced over at Marsali. “Dav-- David?”

“Yes,” Marsali replied, terse. “He also sent ye a photo.”

She tossed his clunky, outdated smartphone to the counter where Fergus saw a graphic, closeup of David’s erect penis.

Fergus’ heart leaped into his throat, and his head spun. He rubbed a hand against his forehead, trying to stop it, staring hard at the macaroni bowl before him, the two smaller bowls he had set out for their dinner to share.

“Who is David?” Instead of demanding, Marsali was cold, her blue eyes glittered dangerously with ice. “And how often does this happen?” She waved a hand over the phone.

“It’s not what you think,” Fergus replied, his mind racing, trying to find a way to explain that wouldn’t upset Marsali further.

“It’s not?” she snapped, nodding towards the lit phone screen, David’s erection still displayed. “What is that, then?”

Fergus flinched. “He was from before you.” He had been so focused on Marsali during the last weeks that everyone else had faded into the background.

“Ye’ve been with men?”

Fergus swallowed. While he had reached an incredible level of intimacy with Marsali, he hadn’t yet shared that. No one knew he had been sleeping with David, or that David wasn’t the first. “Yes.” His cheeks flushed.

“Why didn’t ye tell me? Did ye really think I would care?”

He hadn’t wanted to find out if she’d care, fearing the worst. “Marsali, I--”

“Ye know what, I dinna care about yer interest in men. At all.” The words hung in the air, and for a moment, he felt he believed her. “What I do care about is ye sneaking around behind my back. I thought we had something good here, Fergus.”

He fought to catch his breath. “We do! Marsali--”

“Fergus, I willna have ye lyin’ to me.”

“Dammit, would you let me speak!” He gripped the edge of the counter tight with rage and fear, feeling everything slipping quickly away from him.

She glowered at him. “Go ahead then. What have ye to say?”

He breathed deep, ran his hands over his face, wanting to pace the small room that was his kitchen, try to gain some traction. “I didn’t tell you about him because I was a coward, Marsali. No one knows!” He took a deep breath. “And I didn’t tell him about you because he’s not important enough to me. I was just going to ghost him. I have no attachment to David.”

“No attachment? Ye seem pretty cozy to me.” She grabbed the phone, held it up again like she was a prize presenter on a bizarre game show he didn’t want to play.

“Put that down! I’m only going to delete it like I have the others.”

“The others? You’ve received other photos from him, or there are others who send photos?”

He had, actually, received late-night texts from Rhona, someone he had been seeing several months ago. He ignored them, but... he hadn’t actually deleted them.

Marsali immediately turned to his phone, beginning to search through his messages. He stood there, feeling trapped in quicksand, unable to move for fear of making the situation worse.

Finding the naked photos of Rhona, Marsali looked as if she was going to explode, a powder keg, set to ignite if he had reached to touch her. Full of disgust, she threw the phone at him, and he had to duck quickly to dodge it. It struck the wall and landed with a sharp sound on the linoleum floor.

“Ye didna delete it, you pig,” she uttered. Her eyes were bright and red, tears gathering in her long lashes. “Am I just another one? Another number for you to call when you’re lonely? To keep dirty pictures of?”

“No!” he reached for her, wanting to pull her into his arms, convey with touch what he couldn’t express in words.

She swiped at him, denying his embrace, and backed away. Without another word, she threw on her coat and shoes, slamming the door behind her as she left. At the sight of the shuddering door frame, his heart ached, his stomach churned, his head swam. Fuck, fuck, fuck his cowardice.

He hadn’t heard from her in several days.

He leaned back against the pier, all the way back, flattening himself, his ribcage collapsing with resignation.

From the beginning, he could have handled everything differently. He could have been upfront with Marsali, upfront with David, and yet hadn’t been. Because he wanted Marsali all to himself because he didn’t want to upend the boat. Because he was scared.

He sighed, lit a second cigarette. Savored it until it burnt to ash and stank of plastic filter. He lay silent, unmoving.

But the spell had broken the spell anyway. She was gone. He had gambled and lost.

The car he had been traveling in, towards his everything, disintegrated around him like the smoke he exhaled. His everything disappeared into the twilight, wafting up and away from the city skyline; it drowned in the water, trapped in weeds, too far gone to cry out to be saved.

She haunted him. Even now, he could hear her chastising him for not contacting her. These days apart were an eternity. If life was fast with her, it was glacial without her.

He ran his hands through his hair, sat up. He pulled the phone out of his pocket, finally able to look at it.

He ignored the notification-- it was just a spam email-- and opened an app to message Marsali, even as he guessed she wouldn’t reply. He didn’t know what to say, or where to start, but he had to try something.

A life without Marsali didn’t feel possible.

I’m sorry.

Immediately, the message registered as read. Bubbles from the other side jumped, stopped. Jumped again. He waited, hardly able to take a breath.

I know. Miss you.

She had been waiting to hear from him. Thank god.

He stood then, brushed the dust from his jeans.

He found his car, scrounged a pen out of his glove compartment. He opened up the box of photographs beside him in the passenger seat, began to write what he could remember about the moment he took it on the back. His heart leaped as he remembered being together in the park. How content he felt when they lay together. The exhilaration that rushed through him when he snuck into the shower to take a picture of her. He wanted to show her how she made him feel, wanted her to know everything, all of it.

It was her birthday tomorrow, dammit, and he wasn’t going to let cowardice or fear, or weakness, stop him from celebrating her.

[globalaircraftgalley]

https://www.databridgemarketresearch.com/reports/india-rare-earth-magnet-market

[outhouseblueprints-blog]

6 x 8 Gable Potting Patio Shed Construction Blueprints - Points To Assess When Designing A DIY Shed

"In order to provide support for your roof and floor it is necessary to build correct framing. Necessary materials (https://sheddrafts.com/6x8-gable-garden-potting-shed-plans-blueprints) for framing include 2X4 timbers and attachments such as nails. For one wall you will need 4 pieces of wood cut to your desired length and height. These pieces should be fastened together to make a simple rectangular frame. The key to easily framing the exterior outhouse walls is to make sure the walls are square and level. Your frame is best supported by filling it with 2X4s every couple of feet. Add ¾-inch plywood to make your frame sturdier and more durable. When the rear wall is built flip it over to have it in the correct position to stand. Follow suit with the remaining walls and be sure you are leveling the angles at all times. Stand and attach your back wall and then the sidewalls and finally the front wall. A few decorative details in your patio outhouse drawings can make all the difference between a nice outbuilding and an eyesore. Make your garden hose easy to find and buy a hook where you can it. Tools that you use often should be stored in an easy to find place. Consider setting up a simple cubbyhole on the back of your outbuilding for easy accessibility. Make storing anything with wheels easier by using a portable ramp to get it and out. Having a great set of shelves will allow you to store more in tight quarters. To make your shelves even more organized invest in metal bins to store tools and other items. Choose a bar of magnets strong enough to hold the weight of your tools and you will always have them within reach. Make foldable shelves that you can hide away when you are not using them. Corner boards or a cupola window are great ways to dress up your outhouse without costing a lot. If you want to use a outbuilding for more than just storage you will want to include electricity in the outhouse creation schematics. The number one rule when working (6 x 8 saltbox wooden shed crafting plans) with wire and electricity is to be safe. Whether you plan to lay the electrical cable above ground or under it you will need to use Steel Wire Armored cable. Running the SWA cable below ground is the preferred option as it will hide ugly wires. Choosing to bury your wiring requires that you place it a minimum of 3 feet underground. Your outhouse schematics can also utilize solar panels to acquire power in your outbuilding. Using a solar panel will mean that you need to place it where sufficient light reaches it between 11 am and nightfall. Buy roof mounts for your solar panel to help you easily affix it to the shed’s roof. Once the panel has been mounted you can drill holes in your outhouse for the cable. A wind turbine may be the ideal solution for remote outhouses because they can be mounted at a high level where the wind is stronger.

Making wooden shed creation blueprints and constructing an outbuilding is a lot of work and can be exhausting if you are doing it on your own. Look into hiring a landscape company to help get rid of any obstructing bushes or shrubs. Do landscaping yourself by borrowing machinery to level land and move rocks. Employ a mason to do any rock and concrete work you don’t have time to do. Communicate with electricians if you need wiring done in the outbuilding. Building a outhouse can be a great form of family bonding and all the help makes work go quickly. Many tools that you don’t have are available for rent from most hardware stores. Purchase mail order wooden outhouse building plans from any online sources if you need guidance. Consider buying a shed designing kit with everything included if you don’t want to start from scratch. There are many databases where you can find a contractor in your town to do most or all of the work.

[appliancegadget]

Frying Pan/Dishwasher Safe Fry Japanese Style Steak/Egg Pan - Non-stick Coating - Rectangular Frying Pan Mini Frying Pan - Black Skillet with (Color : A)

Frying Pan/Dishwasher Safe Fry Japanese Style Steak/Egg Pan – Non-stick Coating – Rectangular Frying Pan Mini Frying Pan – Black Skillet with (Color : A)

Price: (as of – Details) For fast and easy cleanup, this deep skillet is conveniently dishwasher safe。☞ Durable Material: Durable material ensures heating fast and evenly, lightweight and easy handling.Easy to use shapes, sandwiches, pancakes and fried steaks. The stainless steel magnetically conductive base allows the pot to be used in gas stoves and induction cookers.Durable: Made of…